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irisintheafterglow · 7 months

Note

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him.

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?”

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.”

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds.

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?”

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.”

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.”

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait.

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter.

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines.

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does.

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see.

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.”

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro.

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.”

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.”

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor.

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly.

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #ask iris!

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 11 months

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I don’t think Jason has ever hated Tim

I recently revived my Jason Todd hyperfixation from its torpor and realized I had... Means and Ways of reading as many comics as I want for free, so I made the transition from Fanon Only to having read Lost Days, Under the Red Hood, Teen Titans #29 (where Jason fights and beats the tar out of Tim), Hush, Red Hood and the Outlaws (the majority of both runs), Red Robin: The Grail, Batman and Robin: Streets Run Red, Green Arrow #70 - #73 (where Jason kidnaps Mia), Battle for the Cowl, and a smattering of other bits and bobs, all within the last month.

I have come to the conclusion that the idea that Jason hated Tim before slowly learning to be okay with him is completely backwards.

Jason starts respecting Tim as a fellow combatant after basically their first meeting, and was sympathizing with him even before. Fandom talks a lot about how Jason repeatedly tried to kill Tim, but I think there’s a good argument to be made that actually Jason has never tried to kill Tim, and there’s a better argument that Jason has never tried to hurt Tim out of a dislike for him.

Tim is the one who feels viciously betrayed by Jason, hates his guts, and depending on if you blend in the New 52 either learns to begrudgingly like him or just stays hatin.

Obviously I need some proof here, since this goes completely against the grain of every relationship interpretation I’ve ever seen for them, so approximately seven miles of character analysis under the cut lmao

I’m gonna try to go in chronological order of the characters’ history here, which means we’re starting with Lost Days, and Jason’s first reaction to finding out there’s a new Robin:

This does not look like anger to me.

Lost Days is only six issues long, and this is the entirety of the pages devoted to Jason’s feelings on Tim. Jason succeeds in a plan that would have almost certainly killed Batman if Jason had gone through with it. Jason undeniably has Joker dead to rights at one point, but lets him go. Jason at no point in this story attempts to harm Tim at all.

Now for Hush.

Context for fanon only folks: this is where the “throat slitting” bit happens.

Context for a lot of confusion: I don’t know if Jason is the one who holds Tim hostage or not.

In the original Hush plot line this is only Clayface; Jason isn’t here at all. It was later retconned in Under the Red Hood that Jason was actually in this fight for... some amount of time. It’s highly unclear to me when they swap out. Probably because originally, they didn’t swap out. Oh well! In either case, it’s now canon that Jason coached Clayface on his acting, so for the purposes of this essay, Imma hold Jason responsible for the throat damages and the words said regardless of who did what!

Right off the bat: this is a hostage taking, not a murder. Yes, Clayson Jayface does nick Tim’s neck and absolutely makes the threat of murdering him to Batman, but it’s clearly a threat. Like, look at this panel:

He is talking a lot. This isn’t an attempt to kill Tim, it’s an attempt to screw with Batman. No matter who this is, they have every reason to expect that Batman will stop them before they do any permanent damage. Can you see that little, blurry, half-hidden line of red? Lets look at what the damage was later on:

The bleeding was stopped by a bit of cloth, some pressure, and he’ll need stitches eventually, but they can clearly wait, and Tim doesn’t seem alarmed. That’s enough to scar, and enough that it is perfectly reasonable for Tim to assume that he would have died if he hadn’t been rescued.

However, Jason being deeply protective of kids is a reasonably consistent character trait. “You really think I’m gonna bring the pain to a ten year old?” Even at Jason’s most villainous, he is willing to put himself in danger in order to protect his own sidekick Scarlet. I think it would be very out of character for him to have gone through with it. Combined with Jason’s later actions and the general fact that a hostage is pretty useless dead, I come to the conclusion that Jason was bluffing.

It is ambiguous though, and I admit that this is probably the weakest link in the “Jason never tried to kill him” chain.

But enough of that, was he angry with him? Is the hate there?

I argue no, and that really there’s no emotional investment in Tim at all. In terms of hard numbers the pages Jalay Toddface spends holding Tim hostage is 3 and the number he spends fighting Batman is 13 and the number of times he even so much as LOOKS at Tim is ZERO, like actually, literally ZERO TIMES. He does not spare poor Timmy a SINGLE GLANCE.

Now make a special note here because those three pages of no eye contact from someone who might not even be Jason are the ONLY times that Tim is called Pretender or Imposter.

I’m relying on this research done by Kiragecko: https://kiragecko.tumblr.com/post/128411908944/bat-sibling-interaction It only goes up to Battle for the Cowl, (as does this essay it turns out, I just don’t know how to bridge between that and the New 52) so it isn’t every interaction ever, but it’s still excellent research, go leave a like.

According to them: “Comments: Tim thinks about Jason a lot while he’s first training. He imagines the former Robins giving him pep talks, and uses them to fight off fear gas. When Jason comes back, though, Tim’s really nasty, especially in his head. Jason, however, is somewhat respectful. He usually calls Tim ‘Tim’, and seems to kind of like him. ‘Pretender’ and ‘Imposter’ are things that CLAYFACE said, not Jason.“

How many times are those said? Once. Each. That’s it. As a comment under the Jason and Tim post done by Kiragecko points out, “Replacement” doesn’t even get used.

Under the Red Hood is basically THE Jason Todd comic. To my memory he doesn’t interact with Tim in it. However, it does contain that aforementioned reconning! So we get to see his reasoning during this encounter.

And it very very clearly isn’t at all about Tim.

Moving on to Titans Tower, which is indisputably focused on Tim: When he fights Tim, he is absolutely violent and over the line, but he’s NOT out of his head. Jason is clearly very lucid and careful about what he’s doing.

Is he angry? Of course! He’s angry at the Titans who in his mind cared about him way less than their other members, and accepted a replacement robin as though his life, his whole flesh and blood self, was something that could be so easily forgotten and swapped out.

But I think it would be a mistake to assume that Jason’s at all mad that he isn’t Robin anymore.

A very interesting direct parallel to this fight is when Jason kidnaps Mia, Green Arrow’s sidekick Speedy, fights her, appeals to their commonalities and encourages her to solve crime his way rather than Green Arrow’s way.

In both scenarios Jason engineers a way to isolate a sidekick and attempts to teach them something through combat. He makes a direct appeal to them against their mentors, and seems genuine about what he’s saying. He also lets both of them live, and with Mia is honestly pretty damned polite about it all. At least, as polite as a guy can be about kidnapping you and encouraging you to try to kill him in your high school gym that he definitely should not know about.

The plain fact of the matter is that Jason knocked Tim out, had time to paint his whole ass name way up high on a wall, and did not kill him. This is the same Jason who just prior to that took out all of Tim’s allies non-lethally. The same Jason who kept Mia’s protector’s busy non-lethally. The same Jason who cuts Mia free and gives her weapons back and starts slow in their fighting to make sure he doesn’t hurt her too badly. The same Jason who seems to feel very strongly that killing, trafficking, or selling drugs to kids is an unforgivable offense and very clearly sees Tim as a kid.

Quite frankly, this reads not like a murder, and not like a jealous beatdown, but an attempt to convince Tim that he’s going to get himself killed and needs to get out while he still can. In Jason’s mind before they meet, Tim is purely A Robin, a kid who deserves better than to be put into danger against the same monsters over and over again until he finally slips up and dies.

Is this a hairbrained and back asswards way of doing that? Yes! But it does track for someone who tries to do all of his talking through his actions, which do speak louder than words, but unfortunately C-4 loudness is not actually a significant boon to nuanced communication.

If you want to put it in a less charitable way (and maybe we should, this is a bonkers asshole move on Jason’s part no matter how you slice it) then we can say Jason is testing Tim, trying to see if this one has what it takes to be better than he was, to survive where he couldn’t. Personally I think it’s a mix of both, and for this end of that emotional mess: Tim passes the test.

Jason leaves while talking about Tim in present tense, showing that he has every expectation of Tim being alive, and praises him in the process:

Did you know that the fun panel of Tim kicking Jason in the nuts is actually from the same comic run, about twenty or so issues later?

Did you know that the argument they were having starts with Dick and Tim wrestling with Jason and accusing him of a murder he did not commit, and in fact tried to save the victim from?

Did I mention yet that the death in question was of Duela Dent, aka the JOKER’S DAUGHTER, whom Jason caught attempting to hold a young woman hostage for ransom? And that Jason repeatedly shot her getaway balloon instead of her and then tried to save her life immediately afterwards despite the fact that she was going to let the hostage plummet to their death? And it is implied that part of the reason he’s so easy on her is because of “Once a Titan always a Titan” loyalty, with this being our first clue that Jason isn’t the one shooting at her anymore?

Did I also mention that he comes to her funeral in part to be around Donna (the starry leotard lady whose statue he smashed) because it’s nice to be around people who understand being displaced by their own death? And that the one who sticks up for him in this scene is Donna?

At risk of negating my own thesus here, I’d say it’s reasonable to think that maybe Jason feels rage-hate for Tim in this “kicked in the dick while Dick grins smugly” moment.

Lets go now to Robin #177 at the tail end of the 1993 to 2003 run - Bruce has “died” and Tim hasn’t yet gone on his epic quest to find him. Tim finds Jason unifying street gangs with the intent to bring them under control and solve the current crisis. He appeals to Tim for help with this, in fact he comes off as almost puppy dog eager to work with him, and seems really sad when he says fuck no.

This is one of the first fights in which Tim really holds his own against Jason, and I am very proud of him, yes :3

This gets Jason arrested. Then Tim actually goes through with a heavily modified, less violent version of Jason’s plan that Jason didn’t think could work. A few issues later, when Tim decides that he’s going to try to honor what Bruce would have wanted by springing Jason out of jail, Jason makes note of that.

Jason is pretty damned civil at their next meeting, even though Tim makes it pretty damned clear he doesn’t want him around.

And now... we have to talk about Battle for the Cowl.

I’ve seen it described as a masterclass in how NOT to write Jason Todd, due to it portraying him as being an absolutely off his rocker anger murder violence man. I am inclined to agree.

In this three issue comic Jason Todd has been dRiVeN mAd (in the most bullshit comic sense of that word) by Bruce’s will... telling him to go to therapy. Yeah. So uh, he dons a Batman suit to shoot people in AND pretends to be Black Mask so he can enslave a bunch of villains Amanda Waller style, and like it gets weird from there. It is an extremely jarring transition from that last scene to GUNS BAT HATE MAN.

He still does not hate Tim in it. I really, seriously thought I was going to have to make a lot of excuses for this portion but then the more I read of it the more vindicated I was cause let me repeat: One of the most unhinged with Bat hate and crazy juice versions of Jason ever put to print does not hate Tim at all.

Hell, he likes Tim! He compliments him!

And on top of that, even though he is MUCH more lethal against his fellow robins when they attack him - Jason straight up shoots a ten year old Damian in the chest. It’s fucked. - There is still evidence to suggest that Jason deliberately didn’t kill Tim when he had ample opportunity.

Jason first of all never hunts Tim down. I’ve heard Battle for the Cowl described as Jason tracking Tim down or kidnapping him or going after him to force him to Be His Robin, but that’s just not how it goes.

Instead he waits for Tim to come find his Batcave, disorients him, and goes for a ton of surface cuts. He only actually goes for a real body blow after Tim picks up a crowbar and beats Jason across the face with it a few times.

(Again, proud of you Timmy)

After the stabbing, Jason doesn’t just leave Tim there; this isn’t a matter of hurrying on before he could check. He’s seen dragging Tim off. When Nightwing later comes to rescue him, Dick is downright certain Jason is lying to him about Tim being dead because Jason is refusing to show him the body and Dick figures it’s because he knows there’s no body to show (if in part because he can’t let himself believe Tim is dead without hard proof).

Tim himself wonders about this, noting that the batterang was rusted and shattered on his armor.

Sure, Tim used playing possum to make his pulse slow to a near stop for a while, maybe that fooled Jason, but keep in mind that BRUCE taught Tim that skill, and if there’s one thing these comics have established, it’s that Jason is dangerous precisely because he is so intimately familiar with the techniques of the Bat. Jason even makes specific note of the fact that Tim being trained like Bruce and fighting like Bruce would be his downfall at the beginning of their fight.

The whole comic leaves me wondering just how much of what happened went completely according to Jason’s plan. I really would not put it passed him to engineer a ‘death in the family’ recreation for the next Batman in line! As much as I agree that this is garbage characterization for him in many many ways, I do think Jason makes a fantastic villain. I love to see him run rings around the Bats in some places, and make lemonade out of getting his ass kicked in others.

No matter how we interpret the stabbing here though, what does seem very clear to me is that Jason makes the Be My Robin offer to Tim first and foremost because he thinks pretty highly of Tim! He’s been rejected by Tim at least three times over but keeps holding a hand out for him. This does not seem like Tim hater reaction hours here!

Also that whole thing about kids being dragged into this vigilante life irresponsibly? Yeah that’s still there!

I have TRIED to find evidence that Jason hates Tim at like literally any point here. I have gone through the shit people point to. I have looked at the context around those and dug up more obscure interactions for second and third views. Everywhere I look I just see more instances of Jason complimenting Tim!! It’s driving me nuts!

The only conclusion that I can come to is that people read this stuff and just trust that Tim is right about Jason. Tim’s internal view waaay more closely resembles fandom interpretation. Tim assumes that Clayson Toddface would absolutely have killed him in cold blood, that Jason beat the shit out of him purely to prove he was stronger, that he’s a brute, a moron, an active danger to society, and that every bit of leniency given to him will result in betrayal and death.

I don’t have clearer proof for it, but I also don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Tim probably believes Jason has it out for him and holds him responsible for his replacement.

So yeah. As a fascinating reversal of my expectations going in: I don’t think Jason has ever hated Tim, but boy fuckin howdy has Tim HATED Jason.

#jason todd #tim drake #character analysis #jason todd and tim drake #jason todd & tim drake #jaytim #jason todd/tim drake #robin #red hood #red robin

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imaginedisish · 2 years

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Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!

Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*).

Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,221

The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.

But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.

It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.

“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.

“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.

“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.

You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.

You quietly wish he was still looking at you.

And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.

“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.

If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.

He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.

“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.

“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.

He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.

After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…

No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.

“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.

All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”

“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.

The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.

He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.

He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.

You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.

He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.

Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.

Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.

“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.

Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.

He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.

You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.

He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.

You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.

He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.

You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”

You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?

But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.

“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.

You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.

“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.

You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”

He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”

His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.

You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.

“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.

“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.

His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.

He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.

“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.

He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”

You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”

Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.

“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.

You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.

“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.

Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.

He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.

His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.

“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”

You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.

He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.

“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.

He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.

“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.

He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.

“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”

“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.

“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.

He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.

“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”

He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…

“Always.”

Yeah, I saw sparks

And I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

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everlasting-rainfall · 29 days

Note

Hi Rainfall how are you?😊 I hope that you're doing well. This is my first request i hope you don't mind answering Can you please do a scenario of yandere Sabo falling in love with a member of the strawhat pirates please? And you're always welcome to add nsfw and please Keep up the nice writing and stay hydrated 😊

Sure! I’ll do my best and since you told me to stay hydrated, I’m gonna take a big gulp of water right now! This one is probably going to be quite short though as I’ve never been quite good at writing canon

Sincerest of apologies and I certainly do hope that you still enjoy it regardless! Now then…

Let’s get into it!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

A Yandere Fighting his Urges, Masturbation, Delusions, Celestial Dragon Mention, Sexual Fantasies, Anger, Kidnapping

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

So honestly I can imagine that you might have potentially encountered Sabo during the time skip like let’s say that you wound up encountering him for a little while during those two years

Maybe he saved you like you were in trouble with the Marines due to your wanted poster and Sabo noticing that you were running for your life decided to pull you into his hiding place out of sight as he was running too

Of course you were probably freaking out a little when he suddenly grabbed you but he kept you quiet and held you with your back against his chest until the coast was clear which is when he finally let go

Once you realized that you had been saved and had not in fact wound up in a worse scenario, that’s when you took a lot of deep breaths to calm yourself before you thanked him

It was after that is when he said that the two of you should stick together until you can get off this island as it was gonna be a while with how the Marines had locked the place down and despite everything. You knew trying to leave was a bad idea right now

During the time that the two of you spent waiting, you found out a lot about each other. He was a revolutionary that had been sent to this island on a mission, you were a pirate who had been separated from your crew

Honestly the two of you became quite close and eventually when the Marines calmed down thinking you both must be long gone. That’s when the two of you tried to leave only for Sabo to offer you to join the revolutionary army

You would make for a pretty good member after all and Sabo even offered to personally teach you everything that you needed to know

He was almost a little too insistent about it even when you said “I couldn’t just abandon my crew”. After a while though, you put your foot down and told him that you were going to find your crew and get back to them as nice as his offer was

Part of Sabo honestly felt the urge to just grab you and forcefully take you with him as how could a life on the seas possibly be better than fighting for what was truly right?

But nonetheless he held himself back for now and the two of you went your separate ways…

However as soon as he was away from your side and returning back to the others, he found that he simply couldn’t stop thinking about you as there was always a little bit of his mind that was thinking about you

It started off as him simply imagining what would have happened if you said yes and what you’re doing now then it progressed into forgetting that you weren’t here with him and occasionally slipping up like “I don’t know… What do you think, Y/N?”

Weirded the shit out of whoever he was talking to but regardless, he soon starts to imagine a complete life for the two of you in the world that the revolutionary army would bring about

He imagined living with you and letting you know just how much he loved you just about every single day, he wouldn’t have to worry about coming home and finding you missing or worse because some Celestial Dragon thought you were cute

There would be no need to fear that at all and even if there were still some fears in the world, he could protect you… He could protect you and any children that the two of you might have together

And as he thought about these scenarios in his head, he began to think to himself as the two of you were so close back on that island together… You knew so much about each other and not only that but some of your actions as well

You allowed him to sleep on the bed of the little inn room that you both managed to get instead of sleeping on the floor, you hugged him just a bit longer than you should have that one time, you even shared quite a few personal details with him that you probably haven’t told anyone else

Could it be that you felt the same way about him? Yeah, yeah! Of course you did, there’s absolutely no other explanation in his mind!

He just has to find you now and take you back with him when the time is right, he’ll tell you about how he feels the exact same way that you do and you’ll leap into his arms like it’s some kind of fairy tale! You’ll tell him that you’re so happy he realized and kiss him

These fantasies are truly some of the best things that he could ever think of and in all honesty, he even starts to dream about you sitting in his lap and riding him as you cry out that you’re so happy that you get to do this finally as you’ve wanted to do this since you’ve met him

Of course he usually has to take care of himself after these dreams which usually results in him moaning out your name as he rubs his cock to the visual of you bouncing on him or taking him into your mouth like a good girl

God, he needs to find you… He can’t wait for this any longer…

So Dressrosa winds up happening and of course you’re part of Luffy’s crew so as much as he would like to confess his feelings to you and steal you away, he’s sure that Luffy would never allow it plus he just can’t find the right moment to tell you how he feels

And due to this, he becomes more and more frustrated as sure the city is in absolute chaos and is about to be destroyed but he would just like at least ten seconds where shit isn’t going to hell so he can at least kiss you or say “I love you!” or something!

Even when the chaos is over, he still can’t find the correct moment and this man is very close to just coming up behind you and stealing you away

But as he’s coming up behind you planning to grab you from behind when it seems like you’re all alone, he’s just about to touch you when you suddenly turn around and say that you’ve been looking for him with a smile on your face

He thinks that you’re about to confess first and his heart is pounding in his chest as he’s so excited only for you to thank him so much for everything that he’s done before entering a conversation with him

You eventually let it slip that you have a bit of a crush on your captain and you can practically hear the cracking noise coming from Sabo before someone calls you away and you say that it was nice to see him again before leaving

Sabo is probably standing there just frozen and watching you go

So many things in his head are telling him to go after you to grab you and kiss you senseless so you realize that he’s the one for you but his Yandere Tendencies aren’t fully brought to the surface as he shakes his head and tries to fight the urge to do so as he leaves

He can’t bring himself to steal what’s potentially going to be his younger brothers girl someday… At least not yet…

Besides he’s absolutely sure that Luffy can keep you safe! Maybe even better than he can… Yeah! You’re in the safest hands with his younger brother! Sabo can definitely trust him to keep you safe and treat you EXACTLY how you deserve to be treated

And he couldn’t possibly bring himself to steal you away and protect you from all the dangers in the world that might try to hurt you! You’re part of Luffy’s crew after all and he doesn’t even mind if he someday gets an invite to the wedding that the two of you might have

If you heard a pop then that was Sabo’s stress ball… He’s on his fifth one today…

Regardless despite all of his wants, he gets back to his work as a revolutionary and tries to just ignore his feelings

That is until a certain country known as Lulusia gets wiped from existence and suddenly that last shred of sanity that Sabo had is completely gone

There is absolutely no way in hell that Luffy can keep you safe after what he just witnessed… He knew that the nagging feeling in the back of his head was right!

Luffy has too many crew members to watch out for after all and Sabo is certain that there could come a time when you’ll get hurt in some horrible awful way

And although Sabo does love his brother and would trust him with his life… He just wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he continued to let you stay there only for you to get hurt

Sabo will keep you safe, he’ll keep you safe and secure until the day finally comes when the revolutionary army has won

And when that day comes if the world is still just a bit too dangerous for his liking, he’ll continue to keep you safe even if it means locking you away inside of the home that he’ll share with you someday

He knows what’s best for you after all

#minors dni #the rain talks back #yandere #yandere one piece #reader insert #read the trigger warnings #yandere male #Yandere Sabo

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charcubed · 7 months

Text

Look, I personally lose nothing if Lokius doesn’t become explicit canon. And if that were to become the case, I’d also have no regrets for saying for years that that would happen in the show by the end ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I’ve said it before, but by now it would be Disney/Marvel’s loss, NOT mine. Whoever wasted or limited the potential would be the idiot, not me.

I’m simply never gonna feel crazy for noticing what’s happening in a story or silly for daring to hope it’ll be brought to fully satisfying narrative completion. That's just a me thing. Maybe this is because at heart I’m stubborn! But I’d like to think I’m not unreasonable. I can’t control whether writing stays consistent or censorship is overcome... But I just do my best to construct solid arguments, and as long as those arguments remain solid, I stand by them :)

I know not everyone would say the same, or they consider this to be "hope" or "optimism," but I see it as logic based in noticing what the text of a show/story is doing. And personally I also consider blatantly evident subtext to be "canon enough," so if we get my personal minimum, my happiness may still outweigh any potential disappointment for me.

However. Here's what I've come here to say today, in reaction to things I've seen floating around in the fandom:

While I do understand on some level why people worry that Lokius won’t be more explicitly canonically romantic because it could be censored by Disney.... At this point, I don’t understand how people can think Loki/Sylvie will still happen.

As of right now, there’s no way to argue for that in my opinion. (I'd like to see someone try.)

The show has set up a fun but very simple situation from basically the start:

They made romantic love a point of relevance in the show’s story. More specifically, they pointed out Loki's desire for a "real" romantic love, and had him learn the lesson that he doesn't deserve to be alone. They didn't HAVE to do all of those things and tie them together. They CHOSE to make romantic love relevant – and they have actively continued to choose to do that, to the point of including a mirrored dark love triangle in s2 ep3. That narrative thread simply has to be fulfilled.

So if they deliberately established that Loki wants and needs a “real” love, and his relationship with Sylvie was referred to as "fiction" so she cannot be a real love for him.... Who does it have to be?

Obviously it has to be Mobius. And of course, the whole show points to Lokius also, for countless more reasons than just this simple breakdown. But pointing this element out is the simplest argument one can make.

So either...

1. They take Lokius to full narrative completion with explicit canon, as they should and as I expect them to,

2. Loki's desire for a real love is left unfulfilled, open-ended, and/or made clear through subtext that it's Mobius.

Those are the options, if you ask me!

This is aside from how Lokius’ love story is now even at the core of the show’s themes and plot, which is an insanely strong vote in favor for their future canonicity.

But for the purposes of this post, I’m talking about whether we'll get explicit romance specifically, like a love confession or a kiss – and I do actually genuinely think we'll get both of those things. I'm not trying to force you to agree with me, but just to be clear, that's where I'm at with it and have been since 2021 lol.

So in regards to worrying about Loki/Sylvie...

They were never really a romance (yes, even in season 1) and they sure as hell aren't now. I can’t imagine they'll become one even IF Lokius is left subtextual.

So what actually remains to be seen is if the writers got to go all the way with Lokius, or if that central queer love story was censored on some level in the end.

My hot take is no one should be ~worrying~ about Sylki at this stage of the game. Free yourselves, people.

If the story starts abruptly going in a Sylki direction, even with only 3 episodes left, I will certainly be the first to say so lol. But I simply sincerely, truly doubt that'll happen.

(Hot take in the footer: this is not the post to get into this at length, but in case this comes up… In this house we do not use the word "queerbaiting." It is a useless, nearly-meaningless, insufferable term that devalues the legitimacy of subtext and queercoding more often than not; it's rooted in the idea that media must hit arbitrary and inconsistent checklists often set with cishet approval in mind; and it perpetuates a focus on the false and harmful myth that many creators are "cowards" instead of leaving room for nuance and the fact that industry censorship still exists.)

#in theory: either we win or we REALLY fucking win.#felt worth posting this little disclaimer since some people are starting to actually see my meta over here?? which is new. hi #how many times can I remix and expand upon my old words from twitter to make a larger tumblr post? the limit does not exist #loki meta #lokius meta #loki #loki show #loki series #chars loki posts #lokius #meant for this post to be shorter. F #I'm not even done crossposting all my meta from last night yet. sorry to all my tumblr followers

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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months

Text

Sweater Shopping

kai parker x bonnie bennett

summary: bonnie needs to buy a new sweater for the holiday season. kai, much to her annoyance, invites himself along.

tags: thanksgiving, autumn, not canon compliant, enemies to friends

word count: 2k

a/n: working on several different things, but in the midst of those, decided i needed a cheesy bonkai fluff-ish piece, so here's one

When Bonnie hears the passenger door shut after closing her own, she sighs. She does, however, thank the higher power above for getting her to the mall safely, considering her travel buddy has been known to attack people from the backseat of their cars.

The boy in question smiles at her as he approaches. He puts his phone in his pocket and follows her across the road.

Bonnie glances at him from the corner of her eye. “When I said I forgive you, I did not mean that we would be friends. And I certainly did not mean you could follow me around everywhere.”

Kai kicks a pebble across the pavement, but doesn’t answer.

“Why did you even come with me? The mall is the last place I’d ever think you’d want to be.”

“I don’t see it as a place you’d be, either.”

“I need a new top for the holidays. My mom wants me to come over for Thanksgiving, and all my sweaters are looking pretty rough.”

“Ah.”

Bonnie lets her feet carry her to her old favorite store. She hasn’t visited in ages, but she and Elena and Caroline used to go all the time together.

“So where’s your mom live? What’s she do?”

The girl turns to give him a sharp look. “Why do you care?”

“Damn, just curious, okay? You always talk about your Grams. I don’t know anything about your mom.”

“You don’t know anything about me, either.”

Kai clicks his tongue. “I know more than you think.”

“Ugh.” She turns back to watch where she’s going.

“Okay, look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.”

“Then stop talking.”

He opens his mouth again, but then promptly shuts it.

Satisfied, Bonnie turns the corner into the store. “If you’re gonna be here, stay close. Don’t need you wandering off and killing someone,” she mutters.

Kai nods, mouth still sealed.

For the next ten minutes as she browses, he lurks a good five feet away at all times. With time, though, he starts to pick up on what kind of sweater she’s looking for, and to her indignation, offers some options.

“Bon.”

“What?”

He lifts up a pastel blue one.

“No.”

“This?” A green with a frilly collar.

“No.”

“This?” Now, it’s a maroon with a lower neckline.

She sighs, ready to snap, but then kind of likes that option. “Maybe.”

Kai, smiling, loops it around his arm to keep for her.

After she’s collected five or six options, she searches for the dressing room. Kai follows her into the section, but when her hand reaches for the knob into the actual room, she turns to him.

“Stay.” Like a troublemaking dog.

To her surprise, he does.

Kai waits patiently, tapping his boot heel on the wooden floor, while she changes. His eyes are trained on the door, curious, but not daring to ask any questions.

Bonnie, meanwhile, stares at herself in the mirror. She isn’t sure how she likes the pink-ish, argyle fit, and crinkles her nose with uncertainty. She sighs, then snaps a picture to send to Caroline. For three minutes, she waits for a reply. After nothing, she caves.

“Hey,” she opens the door slightly and catches Kai’s attention.

His gaze is on her immediately. “Hi.”

“I need you to tell me how this looks. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Okay.” His heart races with excitement.

Bonnie opens the door wider to show him the whole top. Kai tries not to stare, and more importantly, tries to form an appropriate reaction that doesn’t include stuttering.

The sweater is cute, and matches the rest of her outfit well, but doesn’t seem like her style.

“I like the color, I’m just not digging it,” Bonnie explains.

Kai then nods. “It doesn’t seem like you.”

“Okay. Putting it in the ‘no’ pile.”

She shuts the door.

Two minutes later, she opens the door again. “Opinion?”

It’s a plain forest green, although with tiny green sparkles throughout it. Again, she looks beautiful, but it’s still not a match.

“I don’t like it,” she states.

“I don’t dislike it, but I think you could find something better.”

She gives a short nod. “‘No’ pile.”

By the third time, Kai’s expecting her. The first two times, he was caught off guard, but now he waits eagerly to see the next option.

“Red,” she announces. It’s more of a maroon, but Kai doesn’t correct her. “Might look good with some gold jewelry.”

He smiles in agreement. “I like it. Gold would match well.”

“It’s a little big in the shoulders.”

“I didn’t notice until you pointed it out. But it gives it kind of a comfy look.”

Bonnie seems to like that answer. She smiles a little before poking her head back into the room.

In a minute’s time, she presents another. “This one’s cool.”

Kai agrees immediately. This option has a criss-cross design across the top, exposing her chest just a little. Half of it is gray, but it’s an ombre into black at the bottom.

“Here’s the back.” She turns so he can see the ombre from the other side.

His breath hitches in his throat at how well fits her perfect body. The whole top is slightly cropped, too, showing off her tight jeans. “Um,” he stutters. He tears his eyes away as she turns back to face him. If he hadn’t known better, she did that on purpose.

“Opinion?”

“Maybe not to wear at your mom’s. But you should get it anyway because it looks really good on you.”

Bonnie looks in the mirror at her figure. “I see what you mean. Maybe I’ll just get it for fun.”

“You should.”

A small smirk tugs on the edge of her lips. She definitely did that on purpose.

“Okay. Two more choices.”

Kai’s foot taps harder against the wood as his mind clings to the image of her. She laughs to herself, having no idea why she decided to tease the boy, but is certainly having fun doing it.

“Alright, your pick.”

It’s one of the ones he lifted up for her. Another maroon option, though with a v-neck that’s slightly off the shoulders. It fits well, hugging her body, but not too much. There’s no pattern or design, but she kind of likes it that way.

“I think I already have a pair of earrings that would go with it.”

Kai smiles. “It looks nice on you.”

“It’s very soft, too.”

Unexpectedly, she steps out of the room for him to touch. He leans forward to feel the cashmere material. The softness of it makes him relax, visibly, as he stops tapping his foot.

“Comfortable.”

“Very. Alright, I have one more.”

Kai pulls his hand away, but can still feel the threads lingering on his skin. He waits patiently for the last one.

It’s plain black, again with the argyle design, but without any frill. Bonnie likes it, but it doesn’t stand out in the way the others did.

“Opinion?”

Funnily enough, Kai’s thoughts on it match her own. “Looks good, but I like the other ones better. Color suits you.”

That comment makes her smile. “Okay. So which of the maroons, then? The slightly baggier one, or the slight v-neck one?” Kai ponders her question for a moment. Meanwhile, she continues, “I like both, but with the first maroon, I’d have to buy gold jewelry. But with the second one, my bra strap shows a little.”

“So what?” Kai says without thinking. “Girls wear bras.”

Bonnie actually laughs. “Yeah, but I’m seeing my mom. Whom I don’t know all that well when it comes to her opinions of clothes.”

Kai bites his lip. “You look gorgeous in both of them.”

She searches his face, taken off guard by the comment, but finds complete sincerity. “Thank you.”

He only nods. “Which is more comfortable?”

“I like them both. Though that cashmere is tempting. And the price isn’t outrageous.”

“I felt like you’d like it because you seem to always wear lower necklines or v-necks.”

She thinks about that. “I do, yeah. I don’t like the feeling of clothes being tight around my neck.” She pauses. “Alright. I’m going with the second one. Plus I already have jewelry for it.”

“Are you still getting the ombre one for fun?”

Bonnie stops abruptly at his question. “How do you know what ombre is?!”

“I have a sister! I know these things.”

“Hm. Not a lot of boys would know terms like that.”

“Jo and I used to be close,” he reveals, “I remember some of the hairstyles and colors she used to pull off.”

The thought makes the girl laugh. She likes this more human side of Kai. A far cry from the sociopathic, alien-like creature she knew in the prison world. Maybe all it took to see it was for Bonnie to give him a chance.

“Alright, then.” She smiles. “And yes, I’m getting both.”

The next time she hears her passenger door shut, she finds herself glad that the little troublemaker came along. She got to see a different side of him, and actually enjoyed his company. He came in handy, too, with his opinions on the sweaters. Caroline hadn’t answered until they were in the check-out line.

“Mhhhmmm, pink’s kinda more my color,” her text said, “maybe there’s a maroon?”

Bonnie showed Kai the text with a smile.

She replied to the girl, “got a maroon one, thanks!”

What she neglected to say was that Kai picked it out for her. She kept that little tidbit to herself, as well as the fact that she had fun with him. To Bonnie’s knowledge, though, Caroline doesn’t even know the little weasel slipped into her car in the first place.

“So…” the weasel in question starts, “what day are you going to your mom’s?”

“Two days before the actual day of Thanksgiving. She knows I have Friendsgiving here on the actual day, and she knows my best friends are closer to me than she is.”

“Ah.”

“So I’m driving down that day, but then staying the night, then driving back in the morning-ish. She lives in North Carolina,” Bonnie finally reveals.

“Oh. Are you, uh, going by yourself? Like, Elena coming with you, or something? That’s quite a drive.”

“It is, but no.”

“Damon?”

“Hell no. She hates him. He’s the one who turned her.”

“Oh,” Kai repeats, then, quieter, “shit.”

“Yeah. So just me.”

“Can I go with you?”

“What?!”

“I don’t know, just asking. Keep you company.”

“I’m not sure, Kai…” Yes, she had fun today, but to spend a four hour drive with him? And to introduce him to her mom? She’s not sure about that.

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, “I get it.”

“I just…” She makes the mistake of looking over at him. His eyes look slightly sad, the skin underneath tinted with bags. His hands are clasped in his lap, unusually still. “Tell you what… we still have a good week and a half until then. If you are good, and promise to be on your best behavior around my mom, maybe I’ll let you come with me.”

“Wait, really?”

“Since you picked out such a nice sweater for me to wear,” she jokes.

“I promise I’ll be good. I won’t even bug Damon for fun.”

“You better not.”

Kai’s quiet, though internally very excited. Then, after a moment, he asks, “does this make us friends?”

Bonnie sighs. “Guess it sets us on the path to friendship. If you can promise to be good,” she reiterates one more time.

The boy smiles one more time. “Yes!” He mutters, lowkey fist pumping the air.

Bonnie watches him, hoping she made the right decision. Truthfully, he has been a lot better to her and her friends lately. Maybe he’s grateful for the accidental second chance he got when they realized they needed his magic to return from 1903. Or, maybe, it’s Bonnie seeing him in a different way now that he’s seemed to settle down. Either way, it would be easier to be friends, rather than enemies, with Kai, and maybe, she’ll learn she wants him that way, too.

#kai parker x bonnie bennett #bonkai #bonkai fics #tvd fanfiction #tvd fics #enemies to friends

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theenbynightingale · 11 months

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CLONE HIGH (2023) EP. 8 SPOILERS

Okay, I know I’m opening up myself to a bunch of arguing but like... We need to have a talk. I should preface this by saying I’m not a die hard fan of Clone High. I only caved into watching the original series a few days before the reboot dropped despite hearing about it for years. I think they’re both good but I have my problems with both.

But I wanna talk about Topher Bus, a Christopher Columbus clone in a Gen Z world. He’s kind of taken over the role of Ghandi as Abe’s best friend in the revival, since the creators don’t want to bring him back unless they know they’re gonna be able to make more seasons. He hasn’t had a lot of screen time or development because the abundance of characters in this version. However, him becoming somewhat close with Abe has resulted in some fans shipping them.

So imagine their surprise when Topher tries to blackmail (or white leverage) Abe at the end of the final episode because he is attracted to Joan as well. I’ve seen so many people actually get angry about this. Many found themselves disappointed that Topher wasn’t straight or that he’d do something so terrible to Abe.

To which I say... Why would you expect anything else from this guy?

Topher’s whole thing was that he was an asshole who tried way too hard to convince people he’s progressive or an ally or “woke”, a term he unironically uses. He goes on and on about how he’s looking out for poc and women because he’s just trying to survive in a world that has flat out rejected his clone father.

“But he has a ‘Everyone is Welcome Here’ rainbow flag in his room!” Yeah, he does. He also has a co-exist poster, too. Good for him. Except there’s also a poster that says “Not a paid activist”. It’s a front! That’s the point!

“But he keeps trying to drill it into everyone’s heads that he’s straight, like a closeted person!” Yes, he does. But it’s not just closeted people who do that. I went to a Catholic school and I also live in the real world. I’ve seen dudes be afraid to drink tea or hug because it might make them look “gay” or “feminine” or whatever bullshit.

“The way he said he liked Joan and white women in general was so exaggerated that he must be forcing himself to say it!” This is Clone High! Everything in this show is so exaggerated. From the very beginning, it’s been a parody of teen satires. It was created by the duo that would go on to make Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, 21 Jump Street and The LEGO Movie. This is their style.

“The episode would have been better if he blackmailed Abe into not confessing to Joan because he had a crush on Abe.” So you’re saying you would have liked the episode more if Topher had gone “Abe, the reason I almost got you molested by a teacher was because I’m in love with you”? I need you to realize how fucked that is.

Topher is a weasly little shit who tries to convince everyone how progressive he is when he’s actually a total asshole. That was the point. Y’all thinking he was in love with Abe or that he had Abe’s best intentions at heart just means that it worked. You took the bait. I’m not saying shipping Tophabe would be immoral (okay maybe after the whole statutory rape thing but that’s just for right now). There’s a solid chance that their friendship could be salvaged after this. I certainly never thought I’d ship Cleo with anyone but know she and Frida are my OTP. But you gotta stop pretending that this character is someone he isn’t.

I might delete this because I’m just trying to get my feelings out. I’m not calling anyone stupid or whiny just because they got upset by the new episodes. (Shoutout to my boy, @warcrimetime. Sorry they took JoanFK from you so soon). This is just another case of me getting annoyed by people calling queerbait just because a ship didn’t become canon and me getting everything out of my system. (But also, if Joan does see Topher’s blackmail and her reaction is anger at Abe and not “HOLY SHIT YOU WERE MOLESTED?!” then that would actually be legit bad writing).

TL;DR:

Although, maybe I’m just not upset because I got Kahlopatra and you guys lost your OTP and I just don’t understand, I dunno.

#clone high #abe clone high #topher bus #joan clone high #jfk clone high #cleo clone high #joanfk

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we-will-be-reun1ted · 7 months

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─── ⋆⋅Body⋅⋆ ───

Okay so first straight off the bat, the twins are not human. That’s canon and that’s been established. So in my eyes, that means they aren’t going to have the same kind of bodies.

I’m not going to go into their appearances in this post as that’s a completely different thing. I may draw them but I’m not getting my hopes up.

Anywho bodies! So. The twins have very specific functions to do with their bodies to make it easier for them to travel around space from universe to universe. Starting of with this - they do not have stomachs.

I imagine that since they are travelling around space a lot when they aren’t in a world, they don’t really have much to eat up there. So the food that they do eat when they are in a world actually gets absorbed into their bodies and converted into energy rather than just being digested. This means that they don’t need the bathroom, don’t gain or lose weight or anything like that.

When travelling space they can’t really take food since on average the food will probably disintegrate into a dust and undergo chemical changes in the vacuum. So, to be able to have the energy to travel for a long time, they have to eat a lot of food before leaving. Like tons. The amount that would make even Paimon nervous.

The both feel pretty sick afterwards but it works!

Another thing kinda cool about their bodies is that the twins are able to change certain aspects about their body.

An example of this is that they could technically change their physical genders if they really want to.

I imagine both of them are comfortable in their genders (Lumine a girl, Aether a guy) but they weren’t really born as such. These two were created from an explosion and a lot of things happening at the same time which just so correlated to them being made. They were both kind of one being that split into two. Basically, shooting stars in the vessel as humans.

Neither were raised on a gender or had any concept of that until they started travelling to other worlds, which is when they technically ‘chose’ what to be.

This can be physically changed. It would take a lot of their energy but if they had the will and want, they could do it.

This doesn’t really happen though as it takes way too much of their energy and they are both happy as they are.

This is kind of relating to the last one about being able to change things about their body

This is a bit of an odd one so bare with me. Kinda inappropriate but in the biology class inappropriate way.

Right, they have stuff like sperm, egg, normal stuff like that though like ✨yassified✨cause these mfs ain’t human. Maybe Aethers cum is glittery or something I don’t fucking know.

Whatever so the cool thing about them is they are able to literally turn their fertility on and off like a switch. Neither want kids. They are planning on travelling forever why would either want to settle down and start a family with someone they meet in one of the worlds. I’m gonna use Lumine as an example of this in the least graphic terms possible.

So as I’ve said, Lumines a sexual being. Nothing wrong with that. When she has sex, she doesn’t have to use any form of protection as she can just turn her fertility off pretty much. If she ever wanted a child she could pretty much just turn her eggs or whatever back on and then bam. It does take a few days for her body to adjust so she would have to do it a few days prior. This is the same for Aether.

This one’s just weird to be honest. I say as if the last three haven’t been just as weird.

The two are able to grown back their limbs like lizards can crow back their tails.

I don’t say that lightly. They can’t just go “oh haha I’m gonna cut off my arm and throw it at someone for a funny prank XD” and then immediately grow it back. No it’s an extremely long and painful process. Firstly, losing the limb would be just as painful as it would be for the normal person. Maybe slightly less as they both have incredibly high pain tolerances, but certainly not ideal. To make matters worse, the growing part would be even more painful and cost them a LOT of energy.

It would take a long ass time. It’s not just gonna grow back overnight. And even after it’s back they are going to struggle to move it or do anything with it for a while afterwards so it will just be limp next to them for a while. They will basically have to relearn movements in that limb.

Say for example, Aethers right leg is cut off, poor guy. Once it grows back, if he had any scars or tattoos or anything on it previously it would no longer be there. It will be completely plain. A normal leg.

A rule for this is the brain must still be fully functioning with the rest of the body for this to work. You can’t just cut off one of their heads and expect the body to start growing again. If you cut off the head, they die. Simple.

#genshin #genshin impact #aether genshin impact #lumine genshin impact #lumine #lumine headcanons #aether #aether headcanons #lumine and aether #aether and lumine #genshin traveler #genshin twins #genshin headcanons #starcrossed headcanons

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blackch-rry · 8 months

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The Summer of ‘89 (IT au) (Teaser)

Pairing: Sunghoon x reader, Heeseung x reader, Enhypen x reader

Synopsis: Derry, Maine, and all its residents thought the disappearance of a high school student was the first and last tragedy to occur in a long time, but once summer started in 1989 a terrifying nightmare had just begun. You had just moved to the small town a year prior; no friends and certainly no love life, but just after graduating high school you find yourself suddenly having a lot in common with a group of seven boys.

Warnings/Genre: Inspired by Stephen King’s IT, (the movies mostly), not really canon idk, horror, gore, angst, romance, more to come each update.

A/N: hi! I love horror and IT, so I thought it was time to finally write something about it. If you don’t like horror, my attempt at least, gore, and all that stuff, then this is not for you. I’m hoping the end of this series or near the end will come out near Halloween because that’s just perfect. So please be patient with updates! Enjoy this teaser :)

***

Fall 1988

Three teenage girls rode aimlessly down the street in their quaint town of Derry. Senior Year had started for all of them and as a last-ditch effort to cling onto summer, the group of friends hopped onto their bikes. One last late-night ride before the crisp autumn air took over.

After an hour of aimless riding and chatting, the three had bright smiles as the wind wrapped around their hair as they sped up a slope in the road, that eventually died down when the trio came to a slow glide side by side.

One of the girls, Chaewon, quickly smoothed down the back of her hair. She had a mischievous thought and voiced, “Hey, Kazuha…”

Once she got her friend’s attention she continued, “Are you finally gonna find the courage this year?”

The last girl, Yunjin, laughed loudly, immediately knowing what her friend was getting at, but poor Kazuha was lost.

“Huh? Courage to do what?”

“Oh come on,” Yunjin started, “It’s our last year of high school! You’ve had that crush on Jay since freshman year! You need to do something about it before we graduate.”

Kazuha let out a shriek of embarrassment, “No way! I can’t do that!”

Chaewon quickened her pedaling so she could get ahead and come back around to circle her best friends.

She said, “And why not? He hasn’t dated anyone for two years and when he was it broke you, remember that? The least you could do is confess and then he can take you to prom! Your dream!”

“The least? I can’t even ask my teachers to go to the bathroom during class. I can’t just go up to him and tell him I like him!”

The two giggled at their friend’s worrying. Chaewon stopped circling and joined the line, “Ok fine, you don’t have to freak him out by straight out confessing, but I think you really should talk to him at least. I just hate seeing you so down in the dumps, staring at him all day.”

“I don’t stare…that much.”

“Sure,” Yunjin said with a smile, “Hey, my house is right around the corner. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

The girls said their goodbyes as Yunjin took off. Kazuha knew Chaewon was about to head off since her house was close by as well, but before she did, she said, “Zuha, I’m serious. I know you’re scared about talking to a guy you like first, but we just want to see you happy. You know that right?”

“Of course, I do… and yeah I guess you guys are some-what right. I should just go up to him after algebra and ask him out. Plain and simple…and it would ruin me again if he took another girl to prom.”

Chaewon smiled, “There you go! Plain and simple. And if he doesn’t say yes, which he won’t do, it’ll be alright. You have us to cry on and eat ice cream with.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Chaewon laughed before her house came into view, “Alright! See you later!”

Kazuha let out a small goodbye before it was just her, alone, riding down the dimly lit street. Two minutes passed before she made a turn that would lead her home. One more block of easy riding and late-night breezes sending chills down her body, until something on the road up ahead caught her stare.

She’s not really the type to stop for things out of her way, but something about it poked at her curiosity. Coming to a slow stop, she saw what it was in its entirety.

A gasp left her lips. On the side of the cracked pavement laid a bloody cat. She hopped off her bike and let it fall to the ground. Kneeling so she could get a better look, a wave of disgust hit. The closer she got she could see the terrible state the cat was in. It was on its side; dark crimson blood stained the fur surrounding its stomach…where a whole chunk was missing.

Kazuha didn’t have a clue as to what could do this. For a second, she thought another animal attacked it, but the edges around the wound couldn’t have been bite marks from an animal, not around here. And the part bitten off was way too big.

She had to look away when more blood and parts of the remaining organs spewed out. With a hand covering her mouth, she took a deep inhale to rest her stomach. A second later, she turned back towards the poor cat, but something beyond her by the side of a house made her pause.

The backyard of the house she kneeled before was not well lit, but she saw more red.

A…balloon?

With a surge of fear and uncertainty, she got up from the ground. The dying cat was far from her mind when she saw it clearer. A single red balloon stayed floating next to the house. Her steps backward were slow and quiet. How could this be possible? Shouldn’t it be floating into the sky?

As if the object could hear her thoughts, the red balloon started ascending. Her eyes stayed glued to it, watching and watching until the bright color was consumed with the blackness of the night sky. She stayed staring at the distant sky as she continued to back away until the heel of her shoe hit her bike. The sound and abruptness of the impact brought her back out of her daze. She quickly snapped her head back to the ground and the fear she had grew. The cat was gone.

She couldn’t believe it. Any of this. Was she going insane? First the mangled cat and now a floating balloon? Maybe she was hallucinating. Yes, that was it she concluded. She must be sleep deprived because everything was becoming nonsense.

With a sigh, she touched her forehead trying to calm her racing thoughts and nerves. A gust of wind rushed by her, and she startled. God, it must be so late by now. My parents will be so mad…

Kazuha stared at the empty spot on the pavement, wondering again what that was, before turning around to grab her bike.

A second more and she would have been on her bike.

A minute more and she would be rounding up on her house. Home.

But the second she turned around her head was being swallowed whole.

***

Spring 1989.

“That time of the month, yeah?”

Looking bored, you give a half assed smile, “You always know what to say to a girl don’t you, Jeno?”

He leaned over the counter between you, hands placed on the edge, “Well, you can come back to mine and I’ll say a lot nicer-”

“Just ring up my damn tampons.”

His charming façade wiped away, he stood back upright and lazily scanned the box.

“A dollar fifty.”

You gave him the money, took the bag, and said, “That wasn’t so hard. I mean you’re a cashier at a shitty drug store. I think you might need some more training on how to click a few buttons.”

You left before you could hear the rest of his angry rambling.

With the ringing of the store’s bell, you’re outside. The sudden uproar of summer was evident and it wasn’t even June yet. The sudden heat had you craving a cigarette. You walked until the nearest alley to reach into the back pocket of your jean shorts. You pulled out a cigarette from its box and placed it in between your lips before reaching back around for your trusty lighter. Once lighting and taking a deep inhale, you watched the smoke billow out in front of you. When it cleared you were met with a face.

Taped to the brick wall before you is a poster of that girl who went missing at the beginning of the school year.

Kazuha.

Staring at her black and white photo and her parent’s information made you slightly uncomfortable. No, you were never friends with her personally, but she always smiled at you in the halls.

You moved to Derry at the end of Junior year and making friends was never your forte, but it never hurt to see a smile directed at you, even if a stranger.

You remember that day at school like a haunting nightmare. The somber voice of the principal over the speakers announcing her disappearance. You knew who was in Kazuha’s close group of friends and the chilling cry from Huh Yunjin sitting two rows in front of you still gives you goosebumps whenever you replay that moment. She had to be escorted out of the room by the teacher.

Suddenly, smoking your cigarette in front of her missing poster feels disrespectful. You don’t put it out, instead you make your way back to the busy sidewalk. As you go about, you ponder over it all.

Her weird absence from everything, the sight of her parents sometimes idling outside the high school wishing she’d magically burst out the doors after a long day at school, the way the halls got quieter the first two months after, and the rumors.

The police never brought up too many details about her case on the news. It’s a fact that the police found her abandoned bike but nothing else, yet somehow gossip started to spread amongst your classmates. Some said they found her bloody shoe. Others said she was abducted by aliens. (That one you find incredibly hard to believe).

No one said it out loud, but everyone has a feeling she’s dead. It’s been about seven months since then and she hasn’t been found. Never a good sign. The cloudy gloom her disappearance brought upon the town has finally subdued with the beginning of summer.

Everyone has moved on besides her family and close friends, but seeing her face around every turn and corner makes it hard for you to forget. The whole thing really.

You’re quickly brought out of your thoughts when you see a group of seven boys zoom past you on their bikes. While getting the last you can out of your fix, you keep your gaze on their backs. One of them stands on the pedals and shouts, “Fuck you high school! We’re free at last!”

You hear the rest of them holler in agreement, but all it does is give you a headache.

You forgot graduation is tomorrow.

You stomp the cigarette out in annoyance.

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 1 year

Text

Chapter 3: Negotiation

Warnings: Mentions of medical equipment (reader is a medic), feelings of panic, uncertainty, canon fighting.

Word Count: 5k+

Masterlist | AO3

The Trandoshan was shorter than what you were used to, but her eyes were just as cold and hard as the rest; only giving that sharp reptilian gaze, incapable of anything else.

“So what are you proposing?” Hunter broke the silence in the back office.

“She as good as what Goggles was saying?” Hunter glanced you out the corner of his eye, shifting to lean on the other leg as he decided what to say.

“I’m no expert…” he started.

“Look Bandana, it isn’t me she’s gonna be working on. It’s you boys and if she kills you it isn’t my problem.” The Trandoshan settled back in her seat. “Lucky for you, I bought a unit just up the street, large enough to live in and have a small medcentre attached.” Hunter’s hand came up to catch whatever she threw at him. “Have a look, tell me what you need and I’ll see what I can get, don’t take all day.” Hunter jerked his head towards the door and you backed away, slowly extracting your nails from the palm of your hand.

You flinched at the noise of the bar, staying close to Hunter’s back and not looking around at anything. The street was no better, the loud noise of speeders, people shouting and it was completely different to the quiet of the fields around the slavers complex.

“This is it.” He slotted the card into the activation panel and the door opened halfway only to grind to a halt. Hunter wedged himself in the gap, straining as he pushed to make the mechanism complete its motion. “Tech can sort that,” he told you. The lights blinkered on, flooding a large empty space. It was littered with some rubbish, the kitchen area needed to be sorted and it required some work if it was to work as a medbay…but you could see it. “What do you think?” Walking past the kitchen you checked out the private bedroom and refresher, ending up back in the larger living area where he was standing leaning casually against the wall.

You could feel his eyes on you, waiting for a response that you weren’t sure how to express. You expected him to moan, voicing his annoyance at how mute you were but he just coolly watched you from beneath that odd looking helmet.

Turning your back to him you faced the big empty space. “I’m sorry.” You heard him shift, sensing him come up behind you but not too close. There was a soft hiss and you knew he had taken it off. c

“Why?”

“I am no good at any of this. A few days ago I was a slave, my life was in someone else’s hands, charged with keeping a stranger alive and suddenly I’m here on the verge of…” You wanted to say freedom, but in the service of someone else it didn’t feel like that right now. Hunter slowly moved until he was in your eye line, understanding etched over that tattooed face.

“I get it,” he said gently. “You don’t have to stay here. Cid will use you to her full advantage, she certainly does with us.” You snorted softly through your nose, you had no doubt the Trandoshan was going to keep you busy, but she was also offering you something that was extraordinary.

“Why do you keep coming back?” Hunter shrugged in response.

“We owe her.”

You were getting under her scaly skin and it gave you a thrill. The Batch were all standing behind you, watching the interaction with great interest as the pair of you bartered back and forth.

“50 percent. I’ll get whatever you need,” Cid narrowed her eyes and you felt your fingers flex against your palm. “A nice mutually beneficial agreement,” she slithered smugly with a wide grin. Even you knew that wasn’t a good deal, Hunter had told you not to take her first offer, to fight your corner no matter what.

“10 percent and you get me what I want anyway, or you won’t make any profit.” Your insides quivered when she revealed her teeth in amusement.

“40 percent.”

“15,” you countered quickly.

“If I may…”

“Sssshhhhhh!” Echo, Wrecker and Omega hissed at Tech, his hand dropped sullenly as he stepped back against the wall.

“30. That’s my final offer, Needles.” The Trandoshan pulled back her lips again as you stood there working out if this was a decent deal. In truth you didn’t think she was going to budge on the 50 percent of your earnings, she was certainly fairer than others of her kind.

“30 percent, but 5 goes towards paying off the debt for these guys.” The silence that followed made you wonder if you’d said something wrong, maybe they didn’t have a debt and you’d misread the situation completely.

“You got your own debt to worry about,” she hissed. “But I must be going soft. Deal.”

“Yes!” Omega gave a little clap and jumped on the balls of her feet.

Cid threw up her hands in defeat. “Give the boys a list and they can source your equipment. Now, get out of my sight.” You filtered into the group, behind Omega who kept shooting excited looks at you and in front of Tech whose eyes were darting all over his datapad.

The Batch pooled around the bar, Omega sat on a stool and instantly began to ask you things about the unit, how much space is there, what equipment you could get in there, were you excited? Hunter ordered drinks for everyone but it was Wrecker that caught your eye. He stood away from the group a little, putting Echo between you both and avoiding your gaze completely. He still created a sense of fear and you had no doubt if he showed any aggressive behaviour you’d melt into a useless puddle…but there was something else about him you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I have composed a list of the basic equipment you might possibly need. I am in no way an expert and, though highly unlikely, I might have missed something.” Tech was standing next to you, he hadn’t even taken his helmet off because he was so engrossed in writing this list for you. He held out the datapad; his eyes locked with yours for just a second before they swept to look at something else.

You took the pad and scrolled through it, mentally checking it against your own. Tech eased off his helmet and grabbed the drink that had been put before him.

Bacta tank, bed, defibrillator, injector, power cells, mediscanner, monitors, resuscitation equipment, ventilator, adaptors…

“This a good list,” you murmured and his eyes scrunched happily. “I would really like a droid though.”

“I did not consider that.” He took the datapad off you. “Would there be a particular model you were favouring? Of course there are the ones like AZI,” as he waved his hand the small small droid who had served them drinks, with blinking photoreceptors glided into view.

“Hello. I am AZI-345211896246498721347.” Tech stared at the droid as he rattled off his model number before continuing like he wasn’t interrupted.

“There are the AZ series, or the 2-1B series also FX-medical assistant droids... I am sure I could look up newer models but you won’t find them in a scrap yard.”

“A scrap yard?” Tech sat back slightly so he could look over your disgruntled expression, once again adjusting his goggles to give him time to reply.

“I thought the situation was obvious.”

“Well it’s not to all of us,” Echo said over Omega’s head, clearly following the conversation between you. “So, explain.”

“Cid can barely keep up with our food and fuel costs, or so she says. It is highly likely she’s trying to cut her losses and will expect us to pillage a scrap yard at the very least, saving her money and resources in the process.”

“Great,” Hunter mumbled.

“Nothin’ like a good scavenging mission,” Wrecker said as he winked at Omega.

“Of course the Marauder won’t be able to house all that is required and the fuel consumption would not be very cost effective making multiple trips,” Tech continued, holding a finger up as he made his point. “To summarise, we need a light freighter and a scrap yard that we won’t be killed for entering, let alone stealing from.”

“Do you think Rex could help?” Omega asked as she looked around the group.

“It’s possible,” Echo reluctantly agreed. “He might know of some abandoned medical facilities.”

“That’s too risky,” Hunter countered as he hunched on the bar. “Places like that would be under Imperial control.”

“Can’t hurt to ask though. Right?” When no one gave her an answer Echo sighed and slipped off the seat.

“I’ll see if I can contact him.”

You stepped out of the private room you’d changed in, seeing Hunter notice the movement as he acknowledged you.

“Not a bad fit,” he said. You adjusted the skin fitted bodysuit, the spare plates of katarn they had given you felt weird and clunky.

“Are you sure?”

“Whether it is or it isn’t, is irrelevant,” Tech announced as he entered the hold and took an appraising look at you. “Fact remains this is all we could give you that had any hope of fitting.” You fidgeted with the griptions, trying to make the armour fit better and succeeding only slightly. “May I?” Tech pointed to the spaulder that was the most uncomfortable and you hesitated before giving a jerk of your head.

His eyes stayed on the katarn as he adjusted it for you, his fingers precise in their movements. You stayed still, too scared to even breathe at his closeness as you stared at a point over his shoulder.

“There. That should sit better.” When he moved away you relaxed a little, rolling your shoulder noticing it did indeed feel better. Alarms went off in the cockpit making Tech look up. “Ah. We are approaching our destination.” The whole squad moved into the cockpit leaving you to follow a few paces behind.

The lights of hyperspace fell away as Tech dropped the speed of the ship and a large structure loomed out in the blackness of space.

“A decommissioned Haven-class medical station, we should be able to find everything we need in here.” Tech announced as he guided the borrowed freighter closer to the huge structure.

“It’s huge,” Omega whispered, leaning forward in her seat to try and get a better look.

“Yes. Only twenty of these were built and used during the War. It has been designed to replicate the Republic symbol, which we could see if we approached from above. Capable of housing approximately eighty thousand soldiers at…”

“Are you sure it’s abandoned?” Hunter demanded, across Tech’s rambling, eyes narrowed and arms crossed to show he was unhappy with this entire operation.

“My scanners indicate there are no organic life forms.”

“Still don’t like it,” he muttered darkly from behind your chair.

“Should I continue with the approach?” Tech asked, cocking his head to look back at his comrade, you knew if Hunter gave the word Tech would turn around in a heartbeat. Hunter gave a curt nod and then disappeared in the back.

“There’s a flight deck dead ahead,” Echo said. “Everything seems to be disabled.”

“Just as well Rex gave us the access codes,” Tech said as he flicked a few switches. The ship glided slowly into the hangar, darkness filling the cockpit as it did. “I can remotely access some of the basic systems so we may exit the ship and not get sucked out into space.”

“That would be helpful,” Wrecker said and nudged Omega as he walked up beside her, making her giggle.

“Here we go,” Tech looked up as the magnetic shields sparked to life across the wide entrance of the hangar. “Air pressurising...” The ramp released, allowing the blue glow of the shields to filter into the hold. The clones all put their helmets on, Omega armed herself with the energy bow she carried. You had the spare armour but no weapon, maybe they didn’t trust you enough just yet.

Tech was the first one out, hurrying to the console with Echo so they could turn the life support on in places it was needed. You hesitated, your hand on the edge of the opening as you peered into the blue lit space.

“You might want this.” Hunter was standing a few paces behind you holding out a blaster and hilt. “We picked this up on one of our missions. Do you know how to shoot?”

“No.”

“Ah, well it’s better than nothing.” You took the belt off him and just stood there, you weren’t sure how to put it on, you’d never worn anything like it and there were too many straps. You managed to put it round you but then dropped the other side so it clattered on the floor. “I can…”

“No!” He froze at the panic in your voice as you backed away. “No I-I can do it.” What you didn’t see was the edge of the ramp, your foot slipped and a small scream escaped as your view titled dramatically. You fell into something solid, the air in your lungs pushed out leaving only a tight pain behind.

“Gotcha!” Wrecker shouted through his helmet, his arms taking your weight easily. You choked, desperately trying to drag a breath in but the pain was too intense.

“Wrecker! Lay her down.” Tech appeared above you; his eyes flitted quickly over your panicked face before his eyes locked with yours. “Breathe,” his voice sounded clearer coming though his helmet. “Deeply.” His head bobbed as you tried to do what he asked, his intense gaze never leaving yours, which surprised you. “Breathe, again.” It was easier this time, the pain ebbed and you were able to take in more fresh air. His kind eyes were rimmed so evenly by those specs he always wore, the visor to his helmet clicked up so it didn’t fall down. “Again.” You managed a full breath, exhaling gently. “Good. She’s all right,” he told them in an unbothered tone as he got up and went back to his datapad.

Echo looked at Tech’s retreating back and then stepped to you with his hand out. “I’ll help you up.” Your chest was still aching so you took the help offered, trying not to seem rude when you snatched your hand away, curling your fingers into your palm.

“I can do it for you,” Omega slipped the belt from your grasp and wrapped it around you, her fingers making quick work of the buckles and soon she stepped back.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“It’s ok,” she replied with a shrug. “I didn’t know what I was doing for a while either.”

“I have applied gravity and life support systems to the sections Rex told us about,” Tech pushed into the moment, shouldering past Echo. “I do suggest we be quick about this in case our activity has alerted any Imperial patrols nearby.”

“Wrecker, Echo, take Omega and bring back whatever you can carry. Stitch, Tech, you’re with me.” The others broke off and soon it was just you and the two clones walking ahead.

The light from their torches lit the way and you found yourself looking up at the vast corridors. The walls were smooth with only a few lowlights where the walls met the floor. Trailing a hand along the surface as you walked, marvelling at how you could feel the alloy but only as it came through the thin black body suit the clones had given you.

Hunter’s footfalls were steady and evenly matched on the grated floor, whereas Tech’s were slightly choppy while he alternated looking at his datapad and actually seeing where he was going.

You hated to admit but you were in awe of such space, the silence, the deadness and how it stretched before you. This entire station was empty and it blew your mind that the Imperials wouldn’t try to utilise it somehow. Just a relic of times gone past, a reminder that nothing lasts forever.

“Anything?” Hunter questioned.

“We should be approaching one of the treatment rooms just around this corner.” Sure enough a control panel appeared on the wall and Tech easily opened the door.

You weren’t sure if they stepped aside to let you in or if you just shoved past, the medic in you almost crowing at the equipment that slowly came to life before your eyes. Lights flickered on in the bacta tanks casting that calming blue glow across the room. Ventilators hung on the wall along with air tanks and large screens to show the patient's vitals all in one place.

There were beds all still set up and waiting for patients like this station was still active only yesterday. Cupboards were full of dressings, medications, needles and intact medkits. You even let out a squeal when you happened upon fresh, brand new looking defibrillators.

“I think we have hit the jackpot,” you heard Tech say to Hunter.

“Well, let’s grab what we can and get out of here.” You were still staring in awe when Hunter activated the repulsors on one of the beds, dragging things out of cupboards and loading it up.

“Stitch! This is your operation,” he called over. “Gonna help?”

“I want one of those bacta tanks,” you announced loudly, making them both pause.

“Is that really necessary?” Groaned Hunter, his helmet turning to look at you.

“Yes. What if one of you gets shot and I don’t have a bacta tank to immerse you in?”

“She has a valid point,” Tech agreed, waving his datapad in your direction.

“Fine.” Hunter activated his com. “Wrecker, we need you here.”

“Yes, boss.” While you waited for Wrecker you went around filling the bag you’d brought and helped Tech put extra into a supply crate.

“I’m going to start walking this back to the ship and check on the others.” Hunter walked the bed out and disappeared into the corridor. You activated another bed and dumped the bags onto it, also grabbed a couple of ventilation masks.

“This was a really great idea,” you blurted out, suddenly feeling the need to say something to the clone left in your presence.

“Actually it was Omega’s idea. She’s the one you should be congratulating.” You went to stand next to him, seeing the glow of the bacta tank reflected in his round specs.

“Can we take it?”

“Execution might take some time, ideally syphoning out the bacta would make it easier to transport, but I feel we don’t have the luxury of time.”

“I’m here, what am I lifting?” Wrecker walked in, cracking his knuckles, his helmet pushed up to rest on his forehead.

“This bacta tank. Be careful,” warned Tech.

“Easy,” the big man declared. You watched with your heart in your mouth as Wrecker lifted it out of the brackets with more care than you thought possible. He left out a soft grunt, heaving the large glass tank over his shoulder making the fluid inside slosh around.

“Wrecker!” You and Tech both lurched forward when it looked like he was going to lose his footing, only for him to catch his balance.

“I’m ok,” he huffed. “Is this it?”

“Yes.” You grabbed the handle on the bed and began to steer it out into the corridor, Tech trotting along behind you.

“Tech. Come in.”

“I read you, Hunter.”

“We have company, get back to the ship.” All of you quickened the pace, Wrecker did his best but you could tell he was struggling with the precarious tank on his own. He stumbled at one point and you thought he was going to go over and smash the whole thing.

“Careful, Wrecker!” Tech tutted.

“A little help?” His brother growled.

“Fine. Hold onto these and then we can both carry it.” They easily changed positions, holding onto the brackets and carrying the tank between them. You had no idea Tech was even that strong.

“Where are you guys?” Echo demanded through the com just as the group of you entered the hangar. Hunter and Echo both descended the ramp, Echo helped push the laden hover bed up into the hold and Hunter went to help with the tank.

Proximity alarms were going off in the cockpit and Omega shouted they were coming.

You had no time to feel, no time to register the panic as it blossomed in your chest, you were too busy trying to secure your new equipment. The ramp closed and you helped Wrecker secure the bacta tank as Tech took control of the ship with Echo.

Blaster shots sounded, slamming into the side of the ship and you fell against Wrecker who automatically wrapped you in his large arms. You were all jolted as the ship lost altitude, spinning and then slamming into the flight deck floor and skidding to a halt against the far wall.

“The ship is damaged!” Called Echo over the whine of alarms.

“I concur. We won’t be able to leave the station without some makeshift repairs,” Tech added.

“Abandon ship,” Hunter ordered. “Leave the equipment, we’ll lure them into the station and hope we can double back when there are less of them.”

The ramp was jammed half closed, leaving just enough room for you all to slip out the gap and hunker down behind some supply crates unseen.

Troopers disembarked from the shuttle that had landed just inside the magnetic shield, their blasters all aimed at your freighter as they stalked forward.

“Split up. We need a distraction,” Hunter whispered.

“I got this,” Wrecker growled. Echo followed his comrade, the pair of them sneaking in the shadows until they got to the other side of the fallen freighter.

“Hey! Bucket heads!” All the troopers turned to Wrecker as he stood at the entrance where you had been earlier. “Come and get me,” he roared before disappearing.

“Move out!” Hunter ushered Omega in front of him, his hands protective over her while Tech stayed by your side.

“Hey! There’s more over there!” Came the shout from behind, followed by a rain of blaster shots that had you all ducking.

“Run!” Hunter shouted.

Eventually you came to a fork in the corridor and Hunter made a motion for you and Tech to dive down one while he and Omega took the other.

“Lead them as far into the station as we can, they can’t cover the whole thing. Tech, can you get the lifts working?”

“I can. It is possible we shall get lost as well,” he replied into the com as he ran.

“Then let’s keep our wits about us.” Tech glanced at you, his gaze almost apologetic.

“I need to head to the main console in order to access the core systems of the station all at once.”

“Where’s the nearest one?”

“Well that’s the issue. I’m not entirely certain,” he confessed. Your footsteps slowed as Tech consulted his datapad, your blaster was out but it was a foreign weight in your hand, palms sweating in the bodysuit and you hoped you didn’t have to use it. Tech held up his datapad as you watched the corridor behind hoping the troopers had followed Hunter instead. “We might need to do some climbing. I hope you’re good with heights.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” A slight hysterical breathy giggle bubbled up as you chucked a wide eyed glance in his direction.

“Unfortunately, no.” He stopped abruptly and pointed at the doors you hadn’t even noticed appear. “This will do.” You watched him get to work, connecting his datapad to the control panel so he could open the doors, only to reveal the longest, darkest tunnel you’d ever seen. Tech leaned out and shone his torch up the lift shaft. “I can see the next level, of course opening the doors from in here will be tricky.”

“Can Echo do it?” You asked, making the helmet swivel round, his eyes looking you over as he contemplated your suggestion.

“Potentially, yes,” came his crisp response. “If he were to come across a portal, he only needs to access the doors on the next level and not the whole…”

“Tech!” You gestured down the darkened corridor and he readied his grappling hook, throwing it up with precision into the blackness. You heard the clink as it collided with something and hooked into place. Tech tugged on the line and then held out his hand for yours.

A blaster shot pinged into the door beside you, leaving behind a charred spot and automatically you ducked, throwing up your arms to cover your face.

“Grab on!” Tech shouted over the noise but you’d already backed too far from him. The shots were well aimed, effectively cutting you off from Tech as he tried to reach a hand out, snatching it back when someone fired. You started to turn, if you could lead them away from him then he could carry out the plan.

“Stitch!” His voice echoed after you, but he was distracted, returning fire with his pair of blasters, falling to his knee to make himself a smaller target. Casting one last glance at him you started to run.

Heavy boots charged after you, their footfalls sounding like the pound of your nightmares and it spurred you to run faster. The corridor went on and on, smooth sides curving round just enough to keep you out of the troopers line of sight until one shot landed at your feet, making you trip and fall in shock.

You landed heavily, spreading your hands out to try and catch yourself but still gasping for a breath as your armour protected you from the worst of the fall.

A mirrored puck dropped to the floor, rolling in front of you, spinning in circles until dropped flat, only to be crushed under the boot of a trooper.

You stared at the new set of boots, noticing the dark colour was different to the rest of the soldiers you’d seen. Slowly your eyes travelled up the greaves that covered his shins, almost recognising the cut of the armour that he wore.

Sliding your hands closer you managed to sit up, eyes flicking to the barrel of the sniper rifle that was trained on your face. His helmet wasn’t that of a traditional trooper although it carried the same shape, it was the wrong colour. The rifle followed your movement, the rangefinder gently clicking back into the upward position.

“What do we have here?” His voice was like ice, silky and clear through the helmet but it had an edge that made you freeze. “Take her,” he demanded, finally lowering the rifle so you could be bound at the hands.

“Sir,” a trooper stepped forward.

“What?”

“The rest of them fled into the station,” he reported.

“Not for long,” the sniper drawled as he rested his rifle on his shoulder. “Take her to the hangar. They’ll come for her—and we’ll be ready.”

Crosshair stared at the ship, it was no Marauder, just a common freighter currently full of medical equipment. He didn’t know what his squad mates—no. They weren’t that anymore.

Feeling the toothpick between his teeth, he almost snapped it in half from the pressure of his jaw, squeezing it until the wood began to bend. Instead he made himself relax, adjusting his rifle so it rested better across his leg. It wasn’t a patch on his old rifle, the one Hunter had taken from him, but he’d modified this one as much as he could without Tech’s assistance.

He could sense the troopers around him were growing restless, shifting from one foot to the other, the occasional sigh, a roll of a shoulder here and there. They weren’t the same calibre as the regs, that was for sure.

He sneered, hearing the click of your bindings as you shifted your position. He could barely bring himself to look at you, he’d never admit it to anyone, even himself; but it hurt to see you in that armour. One of the spaulders you so ignorantly wore used to be his and it made his irritation levels go up a few notches.

The audacity …he didn’t know who you were, he didn’t care but the fact you wore katarn, The Bad Batch katarn, was enough. They would come for you, of that he had no doubt.

Whatever… you were of no consequence, you were irrelevant in his eyes. Bait for something much more important.

He’d hidden the Batches' survival on Kamino from the Imperials, still not sure how such information would serve him. Maybe it would in time, maybe it wouldn’t. Knowing something the Empire did not gave him a better sense of superiority, probably misplaced.

All you’ll ever be is a number to them… those words had haunted him more than anything else. They crept up on him in the quiet of his room, when he sat down to eat alone, they screamed at him when he looked round for his brothers and they weren’t there. But he’d made his decision, some part of him still hoped his brothers would change their mind and join him.

The company he’d been with was the closest when the warning went off for this particular station and he’d answered immediately, not really sure what he’d find but he had a feeling he knew it was his old squad. He did assume Tech would have been cleverer and blocked such a transmission, clearly not.

“Sir. How long are we going to wait?” One of the troopers finally asked, dropping his weapon.

“As long as it takes,” Crosshair replied haughtily. He hated these new troopers, they didn’t have the training or the discipline that he had. No doubt the rest of the company was being trapped within the station, Echo and Tech would have access codes giving them control of the entire thing.

Crosshair could feel you observing him. He tried to ignore your fear filled gaze but your shivering was getting on his last nerve.

Jumpy little thing, no wonder they felt you needed some armour. Clearly, it was the only thing keeping you alive.

#tech tuesday #tech #tech the bad batch #the bad batch #Crosshair #tech x you #tech x reader(stitch)#tech x reader #tech x f!reader

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silverwings22 · 23 days

Text

Song of the Sea: Chapter 7: Here There Be Dragons

Chapter warning: child endangerment, communication is 9/10 of conflict Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a

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Next Chapter:

The buzzing of an alarm and pulse of red lights woke Shiani from her fitful doze in her new overhead berth. She opened the door from within, sticking her head out. "Blinkers?"

Wrecker held up his arms. "Yeah. We broke something coming off Salucemi. We're gonna have to land to fix it. Come down?"

She nodded and dropped into his arms. "What broke?"

"Our capacitor." Echo sighed as Wrecker set her down. "Tech says we have a spare. We're landing on… Ordo Moon, I think he said. Honestly, I'm tired and I was only half listening."

"You work hard, Chainbreaker Echo. Let me help fix it?" She offered. He did look exhausted, and she wanted to prove she wasn't useless. If Tech wouldn’t be the voice to keep her here, she needed to solidify her friendships with the other members of the squad. She

Echo smiled. "You know how to replace a capacitor?"

"I was building my own ship. I know lots of parts… but I don’t always remember names." She nodded. “Just need to see it.”

"You were building a ship?" Omega squealed from beside her.

“I was getting off Kamino one way or the other." She nodded.

"That's pretty clever. Where'd you learn that?" Hunter chuckled.

"Tech taught me. Tech… taught me lots of things. But he still thinks my brain is full of bubbles." She shook her head. “I’m smarter in my own language, I promise."

Echo glanced back towards the cockpit. "What's your own language?"

"Hearts. Siren’s talk by singing, and we feel what the other feels when we do. We only sign when we need to be quiet, like hunting…" She explained, looking up at the blinking lights. "Sometimes it’s easier that way, because you’re never misunderstood… but when someone knows how you feel and ignores it, that’s hard. Frustrating."

Wrecker patted her head. "I want to hear you sing now."

"Later, I’ll sing for you." She nodded as they moved to land. “But first, we fix the ship. It’s your home, gotta keep it safe for you and Baby Mega.”

"The air on this moon is not safe to breathe." Tech walked into the hold as they touched down, offering Echo a respirator. "We only have two, Shiani, so you should remain-"

"I’ll be fine." She grumbled, brushing past him to follow Echo to the hatch. Down her ribs and tentacles, blue light pulsed that he’d only seen glimpses of before. At least the blue rings were gone... She certainly still seemed angry, but Wrecker had been so sure she wasn’t.

He groaned and followed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Hunter looked at Wrecker. "We've got to figure something out. Omega needs a place to sleep."

"I've got an idea." Wrecker grinned.

"Then get on it." Hunter smiled. "I'll go try to figure out supplies."

"Yes sir!" The kind giant grinned and picked up a crate, heading to the gunner's mount.

Outside, Shiani's gills opened on her ribs to filter oxygen from the inhospitable air. She let Echo boost her into the guts of the ship to find the blown capacitor, the cyborg secretly delighted to both have help and witness the annoyed look on Tech's face when the siren wouldn’t talk to him. Tech had never had to compete for Shiani's attention before. He’d had it, undivided, whenever he wanted since he was child. She always answered his comms, always was there when he visited… Had he taken that for granted?

She passed the broken part out to Echo and pulled the new one to her with a tentacle, freezing suddenly and her blue light going dark. "... Nexu on this moon?"

"No, I do not believe so." Tech huffed.

Shiani poked her head out of the ship, looking around with a pinched expression. “Somethi- eee!” Her words were cut off when something knocked the siren out of the side of the ship, snatching the capacitor from her hands. She tried to hiss and swipe, but the creature flattened her with its tail before she could get more than a cursory glance. It was a very large, reptilian something that took off with their ship part in its mouth, vanishing into the dark.

“Are you injured?” Tech knelt where she’d been knocked to the ground, checking her over when Echo drew his blaster.

“That scaly-thing took the part!” She tried to clamber past him, hand over her mouth. “I’ll get it back-”

“You will not be able to track that creature, nor are you prepared to fight it. We need to alert Hunter.” Tech grabbed her wrist firmly. “You handled the nexu, but that creature eats energy, and will be extremely territorial. You could be hurt.”

Shiani stiffened, looking from him to the direction the creature had taken the capacitor. Every wild instinct in her was screaming to give chase, before it got away. She had to tell herself that things were different on the surface, and the clones knew better. She had to play by their rules, and she didn't even know them until she was told. "Hunter is a tracker… okay. I’ll get him. What… was that thing? So I can explain."

"I believe it was an Ordo Moon dragon."

She nodded, yanking her hand free and darting up the ship steps before he could say anything else that might hurt her already tender feelings. "Hunter? We need a tracker."

"What's wrong?" The tattooed clone stuck his head around from the supply crates, Omega right behind him mimicking the way he walked.

"A dragon took the part out of my hands. Tech said you can track it down, and fight it better than me."

Hunter sighed as Echo and Tech walked in behind her. "You let a lizard steal our spare part?"

"Shiani did try to warn us, but it was too fast." Echo sighed, handing over his respirator.

Omega wrapped herself around Hunter's side. "Can I come with you?"

Hunter looked at her, wanting to say no, but she looked so hopeful… and Shiani had this burden of disappointment radiating off her from where Tech had told her to stay put. "Alright. But you listen to every word I say, deal?"

"I promise." She took the respirator from Tech and followed him out.

Shiani was halfway back up the wall to her compartment when Wrecker caught her. "Hey, can you help me with something? You got more arms!"

"I can help." She agreed, dropping back down and following him to the gunner's nest. He was setting up a bedroom for little Omega, and needed hands to hang string lights to make it cute for her. "This is pretty, Wrecker." She looked up, fascinated with the lights. It reminded her of her string of camp lanterns in the cave; the very first thing Tech had ever given her. She used to lay under those lights and stare at them in the dark of the night, when she missed him most.

Now she wondered if he’d ever actually missed her at all.

"Think she'll like it? A kid should have a bedroom." He grinned.

Shiani nodded. "She will."

"Where do you want your space to be?" He offered. "You're the only other girl on the ship."

"I can stay in the ceiling… I’ll be out of the way." She drooped a little. She wasn't good at concealing her emotions, she'd never had to while living on her own. And it wasn't her people's way anyway.

Wrecker surprised her with a warm hug. "Don't look so sad. And don't hide from everyone, we like you. What's the matter?"

From the cockpit, Tech leaned back in his chair to eavesdrop. He couldn't help it… Shiani had always been cheerful and pleasant. He didn't like the way she'd snatched away from him, or how she'd only spoken to Echo when they were making repairs.

"I’m just… hurt." The siren admitted, and he reached for his med kit.

"That dragon get you?" Wrecker frowned.

"No. Not outside hurt. Inside hurt. Hearts hurt." She explained. "Tech… Hunter said it was his idea to send me away. After all that time in exile, and he was my only friend. It felt like when I got banished… like he didn’t want me anymore." She sat down, hugging her knees. "Tech thinks he knows better… and maybe it is safer far from you guys. But I don’t want safe. Safe is lonely. I want to be here and be a part of Tech’s family. I could keep you all safe, or at least try…"

Wrecker hugged Shiani a little tighter. "Tech always thinks he knows better. Most of the time he's right, but sometimes he's not. You fit with us, so it'll be okay."

"Do you think he doesn’t like me anymore?" Shiani looked up at Wrecker, cuddling back with a heartbroken expression.

"I doubt that. But you might have to talk to him." Wrecker patted her back.

"Ugh, talk. Basic doesn’t have the right words for all this feeling." She grumbled.

"Maybe you can sing, like you said before?" He offered.

Shiani nodded. "I’ll try… I just want things to be the same with him. I was always happy with Tech before, no matter what was happening."

"That's the spirit. How about I make you up a bed in the back by the tailgun? Then you can see the stars. You like those, right?"

"Yes. I love the stars" She nodded, and he hopped down the ladder to go try to pull off a miracle for her and make her feel like she belonged.

In the cockpit, Tech sighed and leaned back a little further, pushing his goggles up his forehead to rub his eyes. Emotions were complicated… but he hadn't meant to hurt her.

When Hunter and Omega returned with the capacitor, Shiani was sitting in a swing made of her own limbs, hanging from the ceiling upside down.

"I chased the dragon down a hole and got the part back! I didn't even have to use Hunter’s blaster!" The girl crowed.

"Proud of you, Baby Mega." A tentacle patted her head. "Wrecker has a surprise for you in the gunner’s seat. Go see, you’ll like it."

Omega skipped off with delight. Hunter gave a wry smile. "She saved my life out there."

"She loves you. She’s a good girl with good hearts." Shiani nodded. "Lights all fixed now?"

"Yeah. We've still got some damage, but we're going to need a more secure landing zone to fix it." He leaned against the wall. "I'd like you to help Tech, if that's not too much trouble."

"I can help." She nodded. "I’ll be your mechanic, if you want. Echo gave me a datapad, I can learn more and faster now, without bothering anyone."

"Good." He smiled. "... you still mad at Tech?"

She flipped upside down, head hanging over the floor a scant inch. "Not so mad… just upset."

"You know he doesn't really want you gone. Once we found out about you, he talked about you all the time. Every time he found something out there, he wanted to show you."

She peeked up. "He talked about me?"

Hunter nodded. “Yeah. Go easy on him, he’s never had a friend that wasn’t a soldier before. And having you here is a big change. Change is hard on him.”

“I’ll figure out how to talk to him.” She said after a long pause that left her non-existent eyebrows scrunched. “This is hard. I don’t want him to hate me, or think I’m stupid.”

“He doesn’t, trust me.” Hunter offered a hand to help her off the floor. She was surprised when he placed a ration bar in her hands. "Now eat and go to sleep. You've got to be exhausted. There will be plenty to do later."

"Thank you." Shiani nodded with a weak smile before going back to the tailgun where Wrecker said he'd made her a bed.

It was a couple thick shock blankets and pillows arranged in a little nest by the window, and the kind giant had even tried to make it cute with some of the string lights like he'd done for Omega. Shiani smiled and sat down on the blankets, taking her boots off and unwrapping the ration bar.

It was chalky and hard to swallow, but she was hungry. After she’d finished it, she pulled up one of the blankets around her shoulders to ward off the persistent chill of space. The stars were just as pretty back here as they'd been in the cockpit… but she liked them better with Tech around.

She heard the other Batchers one by one turn into the bunkroom, leaving their best pilot on duty. Her big eyes were heavy, the need for rest nestled at the back of her neck like a lead weight. Still, something was missing. She'd never turn her brain off if she didn't make up with her best friend in the galaxy; she'd just dream fitfully like she had in the overhead.

Tech was glancing over his maps, deciding the safest place to land the ship, when he heard the door open. Shiani, wrapped in a blanket, padded in softly and sat on the floor beside his chair.

"That is the least comfortable place you could be." He said mildly, as she leaned over and put her head on the seat beside his armored knee.

"Missed you." She mumbled.

"I thought you were upset with me."

"Still miss you." She closed her eyes. "Can I stay?"

Tech sighed, setting his handheld aside and carefully putting a gloved hand on her head. "You wish to stay on the floor?"

"Closest to you." She smiled when he lightly scritched between her tentacles. "That feels nice."

"I am sorry, Shiani. It was not my intention to upset you." He tried not to smile when her ear fins wiggled. "I hope you will forgive me, but it was my intent to protect you."

"I don’t want you to protect me. Or make choices for me, just cause you think they’re best. We could have talked about it together." She opened one eye and looked up at him. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye. That’s not fair, Tech.”

“Would you have agreed to go if I’d spoken to you about it?”

“No. I don’t want to go with strangers just because it’s safer. I want to be with you. It’s the only place I’ve ever wanted to be.”

"What about your home?"

"I didn’t belong there. I didn’t know where I belonged, until the first time you and I looked at the stars together. I belonged wherever you were." She looked up at him with those liquid eyes… and Maker, had she always been so cute? "You’re so smart it makes you stupid sometimes."

"I am exceptionally intelligent-"

"I know that. But you forget other people know what they want."

"And what is it that you want?" Tech's mouth was oddly dry suddenly.

"I want you." She smiled and closed her eyes again, snuggling her blanket more securely around her shoulders. "I want to be wherever you are. However you want me there."

He sat with this admission for a long time, but when he'd processed it enough to try to question further, she was asleep with her head against his knee. He talked himself out of waking her to satisfy his curiosity, slowly stroking her head with his fingertips. "If that is what you wish… then you may stay. For now." He finally sighed.

He hoped she knew what she was getting into… but he wanted her to stay too. Change was challenging for him and dangerous for her, but she'd picked him. That meant something. He'd never had anyone, not even his brothers in their bred-in loyalty, pick him and only him before.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars #fanfic #tbb tech #song of the sea

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nabtime · 10 months

Text

Our Empty Graves VI

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 6: i’ll cover the mirror (til it shows me someone i can face)

Chapter Summary: Danny settles into being part of Red Hood's gang. Gets shot and almost bleeds out. Again. Red Hood doesn't let him and also makes grilled cheese.

Chapter Notes: title from I WENT TO HELL AND BACK by AS IT IS Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 7 // Spotify

Danny would often just drift about the apartment. Haunting it. He certainly wasn’t living in it. One would have to be living first, in order to do that. No, the safe-house apartment Red Hood insisted he stay in was a place he haunted. Shambling aimlessly unless called upon by Red Hood himself or the screams of someone in need within the Alley.

He’d been in the Alley, working under Red’s command, for three weeks now and he’d say he was getting pretty familiar with his surroundings now. Learning the layout, learning the people, learning the rules both known and unspoken. Learning more about the politics and about Red Hood’s hostile takeover.

He’d been right that Red Hood was a new Gotham Rogue. But he’d been wrong about the man’s character. He was ruthless, true, but only to those that crossed the line. He could be callous, but only to those that deserved it. Sure, the duffel bag of heads was probably a bit much and might even be considered needlessly cruel. But he’d done it with purpose. He’d done it for a good reason.

Red Hood was trying to take over the Alley and make it better. He’d seen the plans. The strategies in motion. Harm reduction. Protection. Housing projects. Assistance programs. All of these funded by his gang, run by the community, and controlled by Red Hood through his lieutenants. He was a Crime Lord in the sense that all crime within his purview was controlled and run through him. His methods were bloody and oftentimes vile, but they worked. Danny had come to really admire him in the few weeks he’d been running errands for the guy.

And he was, honestly, often just running errands.

“Go help this family move in, I know you have super strength. Put it to use.”

“One of the girls isn’t feeling well and Ms. Bajorek made her some soup. Drop it off for me. You don’t have anything better to do anyway.”

“Here’s a list of groceries and a tip for Mr. Nguyen when you get them. I’m making you and the Alley kids lunch today. Don’t argue, I know you haven’t eaten, Glowstick.”

When Danny asked, the man had shrugged and said, “Well, since you won’t tell me more about what a Fetch is I’m gonna take the name seriously. So, you know,” and handed him a list, “go fetch.”

For all that he was a Crime Lord that did Crime Lord things, there was also quite a bit of mundane managerial tasks he had to do to keep everything running. And he was so meticulous about it all. Danny would often watch him in awe, hovering over his shoulder as he ran calculations and mapped out routes. Patrol routes that would cover the most vulnerable areas, delivery routes that would hit the most in need, drug running routes that would ensure the product stayed clean from the source to the buyer and cutting down anyone that messed with it. Red Hood had plans upon plans upon plans. Take out an uprising here, build a clean shelter for the houseless there, plant a communal garden, shoot one of Black Mask’s men in the kneecaps. Everything had a time and a place and was leading towards a safer city. Even if his methods were less than desirable.

Red Hood did bring him on more serious tasks, though. Ones that needed doing quickly and efficiently and viciously. Ones where mercy wasn’t likely and back-up was needed for stragglers. Red Hood never ordered him to take a life, never made him cross that line he was reluctant to cross. It wasn’t that Danny had any compunctions against killing, but he didn’t think he had the stomach for it himself. Didn’t think he could live with a death so directly on his conscious when so many were already piled there. He didn’t want to think about the ghosts that might come back to haunt him. He admired Red’s resolve all the more for it. He was ruthless but he was practical. He didn’t shy away from taking a life that didn’t deserve to keep living, but he spared all those that could reform.

Danny was always there as his shadow, as the menacing monster he kept on a leash. He was starting to earn a reputation in Gotham’s criminal underground. Red Hood’s loyal dog. Get too close and he might bite. (He’d only ever done that once, turning his mask intangible and lunging, his fangs sinking into reprehensible flesh. The woman had been beating a child. She lost her arm for it.)

He was also known, embarrassingly enough, as a sweetheart among the girls and the kids. A mystery and most times scary and off-putting. But the girls still cooed whenever he came to their rescue and the kids insisted on following him around (the braver ones even attempting to climb him like a tree). He didn’t know how to feel about it. Most of the time he popped out of invisibility rather than mingle. He was supposed to be a monster. Just a ghost haunting the city. In Amity the people had fled at the sight of him, screaming even as he saved them. They knew what he was, knew to treat him accordingly. But- the people here- they- It was different. He tried not to think about it too often.

Communication was something he was working on. Red Hood seemed to be the only one really able to puzzle out his game of charades, the others taking ages to guess what he meant or giving up after the first few tries. He rarely went anywhere by himself unless Red Hood specifically sent him out or it was an impromptu rescue, so it wasn’t often a problem if Red could translate. One of the kids had given him a whiteboard and a dry-erase marker at one point, making it so much easier. He kept them phased in his suit whenever he went out. One of the guys that ran with the girls had offered to teach him sign, but the lessons were slow-going and sporadic. He’d only had two in the past three weeks. But maybe someday he’d get there. He didn’t try to ‘speak’ much anyway. These past three weeks had been the first time in years anyone had even tried to talk to him. Most Amity Parkers had seen him and run and the ghosts he fought just tried to kill him.

Again, he tried not to think about it too much.

There wasn’t much else to do, though. He drifted through the halls of the apartment Red Hood had shoved him into, only occasionally using the couch for naps when gathering ectoplasm wasn’t enough to recharge, and it left his mind free to wander to dark places. Places he didn’t want to visit.

It felt odd. To inhabit a space meant for humans. To have a place to sleep and eat and live again. Red had come by a few times with ingredients and cooked for him in the empty kitchen, saying he didn’t care what Danny was- he needed to eat sometimes. Danny would obediently eat when the man was there, but the leftovers often went to rot. He felt bad about it. That was food that could go to someone else, someone who needed it more. But he could never bring himself to eat without company. It felt wrong. Ghosts didn’t eat. Didn’t need to eat. Often he would open the fridge and just stare. Stare at the food that was made for him, the food that he was allowed and encouraged to eat. It felt like too much and he’d shut the door.

He’d been drifting through the kitchen when the walkie-talkie Red used to talk to him from a distance with crackled to life. They’d tried regular burner phones, but something about Danny’s whole- being, didn’t agree with good signal. So after pouring a little bit of his own ectoplasm into the radio, the walkie-talkie seemed to be the only thing to work.

“You there, Fetcher?” Hood’s voice was extra staticky through his mask and the radio, but at least he didn’t seem hurried or in pain. Starting a mission or patrol instead of in the middle of one, then. Danny really didn’t like it when Hood called on him because he was injured, hated seeing the man in pain like that even as he felt honored to be trusted.

Three taps against the speaker. Yes.

Danny couldn’t exactly talk into the radio and without working burner phones he couldn’t text. So they had a system of taps that Hood could hear instead. Three for yes, four for no. Two taps for help, and five for false alarm.

“Good. We got some fuckers trying to take back territory for Black Mask. Need you to help me scare ‘em shitless.”

Three taps. Pause. Three more. Hell yes.

“Good boy,” and damn if that didn’t give him a highly inappropriate shiver. “Meet me on the roof and we’ll plan our ambush from there.”

Well, here’s hoping for a fun night of bashing heads and shooting out kneecaps.

═════ ◈ ═════

Danny stumbled into the tiny bathroom of his apartment, clutching his stomach in a bid to stem the flow of toxic green blood, gloved fingers slick with the substance.

His free hand slammed down onto the sink counter for balance as he wobbled and he made the mistake of looking up. Looking up into the mirror.

He never looked at his reflection. Hated the sight of it. The reminder that he was no longer human. Would never be human again. The thing that gazed back at him from the surface of the mirror was a monster. With the lights off in the bathroom it was extra eerie. Black hooded figure blending into the shadows, nothing standing out except for the pinpricks of glowing green eyes- reflecting like tapeta lucidum from under his tinted visor. The outline of his breathing apparatus just barely there, like the maw of a beast just barely in view. The only other source of light was the glow of the blood dripping through his white gloved hand.

He turned from his reflection with disgust and tumbled into the bathtub, hoping to rest and soak in whatever ectoplasm he lost. Here he could just- lay down and also not make a mess. He’d hate to have Red Hood flambe another couch because of him.

He hadn’t meant to get shot. Honest. He’d gone intangible, he knew he did. The bullet should have never hit his abdomen. It should never have caused as much damage as it was currently doing. He was bleeding so much… Man he really hoped Hood didn’t show up while he was trying to heal in the bathtub. He didn’t need to face the man while delirious with blood loss again. The first time was embarrassing enough, he didn’t want a second.

The wound was healing so slowly… There was something about that bullet. About that gun. Something wasn’t adding up here.

It was like he’d been hit with one of his parent’s inventions all over again.

Black Mask wouldn’t deal in ectoplasm, would he? What use would he have for it? He’d heard something about a kryptonite shipment that Hood was planning to ambush, so maybe the rarity? It was from another dimension after all. Didn’t matter that the place where Amity used to be was still crawling with it and so was Gotham. It wasn’t easily harvestable for humans. The GIW or his parents might be the only ones with a good supply, and even then they couldn’t control what type it was. For weapons it might be useful, if it was combative ecto. Some people had adverse reactions; tingling, numbing, temporary paralysis. If you were a ghost or ghost adjacent it was worse. So much worse.

In the beginning, most Amity Parkers were fine if they got hit by a blaster, just annoyed and covered in goo. But as time went on and more and more people were exposed, more and more of them started becoming susceptible to the many uses ectoplasm could have. Good to use for healing with the regenerative ecto but also more likely to be hit by a stray blast of combative ecto and not come back up. His high school classmates had been particularly vulnerable, having been infected multiple times directly. The combative type would take them down and then the healing type would bring them right back up. It could take time, though, if you were human- time some of his classmates hadn’t had enough of.

They’d lost a lot of people before they realized they had to be more careful with their shots. Before they realized that the thing that was killing them could also bring them back. Stupid. It’d all been so stupid. It had taken so, so many times of him trying to frantically heal everyone hit before his parents arrived to shoot him indiscriminately, before anyone realized he was trying to help them. And even then they hadn’t trusted him. It was one of the last things he did before giving up on being human. The last time he’d pretended to be alive, just to sneak into his parent’s lab and leave them a sample of regenerative ectoplasm and a theory written in his dad’s handwriting.

It didn’t matter how careful his parents pretended to be with it- the suits, the breathing apparatuses, the heavy gloves and protective eye-wear- they still slung it around in the name of taking down evil ghosts. Shots firing every which way- hitting people and poisoning the land around them. Whatever got the ghost. Whatever “saved the day”. It’s not like it actually hurt anyone, right?

Ectoplasm was a funny thing. It’s what ghosts were made of. What they fought with. What they ate and used to heal. What the lairs they inhabited were made of. Goo but with feelings. Multipurpose soul juice. The thing that he was losing a lot of…

Man, he was starting to feel a bit dizzy. He sure hoped the wound would start to heal itself soon, before he fainted and couldn’t do anything about it… Would be a silly way to fully go out. Bleeding out in a bathtub.

Oh, his vision was going black.

Well, it was no worse than the first time he died…

═════ ◈ ═════

He could remember the initial disappointment the most. How his parents had deflated so completely when the culmination of decades of work had failed them at the most pivotal point. He remembered the uncertainty- they could live off the patents, yes, but they weren’t exactly bought all that often and they mostly got by on the grant money. And if the grant money was gone because none of their inventions or theories or anything ever worked- then how would they survive? He remembered the despair. He remembered the relief he felt when the portal didn’t work at first. Maybe without the portal in the way his parents would pay more attention to him, spend more time with him. And then the guilt because his parents just looked so sad. He remembered the discomfort, the whole family dressed in their restrictive HazMat suits. He remembered how suffocating the SCBA felt to breathe in and how hard it was to move in. How hot it’d been. He remembered his parents ushering them all back to the entrance to dress down in heavy silence.

He remembered his parents going back to the drawing board, however dejectedly, and learning to resent the portal all the more for it.

And then Sam had presented him with a challenge. A dare. Goading him into exploring the portal on his own. To look into the maw of the monster and place himself inside its jaw. This was a mystery in need of exploring and Danny was the only one that could do it.

They’d huddled together, the three of them, at the entrance to the lab. Sam eager, Tucker reluctant, and Danny… Danny had been scared. They’d snuck in after his parents had left, and they’d been alone in the lab when they really, really shouldn’t have.

Uneasy, he had donned the HazMat suit once again. Piece by piece. White with black trim. Specifically designed by his parents to deal with non-vapor ectoplasm. Not that they’d seemed to ever encounter it. He had prepped all his pieces, made sure his tank was full of oxygen. Checked for cracks and tears. His hands had shaken the entire time. He had pulled the mask over his face, pulled the overalls over his jeans and clipped them into place. He had snapped the nitrile gloves on, tearing one in the process and having to get another. He had then stopped to watch his hands flex under the gray material, trying to put off the inevitable. The hooded coverall had come next, slipping his socked feet into the strange material of the white suit. His socks had been mismatched- one red and one blue. Then the black boots with steel toes and shanks. Then the outer gloves. Then the tape to seal it all in. To seal him in his tomb. And lastly he had shrugged on the tank and connected it to his mask and turned the oxygen on. And with heavy, heavy feet, he’d made his way into the lab proper. To the dreaded portal.

He could remember the chill he’d felt, before he’d even stepped near. Remembered the sense of impending doom. He’d taken one last look back at his friends, taking in the hesitant thumbs up from Tucker and the happy shooing motion from Sam. She’d thought it all so cool. Thought that trying to study ghosts, trying to punch a hole in their dimension to do it, was all just fascinating. After though… After she couldn’t even think about ghosts without paling, without running. Running from him.

He’d seen the pale imitation of a reflection in the glass that sectioned off the entrance from the lab proper, face unrecognizable behind his mask and gaping hole of darkness set behind him. Translucent like he was already a ghost. He’d pulled the small flashlight his suit had within its pockets and had shone it into the abyss. Small glow piercing the sticky shadows. He’d felt the livewire energy beneath his feet when he’d stepped inside, but did not heed the warning. It was just wires and metal plating. Nothing more and nothing less. It was another of his parent’s failed inventions. He’d thought nothing more of it before diving further in.

The cables. The cables that his parents- his mother more- had been adamant about keeping tied away and neatly stored within the machine itself had been strewn about. A result of his father’s frustrated tinkering in the aftermath. And what had it mattered to him that he hadn’t placed them back where they should have gone? His prized invention was moot, anyway. There was no harm in leaving a mess when the mess was inert. When nothing was likely to happen anyway.

But Danny hadn’t seen them. His pen light had been facing above, checking the upper pallet of the monster he had climbed inside. Checking for teeth. And then he’d tripped. And he’d felt fear like he’d never felt before. Heart-stopping. He’d faintly heard the grumbling roar of a hungry beast, felt the eagerness like it’d been palpable around him. And his hand had landed on a button that shouldn’t have been there. The secondary on switch that had been forgotten about. Until that moment.

And after that it was nothing but pain. Burning, scorching, tearing. Fire and shock and blinding white pain like he’d never experienced in his life before. Like he was melting and being ripped to shreds at the same time.

And all he remembered was screaming and screaming and screaming. And there had been nothing but green and green and green until it all. Went. Black.

Anything that had immediately happened after his half-death was a blur. Stumbling out of the portal feeling wrong. Not even noticing that he was completely alone in the lab. That Sam and Tucker had fled with the flash and the screaming. He barely remembered doffing his gear, completely haphazardly and with no regard to the burnt and melting pieces. Collapsing on the bench and blacking out until he was being shaken awake by his sister. Jazz had been crying, taking in the lichtenburg scar that was less lighting through his veins as more burns across his skin in the same pattern. She’d been desperately shaking him awake. He remembered looking over and seeing his parents watching the swirling green of the functioning portal with gleeful awe. His mother turning with a question on her lips before it all morphed into concern. He remembered his mother and father being so worried about him as they had loaded him up into an ambulance. But he’d also remembered that the portal had come first. That the portal had always come first.

Scratchy sheets and thin blankets. Bland jello and plain broth as his vocal chords healed from being shredded by his screaming. Burn cream and bandages. Stress tests and neurological checks. Can you squeeze my hands? Breath deep for me. Look into this light. Can you raise your arms? Twitching nerves and bradycardia. Hands that would shake under stress and a temperature permanently low- no matter how many times they placed him under the heated air blanket- the bair-hugger. All he’d ever felt was suffocated. Overheated. Drowning.

Low, low, low. Everything had been low. Dangerously. Blood pressure check. Low. Alarmed Nurses and Doctors, checking and rechecking. Adjusting the cuff, moving the cuff, using a manual cuff. Low, lower, lowest. Heart rate check. Too low. Too, too low. Stand up. Sit down. Walk. Move. Please, please move. And it would get higher, just a little bit. Acceptable. But not for having just been forced to jog. Respiration check. Slow, slower, slowest. Breathing any faster had made him feel like he was going to panic. Temperature check. Freezing. Frigid. Too low, again and again. He’d never felt so cold in his life. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

But his heart was still beating, however slow. His lungs were still expanding, however infrequent. He was still alive. Mostly. Probably. Right?

Sam and Tuck never visited.

And then the changes began.

It didn’t happen until he’d been released from the hospital. Cleared only after meeting with every specialist under the sun and getting hesitant approval for outpatient care. Talks of pacemakers, burn treatments, and invasive surgeries in his future. And then he fell through his bed.

Not out of. Not on top of. Through.

He’d woken up in a panic underneath his bed- and holy shit had it been rank under there, he really needed to clean more- in the dark and in the dust, not knowing what had happened. He’d crawled out from under it and flopped back onto his bedspread, heedless of whatever grossness he’d dragged with him. He’d been too tired to think about why he’d woken up under the bed, but in the morning- bed sheets covered in dust- it had been harder to forget. But there had been no answers, not then. Nothing to even guess at, nothing at all to tell him that he hadn’t just died in that accident, but had become the monster under his own bed. Inhuman.

He’d woken up a different day, feeling heavy and like it was hard to breathe. He’d felt disoriented and out of sorts. Then he’d seen his hands. Covered in gloves. White, rubbery, chemical-resistant gloves. And with dawning horror he’d looked down and seen those heavy white steel-toed boots. And the bunched black material of a hazmat suit. The colors were wrong- he was wrong. But it was the same suit. The same one he’d almost died in. And suddenly he’d realized that maybe that almost wasn’t as almost as he’d first thought. That there hadn’t been an almost at all, just death. Just. Death.

And then he’d spiraled. Had he been pretending this whole time? Convinced himself and everyone else he was alive when he’d really been a wolf in sheep’s clothing? A monster just waiting to tear off the thin veneer of life he’d disguised himself with?

And then there had been a knock on his door and the surprise of the sound had shocked him into reverting back to human form. And from there the process had been slow and painful, but he’d learned. Learned of the word Halfa, the term Fetch, and what it meant for him. Learned how to fight, quick and dirty, in order to prevent himself and the rest of his town from becoming full ghosts. Learned that despite his heroics, deep down, he was still a monster. Other. He’d never been exactly normal, not with parents like his, but now it felt impossible to be comfortable in his own skin. Unsettling. Disturbing. Nightmarish. A creepy little boy with creepy little powers. It was all he’d become and all he’d ever be. Didn’t matter how cool the powers were on the surface, how much he distracted himself from the truth by playing with them. He’d still had to deal with the fact that he was no longer human. Not fully. And no one knew. Nobody would ever know. He’d seen to that.

Not that it mattered now. Not with everybody gone. Long gone. And it was all his fault.

═════ ◈ ═════

“Son of a bitch,” came the familiar static of Rad Hood’s voice, rousing Danny from his dazed state. “Don’t you fucking die on me you limp noodle!”

Danny wanted to groan. He could feel bandages tightening around his midsection, hands- shaking hands?- winding the fabric around a tender bullet hole, parts of his suit cut off and leaving his skin vulnerable to the air when it so rarely was.

No. Danny clumsily signed. It was one of the few things he could sign, along with- Good.

“No,” Red said angrily, “you are not good. I had to fish a bullet out of you, Fetcher!”

He sounded distressed. Or maybe that was just Danny still delirious from blood loss. Again. He really needed to stop doing that. He let out a calming trill, hoping that would get the man to relax and stop yelling. It did not.

“Don’t you make stupid noises at me, Jellyfish,” he reprimanded, voice terse. He was close, so very close, hands still busy wrapping up Danny’s abdomen. Red’s body loomed over his, crammed into the tiny space of the tub. He could see the tweezers and saline and suspiciously green bullet still sitting on the lid of the toilet next to them. “You’re a fucking dumbass coming back here and just laying in your stupid toxic blood. What were you planning to do? Marinate? Idiot.”

He wanted to protest. He signed another No. And even tapped out four taps for a No he would use for the walkie-talkie for good measure. He hadn’t exactly planned to keep bleeding into the bathtub, alright? How was he supposed to know the bullet would stay lodged in there? I mean, sure, he could have made an educated guess before passing out, but still.

“What kind of guy that can density-shift gets shot in the first place, anyway?”

Danny rolled his eyes and smacked Hood’s shoulder for that. Not his fault the bullets were phase-proof when they shouldn’t have been.

“Don’t you smack me when I’m trying to save your life,” he grumbled, tying off the wrapping and sitting up. “Asshole.”

Red crossed his arms and glared down at Danny, his bulk almost blocking out the light above them. His knees caged in Danny’s hips and they were awfully, awfully close. Damned blood loss again.

He sighed without making sound, his shoulders rising even as he felt a twinge from his would pulling. With the bullet out he’d start healing in no time. Not that Red knew that. He patted Hood’s thigh in reassurance and immediately regretted it. What the hell kind of juicy-ass thighs did this man have? What the fuck. He needed to focus, dammit.

He motioned with the other hand for something to write with, scribbling in the air.

“Don’t you carry a whiteboard?” Red asked flatly.

Danny pointed to the wrappings around his wound. He kept the whiteboard and marker in his chest. He couldn’t phase that out right now if he tried. He couldn’t phase anything right now. He was surprised to find that he was even still in his phantom form, probably thanks to Hood’s interference, otherwise his core would have retreated into itself and used all other available ectoplasm to heal while in “human” form.

Red shook his head and climbed out of the tub. “Alright, alright, jellyfish. H-up we go.”

How many times was Danny just going to be casually scooped up by this guy and carried like a princess? Twice was already too many to keep his dignity intact. Once again he was plopped onto the couch and left as Red rooted around for something to write with. Deja vu, much?

He came back with a legal pad and a purple crayon. Why crayons? Always crayons?

“Explain,” he demanded, handing off the utensils.

Danny grabbed a cushion and used it as a makeshift table of sorts to balance the legal pad on and began writing. At least this time he could use his hands properly. Even if they were shaky from the anemia.

Bullets didn’t pass through like they should have. Something is wrong. They shouldn’t be like that. Coated in something Black Mask shouldn’t have access to.

He flipped the pad around, Red grabbing the edge to keep it steady as he read.

“Well, kid,” he said, slowly. “Looks like you’re fucked.”

Danny flipped him off. Not helpful, Red.

“Any idea what this substance is that our number one enemy shouldn’t have is?” he asked, settling down to sit on the flimsy coffee table right beside the couch. Danny was surprised it could hold his weight.

The question made him pause, though. Did he tell Red Hood about ectoplasm? Risk the man finding out more about what, exactly, kind of monster he insisted on harboring in his territory? Risk his only ally ratting him out to the GIW?

He kept silent, hesitant. He trusted Red. He did. But not that much, not yet. If it became a bigger problem, became a problem that was going to hurt others, then he’d confess. But for now he shook his head, hoping Red would take his silence as contemplative instead of edgy.

(The incident with the knife that had left Red Hood himself paralyzed with a dangerously growing weakness, was far from his mind. He hadn’t seen the green sheen to the knife that cut the man. Had no reason to know that combative ectoplasm would have such harsh repercussions for him. The consequences of this were yet unknown.)

Hood hummed and Danny couldn’t tell if it was because he believed him or not but mercifully the man moved on. Unmercifully, Danny did not like the change in subject.

“You need more hand-to-hand if your powers are going to be useless. You rely on them too much as it is.”

Danny ripped a page from the legal pad and threw it at him. He knew how to fight just fine, thanks! Sure he’d learned it all on the fly, but still! He could brawl!

Red snickered as he caught the paper and threw it back. “Non-negotiable, jellyfish. I’m kicking your ass for almost dying on me tonight.”

Danny threw his hands up, exasperated. He hadn’t almost died! He’d have been fine! Probably. Maybe not. But still! No ass kicking required! He crossed his arms and tried to project the feeling of a pout. Maybe he could puppy-dog eye his way out of this. Red Hood was built like a tank and if he was the one that was going to teach Danny how to properly fight, then no thank you. He may be okay with the thought of dying by those thighs, but he’d rather not be bruised all to hell first. He also didn’t want to loose any more dignity and he was sure that sparring with Red would take all he had left.

“Nope,” Hood said cheerfully, ignoring Danny’s silent protests as he moved toward the kitchen and rummaged around Danny’s fridge. “No amount of sparkly-eyed looks will get you out of this, glowstick. I’m talking to Sandra in the morning and setting up a time in the dojo for us and that’s final.”

Danny waved his hand in a flopping motion, resigned. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Woe be unto him and all that. Death by Hood punches it was.

“Why do you not have anything in this fucking fridge ever,” he heard Hood mutter, along with clinks and bangs as he moved about. “I swear to Batman’s furry ass if you haven’t eaten since Friday you’ll be wishing I killed you earlier tomorrow.”

Batman’s furry ass?! Tomorrow?!

“Don’t act surprised,” he rebuffed, voice still distracted as he dug through cabinets and gathered any and all cookware that was only there because Red brought it in the first place. “If you insist you’re fine I’m gonna treat you that way. I know you have accelerated healing.”

Danny slapped the couch cushions so Red Hood would properly hear his protests. Ancients, he really was going to die. Hood was going to kill him. Kill him good and dead. He was not long for this world. Goodbye, all, there wasn’t anything good keeping him here anyhow.

“Well, shit, at least you got cheese and bread. Somehow. How have neither of these gone bad already?”

Ooh, does that mean grilled cheese is on the menu? Suddenly he found his will to live.

He popped up from behind the couch like a meerkat looking towards the kitchen, excited at the possibility of cheesy-bready goodness. The only thing missing was tomato soup, but he knew he didn’t have that in his cabinets.

Hood leveled a threatening spatula at him as he turned to face the living room. “You. Get back down. Losers who bleed out because they agitated wounds don’t get the good stuff.”

Danny huffed and fell back into the couch. Spoilsport. It’s not like it even hurt anymore. He was fine. Would be fine. Probably.

Oh man, he was really gonna hate tomorrow. But tonight- grilled cheese and witty banter would heal his heart and soul. And probably also the ectoplasm. But, the power of Red Hood’s grilled cheese was not to be underestimated.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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bougiebutchbitch · 6 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/avelera/733616528394715136/i-feel-like-one-unexpected-side-effect-in-the

Can I ask your opinion on this post I saw? Just really enjoy your critical input on things. It’s okay if you don’t answer this, I’m not trying to demand spoons you don’t have <3 thanks for reading

Hm! I think it's an interesting post for sure. And I think it's a valid vent to make, from someone who's obviously been in fandom for a very long time!

But I do think it misses A Lot Of Things Out in order to make its point.

I do agree with their point about how fandoms prefer 'potential' ships to the actuality. But. The exact same preference for 'ship bait' is common with loads of popular ships, regardless of whether they're queer or not. Mulder/Scully works so well because they never get together. There's a reason why House/Cuddy was teased for so many seasons before it became canon (and why they broke up pretty damn quickly after becoming established). Ditto with Garcia/Morgan in Criminal Minds, who flirt constantly but never progress to romantic interest.

The preference of viewers for 'will they/won't they' narratives is certainly not unique to queer media, and it is, in fact, well known and accepted across show writing? It's not just fans of queer ships who are lured in by the premise of 'ooooooh are they gonna kiss'.

I'm certainly not so keen on the subtle inference of this post (and the less-subtle inference of the comments) that queer people should Sit Down, Shut Up, And Just Be Grateful because a few years ago, there was so little canon queer rep. Like... That is exactly how progress stagnates. Do other queer people really think we should be happy with scraps tossed to us by studio executives, and thank them for daring to write about queer relationships in the first place?

Um. No?

Keep writing meta. Keep writing criticism. Keep pushing for better and better rep, and don't let anyone tell you 'it was worse in my day, so you should be thankful now'. That sort of subtle conservatism is really damaging, especially when it comes from within the queer community.

And just... Saying that Izzy was 'never even canonically established as queer' when he confessed his love for Edward, had a clearly established Toxic Past Romantic Relationship with him, was said by his crew to be in a "toxic relationship" with him, had a whole arc about accepting his queerness that ended in him dressing in drag and singing La Vie En Rose while his ex and his new boyfriend fucked, and had ridiculous amounts of gay tension with numerous men in the show, just because he never kissed a man on screen is....

Um.

Well, it's certainly A Take, I guess. But. Uh. Buddy. I think you may need to rewatch the show. The baseline for engaging in discussion of queer media should really be recognising that a character can be thoroughly established as queer without them kissing another guy.

And just on a more personal note: I and many other queer fans loved the Good Omens ending because it was perfectly in-character. From the start of the season, we were shown that these two characters love each other, and that is a love that has developed over centuries - but they also have a fundamentally opposing relationship with authority (Heaven in Aziraphale's case, Heaven and Hell in Crowley's). We are shown the chief conflict between them from very early on, and this crescendoes to create a dramatic, bittersweet, brutal, perfectly in-character finale.

OFMD could not be more different.

Most of the criticism of Ed/Stede in S2 is wholly from a storytelling perspective. Yes, it's a canonical central queer relationship; that's great. But like.... the development of that relationship was all over the place. They moved too quick. They agreed to slow down. They immediately had sex after this.

In itself, that's interesting!! That shows a lot about their characters! There's the potential for growth and progression here! Hell, I was happy when they broke up because they had different life goals, because it felt as if they had been building towards that point all season. I wanted them to be a happy endgame, yes, but I expected all that divergent character growth wouldn't be thrown away; that we would get Ed perhaps retiring while Stede stayed at sea, with the suggestion that they're in a long-distance relationship, or that when Stede is ready, he will join Ed. That could have worked really well!

Buuuuuuut.

Instead, Stede gave up on his life goals that have driven his character from the very start with literally 0 build up or in-character reasoning. They settled down together, after an entire season (two seasons, in fact....) of a show demonstrating how and why that wouldn't work. And we're supposed to view it as a 'happy ever after'.

In short: the problem is not nearly as simple as 'queer fans aren't satisfied with a queer relationship'. The problem is with the plot, the pacing, and (predominantly) the character writing. If Ed or Stede were a woman, I doubt anyone would feel differently.

Ed and Stede both went on a self-discovery arc, but that self-discovery was entirely 180'd for both of them in the final episode with only clumsy foreshadowing (mentioning the inn in the early episodes is.... not the sort of solid character development you need to lay if you want to make a character like Stede change the direction of their life so utterly!).

#more thots #may be a little blegh because I am a little blegh today

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librathefangirl · 10 months

Text

A Debt to Pay - Chapter 2

ao3 (Chapter 2/3; 2/4k+)

Febuwhump Day 19: "You deserve this".

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Torture, Kidnapping.

At long last: chapter 2!! ;D

It should be noted that this fic does not follow canon timeline. The defeat of the Demon King has happened, but Escanor is still alive and the whole chaos thing with Merlin has not happened.

Read Chapter 1 here! Read Chapter 2 on ao3 or under the cut!

In hindsight, Meliodas had not thought this one through. At all. Not that he would have changed anything given the chance. He stood by his decision. There was no way he could have actually let Gowther go through with that stupid plan of his. Confronting – going off alone! – with a demon who wanted to kill you was insanity. Maybe that made Meliodas the biggest hypocrite around, but he didn’t care. He was the captain; Gowther was his responsibility. He was not about to let him kill himself.

That being said, Meliodas probably should have put a little bit more thought into this – thought about what would happen after he got Gowther out of harm’s way. Galvina certainly had. There was no improvising on her part. She’d had a solid plan going into this from start to finish, the only thing that had changed was him for Gowther. For what it was worth, that meant Meliodas’ plan had worked. Now he just needed to figure out the end of the story.

A lot easier said than done. At least if you were looking for a happy ending. The moment they had stepped through the portal, Galvina had slapped a pair of handcuffs around Meliodas’ wrists. It was a solid pair, well-made and high quality. Thick but light, the black-ish metal glinting ominously in the light of the sun. Recognition pricked at his mind; he knew these cuffs. To Meliodas there seemed to be a hum to them, but he knew that was his imagination. He did know this kind of cuffs, they were completely silent to those around them. He’d never actually been on this side of them before. The moment they had shut around his nest, he’d felt the pull and grip of them; the feeling that there should have been a hum louder than a wasp’s nest. They’d been crafted by a demon with the intent to be used against his own kind, as was the Demon King’s wish – a pair of handcuffs capable of inhibiting even the demon clan’s powers.

Guess he wasn’t going to fight his way out of this one.

“Where are we?” Meliodas asked, looking over his shoulder at Galvina. The only response he got was Galvina glaring at him and shoving him harshly to keep him moving. Meliodas resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead looked around as they continued their walk. If he were to guess they’d entered one of the pocket dimensions existing in-between the human and demon realms. They weren’t widely known – although most things regarding the demon realm weren’t widely known amongst the humans – but easily accessible if you knew the right way. Truth be told, Meliodas was relieved. He hadn’t been in the Demon Realm in 3,000 years. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go back there just yet. He especially didn’t want to make that trip with a demon criminal who planned to kill him.

– X –

Fine. I accept your deal. I guess he has learned his lesson about following orders now. So, I’ll take my justice with you. Let’s go!

It felt like Gowther was trapped in a Nightmare Teller.

Don’t leave.

Except this wasn’t some crafted nightmare.

You’re gonna be okay.

This wasn’t a nightmare at all.

Is-... Is this goodbye?

This was all real.

I hope not .

An unalterable reality crafted by Gowther’s own actions.

Look after the others for me, will you?

“Are you okay?”

Gowther startled at Elizabeth’s question. He blinked repetitiously, his focus returning to the present. It didn’t feel any less like a nightmare. Elizabeth sat down beside him, meeting his gaze with a weak smile and eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gowther looked down at the floor. She was worried about him. She shouldn’t be – if anything, she should be blaming him.

“I’m fine. Merlin fixed me.”

Elizabeth shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. How are you feeling?”

Gowther didn’t want to think about that. For once, he didn’t want to understand, he didn’t want to feel it at all. He wished he could look at this without any feeling. Maybe he would still have come to the same conclusion his heart was. The facts pointed to one thing.

“This is all my fault.”

“No,” Elizabeth immediately insisted. “It’s not, Gowther. I know that for certain.”

“How?” Gowther watched as she took his hand in hers, a warm feeling slowly starting to spread through him at her kindness and attempt to comfort. “You weren’t there.”

“Because I know Meliodas.” Gowther looked up at her face just in time to see a tear slide down her cheek. “Because this is what he does. Always has been.”

A soft smile graced Elizabeth’s lips as she looked off to the side. Her gaze turned distant, trapped in memories long ago; maybe back in those early days with Meliodas, maybe somewhere in the multitude of lifetimes they’d shared since.

“Whatever happens,” Elizabeth squeezed his hand gently, “Meliodas will try to protect the people who matter the most to him, no matter the cost. Especially if it’s his own life.”

Her words hung heavy in the air between them. Logically, Gowther saw the truth in them. He might not have known Meliodas through all the lifetimes Elizabeth had, but he still knew him. Meliodas, who’d made himself a traitor to his own kind and family, to fight by Elizabeth’s side. Meliodas, who’d almost turned himself into the one thing he didn’t want to become, to end the curse and save Elizabeth from more suffering. Meliodas, who’d tried to face the Demon King alone, to keep the others away and not have them risk their lives for him any further.

“But,” Elizabeth continued with another reassuring squeeze. “We will find him.”

The tears still shone in Elizabeth’s eyes, yet her gaze was steely. She held her head high, any trace of fear gone from her face. She looked the epitome of the princess she was raised as, but also every bit the goddess who had dared to stand against the gods. Gowther didn’t have to look in her mind to know that whatever doubt she still held was now locked away tightly. To her, there was only one end to this.

Gowther envied her confidence; the refusal to believe this might end in tragedy. The future was too uncertain, the factors too many. Galvina’s behavior alone foretold a different outcome. She was explosive in her actions, driven by her thirst for revenge almost to the point of madness. At the same time, she was determined too; she knew what she wanted and how to get it. She was not about to let anything get in her way. Gowther wasn’t sure they would find Meliodas in time.

– X –

The destination of their journey turned out to be a cross between a cave and an old cottage, or an old wooden cottage jammed into the cracks of a mountain. It seemed a perfect match for Galvina; cold, callous, and firmly stuck in the past. Galvina wasted no time shoving Meliodas inside. As soon as they entered, Meliodas felt the drop in temperature. If he’d been human, he would probably have been shivering. As it was, the low temperature just burned across his skin. The wound on his arm felt especially hot, like a small fire dug into his flesh. When the door shut behind them, Galvina didn’t even bother to lock it. Not that it really mattered. Galvina quickly dragged Meliodas to the wall opposite the door. His back was slammed roughly against the wall, the cuffs threatening to break the skin on his wrists as Galvina attached them to a dangling hook hanging from the ceiling.

Meliodas’ new position strained painfully through his shoulders and back. No matter how much he stretched, the height of the hook left his feet barely touching the ground, forcing his cuffed wrists to support most of his weight. His cut arm had gone from a small burn to sending ripples of fire throughout his body. Meliodas breathed harshly through his nose, trying to let the new pains wash over him. Once they were firmly shoved to the back of his mind, he redirected his attention to Galvina again.

She had started pacing. A small dust cloud followed in her steps, the sound of them echoing in the small room. Her hands moved quickly in harsh jerking movements. The fluidity she had shown earlier in the fight was all gone now. Similarly, Meliodas could feel himself losing the confidence he’d had when initially confronting Galvina. Though, truth to be told, that confidence had been more of the failure-is-not-an-option variety than the this-is-gonna-end-well kind. Meliodas had always been confident in his own ability; he’d also learned quickly how to be confident even when he wasn’t. A part of him had known this wouldn’t end well, but he had known he could keep Gowther from taking the fall for it too. Gowther was his responsibility, and so was Galvina. As the leader of the Ten Commandments, he was the one who deserved her rage.

Galvina finally came to a stop in front of him, her jaw clenched so tight Meliodas would have worried for her teeth – that was if she hadn’t been plotting his painful demise that very second. For a moment, they both just stared at each other. The only sounds in the room were the slight rattle of the hook’s chain and their strained breathing; Meliodas’ from the position he’d been forced into, Galvina’s from poorly suppressed emotions.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Meliodas tilted his head to the side, taking her in. Her jaw was still clenched enough to make her words sound sharp and forced. The tension running through the rest of her body was almost palpable. Meliodas was in no position to oppose her, not with the restraints hindering his movements and powers. Right now, all he had were his words.

“What exactly do you want me to say, Galvina?”

Her eyes flashed, miasma leaking out from her like a physical manifestation of her hatred; “That you regret ruining my life!”

Regret… Right. Galvina saw herself as the only victim here. She was putting all the blame on the Demon King and those following his rule. She wasn’t wrong about that, nor about Meliodas’ part in this – but she was also completely disregarding the pain she herself had caused, the civilians’ lives she had ruined. Just like she had been about to do all over again, attacking Gowther for something that hadn’t been his choice.

On one hand, Meliodas could appease her rage, feign a confession for all his wrongdoings, and apologize for even the parts he didn’t regret. This whole ordeal would probably be a lot less painful for him if he did. On the other hand, it wasn’t in Meliodas’ nature. He had learned a long time ago not to let others scare him into submission, even if they had power over him – and Galvina had the power to kill him today. Meliodas hadn’t been born as the most feared demon; he had grown up around demons who were stronger than him, bigger than him, older than him. Even if Meliodas couldn’t do anything to defend himself, he wasn’t about to just submit to her either. If he did he was telling her she was right, and then there would be nothing stopping her from taking her revenge on Gowther as well. Meliodas could only trust that she would honor their deal for as long as he was still alive. He could pray she’d stick to it even after his death, but he couldn’t count on it. By then at least the others should be all caught up. They would keep Gowther safe.

“You don’t want me to say that,” Meliodas responded at last.

“Do NOT tell me what I want!”

“You don’t just want me to say it, you want me to actually regret it. But I don’t. I told you before, Galvina, I’d do it all again.”

She didn’t explode at that like Meliodas had expected she would. Not that it meant that her reaction was any safer for him. Meliodas was well aware of the all-silent kind of wrath, and just how deadly it could be.

Galvina leaned closer, her breath blowing in his face with every hissed word, “I will make you regret it.”

Yeah, this isn’t going to end well , Meliodas thought to himself as Galvina turned around. She walked over to the wall to the left with determined steps.

The room they were in was scarcely furnished. To the right of where Meliodas was hanging were the bare necessities: a bed, a chair, and a table with the remains of a meal. On the other side, the wall that Galvina had approached buckled and bent with the mountain it was embedded in. On one of the few flat portions hung several weapons. All sharp and deadly. Galvina knew how to properly wield them too. She, just like Meliodas, had been raised in a war. For a while, it had felt like fighting was all Meliodas knew how to do. He wasn’t sure Galvina had ever left it behind. Her hand trailed over her assorted weapons; brushing over a double-bladed axe; testing the weight of a curved dagger; before finally she picked up a spear with a slender head that no doubt could still cause serious damage.

I’m sorry, Elizabeth – gods he wished he could see her face one last time – I can’t give you the life I promised.

Galvina returned to Meliodas, the spear now held tightly in one hand. As she met his gaze, he saw no remorse. In her eyes, she wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t her right. This was why she’d never been offered a spot in the Ten Commandments. This self-centered entitlement that had left ruins in her wake with no regard for enemy, ally, or civilian alike. Even if Meliodas had trusted her on his team, his father would never have trusted in her loyalty.

“Last chance, traitor.”

An eerie calm surrounded her. There was no reasoning with her, Meliodas knew, no way out of this. Ge just hoped Elizabeth and the Seven Deadly Sins would stay away from here.

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Galvina pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath through her nose; “Fine.”

She moved with fluidity and speed, barely giving Meliodas any time to react before she had driven the spear into his leg. The edges of his vision blurred as a blinding pain erupted through his body. Galvina kept pushing and pushing, pulling a scream Meliodas couldn’t suppress, and she didn’t stop until the spear hit the wall behind him. Finally, Galvina let go of the spear. Both she and Meliodas were breathing heavily. Blood oozed out around the spear, slowly running down the front and back of his leg and pooling on the ground under him. Galvina leaned down close to his face once more, meeting his gaze without hesitation.

“You deserve this.”

The stench of blood hung thickly in the air. It made Meliodas feel woozy – or maybe that was the pain? Or the blood loss? No, not the blood loss. The impalement had been clean, missing anything too important, while the spear itself kept most of the blood from spilling out of the wounds.

“You – ugh – you really think so… huh?”

Galvina turned around and walked over to the weapons again, “And soon you will too.”

– X –

Tension filled the room. Gowther and Elizabeth sat in silence now, his hand still cradled in hers. As time had passed, the others had gathered around them too. They were scattered around the room in various states of worry. Diane sat on Gowther’s other side, biting her lip. Escanor was basically shaking with anxiety as he eyed the door Merlin had disappeared through earlier. King had abandoned his position by Diane’s side in favor of stopping Ban from destroying the wall. Ban was… still destroying the wall. King’s efforts seemed rather futile. To Gowther it looked like it was more about having something to do than actually saving the wall. King did look the least anxious out of them. Gowther could understand it. He was doing the same thing right now, watching the others instead of thinking about the fate he had doomed Meliodas to.

Suddenly the door slammed open. The room froze, all of them staring at Merlin with bated breath.

“I know where they are."

To Be Continued

#libra's febuwhump 2023 #a debt to pay #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #meliodas nnt #gowther nnt #meliodas whump #gowther angst #libra writes #my fics #nnt fic

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