#i’m literally still standing up i feel like i suddenly have boundless energy
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tboy voice reveal, my partner recorded us taking shots to celebrate the death of henry kissinger, also ft my sister
@entrxpv @sokovianfortune
#personal#face#shelbunny#i’m literally still standing up i feel like i suddenly have boundless energy
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"I'm just looking out for you" - Yakko to Wakko
Yakko wasn’t usually one for waking up in the middle of the night, but with a loud crash and a flash of light so bright Yakko thought his eyes were open, Yakko was awake in no time. With a pounding headache, he grabbed a hold of his thoughts, and realized he should check to see if his sibs were okay.
Slowly, he got up out of bed and noticed that Dot had gotten out of bed at the same time. Well, at least she was okay...
Dot looked at Yakko groggily, silently asking what had happened, but Yakko had the exact same question so they both just shrugged at each other.
“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Wakko said, standing at the end of the hall.
“Try me,” Yakko yawned.
“Okay- So I was just sitting here playing this instrument I made, right? And then I saw a Wishing Star and I thought ‘what the heck’ and so I wished on it- and then this desire fulfillment facilitator named Larry came down in this big ball of green light and told me that I can make one wish if I go out and touch the wishing star first- and then the star fell from the heavens and crashed way out there!” Wakko said without taking a single breath, and pointed past the mountains out the door. Yakko didn’t quite believe him at first, but there it was- undeniably, there was a giant star resting behind the mountains, glowing almost as bright as day.
“Okay... so?” Yakko scratched his head, still trying to wake up.
“That means I have to go to the wishing star and make my wish,” Wakko said, surprisingly chipper for this late at night/early in the morning. “And I should go right now- before anyone else notices-”
“Woah, woah, woah. Slow your roll Wakko, you need to actually go to sleep, you still haven’t gone to bed,” Yakko pointed at him. “And besides, you absolutely cannot go alone. We’re coming with you,” Yakko said, nodding at Dot.
“Yeah! We’ll take the sled! It’ll be fun!” Dot smiled.
“That’s good, I really didn’t want to go alone,” Wakko sratched the back of his neck.
“You really think we’d let you?” Yakko raised an eyebrow.
“No,” Wakko laughed a little.
“Good. Now, let’s all get back into bed and we’ll head out in the morning,” Yakko nodded at his younger siblings and they both nodded and went their separate ways.
Fortunately, Yakko had quickly been able to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, morning seemed to come in the blink of an eye. When he did finally open his eyes and prepare himself to do his daily morning check up on Dot, he was surprised to find that both Wakko and Dot were sitting on the edge of his bed staring at him so hard, he almost fell out of the bed.
“Yay! You’re awake! We can go now!” Wakko grinned. Yakko wanted to be upset, but seeing his siblings practically bouncing off the wall with positive energy couldn’t help but bring a smile to his face.
“Alright, let’s get going,” Yakko rolled his eyes, though he really didn’t mind and did it with a smile on his face.
Together, the Warner siblings ran off to the shed where Yakko had been making the sled for Dot. What made it special was the fact that it had a sail and was big enough to fit a very old and warn out mattress, and with a pillow and blanket, Dot would be able to stay warm.
Slowly, Yakko and Wakko began to push and drag it out of the shed, and Yakko noticed that by the time they had reached the town square, people were starting to watch, curious about what they were doing. Before Yakko could think to stop anyone, Wakko and Dot started telling the whole town about the wishing star, and how the first person to touch it would get their wish.
This in turn started a chain reaction where suddenly everyone in town who had some means of transportation now wanted to go to the Wishing Star themselves and make their own wish.
Yeah, they probably should’ve kept it to themselves.
Oh well, The Warners carried on and started sledding away as fast as they could, especially since they now had competition.
This was going to be an interesting trip.
.o0o.
For the longest time, Yakko, Wakko and Dot had the lead in the race. They remained steady and ahead, the wind on their side and pushing the sail of the sled right along. Plus, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Dot and Wakko were making up songs about the wishing star, and guessing what it would feel like to touch a star. Yakko stayed mostly quiet, but that was because he was still tired. How his younger siblings managed to have seemingly boundless energy was beyond him.
However, after about an hour or so in, Yakko started to get nervous as he heard the voice of none other than the Baron himself shouting orders at the Constable Ralph. However, he did his best not to focus on that, and instead join in on his siblings conversation.
“If you could wish for anything, what would. you wish for?” Yakko asked them.
“I’d wish that we could have all the time in the world with each other, and never be seperated,” Dot said with a little smile. “What about you Yakko?
“I’d wish this could’ve happened in the summer, it would’ve been a lot easier to travel through,” He chuckled, though only somewhat joking. He was the only one without any real top covering and the wind was quite cold. his siblings laughed before Dot had another coughing fit.
“If I could have a wish, it’d be for a way to pay for your surgery,” Wakko said to Dot, patting her back. Yakko nodded.
His true wish was that his siblings wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, that they could soon be in a big, warm home and want for nothing, and that everything would just be... okay. That wasn’t a lot, right?
They kept on riding.
Yakko once again faded out of the conversation, steering the sled carefully as they twisted through the mountains, and trying his best to remain fast and steady so the Baron wouldn’t catch up with them. He could only imagine what he’d do if he did, he always had it out for him and Dot when he had gotten stationed there a year ago, right after Wakko had left. And now, as he glanced back, it seemed the Baron wasn’t any happier with them now than he was then.
Yakko kept his eyes forward from there.
Instead, his eyes focus on Wakko. He looked a lot more tired than Yakko remembered him being earlier, and the more he looked at him the more he noticed. He had a new scar on his knee that Yakko hadn’t noticed before, and he was really skinny. Yakko really wished he hadn’t pushed off talking to his brother yesterday because all of this Wishing Star business was too distracting.
“Yakko! Cliff!” Dot gasped and shouted and Yakko snapped back into he moment and pulled the break slowly, if a bit roughly. With a huff, he jumped down and examined the cliff, looking straight down and remarked at how deep it was.
“Do you get vertigo?” Wakko asked his brother, coping is motion.
“Nope,” Yakko said.
“Me neither,” Wakko clearly lied.
“C’mon Wak, we’re gonna have to pull the sled across,” The elder brother said, looking at the rickety bridge. Hopefully it’d survive the weight of the sled...
“Just- be careful and watch your step. We don’t want the bridge to break, understood?” Yakko said.
“Wouldn’t that slow everyone else down though?” Wakko asked with a sly grin.
“Wakko, no,” Yakko scolded, but couldn’t help but think that was a pretty good idea...
No. After this they’d have to head back to Acme Falls anyway, they needed the bridge.
“Just watch your step, and help me pull,” Yakko said.
Yakko had prepared for a situation like this, as he took out two pieces of rope and tied it to the sled. Then, he and Wakko started to pull. Yakko cringed when the bridge creaked under their feet, but they kept pulling anyway.
“Please don’t break, please don’t break, please don’t-”
Wakko cried out as the board gave way and he fell. Yakko’s eyes widened and he dropped the rope and rushed to help and relaxed a bit when he saw Wakko had maintained the grip on the rope.
“I-is he okay?” Dot gripped her blanket tightly.
“He’s holding on- it’s alright Dot,” Yakko said. “Wakko, hold on, I’m gonna pull you up,” He said to his little brother, who nodded and held on for dear life. Yakko could a deep breath, summoning all of his inner strength and slowly pulled his brother back onto the bridge.
“Phew, that was close, huh?” Wakko joked nervously, but Yakko’s face twitched.
“’That was close’??? That’s all you have to say???” Yakko was baffled, and mad, the swirl of emotions returning.
“I-”
“Wakko, You can’t just- You almost just-” Yakko sighed. “We need to keep moving.” Yakko gave up and stood and picked up the rope and started to pull again. Wakko looked at him apologetically and started pulling again too.
Eventually, they reached solid ground and Yakko was relieved to feel the snow crunch underneath his feet. Yakko then looked over at his brother and saw he guilty look on his face and realized he probably shouldn’t have snapped like that. Wakko started to head back onto the sled but Yakko stopped him by touching his shoulder.
“I’m sorry Wakko, I shouldn’t have gotten mad. It wasn’t your fault, I was just... trying to look out for you. I’m sorry,” Yakko said.
“I’m sorry Yakko, I should’ve been more careful,” Wakko bit his lip. Yakko gave his brother a quick hug before getting behind the sled and giving it the push it needed to continue onward.
However, everyone’s head turned when they heard a loud crack of a whip and they noticed the Baron was right behind them. Yakko frowned in determination and tried to make the sled go faster. However, apparently, the Baron didn’t want to play fairly as literal missiles were fired from his carriage.
“Geez, I always knew the guy was insane, but really?!” Yakko scoffed as he made a sharp turn to avoid them and they exploded against the mountain.
“That guy’s a maniac!” Wakko growled.
“You said it,” Yakko agreed, looking back to see Plotz sticking his head out of his window and growling at them.
He then shot three more missiles at them, but with careful navigation skills, all of them just went through trees instead.
Was this where all of their tax money was going to???
Dot and Wakko blew raspberries at Plotz, which only seemed to anger him, but Yakko laughed anyway.
However, the Baron’s next attack was much more effective, as a cannonball shot through and ripped their sail.
Yakko’s eyes widened when he realized that wasn’t the last one and that the next one was aimed at their heads.
“DUCK!!!” He shouted and dived at his sibs, and as they did the next cannon fired and took down the mast of the sled entirely. At least they still had their heads...
Still, it was clear Plotz was starting to lose his sanity, as he just kept firing cannonballs at them, which he kept getting worse and worse at aiming, so at least they also had that going for them.
Soon enough, there was a three-way division in the road, and Yakko made a last-second turn to the farthest one to the left, leaving the Baron behind Dr. Scratchnsniff and Hello Nurse’s elixir cart- how they managed to get ahead yet behind the warners was beyond them.
Still, Plotz was no longer attacking them, so Yakko finally relaxed.
However, the world seemed to hate Yakko, and as soon as they relaxed there was a loud explosion and shouts from the people on the other path, and Yakko just hoped Plotz didn’t kill anyone. Eventually, all three of the roads became one and Yakko got a good look at what had happened, but honestly couldn’t explain it.
Hello Nurse’s horse had in his teeth a strange device that held those weird mice he had rarely seen in Acme Falls but knew existed, as well as three pigeons, while Rita, Runt, Mindy’s dog Buttons and Mindy herself, The Doctor and Hello Nurse were all drinking their elixir drink and apparently must’ve had some kind of breakthrough two seconds ago because it wasn’t terrible. Yakko was curious about that, but they didn’t have time to stop, the Wishing Star was growing closer.
However, things went from strange to worse, when a loud crack went through the mountains, and everyone froze and turned their heads to find out that the worst had happened-
An avalanche.
Everyone scrambled back into their vehicles and raced away as fast as possible. Yakko glanced at his siblings, who were looking up at him nervously, hoping for encouraging words.
“J-just- hold on, it’ll be okay, we’ll make it. I know it,” he said, lying. In all honesty, the sled was losing momentum and if they stopped they were screwed.
Yakko did his best to keep his eyes forward so as to not see the snow getting closer and closer, knowing there wasn’t much they could do. They had to make it to the Wishing Star- they just did.
However, the world didn’t seem to hate him- it did, and soon the sled was lifted from behind by the snow and Yakko Wakko and Dot were knocked out and into the snow.
Yakko didn’t hesitate to dig up with all his fury and might, despite the pounding in his head and the soreness of his arms. He was not going to die like this, no siree. He had a job to do and that job was to protect his sibs by any means necessary, not leave them to die in an avalanche in the mountains.
Finally, he breached the surface and gasped for air and relief when he saw Wakko had already made it up. However, relief turned to panic when he couldn’t find Dot. He dug around him frantically, pleading that she was okay.
After a minute of panic and worry, Dot finally popped her head out of the snow and Yakko cried in relief. He dug the rest of his body out of the snow and lifted Dot out and gave her a bone-crushing hug, which Dot was too weak to return, coughing quite a bit. Still, Yakko didn’t care, she was okay.
“Look! The Wishing Star!” Wakko pointed and the other Warner sibs turned their head.
Yep, there it was. Yakko and Dot couldn’t help but “ooh” and “ahh” at it’s beauty and size. The thing was massive.
“Well, what’re we waiting for?” Yakko asked, setting Dot down but still holding her hand. Wakko grinned and held his brother’s other hand.
They made it- they had actually made it. Yakko had doubted a little bit back there, but it was actually happening. Sure, they no longer had a sled and had barely managed to survive but they were here and-
“Hello, Warners.”
That voice. That- face-
King Salazar.
Yakko wound up to sucker punch the king right in the face, but soon he and his sibs were surrounded by guards with guns aiming right at their faces. His siblings gasped and clung to him for safety, and Yakko hugged them both. He looked around and saw the other citizens of Acme Falls were getting the same treatment.
“Secure the area!” The king shouted at his troops and soon everyone was dragged off to a camp/fort the king had set up just for them. Yakko gulped nervously as he held his sibs close.
“Y-yakko is everything gonna be okay?” Dot asked nervously.
“I don’t know sibs... I really don’t know...” Yakko merely whispered, not having the strength to say much else.
“ATTENTION!” One guard shouted and everyone turned their heads. “All hail the mighty King Salazar!”
Yakko wanted nothing more than to kick his teeth in.
“That’s King Saladbar? He looks so ugly,” Wakko blabbed without thinking.
“I know right? You’d think with all the money he takes from poor innocent orphans he’d be more fashionable than said orphan,” Dot flaunted her own outfit. Yakko snickered and internally facepalmed at the same time, but the joy he felt left when the King’s eyes fell upon them.
“Plotz!” The King shouted for his loyal tax collector. Yakko gripped his sibling’s hands a little harder.
“Y-yes, your majesty?” Plotz bowed.
“I thought I told you to get rid of the little monsters, they’re still alive.” The king said, and Yakko felt a chill run down his spine.
Apparently, the King didn’t let go of grudges, go fig.
“I-i did my best s-sir,” Plotz said, glancing at the Warners and if Yakko wasn’t full of hatred for the man he’d almost feel pity for him.
“You failed me Plotz,” Salazar shook his head. “Lock him up with the rest of the prisoners. Same for the Constable and those rats with wings.” He snapped his fingers and they were dragged into the line with the rest of the people of Acme Falls.
“As for the Warner...” The king looked at them maliciously.
“Execute them.”
Yakko’s stomach fell to the floor.
Execution.
Them.
This couldn’t be happening.
He had to get them out of this, and fast.
“Ahhhhh, you don’t have to treat us special,” Yakko said, trying to put on a brave face.
“Oh, but I insist,” Salazar grinned, and a guard hit him with his gun to get him moving. Yakko growled and tried to think more, when it hit him.
“Okay Saladbar, have it your way,” Yakko shouted. “But we know secrets about the star that you dont~” He teased.
“We do?” Wakko tilted his head and Yakko elbowed him.
“I-i mean- Yeah we do!” Wakko grinned at the king.
“Like what? Tell me,” The king stomped over and demanded.
“Uh-huh. Well... perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement,” Yakko suggested, teasingly. The King thought about it for a minute and nodded.
“Fine, I’ll take you back to the castle, and you will tell me the secrets of the Wishing Star. Guards, take them away.” Salazar waved his hand after giving the new order and the Warners were dragged over to a cart where they sat, surrounded by guards and waited to be taken to the castle.
“But Yakko, the Wishing Star doesn’t have any secrets,” Dot whispered.
“I know, but he doesn’t know that. It’ll buy us some time to escape and let Wakko make his wish,” Yakko whispered back and his sibs nodded.
Good, at least now they had some semblance of a plan and weren’t being marched off to their doom. Still, things were looking kind of bleak, and Yakko just prayed he could think of something soon and fast.
It quite literally was a matter of life and death.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
#animaniacs#long post#my fics#yakko wakko and dot#wakkos wish#yakko warner#dot warner#wakko warner#this one is a long one boysssss#we in the movie for realz now#this took a long time#sorry for the delay lol#had an anxiety attack last night#anyway yeah#enjoy
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SFW Alphabet | Usami Tokishige
🎵 This may become a little brutal If I'm honest but It's any-anything for you my dear, I promise 🎶 You can figure our what I was listening to while writing this piece. Anyway, hope you’ll like it, anon! You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
The fact that Usami fell in love and now can’t shut up about them is not that surprising since the soldiers of the 7th Division have already witnessed his unhealthy obsession with the First Lieutenant. The dangerous aura of infinite adoration he carries does not bother others as much as well, maybe, because now his cursed energy has more output options, you know? It is not concentrated on one person and seems not so intense. Seems.
No matter how wild his fantasy runs, Usami behaves himself in their presence. Of course, his nerves are as taut as a rope since if he loosens up his attention he may not contain his passion…Chooses words carefully so as not to push them away and comes across as a lovely bubbly young man with the cutest smile! Even sitting in silence together is special. Usami can’t quit staring at them, they are so majestic!
He wants to follow them everywhere. Eat together, go on morning walks together, sleep together. Usami is a human version of burdock that will either quite by accident bump into his crush every other day or shamelessly ask them if they will be in this specific place or if they want to go there with him.
Personal boundaries? Don’t know her. As soon as his loved one gives him green light, Usami’s hands are all over the place. If he isn’t pinching their pink cheeks then he is patting their head. If he isn’t patting their head, he might be squeezing their ass. Usami is all about physical affection in every possible way, and it is extremely important for him to touch his partner. He might even lose it when they put a hand on his knee or take him by the hand, leave alone anything spicier.
Usami will end anyone who steps between him and his loved one. For him this is a cut-throat axiom, it is as natural as breathing, and it should be obvious to the surrounding. Anyone who wants to separate them automatically signs their own death sentence that will be carried out immediately by Usami himself.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
To be friends with the rabid Superior Private, you have to be a mad lad with no moral compass (the questionable moral compass is ok too) just like him or be a literal angel with the patience of a sage and a heart of gold to deal with the chaos Usami brings into your life. Also, this person has to have impeccable reflexes just in case he decides to cut this friendship off. Takagi Tomoharu didn’t and where is he now?
With such a friend, nothing is scary. Friendship with Usami provides invulnerability in situations where an ordinary person would think twice. In addition to that, Tokishige doesn’t really look for troubles and prefers to spend time like a real hedonist: red-light district workers know his preferences very well, the owner in his favorite diner always meets him with a question “the usual?”, and Usami knows places to hang around in general. His friend gets to experience life delights with him as well.
He needs so much attention! If it was up to him, Usami would spend at least an hour every day with them even when they have already talked about every single thing in the world. Everyday chats about nothing are cool, mutual flattery is appreciated. These points lead to Usami being overly possessive: if his best friend suddenly starts spending more time with someone else, he will definitely take action against this stumbling block.
Demands that his friend to follow the “the enemy of my friend is my enemy” rule. They are obligated to get embittered at Ogata. No, Usami doesn’t explain why, they just have to.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Usami has restless ass syndrome. It’s like restless legs syndrome but with ass: he can’t sit still for more than 15 minutes. Cuddles do not last longer than that and often progress into steamy making out. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to cuddle though. Usami prefers to do it while leaving some space for moving so the leg hug is just perfect. Any other position including classical spooning feels like a rabbit trap.
If his partner is bigger than he is, Usami will definitely lie on their chest with legs wiggling up in the air. First of all, now he can see their lovable face, and second of all, he is on top which means being in control.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Eeeh. Does he want to settle down? No, not really. Let’s say, there was no reason for him to think about settling down but even if there was, Usami would aggressively shake his head in negation. He is, just like Koito, too young to plan a quiet family life, and, at the moment, living on the wheels without thinking up ahead seems much more exciting than being chained to one place with one person. In his head, things are kind of overexaggerated but the answer to the question is still no for the next 10 years for sure.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
It is highly unlikely that Usami will break up with his partner in a proper manner. Self-deprecating comments and taking the blame for a failed relationship have no place in his explanation if he even decides to talk about it. Most likely Usami will leave them as spontaneously and unexpectedly as he popped up in their life in the first place: hops on a horse, gives them short indifferent look over the shoulder, and fades into the darkness of the night to never be seen again. Maybe, it’s for the better since Usami doesn’t have to face the fact he has nothing to say. Well, he chooses to be silent since crushing them with disinterest that makes the kid throw the old toy into the toybox doesn’t please him either. No check-ups, no letters, no “let’s stay friends”.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Avoids this question to the last minute because he is too young to commit and jump into family life. Usami reminds me of the type of person who wants to experiment in youth so that in old age he would not regret missing exciting opportunities. There is not a chance he will propose until he comes to the conclusion that he has already seen and experienced the most impressive stuff. So, maybe, from 7 to 10 years? Most definitely feels neutral about having an affair or two since he has a pretty lenient conscience.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Emotionally? Absolute emptiness with, perhaps, distorted memories of family love arising here and there. His feelings are strong, aggressive, filled with preceding excitement before the upcoming fun. Calm states of mind such as serenity, clarity, boundless love are too underwhelming for Usami. Wouldn’t call him gentle in the physical sense either: life is motion, and he has to move or do something, anything to feel alive, and impatience makes his moves rough and harsh. Even in a gentle embrace, it seems that he squeezes his loved one to their ribs cracking. He kisses them out until they want to slip out of his hands like a gasping fish. They may like it, they may not, but Usami doesn’t loosen his love grip and remains a (little) wild in the relationship.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Usami hugs them at the most unexpected moments, takes them by storm to squeeze the hell out of them. Perhaps these are his favorite ones, to pick them up high and spin, leaving their legs tingling in the air like a ragdoll.
His hands never stay in one place. Feeling their warm body under the fingertips is indescribable pleasure so Usami gives himself free rein to rub their back, squeeze their sides, press them to his chest, and nuzzle into their neck. He may bite them as well.
Can’t stand to be hugged when he is obviously busy to the point where Usami can kinda gently push them away but sees no problem when he does the same to his partner. Believes that everything can be forgiven for his big puppy eyes (and other particular qualities).
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Casually says it on like the second day of official dating over the cup of tea. Hard to say if he is for real so confident in his feelings or if he does it to check their reaction but nevertheless. Usami looks his loved one right in the eyes with undisguised beaming complacency, and his confession is short, definite, and unobjectionable. Propping his chin with his pale hands, he immediately returns to the casual conversation and keeps going joyfully about whatever on his mind like Usami didn’t just murmur how he is in love with them forever and for ever. After that, he is elated. Confession is a kind of seal of belonging to him, consent of another person is optional, it doesn't matter at all, all that does it that they are his and he is theirs.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
This shit is scary for everybody involved. Usami doesn’t get jealous per se but he has a strong feeling of having his loved one in his possession. Should someone try to covet his partner as hell breaks loose: regardless of who exactly was the initiator, - his loved one or another person, - Usami immediately takes action. In his mind, his partner can’t be guilty of infidelity, they were simply coerced into foul play and have to be taught how to recognize such a thing, they are innocent. This awful other person is different though, they are the ones who need to be taught some manners.
To start a fight Usami needs one dirty look, one carelessly thrown word. This is just an excuse to allow himself to take out all the anger on the poor soul. If Koito likes to gab hours on end but secretly hoping to avoid getting physical, Usami sees talking as a waste of time. Of course, if one fight is not enough, then Usami can go in for murder.
After the accident, he acts a lot rougher with his partner forcing them deeper into submission. To maintain ego and control and to be sure that they know their place, Usami needs praise, persuasion, and tons of physical affection.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Loves the concept of kissing, loves to kiss, and to be kissed. Sees every kiss as a personal signature but also, on another level, rewarding pastime so Usami is all about steamy make-out sessions. He is eager and rough, oftentimes marks his partner in visible areas with not only bright hickeys but with straight out bites. The look of dark crescents from his teeth scattering on their delicate neck turns Usami on like nothing else.
Likes to be kissed all over the body, would prefer them to be as rough though since casual soft kisses don’t really set a mood for him. The same goes for them, Usami won’t leave a spot unkissed on their body. Has a thing for the neck, wrists, and insides of the thighs.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Don’t let him around kids because it seems like Usami is good at it but in reality, he just builds up an army of naughty children to throw eggs at the neighbor's door. He like a devil coerces the goody angel into a mini-revolution under the nose of parents without offering any candy. Give this man a free hand, remove Tsurumi from his life, and you’ll see Usami growing into a cult leader. So, yes, he is pretty good with children older than like 5-6 years old, can’t do shit with babies younger than that. Usami hasn’t thought about being a father himself because beyond pranks and fun he knows absolutely nothing, zero, nada about raising children.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Incredibly active and varied if Usami managed to fall asleep before midnight the day before. He unceremoniously wakes his partner up either covering their face with kisses or pulling the blanket off them or starting a pillow fight. Expects his loved one to rise and shine without spending an hour just sitting here with an empty stare in the void.
Even when Usami collapses in the bed at dawn, it is possible that he will accidentally wake them up with a sweeping elbow blow to the nose. During the cold season, his partner should be ready to wake up trembling without a blanket. This bastard steals it every other night.
It is rare to see Usami cooking or doing anything useful at all in the house in the morning. He prefers to wander around while his partner lays the table and talk out loud to himself.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Unpredictable. He may get lost for an evening, come back with no explanation (we all know he was up to no good), and crash next to them with a smug smile. Other nights Usami can’t leave them alone: it feels like it is vital for him to fiddle with their fingers, play with their hair, pull them into a tight hug. The maximum relaxation effect is achieved with a couple of bitter sake shots drunk before meals.
Sleeping. Nobody canceled messed up sleeping schedule (check out the last letter of the alphabet) so Usami may have to make up for it by going to bed as early as 8 p.m.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Opens up slowly but doesn't pay much attention to what exactly he is saying. Everything that has happened to the present moment is already history so Usami treats it as such. What once pleased or upset him does not evoke any strong emotions now and he easily reveals his past to the loved one. Usami, of course, avoids mentioning the murder of his friend but with a partner who very clearly shows their loyalty, he will not hesitate to describe how much it turned him inside out and changed him, opening doors to the darkest corners of his soul. In return, Usami asks his loved one tons of questions from favorite color to a relationship with their mother, feeling free to ask the most intrusive ones.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He is in the state of the boiling kettle 24/7, ready to whistle for any given reason. Not that he is that angry, but definitely in an unstable state of mind. When he gets pissed off, Usami doesn't change in the face, except that his smile can get even wider baring sharp small teeth. In most cases, other people have to restrain his anger so the military does a good job at keeping Superior Private in check with an iron fist out of battles and letting him go wild when the situation requires it.
In the relationship, Usami teeters on the brink just like the outside of it but his reactions to upsetting situations are milder and are easily resolved by sublimating desire to destroy into intense workout, make out, etc. He is easy to blow out but he tries really hard to do not harm his loved one.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
There is a whole room in his mind palace to store volumes of information about the loved one. Usami thrives on discovering different aspects of his partner’s personality in deep conversations and in characteristic behavior that he enjoys so much to observe. Therefore, nothing goes unnoticed.
Perfectly navigates the tone of their voice: Usami knows exactly how their sadness sounds when they try to veil it with cheerful words and when to step back when they rise their voice in a fit of anger. Awfully useful with a person who has a hard time communicating and/or expects others to understand them just like that.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
He doesn’t have a favorite one. All meaningful moments like the first meeting, first kiss, other first times occupy equally important places in his heart so if asked Usami will murmur how every second with them is unthinkably precious and he can’t pick just one!
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Ready to faithfully protect his partner in the most dangerous situations. It is obvious, isn’t it? Usami will cover them like a shield on the battlefield, but most of the time he prefers to eliminate the source of danger: thanks to a state of perpetual alert and intense adrenaline rush, he can ignore multiple injuries for hours while shooting off foes. Usami lacks the voice of reason so he tends to overreact when it is completely out of place.
Oh, Usami doesn’t let anybody touch his loved one. As soon as he sees a hand reaching to them, he reflexively grabs it if not twists it with excessive force. Strangers understand they should not mess with Usami from his piercing look but there is always a fool who tempts fate in vain.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Not that much. He doesn't bother planning dates and gifts but sometimes there are moments of enlightenment that make Usami sit down and think about how to impress his loved one in a good way. Most of the time he prefers spontaneity to foresight since in his mind whatever is fun to him will work for them too.
Anniversaries are the dates when Usami is all sweetness and light: he runs around his loved one ready to bend over backward for their enjoyment. Seriously, he is ready to be used as a footrest for the whole day if it’s what they want.
Slacks on everyday tasks though, he is great at avoiding daily chores under the stupidest pretext.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
I won't even start talking about how unhinged he is, you should have had figured it out by now. I just have to mention again that this is an integral personality trait and Usami cannot physically change it. Take it or leave it. He is not forcing anybody to participate in his violent misadventures but he won’t tolerate attempts to stop them.
Control freak, Usami thinks he owns a person when in the relationship. He quite seriously believes that he is in control of their life and can decide whether they can or cannot do particular things. Of course, if they do not act in accordance with Usami’s wishes, they will be punished to prevent further misbehavior.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Usami’s skin is naturally silky and he likes to keep it this way despite the harsh weather conditions. Nobody knows if he is using any creams or other cosmetics but the fact remains: his face is almost baby-like soft. Also, running men tattoos fade quickly due to their location so Usami has to renew them quite often. He does it with enviable regularity and forbids everyone (except his partner and First Lieutenant) to touch his cheeks. His clothes are in fair condition as well as his shoes. Usami wears his clothes neatly, and never wears them off to the holes and patches.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
All attempts to break up with Usami end with his theatrical chuckle and short “good joke, darling”: they are not going anywhere until he allows them to do so. The more times his partner brings this dumb question up, the angrier he gets, barely hiding it behind biting his lips. By the time his patience bursts, Usami has already come up with a plan to keep them by his side, voluntarily or compulsorily. If they decide to leave him because they didn’t get enough attention and affection, Usami will try to fulfill their every whim. If they express their concerns regarding his behavior, Usami will learn how to hide unsightly features better. All in all, he is not going to let them go just because they want to. It seems that the risk of ending on the side of the road gives him even more fervor to fight for their love.
The only thing that remains for his loved one is to leave Usami with no farewell letter left behind. Otherwise, they risk gaining a stalker with military experience under his belt. Not the best combination if you ask me.
If they were killed, Usami one hundred percent will find their murderer and tear them apart. Literally. He snaps, he is not going to hold back any longer.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Must be an obvious one but Usami is a kinky bastard. He tries such things to which no adequate person would agree or if they did it is unlikely that they would tell anyone about it. This applies not only to sexual behavior, he is eccentric in general, he is not held back by social rules and limits of decency. Usami would set few things on fire just to see how long it takes each to burn to the crisps. Sucks fingers and toes. I don’t know, he does everything you are kind of uncomfortable to do. Might fuck around and start another war idk.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Can’t handle boring people. Looking at what he considers “boring” people tells that it includes people with no character, withdrawn from society and recent events, silly and predictable ones. First, most likely they would not interact with Usami considering how unhinged he is. He is more trouble than he is worth, you know. And secondly, Usami doesn’t notice them in the crowd. If his loved one happens to be too boring, he will leave them, sooner or later.
Anyone standing between him and First Lieutenant can forget about any relationship with Usami. It is impossible. The gears in his head are spinning like crazy to come up with a perfect plan and get away with their murder. No hard feelings, but Usami’s obsession with Tsurumi isn’t going anywhere, and the only scenario he can agree with is dating someone who if doesn’t support it then at least doesn’t try to ward him off of it.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
His sleep schedule is an absolute mess with no hint of changing in the future. First of all, Usami sleeps 4-6 hours per day, can’t sleep during the day so he doesn’t take naps and doesn’t nodes off. At the same time, these short hours of sleep do not stick to night time only: sometimes Usami decides to go to bed at 3 a.m. still full of energy, other days he crawls under the blanket at 6 p.m. exhausted to the point of collapsing. He never complains about sleep, sees almost acid-trippy dreams a few times a month, and not even once had to take a pill to fall asleep.
Sleeps like a dead man with limbs entwined around his loved one. His lips break into a sweet smile as Usami throws a leg over their body and presses himself closer. He looks so peaceful you’d never think this man can bite your hand and throw you out of the window uwu.
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Hope you get better soon! When you have time, can you get your thoughts on Knight of Life? I’ve been rethinking my classpect recently and I’m vibing with that one most at the moment. Love your analysis work!
Of course!
Life is the Aspect of Life, Energy, Wealth, Prosperity, Motivation, Desire, Growth, Healing, Power, Luxuries, and Liberation.
Knights of Life are those who Protect with/Protect Life. They are also those who Weaponise Life, and those who Exploit Life.
Knights of Life are infinitely peppy people. They’re go-getters, always on the go, never stopping for a single second; it must be exhausting watching them, let along trying to keep up with them, because they’re just filled with this boundless Energy. They seem to have a purpetual Motivation to achieve, and always seem to hit their lifetime goals, no matter how large or small; maybe this means achieving a high score in a game, or maybe it means getting that dream job that seemed completely impossible for them to get.
However, they’re also perfectionists. Knights of Life have an innate fear of failure. They sincerely can’t handle the idea of being good enough - which, considering this is the general struggle of any Knight, means that they are almost crippled by this fear. They don’t just want to be perfect. They want to be better than perfect; they want to set the highest score, want to create world records that never existed before, they want to be the best of the best. Anything less than this makes them feel as if they’re stagnating.
The facade of the Knight of Light would therefore be cool and confident. They have no worries in the world, everything just comes easily! They act as if they don’t struggle because they see this as a form of weakness. As if any sign that they’re finding something hard is proof that they’re not good enough. They might be a bit over-the-top, a big braggy, but it’s not to hurt people; it’s to try and cover up the perceived cracks in their facade.
In fact, Knights might be the most protective Players going. They will defend the Life of their friends to their last breath, as well as anything else they see that they think is worthy or Protecting. Of course, this could mean quite literally anything - such as an especially beloved plant. Since Life Players are stubborn, I’d say good luck trying to get them to forgive you for accidentally killing something, too. They might seem unaffected, but I assure you, they’ll be mourning inside for a while - mostly because they perceive the death as their own failure.
Being Knights, they are innately intune with the Protection of Life. They defend Life - the literal Lifeforce of people, the things that keep them going, that little flicker of Life that exists within everything - but they also defend the right to Life - someone’s right to Live the Life they want, the ability for someone to Grow beyond the boundries that are forced upon them.
This means Defending small lifeforms, things people think are inconsequential, because they’re aware of how important those lifeforms are - such as bugs, which might be an integral part of the ecosystem but are seen by most people as pests or simply disgusting enough to be worth squishing. It might mean Protecting an endangered species, stopping it from going extinct (perhaps by Exploiting the Desire for hunters to hunt them, or the Wealth of the rich to sink their money into charities revolving around the continued conservation of the species).
It also means Defending someone being stamped down on at work, told they can’t get the same wage as someone else or being threatened with joblessness. They’ll still survive if they lose it, but their quality of Life will be lessened. The Knight Defends this person’s right to afford the Luxuries they want and to lead the Life they Desire most - their right to Grow as a person, and to rise up the promotional ladder.
Using their facade in conjunction with this, they might use themself as a rolemodel for other people, Exploiting their Desire to be like the Knight to encourage their Growth. If they have something untouchable to aim for, they’re more likely to continue an upward movement of Development - and to hit their own achievements in the process.
Of course, such a focus on Life means that Death is... almost impossible for the Knight to handle.
More than any other Player, Death to the Knight of Life means failure. They didn’t try hard enough. They didn’t do their job. Stagnation and Death is evidence that they failed. It will take the Knight some time to realise that some failure is okay, and that there is a Cycle of Life that all things have to abide by. Death is natural. Death is okay.
They’re long-time mourners for this, I think. They likely don’t know how to let go of those that have passed on. They might never accept Death, but it’s important for the Knight of Life to not drown in their sorrow of those now gone - especially since they can Protect the Life of the person in memory, continuing on their legacy rather than mourning their loss.
Of course, there’s more to a Knight than just Defence. They can Exploit and Weaponise Life, which is pretty terrifying if you think of it in a more literal sense. Exploitation of Life might mean literal servants, an army of people willingly working for the Knight, or might mean the formation of a clique, a group that revolves around the Knight while also standing on more equal ground.
And, of course, Weaponising Life... as a general rule of thumb, that makes me think of someone taking control of plants (e.g. vines) and using them to attack their foes. Or speeding up someone’s position in the Life-cycle - making them old and grey before suddenly their powers cut out (because beyond that, it goes into the bounds of Doom and Time).
They can take Luxuries and make them worthless (such as a beautiful gold necklace, by suddenly releasing the entire mass of gold to the market and causing a sharp drop in its price due to loss of scarcity), can take something that seems so useless and make it the most impressive thing in the world (such as a leaf, which might have such amazing medicinal properties that it becomes a highly valued item - especially if the Knight withholds it from the people).
They can accumulate Wealth at incredible speed - Exploiting peoples’ Desires in order to take their Wealth away from them, such as by offering something inconsequential but nostalgic in return for something of great Material worth - and can sky-rocket up any societal structure with little work - such as by Exploiting a corrupt voting or political system to shove themself into a place of power.
In a more physical sense, Exploiting Life can mean easily taming wild animals, enhancing the Growth of plants and trees artificially, and taking an active part in evolution to ensure they get the end result that benefits them most. They might be the person who ends up handling the Ectobiology of the session - and through Exploitation of that machine, create some weird and wonderful things that maybe never should have existed to begin with. Exploitation of genetics and how genetics work, rather than creating something from complete scratch.
If we think about going extremely far with this, Knights of Life might be able to hit the peak of their full bodily potential. You know how sometimes people can do incredible feats of strength in moments of duress - like an old lady lifting up a car to pull it off of her grandchild? The Knight of Life can do that, but intentionally.
While I don’t think Knights of Life would be Healers, per se, I think what they can do is bump up immunity. They could make anything immune and impervious; no disease would ever be an issue to those they Protect, and no weapon would ever be able to pierce their skin. They’d quite literally make their friends invulnerable - but not invincible. Lack of oxygen would still be an issue, and it’s questionable as to whether or not a Knight of Life could extend someone’s Life. They definitely can’t revert it.
They can, however, Exploit immune systems in reverse, too. If they can boost someone’s immune system to make them invulnerable, they can take that immune system apart bit by bit, too. Imagine making the Imps deathly sick and weak simply because the Knight Exploited how their immune systems worked, made them attack their own cells rather than incoming pathogens.
Knights of Life, as I’ve said above, have to learn to let go. They need to let down their Facade, to accept some imperfections, but also to recognise that they’re doing enough. They are enough. They need to stop beating themselves up if they aren’t overachieving, to take that pressure off their shoulders. They have to recognise that Death is something that happens, and that while they can avoid it, can work around it, can overcome it, they are not at fault if Death occurs. They tried their best. That’s what matters. They have to let go of past sorrows by turning them into future Growths.
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A Cosmic Suggestion
Here’s me being the literal only bee man stan. More Orphydice to come later.
(Danielle)
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Demeter doesn’t just wake up wishing for a baby.
No, she thinks; that would be crazy.
Only, she does wake up wishing for a baby-her baby, with her big, dark eyes and her dimpled smile, the presence she felt so vividly in a dream escaping her hold as soon as she regains her presence in the physical world. She rolls over in bed feeling empty-lost-as if a piece of her soul had come and gone all in one night. Demeter rises from bed wearily, recognizing the weight on her chest as a hole she can not fill. She’d known the infant in the dream she’d had, felt her presence as an extension of her own being. She’d never felt this before-not in any dream, not from any iteration of the present or future. This is something entirely new, slightly frightening.
She begins her morning the same way as usual; putting the kettle on the stove, walking out into the fresh air to gather eggs for the chickens. Then she gathers up her canvas bags, slips on her well-worn sandals, and makes her weekly trek down to the farmers market. She had thought by now that the same sort of monotony she’d had in the city would catch up to her. Following a routine here is much different than the city; she still wields the powerful freedom that comes with being tied only to the sun’s position in the sky and the length of the labor that tending her plants or working on a new knit or stitch will take. Today, she brings a host of small gifts; a pair of potholders in exchange for some flour, a patched up pair of overalls for a small harvest of zucchini. She prefers life this way, in which she can work her own land, where the community works together to raise each other in unity.
She attempts to make her rounds in some semblance of an order, one tent at a time, but the sensation of prickling anxiety settles in the space behind her heart, pulls her toward the stand with painted honeybees. She stands bemused, one hand on her hip, as she watches Theo. His back is turned toward the crowd and he’s bent down low, rifling trough his wheeled cart. She brings her attention to his wares; bottles of the sweet nectar in varying colors, hand-drawn labels boasting flavor infusions and uses. There’s lavender for sleep and tea, a light honey for sweetness, juniper for its medicinal properties. When he turns around he gives a slight jump at the sight of her, grinning immediately and coming around his booth to hug her tight. Where she’s only slightly taller than average he still has a good deal of height on her, and her lithe body nearly disappears in his embrace.
“I was wondering where you were,” he teases, leaning one arm on his self-made booth. “Didn’t think you’d show up today.”
“I got caught up finishing a project, almost lost track of time.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She smiles, Theo standing straight and moving back behind his booth to help an older man with three bottles in his hand. She takes up her place atop his wheeled cart, sitting cross-legged and tossing her bags to the grass, letting the sun sink into her skin. There is a sudden glow about her not just brought by the weather, a glow that settles where her anxiety had once sat. Now it is only a pull, a longing. She closes her eyes, puts her hand over the space the new feeling rests and takes a breath. Demeter sends her energy down to the spot behind her heart, pictures the glowing, attempts to capture the feeling and label it. In the noise of the market she can hear soft vocals with plucking folk guitar, children laughing and running and Theo’s charismatic smile as he jests with the older man, a loyal customer.
It’s him.
She’s consumed with the hole in her chest from the morning, from the sudden longing for a child to raise on her farm, for the solitary motherhood she knows she’s meant to have. Demeter sits in this feeling for a while; the emptiness, the yearning, the new truth of her future. Then, she’s interrupted. Theo’s hand is on her shoulder, resting there.
“Anxious?” He asks, and when she opens her eyes he’s gesturing to her hand over her heart, taking her physical cues to guess her ailment. The moment she meets his eyes, the pieces of her own mind connect. It’s him. He’s the answer.
She’s taken back by her own thoughts at first, staring at her friend with an undeniable curiosity. It surprises her, not because he seems unworthy but because he seems the most worthy of all; Theo is kind, charismatic. His soul is gentle, soft. She wonders if-when-she takes her cosmic suggestion, he will be willing to help her. It’s a strange request to ask of anyone, let alone a new yet very good friend. She’d only met him two weeks ago, had only seen him both Saturdays and one weekday between. They’d become close in that time, close enough for a comfort to be found in these long days at the farmers’ market, where she’d sit on the grass and keep him company while he charmed the crowd into buying his stock.
“Well, your grandfather was right about you being a good salesman.”
“I think it’s just about being honest-people want to know what we do and I’m here to give them the truth. We’ve been at this for years now, we know how to treat them humanely and not overharvest. And they’re always welcome to the apiary if they want-that always gets people nervous. Nobody wants to be around the bees but they all want to pretend they know how to take care of them.”
“Well, I think you’re doing a great job.” The crowd has slowed down a bit, just enough for Theo to stop and sit beside her and take half of the sandwich she’d gotten from a neighboring booth. He reaches over and touches his half to hers, saying cheers before digging in.
They watch the bustle of the momentarily thinned-out crowd, most booth owners pausing for lunch just as they are. Theo leans back on one arm, kicking his long legs out in front of him. He’s in his typical dress-khaki colored cargo shorts, a Henley, and Birkenstocks. He wears a little honeybee button on his shirt, only a slight contrast to the mustard yellow he’d chosen to wear. Demeter watches him intently, attempts to gauge his mood and predict his reaction.
As always, Theo is calm; a patch of sunshine manifesting in a tall, well-built body and a goofy sort of smile. He takes the day in stride, gets up to help another customer and ends up chatting with them for a long while, asking about her family and the kids she hadn’t brought to the market that day. Even as a newcomer he knows these details, knows the people who have become Demeter’s community. She’s struck by the brightness with which he maneuvers conversation, how he’s able to strike up conversation with seemingly anyone that walks by his booth. In the moments where it’s just them, he shares stories of growing up at the apiary.
“My grandfather seems like he’d be really stern-mean. He likes to put up this front that nobody believes because in reality, he’s the nicest man you’ll ever meet. My mom was a stay-at-home mom all my life, and my dad worked with my grandfather. He’s the son-in-law; my grandfather never had any actual sons. But my dad took over where nobody else would. He wanted to help. I always admired that about him. Besides, I love being at the farm. What about you?”
Demeter lets her curls fall over her shoulders, shrugs and turns her cheek against the sun to look back at him. She’s neither upset or enthused, simply relaying the facts of her story, the way she’d gotten to where she is.
“I grew up in the city. My father left us when I was old enough to feel the sting of it, my mother worked and became obsessed with things. It was always about what she could buy, never about when she could be with me. My nana owned this beautiful, tiny little farmhouse I used to be able to visit once a week for a sleepover, when my mom would work overnights and get sick of having me around. I helped her with all the chores. It was my favorite time of the week-I looked forward to it more than anything else. She was a tiny woman, got more of my dad’s genes than my mom’s. I was taller than her by a head or two, but she still called me her little one. She used to let me eat her tomatoes right off the stem, full bite like an apple.” She laughs at the memory, freckle-dappled skin glowing gold against the warmth of the day. “I moved out here right when I graduated high school, right when she started getting sick. I took care of her until her last day. She left that beautiful little house to me, and now I’m watching it like she watched me.”
Theo nods attentively, puts one hand over hers on the grass.
“Well, for what it’s worth I think your nana knows that her house is in good hands.” He smiles, boundless optimism showing as he holds a jar of golden honey to the sun, opens it and sticks a wooden spoon inside. In one swift movement he’s eaten it, offered her the jar to do the same. She dips in, bumps her stick against his and feels the soothing texture coat her throat.
“Hey Theo?” The anxiety settles at the base of her heart when he turns to look at her, and suddenly things aren’t as clear as they had been when she’d woken up. The reality between what she believes in her soul dances threateningly along societal norms, a friendship she does not want to break. And when he hums, holds out the honey for her to dip her spoon again, she feels herself walk right to that precipice. “Can I show you my nana’s house?”
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Tell ‘Em You’re My Lady
Hoseok x Reader - Fluff/Angst - 6.6k Words
A/N - Just a little Hobi one-shot that has been whirring around in my brain for a bit. Might be a bit of a mess as this is only the second story I have written! I'd love any feedback. Thank you in advance for reading! :) PS I'm REALLY awful at summaries.
Warnings - None
Summary - Newly single, your friends try to convince you that maybe your friendship with Hoseok could be a little something more.
The club was far too dark and far too loud, and between your retinas being assaulted by sudden intense beams of light, the bass pounded obnoxiously in your ears and promised a night of tinnitus long after you escaped to your bed.
No one had forced you to come here, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t like you had been persuaded to leave your self-imposed isolation by concerned friends who were worried you had been alone for too long for it to be healthy. No, they had given up on that a week and a half ago now.
Jenny, the closest of your friends and the last one to deem you a lost cause – at least for the time being – leant over the bar and topped up your drink, free pouring vodka in to your glass with a wink, completely ignoring the fact that it still contained the remnants of rum and coke from your previous drink.
“Won’t you get in trouble if you keep giving me free drinks?” you asked, inclining your head towards Laura, Jenny’s manager and the owner of the club as she eyeballed the two of you from the glass wash area. You waved sheepishly at her while wafting your other hand haltingly in the direction of the bottle to stop her topping up your glass even more.
She blew you a flamboyant kiss, a habit she had picked up from her boyfriend which had started off as slightly cheesy and off-putting, but had somehow become quite endearing over time, and you grinned warmly at her despite yourself. Jenny gestured a ways down the room as she placed the bottle back on the shelf with the other liquor, out of view and reach to the patrons on the other side of the bar. “Courtesy of the gentleman in the check shirt,” she announced with a smirk.
You lifted your glass gratefully in acknowledgment to the man standing about fifteen feet away, tilting your head with as genuine a smile as you could muster. He harrumphed and walked swiftly away back in to the crowd of people in response, and you realised that while he may indeed have been responsible for buying the drink, you were certainly not the intended recipient of it.
You couldn’t really claim to be surprised, you hadn’t left the comfort of your home with the intention of attracting anyone’s attention, and you knew your unkempt and cosmetic-free appearance projected that quite clearly.
You raised an eyebrow accusingly at her and she shrugged. “I’m not allowed to drink while I’m on shift,” she offered by way of explanation, and then suddenly began jumping up and down on the spot before dashing through the gap at the end of the bar and throwing off her apron while in motion.
That could only mean one thing. Jin. You turned on your stool to confirm your suspicion and found your best friend literally wrapped around her boyfriend, arms round his neck and legs at his narrow waist, drawing bewildered looks from all around them.
You were too far away to hear their exchange, but you imagined it was similar to every other greeting you had ever witnessed between them, and you watched as he gently lowered her to the ground and began to gesture giddily and emphatically at her, his face animated as he cradled your friend’s face in his hands before dropping what could only be described as a dramatic kiss to her forehead and leading her back towards the bar with his arm curled protectively around her back.
Even Laura, who was currently standing impatiently with one hand on her hip and the other outstretched with Jenny’s apron dangling from her index finger, was close to powerless when faced with Jin’s exuberant charm, and her expression softened the moment he leant on the bar and started to chatter enthusiastically at her.
Jenny rolled her eyes affectionately at them, tying her apron back around her waist and observing as her boss began to almost literally melt at Jin’s attention. You turned back towards the bar and rested your chin in your upturned palm. Her reaction was unsurprising to you, it was near-impossible to not be swept up in Jin's magnetism, he was one of the most charismatic men you had ever met, not to mention how attractive he was.
He ended their interaction with a suave wink before turning to face you. “And how are you then, y/n? It’s nice to see you out in the real world again, we missed you.” His tone was sincere even though his eyes still sparkled with mischief as he spoke.
You patted the hand he had placed on your arm dismissively before taking a sip of your drink, wincing at the liquor to mixer ratio. “Sure Jin, I bet it was terrible to have my best friend all to yourself for the past three weeks,” you responded sarcastically with a wry smile.
He pouted, his eyes widened in mock-offence that you would even consider that he may be not be being honest. “What? Why would I lie? My Jenny was inconsolable without you around, even while looking at this face,” he made an incredulous sound at the back of throat and framed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Can you believe it, y/n? This face. Wow.”
You smirked down in to your glass and once again thanked whichever god that was listening that Jenny had found Jin, and you clinked your glass against the bottle of beer Jenny had just placed in front of him. You saw him take a long drag of his beer out of the corner of your eye before he tilted his head and eyed you pensively for a moment. “What is it, Jin?” you asked, not looking at him to focus on swirling your drink around the bottom of your glass in an attempt to mix the concoction in to a more palatable one.
He shrugged, too nonchalantly to be convincing, the beginnings of a smirk starting to tug at one side of his lips. “Oh nothing. Well...I think Hoseok might have missed you a little too.”
You sighed and knocked the entirety of your drink to the back of your throat before coughing at the taste and dropping the now-empty glass on to the bar surface with a bang. “Do we really need to get in to this again? I’ve been single for all of five minutes and you’re already trying to pair me off with one of your friends?”
To be fair to Jin, you would have had to have been blind, crazy or both to not want to be set up with one of his friends. Now there was a group of young men who had won the genetic jackpot, both in terms of looks and demeanour, and it had always seemed to you that the only logical reason that any of them were single – with the exception of Taehyung and Jungkook who were far more interested in gaming than dating – was because it was just plain intimidating to be around them sometimes.
Your ex had always resented the fact that you were friends with them, even if it was only by association through Jenny’s relationship with Jin, and he would make a fuss if you were ever in their presence without him. He especially took issue with your friendship with Hoseok.
It was fairly safe to say that Jin’s personality was unique, he had boundless energy and a predominantly positive outlook on more or less every aspect of life, but if anyone came close to mirroring Jin’s optimism and joie de vivre, it was Hoseok.
The moment you had met him you were drawn to him. He was warm and kind to anyone and everyone he came in to contact with, and you had become fast friends.
Friends. That was all it had ever been between you. That wasn’t to say he was unattractive, far from it. In fact, sometimes the sun caught his skin just the right way and you would swear he glowed. Other times you would find yourself staring at the defined line of his jaw and wondering if it would feel as sharp as it looked if you were to run your fingers over it.
Okay, so maybe you had had a tiny thing for him when you first met – you were only human, after all – but it didn’t take long for your admittedly healthy crush on him to dissipate, until all that was left was a deep, affectionate, and wholly platonic relationship.
You hadn't seen him since your break up. He had sent you messages of support and his usual ridiculous selfies to cheer you up, but he had been away competing with his dance troupe and had been too far away to visit you, a regret he had expressed repeatedly in his messages.
“Jin, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that Hoseok and I are friends, that is it. Anyway, he’s been seeing that girl from his troupe for months now hasn’t he? Last I heard they were getting pretty serious,” you ran your finger around the rim of your glass, your throat starting to ache from trying to speak above the music.
“Well he’s not seeing her anymore,” Jin declared loudly, just in time for the music to come to an abrupt halt as the DJ announced that his set had come to an end.
“Who isn’t seeing who?” The familiar voice came from behind you and you scrunched your face up in embarrassment, closing your eyes in an effort to escape reality.
You craned your neck to return the bright, heart-shaped smile you already knew would be gracing his features. “Hoseok, it’s so good to see you! It’s been so quiet without you around,” you said honestly.
He curled his arm around your shoulders and squoze you in greeting, resting his chin a atop your head for a moment. “Quiet? Even with Jin-hyung?” He quipped, earning an offended glare from the older man.
You untangled yourself from his hold, suddenly shy as you pondered how much he might have heard before he made his presence known. “Hm, good point now you mention it,” you tried not to meet his eyes but you didn’t miss the perplexed look he shot you as you moved away from him.
“Ya, how can you two gang up on me and offend me this way, you wouldn’t even know each other if it wasn’t for me? Hoseok-ah I can’t believe you are being so disrespectful, how could you do this to me? And in front of my girlfriend? You really have no shame at all!” Jin was prone to dramatic but good natured outbursts whenever he felt affronted or wronged in anyway, and his lips pouted and he pointed at the two of you emphatically in turn as he ranted, lifting himself off his seat as though preparing to storm off, firing the two of you a theatrically injured expression as he do so.
He was, in fact, moving to the other end of the bar to order drinks for the three of you and flirt shamelessly with his girlfriend’s boss in an effort to get her to allow Jenny to finish her shift early, a feat that he attempted and achieved so often that you were surprised Laura still allowed you all to drink at the club while Jenny was working.
Hoseok took up residence in Jin’s now-vacated seat, smiling warmly at you as he shifted on the stool, leaning forward on his forearms resting on the bar. “So,” he began, lowering his head to examine your face, “how are you really?”
You returned his concerned look with a tight-lipped smile. “I’m honestly fine, it’s just...disappointing, I guess,” you huffed out a sigh, exasperated with yourself and the fact that your ex was still managing to take up so much focus even after you had escaped him. “It just seems like so much time wasted, you know? It wasn’t as though either of us were particularly happy, I can’t help but wonder how much happier we’d both be by now if we’d have called it off ages ago.”
He made a small humming noise, seemingly in agreement, meeting your eyes for a beat too long before blinking rapidly and looking away. “You’ll get there, y/n,” he assured you in a quiet voice that was entirely antithetical to his usual manner, and you were grateful the music volume had reduced enough since the DJ left, otherwise you most likely would have been unable to hear him. “You deserve to be happy.”
His words were loaded with meaning even though he was unable to meet your eyes, and for reasons you were unable to fathom butterflies began to pool in your stomach as you tried to read his face for any indication of what that meaning may have been. You saw his jaw tighten for a second or two, his vision straight ahead to the plethora of bottles lined up at the back of the bar, before he suddenly huffed deeply and turned to face you again, the bright smile returning as though it had never vanished.
The abrupt shift in his countenance threw you for a moment, and you were temporarily blinded by that smile, blinking rapidly in an effort to regain your equilibrium before trying to speak. “How come you're back? I thought the competition went on for like another two weeks yet?”
Before he could answer, Jenny appeared on the other side of the bar, placing a drink down before each of you heavily, her eyes flicking between you, an odd expression on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but seemingly thought better of it and hurried away.
Hoseok, his eyebrows furrowed at the strange almost-interaction, shook his head a little before he spoke, wrapping his slender fingers around the bottle of beer in front of him. “Jimin got hurt, something happened to his back and he could barely move,” he lifted his drink and took a small swig, and you saw concern lace his features. Hoseok was soft for pretty much everyone, but he was especially fond of Park Jimin. “He said we should carry on without him, but that’s never going to happen. Even if you ignore that routine changes we’d need to make, it wouldn’t be the same without him there.”
You smiled warmly at him, touched by his loyalty, but disappointed on his behalf that they’d had to give up after getting so far. “It would have been a pretty big deal if you’d have won thought, right?” They had been preparing for the competition for months, it was a fairly prestigious event with the prize money totalling more than all their previous competitions combined, not to mention the sponsorship deals that could have potentially arisen from their victory.
Despite that, Hoseok merely shrugged in response. “It would,” he simply stated. “But not if we’re not all there to win it. Not everyone agreed with me though.”
“Oh,” you drew out the sound as realisation hit you. “Is that why you and Mieka broke up?”
He froze for a moment and then looked at you strangely, placing his bottle back down on the bar as amusement began to take over his features. “How did you hear about that?”
“I told her,” Jin appeared behind you as though right on cue, his arm draped around your friend’s shoulders, clearly having succeeded in his task of getting her out of finishing her shift. “That okay?”
“Sure,” he answered carefully, eyeing Jin suspiciously, before returning his attention to you, a forced laugh leaving him. “What else did he tell you?”
You lifted your eyebrows at his tone, unsure of the implications that were lingering just beneath the question. “Um...nothing, I think. He just talked about his face for a bit.”
Hoseok visibly relaxed at your answer, disregarding your poor attempt at humour either to spare your feelings or because he hadn’t really heard it, it was unclear which. He began to pick at the label on his bottle, his face a picture of forced concentration as he slowly peeled the damp paper away from the glass. “Yeah, that’s why we broke up,” he confirmed before tilting his face towards you and giving you a lopsided smile.
His smile had always been ridiculously infectious from the moment you met him, and this time was no exception even though you noticed a slight melancholy beneath it. You beamed back at him but did not miss the look the passed between Jenny and Jin before the latter of the two placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Finally, the music increased in volume again as the in-house DJ began his set and Jin was clearly becoming restless. “Come on then, we need to celebrate y/n’s first night out in half a million years,” and, before waiting for anyone to respond, he pulled Jenny towards the dance floor and began to shake his shoulders haphazardly in a dance that was so quintessentially Jin it never failed to make you laugh.
After watching Jenny attempt to simultaneously remain upright while in a fit of hysterics and avoid her boyfriend’s flailing limbs for a few moments, Hoseok drained his bottle of beer and hopped down gracefully from his stool, holding his hand out to you. “Shall we then?” He asked simply, curling his fingers around yours with a genuine grin after you placed our hand in his without hesitation.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you responded, and as clichéd as your response was, the sentiment still rang true.
You always loved to watch Hoseok dance, his movements somehow powerful and graceful in equal measure, even now as the four of you danced with an almost reckless abandon and disregard for how you may look to other revellers in the club. Despite the fact that he joined Jin in his un-choreographed and almost spasmodic movements, the strength and control beneath every move was apparent and your eyes were abruptly drawn to the muscles in his thighs flexing as he danced and the apparently tireless movement of his hips.
You felt your mouth become unbearably dry and you suddenly felt near-hypnotised by his proximity, and Jin's claim that Hoseok in particular had missed you began to whir around suggestively in your mind. You thought about the way he had looked at you tonight at the bar, the expression on his face as he told you that you deserved to be happy, and how he hadn’t seemed quite able to meet your eyes on several occasions since his arrival.
So preoccupied were you with replaying and analysing your interactions with Hoseok that night and thoughts of his undulating hips, you hadn’t noticed Jenny approaching you, and you were startled as she softly touched your shoulder and whispered in your ear.
“Are you alright? You’ve been doing the school dance two-step for about half a song now.”
Her words shook you from your thoughts, and you were jolted back in to the present, re-focusing your eyes to find Hoseok observing you, concern lacing his fine features.
You struggled to tear your eyes away from his, feeling your face become hot at the images your mind had been subjecting you to. You finally turned to Jenny, your words weak as you answered. “I’m okay,” you insisted, and you knew that if the music was quieter she wold have heard the contradictory squeak in your voice. “I just need to go to the bathroom.”
Before Jenny could respond, you saw Hoseok beginning to move towards you and decided to make a hasty exit, taking off in the direction of the relative safety of the restroom before you gave anything away, irrationally concerned that he would suddenly attain psychic abilities and know all the thoughts racing hotly through your head.
You fought your way through the crowd clumsily in your hurry to try and escape, irritated at yourself for allowing your imagination to run away with itself the way it had, and surprised at just how potent the feeling of desire was that had travelled through you as you had become entranced with the movement of Hoseok's body.
He was your friend for crying out loud.
This was all Jin’s fault really, filling your head with suggestions that Hoseok may harbour feelings for you that went slightly beyond platonic. Mind you, Jin had only really said that he had missed you a little, anything after that – any assumptions or interpretations – had been down to you entirely.
You groaned aloud to yourself, resolving to splash your face with cold water and carry on with the night without acting like a horny teenager, it had just...been a while, that was all. Hoseok had just been kind and sweet to you in a way that you hadn’t experienced in a while, and you had decided to start fantasising about him like some kind of deviant.
As you patted your face dry with the rough paper towels you examined your reflection. It might not have hurt to put on a little make-up before you'd left the house. Under the fluorescent lights, the bags under your eyes looked even more pronounced, and you noticed a stain of unknown origin just beneath the neckline of your t-shirt.
You reached over to the dispenser and pulled out more paper towels, running them beneath the faucet for a few seconds before trying to fruitlessly scrub away at the mark. You exhaled loudly at the futility of the attempt and leant forward with both hand braced on the sink, feeling tears begin to prick at the back of your eyes.
Why did you come here? You were obviously not ready to reintroduce yourself to the real world if you were just going to start salivating at one of your closest friends at the slightest inference that he may have been interested in you. You balled up the napkin in your hand and lifted it to rub at your eyes in an effort to stop the tears that were threatening to spill out.
You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and turned to see a pretty girl in a slinky black dress holding out a tissue to you. “You’ll hurt yourself with those,” the girl said, nodding her head towards the paper towel dispenser.
“Thanks,” you replied shakily, taking the tissue while sniffling and smiling gratefully at her, duly reminded that in times of distress, sometimes the ladies restroom is the nicest place to be.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled warmly at you, snapping her purse shut and turning to fluff her hair in the mirror. “Do you have some people out there to cheer you up?” You nodded in response and she gestured towards the door. “Let’s go then,” she said simply once she was convinced you weren't about to burst in to tears, holding the door open for you and wishing you a good evening as she wandered off back towards the seating area beyond the dancefloor.
You watched her as she made her way back through the crowd, drawing admiring glances from more or less anyone who noticed her. She didn’t have to be kind to you, but if she hadn’t the likelihood that you would have spent the rest of the night in the bathroom hiding from Hoseok was fairly high.
You took a deep breath and began to walk back to where you had left Jenny and the boys, your eyes flicking over in the direction of the booth where the pretty girl had just retaken her seat to offer her a grateful smile or wave or something, stopping in your tracks as you saw the face of the man who wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned towards her.
No. It couldn’t be, could it? Why was that nice girl from the bathroom suddenly engaged in a passionate kiss with your ex? You felt your eyes widen and jaw drop as you stood motionless in shock for what was probably seconds but felt like hours. Right, you definitely shouldn’t have come out tonight. Still unsure of what to do with the newfound knowledge that your ex had apparently moved on unfairly rapidly, you felt panic begin to set in as you spotted one of his friends recognise you as you stared at their table, reaching over to tap him as his eyes remained trained on your location.
You turned on the spot so your back was to them, looking around for an escape route and finding your only viable course of action was to retreat back in to the ladies room, halting once more as you realised the entrance was blocked by a large group of girls trying to carry their almost impressively inebriated friend back in to the club.
You pivoted again, the feeling of dread increasing as your ex started to look around in your direction. You really didn’t want him to see you right now. You had no desire to get back together with him, but you would have really preferred to maintain some semblance of dignity and unfortunately in your present state that didn’t really seem like a viable possibility.
“Y/N?”
The voice sounded concerned yet far away, your ears buzzing with a combination of the loud music and the fear of losing face in such an embarrassing way.
“Y/N, what happened? Are you alright?”
Just as you were sure you were about to make eye contact with your ex-boyfriend for the first time in three weeks, Hoseok suddenly appeared in front of you, placing his hands gently on your shoulders and blocking you from being able to see the booth where he was sitting.
You arrived back in reality just in time to see him follow your line of sight to see the cause of your temporary near-catatonic state, and you saw comprehension cross his features as he tightened his grip on you and steered you back to lean you against the wall, using his frame to shield you from the eyes of your ex and everyone else in the room.
“Just look at me, okay?” His voice was barely audible above the pounding of the music, but you could just about hear the pleading in it. “You’ll be okay, y/n, I promise.”
You were stunned in to silence for so many reasons, and you felt overwhelmed by the plethora of emotions that were coursing through you at that moment even as your vision was completely taken up by Hoseok’s chest at your eye level.
You struggled to wrap your head around a number of thoughts at once. Firstly, your ex was here and with a beautiful girl he was evidently comfortable enough with to have been with her a while. Given that you only broke up less than a month ago, he either moved on incredibly quickly and without much trouble, or he had been seeing her a heck of a lot longer than that. Secondly, you weren’t entirely sure you could blame him for his decision given how beautiful and likable his new love interest seemed to be, especially when compared to what an absolute hot mess you were at that moment.
Just as your mortification at the situation threatened to cause you to run screaming from the club, your thoughts were then pulled in to an entirely different direction as Hoseok stroked his hands calmingly down your arms and you were reminded why you had ran off to the ladies room in the first place. You were all of a sudden incapable of thinking about anything other than the man standing in front of you whose thumbs were stroking soothing patterns in to the bare skin of your upper arms.
His closeness overtook your senses completely, and your heart pounded in your chest as you lifted your eyes to find him staring at the floor between your feet.
“Please, just look at me,” he repeated softly, although it seemed as though he was speaking to himself.
“Hoseok,” you said simply, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet yours.
The heat in his gaze was so fierce you found you were unable look directly at it for too long, choosing instead to focus on his mouth, until realising that was also a mistake as he licked his lips unconsciously, leaving them slightly parted as he continued to stare down at you.
An unseen force suddenly thrust him closer to you, and you assumed a member of the mostly drunk throng had bumped in to him, causing him to brace his weight on his hands on the wall either side of you. Your hands reflexively flew up in front of you to press against his chest, and you felt the firm muscle there shift beneath your fingertips and his heart beating almost in time with your pulse which was pounding rapidly and restlessly in your ears.
Any thoughts of your ex vanished as quickly as he had appeared that night as you realised just how close Hoseok’s lips were to your own, and you tilted your face up towards his almost involuntarily. All it would take was the smallest dip of his head...
“Oh what a surprise,” a voice cut sarcastically through the moment. “Just a friend is he, y/n?”
You both turned towards the voice to find your ex standing next to you, his face a mixture of disdain and triumph at his perceived discovery.
Hoseok moved to place an arm protectively around your shoulder, raising the other out in front of him in a halting motion towards the upset looking man. “Just go back to your table, it doesn’t concern you any more.”
He knocked Hoseok’s hand away and snorted derisively. “Like hell it doesn’t, I always knew there was something up with your friendship,” he made quotation marks with his fingers at the word. “I always saw you checking her out when you thought no one was looking.”
You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “Seriously, as if he would – ”
“So what if I did?” Hoseok retorted defiantly, cutting you off.
Wait, what?
“I never acted on it, did I? She was your girlfriend. You’re the one that broke it off, so stop blaming other people for your actions, it’s childish.”
You stood, your mouth agape, staring at Hoseok. Had he just admitted to liking you? Since when? Did everybody but you know about it?
The girl from the bathroom suddenly appeared behind them, blatantly confused, yet still smiling in greeting. “Hi again,” she directed at you, causing your ex to stop glaring at Hoseok and turn his attention to you returning her smile. “What’s going on babe? Are you okay?”
He at least had the decency to look sheepish at her question, and he opened his mouth to speak, although no sound followed the motion.
You stepped in, for her benefit rather than for his or your own, it was fairly evident she had no idea of your previous ties to her now-boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry. I thought he was someone else,” you said simply, wrapping your arm around Hoseok’s narrow waist and looking up at him. “Are you ready to go sweetie?”
He blinked down at you, confusion etching his face before he spoke. “Uh...sure,” he finally managed, allowing himself to be pulled towards the exit with only the slightest encouragement from you.
The two of you waved to a very confused looking Jenny and Jin in the middle distance, your arms still curled around one another, and Jenny made a phone shape with one hand and mouthed ‘call me’ at you excitedly.
You had relinquished your hold on one another bashfully as soon as you had exited the venue, and after ten minutes or so of walking towards your house in near silence and barely being able to look at one another, Hoseok spoke first.
“Are you alright? Seems like you’ve had a pretty eventful evening out, considering it was your first one for a while,” he smiled down at you warmly, nudging you jocularly with his elbow.
You laughed humorlessly in response, but did not answer. Your mind had been mulling over what your ex had said about Hoseok checking you out while you were still in a relationship with him, and you were still struggling to get your head around Hoseok’s admission to it. Still, people made false confessions all the time, right? He was probably just doing it to spare you any more embarrassment.
Undeterred by your lack of response, he spoke again. This time his tone was more measured and subdued, and he slowed his pace and softly took hold of your wrist. “Why did you let him off the hook like that?”
You allowed him to pull you to a stop and face him, puzzled by the forlorn expression on his face. “What do you mean?”
He released your wrist from his grip and ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I mean with that girl before. It’s pretty obvious that he’s been seeing her for a while, why didn’t you say something? Why were you protecting him?”
You were surprised by how peturbed he seemed to be by it, and you tried without much success to work out a logical explanation as to why he seemed to be so angry at your ex on your behalf. “I wasn’t protecting him,” you began, “I was protecting her.”
His eyebrows knitted together at your response and he pouted his lips together, his face the very image of confused.
“She was sweet to me when I was upset in the bathroom,” you continued to explain. “It’s not her fault that he apparently screwed me over, why should she suffer for it? Hopefully he’ll be more honest with her than he was with me.”
Hoseok narrowed his eyes at your answer, looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. He stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around you drawing you in to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“You are the most amazing person I have ever met,” he mumbled in to your hair, squeezing around you tightly for a few seconds before releasing you, causing you to stumble backwards a little, both at the sudden action and the sincerity of his words.
You continued walking again, this time in a much more companionable silence.
“Why were you upset?” He asked once you finally reached the small gate at the front of your house, and then as if he had only just remembered, “why did you run off?”
You quickly diverted your gaze to your feet, unable to maintain eye contact as you recalled being entranced by the tireless moving of his hips and the muscles of his thighs shifting beneath his torn jeans, and you felt your face heat up as the same tingling sensation that had had you running scared earlier that night began to take up residence in the pit of your stomach once more.
“I, um...I just...”
You had no idea what you should say to explain your swift exit an hour or so ago, you weren’t exactly adept at thinking on your feet, and you chewed on your lip as you attempted to formulate a feasible answer.
So intent were you on trying to think of an excuse, that you didn’t notice Hoseok taking a step towards you and closing the distance between you again until he lifted your chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“Did Jin tell you how I felt about you?” He asked lowly, breathing deeply after the question, his eyes searching yours for your reaction.
“How do you feel about me?” You responded, your voice barely more than a whisper as you tilted your face closer to his.
He dipped his head lower, slowly but surely decreasing the distance between you. He sighed as he felt your hands travel up his arms, settling at his biceps, his mouth no more than three centimetres away from yours. “Have I not been obvious enough?”
“Show me,” you pleaded breathlessly, a split-second before he pressed his lips hungrily to yours.
The force of the kiss would have sent you careening backwards had Hoseok not splayed his hand against the small of your back and held you flush against him, his lips working in perfect sync with yours, his mouth swallowing the soft whimpers that left you at the intensity of the sensations he was pulling from you.
He shifted his free hand and lifted it to caress your face as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and licking gently at yours to encourage you to do the same. You eagerly complied and sagged further in to his arms as you felt his tongue stroke in to your mouth, and you heard him groan as you pressed your body impossibly tighter against his.
Finally – reluctantly – Hoseok broke the kiss, keeping a firm hold on you until you seemed more able to steady yourself. He smiled his heart-shaped grin at you, and – true to form – you were utterly incapable of resisting returning the expression.
“Does that answer your question?” he asked, laughter bubbling just beneath his voice.
“I should say so,” you answered, touching your fingers to your lips as though checking you hadn’t imagined what had just transpired.
You felt conflicted. Despite the fact that you had just shared easily the most passionate kiss of your entire life with him, the fact remained that Hoseok was first and foremost your friend, and you began to worry that he may be confusing his affection for you as a result of his recent break up. You were terrified of jeopardising your friendship when you were both only so very recently single. “Hoseok, I –”
He lifted his finger to your lips to stop you, allowing himself just one moment to stroke the pad of his index finger against the softness of your bottom lip. “I know things are a little bit up in the air at the moment, I know you just broke up with your boyfriend, but you should know how much I care about you. I have from the second I met you.”
You felt your pulse race and your eyes prick hot with tears at his confession, wanting so desperately for the situation to be so much simpler than it was. “You’ve only just broken up with Mieka too, Hobi.”
He smiled at the nickname, and shook his head, knowing that you assumed he would need time to get over her. “Y/N, I broke up with Mieka the second I heard you were single, it wouldn’t have been fair to stay with her after I found out, even if I never got the chance to tell you how I felt. How I feel,” he corrected himself. “I certainly never thought I’d get to kiss you. Now that I have...” He shook his head as he tried to work out how to articulate what he wanted to say. He sighed again. “I have waited a really long time for you, y/n. I can wait a little longer.”
You stood in complete shock as you took in his words. He had been waiting for you? Your head spun as you imagined a relationship with him, how happy he would make you, how much time you would spend laughing with him, how he would take care of you, and your heart swelled at the thought.
He hugged you to him tightly once more before kissing your forehead lightly and relinquishing his hold on you. He nodded towards your front door to prompt you to go inside, smiling happily as he began to walk backwards away from you. “As long as it takes.”
#bts#bts fluff#bts scenarios#bts imagines#jhope#jung hoseok#hoseok smut#hoseok fluff#hoseok angst#jhope fanfic#bts fanfic#hobi
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[ENG] Mukanshu Main Story 2: Kunlun Mountains
Mukanshu （夢間集）Main Story 2: Kunlun Mountains, Scenes 1 - 10.
Currently up: Scenes 1-7
Read below ↓
*Currently being updated. I’ll post the scenes as I get through them.
Scene 1: Echoes in the Snowy Mountain
The endless chain of mountains stretched out before us; the space between heaven and earth filled with fog, enveloping us.
A creeping sense of uneasiness fell over me as we sat together in the snow.
Toryuu: This place seems like a good place to duke it out. How about it, Iten, wanna have a round?
Iten: A world of ice and snow… it certainly seems like a good place to die, doesn’t it? If that were the case, you might as well be buried here and cool down for a while.
Ryoku: Hey now, we’re comrades aren’t we, let’s try and get along!?
Player: You two are pretty close, aren’t you?
Kinrei: Are you enjoying yourselves? If you find this fun, your really are pathetic.
Ryoku: P-pathetic?!
Ryoku: Hey, hey! Geez, if fighting is so fun, why not save it for the monsters.
Right then, a monster suddenly appeared and attacked.
Kinrei: Hmph. Speak of the devil, was it?
Ryoku: That seems to be the case, huh!
Scene 2: Sudden Avalanche
Ryoku: Anyway, what’s that rumbling sound just now?
Iten: Probably an avalanche.
Ryoku: How can you say that so calmly!
Toryuu: SHUT UP AND RUN!
Scene 3: Wildfire of Holy Flames
The deafening roar of the avalanche encroached upon us as we continued to run.
Toryuu: (panting) hey, hurry up!
Player: (panting)... I can’t run anymore....hurry, Ryoku....
Ryoku: (panting) n...no more, I’ll just let the snow bury me....
Kinrei: (panting) If that’s how you choose to die, then I won’t stop you.
Suddenly, a large chunk of snow came crashing down, burying us beneath it.
Iten: …………
Toryuu: …………
Player: …………
Kinrei: …………
Kinrei: Ryoku… do you know the meaning of the words “be careful what you wish for?”(1)
Ryoku: Everyone...I’m...I’m sorry!
Player: But how could an avalanche occur in the Kunlun mountains...
Iten: It’s most likely the work of those monsters.
Kinrei: As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter where I am… Even the ancient tomb was fine…Now that the danger has passed, I’m getting out of here. Pardon me as I take my leave first.
???: Without realizing it, within the heavy snowfall of Mount Kunlun, a barrier has sealed us inside. Entering is easy, but leaving is far more difficult-- not to mention its teeming with monsters.
Toryuu: Seika? Is that you?
Seika: Well if it isn’t little Toryuu (2)! Why don’t we reminisce a bit on old times.
Toryuu: Don’t call me that…
Seika: Ah, little Toryuu, is that any way to speak to your savior? I carried you on my back when you were badly hurt; you were so much cuter back then when you couldn’t move around.
Toryuu: Call me “little Toryuu” one more time and I’ll kill you!
Iten: A fish large enough to swallow a whole boat shall not venture into small streams; an eagle does not catch flies.
Kinrei: …(laughs quietly).
Ryoku: Huh? Iten-san, I didn’t understand a word of what you just said.
Toryuu: What he said doesn’t matter, just ignore him.
Monsters: Grrrrrrrooooooooowl!
Kinrei: More importantly, we should take care of those first.
(1)The original idiom here means “the mouth is the root of misfortune”, meaning to be careful of what you say or you might jinx yourself.
(2) “ Little Toryuu”: Seika attaches the diminutive 坊や (little boy/my boy/ kid) to the end of Toryuu’s name. I was gonna go with “Toryuu, my boy” but it sounded clunky.
(3) Both are proverbs meaning roughly the same thing:an important person shouldn’t waste their time on trivial people or insignificant matters. He’a making fun of Toryuu for getting riled up by Seika’s teasing
Scene 4: Way of Light
Iten: So apparently Kunlun Mountain is sealed within a barrier, avalanches are happening, and monsters are running rampant...
Ryoku: Isn’t this just like what was happening back on Ice and Fire Island?
Iten: Just as I thought, we’ll have to destroy the monster’s leader in order to destroy the barrier.
Player: But where exactly is this monster’s leader?
Iten: Where in the Kunlun Mountains is the area with the highest spiritual energy?
Seika: Of course that would have to be at the highest point, Kunlun’s Summit.
Kinrei: On Fire and Ice Island, the monster’s leader there also resided in the area with the strongest spiritual energy. I suspect it must be the same case here.
Toryuu: Kunlun Mountain is pretty much like Seika’s backyard! First thing tomorrow, we’ll have Seika show us the way to the summit.
Scene 5: Whispers in the Moonless Night
I find myself alone, running down a narrow path in the Tomb of Swords. The endless darkness stretches toward infinity.
Player: (Panting)
I have to keep running! I feel as if my lungs are being torn apart,but I mustn’t stop...
If I stop for even a moment, I’ll be caught. Then, that person’s wish won’t be granted.
Player: (panting)
A presence behind me starts to grow larger and larger.
At that moment, I...
Stop mid-step and turn around.
Keep running forward with all my strength.
>Choose stop mid-step and turn around.
Boundless darkness stretches out before me. My mind becomes sluggish.
Player: Why...I know the Tomb of Swords ...definitely...
I know it…but do I really know?
No, I don’t have time to think about this...
I’ll be swallowed up…
>Choose Keep running forward with all my strength.
Player: Please don’t catch up to me!
Why...does it want...to kill me?
This must be… what? I...do I really know…?
Not good...the pressure intensified...
I’ll be swallowed up...
Player: Aaaaa!!!
I wake up from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat.
Player: To have this sort of dream....Ah, it’s daytime...
Ryoku seems to have noticed me and comes over.
Ryoku: Are you ok?
Player: Sorry if you were resting...
Ryoku: Ah, it’s fine! I couldn’t sleep either.
I look around and our group seems to be short one member…? Kinrei isn’t around.
Player: Where did Kinrei go…?
I stand up in surprise.
Ryoku: Where are you going?
Player: For Kinrei to not be around at this time...I’m going to have a look around for a bit.
Ryoku: You’re gonna search for Kinrei? I’ll help you out.It’ll be more efficient if both of us search.
Player: Yeah.
Ryoku and I split up and began searching for Kinrei.
Even after searching for some distance from the campsite, Kinrei is nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, sounds arise nearby.
Shadowy Figure 1: You’ve observed those guys for quite some time. Have you noticed something? That one...what happened to him?
Shadowy Figure 2:I still haven’t detected it...
Shadowy Figure 1: No change? No, this is definitely the one we’ve been searching for. It appears that the stimulus is still insufficient so far.
I try to get closer, but the shadowy figures disappear.
Player: That’s strange...I could have sworn I heard talking around here...was it an illusion?
Ryoku: Did you find Kinrei?
I look back in surprise and find that Ryoku is behind me.
Player: No, not yet...
Ryoku: We’ve been searching around for a pretty long time now, it’s possible he already went back to the camp. Let’s head back now.
At that moment, I spot Kinrei in the distance. I start to head towards him.
Kinrei: What are you doing?
Player: We came to look for you, where did you go?
Ryoku: We were all worried.
Kinrei: Why were you looking for me? Am I suddenly a lost child or something?
Right then, the cry of a monster came from the direction of the campsite.
Ryoku: Monsters! Let’s hurry back!
We rush to the campsite. Iten and Toryuu have already taken down a number of monsters.
Toryuu: Let’s take care of the rest of these! Follow me!
Scene 6: Kunlun’s Peak
The next day, with Seika leading the way, we ascended to Kunlun Mountain’s Guangming Peak.
Kinrei: As expected, the monster’s malicious energy is concentrated up here.
Iten: Mn, it’s as I thought. The monster’s king must be hiding around here somewhere.
Toryuu: Hiding? You think that thing can hide from us? In this world we can’t miss a chance to kill that unknown monster.
???:Ya damn brats don’t know your place! Don’t get in the way of me and my prey!
Suddenly, a man I had never seen before appeared before us.
Toryuu: Ahaha! To say something like that, aren’t you the one who doesn’t know your place?
???: Hmph! To go against me, the great sword Seikou--You think ya got the skills to back up all that talk?
Scene 7: Azure Light(1)
Seikou: Hmph, so you’ve got some skill… but in the end it’s only this level.
Toryuu: Still not satisfied? Then bring it on!
Iten: Stop wasting your energy on this!
Ryoku: That’s right. Our real enemy is the Monster King, right?
Seikou: The Monster King, huh? Hmph, I already settled my score with that guy. You guys can have it if ya want. But just know that I’m gonna remember today.
(1)Seikou’s name literally translates to “azure light”, a moniker for tempered steel.
Scene 8: Return of the Cursed Mirror
Scene 9: Animal Eared Boy
Scene 10: Blue Memories
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Reylo Week 2018 day 2: Dark
Born in the Dark
Being the hero of the Resistance is kind of nice, at first. She’s gone from being a nobody in a junkyard, to a girl with an amazing power, to the saviour of the rebellion. The attention is enough to make her giddy.
After so many years of being thought of as no better than the garbage she scavenged through she can hardly be blamed for revelling in the admiration of so many. People like her. People know who she is without her introducing herself. For the first time in Rey’s life she feels valued.
Then it starts to go sour.
It’s not a lot at first. Just the odd remark from a resistance fighter, pointed comments about her abilities and training.
A pilot serving under Poe makes a comment at a strategy meeting about not needing to be absolutely accurate with their weapons because “the Jedi can just direct them with the Force right?”
It’s an offhand remark, meant as a joke. A ripple of laughter goes through the room and Rey is shocked by how badly she wants to snap at the man.
She’s been training relentlessly. Pushing her body until even Finn, who seems to have near boundless faith in her, tells her to take it easy.
“You’re only human, Rey. Don’t hurt yourself.”
But it’s hard to accept you’re only human when everyone is acting like you’re more than that. The admiration and awe she once relished in becomes suffocating. People she’s never met talk like they know her, and the rumours she’s heard about herself range from funny to downright creepy.
And if one more person demands to see “the levitating trick” she’s going to strangle them with her bare hands.
There’s thousands of years of Jedi history that she barely knows anything about, and she feels like every single one of them is pressing down on her. Every time she reaches out to connect to the Force the once exhilarating rush of energy feels like an electric current zipping under her skin. As her powers grow it’s getting harder and harder to keep them under control.
Is this how Ben felt? She wonders, taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, visualising the excess energy being expelled with her breath. It doesn’t work. Did he feel like a vessel full to the brim with power with no room for anything else? Did the hopes of others crush him too?
Rey bites her tongue again and again until it is raw. She gets good at giving vague answers and dodging questions. But she has to snap some time and as it turns out that time is in another strategy meeting. With all the commanding officers present. Of course.
Another pilot (not the same one that made the crack about aiming, thank the Force), comes forward with a brilliant propaganda proposal.
“We should make some holos of Rey doing the Jedi thing.”
“I’m sorry?!” Rey looks across the room at the pilot in question, certain she misheard her. “The Jedi thing?”
“You know, propaganda. Something to subtly disseminate on the holonet to give the people hope. A little speech, a little footage of you floating things or practicing with your lightsaber. Did you finish fixing it yet?”
Rey has in fact not finished “fixing” the lightsaber. Luke’s old saber was destroyed beyond repair, the best she could hope for was to take the salvageable components and make a new one. Which she has been attempting to do. With limited success.
“It’s a very complex piece of equipment with many delicate components-“
“Well tell us what you need so we can get it for you.” The pilot interrupts. “And then we can get on with making these holos.”
“Excuse me?” Rey can feel her ire growing, that unpleasant electrical tingling under her skin again. “I haven’t agreed to do this yet. I’m not some performing monkey-lizard you can wheel out to do tricks when you feel like it. I don’t want to be put on display!” She glances around the room, expecting to see at least some people nodding in agreement. To her dismay most are looking uncomfortable, a few actively annoyed. Even Finn is looking conflicted.
“No-one is expecting you to do ‘tricks’, Rey.” It’s Poe who finally breaks the tense silence, his smooth voice filling the room. “But I do have to agree that footage of the last Jedi proving her skill would be an incredible boon for us. A speech could be good too, it could really bolster morale and bring people to the cause.”
“I can’t write speeches.” She’s starting to sound petulant now, but she doesn’t care. It’s not even that big a deal, it’s just the way everyone keeps on assuming she’ll step to and serve rather than make decisions for herself. Like she’s not even a person, just a weapon.
“We can write it for you, it’s fine.” Poe smiles and waves dismissively. “At least think about it.” He sounds so kriffing reasonable she just wants to punch him in the mouth.
“I don’t need to think about it. I have thought about it. I don’t want to do it.” The tingling under her skin is intensifying. She clenches her fists until she can feel her racing pulse throbbing in her fingertips.
“Rey, you know we all have to do our part to help the Resistance, you signed up for that when you joined us.” Poe’s voice has a hard edge now. Ever since Vice Admiral Holdo sacrificed herself Poe has taken pains to behave more like a leader and less like a reckless flyboy, but he still has a streak of “anything for the cause” running through him that disturbs Rey immensely.
“I signed up to fight the enemy, not perform for your amusement!” The electric tingling is thrumming under her skin now, still painful but now also oddly invigorating. It feels like…
It feels like the throne room.
“Both of you, that’s enough.” General Organa silences the room without even leaving her chair. Rey’s righteous anger curdles and the electricity under her skin fizzles out under those solemn brown eyes. She feels very young, and very out of her depth.
“I…” There’s an air of uneasiness around the room, and Rey suddenly feels the need to escape. “I don’t think you need me for the rest of this meeting.” Finn makes a move to follow her as she briskly exits the room, but Leia puts a hand on his arm.
“Leave her be for a moment.”
It’s much later that Leia comes to Rey’s quarters. Having a room to herself is one of the few perks of people constantly treating her like some kind of superhuman. Apparently she needs the privacy so she can concentrate on her training, and Rey is more than happy to take the solitude. She discovered when they were fleeing on the Falcon that she couldn’t sleep well when surrounded by other people, her brain unable to stop listening for signs of danger even though logically she knew she was safe.
“Rey, I just wanted to check up on how you were doing.”
Rey is perched at the head of the bed, her arms wrapped around her legs. “Fine. I’ve been translating the texts and working on fixing the saber-“
“No, dear. I asked how you were doing, not your training.”
“…Fine”
“Mhmmm. Ben used to say that too.”
Rey’s eyes snap up. They haven’t spoken of Ben yet. They’ve carefully skirted the subject. Leia sits down heavily on the end of the bed. She walks with a cane now, and rests both hands on top of it as she gazes off into the middle distance and takes a deep breath, her next words taking effort.
“When he was younger, before he learned how to control his power, he used to have these terrible tantrums. He’d yell and lash out with his power. He’d break things. Once he accidentally shorted out a housekeeping droid with the Force, without even laying a finger on it.”
Leia’s eyes are bright as she remembers her poor disturbed son.
“I asked him once why he did it. He said to me ‘Mama, there’s too much. There’s too much inside me. I can’t stop it.’ I realised later – far too late, really – that it was Snoke's influence but at the time I just thought it was Vader's legacy come back to haunt us. Force help me I thought I was doing the right thing. I should have sent him off to Luke to receive training sooner so he could have learned how to shield himself, but I didn’t want to lose my boy. Then I lost him anyway…”
A tear runs down Leia’s cheek, and Rey feels the strongest urge to hug her.
“As he got older, he realised that it wasn’t normal. That none of his playmates had to worry about accidentally hurting someone if they let their tempers get out of control. He wanted so badly to get rid of his abilities. He begged me once to make Uncle Luke take the Force away from him, that he’d be good if his powers were gone. I had to explain that it wasn’t possible. He started closing himself off to me more and more after that. He got angrier, quieter. And whenever I asked him about his outbursts he’d just say ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’”
Leia turns bright eyes, filled with more years of pain than Rey has been alive, towards her. “So please understand me when I say, Rey, that I never, ever want you to say you’re fine when you’re not. Please. I am literally begging you. You can scream at me, curse me out, say anything you like. Just please don’t lie and say you’re fine.”
Feeling her face crumple, Rey drops her head. Hot tears leak from her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Come here sweetheart.” Leia gathers Rey up in her arms. “I’m not scolding you. I want to help you.” Leia is warm and smells of perfume and makeup, the soft fabric of her dress tickles Rey’s nose. She releases a deep breath, finally feeling calm for the first time since the meeting.
“I’m sorry I was so stupid at the meeting. I just…can’t stand the idea of being on display for people. I mean seriously kriffing propaganda holos? Some stupid, tacky, overblown holo?”
“Yes, I never much cared for doing them myself.” Leia’s voice is dry with just a hint of amusement.
Rey bites her lip to smother a groan. Of course General (former Princess) Leia Organa had done propaganda holos throughout her political career. Some had even made it to Jakku. Rey had seen them, liked them. Leia’s poise and determination had seized her attention with both hands, her confident words utterly enrapturing a young Rey.
“I’m sor-“
“If you apologise one more time I really will be angry.”
“Sor- uh. Ok.”
“You don’t have to apologise. You have a right to feel how you do. And to a certain extent I agree with you. I made holos because I was raised in politics, my weapons were my words. But that’s not for you Rey. You fight in a different way. And I’m afraid, “She sighs with mock resignation. “You will never be a diplomat. You’re far too blunt.”
Rey laughs in spite of herself. There’s a comfortable pause, the two women sitting side by side with their arms about each-others waists.
“But what Poe was saying, about me showing my abilities. That would help, wouldn’t it?”
Leia weighs her words carefully. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it.”
“But the resistance needs all the help it can get.”
“True. And that still doesn’t mean you have to do it.” Leia looks at her steadily. “Listen, Rey, no matter what the stakes you always have a choice. Don’t let anyone push you into doing something you don’t want to do.”
“He was acting like I owe the resistance something.” Rey mutters, and Leia nods thoughtfully.
“Poe means well but…how do I put this…sometimes he gets too caught up in the cause and forgets the consequences. When you’ve been fighting for so long with so little and you’re presented with someone with a skill that can help you, you cling to it. You feel entitled to it, even. You focus so much on the skill that you – and I mean this is the nicest possible way – can sometimes forget about the person in possession of it. He pushes you because he thinks he’s in the right and people…” Leia’s hands clench the top of her cane, her mouth set in a thin line. “People sometimes do terrible things when they think they are in the right. More atrocities have been committed in the name of the ‘greater good’ than anything else the whole galaxy over.”
Rey shifts on the bed, her next words coming out as a whisper.
“Everybody acts like I’m some kind of saviour. Like I’m going to singlehandedly save the Resistance. I can’t possibly live up to that, it’s too much.” Rey can’t quite meet Leia’s eyes as she says it. It feels taboo to even be mentioning this. As though voicing the words out loud will doom her and by extension the resistance.
“I think you sell yourself short, but no-one expects you to do this alone. We’re all here to help you, however we can.” Leia’s voice is strong and warm and Rey feels more confident than she has in a long time.
She thinks for a moment and remembers the saber.
“I could do with a couple of harmonic energizer conductive plates.” Leia blinks.
“You may need to write that down for me.” They both laugh, and Rey looks at Leia’s worn but still beautiful face, committing this moment to memory.
“Just tell Rose, she’ll know what I mean.”
****
Admirers Rey has in abundance. Friends, less so, although she certainly seems to have a lot of people who think they're her friend. She considers Finn her closest confidante. She had adored Rose instantly when she woke in the Falcon with a concussion and introduced herself with the words;
“So you’re Rey. So glad to meet you. You can take care of this idiot” she gestured to Finn “while I’m out of action.”
BB8 is adorable, although Rey is still not entirely sure where she stands with his master. Poe Dameron is the most effortlessly charming man she has ever met and for some reason it grates on her immensely. One moment she’ll be confident that they can get along just fine, the next he’ll say something to annoy her. He doesn’t mean to, something about him just gets Rey’s back up for some reason. Perhaps the fact that he keeps on ‘subtly’ mentioning that he’s the best pilot in the resistance at every opportunity.
She feels close to Leia, although she’s not sure she’d class it as friendship. She thinks it might be what having a mother is like. It’s nice.
Chewbacca is sort of a friend but he’s gone back to Kashyyyk. Something about a life debt being fulfilled and missing his family.
Happiness, Rey thinks, should be grasped at whenever possible. She can feel the future looming like a dark storm cloud on the horizon and gathers up every little scrap of light she can to fight against it.
Which is why her, Rose and Finn are currently sitting in the mess hall chatting about anything and everything.
Finn is still finding out who he is without the First Order watching his every move, and the more confident he becomes the more Rey truly believes he will go on to do great things. He’s honourable and determined, and Leia herself has mentioned to Rey that she’s seriously considering putting him forward for a position in high command.
Rose is possibly the kindest person Rey has ever met, and she find the woman wonderfully easy to talk to. She also has never placed the Jedi on a pedestal, which Rey appreciates. Rey asks her about it once only to receive a vague reply about having learned her lesson.
They’re both wonderful people that she loves spending time with. Usually. But right now they’ve somehow gotten on to the subject of how they met (a story that Rey had heard at least half a dozen times now) and they’re getting this ooey-gooey look in their eyes as they look at each other that has Rey looking to the door longingly. They’re a cute couple but seeing them fawn over each other like this makes Rey feel awkward.
“I mean what would you have done, Rey?” Rose asks.
“Huh?” Rey’s attention is jerked back to the nauseating couple. She hadn’t been listening at all.
“We were talking about that time I kinda nearly flew into a cannon.” Finn says sheepishly.
Oh stars, they’re talking about Rose kissing Finn after saving his life. Rey had thought it was terribly romantic the first time she had been told about it, although she also told Finn in no uncertain terms that he had bolts for brains for even considering sacrificing himself.
“Yeah Rey, what would you have done if the person you liked was clueless that you liked them?” Rose is beaming guilelessly.
Rey thinks of a throne room with fire raining down around her, dark eyes looking at her pleadingly as everything she ever wanted offered her everything she never asked for. She’d considered it. Just for a moment, but she had considered it.
Apparently I would explode a lightsaber and steal an escape shuttle.
She looks across the table at the two. Finn’s arm is looped around Rose’s waist and Rose’s head is leaned comfortably on Finn’s shoulder. They look so comfortable together, so happy and loving and connected. Jealousy burns in Rey’s gut. She doesn’t want either Rose or Finn, doesn’t think of them that way, but she desperately wants what they have. Rey is shocked by the intensity of the feeling, she’d thought that the crushing loneliness she’d felt on Jakku had been assuaged by the belonging she’d found in the resistance.
The feeling is so visceral that Rey grips the hem of her tunic under the table tightly to stop her hands shaking. She wants to be held like Finn is holding Rose. She wants someone who understands what she means when she talks about her Jedi training. She wants someone who will kiss her and love her and tell her she’s beautiful.
Mercifully a group of people burst into the mess at that moment, talking and laughing loudly. They join the three at their table, talking about whatever banal gossip is currently doing the rounds about the base. Rey tries to join in for a while, but the effort of trying to pretend to care who was caught in a supply closet with who, of trying to keep track of too many raised voices and shrieking laughs grates on her. She gets quieter and quieter, withdrawing into herself, until finally she excuses herself to go to the training room. Only Finn notices her go.
Rey picks up her practice saber and starts moving through her forms. Taking her stance, she closes her eyes breathes deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth. She concentrates on her breath for a moment, letting everything else fall away. When her mind has gone quiet, she releases control of her breath, opening herself up to the Force. The current of power is so strong that Rey feels like she’ll be lost in it, that whoever this “Rey” is will be swept away and the Living Force will take up residence in her body.
She takes another deep breath and pulls herself back, moving within the flow of the Force around her rather than drowning in it. The effort is making sweat bead on her skin and she hasn’t even started moving yet.
Slowly, deliberately, Rey starts going through the moves of her chosen form. Her movements feel stilted, the weapon in her hand clunky as she attempts to move through the complex sequence of turns and spins.
She fumbles her footwork, starts again. And again.
She tries shaking out her limbs in an effort to dispel the growing tingling energy gathering in them.
The fifth time she messes up a particularly complex series of footwork, Rey cries out in frustration and feels a wave of energy pulse out around her. The rack of practice weapons falls over the exact same moment she feels the air around her tighten for a moment, then snap back, all sound going from the room.
This is the last thing she needs right now. She can vaguely see the massive dark shape of Ben out of the corner of her eye, can feel his now-familiar Force signature pressing up against hers. She shouldn’t like how it feels.
They’ve connected a few times since Crait. The bond had not dissolved upon Snoke’s death and their interactions have been cold and largely silent, which is awkward since the bond “sessions” appear to be getting longer and longer as more time goes by. The fire and anger of their first force bond connections has long since gone, the tenderness from that one time they touched a distant memory. There’s just sadness there now.
Ben isn’t talking so Rey isn’t either, moving back to her starting position and going through the form again. Attempting to, at least.
The third time she restarts, Ben finally speaks.
“You are attempting the Juyo form.”
“Yes.” Rey takes another deep breath through her nose and takes her stance.
“The seventh and most complex of the classic lightsaber forms.”
“Yes.” Her teeth are gritted. It’s bad enough that every molecule of her being feels like it’s being pulled towards Ben like he’s a black hole. Now that damn low, calm voice of his is making her treacherous heart flutter in her chest like a caged bird.
“You need complete mastery of the other forms before you should even think about attempting it.”
“You got something to say Ben?” Rey whirls around and instantly regrets it. He’s close enough that she has to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. His dark hair has gotten longer and she actually grips the handle of her practice staff so she doesn’t reach out and touch it.
His intense brown eyes are soft as they gaze into hers, and she’s struck all at once by how much they look like his mother’s.
“Shii-Cho.”
“What?”
“Run through the Shii-Cho.”
“The first form? But I’m trying to do the seventh.”
“Run through the Shii-Cho.” He repeats, patiently.
Rey throws up her hands in resignation and runs through the Shii-Cho.
“Widen your stance and keep your pelvis tucked.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re helping me? Why? You know we’re going to end up fighting again eventually, and I beat you just fine without any training before.” In truth she doesn’t think she could raise a weapon against him if she had to, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You did.” He concedes, looking down at her imperiously. “I was distracted. Next time we meet in battle I will defeat you.” He should have kept the helmet. His expressive face speaks to the lie and Rey knows she’s got about as much to fear from him as he does from her. But she can’t quite resist needling him a little.
“How do I know you’re giving me good information?”
Ben purses his lips and moves his jaw, something Rey recognises as a nervous tic of his.
“Close your eyes.”
“Excuse you?” Rey has to bite her lip to stop a smile spreading as Ben rolls his eyes and gives a gusty sigh.
“I’m not going to harm you. Just close your eyes and reach inwards with the Force.”
With a final doubtful look, Rey does as he says.
“Feel the energy of the Force moving through you. Feel how it flows through your body, your veins, your muscles. Take your stance, as you were before.” Rey does as he says. “Can you feel how the Force moves through you unevenly?” She can, actually. Eyebrows furrowed Rey feels the Force within herself stilted where it should be flowing, completely blocked in places. She’d spent all this time connecting with the Force around her, how had she missed this within herself? “Now, make the adjustments I told you.”
She does, and feels an instant improvement. The Force flows through her effortlessly. Her moves have more weight in them, her footwork is more stable.
“Now the Makashi.”
She moves through the second form.
“You’re overcommitting to your lunges. You throw your whole weight forward, it makes your recovery slower and more laboured, and leaves you open to attack. Look.” He easily takes his stance next to her. “When you lunge, your knee should stay over your foot, never beyond. When you recover, push off with your front foot. Don’t let your upper body collapse, or you’ll end up dropping your guard.”
She does, making sure to look within herself as she does so, and again can feel the improvement. Her attacks and recoveries are quicker, more fluid.
They run through all the forms this way, the Soresu, the Ataru, the Shien, the Niman. This is what she wanted with Luke, constructive advice on how to improve her abilities and Rey grudgingly admits to herself that Ben is actually a fantastic teacher. He is concise, encouraging, and the only time he loses his temper with her is when she doubts her own abilities.
By the time they reach the Juyo Rey is sweating and her muscles are aching but she’s desperate to keep going. For months now she’s felt like she’s been barely grasping at the edges of understanding this legacy she’s inherited and she’s finally making some headway.
“Did you know that there is a variation on the Juyo called the Vaapad?” Ben asks, as casually as if they were discussing the weather.
It’s a little surreal, to be standing there chatting with the Supreme Leader of the First Order as though their rival factions are not trying to annihilate each other. Even more surreal is how nice it feels. The lesson itself has been downright pleasant. They both feel it across the force bond, the undeniable sense of rightness when they work together.
“Kind of like how the Djem So is a variation on the Shien?”
“Precisely.” He smiles crookedly and Rey’s heart pounds. He’s a different man when he’s not overwhelmed by his dark nature, and Rey longingly thinks what kind of man he could have been if Snoke had never got his claws into him. “It’s a fascinating variation, because it’s honestly the least Jedi-like of all the forms.”
“How is it not Jedi-like?”
“The Vaapad requires the practitioner to embrace their rage and anger and channel it into the fight. They must enjoy combat, allowing their darker emotions to flow through them and give them power.” Ben’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. It’s endearing to see him talking about something he’s passionate about, but the subject matter unsettles Rey.
“It’s a Dark Side technique then.”
“No, it was actually developed by Mace Windu. A master of great renown who sat on the Jedi council for many years and was considered an outstanding example of the power of the Light Side.”
“Well if he was such a great Light Sider why did he develop such a Dark Side technique?”
“He recognised that there was power in the Dark Side that could be harnessed for the greater good. What he believed to be the greater good, anyway.” The words send a chill up Rey’s back as she recalls the discussion she had with Leia a few days earlier.
“Well, that’s all very interesting but if we’re done talking…” She moves into starting position for the seventh form but he holds up a hand to stop her.
“Why were you attempting the Juyo? You need to be a master to even begin to grasp it.” The bond has endured an extraordinary length of time and Rey wonders if the Force is trying to get a point across. It wouldn’t be the first time it has apparently interceded between her and Ben.
“What, you don’t think I can handle it?” It’s said with humour but there’s fire lurking underneath Rey’s words.
“You have an immense amount of power. Even without any formal training you’re an incredible fighter. But you can’t skip ahead to the advanced forms until you’ve mastered the basics. You need a teacher.”
The words bring both of them rudely back to reality. For a while Rey had honestly forgotten why they shouldn’t be doing this. They’re both thinking of the same snow-covered planet, the first offer he ever made her and the companionable atmosphere they had starts to dissipate.
“Have you mastered it?” Rey blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, desperate to change the subject.
“The Juyo? No. I am competent with it but I would not say I am a master. It’s an incredibly complex form.”
“Oh.” She feels better for struggling with it now. “How do you know about Mace Windu? I’ve not heard of him in any Jedi legends.”
“He was killed in the Jedi Purge.”
“The mass genocide your Grandfather headed.” Ben’s jaw tightens.
“Yes.”
The sensible thing to do would be to change the subject. But as Leia had said, she’ll never be a diplomat.
“Do you really think all those Jedis deserved to die? Just because your Grandfather wanted power?”
“That’s not why he did it.” Ben’s face darkens and the last vestiges of good feeling between them vanish.
“Oh really? Please explain to me then because I don’t understand.” Rey bites out.
“The Jedi order allowed itself to stagnate, become complacent. They embraced passivity to the point that they ceased to take any action unless absolutely forced to do so. They let corruption to thrive within the senate even when they were given every opportunity to eradicate it. They ceased to care about anything other than maintaining their traditions and in doing so allowed their own doom to creep up on them.” Ben’s voice is full of venom. “If they had merely done their duty so much pain and tragedy could have been avoided.”
“And that’s a good reason for all those thousands of people to die?”
“The true spirit of the Jedi had died long before the purge.”
“They could have fixed it! Vader didn’t have to go so far!”
“The order was rotten to the core, a cancer that needed to be cut out before it spread and killed the host. Do you honestly think that centuries of corruption could be undone just like that?” Ben’s voice has taken on a mocking tone now, and Rey sees red.
“I think there are better ways of resolving conflict than killing people!” She screams the last words, she can’t even remember the last time she was this angry. There’s another snap of power about Rey and in a blink Ben has disappeared. She gazes at the space where he had been, feeling angry and oddly bereft. She already wants him to come back, even though she’s furious with him.
We are the worst enemies.
She spends a long time in the training room trying to calm down, and when she eventually gets back to her quarters Finn is sitting on the floor outside waiting for her. He scrambles into a standing position as soon as he sees her.
“Rey! Hey, I wanted to talk to you but I wasn’t sure where you were.”
“Training.” Rey bites out.
“Sorry about earlier, we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Finn rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Rose pointed out we were maybe being a bit too mushy.”
“You didn’t, I’m fine. It’s no big deal.” She smiles tightly. I just think I maybe have feelings for a dictator that is hellbent on ruling the galaxy and crushing the resistance we both fight for. No big deal.
“Rey,” Finn looks at her seriously. “You would tell me if there was something wrong right? You know I’ll help you however I can.”
“I promise Finn, if there’s anything you can help me with, I’ll let you know.” She smiles, a real smile this time. He’s a good man. Rose is lucky. “I’ve been training for ages I’m just tired.”
“Okay. Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
They hug and Rey goes into her quarters and gets ready for bed. She lies in her hard too-small bed that somehow still feels empty, and tries to think of nothing.
****
The sacred texts that Rey had “liberated” from Ach-To are many things. They’re beautifully written and bound. The creamy thick paper is stitched carefully within the covers, some of tooled leather, some of wood, one feels like it might even be some kind of ivory or bone. The languages vary, and Rey has to translate some with the help of a data pad filled with information on ancient dialects and the occasional assistance from C3PO. They’re certainly packed with information, perhaps too much in some places.
And here lies the biggest problem. The thing the Jedi text are best at is acting as sleep aids. They are terribly dry, overly wordy and often contradicting. Rey realises after a while that each of the texts has been written by a different Jedi, of different skill levels, at vastly different points in history, often with different interpretations of the Force and how best to wield it.
What perplexes Rey most, however, is the fact that the terms 'Jedi' and 'Sith' don't appear at all until about midway through the series of texts. They appear suddenly with no explanation, as though the reader should know what they are. Rey searches for the volume where the terms were introduced, but it is either lost or was never written.
Not one text lines up perfectly with another. The information contained within is valuable, but hidden beneath layers of personal bias and pompous philosophising.
“All things are knowable through the Force.” Declares one.
“The most important thing to know is that you know nothing.” Says another.
“A Jedi must be absolutely pure in heart.” One text declares.
“Only Sith deal in absolutes.” Another condemns.
“A Jedi must walk the path of the light, and never give in to the temptation of the dark side.” One text preaches.
“It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved.” Another states.
It’s been over a week since her fight with Ben, and she badly wants to discuss this with him. She knows that to others it would seem like a bad idea. Certainly the resistance would be horrified if they knew the last Jedi was thinking of sharing ancient Jedi secrets with the Supreme Leader of the First Order. But Rey knows down in her soul that she doesn’t have anything to fear from him. The First Order itself is a different matter.
The text she’s translating right now is the one espousing a knowledge of both light and dark, and with every passage she reads all she can think of is Ben. As far as she can tell the text, the Aionomica, is the oldest in the collection. C3PO had a conniption fit when he saw she was handling it with her bare hands, insisting she wear soft cotton gloves. The language it is written in is long dead, a complex array of blocky characters made up of straight lines, read top to bottom.
“It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved.”
She reads the passage over and over. Next to it is an illustration of a figure similar to the one Rey had seen in the old Jedi temple on Ach-To, a humanoid in basic meditation pose made of white and black, surrounded by interwoven circles likewise rendered in equal parts light and dark.
So how did they go from the earliest Jedis embracing both sides of the Force to Luke commanding her to fight the pull of the Dark Side?
Rey’s getting a headache, the strange symbols starting to blur before her eyes. She pushes the book away and rubs at her temples, sighing heavily.
She needs to talk to someone about this, and there’s only one person in the galaxy who could comprehend what she was thinking of.
Maybe I should try it.
The subject of Force Bonds was spoken of in some detail in another of the texts, the Rammahgon. Rey has obsessively read and re-read the passages, especially the parts that speak of how to control it. She closes her eyes and lets her mind go quiet, focusing on how Ben’s Force signature feels when he is near her. She reaches out with her mind, searching for that same feeling.
Her mind reaches forth, tentatively, and Rey feels cold prickles dance across her skin. Gravity shifts and she feels herself falling backwards, further and further until she should feel her back hit the floor. She keeps falling until there is no longer any up or down. In her mind she sees the planet the resistance is hiding on shrink and fall away, getting smaller and smaller until it becomes nothing more than a point of light amongst a thousand other points of light.
It feels like the mirror cave. She should by all rights be terrified but all she feels is a sense of calm. There is no sound, no feeling of her body in the hard chair of her quarters. She is a thought, a lone mind flying across space, branching out further and further until she begins to lose all sense of self, lose all conscious thought. She is searching for something that is missing from her. She cannot remember what it is exactly, but she will not stop until she finds it, and when she finds it she will rest.
She cannot remember the last time she drew breath. She doesn't need to. Doesn't remember why she needs to.
A hot fizzing energy dances along the edge of her mind. There, there! That's what she's looking for! She rushes towards it desperately, the other half of her.
Her head spins as sound and air and consciousness come rushing back to her. Across from her is a large dark figure perched in the air as though sitting at a desk. He's here!
“Ben!” She smiles and makes to stand up, arms reached out towards him, then falls heavily back down into her chair. Rey frowns, bringing her hands up before her and moving her fingers slightly. Her body feels oddly cold and weak.
She catches sight of the time on her translation datapad. It is three hours later than she remembers it being.
Someone is saying her name, and strong warm hands are gripping her upper arms.
“Rey? Rey! Say something! Are you alright?” Ben is kneeling before her, solid and warm and lovely. She feels a dopey smile spread across her face and leans forward so she can press her face into his chest. She wants to hear his heartbeat. She frowns as Ben's arms hold her away from him. For some reason she can't quite articulate it's very important that she be as close to Ben as possible.
“You're here.” She pushes forward again, hungry for the warmth of his body against hers.
“Rey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” Ben gazes into her eyes, concern etched all over his face.
“No, m'not hurt. “ Rey shakes herself and pulls back from Ben slightly. She's starting to come back to herself now and honestly wishes she wasn't. The simple happiness she had felt on finding Ben is fading away and the usual complex mix of emotions she associates with the man are starting to leak back into her consciousness.
“You seems a little out of sorts. Did you hit your head?” Ben squints at her, getting uncomfortably close. “Are you drunk?”
“No!” Rey shakes his hands off her and misses them immediately. “I just...maybe overdid it a little.”
Ben steps back, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides. He's wearing a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and loose trousers. He's barefoot. It's bizarrely intimate.
“Overdid what, exactly?” His head inclines forward slightly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Have you been attempting the Juyo again?”
“I called you through the force bond. On purpose this time.” Ben blinks in surprise.
“You discovered how to control it?”
“Sort of. The texts give some information about force bonds. And other things. I wanted to talk to you about them actually-”
“Texts?”
“The Sacred Jedi texts. I...borrowed them. From Ach-To.” Ben crosses his arms and Rey tries – and fails – not to notice how nice the muscles in his arms look straining against his shirt.
“You know, it really is a pity you're so invested in the light side, you would have made a wonderful dark side adept.” Ben smirks, head inclined to one side.
“It's a pity you're so invested in the dark side, you would make a wonderful warrior of the light.” Rey snipes back.
“I really wouldn't.”
“There's still so much light in you Ben. I feel it. You can still come back.” Ben's shoulders slump, and he suddenly looks so very tired. Rey forgets that Ben is the best part of a decade older than her sometimes, but he looks every day of it right now.
“I can't. The light side doesn't work like that.” She can feel Ben drawing away from her and Rey steps towards him, chin jutting forward stubbornly.
“Alright, so tell me. How does the light work?” Ben gets a faraway look on his face, gaze trained on the floor.
“Mercilessly. The Jedi expected their followers to be pure of heart and soul, devoid of even the slightest hint of darkness. They had to rid themselves of all emotion. Anger, sorrow, greed...passion.” His eyes flick briefly to hers before settling on the floor again. “It's an impossible standard to hold someone to, demanding they destroy themselves until they are merely empty vessels to be filled up with light. There is no room for mistakes on the light side. No room for weakness.” It's difficult to argue with that. The legends of Jedi knights divorcing themselves from all earthly ties had seemed very noble to Rey, until she had actually considered doing it herself. Then it had seemed horrifying.
“Leia told me once that Vader came back to the light just before he died.”
"And that light weakened him, killed him. One act of light does not undo a lifetime of darkness. Once you are sullied with the dark you can never truly be light again. Luke tried to kill me because he saw the potential for darkness within me, that should tell you all you need to know of the light side.” Even without the bond Rey would be able to see the conflicting emotions swirling within Ben. How he simultaneously craved and reviled the light within himself.
“Luke was wrong.” Rey insists.
“Luke was wrong about many things. He wasn't wrong about me.”
“He was. Snoke used you, you know that? He got inside your head and made you think you were something you're not.”
“Snoke brought my darkness to the surface but it was always there. I couldn't control it. There was too much.”
Rey imagines a little boy with a monster inside his head and wants to go back in time, back to the throne room and tear Snoke apart with her bare hands.
“And how long was Snoke in there? Can you even remember a time he wasn't there, manipulating you? Pushing you towards the dark?” Ben remains silent, and Rey knows she's struck a nerve. “You can't can you? That's not you. I know you Ben, I see the truth of your feelings. You can still fight this.”
“You still think you can save me. I've murdered. I've destroyed. I killed my own Father.” His voice is hoarse. “I had too much darkness to be a Jedi and I have too much light within me to ever be a true Sith. I'm a failure on both counts.” He looks so utterly broken and hopeless that Rey wants to shake him.
“You're right. You would never have been a Jedi. You wouldn't be a Sith either. You're something else.”
“There is nothing else.”
“There is. The earliest text I have speaks of force users finding a balance between the dark and light sides. True balance. Neither Jedi nor Sith, something more. Something better. You could be that. We could be that.” She looks him in the eye begging him internally to understand. “I'm not giving up on you Ben.”
“You should.” Ben looks at her with sad, dark eyes. But for just a moment, Rey swears she sees a flicker of hope.
****
Leia is dying.
No-one wants to say it, but then again no-one really has to. The once dynamic woman is moving slower and slower, leaning first on one then two canes as the days go by. Although her face becomes pale and drawn her bright brown eyes lose none of their sharpness. Attending meetings becomes a monumental effort for her, and more often than not she sends someone in her stead, or takes smaller private meetings with the commanding officers in her quarters.
It seems like the cruellest joke in the galaxy to Rey that the legendary Leia Organa meets her end like this. She seemed immortal, unconquerable, a woman with a soul forged of pure steel and the idea that she's just another mortal who's going to die in this war before peace is restored to the galaxy seems like some kind of terrible mistake.
After the pain of losing Ben in the throne room and Luke on Crait, Rey had an epiphany. She would have to let Ben come back to the light of his own accord. The choice to fall to the dark side had been taken away from Ben. The choice to come back to the light (or somewhere in the middle, as the case may be) would have to be his and his alone.
Rey is good at waiting. She had waited most of her life for her parents to come back, even though she knew deep down in her heart they never would. She knows for a fact that there is still light in Ben, had felt it, seen it.
It had seemed easy at the time. As she felt Luke become one with the Force a wave of calm overtook her. She would put her trust in the Force, she would let what was destined to happen happen, and she would have faith that the light within Ben was strong enough to bring him back to her.
But more and more these days she wonders if that had been a mistake. What if there was more she could have been doing and she has fallen prey to the same folly that was the downfall of the Jedi order, that of inaction. Night after night she wakes in a cold sweat from nightmares of darkness and destruction, of Leia lying dead on a battlefield full of resistance soldiers, of Luke cutting her in half with a lightsaber. She's no longer certain if the nightmares are hers or Ben's. They may very well be both.
She spends long agonising minutes staring in the 'fresher mirror, gazing at her own reflection until it becomes strange to her, pushing down the nameless creeping horror that threatens to overwhelm her. More than once during a strategy meeting she has to hurriedly make her excuses and leave as her heart races within her chest, fighting the urge to scream or run or do something to escape this awful feeling that she still doesn't understand.
The strategy meetings are becoming horribly real now. The First Order has not tried to pursue the resistance since Crait, instead concentrating on rebuilding the fleet that was decimated by Vice Admiral Holdo's sacrifice. The resistance is doing the same, and the process of comparing schematics of warships and x-wings would fascinate Rey if it didn't put a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She's feeling pretty sick now as she stands in her room, although for an entirely different reason. Rose had come to find her in her quarters the day before, and not finding her there had looked in the training, room the mess, the war room and finally the hangar, where she found Rey up to her elbows in grease and machinery.
“Rey! Finally, I thought I'd never find you.” The mechanic puffs slightly, out of breath. “I have a message from Leia. She wanted to talk to you herself but...she had to go rest in her quarters.” Often lately Leia will have sudden attacks of crippling weakness. She'll retreat to her quarters for a day or so, although no amount of fretting by the medical staff can keep her in bed for too long.
“Is she ok?” Rey starts clambering out of the engine, dropping tools haphazardly in her rush to get out.
“Yes, she's fine. As fine as she can be.”
“The message?”
“Ah! Yeah.” Rose grimaces slightly. “You're not going to like it.”
“Rose, what is it?”
“Okay, so you know how we were talking about getting a patron at the last strategy meeting?”
Rey had been listening at the last strategy meeting up until the point where Poe announced that they were planning on launching an offensive on the First Order within the next three months. After that she had been frantically wondering to herself how she and Ben could end the war before it came to that. Every plan she came up with fell apart and she left the meeting with a heavy heart and no idea what to do.
“Um, I vaguely recall? Maybe?”
“It's ok, those meetings put me to sleep too.” Rose grins. “Well, we found one. He's a Senator of the Galactic Republic and he's quite willing to support the resistance financially, provided we send some representatives to meet with him to hammer out the details. We're sending a few people to a planet in the core where he's holding a gala as a cover, and the resistance representatives are to attend under the guise of being guests.”
“I'm not sure I like where this is going.”
“Leia was due to attend of course, but due to her health she's had to take a step back. But we still need a representative, someone powerful that will sway the Senator and impress him. Someone that puts forward a strong image of the resistance and encourages him to support the cause.”
Rey groans. “Let me guess. Someone like the last Jedi?”
“Yes...” Rose shifts uncomfortably and Rey senses that she's not getting the entire story.
“Rose, what else is there? I'm already having to attend a formal event on a core world with a bunch of rich snobs, how much worse could it get?”
“It's not important.” Rose shakes her head. “All you need to know is, Leia requested you personally, and she told me to tell you specifically; 'I know you're not a diplomat, but just pretend you are for one evening. If in doubt smile and say some bantha poodoo about the Force working in mysterious ways'.” Both women laugh. “I assume that makes sense to you?”
“Yes, it does.” Rey sighs. “Alright, I'll go. On one condition.”
“What?”
“You're coming with me. I assume Poe is going on this mission and I need someone to act as a buffer between us in case we start getting on each other's nerves again.”
“Ugh fine. It'll give me an excuse to dress up at least I suppose. I just hope Finn doesn't get too jealous when he finds out the last Jedi is my date.” Rose says with a wink.
Which is how Rey finds herself standing in her quarters wearing a dress for the first time in her life, wondering if she's made a serious mistake. Rose had helped her with the hair and make-up, spraying a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume around a spluttering Rey before running out with a mischievous cackle to get ready herself.
The gown itself is simple enough, with a modest v-neck and a plunging back. The bottom hem of the dress skims the floor and it is entirely sleeveless, which somehow makes her feel even more exposed than the open back does. It's made of a shimmering silver silk that probably cost at least a year's worth of portions on Jakku.
It's the most beautiful thing Rey has ever worn and she feels grotesque, like she'll make the silk dirty just by touching it. Rey steps into the matching silver slippers (she had adamantly refused to wear heels), takes a deep breath and makes her way to the hangar.
As they get underway Poe takes a moment to give Rey an awkward but heartfelt thanks.
“I know we don't always see eye to eye and this isn't really your thing, but thank you for doing this, really. It means a lot.”
“It's fine. I've faced down scarier enemies than this, I can manage one gala surely.”
The gala is a nightmare. It's held in a building of such gaudy grandeur that it hurts Rey's eyes, and the tables are laden with more food than Rey has ever seen in her life. The distinguished guests look at her as though they know she's a nobody from a trash planet. Poe is looking ridiculously dashing in a well-tailored suit and is the very image of charm. For all they've had their moments of conflict Rey is now very grateful for the pilot's silver tongue. Between him fielding polite small talk with the guests and Rose (radiant in a pale blue gown) discreetly whispering explanations of who and what everyone is in her ear, Rey begins to feel slightly less adrift.
They eventually work their way over to their target for the evening. Senator Terrick Barr is a pale, wispy man that constantly rubs his hands together as though he is washing them. He makes a lifelong enemy of Rey almost instantly when he greets her by licking his lips and moving to press a kiss to her cheek, “accidentally” missing and kissing just under her ear instead. Rose grips the Jedi's arm tightly, the women each pressing their nails into each others arms as they grin through the slimy man's overtures. Even Poe's legendary charm buckles under the man's sheer creepiness when the Senator casually mentions his half-dozen teenage wives on his home planet. The man is at least old enough to be their grandfather.
“Of course, you may be wondering why a man such as myself would be willing to for an alliance with the resistance.” The Senator loves the sound of his own voice, getting entirely too close to the women who are still clinging to each other.
“Well, the Force works in mysterious ways, Senator.” Rey grits out.
“I must confess that I had thought the resistance a sad crippled shell of it's former self and had thought to prepare for the coming of another empire. But when I heard that they had the Last Jedi fighting for them well, I knew I had to get you on my side.” Rey forwns, affronted.
“And if the last Jedi had allied herself with the First Order, what then?” Rose grips Rey's arm and Poe's eyes flash a warning. The Senator carries on, unheeding.
“Then we would still be meeting my dear, under slightly different circumstances.”
“You would ally yourself with the First Order. Even after all they've done.”
“When you get to be my age you realise that from one regime to another, surprisingly little actually changes for the ones on top. And I am always on top. How old are you dear?”
“I just turned twenty.” Rey swallows down bitter bile in the back of her throat.
“Really? You could pass for younger.” The man's eyes wander up and down her frame in a way that makes Rey's flesh crawl.
“If you would excuse us.” Rose all but drags Rey away before Rey does something she regrets, and Poe engages the odious man in conversation once more.
Rey and Rose beat a hasty retreat, passing the ladies washrooms and stealing into an unused study.
“What the pfassk Rose why didn't you warn me what a slimeball this guy was?” Rey cries.
“I didn't want you to be biased against him.”
“But you knew he was like this.”
“Yes, he has a reputation for being a little...well...icky.”
“A little?! Rose he has six wives, not one of them over nineteen! He's got to be in his seventies at least!”
“Totally legal on his home planet. Women there are not permitted to hold property of their own, they only have what their husbands have.”
“And everyone just accepts that.”
“The galactic republic was built on the concept that every planet be allowed to govern itself and keep it's own laws.”
“Even if you find those laws repugnant.” Rey grits out.
“Yes.” Rose is gripping the Haysian smelt pendant she always wears so tightly her knuckles are going white.
“He doesn't even care about the resistance, he just thinks they're the slightly better option because they have me!”
“We don't need him to believe in the cause. We just need his money to pay for ships and weapons.”
“And you're ok with this?”
“Of course not! You think I like being here amongst all these sleemos? You think we have any choice? Senator Barr isn't even the worst of it! The Senate is filled with corruption.” Rose's eyes flash fire and Rey takes a step back. “Even back when it was newly-reformed with Leia working herself to death to rebuild the Republic it was full of crooks and liars, and since she quit politics to run with the resistance full time it's gotten even worse. It's an open secret that the Senate only serves itself. They keep up the facade of being for the people but in reality the galaxy works much the same way it always has, the rich live in the core and those in the colonies and beyond can go hang for all they care.”
Rey blinks in surprise, she's never seen the sweet-natured mechanic act like this.
“Rose, I didn't-”
“I grew up in Hays Minor, in the Otomok system.” Rose's eyes are bright with unshed tears. “It was a mining planet. Ever heard of it?”
“No.”
“Of course you haven't. Practically no-one has.” Rose's voice is bitter but she meets Reys eyes unflinchingly. “The First Order came to my home planet and stole all the strong children to be Stormtroopers. Then they forced the remaining citizens to strip the planet of resources so the First Order could take them to build their weapons. They worked about half of the population to death. Then, when their weapons were complete, they used Hays Minor as a test site.” Rose's hands are fisting in the tulle of her skirt. “And do you know what the Senate did about it?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Not a damned thing. They didn't even release a statement. A whole planet was destroyed, but because it wasn't in the core they just looked the other way.”
“Rose I...I'm sorry. I had no idea.” Rose deflates, her anger leaving her as suddenly as it had come on.
“It's alright. I'm sorry I blew up at you. I just...feel very strongly about this.” Rose gives a watery laugh. “I know how you feel Rey, really I do. I wish we didn't have to deal with creeps like this either, but we have no choice. We need what he can give us.”
“Seriously, I think his eyes have gotten higher than my collarbone maybe twice.” Rey mutters. The women glance at each other and giggle. The giggling grows into chuckles and before long the two are clinging on to each other to stay upright as laughter shakes both their frames.
“Oh stars, Rey, he is such a creep.” Rose giggles, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Yeah, but he's a creep we need money from. So let's go out and grin and bare it for a little longer?” Rey offers her arm, and Rose takes it.
“Fine. But if he tries to kiss either one of us again do me a favour and use the Force to make him slap himself.”
“Deal.”
It was much later that the party returned to the base, having been successful in their mission. The Senator offered to let them stay the night, which all three of them vehemently insisted was not necessary. When he went to kiss them goodbye he mysteriously tripped on thin air.
Rey slumps into her quarters utterly exhausted, wishing she had thought to take a change of clothes with her so she could have changed on the Falcon. All sound goes from the room and she feels Ben's presence behind her. Of course. Because the force just loves tormenting her. She waits for Ben to make some comment. And waits. And waits. Finally unable to take the silence any longer Rey hesitantly looks over her shoulder.
It looks like Rey caught Ben midway through training. He's wearing black trousers and tank top soaked with sweat, and his hair is tied in a low ponytail. He's staring at the skin of her back with some odd combination of hunger and mortification on his face, and the tips of his ears are turning red.
“You going to a party?”
“Just got back from one actually.”
“You-” His voice comes out hoarse and he clears his throat. “You look, uh...”
“I look ridiculous.” Rey sighs.
“You don't. You're stunning.”
“I look like what I am Ben, a sand rat in a dress.” Between the guests looking at her like she was a peasant and the Senator looking at her like she was a piece of meat Rey, usually unconcerned with her physical appearance, has never felt uglier.
“You look beautiful and whatever idiot made you feel less than that should be crushed like the insect they are.” Ben growls, throwing his practice saber out of sight as he advances towards her.
“Ben you can't just Force Choke everyone you disagree with.” The mental image of Senator Barr's face going purple as he chokes on nothing is far too appealing.
“I literally can.” In spite of herself Rey laughs a little. This whole situation is ridiculous. She's chatting with the most feared man in the galaxy and all she wants to do is reach out and touch the wisps of hair that are clinging to his sweat soaked skin. “I mean it Rey. You're better than all of them. You have a power they will never have.”
“Just because I'm more powerful than them doesn't make me better than them.” Rey turns to face him fully now, head held high and shoulders back. Ben is looking at her with such intense adoration Rey isn't sure if she wants to hide from in or bask in it for as long as possible.
“You would make a magnificent Empress.” The words seem to leave his mouth without conscious thought, and as soon as he realises the implications of what he's said his jaw snaps shut, the flush spreading over his face. Rey feels warmth spread across her own face, her eyes going wide.
Mother of Moons his proposals are getting worse. Or better? They're certainly getting bigger.
Rey is entirely too tired for any kind of banter, and something Rose said earlier has been stewing in her mind. “Why do you hate the Republic?”
Whatever response Ben had been expecting it certainly wasn't that.
“What?”
“You said the Senate was corrupt, I assume you hate the Republic too? That's why you want an Empire right?”
“I don't hate the Republic. I think, in theory, it is a wonderful idea.”
“Then why?”
“Because that's the only way it works, in theory. In reality the Republic is a lumbering collection of disparate factions. The wealthiest planets in the core receive all the benefits whilst most of the planets in the outer reaches are left to their own devices. The Senate has allowed them to self-govern without any supervision for so long that most have reverted to barbarism. The Republic claim to work for the good of all, but in reality they do nothing but offer mealy-mouthed platitudes to those who need them most whilst growing fat off another's toil.”
Strange. If circumstances were different Ben and Rose would get along famously. Rey thinks wryly. “And the First Order is the remedy to this?”
“The galaxy needs strong central leadership.”
“And conquering it is the only way to do that?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Your Mother believed in the Republic. She still does.” She still believes in you too.
“My Mother gave her life to the Republic. And all it gave her in return was heartache and betrayal. Ask her to tell you the story of how Darth Vader was revealed to be Anakin Skywalker sometime.”
“Your Mother...” Rey trails off, not sure how to broach the subject. Leia has very little time left.
“Is growing weaker. I know. I can feel it.” Ben's agony echoes through the bond.
“She wants to see you again. Before...”
“I can't.” Rey nods, pressing her lips together. It's not like he can pop round with a bunch of flowers, after all.
“She still loves you Ben.”
“I know.”
****
Rey fires up her new saberstaff in the training room, the blue blades crackling with raw energy.
“It's beautiful.” Ben says. Rey has ceased to be surprised by Ben's appearances. Even if they don't consciously reach out to each other the Force connects them on a daily basis now. She doesn't know what she'd do if she didn't see Ben at least once a day. “I look forward to seeing it on the battlefield.”
She idly twirls the saberstaff around, feeling numb. It's happening. She's going to have to face Ben in battle. Once she would have relished the thought of having another chance to beat him. Now it seems obscene. She can't possibly fight him. She can't kill him. She'd be killing part of herself.
“I've been training.” Force please don't make me do this I can kill him I can't please not him.
“Good. You'll need it.”
****
The scuttlebutt amongst the resistance is that Kylo Ren, scourge of the galaxy and Supreme Leader of the First Order, is going to be assassinated any day now.
Rey connects with Ben during a quiet moment in her room and asks the man himself.
“Yes that sounds about right.” His voice is casual but his manner is anything but. He's even paler than usual, with dark shadows under his eyes. His hands repeatedly clench and release, his jaw working ceaselessly.
“Why are you still there? You don't want to be a dictator Ben I know you don't. Why are you still doing this?” Rey pleads.
“Do you know who Admiral Hux is?”
“No idea.”
“He's my second in command. And he does want to be a dictator. Very much. He wants it so badly I believe he is willing to do just about anything to get it, including assassinate me. Or rather, have me assassinated, he's nowhere near powerful enough to do it himself.”
Incredible. Even facing death he's still an arrogant nerf-herder.
“So? Let him have it then! Leave the First Order, we can find a way to fight this, together!”
“If I leave it will create a power vacuum, and if Hux gains control of the First Order it's all over. You thought Hosnian Prime was bad? Hux won't hesitate to destroy and and all planets that stand in his way. He believes absolutely in the First Order and all it stands for. It's too late to stop it now. All I can do is make sure the monster I helped create doesn't kill too many people.”
Rey thinks of doing things for the greater good, of making deals with devils to get what you wanted and hoping the guilt didn't eat you from the inside out. She thinks of doing bad things for good reasons.
It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved.
She thinks of sitting in a stone hut, making a connection with a man she should hate.
There is no light and there is no dark. There never has been. There is just grey.
Rey finally realises what the uneasy feeling that's been brewing in her gut for the past month or so is. It's panic. She's running out of time. They all are. Her, Leia, Ben, the resistance. It's like trying to hold on to sand, the harder she tries to hold it the faster it gets away from her.
Rey can wait for Ben forever. The galaxy can't.
“The First Order will be mobilizing within the next couple of weeks.” Ben says mildly. “You should be ready.”
Rey nods, then does something stupid. “You're in the Tion Cluster.”
“And you're in Bothan space.” Ben replies, without missing a beat. “How long have you been able to tell where I am through the bond?”
“A while. And you?”
“Much the same.”
“I was researching Force bonds.” Rey struggles to speak around the lump in her throat. “You can sever them if you want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“No. Do you?”
“No.”
****
It's barely a surprise when Rey rolls over in her bunk and finds Ben lying next to her, the coarse blankets of her resistance bunk blending into soft black sheets. The Force has no sense of propriety.
Ben mumbles an apology and moves to leave his side of the bed, but Rey grabs his arm before he can go.
“Stay. Please.”
They lie like that for a long time, foreheads touching, soaking in the warmth of each other's skin and smell and the sounds of their breathing.
“I don't want to fight you Ben. I don't think I can. Whether you kill me on the battle field or I kill you I think either way I'm going to die.” Tears are leaking from her eyes, dripping over the bridge of her nose and onto the pillow.
“I couldn't kill you Rey. I'd rather run myself through than hurt you. But sooner or later we will meet in battle.”
Rey is lying on her right side and slowly, carefully she raises her left hand to trace over the scar she gave him on Starkiller. Ben's eyes drift shut as her fingers carefully skim over his brow, down his cheekbone and past his jaw, past his throat where his pulse is hammering against the skin and finally where it curves onto his chest. She presses her palm there firmly, nudges her forehead against his until he opens his eyes. She gazes into his eyes, losing herself in him until she's not sure if she's looking in at him or if she's looking out at herself.
Her lips press against his gently, so gently. Rey's very soul feels the rightness of it and she swears she can hear the Force humming around them. It's a chaste touch of lips, but even so when she pulls back she can see Ben is as affected as she is. His pupils are blown, breathing ragged. There's a look of utter wonder on his face, as though he's just been told the answers to every mystery the galaxy has ever had.
“I'm not losing you, Ben. I refuse. We're going to win this war. Together. We can't win it any other way.” Rey whispers, bringing her other hand up to trace along his jaw. “I've been thinking about this a lot, and I have a plan for how we can do this.”
Rey swears she can feel all of history teetering on a knife's edge. All the years of history and pain and suffering, leading up to this moment.
“Alright,” Ben says. “Tell me the plan.”
****
Ok so this is very late. I won't bore you with the details but between illness and computer issues I basically missed Reylo week. But hey! Better late than never. I am filling all the prompts, and will try and get them up as soon as I can.
I tried writing something straight up dark but I just couldn't do it. I have a fascination with those tricky grey areas between good and evil and started pouring my thoughts out on the page, and this happened. It grew legs and got away from me a bit, and I'm not totally happy with it but I'm sick of looking at the damn thing so here it is.
Not so fun fact: Senator Barr is in fact based on a man I have the great misfortune to work with irl. I regret to inform you, gentle reader, that I have not invented or exaggerated any part of his personality. Including the neck kissing thing and the teenage wives. Really. I wish I was kidding.
As always this is unbeta'd, I apologise for any errors. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
#reyloweek2018#reylo week 2018#reylo#rey#kylo ren#ben solo#my writing#this turned into a monster seriously this was meant to be a quick one shot how did it get so out of control
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Don’t get between a mama spider and her baby.
Natasha is highly protective.
read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578419/chapters/51447373
Summery: Natasha had killed dozens of people before, murdered ruthlessly to get her mission accomplished, so when someone injured her (yes her) kid, they would have hell to pay. TL;DR: someone wanted Mama Spider and Baby Spider so I wrote angst and then some fluff and then a dash of murder- enjoy!
Natasha had seen lots of people bruised and bloody before, hell she had murdered plenty of people, so blood shouldn’t fas her, so she didn’t understand why she felt such an ache in her chest when she saw Peter walked in the door from school with a myriad of colorful bruises covering every inch of the teens exposed skin, and if the way he was walking was any indication, they extended to under his hoodie. He walked with a slight limp and seemed to be trying to make a beeline to his room- as if she would allow this to go unexplained. Still, she knew from personal experience that pushing too hard to fast would make the tiny spider clam up. Despite the fact that he was only Starks kid legally, they shared several qualities, geniuses who tried to hide every negative emotion and had a tendency to randomly gift people things with no context, (She had woken up to little wrapped gifts on multiple occasions when she had been having a bad day, with no note or acknowledgment, not that it was hard to figure out.) She, however, couldn’t help but wince when she saw the tears on his face catch the light before he disappeared down the hallway.
She didn’t know who had decided that she should comfort the baby spider, but Tony was in Japan at the moment, and she knew that she couldn’t just let him sulk in silence, which she was well aware he did far too much anyway (FRIDAY was very helpful in informing her which teammates needed to be distracted from a battle, patrol gone wrong, nightmare, Etc.) So, she held her book, white-knuckled as she stared at the clock, waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass before intruding on the teen, finally, after three minutes and 47 seconds to long without information, she dog-eared her page, and slowly rose, padding to his door. She took care to walk on the heels of her feet, despite the fact that it rebelled against literally everything instinct she had had drilled into her because right now she actually wanted him to hear her footsteps. He probably could tell she was modifying her walk, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she rationed.
Sooner than she had anticipated, the assassin was meet with the teen’s door, determinedly shut. Somehow, this part felt much, much harder than she had anticipated. Once she knocked, there was no turning back. Immediately, however, guilt and anger filled her, as she thought about the state of the poor teen when he had come in. Hell would freeze before she let someone get away with doing that to Peter. After all, spiders stick together. Or eat each other, but she was choosing to focus on the spirit of it. Finally, after 10 long seconds of internal monologuing, she raised a hand, knocking three times, quick and concise.
“Come in.” Peters’s voice said, sounding shaky and far to quiet for the buy she was used to. He clearly did not have his boundless energy after whatever fight had happened.
“Peter…” Now that she had a good look at him, she really was at a loss for words, he had taken the hoodie off, clearly, and it lay crumpled on the floor, stained red from some of the places that looked like a boot had broken his skin. His hair had been matted with blood, which seemed to still be running down from his scalp in a slow trickle that made her stomach twist. The worst thing though, the worst thing was his face. He looked dejected and, well scared. An emotion that he went to great lengths to hide, and he did so to the extent that seeing it was disconcerting for her to finally see displayed so openly. “What happened?”
“Fight,” he said, now that she was closer, she could hear that his words were clipped and tense, as though he was trying to hold back the emotion in them.
“Hmm.” She hummed. “I think you have to punch back for it to be a fight.”
He just looked down at his dark blue comforter, keeping his eyes completely focused on an imaginary piece of dust.
“Well, come on then.” She said, standing and walking to the bathroom.
“What?” He asked with a raspy voice.
“I need to clean you up because if those get infected you are gonna be in a world of hurt.”
He just looked at his lap again “Okay.”
“And you are explaining this to me,” she demanded because she knew it wasn’t the best tactic but as she looked at the bruises, she felt anger swelling up in her. She had never heard the kid so damn quiet before, and for some reason, it was more disturbing than any of the bruises.
Silently. She tugged the shirt off of him, which was easy, as he was floppy and compliant. She had seen Steve like this several times before, their crazy super healing kicking in and draining them of energy. When Steve did it, she would tease him relentlessly, however, it just added to her growing concern. Despite how hard she had tried, when she saw his core completely black and blue, with clear broken ribs, she couldn’t help but gasp threw her nose.
“Talk.” Was all she commanded, before setting to work on the teen. She took out the rubbing alcohol as he drew in a breath, wincing at the action.
“W-Well, I was at school right? And there was this kid named Flash…” he trailed off again, not seeming to remember the rest of the sentence.
“Doesn’t that count as child abuse, naming a kid that?” she quipped, and felt satisfied when she saw a smile tug at his busted lip, although winced when it caused a single drop of blood to roll down to his chin, which she quickly wiped away using a small pad of gauze.
“Well… he was making fun of my friend, MJ, I told you about her, remember?” he asked, clearly trying to drag out the conversation.
“Hmm, MJ the ‘super pretty really scary kinda badass who you are definitely asking out’ who put a dead chicken in his locker?”
“Ms. Nat! I never said I was going to ask her out!”
“Well you are, proceed,” she said smirking.
“Well um, he wouldn’t leave her alone, and normally she is really good at shutting that kind of thing down, but he was being like, really persistent and horrible and well… Hey!” he protested when she suddenly pressed rubbing alcohol to a fairly large cut on his side.
“Keep talking and I might warn you.”
“Anyway, he was going on and on about history, for some reason, and I guess there must have been something that happened that I didn’t know about, cuz we have different history teachers, because she just like, stormed off, which is not like her at all, yah know. Cuz i’m a superhero and I think she is braver than me… and then…”
“What did he say?” she interrupted, getting a sinking feeling in her gut.
“He asked her if her mom had made any more visits to the teacher to bump her grade up, which didn’t make sense, because it’s one of her best subjects. Well there all her best subjects, except for Cem, but I help her with that. Anyway, so she stomped off and I asked Flash what he said and why it made her so angry, and he kept saying things like, nothing, and I wouldn’t leave him alone, and then MJ came back and she had been crying and she slapped him like... Really hard, and then he tried to go after her, and then I stopped him and then we fought. And…”
“Wait, he did this to you?” She interjected, looking up from where she had been wrapping his ribs.
“No, well… yes… kinda… only part of it…ow! just like, let me finish, I swear it’ll make sense.”
“Okay.” She conceded, turning her attention back to his ribs which she was wrapping tighter then strictly necessary.
“So I let him beat me up a bit because like… what’s the worst he could do right? This is Flash, and so I let him get a few hits in and then act like I’ve had enough, and by then almost everyone had left but MJ hadn’t which was weird, because she usually rode the bus, a-and so I asked her what had happened, and the like… I dunno she just started crying and told me that her mom had been cheating o-on her dad b-because she was worried that MJ wouldn’t pass otherwise… even though she was like…. Acing everything, and she… it...”
“Peter.” She interjected, placing a hand on one of Peters as he wound a loose thread around one of his fingers hard enough to completely cut off the blood.
“A-Anyway, so I was like… upset, and I went to go yell at the teacher, when he just like… totally flipped and started hitting me with a hole punch, and he wasn’t enhanced or anything so I couldn’t fight back without accidentally hurting or maybe even killing his so i just… let him hit me…”
“A not enhanced man couldn’t do this Peter.”
“Well… after all that I was going to walk home, after checking on MJ… of course, but then Flash saw me again and we started fighting because of what he said to MJ a-and he um… he managed to uh, to find out about May a-and he… well… he just kept talking about her and saying like, really, really just like… bad stuff and…” he stopped to draw in a shaky breath and tightening his eyelids to try and stop the tears from falling, which wasn’t very successful.
“Come here, Pete.” She said after a moment of thought, opening her arms wide to allow him to crawl into the hug as she repositiond herself, leaning against the headboard so that she could hug him better. He accepted happily, allowing her to tuck her chin over his head as he listened to her heart.”What did he say about her Pete?”
“H-he said up… well… he said that- that I wouldn’t ever be able to um, to stay at midtown now b-because now May w-wasn’t there to…” He cut himself off, burying his head deeper into her jacket, making her chest constrict with anger. She hadn’t killed anyone point-blank in a long time, but she was pretty sure that this was about to change.
“He shoved me into a car.”
“What! Peter! You could have lead with that! We need to get you scanned! You could be bleeding out internally right now!”
“I-I’m not I-I would be um, I can tell when i-it happens… ``I-I’m okay…”
“That pushed you in front of a car, why the hell didn’t you tell me that first?” She almost shouted, feeling the hot anger filling every inch of her.
“I’m s-s-sorry I j-just umm… I didn’t want you t-to be mad and um…”
She would be lying to say that she didn’t melt a little bit when she heard the way his voice shook. He was so young, so uncertain of how his would be perceived.
“Peter, I would never be angry at you for that, you know that don’t you?”
He gave a tearful nod, though not a very convincing as she felt the tears splash onto her shirt as he tightened his grip on her,
“I’m sorry Ma’am.”
“What on earth do you have to be sorry for Peter? I already told you that I’m not mad.” She asked, trying her very best to keep all of the venom out of her voice, which she didn’t think she was completely successful in doing biased on how Peter flinched into her.
“I um… I well, I fought with Flash a-and and Mr. Ria and um, Flash again…”
“Peter, you don’t have to apologize for being attacked. You just trying to protect your friend, and that is an admirable thing.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles into her shoulder.
“You’re welcome. What did you say flash’s whole name was again?”
“Ms. Nat!” He said, clearly guessing her intentions.
“I thought you mentioned it earlier, I swear!” She said, raising her hand a little and giggling along with the teen.
“His name is Eugene Flash Thompson.”
“Eugene Thompson!” She exclaimed, earning her a laugh from the injured teen, “A human being named their child Eugene Thompson? No wonder he’s such a little shit!”
“Yeah,” Peter said, seeming much more like himself, if not still a bit quiet, giving her an idea. There was only one thing that could make this quite in all the time she had known him.
“Come in, follow me,” she said, standing.
“Where are we going?” he asked quietly, but his interest was piqued.
“We are going to watch a movie, you choose,” she said, pulling him up. She felt guilty when she saw him wince at the motion, although not guilty enough to stop her from slinging an arm over his shoulder and steering him down the hall, careful to take as much of his weight as she could without appearing too obvious.
“Can we watch Star Wars?” he asked hopefully, his face lit up when she nodded.
“Sure. Go sit on the couch while I get popcorn.”
He walked over, keeping a hand firmly around his (More) injured side, as he moved, looking more than a little pained. However, he relaxed once he had settled into the couch, curling in on himself with his knees drawn up to his chin. She prodded him to unfurl so she could hand the popcorn over and pulled the boy against her as the opening soundtrack started.
The poor kid really did try and stay awake for her, but by the time Yoda appeared he was long gone, his body tired from work that healing took. Which is the only reason that Clint was able to catch the photo, which he had now hung everywhere and posted on every media outlet that existed, of her and Peter, both sleeping peacefully on the couch as Jedi fought in the background, taken from a possible angle in the ceiling, telling her that he had snapped it from the vents.
When she looked back at it, seeing Peters sleeping face, which at that point was healed enough to not look alarming, if you hadn’t known the state he was in when he came in it would have looked just barely bruised. Looking at the photo, which she definitely didn’t frame and keep by her bed, she realized why it had bothered so much to see him that way, bloody and bruised. It was more than being unsettled by the break of an unwritten rule, that children would be safe at school, from both teachers and students, but as she saw how his sleeping body was curled into hers, so blindly trusting of her, Natasha realized that, even if Tony had been the one to sign the adoption papers, he was all of there kid, and they were never letting him go.
“ Joe Ria, I have been planning on meeting with you for a while.”
Pt 2
“Joe Ria, I have been planning on meeting you for a while,” Natasha said, coming up from behind the desk she had been hiding behind, as she held the gaze of the aforementioned adult in front of her.
“Who are you?” he asked bluntly, clearly not feeling nearly as threatened as he should.
She punched him in the face.
“What the hell lady!” he exclaimed, looking almost comically surprised. It would never fail to amuse her how much her marks could underestimate a hit to the face from a woman.
“I believe you know Peter Parker?” she asked, not even trying to keep the venom from her voice now if she scared him so be it, it would only make the job more enjoyable.
“Yeah I know the brat, I teach him, I- W-what is that?” The man asked, stammering when he saw her pull out the needle she had kept concealed in her jacket sleeve.
“I told you I wanted to talk, so you’re gonna talk.”
0o0o0o0o
Peter woke up to his phone dinging insistently, causing him to jolt up. Upon checking it, he saw about 30 texts from Ned, as well as a few missed calls. He was about to check them when his phone rang again, causing him to groan at the sound before answering.
“Hello?” he asked groggily throw the phone.
“Peter! Ho-ly shit did you see the news! It’s insane! The school is closed for a week!”
“What? No, I didn’t, did something happen?”
“Um, yeah something happened! Pull it up on your phone, it was literally all over the news!”
“Okay, okay! Umm… polar bears, Mr. Stark, Ummm, oh shit!”
“Did you find it?” Ned asked excitedly.
“Yeah,” he said, hesitantly, his eyes scanning over the article, the headline glaring at him on the screen
Teacher arrested at local highschool when found tied up with video confession to beating student with a hole punch; attacker unknown.
“Can you believe it! They said that Mr. Ria is going to jail for like, years!”
“Yeah, you know what Ned, I’ve gotta go.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I think I know who did this.” He said, hanging up the phone on his friend’s indignant squeaks.
He sighed for a moment, blinking away a moment of vertigo from sitting up before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and padding down to the kitchen, where Natasha was sitting, looking rather smug while drinking her drip coffee.
“Did you kill my teacher?” He asked bluntly, causing all his teammates to turn their heads to the pair.
“You’re awake.” She stated instead, “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine, my teacher, however, is in the hospital.”
“So he survived,” she said, nonchalantly.
“Natasha, what did you do?” Steve asked, looking at her over the newspaper, wearing an expression that reminded Peter of Mike Wheeler’s father.
“I did what was necessary.”
The supersoldier scowled. “Is murder ever necessary?”
“Yes, in this instance it was Rogers.” She replied, her face taut with an unreadable expression.
They just stared for a moment, unsure how to respond to her, seemingly dumbstruck. They were silent for several minutes, until Peter’s phone rang again, startling them all. Peter answered it hurriedly, seeing it was Ned again. The rest of the team listened intently as they talked.
“What do you mean his parents are dead?” Peter asked through the phone.
“So he just thinks they’re dead?”
“Photos?” He exclaimed through the phone.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll call you back.” And such, Peter ended the conversation, shooting a glare at Natasha who looks not at all guilty.
“What happened?” Steve asked, despite most likely having heard the whole thing, with his enhanced ears and all.
“Mrs. Natasha, you can’t just send photos of a crime scene to a kid! He thinks his parents are dead and what did you do with his parents.”
“Relax. They’re on a cruise to Maui, he’ll see them again in two weeks.” The assassin answered smoothly.
“So he’s gonna think there dead for two weeks!”
“Yes, that was the plan.”
They all started for a moment, trying to process what she was saying.
“Natasha…” Steve started before she cut him off.
“Steve, that kid pushed Peter onto a busy road. He got run over by a semi-truck for fuck’s sake, I think my reaction was perfectly acceptable. And the teacher, a person who was deemed by the state the best applicant to be interacting with children every day, attacked him with a hole punch. I feel that my reaction showed remarkable restraint.” Natasha spat the words at them, her voice showing more emotion then Peter had seen from her in months of training with them. No one spoke for several tense minutes until Clint broke the silence.
“Where the hell is that kid.” He said in an almost growl, honestly slightly scaring Peter.
“Wait, no, no no, no, no. I already have to explain to him what happened to his parents, and I need him alive to do so.” Peter said hoping to calm the fire in the eyes of all three of them.
“Will you at least let me speak with him Peter, you know I would never kill a kid,” Steve asked.
“Fine, Steve, and only Steve can talk to him. But I still don’t want you alone with him.” peter said, having a sinking feeling that somehow he had just made a very big mistake.
“Oh you don’t have to worry about that, there will be plenty of others there.” Peter did not feel at all comfortable with the glint behind the supersoldiers eye.
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As Hard As You Can
To each their own and find peace in knowing
Ain't always broken, but here's to hoping
Show no emotion, against your coding
Just act as hard as you can
You don't need a friend
Boy, you're the man
“Feeling Whitney,” Post Malone
“I’ll see you…” Dom trailed off, pulling up his jeans, eyes on the clock by the door as it flashed from 6:59 to 7:00. “…I’ll send you a message once I figure out my schedule for this week.” He said at last, zipping his fly and turning around to face the girl sprawled on the mattress on the floor.
She was pretty—brunette, his type, with dark eyes—and wound in a sheet even though it was September and it was freezing in the morning in Vienna. Apparently Russians were impervious to the cold, lucky them. She gave him a lazy smile as she shook her head, the kind of knowing look Dom could remember his mother giving him when he was young. I know better than you think I do.
“Uh huh,” the girl nodded, arching her back into a stretch, his eyes on her legs as they retreated back under the sheet. “So…that’ll be what? About a month or so?”
Dom shrugged, picking up his ancient leather jacket from the floor and tugged it on, eye already back on the clock. He was acutely aware that he had an intel meeting in fifteen minutes and the conversation they were skirting around was definitely not a ten minutes or less conversation.
“Do you think I’m stupid or something? I saw your name on that list, the one in the papers,” the girl went on. “I know you’re leaving soon—the less than a month kind of soon, Dominic,” she said sharply. “At least do me the curtesy of breaking it off like a man.” Before Dom could answer, she let out an irritable laugh. “Not that there’s anything to break off.”
Dom hated that he’d agreed. It’s not that he hadn’t been interested in Ana—in fact, the first time she’d come to watch drill with her brother, one of Dom’s men, Dom had missed almost every target he’d aimed for. She was like that—completely distracting to everyone around her. Which is why Dom had rationed his time with her carefully, refusing to be pulled into her orbit when he had work, drill, and everything else to deal with.
But that had been a year ago. It was insane to think about how fast the time had flown—how, in twelve short months, he’d gone from a company man to…whoever he was now. A version of himself that would now be boarding a shuttle craft to a space station of which he never had, even for a g-ddamn second, wanted to visit, much less become a citizen.
He should’ve known Mia would try to drag him up there with her. On an intellectual level, he felt for the girl—she was young, she’d be alone after she’d always been surrounded by family or maids or security guards…it was going to be a lot at once. When she’d told him he passed the background check, he’d been floored because he had been absolutely certain that something from his past, any of the million things he’d been able to keep from the Manz family, would rear its ugly fuckin’ head. It wouldn’t have taken a lot to catch it—some malware on his computer, a tapped phone, someone following him to the woods for drill.
But they hadn’t.
And now they wouldn’t. New computer, new phone, it was as simple as that. He’d had to sacrifice a few men when the Bishop kid had asked for his men’s information after he’d been brought into the fold of the trustworthy, but he’d managed to get a hold of forged papers for the ones who really mattered. That was one of the advantages of being the nameless, faceless help of the royal family wearing the same ugly, ill-fitting uniform—almost complete anonymity. For the ones who couldn’t afford fake paperwork, Dom made the rounds with the right bribes—minor crimes were easy to expunge if you went to the home office and asked the right kind of desperate secretary with the right kind of ‘aw shucks’ smile.
About the only person Dom had realized he wouldn’t be able to fool was Mia. He didn’t deal with her parents enough for them to know the rest of her detail by name, nonetheless face, but Mia would notice if, once they landed on Exodus, Blaine randomly started going by Blake and Reed suddenly started speaking with a Turkish accent. A series of strategic firings and rehirings took place right before the announcement, a shuffling of people from the King’s detail to the Princess’s…the kind of changes so small that they mostly flew under the radar and could be dismissed with a light explanation but significant enough under the surface that Dom had felt like he’d really accomplished something.
That something being he’d gotten the right men on the roster to go to Exodus.
He didn’t love deceiving the princess. He had known her since she was nine, after all, nothing but blonde hair and boundless energy and smiles for literally everyone she encountered. When he’d been sixteen, full of angst and frustrated for being mocked for his Virginian accent, he had resented following around a little girl who practically danced from room to room, a little girl who was showered with a kind of praise and admiration and gifts that Dom had never seen before. Even though his job had been pretty insignificant when he started on her detail—double checking itineraries and being first-in and last-out of rooms she was entering and exiting (“bait” for booby-trapped assassination attempts)—he found himself less bothered by her as he grew. Mia bugged all of her guards to tell her their birthdays and made elaborate cards covered in glue and glitter which she presented with a smirky kind of pride. A few times she’d “slipped” and fallen into the lake on the grounds, splashing around until Dom or one of the other men jumped in after to save her, only to be met with giggles and splashing.
Dom knew it had probably been lonely for her, growing up in a castle with no siblings, constantly followed around by men who’d typically rather be doing anything else. He was just growing out of his angsty teenage years when she began them. He remembered once, shortly after his twentieth birthday—he’d been second to only her bodyguard at that point—she’d chucked a boot at him with all of her twelve-year-old strength because he’d chuckled when he caught her lip-syncing in her room. There were a handful of years where she’d done her best to ditch the detail at every opportunity, leading to shouting matches between Dom and his father over whether or not a fourteen year old girl should have to have a twenty-one year old man wait for her outside of the bathroom. There had been more than one instance of her tossing a sparkling fruit drink in his face (she was too young for champagne, thankfully—alcohol in the eyes was fuckin’ painful), the time she’d tricked him into thinking her bathroom window was broken and then locked him inside and gone to the city on her own. There’d been a time, when he was twenty-three and finally scored his first real girlfriend, that a particularly ornery sixteen year old Mia had invited her to tea at the castle and proceeded to tell her every embarrassing thing Dom had ever done—the times he’d fallen down the stairs, sneezed loudly in the middle of an important meeting, managed to get a bloody nose while supervising a brunch with the Duchess of Cambridge.
And then suddenly, without warning, she was seventeen and didn’t look like a little girl anymore. Without a sign it was happening, Dom was one day chastising a child for trying to ditch her detail, accepting a hug from a sobbing, guilty nine year old…and the next day he was trying to persuade a headstrong woman to listen to advice that he himself would never have taken. He’d gone from tripping over books sprawled across her bedroom floor as she complained about having to go to events to plucking glasses of wine and flutes of champagne out of the hand of the girl who’d once hated those same damn events only years earlier. Even though she was still tiny, he could not, in good conscious, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder when she’d tried to take off on him. He couldn’t yell at her for risk of her yelling back. On at least one occasion, Dom had had to not-so-subtly threaten the Prince of Monaco with bodily harm when Dom had found him attempting to scale the terrace a few doors down from Mia’s room.
And now that Mia was grown up, the fact that he was lying to her practically every day had grown more difficult. When she was younger, it hadn’t bothered him…but now, when he felt like she had at least a decent read on whether or not he was bullshitting her, he had to be careful. He stuck to the truth as much as he could and took sick days when he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with lying about why he had a black eye or why her detail had been shuffled around. He was glad he didn’t need to make up a girlfriend when he started using that an excuse for working fewer night shifts—even if he was rarely with Ana those nights, the fact that Mia knew Ana existed at least made the lie seem more likely than some random excuse.
And now here he was, standing in Ana’s room, listening as she told him off for the last year worth complaints she’d been holding in—that he was never around, that he was always working, that he was just going to fuck off to Exodus and not tell her until it was too late. Deep down, Dom truly did care about Ana, truly did care that he had hurt her, and truly did think he would miss her once he’d fucked off to space. But in that moment, as he heard the words it’s over fly out of her lips, spiked with vitriol and contempt, all Dom could think:
Fuck. There goes my alibi.
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