#regardless please enjoy my scattered thoughts

[doublerainebow]

Lee Felix-Centric with bits of Lee Felix x Reader

PIRATE AU FELIX PIRATE AU FELIX AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I have yet to think of something concrete, but... depending, Stray Kids are either a band of pirates under Bang Chan's leadership, ORRRRR each member is a captain of their own ship, and they all form a fleet with Bang Chan as the head of the pirate fleet "Stray Kids Pirates" asdskldfjds

~ Masterlist ~

Focusing on Felix as the pirate of the Sunshine Pirates (yes, it doesn't sound very intimidating, but that's where you're WRONG). Felix looks harmless, but don't let that fool you. He's damn good at what he does. I imagine he has the fastest ship of the fleet, so he's more of a get in quick, get in some good damage, and get out fast. His gunplay is really good also, but he's way better at hand-to-hand combat... and by hand-to-hand, I mean serving some painful kicks. He also uses his youthful features to his advantage in that he takes advantage of the fact that his enemies think he's weak.

As a captain, he's really just and fair to his crew. His crew adores him and is extremely loyal to him. However, to enemies, he can be intimidating and even cruel if need be, but he prefers not to be. He leaves that kind of work to Minho or Seungmin. I feel like he's better at making negotiations and he uses his charm to get what he wants

As a pirate LOVER 👀👀 he's definitely gentle and kind, with a healthy dosage of mischievous and teasing. If you're in his crew, or even just a part of any of the members' crews, he's definitely keeping you by his side. He might even try to negotiate with other members for him to take you into his crew lmao. He says it's to keep you safe, but we all know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself if you're in a pirate crew. If you're a villager he just so happened upon on an excursion and he takes a more than just a liking to you, he'll definitely make the effort to visit you as much as he can, or send you letters if possible. It's definitely hard, and he has long since came to terms with the fact that you might move on from him if he's gone for too long. However, when he visits you, he showers you in love, affection, and gifts that have been... borrowed forever, let's just say. While he doesn't prefer to talk about any... plundering and pillaging he does, he does like talking about any misadventures that have happened on his journeys.

I'm running out on fumes trying to think of more things to add here, but it's a start LOL maybe I'll expand this better in the future, but I just wanted to put something down at the very least.

Please feel free to use these as ideas for your fics, just tag me so I can read them too lolol

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Hiiii! How are you???

I loved the love-quirk piece you wrote for Touya/Dabi and was wondering if you could do the same trope for Hawks please please please??? 🥺🩷

Ugh I lovvveee Hawks and I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Summary: Love-quirk trope but Keigo Takami edition because he deserve some nice fluff

Warnings: Language; suggestive

Word Count: 2.9k

The wind whipped through the stray strands of your hair, stinging your eyes as you ran toward the scene. It tousled the fabric of your hero suit, wrapping around your body as you took a moment take in your surroundings.

Despite the fact that the commotion seemed to have calmed down a bit, it was easy to see that chaos had just recently erupted. Haphazard concrete was littered across the street, a lamppost smashed through the middle strewn directly in front of you. Its dying bulb flickered amidst the debris, a beacon of energy among all of the destruction.

You had gotten the call maybe seven minutes ago. At the time, you had been peacefully drinking your morning serving of coffee. The word of criminals attacking the Northern side of the city rumbling over the agency forced you to push the steaming cup aside, ignoring the look of dejection stemming from the kind intern who had brought it.

Hawks had gotten there significantly earlier, thanks to his widely known speed and the fact that you were on the opposite side of town.

Speaking of your partner, he was nowhere to be seen, but the stray streaks of red plumage floating through the air alluded to him being close by, most likely taking down remaining villains in the nearby vicinity.

If the multiple unconscious bodies were anything to go by, he had already taken care of most of the assailants. Still, there seemed to be a few scattered around, all of which immediately began gunning for you.

You weren't exactly worried, however. Groups like this believed their abundance in numbers would make up for a noticeable lack of skill.

There was one left moments later, armed to the teeth, but visibly sloppy when it came to close combat.

Arms forward, you readied yourself for a quick win as a flash of color registered in your peripheral vision. You turned, almost positive that it was your partner, but wanting to make sure. That recognizably cocky grin and friendly wave confirmed your suspicions.

That grin faltered for a moment as he watched you pause, fists growing limp and face showing no reaction to the scythe-wielding villain running straight for you.

Reaction time as extraordinary as ever, Hawks shot forward and rammed his body into yours, the both of you colliding into the road as he tried your best to protect your head within his arms. A wall of feathers were unconsciously sent towards the criminal, the man currently screaming and banging on the now iron-like plumes.

Hawks took a breath, your face still buried in his shoulder and cradled beneath his biceps. His attempts to ignore the speed of his heart at your nearby demise went in vain, even as he forced that usual lighthearted upswing into his tone. "What the hell happened? Trying to keep me on my toes or something, sweetheart?"

Pulling away slightly, he readied himself for that usual glance of annoyance he'd receive when using the nickname. Surprisingly, your features held none of that discernible exasperation.

One of embarrassment and guilt lay there instead, your eyes flitting towards the ground.

"I'm sorry... I guess I got distracted." You lifted your gaze to meet his. "I just was thinking that you looked really nice today."

The absolute deadpan expression he wore would've had you chuckling any other day, laughter bubbling at the way his eyes seemed to almost double in surprise. Regardless, a saccharine smile, sweet and alluring, was what you offered.

His flirtatious remarks towards you were nothing new. He had liked you for a while, sure, but his usually amorous persona was known by many, so he wasn't sure you thought much of it. You had definitely never indulged in it, however, usually brushing it off with some sassed retort for the sake of professionalism.

The way you looked at him had his mind in shambles. It looked like you were on cloud-nine, blithe and unbothered despite your near death experience.

"Excuse me?"

Hawks jumped up, lacing an arm beneath your shoulders to take you with him.

A navy-clad police officer stared back at you both.

"Thanks for your help." She cleared her throat, trying to wipe away the look of surprise she was wearing. "We can take the cleanup from here."

"Thanks," he offered her a friendly nod before turning around and walking away, a hand wrapped protectively around your wrist. Craning his neck slightly downward, he muttered a quiet, "You okay?"

"Mhm. I feel fine."

"Uh-huh." Golden eyes glazed over your form, unconvinced.

"I am kind of tired, though. Can you fly us back?"

He stopped.

There had been a few instances where Hawks would fly you back to the agency's building after a mission.

Or, more so, he would offer, you would kindly decline, and he would sneak up from behind, pulling your body into his before taking off without warning.

It was something about the way you were forced to wrap your arms around his neck, hanging tightly in fear despite the fact that he would never allow anything to happen to you.

And even though the display of your annoyance didn't go above the usual huff of complaints after landing, you had definitely never asked for him to do it.

There was something wrong with you, that much he could tell. And while he was covertly enjoying this overly affectionate version of you quite a bit, the worry he felt for your well being easily overshadowed any satisfaction he was feeling.

Still, he nodded, not keen on letting you out of his sight as of now, sliding a hand behind your back and under your knees before pulling you close and rising into the air. He watched your expressions closely, well enough versed in the layout of the city to be able to not pay attention to where he was going.

As usual, your features were brimming with quiet anxiety, but nothing else exactly seemed to be all that different. Besides the way you clung onto him without the slightest bit of protest, of course.

It had been mere minutes before the agency faded into view, mirrored windows reflecting the splendor of an early evening sunset. His landing was just as graceful as the departure, combat boots sliding just barely across the cobblestone road.

You hopped out of his hold, but kept an arm laced around his own as Hawks led the both of you inside. Photojournalists were a constant outside of his agency and he was sure a shot of you two, your head resting beneath his shoulder as you practically hung off his side, would make them go crazy.

And while he didn't exactly mind, he was almost certain that you would be peeved if the paparazzi began spreading word of some dating scandal.

That could wait until you were more than just rumors.

Keigo was nothing if not persistent.

Especially when it came to you.

Automatic doors shut behind you, the soft click of shoes against polished marble echoing off the lobby's walls. The receptionist, a elderly woman with silvery hair and glasses much too large for her face, offered Hawks a wave, expression faltering slightly as she saw your hand laced with his.

"Are you okay, hon?" She leaned over her desk as you came into hearing range, aged voice lowering into a whisper. "He bribe you or somethin'?"

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. It gnawed at the edges of Keigo's chest. "Not at all!"

The older female flicked her eyes up to her boss, eyebrow raised in overt suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure what's going on yet," he sighed, running a hand through his golden bangs. "Can you get me the security footage from earlier today?"

She took a moment, face wrinkling in thought before looking up. "You!"

The subject of her call, an intern carrying a tray of steaming cups from a nearby coffee shop, jumped in surprise. Hawks had recognized him from around the office, but his name was lost, mix up in the sea of other employees that came on for the Summer.

"You're good at the screen stuff, yeah?"

Nodding hesitantly, the worker moved closer, eyes locking with the both of you. Panic washed his features as his gaze went back and forth over the heroes in front of him, each orbital shift making it seem like he was trying not to vomit.

As he reached the desk, he practically ducked under your line of sight, reaching the receptionist's computer, fiddling with it for a moment, and scurrying away without another word.

The suspicions in regards to the intern followed Hawks as he took you upstairs, ignoring the looks of confusion from some of his other coworkers. As the door to his office shut with a soft click, he pulled out his desk chair, slumping down with a sigh.

"Alright, lovebird. You're gonna stay in here while I look through some videos. Got it?"

You flashed in a grin. "Think I'm gonna get in trouble or something?"

"Seeing as I had to save your ass half an hour ago, maybe." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ya know, I don't think I got enough groveling for that."

"Yeah?" You moved over to where he was sitting, sliding a leg over both of his and sliding down until you were able to straddle his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at him, eyes glossy and voice dripping in temptation like honey. "Thank you, Hawks, for saving me."

If there was ever a time he wanted to tell someone his given name, it was now. Every inch of him wanted to hear that needing tone lilt through his name, not the famed honorific the world knew him for.

Hearing you moan it would be even better.

Still, the possibility of some mind control or body swap being behind your strand behavior gnawed at the peripheral of his mind.

He was desperately trying to ignore the thought of how nice your hips would look between his hands.

Responsibility and desire wrestled in his mind, the latter getting dangerously close to a KO when the knocked sounded from behind his door.

"What?" The sound came out sounding significantly ruder than how he'd usually like it, but that couldn't be helped.

The frosted glass entryway slid open slowly, a trembling hand pushing it forward. A figure followed it, the fidgeting intern from earlier that Hawks had almost forgotten about.

"May I speak with you, sir?" He swallowed, eyes flickering from you both to the ground. "Alone?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Hawks turned to you. "I'm just gonna be a few minutes. Can you wait outside for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded, but the slight pout running through your bottom lip displayed your aversion to the idea.

It easily had Keigo's pants tightening.

Once the door had shut behind you, the intern took the open seat in front of the desk, hands wringing one another in a desperate attempt to smother some anxiety.

Based on his expression, it definitely didn't seem to be working.

"So, uh... I know why she's acting like that..."

Those unanswered suspicions from earlier jumped in Hawks' chest, despite the fact that they had been forgotten mere moments before.

You were a distracting little thing.

Maybe this debacle was as dangerous for him as it was for you.

But if you were his undoing, he wasn't sure that he would mind.

"I promise I wasn't trying to do anything wrong," the worker continued, voice meek and entangled with nerves. "I just... I just wanted to see if she liked me back."

Jealously burned in the back of Keigo's chest, a feeling distasteful enough to be difficult to ignore, but your well being was currently more important.

He ran a hand through his hair, one of the few physical tellers he exhibited when exasperated. "What did you do?"

Swallowing, the man in front of him continued. "Well, um, I have a love quirk and I usually bring the other heroes their coffee, so I kinda sorta used it while it was handing it out to her this afternoon."

Silence hung in the air like some toxic, poignant type of humidity.

"What?"

The worker bowed in an apology, the top of his head barely missing the wooden edge of Kiego's desk as it was thrown downward. "I know it was stupid and I promise I'll never do it again. Please don't fire me."

The number two hero wasn't exactly known to get angry.

But dammit, if he wasn't downright terrifying when he was.

"Are you serious? Didn't you stop to think that she could've gotten hurt?" Hawks stood up, the heels of his chair skimming across the floor. Golden irises flared in vexation, matching the sneer resting on his mouth. "She could've died! Fuck, she almost did!"

Now trembling a bit, the intern let out a sniffle. "I'm sorry. It's just... she's so pretty and is always nice to me."

Sitting down, Hawks took a minute to breathe, letting the indignation filter out before he said, or did, something he would regret. Some part of him couldn't exactly blame his employee; he had fallen for you just as easily.

He sighed, rested his face on the palm of his free hand. "And how the hell would making her fall in love with you prove whether or not she was interested anyway?"

The worker looked like they were about to keel over. "The quirk only works if the effected individual makes eye contact with someone they have feelings for."

Fireworks went off in his mind, blowing a usually cunning train of thought to shambles. To say he was fucking giddy was an understatement and if he hadn't been so pissed off at his own intern, he might've thanked him.

Still, he had one more question.

"So, how do you, ya know, turn it off?"

"You gotta," his employee cleared his throat. "You gotta kiss her."

Anger from moments before and pure glee were fighting for dominance in Hawks' head.

"If anything like this happens again, you're out. Understood?"

The intern nodded fervently, practically sprinting out of the office and offering sputtered words of thanks all the way. You followed shortly after, eyes darting around to make sure you weren't interrupting any meetings.

Hawks stood, immediately walking over to you.

"Is everything okay? That guy seemed kinda ner-"

He pushed his lips against you, swallowing your words with a soft moan as he hands found their way around your waist.

When he pulled back, he watched you blink away the confusion. He could practically see the gears of your mind turning. It didn't take long for embarrassment to wash over your features, a look of amusement falling over his own as you lifted a hand to your face in awe.

"Oh, shit," you breathed. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I swear I didn't-'

"Ah, come on, you don't have to be shy. I thought it was cute." A smirk found its way onto his expression.

You turned away from him, trying to ignore the blistering heat finding its way into your cheeks. "What even happened?"

"You're just too trusting." He looped his arms around your body, leaning down to rest his chin on your left shoulder. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Boyish charm dripping off his features, he continued. "But don't worry, I think I might like it better when you're pretending you aren't obsessed with me. It's more satisfying when I get you flustered that way."

"I'm not..." If the lack of confidence coating your words were any indication of their untruthfulness, the way your heart beat seemed to increase with every syllable was the real betrayal.

That was one of Keigo's favorite parts of his quirk, the way his heightened senses could pick up on every hitched breath, every quickening of the muscle in your chest that reinforced your lies.

He spun your around in his arms, gently taking your burning face in his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. They raked over your body, hungry and arrogant. "Liar. You were practically grinding on me earlier."

"Fuck." You groaned, the sound seeming to do nothing but widen Keigo's grin.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I like you too." He gave your waist a little squeeze using his free hand. "And you can get off on me all you want. I'm free right now actually if-"

"Shut up." You gave a lighthearted smack to his chest, but the soft smile brimming from his own confession seemed to abandon any real animosity.

"So, you gonna let me take you out or what?"

You huffed, trying to ignore the way the flirtation lacing his tone made your chest constrict. "Fine. We can go out for coffee or something."

His expression darkened, limbs tightening as he pulled your body into his, head resting atop your like he was scared you would slip out of his grasp. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, cursing those annoyingly attractive muscles that had built up over years of hero work. "You're not allowed to drink coffee anymore."

[roseykat]

What would be skz(separately) fav type of underwear on their gf? like what underwear/lingerie do they like to see their gf wear...? Maybe a mix of sfw and nsfw?

TITLE: Their favourite types of underwear/lingerie you wear.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of lingerie and underwear, sex, oral sex - nothing too heavy.

A/N: I’ve actually never thought about this question until you raised it anon, so thank you. I hope I’ve done it some justice lmao x

BANG CHAN

Channie is the type to try and hide how much he’s affected by you walking around the house in such lacy lingerie. He’d actually get fully flustered and would stumble with his words if you tried to speak to him too.

In saying that, he does have a secret favourite set that he loves seeing you wear which is a black, dainty, slightly see through bra and panties with cute small coloured flowers scattered over the fabric. He loves it because it’s a sexy meets cute style that makes him wonder if he wants to dominate or be dominated.

-

MINHO

Now look, there’s almost no point in wearing lingerie around this man because it’s coming off either way. In my mind, Minho has a high sex drive, so easy access is important. Clothing on you is a barrier to him. That being said, Minho can appreciate a good set of lingerie preferably in either black, a deep maroon, or white. With or without, he thinks you look stunning regardless.

However, there’s a specific set of panties that are almost see through and have intricate patterns on which he likes to trace over with his tongue as he eases into fully going down on you which, can drive you insane. It’s a classic Minho movement to try and establish that he’s in charge and that you wearing such sexy pieces of lingerie aren’t going to affect him (when it really does).

-

CHANGBIN

Honestly, I feel like Changbin enjoys seeing you in just plain, simple, cotton underwear. It sounds so basic, but it’s so effective on him? Like when he comes home from work or the gym and just sees you in a t-shirt and underwear - even better, one of his jerseys and plain underwear. That would throw him off.

But there’s also a domestic feel to it for him. He knows that you’re comfortable enough to just stride around in the house wearing next to nothing. Even sleeping in underwear too which most people do, including Changbin himself majority of the time.

-

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin is the type of man who would see you in anything and fall in love all over again. At the same time, he has an eclectic and refined taste for seeing you in lingerie. A staple black set is gold to him. It’s so sleek, elegant, and sexy at the same time, and even though this sounds cliche, it makes Hyunjin want to take photos of you wearing it or draw you in real time.

On the NSFW side, Hyunjin will be the type of guy to push your panties to the side and fuck you. But he’s also the type to pull out last minute and decorate the material on your body with white strings of his own cum. He always follows up with the promise of buying you another new set, which he always stays true to his word.

-

JISUNG

He honestly thinks you look stunning in lingerie that it makes him want to wear it sometimes. In saying that, he has a similar taste to Changbin in the sense that he likes seeing you in plain underwear. In fact, he’ll wear his own around the house with you too. But again, there’s that domestic aspect to it.

At the same time, if you do happen to be wearing a nice set of lingerie, Jisung is a goner. For some reason he switches right back into a sub and just wants to be absolutely dominated. He’d want his hands tied behind his back and to use his teeth to pull garters from down your thigh. You don’t know how that affect could possibly occur, but you don’t ever complain about it.

-

FELIX

Felix is all for you wearing lingerie. He won’t only help you pick out what he thinks would look nice on you, but he also buys sets for you if he sees one when he’s out. Some of his favourite colours are more on the pastel side and likes the ones with delicate frills over the fabric on your hips. However, Felix will lean towards seeing you in darker sets and maybe a set of white because it makes you look angelic.

Similar to others, it is an aesthetic aspect with the way in which you suit it so well. Felix enjoys watching you walk around the house in nothing but a bra and cute panties that he bought for you. It shows your level of appreciation for his gestures.

-

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin is also another person who has a high appreciation for you in lingerie. He likes it when you wear them for scenes in the bedroom. You would be wearing a nice set that he might have picked out earlier on, something that compliments your body well because he’s also going to be accentuating it even more through the methods of shibari.

He thinks it looks clean cut, eye-pleasing, and photo worthy - something that should be presented in a kink museum. Sometimes he’ll opt for you to wear a black, silk yet sturdy bra and lacy black panties then will accommodate that with some red rope when he starts tying you up. Otherwise it's the opposite - red lingerie set and black rope. At times, he’ll also suggest you wear thigh high lace stockings that pairs well with your bra and panties.

-

JEONGIN

Jeongin would actually make the perfect boyfriend and we all know that, but he knows how to throw an outfit together - and for you in particular, Jeongin also takes the aesthetic of lingerie into his consideration. Whenever you’re both going out somewhere nice for food, Jeongin will help match your undergarments to your clothes.

If you’re wearing a top that exposes a bit of the bra underneath, he would help find the right colour for it. So in short, it really just depends and that’s the beauty of it because no set of lingerie he puts you in will be the same.

[ghettogirly]

Can you create a one shot where Armando Aretas and o/c argue that Armando confesses his feelings?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

-> synopsis: seeing your bestfriend get engaged should be a happy feeling for you. Unfortunately, it’s not. Not when she’s stealing your man.

-> theme: angst and fluff.

-> format: imagine/story.

-> warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of trapping, mentions of manipulation, (if you squint).

-> authors note: i’ve had writers block, sorry for how long ive been away guys. Hope you enjoy! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝🌸.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄. You could hear the scraping noises of the suitcases that was being lugged to the cabin that was illuminated with a warm light, colours of orange and yellow pouring out of the windows. It was currently nighttime but there were structures of light that lit up the land around it.

Snow was pummelling down some mountains while some trees subtly moved due to the slight, cold breeze that cascaded over the group. It was a getaway with some friends, a ski trip. Well needed due to the busy lifestyle you have of being a fashion designer in Miami, the constant demand of clothes and the myriad of fabrics making your mind go crazy.

So when your friend, Miyah, proposed a trip you were more than happy to go. Well, that before you knew Armando was coming.

For all you know, you thought it was a girls trip but when you found out more people were coming… it wasn’t all smiles anymore.

Frustrated by the idea of Miyah and Armando even being together, you felt as if you were more deserving to be with him.

However, you pushed your feelings aside and settled into the cabin. Greeting your mutual friends around you. Walking around, you noticed the rustic theme within the house. The natural and organic vibe of the house, littered with logs and pure wood which was accompanied by the aroma of a slight cinnamon scent, making you feel at peace. Loads of your friends were beginning to go upstairs to unpack their things so, following their lead you begin to head upstairs.

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The next few days were torturous. Quite the opposite of what you thought this holiday was going to be. Standing back while the others congratulated the couple, you couldn’t believe what was happening. The rose petals scattered amongst the floor while a white light illuminated from the fairy lights bunched along the wooden structure covering the people, a big fat ring sat on your best friend’s hand.

He proposed.

He really proposed.

Walking up with your lips tight, you hugged your bestfriend while she was rambling about how beautiful the proposal was. Glancing over at Armando, he dapped up his friends while his face was.. blank. Smiling every now and then to please people but you struggled to believe if he was truly happy.

Regardless, you felt sick at the whole situation. Happy faces that were spread out around you, loud talking and people jumping up and down caused the sickness in your stomach to bubble up even more. Excusing yourself, you retreat back to your bedroom before plopping down on the bed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A knock was heard on the door, slowly moving, you sat up. With your curls flat at the back and compact, you realised you fell asleep as it was now dark outside. Another knock was heard causing you to now stand up, your throat being a bit groggy due to the mucus that now developed over the past hour. “Damn who the fuck knocking on my door like the police?!”

Opening the door, the tall, hispanic man now hovered over you. His eyes flashing a split second of worry before going back into his nonchalant state. “Can i come-“

Not even letting him finish his sentence, you shut the door on him before turning back and walking towards your bed. The door opened on response and was slowly closed by the male who didn’t want noise, not taking your rejection as a final answer. “No seas así.”

“Don’t talk to me in spanish, that shit don’t work on me like the other girls motherfucker.”

“It sure worked on you last time..” a whisper was heard from the man which made you whip your head around towards him.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing mami, come over here and talk to me.” Now walking towards you as you were laying on your bed, you rolled over backwards still wanting some distance between the both of you.

“Armando, what do you think this is? I can’t look at you in the face right now!!!”

“Stop being loud. Did you think i wanted to do this??”

“At this point, i don’t give a fuck what you didn’t or did want to do! I’m done with you and her. Clearly you don’t give a fuck about what us two have!”

A huff was heard from the male who slowly moved to your position. Reaching out his hand towards yours, however, your arms were crossed.

“Escúchame… i’m trying to buy us sometime. I’ll long out the process so we can sort our shit out and then we can just go, me and you. I’m doing this for us.”

“Are you? Or are you trying to please the both of us? I can’t do it anymore Armando!”

“¿Por qué me importaría complacerla cuando eres a quien amo?”

“Well it doesn’t seem like you-“

Failing to finish your sentence, you was pulled into a deep kiss from Armando, who was now sitting right next to you with his arm around your waist. The feeling of his soft lips touching yours dissipate the anger streaming from you, now turning it into calmness with a hint of sadness.

“Listen. I’m going to leave her baby, tienes que confiar en mí.”

“Okay Armando, i’ll trust you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“No seas así.” : Don’t be like this.

“Escúchame” : Listen to me

“¿Por qué me importaría complacerla cuando eres a quien amo?” : Why would o care to please her when you’re the one i love?

“tienes que confiar en mí” : you have to trust me.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @milliumizoomi @shurisgf @5tarlan7 @armandosbabymama @tyneshaaa @dyttomori @sarcasticbitchsblog @believeinthefireflies95 @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @twinklestarlight @bootlegroach @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @amplifiedmoan @thedarkworldofhananerea @yeahnohoneybye

[kolyubov]

HIII!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)/ I so love how you write Fyodor!!! Could I request Fyodor with a wise and optimistic s/o??? (it can be oneshot, headcannons, or drabbles :3)

To add on this, s/o is able to keep up with Fyodor's daily rants about philosophy or literature that includes deep meanings. S/o is sophisticated and quite esoteric with their world views, always drowning themselves in knowledge but never really being able to just fall into pessimism from the amount of awareness.

I just love imagining Fyodor bringing up how all sinners should be exterminated while s/o just completely turns his point around by giving some optimistic thought like, "All sinners are capable of redemption. Virtue reaches its limits once it approaches the complexity of man." (whatever that means) and then Fyodor's all baffled because why is his s/o like this??? And he doesnt even mean it negatively. Hes just shocked.

I feel that Fyodor would find it so refreshing to have an s/o like that. He may be a dedicated man who wouldn't change his plans just because his s/o talked him out of it, but he would still deeply respect his s/o and their views.

I APOLOGIZE IF THIS REQUEST WOULD BE TOO HARD(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠) please take care and thank youu!! ^_^

Fyodor with an optimistic s/o!

✧ pairing. Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!reader

✧ word count. 996

✧ contents. fedya in love

✧ author's note. HIHIII NONNIEEE!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this request is so interesting! and thank u for liking the way I write Fedya, I try my best <3

I really like this trope. Fyodor being merciless about people and the reader being the complete opposite by being optimistic.

honestly I had to search what esoteric means,,, and I'm still not sure if I understood it correctly (╥﹏╥)

I hope you like this and I'm sorry that this took so long :((

It's impossible to change Fyodor's view of the world, the society, or its people. As much as you try to convince him of the opposite —with solid proof— of his negative beliefs in certain topics, he refuses to accept them. Of course, he utterly respects your opinion; you're very smart and he knows you have knowledge about whatever topic in hand you two might be facing, as well as many others.

You think it's maybe because of the way he lived; the things one experiences are the main reason why someone acts or thinks the way they do, most of the time. So, that means that Fyodor probably had experience meeting lots of people who were “sinful” and “foolish” as he describes them in every single deep conversation that the two of you have.

Aside from the debates, Fyodor adores being able to discuss philosophical things with you— his lovely partner turning serious as he speaks, carefully listening to everything he has to say with those big eyes just makes him fall deeper in love. He's never going to directly tell you how much he enjoys it, you just have to get the hint.

Currently, Fyodor was sitting on his desk, his ushanka resting on the table among a few documents scattered on the surface— documents with government agents' faces on them and long paragraphs, a lot of words were underlined with fluorescent highlighter.

He was completely immersed in his work until he felt a pair of soft hands massaging his tensed shoulders; which was enough for him to lose focus.

“Fedya, do you not feel tired?” Your words make him sigh. Maybe he was overworking himself again, but that doesn't matter when all of this is in order to purge the world from sin.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle rub on his back that is eventually making him feel drowsy. Regardless of how dangerous of a man Fyodor is, the touch of his beloved reduces him into a soft lovesick puppy— though he tries to hide it.

A smile spreads across his face when you turn his head to the side, hooking a finger under his chin, and pressing a tender kiss on his cold lips that leaves him yearning for more when you pull away.

“Leaving so fast?” He asks when he sees that you're walking away. You might as well take responsibility for distracting him from his work. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a small chit-chat with me?”

And since you have nothing else better to do, you decide to walk back to his desk, sitting across from him.

“You see, sweetheart, I have been reading these papers for the next meeting… All of these are government members who belong to the plague that must be eliminated from the world for the sake of it. They’re sinners.”

He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Sinners tend to be selfish, only chasing their own tail in circles like a lost dog, doing anything for their own primal desires and then being hypocrites about it.”

A small laugh leaves his lips as he tilts his head to the side; Clearly, he knows this is the time when you're going to refute.

���People are not sinners forever...” You murmur while looking down at the papers, trying to give it a quick read, but Fyodor could perfectly hear your sweet voice in that slightly pouty tone.

Even as his partner you know you can’t change the way he thinks or stop him from reaching his vile goals, and as much as you don’t like seeing other people's lives slip away by Fyodor’s hands, you can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, love. I feel like if you were in my place, looking at all these faces and the stories behind them, you'd think otherwise.”

“No, Fedya.”

Fyodor's eyes widen at the way you said it, a stern tone that immediately gets his attention.

“Humans are fragile things, in body and mind.” You look at him straight into his eyes, not realizing how serious you sound by now, “And their mind can be corrupted by different situations they face during their short life…”

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow, carefully listening.

“That's how they turn “sinners”, by suffering through their life, but I think that they can be saved… not in the way you think, not by being exterminated… ending their lives is not the solution.”

“Then what do you think the solution is?”

Your eyes follow Fyodor as he stands up slowly, taking slow steps before standing behind you, “I'm all ears, dear.” The way he says it sounds menacing as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Sinners are capable of redemption… There are a lot of ways one can be ‘saved’, some people might choose God, and others might choose their family or friends, but what matters is the capacity one has to be able to get out from the dark pit of suffering to stop being selfish and sinful.”

You don't dare to look at Fyodor, afraid of what he might think, afraid he thinks your optimistic way of thinking is just dumb.

But then you hear his soft laugh as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, “You're so cute.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, his lips are over yours.

Truth be told, he does take you very seriously, but his heart flutters each time you show that smart side of yours. Fyodor feels proud of having you by his side.

As he pulls away, he pecks your cheek again, “You surprise me every time, dear.” He walks back to his seat, still smiling softly at you.

“I'd like to keep talking to you but at the same time, I need to work… So why don't you help me choose who deserves to be my first victim to be saved?”

© 2024 pinklacydovey

[manikas-whims]

An Elusive Alliance

In which Rafayel and Xavier's first encounter leads up to a collection of more encounters, resulting in them forming a sort of alliance due to their love for you.

— a Rafayel & Xavier friendship mini fic with sprinkles of Rafayel x Reader and Xavier x Reader moments

next chapter ->

Encounter 1: the artist meets the hunter [AO3]

As the burst of light from your synchronized attack faded away and the Wanderer in front of you crumbled to dust, you slid your sword back in its sheath and breathed out in relief.

Like always, Xavier did a quick survey of the area before walking back to you.

“Do you want to go home together?” He asked.

“Sure.”

You had barely smiled at him when your phone began buzzing loudly.

It was quite unusual because most of the people in your life knew about your line of work and wouldn’t be disturbing you at this hour. “Most” being the keyword as you already had an inkling about who it could be. There were only a few people who’d bother you at odd hours, one of them being right there with you. And the other one was ringing you at the moment, as was confirmed by the caller ID flashing on your phone’s screen.

It was Linkon City’s one and only famed artist Rafayel. You answered the call. “Hey—”

“Miss Bodyguard! Come quickly! My life is in imminent danger!”

The words were yelled so loud that his voice could be heard outside the tiny speaker. And with the way that Xavier blinked curiously at you, you were sure even he heard it all.

“Rafayel calm down. Is it a wanderer?” You asked.

“It’s worse! Ugh! Just get here please!”

The call was disconnected from the other end, leaving your weary mind and body in an amalgamation of confusion and concern.

Xavier stepped nearer and leaned his face far closer to yours than anyone would deem appropriate between friends. “What is it?”

“It’s just..this friend of mine. He says he’s in danger but I’m not so sure..” You scratched your cheek in thought. “He says it’s worse than a wanderer.”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed momentarily before he took hold of your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Whaa– you’re coming too?” You asked, your eyes drifting towards his long fingers around your wrist.

“You said it yourself. It’s dangerous. Best we go together.”

“R-Right okay.” You mumble, even though you still weren’t entirely sure. After all, this wasn’t the first time that Rafayel had raised a false alarm on you. Regardless, you didn’t have the energy to explain to Xavier about how much Rafayel took delight in messing with you.

That, and you could be wrong too. For all you knew, a big wanderer could be chasing after Rafayel right now. The most reasonable option was to head to Whitesand Bay as soon as possible and check up on the situation.

Bursting through the doors of the art studio, you and Xavier immediately assumed a defensive stance. The living room was still intact, save for a few boxes cluttered in one corner, and the randomly scattered utensils around the kitchen counter.

“Rafayel, I’m here!” You called. “Where are you?”

“Shhhh!” The said artist popped up his head from behind the kitchen counter. “Over here.”

You took in the weary expression as well as the disheveled state his usually smooth purple locks were in. What could be stressing him out to such an extent?

“What is it?” You asked impatiently. You were still clad in your Hunter uniform and weren’t quite enjoying the outfit clinging to you due to the sweat. You also did not want to smell like sweat in the presence of two guys you were so close to.

Rafayel cautiously walked around from the sink and came to your side. “It’s this way.”

He pushed you in the direction of the cardboard boxes you’d seen earlier, his larger body firmly huddled behind your smaller frame. Xavier followed the two of you.

Your hand slowly reached for the trusted gun at your hip. You nudged one of the boxes with your boot and a snarl came from the pile.

Your eyes widened. The sight before you was neither horrendous nor dangerous like the Wanderers you were used to dealing with. The so-called threat Rafayel had been talking about were merely..kittens! A total of three and each no bigger than a can of soda. There was a bigger cat (presumably the mother) who had snarled at you when you had disturbed the box.

You rolled your eyes at Rafayel, then gave a small apologetic glance to Xavier who stood behind. For him to come all this way with you when he could've been showering and sleeping by now.

“This was your danger?” You folded your arms across your bosom and raised a brow at Rafayel.

“Hey! You know how awful they are! They’re demons! Always fooling you with their big sparkly eyes, only to pounce at you the next moment.” Rafayel spoke in his defense.

“They’re cats, Rafayel! Cats!” You emphasized.

“Oh please! Let’s not forget that time on Hat Island when an orange cat scratched my hand.”

As you two bickered, Xavier stepped closer to the cats who seemed to have made a home for themselves amidst the cluttered boxes. He slipped the glove off his right hand and to your surprise, rubbed the mama cat’s head. But even more surprising was the fact that the cat stroked her head affectionately into his palm, seemingly not afraid or untrusting of him at all.

“She must’ve crawled in through one of the open windows and found the boxes an ideal safe spot for her babies.” He explained without looking up.

“Who are you again?” Rafayel asked, rather suspicious of him.

Now that you thought about it, you realized how you were friends with so many cool boys but had never introduced them to each other. Hmm..Maybe you just didn’t find the right occasion to do so? Nevermind that.

“Rafayel, this is Xavier. He’s the best Deepspace Hunter I know, which is why I’m lucky to have him for my partner.” You said.

“I’m also lucky to have you as my partner.” Xavier smiled, then nodded in greeting towards Rafayel.

“And this is Rafayel. The young, renowned artist!” You introduced him excitedly.

“Um..hello.” Xavier scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Are you supposed to be famous or something?”

Uh oh..

You saw Rafayel’s eyes narrowing in annoyance even as he tried to mask it with a forced smile. “I am. Very famous in fact. The one and only of my kind.”

“Ahh..I see.” Xavier brought out a hand to shake it with that of Rafayel’s, his lips twitching as he too forced a smile on his face. “Nice..to meet you.”

Rafayel couldn���t believe you had the audacity to bring another guy to his house.

The said guy– Xavier– currently sat on the couch, his hunter jacket discarded and the buttons of his undershirt undone. His legs were sprawled casually as if he had already made himself home. And if that wasn’t the worst, the tiny kittens had followed him and were loitering around his legs, nipping and sucking on his combat boots. Meanwhile the mother sat snuggled in his lap.

“He once said he has no idea why but small animals tend to cozy up to him. Interesting right?” You told Rafayel whilst helping him with lunch preparations.

“Yeah..” He replied dryly. “But why is he here?”

“Well, we heard your voice on the phone and Xavier insisted on helping.” You informed him as if that was a plausible explanation.

Xavier insisted, huh?

Rafayel couldn’t put a finger to it but something was off about the guy.

In that very moment, the said platinum-blonde haired guy scratched his nape, as if he could sense the pinprick sensation of Rafayel’s gaze upon his back. Then he turned around, and flashed a close-eyed smile.

Rafayel frowned.

Something was definitely off about this guy.

if you've reached this point, then THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ♡

i apologize for any ooc moments or grammatical errors..i’ll be editing it later on..

please ✩⁠ like - reblog - comment ✩⁠ on what you think and if you'd like me to continue this silly lil fic (i actually have ½ of chapter 2 already written out lol)

next chapter ->

» NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST «

[ikinremu]

Your smut and Head Cannons are chef’s kiss! Great work!

How about Tommy Shelby where reader is jealous but he’s reassuring her that he’s all hers while he’s making love to her? Encouraging her with lustful words like telling her “that’s your dick”.

Hey anonymous! First of all, thank you so much for reading and the support - so so appreciated. I’m so grateful for you being my first request (and sorry for the delay on a response!!) I really love this idea and I hope you love what I’ve done with it.. enjoy! <3

|| Nsfw || All Yours - Tommy Shelby ||

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Jealousy based smut oneshot!

! Smut Warning !

You were anything but oblivious to the phrase of jealousy being considered an ugly emotion - however, you also knew that you were only human.. and people were bound to gravitate towards Tommy with the position he kept.

Growing increasingly irritable, you watched on - an unfamiliar woman shifting her touch upon Tommy's shoulder, simultaneously making an effort to accentuate her faux amusement.

Well, that's how your brain computed it anyway.

It truly was moments like these that drove you to wish that the entire world knew the situation you shared with Thomas Shelby - even though you hadn't properly deciphered it yourself.

The flirtatious manor was a regular occurrence when it came to the likes of parties, however you hadn't expected to witness it on such a standard afternoon at the Garrison. You took a brisk swig of the whiskey your focus had been so shamefully drawn from, the rich substance sliding down your gullet as you fidgeted upon the booth you were keeping solitary.

Finally, your glare was graced with a response. Tommy's features may've been unmoving, though that didn't stop you from reading his thoughts like a book. He knew you far better than you liked to admit, there was simply zero doubt that he'd picked up on your tetchiness, regardless of however well you masked it.

Brow furrowed, you begrudgingly absorbed the sight of the - assumed - brash woman leaning toward the direction you felt especially strongly about. The mere millisecond her lips planted a peck against Tommy's cheek, your entire concept of remaining eloquent was tossed aside, shooting a sudden, upward stance from your seat. At that, Tommy adopted the approaching role, swiftly making his way over to you as he tossed back a neutral farewell - seemingly leaving the woman crestfallen.

He swept past the mass of scattered regulars, and soon yourself - hinting that you were to follow his path. Sauntering round the bend of one of the many corners, he effortlessly swung the double doors from their framing, a little black paintwork chipping in the process. You knew where he was headed, the Shelby brothers essentially had the room under possession, spending a more than substantial amount of time there - John and Arthur especially. With an ambiguous way about his person, Tommy strode inside the previously vacant space, awaiting the familiar click to indicate privacy.

Once the noise rung true, he pivoted on his foot, swivelling to face you with that terribly infuriating smirk staining his face - subtle, though visible enough to encourage your urge to slap it clean off.

"Please wipe that look off your face." You sighed at his audaciousness, arms assuming a loose fold over your chest.

"You know I don't want anyone else, right?" Were the first words to roll off Tommy's tongue, his grave voice firing a stinging excitement through your body.

"What?"

He'd never directed such words to you, practically handing you this vexingly clean slate.

"You've no reason to be jealous." The man resumed, clearly without the intention of postponing this monologue to allow interjection - which would've consisted of you denying jealousy. "I'm all yours." He finished.

"All mine?" You echoed, any previous tension fizzling into a burning desire.

"Mm." He confirmed, treading closer - hand reaching for the border between your hips and waist. Your arms flopped by your sides, soon finding their way up Tommy's clothed back. His supple lips crashed against your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin.

You cracked a gentle smile, head angling back a little as he suckled at your bare neck. He snaked a lonesome hand beneath your hair, callous thumb running tender strokes over your jaw. Your fingers eagerly freed the dark waistcoat from his torso - sturdy material completely discarded as it crumpled against the flooring.

In unison, the pair of you stumbled to fall against the stretch of booth seating around the circular table, wood rattling as Tommy found himself seated. You climbed atop his lap, one folded leg landing either side. Adjusting your comfortability, your back took a slight nick from the empty table - though soon fading as the pleasing feeling of damp lips came in contact with your clavicle once more. 

Your fingers made light work of popping the buttons from Tommy's fresh, white shirt - leaving its purpose far less formal. Soon you shed your own blouse, crisp air hitting your chest without an ounce of hesitation. Your fingers, however, were not the ones to unclasp your bra; the very same ones groping your naked breasts as the temperature began hardening your nipples. With a hungry connection of eye-lines, both of you rid all garments from below the waist - disposing of them as you had the rest.

Tommy's touch glided from your breasts to your hips, savouring every caressing motion he planted. He raised you slightly upwards, nude body sliding against the leather seating as he positioned himself beneath the intensity of your heat. 

"Look at me, eh?" He instructed, authority weaving through - despite the mere hum that he spoke in. You could do nothing but that; the pair of you maintaining such naturally ravenous eye contact, no doubt to the deepest level as he lowered you onto his hard cock. 

As he slid inside your soaked arousal, a sharp gasp spiked the air, a low grown accompanying from a different mouth. Tommy buried his face in the soft valley of your cleavage, tongue licking sloppy stripes across the delicate surface of your polished skin. Your arm took to the secure position of a sudden wrap around his neck, one hand clutching rather desperately at the back of his head - dark strands trapped between your agile fingers. Tommy's skilful hips began bucking, raw erection teasing your hole with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck, you feel good.." A gruff grunt extracted from his mouth, humidity spreading between your breasts. "And you thought I'd want anyone else, hm? I wouldn't miss out on you squeezing my fuckin' cock like this.."

His breathy pants incorporated with the trails of lustful words only assisted your provoking, arousal pooling even further around Tommy's length. 

"Shit.." You whimpered just beneath his left ear, beginning to grind your body in rhythm with his pleasingly deep thrusts. With a growing need to feel him throughout your entirety, you leant forward with the overpowering yearning of smashing your lips together. Tommy retracted from the warm - now dampened - crevice of your chest, pushing his senses your way as your lips met. 

His cock slapped against your sweet spots, tip throbbing within your seeping cunt as you let a contained moan slip from the heat of your mouth to his. Your tongues intertwined, greedily twisting and sliding against one and other with an exceptional ease. Needily bouncing on Tommy's erection, you felt the helplessly taunting feeling of him pulsing inside your dripping hole - his thrusts growing rougher. 

"This fuckin cock is all yours. No one else's, you got that?" He groaned, parting the mess of a kiss. His further reddened lips contorted into a responsive smirk, observing the effect his words alone had inflicted on you - despite being unable to see the more intense, internal side. 

"Mhm." You uttered, "All mine." You upped the intensity of your bouncing - the craving for a release sparking to a new, relentless extent. Tommy's hand ventured from its previous resting, arching the small of your back, your chest pushed right against his. His other hand took a highly different path, taking an unexpected grasp of your swinging hair, tugging it just a single time as your head draped backwards, neck snatching the prominency. 

Tommy returned to his earlier action of sucking at your exposed neck, not leaving a single spot untouched by his mouth. The sensations practically submerged your whole body, all blending into a single, tightly wound coil.

“Shit, Tommy, I’m getting close..” Your breath hitched, spluttering the words rather mindlessly.

“You gonna cum on my cock, hm?” He gave a low taunt, hot breath brushing your skin in the utmost teasing way. The fierce focus of his tongue developed a sudden fixation upon your pebbled nipples, flicking at one as his lips surrounded your areola.

The tight-knit coil in your stomach reached its greatest bind, moments away from unwinding. As Tommy marked his final thrust, your sopping hole began convulsing around his throbbing erection - his eyes screwing shut. The purest euphoria washed over you like a tidal wave, coil snapping as your craved release finally hit. You felt a large burst of warmth within your pulsing cunt, eyes meeting Tommy’s as he finished.

Much like before, the pair of you found a rhythm - though this time of some notably heavy breathing.

“Fuck..” You exhaled, smile creeping through your exclamation almost immediately.

The large, callous surface of Tommy’s hands trailed to your back, dragging you in once more. He placed a tender kiss to your lips before shortly opening his to speak.

“All yours.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated! <3

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ sew me a sweater, dear...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... your favs ♡

A/N... this is a repost from my very temporary old blog (sorryyy)... i decided to 'rebrand' this blog (once i finally figured out the login details), so we've gone from typing-ptera to fictoculus! i'm working on getting all my posts cleaned up too, but my masterlist broke so please bear with me ♡ thank you and enjoy!

soft and gentle; delicate touches lingering on your warm skin as his fingertips kiss you all over. your limbs tangled with his like the wires left unorganised in your shared home. you were knotted together tightly; so tightly that it would take an unimaginable amount of time and force to rip the two of you apart.

the love you shared was messy and untamed. threads of adoration, devotion, and intimacy twisting together as one, a string with which you sew together the pieces of the lives you live together - the lives you share.

soon, with those threads, will come a new life. one so delicate and innocent that he's afraid to touch it. he's afraid that he'll chip away at it as if it were porcelain, each touch from his calloused hands cracking it's fragile skin. he's afraid everything he lives for will shatter in his arms, a thousand fragments of fond memories scattered around him with their corners curved, as the love was too forgiving and kind to ever hurt him.

but even if the stitches come undone, you'll still love him.

you'll still love his cold demeanour, and the way he shuts himself out when he's struggling, but always leaves a gap in the door for you. you'll still love his trusting and loyal nature, despite being betrayed too many times for hands to count. you'll still love him, regardless of his fears, his anxieties, his habits. you'll still love him when he's unsure, you'll still love him when he's wrong.

which is why you stood by him when he feared that fatherhood wouldn't purify him the way he thought it would. it's why you stood by him until he reached the very end of his string; until you could follow him no longer.

now, the two of you lie side by side, still and quiet, a darkness weighing you down, leaving your hearts heavy with desire.

a man clad in black stands before you, and from his lips fall a poem embroidered on silk, laid gently upon your casket as earth envelops you in her soiled embrace:

"soft and gentle, messy and untamed, delicate and innocent, forgiving and kind, trusting and loyal, still and quiet: threads of our love which knows no bounds sew me a sweater, dear, for a sweater will keep me warm when your heart is no longer near"

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost any of my works as your own

[starqueensthings]

Extra large, black, no sweetener!

Summary: the most random little ficlet that’s ever come from my brain. I likely should have saved this for a coffee shop AU, but the threat of it disappearing amidst my 2767634 other google docs is too high. So, please enjoy a soft lil, gender neutral, all ages welcome Cody ficlet about caf and muffins.  

WC/Warnings: 2356 words, 2nd POV (you/you’re) | brief mentions of pregnancy and labour (readers relative)

A/N: not proof read. If you happen across a passive verb or run on sentence, no you did not. 

ao3 here

Others may have found the cacophony inside the caf house somewhat obtrusive. Those accustomed to the traditionally calm ambience of a secluded bistro where they could simply lose themselves in the pages of an old book or sip their favorite elaborately prepared caf, would have been utterly aghast at the throng of patrons lined up outside of Renee’s, most  laughing loudly with their adjacent neighbour, or chatting uninhibitedly in languages you’d never heard before. 

Perhaps it was the welcome emergence of radiant sunshine this morning that had such an array of Coruscanti citizens seeking the comfort of a fresh scone and blue milk latte. Or, sadly, maybe it was the promise of cold and desolate weather tomorrow that had many seeking out the succor of a treat before that uncomfortable emergence of a fall drizzle. Or, perhaps, it was simply always this busy; with the Grand Republic Medical Facility in such close proximity, it was perfectly logical that such a diverse clientele, and a vast number of them, would visit the nearby caf house. Regardless of why, the sheer din of voices inside those four austere walls was a welcome change to the rhythmic beeps! that had relentlessly assaulted your awareness for nearly two full rotations. 

41 hours to be exact since the shrill chime of your holopad had roused you from your slumber, though it was the sheer panic immediately apparent in your sister’s voice that had sent you leaping earnestly from your bed and pulling on the nearest disjointed pieces of clothing. 

“My water broke!” she’d cried, her voice wavering beneath the surging anxiety of her imminent labour. “Can you meet me at the hospital?” 

41 hours since you’d pulled your speeder hurriedly into a parking space and sprinted through those hospital doors. 41 hours of sporadically having your hand squeezed to the point of simply wishing it would fall off. 41 hours of trying to doze in that creaky hospital chair, while the luminous barrage of Coruscant’s skyline kept you from truly finding the reprieve of sleep. 41 hours of the nurse droids rolling into the room at infuriatingly regular intervals, blinding her with an infrared beam of light as they scanned her vitals before disappearing again. 41 hours of listening to your sister, who’s anxiety was already exacerbated by the imminent reality of raising a child alone, whimpered amidst endless rounds of contractions, those excruciating cramps wracking her entire body with no relief. 41 hours… and still no sign of that baby. 

The hospital caf had been largely digestible for the first rotation, yet as sleep deprivation sunk further into your bones and apprehension continued to fester in those quiet minutes between contractions, just the thought of attempting to force that sludge down your throat saw your stomach churning anew.  

So at daybreak this morning, as the FX-9 medical droid finally conceded to numbing the lower half of her body and permitted your sister the solace of some much needed rest, you departed that stuffy hospital room in search of some real sustenance. 

Renee’s was the first door you’d found on your limited travels, its myriad of somewhat rickety bistro tables scattered both inside that congested space and across the front patio seemed a perfect place to mentally decompress before the need to rush back into the whirlwind of labour reemerged. More so, the thought of a nice baked good had you nearly drooling as you pulled the door ajar and filed into the line behind two bickering Ugnaughts. 

“‘Scuse me.” A voice broke into your wandering thoughts moments later, shortly followed by a thick purple arm reaching daringly across your chest. 

“No worries,” you offered that Devaronian man as he apologized for invading your personal space atop the need to deposit his used fork into the trash beside you, though even attempting a small step to the left neath an effort to grant him more space was a task near impossible thanks to the expanding crowd around the Pick-Up counter. 

“EXTRA LARGE, BLACK, NO SWEETENER!” 

How such a tiny body could have emitted such an assertive sound had you stifling a chuckle as you made your way through the throng toward the petite Pantoran woman placing a large kraft paper cup on the counter, yanking her askew apron back into place before disappearing again. You eyed that waiting caf near-possessively as you stumbled forward, stammering apologies to those you accidentally trod on in your efforts to reach it through the crowd. The promise of that hot, freshly brewed, steaming caf now felt like a talisman against the stress and anxiety awaiting you back on the 8th floor of that medical building, and you’d be damned if you didn’t savour every single sip—

“Oops, sorry…” 

An armoured hand knocked gently against yours as you reached to retrieve your blessed order, those gloved fingers instantly retracting as they collided with yours.

“No no, I’m sorry,” you asserted, looking upward at the person whose caf order perfectly matched yours.  

Even more shocking than the boisterous voice of the tiny blue woman, was the notion that you hadn’t initially noticed this man’s presence upon entering that cramped and crowded space. He stood out like a sore thumb amid that crowd in his dominating suit of white and orange plastoid, the deep scar wrapping from brow to cheek rendering him instantly imposing despite the softness behind those golden eyes.“I, uh… I assumed that was mine,” you continued somewhat breathlessly as his gaze found yours and momentarily froze the air in your lungs. “You’re a ‘black, no sweetener’ too?” 

He nodded, lips tensing under the first signs of smile. “The only way to drink a caf, if you ask me.”

“Agreed,” you grinned, trying to determine if the relentless hammering of your heart against the walls of your chest was the result of that unexpected confrontation, or the tingly feeling left in the wave of his eyes dancing across your features. “I can’t get behind this new trend of weird vegetable-spiced creams and chemically altered sugars. My molars hurt just thinking about it.” 

“You should hear my brother when he orders his,” the man answered with a laugh, those soft creases atop his forehead deepening as his amusement tugged his eyebrows upward slightly. “It’s some ‘non-fat, flip-it-back, no fuzz, extra cold’ …thing. Doesn’t even look like caf by the time they’re done making it.” 

You could only offer a small snicker in response, too distracted by how the small roll of those gorgeous eyes entirely lacked the contempt you’d expect to see when complaining about a sibling’s needless opulence, instead twinkling with something near a suppressed affection. 

“Well,” you started, feeling your face begin to flush under his soft gaze. “Feel free to take this one. I’m not in any sort of hurry.” 

“No no,” he argued, instantly protesting your offer by taking a small step away from the counter. “You go ahead. I’ll wait for the next.” 

“No, honestly,” you argued, retrieving the cup and giving him an encouraging nod as you pushed it against his worn and abraded chest plate. “I was going to wait around a little and see if they put out more muffins anyways. I was eying the last meiloorun one, but someone nabbed it before I could order.” 

“Ah,” he uttered, suddenly lifting a tiny wax paper bag to eye level and looking at you apologetically. “Guilty. Apparently we’re stealing each other's caf and breakfast.” 

“Apparently…” you teased amidst a feigned disapproval, heading shaking slowly while that persistent smile crept further across your lips. “You’re lucky you have a blaster at your hip or I’d be giving you a lot more attitude.” 

“Tell you what,” he proposed after a snort, “Since neither of us are in much of a hurry, I’ll take this caf and go grab us a table outside. Once you get yours, come find me and we’ll split the muffin. How’s that sound?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed with a nod. “As long as I get the bottom.” 

“The– the bottom?” His brows furrowed instantly, eyes widening while the tips of his ears reddenned. 

“Of the muffin,” you clarified instantly, feeling your own cheeks flush. “The bottom part of the muffin.” 

“Oh– right,” he answered, an apologetic smile peeling across those supple lips before a small snort shook his shoulders. “Okay, I’ll head outside.” 

It was only barely that you suppressed the embarrassing grin doming your cheeks in earnest as that unknown soldier disappeared through the front door and into that glowing sunshine, hands drumming anxiously against the outer parts of your thighs as you attempted to refocus your attention on the serving staff bustling around behind the counter. Seconds felt like hours, minutes like days. Would he actually wait for you? Save you a seat? Split his breakfast? Or had he already taken his wares and left, too polite to grant you a true rejection whilst surrounded on all sides by others?

With something near-impatience welling in your chest, you chewed on your lip and stared intently at every staff member that approached the counter with a kraft paper cup in their hands, heart lurching anew with every order called loudly atop the din of that growing crowd until finally… 

“EXTRA LARGE, BLACK, NO SWEETENER.”

Muscles seizing briefly as the shriek of that tiny Pantoran server took you by surprise, your feet took you hurriedly toward the counter, hands scooping up that steaming cup and wreathing it near-protectively as you thanked the woman and turned on your heel. 

That orange paint was immediately apparent some half a dozen tables from the door, gaze downward at the cup wreathed by his left hand, while his right drummed somewhat thoughtlessly against the tabletop next to an equally worn and distressed looking helmet. 

“Made it.” 

You’d hardly reached to place that cup down on the table and shove your wallet back into place before he rose from his seat to greet you, the legs of that aged and wobbly iron seat scraping loudly atop the stone below atop his sudden motion. 

That unexpected chivalry nearly froze you in your tracks as you nudged your own chair away from the table enough to lower your aching body down, offering him an appreciative smile as he waited until you’d situated yourself before mirroring your action.  

“Just sat down when I realized, I didn’t even ask your name,” he spoke amidst a dazzling smile, wasting no time passing that wax paper bag across the table for you to claim your part of that baked good first. 

“To be fair, I didn’t ask yours either,” you chuckled, extracting that glorious looking fruit pastry from its slightly crumpled container and quickly separating the top section from the bottom. 

He repeated your name under his breath as he took his half from your grasp and placed it on a napkin he’d spread across the table top in front of him. “I’m Cody,” he advised, glancing upward to gift you another near-dismantling smile. 

“Thank you for sharing your breakfast, Cody,” you spoke, tearing off a small piece of that fragrant pastry and plopping it in your mouth. “I really appreciate it. Don’t have any proof, but I’d bet any amount of credits the hospital food is slowly poisioning me.” 

“Uh oh,” he answered gravely. “Hospital? You okay?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, dismissing his concern with a casual wave. “My sister’s having a baby. She’s been in labour for nearly two days and both of us are going a little nuts. I had to escape for a while.” 

“A baby,” he repeated. “That’s gotta be exciting. Worth the wait, I’d think?” 

“It is…” you agreed slowly, unable to hide the apprehension neath your tone. “She’s on her own though, so she’s a little more anxious than excited right now. What about you? Usually the clones we see walking around here are Reds. Are you posted here, or just between missions?” 

“Neither really,” he answered, brushing crumbs from his fingers and pausing to swallow a mouthful. “My corps and I are technically assigned to the warship my General commands, but he’s a member of the Jedi council so we’re planetside pretty often, though it usually only lasts a few hours.” 

“That sounds kriffing exhausting,” you exclaimed with a frown. “To never get a break from battle?”

“It definitely can be,” he admitted with a shrug. “But sometimes having a break makes it tougher to get back into the action. It's almost better to stay on the combat base where you’re still immersed in the thick of it, though I have a feeling the food in the hospital might be the same as the food in the mess hall, so it’s nice to get out for a real caf every once in a while.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed, lips compressing into a disconcerted grimace as your gaze danced warmly across that battle worn, plastoid kit hugging his body like a rigid second skin. “Well now I’m even more sorry I almost stole your caf.”  

“Don’t be,” Cody protested instantly, leaning back in his chair and shifting to rest his arm casually across the backrest. “I’m not. Not at all. In fact, I was going to ask yo—” 

A sudden chirp erupted from your holopad, it’s cry ringing loudly from the depths of your bag. You gasped, fingers releasing the last of those muffin remnants atop their haste to collect that singing device. 

“Maker!” you cried, eyes quickly scanning that interrupting message. “It’s baby time! I have to go. Um… thank you. This was really lovely, and… I wish I could stay, but… I… it’s time… she’ll kill me…” 

“Well let’s go then,” Cody answered atop a genuine chuckle, instantly returning to his feet and collecting their discarded napkins and wrappers from the table. “I’ll walk you back. And maybe we can talk about… I don't know… splitting another muffin next time I’m planetside?” 

“Sounds like a plan, as long as I get—” 

“Bottom. I’ll remember.” 

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Other written works here

[kurishiri]

15 . . . main story

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: mental breakdowns.

Around the time when the darkness of the night consumed the sky, we stood beneath the gas-lit lampposts of London.

Kate: So, this is the place where the auction will take place.

Elbert: That’s right...

The venue where the auction, hosted by Mister Bernard, would take place was a luxury hotel that was just recently built.

(It is a place someone like me doesn’t often come by...)

(...but for an auction that is selling illegally obtained goods, it’s quite a dignified place...)

(I believe William mentioned that it was connected to the leaders of England, so a lot of deals and transactions could be done illicitly.)

Elbert: ...Kate.

E: On the surface, this will be a relatively normal salon party...

E: ...so, I don’t think the people of the Company will harm the attendees.

E: But please stay close to me.

His arms wrapped around my lower back, making my heart sweetly throb.

Kate: Alright, and that goes for you, too, Lord Elbert.

K: If you ever start to feel uncomfortable or unwell, please tell me.

I made it clear through my words that I had remembered the time at the other party when Lord Elbert had been touched so directly that it made his face pale.

Elbert: ......I’ll be fine.

(...I thought he’d answer like that.)

It was clear from his answer that he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t hurt himself, and I gave him a bitter smile in return.

We entered the venue upon being guided by a manager.

Within the brightly illuminated hall, there were light foods and alcohol scattered around, and more and more people started to gather.

Kate: There’s a lot of people here...

Elbert: You’re right... it seems that the amount of ‘collectors’ in the country has increased more than I had thought.

(I wonder just how many attendees here... know that the goods were obtained through illegal means.)

(Or that this organization also does human trafficking.)

(Or that innocent people like Daisy were sacrificed in the shadows...)

When I looked at the people jubilantly smiling among the grand decor, a dreary feeling flooded my heart.

(No matter if they knew or not...)

(Regardless, that doesn’t change the fact that there is such a large amount of people here who supported these evil deeds.)

And, there were probably just as much people who were victims to the organization like Daisy, and I just didn’t know about them.

Elbert: ...Kate.

Kate: ...! Yes?

Elbert: You just have to look at me, and me alone.

Kate: Eh...?

Elbert: We will buy the blue diamond at the auction.

E: And the top of the Company will probably show himself then, with the transaction contract. We should be able to meet him then.

E: I’ll take care of the mission somehow, so...

When Lord Elbert explained the mission so matter-of-factly, a small smile suddenly played on his lips.

Elbert: So, please... don’t just think about things that are hard to bear.

E: You can just, look at me.

(...Could it be...)

(...he knew that I was thinking about the Company and Daisy...?)

(I’m sure Lord Elbert is feeling a lot of things in a place like this, too...)

But he was still considerate toward me, trying to distract me from my own negative emotions, and I felt my chest tighten.

(His kindness really... truly, knows no bounds.)

Kate: I will...I always will, Lord Elbert.

(...so that you can realize your own sadness and suffering.)

Elbert: ...Mn.

(Ah... come to think of it,)

(It looks like there is nobody approaching Lord Elbert anymore...)

Usually, there were gazes of appreciation and murmurs of admiration directed toward Lord Elbert,

but seeing that there weren’t such people here, I let out a sigh of relief.

Male guest: The blue diamond... I would really like to see it.

Female guest: Hehe, I wonder who will be the lucky one to get their hands on it.

It seemed tonight’s collectors were crazy about the blue diamond.

(In order to meet the top of the Company, Gabriel Bernard,)

(we, too, need that blue diamond.)

Kate: ...I hope, everything goes smoothly.

Elbert: That... won’t be a problem.

E: If it’s something that can be bought with money, all we have to do is pay its price.

—— Time skip ——

The air was chilly in the windowless room, and greed seemed to swirl around like a whirlpool.

Auctioneer: And next up, we have a necklace which was owned by a certain historical great! We’ll be starting this one off at three thousand pounds!

Historical items, paintings that looked as though they had been stolen from an art museum, an exotic white tiger...

As many beautiful things were brought up to the stage one after another,

the ‘collectors’ raised their paddles with their numbers written on it high into the air.

And as though the pieces on stage were being swallowed up by their greed, they were bought off, one after another.

(Really... how did they get their hands on all of this...?)

I started to feel down when I imagined ways they obtained these items — ways I had no chance knowing. But each time I did so, I would encourage myself otherwise.

(Right now, I have to focus on the mission.)

(Because, whether we are able to put an end to their evil deeds once and for all hinged on whether we could catch Gabriel Bernard by the tail.)

The greed and excitement soon escalated within the venue——

Until, at last, the special showcase was displayed.

(That’s...)

Auctioneer: This is the illusory treasure — our most greatest one too — the blue diamond! This one starts at ten thousand pounds!

(T-ten thousand!?)

Even the salary of those who work at a high end bank, which was around two thousand pounds at most a year, paled in comparison to this.

(After all, it’s 5 times their salary... and that’s the starting price.)

The price was in such a different league that it didn’t seem real.

Elbert: ......

Amid the voices reverberating in the venue, Lord Elbert steadily raised his paddle.

(...H-how are we going to pay for this...)

(Maybe Victor can withdraw money from the national treasury...? Or does Lord Elbert have enough funds to pay for it...?)

It’s not as though I’m the one paying for this, yet I can’t help but panic.

Auctioneer: We have bids at ten thousand! Is there anyone who wants to bid 10,500? That’s 10,500 pounds!

Several peoples’ paddles lowered.

Auctioneer: 10,600! That’s 10,600 pounds...!

More peoples’ paddles lowered.

Auctioneer: Ten thousand... seven hundred!

As the price continued to increase, the number of paddles that stayed up decreased in turn.

Gentleman attendee: ...Hey now, just how much higher is the price going to increase...

Madam attendee: The price of that blue diamond right now could buy a whole castle.

When the price exceeded 20,000 pounds, I could feel the people’s excitement in the venue seem to scorch into my skin.

The blue diamond was resting atop a dark blue velvet cloth, glittering beneath the spotlight.

Tanned man: ...29,000!

Auctioneer: W-we have a bid at 29,000...! Is there anyone else...!?

Elbert: ......

There were only two people left who had their paddles raised in the air.

The first was Lord Elbert, and the other was a man who appeared to be a merchant with tan skin, jewels adorning his attire.

Whether it was out of fear or excitement, the man’s breathing grew more haggard, in contrast to Lord Elbert, who was so quiet, he may have been devoid of life or vitality.

Elbert: ...30,000 pounds.

His voice was smooth as he continued holding his paddle up, and the whole venue gasped in surprise.

Auctioneer: T-that’s 30,000 pounds...! Going once, going twice...

Tanned man: Gh...

The man who looked like a merchant looked frustrated, and his hands that had his paddle raised started to shake.

Then, as if having given up, he slowly lowered his paddle.

At that moment, the sound of a wooden mallet reverberated in the room.

Auctioneer: And, sold! This illusory treasure, the blue diamond now belongs to the count for 30,000 pounds...!

At first, silence filled the room. And then, loud cheers suddenly burst out.

At that very moment, the blue diamond, expensive enough to send fear through me, was Lord Elbert’s.

Kate: W...we... did it...

(I still honestly can’t believe how expensive it got... it’s almost surreal.)

Elbert: Indeed... but this is only the start.

(...Hm? Wait a minute.)

Lord Elbert had now obtained the blue diamond, which was said to be the most beautiful thing in the world.

And yet, his profile showed no reaction — none at all. It made me remember the uneasiness I had felt.

(Because, this blue diamond would be sought out by everyone for its ‘beauty.’ And now, Lord Elbert has that.)

(But, unlike when he had got the ‘painting of the sea’... he didn’t look happy at all.)

Kate: Lord El—

When I tried to call out to him, though, the people around us stood up from their seats before flooding toward Lord Elbert, gathering around him.

Blushing noblewoman: I would expect no less from you, Lord Elbert!

Excited elder nobleman: To be able to get your hands on that illusory treasure... for someone your age, that’s quite a feat!!

Kate: Wah...!

When the wave of people started closing in, I stood up from my seat in a panic, and in an instant I was thrown out of the circle surrounding him.

Elbert: ...Kate—?

Kate: ...! Lord Elbert—

I could hear Lord Elbert’s voice from beyond the wall of people, but before I knew it, I could no longer see his figure.

(Oh no, the main part of the mission starts here... what should we do?)

Kate: Uhm... Sorry, could you please let me through...

I tried to squeeze my way through the throng of people, but everyone was caught up in excitement, so they didn’t bother to open a path for me.

(And also, Lord Elbert won’t be able to move with this many people around... lest he accidentally step on someone’s shadow.)

(Should I, wait for them to disperse on their own...?)

???: Excuse me. Could you perhaps be... Lady Kate?

When I turned around upon suddenly hearing my name, a young man who appeared to be a worker was standing before me.

Worker: I was told to bring you, Lady Kate, and Count Greetia to the VIP room.

Worker: However, it appears Lord Elbert is currently occupied... so would it be alright if I led you in first?

(VIP room... Mister Bernard will surely be waiting for us there.)

(If that’s case, it might be better to reconvene there than to struggle through this crowd.)

(This person might also be a member of the Company... but he shouldn’t make any reckless moves against the client who bought their special showcase item.)

Worker: I will bring the count in a little later.

Kate: ...Alright, I understand. Then, could you tell Lord Elbert that I’ll be leaving first please?

Worker: Yes, of course. Well, please come this way.

—— Neutral POV ——

Elbert: Could you... please move away?

Excited madam: To think you now have that illusory treasure in that hands, as expected of Lord Elbert!

Petite gentleman: When you officially receive the blue diamond, could you perchance allow me to touch it, for just a moment!?

Elbert: Please... move aside.

E: Coming through—

Pushing down the displeasure from the peoples’ excitement, voices, and gazes,

Elbert desperately looked around toward the direction Kate had disappeared to.

Elbert: ...!

Just then, within the throng of people, he spotted a lock of her hair from the corner of his eye.

Next to the door, she was talking with a man he’d never seen before.

Elbert: Kate—

When he tried to call her name,

she followed the man out of the door.

Elbert: ......Huh?

Manager: Count Greetia, Bernard would like to see you, so please, if you could come inside... Count?

Elbert: ...Move aside.

It was then he moved from where he was standing, trying his best to push through the crowd.

Excited madam: Oh, where could you be heading off to...

Excited madam: Eh, w-what is this—

Petite gentleman: Count...? Ugh... w-what, is this... a-aahh, no way...

The people among the throng who had reached out to him first were now backing away, their hands in their heads.

With each step he took, the faces of the people around him, originally having contained a crazed excitement, were now painted over with sadness.

Elder gentleman with a mustache: Gh... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, please forgive me——

Noblewoman in a frill dress: N-no... it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault...!!

Some broke down crying, while others shouted from the top of their lungs,

and, as if they were trying to run away from their sadness, they opened a path for Elbert.

Manager: W-where could you be heading to?

At the strange scene unfolding before him, the manager tried to restrain him.

Elbert: What is, behind that door over there?

Manager: Eh? A-ah... umm, it’s the backyard...

Elbert: Backyard...

Manager: Count? Please wait, I need you to sign the transaction contra—

Elbert: I don’t care.

E: I couldn’t care less about, something like that.

The crying, the shouts, and the manager’s faltering—

Elbert left it all behind him as he left the venue.

——From a higher level, a single man looked down at the scene below intently.

???: Ahh... what a truly beautiful sight...

???: This is surely it——this must be a work of art made by the hands of the gods...!

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[wanderinginksplot]

Refuge Chapter Four

Continued Delta Squad x fem!reader fic

Sorry for the late update, guys! I've had crazy writer's block, plus I'm trying to work through getting my sideblog un-shadowbanned. Anyway, here we go!

Word Count: 5,700

Warnings: Discussions of the Separatist occupation of Voubos, a condescending GAR officer, and more self-indulgent plot devices.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

A Proposal

Barriss Offee was a kind girl, if a little quiet. 

She had taken you directly to the Jedi’s clothing… supply. She hadn’t actually given the room a name, now that you thought about it, but she had brought you there first. You were grateful for that. The sonic shower on Delta Squad’s ship had removed most of the physical contaminants from your skin, hair, and clothing, but there was a film of river scum on everything and your tunic smelled like you had been wearing it for a month. 

Which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth. 

In any case, the Jedi Order had some spare clothing they let you have. The items were simple and well-worn, but your new leggings and tunic felt nothing short of luxurious. Barriss even managed to find a pair of soft boots for you.

When you were fully dressed once more, Barriss led you all to an expansive room filled with tables. A delicious smell came from a long table on one side of the room, but your guide seemed distracted by the group of people - made up largely of teenagers - calling greetings to her.

“There are only limited dishes at this time of the day,” Barriss explained, “but you have several options. Please, feel free to help yourselves. I will be nearby if you need anything.”

Delta Squad lingered uncomfortably, but you didn’t need a second invitation. You hadn’t eaten anything other than ration bars for two days, and they didn’t make the most appetizing meal. You had missed real food. 

Most of the dishes on the table were unfamiliar to you, but you made several choices based on scent and ended up with an overloaded plate before you knew it. Fighting the urge to take even more, you retrieved utensils and scurried off to a table while Delta Squad was still choosing their own meals. 

The tables were long and lined with benches of equal length. The Jedi scattered around the room seemed to have formed small groups. Most groups contained beings of similar ages, but there were more than a few pairs of older Jedi and younger students, or a single Jedi surrounded by a handful of fascinated younglings. You shook your head, still floored by the new realization that the Jedi were not only real, they believed you to be one of them.

No, not one of them, you internally edited a moment later. Your abilities weren’t strong enough to be those of a real Jedi. You just had some sort of connection to their mystical Force… That sounded strange and off-putting to you, but your instincts had saved your life more times than you could count, so you couldn’t be entirely ungrateful. At least, not until you learned what conclusions the Jedi Council had drawn during their private conversation.

The thought made you nervous enough that your stomach twisted, so you pushed it away and focused on your meal. You were halfway through the pile of food by the time anyone joined you: Boss and Sev on either side of you while Scorch and Fixer took spots across from you.

Your table manners were terrible, but you were too busy eating to worry about that. Some kind of spiced meat disappeared from your plate, followed by roasted vegetables. The spoonful of unidentifiable fluff you had taken turned out to be a type of starchy vegetable. You found that you didn't enjoy the long slices of herb-crusted fish. Whether that was because of the spices or because it reminded you of vomiting up river water and half-digested fish, you couldn't be sure, but you pushed it off to the side regardless.

When you finally slowed, Scorch was grinning at you. "You eat like a clone."

"My apologies," you said, wishing you had thought to grab a napkin only seconds before Sev handed you one.

"You don't need to apologize for that," Boss told you. "You must have needed it. What I do want to know is why you left the ship when we specifically told you not to."

You ducked your head, which gave you an excellent view of Fixer moving some of the starchy fluff from his plate to yours. You sent him a quick smile in thanks and turned to face Boss once more.

The intensity you had noted in him before was even more pronounced when you were sitting this close. You looked directly at him, then away again, unable to hold direct contact with those eyes.

"My mind was too loud," you admitted, shifting uncomfortably in your spot on the bench. "I couldn't stop thinking about Voubos and everything that happened there. I had to leave or have a breakdown. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't get you into any trouble."

Boss continued looking stern until he sighed and passed you the piece of bread from his plate. "Let us worry about the trouble. You had to get out. Did you find what you needed outside?"

"Not really," you admitted, then laughed. "Though when you're looking for a distraction, nothing beats being told your instincts are actually part of an ancient religious system."

"Do you think they're gonna give you a lightsaber?" Scorch asked. It was so far from the other questions on your mind that you could only stare blankly at him.

"The real question is whether she'll be tried for treason or if we'll be the only ones," Sev scoffed.

“They can’t!” you denied immediately. Your voice was too loud, and you choked on the bread you had been in the middle of eating. Sev thumped you between the shoulder blades a few times to help dislodge it. “I won’t let them.”

“You aren’t a general or a Jedi,” Fixer pointed out. “Technically, you aren’t even a citizen of the Republic. What could you do to stop them if they decided to court-martial us?”

“I’d…” you trailed off, having not really thought this far ahead. “I’d do something.”

Scorch snorted. “Leave the plotting to us, nattie. We’re better at it.”

Boss shook his head at him. “And you’re the worst of the whole squad, Scorch. Lay off.”

“Ouch, Boss,” Scorch tossed back, though his broad grin showed exactly how seriously he took his sergeant’s censure.

“What are you going to do if they do decide to accuse you of treason?” you asked, breathless with the idea alone. You were struggling under a surge of guilt at referring to it as their problem rather than one you had a share in, but Scorch had made a good point. Technically speaking… you were no one. “I mean, I would fight for you, but I don’t think it would mean very much. Oh! I could try to-”

“Easy, nattie,” Sev told you, half-laughing with his harsh voice. “I wasn’t being serious.”

“You-? Oh. So you… You’ll all be fine?” you summarized weakly.

“More or less,” Fixer replied with a shrug. “We might get a slap on the wrist for picking you up from Voubos, but we knew that was a risk.”

“You knew?” You frowned, suddenly realizing that you had done nothing but repeat things, ask questions, or ramble for the past few minutes. “I just don’t understand why you would take such a chance for… me.”

The men exchanged glances, something you pretended not to see while you paid attention to your nearly empty plate. 

“You helped us,” Boss told you. “And you did it when there was no benefit to you. You tried to keep us from danger on your world. And then the Seppies arrested you, burnt down your house, and were going to-”

He cut off what he was going to say and you glanced up at him curiously, that curiosity only deepening when you saw him shake his head. You glanced over at Sev and found a muscle dancing in his jaw, but he didn’t offer an explanation, either. 

“I never did find out exactly what they were planning to do with me,” you admitted carefully. “Execution, but… was there more?”

“Yes,” Sev said sharply.

“What was it?” you asked. “I don’t really know what more they would have done.”

“It’s better that way,” Fixer told you.

“Oh, but-”

“No, nattie,” Scorch said, cutting off your protests with a tone that was shockingly firm for someone who spent so much of his time making jokes. “Don’t ask.”

You closed your mouth and gave a small nod, but there was nowhere for the conversation to go after that. The table fell silent, and that silence stretched until Barriss reappeared just behind Fixer’s shoulder.

“The Council has not finished their deliberations yet,” she announced, “but I can show you some of the Temple if you would like.”

“Yes, please,” you agreed instantly, pushing yourself away from the table. 

When Delta Squad had gathered behind you, Barriss gave you all a measured look. “What exactly would you be interested in seeing? There are certain sections of the Temple to which you do not have access, but there are meditation rooms, study areas, extensive gardens…”

“We’re just following along, Commander,” Boss said, before you could ask what Delta Squad wanted to see. “Ask her.”

Barriss nodded thoughtfully, then took a step closer to you even as she lowered her voice. “If you’ll excuse me saying it, you seem… I believe you are off balance. I mean no offense, but you seem to need some peace. You may benefit from meditation.”

“I don’t really… meditate,” you admitted, feeling like that was an insensitive thing to say to a Jedi. You were struggling to think of them in a setting outside of a story, but they were often portrayed as defenders of the peace who meditated to retain or strengthen their connection to the Force.

“Perhaps now would be an ideal time to start.” Barriss’s smile was kind, even when faced with your hesitation. “Or we could find a later opportunity. Is there anything that puts your mind at ease? Any activity that allows you to concentrate while your mind rests?”

“Sewing,” you admitted, your face heating at her curious look. “Sorry, I just- The movements are simple and they just let me think about things when they don’t feel so… close.”

The silence that fell was thoughtful, but you still shifted your weight uneasily, worried you were making a bad impression. A presence stepping up just short of your shoulder gave you an odd sense of comfort.

“Do you have a room for sewing in this temple?” Sev asked from just behind you. “You’ve gotta fix these clothes somewhere.”

“We do,” Barriss agreed eventually. “It is far from the most impressive place, but I can show you if you wish. Are you sure you would not prefer to visit the library? Or the music room, perhaps? They are much more popular with outside guests.”

“I’d love to see the sewing room, myself,” Scorch told her, laying it on thick. “What about you, Fixer? Boss?”

“It would be interesting to see how much work goes into supporting the clothing needs for a group this large,” Fixer mused.

Boss took longer to reply, but he only said, “Whatever she wants.”

“Very well,” Barriss said, clearly doubtful but trying to hide it. “Follow me.”

—

Fixer hadn’t been lying; he did think it was interesting how the Jedi Order recycled clothing to meet the needs of such a large and diverse group of beings. Granted, a lot of it was probably born of necessity. The Jedi Order only gained financial support through donations from outside parties and a modest governmental stipend. The group didn’t earn credits in any way.

Not that they would be incapable of it, if they tried. The Jedi could farm out their skills to the highest bidder and be richer than anyone could dream. They would be persuasive lobbyists for the highest-paying politicians, frightful mercenaries for anyone rich enough to afford their skills, or unprecedentedly efficient thieves working on behalf of any organization who hired them. Hells, the natties on Coruscant would line up for blocks to have their future read by a real Jedi - anyone who could prove that their skills were more than just bravado and cleverly-concealed mechanisms.

But the Jedi did none of those things. 

Instead, they existed on what they had access to. They accepted donations of clothing from generous civilians and made sure that clothing lasted long enough to be used by generations of students from younglings to adults. The Jedi took their limited funds and used them to purchase what they couldn’t find or make for themselves, somehow finding enough spare to help anyone in the galaxy they could.

Even now, with most Jedi masters working as generals in the Grand Army of the Republic, they didn’t collect payment. They could charge insane amounts of credits to use their talents on behalf of the Republic, but they didn’t. For all the unfairness that the clones weren’t paid for their work, at least they knew that their superior officers weren’t collecting a paycheck, either.

Whether that made the Jedi more sympathetic or utter fools, Fixer couldn’t be sure.

Either way, he couldn’t help but appreciate the Jedi just for this room alone. You were happier than he had seen you since they had all been sitting in your comfortable home as you taught them all how to knit. Actually, you were happier than Fixer had ever seen a civvie, especially over something as trivial as a sewing room. But, considering you had lost your comfortable home so recently, you could use some happiness.

It didn’t hurt that your joy made your face glow. You weren’t beaming or even smiling more than usual, but there was a deep contentment that had settled over you as soon as the doors had opened to reveal the room. 

Scorch had given a slight exhale through his nose; that was as good as an exclamation of surprise for a clone trooper. Fixer privately agreed with his brother’s assessment. Commander Offee had been dismissive of the room, clearly of the opinion that they would find it underwhelming, but Fixer couldn’t see how. 

It was an expansive space, filled with small tables holding machines that whirred with flashing needles and rotating spools of thread. Light filtered down from the ceiling, though there were small lamps at every workstation that offered more direct illumination. A few beings, presumably Jedi, were scattered around the tables, working on garments. Some of them sewed in silence while others held soft conversations brightened by occasional laughter.

Overall, it was a peaceful setting. Even Fixer could concede that much.

Ahead of him, you were already speaking excitedly to Commander Offee: “Do you simply alter the clothes you have or do you create new ones?”

Commander Offee looked taken aback by the question but, fortunately, she gave a real answer. If she had been dismissive or mocking, Fixer would have been forced to say something that would have broken - or at least intensely bruised - the chain of command.

“We decide that on a case-by-case basis,” she explained. “Certain members of the Order come from a heritage that determines how they would dress, and their clothing needs are taken into consideration when deciding how to prepare clothing. Master Luminara and I are Mirialan. Our cultural background means that we need clothing that offers more coverage, along with additional cloth for our hoods and hair coverings. If items come from the Mirialan community - and they often do - they are offered to Mirialan Jedi before they are added to the bulk clothing storage. If pre-made items cannot be found or altered, we are allowed to create the necessary pieces from cloth that is donated to the Temple.”

“That makes sense,” you agreed easily. “Your cape is beautiful. Did you make it or was it donated to the Temple?”

“Neither,” Commander Offee admitted, running her fingers over the patterned fabric with a soft smile. “When I first became a padawan, one of my early assignments was to accompany Master Luminara to Begamore as she offered aid to a group of our people who had begun to steal from a nearby community. They were simply trying to support themselves in a place that had become hostile. The group accepted our aid, but we offered to help them build a better community so that their troubles would never be repeated.”

“Clever,” you murmured, your voice low and soft enough that the commander wasn’t pulled from her reverie.

“The assignment was meant to be a simple one, but we stayed for several months as we worked to create a place where our people were not only tolerated, but accepted.” The commander was still smiling, tattooed face alight with warmth. “Even in such a short span of time, my master and I watched as the community began to thrive. Eventually, we were called away, but one of the women gifted me this cape. She said I should have something from my own culture to carry with me.”

“That’s a lovely gesture,” you remarked.

“It was,” the Mirialan agreed. “We were summoned back to Coruscant to discuss the Secessionist Movement with Chancellor Palpatine, which of course, led shortly into the war. Master Luminara and I have been fighting ever since, but I have never forgotten the joy that stems from offering aid to those across the galaxy who need it.”

The air of peace that had been emanating from you dimmed slightly and Fixer frowned, but you only said, “With any luck, the war will end soon and the Jedi will be able to take up old practices again.”

“Yes, with luck, skill, and a great deal of training,” Commander Offee agreed. “But while we fight a war, there are still younglings who need clothing. This room remains as it ever was - filled with donations and Jedi working to shape them into necessary items. Would you like to see anything else in the Temple, or would you rather stay here?”

You hesitated, glancing around the room before admitting, “I would like to stay here for a little while. I don’t need any clothing, but I could help out if anyone needs it?”

Commander Offee smiled. “There is always a need for someone to mend tears in clothing. It is often torn from use or by excited younglings learning to augment their abilities with the Force. If that is truly what you wish to do, the repairs section is here.”

She led you to a section of the room with clothing piled high, small tags detailing what had been damaged. As you settled in to sew fastenings onto clothing or neatly close rips in fabric, Boss took a step toward Fixer.

Immediately, Fixer’s attention was on his sergeant. Boss didn’t keep him waiting long. “If it comes to an investigation about why we went to Voubos, I’m taking full responsibility.”

“Respectfully, no,” Fixer told him. 

Boss’s eyes narrowed, and Fixer couldn’t really blame him. He wasn’t typically one to argue, but this was something he didn’t intend to let slide… even if his sharp mind helped him guess exactly what Boss was going to try next.

“That’s an order, Fixer.” 

Fixer almost smiled despite himself. That had been exactly what he had expected from Boss. However, he managed to keep an even expression and a firm tone as he said, “No, sir. No disrespect meant, but I won’t let you take responsibility for something we all wanted. As your second-in-command, I could have argued and I didn’t. At best, you can claim half the punishment, but the other half belongs to me.”

“The other half of what?” Sev asked, dark eyes suspicious as he glanced between Boss and Fixer. “What’s going on?”

Scorch followed closely behind Sev. “Yeah, we wanna be included, too!” He tossed an arm around Sev’s shoulders.

Sev pushed Scorch’s arm away, making a disgusted sound. “I don’t want to be included in anything with you, Scorch.”

“Men,” Boss said tiredly. “Fixer and I were discussing how to handle the possibility that we’ll be held accountable for our side trip to Voubos. I want to take full responsibility. I’m the squad leader and the ranking officer. Any repercussions should be mine. I’ll make it an order if I need to.”

Sev snorted loudly and, for once, Fixer didn’t mind the display of insubordination. In fact, he agreed whole-heartedly that their Sergeant was being ridiculous. 

Scorch seemed to agree with Sev’s nonverbal dismissal. “Make it an order if it makes you feel better, Boss. We’ll just disregard that one, too. We’ve got the practice.”

Boss didn’t laugh… not that anyone had really expected him to. Instead, his jaw tightened and he tossed a firm look toward the rest of the squad. “There’s no reason for all of us to be reprimanded when I can take the blame.”

“Kark that,” Sev told him lowly. His rumbling voice held enough venom that it drew attention from the closest Jedi, along with Boss’s ire. In a concession clearly aimed toward placating the Jedi rather than the sergeant, Sev reluctantly tacked on, “Sir.”

“None of us agree, Boss,” Fixer summarized. “But maybe we should just see what happens. We don’t even know if the Jedi are going to go for formal discipline.”

“‘See what happens’?” Scorch repeated incredulously. “You feeling okay, Fixer? You always like to have a plan for everything, and a backup plan for that, and then a backup backup plan in case something goes wrong with the backup…”

Sev dug his elbow into Scorch’s ribs. “He’s helping us for once, di’kut. Don’t let your personality ruin it.”

Fixer glared at both of his brothers, but couldn’t deny that the comment had stung. Maybe he was tough on Scorch and Sev, but it was only because that was the best way he could find to keep them safe. Though he couldn’t deny that the ‘wait and see’ method was extremely out of character for him. He did prefer to plan everything down to the last detail. 

Now that it had been pointed out to him, though, Fixer couldn’t help but wonder about his own change of heart. What could have happened that changed a fundamental part of his personality so intensely?

Fixer’s eyes were wandering as his mind whirred, a common habit for him, but his gaze paused in its journey around the room when you glanced in his direction and offered a smile over the pair of pants you were mending. His lips quirked in response without his permission, and he stifled the emotion as a comlink beeped.

Commander Offee answered the comlink, listened intently to a conversation too quiet for Fixer to hear across such a long distance, then glanced over at Delta Squad. “The Council has asked us to return.”

—

You weren’t going to let the Jedi punish Delta Squad.

You had decided that much almost as soon as Sev had mentioned that repercussions were a possibility, but your determination had only grown as the squad insisted on going to see the sewing room. The men probably knew how to sew, if only for injuries or clothing emergencies out in the field. They might even enjoy it; you had never asked, so you couldn’t be sure. But you had a suspicion that none of them had a strong interest in sewing. In that case, they had pushed to visit the room purely so you could see it.

Even through the fear of being summoned in front of the Jedi Council once more, your heart warmed at their casual kindness to someone who could offer them nothing in return.

You frowned. On the subject of having nothing to offer them, you weren’t sure how you would keep the Jedi from punishing Delta Squad. You would have to come up with something, and you needed to come up with it soon. The doors of the Jedi Council chamber were already in sight.

When you entered, the buzzing preoccupation of worry was filling your mind, along with a distinct lack of galaxy-shattering epiphanies. And, as you stepped into the center of the room and glanced around at the gathered Jedi, it seemed you were out of time.

Earlier, many seats around the room had been empty, but most were now occupied. Even places that didn’t hold a physical occupant had been claimed by holoprojected beings. 

It was intimidating, standing in front of that group. The semicircle of chairs in front of you were filled with people watching you. None of them looked cruel or harsh, but all of them were serious, and your stomach twisted with nerves. 

Before your fear could shift into panic, you heard the shuffle of someone settling into place in the back of the room, along with the soft clearing of a throat. Boss was here, you could feel it. Even if the sergeant of Delta Squad wasn’t thrilled with your earlier disobedience, you had no doubt that he would speak on your behalf if the situation called for it. You weren’t alone. Your shoulders eased down slightly, and you finally felt as if you could take a full breath.

“Council members,” Master Unduli announced, drawing the attention of the seated figures. If any of them had been speaking before then, you were sure they would have stopped to pay attention, but they seemed to already be focused on the meeting. “We have gathered to discuss the woman Delta Squad found on Voubos. Or, rather, we have gathered to deliver the results of our discussion.”

The man from earlier, Master Windu, leveled his steady gaze at you. You did your best to return the look without fear. “Your Midichlorian levels are high. They are not high enough to grant you entrance into the Jedi Order, but we would like to offer you the chance to train with us.”

“What?” you gasped out inelegantly. “Why?”

Master Unduli spoke again. “There is a chance your Midichlorian levels will continue to climb. More importantly, you’ve been through a trauma. In a heightened state of emotional upheaval, there is a strong possibility that your abilities will appear in unexpected situations. We can help teach you control.”

“So…” you trailed uncertainly, trying desperately to gather your thoughts even as you spoke. “So I would stay here and learn how to control my… abilities?”

“Yes, in part,” an unfamiliar man with reddish hair agreed. “But we could also teach you to use your abilities to do certain things. From the point made by Padawan Offee, it seems as if you could aid the Republic with missions that require strategy and secrecy.”

“She is not a citizen of the Republic,” a male countered. “Why should she feel any real desire to aid us?”

“Actually,” you interrupted, glancing over your shoulder as subtly as you could. To your surprise, Boss wasn’t alone. The entirety of Delta Squad was standing in the back of the room. Scorch gave you a thumbs up and a wink. “I would like to help any way I can.”

“Why?” Master Yoda asked, not unkindly. 

You shrugged. “I lost my home and my planet, and nearly lost my life. We on Voubos were loyal to no one, but the planet fell to the Separatists anyway. I’ve learned a hard lesson about the price of neutrality - specifically, that there is no one to back you up. If it comes down to it, the Republic sent the men who saved my life. That already puts you ahead of the Separatists for me. I’ll help you because you’ve helped me. Simple.”

There was a beat of silence, a heavy one.

“As it happens,” a human male with a yellow stripe trailing across his nose said, “we’ve already come up with a way you can help the Republic. If you’re interested, of course.”

“I’m interested,” you assented immediately. 

A few Council members glanced around at each other in a way that put your nerves on-edge, but you waited for someone to speak. Master Windu was the first.

“We have a lot of missions that require what Master Kenobi said earlier: strategy and secrecy,” he told you. “We have a few Jedi who are gifted with those abilities, but they’re busy leading armies. Or, in some cases, busy with missions here on Coruscant.”

The man with the yellow tattoo met Master Windu’s eyes, inclining his head with a smirk. Windu didn’t smile back, but he gave a short nod before he finished, “We could train you in the basics of control and subterfuge, then send you out with squads who are working missions that line up with your abilities.”

“Squads-?” you started.

Master Unduli cut in. “I sense you share a bond with Delta Squad. They often go on missions that would require the abilities you’ve already shown. We could partner you with them for any secrecy-driven assignments. Is that something you would be interested in?”

“Train in the Temple, she should,” Master Yoda told her, his eyes traveling to you a moment later. “Much to learn, have you. Vicious and desperate, this war is, but no reason is that to send an inexperienced soldier out into the thick of a battle that belongs to us. Before you answer, think it over, you should. Whatever your answer… have a place with the Jedi, you will.”

“I- thank you,” you said after a moment. “I would like a day or two to think about everything.”

“In the meantime, you may stay here in the Temple,” Master Windu told you. “Padawan Offee  will show you to your temporary quarters. Delta Squad, you are dismissed.”

“One moment, General Windu,” someone interrupted. You glanced over to find a man wearing the gray uniform of a military officer. “There is an open investigation into Delta Squad’s conduct. I would like to collect this woman’s testimony before she disappears into the depths of this… temple.”

“Of course, Investigator Nylirk,” Master Yoda said, bowing his head slightly. “Proceed, you may.”

Nylirk turned his searching gaze on you. “I understand these men freed you from your home planet of Voubos. Is that correct?” 

You searched for a way to refute that, but came up with nothing. “Yes, it is.”

“Did they ever mention why they came to help you?” Nylirk asked. 

“They found out Voubos had fallen to the Separatists and were worried about my safety,” you reported. “If they hadn’t returned for me, I would have died.”

Nylirk seemed unimpressed. “Then they brought you back to a secure building run by the Grand Army of the Republic and let you wander the premises unsupervised. Did they ever offer an explanation for that?”

“No,” you said shortly, listening intently for any hint from Delta Squad about what you should say.

“I thought as much,” Nylirk said contemptuously. He directed his next comment over your shoulder, to Delta Squad. “There will be a full investigation into every part of this, then we will discuss disciplinary action.”

He had already started toward the four commandos by the time you found your voice. Maybe you wouldn’t have said anything, but the resignation on the men’s faces spurred you into action. “I made them do it!”

Nylirk paused, glancing back at you with disbelief written across his face. “You made these highly-trained men disobey orders and general security protocols?”

“Yes, I did,” you told him, stubbornly kicking your chin up.

Nylirk frowned. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible, Inspector,” Master Windu denied. “Improbable, perhaps, but she has demonstrated an impressive amount of skill in evading notice. Who is to say that she didn’t influence them? The Force can grow stronger in those who fear for their lives. Perhaps it grew strong enough for her to influence them.”

“Yes, that’s what happened,” you repeated firmly. “Sergeant Boss said earlier that it felt like he was being pulled to the spot I needed him to be. Who can really say when I started pulling? Maybe I wasn’t just directing them to a river, but to the specific planet.”

“And you’re admitting that you did this?” Nylirk asked.

You took a beat to give that question full consideration. “I didn’t do it on purpose, but I often thought about Delta Squad as I was being held captive by the droids. I… I wished they were there with me. Maybe that was enough to influence them, even over the distance between us. I’m new to this, you know.”

Scorch laughed at your joke and Fixer cracked a smile. Sev gave a small nod. But what really struck you was the look on Boss’s face. He looked… stricken by your admission. His dark eyes held more than a hint of guilt, and you hoped he would let it pass. There was no way he or Delta Squad could have helped you any more than they did. They had saved your life. As far as you were concerned, that was far more than you had expected.

“General Yoda,” Inspector Nylirk redirected. “Your best guess: is it possible that she influenced Delta Squad to come back and help her?”

Yoda sat quietly for a moment as your stomach twisted with nerves. If he didn’t back up your story, Delta Squad would be punished and there would be nothing you could do to stop it. You would have failed to uphold your promise to the commandos, and repaid them poorly for helping you.

When Yoda finally spoke, he said, “Mysterious, the Force is. Possible, it is, that she influenced them. Yes, very possible.”

Nylirk’s face twisted in displeasure. He bit out, “Very well. Report back to GAR headquarters for a full debrief and an update on your next mission.”

Barriss approached, gesturing toward the door of the Council’s chambers. “I’ll show you to an available room.”

You hesitated a moment. There wasn’t time for you to say goodbye to Delta Squad and you knew that, but you wanted to apologize for getting them in trouble. However, with Nylirk still watching you closely and the entire Jedi Council looking on, you had to content yourself with giving the ghost of a smile.

Delta Squad looked serious and coolly professional as they watched you leave with Barriss, but Boss gave you the barest hint of a nod, eyes warm. You fought back a smile. It was a drop in the lake you owed them, but you had done something right for these men.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! Extra thanks to all of those who have said kind things or asked questions about this fic. It has been a HUGE motivating factor for continuing to write!

Have a great day! 😊

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If you should be tagged and you're not, I'm sorry! I temporarily don't have access to my taglist, but I'll fix it as soon as I can get into the taglist again!

[alisheaburgess]

Quick Mini LOVE Reading PAC!!!

(Using Tarot Cards, but interpreted with with my system. Please lemme know if this showed you something in the poll at the end. 🥰)

Pick a number between 1-4. You can also watch all four groups if you wish. Don’t overthink it!

Disclaimer: This is for your viewing purposes only, this is not intended to tell you what to do and all decisions for your life are your own!!!

Group 1-

You are searching for a love you can’t even fully describe yet. You know it’s coming though. You are in a state of trust, whether that be in the universe or you are your future partner. You don’t know who they are or where you are going but you feel it’s gonna be perfect. It will be someone tailored just for you. It’s not a “you complete me” thing you are going for but a “we see eye to eye, regardless of where we are facing”… Let this be a little moon light on this dark path to let you know that you are indeed on your way, even though it’s been slow. It’s hard to travel in the dark but you are doing it. It will be so worth it!

Group 2-

You need to allow yourself to dream right now. Try different things out. What would you want in love? What feels nice? Where are some fun places you might meet? Perhaps you are thinking “how can I meet someone without going out?” And well, that’s fair… but there are ways! Take a bit to use your imagination but only in your mind for now. You don’t have to think of things to do just fun things that could happen. If you have a crush have fun with the idea. It doesn’t matter right now if this is your forever person, or even if they like you back! Just enjoy the funny feeling you have. What about them do you like? Have fun! You need to play with the idea of love being fun and not a necessity.

Group 3-

You have built something wonderful that you aren’t admitting to yourself or understanding/seeing. Do you have a crush on a friend? You have something you can give in way of redefining what something is that you have already built. It’s not changing something, except how you see it. This could be a friend that you thought was just a coworker or something. It’s a connection that was built around being something else. It feels heavily of a crush though 😅 Perhaps this is actually someone else who is crushing on you that you don’t see that way due to there already being a relationship you see them filed away as? You may like them, if you knew they thought of you in that way…

Group 4-

You were in the middle of being stable in your views of love and relationships. Something happened? It may be a person you met, saw… a relationship of people in your environment. But you have changed your view about love… and it may be a bit scattering. You have to leave your tower of protection to get this type of love you now want. But scarily, it’s enough that you really want to or feel a need to. This hasn’t made the tower somehow mobile though. You have to completely rebuild everything you built and lose something in the process. This may be leaving a relationship as well. Not leaving for another relationship but because you know you want more. Which is far scarier than knowing where you are going after you leave. But being scared is ok. You know you will not regret leaving but that doesn’t make it any easier no matter which way this reading is going for you. New can be scary. It may be beliefs you’ve grown up with. The new will suit you much better. It’s ok to start over, and it’s ok to be scared doing it.

Thank you so much for reading!!! I truly hope this helped! Please lemme know what you thought with a poll click 🥰😊

[vorish-wonderland]

It's me the anon who doesn't play twisted wonderland! I have a request, could you please write something very cruel with Jade? Maybe some sort of scenario where he toys with a tiny reader and is overall extremely mean. Kinda like your story "Serves you Right" where the Floyd broke the readers arm, like cruelty similar to that! And also plz have an ambitious ending!

Despite me not knowing much abt twisted wonderland I am obsessed with the way you write for that guy 😭

Includes: soft/safe-ish vore, biting, blood, ambiguous ending

★✦A Midnight Snack✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

You live a very quiet, usually peaceful, life in a building far too large for you. You find it quite nice, despite knowing your life could be in danger if you mess up at all and get seen by the... other people who reside here.

They're much bigger than you. They're basically giants, at least compared to you. Those people... don't take too kindly to people of your size. They seem to think of people as small as you as pests...

But that's fine. You deal with it just fine. Or at least, as well as you can. You often find the remains of people like you scattered about the place you call your home. It's hard to see that... but you deal with it as well as you can...

You only go out when you're sure those giants are all asleep...

But tonight...

Tonight was... different.

When you went out to get food, you saw... him.

"Oh my, what a surprise..." He kneels down in front of the counter to speak with you. "How small you are... I thought we had gotten rid of all of you... but you seem to have proven me wrong. Hello there, little one. Who might you be?"

"...(Y/N)." You decide to cautiously respond.

"Interesting, my name is Jade." He suddenly grabs you. "(Y/N) really is a lovely name... it really suits someone like you." He suddenly smiles, showing off his serrated teeth. "It's a shame no one will remember you."

Well... this was bound to happen sometime. You couldn't have kept hidden forever...

You're trying your hardest to stay calm... quite unfortunately, it doesn't work out too well.

"A-alright, hey, l-listen, y-you're not actually going to kill me, r-right-?" You nervously ask.

"Kill you?" Jade laughs boisterously. "Ahh, you're mistaken, little one. I'm not going to kill you, no, I'm going to eat you! And sure, that very well may lead to your death, but I assure you, it is not my intention!" He smiles politely.

"I-I'd really rather you not do that, r-regardless of what your intentions are..."

"Oh, if only I cared."

Jade gently lowers you down into his mouth, biting down on one of your legs. He applies pressure, slowly, slowly, slowly, as you struggle to escape his grasp.

It starts off feeling like a small prick as the tips of his sharp teeth poke into your calf... then, as the pressure increases, you begin to panic more and more.

Blood trickles out from the spots he bites down on... it runs down his teeth and drips slowly down onto his tongue. He smiles wildly and the pupils of his eyes dilate as he tastes your blood.

Then... he bites down on your leg as hard as he can, severing it from your body.

You scream out in unbearable pain as he sets you back down on the countertop. He quickly pulls out his magic pen and casts some kind of healing spell on you, almost instantly healing your leg to the point where the severed point is no longer an open, bleeding wound.

"Oh, do be quiet, little one. As much as I love hearing your screams and cries..." He closes his eyes, and swallows the part of your leg he just bit off. "Mmm... fufufu... we wouldn't want to alert anyone else to this fun we're having, would we~?"

Panicked thoughts race through your head, not a single one of them being coherent. There's only one real thought. Run. But you can't. You can't move even the slightest bit, all you can do is stare upwards at him in fear of this... predator.

"I have an idea, (Y/N)... I do so enjoy it when my prey decides to run from me... it's always so fun, seeing them think they have a chance of escaping me..." He smiles, and reaches for you. "Of course, I doubt you'll be able to get very far in your current state... but it would be so fun to see you try and escape. You know what? I'll give you a head start. You can have 10 seconds before I start chasing you! Go on, little (Y/N)~"

He begins to count down.

You can't move.

You can't bring yourself to move.

You're paralyzed in fear, even though every cell of your tiny body is SCREAMING at you to get out of there as fast as you can...

But you just can't move.

"...3... 2... 1..." Jade pauses for a moment, staring down at you. "Hm. What a shame. You didn't move at all. Oh well, that just makes it easier for me, I suppose."

Jade picks you up once more as you try to say something, anything... all you can let out is a pathetic whimper, however. How unfortunate.

He places you into his mouth, almost sucking on you like a hard candy before he swallows you down whole...

You're terrified. It's warm and dark and wet and you keep getting squished and squeezed as you're slowly pushed downwards...

His voice is muffled by the layers of flesh between the two of you... but you still hear him.

"What a wonderful midnight snack you were, (Y/N). And you were so cooperative, too~"

The air stings your eyes... it's hard to breathe...

"You know, you were quite fun to play with... maybe I'll let you out... maybe I'll let you live, just so I may play with you again sometime..."

You try to regain your balance, but you can't hold on to any surface without it stinging your hands and having your hands slip right off the walls you tried to hold...

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You don't really know how much longer you can keep your eyes open... it gets harder and harder to breathe...

"I'll think about it. But of course, don't count on it. For now, get comfortable, because I don't know when or if I'll be letting you out. Have fun, little (Y/N)~"

...

You slowly close your eyes, hoping he decides to spare you.

[hopelessromanticfantasies]

Hello! I just stumbled across your profile and I'm so excited to see we like the same things! Would you be interested in writing a Ship Captain x mermaid? Maybe the crew has hauled her aboard injured and he cares for her? Maybe some angst because she's not sure if she can trust him? Some hurt/comfort?

No worries if not! I hope you have a very lovely day regardless!!

A/N: It has been so freaking long since someone has sent me a request. I'm very excited. I hope this shall satisfy you even though it's not exactly what you asked for. Please enjoy anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched as my crew clamoured around together. "That's a big one!" "I've never seen a fish this large!" "It's not a fish, it's got a girl's face!" "Really?! I thought I was hallucinating from my hangover." 'A fish with a girl's face? What are they talking about?' I thought. "Alright break it up you lot, let me through!" I shouted above the others, pushing through the crowd as they barely parted to let me through. When I finally reached the source of everyone's curiousity I was surprised to see that there really was a fish with a girl's face. It was a mermaid. She was flailing about trying to free herself from the net she'd clearly gotten caught in, and she was beautiful... even with a scowl on her face. I'd heard stories about mermaids before. How every single one was gorgeous. How they hated humans. Unlike sirens they didn't intentionally bring sailors and pirates to their underwater graves but they certainly didn't mind it if one less human was sailing the seas. "You better cut me out of this thing!" She shouted, glaring at all of us. I quickly slid my dagger out and began cutting her loose. "Captain, are you sure you wanna do that? We could fetch a pretty penny from a mermaid y'know." "Yes, I do know." "The captain would never do something like that and you know it, don't even bother asking again." My first mate said. She knew me so well. "Everyone scatter! Get back to work." When I'd finished slicing all the ropes from the mermaid, I noticed the red blood dripping from parts of her tail and arms. The net would've been tight. "Do you think you can swim like this?" I asked her. Pale blue eyes pierced mine as she held my gaze. "You underestimate me pirate?" Her words were bitter and harsh like the waves that crashed into rock during storms. "No. Merely care that a mermaid not drown because she can't swim." "And why would that matter to you?" "Have you considered the possibility that I might not be a bad person?" "No and I won't." "I'll ask again, can you swim like this?" She is silent, though the confidence and anger does not leave her expression. 'She can't.' "What if I took you down to the water in a lifeboat and you hold on to the side of it while your tail is in the water? Would that help?" I ask. Her anger momentarily leaves her, replaced with confusion and hesitancy. "Yes." "Alright then. May I help you to the boat m'lady?" I ask. She nods and I scoop her into my arms before she can change her mind. She makes a squeaking sound wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. Then she slaps my chest. "You could've warned me." I can't help but chuckle. I place her into the lifeboat hopping in on the other side after her. "Captain?" My first mate calls before I can take us down to the water. "It's getting dark and you know too well it's even more dangerous at night the closer you are to the sea. What if there's a siren?" "I have my sword if things get frisky and you'll al be close by. I'm sure things will be fine." "Alright, just be careful." Once the two of us are down at the water the mermaid asks, "So you'd kill a siren in front of me?" I glance back at her. "Only if I had to. And besides I thought mermaids and sirens didn't like each other." "We don't." She crosses her arms. "But a siren is awfully close to a mermaid." "Well, I'd kill a mermaid if I had too as well." Her gaze quickly flicks back to me. "I think I'd kill anything if I had too princess." "I'm not a princess, captain." "Well then would you have me call you? Your name? That would be a far too trusting move for a relationship like ours don't you think?" I ask with a smirk. "Princess is fine." "Good, now do you need help getting in the water... princess?"

[cathy-gabby]

Thoughts are Thunking

November 1, 2024

It's October 31. The last day of the month; the last day of I’ll Be There tracking as well. For the past few days, there was a lot of in-fighting – Seokjin-biased fans vs ot7 for not supporting the song, Seokjin girlies amongst themselves for not standing up for Jin, for not doing much, blah blah blah. Now everyone has mellowed down and focused on working on last minute streaming and buying parties (and avoiding all the drama) to get Jin that Hot100 or BB200. (While writing this, Hourjinnie’s playlist is playing in the background. I am doing what little I can to help boost Jin’s pre-release song.)

I could write an entire thesis about the events of the last few days and why, even though it is heartbreaking, it is not at all surprising. But so much has been said and written I do not want to add anymore to the drama. I will just write my scrambled thoughts here lest I will combust. Besides, my tumblr is all for me, a repository of my delusions and distress. If, somehow, you have lost your way here, please leave quietly; you do not want to be at the receiving end of my scattered and unhinged thoughts.

I’ll Be There – 90s Baby

I cannot stop gushing about how I love IBT: the rock musicality of it, Jin’s rock voice that fits it to a T, the MV, the styling, everything. I feel transported to 90s MTV and early 2000s The OC and One Tree Hill. The MV itself is a story on its own. So many analyses have been posted on X about the meaning of the MV but this is the one that resonated most with me.

There was also another one that talks about how the MV is a reflection of BTS’s history but I could not find it anymore on X. In a nutshell, that analysis talks about how the MV starts with Jin singing with no audience (BTS as nugus), then the kids watching him amusedly (BTS with few fans), then the teenagers and people from all walks of life enjoying his song (BTS and their worldwide fans), and then at the end, just Jin singing and dancing alone  - that regardless of whether the fans are there or not, Jin (or BTS) will always “sing for you”.

Personally, the song is an ode to the halcyon days of my youth (gosh, I sound so pretentious using this phrase :-D) – being carefree and free, loved and in-love. That is why I love it so much.

Happy US, Happy Worldwide

With how the promotion is done for IBT and Jin’s upcoming schedules, one can safely assume that Happy will be heavily promoted in Japan and Korea. I have moots on X who lament on how his album promotion seems to be shortsighted when he could have easily followed JK’s path to worldwide pop phenomenon. Hah! In my humble opinion as a nugu, Scooter and Bang will never allow anyone to overshadow Golden. That company-paid article on Billboard proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Scooter and Bang believed themselves to be responsible for JK’s success. And with how Scooter’s position is precariously dependent on Hybe’s success in America, anyone getting nearly if not the same success as JK without Scooter’s hand will put into question his credibility. So, no, Jin and Happy will not get the same promotion and payola in the US and worldwide if he is not going to kiss Scooter’s and Bang’s dirty asses.

Superstar Jin, Debut Jin

Sometimes, I just wish Jin to be very selfish and bully his way into getting what he deserves now that he is in his solo era as a payback for the years and years of company mistreatment. But knowing Jin, he will never compromise his values and principles. For someone who believes that music can be enjoyed in honest ways, he is hauling his ass off doing all these promotions, nudging the fans to the right direction.  Tons and tons of unique POBs so fans will buy more albums. YT and TV contents so the gp will get to hear his songs. Highlighting diversified music platforms like Apple Music and Amazon because YT and Spotify are scammers!! Video calls. Hi-touch. Music showcases. Heck, I will not even be surprised if Jin will also be busking in Myeongdong or in the Han River like what Coldplay did in their promotion of Moon Music.

The way I see it, Jin sees himself as a debut solo singer introducing himself again and his music to his fans by doing all these promotions. Rather than having the fans edifying idols to superstardom through heavy promotion and pandering to fans’ sexual fantasies, Jin of BTS sheds off his superstar status and brings his real authentic self and his original music down to the level of the fans. He is not circumventing his way to success; he is immersing himself in the process, meeting fans and the gp along the way, without being overbearing and blatantly aggressive.

Wootteo is Jin, Jin is Wootteo

That is why he uses Wootteo to do the promotion for him. Rather than belligerently doing it himself, he hides behind Wootteo to promote TA, to say goodbye to the fans, to welcome himself back after military, and now to support Happy. Now, Wootteo (Jin) is a collaborator on the BTS IG channel, cross-posting photos from the plushie’s account, rather than from his own. He is and will forever be humble, modest, and unassuming, that we are left wondering if he is even aware of his own superstar status despite constantly claiming as such in jest. Besides, for those who want Jin to remove his clothes so people will buy his album and stream his songs, here is Wootteo showing off his rounded butt. The guy does not even have his clothes from head to toe – what else can you ask for? Conservative, my ass!

OT7 and Hybe

Yes, Jin is conservative. In an industry that is mired with scandals and dirty tactics, he remains highly principled and decent. How many times has he ended up in hot water with BH and Hybe for disregarding whatever narrative the company wants because it is against his own values? Jin does not want to be told. Period. He is not a puppet that blindly follows what the company wants. Obviously, he pays for it. Hard. The member with the least lines? with only few seconds of screen time? with no company support during ME bullying? with the most hardworking, loyal, but victimized fans? Yes, that’s Jin.

Do the fans do anything about it? Seokjinnies and Seokjin-biased armys would call out the company at the risk of being tagged a solo by the so-called fandom. How many Seokjin accounts were forced to go ia because of bullying and name-calling. Time and time again, the fandom purports the idea of ot7 but when it comes to Seokjin, they are deaf, mute, and blind. And yet, they would harshly lash out on anyone that calls out the company for mistreatment. With the way they defend the company, one wonders if they are really ot7 or hybe employees. The victimization of ot6 never stops but for them, Seokjin willingly chooses to have the least lines and screentime. Hah! Logic is never their strongest suit. They are simply spouting whatever narrative the company wants them to believe. They’re like the vermin of Hamlin, following the pied piper to their demise. Ironically, now that the company is in quagmire, the so-called ot7 are now calling Seokjin the number 1 company defender and most favored member. Well, how I wish that to be true so Jin gets the millions of payola and promotion that others get.

BH Favorites

Of course, we all know who are the company favorites. Hybe does not even pretend to hide it. Yet their fans would always claim that their fave is a victim of ugly mistreatment. Either they are truly not happy with how their fave’s career is handled or they are simply masking the blatant favoritism by changing the narrative. At the very least, each member has free reign of what and how to promote but the scale of the promotion is now up to the company. And with their favorites, the company pushed too hard for their promotion and blatant payola one wonders if they have already received their ROI.

Jin was and never will be the company’s favorite. Again, we go back to him doing his own thing without compromising his values. Unfortunately, in Korea, obedience is key and for the rest of the world, sex and flesh sell.

Running Wild

So Jin is doing it the long and honest way. I am running wild with nervousness for him. I want I’ll Be There to do well on the charts so that he will know that we are very excited and very happy for his album. I want him to be as successful, if not more successful than the rest of the members. He was waiting patiently for almost two years, letting his fellow members shine and supporting them along the way. It is now HIS TIME. And he has been working hard since discharge. For all HIS fans. I want him to feel and to know that he is loved by his fans by getting the accolades and success that he truly deserves. I want him to be HAPPY.

I will be HAPPY, too, yes, but I will be very anxious as well because I just really, really want him to get the desires of his heart for this album.

I just love him so, so much.

[ghostofchaosyettocome]

My @twewysecretsanta gift fic for @voicefromthecorner

Prompt: Neku, during his 3 years in Shinjuku, reaches a low point of loneliness and imagines a meeting with his friends to help him get through it. Even Joshua and Mr. H are there. Each one inspires him in a different but valuable way, and he ends the imagined spot with strengthened resolve.

If you had told Neku he would end up spending an ungodly amount of time in the dilapidated ruins of what was once Shinjuku, he would’ve told them off for telling such a terrible joke.

Unfortunately, it was reality, leaving him completely alone save for the lingering scattered thoughts of those who once called Shinjuku home. They weren’t exactly the best at conversation (he’d tried), and while there was Coco, her appearances and length of stay were unpredictable. It was ironic really; before the first time he find himself in the UG, being isolated and left alone was exactly what he wanted – now he wanted anything but.

He had his phone, which by some miracle of the UG the battery never died, but also being in the UG meant he couldn’t use anything save the camera and notes. Not that he hadn’t tried texting his friends in a vain hope the broken Shinjuku would allow him to bend the rules to get something out.

But it didn’t work.

Every message he tried to send simply sat there, mocking him with ‘message failed to send. Try again?’

He knew he was beginning to lose it when he tried playing tin pin slammer against himself.

/

Neku was leaning against one of the invisible walls acting as the boundary of where Shinjuku ended, absently staring at the date on his phone: December 25. It mocked him mercilessly; a stark reminder of how long he’d been stuck in this hell, of not being with his friends. Beat would have told Rhyme and Shiki what happened, but it had been so long, and Neku hadn’t come back – did they know he hadn’t been erased? Or were they left thinking he was gone for good?

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Regardless of what they knew, he hoped they managed to find some way to celebrate the holidays. Shiki probably made a Santa outfit for her piggy, and spent the day with Eri before meeting up with Beat and Rhyme. They’d met at Hachiko, with the brother and sister duo wearing matching Santa hats; Beat having decked out his skateboard in lights. Shiki would try to convince Neku to join in on the festive dress up, eventually getting him wear a pair of reindeer antlers to go with Mr. Mew. They’d exchange gifts perhaps, before heading to WildKat. It would be the perfect end to the day…if he wasn’t stuck in limbo.

It wasn’t fair.

Neku stood up abruptly, banging his fist on the wall. It shimmered, but refused to break. “I shouldn’t be here!” He yelled, not letting up on the wall. “You hear me?! I should be out there, not here! I didn’t ask for this!”

He'd survived the Reaper’s Game, found friends and actually started to finally enjoy life – but in the blink of an eye it was cruelly snatched away from him. What had he done so wrong that he deserved this? Why couldn’t he just be left to hell alone to just be able to live his life?!

“IT’S NOT FAIR!” He screamed, hitting the wall as hard as could. It remained stubbornly unchanged, laughing at him. He rested his forehead against the cool surface, his throat tight and his eyes stinging. “I did my time…just let me out, please…even if I have to play the game one more time, I don’t care…”

A laugh from somewhere behind. An annoying, all too familiar laugh. “Aw, c’mon Neku, I didn’t think you were the type to give up so easy.”

“You think this is easy?!” Neku spun around, ready to give the composer hell –

But there was no one there.

“Josh…?” He looked around, but there was no sign of the blonde.

The laugh came again from the remains of a nearby alley, and he took off after it.

“Show yourself already! This isn’t funny!”

He didn’t find Joshua, instead reaching a dead end with a mural that had managed to stay miraculously intact: a ship struggling upon a stormy sea, with a bright lighthouse just barely peaking out over the waves.

“There’s a good message there, if you pay attention.”

Neku frowned, slowly turning around to this time, to find Mr. H standing a handful of feet away. “And what message would that be?” Neku asked bitterly. “That everything you want is will always be out of reach?”

Hanekoma chuckled, shaking his head. “No, take a closer look. That ship is close to the lighthouse, but can’t see it. It would be a real shame to give up now when they’re so close.”

“What are you talking –” Neku looked back to the mural, and back to Hanekoma, only for the producer to be gone.

Neku sighed deeply, letting himself slide down the wall. Was he seeing things, or had Joshua and Mr. H actually been here? He supposed it didn’t really matter, since they were gone now. Although…he looked up at the mural above him, the angle hiding the lighthouse entirely. He knew it was there from before, but from here was clear the crew on the ship didn’t. Mr. H had a point; if they gave up now and sunk into the water it be a tragedy. They were so close to safety, and yet they never made it.

…Mr. H never pointed anything out without reason, could it be his own lighthouse was just out of view? Could he dare hope for that possibility?

“Yo phones! What you doing thinking so hard? You’ll get lost in there!” Neku looked up, to where Beat and Rhyme were standing where Mr. H used to be. “You just leave all the heavy stuff to me, and everything will be okay, aight?”

“You didn’t give up on us, and we won’t give up on you. We’ll be waiting for you.” Rhyme chimed in with a smile.

“Hey, Neku? You remember back in the reapers game, when I told you about my entry fee?” Shiki was standing in front of him, fidgeting with Mr. Mew. “You believed in me then, gave me the confidence to be okay with my own appearance.” She held out a hand. “Well, I believe in you too. I know you’ll find you’re way back to us.”

Neku reached out and took the hand, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Thanks, guys. I’ll see you at Hachiko.”

The next moment he was standing, and while he couldn’t see the others anymore, he could still feel them; their presence a warmth chasing the loneliness away. Shinjuku wasn’t exactly a small city – it was more than likely he hadn’t explored it completely, and next time he saw Coco he’d get her to help search.

He would reach his lighthouse, to where his friends were waiting.