#dullie ship

[the-creator-undertale-au]

More Dust x Allie !!! It's been do long 😭😭

(Yeh I know Dust hates humans but Allie is a demon so it's ok)

Allie: @cookie12sposts

Murder/Dust: ask-dusttale

Chibi style 💗💗💗

#my art #the creator #undertale au #dust x allie #murder x allie #allie x murder #allie x dust #dullie #dullie ship #allie #allie is not my oc #dust!sans #murder!sans #dusttale

[iamnmbr3]

Alphard: Would you love me if I was a worm?

Tom: That's a stupid question.

Tom: You should ask something sensible like 'would you love me if I was hit by the Killing Curse but I'd found a way to evade death so I survived but I had to come back in an inhuman and terrible body created in a stone cauldron through dark magic out of snake venom and unicorn blood and human flesh?'

Alphard ... Tom that is disturbingly specific.

Tom: :)

Alphard: Tom what did you do?

Tom: Nothing yet. Just doing some...contingency planning.

Alphard: Tom!

Tom: ... So... would you?

#Alphard: That was my question! #Tom: Well I asked it first. #Alphard No you didn't. #Tom: I was the first to ask properly. Your version was impossible and unrealistic. #Alphard: *stares dully* #tom riddle/alphard black #hello to the 5 people in this ship with me #Tom Riddle #Alphard Black #Harry Potter #alphard black/tom riddle #and due to peer pressure i am also tagging this #Alphalord #xD #random musings

[dullie-blog]

First Meeting

One night as Allie and her friends were watching tv in their house (since they live with each other) they remembered hearing the news in the morning about a psychopathic killer on the loose but nobody tracked them down yet. They were pretty afraid to go out since all they know is that the killer comes out at night, but usually Allie does her night stroll. She didn't want to this time because of the fear that she would be targeted. As they finished watching tv, her friends went to their rooms to sleep and Allie turned off the tv, and decided to go check on her neighbors. While walking out of the house with a coat and umbrella because it was cold and raining, she saw some bloody prints on the ground and a blood trail. Her eyes widened and she turned to an alleyway, only to see a black figure. The figure slowly turned to reveal a skeleton with a jacket and a hood over his hear. One eye is red and the other eye is blue. He was covered in blood and dust, and he was holding a sharp bloody bone in his hand. He stared at her for a bit, then smirked insanely, and lunged at her. Allie squealed and tried to escape but he grabbed her right wrist and pinned her on the wall, causing her umbrella to fall out of her hand. She gasped from shock and pain, then the skeleton stabbed the wall by her face with that bloody bone weapon, making her jump and squeak in fear. She takes a look at the skeleton again and noticed that he had dust on him as well.

"You're pretty bold to be out here so late when there's a bunch of rumors about a killer on the loose.. kid." The skeleton whispered in a creepy manner. Allie was terrified, even though she can't really die, he can still torture her for the fun of it. The skeleton had his insane smile still. Then.. Allie realized that this skeleton... WAS the killer! She opened her mouth to yell but the skeleton quickly took the bone out the wall and poked her chin with it.

"Ah ah ah.. you wouldn't want someone to find your lifeless body on the ground if you yelled for help~" He whispered sadistically in her ear. She started sweating, but he just smirked, enjoying her being so afraid of him. The skeleton chuckled and moved away, releasing her wrist from the wall.

"You're lucky. I don't show anyone mercy human." He now said in his normal tone. Allie looked at him as he was walking off, but then he stopped turned to her with his creepy smile again.

"If you say anything to anyone.. I'll make sure you suffer slowly~" He threatened in a sadistic tone and teleported away. Allie stood there for sometime before picking up her umbrella and going home. Once she made it, she hung her coat and umbrella up to dry, took off her shoes and socks and let those dry too. She went to her room and sat on her bed, thinking about what occurred. She placed a hand on her chest and felt her heart pounding a lot. She was.. even blushing!

N-no way.. this can't be! She thought to herself, as she laid down to ease her mind. She sighed while rubbing her wrist because he kinda hurt it.

But she wasn't the only one feeling like that...

That skeleton was too, which is why he kept her alive~

#dullie #dullie week #day 1 #dust x allie #allie x dust #writing #My first time writing like this lol #ship #allie #dust!sans #dusttale #murder!sans

[natandacat]

Hm so powers had a crush on andrews, the cold ambitious work first girl...... help i see it even more now

#of all the VERY niche ships..... #help #anyway so edgeworth is 100% his type dully noted

[bittwitchy]

cw anti st*ggy and st*cky joke:

its funny how much i hate st*ggy considering i also dont like st*cky romantically

#but funnily enough i AM a steve/sam and b*cky/sam girl #but thats the one poly i wont approve of #for me u do u friends #how many tags do i have to do before it no longer shows up in tags brw #bc the fandoms for both of those ships are vile #esp when u admit to preferring sam w both of them they just get plain r*cist sometimes #i know its 20 to stay out of the tags but #will 20 also stop the flaggings from picking it up bc i dont wanna do that either #i wanna make sure your tag blocks work yknow #wtf even is sam and b/uckys pairing name #like im a b/uckyn/at aka w/interwi/dow girlie as well and they have both #is it like… w/interfa/lcon???? #why is b/uckys name first it should be sams #honestly that fandom is wild if you talk abt ships nnur ships arent the popular ones like #i woll dully admit i ship wild stuff too #not rly wild if m*rv*l cared enough to actually build the rels peoperly but like #as a comic reader im a st*ron fan and im forever mad at how they #royally fucked up sh/arons story just bc they wanted to fuck w h/ayley a/twell a known woman hater posing as a f/eminist #i do like st*ny but only when done right bc lbr… they couldnt even do theirn #friendship right enough to make cw actually impactful #and i dont understand why ‘literally was earning almost a billion per movie at the time even before they all were’ m*rv*l #chose to fuck w what cap 3 was to ‘compete w b/atman v s/uperman’ like #they had zero to worry abt ppl wont even pay attention to zacks films and pick apart anything to hate they can #ppl hate subtle storytelling which is how he storytells he hates shoving the plot in your face he wants you to overthink it #and they were launching the universe then like it was NEVER going to be a competition they just freaked tf out for no reason #losers #ima tag them now hopefully i dont end up int he tags if u have those antis blacklisted lmk if it works #anti steggy #anti stucky

[bettysupremacy]

congrats on the jobbbbb!!!! you’re gonna be the cutest ice cream scooper evaaa (close tie to Steve) 🍦

Could I please request something where you’re the cute new hiree at scoops and Steve has to teach you the ropes while crushing a little (are we sensing a theme?)

thank you beautiful I loved writing this he’s such a nerd

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily, leaning his weight onto the counter. “And this is where we make the cones.”

“Got it.”

“You might think ‘how hard could this be?’, well, you’d be surprised-“

“It was only hard for you!” Robin yells from behind the counter.

Steve laughs, welcoming the tease. “Yes, she’s totally right. It really was only hard for me.”

He shines in the fluorescent light of the sailor themed shop. The lights are actually loud, louder in your nervousness than you assume for him. His hair is big, swooping over and curling at the nape of his neck. He wears no hat, but you can assume why.

“Would you like her to teach you?”

You shake your head adamantly. Steve’s cute. Really cute. You’d seen him around town before, glimpses of a boy seemingly untouched by the hurdles of life, but you hadn’t known he’d worked here. Robin had given you the application as she had laid in your bed. Music played, the windows were down, the warm summery air drifted through the windows smelling of grass, and the both of you had collapsed silently on your twin.

“Please.” She had said, and you’d agreed.

But you didn’t know Steve worked here as well. Maybe Robin held that on purpose. You’d been to his house once. Once, for a party. It wasn’t lame and neither was his home. Tall ceilings, pretty staircases and family portraits. Why did he work here for $3 an hour? Steve doesn’t seem to know either.

“I’m very clumsy — I burn myself a lot — please ignore it.”

“I promise.”

He teaches you the mechanics of the waffle machine. It’s really simple actually, a lot simpler than he made it seem. The batter is pre-made, shipped once a week and held in the small fridge they desperately need to upgrade. Pour it in, wait 30 seconds, flip, and wait thirty seconds again. He’d burned himself pulling it out, hissing, but never faltering.

It’s golden and warm, crunchy and smelling softy of vanilla. He holds it until it’s no longer hot, and then hands it to you.

“Here,” he shrugs. “Eat your first creation.”

“Really?”

“It’s already touched my hands.” He smiles innocently. “I can’t tarnish our A+ health inspection.”

Your smile is shy as you grab it. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

You bite it carefully, tearing off a piece for him to eat. He takes it from your nimble fingers, eyeing the blue nail polish that cracks on your fingertips.

“So..” Steve’s awkward. “I heard you’ve known Robin awhile?”

You break off another piece of and pop it on your mouth. “Definitely awhile.”

“She’s cool,“ He smiles fondly. “Or whatever, but yeah.”

“Yeah.” You laugh a little at his redirection.

“Also,” he adds messily. “They say you have to wear the hat but..” he leans in to whisper cheekily. “screw company policy.”

You laugh loudly, startled at his closeness.

He goes to say something, pink lips parting before he’s cut off by Robin. All he can get out his a huff a breath and dully you notice you’re staring at his lips. You think he’s noticed too.

“Y/N!” Robin yells from the ice cream stand. “Get out here and let me teach you the scooper!”

You turn, smiling in the direction of your short haired friend.

“Guess I’ve gotta quit slacking.” You murmur.

“See you soon.” He’s remorseful.

“See you soon.” You amuse a little, walking towards the swinging door. He walks too.

“Right,” He bumps into you, laughing nervously. “Sorry.”

You smile, talking over him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cringes.

The door swings behind you, letting glimpse of laughter from the bustling store through. He sighs, palm to his eyes.

Yeah, he’s pretty cute.

#steve harrington blurb #steve x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x you #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem! reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

[yanderecrazysie]

Galeophobia (Kirishima)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Galeophobia

Pairings: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mershark Kirishima, pirate reader, marking, NSFW, NON-CON, belly bulge, excessive cum

Phobia: The fear of sharks

Normally, the setting sun is something that makes you smile, its beautiful pink-and-orange hues are a feast for the eyes. Here and now? It feels as though it is taunting you as your water sloshes over the deck of your sinking ship.

How can nature be so beautiful, yet so cruel?

The storm is completely gone- there’s no sign that it ever happened. No sign, save for one wooden ship taking on water. The jolly rogers above you wave feebly in the light wind before crumbling in on themselves as even the air falls silent. You sigh wearily.

After all the danger you’d put yourself in to get rich, sinking serenely in the middle of calm waters, all of your comrades having fled on lifeboats. Leaving the captain to go down with the ship.

It’s a dumb tradition that the pirates of your country take part in, you thought dully, so why did I bother following it? You wished you weren’t quite so honorable. 

The water ripples below your lazy perch on the ship’s front railings, now reaching past the deck and slowly inching towards you. Somewhere off in the distance, you see something shimmer in the sunset’s pink-tinged water.

You squint, confused, as something bright red begins rising in the clear water right below you, on the end of your ship and the open ocean. Water breaks at the surface as the crimson object reveals itself to be spiky hair on the head of a handsome tan-skinned man with equally-red, intense eyes.

At first, you think he must be dead. After all, how else could there be someone out here in the middle of the ocean, unless they were from a ship already sunken below? But no, the man gazes at you with a lively expression, smiling brightly at you as though he’s never been so happy to see someone else. 

The next conclusion fills you with hope: there must be land nearby! Surely he had swum from an island to your ship. But how far away was it? You look in every direction and see nothing but water.

“Where do you come from?” You ask urgently, “It’s not too far is it? I’m not a strong swimmer.”

The man laughs loudly, “Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name but hold your tongue. After all, this redhead was the only thing between you and the bottom of the ocean.

He holds out his arms as though he’s ready to catch you, “Come on down, babe. I don’t bite. Much.”

He flashes you a smile and you gasp. His teeth are unnaturally sharp and triangular, nothing like a human’s. For the first time, you feel a sense of foreboding and your heart pounds in your chest. 

Your gaze falls below his bare abs under the water and you’re shocked to see that instead of bare legs, there’s gray and white smooth skin that ends in a sharp fish tail. From the shape and the earlier glance at his teeth, you surmise he’s some sort of shark merman. Not human, in any case.

“What are you?” You shriek, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively, all too aware of how close the water was to you now.

The shark-man grins, flashing those sharp teeth at you once more, “My name’s Kirishima. What’s yours, babe?”

“Stay away from me, you fish freak!” You seethe, pulling your compass from your pocket and heaving it at him as hard as you can. It bounces off his chest with a thunk but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “Wait until after I’ve drowned to eat me!”

Kirishima sighs, a soft pout to his features as he tells you, “List babe: you’re either coming down on your own or you’re going to sink.”

The reality of the situation dawns on you just as you feel water licking at your toes. You were going to be eaten by this half-shark, half-man creature. All that would be left of you would be your bones on the bottom of the ocean, alongside your trusty ship. 

Hot tears prick your eyes as you let yourself slide off the railing into the water. If my death is coming, then let it be quick, you thought sadly.

Kirishima blinks in surprise before a smile spreads across his face. This time, his lips are pulled over those vicious teeth, and you can’t help but think it’s a little cute. He reaches his hand out to brush away a few stray tears, but that just causes more to spill.

Strong arms wrap around you and you close your eyes, ready for death. It doesn’t come. Instead, Kirishima nuzzles into your neck, cooing softly into your ear as he holds you close.

He pulls you away from the sinking ship, most of which is already underwater. Your first and only ship- you feel more tears slip down your cheeks. It’s gone now, there’s no getting it back.

“Shh, it’s alright, babe.” Kirishima shushes you softly as he swims farther away, tugging you along through the water. You shiver in his grasp and he takes notice, stopping immediately to run his hands over your body, “Oh man, you’re cold all over.”

The grin that cracks across his face is mischievous and predatory at the same time, “I know how to fix that.”

Something cold and hard brushes against your butt and your heart stops all together before it starts up tenfold again. Don’t tell me he means…

Incredibly sharp teeth pierce through the skin on your neck and you let out a scream. Warm blood pools on the surface as he sucks gently before releasing with a pop. He takes a look at his handiwork- at the wound swelling on your neck- and has the audacity to look proud. 

Kirishima presses against you as he begins peeling your clothes from your skin. Something very large and very hard pokes against your thighs and, although you cannot see it, you already have an idea of what it is. Curiosity has you briefly wondering if it looks like a human’s or not.

You don’t have a chance to look down at it from the angle he’s holding you but, once he tears your pants from your body in a violent, eager motion, you quickly get to know what it feels like. It seems to be shaped the same as any human male’s dick, but it’s much larger than what you thought was possible. 

The bulbous head pushes against your unguarded pussy, pressing and pressing until pop- it forces its way inside. You expected unimaginable pain, but you’re instead overrun with pleasure.

The cock fills you out with each inch shoved deeper. It stretched your insides out and, when you look down, you see a visible bulge in your stomach. He’s crammed into you so much your little human body can barely take it.

Kirishima holds you still while he forces his shark cock deeper and deeper. The bulge in your belly is bigger than ever when he comes to a stop. Unconsciously, your hand moves and puts a hand over the bump in your stomach and you hear the man behind you moan with pleasure as you accidentally massage his cockhead.

The thrusts begin, more brutal than you could ever anticipate. Kirishima uses his arms to keep you in place while he fucks into you, tearing apart your vagina and womb easily with his monster cock. 

You writhe with pleasure, barely able to move from your positioning but trying all the same. It’s all too much- his dick is pressed up against every nerve and pleasure spot you have, each thrust hits all the right places.

Kirishima grabs your hips and bend your body a little, moving you into a position where he can fuck you even deeper and harder. It isn’t long before you come undone on his cock, twitching and spasming from the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

Your pulsating walls prove to be too much for the redhead, and he follows you shortly after. His cum floods your insides, inflating your belly a little around the bulge and filling you so completely that some escapes around his cock and into the water around you, making the water turn more milky than clear.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he rolls his hips, getting out those last few drops of cum. His giant cock finally softens and slips out, dirtying the water even more with the cum that escapes your stuffed-full womb.

“Yeah, I’m keeping you.” Kirishima says, grinning widely as he pulls you close. You don’t bother fighting it as he gives a kick of his tail and takes off swimming with you snug in his arms. 

You can feel cum still rushing out of you as he whisks you away to wherever it is he plans to keep you.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #tw noncon

[lllluffyvert]

It happens in the blink of an eye. Sunny skies are darkened by menacing storm clouds, and calm waters turn into monstrous waves that smash into the Going Merry, violently rocking the ship and sending its passengers flying.

Nami is shouting frantically, but her words are drowned out by the deafening roar of the wind and booming thunder. Lightning strikes, and in the fraction of a second that it illuminates the world around them, Zoro catches a glimpse of Nami’s horrified expression as she points towards the bow of the ship.

“-overboard!”

It’s the only word Zoro hears, and dread pools in the pit of his stomach as he realizes its meaning.

Luffy.

Without a moment’s thought for his own safety, Zoro leaps over the ship’s railing and dives into the ferocious sea. It’s bitingly cold and a shock to his senses, but he recovers quickly and swims down against the push and pull of the waves.

The water is nearly black as pitch, making it hard to orient himself. His lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen, but he can’t fucking find Luffy. He searches desperately until he’s forced to come up for air, calling out for his captain in between gasping breaths.

Lightning flashes, and there, riding atop the next wave is a familiar straw hat. A rush of adrenaline pumps in his veins and Zoro swims harder than he ever has, until he reaches his captain's prized possession, tying it securely around his arm before he takes a deep breath and dives beneath the surface.

The seconds feel like hours and his muscles are screaming, but finally he spots the bright, floral pattern of Luffy’s Hawaiian shirt. He’s sunk nearly to the ocean floor, completely unresponsive to Zoro, who grabs hold of him and pulls him up until they’ve broken the surface.

The storm rages on around them, and Zoro holds onto Luffy for all that he’s worth as they’re slammed by wave after wave and swallowed up by the inky black sea.

-

Zoro stirs and feels cool sand shift beneath him, soothing to his skin which burns under blistering rays of sun. His head pounds dully, his mouth is bone-dry, and it takes him a long second to gather his bearings before it all comes rushing back and he jumps to his feet, eyes frantically scanning the bank until he catches sight of Luffy only a few yards to his right, and relief washes over him. The feeling is short-lived, however, when he realizes that Luffy isn’t moving but lying prone and uncharacteristically silent.

Zoro stumbles towards him, panic coiling in his gut as he drops to his knees and carefully turns Luffy onto his back, gently brushing the sand from his face.

“C’mon Luf. Wake up.” He pats Luffy’s cheeks in a futile effort to arouse him, and when that doesn’t work, he slides his arm underneath his captain’s neck and lifts him, shaking his shoulders with a bit of force. “Luffy, wake up. C’mon, you’re okay.”

Luffy’s head lolls lifelessly. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and his normally bronzed, sun-kissed complexion is unnaturally pale.

Zoro cradles Luffy to his chest and wishes Chopper were here, and tries to imagine what the doctor would do in this situation. Check for injuries, probably. Find the root of the problem. Yeah, that was a good start.

Zoro looks over Luffy’s arms, his legs, pulls aside his water-logged shirt and checks his stomach and back. Minor scrapes here, a few bruises there, but nothing he wouldn’t usually bounce back from. He thinks about the possibility of an internal injury, and curses vehemently under his breath, feeling woefully inadequate.

He does the next best thing that comes to mind, scooping his captain into his arms gingerly and making towards the tree line, into the shade and away from the water and burning sun. They’d washed up on a relatively small, crescent shaped island, only a few yards of white sand away from dense, tropical foliage that was several degrees cooler than the beach. The grass under Zoro’s boots was soft from recent rain, and he carefully sets Luffy down on a large patch, taking a minute to brush the sweaty curls from his forehead and rest his palm there like he’d seen Chopper do before. It’s searing to the touch and beaded with sweat. Fuck.

Okay. Think. Zoro wracks his brain. He remembers when Nami was sick, how Vivi had her wrapped up warm, but also kept a cold cloth to her face. He removes his bandana and jogs back to the beach, dips it in the cold sea water and rings it out before folding it and placing it tenderly on Luffy’s forehead, letting his fingers trace lightly over his captain’s flushed cheek.

“I’ll be right back, Luf,” he says quietly, standing and reaching for his swords. He doesn’t have a blanket, so starting a fire sounded like the best alternative, and with a quick series of effortless swipes he has a pile of firewood big enough to last the night. Doing things survival-style is definitely in his wheelhouse, and it doesn’t take long before he has a decent fire going, and he uses some of the extra logs to build a small lean-to over where Luffy lay.

He checks on his captain, gauging his temperature again and grimacing when Luffy shivers despite being soaked with sweat. He considers their damp clothing and decides to strip their shirts to hang over the flames. His hands hesitate over Luffy’s chest, and he mumbles an awkward apology before gently removing the garment, wishing he had something to wrap around him while the shirts dried and hoping the lean-to would retain enough of the fire’s heat to suffice in the meantime.

“Hang in there, Captain,” he murmurs, and combs his fingers through Luffy’s hair.

Fire, check. Shelter, check. Next up, food and clean water. Finding both is a simple matter, and Zoro is thankful for the island's small perimeter as he returns to their little camp with a couple of rabbits and a flask of crystal clear water from a near-by trickling stream. It was a miracle that the ocean hadn’t stolen the flask of rum from where he’d had it tucked into his waistband, and a bit of a shame he had to pour it out to fill with water instead, though not before taking one last swig. He figured he had a long night ahead of him.

Their shirts are dry and warm by the time he returns, and he wraps Luffy’s around him snugly before slipping gratefully into his own. The sun has begun to dip below the horizon and a chill settles over the island. Zoro dresses the rabbits and lets them slow-roast over the crackling fire before dropping to the ground beside Luffy, suddenly exhausted.

He blinks bleary eyes and pinches himself to stay awake, at least long enough to make sure Luffy gets something to eat. He watches the sparks from the fire until the rabbits are cooked through, removes them from the spit and tears the tender meat into bite sized pieces. Done with that, he gently pulls Luffy into his lap, props his head on his shoulder and tries to feed him some of the rabbit, concern growing sharply when Luffy’s nose scrunches in revulsion and he turns his head away, choosing instead to bury his face in Zoro’s chest.

It was absolutely unheard of for Luffy, of all people, to reject food, and so to see him like this now rang alarm bells in Zoro’s head. He feels an oncoming migraine.

“You gotta eat something, Luf,” he pleads. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“‘M cold.”

It’s the first thing Luffy has said since they washed up on the island, and Zoro’s heart aches at how pitiful the barely whispered words sound from his usually loud and chipper captain. He sets the food down, leans back against the wood frame of the makeshift shelter and wraps his arms around Luffy, holding him close and doing his best to warm him. Luffy’s labored breathing eases some, and he melts into the embrace, a softly whispered “Zoro” spilling from his lips before he passes out.

Zoro props his chin atop his captain’s soft, dark curls, closes his heavy eyes and falls asleep.

-

Zoro wakes to the sound of footsteps and instinctively reaches for his sword, remembers Luffy in his lap and curls around him protectively with Wado Ichimonji pointed menacingly in the direction of whoever was rapidly approaching their camp.

“Found you!” Chopper bursts from the bushes and excitedly bounds over to them with a huge grin, until his eyes fall to Luffy, unconscious and sweaty in the crook of Zoro’s arm, and his expression is stricken. “W–what happened to Luffy?!”

Zoro had dropped his sword the moment Chopper hopped into view, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the doctor. “I don’t know,” he says. He picks up the sword, sheathes it, and stands, cradles Luffy to his chest and looks Chopper square in the face. “But I know you can fix it.”

His words are spoken with complete confidence. Chopper nods solemnly and Zoro follows the doctor back to the Going Merry.

The other members of the Straw Hats meet them on the beach, and they instantly crowd around Zoro and Luffy, each of them exclaiming the same questions simultaneously.

“What happened to Luffy?!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I don’t know,” Zoro repeats, “And I’m fine.” He walks past them in quick strides to keep up with Chopper, pulling Luffy ever closer to his chest, suddenly loath to let him go as he boards the ship. In the medical bay, he carefully lays his captain on the bed, takes a step back, and feels distinctively colder.

Chopper bustles around him, hastily gathering various glass bottles and a mixing bowl before shooing Zoro from the room.

“I do my best work alone,” he says apologetically, and closes the door in Zoro’s face.

Zoro sighs, and then stiffens as the weight of the other crew member’s gazes hits him. He turns and finds Nami, Sanji, and Usopp staring at him expectantly.

He fills them in, omitting some unnecessary details.

“He didn’t want to eat?” Nami anxiously bites her nails and looks to the med-bay door.

“Let’s not worry until Chopper says to worry, Nami,” comforts Sanji.

As much as Zoro hates to agree with the cook, he has a point. Chopper was damn good at his job, and Zoro had total faith in his abilities. With this in mind, he looks to Sanji and says:

“I’m fucking starving.”

-

It’s a few hours before Chopper clops into the kitchen, looking tired but happy. Zoro’s shoulders sag as any concerns are alleviated.

“He’s sleeping now,” says the doctor, and he smiles at Zoro. “Good job keeping his temperature stable.”

Feeling strangely embarrassed, Zoro simply nods in reply.

“So,” Usopp prompts, “What was it?”

“Poison,” Chopper says, “From a species of native octopus.” He shakes his head, suddenly serious. “Another two days could’ve been fatal.”

“But he’s fine?” Nami asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” Chopper assures them. He turns to Sanji and grins. “And he’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Aye aye, a feast for le Capitaine.” Sanji lights a cigarette, rolls up his sleeves and flashily spins a gleaming butcher’s knife on the tip of his finger. “Leave it to me.”

Zoro debates asking Chopper to let him see Luffy, but decides to remain silent. Instead, he takes another sip of rum and resigns himself to waiting.

-

His resolve only lasts a few hours. It’s close to midnight when he stalks silently past his sleeping crewmates and steps into the med-bay, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He’d been feeling restless, uncomfortable in his hammock and Luffy the only thing on his mind.

He pulls a chair up in front of the bed and sits, watching his captain’s chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. He’s even snoring, and Zoro admires his peaceful expression, his parted lips and rosy cheeks framed by long, dark eyelashes. He picks up Luffy’s hand and kisses each one of his fingers reverently, offering a silent, thankful prayer to the gods for Chopper and his unmatched medical skills.

Luffy suddenly stirs, turning his head towards Zoro, who immediately goes still.

“Zoro,” Luffy’s eyes light up at the sight of his first mate, and his sleepy smile is one of the prettiest sights Zoro thinks he’s ever seen.

“Go back to sleep, Luf,” he says softly, his voice heavy with affection. He brazenly kisses the top of Luffy’s hand, and his captain giggles quietly, a sound Zoro could happily listen to for the rest of his days.

“Okay,” Luffy agrees, and then he’s scooting over and lifting the blanket invitingly, looking up at Zoro with those big, brown eyes, and who is he to deny his captain?

“You’re supposed to be getting some rest,” Zoro says even as he slides into the bed, pulling Luffy close and wrapping his arms around him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

“I am,” Luffy replies, warm breath puffing against Zoro’s chin and his eyes twinkling even in the dark. “I sleep better when you’re around.”

He says it so easily, so honestly, and Zoro can’t help himself. He closes the short distance between them and captures Luffy’s lips in a tender kiss.

“I thought I needed rest,” Luffy says breathlessly when Zoro finally pulls back for air. He’s smiling though, and his eyes are filled with mirth. Zoro just hums in reply, and peppers Luffy’s cheeks and nose with feather-light kisses, reveling in his captain’s muffled, giddy laughter and wondering what other noises he could draw from him. A dangerous thought, considering his current position; Luffy flush against him, warm and pliant under his touch. He almost groans, burying his face in his captain’s soft curls and breathing in the sea-salt scent of him.

“Zoro.” The way Luffy whispers his name is almost too much for him to bear. “Thank you for saving me.”

“That was Chopper,” Zoro replies against Luffy’s hair. Luffy pushes him back slightly and looks him square in the face.

“It was you, too,” he says seriously. “You jumped in for me.”

“Always,” Zoro says, meaning it with every fiber of his being. His fingers trace the smooth curve of Luffy’s cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and leaning in to kiss the flushed skin there.

The simplicity of his reply has Luffy smiling again, and this time it’s he who kisses Zoro, a little peck at the corner of his lips. The sweet gesture effectively unravels Zoro’s resolve, breaking him down to the point where words are pointless and only actions have meaning.

His hands are gentle only ever for his captain, his fingers lightly caressing the exposed skin of Luffy’s chest and his lips against his neck, kissing a line up to his ear and nibbling at the lobe. Simmering embers in the pit of his stomach burn hotter when Luffy responds to his touch with a contented sigh and he cranes his neck, revealing more skin for Zoro to appreciate, which he does with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Luffy,” Zoro murmurs his captain’s name reverently, his hands moving to cup Luffy’s cheeks and he kisses him fervently, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting down lightly, tonguing at the shallow puncture marks his teeth leave on the velvety skin there. Luffy makes another small noise that Zoro swallows up and he wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck, returning the kiss, his eyes screwed shut and his nose scrunched adorably.

Zoro can’t get enough. He slows their tempo, his mouth slotting against Luffy’s deliberately, taking his time to taste and smell and touch. His thumbs swipe over Luffy’s flushed skin and he pulls back to gaze at him fondly, feeling rather smug that the dazed expression on his captain’s face was his doing.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he says, each word punctuated by a quick, affectionate kiss to Luffy’s face, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, licking the shell suggestively. “And continue this later.”

Luffy shivers and nods, perking up at the mention of food and practically bouncing out of the bed with a toothy smile, sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes Zoro’s hand in his own. He skips cheerfully to the kitchen, humming a little ditty and dragging Zoro along with him. Zoro watches the way his captain’s smile brightens at the sight of the other Straw Hats, who’ve jumped from their beds and come running at the sound of his song, and he thinks he would gladly follow Luffy to the ends of the earth.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #zolu #nami #Usopp #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #guys I live and breathe for them #what a first mate wouldn’t do for his captain #my fic

[bi-writes]

the space between us | the mandalorian

sometimes i just wish that when you go, you will finally ask me to come with you.

type: one-shot word count: 13.4k (cant help myself) pairing: the mandalorian x afab!fem!princess!reader warnings: mature language and content, mature written sexual content (read at your own discretion), 🔞⚠️ summary: in four acts, a senator's daughter finds her true standing as her mandalorian ally discovers what is truly important, above all else. complete masterlist

act i: the introduction

It was raining. The clouds were dark and hovered over heavily, and the grounds of the landing bay were wet and slippery.

You opted for much more practical clothing today. Dark trousers tucked into your boots, a blade fitted into the sides of both. A warm long sleeve, of soft material, keeping you warm from the elements, with your waist defined by a corseted belt of dark leather. Your hair was up and out of your face, and you wore no jewelry. You blended well with the crew, but they recognized you easily, bowing out of your way as you admired the ships docked.

You pulled your hood up as you stood back a bit to look at a ship you didn’t recognize. It was an older model, archived as far as you knew, but here it sat in all its pre-Empire glory in your landing bay. You watched as a few crewmembers patched up a hole on the side of it, another few tightening loose bolts along one of the engines. The ramp was down, giving you a glimpse of the inside, and you made your way up slowly, your eyebrows raising as you smoothed a hand over the panel by a chamber in the back. A carbonite chamber. Your fingers grazed over a few buttons, and then you left to find another panel, curiously pressing a few switches there. A hiss sounded behind you, and you turned to see a closet, an arsenal, of weapons on display. You stepped closer, admiring them. A few different blaster models, detonators of many sizes. You had fond memories of training with many of them.

You reached for one of the vibroblades. It was crafted carefully, curved from the short handle into a deadly point, with a few inches of serration along the sharp edge. You lifted it off of its holder, twirling the blade between your fingers with ease, letting the weight of it grow comfortable in your hand.

You jumped with surprise when the cabinet doors suddenly swished closed. You turned around quickly, twisting the blade in your hand until the handle was firmly in your grasp. You made a move, swiping over your left, but your forearm was blocked easily. You made another move, swiping at them with your free hand to get your arm loose before using your heel to kick their knee in, forcing them onto their knees.

A modulated grunt of surprise came, but just as quick as you won an advantage, you lost it. Yanking your still out-stretched arm, you were flipped over their armored shoulder, bruising your side before you were slammed onto your back on the floor of the ship. You let out a sigh of discomfort, dropping the blade and putting your arms in front of your face.

“I yield!” You said, breathless. “Stars—” You groaned a bit as your side throbbed. “I yield…”

You dropped your arms, blinking up until you got a better look at the figure kneeling over you. Your eyes were focused on a cuirass of strong steel, colored a curious shade of red. Your eyes raised to meet a helmet made of the same material but in shining silver, a dark visor trained right on you, tilted to the side in an unamused manner. You did not need to see their face to know they were not happy at all finding you here, let alone being swung at with a sharp blade.

“Oh—” You let out a soft breath, relaxing back against the floor. Your side still throbbed dully. “Is this…this is your ship, isn’t it?”

You felt warm with embarrassment, feeling guilty for snooping in his clearly very private space. You were met with silence, but the silence was affirmative. This was indeed his ship, and you were definitely invading his privacy.

You sat up, level with him as he remained on his knee to glare at you up close. You gave him an apologetic smile, trying to ease the tension in the air. You had not meant to meddle in his things; and your reaction was pure instinct, nothing more.

He continued to remain silent. You apologized softly for intruding, holding out your hand and giving him your name to introduce yourself. He said nothing still, and you dropped your hand when you realized this armored man was going to say nothing of value, maybe nothing at all. You let your eyes run over his impressive armor, the collection of weapons that he practically dripped with, and the iconic shape of his helmet. You tilted your head yourself, gazing at him curiously.

“A Mandalorian,” you concluded with a soft voice. “One of the greatest warriors in the galaxy, then.” You raised a brow, looking him up and down a bit. “I don’t know. You fell on your ass pretty easily.”

Silence again. Then he stood, looming over you. He held out his hand for you to take, and you did, wrapping your hand in his and trying not to think about how easily he was able to lift you off the floor. You were level with him now, but it didn’t make him any less intimidating.

“Well,” he quipped. “It wasn’t me who yielded.”

You laughed, smiling wide as you felt the air relax immediately. You hummed in agreement, finally letting go of his hand as you bent to pick up the blade and hand it to him.

“I guess I won’t argue there,” you sighed, your smile staying as you looked around, away from him. “I…I’m sorry for snooping. Your ship is just…I’ve never seen a pre-Empire model before. I was…curious.” You shook your head, “I-I mean it’s old and…it’s definitely seen better days—” He tilted his head to the side in warning, “—b-but it’s such a classic…geez, I’d love to ask you about the—”

“I’m on a tight schedule,” he interrupted you. You pursed your lips, laughing nervously as you nodded in understanding.

“Uh…right,” you shook your head, “yeah, I…you’re super busy. I’ll get out of your way. I’m sorry.” You smoothed your sweaty palms along the front of your pants, meeting the visor again and trying to give him your kindest smile. “It was nice to meet you, Mandalorian. Safe travels.” You reached over and put your hand against his elbow, squeezing the unarmored fabric there. He was warm, you noticed. The Mandalorian dropped his gaze to where your hand laid, fingers curled so gently there. No one ever touched him, not like this; he had only really ever felt hands that wanted to hurt him, choke him, even kill him sometimes. But as quickly as you touched him, your hands were back at your sides, and you were walking away from him.

You made your way out of the ship, careful not to slip on the wet durasteel of the ramp. You waved down the nearest crewmember, motioning to the Mandalorian’s ship.

“Refuel his ship and send him on his way. No need to charge for repairs,” you told him. You did feel bad for invading his space; the least you could do was try not to get on his bad side, even if he was just passing by your planet. You hoped it would smooth over any ill impressions and instead replace it with a sense of hospitality and kindness.

“But—”

You gave the crewmember an amused look, daring him to argue with you. He nodded his head, blushing as he mumbled a gentle apology. You saw the Mandalorian staring at you from the top of the ramp, and you smiled at him again, giving him a little salute. He watched as you pulled your hood up and walked down the length of the landing bay and back towards the palace; he noticed immediately how every crewmember bowed as you passed, acknowledging you even if they were occupied with busywork. He swallowed hard, tilting his head curiously, picking up the scope in his belt and zeroing in on your figure in the distance. There, on your left hand, was a golden ring he had missed, stamped with the signet of your house, the only jewelry you were wearing.

Gods…who the hell had he just met?

act ii: the duel

“Yield! Yield!”

You released the royal guard with a huff, pushing your hair back as you stood up from your position over him. You offered him your hand, and he took it, getting up with difficulty as he grunted with exhaustion. He was bruised, you could tell, holding his side as he leaned against the post next to him in the yard. Your eyes roamed around the yard, watching as the other guards in training had stopped their sparring to watch you. When you asked for another challenger, you were met with silence.

“No one wants to challenge you, Your Highness,” a familiar voice laughed behind you. You turned around, seeing the Senator’s advisor walking into the yard with a recognizable bounty hunter trailing slowly behind him. “The embarrassment alone is enough to make any man think twice.”

“There is honor in being bested in combat,” you replied simply. You turned to look at the guards around you, acknowledging them with nods. “You should never be embarrassed by it. There is no shame. It is an opportunity to learn. To fight better.”

You took a deep breath, looking over at your new company. You smiled at the Mandalorian, a mischievous glint in your eye. He was looking exceptionally pretty today, perhaps he had polished his armor. He leaned against a post in the yard, his arms crossed in front of him as he watched curiously. Your eyes fell over the broadness of his shoulders to the cinch of his belt around his waist, then down to the ammunition around the calf of his boot and back up again. The air around him even seemed to be filled with a bit of smoke and even a little fire. He seemed content here, in the yard filled with the sounds of blaster fire and grunts of scuffles. He belonged, and his posture was one of ease and familiarity.

Stars—the Mandalorian was indeed pretty.

“Hello, Mandalorian,” you greeted him softly. You stood a bit straighter, eyes never leaving where you hoped his were. You liked the staring contest. “It’s been some time.”

He nodded at you, but he said nothing. You continued to stand in the sparring circle, lifting up the staff you had dropped onto the ground some time ago. You twirled it in your hand for a moment, looking him up and down again, this time not hiding the way your eyes roamed him. You wanted him to know you were sizing him up, looking at him; you were certain though, that a man of his skill had already noticed you do it the first time.

“I challenge you,” you offered. “First to yield wins.”

“Your Highness, no,” the royal advisor stopped you. He was about to step further into the yard, but the muddy ground would have dirtied the velvet robes he wore. He laughed nervously, shaking his head. “The Mandalorian is here on official business, a guest of the court—”

The Mandalorian just walked past him, hitting the advisor with his arm as he passed. You smiled knowingly, watching as the Mandalorian stepped into the circle with no hesitation. You liked him even more like this, preparing to spar, preparing to show off what he knew best, the thing about him that came as natural as breathing.

The Mandalorian had warfare in his blood; he slept with a blaster strapped to his thigh, a blade on his person. He had been in this position many times, and it was his consistent winning that had gotten him this far. In some way, it pleased him deeply that he would get to show you just how he earned his reputation. He wanted to show off. He wanted to show off to you.

You could only imagine how Mandalorians spent their days. You did not know much about their culture, but it was no secret that they did nothing but polish their weapons and spar until they could spar no longer. They were fighters from the inside-out, until their second nature was refined combat and a mastery of any weapon they could get their hands on. They gained honor and respect through trials of difficulty and danger, and they took their principle to the grave. Their Creed was an invisible hand that guided them through their life, steering them onto paths of righteousness, noble deeds, and at the end, hopefully, a warrior’s death.

With this knowledge, you knew it would be practically un-Mandalorian to turn down your challenge. You knew he was probably itching under that armor to fall back into the familiar routine of daily sparring, challenging his peers until he heard that sweet sound of their yield, of their plea for him to stop, to know that he had won.

You were in need of a true adversary; he was in need of…perhaps a certain release.

The royal guards who were just watching nearby suddenly showed interest. They seemed to abandon whatever they had been doing to watch as you and the Mandalorian stood across from each other in the circle, marked by a ring of misshapen stones. More guards started to gather around; some of them crowded around the circle, others were perched up along the walls of the palace and watching from the ledges above and around you.

“First to be forced out of the circle or to yield loses,” you said to him. “The only rule.”

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head to the side, standing with his feet spread, his arms at his sides as his hands came in and out of fists. He seemed to gesture to the array of weapons he had strapped to his person—detonators, perhaps a hidden blade in his belt or his boot, the blaster on his hip.

You laughed a bit, “I wouldn’t worry about that.” You licked your dry lips, moving the staff you held from one hand to the other, rolling out your neck. “Would you like to take the offensive?”

The Mandalorian stayed still now, the only movement being the cape draped behind him blowing in the slight breeze. He nodded once in agreement.

You began to walk around the perimeter of the circle. The Mandalorian copied your movement, his visor trained on you as you both began to move. You started to walk towards him, passing by him as your gaze never left his. You almost made it past him, but then you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and yank you backwards. You used the momentum of him pulling you backwards to twirl under his arm, breaking free of his grip. Behind him, you lifted your leg and kicked at his back hard, throwing him forward.

The crowd let out a few gasps and hollers as the Mandalorian stumbled back to his feet, turning to face you. There was a hint of a smile on your face, amusement at his underestimation of your skill. Mandalorians were not the only warriors in the galaxy, didn’t he know that?

You raised a brow with a huff of breath as he came at you again. He threw a fist that you blocked, and when his other arm came under to try and undercut you, you managed to barely knock it to the side after dropping your staff. He was fast for being so much larger than you, and you hadn’t anticipated the quick advances. You struggled for a bit to keep his hands away from you, but eventually your grip loosened enough for him to draw his elbow back and shove you backwards. You caught your footing just in time to catch another throw of his fist. This time, he expected your hold on him. He went for your legs, throwing you off balance and onto your back. He waited, not coming at you again, and it gave you time to grab your staff and knock him over the head with it, forcing him back a few steps so you could scramble to your feet again.

He hesitated. Is it because I’m a girl?

“You’re going soft on me, Mandalorian,” you panted, grabbing another staff out of a bystander’s hand and tossing it at him. He caught it easily. His beskar gleamed, his chest heaving as he realized he had a true challenger and not just an apprentice. “It’s insulting.”

Gods, he looks so good. Full of fire. This is where he feels the most himself, in a ring of few words and pure instinct.

He shook his head angrily before coming at you. He swiped at you with the staff, and you dodged. Left, right, left, and then you caught his arm, swinging under it and twisting it, forcing him onto his knees as you slid with ease until he dropped the staff. He caught the staff with his other hand, using it to knock you backwards, and you let out a growl as you fell to the floor. As he was about to bring the staff down on you again, you rolled out of the way, lifting your foot and kicking at the back of his thigh. His staff met the dirt ground as he lost his balance, and you started to crawl to get back to your feet.

You let out a surprised noise as you heard the swish of some release, a cord wrapping around your ankle and yanking you backwards. As you slid, you flipped onto your back as you watched the Mandalorian reeling you in. You grabbed the cord and yanked, but it did nothing as you neared him fast.

Geez, how many surprises does he have under all that armor?

You ducked under his waiting arm, keeping the momentum and yanking his body with you as you went under his legs. You twisted in your moment of advantage, swiping a leg under his head and forcing him up until both of your thighs could close around the unarmored thickness of his neck, squeezing tight. You tried hard to secure him, but with the cord still around your foot, he retracted it again, forcing your leg off his neck. You rolled off of him with a grunt, but the Mandalorian was too fast. He wrapped both arms around your neck, dragging you back and on top of him as he locked you in easily, threatening to choke you.

“Yield,” his modulated voice growled out. “Yield!”

You were never good at yielding. You abhorred losing, and you abhorred it even more in combat.

And there is some horrid, bubbly nagging inside of me that wants to impress him; and I won’t if I lose.

“Never,” you coughed, using the heel of your palm to knock him upside the helmet and then braced down your elbow against his unarmored side. He let go of you just enough for you to roll off of him, swiping the blade you saw poking out from his boot and sticking it against the side of his neck. If you were able to see his neck, you would have seen the slight cut you had nicked into his skin with the tip of the knife. You panted as you laid there beside him, your eyes lit with vigor and your insides hot with adrenaline, with excitement, with wonder. “Yield.”

The Mandalorian panted just as hard, relaxing against the ground as you both laid there and tried to take deep breaths. You both stared at each other, breathing in the warm air and the searing feeling coursing through your veins. There was nothing like a midday spar to get you right onto your toes, right into that sweet spot of amusement and delight; but you knew this feeling was not just the result of sparring with an opponent like a Mandalorian.

No, that can’t be it. He is not just a silent hunter, a curious visitor—I find his eyes on me often, and he finds mine on him.

You smiled a bit at his silence, and he nodded once. The crowd around you began to cheer, whooping and hollering as you slowly got up to sit. The Mandalorian was up before you, standing as he rolled out his shoulders. He offered you his hand, which you took gratefully. You stood slowly, twirling the familiar blade before handing it back to him. It was the same blade you had stolen from his ship when you first met. You smiled wide, sweat glistening across your chest as you moved your clothes back into place.

Does he know that I look for him when I find out he is here?

“You are a worthy opponent,” you said softly as he took the blade back from you. “You’ll have to teach me some of those moves, Mandalorian.”

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” He asked, and you tilted your head to the side, shrugging a bit. You liked the mystery between you. It made each new encounter with him exciting.

Does he know I wait for him when I find out he goes?

“All in due time,” you said, patting him on the chest gently. “I think you have some appointments that I’ve made you rudely late for,” you laughed as the advisor tried to move through the crowd of guards, calling for the Mandalorian to hurry back. “Until we meet again.” You touched his helmet this time, rubbing a thumb along the edge of it before going to grab a drink of water. Somehow, the touch felt even more intimate than the first time you touched him, with your fingers against his elbow, feeling his warmth. You had touched his beskar, caressed it even, and he found his helmet following your finger eagerly, even though he could not feel it. A few of the royal guards patted your shoulders as you walked by, bowing their heads in respect and complimenting your skill. You gave them polite smiles as you passed, shaking some of their hands before disappearing behind a corner.

The Mandalorian could not put a reason to why he felt so warm still, so intense. He didn’t know if it was your intelligence or your quick wit. Maybe it was the glow of your smile or the shine of your eyes or the unique beauty of your features. Perhaps it was the way you held a weapon, how your nimble fingers fought with ease and your body moved with a fluidity and grace in the sparring ring that had his mouth watering with admiration and curiosity and utter heat; the way you anticipated offensive moves and responded with bite when you were knocked down truly had his head on a swivel.

The Mandalorian was watching you, his eyes unable to leave until you had gone from his sight. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake the feeling in his chest. The feeling did not leave him.

It never would again.

act iii: a gambler’s debt

The hallways of the palace were quiet. Black drapes fluttered with the winter breeze, and candle’s wax dripped onto the floor, illuminating the walls in warm yellows and low lights. The solemn that had fallen over the court was not lost on the Mandalorian as he made his way from the landing bay into the yard. Royal guards stood wearing black uniforms, flags flying low as even the guards themselves couldn’t find words to instill conversation.

The guards paid the Mandalorian no mind as he made his way through the yard and the halls with ease. In fact, some of them even gave him cold stares and odd glances. They had been expecting him for a few days now; in their eyes, he was late, much too late. It was not a secret that the Mandalorian was welcome company for their princess, and many in the court had come to appreciate his visits. He had been present for many hardships at court, and he had handled conflict with the ease and control of a true Mandalorian; often times at the aid of the princess the guards adored so much.

But the Mandalorian had been gone a long time; everyone had noticed.

He found you sitting in the grass in the royal gardens. You were leaning over the edge of the trickling fountain there, staring into the flowing waters in silence. There were new adornments on you; jewelry that you surely hadn’t placed on yourself. He knew of your discomfort wearing such things. You complained often that royal jewels were heavy and impractical, and that they only suited special occasions, but you never wore them then either. The most eye-catching piece was the gold headband holding back your hair, the middle of it coming to a point at your forehead with the signet of your house pressed into the metal.

A crown. He had never seen you wear a crown.

Your eyes raised, and you saw him standing there between two large stone pillars of the palace. You lifted your head up, your eyes watering as soon as you saw him. All the feelings of resentment and betrayal and anger began to disappear just at the sight of him. You stood up from where you were sitting, moving towards him. His beskar was your magnet, and your feet were not pulling you fast enough to him. He could see by the way you were hurrying towards him that he needed to brace himself. He was glad he did; as soon as he was in reach, your arms flung around his neck, and you were hugging him tight, your face buried into the space between the helmet and his shoulder.

You were relieved to see him. The past few days had been nothing but solemnity and quiet and fear, and just seeing him calmed the feelings that had been overwhelming you. The Mandalorian made you feel so secure and so safe; he was not around as often as you would have liked, but he always seemed to appear when you needed him the most.

“Din,” you let out softly, your voice breaking. He had not heard his name since he had last visited, and he put one hand on the back of your head to keep you close, to keep his name a whisper against him. You planted a soft kiss on the fabric there, nuzzling your face into him as much as you could. “Din…I-I missed you…”

He smells so good. He smells familiar. He smells like home.

The Mandalorian let his other hand smooth down your back, holding you close to him by the waist. When he had heard of the Senator’s death, a successful assassination on your father and an unsuccessful attempt against you, he never even finished the job. He had tucked the fob he carried into the back of his belt and switched the coordinates on his ship without hesitating.

He had left you a princess. He had returned to a queen.

You lifted your head from his shoulder, your eyes wet and big and sad. You seemed heavier, your muscles tense and your shoulders tight as you felt a deep burden against them. The pressure and the weight felt a little lighter in his arms, but something still held onto your shoulders, something still was biting at your heels.

“What happened?” The Mandalorian asked. He had been itching to know. He had not listened to the transmission sent to him by your advisor long enough to investigate. Between the crackled admission of the Senator—killed and the princess—found—still alive, the Mandalorian had already started the jump back to the Core Worlds to get to you. He had burned through most of his fuel, and he nearly got arrested for flying too close to commercial ships, but he didn’t let anything slow him down. He knew he would not be able to rest until he saw your face. He needed to see for himself that the attempt was really all it had been—an attempt.

It had indeed been an attempt. You had a fading bruise against your jaw and a healing cut above your brow, but you were as beautiful as you had always been, and you were still breathing.

You shook your head, “we knew…we knew we were riling up the people at court,” you admitted. “We got a proposal for excavations along the southern hemisphere, and it was…” You swallowed hard, “it was so much money, Din. More than my father and I have ever seen in many generations. It would make us…we would be a royal force.” You closed your eyes, sighing deeply when the Mandalorian cupped your face with one gloved hand, encouraging you to continue with soft touches. “B-But I begged my father not to. The damage it would cause…the sickness it would spread…I begged him to say no. And…and he did.”

The Mandalorian didn’t need to hear more. Your father had refused a wealth that would make this court rich, hundreds of times richer than it stood now, and you never wavered. No amount of credits or wealth or reputation would make you give up your people, not for anything, and in that moment of true nobility and goodness, your father had seen in you what he had yet to see in any sovereign before him, even in himself. Bleeding the planet dry of its only resources for a lick of credits was not the way to earn respect, to appreciate the place you came from, to live and not just survive. The vultures that resided in your court did not have those burdens on their shoulders. They only had to think of themselves.

None of them carried the selflessness that was required of people like you. If you made the wrong decision, you might not even have a planet to reign over. It would be foolish to look the other way, to let it happen willingly. But no matter how noble the decision may have been, there were people that would lose much because of it. The itch of fame, of power, of money, it sickened people to their cores—it drove them to do unspeakable, inhumane things. Vengeance never truly brought the peace that one sought, but perhaps they could make others wallow in their same misery.

Perhaps they could make a Senator pay for listening to the cry of his daughter’s wishes.

It had come suddenly. Your father had asked you to his study, and you had only spoken a few words between each other when the room was broken into. There were five of them, but there was only one of you. You had fought honorably, but when you had seen your father with his head lulled to the side, the rage had blinded you. For all of your training and your skill, you had never fought with the breath of death against your neck. You were grateful that its presence didn’t slow you down or cloud your instinct—no, you let it fuel you, guide you, consume you until you could hold your father’s head in your lap and pray he would open his eyes.

What remained was only one of you.

“They failed,” you whispered shakily, your eyes running over the Mandalorian’s visor. There was an ire in your eyes, a look of pure indignation and determination that he had never seen before. Normally, you were alight with a sweetness and a playfulness and an innocence that followed you like a shadow. It was gone, all gone. You had not died, but they had killed something in you that the Mandalorian already missed desperately. “They may have killed my father—” You sucked in a deep breath, “but they did not kill me. They failed—” You put your hand over his on your face, soft tears coming down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, kissing the palm of his hand.

The Mandalorian let his hand fall a bit, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he sighed deeply. He leaned closer, the metal just brushing against your skin. If the Mandalorian had been a gambling man, he would bet that if he lifted his helmet just enough, you would let him kiss you. You would let him press his fingers under your chin and draw your face even closer, perhaps even let him lick into your mouth and drown you in the taste of him. If he was a gambling man, he would give and give and give, spend and spend and spend, until he was giving what he didn’t have and spending what he didn’t carry until he was consumed in you and only you.

The Mandalorian was not a gambling man. But he did have just a little to give.

“I will not let them come near you again,” he said lowly. It came out modulated and cracked, but the vocoder did not disguise the anger and the possessiveness in his voice. “They will fail every time.”

If it was any other day, you would argue with him. You were not a damsel in distress, and you never had been. You had held a weapon in your hands since you were strong enough to carry one. There was not a soul you trusted more than your own in combat. There was no need for a protector, for a guard of any kind, because they would never be as quick as you could be. But now, at this moment, this was what you needed to hear.

You needed to hear that there was another being in the galaxy that had your back. The Mandalorian was neither a diplomat nor an advisor. He did not have ulterior motives, he did not care of fame or fortune, he did not lie to you. He was a warrior of the highest esteem, led only by a Creed stressing honor and family and the hardships that shape the most avid fighters, and he was motivated to aid you by nothing more than the way he felt about you.

And stars, what I feel for her…

The unspoken air, the timid area of space that still existed between you and the Mandalorian—it was impossible to ignore yet impossible to acknowledge. The soft kisses you left on his person and the way his hands touched you had only been the first breaks in your distance. It was as if you and the Mandalorian had been dancing around your feelings before one day giving into the small desires that guided your hands. Often, you found yourself kissing his hands, the beskar of his pauldron and the side of his helmet. Other times, his hands would slide over the curve of your back, wrap around your waist, tug your relaxing figure right into his lap. Sometimes, you fell asleep with the Mandalorian at your back and his voice in your ear, just like the time when he was telling you his name for the first time as you sat under the stars.

“Thank you,” you said softly after a moment. You stood up on your toes, closing your eyes as you touched your forehead to his. There was a small clink as the gold of your headpiece touched the beskar, and the Mandalorian closed his eyes as he relished in the sweet kiss you offered him. He wondered, just for a moment, how wonderful you would look with a headpiece of similar fashion, not in gold—but perhaps in the steel that he wore all too well.

He was giving already. He was giving too much, spending all he had, and as he drank in the sight of you and the feeling of you, he realized he was losing when it came to you. At the thought of your life in danger, he had forgotten all sense and found himself not being able to think clearly until you were in his line of sight. All those years of training and discipline and restraint were obsolete when it came to you; you were the one in control, and he was deep in his own crumbling debt as he drew you in as close as possible, until your body was flush against his. His palms pressed against your back, memorizing the feeling of you drawing breath and the warmth of you and the way you molded into him despite the layers between you.

Alive, she’s so alive.

The Mandalorian had no way of repaying the debt he was finding himself in; but the reward was all too sweet.

act iv: the redeemer (18+)

You leaned forward, grunting as the handmaid behind you pulled tightly on the laces of your dress. You closed your eyes as she kept tightening, despite the pained look on your face, fastening the back of your garment until the waist of it was secure. You stood up straight again, letting out a deep breath and smoothing down the fabric at the front of the dress. It really was a beautiful piece. Your father had kept it in a safe place in his closet; the sentiment of it helped make the discomfort of wearing it worth it.

It had been your mother’s dress. It was a bright shade of red made of silky, heavy draped fabric that swept low to reveal just enough cleavage and then tightening around the waist before falling in a flattering, flowing skirt to the floor. The fabric was cut along one leg, enough so that the glittering silver of your shoes could show. They were elegant, with straps that wrapped around your leg, so long the ties disappeared under the high hem of your dress.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as the woman worked on your hair, lifting it up and off your face. You wore no jewels, and now she was painting along your eyes. Swirls of silver that curled over your face beautifully, accentuating the curve of your eyes and the color of them. She had brought your hair out of your face; but oddly, she left your hair bare of any decoration.

You stood when she finished, about to leave, but she assured you that you were not finished yet. She went towards a side table in your bedroom, picking up a small cloth that laid there that you hadn’t noticed until now. She came close again, putting the cloth down and untying it. In the middle of the fabric laid a beautiful brooch in the shape of an animal and a headpiece, both made of a spectacular silver metal that shined like a star, glittering as if it was moonlight. Your mouth gaped open a bit as you reached over and touched the pieces.

“Stars, I’ve…I’ve never seen these pieces before,” you breathed, picking up the brooch. “They’re…goodness, they’re so beautiful. Has this always been in our collection?”

“No, Your Majesty,” the handmaid blushed a bit. “T-These were a gift. F-From the Mandalorian.”

Your head snapped up to her, and you frowned a bit. Just the thought of him had your heart racing, and you found yourself flooded with a plethora of emotions at the sound of his title. Longing, need, desire, tenderness, comfort.

“W-What?” You asked. “W-What do you mean? He’s here?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. He asked if you could wear these tonight, h-he said it was very important,” she told you. She seemed nervous, her eyes deep in thought as if she was trying to remember exactly what he had told her. “B-But he didn’t want to see you until…you were ready. Oh—! And…he…he also wanted to give you…this—” She held out timidly a recognizable vibroblade, the same one you had used a few times against him. You took the blade from her, moving it over in your hand for a moment before swallowing hard.

You were an educated royal. You had studied many cultures and learned the customs of many people. Accepting this gift in particular was a statement for a Mandalorian. You did not hesitate as you hiked up your dress and fastened the blade into your leather holster.

You let out a little laugh, swallowing back light tears, standing beside her as she helped you put the finishing pieces on. She took a loose drape of fabric and curved it over your waist, pinning it with the brooch. It was strong, holding the heavy fabric easily with no indication of moving. You sat again for her to fit the headpiece on. You noticed the headpiece was a bit different than the one you normally wore. There were two points along the forehead, with two different signets—one of your house, and the other of the same shape of the animal that was pinned to your waist. You smoothed a finger over the two symbols before letting her fit it into your hair and secure it.

You looked in the mirror, letting out a shaky breath. The pieces were the perfect touches. You sparkled in them, and you couldn’t help but realize how much more you preferred yourself in silver rather than gold. The silver was so pretty, glistening, and you had no idea how you were going to thank the Mandalorian for making you feel so beautiful.

You had no idea what you were going to say to him at all.

The handmaid bid you goodnight and left the room, and you looked down at your hand at the new ring that sat there now that you were alone. Your father’s ring, a piece handed down through generations of others in your place, and now it was on your finger. You ran your thumb over it before standing, making your way out into the hallway.

The palace was decorated for the celebration. The colors of your house were shades of red, like your dress, and it was decorated to match. Red flowers hung along the walls, fluorescent plants littering along them to light up the hallways. There were red candles lit everywhere, and there was upbeat music playing, coming from the grand hall. You smiled at the guards you passed who bowed in response. Once you neared the hall, you were greeted by the array of guests invited. Creatures and beings of many races and species, all bowing and greeting you with delight as you made your way by them. You had invited many from the capitol city, extending invitations to city residents when you realized there was more room for many.

You took your time, shaking hands and greeting people warmly. You swelled with warmth when you interacted with others, especially your people. They were welcoming and kind and grateful, and when you had greeted everyone you could, you asked a guard to make sure everyone left with sizable gifts to bring home.

You made your way out of the hallway and into the grand hall, where the music was playing, and guests were eating and dancing. You smiled as you greeted more people, shaking more hands and lending your ear to a particular woman who asked you nervously for a favor. You held her hand in yours as she recounted a troubling story about the building she lived in within the capitol, and you put a hand on her shoulder as you assured her you would take care of it. You beckoned a guard your way, asking him personally to attend to it.

“I see you’re handling the new position well.”

You broke out into a smile at the voice. You turned around quickly, your eyes meeting a familiar face—well, helmet. The Mandalorian stood just aways from you, leaning against the wall to watch you. Your smile faded however, into a face of pure disbelief, as your eyes ran over him. It was like seeing him for the first time again; another Mandalorian entirely stood in front of you.

His armor. The Mandalorian did not stand before you in faded red beskar. No—he was glittering practically, adorned in the most beautiful set of silver beskar you had ever seen. His shoulders were broader, his posture stood taller, and his entire figure was more menacing and more intimidating than it had ever been. The sight in front of you had you speechless for a moment, and your lips parted a bit as you took him in again and again. Your eyes were so wide; if you thought he had been pretty before, you were mistaken. The warrior in front of you—kriff, he is so hot.

“Mandalorian,” you cooed softly, finally finding the words to speak. Your body moved before you could really think about it, coming near as quick as your legs would allow you, as if he had beckoned you to him. He was drawing you in without even saying a word. You wanted to touch him, feel him, tuck yourself under his arm and tell him just how pretty he looked. “I-I was looking for you, I—”

You stopped after your eyes fell to the pauldron on his right side and its new addition. There, imprinted in beskar, was the shape of an animal that you recognized easily. It was the same animal you wore at your hip and on your headpiece. You lifted your hand curiously, touching it gently. Beskar was so well-known, a sacred resource of the Mandalorian’s people. It would be impossible not to recognize it, and yet the thought had missed you entirely. You watched as the Mandalorian’s hand reached over and touched the pin at your waist, and you swallowed hard as you met his eyes through the visor.

On the stars…I’m wearing beskar.

“Din,” you whispered, just for him to hear. Your eyes watered a bit, your hand smoothing over the signet on his shoulder again. “What…I’m…I-I don’t understand.”

He tilted his head to the side, his hand skimming past the brooch and resting lightly on your hip. His eyes roamed over your face, the signet that rested on your forehead, the silver makeup that coiled along your eyes and made your skin sparkle. You were a vision in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel as if you were dressed and polished just for him.

It was a dangerous and possessive thought, but he let himself simmer in the feeling of it. His hand slid up a bit to rest at your waist, taking in the curve of you. The dress only accentuated all of the parts of you that he admired most, and he cursed under his breath as his gaze went over the swell of your breasts against the silky fabric of your dress.

You were a vision—a vision of elegance, of perfection, of undeniable beauty. The Mandalorian had never been privy to this kind of spectacle. He had never seen you in a dress like this, radiating the refinement and grace and splendor of a queen in her court, but the sight of you made you all the more desirable. He knew just how easily you could overpower him even in the confinement of your corset, and his mouth watered just a little at the thought of you twisting a blade in your soft hands. He thought about the blade he had gifted you and how it matched your dress quite nicely.

There was a strange word hanging off the tip of his tongue. It tasted good.

Mine.

He itched to keep touching you. He ached to lift his helmet and kiss over the soft skin you were showing. He wanted so badly to kneel at your feet, slip his hand under the hem of your dress, and hear your voice say his name as he touched the prettiest parts of you. He could see your leg peeking out of the slit in your dress, and he choked a bit noticing the silver of your heels, how the fabric curled up your leg and disappeared. You had to be teasing him.

She has to be.

“It’s a long story,” the Mandalorian said lowly, finally finding it in himself to speak. “But I have earned my signet. This…is the symbol of my clan.”

You swallowed hard. You had thought the blade a representation of a request of courtship. This was something entirely different.

“B-But I’m wearing it,” you murmured. “I-I…I’m wearing your…” You lifted your hand from his shoulder to the side of his helmet, caressing where his cheek might be. You let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head, “stars, you’re going to be the death of me, Din.” You wanted to say more, wanted to wound your arms around his neck and give him a tender kiss, but there was a gentle tug on the skirt of your dress that had your head turning away from him. There was a small child staring up at you, wearing red plainclothes with a nervous look on his face as he glanced between you and the Mandalorian. You smiled warmly, kneeling to the child’s level as you took his hand to listen to his soft request.

The Mandalorian helped you back to your feet with a firm hand when your conversation was over. You kept holding the lost child’s hand and smiled at the Mandalorian, giving his gloved hand a gentle squeeze.

“Duty calls,” you said softly, intertwining your fingers for a moment. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The Mandalorian simply nodded his head, taking his place near the wall, comfortable as he watched and waited. You guided the child to the table of food, helping him secure a plate for dinner before taking him to sit at an empty chair. The Mandalorian watched as you soothed the child, wiping his tears and helping him eat as you spoke gently to him. He could see the child relaxing visibly as you talked to him, nodding his little head and even mustering a laugh as you knelt in front of him and kept speaking. The Mandalorian could feel his chest building with warmth and admiration, the same kind that always rested in him by watching you; the way you treated other people despite your station and listened to their problems and addressed them with a sense of importance was a quality that he had not seen in many others. There was a reason you had earned these people’s love and respect. There was no issue too small and no creature less important than another, not to you. There was not a doubt in his mind if he had made the wrong decision. There was not another being in the galaxy that he desired more than you, in every way.

There was not a being more worthy of wearing his signet; there was not an individual more fitting to be a part of a Mandalorian clan.

It was later in the evening when you finally came back to him. He remained by the wall, leaning against it and letting his visor follow your figure shamelessly throughout the night. You adored the way he couldn’t look away from you, and anytime you found his eyes (or at least thought you did), you smiled his way. After a long night of dancing and celebrating and eating, you could feel your toes ache in your shoes and your eyes fluttering closed every so often. The party was far from over, but all you wanted was to be alone with the Mandalorian, to tell him how much you missed him, to ask him why on the stars he had sacrificed precious Mandalorian steel just for you.

His helmet never moved as you walked towards him. When you were within reach, his hand extended, curling around your waist and guiding you to him. You smiled, your palms resting against his chest as you looked up at him.

“Will you escort me to my room?” You asked softly. “These shoes are killing me…”

He nodded once, letting go of you reluctantly. You curled your arm through his, resting your head against his pauldron as he guided you out of the hall. You smiled and waved at any guests you passed, and you did not miss the way they stared at the pair of you in awe. You secretly liked the whispers that sounded.

When the bedroom doors shut behind you, you couldn’t keep your hands off of the Mandalorian. You took his hands in yours, walking backwards until your back hit the wall, and you slid your hands over his forearms and the inside of his elbows and over his shoulders before moving down his chest. You sucked in soft breaths as you leaned up on your toes and put your forehead to his, letting your lips brush against his helmet; you even managed to let out soft whines as his own hands moved along the curves of your waist and your lower back. The Mandalorian had never been anything but respectful, but the ghost of his fingers over the curve of your lower back was cheeky at best.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, kissing his helmet where your lips touched. “Din, it’s been so long…” You closed your eyes, “I was worried. And now you’re here…And gods, Din, you look incredible…” You hooked your fingers into the space under his cuirass and tugged him away from the wall, guiding him until he sat on the edge of your bed. You stood between his thighs, lowering until you were seated on one of them, the beskar of his tassets supporting you as you leaned against him in his lap. You shook your head, “Tell me what happened.”

So he did. With one arm around his shoulders and the other rubbing along the nape of his neck, he murmured in your ear about the long journey he had endured in his absence. He explained how he earned the signet on his pauldron, and he told you of the Child he had found and lost all over again. With your hand on his helmet, he told you, shamefully, how he had removed it and how he was a Mandalorian no more. You listened, never letting your attention falter, not once. Your eyes remained on his, your touch soothed him when his voice cracked, and he found comfort in the closeness of you.

“Oh, Din,” you whispered when he had quieted. “What a lucky child he is…that out of all the bounty hunters in the galaxy, you were the one to find him.” You smiled wide. “If he is as smart and as wise and as capable as you describe him to be—” You put both hands on either side of his helmet, keeping his head level with yours, “—he will come back to you. I should know.” You laughed a bit. “It is impossible to be away from you for too long, Din Djarin.”

A beat passed. And then he said your name.

“I came back,” he swallowed hard, “I came back for you.” You tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to continue. “He…he made me realize what was important to me. And now that he is gone…I-I had to come back for you.” You looked away sheepishly, but he put his fingers under your chin and forced you to look at him again. “There is nothing I have to offer you. I am not even a Mandalorian any longer. All I have is…myself. But I would be a fool not to make this proposal to you.” You hummed softly, smoothing a hand down his chest. “The gifts I’ve presented to you…I…”

Stars, he’s so nervous. I wish I could see his eyes.

“Din,” you stopped him gently. “If you are asking for my hand…” You laughed a bit, “you should know that it’s yours. It’s always been yours.” You squeezed his hand in yours once you found it, then you moved your hands to either side of his helmet and moved his visor to face you. You hoped your eyes were looking into his; the Mandalorian was almost afraid of how quickly you found them when you had no idea where his eyes really were. “If you’re asking me to be a part of your clan…to accept your gifts and wear your signet as well as my own…” You smiled nervously, “well, I…I accept.”

His helmet dropped, the front of it resting against your chest. You wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him there, soothing him quietly. He squeezed you tighter against him, until there was no space between you, none at all.

You stayed that way for a little while, just letting yourselves breathe each other in and find your ground again. You slid off his lap when you finally pulled away, sitting up against the headboard of your bed as the Mandalorian continued to sit on the edge, facing away from you. It was a strange sight to see him so apprehensive. He was a warrior of hardened discipline and seasoned experience in many things; he knew many different languages and never seemed out of place in any situation. But here, on your bed, you could tell this was not a place he had ever been before; he did not know how to sit, where to put his hands, or what to say next.

He's sweet.

“Din?” You called out gently, and he turned his helmet a bit to acknowledge you. “Could you help me?” You reached over and lifted the hem of your dress a bit, revealing the intricately tied heels you were wearing.

An invitation, a bold one. An invitation into your space. An invitation for him to touch you, in ways he had not before.

Not an invitation. Closer to begging.

He nodded, standing and moving to sit closer to you, facing you now. You lifted your leg for him, and you pursed your lips to keep a soft sound from escaping as he smoothed a gloved hand up the side of your leg, looking for where the knot of it was. There was static in your mind clouding your decent thoughts as he did this slowly. He stopped as he met the edge of the slit in your skirt, silently asking for permission. You nodded, and his hand disappeared under the hem, his palm warm against your upper thigh. His fingers found the knot, pulling at the ties gently until the coiled fabric became loose around your leg.

Oh, not sweet…no, not sweet—he’s making my head spin touching me like this.

He bent your leg at the knee, fitting his finger into the swirling fabric and pulling, watching the ribbons fall easily. He took a hold of your ankle, easing the heel off your foot and letting it fall to the ground. You started to breathe heavier as he did the same to your other leg, his touch wandering as he did so. Ghosting over the bone of your ankle, up along your calf, over your knee. His touch was sizzling, raising the hairs on your body as he traced the skin of your thigh. When he found the holster with the blade fastened, he only paused for a moment before removing it. When the other shoe and the holster dropped to the ground with a thud, you both stared at each other, unmoving as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

It was now or never; you decided now sufficed.

You leaned over and took his hand, pulling him enough that he was forced to either let go or climb over you. You hummed when he chose the latter, your eyes on his visor as he moved close enough over you to touch his forehead to yours. The clink of metal made your lips tremble; it was a soft touch of beskar against beskar, and it was such a pretty sound. You closed your eyes, gasping with relief when his gloved hand found the slit of your dress again and wandered under the hem, disappearing between your widening thighs. You were warm and wet already, a heat radiating off of you since the moment you laid your eyes on him and got a look at his iridescent armor, sturdy and new and solid just like the foundations of this new feeling.

Gods, I was so wrong. He’s good at everything; there is no skill that he lacks.

The Mandalorian had no trouble hooking his fingers into the edge of your undergarments and discarding of them. He wadded the silky fabric in his hand and tossed it aside, his other arm moving behind you to wrap around your waist and yank you towards him. You made a surprised yip at the harsh tug, whimpering at how he crowded your space with his broadness. The surprise died into a moan as two of his gloved fingers plunged deep into you without warning.

The Mandalorian never waited for anything. He was impatient, and he was always on the clock. Even now, even with no timer on when this night should end, he couldn’t wait. He had waited too long for this, and not hearing your sweet voice hissing in pleasure for even a second longer would not do. You were a coveted being he had lingered upon for far too long—he would not let his newfound fortune go to waste.

Your hands held onto his shoulders for support, moving up to wrap around his neck as you let out another moan of relief. Your head fell back a bit, your eyes fluttering closed as your thighs closed around his hand. He dropped the hand on your waist to wrap your leg around his middle, keeping you spread for him. His fingers, despite his glove still on, were making you tremble. The slickness of you allowed him the ease of a gentle pace, and he watched the expression of your face as he effortlessly relaxed your tightness as he stuffed you full.

“That’s it,” he muttered, feeling you relent to his touch, and you whined at the sound of his voice. The Mandalorian rarely spoke; the only words he ever said were purposeful and carefully chosen. This slip of a phrase was just a testament to how not in control he was, to how impatient and needy he was becoming for you. His fingers moved slowly, deep and heavy as they slid achingly well in and out. Even through his gloves, the Mandalorian could feel how tight you squeezed him, how your body begged for more of his touch. His thumb waved over a plump, wet bundle of nerves, and you jerked a bit in his arms, pressing your mouth to the front of his helmet and muffling a moan into the beskar. His fingers retracted, and you cried out with need, but you noticed him discard the glove to the side.

Oh, gods—it was like seeing him naked.

You saw his skin for the first time, but you weren’t able to focus on his fingers long enough before they were pushing past your plump bottom lip and sinking into your mouth. You moaned around them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you sucked gently on them. It was only for a moment, because then his hand went under your dress again, and you were grinding pathetically against the palm of his hand, two fingers deep inside of you again. Like a machine he knew all too well, as if he was tuning up his blaster or tightening a bolt in his ship, the Mandalorian was learning you, memorizing you, claiming you between these four walls. The Mandalorian was well-versed in many things, and he prided himself on these qualities—he would not rest until he held the same semblance of knowledge on you and what places inside of you made you weak.

Mine. She’s mine, she’s all mine, and she will never forget it.

You were flushed now, sweating a bit as you felt the heat and need of pleasure taking over you. The silver makeup around your eyes was smearing a little, littering your face in silver sparkles that was making you glow. The Mandalorian watched with a heavy pant as he moved his fingers quicker, the rising tone of your moans driving him to get you to that brink of ecstasy that you craved so much; it was clear in the darkness of your eyes and the tight grip you had on him that you were not far away. His fingers curled, spreading and moving and letting the squeeze of your walls guide him into a rhythmic pace that had you breathless and staggered—oh—Din—yes, please—!

You came with a frenzied whimper against his shoulder, your legs shaking as you rode out the blissful feeling with a grind of your hips against his hand. You barely let yourself rest, barely let yourself seethe in that heavenly feeling. You wasted no time, not giving yourself even a moment to bask in that pretty afterglow before you were pushing the Mandalorian onto his back, hiking up your dress as you straddled him.

“Wait—” he put a hand around your neck, holding you at a safe distance, but you whined in frustration, sitting yourself down on him and coaxing a harsh groan from him as you circled your hips.

The Mandalorian had no clue how close you were to breaking, how far past your own limit you had strayed. The control, the restraint, the checks and balances you had trained yourself to obey were falling and falling and falling, at a speed you could not keep up with, and you were finished trying to catch up.

If you were falling, the Mandalorian would catch you.

“Din, I swear—” you gasped, “you have no idea what you do to me,” you cradled his helmet between your arms, keeping your hips going at a steady pace against him. He put both palms against you from behind, squeezing the flesh of you. He was hard, so hard, and you angled your pelvis until you felt him perfectly against you, sitting between your folds with nothing but his pants to separate you. You were desperate, the heat inside of you too blistering to ignore, and you needed him to understand that you could not wait any longer. You had thought about this since you had met him, you had thought about how much you wanted to be his and only his and be surrounded by the essence of him until it was all you could ever know.

I want him to fuck me until it’s all I will ever know.

You stopped, slowing your hips and sinking down against him. You moved one hand and grasped his, guiding it up to the laces of your dress. You spoke no words, but he understood; he practically invented this unspoken language, and there was no need to explain.

Especially not when I can see the fire in her eyes.

So he obliged. He sat up with you, foreheads pressed together as he undid the ties at your back. You put a hand to your chest as the dress loosened around you, holding it up so it wouldn’t fall. You used your other hand and put a thumb to the bottom of his helmet, forcing it to tip down as you let go of the front of your dress, the straps falling as it pooled at your waist.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine.

You unpinned the brooch at your waist carefully and set it down beside the bed before discarding the dress onto the floor. You were bare in the Mandalorian’s lap, wearing nothing but the beskar headpiece he gifted you and a sheen of sparkly silver sweat. It felt almost sacrilegious to be like this with him; his Creed did not allow you to see any more of him, in fact you had most likely already seen too much, and yet you felt like he was wearing nothing at all either.

“Din—” You smoothed a few fingers down the side of his helmet, smiling a bit. “Do you like what you see?” You received a curt nod in response, and then a tight, possessive squeeze of your bare waist. “You’re so quiet…” Your voice fell to a soft whisper. “It’s sweet. But I don’t want you to be sweet, Din.” You raised the helmet with a few fingers, kissing the metal soft. “Not tonight. Not with me.”

So he wasn’t sweet. He unbuckled the utility belt he wore, and with your help, lifted it off of him and put it to the side. You gave him a shy smile as you reached for the cowl tucked into his chest plate, dragging it out and dropping it beside your discarded dress. You pressed your forehead to his as you laid on your back, bringing him with you as you both stared at each other knowingly. He was heavy, still wearing his armor and not even stopping to take off his boots, but the weight of him was not unwelcome. The metal was cold against your hot skin, but if anything, it cooled the desire in you just a little, offering some sort of relief because you were starting to lose your sanity with how badly you needed this man.

I can’t think, I can barely breathe…I barely remember my name, the only one I can really remember is his—

You were on fire. Burning, burning, burning up with need as he dropped his head onto the pillow beside you and sank until his hips were pressed right into yours. Your legs tightened around his middle, ankles crossing at his back as you felt him so deep. You angled your hips up a bit, your head falling back as you let out a cry. But you asked him not to be sweet, so he gripped your face with his still-gloved hand and rutted up into you after just a few moments of adjustment. You squeezed him in response, your body’s own way of telling him yes, more, give me more.

So he gave you more. In the quiet of your room, with no more light than some flickering candles littered about and the low moonlight coming in from the windows, the Mandalorian groaned in your ear and fucked you into the soft sheets of your bed. You kept your eyes where you thought his might be, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with him; but this was a useless attempt. He was so hard, filling you up too well, and he was making you dazed with pleasure as you laid there, helpless and letting yourself succumb to just him, him, only him. His thumb wiped across your face, brushing your needy tears away as he smeared more of that pretty silver makeup along your skin. He rubbed it along your bottom lip, aching to get that silver color on every part of you, even just a little. You were so beautiful, wearing nothing but beskar, and some part of him wished that you could mold with him just like this, beskar and flesh and hot breath and nothing more.

The Mandalorian thought that perhaps he could survive on just that.

“Din—” Your voice brought him back to you. You were close, getting so close, and you whined in surprise as he sat up and pressed you into the headboard, driving into you at such an agonizing pace. You didn’t think he could take up any more of you, you didn’t think he could make you feel any more, but he was hitting deeper, grunting as he used the weight of himself to tower over you and fuck you hard. You held onto him with a tight grip around his neck, sitting back on his thighs as the only sounds leaving you were small moans and the sputtered echoes of his name—Din, stars—mmph!

There was nothing in the galaxy that could convince you that he was a Mandalorian no longer. He was fighter inside and out, a man who only sought to move forward and not dwell on his past; he had faced too many adversities and prevailed when every odd was against him too many times to ever be anything but a Mandalorian. He had too much honor and too much love to give. His word was sacred, his hands were deadly, and he was motivated by nothing but his clan—if he was not considered a Mandalorian, then there was no one worthy of the name.

You could not see his eyes, but every touch of him and every snap of his hips against yours was enough to tell you that he thought of you no differently. There was no man or woman better intended for your station, no person more worthy of wearing Mandalorian steel, no being more deserving of love and stardust. You were perfection in his arms, your voice the song that brought him back to earth, and the way your body was succumbing to him despite the layers between you only convinced him further that he would not find another like you again.

Mine, mine, mine, she’s all mine.

He pledged to make you see stars until you understood the vows of his new life. You were his new life, you were the new armor that would hold him together, and he would have you just like this, under him crying out only his name, until you felt it in your bones.

The Mandalorian let out a satisfied grunt as you pushed on his chest, forcing him to sit back on his heels. You sat up in his arms, looking down at him as you kept up his grueling pace, your hair falling out of place but your headpiece not moving an inch as you became sloppy, unhinged, moving your hips carelessly as you chased your high all over again. Your forehead smacked against his, the beskar hitting each other sounding like a bell around the room as you wept out his name again and again and again.

He was stretching you, hitting the most precious places inside of you, fucking you as if it was a challenge. You yielded, helplessly, letting out the softest whimpers as you went limp in his arms, letting the strength of them hold you up and keep the rhythm. This was how it always would be, you were convinced; if you faltered, he would continue without a beat passing, and you would do the same. The Mandalorian wanted to yank your head back, put your eyes to the stars, and say Mandalorian vows to you right then.

We are one when together.

You cried out loudly, squeezing the skin of his neck as your eyes fell back in your head.

“Din—” You tugged helplessly on him, trying to get him as close as possible. “Din, I-I can’t…”

He reached a hand up, cupping your sweet face in his palm and guiding your eyes to his. Though you couldn’t see them, you could feel that you had his gaze.

“I have you,” he murmured, a low groan finally leaving him. You put your hands against the helmet, nodding wordlessly. “I-I have you.”

We are one when parted.

You pressed your face into his neck, his helmet tilted back to give you space to rest there. You tugged down the collar of his flight suit just enough to kiss him there, your teeth biting down gently as you finally saw stars, millions of them blinding your vision as you let him take you far away. You moaned powerlessly in his arms, your hips chasing his as you rode out some blissful high that left you wordless, hazy, dumbstruck with the taste, the smell, the feel of him. All five senses were Din, Din, Din, and you breathed it in until you could breathe no more.

We will share all. We will raise warriors.

You hissed with delight when you felt his hands squeeze you possessively, his hips faltering as he relaxed. You rested your face against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you settled there in his arms. There was no space between you; there was no force that could break you apart, not right now, perhaps not ever. You adjusted yourself just slightly, and you both moaned, feeling your thighs soak with each other, dripping along your skin and onto his pants, making a mess. You smiled at that, growing flustered as you pulled your head up and stared into his eyes sheepishly. He pushed your hair back away from your face, adoring the sight of you. You were not a royal made of glass; you were a woman made of steel, and he imagined it might be Mandalorian steel—impenetrable, protective, beautiful.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine…she’s mine, and that’s why she’s so pretty, that’s why I can’t get enough of her, that’s why nothing makes sense unless I see her, unless I can feel her, unless I am all around her.

You picked up the discarded clothes around the room, albeit on wobbly legs. You hung the dress up carefully, slipping into another a light silk dress to sleep in as you gathered the rest of the Mandalorian’s things off the floor and set them down on a table nearby. The room was warm, and the starlight was bright, and the sight of the Mandalorian shuffling around your space put you at ease. He belonged here. Not long ago, he seemed unsure of himself in your room; now he took up the places he stood in as if he always had been there.

The Mandalorian saw a reflection of himself in you. He had seen it from the moment you had boarded his ship the very first morning he had met you. The nimble way you held a weapon, the ease and comfort and grace you had when fighting another—he even saw it in the way you put yourself back together when one of your own tried to steal the goodness and kindness of your heart by killing it out of you. Like him, you were molded by grief and difficulty and honor; if he closed his eyes, he might have thought you were Mandalorian yourself. It was the kind of thought that prompted him to commission beskar pieces on your behalf; it was not a sacrifice of Mandalorian steel, it was an offering.

It was only now that the Mandalorian thought of redemption. As he came close to you and put a hand on your face, his fingers tight under your chin to look at you, he began to believe in redemption, in salvation, in the revitalization of who he was at his core. Because in your eyes, he could see the image of himself, the silver of his beskar and the darkness of his visor and all the parts of him that you loved so deeply, all the parts of him that you had no reluctance saying yes to.

“There…there is a way for me to be redeemed,” the Mandalorian murmured, smoothing his fingers up your jaw. Your eyes sparkled, and you put your hand over his, squeezing him gently. “If I bathe in the Living Waters, then I will be Mandalorian again. But…I have a few things to do before I can try.”

Your eyes shined, a smile coming over your face as you stood on your toes, level with his eyes. The Mandalorian saw something new in your gaze. Wonder, excitement, the rush of adventure all blurring into one. You moved both hands forward, touching both sides of his helmet, kissing the metal softly as you silently gave him your permission, your acceptance, your encouragement of starting something over. You had waited a long time for the Mandalorian to come back to you; you had waited even longer for him to ask you to come with him.

There it was, he saw it so clearly—stardust in your eyes and joy on your mouth and silver against your skin. You were a sight all too beautiful. He thought about kneeling, about dropping his head and telling a queen that there was no place in the galaxy, in the cosmos, amongst the stars that he would not go to for you. If the Mandalorian knew how inflated you were with the same feeling, he might’ve lost his balance.

“Well…”

Your eyes were still there, still full of starlight.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine.

“…then what are we waiting for?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #pedro pascal #the mandalorian imagine

[alicanta77]

pairing: alien!jisung x human!reader themes: fluff, angst, alien au warnings: abduction, experimentation, imprisonment, execution (sort of?) words: 16k synopsis: waking up from the deepest sleep of your life to find out that you had actually been abducted by aliens and were on their ship was not how you had thought your tuesday morning way going to go. but when a shy alien bursts through the door asking for your help you find yourself saying yes. however, as the two of you get closer to each other, you find yourselves uncovering a twisted web of lies that threaten everything the two of you have ever known.​​​

i. good morning sunshine

Your eyes fluttered slightly, the hold that sleep had on you felt much deeper than you were used to. Normally you weren’t a seriously heavy sleeper, but somehow you felt absolutely knocked out. You rolled over onto your side, reaching for your duvet to pull it over your head and drown out the sound of your alarm. However, your hand grabbed at empty air instead of your warm covers, causing you to squeeze your eyes further shut in confusion. You must have kicked your duvet off during the night. Annoying, but it wasn’t the first time it had happened. You rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, groaning in the usual frustration that came with waking up.

You made no attempt to get up, already tired at the idea of going off to lessons. It was only then, in those seconds you weren’t moving, that you took in the silence around you. There was no high pitched repetitive beeping of your alarm, alerting you that it was time to wake up. You couldn’t hear your mother downstairs, banging pots and pans around as she made breakfast. There was no shouting from your father as he tried to reason with his business partners over the phone. Nothing. No, your room was completely silent. There was no sign of life anywhere.

Your eyes slowly peeled open, hoping to check the time on your phone by your bed. You flung an arm out, a small yelp leaving you when it hit nothing and instead the momentum of your movement caused you to roll rather ungracefully off your bed.

You landed on the hard ground, confusion and sleep clouding your mind. You must have been lying on the very edge of your bed. But you hadn’t fallen out of bed since you were a kid. Also, since when was your bed that small? And your floor somehow didn’t feel like carpet anymore?

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position slowly, rubbing the part of your forehead that still dully ached from you not so gently landing on the floor. As your eyes gradually adjusted to the light, you took in your surroundings. 

The walls and floor were a matching light grey colour. In fact, the entire room was varying shades of grey. You jumped up, practically throwing yourself to your feet, but your body felt like jelly and you stumbled backwards into your bed. You closed your eyes tight, trying to get rid of the black dots slightly clouding your vision. Your control over your body began to come back to you, just as you came to a terrifying realisation.

You had no idea where you were.

Your breath began to shorten as you tried with everything you could to keep yourself calm.

Had you been kidnapped? What kind of place is this? Are they holding you for ransom? Why did they want you? Who on earth could “they” be? How long have you been asleep? How much danger are you in?

Just as these worries began to completely consume you, you heard the door begin to click, signalling what you assumed was a lock. Your eyes shot around the room, looking for anything that could pass as a weapon if you needed. However, the room was minimalist, basically empty, and there was nothing that you would be able to pick up and defend yourself with if you needed. Your heart was pounding so hard you wondered if it would be heard by whoever was trying to get into this room. Whoever had taken you.

Dear god you hoped not.

The door suddenly opened at speed, and a tall figure burst in before shutting it again behind them just as quickly. They turned around as you finally got a look at their face.

It was a boy. He was tall and slim, and staring down at you with his eyes wide with panic. His hair lay messily on his face and you couldn’t quite tell if it was a very dark blue, black or purple. It was as if each colour changed with the movement his head made. He kept looking over his shoulder, checking behind him for something before turning back to you. When he spoke his voice was deeper than you were prepared for, the husk in it surprising you. But nothing surprised you as much as the words he spoke.

“You have no idea how many rules I’m breaking here but my human studies final is coming up and I really need help because I’m going to fail it.”

Your mouth hung open, the words that left the boy’s lips making zero sense to you. You tried to form a sentence, no words making their way out of your mouth. You wanted to ask him so much, what he meant by ‘human studies’, who he was, where you were, yet all you could get out was:

“You’re long.”

Long... not even tall. Long. Wow, well described y/n.

You shook your head, looking around you again, taking in the grey walls. Your gaze eventually came back to rest on the, according to you, long boy who stood, now with a perplexed expression on his face. He looked down at himself, as if trying to understand what you meant.

“Umm,” You muttered, brushing your hands off on your pyjama bottoms, feeling the hard material move under your fingers.

Wait... your pyjamas weren’t hard. Your head shot down, finally taking in the grey jumpsuit you were in that was definitely not what you had gone to sleep in. A scream built up in your throat, one that you tried with all your might to stifle, leaving just a squeak to get through.

“Ahhh.” The boy muttered and your panicked eyes looked up at him. “Yeah, the materials you humans use to make clothes don’t really work here, so that’s the best I could do.” He looked down, biting his lip nervously at your reaction.

You stared at your clothes again, your mouth opening and closing without any words coming out of it. The amount of questions that were swimming around your mind were suffocating you and, even though he had tried to give you an answer of some kind, all it had done was made you even more confused.

“Are- are you okay?” He stuttered, his deep voice wavering slightly.

“No.” You answered blatantly. “Of course I’m not okay! I went to sleep at home, in my own bed and now I’ve woken up in this strange grey room, in clothes that aren’t mine, and you’ve appeared telling me that you need help for a human studies final? I have no idea what the hell is going on.”

The boy swallows, his expression changing to one of guilt and sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters. “I really need to pass this exam and I panicked. I promise you can go straight home afterwards.”

“Afterwards? After what?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to get off this ship and go home now.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for longer than I expected so we moved off and we won’t be coming back to this place for a little while...” He revealed.

The realisation hit you and you stepped backwards, your legs hitting the hard bed you had been lying on. You let them give out, sitting down on the grey material, breathing out a shaky breath. You couldn’t go home. And, whatever this place was, you had no idea how long you’d be stuck here for.

You looked back up at the tall boy, tilting your head at him, and watching as he did the same thing back. The seemingly innocent action might have brought a small smile to your face if it weren’t for the dire situation you were in.

“I’m stuck here?” You whispered and he nodded in response. Your heart sank and a new kind of fear set in. “For how long?”

“I’m not sure. Time doesn’t move the same way for us as it does in your world.” He explained, yet his explanation, once again, made no sense.

“My world? What do you mean by my world? And what did you mean when you said ‘you humans’?” The way he was speaking was starting to scare you, as if he was something strange that wasn’t from Earth. He looked human, but he seemed to believe he wasn’t.

“I guess I’m what you would call an alien?” He revealed and you raised your eyebrows at him. “Really I am!” He insisted, his voice whining a bit when he realised that you didn’t believe him. 

“So what... are you like E.T. or something?” You scoffed slightly, getting a little offended that he expected you to believe something like that

“My name is Jisung and I’ve never left this ship. My planet was destroyed before I was born and we’ve been travelling around in this ship trying to find a new place to settle.”

You frowned at him disbelievingly. This has got to be some kind of prank right?

“So, you’re telling me that I’ve been abducted by an alien and I’m currently on your UFO because you need help passing a human studies exam?” You summed up, almost laughing at how ridiculous the whole situation sounded.

But Jisung just shrugged mutter a soft:

“Pretty much.”

You shook your head, looking down at the grey floor again.

“Can I just go home please?” You asked, your voice much firmer this time as you knew none of this could be real. You stood up, pacing around the room as you spoke. “Or can you at least wake me up? Oh my god, I’m dreaming! Of course I’m dreaming. Oh this is fun I’ve never had a lucid dream before, I wonder what I can do.”

“Listen!” Jisung grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “You’re not dreaming, look out that window.”

You followed where Jisung was pointing, approaching the six-sided window that sheltered the view from you by a thin cover. You pulled on it, letting the cover fly up and reveal all that you had been missing.

“Wow.” You gasped, staring out at what you saw in front of you.

Jisung came up behind you, looking out of the same window. “Does that look like something you can see in a dream?”

“Kind of.” You answered honestly. “But not one of mine.”

The sky was black, stretching out for miles beyond where the eye could see. Small bright dots that you recognised at stars decorated the view. But closer, closer than that was a planet. Bright purple with white and yellow swirled through it like paint. It had a moon next to it too, the tell tale white colour with craters carved out of it.

You still couldn’t understand how people thought the moon was made of cheese.

You lifted a hand and placed it on the glass, unable to find the words to describe how you were feeling. The colours seemed to move as you went shooting through time and space. Watching the planets move away from you only reminded you of the fact that with every second that passed you were being taken further and further away from your home.

Your hand slid down, falling limply by your side. You let out a deep breath, your gaze falling down to the grey floor at your feet.

Jisung watched you from behind, a harsh guilt flooding his system at the sight of you. He truly hadn’t realised that you would be stuck here and now all he could focus on was how selfish he had been. He opened his mouth to ask if you were alright when he was stopped by the sound of you clearing your throat.

“So... um...” You started, blinking away the few tears that threatened to form on your waterline and turning around to face him. “How come everything is grey here? Is this the same for all of your rooms?”

“Oh, no,” Jisung replied. “The walls aren’t actually grey but because you’re human you wouldn’t be able to look at the colours we have.”

“Why? Would I go blind?” You joked, cracking a small smile.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Your smile dropped as fast as it had formed, that familiar sense of fear bubbling up again as you swallowed it down. “Cool.”

You walked a bit around the bare room, running your fingers along the walls as you did.

“How far away is your exam?”

Jisung blinked a few times. “Exam?”

“Yeah? The exam you need help with?” You reminded him, holding back a smile as the realisation formed on his face.

“Oh! Yeah, well, it’s hard to explain. Time moves differently in space compared to Earth. It will feel as though it passes the same, but it’s moving at a completely different speed. One that you aren’t able to measure. Earth time is almost standing still at the moment, so when you do go home no time will have passed at all there.”

“At least my family won’t worry about me.” You sighed. Now that was one issue out of your mind. But you now really had no idea how long you would be here. How else were you going to pass the time?

“I guess... what do you need to know?”

ii. space school... about earth... but in space... sure

“Okay, what do you want to work on today?” You swung your legs off the edge of the desk you were sitting on. Jisung had adjusted some type of colour setting in your room and helped add some “human” colour to your previously grey surroundings. As well as that, in order to help you both easily identify who was talking about which species, you’d agreed amongst yourselves to refer to them as “humans” and “aliens”. Even though Jisung had pouted and insisted it was a large generalisation, he agreed eventually and promised to never call you an Earthling - not that you understood why. But you assumed it wasn’t a compliment from aliens.

Jisung opened his large folder, a load of papers falling out as he did and landing on the ground with a loud thud.

You chuckled at him. His clumsiness was a rather endearing quality of his, and one that you had grown to like first. In truth, his overall personality was very endearing, from his clumsiness, to his initially shy nature to how now that he was comfortable around you it was hard to get the boy to stop talking. He seemed to want to do anything other than focus.

You were starting to see how he was failing.

“How about... biology? Or education?” Jisung suggested, trying to find the relevant papers.

You jumped off the edge of the desk, reaching out and grabbing a paper that you saw had fallen further from the pile. You brought it up to read it, studying the information there that Jisung had yet to learn.

“Biology.” You decided. “We did education recently so there’s no point in going over it already.”

Jisung groaned, flopping face down on the bed, allowing his arms and legs to hang off the edge.

“I hate biology. Plus your education is so difficult to understand I think I need to go over it again.”

“No you don’t.” You laughed at him. “Plus we have so much to get through in so little time, your exam is getting closer everyday.”

“But we’ve started Biology!”

“So tell me what you’ve learnt! Talk to me about how to differentiate humans from aliens.” You shot back, grinning at him.

He sighed, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“There were multiple things we’ve covered but the biggest thing, that’s also the weirdest by the way, is that you have different reactions than we do. While our emotions can come out in changing our hair colour, yours can come out in your cheeks, through... blushing?” He repeated, his face splitting into a grin as you nodded. “Can’t believe your face turns red, how weird is that...”

“Well, not everyone. It depends on skin colour and stuff. Basically the level of pigmentation in the skin depends on how visible blushing is.” You corrected him, flipping through his textbook for your next subject.

“That’s cool.” Jisung mused. “I wonder what I’d look like if I blushed... Would it show up on me?”

You looked over at him chuckling. “Well you’re on the lighter side of skin tones, so yes, I think I’d assume it would. I can’t believe this book didn’t mention anything about blushing...”

You turned another page in the book, searching for some paragraph about it but frowning as you read what was written instead.

Jisung noticed your expression, asking a quick “What’s wrong?”

‘It’s just... the information in this book... When did it come out?”

“Last year. Why?”

You shook your head. “That doesn’t make sense. It says here that aliens and humans have a long history together. And it goes into saying how, when it comes down to it, we have a very similar history. Like, we basically come from the same place.”

You looked over at Jisung who was looking back at you, looking a little lost as to what you were saying. “I don’t follow. How is this important?” He asked.

“If we started so close together, how did we drift so far apart? And what is it that actually separates you from me? What is it that makes us so different? Because it’s not from the fundamentals.”

“Oh...” Jisung murmured, shifting closer to you on the bed. “Do you think that’s why some of the books are inaccurate?”

“Possibly.” You mused. A while back, you had been flicking through the biology textbook and some of it had made you quite confused. There were details in there that you knew were wrong and inaccurate and you couldn’t figure out why. “Maybe they think that we’re still the same? And that’s why it’s wrong because they assume we work the same way as you!”

“But we don’t work like that.” Jisung shut down your idea. “Aliens don’t have to shed their skin each month either.”

You looked back at the book, flipping towards the page that held those details and began to read out loud.

“Humans have skin that covers their entire bodies. It is this skin that provides a defensive layer over them and keeps their bodies in its proper shape. To ensure the quality of their skin layer, they undergo a ‘shed’ each month, which consists of using force to lose the recent skin layer. They have tools that may help them with this, of which these tools have harsh jagged edges to encourage the shed to commence.”

You sighed to yourself at the paragraph. You couldn’t wrap your head around how it was so outlandish and wrong. 

“Technically people do exfoliate, which is where they remove dead skin off their bodies. But not like this, this is bizarre.”

“Are you sure? There’s no way these things could have gotten confused?” Jisung asked, and while you were sure he was searching for a solution, you knew that this wasn’t it.

“Absolutely not. Exfoliating is something people do in the shower to keep their skin smooth. This is an exorcism.” You giggled to yourself slightly at your own joke, but sadly it seemed to go straight over Jisung’s head. You shook it off realising he probably had no idea what an exorcism was and moved on.

“Right, well where in Biology are you least confident?”

Jisung groaned. “All of it! Especially since you say that half of it isn’t even true. What do I do then? Do I write about what you say or do I write about what’s in the book?”

“Well, I would write about what’s in the book I guess. After all, that’s what you’re being taught.” You answered.

“Can we please take a break?” He pleaded, bringing out his puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve barely started-” You began to protest but he cut you off.

“Then let’s learn but why don’t you ask me questions? What do you want to know about how I live?” He swiftly changed the topic but you completely fell for it, invested in the secrecy around who he was, even if you hadn’t said so.

You shrugged, playing it off. “Okay then. I guess, what happens if we don’t get back to Earth before you take your test? What happens to me then?”

“I’ll keep you hidden until we do.” Jisung replied as if it was that simple.

“So you’re not going to turn me in? Allow them to perform experiments on me, figure out how I work so they can update their textbooks?” You joked. And even though you were joking there was a part of you, a rather large part of you, that was terrified that that might actually happen.

Jisung just stared at you in complete confusion.

“No.” He answered slowly. “Why on earth would I do that? And why do you think we would perform experiments on you? We’re aliens not barbarians.”

You blinked a few times, confused at yourself for your reasoning.

“I- I don’t know, I just assumed that’s what aliens would do if they captured a human.”

“Okay.” Jisung pointed a finger at you, as if you were under some kind of inspection. “I haven’t abducted or captured you, just... borrowed for a short period of time. And second of all, have you ever thought that, maybe the reason you think aliens would experiment on humans is because that’s what humans would do if they discovered we exist?”

The normally shy alien raised an eyebrow at you challengingly, his eyes never left your face and you had to force yourself to look away under his intense gaze. You felt guilty at what you said as he continued to talk.

“We know that’s what you would do. And that’s why we keep ourselves so hidden. And why we don’t... borrow... humans.”

“So, why did you ‘borrow’ me?” You asked him, adding some air quotes around the word “borrow” as you did.

“I was desperate. You really don’t want to fail classes here, it decides what job you have after you graduate and I am not going to be stuck in something I hate. And, I guess I trust you now that you’re not going to say anything about me.”

You smiled to yourself slightly, looking down at your hands at his words. For some unknown reason you found it rather difficult to meet his eyes at this moment. A warm feeling spread throughout your chest as you looked back at him.

“Understood, my presence here can never be discovered from either side. So what about Area 51?” 

Jisung groaned at that, falling backwards on the bed as he did. 

“What?” You whined. “Stop doing that, you said you’d answer my questions!”

“Area 51? Really” Jisung complained. “Do you think I’d be going through all this trouble to hide you and make sure you keep our existence a secret if you had this base filled with aliens back on Earth? It’s just humans being bored, dramatic and wanting to believe there’s something more to this world than what they were told.”

“But there is.” You said softly, smiling down at him as that warm feeling spread through your chest again. He looked over at you. “There’s you.”

A shy smile broke out across his face at your words. And if you didn’t know better, you could have sworn you saw him blush.

iii. quarantine deja vu

Jisung had been right when he said that time worked differently here. You had no idea how much time had passed, you couldn’t even begin to guess really. But one thing you knew for certain, was that warm fuzzy feeling that you got whenever you were around him was not going away. In fact it was getting worse.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but somehow almost everything he did made your stomach flip. But no matter what, you knew it wasn’t love. There was no way that you had fallen for an alien.

No matter how many textbooks told you otherwise...

But none of that mattered. You would be leaving soon apparently. Jisung’s exam was coming up and they would be close enough to Earth to drop you back home the night before.

And you would never see him again.

“Y/n?” Jisung’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Jisung had been looking out for you a lot recently, and part of it was because he felt guilty about bringing you here to help him. He knew he had turned your whole world upside down and you hadn’t ever faltered at helping him.

Jisung had always been shy. It was part of the reason he struggled so much in school. It takes him ages to open up and trust new people, but somehow you had just appeared and walked through all of those nerves without trying. There was something about you that made Jisung be his complete open and honest self. And that scared him slightly. No one had ever had that effect on him. 

And on top of that, you were human. He couldn’t afford to get this attached to you. Not when he had to send you home.

But then you looked at him, with that smile on your face that Jisung was sure made his hair turn colour and exposed him and he knew.

God he was dreading the day he had to let you go.

“Yes, of course, sorry. Your exams are nearly here, how are you feeling?”

“I think I’m okay!” Jisung grinned at you, something he’d noticed himself doing more and more these days. “Without your help I really would have failed.”

“What would happen if you failed the exam? I mean, it must be pretty bad for you to have gone so far as to bring me here to teach you.” You mused, your hand reaching up to the paper plane necklace that hung around your neck. You fiddled with the pendant, dragging it up and down the chain.

Jisung watched your movements. He’d noticed that chain from the moment you arrived. It must have been important to you if you’d slept in it, which he realised when you noticed it was missing and almost cried. He couldn’t have snuck you onto the ship in your human clothes, so he found something else for you. Luckily, since then you’d found a way for you to wear outfits that weren’t a grey jumpsuit so you were happy with that. But finding your necklace was the most important thing to you.

“If I’d failed the exam I would have been kept back a year.” Jisung said, and you nodded at that.

“That doesn’t seem like the end of the world.” You said. “I’m just wondering why it was so desperate that you needed to bring me here to help. Would your parents have gotten mad or something?”

“I don’t really know.” Jisung replied. “Our system doesn’t work that way. Parents have a very little impact on and relationship with their children. They are with them when they’re babies but after that we all just go through school.”

You were silent, not sure how to respond. You couldn’t imagine having your teachers as parental figures for your entire life.

“That sounds lonely...” You murmured, feeling sorry for the alien boy in front of you.

“It’s not when it’s the only thing you’ve ever known though.” Jisung shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s like to live in a home with parents doing whatever it is that they do for you. That seems weird to me. Instead we go through each year and when we pass the exam we move onto the next. That way, everyone is at the same level and once you finish school you get assigned a position based on your result. The faster you go through school and the better grades you get, the better position you have.”

You began to understand. “So that’s why you said it would affect your job.” You realised and Jisung nodded, smiling as he saw you grasp the concept.

“Yep. If I get held back a year, it basically rules out a bunch of good jobs and I don’t want that to happen. There is nothing worse than being stuck in a job you hate for the rest of your life. Also each level has a higher pay so... yeah I really didn’t want to be held back.”

You lay backwards, your back resting on the hard floor, looking up at the ceiling. You wondered how many stars were out there, and how many more civilisations there were.

“What’s that around your neck?” Jisung’s voice cut through your daydream.

You hummed at him while sitting up.

“On your necklace. What is it?”

Your hand instinctively came up to grab at the silver pendant. “It’s a paper plane.” You answered.

Jisung shook his head at you, signalling that he had no idea what you were on about. Your jaw dropped slightly.

“Origami!”

“Origami?” He repeated, his face a picture of confusion.

“It’s called origami.” You explained. “It’s where you take a piece of paper and fold it to make different shapes.”

Jisung tilted his head, looking intensely at your necklace. “And people can do that?”

“I can teach you.” You offered, and he nodded at you.

You stood up, walking over to the desk he was sitting at. You rummaged through some of the papers until you found a blank sheet.

“Okay, so the first thing is to fold in lengthways...” You gave him the instructions, demonstrating as you did, so that he could watch what you were doing. “And then bring in these corners... flip the paper over and fold again...”

Jisung was watching you intently. His eyes never left your hands until you held up the newly made paper plane. His eyes widened at the finished product reaching up to grab it to look it over, but he stopped before he reached it, looking up at you as if for permission. You nodded eagerly, holding it out to him to encourage him to take it.

The paper plane rested in his big hands and he turned it over multiple times, trying to make sense of what you had created. He looked at it as if you had created it out of thin air using magic.

“Throw it.” You instructed.

His head shot around, his face a picture of confusion and slight offence.

“Not out. Don’t throw it out, just throw it in the air. Use the tip as a guide and throw it in a straight line.”

Jisung looked at you questionably, but still complied. He lifted the plane up and gently threw it. The paper plane soared, travelling to the other side of the room. his jaw dropped and he spun around to look back at you with a huge smile on his face. You grinned back at him, unable to stop the surge of happiness you felt every time you saw that gummy smile appear.

“It’s streamlined. The sharp point and triangular shape allow it to easily cut through the air.” You explained, walking over to pick it back up.

Jisung looked at you in admiration and awe. He couldn’t believe that he’d got so lucky as to get to know you. You brought so much light into his life that he had no idea that he had been missing.

“Streamlined...” He repeated the unfamiliar word to himself quietly, a habit he had gotten into recently. 

In between your study sessions you and Jisung had been talking about alien and human life, where they overlapped and where they differed. Such as, how you had after-school clubs and Jisung was horrified at the idea of voluntarily staying in the school longer than you had to every week. In his words it was ‘torture disguised as a fun activity’.

He had a tendency to be a tad dramatic sometimes.

Slang had become Jisung’s favourite thing. The fact that humans had become so lazy that they didn’t even say full words anymore was hilarious to him. His current favourite word to say was lol, but he had been enjoying the use of sarcasm and was developing a big habit of saying ‘same’ anytime something goes remotely wrong.

He also had a habit of singing to himself. You’d noticed it during an intense study session early on, you had been falling asleep with a textbook over your face to block out the light when you heard him mumbling. You didn’t move, just listening to his voice, shocked at how beautiful it was. He had a deep voice with a soft tone that put you at ease anytime you heard it. Jisung was far too shy to actively sing in front of you so you had to settle for listening in when he sang to himself.

If only you had your phone you would have taken a voice recording of it. God, you wanted some piece of him to take back to Earth with you. You hated the idea that you’d have to just pretend like this whole experience never happened, like Jisung never existed. The thought made your stomach tighten.

“Do you ever wonder where aliens and humans come from?” Your thoughts were interrupted by Jisung’s question.

Honestly, you had, multiple times. But no matter how many textbooks you read, or how long you thought about it, you couldn’t seem to figure it out. All of their books seemed to say different things.

“Yeah, it’s confusing. There’s something so similar about us yet so different.” You mused, watching Jisung continually turn the paper plane over in his hands again. It was something he’d started doing often recently. He’d have something to hold onto that he could flip between his fingers, as if he had too much energy that he always needed to be doing something.

In reality, Jisung just needed something else to look at otherwise he would spend all his time staring at you.

“Maybe we’re the same. Not similar like that book said, but actually the same.” Jisung grinned, finally allowing himself to meet your eyes, and feeling that grin grow the second he did. “Maybe we’re like two descendants of the same species that have evolved in different ways.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense, you know.” You laughed, sitting yourself down in the chair that Jisung had abandoned to play with the paper plane. “Our anatomy is identical and it’s only certain things that put us apart from each other.”

“Like hair colour and blushing.” Pride was in Jisung’s voice, happy that he was bringing in his Biology studies without being prompted. “But there’s one really big one as well.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yep. You can’t survive in space. We can. Our lungs can adjust to different atmospheres so we can live anywhere in the universe.” Your jaw dropped at his words.

“Really? How have you never told me this? That’s so cool!” You exclaimed excitedly. You loved when Jisung spoke about alien life, it was fascinating.

Jisung shrugged, chuckling at your reaction. “Never came up I guess. We have a setting in each room of what atmosphere we’d like to breathe in. This one is set to Earth so that you can breathe.”

You looked around for what Jisung was talking about. You weren’t too sure what exactly you were looking for but this had intrigued you.

“It’s over here.” Jisung answered the question that you hadn’t been able to ask yet, gesturing to a small white panel that hung on the wall next to the door.

You wandered over to it, analysing the object that could quite possibly kill you if it malfunctioned. Then you realised that you probably didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole of how easily you could die here and that your life was literally in Jisung’s hands, so you closed that door up and left the panel alone.

As you turned to face Jisung, you saw him already looking at you. There was a soft smile on his face, such gentleness in his gaze that you felt the urge to curl up in his arms and hug him until time ran out. You had nothing to be scared of when Jisung was around.

Jisung would never hurt you.

iv. it wasn’t fair

The paper plane necklace that usually hung heavily around your neck was on his desk, hidden inside his Biology folder. You wanted Jisung to have something to remember you by.

The unspoken sadness in the room was evident. Jisung’s exam was in two days and you were hovering over Earth at that very moment, meaning... you had run out of time. You had to go home. And you had to say goodbye.

Jisung had been especially quiet. That had been your first clue that something was wrong. He hadn’t come bounding into your room like an excited puppy, instead he’d opened the door slowly, unable to meet your eyes and you felt your stomach drop at the sight of him.

“We’re over Earth, but it’s our only day here because we’re moving fast so we have to get you home tonight.” His voice was wavering as he spoke, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it was too difficult. It was taking everything in Jisung not to break down and cry and beg for you to stay, but that wasn’t fair and he knew it.

In fact, as far as Jisung was aware, none of this was fair.

It wasn’t fair that he’d had to get your help. It wasn’t fair that you had agreed. It wasn’t fair that you had become possibly the closest friend he’d ever had in his entire life. It wasn’t fair that he’d fallen for you. It wasn’t fair that he had to send you home. It wasn’t fair that he had no idea how he was going to continue his life without you in it. It wasn’t fair.

Maybe in another universe, there was somewhere that the two of you could have been together. And Jisung would have spent his life searching for that place if he could. But he couldn’t.

And it wasn’t fair.

You walked up to him, slowly lifting his face to look at you in the eyes and smiled sadly. You could feel the tears forming so you quickly hugged him. You wound your arms around his waist as he grabbed you pulling you closer before wrapping his around you as well. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head, with one hand stroking your hair and the other around your shoulders. You breathed in the scent of him, trying to memorise everything that you could.

This was the first time you’d ever hugged Jisung. All this time together and yet, this was your first hug.

Jisung couldn’t believe he’d never done this. You fit so perfectly in his arms it was as if he had been built for this purpose. He didn’t want to let you go. Why did your first hug have to be your last?

It wasn’t fair.

Jisung knew that he hated fair. He would scream and curse out fairness for the rest of his days if he had to. Fair took you away from him. Nothing about this is fair.

“Grant me one last favour? Can you... shut your eyes?” Jisung whispered, hoping that you couldn’t feel his tears falling onto your head as they made their way down his cheeks.

You nodded. You put your head fully into Jisung’s shoulder and cried, finally allowing the emotions to overcome you.

Then you closed your eyes.

v. sometimes things break

It had been two weeks. Well, by human time at least. You had no idea how much time had passed for Jisung. But for you, it had been two weeks since you had left Jisung.

That night you had hugged him goodbye, you had closed your eyes and when you opened them, it was to the sound of your alarm clock waking you up for school. God, you really didn’t want to go to school that day.

But you had to. You’d gotten up, gone to school, done your work, come home and lived your life as you were supposed to. But it all felt so much more empty now. Now you knew that there was so much more out there, everything felt so incomplete. And without Jisung, it was all so boring.

Your friends didn’t seem to understand you like you remembered, and none of them got you the way Jisung did. You didn’t feel as relaxed around them as you did around him, you didn’t feel as at home.

How did you feel more at home when you were in space?

Of course you knew all of this was because you loved him. That tall alien boy with the gummy smile had a hold on your heart you couldn’t break. And you were grieving him in silence as nobody else even knew he existed.

You took a sip of the glass of water you were holding. Sleep had gotten more difficult each night you had been back to the point where you had almost given up now. You had one hand resting on the sink as the other held the glass, hoping that the water would be able to settle you slightly.

You sighed, absentmindedly reaching up to your empty neck where the silver paper plane once sat.

You wondered if Jisung had found it yet. Or if he maybe wore it. And you wondered if he was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about him.

You sighed again, before refilling your now empty glass and taking it back to your room with you. You walked through your house, your feet making soft noises on the carpeted hallways as you went and you quietly shut your door behind you, knowing that your parents had long gone to sleep.

You moved towards your bedside table, going to place the glass down next to your bed. As you walked closer, you stopped to take another sip, letting out another huge sigh. It felt as though that was all you did these days.

The glass was placed on the coaster on top of your oak bedside table. Without the coaster your mum would have lost her mind at there being a water ring on the wood. You turned around, a slight flash catching your eye as you did.

That’s weird. As far as you were aware there wasn’t anything reflective on your bedside table. You turned back slowly, approaching the surface and looking down at it. You moved your glass off for a better look and gasped at what was lying there.

The glass had slipped out of your hand in shock, hitting the floor and splashing the water everywhere. But you didn’t care. You reached forward, picking up the object that you thought you would never see again.

And there, hanging from your fingers, was your silver paper plane necklace. The one you had left with Jisung before you’d left him.

You whirled around, looking for some sign of him. There was no other way that this could have come back to you. But you could see him. Your room was completely empty.

Next to your bedside table were your curtains. You rushed towards them, throwing them open and staring out into the garden, desperately looking for some sign of him between the trees and your mother’s prized rose bushes.

Where was he? He had to be here...

That was when you saw something. A flash of a shadow of something. You couldn’t tell if it was him, or a bird, or a fox, or just your eyes playing tricks on you but you didn’t care. You had to find out. 

You ran. You ran out of your bedroom, flying down the stairs and sprinting through the kitchen until you reached the back door. You grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. Your father must have locked it for the night.

Luckily, the keys were hung up next to it. So you grabbed them, fumbling to find the right one before unlocking the door and throwing yourself outside to try to find him.

You ran out into the garden, the grass soft under your bare feet.

“Oh come on.” You pleaded to yourself. “Please please please be here.”

You kept turning, your hair flicking around you as you tried to spot him. The word ‘please’ kept leaving your lips, a quiet prayer that you would get to see him again.

You ran further, going outside of the back gate and onto the fields of the local park. Then your feet came to a sudden stop.

Normally, when you came out here, you would see people walking their dogs, or sunbathing, or having a picnic with their loved ones, but none of those sights were better than seeing Jisung standing in front of you.

“You’re here.” You whispered, the words escaping you in disbelief.

Nothing could have stopped you. You ran forwards, and once you got close enough you grabbed onto him, holding him in one of the tightest hugs of your life.

Jisung had reacted instantly, his arms wrapping around your waist as soon as you were within distance. He dropped his head, burying it as close to your neck as he could get. He held onto you as if you two were the last people on the Earth. It was like the rest of the world faded away.

You couldn’t believe it. He had some back to you.

You tried to pull back, to see his face and ask him why he was here, but Jisung wouldn’t let go of you. And that was when you heard him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n. I’m so so sorry.” 

Jisung was crying. He couldn’t seem to stop apologising, the same words leaving his mouth over and over again. With each time he spoke you felt your nerves rising.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” You asked fearfully, not knowing what could have happened to get him so upset.

Out of nowhere, a huge harsh light shone down on the two of you. It took a second for your eyes to adjust again, and when they did you finally took the time to pull yourself properly out of Jisung’s arms.

He didn’t want to let you go, still trying to grip onto you, he didn’t want to face you, he couldn’t. But you got away, stepping backwards slightly and looking at him, the constant apologies finally starting to make sense.

He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time since he had arrived again, and the sight nearly broke him all over again.

“What have you done?” The words fell out of your mouth, each one laced with hurt, and that was all it took.

The tears streamed uncontrollably down Jisung’s face, and he saw the hurt in your face morph into the realisation that he never wanted you to have.

Jisung had betrayed you.

“Jisung?” You said in disbelief as you finally understood. “No... Jisung.”

You felt yourself beginning to lift off the ground, the sensation sending you into panic. You had no control, and you couldn’t get back down. You began to speed up, rising upwards and towards a large dark shape that you could just make out above you. 

You twisted in mid air, looking out for Jisung again. And when you saw him, he had his head down, his hands covering his eyes and you could see his body shaking as he cried. Then someone came out of the darkness. All you could tell was that they were older by quite a bit.

The last thing you saw was them putting a hand on Jisung’s shoulder and walking him into the centre of the light.

vi. i didn’t sign up for this

Jisung walked down the corridor, trapped in between two guards who stalked down either side of him. Since he’d been caught he wasn’t allowed anywhere unaccompanied. He had been living in hell since being discovered and punished. Every day had been awful, and since you had been taken, his life had dissolved into hell.

He didn’t understand why they had to take you, all of this had been his fault but they hadn’t understood that. Or if they had, they hadn’t listened. But no one had wanted to hear his side of the story. No one had been willing to listen to him talk about you, and convince them that you should be left out of what was going to happen.

But they had wanted you as well as him. And they had made him go to get you.

That might have been the worst part. Seeing you look at him with so much hurt, it was as if Jisung could see your heart breaking and it tore him to pieces. He didn’t know what part of him was left to break because having to hurt you had shattered him into so many pieces he didn’t think he could ever put himself back together again.

Then he had reached it, the cell you were being held in. Alien ships don’t have “prisons” exactly, but there is a glass solitary confinement unit, and that was where you were being held.

And there you were, sitting against the wall facing your bed, the glass wall Jisung was standing across from you so that he was looking at your side profile. Your food tray sat half touched, as if you had picked at what you could and Jisung could see the dried tear marks down your cheeks.

And another part of him broke.

“Y/n?” Jisung approached the bars, sinking to his knees to be level with you and lifting a hand to place it on the glass. “Y/n please... Please just look at me.” His voice was breaking, but he could help it. You hadn’t looked at him since that night where he betrayed you.

And Jisung didn’t blame you. He had lured you outside for his people to kidnap you, Jisung wouldn’t blame you if you never looked at him again. It was what he deserved.

“Y/n... I just- I didn’t- I...” Jisung didn’t know how to put into words what had happened after he took his exam, and how quickly everything had fallen apart. 

Instead he just leant his head against the glass, allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. It felt as though all he did was cry nowadays, but there was nothing else for him to do. It was hopeless. All he could do was cry and beg for your forgiveness. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, closing his eyes and feeling the cool glass underneath his forehead as he imagined that if glass didn’t exist, he could wrap you up in his arms and apologise that way. But he had to settle for a glass wall and broken words filled with tears.

And you sat there, still staring down at the floor, crying silently over the boy you lost and found again, and how he broke your heart.

vii. please don’t

A loud beep woke you up, startling you into a sitting position. If you thought you had no sense of time when you were last on this ship, you had a whole new definition of that now. At least with Jisung there was some element of time passing, with his exam getting closer. But here, you didn’t know what was morning and what was night. You didn’t know whether you’d been here for days, or weeks. You were completely blind to what was going on in the world around you.

With the harsh beeping noise, two guards burst into your cell. They grabbed you under one arm each and hauled you to your feet, quickly snapping on some kind of handcuffs as they did. You scrambled to get your footing, wanting to walk to wherever they were going to take you rather than be dragged.

Part of you was expecting to see Jisung with them. Whether he would be trying to stop them or walking silently next to them... well you’d rather not find out.

You were walked through the corridors, and as you went you couldn’t help but look at the surroundings. When they’d brought you here, you had been crying so much you couldn’t even see what was around you, not until you were put into your cell. The walls were the same grey as the previous room was, but, of course you’ll never know if that’s their actual colour because, if what Jisung told you was correct, you couldn’t see their colour spectrum. Flashes of light passed every few seconds, and after a while it was so intense that you were forced to look away.

Instead of watching the walls, or looking around for Jisung, you watched the floor. Seeing your hands held together by the strange glass-like material. There wasn’t a chain connecting them, instead they seemed to be held together like magnets, making it impossible for you to move your hands away from each other.

You thought about Jisung a lot. In fact, Jisung was practically all you thought about these days. But every time you thought about him, that hurt feeling spreads throughout your chest and takes up your being.

It was impossible to think of Jisung without feeling your heart break all over again.

You couldn’t understand why he had done it. Why had he sold you out? Did he get something in return for it? Maybe he’d been found and had no other choice? Maybe they had threatened his future? Maybe they’d known about you first then discovered about Jisung?

All these questions and many more had been circling around your head for ages. But the thing that really hurt you, was that Jisung had been the bait. He must have known what was going to happen to you, because he was apologising over and over again when you found him. Someone only apologises when they know they’ve done wrong.

No matter what you were threatened with, you would never have tricked Jisung the way he tricked you.

And now, you had no idea what was going to happen to you. You didn’t know if they were going to let you go, or if they were going to force you to stay with the alien community, or if you were going back to Earth, or if you were just some pawn in Jisung’s punishment.

There were so many unanswered questions you felt as though your head was about to explode.

When going over all of this, you hadn’t noticed how far you’d been taken. You only came back to reality when you were pulled to a stop. You were standing in front of these huge doors, with massive bolts going across them.

The bolts began to unlock and you were taken through. This was when your heart started to pound and the fear began to kick in. You really had no idea what was going to happen to you.

It was quite a large room, and looked a bit like a theatre, only it was all grey and incredibly foreboding. The second those doors opened goosebumps grew all the way down your arms. You were taken towards what looked like just beyond the back half of the room and placed on a small circular platform facing the front which held a semi circle of raised seating, in which were countless aliens. Of course, they looked just like humans, if not for their ever changing hair colour.

It slightly resembled an amphitheatre staging set up. Except it felt as though you were on trial more than putting on a show.

At the middle, and halfway up the seating, there was a panel of five aliens who you assumed would be the ones judging you as everyone else was sitting in the “audience”.

“We are the governing body of this community and we are brought here today to discuss the crimes committed against us by y/n l/n. Y/n, you stand here on trial for treason. We will discuss the evidence to the court then we will decide on a suitable punishment for your crime.”

The alien in the middle said all of this, and the more he spoke the more panicked you began to get. What was the point in giving you a trial when they clearly had already decided on your guilt?

“Here is the first piece of evidence of y/n’s presence on this ship.” The alien in the middle, who you now assumed to be the head of all of this, stood up. And there, dangling from his fingers, was your paper plane necklace. “This is a human piece of jewellery, found around the neck of one of our own. The alien who took her here, and hid her. Park Jisung.”

Hushed murmurs echoed around the room and heads turned in sync, all of them looking for Jisung. It was at this moment that the doors opened again, and Jisung was brought in. He wasn’t wearing the same constraints that you were, but he was held by two guards, one on each arm and was standing at the corner of the room, near the only door.

The alien continued.

“Jisung hid y/n here, unknown to all of us for quite some time and also managed to sneak her out. And if it weren’t for this necklace and Jisung’s exam, we may never have known about this crime.”

The alien to his left passed some papers to him and the head flipped through them.

“Question 4 section C of Jisung’s human biology exam. Describe one biological difference between aliens and humans. And Jisung answered saying ‘A main difference is blushing. This is where blood rushes to the human’s cheeks when struck by certain emotions, or after heavy exercise. However, it is important to note that not all humans blush depending on the pigmentation of the skin.’ We do not teach this here. It is not in any text book or database and there is no way for Jisung to have come across this information without human help.”

At this, he threw the papers back down on the desk with a loud smack. You flinched at the sound, your entire body alight with nerves. Your eyes flickered back to Jisung and you found him already looking at you.

This was the first time you had looked at Jisung since being brought back here, and the sight of your eyes nearly made his knees go out from under him. He was already terrified, worried to death about what may happen to you. He was exhausted from being so constantly scared for you. But you had to know that he was here for you and he would fight for you no matter what happened or what that meant for him.

“On top of this-” The head’s voice cut through the room like a chainsaw, destroying everything in its path. “Aliens can’t blush. Yet, Jisung somehow seems to have this ability. And his hair, it hasn’t changed colour in a long while.”

Shocked gasps rippled around the room, and your jaw dropped at that revelation. You thought you had seen it but as far as you were aware, it couldn’t have been possible.

Yells of ‘How is that possible?’ and ‘I won’t believe it until I see it!’ were heard everywhere, each shout bouncing off the walls. The head lifted up his hand for silence, and it fell immediately. He then gestured to the back wall and something began to play.

You turned around to see what it was and saw a video there, and it seemed to be of Jisung. It looked like he was on trial just like you are, the cuffs were around his wrists and people were shouting all around him. It looked like he went through hell.

Then you heard what the video said.

“She has done something to one of our own, and as a result must be punished.” You recognised the head alien’s voice.

Jisung’s head shot up at this, his eyes wide and pleading.

“No! You can’t, just leave her out of this, it was my fault. I brought her here, and I’ve changed because of it, just punish me, not her. Leave her out of this.” 

“You, Jisung, will go back down with us to bring her back. If she cares for you as much as you seem to for her, then seeing you will be an easy way to bring her out. Then we will put her on trial ourselves.”

You watched as Jisung’s eyes filled with tears on the video and he started struggling, pleading with them not to do this.

“Don’t take her, please! Do whatever you want, whatever you need to do to me, not her! You can break my soul, take my life away, beat me, hurt me, kill me even! But for the love of god, please don’t touch her.” He begged, the tears falling down his face at this point.

The video faded to black, leaving the arguments to start all over again at the evidence.

You couldn’t believe it though, all this time, they had made it seem like Jisung had betrayed you, yet he had tried as hard as he could to protect you. You turned around, searching for him, wanting to find some way to communicate to him that you trusted him and you were sorry for ever doubting him.

His eyes found yours easily, as if they were the only thing he was searching for. Even with tears clouding your vision, you could still see him as clear as day. He just sent you a sad smile, as if he was apologising, but you didn’t want him to do that.

“Y/n has infected one of our own!” The head’s voice cut through your moment once again, causing your head to snap back towards him. “She is nothing more than a parasite. Y/n L/n has turned Jisung human! And as a result she must be charged with treason. And since she is in our land, she will face the same punishment one of us would.”

The room erupted into shouts, and it seemed as though half the room agreed with it but the other half didn’t.

Jisung couldn’t believe what he just heard. At those words he felt as though everything went underwater. Treason... That was a horrible punishment even if you were an alien, but for a human like you... There was no way you would survive it.

“Take her to the ejection capsule!”

The guards moved on that final instruction from the head, grabbing you again and they started to drag you away. Even though you had been sentenced, you still had no idea what was about to happen to you, and you were terrified.

When Jisung saw them moving you, his entire body burst into action. He couldn’t let them do this. Not to the person he loved. He began to struggle, trying to break free of the guards holding him captive.

“No!” He screamed. “Y/n! No!”

But no matter how hard he found against them he couldn’t overpower them. And he was helpless as he got dragged down the ship after you. He kicked and screamed the entire way, trying to reach out for you, but to no avail. He saw you trying to do the same thing, attempting to wrestle out of their grip but it wasn’t working

They reached the ejection capsule slower than due to Jisung struggling, but once they got there, more guards helped to hold him down and before he knew it, he was pinned up against a wall, unable to do anything but watch as you faced your fate.

You were brought up to a much smaller glass door that shot open to reveal a space big enough for one person. You knew now, was that you were on the edge of the ship, and the name “ejection capsule” was starting to make a lot more sense.

They were going to send you out into space.

Jisung was still screaming for you, trying to break free to grab you, but you could see the number of people holding him back and you knew, there was no way he was going to be able to save you from this.

This was it. You were going to die. You couldn’t survive in space.

The head governor approached Jisung and grabbed his face to force it towards you.

“You will watch this.” He growled, his grip tight as iron. He held Jisung’s head towards you, and gave a nod to one of the guards.

Jisung cried out for you again, and you looked back at him.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, praying that he would understand.

Inside your stomach was turning at a million miles an hour and adrenaline was pumping through your body and you were trying with everything you had not to cry, but you couldn’t let Jisung feel guilty about this. He had tried so hard to keep you safe and it wasn’t his fault.

The guard turned back to the capsule, and pulled the level next to it. The door behind you opened and you shot out into the atmosphere.

The guards holding Jisung released him as he screamed and sank to the floor. He was on his hands and knees, crying and screaming out for you as you drifted further away from him into space.

Being weightless was a strange feeling, it was like floating on top of the water, but effortlessly. You had the urge to move your hand around, when the realisation hit you like a truck.

You were alive. And as well as that, you were breathing. You were breathing in space. But that isn’t possible, you couldn’t understand it. All you knew is that somehow, you were floating untethered in space and you were alive.

You managed to turn back to face the ship, and that’s when they saw you.

They all stared at you, none of them able to move from shock.

Jisung was the first one to react, and it gave him a chance. He ran to the door, and pulled on the level to open the glass doors. From there he could just about reach you.

Your hand drifted out, tiredness pulling at you as you tried to reach him too. God you were exhausted.

“Come on y/n, reach me.” Jisung pleaded, stretching out further. 

Eventually, he grabbed onto the ship tightly with one hand and jumped out of it to reach you. This gave him the final distance he needed to grab your hand and pull you in.

You floated towards him and he held onto your waist tight as you got back into the ship and the door closed behind you, causing gravity to take hold on you once again.

You collapsed in Jisung’s arms, and he fell to his knees holding you. Your vision went black as the world around you faded away.

Jisung frantically checked you over, but there was nothing to show you were in any distress. Even your pulse seemed strong. You were passed out in his lap, but there were a lot of unanswered questions.

Sadly, there was no time to discuss them as the guards wasted no time in grabbing you both again.

But the truth hung over everyone’s heads that day.

Not only was Jisung not alien anymore, you weren’t human.

viii. what are we?

You felt as if you were in a dream, completely dazed as you finally came to. Your memory was fuzzy, the details were a bit muddled and you couldn’t quite remember what had actually happened or what you had dreamt.

“Y/n?” You heard a muffled voice and as you struggled to force your eyes open, you saw a blurry figure above you.

Were you dead? Was this it?

“Y/n!” The voice was clearer now, and you recognised it as Jisung’s.

You tried to say something back but all that came out of you was a pained groan. You brought your arms behind you, in an attempt to pull yourself into a sitting position, but your whole body ached and they gave out immediately.

You would have smacked your head on the floor if Jisung hadn’t noticed what was happening and caught it last minute. He got his arms underneath you and pulled you up, resting you against a wall as he went to get you water.

Jisung handed you the cup, and you took a few gulps, feeling your strength come back to you as you did.

“Better?” He asked, his brow furrowing with worry and you nodded in response.

“What happened?” You croaked out, hoping that he may have some answers.

He let out a sigh, sliding down on the wall next to you, his feet planted on the floor and his knees up, close enough that your legs were touching.

“How much do you remember?” He asked quietly, and you thought for a second.

“I remember the trial, then getting pushed into this small room when...” You looked up at him with wide eyes as the memory came rushing back to you. “They pushed me out into space! I was left out there and I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t. How is that possible?”

“The same way it’s possible that I can blush and my hair doesn’t change colour anymore. We’ve changed. Somehow I’m not just an alien anymore and you’re not human.”

You weren’t sure how to react to what Jisung said.

“What does that mean ‘not human’?” You asked, but Jisung just shrugged sadly.

“I don’t know.” He turned to face you, his eyes watering. “I’m so sorry y/n. This is all my fault, if I had just let you be then none of this would have happened.”

“Hey...” You whispered comfortingly, bringing a hand up to cup the side of his face. “You have nothing to apologise for, you couldn’t have known that any of this was going to happen. This isn’t your fault, it’s theirs. I saw how you tried to protect me.”

“But I couldn’t.” He choked out, a tear tracing its way down his cheek and you shook your head.

“But you tried. That’s what mattered. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out, I thought- well I don’t know what I thought. But I’m sorry that I blamed you.”

Jisung leaned his head forward at your apology, resting his forehead on yours. He let his eyes flutter shut, breathing out a sigh of relief. His entire world was crashing down around him and the only thing that he cared about was that you were alive. 

“I guess you were right all along. They are going to abduct us for experiments.” He joked dejectedly, and you let out a sad smile.

“I’m always right, you should know that by now.” You teased. You leaned back on the wall, Jisung watching your movements with a heavy heart. “Is there anything we can do?” You asked, and he could hear the fear in your voice no matter how much you tried to hide it.

But he shook his head. “It’s hopeless. They’ve made up their minds and even if we broke out of here, there’s nowhere to go, we’d end up wandering the stars for eternity.”

“What do they think we are?” 

“They told me some things while you were unconscious. I don’t know why exactly but I guess it was about time we got some answers.” Jisung answered you, explaining as much as he could remember from the conversation. “Apparently, aliens and humans are like two branches of the same species. For example, like how doves and penguins are both birds even though they look different and work in different ways. We share almost exactly the same make up, but it’s our brain that’s different. Now it’s been so many generations that aliens don’t associate with humans as they don’t remember how we used to be alike.”

“So you were right in the end. But, why did we both change after spending time together?” You wondered.

“They seem to think that the more aliens learn about humans, the more human they become.” He said.

“That’s why the book was so inaccurate.” You realised, and Jisung nodded. “But, that still doesn’t explain me.”

“That’s where the experiments are going to come in...” He revealed, his voice trailing off at the end.

You looked up at the ceiling, the realisation of what your life is going to become, finally dawning on you.

“This is horrible.” You whispered. “They’re going to experiment until they figure out what parts of us are human and what are alien.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “And, I know it sounds completely insane but, if I was going to be stuck in a cell for the rest of my life, I’m happy it’s you.”

“Me too.” You agreed, smiling at Jisung’s words. “You’re the only person I want by my side here.”

Jisung tilted his head to the side, watching you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“I love you y/n.”

His confession made you snap your head towards him, checking to see if you heard correctly. But he was calm. For once in his life, Jisung wasn’t scared, he wasn’t shy, he wasn’t overthinking every possible outcome, he just loved you. And if he was going to die tomorrow, he wanted you to know that.

You two were sitting so close now that your noses were almost touching. Jisung was done being scared, he brought his hand up to the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he leant in for a tender kiss.

Finally, after all this time, all the waiting, the longing, the pining, the secret whispers, the hidden feeling, you finally kissed. The rest of the world faded away as he kissed you. It was as if nothing could touch you and for a second there it felt as though time actually stopped.

“I love you too Jisung.” You whispered to him, so quiet that not even the stars heard your confession.

Jisung wasn’t sure if he believed in soulmates but he definitely did now. There was no denying it. You were made for him and him for you. 

In that moment you both knew that no matter what happens next, you would be okay. Because you had each other.

ix. all the stories are true

“You’ve got three days. Then we begin.”

The words were still ringing in your head, even more so now that you knew you were on the final day. Tomorrow, the experiments would begin. The guards weren’t watching you 24/7 anymore, instead stationed outside in the hallway. They’d dropped off a few books each day, providing a small amount of entertainment, and your new selection had just arrived.

Selection was a generous word considering they gave you three books between the two of you, and Jisung knew them all already. Apparently, they’re recommended reading books during their school years.

‘So what’s this one?” You asked, holding up a large black book with white writing on it.

“That is a full detail of our history. It tells how our planet got destroyed and how we’ve adapted to living in ships and flying through the stars instead of settling.” Jisung explained and you flipped the book over, looking at the cover.

“Sounds interesting, I’d love to know more about your history.” You said. “Though they’re probably doing this to make me as ‘alien’ as possible before they start testing us.”

“Yeah, probably.” Jisung muttered. “Though I doubt they’re even looking at what they’re giving us. They’re probably grabbing from a pile and chucking them in here.”

The two of you both tried cracking small jokes, attempting to lighten or challenge the situation with humour, but the atmosphere was so heavy that it was almost impossible.

You grabbed the next one you saw, and held it up for Jisung. “This one?”

“Biography of our previous head of government. And probably the most boring thing I’ve ever read.” Jisung groaned at the sight of it.

You chuckled, throwing it back down into the small pile that had accumulated over the past three days. You crouched down, grabbing the final one. It was a smaller book, with a dark green leather cover on it and gold writing on the front that was partially rubbed off with age. The title read “The Forgotten Land.” You opened it, the smell of the old book gently surrounding you as the aged pages stared back at you. You handled it with care, knowing that too much force might damage it.

“What’s this?” You asked, gently closing the book and showing it to Jisung.

He looked up, but brushed off the answer with a simple “That’s just an old legend.”

You looked back at the book, your fingers tracing out the delicate lettering on the front when you heard Jisung saying something to himself.

“Wait a second... That’s- Wait a second!”

Before you knew it Jisung was looking over your shoulder, staring down at the book. You held it up, looking at him quizzically.

“Do you want to read it?”

He took your offer, taking the book and flipping through the pages, skim-reading it as he went. He finally stopped on a certain page, his finger tracing under the sentence he was reading before slamming it shut with a triumphant shout.

“Are you okay?” The question slipped out of your lips at Jisung’s erratic behaviour. 

He spun around to look at you, his face alight with excitement. Jisung’s mind was running at a million miles an hour, because if he was right about this, he might have just saved you. And for once, he wouldn’t have failed at protecting you.

“This legend, we used to read it when we were children. They would read it to us in school, and every alien child knows this story. But, I don’t think this is just a story. Because a myth is more than just a tale. It often hides the essence of a true story. This story talks about how our true form is a halfway point between alien and human, and how these will be brought out of us to help us achieve who we are truly meant to be. This isn’t just a legend. It’s the legend we’re currently living.”

You gasped at this, jogging towards him and taking the book from his out-stretched hand. You opened it, reading through as fast as you could. You came to stop on a certain page.

“This says that each of us has a fated soulmate... And only that person brings out the hidden side to us.” You looked up at Jisung, only to find him already looking at you. “Would that mean...” You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence from the way Jisung was looking at you.

It was as if you could see the love he had for you in his eyes. 

“We don’t know how much of the book is true but...” Jisung’s voice faded away as he abandoned the end of his sentence.

Enough was said from the way the two of you were looking at each other, you didn’t need to say it out loud. If this part of you the book was true, you and Jisung had been destined to find each other.

It made sense to him now, how he hadn’t been able to explain why he chose you to help him, and why he’d found himself more able to be himself around you in such a short amount of time than he had with people he’d known his entire life.

Things were adding up for you as well. You understood how it was so easy for you to say yes to staying with him, and how you’d felt so far away from home when you came back to Earth. 

You and Jisung were destined to find each other.

“So what happens now?” You asked tentatively. “I mean, this is incredible but we don’t even know if it is real, and on top of that, there’s no way to find this and we have a day until we’re taken from here.”

“I know.” Jisung said. “But I think we should try to find it.”

Now that got your attention.

“What? Did you not hear what I said? It might not be real. And where would we even start?” Question after question was thrown at him, but still a grin grew on Jisung’s lips.

“I’m not staying here for them to experiment on us. Not a chance. I’ve found the one person who I need in my life, and I’m not letting them choose what happens to us. I would rather get lost in the stars trying to find a better place for us than give up and let them take us.” Jisung had never been so sure of anything. He wouldn’t give up on this. He wouldn’t give up on you.

It wasn’t fair that these were your choices. But Jisung was done with fair, he was done with choosing between options that sucked, he wanted to take back some control, for once he wanted to be able to protect you.

“Jisung...” You breathed. “I’ll follow you anywhere. But how do we get off here? There are guards in the hallways and, I know we can survive in space but I don’t think us floating around is really a stealthy getaway.”

Jisung simply grinned even wider. “I’ve got a plan.”

x. run until we’re lost

“I don’t like this plan.” You muttered, pacing back and forth. “I really don’t like this plan.”

“I know. But it’s the only one we’ve got. Besides, we have nothing to lose.” Jisung shrugged.

If he was being honest, he had very little faith in his flimsy plan as well, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. It would take a miracle for the two of you to get off this ship with your lives, but, hey a miracle brought you into his life so he had to believe in them.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded, sending up a silent prayer knowing it was now or never.

Jisung nodded back at you, sending you a comforting look before he suddenly collapsed to the floor. You repeatedly whacked your hands against the wall dramatically, screaming for help.

The guards came running, sluggishly stumbling into the cells. You pointed down at Jisung still yelling incoherently.

“What happened?” One of the guards asked.

“I don’t know.” You cried. The tears began to fall easily down your face from how scared you were of the whole situation. “He just collapsed and he’s not waking up and I don’t know what to do!”

“We need to get someone.” The second guard said but the first one shook his head rapidly.

“We were meant to be watching them! How will we explain that we fell asleep!” The first one snapped back, before suddenly looking back at you. “Move aside.”

You did, still hyperventilating and crying as they walked towards Jisung. You waited until they had both walked past you before shoving the smaller guard as hard as you could in the back, sending his stumbling over Jisung’s legs. Without wasting a second you deftly delivered a hard kick to the back of the left knee of the other guard.

He went flying as well, still drowsy from sleep and completely taken by surprise at your attack.

Jisung sprung up at the commotion, not hesitating a second before grabbing you and sprinting for the door. He got you there before turning around and pressing random buttons on the control panel.

“Come on.” You urged and Jisung desperately hit them trying to find the right one. He eventually opened up a new menu, clicking on the blue hexagonal shape just as the guards picked themselves up.

A beep sounded and the doors slammed shut, locking with a resounding click and the two of you looked at each other in amazement, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s phase one.” Jisung said excitedly. Maybe this plan would actually work. “But we won’t have long before those two gain attention so we need to run.”

You nodded and the two of you took off down the hallways. This whole process was going faster than you thought it would. Jisung had told you that you needed to head to the navigation room to get the maps and then the escape pods. According to him there were smaller ships that you could take and escape in.

You ran down the halls, your heart beating faster than your feet were moving. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins as Jisung led you through the maze of corridors.

“Okay.” He said, skidding to a stop so suddenly that you almost ran into the back of him. “We need to cause a distraction to evacuate the navigation room.”

“Like pulling a fire alarm or something?” You asked.

“Kind of.” Jisung said. “But something that is going to keep them busy for longer... like cutting the lights. The electrical room is right next to it.”

“And we can use the vents to go to the next room.” You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at your own joke.

“Yes we could!” Jisung grabbed your hand and took off again.

You were taken completely by surprise. Apparently Among Us was more accurate than you thought.

Jisung turned a sharp corner and burst through a door that led you into the electrical room. He pointed out a vent on the floor, telling you that if you went through there it should take you to navigation.

“How do we cut the power?” You wondered, completely overwhelmed by the huge number of wires in front of you.

“I don’t actually know.” Jisung mumbled.

“Maybe just pull the main switch.” You offered, only to be responded to with a confused look. “There. It’s like a giant switch that should shut off power to the whole place.”

“That will draw attention.” Jisung mentioned and you nodded.

“Probably. But so will the guards shouting for help in our cell. At least it may make running through the ship easier as we’d be harder to recognise in the dark.” You proposed.

Jisung went up to the switch, grabbing it with his right hand. “It’s our only option.” And with that he pulled it.

For a second nothing happened. Your heart began to beat faster again, a feeling you had become all to familiar with.

Then, everything went black.

“Wow. That’s darker than I was expecting.” He said. Jisung rubbed his eyes, trying to get them used to the new light enough for him to see you.

Once he saw an outline of your body he reached for your hand, slipping his gently into it. You jumped slightly when he made contact but the feeling of him rubbing his thumb on the back of your interlocked hands provoked a rush of calmness through your chest.

He tugged on your hand slightly. “Let’s go.”

You let Jisung lead you through the room, hearing the vent be pulled open. He climbed in first, offering you a helping hand. The vent was bigger than you were expecting, so big you could stand if you bent over slightly. 

As a second thought, you reached up and pulled it shut after you. Then you followed him down the tunnel. You tried to run as quietly as possible, but the metal clanged underneath your feet and all you could do was pray that it wasn’t heard from anywhere else.

It wasn’t long before Jisung pushed open another vent and you poured out into a small room.

“There’s normally only one or two of us in here, so I’m not surprised it’s empty.” He explained. “Grab as many maps as you can.

You wasted no time, placing multiple pieces of paper on top of each other and folding them over and over again to hold them together. You knew you didn’t have long. 

But when you reached for the last map you could see, something fell off it and onto the floor. You crouched down, grabbing the small object and held it up. You couldn’t quite make out what it was, but gradually you recognised the feeling of it. 

It was your necklace. Your eyes had adjusted a lot better by now and you could see the chain lightly hitting your hand as the paper plane sat between your fingers. You couldn’t believe it.

You looked back at the map and your jaw dropped again. It was your city. This must have been when they were trying to find you. You traced your fingers over where your home was, thinking of what your life used to be. You hoped everyone would be okay. And you wondered if you would ever make it back.

At least time moved slowly there in comparison to up here. It had probably barely been a minute since you had been taken.

After thinking about it for a second, you grabbed that map as well. You never knew when you might need it.

“Ready?” You looked up, seeing Jisung looking down at a particular map as well. You walked over to him. “Jisung?”

Jisung swallowed. This map had hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

“This is our planet. Where I came from. I thought it was destroyed and that’s why we are travelling around but this is dated as two years ago.” He didn’t know what this meant. Was his home still intact? He was told it was hit by an asteroid and became uninhabitable due to the atmospheric changes that were caused but this map was making him question everything he ever thought he knew.

“Jisung, bring it with you. Fold it up but we have to move.” You shook him gently, trying to get through to him.

Jisung nodded, messily folding the paper and pushing it into the small pile he was holding. He grabbed your free hand with his and began to run again.

You ran through the hallways, trying not to get spotted by anyone but people were running everywhere. They were trying to reach the electrical room but there seemed to be some kind of commotion outside it.

“I blocked the door from the inside.” Jisung leaned down to you and whispered in your ear. “That should buy us some time.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand as a signal to go. If they knew the problem was in the electrical room then it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out you two were behind it.

“How far?” You asked between breaths.

“Down this hall and to the left, then down the stairs.” Jisung explained.

Thankfully, the left turn came up fast and the two of you thundered down the stairs, jumping down the last three.

Jisung let go of your hand and handed you his pile of maps as he set to work organising an escape pod.

“Thank god I actually listened in engineering class.” He muttered to himself, thankful that his teacher had found a way to get through to him. It was the only subject that he had enjoyed and the one that he had hoped to go into once graduating.

He fiddled with the controls, overriding one of the ships and instructing you to go inside. 

Just as he did that the lights came back on, blinding the two of you as they shone in your eyes

“They’ve escaped!” A voice echoed down the hallway and you and Jisung looked at each other in fear.

“Go!” He whisper-yelled at you, pushing you into the ship.

You climbed in the hatch, going down the ladder and landing on the floor. Jisung closed the hatch behind him, locking it with a twist and took off down the hallway again.

You followed him. While this ship was easily miles smaller than the previous one, it was still big for the two of you and took a solid minute of running to get to the front.

Jisung opened a door and you burst into what you assumed to be the front of the ship. There were two seats facing a large window and a maze of buttons on the control desk. Lucking Jisung seemed to know what he was doing.

“They have to know that we’re going for one of these.” Jisung said, pressing the buttons to start the ship as fast as he could. You put the maps down on the seat that Jisung wasn’t stood next to before stepping back to get out of his way. The buttons lit up in front of you and the ship hummed to life. “We’re ready.” He whispered as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

“Jisung!” You suddenly said and he spun back in a panic, thinking you had been caught. “Are you sure? I just want to make sure you’re one hundred percent sure you want to do this.”

“I am.” He said with such confidence that it was almost hard for you to believe it was the same awkwardly shy alien you met all that time ago. “If you’re sure as well?”

You nodded in response and he stepped forward and stroked your hair.

“There’s no going back y/n.”

“I know. You’ve gotten braver since we first met.” You told him, resting your hands on his sides.

“I’ve got something to be brave for.” He confided, leaning down to kiss you sweetly.

You didn’t think you could ever get tired of Jisung kissing you.

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll travel the stars forever.” The words came from your heart, and Jisung said the two words you’d heard multiple times today from him, but this time they caused excitement to run through you instead of fear.

“Let’s go.”

You were done being afraid.

Down you sat in the seat, staring out at the vast, never-ending space in front of you. You didn’t know what you were anymore. You were too human for outer space, but too alien for Earth. And you were going to spend your days walking through two worlds but belonging to neither.

Just as the legend intended.

Jisung pushed a level forward and the ship dropped down before taking off. He turned it to the side and you saw the huge spaceship you had been held captive in to your right. The two of you watched it for a second, but you didn’t want to stay so, once again, Jisung pushed forward and you shot off into the stars.

“We’re going to get lost.” You said breathlessly, as he nodded in agreement.

“Yep. But you have to be lost to find a place that can’t be found.”

His words brought a smile to your face, and you looked over at him to find him grinning into the sky as well. You found a notch in the ceiling and reached up to hang your necklace from it. It had meant so much to the both of you that it only made sense to have it close.

“Hey.” You called for his attention, and he looked over at you. “I love you.”

His grin grew even more into the huge gummy smile that you adored.

“I love you too.”

Together, the two of you shot off into the stars, searching for the forgotten land you were destined to find. With nothing but a few maps, and the paper plane hanging from the ceiling guiding your way.

#park jisung #nct jisung fluff #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #park jisung imagines #jisung imagines #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct jisung imagines #nct dream jisung imagines #jisung #park jisung angst #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct #nct dream #nct reactions #nct dream reactions

[the-creator-undertale-au]

David x Yuki

Friends ? Ships ? Who know :)

Dullie x Jaller children

((O_o oh no... I've forget to paint David's arm, their pull-over is supposed to be black not purple))

David - Allie x Dust's (non-binary) child

@cookie12sposts

Yuki - Jaja x Kille's daugther

@/hanseokkristarleon

#my art #the creator #undertale au #fanchild #killer x jaja #jaller #jaller ship #jaller child #yuki #dust x allie #allie x dust #dullie ship #dullie #dullie child #david #yuki x david #david x yuki #killertale #dusttale

[grandlinedreams]

Will I tire of sending Law requests? Never. So bare with me.

Law meets a girl on an island and they hit it off. She wants to go with him, but he says the sea is too dangerous for her. And he admits he likes her before taking off.

Instead of being broken hearted, she takes this as motivation to go out to sea and find him.

After months she finds him, and after slapping him into the next century, she tells him she likes him too. And maybe after some fluff, maybe have her mention not being left behind because “there’s only so many times you can handle being slapped by me”

Hiya!! I can absolutely do this minus the slapping ghlkjadf

Notes: reader has Ruby's weapon from rwby bc why not even though I've not seen that in years

[heads up!: afab/fem aligned reader, fluff, some silliness, angst, cursing, implied drinking]

You've been out on the sea six months.

One hundred and eighty-two days ㅡ down to the exact day. Gone is the rickety sloop you'd ventured from your home on ㅡ and you'd bartered, sweet-talked, and bargained your way into a ship far better than that.

You've even made a name for yourself, though it's been through some odd mix of unfortunate circumstance and luck ㅡ but you're still no closer to your goal.

Because you're not looking for something, you're looking for someone. And that in and of itself is a drop in the bucket because there are a thousand places he could be, and a thousand that he couldn't.

But as with all places that you stop at, you have to start somewhere ㅡ and so you start at the local bar. It's the best place, after all ㅡ liquored mouths tend to talk the loudest, and you're good at listening.

ㅡ

"You're not from around here, are ya?"

You smile against the rim of your drink before you set it down, watching the ice cubes clink. "What gave it away?"

"The fact ya aren't absolutely trashed off yer rocker," your new companion snickers. He's an older man somewhere in the range of salt and pepper hair and a couple of wrinkles that deep when he grins. "And that ship of yours out at the harbor."

You blink and shift in your seat, letting your fingers drift over the rectangular metal pack at your thigh.

"Relax, missy. Not lookin' for trouble." Your companion eyes you. "Ya must be lookin' for someone if yer here though."

You pick your drink up, sipping from it carefully. "You're right, I am." Your new friend watches as you turn to rummage in your pocket, producing a worn, battered piece of paper and unfolding it.

It's a wanted poster, creases made for how often you've shown it ㅡ and you point to the photo. "Have you seen this man?"

Your companion leans back, humming thoughtfully. "I think I saw 'im a couple days ago. He 'n his crew were stopping for supplies at the next island, I think. But isn't heㅡ"

"Thank-you," you say, folding the paper up and tucking it away before you toss a handful of beri onto the table and stand. "For the drink, and for you. You've been very helpful."

The man watches you go, then glances down at the beri, metal shining dully in the light. "What's a bounty hunter want with a war lord?"

ㅡ

You arrive at the next island by mid-afternoon the next day. Hungry and more than a little exhausted, your mood is far from stellar when you step foot on the dock.

"First food, then a nap, then I'll ask around," you mumble to yourself as you stretch, stifling a yawn. "He's turning into more trouble than I bargained for..."

Part of you often wonders what you're even doing ㅡ leaving your home behind, embarking entirely alone on the basis of talking to someone who'd left you without so much as a goodbye.

Correction, he had ㅡ and it'd sucked.

"Who leaves somebody with 'if it were safer I'd take you with me but it's dangerous no matter how I feel' as a goodbye? That sucked shit!" You grouse, kicking at a loose stone. "Trafalgar Law, you're a jerk."

And a warlord, apparently ㅡ he'd forgotten to mention that. And you suppose you have to commend yourself ㅡ most girls in your situation would probably have sulked and moped, maybe stared out at the sea like a grief stricken widow.

You, on the other hand, had simply sulked for two days before scowling and stomping out of your house and declaring that you were going to track the jerk down and demand an apology and a proper confession because that one sucked.

Six months and a growing reputation as a bounty hunter (whoops) later, here you are. Starving, tired, and desperately hoping Law and his crew are still here.

You're not sure what to do if they aren't. Will you keep chasing him, doom yourself to an eternal game of cat and mouse? You're not even sure he feels the way he had before, or if he'd ever felt that way in the first place ㅡ what if it'd just been to placate you?

No, you don't need to fall into that line of thinking ㅡ you're just tired, that's all. And hungry.

You trudge your way towards the nearest restaurant, footsteps heavy as you stagger your way to a table and slap a handful of beri down when a waiter approaches you. "Whatever is the recommended meal, please."

If there's judgement about how bedraggled you must look (if you look how you feel), you don't hear it ㅡ nor do you care.

Once your stomach has stopped rumbling enough to suggest that it's gnawing on itself, you find the energy to look around, catching the handful of wanted posters tacked to a board near the door.

If nothing else, at least you have means to continue that turn of events. Once your meal is finished, you leave a tip and stand, snagging one of the posters on your way out.

Certain that you haven't noticed them, a pair of men stand a few minutes after you leave, sharing a look before they move to follow you.

ㅡ

You notice the pair following you in under five minutes. For starters, they're nowhere near as sneaky as they think they are ㅡ and while your observation skills need refining, you're not completely without them.

"Alright, you two." You come to a stop, hand at your thigh, ready to engage the metal pack with a single touch. "What do you want?"

"You're a bounty hunter," one of them starts, eyeing you warily. "We've seen your face before."

"Really," you answer dryly. "Good for you. I'm not in the mood for small fry, so if you leave now, I'll pretend I didn't see you."

You really, truly are not in the mood to deal with these two ㅡ you're tired damn it, you want to sleep.

You hear the click of a gun cocking, and you sigh as you press the shallow button ㅡ and watch as your weapon springs to life with a series of sleek metallic clicks. "Alright," you sigh, "you asked for it."

ㅡ

"Excuse me," you say, voice strained for the effort it takes to haul the two unconscous knuckleheads behind you and prop them up against the kickboard of the bar counter. "Two questions. Where is an inn or a hotel or something, and where can I turn these two in for their bounty?"

The bartender blinks at you, then at the unconscious (and lightly bleeding) pair behind you. "Uh..."

Across the room, however, you're being watched again. This time not from small time pirates or thugs. Rather, a set of golden eyes lock on you, trying to parse out where he knows you from ㅡ and then narrowing when it hits him.

Several sets of eyes lock on him as he stands, somewhere between confusion and concern as he weaves around tables, intent on reaching you.

A fist in the back of your shirt is not what you expect ㅡ nor is the abrupt lurch backwards, making you windmill your arms to keep your balance, only to lose it anyways as you're hauled towards the exit.

"Hey!" You snap, squirming to free yourself with one hand as the other goes to deploy your weapon, "what is your problem?"

"My problem," a familiar voice says as they stop, "is that you're here."

You bristle as you wrench free, narrowed eyes sweeping up to lock with gold, blazing beneath a very familiar cap, spotted with the motif of a snow leopard.

And after six months of searching, you've found Trafalgar Law.

ㅡ

Law stares at you, wholly unchanged since you last saw him save for the look of irritation on his face. "Explain."

Of all the places he'd thought to see you again, it wasn't here ㅡ because truthfully, he hadn't been expecting to ever see you again at all. He'd left you in your tiny island town, turned, and refused to look back.

"Explain what?" Your head tips, and his teeth grit.

"This," he says, waving at the cruel curve of metal that arcs over your head from the metal pole in your hand, "and what you're doing here."

You still, and the playful glimmer in your eyes snuffs out like a candle. "What I'm doing here?" You laugh, the sound incredulous and tinted with a hint of hysteria. "What I'm doing here? I was looking for you!"

Law tenses. "For me? Why?"

"Because, you asshole," you snarl, eyes blazing, "you broke my heart!"

ㅡ

"Did you really leave her like that captain? That's cold."

Law's eyes flick to Penguin. "Eavesdropping is an awful habit to pick up."

Penguin shrugs. "We weren't, she was yelling at you pretty loud."

And you had ㅡ close to shrieking as you'd poured out every frustration over the last six months trying to find him, and what he'd done to incite it.

And then you'd cried. One tear, then two ㅡ hiccuping as you tried to stem the flow, weapon put away in favor of pressing your palms to your eyes.

Law had seen no other option but to bring you back to where he and the others were staying, chest aching for the rough way you'd yanked from his touch and retreated to one of the rooms ㅡ his room, ironically.

"What are you going to do?" Bepo watches him, and Law wonders what exactly they're expecting him to do as he sighs and stands, heading for his room.

"What I have to."

ㅡ

"Go away."

Law stares at your back as he steps into the room, watches you tense as he shuts the door. "We need to talk."

"I told you to go away."

"This is my room, technically." He approaches, perching himself on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to talk to me, but listen."

"Why should I?"

"Just listen to me, damn it!" He pauses and then tries again, softer. "Please."

You still won't look at him. "Fine."

Law sighs, trying to collect his thoughts before he says something that will get him into even deeper trouble with you. Had he meant what he said before he left? Yes, he had ㅡ but he hadn't meant for it to be an invitation for you to come find him.

"I'm...sorry. For leaving you the way that I did. But I stand by the fact the sea is dangerousㅡ"

"Made it just fine on my own so far."

Law bites his tongue, pushes back the snappy retort that you'd gotten lucky so far. Even though it's clear you have your own skillset, and that you can hold your own.

Maybe he'd been wrong.

"You'll get yourself killed if you're alone." He doesn't want that, it's the very reason he left you there ㅡ that you'd be safe. "Which is why," he continues before you can snap back, "...I want you to come with me."

You shift, and your eyes lock. "What?"

"Come with me," he repeats. "My crew. On the Polar Tang."

You sit upright. "You better not be saying that to get me to forgive you, Trafalgar Law. It's going to take a lot more thanㅡ"

He snatches your wrist, yanking you in for a clumsy kiss that you pull away from quickly.

"Seriously?" You eye him, then turn away with a huff. "If I join you, I have two conditions."

He raises an eyebrow. "And those are?"

"You still owe me for that shitty and now that shitty kiss. This isn't a romance novel, you jerk."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered. #this took so fucking long i'm sorry

[iamnmbr3]

Alphard: Tom and I are made for each other. We finish each other's-

Bellatrix: Murders?

Tom: -sentences. Why would you say murders? I wouldn't need help to finish a murder.

Alphard: Exactly! Wait what? Tom, did you kill someone?

Tom: :)

Alphard: Tell me that was a hypothetical.

Tom *deadpan*: That was a hypothetical.

Alphard: Tom, no! I'm not helping you get rid of the body!

Tom: Yes. I thought we'd just established that.

#Alphard: *stares dully* #tom riddle/alphard black #why are the only shipnames for this that i can think of ridiculous things like Tophie or StarLord? #help i've fallen down in the tom/alphie ship and i can't get up. jk i don't need help. come join me. #Tom Riddle #alphard black #Voldemort #Harry Potter #random musings #alphard black/tom riddle #Alphalord

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

Hi,  so I saw your request for ideas for day 31 and I was thinking, and what do you think about a

Minsung date night like u know just Han is really tired that dose not want to go out

so its like a movie night

but then lee know wants to keep han awake and starts to tickle him so he’ll stay up

or the other way around it’s lee know who’s getting tickled it up to you

i hope i helped a little bit ❤️

Day 31: Aftercare

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾

𝖙𝖜: MINSUNG, hurt/comfort, date night

I DO NOT SHIP THESE IDOLS IRL!!! This is all fiction 💗💗💗

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @dandyboyseungmo @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @minsungisvreal

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾

“I’m home!” Lee Know yelled, walking into the living room. 

“How are you, baby? Dance practice was rough.” Minho looked down at the bundle of blankets, his boyfriend’s face peeking out. 

“M’kay.” Han replied dully. 

Lee Know frowned. Something was wrong. “What’s wrong? Don’t even think about lying-” He looked down, only then noticing the tear-stained face of the younger. 

“Hey. Hey, why are you crying. What’s wrong?” He crouched down by the boy before wiping his face.

“Nothing, hyung. I just feel really anxious and I don’t know what to do about it.” Jisung sniffed. 

Lee Know immediately wrapped his arms around the boy, ready to cheer him up. 

“Date night? Wanna go out?” He asked, turning Jisung’s head with his hand so that the younger actuallylooks at his face.

“Mmm…Can we stay at home? I’m tired.” Hannie hummed. 

“Okay. Let me take a shower and we can watch this movie i’ve wanted to see for a REALLY long time-” Minho rambled, boba eyes sparkling as he clasped his hands together. 

“Okay.” Jisung grinned at the dancer, who picked up his favourite hoodie and a pair of shorts. 

   ••••••••••••» [Want so Bad] «••••••••••••

   ••••••• 0:43 ─〇───── 3:23 ••••••

    ••••••••• ⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻ ••••••••••

“Hey…Hannie stay awake it’s the good part!” Minho squealed as Jisung tried his hardest to keep his eyes open. 

It wasn’t that the movie wasn’t good, he was just unable to stay awake. Or focused, for that matter. 

Jisung looked up at his boyfriend. The older was just so…genuinely happy at the moment. 

It made the ace’s eyes well up, and the sleepiness just made it worse.

Meanwhile, Minho had been noticing the younger nodding off for quite a while now, and he knew that if his boyfriend could stay awake for just a few more minutes, he would probably enjoy the movie. 

Lee Know had also noticed the tears brimming in his eyes as he looked at him. 

He wondered what could have made the younger so upset. 

Time for cheer up. The bunny was well aware of how ticklish his boyfriend really was, but he never really got the chance to exploit it. Until now. 

Minho’s attention had been fully taken off the movie. Now he was interested in seeing the younger smile. 

He suddenly slipped his hands underneath the boy’s shirt, scribbling over his waist. 

Jisung immediately jolted awake, biting his lip to keep from laughing as he tried to stop the older’s hands. 

“hyuhuhung! thahahat tihihickles!” He giggled out, throwing his head back as he continued to fight the invasive hands. 

“Tsk tsk, you know how much I wanted to see this movie. Why couldn’t you stay awake?” Lee Know asked in mock annoyance. 

“ihihim sohohohorry! ihihill stahahay awahake! stohop tihihickling mehehe!” Hannie continued to laugh as Minho’s hands moved upwards towards his armpits. 

The younger immediately slammed his arms down, leaning backwards into Minho as he continued to tickle him. 

Any thoughts that Jisung had were gone as the tickles took over his brain entirely, leaving his mind a fuzzy daze. 

It felt kinda nice. 

“Hannie~are you enjoying this?” Lee Know cooed as he sped up his hands on the ace’s torso. 

“YEHEHEA!” Han cackled cutely as Minho massaged circles quickly into the sensitive skin. 

“Aweee! That’s cute! Mind if I continue?” Minho laughed when Jisung blushed a bright  red, hiding his face in his hands and making no effort to stop the older. 

He did shake his head, though.

Lee Know had to stop himself from squealing from the younger’s cuteness. 

“You. Are the cutest person EVER!” Minho accentuated the last word by sticking his hands into the ace’s armpits. 

“HAHAHA NOHO TEHEASING!” Jisung beamed up at the older through his uncontrollable laughter. 

Hannie shook his head as he cackled, his hair flying and fluffing up as he did so. 

Minho made sure to go light, wanting the moment to last longer, which the younger certainly appreciated. 

Until Minho started moving lower. The older wanted to find his boyfriend’s worst spot, for…reasons.

Jisung screamed with laughter the second Minho’s fingers began working into his thighs, thrashing around with the widest gummy smile. 

“Is this your worst spot?” Lee Know kept asking, moving further down every time the quokka shook his head. 

Lee Know suddenly had a feeling. He knew which spot was the worst.

So he saved it for last. 

Minho immediately headlocked Han’s feet and went to town, laughing as the younger absolutely howled with laughter, slamming his hands into Lino’s back. 

“HYUNG! HYUHUHUNG! THAHAT TIHIHICKLES SOHO BAHAHAHAHAD!” Hannie screeched, grabbing at the older’s hair weakly as he squirmed. 

Lee Know decided to give the quokka a well deserved break, sitting up and kissing the boy’s cheek, which was wet with tears. 

“ha…ha…did I ask you to stop…?” Jisung breathed out. 

Minho’s entire body froze up. Then his face split into a wide smile. 

“That is SOOO CUTE!” He squealed.

Jisung giggled as Lino showered his whole face in kisses, his fingers digging into his waist as he did so. 

Hannie squealed when the dancer flipped his whole body over and scribbled into the back of his knees, immediately throwing the younger into hysterics. 

“HAHAHAH! IHIHIT’S SOHO BAAHAHA-” Han fell into silent laughter as he felt the older’s lips connect to the back of his knees in a raspberry. 

After multiple raspberries, Minho decided to let up, not wanting to kill his boyfriend. 

He immediately snuggled into the younger, who was pleased with this moment of aftercare. 

“Do you feel better?” Lino asked, making sure to treat his baby with cheek kisses. 

“mhmmm” Jisung puffed his cheeks out, making Minho laugh and kiss him more. 

“The movie is over.” Hannie pouted at the tv, disappointed that the older didn’t get to watch what he wanted to. 

“Nah. Tickling you was way more fun.” Minho laughed when the ace let out a squeak at the word. 

Minho made sure to snuggle into the younger as much as possible, the thick hoodie enveloping the two in warmth. 

He made sure to treat the younger to ice cream later, both as a reward, and for the aftercare that the younger deserved.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ☽◯☾

i hope you enjoyed this fic! have a spooky october! ✨🎃

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #sana’s tickletober

[pearlescentpearl]

Political Pawn AU 2

You can find Post 1 here.

Findekáno does not go to bed

Turukáno finds him brooding on the lake shore, stone eyed and tense

“You’re rethinking things you ought not rethink,” Turukáno says, though he knows it is in vain

“I am trying not to,” Findekáno tells him, folding his arms tighter against the wind. “Whatever he did, it doesn’t change the outcome. Those who suffered still suffered. Those who died still died. I can think better of him for trying to speak on our behalf before the betrayal became irreversible, but not for helping kick it off by taking the ships at Araman, nor his foolishness in thinking the situation would be otherwise.”

And he does think a great deal better of Russandol, for trying. Fëanáro’s wrath had proven no small thing to risk. He failed to stop what he himself abetted, and in his failure rested the horror of trekking the Helcaraxë

But still, knowing someone tried to protest, knowing someone didn’t forget them, that Russandol didn’t forget him...

It’s something

“Father and Aunt are already embroiled in plans for how to use this,” Turukáno says dully, settling next to him on the grassy bank. “I left because I couldn’t stand listening them anymore.”

“What are they thinking?” Findekáno asks, half-fearing the answer. Too many have waited too long for the slightest crack in Fëanáro’s defensive stubbornness, and the feud the eldest sons of Finwë wage has always driven them to unreasonable heights. He doesn’t delude himself into thinking the next move won’t be stunningly vicious

“Father’s hoping to foment Fëanáro’s own people against him by suggesting Nelyafinwë is the only of their House deserving of the crown, seeing as he doesn’t agree with abandoning his people,” Turukáno says bitterly. “He’s hoping it will galvanize those who didn’t agree with their traitor king’s actions into... I don’t know, forcing Fëanáro to do something about them.”

Findekáno huffs a disbelieving laugh, voice cracking. “The man is being tortured in Angamando, and Father would make him king? What is he thinking? This is going to rend the Noldor worse than we already are!”

It wouldn’t just be the Fëanárian Faction tearing into itself over this, it would be their own people too. What cohesiveness they’d held onto all this time would dissolve as the question of Russandol’s actions and what they were worth became a Kindred-wide debate

In Valinor they could get away with that. On Angamando’s doorstep?

Death would come for them in their distraction

“You know how Father gets when Fëanáro’s involved,” Turukáno says, and they share such a look of deep commiseration

“I also know how you get about Nelyafinwë,” Turukáno continues, and Findekáno hunches his shoulders. “You’re just like Father, you know. Not an ounce of objectivity in either of you.”

“I am trying to be better,” Findekáno protests defensively. “I know I... I ruined so much acting out of love instead of wisdom.”

“You are not the only,” Turukáno says heavily, “who has made ruinous choices out of love.”

“I think, at some point, we two, it stopped being about love and more about pride,” Findekáno whispers. “It was love when I raised a sword at Alqualondë. It was pride when I helped them steal the ships; too much pride to stop and repent when I learned the truth.”

“I should hit you for being right,” Turukáno sighs, leaning back on his hands. “I can not separate the love from the pride since the Darkening. I only know we, none of us, acted with wisdom when we had the chance. And now we must live with it, and hope to be wiser in the tribulations to come.”

“Like this harebrained plan of Father’s. He’s not going to get reparations if he’s just going back to undermining Fëanáro. I want to tear the man down from his high horse as much as anyone, but I’m so sick of the feud, Turvo. Hasn’t it taken enough from us?”

“It will only stop taking when we all stop feeding it.”

“Might as well ask the both of them to starve themselves.”

“Hah!” Turukáno laughs. “That will be the day!” A pause to let the mist billow by. “Brother. You’re thinking about doing something.”

Findekáno doesn’t deny it. “Someone has to check Father’s worst impulses.”

“Whatever you do,” Turukáno says, “I beg you. Act from love. Not pride. I can forgive you for love. I am not sure how much more I can for pride. For anyone.”

“Even yourself?”

“Perhaps especially myself.”

Findekáno leans over to bump his forehead to his brother’s. “For love,” he agrees. Leaning back, he admires the sight of the unvarnished stars, Rána in its dark phase. “If anyone should ask, tell them I left early on patrol.”

“And if I should ask?”

“I will say only that I promise to return.”

“Heartening.”

In the morning, Turukáno indeed tells any who ask that his brother is on patrol, though he is sure to put up his most dour of expressions to dissuade any who might try to ask him. Easy enough, with the speech his Father starts the morning with

Itarillë, nearly full grown now, finds him halfway through and threads her fingers in his

Glancing down, he finds her pensive, brow furrowed in a mirror of his own expression

She was born during Fëanáro’s exile. Half her life has been spent on the Helcaraxë. She only knows her half-relations through stories, and glimpses during the march to Araman. They are as strangers to her. He wonders what she makes of this speech upholding a man she would only ever have heard cursed

He feels her mind brush against his, a wisp of winter wind carrying the scent of evergreens

The townsfolk are listening, she tells him

And do they agree? He asks

Her head turns to regard the mingled Lestorodrim and Fëanárian Loyalists. Some of them, maybe. The Lestorodrim have minds as girdled as their homes, but ultimately Noldor matters are Noldor matters to them. The Fëanárians are... split. I see much shame and regret in them

Not so much they’ll act on it of their own volition, Turukáno retorts. He recognizes the pride that refuses to humble itself in the face of wrongdoing as easily as he sees it in his mirror

He’s not blind. He sees the shame in their faces too

If they want forgiveness they’ll have to humble themselves first

Itarillë elbows him

Following her intent gaze he sees one of the Ambarussa in the crowd, face going pale and intent

“Which one is that one?” She murmurs

It’s difficult to gauge at this distance, what with the mist making everything perpetually damp, but he thinks that dark shade of red denotes Pityafinwë, the elder twin

“Well,” Turukáno murmurs back. “Your grandfather has garnered the attention he wanted.”

“But is it the attention the rest of us need?”

“That remains to be seen.”

As Finwë-Ñolofinwë wraps up his speech on Fëanáro’s flaws as a leader so far (many), Nelyafinwë’s virtues in comparison (anyone would come out smelling like roses compared to Fëanáro), and the obvious disregard of the people’s will displayed in Fëanáro’s refusal to repent, Amabarussa takes off to Barad Eithel

They would have Fëanáro’s response soon

It will be ugly. Turukáno doesn’t need foresight to predict that

“What do you think of all this, Father?” Itarillë asks, jarring him out of his dire thoughts

“I spent far too many times telling you as a child that it’s important that you tried, even when you failed,” Turukáno says after a moment. “Sometimes, especially when you failed. I am loathe to make a mockery of yet more of the virtues I tried to raise you with. Yet my heart is broken. Whatever healing or amending I may find in the future, it cannot make that fact not be.”

“I do not think you make a mockery of anything,” Itarillë says. “You raised me to believe in the importance of trying, even in the face of failure. You also raised me to contend with the consequences of failure. I expect no less maturity from my elders.”

Overhead, the sky is clouded

#silmarillion #political pawn au #I meant to follow Fingon but Turgon had Things To Say #Maedhros soon Maedhros soon Maedhros soon #things are really heating up #let the tug of war begin

[malora-hightower]

The Starks + Thinking About Each Other

Part I: Ned

There were three tombs, side by side. Lord Rickard Stark, Ned’s father, had a long, stern face. The stonemasons had known him well. He sat with quiet dignity, stone fingers holding tight to the sword across his lap, but in life all swords had failed him. In two smaller sepulchres on either side were his children. Brandon had been twenty when he died, strangled by order of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few short days before he was to wed Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. His father had been forced to watch him die. He was the true heir, the eldest, born to rule. Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart.

AGoT, Eddard I

He could still hear her at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister’s eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that, he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief.

AGoT, Eddard I

“You avenged Lyanna at the Trident,” Ned said, halting beside the king. Promise me, Ned, she had whispered.

AGoT, Eddard II

Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. [. . .] He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran.

AGoT, Eddard II

Bran’s wolf had saved the boy’s life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa’s, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

AGoT, Eddard IV

Yet even as he said the words, he remembered that chill morning on the barrowlands, and Robert’s talk of sending hired knives after the Targaryen princess. He remembered Rhaegar’s infant son . . . and the way the king had turned away, as he had turned away in Darry’s audience hall not so long ago. He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once.

AGoT, Eddard IV

Ned did not need Littlefinger to tell him that. He was thinking back to the day Arya had been found . . .. He was thinking of the boy Mycah, of Jon Arryn’s sudden death, of Bran’s fall . . ..

AGoT, Eddard IV

“No,” Ned said. He saw no use in lying to her. “Yet someday he may be the lord of a great holdfast and sit on the king’s council. He might raise castles like Brandon the Builder, or sail a ship across the Sunset Sea, or enter your mother’s Faith and become the High Septon.” But he will never run beside his wolf again, he thought with a sadness too deep for words, or lie with a woman, or hold his own son in his arms.

AGoT, Eddard V

He yearned for the comfort of Catelyn’s arms, for the sounds of Robb and Jon crossing swords in the practice yard, for the cool days and cold nights of the north.

AGoT, Eddard VI

“You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert,” Ned told him. “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath. She would have told you that you have no business in the melee.” He took out the dagger and studied it. Littlefinger’s blade, won by Tyrion Lannister in a tourney wager, sent to slay Bran in his sleep. Why? Why would the dwarf want Bran dead? Why would anyone want Bran dead?

AGoT, Eddard VII

The dagger, Bran’s fall, all of it was linked somehow to the murder of Jon Arryn, he could feel it in his gut . . ..

AGoT, Eddard VII

It would be good to return to Winterfell. He ought never have left. His sons were waiting there. Perhaps he and Catelyn would make a new son together when he returned, they were not so old yet. And of late he had often found himself dreaming of snow, of the deep quiet of the wolfswood at night.

AGoT, Eddard VIII

Could Robert be part of it? He would not have thought so, but once he would not have thought Robert could command the murder of women and children either. Catelyn had tried to warn him. You knew the man, she had said. The king is a stranger to you.

AGoT, Eddard VIII

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, nut it cannot change a man’s nature.”

AGoT, Eddard IX

Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If the gods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they fill men with such lusts?

AGoT, Eddard IX

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood. [. . .] “As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. “Eddard!” she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.

AGoT, Eddard X

It was queer how sometimes a child’s innocent eyes can see the things that grown men are blind to. Someday, when Sansa was grown, he would have to tell her how she had made it all come clear for him. He’s not the least bit like that old drunken king, she had declared, angry and unknowing, and the simple truth of it had twisted inside him, cold as death.

AGoT, Eddard XII

And yet, he knew he could not keep silent. He had a duty to Robert, to the realm, to the shade of Jon Arryn . . . and to Bran, who surely must have stumbled on some part of the truth. Why else would they have tried to slay him?

AGoT, Eddard XII

Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon’s life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would.

AGoT, Eddard XII

Her eyes burned, green fire in the dusk, like the lioness that was her sigil. “The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister’s name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna.” Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep.

AGoT, Eddard XII

He was walking thought the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. “Promise me, Ned,” Lyanna’s whispered statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

“Serve the boar at my funeral feast,” Robert rasped. “Apple in its mouth, skin seared crisp. Eat the bastard. Don’t care if you choke on him. Promise me, Ned.” “I promise.” Promise me, Ned, Lyanna’s voice echoed.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran’s laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn.

AGoT, Eddard XIII

When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. The thought of Cat was as painful as a bed of nettles. He wondered where she was, what she was doing. He wondered whether he would ever see her again.

AGoT, Eddard XV

He made plans to keep himself sane, built castles of hope in the dark. [. . .] Catelyn would raise the north when the word reached her, and the lords of river and mountain and Vale would join her. The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of the false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. [. . .] He remembered Brandon’s laughter . . .. [. . .] Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark. Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

AGoT, Eddard XV

“. . . And now your son marches down the Neck with a northern host at his back.” “Robb is only a boy,” Ned said, aghast.

AGoT, Eddard XV

“Pity.” The eunuch stood. “And your daughter’s life, my lord? How previous is that?” A chill pierced Ned’s heart. “My daughter . . .”

AGoT, Eddard XV

#ned stark #part II will be catelyn #I'm sure I missed some and a couple of these may not fall under 'thinking about' #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #thenorthsource #bookhousestark #eddard stark #house stark #txt #starksthinkingofeachother