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bonktime · 3 years

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Take a Breath

Ezra (Prospect) x AFAB!reader Oneshot (no use of y/n)

Masterlist

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Your ship has crashed on a planet with low oxygen. With no other options you begin a tenuous partnership with a strange prospector in need of your help fixing his pod. He’s charming but dangerous and if he finds out the whole truth about you, you’ll probably end up dead. With trouble closing in from all sides, you navigate this new connection and hope you both survive in one piece.

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence, blood and death, mentions of religion, sexual harassment (just a couple comments), me having no clue what asphyxiating is actually like, Two has a clear helmet for plot reasons, smut: unprotected PinV sex (there’s no STDs in space), cunnilingus, dom/sub elements, rough sex, size kink, choking (just a little), spitting, praise kink (this one surprised me), biting, a little dirty talk (it is Ezra) - let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Note: I was totally inspired to create this by @jura-moon ‘s fic Nostromo which lives in my head and without it, this never would have been written. I have used some of her story beats and ideas so absolute credit goes to her for that. This is sort of a fanfic of Nostromo in many ways 💘 I’d also like to throw thanks at @absurdthirst who reawakened my love of fics, @slater-baby who awoke something in me specifically, and especially to @danniburgh who not only deals with my damn near weekly requests for softness but who also got me to stop editing at 1am whilst drinking tequila. She did us all a favour, let’s be honest.

I hope everyone enjoys this behemoth. Don’t forget to reblog!

Wordcount: 22k

~~~~~~~~

It's not the worst planet to crash on.

The thought is so ridiculous you'd laugh if it wasn't for the blaring alarms and the screaming. Instead, you wrestle into the pilot’s seat and strap in. With the engine dead you'll have to manually time releasing the parachute. It's completely insane. Too early and the parachute burns, you crash into the ground and die. Too late and the parachute doesn't catch you, you crash into the ground and die. Provided you do survive you've at least got your suit on, oxygen tank attached, you'll be able to breath. The planet's oxygen is too low to survive for longer than two hours alone but it'll aid the tank and give you two days, three if you're careful, to get more. At least it isn't poisonous.

Thoughts all over the place you wonder where the other ship will fall. Hopefully close enough you can still make use of it. Hopefully they've got a good pilot.

You've been lucky this far, now all you can do is hope your luck holds. You break atmosphere flames blurring the view of the planet and then it's rushing to meet you. You start counting, watching it come closer, closer. You see the other ship careen away from you.

“Fuck!” Someone behind you shouts “Pull the damn lever are you trying to kill us all?!”

You ignore them, don't lose count. Ok

Three… two… one…

You close your eyes and pull.

You don't open your eyes.

No. For the first time in years. You pray.

⧫⧫⧫

Pain is the first thing you register, across your chest aches like, well, like you've just crashed a ship. The next is the smell, smoke, that can't be good, it's not entirely unpleasant though. Then the noise, someone's shouting in your ear telling you to get up, to move, they swear and leave you dangling upside down, still strapped into the pilots’ seat. Oh, that's why your chest hurts, ok, you think to yourself, you’re alive. You need to move. You need to open your eyes.

You do.

Lights are flashing, disorientating you more than your current position, blood rushing to your head. You reach up and press the release on the seat belt and drop to the floor, or maybe the ceiling, head first. Didn't think that one through you chastise yourself. The engine is on fire, filling the hull with smoke but your legs are numb so, seizing your pack where it’s fallen beside you, you crawl to the light you think is the door and to your relief, flop outside.

No one notices you. They're all looking away, throwers out and pointed into the dead trees you sit back against the ship still reeling from the crash, too slow to realise how absolutely fucked you are. They come out the trees fast, even with spears and blades, you watch as the crew falls one by one. You can't process what you're seeing, frozen in place. Blood splatters, coming down like rain around you. Too late your body reacts and you stumble to your feet and run.

You get out of sight and then you stop, panting. Every breath aches your chest.

Something's wrong. Something you're not seeing. Right before your eyes. What is it?!

It hits you, slowly like a wave, realisation and then panic. You reach up slowly and touch your head. Gloves come away wet and dark with your blood.

Your helmet is shattered.

You aren't sure if you're crying or blood is dripping into your eyes. You suspect the blood. Feeling numb you keep moving, one foot in front of the other vaguely glancing down at the dial on your arm. After the running you'll be unconscious in at best an hour and a half, dead a little after that.

The petrified forest seems to close in around you. It’s a stillness like you’ve never experienced. Trees tower above you, skeletal branches reaching up like fingers. The limbs cast dark shadows in the bright sun, crossing over the dry brush underfoot, hiding foot falls and branches to trip on.

You walk on.

⧫⧫⧫

15 minutes left.

You decide to find a place to sit, ideally somewhere with a view but you can't me picky. A fallen tree does the job and you pull off the remainder of your helmet. Trying not to think about your imminent demise you look up. The suns are low, three of them. It twinges in your chest that you'll never go home, never see that sky again. Left to rot alone, no one who knows your traditions to perform your rites. Not that you deserve them. If you're going to put the ring back on, now would be the time. Make penance, but you don't think you can. Perhaps the hundred years wait is what you deserve.

7 minutes left.

There's someone approaching. Silhouetted against the scorching red sky, the heat rising from the ground distorting them, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating. The only clue they’re real is the crunch of the ground beneath their feet, but even that seems to echo around you.

Hope is the thing with feathers and it just flaps a wing wearily in your chest. And then stutters. The sun glints off their pistol, a beautiful sparkle that dims your hope. You do what you're good at, grab your own and shoot first. His gun flies from his hand and you smile, at least your aim is true. It falls off your face as quickly as it appears though as you feel a barrel press into your skull.

Clever buggers divided and conquered.

You drop your thrower but whoever it is doesn't lower theirs. “A little creature all alone,” a low voice drawls, “No helmet? No breath? What will we do with you?”

Staring straight at the man in front as he picks up your pistol and glares at you, you respond. “If we are going to chat, can we do it wherever your pod is? I have quite a story but I'll be dead in…” you look down at your dial, the gun increases its pressure on your skull as you try to suppress the panic “In about 5 minutes” the man remains silent, his pistol staying pressed into your skull. Your mind races, trying to find a way to argue your survival and clutches at the one thing you have. “I chose not to kill your friend when I could have done. Can you at least hear me out?”

The man behind you clicks his tongue “Ok! Well, I'm certainly intrigued and I'm sure even my partner here can't disapprove of allowing you to argue your case.” The comment seems pointed like he'll definitely disagree but even as you see his mouth twist he stays silent. “On your feet creature I'm not inclined to lug you back myself.” Standing the man lowers the thrower into your back and gently pushes you forward.

Their pod is close but you're feeling dizzier by the second and don't even think to protest when, as soon as you're in and the doors shut, the man at your back ties your hands behind you.

Focusing on him as he moves in front of you and pulls off his helmet you notice he’s favouring one arm and despite his sharp brown eyes, he looks feverish and drained. Not paying it much thought, you breathe deeply feeling sharper but it only draws your attention back to the pain in your body. Kevva you're tired. The urge to lie down and rest is near overwhelming, but the one who talks is eyeing you coldly for weakness, you’re no use if you can’t even stand.

Still, you try to get your bearings. The pod is small and rectangular, they haven’t turned the lights on and the looming shadows seem to pull in the walls, making your saviours into giants, making you feel like you’re pledging your case to The Olympians. There’s a small bench with a couple chairs next to a tiny stove and sink, there’s only one cot up against the wall, opposite what could be a cupboard but your eyes can’t make it out in the dim light.

“Now then creature, it's not every day we come across such a little thing with no air on this breathless planet and certainly not one who can shoot so damn straight!” The chuckles “I am just fascinated to know how you got into this predicament.”

You nod thinking carefully about your words. “We were a prospecting crew,” that's definitely a lie, “I'm an engineer but I know how to dig.” Well that's true at least, “Our ship fell of orbit but I managed to deploy the chutes in time so we didn't die on impact but…” you close your eyes as the images of the blood flashes before you.

“Let me guess your theatrical entrance gathered a welcoming party?”

“Something like that, I didn't realise my helmet had broken right away, I managed to run… I think everyone else is dead.” In a way you hope they are, else you really are in trouble.

The man is grinning at you, showing his teeth but the calculating gaze doesn’t falter “An engineer I'll be damned! And you can dig too? This is my lucky day. We happen to be in need of an engineer. See, our little pod has seen some better days and now it is unwilling to fly. Say, if you can fix it up and help us dig a smidgen, save us some time, we'll give you a lift out when the time comes? Quid pro quo”

An unwanted thought strikes you, settling deep in your stomach like a stone. “That sounds like a great deal but I won't be able to help you, not unless you supply me with a helmet.”

With that the other man seems to reach the end of his patience. And he moves gesturing at the talker.

“Now then, it just doesn't seem right to let such a pretty little thing suffocate on this rock... Well, I can't argue with that I suppose… I do apologise, little creature, I find myself, however unwittingly, agreeing with my partner. If you can’t help us then I can find no reasonable excuse to waste our resources on you. Looks like the deals off” he sighs “This is disappointing, I had such high hopes for our association.” With a shrug he pats your shoulder in sympathy that doesn’t meet his eyes. You shouldn't have hoped, your lucks all spent.

You take a deep breath, mind racing to find a way to survive, “Untie my hands at least, I'd appreciate some dignity as I walk to meet my maker.” You glance at your pack on the floor, you won’t need it now.

He pauses for a second, seeming to size you up before nodding and turning you around to face the door. In the reflection of the glass, you see the profile of his sharp features as he looks back, “Now then two, surely you can do the creature the quick the justice of a shot rather than a slow suffocation… Right good.” He cuts your hands loose and instantly the other man is there pressing his thrower into your back. You walk together, back into the waste.

There's only one way you're getting out of this so you close your eyes for a second and pause. He shoves you, lifting his gun to the back of your head. You take a breath and act.

Bending forwards and shoving your elbow up into his arm so the shot goes over your head, you spin knocking the gun aside and grab the small switchblade concealed in your pocket. He should have searched you. You don't hesitate as you stab him in the heart, following him to the ground and wrenching his helmet off. You close your eyes as the light leaves his.

Shaking off the nausea clamouring at you, you pull out the blade blanching as it sprays blood across you. You wipe it clean before stowing it away and then swipe a hand across your face, there’s no way to tell whether the deep red that rubs off on your hand is his or yours, or someone else’s. Feelin around in your pockets for a coin, you suppose the least you can do is pay his boatman so you place the coin under his tongue. You don’t pray. The dead don’t need it.

Ezra watches as you perform this strange ritual, he had to admit that he's captivated. Perhaps his wound has rotted so much he's delirious, finally driven mad by the toxins. Perhaps that was why he agreed to free your hands, why he didn’t check you for a blade. He considers you as he watches, so determined to stay alive.

You pull off the man's suit grateful he's small, even if it'll still swamp you, and grab his helmet. Stripping your own suit quickly you ignore the bandages on your forearm and pull his on. The fit isn't bad, it still seals around your wrists and ankles but it’s loose at your neck. You've got 12 minutes before you pass out unless you fix the hole your own knife made and get a tank of oxygen.

You look at the pod, the other man is watching you. Brown eyes piercing yours as if looking into your soul. It's him or nothing. You've got to try.

You approach the pod carrying your suit. Looking through the glass in the door and you gesture a setting for your radio, there’s a click followed by his harsh breathing.

“That was not especially kind, little creature. I certainly underestimated your ferociousness”

You shrug, “It was him or me.”

“What makes your existence so exponentially more important than his d’you think?”

You frown, “I didn't decide that it did, the powers that be choose. I did bring a knife to a gunfight” He smiles slightly and lets out a little chuckle.

Ezra watches you carefully, you look so tired, so small as you lean against the door of the pod his feverish brain seems to be attempting to soften a long-hardened heart. Still, he's not an idiot. “I'm afraid letting you in may be a detriment to my state of being, creature, you are indeed viscous and I'm not inclined to trust someone that murdered my acquaintance with so little hesitation.” He watches your eyes closed and for a second you look so hopeless but when they open, they've hardened.

“I could simply pull apart your pod from the outside, make sure you suffocate with me!” The last words come out in a shout of frustration. You bang your hand against the glass window of the door.

He glares at you, his voice low and menacing “I do not take lightly to threats, creature.”

This day’s too long, too hard, you've done too much. How many deaths? You realise that you can't kill someone for, sensibly, not letting you in. You laugh “I feel like the wolf at your door,” you sigh god your head hurts “There's no point!” you gesture, “Killing you would do nothing but damn me further I won't kill you out of spite. Fuck!” You glance and the dial on your arm,

6 minutes.

You turn away and sit, suit back against the door. It's as nice a spot as any. “I will choose to die here though I think, just as a reminder that you killed me when I fall through the next time you head out”

You chuckle at the macabre thought then turn off your radio and pull off the helmet.

3 minutes.

The final sun is setting, this really is Apollo's world and it is beautiful. The orange sky outlines the forest’s hands like an oil painting waving you off. Not a bad place to go at all.

2 minutes.

At least it's quiet.

1 minute.

Black spots are filling your vision, blurring out the beauty. Rude you think to yourself and you let out a delirious giggle.

The door behind you slides open and a strong hand grabs the back of the suite as you flop back, hauling you in, snagging the helmet and sealing the door. You don’t move, staring at the ceiling for a second breathing deeply.

Ezra drops heavily down onto the cot and watches you, you're quite something up close even covered in another's blood and your own, you're beautiful. He imagines this is what a witch would look like after a ritual, all blood and magic and secrets.

You open your eyes and peer up at him. “What changed your mind?”

He grins “Call it a reckless curiosity fuelled by this festering limb of mine.” He gestures to his arm.

It’s your turn to size him up, he seems to be looking worse by the minute and now slumped against the wall, you could probably just kill him and take what you need. Maybe you would if he hadn’t let you in. “Perhaps I can patch it up, I've got steady hands and too much experience with wounds from weapons” you struggle into a seated position with a grunt as pain flashes.

“You might as well have a gander, I'm afraid if left to my own devices I'll have to saw the thing off myself or else perish” He frowns down at his twitching fingers, “I do believe this may be my lowest point, little creature. I invite in trouble and then ask it for help? I have certainly had preferable days, for instance, when the ship I was presiding upon became infested with channel rats seems superior to today.”

You hum in reply not really paying attention as he continues to talk. Reaching for your pack, you pull out a pretty well stocked surgery kit. “I'll numb it as best I can but it's not much”

“Anything that alleviates this agony will be a blessing little creature” You raise an eyebrow at him in acknowledgment, clearly doubting it as you hand him a tablet which he swallows. He pulls off his shirt and you examine the wound trying not to stare at his strong arms and broad chest. It’s a couple days old and badly infected, you’ll have to get out the rot before you can think of sealing it.

“Lie back” you tell him

“Perhaps in another situation your choice of language would be quite desirable” he smirks at you, not succeeding in disguising the worry in his face.

You sigh at the comment “Scream all you need but don't move”

That makes him chuckle, “You're a siren luring me in to slay me, aren't you?” His jaw clenches as you start cutting away the rotted flesh. It is slow work, carefully taking as little pink away as possible. To his credit he doesn't move a muscle and you know it must be agony. He talks the entire time, telling the tale of how he got himself shot in such a long-winded way you can’t tell the truth from the fiction. It seems to give him distraction though, so you don’t ask if he’s lying. As you close the wound with foam, he smiles at you, softer than before.

“Names Ezra, by the way.” Then he passes out.

He’s rather strange you decide, but most prospectors are. You’ve got to be a bit odd to spend your days nearly isolated on hostile planets. Asleep he looks peaceful, none of the calculating gaze or darkness. That little patch of blonde is so distinctive, you find yourself almost hypnotised by his face. Frowning at yourself you move away and sit back against the other side of the pod facing the cot.

A few things left to do with him unconscious, you pull off the stolen suit and grab the patch gun from your pack, melting it closed. You pull it back on and holster your pistol. Sitting back, you take a pill from your med kit to ease the pain in your chest and let it pull you into sleep.

Unsurprisingly, you wake before him. You check he's alive then pack your stuff together. You're even, you suppose. He saved your life. You saved his (or at least his arm) and you'd rather not stay around to find out if, when less fevered, he decides to get more even with you for killing his partner. He did give you his name though and names are powerful things so you pull out your notebook and leave a note as you grab an oxygen tank.

You glance behind you as the door seals behind you but you don’t turn back. If you head towards the ship your crew had brought down yesterday, it should have an escape pod still on it. Hopefully you can fix it up if needs be. You follow your compass East.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra wakes slowly, he hasn't slept so deeply in years, he feels comfortable if a little cold and slowly he opens his eyes. The previous day returns to him in a haze, a pretty face and bright eyes glaring through the door, a gesture to old gods, his arm…

He looks down and moves his fingers. It's good, remarkably so, still stiff and aching but whatever you’d given him seems to have hurried his healing. That stuffs expensive. Not the sort of thing a prospector would usually have and certainly not something they'd share. You were quite strange, he concludes, but fascinating. Why on earth would someone who could act so brutally for their own survival give him something so valuable? Sure, he let you in but you certainly hadn't needed to let him know you had such a thing in your possession. He supposed guilt over his partner, perhaps you were truly naïve or, bizarrely, you could have money. Which would create a more baffling question of just how you ended up here.

It doesn't occur to Ezra for a moment the other reason, until he looks around the pod to find you gone along with a portable oxygen canister leaving a bit of paper in its place. Things stolen hold less value.

The paper was clearly torn from a notebook on it, it simply said your name.

He curses pulling on his suit and following your tracks into the forest. The trail is light but visible, branches broken where you’d passed, dry brush crushed under your feet. He moves quickly, sure of his footing after spending so much time navigating the dead forest. He’s only travelled about a mile before he can hear you moving ahead.

⧫⧫⧫

You walk through the trees, one sun shining above you warming your bones. As you check your direction you pause. A twig snaps and you freeze listening carefully. There's another noise behind you and you spin tensing. You can't see anything or anyone as you peer around you, the forest is too dense.

A body crashes into you from behind flinging you into the ground, looping something around your neck. Your head ricochets off the inside of your helmet shaking your brain, opening the cut again but not breaking the glass. You try to lurch up but get nowhere so you roll into your back with them now beneath you but the cord around your neck holds you back. Choking, you catch your fingers in it so you can breathe and pull forwards, hard, rolling again and thrusting your helmet back into theirs, loosening their grip enough so you can pull the cord away, only for them to shove you head down into the ground.

The world is swimming now, wobbling around you as you try to get your body to listen to you. To get away. To fight back. Anything! But their weight on your back prevents you from moving. You try to look out of the corner of your eye to see your opponent but get nothing. It surprises you when a tear tracks down your face. You suppose you have been putting off the inevitable for days now, Kevva has called you back.

Whoever it is clicks on your radio and a familiar voice hisses, “You stupid fucking cunt, I'm bringing you to hell with-“ A shot rings out and the body slumps on top of you, you lift yourself up and shove it off sitting up on your haunches looking around for the shooter.

It's him, Ezra, gun still trained on you. He watches you halt, eyes wide.

“You took something of mine, and although usually I don't go out of my way to find trouble, which you little creature certainly are. I awoke to find myself abandoned and a little peeved to discover that you had liberated a couple of my possessions and shimmied out of part of our prior agreement.”

Your heads still spinning and with the blood trickling into your eye you find it immensely difficult to focus on what he is saying. “Prior agreement?”

“Yes indeed. You'll find you had affirmed in exchange for breath you would fix up my little ship so when the time comes, I may leave this barely liveable planet. I do not appreciate reneging”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“On your feet creature,” he approaches, “I find myself growing impatient.” You stand and instantly stumble forward. He grabs onto your shoulder steadying you, his other hand darting out before you can relax and snagging your thrower from its holster. “I underestimated you once, I will not again. Now, your assailant seemed to know you, if I'm not mistaken, by the way they deemed to remark upon you. Pray tell me the tale?”

Looking at him you do feel a lot like prey. He's close, grip still firm on your shoulder and towering over you. A grin showing all his teeth like a wolf, all you would need is a red cloak and you’re dinner.

You glance down at the body and clench your jaw, it was Cora. Formally, a member of your crew, she had always distrusted you. Rightfully so, you think to yourself.

Steadying yourself you shrug off Ezra's grip, ignoring the gun still aimed at you and kneel down to pull off her helmet. Taking a coin from your pocket you place it under her tongue and look back up at him, the helmet still in your grasp. He's watching you curiously, seeming to be rolling words around in his mouth as if completely thrown by your behaviour.

“She was part of my crew, I was the engineer so the crash was my fault,” well that was definitely true.

Ezra chuckles darkly, “I'm not too sure I want you to repair my ship after all, creature. Your predilection for incident does appear wearisome.”

You tilt your head up at him, “See any other engineers around here?”

“I suppose you'll have to do, but I will be watching you mighty closely little bird, in case you decide to take flight again.” You frown at the new nickname but don't get a chance to argue as you both hear a horn a little way off. “Unfortunately, my shot appears to have alerted the ever-irritable locals to our location.” He grabs your arms and hauls you back to your feet pulling you along with him as he walks back the way you had come, Cora’s helmet still clasped in your hand. “Luckily the settlers are not quick on their feet, I must say.”

You can't think of a response, your head is still reeling and your feet feel like lead as you trudge after him, his hand gripping firmly onto your wrist.

You're grateful you hadn't travelled far when he tugs you into the pod. Closing the door and turning, Ezra finds you slumping down to sit on the floor ripping off your helmet and attempting to wipe the blood out of your eye. It feels a little voyeuristic as he watches you tug off the suit soaked with his partner's blood, revealing the black insulating vest and leggings beneath before flopping back eyes closed for a moment. You feel his stare and pointedly ignore it as you grab your own suit, abandoned the day before, and shimmy into it. Cora had the same suit and so her helmet will fit yours. You feel a little relief at no longer having to wear the blood of someone you'd killed, not to mention more secure in something that fits.

Glancing up at Ezra as you transfer your possessions between pockets yet again you see he's elected to tie his suit up around his waist revealing those damn arms again. He crouches down in front of you and gently grasps your chin to tilt your head up at him. “That's quite the cut you've got there little bird.”

He carefully watches your face but your head is still fuzzy so with no retort he moves away from you and picks up your med kit. He cleans your wound gently, wiping the dried blood off your face. As he does, you study him. Close up you can see the wrinkles around his eyes from when he smiles and the curved scar on his cheek. Fighting off the impulse to trace your fingers over it, you ask how he got it. He grins as he places a plaster on your head “Now that’s quite a story” but you don’t get to hear it yet, sounds outside means the settlers have found the pod.

“They'll leave provided they don't know we're here” He grumbles, tugging you into the cupboard running along the wall.

It’s slim but long inside, there are blankets on the floor, a lantern and a small stack of tattered books. “Do you sleep in a cupboard?” you have to ask but you do your best to keep the incredulity out of your tone.

“I'd rather you didn't insult my little burrow as a guest, there's only one cot in this pod and I lost the wager so I made do. I think you’ll find it’s rather cosy”

You nod, a little thrown by his change in attitude since being in the forest. As you both sit you watch his face in the golden light of the lamp. It makes him appear to glow, almost like a painting. He'd look almost relaxed if it wasn't for how his eyes were watching you carefully.

Ezra studies your features, if you hadn't been such a bringer of chaos, he'd think he'd made you up, that, or Kevva had reached into his head and plucked you out. You're just perfect, perhaps anything his own mind could come up with would have to come with chaos, there was no fun without it.

The quiet moment is disrupted by a bang on the side of the pod, you jump and Ezra tenses slightly but seems to be expecting it. “They're trying to frighten out anyone inside” he whispers, “If we stay quiet and hidden, we'll be just fine”

You nod and tilt your head back against the wall trying to block out the noise as Ezra reaches for the book at the top of his stack. You read the title ‘Perfume’, you haven't heard of it but judging by the battered pages and writing in the margins Ezra knows it intimately. He glances at you. “It is a tale of a man who gets so enraptured with the scent of a woman he endeavours to turn her essence into perfume.”

You hum in response “That sounds a little morbid.”

Reaching into your bag you pull out a similarly dog-eared copy of ‘The Power’ and do your best to ignore the man opposite you.

Ezra frowns at his book. It's not often a good read fails to pull him into its world but something about your presence has driven him to distraction. Instead, he closes the book and continues to study you, it's a nice change having a stranger in such close quarters. You're frowning at your book a little furrow in your brow he finds endearing. It's only then he notices you're shaking. He wonders if it's from the death of your friend, from the settlers’ insistent pounding on the side of the pod or from him. He supposes it's quite scary to be trapped in a small space with someone twice your size and he hasn't exactly been kind to you. Ezra frowns to himself, not that you've given him a reason to act kindly. You will be useful to each other but there's no point making friends on such rough terms.

You look up meeting his eye as he glowers at you and swiftly glance away, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“You said you came to prospect?” he murmurs to you. You look back at him, wide eyed, and nod. “Good, you can help me finish me dig, 60/40 split, since you so callously divested me of my partner.”

You nod “You ridded me of mine too. Looks like we're even again. Equal split.” He’s tempted to laugh at your boldness, negotiating with no leverage. He keeps his face stern, unwilling to let you know how much he is enjoying your spark.

“I don't think so.” he speaks lowly making you tense, “I will permit that without you my arm would be about as useful as stim gum is at staving off hunger. And at least to me my arm is equal to a partner.” He tilts his head at you, the light cutting plains across his skin, “Even so… we still aren't even. That’s twice I saved your troublesome arse. One could suggest you’re indebted to me.”

To his surprise you nod, even as your jaw clenches and he watches you swallow “I guess I'll have to make it up to you another way. Even split or I don’t dig” That breaks him, he can’t hold in his grin at your fearlessness. He strongly suspects you’ve had an abundance of practice getting what you're owed from characters more unscrupulous than himself. He frowns at that, even hardened prospectors treat him warily, there must be something else to you. He agrees though, more out of curiosity than necessity.

“Even split it is then.”

⧫⧫⧫

You both agree there's no point going out to dig with the settlers so close but after the noise has subsided Ezra looks you over and suggests you shower. You don't tell him what a gift that is but he sees how your eyes light up at the prospect of washing off the past days’ grime. He hands you a towel and as the water starts running, he distracts himself from picturing you naked by satisfying some of his inquisitiveness and going through your pack.

There's not much of interest. Your med kit, some protein bars, instant caf, ammunition but in the front pocket he finds an old ring. Round like a signet but instead of a family emblem it is simply a small coin, plated in gold. He studies it, it's roughly hewn, well-made but not particularly fine. He wonders if you stole this too, but it isn't flashy and everything else you've taken had been useful so he posits it is yours, but why don't you wear it? Frowning he puts it back as he spots a notebook, worn and well-loved but as he reaches for it the water shuts off and he leaves your pack, choosing to get nourishment for you both before you sleep.

You emerge dressed just in your leggings and vest, Ezra gestures to the seat noticing the bandage on your arm. “What did you do that your mystical little tablets cannot heal?”

You finger the material absentmindedly, “Oh it's an old wound I keep reopening, better to keep it covered to prevent infection.”

He peers at you clearly unconvinced but he doesn’t question you further, you avoid his eyes looking at the floor as he sticks some food in front of you. “Eat up little creature, we've hard work to do tomorrow and we'll need our energy.”

You take a mouthful before asking, “Where will we sleep?”

“Better we stay out of sight in case our hospitable friends return, so back into the burrow. And I'd rather keep you close in case you start to feel flighty again” You sigh but to his surprise don't argue, perhaps the settlers really did shake you.

Ezra returns to studying you as you both eat, without your suit on he can see the harsh bruises around your neck where your former friend had tried to strangle you but the gash through your eyebrow has stopped bleeding and fresh from the shower, you're quite the vision. It has been so long since he'd had another body to warm his bed and you look so soft and vulnerable without the suit and imminent danger, he finds himself picturing you under him, writhing, brow furrowed like before. His hands grabbing your arms, your hips, your neck- He shakes himself of the image. Your partnership is tenuous at best without bringing in the pleasures of the flesh and he doesn't really want to scare you off potentially leaving him alone and trapped on this world.

When you've eaten you head into Ezra's ‘burrow’ as he called it and settle opposite each other, legs stretched out in front, feet almost touching. Ezra is next to the door ensuring you can't leave without waking him but you're not inclined to try, you know your luck is running out. You're grateful he doesn't try to scare you into staying, instead curiously he picks up his book and looks at you.

“I propose an exchange, it appears we are both almost prepared to recite our beloved tomes cover to cover, so, would you acquiesce your book for mine?”

You shrug, “I wouldn't mind something new but I'm not sure how much you'd enjoy ‘The Power’ and I have nothing else.”

He smiles his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Well then, read me the blurb and let me decide for myself. It seems only I would know what I may delight in.”

“It's about how women become the dominant gender in the world, told by a man in the future where a male dominated society seems absurd.”

Ezra grins, “I am intrigued! It'll be a joy to discuss books with another person, a pleasure I can rarely partake in”

You smile back as you swap books. A tentative exchange that leaves you both a little hopeful for the progress of your partnership.

You both read in silence until you yawn twice in a row causing Ezra to yawn too and he suggests you turn in. Or you guess he does, his choice of language seems to baffle you here and there. He wrangles a blanket out from under you and you settle in, top to tail, his feet level with your chest and yours to below his hip. You didn't realise how the adrenaline of the day had worn you out and you're asleep in seconds.

You awake on your front, head nestled into your arm. It's pitch black and there's a weight on your ankle. Trying not to panic you wait for your eyes to adjust and peer over your shoulder to see what's grabbed you. It's Ezra.

Asleep on his back one hand on his stomach where the blankets had been shoved down and his under shirt had risen revealing a strip of tan skin glowing in the low light. You try not to focus on that. His other hand, by his side wrapping nearly all the way around your ankle. You wonder if he grabbed you awake to stop you trying to escape or if unconscious, he simply wanted to keep your warm body close, that idea makes you feel a little soft, this is easily the gentlest he's touched you apart from patching your head. You debate if you should shake him off but you don't want to wake him and his warm hand is anchoring so you just put your head back down on your arms and go back to sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra had his sleeping pattern nailed down, a necessary thing for a prospector, usually out cold for 7 hours so he's surprised when he startles awake. He doesn't usually dream. He grasps at the threads of images his mind had conjured committing them to memory. It was about you and it was enough to make him flush and now as he rouses himself, he gently detaches his hand from your ankle unsure about when he grabbed it. It's still early, he looks over you asleep on your stomach breathing slowly. He sighs adjusting himself in his pants if he can't get these images of his head, he's going to have an even more difficult time working with you than he already will. Desire is fickle like that he supposes, giving him a beautiful creature, he can't trust. One who is clearly concealing something and who certainly doesn't desire him in return. A beep tells him the suns are rising and you begin to stir

“Arise little bird, a day off struggle and fortune lays in wait.”

You grumble in return shuffling onto your back and sitting. Ezra tries not to stare as the blanket slips away revealing your body. To avoid further thoughts, he leaves his burrow taking his suit, subtly clutching it to his front so as not to alert you to his predicament, and heads for the shower to sort himself out, eternally grateful that the pod had connected to an underground lake making the water supply essentially infinite. Hopefully a brisk wash will clear his head and body of the lust.

You flop back and sigh. That damn blonde tuft and those sharp features were following you even into sleep. It had been far too long since you'd enjoyed another person and if it wasn't for the dilemma you were in, Ezra would be an easy yes. Broad and handsome and charming in a way that just spelled trouble, but your uneasy alliance, and your lies, and the fact that he could easily kill you make you especially wary of being vulnerable in the way you truly crave. Instead, you shake yourself, grab your pack, dig around for that terrible instant caf and leave the cupboard.

Ezra's shower was doing nothing for his erection. Feeling a little exasperated he grasps it harshly and tries not to picture you so vivid in his dream moaning around him. The water raining down on him acts as a lubricant as he harshly begins pumping his hand not wanting to take his time and fall into a fantasy of you. It doesn't work, he imagines how soft your hands would be, how wet you'd be, how he'd take you here up against the tiles. It's quick and dirty. He grunts, swears, then cums, the water washing the sin away leaving him panting and if anything, more frustrated than before.

You hear Ezra swear in the shower and wonder vaguely if he dropped something as you grab two mugs and start heating water for caf. The shower shuts off and you look round as he emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes are dark and he looks furious so you turn away and try not to think about how the water droplets on his broad shoulders shimmer as he disappears back into the cupboard.

Seeing you there, making you both caf, dressed in your underclothes sparked a craving of domesticity within Ezra. For the briefest moment you weren't a reluctant partner on a hostile planet, instead you were a lover he could wrap his arms around from behind as you giggle and try to get breakfast and it aches.

When Ezra re-emerges, dressed with his hair sticking in all directions, you've put his caf on the small bench and are sitting waiting for him. He sits too and picks it up.

“There's only a couple months left in the dig” he says, “You up to it? I will be displeased if you slow us down”

You glare, so this is what he's worried about, “Don't worry I've had plenty of practice. If anything, I'd worry about your arm!”

He grins at you “No need to fret little creature, I managed to do my job with a hole in it and with your miraculous medication, it is only a little unyielding.” He carefully looks over your face, “Speaking of, I would appreciate you being candid in not only the precise location you acquired such a potion but why in Kevva you deigned see fit to give it to me?”

He watches you chew on your words, “I relieved them from a man who sought to take from me, and I gave them to you to even my debt. You saved my life if I didn't give you one, I wouldn't have been able to save your arm.”

What a strange little thing, he thinks, so worried about balance, “Did you happen to also relieve this man of his life?” You stare into your cup and don't answer “Well if he sought to take from you, I'll assume it was just.”

You sit in silence as Ezra smoothly changes the subject and grabs a bar for you, spinning quite the tale as you eat. Not stopping for breath as you pull on your suits, boots and helmets, only pointing you towards the equipment you need to grab before opening the door and leading you back into waste.

Ezra hadn't given you back your thrower which you supposed was fair although he had left you your blade which you're sure he remembered you carried. Perhaps a little act of faith to gain your trust? It didn't hurt.

As you approach the site Ezra looks back at you, “Stay close little creature we wouldn't want you to get lost.” His voice is low and threatening and sends a shiver down your spine that isn't entirely fear. You nod slowly and he grins, wolf-like just as before, as if outside you the pod he is an entirely different beast to reckon with.

“I'll get in the pit and do the heavy lifting, you can treat and polish on the surface, we'll go for as long as we've got light and head back. It's gonna be a long day little bird”

The dig comes as a relief, the repetitive labour clears your head and Ezra seems to be filled to the brim with stories and anecdotes, although, you don't think you're actually learning much about him. The way he talks is open yet totally guarded, as if he has the compulsion to speak but the sense not to trust you. You aren't offended, it's not like you're exactly opening up to him either. The day passes quickly like this and as the sun dips too low to see well Ezra hauls himself out of the pit, tells you to pack up and you both head back to the pod to eat and sleep. You wake with his hand around your ankle again.

⧫⧫⧫

A couple of days in, the suns seem to be burning even hotter than before. The dig is gruelling and you’re grateful Ezra so far, hadn’t let you into the pit. You aren’t sure you could bear it in this heat. By the time you finish and return to the pod, taking off your helmet is a relief. You feel hot and sticky and bone tired so you plop yourself down into the cot in the main room still in your suit. Ezra chuckles, “You must be out of practice, else you'd still find these long days easy.”

Ah, so he is bringing it up. You raise your head to look at him, “I still kept up with you, didn't I?”

“True, true, although I am not functioning at full capacity at the present time.” He gestures to his arm.

You flop back and gaze at the ceiling, “Or I just survived a crash from space a few days ago and I'm still a bit worn out.”

That makes him laugh. It's a big warm noise, that makes you giggle too at the absurdity of it all.

“Are you confident you wish to slumber there?”

“Why? You afraid I'm going to make another break for it?”

His grin is just a little softer now, “A little. But if I were you, I'd be more concerned about the neighbours might pop by.”

“Shit, alright” you sit up and instantly yawn.

“Let's get some food in you and turn in, little bird. If I'm not careful I'll have to carry you into my burrow.”

Smiling back, you mock him a little, “With your arm? I'm not sure you'd be capable.”

At that he grins and you realise you've given him a challenge he won't back down from. Stalking up to you like a cat he seizes you under the arms and hauls you against his chest making you huff and giggle as you try to wriggle free. He carries you across the pod like you weigh nothing and plonks you down on the little work bench. Hovering too close for just a moment too long, his breath ghosting your cheek.

“Now how about you keep your smart comments to yourself, lest I have to keep proving you wrong?” he smiles at you, letting you see the crow’s feet by his eyes.

“I'll admit defeat this time I suppose, but you really should go easy on that arm!”

Ezra turns away from you, his heart pounding a little and reluctant to leave your embrace. Instead, he ignores the feeling urging him to clasp you close and grabs your food. As you slide off the bench and into a seat, he hands you a bowl. Neither of you attempt to meet the other's eye and both of you fail to see the flushed face of your companion.

Once again sleep comes easy, the hard work making your body crave rest to heal but even so in the dark you wake. There's no rush of panic this time instead you feel warm and sleepy as you glance at Ezra at the other end of the cupboard. He's not grasping your ankle instead his side is pressed against yours, leg to leg. It's cosy and in your half-awake state you don't think about how you had gone to sleep separated, and who had sought out whom in the black.

The next day goes much the same, you bicker before you head out deciding who should be in the pit and who shouldn't. Ezra concedes that he'll do the treating of the gems today if you keep alternating so neither of you gets too worn out. You agree though you point out yet again that he needs to go easy on his arm and he points out your bruises and gash on the head as hypocrisy. It's an argument with no malice and it feels refreshing to have a go at someone without worrying they'll get angry and shoot you. Although perhaps you should be more concerned by how at ease you are. If he was to see the scar on your arm, you doubt he'd be so understanding.

As the day ends Ezra offers you his hand to pull you out of the pit, his touch lingering in yours for just a second too long.

⧫⧫⧫

Working like this you form a sort of routine. Up early, dig till you can't see, talk, eat, sleep, press together in the night. Ezra is starting to reveal little details about himself, where he was born, how he got into prospecting, his favourite books. In a way it makes you feel guilty for staying guarded, only relinquishing the barest details about yourself, but if he notices he doesn't point it out.

A month passes like this and as you watch Ezra hop into the pit you wonder vaguely if he'll ever run out of things to talk about. He describes an incident where an amateur prospector managed to get his arm stuck in the pit resulting in its brutal amputation but your attention fails as you wait for the next potential gem and you look into the trees behind you.

An uneasy feeling claws at you so trusting your gut you tell Ezra to shut up and get down out of sight just as someone emerges. No one you recognise, thank Kevva, and not a settler either. They are carrying a rifle though. Bowing your head to your work so they can't see your mouth move, you quickly describe what's happening.

“I can only see one, he's armed. A prospector. You stay quiet unless I shout.”

“Right then birdie. I await your call.”

You look up at the man staying on your knees and gesture your radio setting.

“What's someone like you doing out here all alone?” You repress a shudder at his tone.

“Same as you, I expect, making my way in the universe.” He comes closer and you fight the urge to back away but you don't want to draw attention to Ezra. “I don't have much to offer you and I don't take kindly to thieves.”

“Big talk from someone unarmed.” Wishing Ezra had given back your thrower, you stand and decide an attempt to bargain will be the best option.

“What do you want then, we can trade.”

“I'm not looking to trade anymore, I'm stuck here. My team's dead.” He levels his gun at you. “If you take me to your ship, I'll let you live for a price. Protest too much and I'll shoot and have my way while you bleed out.”

You gulp and stand starting to back away. Even with the element of surprise Ezra will have to act quick and be lucky if you both want to live. Why would he though, he doesn't have much motivation to risk his life for yours, he'll just have to hitch another ride. The man keeps moving towards you as you reach the edge of the pit, eyes not leaving your face and presses the gun to your chest. You glance down for a moment, hoping he doesn't look too, and see wide brown eyes and a miniscule nod.

At the same moment Ezra reaches up, you drop back into the pit and land heavily on your back, winded. He slices across your assailants achilles tendon and grabs onto his leg pulling him in after you. Frozen in place, you watch the tussle, for the first time properly witnessing how formidable of a foe Ezra can be. His size and strength easily overpower the other man as he rolls on top, throwing down heavy blows that fill the air with the soft thuds of impact, like a heartbeat. A yell is cut off with a gurgle as Ezra shoves his blade into the man’s neck repeatedly, using his weight to hold the man down until he stills.

There's a moment before he turns, he lowers his head trying hard to calm his harsh breathing and sighs. “I do apologise little bird,” he turns to you scowl in place, eyes dark. “For my brutality, I'd rather you didn't have to bear witness.”

His voice is low and he's watching you carefully as you sit up. You feel lost for words at how far he'd gone to defend you, you wonder how close he got to becoming the man dead in front of you. Alone and cruel. All you can do is nod in response.

Ezra curses himself at how quiet you've become. Moving the body out of the pit had taken time and once done, as he watched you place a coin in his mouth, he'd announced that to continue the dig today would be futile with adrenaline running so high and at your nod you had gathered the equipment and headed back to the pod. He watches you carefully as you pull off your suit and decides that the fact you didn't just sprint for the trees after what he did was a good sign. But you continue to surprise him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “For not letting him…”

“Nonsense, without the pleasure of your company I don't doubt my humanity would soon become as weathered as his own.” He frowns, “It was rather like being visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come.” You tilt your head not really sure what that means but he shrugs. “Don't fret about it.”

Then there's silence as you watch each other. Lost in thought as you make your meal and eat.

Ezra ponders on the panic he felt deep in his chest at the waver in your voice. He wonders when saving you switched from utilitarian need to something more. He knows how stupid it is to get attached, how reckless. But your bright eyes and determination to stay alive were admirable and captivating and he craves to know more, what makes you laugh, how well you'd take him. He sighs and attempts to brush the lust aside. Even if you weren't terrified of him, he just knew you were concealing something.

The silence stretches out, both unwilling to break it, as you head into the burrow. For the first time, you sleep next to each other.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra is wrapped around you when you wake, safe and warm and comforting. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, its steady rhythm relaxing you before your brain starts whirring. Then you feel guilty, like you're taking advantage of him. He doesn't realise how much you enjoy him holding you close and you certainly don't deserve it. The weight of your lies heavy on your shoulders you ease out of his arms, careful not to wake him, and leave the sanctuary of the burrow.

A wonderful dream slips away from him as he stirs. His little bird's weight in his arms, grounding him, giving him something to protect. Looking round for you and finding you gone, he swears and stumbles to his feet. Kevva, he hoped you hadn't left him alone.

He almost sighs with relief when he leaves his burrow just to spot you sitting by the window watching the suns rise, notebook in hand and mug beside you. You look up, a little wary of his wide eyes but shrug. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither little creature, my dreams are haunted.” He picks up your mug and takes a sip, with a grimace he says “Can you truly enjoy something so acrimonious?”

You chuckle, “Habit I guess.”

“Well, it's certainly rousing” he smiles at you “What are you scribbling there?”

“I had a look round the ship, it's all the repairs I need to do.” You hesitate, “If we swing by the other crashed ship for a couple parts, we can be gone in two days.”

Ezra's eyes darken just a little, his voice low, “You wouldn't be trying to wiggle out of our agreement now? The dig isn't done and I demand satisfaction.”

He watches your mouth twist, “It's just I think our luck's run, the longer we stay the more trouble we're going to get like yesterday.”

“That cannot be helped, little creature. I'd like to live well for a while, and so, the dig must be completed.” You think to that other ship, there's immeasurable wealth on it but you can't tell him. Then he'd know what you were. So instead, you nod and start preparing for the day.

The change in your attitude has Ezra feeling nervous. He realises if he doesn't show a little faith, you won't feel safe and he'll lose you, and possibly himself. Just before opening the door to the waste, he turns to you, “Here.”

He's holding your pistol out to you, frowning slightly, you peer up at him “What?”

“If something like yesterday happens again I'd rather you be able to look after yourself,” you nod and reach for it but he keeps it in his grip for a moment, “Don't get any ideas” his voice is low and dangerous eyes hard on you. You swallow and nod shoving it into your holster.

To your relief the dig is quiet and Ezra has returned to chatting away to you from his perch outside the pit and eventually you're able to chat back making him laugh as the day passes.

There's a change between you, him trusting you to be armed has given you a chance to breathe, but, with that a new tension has come between you. One you're trying very hard to ignore. It’s crawled into your head and planted thoughts of closeness, of more, that you can ignore during the day but not at night.

After that day you'd formed a new routine. Going to sleep next to Ezra and waking up feeling secure in his arms before the guilt hits and you leave before he wakes. Not letting him know the comfort you've found there.

⧫⧫⧫

Apart from the locals coming to bang on your walls every few days, weeks pass incident free as you both perform this dance around each other. Ezra finds that his cold showers are doing less and less to quell his lust, and heart is another matter entirely. So, he ignores it, treats you a little coolly, tries not to scare you off, it's getting more difficult now nearly every night he dreams of you. Sometimes it's lewd, sometimes you're chatting together, the worst are when he dreams he's just holding you. He might think it was real if not for how when he wakes up you aren't there.

Until the morning he wakes first.

He's groggy, breathing deeply and so, so comfortable. It takes a moment to get his bearings. Shifting slightly, he realises how he's curled around you, hand on the strip of skin of your stomach where your shirt has rolled up, face pressing into the back of your neck and he has to fight the urge to kiss it. When you moan quietly, he props himself up on his arm looking down at you in the low light. For a moment he thinks you're having a nightmare but you flushed, breathing shallowly and he's certain you aren't. When you whimper, he shudders, such a pretty noise. He feels tempted to stay pressed against you, to touch you, to make you make more of those noises. He fights it off, and eases away from you stepping out of the warmth of his burrow.

He thinks, perhaps later he can talk to you, there's nothing wrong with getting some pleasure and easing some stress in each other’s arms. There isn't long left of the dig and then you'll go your separate ways, the thought stings a little. He leans back against the door. Kevva, he craves more, he wants to learn every inch of you intimately, to learn what makes you tick, to wake up with you in his arms. It aches deep in his chest, so many years spent in poor company. He hears you moan once more and groans himself, pushing off the door he trudges to the shower.

For the first time in ages, he runs it hot before stepping in and grasping his cock. He lets himself take his time, starting slow, increasing the pace till he feels like he could explode then slowing right back down again. He doesn't fight off the images of you that spring into his head now he knows what you can sound like. He imagines you making them with his tongue on you, fingers buried in you as he presses you down, how you'd whine his name, how you'd beg. Ezra grunts, staving off his orgasm once more his cock red and throbbing with his heartbeat. He pictures sinking into you, hot and wet with you pliable in his arms as he fucks you into the ground. He cums hard with a growl and a curse and then curses himself both for being loud and for allowing himself to yearn for you, then finally he begins to wash.

⧫⧫⧫

You wake with a start, panting. Your dream is vivid in your mind. Ezra grasping your hands so you couldn't move as he fucked you with his tongue moaning against you. He'd talked too, both eloquent and totally filthy as he got you exactly where he wanted you. You huff, now you were left frustrated and still pining for a man who must just see you as a utility, a way to get off this planet. Hell, he barely even knew anything about you, didn't know the most important thing. But you know you can't stay in this limbo for long now, the digs nearly done and after then what can you do. There are two options, tell him who you are and how you feel and hope for the best or just ignore it, get off the planet, take your money, and go live the quiet life you'd intended. You focus on this debate and instead of the wetness between your legs as you leave the cupboard.

You look around for Ezra and exhale as you hear the shower running, there's no way for him to know what you were dreaming of, right?

That's when you hear him, it's a low, erotic groan followed by a string of swear words and you flush as you became achingly aware of how wound tight you are. You turn away and try to ignore it, heating up water for both of your cafs as the shower stops.

As it brews the steel door swings open and Ezra emerges wrapped in a towel and glowering, you ignore his stare and the way droplets of water slide down his chest making you want to lick him as you hand him a mug.

Ezra watches you gnaw on your lip as you look him over and can't hold in the grin at how frustrated you seem. He can't help but tease.

“Did you have pleasant dreams little bird? You seemed unwilling to rise this delightful morning.”

His grin widens with your eyes as you look away “Err I don't remember… did you sleep ok?”

“Like I was in the welcoming arms of a lover” He doesn't miss your little inhale of breath, and he wonders how best to broach the topic of mutual pleasure with you. Perhaps it'll quell the urge to keep you safe in his arms.

The way Ezra is teasing you makes you think perhaps he can read your mind. As he goes to dress you make a decision, after the dig you'll explain how you really got here, explain how you don't want to leave him after the dig is done. And hopefully he'll be worn out enough that, should he decide you're too much of a liability, you can out run him.

As you head out an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, you tell Ezra as much but he just chuckles, “Perhaps you're still tired”

The morning goes smoothly, you're in the pit this time handing stuff out every so often to Ezra, his fingers brushing yours. Both of you work quickly, you puff, out of breath, as you stretch yourself up for yet another hand off. His ability to talk is once again surprising you. You laugh at his story despite the unease and the beat of the sun in your back and miss the delighted expression that crosses Ezra's face from your position in the pit.

Like a light switching, the energy shifts. You know there's trouble before Ezra mumbles through the comm “Little bird, stay down. Company approaches.”

Your blood runs cold when a voice responds, already on your frequency, a voice you know. “Greetings friend, we think you can help us out.”

Ezra eyes the pair in front of him, knowing you’d been made was adding a layer of worry to a tense situation, “I'll help if I can but, you're encroaching on my little territory you know how it is. I will be obliged to defend it”

You hear the pair step closer “Actually we're looking for someone,” your eyes slip closed as you stay stock-still, “See they greatly are responsible for our predicament. However,” the voice is clear like they already know you're here, crap, how long did they listen in? “If they were to help us find something we've lost. I can assure their punishment is… swift.”

You swallow as they step to the edge of the pit, Damon glares down at you “Hello darling, long time no see”

Ezra looks shockingly calm, still smiling as you glance at him, “Now then, that is not a polite way to address my partner.”

The other man scoffs, second in command Barlow, “Your partner? Back to your old ways I see.” He looks Ezra up and down. “You’re their type”

You think perhaps you see Ezra's jaw clench before he's grinning “It hardly seems fair for you to make off with my partner, does it? No, not without compensation which unless my ears deceive me, you can't give me without them.”

Before you can blink guns are drawn and you feel like a fish in a barrel, stuck in the pit without Ezra to pull you out.

“You don't know who we are, do you? I suppose in the suits you can't tell but I'd have thought with your… intimate relationship to our engineer you might have figured it out.”

Ezra’s gun doesn't waver for a second but his mind reels. The bandage on your arm, it couldn't be. Surely, he hadn't been so blinded by your company not to notice that. His eyes darken and he thinks, for a moment this man, Damon, realises he's going to die the split second before Ezra shoots.

Barlow’s slower, surprised at him for making the first move but despite his fumble this was a real stand-off. He meets Ezra's glare and they're frozen in time for a moment. Just as he watches the man start to squeeze the trigger and prepare to shoot, he flops sideways. Ezra swings his thrower round you see you, gun in one hand, body turned to the side, still poised from the shot neither of them had seen coming.

Ezra looks as surprised as you feel, even taking aim you hadn't been sure you should save him. But, in the second the men had forgotten about you, you'd let instinct take over and your instinct had chosen Ezra. You hoped it was correct.

Perhaps not. You watch as Ezra’s face darkens, his teeth bared as he levels his pistol at you. “Little bird” his voice makes you shiver despite the heat, “Be so kind as you toss your shooter up here. I think we will be having words.”

You can only nod, what can you do? He says he wants to talk so you'll talk, out of the pit. Where you can stand your ground. You swallow and throw your gun up to him. He gives you a curt nod picking it up and turning away. For a terrifying moment you think he's going to leave you here to die slowly but before you can beg him not to, he returns and tosses a pack down.

“Pack up your gear. We're leaving.” His tone leaves no room for argument so you pack away his equipment as quickly as you can and put it on as you wait and listen to him packing his own, wondering if the shots will draw more trouble.

After all the time spent getting used to his talking, his silence is terrifying. It allows you to think, to panic, to imagine the worst thing he can do. Probably leave you on this planet to rot or be torn to pieces by the locals. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought.

“Come on now, your elevator awaits” You open them to see he's offering his hand down for you to grab. You do your best to ignore the pistol in the other as you grab a hold and scramble out of the hole you had been sure was going to become your grave. Ezra doesn't loosen his grip on your arm as he hauls you to your feet and strides away from the dig forcing you to trot behind him to keep up.

You stare up at him as he pulls you along trying to read his thoughts. He doesn't look at you scowling straight ahead, his grip vice like and bruising. You don't try to shake him off, you’re sure he's worked out who you are. Your former co-workers hadn't been subtle but you can't gage whether or not this is a walk to the noose.

⧫⧫⧫

Tugging you into the pod he releases your arm and turning to seal the door he finally speaks. “Take off your helmet” His tone sends goosebumps over prickling over your skin so you pull it off and go to set it down on the table. When you turn back, he's right in front of you glaring down eyes dark. It makes you feel tiny. “Show me your arm.”

His words are too concise, so abrupt you hesitate. It's like he's a different person, an enemy you aren't sure you should comply to. Ezra decides you're taking too long and seizes the top of your arms spinning you both around and pinning you against the pod's wall, knee hitched up between your legs keeping you in place. You squirm in a futile attempt to get away and gasp as he unzips the front of your suit and shoves it down to your waist. Ezra breathes heavily as he rakes his eyes up to your body to your face. Doing his best to swallow down his desire, he ignores your own heaving chest and grabs the back of your neck forcing you to look up at him.

“Little bird, take off that measly scrap of fabric and reveal the truth.” You gulp eyes wide fingering the knot of the bandage on your arm. Ezra gives you a little shake. “Do it now.”

So, you do, pulling apart the knot and unwinding it from your arm. You don't look at it, perhaps if you don't see it, it's not really there. Instead, you watch Ezra's face for his reaction, gleaning nothing as he releases your shoulder and grabs your wrist bringing it up for him to see clearly. His brow furrows as he inspects your forearm, a brand of three circles linked like a chain. Kevva, he'd hoped he'd been mistaken. You're frozen as his gaze returns to you, dark eyes furious he crowds around you, filling your senses, body pressing you against the wall. His leg shifts slightly between yours and you almost whimper.

“You've been dishonest, little bird, and I do not appreciate it.” Ezra feels at war, he's furious you lied but he understands why. He's fuming you had been running with a violent, malevolent group of pirates. He doesn't understand why you'd ran after the crash or why you'd turned to him. He wants to know what you have that your crew found so valuable. He wants to know how you're both so hard and so soft. All these thoughts rattle around in his head as he stares at you, your mouth slightly open and your lips wet, until he can only think about how good you feel pressed against him, how delicate you feel under the hand on your neck. How much, despite everything, he wants you. He doesn't notice how close he's gotten to you until he feels the puff of your breath on his face. And then you utterly surprise him.

You can almost hear him think as he stares down at you. You don't want to interrupt but his hold on you is drawing attention to his size, to how much strength and power he holds. It's like he's swirling all around you clouding your brain, filling it with him. So, you let yourself do what you want. You've got nothing to lose. Everything that's yours is in his hands and you can't bring yourself to care. He's leaning closer, bending so with his hand on your neck tilting your head up it's like you’re sharing breath. You close the gap and kiss him.

For a second, he freezes in surprise and then he's kissing you back. Harshly biting your lower lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth. It's desperate and rough and you lick into his mouth in response loving the low moan coming from deep in his chest. He releases your wrist and grasps your hip closing any distance left between you. He grinds into you, the leg between your thighs causing a delicious friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and stares down at you for a second moving his hands to the bottom of your vest. At your nod he tugs it off and pounces back on you. He rubs his hands up your sides as he kisses you, loving the feeling of how big they are on your frame and how you gasp as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You wriggle against him trying to unfasten his suit and shove it down his arms. He obliges, stepping back he pushing it off and kicks it away leaving him in his underclothes, staring at you, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes you in. Then he's back on you, seizing your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him as his other hand tugs down the remainder of your suit taking your leggings with it.

Eyes look up and down your form, drinking it in as he reaches down to rub a finger over the wetness soaking your underwear. Your mouth drops open and Ezra seizes the opportunity to shove his thumb in your mouth, his grip adjusting to your chin. Smiling as you suck on it.

“Look at you” he coos dragging his nose into your cheek almost mockingly “On display for me, you look good enough to eat.” He punctuates this by biting your neck and pulling your thin underwear taut against your clit just enough you cry out and stand on tiptoe. He grins down at you as you bite down gently on his thumb and then pulls off your underwear letting you kick it aside before stroking his fingers across your slit so gently it makes you buck towards his hand. He moves his hand back to your hip, pinning you back to the wall as he pulls his thumb from your mouth and wraps his hand around your throat, not squeezing just resting there.

“I want you to stay still,” his voice is low and commanding so you nod. “Repeat it back to me, I want to hear you.”

You whimper, “I'll stay still” and he grins before bending to kiss and nip along your jaw above his hand as his other moves back down to your cunt. He circles your clit so gently it's like he isn't really touching you and just as he slightly increases the pressure he draws back. A needy whine falls from your throat but you stay still and he murmurs against your cheek.

“Good little bird, so wet for me. You're positively dripping,” and then just as slowly he eases a finger into. You cry out, so wound tight it's agonising, the contrast between how harshly he gripped you before against his irreverent touches now making you ache for him more than ever. “Sing for me little bird” he demands and then he's really moving, pressing his finger against that spot inside you that makes you see stars, thumb drawing circles over your clit making you moan so loudly it surprises you.

Ezra watches the flush spread over your skin as your eyes roll back, he doesn't know how he wants you first. Just as you’re getting close, he realises. He wants you begging.

He forces himself to pull his hand away from you and watches as you shudder with tension eyes opening to look up at him. “Ezra…” your voice is so soft he grins.

You watch him as he raises his hand to his face to lick your juice off it, sucking his finger with a pop. It's so erotic you can only whimper as he smirks down at you. You want to touch yourself, make yourself cum while he watches, but as you lower your hand down he grabs your wrist and moves it back to his shoulder. “Don't misbehave birdie, right now all your pleasure is mine.” You bite your lip.

Then he returns his hand to your pussy, this time shoving two fingers in pumping them as he rubs his thumb against your clit more firmly than before. Your body quivers but his hand against your neck keeps you in place as you moan desperately. As soon as you get close again, he slows down to a stop this time keeping you stuffed with his fingers as you try to get some friction. “Please Ezra,” the tone of your voice shocks you, you've never sounded so needy.

He moves his face away from biting your ear lobe to look at you, “Please Ezra what, little bird? You've got to be clear”

You can't stop the words tumbling out of you, “Please can I cum, please make me cum Ezra”

He smiles almost cruelly, “You sound so exquisite when you beg.” He starts working his thumb again, brushing his lips against yours. The hand on your neck finally starts to squeeze, turning you on more. “Do it again.”

You do, no power could stop you begging for him, saying his name like a prayer. And then you're cumming, your vision goes white as Ezra squeezes your throat firmly, cutting the blood from your brain dragging it out as he shoves a third finger into your wet pussy.

Ezra swears he's never witnessed anything so magnificent. Your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth open and lips wet, unable to make a sound. How you soak his hand, how you tighten around his fingers. Now all he wants is to find out how many times, how many ways, he can break you apart.

When you begin to squirm, he reluctantly pulls away, you look up only to find he's pulling off his shirt and trousers. Your eyes widen as his cock springs free. You'd known he carried himself like he had nothing to be insecure about but Kevva… he's packing. It's huge and beautiful, slightly curved, a striking vein runner down it. You feel a little more breathless at the sight.

Ezra catches you staring and grins, pressing back against you, grabbing your arse and lifting you against him. You wrap your legs around him as he pins you up against the wall. His cock feels even bigger pressed against your stomach. Ezra grinds against you sucking marks down your neck as he notches himself at your entrance. You whine and claw his shoulders, he's barely into you and you're sure you've never felt so full. “Ezra” your voice is thready “Ezra I don't think you're going to fit.”

He coos in response thrusting shallowly getting slightly further in and making a cry out as you feel yourself drip around his cock. “Don't fret little bird,” he thrusts again getting deeper, kissing you, relishing the feeling of your heat around him, “I know you can take me.”

He thrusts decisively, bottoming out and pushing the air from your lungs. It feels like he's breaking you open, splitting you in two with his cock and you love it. Love the ache as you adjust, love how you can almost feel him in your stomach, love how he has you pinned to the wall supported by those strong hands and his body and totally at his mercy.

You can barely register he's talking as he grinds his hips against your clit. “... squeezing so tight around me. Never in all my time have I gotten so close to Nirvana.”

He waits until you've started to writhe in his arms, just add he'd imagined, begging for him to move. Then he starts long deep thrusts, interspersed by him grinding against your clit making you whimper and moan as you feel his cock drag across your walls.

“Kevva plucked you out of my head and sent you here for me. You're divine, exquisite…” you can't focus on the words, in no time at all you're cumming again. Squeezing him so tight he chokes on his words and kisses you deeply. He doesn't slow down or speed up, keeping his devastating pace until your body starts to relax. Then he nips at your jaw, hooking his arms under your knees and around your back, spreading his palms wide. He steps away from the wall and, slightly afraid he'll drop you, you grab the back of his neck, but you needn't worry.

Now with you impaled on his cock suspended in the air by his arms, he truly begins to ruin you. Lifting you up and slamming you back he watches your cunt take him, watches how your breasts bounce, watches you throw your head back in a silent scream. He bites into your neck leaving a mark as he sets a brutal pace. Seeing you like this, feeling you like this, has stolen his vocabulary so he curses and growls as he watches, totally enraptured by how well you take him. He thinks maybe he tells you but he can't be sure.

Ezra’s still talking his sentences shorter but still as dirty, the way he praises you makes you moan and combined with his he is destroying you; you don't think you'll ever experience something this good again and then you don't think anything much at all. Just Ezra, his strength, his beautiful words, how perfectly he's fucking you.

Ezra knows he can't last much longer, not in this heaven but he's determined to make you cum again before he does just to feel it. So, he moves you slightly in his arms until he hits that bit which takes your cries even higher. He grins as you dig your nails into his shoulders, the slight pain both grounding him and making him lose his mind.

You feel so overwhelmed and overstimulated that when he adjusts his thrusting you can't help the few tears escaping as you wail. He just pulls you slightly closer and licks them up before staring down and watching how your pussy stretches to take him. You’re so close again you're sure you might explode if you don't cum, or if you do. And then you do, you can't even make a sound as your whole body goes rigid and Ezra doesn't stop pounding you. Instead, you hear him growl and curse and his thrusts get faster and shorter.

Ezra had never experienced anything hotter. The way you threw your head back and took it as he fucked you like a ragdoll. The feeling of you clenching around him. How you soaked him, the sound of your fucking would stay with him forever. And then he's cumming, he bites down on your shoulder groaning into your skin as he releases. His mind is wonderfully blank as he squeezes you against himself and fills you up with a dozen shallow thrusts.

He doesn't release you right away, just holds you to his chest as he turns to lean against the wall cock still in you. Blissful in the moments before his thoughts start buzzing again. When you can move you look up at Ezra, he meets your eyes, gaze totally unreadable. He reluctantly releases you with a groan and grabs his shirt as he kneels and begins to clean off your combined juices dripping down your legs. Seeing him on his knees taking care of you threatens to give you hope which you tamped down. He didn't know the truth yet and he had readily thrown you out once before. When he's done, he stands and tosses the shirt to the side, tugs on his soft under trousers as you pull on your own clothes. The silence feels like a giant pit between you and you glare at your feet unsure how to start this important conversation.

To your surprise Ezra gently pinches your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “We've still got much to discuss, little bird.” At your nod he pulls your hand into his ignoring how small and delicate it feels and gently tugs you towards the burrow. He has to know the truth.

⧫⧫⧫

You sit next to each other, his back against the wall, you sitting forward nervously running your fingers over the brand on your arm. Ezra just watches you, waits for you to explain and hopes you aren't a threat he'll have to get rid of after you've shared such intimacy.

“I don't… I won't come off like a very good person or partner when I tell you this. So just listen… please?”

Ezra nods, “None of us can be considered a good person, our humanity is dependent on our survival” he sighs, “Spin your tale, I'll remain in silence until it's done and keep my judgement of our partnership till it's completion”

You swallow, “I fixed a ship, that's how this whole mess started. We were leaving a dig and something had gone wrong which would have forced us to land. But I suited up and fixed it in zero G. It was completely stupid and shouldn't have worked but it did and we made it back to the dock. It wasn't till we'd sold off all our gems and separated that I was cornered. Turns out the malfunction wasn't an accident and by fixing it I'd cost them a lot of money in what they would have stolen from us. They reckoned I owed them and… they aren't people you want to owe”

You close your eyes and Ezra watches you tense. He'd like nothing more than to pull you into his arms but as he reaches for you, he clenches his fist. He needs to hear you out.

“They went through the rest of my team to get to me…” oh, Ezra understands they'd totally isolated you. “Well, they worked out since I could fix their brakes, I could mess up the ships in ways that couldn't be fixed without an emergency landing. They branded me there and then. Didn't even tell me how long I'd have to work to balance what I owed; probably thought I'd be dead by then.” You look down at your arm and frown.

When you look back at Ezra, his eyes are sharp, watching you intensely. “That scars old, little bird, how long did you dutifully aid their robberies.” Robberies of prospectors, people like him, people who'd been like you.

You look away, jaw clenched, “Long enough for it to get easy.”

Ezra doesn't move behind you, doesn't speak. You can't look at him.

“And then I couldn't anymore, I saw what I'd become and I hated it.” Your nails dig into your arm. “No one's good out in the fringe. But I was worse. I can't make up for what I did… can't take it back, can't return lives, possessions any of that. But I could stop, bring my crew down too. We used a distress beacon to lure in the other ships and…” you laugh “This time as I boarded after dealing with the other ship. I dunno, I just snapped and blew our engine too.”

Your mouth twists at the memory, “The pilot saw and I… when I was done, I just thought one down. I didn't want to die myself, that’s the easy way out, so I did my best to pull the chutes, hoping I'd play dead and hitch a ride out. Well, you know the rest.”

You stare straight ahead as a tense silence follows not daring to see Ezra glare at you. You don't see his soft eyes looking you up and down, his mind reeling. Had he known this when you’d first met, he would have shot you without question and left you to rot, your presence nothing more than a risk to his survival. But now, you’d saved him, talked with him, he’d gotten to know you. How you drink your caf black saying you’re “sweet enough”, how you look in the morning, how you laugh, how you moan. He knows he can’t kill you now, but you are a threat. He doesn’t know what to do. “Why are they searching for you? What do you have that they want? Your friend mentioned something.”

You laugh humorlessly, “They don't know where the other ship crashed, I was in the pilot’s seat, so no one else could see it go down. Fat lot of good it'll do them wrecked here.”

There's a bang on the side of the pod, “Shite” Ezra mumbles, “Our quixotic friends have returned.”

⧫⧫⧫

The wait for them to leave seems to take hours, the silence making your heart pound and your thoughts race over what you can do now. Ezra will definitely want you gone, only a mad man would keep you around with your history. Perhaps back to the original plan, see if you can mend the other ships escape pod and get the hell off this planet.

By the time the locals have decided your pod is empty, your plan is set. You stand, not looking back at Ezra. “I'll get scarce, I know I'm a problem waiting to happen.”

You grab your bag feeling in the pocket for your ring, a memory of a home you can't return to, old gods you're no longer sure are there. You look down at it as you step out of the burrow not noticing Ezra follow. You shove it into your suit pocket.

He is stumped for words as he watches you grab your possessions that have become scattered around the pod. He sees how your lives have become enmeshed. Scraps from your notebook scattered around where you'd played hangman or left notes and reminders for each other, items of clothing he watches you fail to pack, that damn terrible caf on the workbench.

He's not sure that he'll ever get all the pieces of you out of the pod, out of himself. You're under his skin, the very smell of you making his heart beat with more determination. As you reach for your helmet, he grabs your hand and finally you look up at him.

“Don't leave, I don't want you to leave.”

It's so simple but it means so much more and he thinks you maybe realise as you look up at him tears in your eyes. “I don't want to go.”

And then he kisses you. It's slower than before but no less fierce sparking a deep need in your chest. Gently now, he pulls off your suit as if he's still persuading you to stay before running his hands up your arms and down your back and sides like he's memorising your shape. When he kisses you again it's hungry, intense, he's trying to put words he's afraid to speak into it and it totally wiped your mind as you let him pull you back into his burrow.

Then he's peeling all your clothes off you. His touch is irreverent like he's unwrapping a precious artifact. He tugs you to lie down and settles between your legs pulling off his own shirt. He balances his weight on his arm above your head to nip at your lips, you reach up to run your hands up his chest, feeling him shudder as you gently rake your nails over the skin.

His other hand is squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple before seizing your hip and pulling you flush against him. The friction of his trousers against you, combined with how he's surrounding you, invading all your senses, is overwhelming.

“You are something else entirely,” he's kissing his way down your body, sucking purple bruises as he goes, seeming determined to mark every inch of you. “I could travel the whole breadth of this hostile galaxy and never find a sight as breath-taking as you laid out before me, a divine meal worthy of gods”

His words turn you on more as his ministrations make their way down to your legs. He bites your inner thigh almost too hard, making you squeal and jerk away but he grabs your hips and pulls you back, laving his tongue over the slight indent left by his teeth. You don't know how he's done it, not hours ago he railed you into oblivion and somehow, he has wound you tight all over again. It's like he's playing an instrument, plucking your strings both hard and soft so you melt.

His eyes meet yours, dark and hungry and he holds your gaze as he licks up your slit, his tongue wide as flat. You moan softly as he smiles, “Straight from the source your essence is even more delectable.” He stares at your pussy, seemingly fascinated by how it's fluttering around nothing, totally rapt by a droplet of your arousal sliding its way down.

You whimper at him, and try to buck your hips in his grip, desperate for him to do anything other than stare. He chuckles at you, “So willing to give yourself to me,” then he spits on your cunt. You gasp, half from shock and half from how much it turned you on. He grins as you tense and dives in.

Ezra eats you out like water from a well after crossing a desert. It feels as if he's writing the words, you’re stopping him saying all over your clit as you cry his name. His eyes closed he reaches up and seizes your hands, pulling you closer and settling his elbows over your hips keeping you still and at his mercy as he moans against you. Your eyes close as you feel sparks travel up and down your spine as he shoves his tongue into you making you whine but then he pulls away. Rubbing his cheek on your thigh, his beard tickling you.

“I want you to look at me little bird.” You can't help but obey his command instantly opening your eyes to see his pupils blown wide as he smirks. “You'd do just about anything for me to let you cum, wouldn't you? Don't worry your pretty head. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Then he's back on you, sucking your clit between his teeth, you gasp his name trying to squirm away. his eyes piercing you, his mouth on you, his hands covering yours, his arms holding you down. It fills your head with him totally overpowering you and then you cum.

You go totally rigid, you're still looking at Ezra but your vision has gone so white you can't see him, just feel him moan against your cunt as you soak his tongue. Even as you start attempting to twist away, he continues, switching between sucking and licking at you as his strong arms pin you down. You cry out at the overstimulation, shuddering from it, tears leaking from your eyes and in no time at all you're thrown over the edge again. Cumming so hard your mind is totally wiped of anything but Ezra.

This time he grants you a reprieve, sitting up he watches your chest heave as you slowly come back into your body. He's lost for words, seeing you like this is better than anything he'd ever imagined and he still wants more, wants to ring every drop of pleasure out of you. And when you smile up at him, totally blissed out and willing, he's sure he'd do almost anything to keep you.

He doesn't put it into words though. Instead, he crawls over you seizing your jaw “Open that pretty mouth little bird,” something about how you so readily obey him twists in his chest and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it and bends close spitting into your mouth. You can taste yourself in it and it sparks your desire all over again.

He can't hold in a groan as you swallow, still smiling, his head seems too empty so he kisses you. It's fiery, filled with lust as you kiss him back and wrap your legs around him reaching down to pull off his trousers, he pulls back to kick them away as his cock springs free, it's hot and red as you wrap you hand around it, not even able to meet finger and thumb and squeeze slightly making him growl and bite along your jawline. “Tell me little bird, what would you will me to do?”

You meet his gaze, “Fuck me.” he groans into your neck, “Please.”

He watches your face as he positions himself at you entrance, “Kevva,” it's like he's not really talking to you, “I've never borne witness to anything so magnificent as your perfect cunt soaking me,” he slowly pushes his way in. It makes you whimper and him growl and you watch the tension in his neck as he restrains himself from ruining you, “Fuck you're tight.” His language is getting simpler as he starts losing control. His soft eyes beg you to let him move as his jaw clenches and you can't help but give in.

“Please Ezra, move! fuck me”

The noise he makes is inhuman as he starts drilling into you. He shoves one of your knees up over his shoulder, deepening his thrusts making you cry out as he shreds against your walls. All he can think is how hot you are, how wet, how tight, how perfectly you take him. He's shoving up against your g shot with every thrust, coarse hairs grinding on your clit, you feel totally at his mercy to do nothing but take it and it may be the best sex you've ever experienced, ever will experience.

He looks beautiful, your juices still glistening on his face, brow furrowed and eyes half lidded but so piercing you might think he was furious if not for how in-between curses he's describing you, what he thinks of you. You aren't sure he even knows he's talking and the need in his words drives you higher and higher despite how spent you feel, how much you don't think you can cum again. And then you do. Kevva the way you clamp down on him clawing his back makes him lose his mind, he shoves both your knees up to your chest bending over you to bite you lower lip. The change in angle adds more friction, his thrusts get shorter, faster. Ezra cums so hard he can't think, you watch his eyes roll into his head, the groan he makes cuts off his own speech as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can get and releases.

Ezra’s ears are still ringing when he manages to roll himself off you. Both of you are panting, as you stare at the roof of the pod and try to muster the words. Naturally, Ezra succeeds first. “Little Bird, I didn't know experiences such as that could be bestowed upon men like me.” You can only make a little noise in reply as he takes your hand and silence falls again.

Finally, when your breath is caught and you can both think again, he pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Little bird, I'm starting to agree our dig may be bust. Trouble is biting our ankles and I should have listened earlier. Let's pillage what we can to fix the pod and get going. The dig is almost done, even split it'll be a while before I need to pick up another job.” You feel a sting at how quickly Ezra had returned to talking business but you do your best to brush it off. There's nothing wrong with some shagging between friends and it's no reason for him to feel the same fluttering in his chest that you do in yours.

“Right then we should travel light, get everything we need and come back. The fix won't take long, we can be gone in two days.” Two days left with Ezra makes you feel a little sad, you suppose you'd just gotten used to his company.

Ezra smiles grimly, “If we're lucky.”

You turn and roll over enjoying how he follows, wrapping you in his arms, tangling your legs like he can't bear to be separate. “I do have a question for you if you don't mind?”

You shrug, “Depends what it is.”

“What is that strange ring you carry but don't put on.”

“It's… it was a gift when I left home. It's supposed to be my payment.”

Ezra's mind casts back to how you paid honour to the dead, even those he certainly didn't think deserved a boatman. Saving them from a potential purgatory. But you didn't wear yours.

“Little bird, forgive my bluntness but curiosity is driving me to ask. Why don't you wear it?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing away images of your past, grounded in Ezra's warm grip. “It's,” you sigh, “It's just too heavy.”

Ezra can feel how tense you've become and fights off the heavy guilt threatening to settle in his chest. You think yourself deserving of the hundred-year wait wandering the shore, think the loneliness is just. He kisses the back of your neck. “We should let our dreams take us lest we attract more trouble. It is salient we are well rested.”

You sigh, relaxing against him despite yourself. Long since exhausted by the day and his attentions, you let yourself drift off. Faintly feeling a hand caress your cheek, but you could have imagined it.

⧫⧫⧫

Waking up with someone warm in his arms is something Ezra could get used to. He tells you as much but you brush it off, someone isn't necessarily you after all. Ezra talks as you pack but he avoids the subject of you, of you both. He didn't want to scare you off, he tells himself, his flighty little bird. But he knows he's lying to himself, just being a coward, afraid of your reaction. He avoids meeting your eye until, helmets on, you both stand by the door. Taking a moment of peace before heading into the waste. He takes your hand seeking reassurance as much as trying to give it. You meet his eyes looking a little afraid but determined. He squeezes it tight before letting go and opening the door.

The walk East is easy enough, a pretty straight shot over flat ground. The only real problem being navigating the increasingly dense petrified forest. Ezra talks continuously, but you're grateful, glad it isn't awkward between you and enjoying his descriptions of other worlds he's visited. Where instead of breathless death and grey, there's vivid greens and blues of plants and flowers. Where the beauty is just as dangerous as this blank world. And, slowly, you start to talk too. Really talk. You describe a world that, to you, had seemed to be entirely made up of a casino, and the trouble you had gotten into there.

“Too rich for my blood,” Ezra chuckles and you agree.

You don't tell him about your home, not yet. But being able to talk, to laugh about something you'd done, feels freeing. Like a weight has been lifted ever so slightly off your shoulders.

You’re both grateful the walk is uneventful but you can't relax as the looming silhouette of the other spaceship appears through the trees. It's still too early for hope.

As you approach you see that the crew had successfully pulled their parachutes, but too late. The side of the ship had caved in where it had skidded across the earth, giving you both a way in. When you stop Ezra’s looking at you, “Any chance of survivors, little bird?”

You just shrug. “I doubt it after this. They were running a skeleton crew.” You wince slightly at the double entendre, hoping you have the time to find their bodies and pay their dues.

Ezra raises an eyebrow at you. “On a ship this big? That is most peculiar.”

“I guess, I didn't get a chance to think about it at the time.”

You go over the list again, 5 items, 5 areas. All small enough to carry in your packs. To yourself you add another item, just in case you get the chance.

“We stick together, watch each other’s backs.” You nod in agreement and you both step into the ship.

⧫⧫⧫

There's a faint dripping noise, like a clock ticking. It sets off your nerves as you leave the light of the suns. Inside is cast in red, a good sign the electrics haven't been fried, but totally unsettling. It casts humanoid shadows across the grated walls seemingly flickering with every step. Ezra had gone totally silent but his presence behind you is reassuring. Together you pry open the first door.

Inside has the same red light but the weapons board flashes at you telling you it's still live which is strange. You mumble it to Ezra. “These things usually shut down first after a crash, they drain loads of power that's usually diverted out.”

He frowns at you. “Mayhaps a malfunction? It looks like a rough crash.”

“Yeah. Probably.” But it niggles at the back of your brain. All you can do right now is ignore it so you wrench the panel out from the wall to the side and stick your arm in. Feeling around, you brush your fingers up against the dotted cylinder you need. These old ships had a habit of hiding important components in baffling locations, apparently to protect them in a crash which you do suppose this has, but you suspect it's to confuse novice engineers and pillagers alike.

Ezra is keeping a sharp eye on the door but he can't help but enjoy watching you work, grumbling about what a stupid place this was for a fuse break and how it would have been harder to wreck their engine had it actually been where all the ships power came from. He grins at you and you smile back tugging the, whatever it was, out of the wall. He tosses his pack over to you.

“I'll get this one birdie,” making you roll your eyes but you gently place it in and hand it back.

“Take care of that.”

“I'll cradle it as if it were a new-born.” He says so sincerely you can't help but snort.

“Don't worry too much, ships like these are made hardy, they don't just fry things like your pod.” He scowls playfully at you as you head back to the corridor.

“I will not hear a negative word about her, we've been together for years.”

The ship groans around you as if it's a living creature as you head deeper in. The maze of corridors makes Ezra feel turned around but you seem to know where to go and he follows dutifully. The next stop is a storage closet smaller than his little burrow.

Inside is a collection of boxes from which you produce two tiny discs. You look at Ezra, “I doubt they'll mind me taking a spare, these things are expensive.” Still not being entirely sure what everything you're searching for is, he just shrugs,

The moment of ease sputters out when you enter comms. There's a buzzing that sets your teeth on edge, someone's been on the radio. Ezra clicks it off but the silence is suddenly oppressive. Trying hard to hear any sign of life you scan the dark corners of the space.

“We don't know how long this has been on.” Ezra’s voice is steady but there's an edge you know too well. You agree all the same, hurrying to rip the tubing out from under the console. The blinking lights shut off with a hum as Ezra takes it from you, looping it together and shoving it into his pack. You don't argue.

Two items left, you'd saved the cockpit and the engine till last, both at the opposite end of the ship.

The door to the cockpit is open. you look at Ezra, his jaw is set glaring into it. You head in first moving swiftly to the control panel to the side to start pulling the whole thing apart for one measly chip. He disappears into the shadows to search the room. It's too big, too many places to hide, he thinks to himself trying to picture the best place for an ambush.

He finds one body, curled in on itself as if tossed into the corner. The next is under a nav table, arms over its head. The final one is the hardest to look at, in the pilot seat, hand still grasping the parachute release. He swallows as he takes in this futile effort to survive, picturing the final moments as the ground rises to meet them, the hopelessness.

He spins when he hears your voice.

“Wait, wait!”

“You should have stayed away-“

Ezra doesn't even think, he just shoots and the man with a blade at your throat drops. He didn't even know he could draw that fast. He fights off the adrenaline, calming his breathing as he approaches you. Your eyes are wide with shock and you take a deep breath looking up at him.

“Thank you, Ezra.”

He just wants to pull you close, hold you against him, protect you with his body. With the suits and helmets, it would be uncomfortable so he grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest.

“Think nothing of it.”

“I didn't think there could be any survivors.” At that he examined the body. Shit, the suit, the emblem, the skull etched into the glass of his helmet.

“That, little bird, is because there aren't any. It appears that the locals are here.”

You squeeze his hand. “We've got to hurry.”

He nods, “Give me three coins.”

He’s found them. You'd already known they'd be dead but the confirmation sits heavily over you. You hand him the coins.

“You finish here, I'll take care of them. Don't worry.”

The kindness he's showing by doing it for you aches in your chest. You take the frustration out on the unsuspecting control panel. Tearing into it, pulling parts out, desperately trying to get a grip on your emotions and breathe a sigh of relief when you emerge, chip in hand. No one has ever extracted one so quickly you reckon. You shove it in your pack.

Heading to Ezra you take his hand, try to convey thanks through the touch alone. Thanks for saving you, thanks for not making you bear this burden solitarily, thanks for just being company after so long alone. You look up at him, he's chewing his words again but doesn't speak so you turn and lead him out.

In the engine room you seize a battery and yank it from the wall, grateful the lights stay on. Ezra takes it from you. “Don't argue birdie I'm bigger than you.”

He's cut off by a horn echoing through the ship. You swallow.

Taking his hand again, you both creep out of the room. Every sound is too loud, you curse your boots, the rattle of your tools, your own harsh breathing. You can't fail now, you're so close. At the sound of footsteps, you pull Ezra through a door into a room with bunks, closing the door as quietly as you can, you both hold your breath. As they pass the door his grip tightens on yours so much you feel the heat of his hand through your gloves. His eyes scan your face, like he's trying to memorise what you look like. You realise you’re doing the same to him.

When they pass you glance around the room as Ezra slumps against the door his eyes shut tightly. As you let go of him you see something in the corner of your eye. No fucking way. It's a gem case, unassuming on the outside but far bigger than the one Ezra carried. Item number six.

You shove it into your bag.

⧫⧫⧫

Neither of you seem to breath for the rest of your journey through the ship. Eyes and ears too peeled to do much else. The second you see the light outside you swallow. You say a prayer to yourself as you creep towards it.

The light blinds you as you step out. Something shoves you to the side, you hit the ground hard knocking the wind out of you as you try to see what hit you. The second your eyes adjust to the light you see Ezra trying to knock back one of the locals, trying to gain space to draw. You wrestle your pistol out of your holster and aim but you can't shoot. Their dance is too close and you're afraid to hit Ezra.

It all happens in slow motion. The stranger thrusts his spear into Ezra's stomach and pulls it out. He cries out stumbling back giving you a straight shot. You fire the same moment as the local brings his spear down on Ezra’s helmet.

You shoot too late.

Ezra drops back against the ship sliding to sit. Shattered glass glitters over the ground around you threatening to cut your knees as you crawl to him. His helmet is shattered.

“No no no no no” you press on the wound in his stomach tugging your pack off your back to get the med kit. “We've got to go, there's going to be more of them.”

He puts a hand over yours. “Little bird, I'm afraid my adventure has come to its conclusion”

You look at his face. “No Ezra! I can close this for now, we've got time. We can make it back.” His eyes are wide and sad, wet with the threat of tears. “Don't look at me like that!” There's desperation in your voice.

“You've got to go. Relieve yourself of my burden, you can repair the vessel and get away by yourself. You don't need me.”

“Shut up! I can't just leave you here.” You push his hands away and pull out a gun of sealing foam “Don't fucking argue with me, we've got so close you can't just give up.” Ignoring his arguments, you press the nozzle through his suit and fill his wound. He lets out a groan. As quick as you can, you pull your pack back on and stand seizing Ezra's arms and heaving him to his feet. He gives a short shout of pain but doesn't protest as you hook his arm over your shoulder for support.

You start to walk like this as the suns begin to dip. Keeping your pistol in your free hand you scan around you. The dead trees provide good cover but they also give any attackers the element of surprise so you do your best to listen out whilst you support Ezra.

It's a little difficult with his talking but you can't complain, not when it means he's still alive. But he's getting heavy, putting more weight on you, you don't know how long you can hold him up. Just as you're beginning to feel truly weak his topic of conversation changes.

“Little bird, it has been an exponential honour to be enclosed within your company. To have your trust if only a little. Kevva, the chance to learn your body the way I got to was a treasure worth more than any gem I could find. I only wish I could learn your mind just as intimately, to possess the knowledge of what makes you laugh, cry, your favourite food, favourite music. I'd cherish every drop of yourself you'd let me have until I could carry a vault of you with me”

“Ezra, don't…”

“The opportunity is being stolen from me, I both resent it and I'm so grateful for the time I've had. Little bird, don't let my soliloquy deceive you. I mean every word.”

You can't stop moving, but you grab onto him a little tighter. Letting yourself squeeze your eyes closed just for a moment to fight off the tears. There's no guarantee he'll survive, no hope yet, no point admitting feelings just to let him die. It would hurt too much.

You keep walking. Reminding Ezra to breath as slow as he can. Holding yourself together just to keep him upright.

Then you see it, your pod, through the trees, dark against the burning red sky.

There are two locals at the door. They turn.

Before you can think to react, Ezra pushes you aside as a spear careens where you'd just been stood. Drawing before you can blink, he fires twice. The locals fall. And then, so does he.

⧫⧫⧫

You aren't sure if you're saying his name out loud or just in your head. You roll him into his back and try to shake him awake. He doesn't even stir.

Instead, you seize the straps of his pack and use them to drag him towards your pod.

Your muscles are screaming after supporting him for so long but you don't let up, drawing strength from who knows where.

How did the pod seem so close minutes ago? Now it's miles away.

You don't know when you started crying.

You don't stop moving, can't stop until you've managed to pull him inside and seal the door. You yank off your helmet, tossing it aside and falling to your knees next to him pressing your ear to his chest, desperately trying to hear his heart through his suit.

It's dead silent.

That's when you scream. Tears streaming down your face you bring your fist down on his chest as hard as you can.

“Breath you bastard! Take a fucking breath!” You're sobbing now, “You can't just leave me here, leave me all alone. Not after all this. Not when we got so close.”

You curl over him pressing your face to his, your tears dripping onto him leaving tracks through the dust and blood on his skin. “You can't leave me alone,” it's barely a whisper. “Ezra.” You say his name over and over again like a prayer.

And then his chest moves.

You don't know whether you should laugh. You just keep bawling as you tear off his suit and grab his hand.

He doesn't wake up but it's enough, you squeeze his warm hand for another second before wiping at your face and getting your med kit. “Let's see what I can do about this wound hmm?”

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra hears someone calling his name. But they seem so far away. He tries to move towards the voice but it's like moving through syrup. He lets himself sink back.

⧫⧫⧫

The wound is deep and spurts with blood as you pull out the foam, painting your hands in the same red as the sky outside. Pursing your lips, you apologise to him, hoping he doesn’t feel the pain. Cleaning the wound takes time but as far as you can tell the spear managed to avoid all his organs so you seal it up as best you can. The lack of oxygen is what has you truly worried, who knows what damage could have been done in the time it took you to drag him to the pod. With your medication he might heal but you can’t be sure. You fight off the thoughts of what you’d have to do if he never did wake up. Would you be able to bury him?

You sleep curled to his side, a hand on his shoulder. It’s fitful, plagued by nightmares of waking up to find him cold. Every time you wake up crying, you watch his chest rise and fall and pray, he’ll make his way back to you.

⧫⧫⧫

The next thing he hears is a clang followed by a curse, then it's silent again

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra made it through the night. To distract yourself from worrying he might never wake, you wrap him up warm and begin to repair the pod. It’s slow work but its methodical movements help regulate your breathing. Until you hear a grunt. You drop whatever you were working on and swear to yourself as you kneel by him. But he’s no more present than before. Perhaps you had imagined it. Prayed so hard you’d began torturing yourself. You look over him, how could you go on without him. No one to make you laugh, or care what happens to you. It’s justice you suppose, just another thing for you to feel guilty about. You suppose you’ll go on just to keep feeling that guilt.

Again, you barely sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

And then, as if surfacing from a dive, Ezra opens his eyes. His back hurts. He works out why as, slowly, he identifies the ceiling above him. He's lying on the floor with nothing more than a pillow and a blanket that's been tucked all around him up to his neck. He wrestles his arms free, stretching them above his head and then prodding his stomach, it's tender but the wound is closed. Then he sits up with a grunt.

You're stretching up to try and pull a ration bar of the top shelf of your measly kitchen cupboard. You swear and turn to find something to climb on and then you see Ezra.

He's sitting up, grinning from ear to ear. You nearly jump a foot into the air and then you’re frozen to the spot. He chuckles to himself and clambers to his feet, it looks difficult but you aren't sure you can move to help so you stay put as he supports himself along the wall and approaches you.

“Little bird, you are the most incredible, fascinating, stubborn creature I have ever laid my eyes upon.” And then he's pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in such a grip it's a little difficult to breath but you don't mind. You just hug him back, if gently, very aware of how he'd recently been stabbed. He buries his nose in your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Three days, I managed to melt down some meds to inject you so you… well, so you actually healed. Oh, and then I fixed the pod but it didn't feel safe to take off what with you having a hole in you.”

He laughs, you can feel it rolling through his body and it makes you grin. It's so alive.

“May I also ask why I was on the floor?” That's your cue to laugh to.

“Do you honestly think I could lift you onto the cot?”

“Frankly little bird, I didn't think you could have got me to the pod. You are certainly a force to be reckoned with and not one to be underestimated.”

You close your eyes and breath him in. “I almost didn't make it.” He just shushes you running his hands up and down your sides.

“No point wondering what could have been birdie. You saved me.” You look up at him, his eyes are wet as he smiles down at you. “What I did to deserve it may evade my knowledge forever, but it must have been spectacular.”

You feed Ezra and then force him to stay still for the day. Even as he protests you don't really think he minds, finally getting an opportunity to finish reading ‘The Power’. You sleep curled into his side.

The next day you leave.

⧫⧫⧫

Two days floating in space before the station slings back to pick you up. The sense of relief is immense. Ezra is in the seat next to you, any other person telling such a graphic tale about a flight home wrong would've sprung anyone with nerves but you just grin. You made it, you both made it.

“Even split, little bird? Although, I can't say I find the idea of us separating particularly appealing.”

You grin, “Me neither, although I do maintain the even split, you save my arse, I save yours.”

He smirks, “I'll have your arse anytime” you smack his knee with what was formerly his copy of ‘Perfume’. He scowls playfully, tossing his own book aside and tugging you into his lap.

And then looks totally bemused as your mouth drops open, “Holy shit I can't believe I forgot!” You hop off him and he grumbles at you but watches curiously wondering what you'd forgotten that was so important. You kneel to open your pack, pulling out a gem case. A huge gem case.

“Where in that abhorrent hell did you manage to acquire that?”

“I think it was why I was told to bring down that ship, I picked it up in the bunk room.”

It's locked but you happily spend the next half an hour gently taking apart one screw at a time. Ezra watches you the whole time, not even thinking about your bounty, just enjoying how you hum to yourself and smile every time a screw comes loose, batting his hands away every time he grabs at you. It's domestic.

You meet his eye as the last screw comes loose and he joins you kneeling on the floor. “Let's not get our hopes up” you say, “We've got more than enough to last a while whatever happens.” He nods and you pull the case open.

His jaw drops. “That is remarkable.”

You meet his eye and laugh. You've never seen him look so surprised. There are three gems inside, each one about the size of your head.

He lets out a huff of laughter “I’m beginning to suspect there was nefarious business afoot on that ship…”

“Ezra?”

“Mmhm?”

“I think I'd like to go somewhere with a sea.”

“Little bird, I suspect that can be arranged” Then he kisses you, pulling you against him.

You wriggle back, “Even split?” He just grins and bites at your ear.

In no time at all you’re in his lap as you pull off each other’s clothes. He rubs his beard against your bare neck to make you giggle as he nibbles it, hands roaming all over you. You nip his collar bone making him groan, it flips a switch in him and seconds later he’s grabbing your hips to position you over his cock.

He lowers you down so slowly it makes you squirm and whimper and beg him to move.

He grins at you, catlike, “We’ve got all the time in the world, little bird. And I intend to use it”

⧫⧫⧫

Hours later you wake. Ezra is snoring quietly into your neck tempting you to rouse him. You’re thirsty though, so, reluctantly, you peel his arms off you to get a glass of water. As you return your toe catches on your suit where it lies on the floor. As you reach to move it your ring drops out of the pocket, clinking quiet onto the ground.

You bend to pick it up and look at Ezra, then back at the ring. Had you not gone through all those years in that gang of pirates, you’d never have found him, never got to save his arm or his life. You both might be dead. You had been right; you couldn’t change your past. But you’d never know what else might have happened. There’s still guilt, there always will be. But you feel a little lighter.

You put on the ring and return to Ezra. He pulls you against his chest without waking.

You smile.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @engineeredfiction @mothandpidgeon @sleep-tight1

#ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect 2018 #pedro pascal #ezra fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x afab reader #smut #oh god I've done it

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pairing: mikaela hyakuya x reader

words: 3921

i havent written anything coherent in. some time. also this wasn’t a request but mika is my all time favorite character. my HEART requested this.

"Do you and (Y/n) have some weird staring contest that no one knows about except you?"

The question is so sudden, so out of the blue, that he looks away from the aforementioned soldier only to find himself squinting up.

His target takes a step to the side, blocking the sun from his view, but he still blinks a few times before he can clearly make out the boy.

"What on earth are you talking about?" despite no longer staring at the sun, this sight also makes his eyes narrow unhappily.

Much like the sun, Yuichiro smiles down at him brightly. Much more toothily. Though, thankfully, Yuu also didn’t make him burst into flames, which was also a plus in his book.

However, maybe not so much right now.

"You and (Y/n)," he says, his voice uncharacteristically low, further adding to Mikaela’s growing suspicion about this conversation, "What else?"

He says it so casually as if they were discussing no more than the weather. But Mikaela knew damned well this went deeper. A sense of deja vu padding in the from the corner of his mind.

So, albeit reluctantly, he leans over to the boy, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, his ruby gaze leaves Yuu to return home where they had been and often were.

Thankfully, they’re none the wiser about what’s happening, still sitting a couple of yards away from them, their hands animatedly gesturing before them like their life depended on it as they explained something to the Hiragi settled across from them.

He says, very quietly to Yuu, "Did Shinoa put you up to this?"

To which, Yuu responds, just as hushed, "If I say yes will you still tell me?"

He fights back against the small upwards tug of his lips at his friends’ reliable antics as he sits up straight again. Always so honest.

"Mika?" Yuu quickly worries, his voice growing a little higher in pitch as he begins to clumsily backtrack, "I meant- no. Shinoa didn’t say anything. It’s me. I’m asking. Why would Shinoa ask?"

"So, Shinoa did say something?" He muses, mostly just to mess with the ravenet.

As if to further stir the pot, the lavender haired leader’s eyes briefly flicker over to them, coming dangerously close to meeting his own gaze, before focusing back on the soldier before her.

(Y/n) doesn’t notice this occurrence either, now making an odd motion that made Mikaela’s brows draw. Their face is a little intense now as they try to clearly convey their point. One hand was splayed out flat and the other made a swirling motion above it. Mikaela briefly wonders what they were rambling about this time.

"Fine, fine," Yuu huffs, drawing his attention again but not enough to make him look away, only continuing to watch the pantomime of the (h/c) haired individual, "Shinoa maybe- uhm, sort of, shined a light on your problem."

At least, he continues watching her until those last words reach his ears, making Mikaela abruptly turn, "My problem?"

Yet, Yuu only grins at him, happy as ever, meeting Mikaela’s gaze with those big emerald puppy dog eyes without a care in the world, "Yup."

Mikaela only offers him a displeased look rather than an actual answer.

The only problem he had was that Shinoa was poking her nosy little nose where it didn’t belong, directly in Mikaela’s personal business.

(Y/n), on the other hand, was never a problem.

As long as they were smiling- and they often were- he was sure everything was right in the world. Over the months they had spent together, getting stuck in confined spaces, shoving back to back during combat, and even bickering with each other on the rare occasion, Mikaela could probably even write an entire guidebook on how to properly handle and care for the individual.

He was still considering the silly handbook idea when he found himself looking at a familiar shade of (e/c).

(Y/n) was looking at him, he realized, and judging by the teasing nudge Shinoa gave their shoulder this wasn’t something they had originally thought of.

Despite this, their strawberry lips curve upward at the corners to give him a toothy smile. Their (e/c) eyes twinkling as they hold his under the warm sun shining high above them.

They lift a smaller hand and wiggle it at him.

Mikaela does the same, subconsciously smiling back at them, but only a smidgen.

Mikaela had many problems, but not (Y/n) and that was certain.

However, an elbow suddenly burrowing between his ribs does add to this list of dilemmas, "Oooh! Did you see that? They’re looking at you!"

The sudden rise in Yuu’s voice makes him return the favor, except he’s significantly more gentle, "I would have never noticed."

Even though Mikaela is sure they couldn’t have heard his grumble, he watches the way their eyes light up, the hand they were waving at him with quickly darting up to muffle their laughter.

It makes his heart soften the same way it always did, ready to slip through the cracks of his rib cage like slow dripping honey.

However, Yuu nearly knocking his head into Mikaela’s forces him to divert his attention to the believed idiot next to him as he all but theatrically whispered to him- hand cupped around his mouth and everything- "Shinoa thinks they have a crush on you."

Well...

Mikaela sure hoped so.

He doesn’t cup his mouth like a dumbass, but whispers back, "Really? What makes her think that?"

This seems to stump Yuu, because he leans back, causing Mikaela to look over at him and watch as he scratches his head.

The ravenet quickly glances over at Shinoa, giving her a puzzled look.

Mikaela’s eyes draw to the lavender haired girl who catches Yuu’s gaze and makes a face back, her brows furrowing.

Then, he looks back at Yuu who shrugs at her in response.

Before then again at Shinoa who flashes him a scowl. He could practically hear her exact thoughts. Definitely something along the lines of ‘Do I really have to do everything myself?’.

Mikaela snorts quietly. She should’ve known and picked someone else to interrogate him. Almost anyone other than Yuu might have made her some inkling of progress.

"Okay, well, I don’t know about that," Yuu says, as if it weren’t obvious he had no idea what he was talking about, "But I know about you."

Mikaela raises a brow at this, "Me? What about me?"

Those ivy eyes find him, glinting with a sense of determination, "Do you like (Y/n)?"

Mikaela almost smiles.

"Of course," he responds dutifully, "They’re part of your squad. I have to."

A little bit of a white lie but it’s more than worth it to watch Yuichiro’s face twist in distaste, obviously expecting a different answer.

"No!" He huffs, lifting his arms with a flurry to cross them over his chest, "I mean- do you like like them?"

Mikaela tilts his head, looking at his age-old friend under his lashes with an all but teasing smirk, "You sound like some kind of schoolgirl, Yuu-chan."

This only serves to frustrate the boy more, "Mika."

"Yuu," he chirps back mockingly.

His eyes have drifted back to (Y/n) though, who is oddly looking at Shinoa with a disturbed expression, making Mikaela pause. That is- until Shinoa leans forward with a grin stretching across her delicate face from ear to ear. He can probably guess what’s happening there.

Mikaela decides he’s thankful Shinoa chose Yuichiro to interrogate him about this matter rather than taking a go at him herself.

He also takes a second to silently apologizes to (Y/n) who clearly does not have this luxury.

"You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, you know," the boy next to him declares uselessly, "I need answers, Mika."

Unfortunately for Yuu, Mikaela had watched him do a multitude of stupid things for many years now. He had even been dragged into most of these stupid acts as an accomplice and impulse control.

Meaning...

Mikaela could play dumb all day.

"Answers about what?"

(Y/n)’s eyes narrow.

They take a step to one side.

The mirror across from them does the same.

(Y/n) takes a step to the other side.

Again, the latter follows in suit, toe for toe.

(Y/n) takes a step back.

They take a step forward.

"Would you stop that?" They finally huff, squinting at their opponent unabashedly.

Shinoa was damn near shameless, asking without missing a beat, "Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No!" They squawk, still unused to her bold questions, despite having been her subordinate for at least a year now.

"Oh, oh! What about this?" Shinoa’s lips curl upward in such a grin that puts the Cheshire Cat to shame, "Has he... Y’know?"

She taps her neck with a delicate finger.

(Y/n) voiced her inquiry flatly, "Has he sucked my blood?"

Her coffee-colored eyes light up in response, so they quickly shoot this second wind down.

"No, of course not," they wave away the idea with their hand, "Do I look like a chew toy to you, Shinoa?"

(Y/n) suddenly wasn’t so sure they wanted to know what Shinoa thought they looked like, so they quickly turn on their heels, "Actually, never mind, don’t answer that."

"Oh come on! You’re telling me he hasn’t put the moves on you at all?!" She asked, as if it were an outrage, "Not even one singular move, (Y/n)?"

They don’t even warrant her with a response, continuing to walk along the cracked and battered street.

After a short meeting after breakfast this morning, they had come to the notion they should probably go scavenging in the nearby area for supplies. They would divide and conquer and be back at the rendezvous point in an hour.

Unfortunately for (Y/n), Shinoa had practically thrown her arms around them and strangled them as she declared them as their partner for the day.

Even more unfortunate, most of the area they had agreed to scavenge had turned out to be inaccessible due to debris and overgrowth, so only forty minutes later they found themselves at the place they agreed to meet at.

Alone.

With Shinoa.

This, of course, was after they thought they had escaped this morning’s weird Shinoa-involved-shenanigan.

Everything had been fine. They had just been talking about (favorite hobby) and (Y/n) had maybe gotten a little distracted explaining the details, when suddenly things took a turn for the worse.

Shinoa had nudged them and brought to their attention Mika was looking at them, and like an idiot, (Y/n) had turned to stupidly smile at him and wave.

...

Okay, so, (Y/n) didn’t regret greeting Mika but they definitely regretted the unprecedented consequences of that action.

Ever since then, Shinoa had been pestering them about some silly crush they had on the blond vampire. Asking them ridiculous questions and poking and prodding and doing the most to mess with them.

(Y/n) could only hope their apparent Prince Charming would swoop in and save them from the she-demon’s grilling.

"At least tell me you’ve held hands."

(Y/n) lifts both their hands to their face.

And buries a very quiet, very repressed yell into them.

Shinoa is, of course, unfazed by this and only giggles at their misery.

"You know... all this would go away if you just told me the truth~"

(Y/n) did know one thing- and that one thing was Shinoa. If hypothetically, they did slip up and say something, anything, they knew damned well that would only result in a million and one more questions.

If Shinoa got even so much as a centimeter on them, she would assuredly take a mile.

So, they find their composure and bluntly reply, "I already told you."

(Y/n) turns to face Shinoa, crossing their arms over their chest and flashing the girl a sour look, "There is nothing going on between me and Mika. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

Shinoa gazes back unwaveringly, holding their gaze like a lifeline, staring into the depths of their very soul as she tried to pick them apart like a broken clock.

(Y/n) is reminded to glance down at their watch. They note there is still a good ten minutes left until the rest of their team needed to be back.

But Shinoa’s sudden rise in voice makes them immediately look back up.

"Well, if it isn’t thing one and thing two," she cheerfully sneers at guests behind themself, making them glance over their shoulder curiously, mostly just relieved to have the girl’s attention off them for now.

They’re not surprised at all to find Yuichiro marching along, fists swinging at his sides with a bounce in his smiling step as he makes his way over.

Mikaela trails behind him, looking nowhere near as amused with the world, seeming a little more withdrawn into his white cloak than usual, like a little hermit crab.

The sight instantly makes their lips quirk upward.

"Took you guys long enough," they greet, more than happy to turn away from Shinoa and all her prying questions to see them, "Find anything good?"

Yuichiro nearly cuts them off before they’re finished asking, "I found a chocolate bar!"

It’s more than enough to make a big smile break out across their own lips, but it’s nothing compared to the proud way Yuu is beaming about his discovery.

"That’s... great... what about actual food? Clean water? Toilet paper?" Shinoa deadpans next to them as the two boys slow to a stop.

(Y/n) hums at this. She was only joking, but she did have a point. Maybe this area was too war-torn to effectively scavenge. It wasn’t like it was uncommon. Sometimes the only good thing to come from a place like this was a really good sneeze from all the dust or a cool looking rock.

But this idea is dispelled from their mind at a sudden rustle, before their eyes focus again on Mika who pushes a gloved hand past his cloak, revealing a plastic bag of what appeared to be some kind of supplies.

(Y/n) claps their hands together, smile returning to their features, "Oh! Nice job, Mika!"

Only for Shinoa to ‘accidentally’ shoulder check them as she reaches forward to take the bag, not so subtly mocking, "Yeah! Nice job, Mika."

However, before they can look away and rebuttal, Mikaela looks up at them, his brows knitting together and flashing them an odd look as if to ask them what the hell Shinoa was on about this time.

And just like that (Y/n)’s annoyances fizzle out instantly, a match dropped into a puddle, replaced by a laugh stirring from their chest as they muster a subtle shrug in response.

They swear for a split second they can see the corners of his lips tug upward before he forces them back down, shaking his head back at them.

Though he doesn’t say anything, they nod in agreement, silently sharing his exasperation.

"Hey, quick question-"

Their attention shifts from the blond vampire to find Yuu squinting at them, brows furrowed as he leans forward to peer at them.

It makes (Y/n)’s brows knit too, mirroring his expression but with worry instead of curiosity as they leaned back in response.

"Why are you covered in dirt?"

(Y/n) groans, quickly reaching up to shake their fingers through their usually silky locks, hoping to get most of the dust out.

Damned end of the world debris.

The next time Mikaela got to talk to (Y/n) was hours and hours later, much to his dismay.

It was nightfall now and the Shinoa squad had hauled up in a small easily defendable inn that Yoichi and Kimizuki had stumbled across during their own scavenging earlier in the day. The last few hours had been spent securing it as a temporary base of operations.

(Y/n) had volunteered for the first watch, but claimed the room at the end on the bottom floor.

Mikaela had decided on the room next to theirs and had waited there for an hour and a half until he was sure all the others were fast asleep in their beds. He was sure none of them were skipping out on this luxury, since they usually slept cramped up in the car or on the cracked and uneven concrete.

The wait was worth it because when he silently stepped out of his temporary room, he found the (h/c) haired individual standing outside like they had agreed, poking at a small fire they had started with a stick.

The firelight casts a golden crown on their silky (h/c) locks much like a halo and paints their familiar face an expensive flickering shade as they gaze down at the flame in boredom.

"Long day?" He speaks up, but that’s an overstatement. His voice is almost as quiet as the fire crackling and the distant chirping of crickets filling the warm summer night air around them.

Still, those (e/c) eyes flicker up and brighten instantly at the sight of him.

"You could say that," they respond evenly, a welcome hint of amusement tinging their softened voice as they all but throw their stick elsewhere, revealing to Mikaela their barrel withheld excitement. It warms his heart to know they’re so happy to see him, but he saves them the embarrassment of voicing it.

As Mikaela draws closer to them, the gravel crunches under his feet and also with their own movements when they take a seat next to the fire, quickly motioning for him to sit down too.

He does so, unbothered by the heat that greets him, but knowing their affinity for not freezing to death, being alive and all. Proof in the pudding, they were already shuffling closer to steal his warmth, wrapping their arms around their figure.

"I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you all day," they comment suddenly, making Mikaela look over at them with a slight alarm.

But he forces himself to relax when they nudge his shoulder with their own, listening to their gentle words, "Thanks for coming out."

Mikaela can’t help the small smile that finds him as he nudges them back ever so lightly, replying just as softly, "I wouldn’t miss you for the world."

"Oh, so you don’t miss me?" They snort, turning their face to look up at him blankly under their dark lashes, keeping their face carefully clear.

He scrunches his nose up at their silly antics, feeling the urge to shove them playfully but repressing it in fear of them actually moving away, "You know what I meant."

(Y/n)’s lips upturn with a small grin, "Maybe, maybe not..."

They lean closer daringly, nearly bumping noses with him as they tease, meeting his icy gaze with their (e/c) one, "Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

Mikaela indulges them, trying to convince himself that he could resist their charms if he really wanted to.

"I missed you too, (Y/n)," he breathes quietly into the air, lightly leaning forward to further decrease the space between them, resting his forehead lightly against theirs.

They gently push back against his head with their own, playful as ever, "I know."

"Do you?" He mocks, lashes sinking against his cheeks as he recalls, "Because I distinctly remember you telling Shinoa earlier that I meant nothing to you."

This time, they pull back a little to head butt him, adding a smidgen more force with faux annoyance, "That is not what I said and you know it."

"You told her I was gum on your shoe," he retorts, cracking his eyes open a smidgen to peer at them smugly, "You said you’d never seen me in your life."

"I did not, shut up," they whine, reaching a hand up in the minuscule space between them to rest his chin in the area between their pointed finger and thumb which came up to squish his cheeks.

It’s a funny feeling smiling as someone messes with your face.

"Besides, what was I supposed to tell her? The truth?" They utter, looking up at him under their lashes and arching a brow, "Because I’m sure she’d be over the moon if I waltzed in and woke her up right now to tell her that I like like you.”

Mikaela watches them steadily as their hand travels up his face to cup his cheek affectionately, "You like like me?”

(Y/n) smiles at him lazily and he admires the way the fire next to them flickers and reflects in the shine of their lively (e/c) eyes, “Shinoa’s words, not mine.”

He hums, eyes sinking closed again as he melts into their warm touch, “You know, she tried to rope Yuu into it too. Maybe she thought she could cover more ground that way or something."

The idea almost makes him snort, but he holds back, melting further into the quiet moment shared between them.

"Did you tell him?" They inquire, brushing their thumb lightly along his cheekbone. Mikaela didn’t need sleep but was certain if he ever did fall asleep again this would be how.

"Not yet," he mumbles, but saying it out loud lets a small prickle of guilt finds him, "I’d rather tell him when he wasn’t being peer pressured to ask me."

"It’s not like he’s going to notice by himself, Mika," (Y/n) retorts, but he can hear their lovely smile in the way their voice draws.

"I know," he responds lightly.

He turns his head in their hand and lovingly presses a kiss to the soft of their palm.

"Let’s not worry about them right now though. Tonight is ours."

Instead of swooning at his YA romance worthy one-liner, (Y/n) instead snorts, as if dumbfounded, "Wh- You cannot be jealous. They’re not even out here."

Mikaela’s eyes flutter open a crack only so he can flash them a sour look.

To which (Y/n) only pulls their hand away to fondly smile at him in response.

While he cherishes this look dearly, mentally taking a photograph of it to join the many others of their beautiful smile, he tells them point-blank, "Look, if you’re not going to cuddle, I’m going back to my room."

"See, that’s just cruel, you don’t even need sleep!" They argue, even as they wiggle closer to him, but they make sure to ‘accidentally’ nudge him a little roughly.

Mikaela hides his smile by resting his head on top of theirs as he welcomes them to his side wholeheartedly, lifting his arm and his cape before wrapping both snug around their figure and pulling them nearer, eliminating all space between them.

"But you do," he reminds them, patting their side fondly, "Now be quiet and close your eyes. I’ll keep watch instead."

"Quit being mean to me or I’ll go to my room," they mutter, and then add pointedly, maybe even a little quieter, "and I will sleep."

It’s not long before Mikaela realizes the reason why is because they were already halfway to snoozing, even as they mumbled that poor argument to him.

He can barely keep the smile off his lips long enough to press a feathery kiss to the top of their head.

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

#mikaela hyakuya #owari no seraph mikaela #mikaela x reader #mika x reader #mika #ons #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #seraph of the end mikaela #mikaela hyakuya x reader #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end x reader #breadkinswrites

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kanohivolitakk · 3 years

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Since its 3Hs anniversary some really cool things I like about the game that aren’t talked about enough because the fandom is too busy arguing who is right and who is wrong

The worldbuilding just. 3H has honestly one of my favorite fictional settings. Its just both expansive but also genuinely interesting. I have spent HOURS thinking about the world and made so many ocs its not even funny. I love thinking about the setting of the game so much.

I LOVE the puzzle like way the game explains its world and story. Like I know some people don’t like it because it makes the game a bit too convoluted but personally? I LOVE 3Hs way of not telling everything but rather giving hints and clues the player has to piece themselves. It makes the games world feel more interactive and feels so satisfying. Then again I enjoy that kind of approach to worldbuilding

In general I love 3hs fragmented story and the way how the story is placed in many different fragments. It is geniunely rewarding to replay the game from another storypath and notice the foreshadowing Would’ve the story been probably better had it been just one storypath? Honestly yes. But 3h is ambitious and one of the ways it is is with its fragmented story structure.

The structure of White Clouds is criminally underrated honestly and gets way more hate than it deserves. I love how the first few chapters set up the world of Fodlan and show injustices/conflicts of the world with chapters like the chapter where you face off Lonato for instance. Then the next few chapters are spend in deepening the mysteries such as the conspiracy against the church and the mystery regarding TWSITD. Then Jeralt dies and the last few chapters are spent as “beginning of the End” so to speak, as things clears to the intense climax.

On related note I LOVE how the game handles perspective and how the lords are the respective ways we view the story. I know so many people say “WHite Clouds is same on all paths” but I do feel that’s kinda the point. The story is the same but there are differences that come from the way each of the lords is strongly characterized and has different values, worldviews. The subtle changes on what are focused on in each route also foreshadow what will be focused on each route, which I think is super cool.

Even beyond the lords and routes the game does explore the idea of perspective well. I do think 3h has this very “everyone is the hero of their own story” type of approach to perspective and it shows it well. Each character believes they’re in the right and you can get this view that they view themselves as right. Even Agarthans who are the designated villains have this sense they think they’re in right and that the Nabateans were evil.

The way how games routes being divided into having a different focus is very cool. I love how AM is a smaller scale personal tragedy, how CF is a battle of ideals and how VW explores the world and reveals deeper mysteries. I also love how all of these are related to the lords ideals and worldviews: Dimitri is the most conflicted of the lords so he gets the most characterfocused story focused on . Edelgard is the most ideologically driven so her path focuses on her ideals and battle of wills against Rhea. Claude is the one who is the most freespirited and wants to know the truth so his route focuses on revealing the mysteries.

Also the way the houses characters reflect their respective routes storyline and central themes: Black Eagles are nobles that have conflicting relationships with nobility reflecting Edelgards goal, Blue Lions are all united with the trauma of Tragedy of Duscur, and Golden Deer are a house of misfits who give this “ragtag group who will save the universe with POWER OF FRIENDSHIP and this cool gun I found” vibes which fit the route PERFECTLY

I LOVE how the game plays with and subverts a lot of Fire Emblem tropes. While it does play some tropes straight (dad death and evil cult manipulating behind the scenes) it does do a lot to break from series conventions and playing with ideas to make a more ambitious story. The way it either subverts expectations (The evil emperor being female well intended extremist, Rhea being the Gharnef/Medeus instead of the Nyna archetype she’s presented as), twists familiar tropes to their natural extreme (Dimitris arc is basically the natural extreme end of stereotypical FE lord) and other similar things make the game feeling so planned out, like the writers understood FE stories and wanted to make something that challenges FE while still feeling like it.

The way how every major player acts as foil/pararell to another player is so GOOD. Every faction leader can be compared to the other somehow and that just makes the game SOOOO fun to analyze, trying to find all the similarities and differences and pararells is so rewarding.

A more specific example on this is how i love how the game plays with the idea of holy/sacred weapons. While normally these weapons are artifacts from goddess that defeat dragons, here the holy weapons are bones made from dragons and just???? HOW METAL IS THAT????????? It’s just such a neat way to subvert the idea of sacred weapons. Rather than being blessed creations of the goddess, they are weapons of destruction made by the villains.

I ADORE THE GAMES science fiction elements. I know people say they feel out of place but personally, they make the game memorable for me. I still remember the first time I saw that scene with nukes. I especially love the heavy implication that Sothis isn’t a goddess but rather a powerful alien. It makes her character much more interesting

I know a lot of people don’t like Agarthans but can I just say their backstory being “forced to hide after their land got conquered and desiring it back” making them a dark mirror not just 3h lords/Rhea but FE lords as whole is SO FUCKING METAL. This is what I mean with 3H writers knowing their tropes like back of their hand.

I love how in Part 1 sometimes you’d talk to two characters in Monastery at once instead of just one. It’s something I miss in part 2 honestly.

I love the small sidequests such as the fishing tourney and White Heron cup and wish Part 1 had more of them, it would’ve made the school part feel more alive.

I LOVE how some missions (esp paralogues) have subgoals that you can clear to get better rewards. I wish the game had been more clear with them or even made them main goals of maps sometimes.

I LOVE THE WAY Paralogues act as small gaiden stories that show more of the games world and characters. Its a neat way to let the sidecharacters shine and reveal some neat secrets of the games world and story.

The gameplay loop is honetly fun and satisfying. It is rewarding and while it gets tiring towards the end overall its a good gameplay loop.

I ADORE the aesthetic of Shambhala. Its just so sleek and sinister. The cyrillic letters spelling different words is so cool. Shambhala is my favorite map in the game and the aesthetic is a big reason why.

The games soundtrack is so good!!!!!!!!!! But not only that I LOVE the way its electro elements subtly hint of Agarthans being in control behind the scenes. This is especially cool in Road to Dominion where the electro parts are barely noticeable yet present. but other tracks have subtle electro vibes as well. The other way the games music tells the story (such as use of leitmotifs or how the monastery music changes once Jeralt dies) is great as well.

I love how 3h can be read as an allegory for reformation era and reneissance. Its such an interesting way to read the games events and compare it to a real historical periods there’s quite a bit of f

In general I ADORE the cultural references of the game. There’s surprisingly lot of way the games world is based on real life and the details are just *chefs kiss*

THE GAME IS DENSE WITH THEMATIC IDEAS. Besides the perspective the game tackles ideas of how trauma can affect a persons psyche and worldview (as well how a persons trauma affects the way they interact with the world which in turn can affect the world as well), grief, societal values, historical revisiniosm and so much more. The game tackles SO MANY topics in an interesting manner, it is thematically just as dense as it is storywise as well.

I also love how the games thematic parts work in harmony with the story rather than one overshadowing with the other. Its super refreshing honestly where a games themes and story are both rich and I don’t have to pick one over the other.

Lastly I ADORE the games central message (or at least what I see as the central message anyway): The world’s fucked up and most people want to fix it, but what they deem fixing differs and because of that they go into conflict or outright war rather than trying to find a common ground. Everyone wants a better world but no one can agree what a better world truly means so they fight over it. It was a theme that not only resonates with my personal values but also hit me REALLY hard when I first played it as it’s a theme that I found incredibly relevant and reflective of our own world during the time I played the game for the first time.

So yeah. I made this post since there’s SO MUCH neat things about the game, its gameplay and story that sadly get swept under the rug in favor of either arguing which lord was right/wrong or complaining how the game is an unfinished, rushed and overambitious mess. Is 3h perfect? Hell no. But it’s a game that I hold near and dear to my heart and does genuinely SO MANY THINGS RIGHT, I’m sad no one talks about the genuine strengths the game has anymore, instead just complaining.

I’m not even joking when I say that 3h should be up there as heralded as one of the best, most ambitious and complex JRPGs alongside Xenogears, the first Xenoblade game, Suikoden and Trails series as whole along other such games. Its a shame the games reputation is less like those games and more like Persona 5s where everyone focuses more on its flaws and the fans being annoying than the fact the game does geniunely A LOT right. It’s just that good, ambitious game I love so much.

#Kirika Talks #Fire Emblem #FE3h #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fire Emblem Meta

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imkylotrash · 3 years

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Black And White (Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Summary: Saul pops the question. Meant to be read as the last chapter of the series.

A/N This is the last chapter I’ll be writing for the Black And White series. Thank you so much for following along and making me smile with all your support and messages. I can’t wait for my new series to come out 💛

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

Five years past quickly. In the blink of an eye really. You stay at Alfea with Saul and in time, you’re hired as a teacher. You never expected to love being a teacher as much as you do, but seeing these young people turn into adults with their own opinions does something to you that you’re not sure you’d find in any other job.

“They’re getting good,” Saul notices as you’re watching over the graduates for this year. In less than two months they’ll be fully trained specialists ready to conquer the world. This time of year always gives you a feeling of nostalgia. You remember being in their shoes wondering where there’ll be a place for you.

“They’re getting too comfortable though. One of them actually mouthed off to me the other day,” you say still surprised they had the guts.

“You know, I remember a student much the same a couple of years ago,” he says daring to place his hand on your lower back. It still feels weird that you so openly can be affectionate towards each other even now.

Farah came around a couple of months later when she realised that this wasn’t just a tiny fling. You have a theory that she mainly accepted it to keep her friendship with Saul but you didn’t complain. You understood her.

“I was not that bad,” you protest to which Saul raises an eyebrow.

“You might want to give the others a chance,” Saul suggests looking back at the three others several feet behind you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” you reply careful to keep your voice down but clearly, Saul isn’t amused.

“I’ve been tracking since I was 5. I know these woods like the back of my hand,” you add quietly. Of course, he already knows this but he doesn’t seem to care right now. He’s not your Saul, he’s Mr. Silva and you hate it.

“Back of the line,” he says and you just can’t help yourself.

“Come on! I’m being punished because I’m too good? How does that even make sense?” you ask this time not caring if the others hear you. He can’t seriously be punishing you for being better than the rest.

“You just hate the fact that I’m better than you.” He pinches your side and you laugh thankful no one looks your way. You want the students to respect you, not see your boyfriend tickle you.

“I’m fairly certain you’re mistaken,” he smiles. As much as you love his company, you shoo him away needing to focus on the students. There’ll be plenty time for you to talk tonight on your date. Your phone buzzes with a text from Harry reminding you that’ll he be arriving around 10 am tomorrow and you can’t help but shake your head. That boy has changed his time of arrival five times now. You send a quick reply before returning to class.

The day passes by quickly and soon enough you’re walking hand in hand with Saul to the portal that’ll take you to Earth.

“So, where are we going?” you ask once you’re safely through the portal.

“You’ll see,” he says leading you to a black car which you find a little suspicious. It doesn’t take long before you realise where you’re heading but you don’t want to ruin the surprise so you keep quiet as the car approaches the planetarium. You’ve been talking about going to this place for almost a year now but your schedule hasn’t allowed you the time. Now, you’re finally here.

“You like it?” he asks helping you out of the car.

“I love it,” you whisper. He takes you straight to the stargazing area where he’s prepared with dinner in a basket and blankets to keep warm. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve him, but you know you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to give him even a smidge of the happiness he gives you.

“This is beautiful,” you say sitting down on one of the chairs and craning your neck to be able to take it all in. The entire ceiling is filled with stars shining down on you.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers holding your hand in his. You do as he says wondering what he’s got planned.

“Open.” You open your eyes to see the image of the starry night has changed. The stars spell out “Will you marry me?” You look over at Saul who’s gotten on one knee holding out a ring. Tears well up in your eyes and you frantically blink to be able to see everything. You don’t want to miss a second of this.

“Of course. Yes,” you whisper looking at the gorgeous ring in his hand.

“You have to let me ask first, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care. My answer is yes,” you burst out eager for him to put the ring on you. Inspecting the ring, you realise what it’s been reminding you off.

“Did you?”

“It’s my mother’s engagement ring. It matches the ring my father had.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m coming back for you.” He reaches out to touch you and you let him.

“You don’t know that,” you say choking back tears. He gently grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him.

“I promise you I’m coming back,” he whispers kissing your forehead. He gives you a minute to just breathe before gently placing two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up.

“You can’t promise something like that, Saul. No one can.” Images of your father leaving the house that morning flashes before your eyes proving that even with the best intentions, it doesn’t always go the way you intended.

“I can promise I’m coming back because I’ll need this back when I do.” He holds out his ring to you. It was his father’s ring and in the time you’ve known Saul he’s never taken it off. Carefully, he unlocks your necklace and adds the ring to the chain before closing the lock again.

“I love it,” you say cupping his cheeks and kissing him. You can’t get over how well planned this whole thing is. You never would’ve thought Saul to be such a romantic.

“There’s no stress. But I know someone is waiting very impatiently outside,” Saul says regret already in his eyes which gives you a pretty good feeling of who exactly is waiting outside.

“He can wait a little longer,” you smile kissing Saul again. You let him wait for half an hour before you head outside. Harry is leaned against the black car with a smirk.

“I thought you two lovebirds had forgotten all about me,” he says pretending to be freezing, “It’s been 84 years.” His voice tremors perfecting the reference.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” you say hugging him tightly. You’re so happy he’s here.

“That was the ruse to keep you from suspecting what was really going on. And I must say, I perfected my part.”

“I’m already regretting having involved you,” Saul says but he hugs him all the same. The two have developed a sort of love / hate relationship where they fight like brothers but have each other’s back at all times. You’re glad they work so well together because you have no idea how you’d divide your time between them.

“Can I see the ring? It’s the only thing grumpy over here kept to himself,” Harry says and you hold out your hand to let him inspect the ring. He takes a little too long just to keep Saul on his toes before looking up at you.

“It’s as beautiful as the person wearing it. Congratulations.” He pulls you in for another hug. You’re not sure what the future holds for you but you know you’ll be able to face it all as long as you have these two in your life.

#saul silva x reader #saul silva gif #saul silva blurb #saul silva imagine #saul silva #winx saul silva #ftws imagine #ftws blurb #ftws #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #winx saga #fate the winx club #winx club #fate winx #fate #fate netflix

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realbigpodcastslut · 3 years

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Should You Listen to King Falls AM?

(Update at the bottom)

Lately, I’ve seen a lot people looking to start KFAM and conflicting views on if you should listen. Being a fan for a long time, I’d like to put in my two-cents. I’m not going to tell you if you should listen or not, but I’ll present the facts so you can make your own choice.

Overall:

King Falls AM is a podcast, and out of the hundred+ I’ve listened to, it is definitely my favorite one and I always seem to be relistening to it. Taking place in the small town of King Falls, late-night radio hosts Sammy and Ben have to tackle the weird and whacky. It’s funny, the characters are amazing, and I just love the overall idea of love (platonic and romantic) conquering all. The music is also amazing. While the background music is to die for, this is really shown in their musical episode (which is done right).

Now, while it is my favorite podcast, there are a lot of faults. Representation is mishandled, there are problematic parts, and the creators and actors have had some not-so-great reactions to valid criticism. Also, the story is unfinished and there is no word if they’re coming back after COVID-19.

Characters:

I can’t deny, I love the characters (especially Lily Wright). The characters will worm their way into your heart until you fall in-love. Whether it’s the main characters of Sammy, Ben, (Emily, Troy, and Lily), or the townspeople, you’ll most likely end up loving them. And if you don’t love them, then you will hate them so much you love hating them. I’m going to avoid spoilers, but you will love these characters and feel for them. Even I, the stone-cold bitch that brags about not crying that much over media, ended up crying over them.

On the other hand, the characters are not the stellar representation that a lot of podcasts have. There are plenty of LGBT characters later on, but a lot of them are stereotypes. Archie, a gay man, is overly camp, and Jacob, a bisexual man, is sex-crazed. Though, I should point out that almost every non-main character is a stereotype, but this can be off-putting to a lot of people. Women are also not represented great. They’re pretty one-dimensional and while they grow, they’re sort of looked-down upon and hated. This changes around episode 90 where it is specifically called out on and episodes 75+ start to change this poor representation somewhat. Though the representation of POC is just bad, with Walt being a stereotypical Native American man and Storm Sanders an alcoholic. There is also a racist witch, while hated by everyone, is still suspicious.

Comedy:

King Falls AM is also extremely funny. There are several jokes they actually made me laugh out loud (hard to do) and in my relistens I still laugh. The character’s banter is hilarious and I just can’t state how funny some of the stuff is. While some stuff aren’t direct jokes, the absurdity of events are funny. For example, there is a vigilante named the Dirt who is basically a dimestore Batman in BDSM gear. Another thing is that there is a murderous Elf of the Shelf that says some things that are comedy gold. Even later on, they don’t sacrifice much of the comedy for arcs that will tear your heart out.

While the jokes are funny, there are many jokes that miss the mark and are not politically correct. One that sticks out is “Don’t assume my gender.” There are a lot of race jokes (ew) and quite a few on the holocaust. There are also a lot of gay jokes, which while sometimes done right, can make LGBT people uncomfortable. Especially when two characters (Archie and Lily) are made out to be too gay to function and make a lot of sexual jokes. This missing-the-mark is made clear as it is written by straight white men, which really can’t joke about stuff they don’t experience.

Themes:

The themes of KFAM are also good and you can’t ever go wrong with found-family. Love is the main aspect surrounding the show and whether platonic or romantic love, it’s embraced. I really enjoy how Sammy and Ben are able to say “I love you” to each other without it being seen as creepy or “gay.” Characters also grow for the better and are always pushing to be better. They even talk about mental health struggles and pushing each other up to be the best they can be. Lastly, the main storyline is compelling and it opens up for a lot of theorizing and trying to figure out what is going to happen (or what happened).

The themes of found family can be criticized over the fact that several characters already experienced found family due to being gay and already being a family, though I think this one is a little weak (but I included it). Some of the storylines may get boring and it can be a sort of slow-burn as things come to fruition. There are also plot holes (but not that noticeable).

Creators, Actors and Community:

This is the final point and the thing that has made many die-hard fans dislike KFAM and be ashamed for listening to it. Starting at episode 34, there was an episode on Helen Keller and it was essentially making fun of her. Obviously, fans did not like this episode and told the creators so. They did not apologize and basically said, “Sorry you didn’t like it.” Around April or March of 2020, one of the creators retweeted NSFW fan works and people told them how they needed to tag it, etc. They reacted poorly, only for a person to say “Death of the Author” (a literary idea where you ignore the author’s influence on a work), and then the creator freaked out, thinking this was a death threat. These were not the only events, so if you’d like to find out more, I have archived (with my friend) a decent amount on the blog @kfam-tea.

The community is also toxic. There have been a lot of times where die-hard fans will delete any criticism from the subreddit (though this has seemed to stop). These fans also started “attacking” WTNV after Cecil Baldwin (voice of Cecil) made a jab at other radio podcasts. The discord server is also closed off from everyone except those already on it, and they’ve deleted a lot of channels and such. Overall, the community is not the best and it’s quite divided.

Lastly, we don’t know if KFAM is coming back. While they said it was going to start after COVID-19, there’s reason to believe that isn’t the case. The creators unfollowed each other on Instagram and Twitter. There was a Reddit threat where people asked if it was coming back only for Kyle (co-creator) to call them entitled (yikes, I know). So far, there is another podcast made by everyone but Kyle and Trent (the actor for about half of the town).

Conclusion:

The choice to listen is up to you. You may or may not like it, but I’m not going to say this is strictly a terrible or amazing podcast. I think it is both. I fell in love with the story and while it has many, many, terrible warts, I think people should know what they are heading into. I see too many people either praising or hating KFAM completely, and it’s not fair. This story isn’t for everyone and has it’s bad moments, but it also has it’s wonderful moments. To listen, that is a personal decision for you to make.

UPDATE:

KFAM isn’t coming back and it left on a big cliffhanger so maybe don’t listen.

#kfam #king falls am #king falls #essay #long post #sammy stevens #Ben Arnold #kfam podcast #podcast #audio drama #i think this was needed for the community #i myself struggle with both enjoying this show and its warts #but i don't just want to tell people no #because if i hadn't listened then i would be a different person #this podcast has meant a lot to me personally and i really love it #slut.txt

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tartagilicious · 4 years

Text

[CN] victor’s double seventh/qixi date (eng)

this translation was a whole trip mythological aus are the best 😭 for this date, because his name is important to the plot, I decided to keep it as his CN name, Li Zeyan!

all of the qixi translations this year were divided up by a small group of translators, and you can find them on their blogs: @cheri-translates did Gavin’s, @redqueenschoice did Shaw’s and Lucien’s (though they’re available on Cheri’s blog), @skyholders did Kiro’s, and of course, I did Victor’s!

—

Soldier A: Where did you go?

Soldier B: There is no other way, they must have run into the woods!

Officer A: Chase them!

The voices of the officers and soldiers faded away. I slowly rose from the riverbank and made sure there was no one around. Finally, after a while passed, I stood up straight and took a few deep breaths.

Gripping the peach wood sword in one hand, I carefully picked up my skirt and prepared to step ashore.

??: who are you?

MC: !

As soon as I was about to act, my arm was suddenly pulled tightly, and the sword in my hand almost fell.

I turned my head to see a man behind me squinting at me, and his expression became even more gloomy when he saw my sword. With horns on top of his head, and a tail behind him trailing up to my legs, he seemed to want to impede my actions…

??: This sword…

MC: D-Demon!

I yelled desperately to avoid him, but he was too strong, my attempts ultimately having no effect.

Soldier B: I heard her voice! Over there!

Hearing the voices of officers and soldiers coming from the fork of the mountain road, me and the “Youkai” in front of me were both stunned.

[youkai (妖怪) are a class of supernatural monsters in japanese folklore, and the term doesn’t translate to anything directly, but traditionally means demon or spirit]

I was suddenly reminded of the importance of keeping the peach sword. I didn’t know where I borrowed the strength from, but I broke free of his shackles and forced him back into the water.

MC: Demon, since you haven’t had time to eat me, I won't involve you… so, you hide here, I have to go first!

I picked up my skirt to run once again, but the soaked clothes had since become heavier, and I almost couldn’t even stand firm when I left the river. A very light sigh seemed to be heard behind me, and I was pulled back into the water by force, my back pressing against a warm chest.

MC: you--

“Youkai” ignored me, just casually glancing at the soldiers and officers passing by. I followed his gaze and saw that the vines on the edge of the cliff moved by themselves, entangling the ankles of the officers and soldiers and throwing them back onto the mountain road.

MC: You… be merciful. They are annoying, but not deserving of death.

??: They are not qualified to be killed by me.

As soon as the voice fell, the several officers and soldiers got up and stumbled away. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when the “Youkai” behind me refocused on me.

??: What crime did you commit?

MC: I didn’t commit any crime! I only got my belonging back, it’s those people who are wrong.

I hugged the sword in my arms angrily, and noticing his gaze on me, I immediately regained my bearings.

MC: well… thank you for helping me just now, but can you please not eat me?

??: Didn’t you dare to push me into the water?

He pointed to the peach wood sword in my arms.

??: Is that what opens the barrier?

Barrier?

I looked down thoughtfully. I once heard my father say that there is a kind of barrier that can seal away monsters, and only a peach wood sword stained with one’s blood can break open the entrance. Since more than ten years ago, outside the barrier is no longer home to monsters, but--

MC: could it be that you are… the Guardian Saint Black Dragon?

MC: it’s really a dragon horn… the scales on your tail are so shiny! And wow.. Your clothes are satin. Did you make it yourself?

[stop it mc you’re embarrassing the both of us ;;]

Black Dragon: …

I didn’t expect that I would meet the Guardian saint, and my curiosity was overwhelming, so I forgot how fierce he was just now. Just when I wanted to study his hair again, he suddenly grabbed my hand and pressed me firmly into the shore.

Black Dragon: Have you touched enough?

MC: um…

Black Dragon: You are also a criminal..

I caught his dangerous gaze and swallowed nervously. His gaze moved down my face and finally stopped on the peach wood sword.

Black Dragon: Open the barrier again.

MC: What?

Black Dragon: Open it, and I can count it as you making up for just now.

I don’t know what the consequences of letting the Guardian saint leave without authorisation is, but I still obey what I feel in my heart and nod in agreement. The Black Dragon released his hold on me, but he kept his eyes on me as I walked away, as if he didn’t trust me to honour my promise.

MC: Lord Guardian, do you dislike humans?

Black Dragon: I just don’t trust them.

MC: hmm…. Humans can be very cunning. Someone did you a favour today, and you may be asked to return the favour later.

Black Dragon: ...What do you want to say?

I watched his expression and carefully considered my words.

MC: Now that I’ve promised to open the barrier, I will not break that promise. But, you’ve also seen the situation just now. If I go back like this, I definitely will not be able to keep this sword.

Black Dragon: Is it important to you?

MC: Yeah… My family has been slaying monsters for generations, and this sword is our heirloom. A while ago, the owner of the Jianzhu Workshop stole it. I took it back, but it seems that I’ll have to hide in the future.

Black Dragon: You come from a family that eliminates monsters, so why are you still afraid of them?

I recalled the exaggerated reaction just now, and chuckled embarrassedly.

MC: Because in the ten years since you were locked away, the world has been very peaceful. We have become accustomed to a world without monsters.

MC: Suddenly seeing someone that’s so different from me, of course I’ll be shocked…

The Black Dragon raised his eyebrows without further comment.

MC: Why don’t we make an exchange! I will help you open the barrier, and you will help me settle the situation. This must not be difficult for you.

Black Dragon: This is the “favour” you want me to pay back?

MC: Yes. I will set the conditions right now as to raise the value in the future. This is an exchange where you can make profit without losing anything.

The Black Dragon was silent for a while, and finally nodded gently

Black Dragon: I can help you, but you must protect important things in the future. Additionally, I won’t help you a second time.

MC: I will! Thank you, Guardian Lord!

I took him down the path and into the city, brainstorming how to have him move around the city without obstacles.

MC: By the way, when we go into town, is it possible that you can hide the horns and tail?

Black Dragon: I can.

He lowered his eyes and blinked, and the dragon horns and tails disappeared.

MC: Ok…. I still need to know your name.

Black Dragon: You do not need to know.

MC: Then, how do you expect me to call you in the city? Are you still called the Guardian Saint?

Black Dragon: That’s not possible.

MC: Lord Black Dragon? Lord?

He frowned and stared at me, not seeming to like my options. I racked my brain to think of more titles, and he sighed, seeming to have come to a decision.

Black Dragon: My surname is Li.

In order to avoid the officers and soldiers who might reappear at any time, we were cautious all the way before finally returning home along the right path. However, just as I opened the door, the voice I didn’t want to hear sounded from behind me.

??: Yo, isn’t this that little robber? I didn’t expect to run into people not yet caught by the government today.

The owner of Jianzhu Workshop actually had a group of people wait by my house! I hurriedly hid the peach wood sword behind my back, and stepped forward to block the Black Dragon.

MC: You stole my things, and are so embarrassed that you want the government to arrest me?

Boss: No one saw me steal your things, but many people saw you steal things from my store. What are you going to do?

Most of the people behind him responded and began to surround me. I’m suddenly nervous and at a loss. But, then I see the Black Dragon standing beside me with his arms lifted slightly.

Those who came close seemed to hit an invisible wall, bumping one by one and falling backwards. No matter how many times they tried, they didn’t make any ground.

Boss: T-This is magic! You are monsters!

The group of people looked on at us in horror and kept backing away. The boss ushered them away disdainfully and drew his sword.

Boss: You turned out to have a monster as a helper, but don’t think that this will scare me!

After speaking, he flew forward and leaped, with the sharp tip of his sword barreling straight towards my face. I subconsciously closed my eyes, but the coolness of metal breaking through air did not come as expected.

I hesitated for a moment before slowly opening my eyes, and saw that the boss’s figure was stagnated in the air, and the tip of his sword had stopped less than three inches from my face. In the next second, he also bounced far away like his men had before him, and the sword fell on the ground with a crisp clang.

Boss: What kind of monster is this… cough cough… it’s so powerful.

I secretly glanced at the Black Dragon next to me. He still stood there quietly, as if he hadn’t paid attention to the scene just now.

The boss reluctantly stood up with his sword and walked towards us, but stopped halfway obediently under the gaze of the Black Dragon.

Boss: I can’t beat you anyway, so let’s be honest with each other. I want that sword to conquer the Black Dragon. You should have heard that legend, right? The peach wood sword that has eliminated a demon -- as long as it’s stained with the blood of the Guardian Saint, he will surrender to me.

Boss: Now that the sword is in your hands, as long as you agree to cooperate with me, I can give you a share of the reward as compensation.

MC: It’s too vain to do that!

Boss: Mankind has been eliminating demons for many years, isn’t this point of return justified?

The surrounding temperature seemed to drop suddenly, and I held my sword tighter.

MC: Don’t even think about it. Xiao Li, don’t listen to his nonsense. Let’s tie him up and send him to the government!

I yelled this with a strong momentum, but the fingers hidden under my sleeve secretly hooked onto the Black Dragon’s hand and shook, hoping that he would not mind the disrespectful name. He glanced at me unhappily, but still moved his fingers, making the owner unable to escape.

Seeing some onlookers appeared nearby, I pulled the Black Dragon back, wanting to end this farce as soon as possible.

MC: Everyone is watching. If you still want to keep the Jianzhu Workshop in business, you should move on quickly and forget the ideas you shouldn’t have.

Boss: ….

MC: If you don’t speak, I’ll assume that you agree.

Black Dragon: He is speechless now.

I was stunned for a moment, looking at the flushing boss. But I looked at the Black Dragon and suddenly understood. So, I cleared my throat and deliberately amplified the sound.

MC: Now that you’ve realised your mistakes, go to the government and confess your guilt honestly. As long as you are willing to tell the truth this time, I will not care too much. I believe that the government will give us a fair verdict.

After testifying with the government, I locked the door of my house and lit a fire in the corner of the yard. Since the Black Dragon was trapped behind the barrier here, many legends that do not tell the truth have emerged, gradually ranging from spreading his divine power to how to conquer him.

Many seniors believed that the peach wood sword would be abused by people with ulterior motives, so they wanted to destroy the sword. But, it used to be a glory in the family and it was a relic of my father’s. I have always cherished it very much and am not willing to destroy it.

Until now, I have not really realised how disturbing its existence is.

The wooden sword was thrown into the flame, and the flame seemed to have received my worry, and quickly rose to swallow it. I waited until the flame went out and I doused the embers before returning to the house.

The Black Dragon was not there, and the window facing the black dragon was open. I hurried to the window and heard a little noise coming from the pond.

As soon as I slipped out, I saw the Black Dragon immersed in the pond water, seeming to be examining his own strength. The water around him seemed to diverge and gather, but only for a moment before it suddenly fell back into the pool, revealing his figure. He leaned casually on the bank, his slender fingers outstretched slightly.

The falling flowers on the water floated back onto the shore, embossed under the roots of the trees. The hanging water curtain not far away turned into layers of mist with his simple instruction, and fell onto the other branches with a crisp rustling noise.

For a while, I so surprised that I could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart in my chest.

This is… the strength that has always protected us.

In some kind of broad tenderness, this casual moment silenced the whole world.

He has a small wound on his body that is slowly bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to care. At this time, he had long faded away from his initial vigilance and suspicion, as if he had just found a comfortable place to nurse his fatigue.

Looking at this scene, I suddenly thought that if I had looked at his eyes more when we first met, I definitely wouldn’t have misunderstood his identity. Such a clear and quiet gaze could only belong to a truly powerful being.

Black Dragon: Don’t hide, come out.

MC: Sorry, I didn’t mean to peek on purpose… I thought you were gone.

Black Dragon: I am indeed ready to leave.

Hearing him say this, I felt a little reluctant.

Black Dragon: But I still have a question for you.

MC: What’s the problem?

Black Dragon: Why did you reject that person just now?

I was stunned for a moment, and then realised what he was referring to.

MC: ...The person stealing other people’s things is not credible, and I’m not interested in the conditions he offered. What’s more, is that the sword in my family has been used for generations to eliminate evil, and it cannot hurt a Guardian Saint who brings peace.

I couldn’t help but glance at his wound, and found a handkerchief in my pocket and handed it over.

MC: Why are you hurt?

He turned away slightly, his expression a little unnatural.

Black Dragon: The yard is too small and there are too many trees.

I looked at the small branches scattered around the pond and smirked internally. Naturally, this place can’t be compared with the vast forest. He obviously hasn’t adapted to the new area yet.

MC: Your blood seems to be very important, so wait for me to help you bandage it.

The Black Dragon looked at me, smiled lightly, and grabbed my wrist.

Black Dragon: The legend of the peach sword is false.

MC: What?

Black Dragon: Do you really want to hear more about it?

Looking into his smiling eyes, I almost lost my consciousness and nodded subconsciously. With a little force in his hand, he drew me closer, and the low voice sounded through my ears.

Black Dragon: The conditions that make me surrender never come from other things.

Black Dragon: You asked my name before. Do you know its true meaning?

Black Dragon: No way.

MC: I’m really fine!

Black Dragon: If I say no, it means no.

MC: But there is no other way. You’re a guest and a noble Guardian saint, I can't possibly let you sleep on the ground, right?

Black Dragon: …

Considering that the Guardian Saint was injured in my home, I warmly invited him to stay overnight, and he gave me the chance “to make up for the past”. I had taken the initiative to bandage the wound and make dinner for him, but after a smooth night, I suddenly hit a wall in sleeping.

I forgot that my cabin has limited space and only one bed. So, I was going to sleep on the floor, but he didn’t allow it. I had forgotten about the possibility of sleeping in the same bed, so, after thinking about it, I carried the quilt on the ground onto the bed.

Ignoring his surprised gaze, I first climbed into the innermost side of the bed, turned my back to him and patted the empty space behind me.

MC: If nothing else, I sleep very soundly!

I eavesdropped on the man behind me, and after a long silence, I finally heard the sound of the quilt being lifted once again.

The night was still deep, but we laid still for a long time. I still couldn’t sleep. Though, I still remember what he said to me by the pond--

Black Dragon: Names are a curse.

MC: Lord Guardian, are you asleep?

Black Dragon: ...Not yet.

MC: I have a question. Since the name is a kind of curse, many people usually call me, so why didn’t I feel it?

Black Dragon: Because you are all ordinary people.

MC: Is that right…

My curiosity flared up again.

MC: Lord Guardian, my name is ___. Since I am called ordinary, can I ask the unusual Guardian saint to recite it?

I waited for a long time, and the person behind me didn’t respond, as if he didn’t want to acknowledge my whim. I was beginning to grow restless, so I tightened the quilt corner and leaned against the bed.

Black Dragon: Li Zeyan.

MC: ...What?

Li Zeyan: My name. Go to bed now and you’ll still remember it.

MC: !

MC: Did you really just tell me that? Is it okay to?

Li Zeyan: ...If you dare not accept it, I can make you forget now.

MC: Wait, wait! I accept! But, if this isn’t a mantra, does it matter if i recite it?

Li Zeyan: You can give it a try.

MC: ..Li Zeyan

Li Zeyan: Good.

Li Zeyan responded reluctantly and put out the candle. I waited for a while, and it was quiet behind me, as if nothing happened. I’ve been so overwhelmed by the excitement of knowing his name that even in the dark, I'm not willing to close my eyes.

MC: Li Zeyan?

My answer was another stretch of silence.

I grabbed the quilt, and an uncontrollable impulse that could no longer be subdued was relieved through the curling of my lips. So, my brain began whirring and three words suddenly came out.

[she says three words because Victor’s chinese name, Li Zeyan, is characterised like this: 李泽言]

MC: Li Zeyan.

As soon as I was finished speaking, I felt that the bed next to me suddenly sank, my shoulder was caught, and I was pulled over. Before I could even utter an exclamation, I met Li Zeyan’s close face.

Li Zeyan: What are you trying to do?

It seems that every time I get close to him, I can’t think, I can only let the thoughts in my head slip to my lips.

MC: I just think your name sounds nice. I wanted to say again.

Li Zeyan seemed to be taken aback, and his hand holding me loosened.

Li Zeyan: Have you said it enough now? Shut up and sleep when you’ve had enough.

MC: But, I still want to hear you say my name. You know, everything must be exchanged in the human world, and I will sleep only when you say it.

Li Zeyan had probably never heard of such a request before and stopped talking, seeming to be judging if I was joking or not. Seeing that I still met his gaze firmly, he spoke word from word after all.

Li Zeyan: ___.

MC: !

I immediately covered my face, detached from his arm, and retreated to the other side of the bed.

MC: I-I promise to stop talking! I’ll sleep now!

Li Zeyan: ……

However, even when the room was quiet again, my noisy heartbeat did not calm down. Is this the so-called “curse”? This curse is really powerful. No no, it’s the “unusual” Guardian saint that is the most powerful.

I sigh quietly. It seems that I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

The next day, I woke up amidst a strange noise. I opened the window and looked out at the situation on the street. After recalling the day, I remembered that the Qixi festival has arrived.

I turned my head and looked at the other side of the bed: it was empty.

I quickly cleaned myself up and opened the door. I saw Li Zeyan leaning against the door and looking in the direction of the main street.

MC: Good morning.... Li Zeyan.

Li Zeyan glanced at me, and nodded stiffly to communicate a response.

Li Zeyan: Why is it so noisy outside?

I looked at the hint of curiosity in his eyes and suggested with a smile.

MC: If you’re interested, do you wanna go out with me?

The Qixi Festival has always been the most lively summer festival. Stalls have been set up early on the main street to sell all kinds of novel and interesting gadgets. I chose a booth at random and took him over to see it.

MC: Look, it’s a black dragon puppet!

The puppet was dressed in a colorful cloak, and the dragon’s horns and tail were swollen with cotton. I snuck a look at Li Zeyan, and he immediately frowned in disgust.

Li Zeyan: Too exaggerated. There’s no need to look like that.

MC: But it looks so cute!

Li Zeyan: ...Do you like it?

I was thinking about how to respond to the Guardian saint’s question, when the stall owner leaned over with a smile.

Stall Owner: The girl has a good eye! I bought this black dragon puppet from a temple of incense. Buying it back will surely protect both of you. For today’s holiday, if you each buy one, the price is discounted! Son, what do you think?

Li Zeyan: I don’t need it.

I took a peek at him, smiled and put down the puppet, then raised my arm and shook it indifferently.

MC: I don’t need it either.

I have been favoured by fate, so I can at least leave the puppets to others.

I don’t know if it’s my illusion, but Li Zeyan seemed to slow down and walk with me patiently. I guess he must have rarely had such a talkative moment during the long years he spent in the forest.

I secretly made up my mind to take him today to experience the “world fireworks”.

[it was never explicitly stated, but I’m guessing that this refers to the tradition of kongming lanterns mentioned soon.]

In the long main streets, through countless shops and stalls, we stop and try our best to spend this special day seriously. I imagined the Guardian saint who was aloof, but I was so entranced that I didn’t even dare blink my eyes, and together we studied the mysteries of the street performers

He still occasionally resents helplessness, but unexpectedly does not refuse assistance. Perhaps because of the smoke and fire, I almost forgot his original identity.

Time passed by, and the end of the main street was already in front of me. A small river transverses, and there are already many people piercing Kongming lanterns on both sides of the river

Li Zeyan: What’s the purpose of this?

MC: It’s a paper lantern to make wishes on. It rises into the sky after you light the inside of it. People write their wishes on the lamps, and the gods in sky will see it and may even help realise it.

Li Zeyan: How can there be such a thing?

MC: Today is the Qixi Festival, you can’t say such things! If it’s heard by the seventh sister in the sky, it will be bad.

Li Zeyan: ...what wishes do you generally make?

MC: On the Qixi Festival, everyone will wish for a good hand or a good marriage.

Li Zeyan: what about you?

MC: I…

I looked at a few pairs of lovers not too far away, and silently lowered my head. If you desire too much, than what’s the difference between me and those who want to imprison the Guardian saint?

But, perceiving Li Zeyan’s gaze on me, I cheered up and decided to answer the question in another way.

MC: Right, tonight, I want to see the stars, so I’ll take you to a good place to see them!

The pavilion at the foot of the mountain is part of a summer resort that I accidentally discovered when I was young. Now that the area is kept dense, the water is as clear as a mirror. The mountain breeze in the evening is very cool, blowing away all the heat of the day.

Li Zeyan leaned in the pavilion, looking at the distance with a relaxed expression.

MC: Is the Guardian Saint satisfied with this place?

Li Zeyan: well, it’s not bad.

MC: No one else will come here, so you can relax.

Li Zeyan seemed to have seen through the words as I was expecting, and showed a pair of beautiful dragon horns and a tail.

MC: I wanted to say it the first time I saw you, but, you’re really good looking.

Li Zeyan: In your imagination, was I ugly?

MC: Um… I was only expecting you to be more fierce.

Li Zeyan: And i did not expect that the one to open the barrier would be a reckless “bandit”.

I turned my head angrily, but I saw the smile at the corner of his mouth at a glance, and the feeling of dissatisfaction disappeared immediately.

I handed Li Zeyan a small purse I'd been holding in my arms.

MC: Just in case, I decided to prepare you something.

Li Zeyan took it and opened it, holding up a small peach wood sword pendant.

MC: Even though it’s small, it has the same effect as the original sword!

Li Zeyan: ...Didn’t you burn the sword?

MC: I secretly broke off a piece of the hilt of the sword, I think my father would not mind. But, if you ever encounter the barrier in the future, you can walk out by yourself.

Li Zeyan: “Self?” Where are you going?

MC: You definitely don’t want to stay in this world, do you? I couldn’t even go to heaven with you.

Li Zeyan: You don’t have to go so far. The freedom I want has nothing to do with where I am.

MC: But, you said yesterday that you were ready to leave… Are you going to another town?

Li Zeyan looked at the pendant and pondered a moment before speaking.

Li Zeyan: The forest is very large… but it’s not as good as a small yard.

Li Zeyan: No matter whether it is man or a god, there are no taboos, but it depends on whether that restriction is actively being accepted by itself. The spell of that name is a lock, and only those who know it can open it.

Li Zeyan: Just now, I've put the lock and key into your hands. So, I must keep you by my side.

I stared at him with a serious look, and it took a long time to find my voice.

MC: My home is so small... You will either get hurt or you will not sleep well...

MC: I can’t accompany you to heaven, but I can go with you anywhere else in the world. Because you know my name, I also want to keep you by my side.

He laughed at me, hooked his finger at me, and I leaned in faintly.

Li Zeyan: In this case, I’ll leave this on you.

With warm fingertips around my neck, he put the pendant on me. I stretched out my hand to caress the small pendant, and my heart was filled with wonder. I have no supernatural power, nor have I learned to kill demons and eliminate evil. Only this little peach wood sword and myself, who keeps the secret, will become his keys together.

I pulled out a comb from the side drawer and handed it to him.

MC: According to human rules, to make such an important agreement, you have to help me comb my hair.

Li Zeyan hesitated and took the comb suspiciously.

Li Zeyan: I have never brushed anyone’s hair before…

MC: You will live in this world in the future, so you can learn more.

Li Zeyan: Why are there so many rules?

MC: This is how humans are.

In order to reduce the difficulty, I took the initiative to lift up a strand of hair

MC: Comb this strand, and it will be done after three times.

Li Zeyan: Why?

I held back my smile and tried to find excuses for my careful thinking.

MC: Hmm… Because this way, the agreement will last longer.

A helpless sigh was heard from behind me, but he still continued. The movements were very slow and light, and he took care to not hurt me at all. Time seemed to stop in this moment, and at the same time, lovers of heaven and earth meet.

I leaned on his lap and peaked at the reflection in the water: he’s clearly smiling.

As the night darkened, a Kongming lantern suddenly floated in the distance. Orange lights gradually revealed themselves in the night sky, like stars symbolising wishes.

MC: What a nice view...

Li Zeyan retracted his eyes from the sky and looked at me.

Li Zeyan: I remember that you haven’t said your wish.

I stroked his hand holding the comb and combed the hair to the bottom with him.

“Three combs to the end, will tie two hearts together forever.”

The night breeze is cool, bringing the wishes of the world to the sky. And there is still a wish, turning into a quiet whisper before falling into someone’s ear. The person who receives this wish is my destination.

#mlqc #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor #spoilers #mr love queen’s choice victor #otome #it won’t let me edit this post on mobile and I can’t fix the cg placing on my laptop :-;

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Hmm, still thinking about character profiles… might try and do something with that after this arc, since I didn’t do it before the USJ arc. Or maybe I should wait until after the Sports Festival? I suppose I’ll have to wait and see if I have enough material…

Still, it does feel weird to try and do character profiles when there are other ones out there that are so much more detailed and really dig into things. I mean, it can’t necessarily hurt for me to do, but it’d also push back the chapters even further when I just want to get caught up, so… bleh.

Anyways, chapter.

[No. 16 - Know Your Enemies]

First off, Mineta, why. Just. Sigh.

Our first panel has izuku and Tsuyu wading towards the edge of the water, Izuku cradling his broken finger while Tsuyu drags Mineta along. Long and short, Mineta says the villains will be stuck together all day. Izuku is muttering about how lucky they were, because that move was a real gamble, and if the villains had been smart, a few of them would have been hidden under the water. He can guess they weren’t thinking ahead, but they still need to be careful…

Tsuyu tells him to stop, since what he’s muttering about is scary. She then asks him what they should do now. Izuku determines that their top priority is calling for help, and that if possible, they should follow the shoreline and make for the exit, avoiding the plaza altogether. (Meanwhile, Tsuyu asks if Izuku’s okay, which he confirms even while wincing over his injury.) Izuku’s narration recounts that their first battle ended in a win, but that he’d made a deadly wrong assumption.

Huh. Izuku is using his elbow pad as a temporary compress for his broken finger. Interesting.

Tsuyu accepts Izuku’s plan, and then notes that Aizawa is drawing a large number of villains to the plaza. Izuku is worried about their teacher, noting that there’s too many enemies. Of course, Eraserhead is holding his own out there, but it’s too much for him, and that he had to know that, but jumped in to protect the class anyways.

Mineta think Izuku is planning something stupid (which I mean, rude but fair) while Tsuyu gives a neutral ribbit. Izuku clarifies that he isn’t saying they should dive right into the fight - just that they watch for an opening and do what they can to lighten their teacher’s load. The narration from above finishes with an ominous statement - thinking that they stood a chance against those enemies was a grave miscalculation.

Then we get an overview of the USJ and where everyone was sent, serving as the ‘cover page’ for the chapter.

Interestingly, neither Aoyama or Hagakure have a confirmed location, though I am aware that Hagakure later states she was in the same zone as Shouto. And Shouji… oh, poor Shouji…

Can’t believe my good hugs boy was slandered like this… damn you Viz…

Not to mention the disrespect to our goddess Yaomomo… when will it end...

Next up, we get to see Shouto being casually intimidating. He exhales a chilled breath as his shoulder starts to steam, musing about the villains’ divide and conquer strategy. He then notes with a half-hearted preemptive apology that it’s hard to see the villains who were in the landslide zone as any more than thugs with quirks they can’t even handle.

Jesus christ where does his ice end.

Shouto approaches the closest villain - perhaps the leader of that squad - his boots crunching in the ice as his left side continues to steam. The squad leader(?) calls him a bastard and complains how he reacted the second he was warped there, as well as wonders if he’s really just a kid before complaining about the pain from the frostbite of the ice.

Shouto briefly flashes back to Shigaraki mentioning how they brought along so many playmates (which I guess confirms that Jirou and/or Shouji forwarded some of what the villains were saying down in the plaza because otherwise there’s no way they should have heard from that distance.) He thinks about how the villains want to kill All Might, and and first, they’d all seemed elite, so they could use their numbers to overwhelm him. But taking a closer look, the pawns are only there for the kids, nothing but a gang of low-level cannon fodder. As far as he can tell, there are only about four or five really dangerous individuals there.

He then sits down(!!!) as he gets the villains’ attention, noting that at the rate they’re going, their skin will rot away from frostbite. The villains are alarm, but Shouto continues on, explaining that he’s trying to become a hero, and that heroes don’t do such horrible things. As he thinks about what he needs to do next, he asks the villains what makes them think they can kill All Might, and to tell him their plan.

Shouto, my man, that is a power move and a half right there, I cannot believe he actually sits down and makes them talk to him like an unruly class of students or sommat. Just, fucking hell, I don’t even know if he realizes how effectively he just asserted his dominance.

Our next scene shift (and the last for this post) is over to Yaomomo, Jirou, and Kaminari in the mountain zone, surrounded by enemies.

Pick your fighter. I’m Birb Dude.

A lot of those enemies have weapons of zome kind and are overall fairly intimidating, though there’s also this one fucker-

I’m sorry I just cannot take this one seriously, what the FUCK is that. There’s certainly some other questionable villains in this mess, but that one just. What.

Anyways. Kaminari just dodges a heavy punch from the big villain with the weird helmet on. He yelps as he gets closer to the girls and gets into formation (back to back to back), complaining about his whole life flashing before his eyes and asking who the hell those guys are and what they’re doing there. Jirou tells him to worry about that later, with Yaomomo stating they need to figure out how to get away from that mob.

Jirou asks Kaminari to confirm he’s a ‘lightning guy’, and then tells him to just fry them all to a crisp. While she’s holding a presumably metal sword. Yeah no, I can’t see anything wrong with that plan. Kaminari is offended because why wasn’t she paying attention when were partners during the battle training?

He then goes on to explain that he can only cover himself in electricity (so he wants a weapon), then goes on to say that he can discharge it, but he can’t control it - he’d hit them as well! Kind of like Todoroki’s power. He also states that he’s still trying to call for help, but his special transceiver is being jammed. He then finishes with the statement that they can’t rely on him, so he’s relying on them, giving a thumbs up with a bit of zap coming off of it.

Jirou grumbles about how he blabs a lot for a guy, then turns and kicks him into the crowd of villains, telling him to be a human stun gun. Kaminari yelps in disbelief at the betrayal, smacking right into the huge villain who almost punched him before and giving the guy a real good zap. Jirou is unimpressed as Kaminari realizes that the adhoc plan actually worked, and that the two can in fact rely on him after all. Jirou notes that that was easy.

Two other villains move to go after Kaminari, who is STILL somehow zapping the guy (how is that villain not dead yet??), with the rock fisted guy aiming a massive bouldery fist at a scared Kaminari. However, right before it hits, it gets cracked open by some kind of soundsave, leaving the villain’s unprotected fist to land right in Kaminari’s face and get them brutally zapped as well.

The boar-masked villain with knives tries to leap in, but a net shot from seemingly nowhere catches him mid-air and sends him falling to the ground caught up in it. We see right after that it was shot from Yaomomo’s right forearm / elbow, all while she’s blocking another strike from a different villain with her staff. She tells Jirou and Kaminari to get serious, with Jirou apologizing as she lifts her short sword again.

Jirou unplugs her ear jack from the speaker in her right boot, the jack retracting to normal length as she notes that she had a good plan, but Kaminari… (something? IDK. I guess he’s in the way? Or she wasn’t expecting his quirk limitations?)

We get her full name - Jirou Kyoka - and a description of her quirk, Earphone Jack.

We also get to see her use her quirk without the speakers, directing one of those amplified heartbeats as a direct attack at some of the villains, who hold their hears as they shout from the pain. Jirou blocks another up-close sword attack with her own short sword, nothing that in her costume request, she asked for a way to focus her sound in one direction.

A question about her costume, like. Why are the speakers in her boots? I mean, I know her costume needed speakers to direct her quirk, but why not go for something like Present Mic’s costume where she could have the speakers on her shoulders and so a lot closer to her quirk???

Yeah, I need to try and keep remembering that these are first draft costumes made by fifteen year olds and not meant to be used in the field / against villains yet. Sometimes I am a dumb. Thank you discord for knocking my head straight.

Moving on, we get Yaomomo kicking another villain back as she states that ‘it’s ready’, which confuses Jirou and I guess the villains as well. The villain she kicked stumbles back as Yaomomo crouches over, her back starting to bulge as she notes that it took some time, what with it being a larger object. The back of her costume tears open in a fairly gruesome-seeming image, only for the next panel to reveal it’s some kind of huge sheet that shoot out over her and Jirou’s heads before coming down to completely cover them both.

The villains are confused about the sheet, asking if the kids are trying to shield themselves. Meanwhile, Kaminari seems done shocking the other villains, stumbling as others start to run at him with their weapons or hands poised to strike. Momo clarifies that the sheet is a 100 mm thick insulation sheet, then tells Kaminari ‘now.’ Kaminari, nose bloody, realizes her plan and let her know that. He lifts his arms, telling the villains that he’s actually super strong before bringing them down and fully unleashing his quirk, zapping all of them at once.

Pikachu, use Thunder!

As the quirk wears off, we see all the villains are in no condition to keep fighting. Smoke rises from the insulated sheet as Yaomomo lifts the edge, noting that now that that is handled, she’s worried about the others, so they need to hurry up and regroup. Jirou is flustered as she points out Yaomomo’s wardrobe malfunction (which I will not be sharing here), while Yaomomo calmly replies she can make more clothes. We also get a blurb on Yaomomo’s quirk:

As well as probably one of the most important things that Bones cut out for some stupid reason: belly rolls!

Yes, Yaomomo actually has a healthy weight in the manga. I mean, all the girls do, but still. Why do animes just ruin this stuff.

Anyways, our last two panels of the page and this half of the chapter show Kaminari totally brain dead as he cheers, with another blurb about his quirk:

Behind all three of them, we see a fist smashing up out of the ground, showing that someone managed to dodge that super-attack after all…

Anyways, that’s a wrap for now. Next time is all Aizawa and Shigaraki, and that’s gonna be… messy. See y’all then!

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octalove · 4 years

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VI: The Dotted Line

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Jason extends an offer. Part one, two, three, four, and five.

Note: someone said Batgirl and Jason mission, and i am but a humble servant of the people. also, i almost named this chapter “Carolyn Crawford”. Hope you like❤️

TW: Decription of sex work (barely), very light gore

Being back at Batman’s side was a peculiar thing these days. Soothing and suffocating all at once; like returning home after a long, liberating trip. It felt easy, and safe. I was reminded of the first time he brought me up to a towering building top. I clung to Nightwing like a life preserver.

Once I found my footing, the building tops were the only place I felt safe. The taller the skyscraper, the higher and farther from the grim city that raised me. I wondered what would happen when I outgrew the skyscrapers, too.

November was settling like an icy blanket over Gotham. My breath wreathed around me as my chest heaved from scaling the office building I was settled on, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gray dawn as 2am turned to 3am. I could see Robin’s breath too, as he crouched like a gargoyle on the balls of his feet. Even when I pushed his arm lightly, he glared, but didn’t move. The kid had incredible balance.

“I was beginning to enjoy your absence.” He muttered.

I smiled at him. “Are you kidding? Patrol is boring without me.”

“Patrol is boring without brainless plebeians to subdue. I can make due without you.”

“So you’re saying you don’t consider me a brainless plebeian?” I replied.

His lip twitched. He liked this game. It was the birthplace of many of his preferred insults.

“Closer to a bumbling fawn.”

“I like that one.”

Damian’s disinterest in all things regarding my thoughts and feelings was a good distraction. I’d been using him for the past week since my latest brush with Red Hood. Well, Jason. It was still hard to wrap my mind around.

I knew him. He knew me. I shouldn’t have been worried; he knew nothing about me. Nothing other than who I was, anyway. I wanted to ignore whatever residual feeling was left from fighting him on the docks, and I really wanted to say I hadn’t thought about the last thing he said to me. But in truth, I’d thought of little else. The large gaps of time between our meetings left time for that.

We were looking for him tonight. More specifically, Batman and Nightwing were. Robin and I were sent to the quiet apartment rows of Crest Hill, watching over nothing in particular. Sent to keep us away from the fray. Even Robin knew it. When Batman said we’d be patrolling here, he looked like he could rip the head off a puppy.

“Movement in Coventry.”

“On it. Thanks, Oracle.”

One of the better quirks of Damian Wayne was that in the case he was spurned by his favored allies (Bruce, Dick), he quickly formed new alliances (me, Tim). Bumbling fawn comment aside, I could tell I was in his good graces tonight by utter happenstance and Batman’s shortcomings. I was nothing if not opportunistic.

“We can get to Coventry before they can.” I said quickly, keeping the nervous excitement in my voice to a minimum. He eyed me cautiously.

“Batman may be trying not to take risks, but we can handle a couple of goons. Besides,” I added. “Red Hood will probably be gone by then. He always is.” I was overselling it; Robin was already standing, eyes roving over the city scape in search of the best route to Coventry. I stood with him, then let the free-fall adrenaline send exciting jolts through my stomach as we grappled toward our destination.

I could see him, in my mind. His face on the docks, bathed with the flame of his lighter. Hear his voice, full of purpose and noble fury as he promised revenge. I understood his cause, but didn’t understand him, and that was the mystery that poisoned my mind and stole my ability to sleep. Not Red Hood. Jason Todd.

Robin and I perched over a factory compound on the water’s edge, Sprang River’s lower fork rushing by at the end of the factory court. A handful of men moved like ants in the flooding white lights that lit the exterior. The wind distorted the sounds of their voices. Robin must have had the same thought because he moved soundlessly to a lower roof panel, advancing on the building. I followed. One man began shouting.

“I’m going to the Northern pylon.” Robin whispered. Divide and conquer. I wasn’t going to argue. I kept my eyes on his silhouetted form to ensure he didn’t encounter any resistance on his way, then worked by way around the court, hoping I could get a good idea of the place before he reached his vantage point. The sky was lightening, and we were losing time.

Just as I was about to check the lot on the opposite side of the factory, a metal door swung open, scraping against the metal parapet. Red Hood walked out, accompanied by a man in a factory jumpsuit. I couldn’t make out their conversation.

I crept along the high factory railing as they meandered across the court, deep in conversation. I kept it up for around six minutes before his companion departed, heading for the lot.

“Robin,” I whispered into my comms. “There’s a man heading toward the parking lot. Trail him.”

“I see him.”

With Robin in the Southern parking lot a safe distance away, I watched Red Hood slowly pull away from the lights and people, heading toward the darker exhaust plants East of the court. It became a struggle to keep and eye on him and my footing at the same time, but I did it. He stopped at a motorcycle parked behind an electric turbine about a klick from the factory. The sky was a pale gray now, ever-lightening with the dawn, and the shadows were burning away with it. I lowered by self behind an electrical box attached to one of the turbines.

“We’re en route- wait, Robin-“ The comms rang in my ear.

“I gave you a direct order.” Batman growled.

“It was a stupid order.” Robin clipped.

“Where’s Batgirl?”

Red was about to replace his red helm with a motorcycle helmet, but paused. He seemed to stall for a moment, before calling out.

“Come here, little bird.”

I was more annoyed than anything. I was ready to be a step ahead of him for once. But then, I couldn’t resent him for giving me what I wanted. I stood, and took in his empty hands before approaching. He’d leaned against the metal turbine, arms crossed as he regarded me with an unreadable expression.

“They’re here, you know.” I warned.

“Call ‘em, then. I won’t move. I know I’m good, but I’d be outnumbered. Bad odds.”

I scowled. “I’m not gonna do that.” I said it because he already knew it. We both did. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“You thought about what I said.”

“Of course I did.”

He glanced around, then pulled himself up straight and moved toward me. I took a few steps back, prompting him to flash me his empty hands, raised in surrender.

“Relax, darlin’.” He said. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be. I want you to understand.”

“How? How do I understand?” I’d been trying for a month. He pulled a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket, holding it out and letting me take it, keeping a safe, considerate distance. Inside, was a number.

“Come with me. One job. Nice and easy.” He said.

“I’m not killing anyone.” I said sternly, voice dropping.

“I’m not askin’ you to.”

“And I’m not standing by and letting you kill anyone.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Fine. We’ll do it clean.” I didn’t even know if I believed him. But I was tired of trying to understand him from a safe, considerate distance.

“We’re almost at location. Four minutes.” Nightwing’s voice almost made me jump. I lifted my eyes.

“You need to go.”

He was already turning on his heel.

It was two days before I texted him. I got a glorious three hours of sleep over the course of them, and I kept running down either respective fork in my road before turning around and running back. In the end, I subsided to the fact that I was raised by two business-women, and Jason’s offer was at worst an opportunity. If it all went to shit, and he tried to kill me, I’d at least have some information to present to Bruce, notwithstanding the lifetime of punishment that would get me.

Our rendezvous point was in Lower Gotham Proper. By the time I got there, it was midnight, and a rolling mist had blown in from the harbor, mixing with the smog that hugged the streets and making it nearly unsafe to drive. I silently hoped Batman and Robin were okay.

As I worked my way down a narrow street, the moisture in the air was choking; causing the fabric of my pants and jacket to cling to my skin. I’d almost prefer rain to the way the mist stood still, forcing me to muddle through it. It was dark. The lights and signs on surrounding buildings didn’t seem to be able to preserve through the fog.

I saw a figure pressed against a building that looked tall enough to be Jason. As I approached, we regarded each other’s forms apprehensively. When he tilted his head, I knew it was him. I drew close.

“Jesus.” I mumbled. “Could you have picked a spookier place?”

“Don’t tell me you scare easy.” He said through a cigarette. His helmet was in his hand, but it could’ve easily been mistaken for a motorcycle helmet. The whole get-up was kind of biker-esque. I didn’t answer. Just glanced around.

“Come on.” He said. “It’s not far.”

As we began walking, it struck me how much more relieved I felt to hear his footsteps alongside my own. I was capable; willing and able to fight just about anyone Gotham could conjure up. But still, walking with him was comforting. Like I had someone to watch my back.

We even eased into a bit of conversation. Small things- things we agreed upon. Rich society, and Gotham’s war on the poor. Politicians we wouldn’t mind going missing. If you had showed me his picture next his crime scenes, I wouldn’t have pinned him.

Jason wasn’t unpleasant; it was just that his disposition was highly aloof and somewhat irritable. He had rich bronze skin, and full lips that I was sure made for a charming smile when he decided to do so (not a grin, a smile). The composition of his face was very sharp and neatly symmetrical, but still held some gaunt exhaustion, revealed by the constant tense of his jaw. His attentive dark eyes were almost always narrowed in some fashion of distaste. He never once looked at peace.

It seemed to me that he was disinterested in most anything having to do with my life, other than that he wanted me with him. His entire being was an oxymoron; a juxtaposition of unexpectedly soft and startlingly sharp and there wasn’t a way to tell which it would be.

Finally, we approached a small, industrial building with a neon sign of red, blue, and green.

The Lion’s Den

Burlesque and Drag

I raised my eyebrows. A bit on the nose if you asked me. If the name didn’t give it away, the posters and marquees adorning the brick exterior did.

“We need to talk to someone here before we go.” Jason said, pulling on his helmet, and unzipping his brown leather jacket to showcase the bat.

“Lead on.” I said, pulling up my own mask.

The music was so loud, I could barely hear myself think. The led lights lining the ceiling were cycling warm colors; red, pink, orange, yellow, the glow burning through the smokescreen that was nearly as thick as the mist outside.

Women were dancing, in lace or topless, spinning on poles and otherwise moving gracefully to the heartbeat of the place. But that wasn’t the main event- a stage lit with marquee lights, the centerpiece of which was a table, where three women sat. Their outfits were something out of Marie Antoinette’s personal wardrobe. And that’s where Red Hood was headed.

We walked up onto the stage, and while it all sort of mingled with the dim neon in the rest of the building, I still felt oddly seen. I placed myself behind Red Hood, inserted between him and one of the women. They appeared to be playing cards.

“Well, well.” Said one of the queens, with blonde hair curled and blown out like something out of the 70’s. Her exaggerated, colorful makeup was a work of art- Picasso, perhaps. “Gonna stick around for the show this time, sugar?”

Red sat down, leaning so that his arm rested along the back of the chair, lights glinting off his helm. His relaxed composure made me nervous- but perhaps it was the lack of information.

“Not this time, Trixy.” He answered.

“Pity,” Said the broad redhead beside me, her voice a low, soothing timber. “You neva’ do.”

“Don’t be rude, Sasha.” The third woman scolded, throwing down an Ace of Spades, to the visible dismay of the others. “He’s a busy man.”

“Who’s your friend?” Trixy asked.

I glanced at Red Hood before answering. “Just a little bird.”

“How delightful. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?” Trixy said. “Did Dominique get the message to ya?”

“Refresh my memory.” Red Hood said- for my sake, I’m sure.

“Bout a week ago, a bunch of girls from the Row went missin’. Ain’t unusual,” Trixy said darkly, “Most don’t got no family or nothin’. Just us lookin’ out for ‘em. When we run outta beds here, that’s when they go missin’. But it’s different this time. Buncha girls all at once- including one ‘a the queens.”

“Tiffany Spice.” Sasha said, a solemn look on her face. “She was just comin’ into herself. Lord, I’d be devastated if somethin’ happened.”

“Some a’ the row girls been talkin’ about this real shifty fella- Baron Haus. New guy. Used to pimp out girls from the Narrows.”

“And the girls disappeared when he showed up.” I said quietly.

“Bingo.”

“How many?” Red asked.

“About eight, Tiffany included.”

“And you know where he was working from?” I inquired.

“Sha’ do. China Town. Club there called the Moonlight.”

Red Hood nodded. “Anything else me and my little bird should know?”

Trixy thought for a moment. “Baron’s got some friends in GCPD. Had some uncles in the force, or somethin’ of that nature. He’ll be missed. More dead.” She spit the term bitterly.

“They always are.” He responded, getting up from his chair.

“And Hoodie, sugar!” She called after us. “You’re a doll for this.” He didn’t reply. As we worked our way back toward the front, he spoke quietly.

“I thought it’d be better if you met ‘em yourself. Always makes it more personal.”

Batman never did that.

“Do you always make it personal?” I asked.

“It’s not fun if it isn’t.”

The freezing moisture in the air bit fiercely as we pushed open the metal screen door.

“Right.” I said. “So, the Moonlight. How are we getting there?”

“How do you think?” He said, stopping short of a rusted yellow fire escape on the side of the building. He surveyed it, then looked at me.

“Race ya.”

With surprising speed and grace, he scaled the fire escape, no sound in his wake.

“Oh, it’s on.” I fired, rushing to the bars and climbing like they were monkey bars. He disappeared over the edge of the roof, and as I made my way up, I saw him several years away, already conquering another building. I raced toward him, leaping over exhaust pipes until we were high above the fog. The city below looked like an illuminated ocean, twinkling lights just below a pillowy white surface.

I felt like a child again, overwhelmed, nearly brought to giddiness with excitement. Was this how Bruce felt, scaling rooftops with Catwoman? The small, but sure thrill of consorting with the bad guy- knowing that they were consorting with you in return?

I wasn’t a sidekick. There was no line to fall into. No predecessors, no successors, no beginning and no end. I moved like Batgirl across the shingles and concrete and metal scaffolding, but I was weightless without the Bat legacy on my chest. There was something deeply, shamefully freeing about that.

We were greeted differently in the Moonlight; a stark contrast to the warm welcome by the queens in the Lion’s Den. It was set up more like a smoky, refined gentlemen’s club. We drew attention from every walk of life inhabiting the bar- men in suits, women in silk, and slimy looking characters that grated offensively against the debonair theme.

Most leered for a moment, then cast their eyes away, like they’d seen something they shouldn’t have. Maybe you could consider Red Hood one of those such things.

“Mr. Hood!” There came a voice, cutting above the orchestral music- Nessun Dorma, if my musical sensibilities were still honed from my piano lesson days. “Welcome, welcome. I can only hope,” The man gave gritting smile, wound tight with visible anxiety. “That you’re here on peaceful business tonight.” He cast his nervous, monolid eyes to me. He was handsome, no older than thirty and wore a tight black vest. I didn’t let my body language give anything away; frankly, I was as in the dark as he was.

“Oh, you know me, Baron Jun,” Red Hood drawled, slowing to a halt at the bar, and leaning on it. “I don’t decide whether things stay peaceful or not. That depends on you.” I stayed standing, near his back, studying the security. Two lumbering men at the entrance, one behind Baron Jun. I wouldn’t put it past curvaceous bartender in red to have a gun, too.

“Lookin’ for Baron Haus. I heard a little rumor he works outta this quaint establishment now.”

When I’d considered the Red Hood’s contacts before, I pictured something like Batman’s relationship with Commissioner Gordon- figuring he had to have some corrupt cops or lowlife sleuths packing him with all his vast information. I never would have guessed it would be three drag queens playing cards.

A conflict passed over Baron Jun’s face, seconds long. “You… heard correctly. Word does seem to travel fast.”

“I need to pay him a visit. Remind him about some of my rules.” He admonished. It was a dripping warning, like the salivating jaws of an animal, teeth bared and pointed.

Baron Jun swallowed. “I see. Well, he um- he’s not actually here, at the moment. Maybe I can tell him you dropped b-“

“You know, Jun,” Red continued, ignoring him. “I got this really funny feeling you know what rules I’m talkin’ about.”

The look on his face was something to behold. I’d seen fear, briefly, on the faces of criminals before I subdued them and went on my way. But this was different. Fear induced by nothing but a conversation. Call it hive-mind, a power trip perhaps, but I felt this pesky sense of camaraderie that prompted me to take a few steps forward, shoulder to shoulder with Red Hood. Who was this vile little shitstain who made his living off men getting laid to play games with us? I thought about eight women, scared and abused. It was Baron Jun’s fault. Baron Haus’ fault. Everyone in this stupid bar, decorated to the taste of the men who abused them.

Baron Jun’s eyes dashed back and forth. Deny or ask forgiveness? I could see him running down those cross roads.

“He… he’s been running some shit I didn’t know about until last night. I swear I didn’t fuckin’ know.” He broke at last.

“Where are they?” I piped up.

“Who the fuck are-“ He was cut off with a bang and a scream as Red shot his knee. I was startled by the noise, but no one seemed to notice. It rang in my ear.

Give a girl a warning next time.

“Be. Fucking. Polite.” Red snapped, now advancing on the Baron. Only one of the three security guards decided it was worth the risk and stepped forward. Electric with the building energy of the whole night, I bolted forward and swung my fist into his throat. He made a choked noise and stumbled to the ground.

“Answer the question, Jun.” Red continued, this time in a taunting, sing-song tone.

“Oh, fuck,” Jun whimpered, cradling his knee. “Jesus- you- you shot me.”

“Always were a sharp one. I got a couple more bullets, and you’ve got another knee. So why don’t you sing before I get really impatient.”

“Christ.. they- they’re in the back. R-room fourteen.” His breath was labored with pain. I didn’t feel bad. Trusting that Red would handle the front and keep his promise of not killing anyone, I went to the back hallway, counting the doorways before reaching room 14. I made short work of the lock.

Some scuffling noises could be heard from the front room- but no further gunfire. I opened the door to reveal a velvet lounge, with red settees and satin curtains, along with fearful eyes looking back at me. I counted eight heads, including Tiffany Spice, who’d since abandoned his wig and gaudy attire. His make-up was streaked with long-dried tears.

“Tiffany Spice?” I asked, subservient to standard protocol despite my evening of rebellion.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Trixy sent us. You’re safe now.”

“Are the Barons gone?”

“They’re being dealt with.” I answered.

After finding them, the rest fell into place quickly. Red had indulged in some property destruction, and Baron Jun now reckoned with what appeared to be a shattered hand and some extra facial bruising.

I nodded briskly to Red and he, in turn, nodded to the bartender, who ushered the girls around.

Before departure, he knelt down in front of the Baron.

“You’re alive,” He said lowly. “Cause I’m doin’ someone a favor. If someone breaks the rules again,” He reached over and patted Jun’s pained face. “You be a good boy and come right to me. Okay?” Jun didn’t respond, nor take his bloodshot eyes off of his mangled hand, but Red straightened anyway and ushered me to the door.

Outside, we withdrew safely and quietly to a rooftop.

“Why did we leave them?” I asked.

“Trixy’s not my only contact. The bartender’s mine. She’ll get ‘em where they need to be.”

A beat.

“You knew Baron Haus wasn’t gonna be there.” I said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the only reason you promised me you wouldn’t kill anyone.”

Hesitation. “Yeah, it is.”

“Are you gonna track him down?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “Seriously.” I tried again. He sighed, then looked at me. I was seeing his eyes clearly for maybe the first time all night. It was sobering, and he held my gaze.

“Yes. Yes, I’m going to kill him.” He said firmly. I looked away.

“He’s got a track record.” He explained. “Does shit like this, gets caught, and then uses his friends in blue to get a lighter sentence. Three months, maybe. Then, he’s back. I’m not the first one to catch him. But I promise you, I’ll be the fuckin’ last.” His vitriol was oil on concrete, and I decided it was better not to light any matches. The rest of the walk was quiet, neither of us making the catalytic initiative to part ways, coming down from the adrenaline the way we’d built it; in each other’s uncertain company.

We settled on top of St. Luke’s Hospital, towering defiantly amidst the smaller, crowded inner city neighborhoods below. It was 4am, but I wasn’t tired. Quite the opposite; I was awash with energy, by grace of the night’s feat and the biting cold. Jason had pulled his helmet off, and was leaning against the steel exhaust pipe, myself nestled at his side.

“I have another place I need to go. Three days- Mafia business in Little Italy.” He said.

“And you want me to come?” I asked. He tipped his head.

“What can I say, doll? You’re good at this.”

I looked over the city, brow furrowing.

“Unless,” He added in a low voice, wry and challenging. “You think it’s wrong. I am the bad guy, aren’t I?”

I didn’t look at him, because I knew he was wearing a darkly arrogant expression, and I didn’t want to see it. No, there was nothing wrong about what we did tonight. Even if there was; I’d do it all again for the relief on Tiffany’s tear-streaked face.

“I’ll go.” I said. “But you have to tell me something. Honestly.” I said firmly, bringing my eyes to meet his. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Why don’t you hate me like you hate them?” Them. My family. Our family. Hate seemed a harsh word, but only after I supplied it, was I reminded of its truth. Jason studied me for a few agonizing moments, allowing only the sound of wind and distant, crying sirens.

“Carolyn Crawford.” He finally said.

“What?”

Carolyn Crawford.

I’d forgotten all about her. My life was sort of divided by this giant, barbed wire fence between before adoption and after adoption. Evidently, my brain decided that anything before adoption would be better of folded up, sealed with wax, and filed away. Traumatic memory suppression, the shrink Bruce sent me to called it- even though the only traumatic thing was the night my parents died, not everything that came before.

Nonetheless, Carolyn Crawford was somebody I hadn’t given any particular thought to in a long time. She was a woman of forty (at the time I was thirteen), and she had that snooty, Diamond District disposition that you only find in women who marry into wealth, but aren’t born with it. She was beautiful; pale skin, thin, with an air of 1950’s suave, accentuated by the auburn bob of artificial curls she always wore. Her husband was an investor in Wayne Enterprises, and she was sleeping with Bruce.

I had no reason to know, or care about this. But Jason did. When he found out, he was uncharacteristically devastated. I could imagine, in retrospect, that when you’re a boy of fifteen and you find out the man who adopted you- a man who was a holyfigure in your eyes, the good guy- was sleeping with a married woman ten years his senior, you may experience a bit of devastation. He had something, some virtuous perception of Bruce, ripped away from him, and he was given a concept that his father, too, had vices. His one vice; women.

Jason was angry. He wanted the world’s perception of Bruce to crumble alongside his own, and so he took all the valor in his teenage body and enacted his own justice.

An anonymous email was sent to just about every company partner or investor, including Carolyn’s husband, and my parents, disclosing a picture of Bruce in some secluded room at a gala, with his arm around Carolyn’s waist, leaning intimately into her ear. She had a wry smile on her face. Above the photo was a single tag line.

“Carolyn Crawford is fucking Bruce Wayne.”

My parents gossiped about the email, of course, when they thought I wasn’t leaning against the office door. But that was all I ever knew about it. Apparently Carolyn’s husband didn’t divorce her, but he did cut her off financially, which may as well have been the same loss.

That was all I heard of it, up until a charity event on a particularly cold January night. The January before Jason’s death. I was waltzing around as per usual, a cup of punch in my hand. Waiting for the clock to tick its way to eleven o’clock- when I knew my mothers would want to depart so they could get up for work the next morning. The music was lovely; fluttering strings.

“You!” It was a harsh sound, like a shrieking banshee, or the whining note of a violin when all the bow hairs are frayed.

Carolyn Crawford was marching right toward Jason, fury on her beautiful face. I didn’t catch the beginning of the conversation as I tried to make my way through the bodies, of which a few were also alarmed by the sound.

“...you’re the only one who could’ve done it, you little- don’t lie to me!”

Jason was defiant there, with his arms crossed and his lip slightly raised, but I could tell by the nervous look in his eye that she was pointing her bony finger at the right suspect. I’m certain it was Bruce who figured it out.

“What the hell are you talking about, lady?” He said.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know you sent that email. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“You’re outta your mind.”

“You’re going to regret this, I promise. I’m going to make sure that this follows you-“

“He didn’t send the email!” I said, pushing past a man who was eagerly watching, like it was the best thing he’d seen all night. I’m not even sure what possessed me to offer up the statement- maybe the way she was throwing her venom in his face and jabbing her finger at his chest.

“I did it.” I said. I didn’t look at Jason, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his mouth fall open. Carolyn Crawford turned on me.

“What?”

“I sent the email.” I said. We’d drawn more observers now, a small, hushed crowd of people too polite to intervene, but too curious to look away.

“Who the hell are you? And why would you do that?” Up close, I could see that she looked like she hadn’t slept. Other little things too; a pearl out place, stray hairs. She’d probably been through hell since Jason sent that email.

I leveled my gaze on her. “You really need to ask? What kind of wife-“

Slap.

Her open palm swung across my cheek so hard that I nearly stumbled into a donation table. There was a pressure in my ear, and then a stinging sensation. I put my hand to my cheek, and when I looked back up at her, she was eyeing the shocked crowd. Then, she turned, and walked briskly toward the exit, heels clicking on the marble.

Everyone stood there, looking at me. I flushed, shrinking under the weight of their eyes, feeling like an animal in a zoo. My mothers were nowhere to be found, and neither was Bruce.

In a swift movement, Jason grabbed my hand, shooting angry glares like daggers toward anyone who was looking, and ushered me into a secluded corner.

“Why did you do that? What the hell is wrong with you?” He whispered frantically, obviously battling whether he should touch my face or not. He decided not.

I gave him an insulted look. “I was helping you, jackass!”

“Well, you didn’t help!” He said, before adding, more exasperatedly. “You just got hurt.”

I shrugged, taking my hand off my cheek, probably to show him some modicum of strength, or defiance. “It’s not that bad.”

It was that bad. It was the first time I had ever been hit, by anybody. I actually wanted to cry. But I was dedicated to my tough girl role, so I didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” He said, surprising me with the fearful apologeticism in his voice. “I’m really sorry- you shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve said something. I just fuckin’ stood there like-“

“Hey! It’s okay. I did it because I wanted to. Besides, it really doesn’t matter who did what. She’s just mad she ruined her own marriage.”

He shook his head and slunk down beside me on the cold marble. The AC was offensively imposing for the middle of January, and I hugged my knees to my chest as we watched the guests disperse, dragging back the events of the night to gossip about later, like foxes carry prized rabbits.

“Carolyn Crawford?” I repeated. “That’s what this is about?”

Jason gave me a wiry look, a lopsided smile, then threw his head back and laughed, contagiously so. I let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“I mean,” He added, “Not all of it. A little.” There was residual laughter in his tone, and it made me want to lean into him.

“A ‘little’. Okay. Should I be getting in touch with Carolyn Crawford and thanking her for rekindling this little partnership?”

“Yeah.” He said. “Send her an email.”

I laughed again. “Seriously, Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?”

His grin lingered, and his eyes fell over the city. I could see the gears turning as he considered his response. Then he just shrugged.

“You covered for me.”

“Yeah.”

“And...” He leaned back, not taking his eyes from the sprawling lights. “Somethin’ tells me you still are.”

I looked at him for a while, trying to wait him out and make him elaborate. But he didn’t. I resigned with a sigh.

“Yeah, well.” I mumbled. “Carolyn Crawford was a giant bitch.” His lips fought a losing battle against another smile.

“Personally, I’m still a little impressed she had the gall to slap you.”

“Haha. Hey- did you actually take that picture?”

He shook his head, hesitating before adding. “Dick did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He chuckled.

“So I took the fall for both of you.”

“Yeah, you did, Princess.”

He had this familiar, juvenile grin stuck to his face. And for the first time in a long, long time, he was Jason Todd.

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