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hongism · 4 years

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mists of celeste ➻ sixteen

➻ pairing: ot8 x fem!reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 10.7k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, knives, mild torture scene ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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mists of celeste act two ➻ part six

Darkness swirls across your vision even as your eyelids flutter open. The air around you feels chilly and almost brittle, a sharp tension that you almost inhale as you breathe. You lift your head, noticing a dull ache in your muscles, and try to move your hands. You can’t, however. In fact, you can’t even move your arms. What feels like needles blossoms across your arms and wrists. You twist and writhe in attempts to figure out what the hell is going on, but panic is beginning to settle in and you still can see nothing thanks to whatever is over your eyes. Your legs are in a similar predicament; stuck in place with pain blossoming around your ankles when you try to yank them forward.

Something catches you by the hair and tugs back, and you nearly cry out from the sheer surprise but you can’t. You finally notice the bindings around your mouth as well, shoved between your teeth and pressing against your tongue every time you move it. You can see now, however, a blessing for sure. That is until you realize where you are and what is going on.

Your vision adjusts slowly, the minimal light in the room filtering in slowly, and you can make out a few silhouettes surroundings you. One stands directly in front of you, and you can’t make out who the hell it is until the person takes a step forward. Light from above casts crude shadows across her features, making her seem ten times harsher than the first time you saw her. Taskmaster Cara. You thrash against your bonds in attempts to get lose but it’s pointless. The Berserker toys with a small knife, the blade long and curved, and the only thing you feel in that moment is panic. She leans down when your glare hardens on her. A cruel smile plays at her lips, and she tilts her head to the side.

“Did you have a nice sleep?”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to but you settle for gritting your teeth around the gag between your lips. Your stare doesn’t waver or falter, but Cara is unamused by your show of defiance. She draws ever closer, the tip of her knife coming up to drag over your cheek. It’s not enough pressure to cut the skin but if you even breathe the wrong way she could cut into you with ease. You tilt your head back nonetheless, and Cara digs the blade a little deeper.

The skin stings as she drags the blade over it, and it burns like a papercut. Hot blood trickles down your cheek.

“Did you really think you were clever enough to escape me? Now you have nowhere to run. A mouse trapped for the cat to eat. Lucky for me, the bounty for you being delivered dead is still quite hefty. I’ll take your lifeless body to the military and rules the black seas. But–” Cara pauses and leans away from you with the same smirk blossoming on her lips “–not before I have a little fun.”

The woman pulls back without saying another word, standing up straight once more. She continues to twirl the knife in her hands and passes it from hand to hand as she drags her gaze over you. You twist a little in the chair you’re bound to. The blood from your cheek catches on your jawline and ceases its hot path down your face.

A laugh leaves her lips, and she turns away from you, obviously satisfied with her work already.

“Wake him up.” She jerks her head. You aren’t sure what she means by that, but upon looking past her tall form, you can see another limp form in a chair opposite you. They have bindings across their ankles, chest, and arms just like you do with a gag to match. A black hood masks their face, but something tells you that you don’t want to know who sits behind the material. A figure moves behind the person though, and the black hood is ripped out with no shortage of ferocity. Your blood runs cold. You don’t move but your body instinctually begins to trembles against the ropes around you.

It takes a moment for reality to settle in, but when it does, you begin thrashing against the bindings around you in a desperate attempt to get out. Before you know it, your eyes are stinging and burning with unshed tears because this has to be a nightmare, this can’t be real, and this sure as hell cannot be happening. There’s no way you’re here right now, and there’s no way that San is tied to the chair across from you.

He is still unconscious, although based on the look on Cara’s face that won’t last for long, and your suspicions are correct. The person behind San grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks him back.

“Wake the fuck up!” The man shouts into San’s ear, and San jerks back into a state of full consciousness. He groans as he wakes, the sound a bit muffled by the gag between his lips, and his head slumps forward again when the man behind him lets go of his hair.

“San, San, San. Aren’t you going to wake up to see this?” Cara clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, turning back to you with a sinister look in her eyes. You tug at the ropes over your wrists. They’re tied too tight for you to wiggle out of, and you gnaw on the inside of your cheek when Cara approaches you with knife in hand again. She lifts the blade to your other cheek, toying with your skin without slicing it open. “Look here, Sannie. I have a surprise for you.”

San’s chin bobs a little then he pulls his head up. Eyes find yours in an instant. A second passes then San is jerking and writhing in his binds, yelling around the gag in his mouth. The sounds remain muffled and broken though, all ineffective and useless in the long run because Cara just keeps dragging the tip of the knife over your skin.

“Keep him still, Cyrus. He needs to see every second of this.”

The man behind San moves froward again and grabs his hair, forcing him to sit relatively still. It doesn’t stop San from thrashing and yelling through the gag. Cara throws her head back and lets a loud laugh loose. The sound echoes through the building, bouncing off the walls and ceiling until it rings in your ears.

“Come on, Sannie. It’s just like old times. Why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this fun?”

Cara pushes a lilt into her tone, motioning over to where you’re seated with the knife. Her laugh continues to ring as she draws closer to you and circles around the back of your chair.

“Don’t you remember how things used to be? How we used to play? The captain used to string people up like this for you all the time. Let you play God without consequence.”

Cara presses forward and her chin comes to rest on your shoulder. You prepare to slam your head against hers but the icy chill of the blade brushes over the skin of your throat. You freeze under the touch, eyes meeting San’s across the room. He looks ready to murder, and his body goes completely still just like yours.

“You deserve to see the consequences of your actions, Sannie. Coming here wasn’t just suicide. It was murder.” Cara shifts the knife just a little, but in your mind, it feels like much more. “Because now you aren’t going to be the only one to die. You will be the last to die, however, because I want you to watch every second of my torture on your little friend here.” The Berserker pauses to look at your face, bringing the knife up to drag over the cut already on your cheek. “I still remember your cruel methods, Sannie. Would you like to see them replicated on her now?”

San jerks upon hearing the words, straining against the ropes around him and struggling to no avail. Cara releases a dramatic gasp.

“Does she not know? Sannie, aren’t you proud of your past? Proud of all the pain you caused? Those cruel little methods you always used? Why can’t you tell her about your past?” Cara pushes the knife back down to your throat but this time she digs it a little bit deeper against your skin. You grit your teeth around the gag and squeeze your eyes shut as tight as possible. Your breathing has quickened too much in a short amount of time, and you’re fully aware that if it gets any worse then you’ll start to hyperventilate and that’s the last thing you need at the moment. It’s difficult to convince your body to shut up and listen to your mind’s desperate pleas to slow your breathing though; much more difficult than you anticipated.

You’ve been through shit like this before, Y/N. Just breathe. Been through worse actually. You’ll be fine now. Absolutely fine. Just focus on what’s important.

Your eyelids snap open and you look directly at San. Something is different this time. This time you aren’t alone. You’ve only ever been alone in the past, but now you aren’t. You didn’t have to look after someone else – nor did you want that responsibility – but seeing San struggling against the ropes and screaming around the gag… you need to get San out of here. You need to get him away, you have to, you have to keep him from ending up like you or worse.

Teeth sink into the tip of your tongue, and you inhale a deep breath. The pressure of the blade against your neck increases as you shift under Cara’s touch. Her other hand moves to your hair, locking in the strands and tugging your head back until you are eye level with San. You know that she’s trying to force you to look at San, but you don’t do what she wants. Instead, your gaze drifts around the building in search of any possible opens or escape routes. The Berserker behind you begins to speak to San again, giving you time to look around as best you can without irritating her.

“Cyrus, pull the gag off. I want to hear him beg.” The man does as asked, tugging the cloth until it falls loosely, and San spurs the movements on by spitting it out of his mouth as soon as he can.

“You fucking cunt, I’ll murder you if it’s the last thing I do. You won’t walk out of here alive, I will make sure of it because if you so much as hurt a single hair on her head, then I will draw out your miserable life until you’re the one begging for mercy.”

“Oh, ho, ho! Sannie, those are such big words. Almost like old times except with a lot more fury in them. That’s your weakness.” Cara tugs your hair more until it hurts, and you whimper behind the gag. “Big talk for someone tied to a chair without weapons and surrounded by a whole crew of bandits and pirates. You’ve gotten reckless beyond belief. And for what? For one criminal who is worth more money than you have ever seen in your life? You’ve gone soft.”

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth again. Her hand slides the knife further down and catches on your collarbone. With one quick motion, she slices the skin open, leaving a shallow cut. You hiss around the cloth between your teeth and bite down hard to keep from crying out. You shift your gaze to look over at San to gauge his expression. He thrashes in his chair, slamming his feet against the ground so hard that it causes his chair to tip backward. He knocks into the thug behind him, but the angle causes him to fall on his side. There isn’t any time for him to move before another pirate comes up on the side and presses a hefty boot on the side of San’s face. It keeps him stuck against the dirty floor, facing where you’re sitting. Cara’s demeaning laugh rings in your ears over and over.

She pulls the knife away from your chest, and as she moves it, you catch the sight of crimson on the blade. Cara’s eyes trail over the liquid with a cruel smirk. She grabs hold of your chin, stepping around you and leaning over so that you are eye level.

“You know… there’s an old Tibehken legend my mother used to tell me every night. With each life you take, the darker your blood becomes. The way to know if someone is truly evil is to cut them open and see if their blood runs black.” Her gaze shifts over to where San is lying on the floor. “Her blood is red, Sannie, which makes her an innocent. Even better for me because now I get to make you watch me take an innocent’s life. Because of you did. How dramatic.”

San writhes against the boot on top of him, shaking his head as best he can.

“Don’t. Don’t hurt her. God, please don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything. Yo-You can take me. T-Take me, torture me, use me as a weapon, kill me. Anything. Anything you want, Cara. Please. Please don’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve this, she’s innocent. This has nothing to do with her. This is between you and me, please. Just let her go and don’t hurt her.” San’s voice is desperate and pleading, the small stutters in his tone only serving to cause your heart to plummet further. You try to shake your response, calling out behind the gag in attempts to tell him no. Cara hesitates. She twirls the knife again.

“That’s a hefty promise,” she mutters. The smirk never leaves her lips. “I can take that deal with ease though. No questions asked.”

You cry out again around the gag as though it will change her mind. She turns to you and yanks the cloth of your gag down to your neck. She stops there though, not moving to touch the ropes binding your body to the chair.

“All you want is for me not to hurt her?” Cara quirks a brow, then motions for someone to come to her side.

You don’t see it coming. A fist connects with the side of your head, and your vision blurs. You cry out at the sudden impact, the shock of it startling you more than the pain itself.

“Stop! You said we had a deal!” San shouts, thrashing against the ground.

“I’m doing exactly what you wanted, Sannie!” Cara laughs, lifting her hands above her head to accentuate her words. She passes the knife over to your new attacker. “I’m not hurting her. Not myself, at least. And that’s what you asked for.”

“You knew what I fucking meant!” San growls. “Yo–”

Whatever he was going to say next is cut off by a cry of pain falling from your lips. The knife drags over the other side of your collarbone, and you twist away from the blade to no avail.

“I’m going to fucking kill you. I’ll murder you, you wo–”

“You should behave,” Cara sighs, picking at one of her nails with little interest. “Otherwise, your cute little friend here is going to end up in strips because of all the cuts. This isn’t a negotiation. There are no terms I’ll accept. There is nothing you can do. This is torture, Sannie. You are going to sit there and watch every second of it. No begging will make it stop. Because thanks to you, I had to sit and watch man after man suffer at your hands. At the captain’s hands. Your hands doing what the captain asked. People who were my crewmates. The moment they faltered – even breathed the wrong way around the captain – who was it who was tasked to exact punishment after punishment?”

Silence greets her. The knife digs into your skin.

“Who was it who killed each and every single one of them, Sannie?”

A small cry of pain leaves you, growing louder and louder as your attacker pushes harder.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

The knife leaves your body, only to return seconds later with another shallow slice over your collarbone.

“Me! It was me!” San yells, voice breaking as he says the words.

“There we go. It was you. It was always you. But the one who had to haul away the bodies was me. I had to haul away the bodies of my comrades who did nothing wrong. Funny how they always called me the Taskmaster and yet you were the sadistic torturer. How fucking ironic, right? Well, now you get to taste it.”

Another shallow cut burning like fire across your skin.

“You get to know what that feels like and how badly it hurts,” Cara continues, admiring the work on your skin with a thin-lipped smile. “You get to watch it happen, Sannie, and not be able to do anything about it. Just like I did. And once she’s dead – once the sweet little Ghost is dead – you will get to haul her body off and live with the pain of reality. You get to turn her body into the military while I collect the prize money. Do you think that’s fair, Sannie?”

“N-No, fuc–fuck no! It’s not!” San refuses in a heartbeat. Cara reels on him, fists balling up at her sides

“Of fucking course it isn’t! Because it wasn’t fair when you did it to me. Why should it be fair to you?” Cara shifts and faces you once more. You take the opportunity to spat on her feet, making certain to hit her shoes when she steps closer to you. The action doesn’t please the woman in the slightest; she snatches her knife back from the man at your side. You merely taunt her by baring your neck to her, a flat expression and confidence in your eyes. No words tumble from your lips.

It isn’t a knife that hits you next. Rather, it is the back of Cara’s hand that smacks against your cut cheek with enough force to cause the chair to wobble under you.

“You are nothing but a cocky little shit who has no place in the universe,” she sneers.

“I learned that a long time ago, you bitch,” you hiss back. “You aren’t sharing any big news.”

As you speak the words, something clatters and a loud thud resounds from above you. Everyone halts and glances up at the ceiling. Cara and her men all look concerned beyond belief, but you can’t help but to laugh at their expressions. Frankly, you imagine that Hongjoong has finally caught up to you, although he’s quite a bit delayed at this rate.

“Out!” Cara orders, pointing towards the doors of the building with her knife. “All of you, get out there! Scope out the surroundings and figure out what the fuck is going on out there! Take care of it quickly, and if need be, leave no survivors. I don’t want to be fucking interrupted.”

All the men surrounding you and San file out of the building at her command, no hesitation in their steps. Their departure doesn’t provide any relief for the worry and anxiety bubbling in your gut. Cara wraps around the side of your chair then brings up a tall boot. She kicks you in the ribs, causing you to topple over and hit the floor in a similar position to San. Her hands grip the back of the chair. She drags you across the cold, dirty floor with little effort. She only stops when you’re about two feet from where San is positioned. As much as he tries to move, he can’t pull himself forward at all, leaving him stuck where he is while Cara puts you right where she wants you.

You feel utterly helpless. Unable to move and fight back, you can’t even find the heart to rile her up with your words. She places you directly across from San so that he can clearly see everything she does, then kneels down by your side to look over at the man. San doesn’t look back at her though; his eyes are on you and you alone, and you take it as an opportunity to mouth a few words to him through the panic.

It’s going to be okay.

You don’t know if it’s the truth, you don’t know how this will end, you know nothing at all except for the panic running through you. You can settle for the small white lie, however, only because it reassures you a little bit to mouth the words to San. He doesn’t respond and instead glances away to look up at Cara again as she walks around your form, but not before swallowing roughly. It’s enough acknowledgment for you to know that he saw what you said.

Cara swings the point of her boot into San’s gut. He groans from the contact, trying to curl into himself but he can’t thanks to the damn ropes around him. Her foot swings into his stomach again. All you can see is the way San’s chest heaves as he attempts to recover from the attacks.

“My men should’ve put you through more hell before bringing you here.” Cara releases a deep heave of breath then returns to your fallen body, toying with the knife as she smiles down at you. “Where to begin with this pretty little bird? Now that we’re all alone, we can have so much fun.” San’s eyes narrow on her, the emotion in them more nervous than angry or murderous now.

The knife breaks through your thigh. It cuts the fabric apart like it’s paper, as well as the skin underneath. She maintains the shallow pinpricks rather than deep cuts, and you suppose you ought to be grateful for that, but you know you won’t be grateful if she continues to do it. A hiss passes through your lips, and you look away from San so that he doesn’t have to see the pained expression on your face. Cara despises that movement though. She bends down to grip your chin.

“Fucking look at him or it’s his leg getting cut next,” she spits, stray saliva hitting your cheek. You let your cheek fall to the floor so that you can look at San again, too afraid that she will hurt San worse than you if you don’t listen.

“S-Stop,” San exhales, tone shaky and desperate even with one word. He continues with a bit of difficulty, licking the edges of his lips before talking again. “Yo-You don’t have to do this. We can – we can come to an agreement. Work something out, I know we can do something that wi–”

The knife slices through your leg again with harder force. You bite down hard on your lip to muffle the scream that nearly spills out.

“Please! P-Please, Cara, please, I–”

“There is nothing to discuss. I have made my decision and this is it.”

San squirms and tries to move across the floor again.

“You can torture me. Pl-Please. You can torture me as much as you want if you just let her go.”

“Are you fucking deaf, Sannie?” Cara laughs, the sound a disbelieving one. “This is your torture. I am torturing you by making you watch this. Every.” Another slice, lower than the last. “Single.” One more that intersects with the last. “Cut.” A third cut, this one vertical against your thigh. You bite down so hard on your lip that it draws blood. In that moment you dare to look over at San but regret it instantly.

His whole body trembles under the ropes, lip nearly quivering as tears spill from his eyes and fall over the bridge of his nose and to the floor.

“Please stop. J-Just stop, please – please stop this. I-I…” San trails off, unable to look up any longer. His chin falls to his chest. “I n-never did this to any of them. None of the crew. I - I didn’t want to be cruel. I just… I was only following orders, that’s all. I was only doing what I was told to do. I swear. I swear I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I really didn’t. I have nightmares about it every night, I-I never wanted to do it. You have to b-believe me.”

“You’ve lost the opportunity to explain whatever happened. What’s done is done. There is no apologizing or backtracking. There is no forgiveness. Don’t you understand that, Sannie?” Cara jams the knife into your thigh all of the sudden, ignoring her previous pattern of shallow cuts and burying a good quarter of the blade into your leg.

“O-Oh god,” you choke out, a large wave of nausea sweeping over you as you see the knife go into your leg.

“Y/N! Y/N, look at me. Please just look at me,” San pleads, and you pull yourself up to look him in the eye. The nausea is making you a bit dizzy, and San’s face swirls into three different ones until the wave passes over you. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I promise. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

Cara huffs upon hearing San’s words. She jerks the knife and yanks it out of your leg harshly, leaving you to scream against your shoulder. The pain burns and throbs, coursing through your whole system until you can feel sweat beading on your brow.

“St-Stop! Cara, Cara, please!” San pleads again as you cry out. The Berserker doesn’t listen to a word he’s saying, the desperate pleas fall on deaf ears, and she leans over San.

“You’re having too much fun with this, Sannie. Too vocal. I should fix that.” Cara huffs a laugh, glancing over the knife before deciding to plunge it into San’s side. The knife buries all the way to the hilt in the patch up flesh just above his right hip. If you thought your screams of pain were bad, San’s is beyond comprehension. The sound of his screaming triggers something in you, flips a switch, and you lose the last bits of control you had over your emotions.

You don’t think twice before letting your abilities slip through, and you tug at the ropes behind your back while Cara is still bent over San. The effort of trying to use them causes your head to spin even more, but you muster up enough energy to push one wrist through the ropes. That’s all you need too, because you use that free hand to pull the other loose then tear at the ropes around your ankles. Cara is still preoccupied with San but she will notice your movements at any second.

Your heart pounds against the cage of your chest as you rush to pull yourself loose. Cara slowly pulls the blade out of San’s stomach, a sickening squelch resounding as blood pours forth, and she starts to stand up straight again. You twist the leftover rope around the palms of your hands and pounce on Cara’s back as best you can. You misjudge how much pain your leg is in though, and the searing fire that blossoms across your leg causes your jump to miss slightly. You don’t manage to get the rope over her head, so you settle for tossing it around her body and tangling her in the mess. It gives you just enough time to drag yourself over to San’s body, sliding behind him and pulling at the ropes around him.

San writhes in pain, unable to help you get the ropes off of his body, and Cara is nearly unraveled herself from your makeshift trap. Just as you tug his ankles free, Cara comes down on the two of you. She swings the knife down at San rather than at you. You don’t think, operating on instinct only, and your hand flies up to stop her attack from the side.

The side of the knife hits your hand. You ignore the blossoming pain that burns your palm; instead, you grip the weapon tighter and push back against her. Cara’s eyes go wide at the action and the deadly expression across your features. She stumbles backward in attempts to get away from you, but her feet catch on one of the loose ropes and she falls back to the floor. You squeeze the handle of the knife with your other hand and walk in her direction ever so slowly. The slow movements startle her further, causing the Berserker to scramble back as you draw closer.

“What the fuck are you?” She snarls. Your lips quirk upwards at her words. Your left foot drags along the ground as you pull yourself towards her. There is only adrenaline running through your veins, the pain is almost nonexistent, but you know that won’t last for long so you move as quickly as you can.

“I’m merely a ghost,” you huff out. “Here one minute and gone the next. Which is what is going to happen to you soon enough.”

You back her into a corner, her back hits a wall, and she has nowhere to go. You lunge forward and drive the knife she used on you and San into her shin. A cry of pain falls from her lips. The sound spurs you on, causing you to tilt your head to the side in question.

“What? Is this not a fun game for you? You were enjoying it so much not too long ago. Do you not enjoy it not?” You taunt as you twist the blade in her.

“Y-You’re a fucking – fucking psychopath.”

The smile returns to your lips. You pull the knife out of her leg with haste then move forward so that you can squat down in front of her.

“I’ve heard that before too,” you mutter as you twirl the knife in your grasp. The smile coating your lips dissipates. “But only by the people who deserve their fates.”

You cease your toying with the weapon and lift it high above your head, ready to send it cascading down into Cara’s chest. Just as your arm starts to come down, someone catches you by the wrist. You jerk to look over your shoulder. It’s San who stands behind you. San who has caught your hand with one of his own covered in blood. His other hand lingers over the wound in his side that is still bleeding quite profusely. There is a stagger to his breaths, chest shaky as he inhales and exhales, and a hunch to his back that shows how hard it is to hold himself up. Again, the sight of him in that state flips a switch in you.

It’s like someone has yanked a dark veil away from your eyes. Reality seeps back in and fills the cracks in your mind. In that moment, San is all you see and all you know. You drop the knife with a small gasp, unsure of what just came over you and caused you to lose control in such a way.

“D-Don’t kill he-her,” San says, lowering your arm to his side.

“Wh–”

You don’t need to finish the question because San releases you and stoops to pick up the knife you just dropped. He grips it tight, bloodied fingers sliding over the hilt without purchase.

“Turn around.”

“I-I… wh-why?” You stammer. Your feet carry you backward though, even though you mind questions it. Cara makes her presence known again and releases a weak laugh. She doesn’t move from her spot on the floor though, eyes tracking San with such scrutiny that you would crumble under that gaze.

“I should’ve known this would be my fate,” she murmurs. Her chin lifts a little. “Don’t be a coward when you do it, Sannie. If you’re going to kill me, then you should at least do it right and give me a proper sendoff.”

“Y/N, turn around.”

“I-I don’t need to though.”

San reels on you with sudden strength to his movements. You flinch at the sight of the emotion in his eyes and the quiver of his lower lip. You know it’s not from the exhaustion of the wound. That much is easy to see. He doesn’t want you to see him do it. After what Cara revealed and the shame that burned San’s words, you understand why. So, you respect his wishes, nod a few times, and pull back to turn around and face the opposite wall.

A few seconds of terse silence pass. You don’t even dare to breathe, just focusing on the adrenaline that is seeping out of your body and leaving pain in its wake. Then – a small gasp, a quick inhalation of air, and… nothing.

You don’t turn around yet though. Something about the air feels odd and sacred, and if you turn around now, you would be disturbing that peace.

“May your journey to the next life treat you well, Taskmaster of The Eurydice,” San says in a quiet tone, only audible because of the silence in the building. A breath of hesitation then – “And may you rot in hell for all you’ve done.”

The words are spoken with a finality, like the ending line of a chapter in a book. San immediately begins to shuffle around. It leaves you to wonder what the hell he’s doing behind you, and as much as you want to turn around, you want to wait until he tells you it’s okay to do so. After a few minutes, San approaches you at last. He taps your arm, fingers brushing your elbow, and you twist to look at his face.

“It’s over…” He remains hunched from his wound and keeps a hand over it in efforts to halt the blood flow. You reach down to touch the hand there, but San pulls away from you in an instant. “Don’t. I-I – I don’t want you to touch me. Now that… now that you know what I did. Who I was. What kind of person I used to be. W-Who my captain made me to be. The th-things he made me do. I – the extent of my captain’s hold on me and how damn easy it was for me to do those horrible things. I don’t want you… I don’t want to taint you with that.”

“San…”

“I remember every single damn face from that crew,” he continues as though you didn’t speak at all. “I remember them all. I know them by heart. The ones I tortured and killed merely because my captain didn’t like the way something was done. The pure hatred I operated with: the reasoning that since they were awful and abused me, then it was okay to hurt them. I remember their faces. Their names. What they begged for in their last moments. Mercy… it was always mercy. I-I can’t get away from it no matter how hard I try. It’s in my dreams every fucking night.”

San stops to look back to where Cara’s body is. His jaw stutters as he look over there. Then he sinks to his knees and a pained sob tears through his chest. You slide down to join him, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your leg as you move and just focus on San and San alone. Despite his insistence that you don’t touch him, you reach out and place a bloodied hand over his thigh. He doesn’t stop you.

“It didn’t help,” he whispers, eyes stuck the hand that isn’t pressed to his stab wound. He flexes his fingers and curls them into a fist. “It was supposed to help but it didn’t. I-I… it didn’t do anything. Why does it hurt so fucking much? I-I should’ve – I’m the one who should’ve–”

You refuse to let him finish that sentence, a surge of panic rushing through your body as you hear the implications in his words. Your hand darts up to grip his shoulder tight.

“It gets worse before it gets better,” you respond. If it’s supposed to be encouraging, you think you’ve failed in every way because how the hell is that reassuring in the slightest. San apparently feels the same way because a scream rips through his lips, startling you with the volume and suddenness of the sound.

“I don’t want it to get better! I want it gone!”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you pull his body against yours. “I’m so sorry, San. I-I wish I knew. I wish I knew how to help but I don’t and I’m sorry for that.” Your left hand maintains its position on your thigh, squeezing tight around the injury there. You pull back a little to motion down at San’s wound. “I need to take care of that, San. I need to put pressure on it to keep it from bleeding out more. You – you don’t have the strength to maintain it, okay? Just let me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

San doesn’t seem to hear you, however, and even as you try to look him in the eye, his gaze is unfocused.

“You did well, Y/N,” he says. The words cause a spike of panic. “Remember that.”

It sounds too much like he’s saying goodbye. You can’t stand it, you can’t breathe, you can’t function. Everything bleeds into one blinding shade of white. You press San again.

“Let me take care of your wound, San. Please?”

His response is nothing again, and his body goes limp against yours. You can’t stop the strangled sob that leaves your lips. Your hands tremble as you lower San to the ground, placing him flat against it. You grab for his wrist and neck in a desperate attempt to find a pulse. Another sob leaves you as you find it, a rapid pace that is anything but normal. His skin is clammy and cold to the touch. You don’t know much about medicine or anything in that area, but they did teach you how to recognize the symptoms of shock during your military training. San has to be going into shock, but you have no clue how to stop it and halt the process.

Your head swims, spots filling the edge of your vision as you rush to get to the other side of San’s body where his wound resides. You can’t put proper pressure on both your leg and San’s wound; it’s either one or the other, and with a small cry of pain you choose to press against San’s abdomen instead of your thigh. There’s no telling how long you can hold this position, or how long it is until you pass out yourself, but your sheer willpower is the only thing keeping you going right now.

Noise resounds from outside the building. You pad around for your gun only to realize that you don’t have it. An exhausted sigh falls from your lips.

Is this really how I’m going to go out? A failure even on the brink of death?

Bright sunlight suddenly enters the warehouse, and you lift a hand from San’s stomach to block your eyes from the brightness. Three shadowy figures walk inside with arms out, no doubt holding guns. You swallow the lump in your throat – or at least try to – and prepare yourself for the worst.

“H-Holy fuck.”

The words don’t come from you or San, but the voice is familiar. It almost sounds like Seonghwa, and your assumptions are confirmed when the figure on the left rushes forward and comes into view. It is in fact Seonghwa, and you nearly cry from relief as he comes to kneel beside you. Hongjoong comes into view as well, but he moves straight past you to get to San. Seonghwa reaches out to you, holstering his gun, and pulls himself a bit closer to you. You make an attempt to speak but your jaw just stutters and nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at Seonghwa dumbly with your jaw hanging wide open.

“Shh, shh,” Seonghwa shushes as you make a strangled noise. “You did a good job, Y/N. You did well.”

You shake your head, the movements frantic and without cease until Seonghwa presses a hand against the wound on your thigh. He looks you dead in the eye.

“You did well, Y/N. You did what was asked of you and more.”

You can’t muster up the energy to respond with words so you just nod. Glancing past his shoulder, you catch sight of the third figure coming into view. It’s Mingi but he lingers several feet away without coming closer or saying anything. Hongjoong remains bent over San, his hands moving frantically over his bloodied wound.

“M–Mingi, come closer. I need your help.” The stutter in his tone doesn’t escape anyone’s notice. If you had more energy, you might care to think about it more, but as it is, you can’t tear your mind away from San’s state and your exhaustion.

You try to pull yourself up, but Seonghwa keeps you to the ground with the hand on your thigh.

“I’ll follow with Y/N. Just take care of San right now.”

Hongjoong nods as Mingi comes forward.

“We’ll get San to a clinic as fast as possible. You know the one.”

“San is a fighter. He’ll be okay,” Seonghwa reassures. Hongjoong musters up a grin but it holds little emotion in it.

“I know that, Lieutenant.” Mingi reaches Hongjoong’s side, towering over the captain as he stands next to him, then he moves to pick San up. There is a sense of defeat that fills your body as you watch the tall Berserker lifts San’s all too limp body with ease. The lingering pain of knowing that you could do nothing but watch as Cara hurt him, nothing as she attacked you, and even afterward you could do nothing but apologize for not knowing what to do. It leaves the bitter taste of failure in your mouth. You watch Mingi situate San in his arms, pressing a large hand over the wound that still pours blood, and Hongjoong leads them out of the warehouse. Seonghwa follows their movements with his eyes, only pulling back to look at you once they’re completely out of sight.

“When d-did you get he-here?” Your words slur together a little bit, and Seongwha cracks a small smile.

“Don’t exert yourself any more than you already have, okay?” He shifts you, and you let him lay you down on your back only for him to scoop you up with little effort. The arm under your knees slides up so he can press his palm over your wound. “Mingi and I arrived not too long ago. Hongjoong called us up to a rooftop. He said that both you and San disappeared around the same time. He didn’t see or hear it happen, but he assumed you’d been caught. Suppose he figured correctly.” Seonghwa grunts as he gets to his feet, hoisting you further up against him. He doesn’t move at the same breakneck pace that Hongjoong and Mingi had on their way out of the warehouse. “There’s a clinic that should be able to help you both relatively quickly. It’s not too far away if you can just hold out a little while longer.”

“I-I’m not sure…” You murmur as you bring an arm up around Seonghwa’s back. “I have a knack for getting hurt and passing out, I think.”

“I already don’t you to shush, did I not? Don’t try talking or you’ll make it worse.” Seonghwa glances over your face. “You get hurt because you’re reckless. You just the gun too quickly, lack patience, think with your heart and not your head. You pass out because you didn’t take the time to regain your strength after your arm was shot and you had the surgery. Your body can’t keep up the way it used to because of that.”

You want to retort but can’t find the energy to so you just grumble and roll your eyes instead. Seonghwa continues to speak but this time he returns to answering your first question.

“We dispatched of a group on top of the roof. One started falling so Mingi tried to grab him, but it caused a bunch of noise. More came out to see what was going on. It took us a while to finish them all off.” Seonghwa’s expression shifts, lips turning into a frown. “We could hear you… in the warehouse. Both you and San screaming.” His hold on you tightens a bit before he continues with more hesitance. “When it went quiet, I thought that meant th–”

“San is alive,” you interrupt, a desperate attempt to keep him from finishing that train of thought. “Don’t worry.”

Seonghwa bites his lower lip as he looks down at you, voice quiet when he decides to speak again.

“I was worried about you too.”

You opt not to respond. Even if you knew what to say, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

“Will you be okay if I run?” Seonghwa asks, hastening his pace a little before you answer.

“Y-Yea, go for it.”

Seonghwa breaks into a sprint as you give him permission. Despite his haste, it still isn’t quick enough to catch up to Hongjoong and Mingi, and you don’t even see their forms ahead of you in the streets. They must be moving much faster than Seonghwa to be that far ahead already. Given San’s state though, you don’t blame them.

San is all you can think about yourself. While there is the panic and worry over whether he’s okay and alive, there is more to it than that as well. You really know nothing about medical things; you can tell when a wound looks bad and that’s about the extent of your knowledge. You know two things about San’s wound: the knife went to the hilt in him, and there was an ungodly amount of blood. Cara didn’t just cut him up a little like she did with you. She went in full force with the intent to kill, and you’re worried that she may get what she wants postmortem.

You wish you had the energy to huff out a laugh, but you can barely manage to keep your head up at this point. You can never catch a break; there’s always something that you have to worry about. Always running, fleeing, fighting – you can’t even stop to breathe for two seconds before something else is happening. Part of you wonders how long it’s going to last, how long you have to keep running for. You could just go back home and live out the rest of your days there in the hopes that no one will find you, but there are too many memories tied to that place. Yet you want to rest. You’re so fucking tired of all this, and you just want to try having a calm life for once. You need to rest.

Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing a huff of air. You glance around as the regular hustle and bustle of the streets hits your ears. It’s a vaguely familiar sight, just enough for you to know that you’re back in the area you started in. Seonghwa slows his pace some and peels off to a side alleyway rather than pushing through the crowds. He wraps around the buildings with steady steps until you reach an unmarked door with a hanging sign above it. He doesn’t give you the chance to read the words on the sign, pushing into the building with his back.

An old man is the first to greet you, seated behind a rickety wooden desk with his chin to his chest. He glances up when you come in though.

“The primary doctor is busy with a patient who was just brought in,” he says when Seonghwa approaches the desk. “Our secondary doctor is treating someone with an illness right now, but you can wait around five minutes for her to be free.”

“Okay, thank you.” Seonghwa nods a few times then pulls back to carry you to a row of chairs on the opposite wall. He sets you down and eases you onto one of the chairs, hands cradling your elbows as you move. Rather than going to sit beside you though, he kneels in front of you and examines your thigh. He peels back the cut up fabric, soaked with crimson blood, and exposes your wounds to the air. The blood has stopped oozing so profusely, beginning to clot a little. You can barely see past the mess of crimson, but there are a total of five cuts on your leg. Seonghwa glances up, eyes landing on the cuts along your collarbone as well. He thumbs over the skin with a gentle touch and makes sure not to irritate them further. Then his eyes go to your cheek where the first cut is. His expression is unreadable as he pulls himself up and sits down beside you.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, barely managing to smile. Seonghwa laughs a little, and the corners of his lips curl upwards.

“Oh, nothing much. Just thinking about the weather, of course.”

Your smile stretches a bit more at his joking comment.

“San is going to be okay, Y/N.”

“Y-Yea…” Your voice doesn’t sound confident though, and you don’t know if it’s because of how exhausted and drained you are or if it’s because of something else. Seonghwa doesn’t press you any further than that; your lack of engagement must be enough to deter him from talking more. He just places a hand on your right thigh and lets it rest against the bloodied fabric. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, eyes looking anywhere except at each other. You still can’t wrap your mind fully around reality. Everything that just happened just seems so unreal that you don’t want it to be real. The blood on your hands doesn’t go away, however, and neither does the dull ache in your chest.

A curtain to the right shifts all of a sudden, and Hongjoong and Mingi step out from behind it. Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh squeezes a little tighter as he looks over his captain’s dismal expression. Hongjoong ignores him, however, and comes to step in front of you. You brace yourself for the worst, gnawing on the inside of your lip while staring up at him in anticipation.

“You were reckless, careless, arrogant, foolish, and idiotic, among other things like disobedient, stupid, and childish.”

All you can do is nod in confirmation. He isn’t wrong in the slightest, neither was Seonghwa earlier when he called you out for similar things. Hongjoong sticks a hand out in front of you, exposing his forearm and palm to the ceiling. You don’t know what he’s expecting or what to do for many seconds. You blink between his arm and his face without speaking until a sigh falls from his lips.

“Just take it before I change my damn mind,” he grumbles. Realization dawns on you, and you reach out to clasp your bloody fingers around his forearm. He pulls you to your feet with that same grip. Your eyes meet. “Thank you for protecting and saving San, and for doing what I couldn’t do.”

You open your mouth to respond, but words don’t come out. Nor do you have the chance to come up with any sort of reply because a woman peeks out from behind another current beside the one Hongjoong and Mingi walked out of.

“I’m ready for the next patient!”

Seonghwa stands up with you, and you take that as your invitation to go over to the woman. His hand finds your lower back, ready to lift you into his arms again.

“I can walk fine on my own,” you mutter. Part of you doesn’t want to seem weak in front of Hongjoong now, especially since he just told you he somewhat respects you for what you did for San. Seonghwa isn’t affected by your comment though; he just laughs and lifts you regardless.

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors with that ego,” he says once you’re out of Hongjoong’s earshot. You press your lips into a frown but don’t say anything. Seonghwa takes you back to the doctor’s room. She motions towards a chair in the center of the room, and Seonghwa sets you down in it for her. You expect him to head out immediately and return to Hongjoong’s side, but instead, he lingers beside the chair, placing a hand on the back of it near your shoulder.

“Oh wow, quite a few cuts.” The doctor hums to herself and moves closer to you. She checks your cheek first then moves down to your collarbone. “These aren’t deep, but they’ll need just a little cleaning and dressing. Put some patches over them to keep them covered for the time being, but they should heal easy. Awkward places for certain, but easy to fix.”

She pulls back and moves for a counter, snagging a bottle of clear liquid and some white patches. You know it’s alcohol the second she uncorks the bottle and the scent hits you, but the sting of it against your skin draws a hiss from your lips. She continues to clean the cuts, then pulls out a roll of tape to dress the cuts further. Seonghwa’s hand slips down to your shoulder, squeezing it tight when you release another hiss of pain.

The doctor dips down to your thigh after securing the last gauze patch to your cheek. She peels back the cut fabric like Seonghwa did earlier, then another hum passes through her lips.

“I can’t really access the cuts too well with your pants on. Do you happen do have a spare set of pants around?” She asks the question with a smile playing at her lips, no doubt realizing the ridiculousness of it.

“N-No,” you answer with a similar smile of your own.

“We can get some,” Seonghwa interjects, pulling his hand back from your shoulder. “I mean, we were going to regardless because hers are a mess, but I can go now to get them. I’ll just estimate your size, if that’s okay.”

“Perfect, that would be great! I’m going to need a bit of help pulling these off first before you go, if you’d please–”

“I’m sure we can handle it,” you interrupt, smile growing shaky at the thought. Seonghwa nods in agreement immediately.

“I’ll be back shortly then.” He moves back to the curtain and disappears behind it, leaving you with the doctor.

“Let’s get you up first,” she says as she grabs hold of your elbows and pulls you to your feet. “Oh, your hand is cut too! I didn’t even notice it with all the blood. Here, let’s get you over to the sink and wash that off first.” She guides you over to the counter she was working at earlier, running hot water over your hands. You know that not all of it is your blood, that San’s blood is on your hands as well, and that not all of it is front the thin slice over your palm. The doctor pulls your hand out from under the water and towels it dry. You just watch her movements with little interest, squeezing your fingers around the white gauze she wraps around your palm. Once she pulls back, she motions down at your pants.

It’s difficult to do on your own, a painful process that has you ready to fall over by the end of it, but you manage to tug the pants off and expose the cuts along your thigh completely. You don’t wait for her to tell you to sit back down either and just do it on your own. The cuts look far worse than they did when you had your pants on, one much deeper than the other papercut-like ones around it. When the doctor presses her alcohol-covered pad over your leg, it hurts ten times worse than it did before. You fight through the pain by biting down on the tip of your tongue. Once the blood is all wiped away, the cuts don’t look nearly as bad as before, except for the one deeper one.

“A few minor cuts and one deeper one. You won’t need stitches or anything like that, but I will go ahead and do a skin adhesive liquid stitch just to be safe on that deeper cut. Then I’ll wrap you up in some gauze and put a little medicine there to fend off infection. Surgical tape after to secure it in place, okay?”

“Sounds good,” you murmur as she begins to collect the supplies.

“Keep it clean and treat it often if you can! That’s the key to recovery.”

You watch her work with disinterested eyes. At this point, it doesn’t hurt much after that alcohol horror. The exhaustion is catching up to you with haste, and you mostly feel numb all over at this point. Everything is catching up on you actually, and you really want to find any bed available and sleep for days. Blinking down at your trembling fingers, you recall how you were able to use your abilities earlier but only after hearing San scream. You weren’t able to use them with Cara yesterday though when you were fighting for your own damn life, and you can’t reconcile why that’s the case. The only thing you are certain of is the fact that most of your exhaustion is stemming from the use of your powers because that’s always the thing that takes the most energy out of you.

The doctor before you seals the deep cut with the liquid stitches she spoke about then wraps up your thigh with more white gauze and secures it with several strips of surgical tape.

“As good as new, huh?” She jokes as she smiles up at you. You crack a smile yourself and nod in agreement. Seonghwa comes in just as she’s finishing up with the taping, a new pair of pants in hand. When the doctor leans away, you stand up to take them from him, and he meets you halfway.

“Thank you,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes as you take the clothes from him.

You’re determined to at least clothe yourself without help, but that proves to be too much for you as well and you stumble when you try to pull the pants up. Both the doctor and Seonghwa reach out to catch you, but Seonghwa reaches you first. He grabs hold of your arm and steadies you while you continue to pull the pants on with a grumbled “I’m fine” under your breath.

“Thank you for all your help.” You turn to the doctor who just smiles in response.

“Look after those cuts! You should heal up nicely without too much scarring if you keep an eye on them.”

Seonghwa’s hand returns to your lower back, but he doesn’t move to pick you up this time. He lets you walk out of the room on your own, staying close to your side just in case you stumble again. Hongjoong and Mingi are still in the lobby when you exit, perched in the chairs that you and Seonghwa were on earlier, and both men wear deadpan expressions as you pass by them. Seonghwa doesn’t stop to talk to Hongjoong; instead, he guides you out of the clinic and back into the streets of the city. You don’t question it, and there’s no need to because Seonghwa turns to explain it to you after the door snaps shut behind you.

“We’ll stay in the hotel for another night per Hongjoong’s orders. Just the two of us this time though. Hongjoong and Mingi will wait in the clinic for news on San.” Your expression must crumble because Seonghwa pats your back with the hand there. “I know you want to wait with them but you need rest. I want to wait too but taking care of you is my priority right now, whether you like it or not. You went through hell, Y/N.”

“Okay…” You mumbles, eyes darting away from Seonghwa’s concerned ones.

“He’ll be okay. I promise you that. San is a fighter, and he won’t let anything keep him down. Especially not something like this.” You can only nod in agreement with Seonghwa’s words without knowing for certain whether they’re true or not. Perhaps it’s a desperate need for some sense of comfort, but as Seonghwa guides you back to the hotel, you grab for his hand, awkwardly brushing over his thigh before his hand slips from your back to envelop yours with warmth. He threads his fingers through yours and squeezes tightly without stopping to ask why. The reason is clear enough.

His hand remains in yours all the way to the hotel, only pulling back to open the door for you to step through. Similar to the first time you were in here, you linger near the door as Seonghwa approaches the counter and talks with the man behind it. Your throat feels tight. Seonghwa is right in saying that you need the rest but so much worry nags at your gut that you don’t know if you’ll be able to get any whatsoever. Your thoughts are just full of San. San, San, San.

Seonghwa returns to your side, silently taking your hand in his again and pulling you towards the stairs. It’s that nagging sensation of failure and incapability that overwhelms you as he helps you climb the stairs. If you had done things right, San wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t have gotten caught. You wouldn’t have gotten caught either. You would’ve gotten to San before they did and talked him out of it. Kept him from doing something he would regret. Even with your warning, he still carried through with it, but you could have prevented it. You should have. Should have done better and worked harder to prevent it from happening.

You don’t feel the tears hit your cheeks. It’s Seonghwa who notices them first as you reach the top of the stairs, his hands flying up to cup your cheeks and brush the crystalline drops away with his thumbs. Still, he doesn’t speak, but that silence offers no reassurance in the slightest. He pulls you through the door of the first room on the left – the same one you stayed in the night before with San – and that makes it even harder to go inside. Your expression remains flat and blank as you cry, no sobs fall from your lips, it’s only the tears that fall against your will. Seonghwa continues to brush them away without complaint and he moves you to sit on the edge of the bed while he squats in front of you, hands never leaving your face. He’s speaking to you, offering reassurance and comfort, but every word goes in one ear and out the other. All you can think about it what San said to you right before passing out on top of you.

“You did well, Y/N. Remember that.”

Those words ring in your ears. The person you’ve been trying to save, the one who took the fall for you, the person this has all been for – the fighting, the running, the killing, the damn papers – he said the exact same thing before walking to his death before the King of Eros.

✧✧✧ a/n: jfc cal 10.7k?!??! i know i know i pulled a fast one on you guys and hit the pedal so hard we’re gassing it okay?! also this chapter is a bit intense for sure and full of stuff and information and hints and easter eggs and all that but omg i hope you guys like it, i think it’s been the one i enjoyed writing the most so far mostly because i am sO excited to write the next part after this that im losing my mind skldfjlkdsfj anyway let me know what you think and all those juicy theories !!!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @yayhei @haotheheckk @noonawriter

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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gloster · 3 years

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FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs.

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate.

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them.

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart.

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813 (sheith)

Summary: After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever.

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos.

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that.

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions:

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary: When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that.

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09 into that ship.

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way.

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter.

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary: Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number.

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came.

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it.

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that.

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing.

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good.

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another.

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me.

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1 (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

121 notes · View notes

bedlamsbard · 3 years

Text

Part 13 of the other side AU concept! I am going to eventually pull these apart into parts one (Devil’s in the Details) and two (Carry the Fire) and do edits/rewrites to the extent they meet my standards for going up on AO3 as chaptered, titled fics, but I don’t currently have the mental and emotional energy for that. (Have you...met January 2021?) In the meantime here are my in-progress playlists, if there’s interest: Devil’s in the Details and Carry the Fire.

About 5.8K below the break.

Zeb got up to keep watch, since he had the best ears of the group; Kanan took his place on the tree root and Ezra leaned back to keep his head tipped against Kanan’s knee, barely able to comprehend that single point of connection. Kanan’s presence radiated through the Force with startling solidity, as if after years of shadows someone had suddenly turned on a light in a dark room. Ezra had to fight back his urge to roll around in that strength like an overjoyed Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

“I don’t know exactly what happened when the Chimaera went down,” he said eventually. He hesitated, not wanting to get into the fact that at the time he had still been locked in his cell. He didn’t think he could get away without telling them that at all, but he didn’t want to lead off with it if he could help it. “I wasn’t up in the bridge – Thrawn and Pellaeon didn’t really want me near anything important. What I heard later was that the Vong tricked the Scylla and the Charybdis – they’re the only other ships left in the Seventh – into leaving the Chimaera, and once the cruisers were out of reach they hit the Chimaera with everything they had. Their ships aren’t like ours,” he added slowly. “They’re living things, for one – I have no idea how that works. They’re not shielded, but they’ve got some kind of – of miniature black holes that move around on their ships, swallowing up most shots before they can get through at all. Dovin basals, that’s what they call them. TIE pilots don’t know how to deal with them – ship gunners either, for that matter. I don’t know how they work; the Chimaera’s scientists were trying to figure it out.”

He glanced over at Sabine in time to see her eyebrows snap together, obviously trying to work it out for herself without even having seen one. She still had the piece of broken beskar in her hand, like she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to it.

“The Chimaera had already taken a lot of damage by the time the Vong started boarding,” Ezra went on slowly. “Zafira – that’s the death trooper captain – let me out around then, but I was never on the bridge or anything. I guess Thrawn had the idea that the Vong ships might not be able to survive in atmosphere since they’re alive and they live in space, so he started bringing the Chimaera down into the planet’s atmosphere.”

Sabine whistled softly. “Did it work?”

Ezra shrugged. “You saw the Chimaera.” He was quiet for a moment, remembering the desperate battle in the narrow corridors of the star destroyers – lights flickering as power was cut off, then restored, emergency notifications about hull breaches still blaring out absurdly over the sound of blasterfire and Vong war cries. He would have given his right hand for his lightsaber.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and went on, “Thrawn sent Pellaeon and some of the other bridge crew to the auxiliary bridge so that they weren’t in the same place. I know they were arguing about it – I think Pellaeon wanted to evacuate and Thrawn still thought he could win.”

“Zeb and Chop and I searched the bridge,” Sabine said. “There wasn’t much of it left. We had to get into the communications room computers.”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah. I was with the death troopers – we ran into Pellaeon on his way down to the auxiliary bridge and stayed with him. The Vong took Thrawn, the rest of the bridge crew, others – there’s no accurate count on how many died and how many the Vong took captive.” He resisted the urge to say that as far as he was concerned, the Vong were welcome to keep Thrawn; with his luck they’d team up and that was the last thing he wanted or needed. “No one was in the auxiliary bridge when the bridge went; by the time we got there it was too late to pull the Chimaera up. Pellaeon ordered the evacuation then; the Vong were already pulling out. I guess they got what they wanted. By then the Scylla had come back; Charybdis was still trading punches with the Vong out in space.”

He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. He didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of the Chimaera crashing, which he had seen from one of the evacuating gunships. The shock wave when the star destroyer had struck the ground had tossed the gunships around with toys; two of them had crashed into each other and exploded. Even the Scylla, making a reckless atmospheric approach in an attempt to save as many of the Chimaera’s crewmembers as it could, had been thrown aside. Ezra never wanted to give Imperial any more credit than necessary, but the fact that Commander Kisujo had kept the Scylla from crashing was probably a minor miracle, especially given how much damage the cruiser had already sustained.

“Pellaeon went back afterwards to look for survivors,” Ezra said eventually. “There weren’t any. There were Vong hunting parties all over the place, though, seeding their blasted worldshaping plants.”

Hera stirred. “Those are the plants all over the Chimaera? We thought the ship must have been there for years until we got into the computers.”

Ezra nodded. “This planet is already pretty close to what they like in a world –” He gestured at the jungle that sat heavy and waiting all around them, “– but I guess they do it as a matter of course whenever they’re grounded for a while. Change the chemical composition of the atmosphere, the groundwater, destroy anything that looks like technology, enslave the natives – I don’t think this place has any, though.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Zeb asked over his shoulder.

“Looking for the Vong,” Ezra said. He rubbed his aching shoulder, where a Vong warrior had slammed him into a bulkhead on the Chimaera, and which had gotten further banged up when the shock wave from the Chimaera’s crash had tossed them his gunship around like confetti. Getting thrown into that tree hadn’t helped it either, nor did it help that it was the same shoulder he had been shot in six years ago. “Pellaeon thought he’d send someone who actually had a chance at making it back. And who he didn’t mind losing,” he added sourly. “TIE patrols spotted the Vong camp out this way – or the one who made it back said so, anyway. Pellaeon wants Thrawn back for some reason. And the rest of the crew, I guess. Even if they’re Imps they don’t deserve what the Vong will do to them.”

He fell silent, thinking about some of the holos he had seen of Vong-controlled planets the Chimaera had found. He had only been allowed groundside on one of those occasions, when Thrawn had decided he wanted to see what a Force-user would make of it, and he’d wanted to claw his own skin off within minutes of touching down.

“This isn’t the invasion fleet,” he said eventually. “I don’t know where they are. Thrawn thought it was some kind of advance scout fleet to figure out how hard the Vong would have to hit the Empire.”

Hera exchanged a look with Kanan over Ezra’s head. Sabine and Zeb both swore, Sabine in Mando’a, Zeb in Lasat.

“What?” Ezra said. “What did I miss? Uh, besides everything that happened in the last six years. You can just give me the highlights.”

Sabine rested the piece of beskar on her knee and ticked them off on her fingers. “Tarkin’s dead, Vader’s dead, the Emperor’s dead, Alderaan got blown up, the Empire’s in pieces but Palpatine still tried to destroy it from beyond the grave, the New Republic’s being run by idiots. Did I forget anything? Oh, the Jedi are back but all they do is argue about doctrine.”

Kanan sighed. “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Wait – what?” Ezra said.

“Not everyone on the Provisional Council is an idiot,” Hera said.

“Wait, what?” Ezra felt like he had just been hit with a very large brick. “Palpatine’s dead?” he said, focusing on that.

“Probably,” Zeb said. “Skywalker’s the only one who saw it happen.”

“Who’s – wait, like Anakin Skywalker? But he’s –” He stopped abruptly, remembering what had happened on Malachor.

There was an awkward silence shared between Kanan and Hera; Zeb and Sabine just looked at each other and shrugged. Sabine said, “If Palpatine was still around there wouldn’t be a dozen warlords – mostly former Imperials – running around trying to carve up the Empire between them.”

“Yeah, and maybe the Provisional Council would stop arguing with each other,” Zeb grumbled.

“The Jedi?” Ezra said a little wildly.

“Yeah, all three of them,” Zeb said.

“I’ll explain later,” Kanan said quickly. “It’s not quite as dramatic as it sounds.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Death Star,” Sabine said. “Mark one and mark two.”

“The what?”

“Let’s focus on our current situation, shall we?” Hera said quickly.

“Don’t even get me started on Mandalore.”

“I’ve always tried not to!”

“Hera went to another universe.” Sabine considered. “And she has a baby.”

“What?” Ezra almost fell off the tree root twisting around to look at Kanan and Hera.

Hera bit her lip. “Jacen’s not a baby, he’s six,” she said. She looked at Kanan and smiled, soft and fond. “He’s back on Ryloth with my father.”

“I need a drink,” Ezra muttered, then, louder, “Congratulations. Wait, you, went to another universe?”

“Kanan too,” Sabine said. “Oh, Ahsoka’s back too, but that was a while ago.”

Ezra rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, can we catch me up later?”

“The relevant part is that neither the Imperial Remnant nor the New Republic is in any position to repel a full-scale invasion,” Hera said. She sighed. “The only reason the New Republic let us come out here – officially, I should say – is because there have been rumors about Thrawn for years. If he’s in contact with anyone in the Remnant –”

Ezra shrugged. “Believe me when I say that I’m the last person Thrawn ever talked to. About anything.”

“How much of the Seventh is left?” Kanan asked.

“The Scylla and the Charybdis are the only ships left, and they both got pretty beat up in that last fight with the Vong,” Ezra said, thinking back. Pellaeon didn’t tell him much more than Thrawn did, but he had seen the makeshift command post in the Scylla before he’d left. “Everyone’s taken pretty heavy losses since Lothal –” He looked up suddenly, his heart in his throat. “Lothal –”

“Fine,” Sabine reassured him quickly. “Ryder’s governor again, everyone’s fine, Loth-cats as far as the eye can see.”

Ezra’s shoulders slumped in relief. Eventually, he said, “At least ten thousand back at Chimaera Camp and on Scylla and Charybdis, but I don’t think they’ve got more than fifteen thousand left altogether. I guess it depends how many the Vong took off the Chimaera.”

Kanan drew in his breath sharply. Ezra couldn’t blame him; the Chimaera’s full muster was for forty thousand, but it hadn’t held that many people since well before the purrgil had reduced it substantially. Most star destroyers, Pellaeon had remarked once, seldom held a full muster unless they were expecting to go into battle; in the normal course of things a star destroyer simply didn’t actually need nearly ten thousand stormtroopers who would do nothing but take up resources and start fights.

“That many troops plus the cruisers is enough to give any of the warlords a leg up on the others,” Sabine said practically. “Even without a star destroyer – or Thrawn, for that matter, I can’t see him letting Isard or Zsinj hold his leash.” When Ezra frowned at her, she clarified, “Those are two of the warlords running around making trouble. Isard used to run the ISB, Zsinj is just annoying.”

“He’s gotten a lot of people killed,” Zeb said harshly. “That’s more than ‘just annoying.’”

Sabine made a gesture of apology. When Ezra looked uncertainly between them, Zeb explained, “Before I volunteered for this, I was with New Republic Special Forces – the Pathfinders, not the droppers. The droppers are all crazy.”

Ezra filed that away to ask about later.

Kanan and Hera shared one of those silent moments of communication that Ezra had been so familiar with half a decade earlier, then Hera said, “We’ve stayed here too long already. Ezra, were you on your way to or back from the Yuuzhan Vong encampment?”

“To. I know about where it is. And I can’t sense the Vong –” He glanced at Kanan and saw the older man’s nod, acknowledging that it wasn’t any fault in Ezra’s command of the Force, “– but I can sense the captives they’ve got. And what they’re doing to this planet.”

Kanan nodded again, his expression grim.

“Will you take us there?” Hera asked. “We’d better see this, and then we can decide what we’re going to do. Regardless, the New Republic has to know.”

Ezra nodded, a little puzzled at the odd tone in her voice, then realized abruptly what might be going through her head right now. “I’m not one of them,” he said. “I didn’t switch sides. It wasn’t all awful, but I spent most of the past six years in a cell except when Thrawn decided to haul me out in case having a Force-user around helped. No one on the Chimaera ever forgot whose fault it was they were out there,” he added, gritting his teeth against the sudden quaver in his voice. He touched a finger to the white streak in his hair; it was probably invisible in this poor light, but it was part of the reason he kept most of his hair cropped short these days. “I got this the last time some of them decided I should pay for that and shot me in the head. That was the fourth time someone tried. Thrawn executed a hundred and thirty-seven people for it, including all the death trooper officers.”

He heard Zeb’s growl, low and furious, and the leather of Sabine’s gloves creak as she closed a fist.

“I’m not an Imperial,” Ezra said, fisting his own hands against his knees. He had nightmares about that day sometimes, about getting dragged out of his cell and down to the starboard hangar bay; the death trooper commander, who had been in charge of the attempted lynching, had wanted as many crewmen as possible to see it. Ezra had heard later that there had been a significant number of the conspirators who had wanted to execute Thrawn as well, blaming him for bringing Ezra onboard, getting them lost in the Unknown Regions, and attracting the attention of the Yuuzhan Vong. As it was, Thrawn, Pellaeon, and most of the other senior officers who weren’t also in on the conspiracy had been locked in one of the conference rooms before they had managed to get out. He had found out later that Thrawn had actually wanted to execute more of the conspirators, but had decided not to under the circumstances. As a result Ezra had spent most of his time in the medbay worried that one of those who had escaped the executions would come after him to finish the job.

He looked at Kanan, knowing that he would be able to sense it even if he couldn’t see it, and added, “I’m still a Jedi.”

“I know,” Kanan said, reaching down to squeeze Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra felt something tight inside him unknot. He reached up to grasp Kanan’s fingers, feeling sick with relief.

“I believe you,” Hera said. She looked over his head to Kanan, who nodded in response. “I believe you,” she repeated. “We’ll have a job of it convincing New Republic Intelligence, but let’s not borrow trouble before we have to.”

Before they left, Ezra found his sniper rifle and the sheared-off barrel. He handed the barrel to Sabine so that she could inspect the severed edge, comparing it to the dead amphistaff, and broke down the rifle until it was in its heavy blaster pistol configuration. He packed the rifle components away rather than leave them there; the machinists back at Chimaera Camp would either be able to repair them or use them for another purpose. The pistol went on his belt in the holster he had brought in case he needed to use it in that configuration.

Sabine returned the barrel to him and regarded the amphistaff’s corpse thoughtfully. Ezra had already tried and failed to get his vibroknife out of its neck, to his disgust.

“Can I take this with us or can they track it?”

“No idea,” Ezra said. “It’s never come up before.”

“Don’t take the risk,” Hera said.

Sabine sighed regretfully but admitted, “I’m guessing this isn’t the last time we’re going to run into these things.”

“The Vong are worse than grass ticks,” Ezra said, looking around until he found where he had dropped his night vision goggles. When Zeb reached for them, Ezra shook his head and explained about the amphistaff poison, which had already eaten through the lenses and left a brown patch on the ground where the goggles had lain. Ezra wouldn’t touch them again; he had seen too many people die from a drop of it on bare skin. It ate through stormtrooper armor only a little more slowly than it did cloth. At least five people from the Chimaera had had limbs amputated where they must have touched somewhere it had been, even if the venom itself was no longer visible.

“I’m really starting to dislike these things,” Zeb growled.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Ezra said. He looked around until he saw the thud bug that the Vong warrior had thrown at him early in the fight, and found it lodged into the thick bark of one of the nearby trees, which must have prevented it from returning to the warrior the way most thud bugs did. The fact that it hadn’t taken a chunk out of the tree impressed him, since he had seen them rip holes in durasteel plating a few times. That must have been very hard wood.

He pointed the thud bug out to Zeb and Sabine; Kanan and Hera were talking quietly to each other a little ways away. “We’ve been calling them thud bugs – they’re some kind of beetle; they can change their gravity somehow to hit incredibly hard. The Vong throw them – razor bugs too. That name’s probably self-explanatory.”

Sabine fingered a scratch on what remained of her armor. She looked oddly unbalanced without the missing portion of her breast plate, which she had stowed in one of her hip-pouches. “Ran into a couple of those. Lightsaber goes through them,” she noted, glancing at Kanan.

“Does it go through the armor?” Ezra asked curiously, hoping the answer was yes. He would feel better to know that something did.

She and Zeb both shook their heads. “Kanan’s real good at finding soft and tender places, though.”

Kanan turned his head at the sound of his name. Ezra felt the flicker of his attention at the edge of his mind; he hadn’t been listening in on their conversation. He was exquisitely aware of Kanan’s presence now that he knew the other man was there; if he had been paying more attention he might have realized when the Ghost arrived in-system. As it was, he had had his mind focused on the area immediately around him, trying to make certain that the animals and plants of the planet would tell him the Yuuzhan Vong crept up on him. He hadn’t flung his mind wide into the Force. No one on the Chimaera was Force-sensitive; the Empire screened even the weakest Force-sensitives out of the service.

He might have been more concerned about the way his awareness of Kanan’s presence was blotting out his awareness of the rest of the Force, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Kanan was here. All he wanted to do was creep over to Kanan’s side and bask in the sheer strength of his presence in the Force, like a Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

They left soon afterwards. Ezra took the lead with Zeb, wishing for the night vision goggles but knowing he didn’t need them. Even before Malachor he had trained blindfolded with Kanan – which he still remembered vigorously protesting at the time – and afterwards he had worked twice as hard at it, even though he had never told Kanan as much. He didn’t need his eyes when he had the Force, and with all his attention on the Force, the planet itself would tell him if the Vong were approaching, let alone Zeb’s sensitive ears and nose. Zeb had confided to Ezra that this planet reminded him of Lasan before its fall – Lira San, he had said, was nice enough, but somewhere between too similar and not similar enough to be comfortable for long. If Lira San was anything like, Ezra didn’t want to visit; he had already had enough of jungle planets and this was the only one he had been to.

He pushed his awareness of Kanan’s nearness to the back of his mind with a force of effort. Six months ago he had woken up from a sound sleep, shocked and shaking and knowing that some essential truth of the universe had just changed. Since it had happened he had touched that knowledge a hundred times a day, trying to work it out without having any way to do so. He had spent long hours in meditation, reaching out into the Force and falling just short every time. He had thought he might go mad with frustration. Thrawn, who never missed anything, had certainly noticed, even if Ezra had refused to say what had caused his sudden discontent. If Ezra had thought that there was any way he could get back to known space on his own, he might have made a break for it. He had considered it – Thrawn had certainly made the point enough that as a Force-user Ezra should have been able to – but by the time he had nerved himself up for it the Vong had begun hunting them in deadly earnest.

Being back here with them felt odd.

Ezra had certainly dreamed about it enough times, and if he hadn’t been so aware of his bad shoulder he might have thought that he was back on the Chimaera, sound asleep. He knew it was a danger, too; that his awareness of them ran the risk of distracting him at a crucial moment. As much as he pushed his knowledge of their presence away, trying to keep his mind only on the simple facts rather than the emotions involved, he knew he was putting them all at risk. He had to trust that between the five of them, they would be able to tell if Vong warriors searching for their missing patrol approached.

It took the better part of three hours before they reached the edge of the jungle. Halfway through, Ezra and Kanan both sensed the passage of another Vong patrol – sensed the wildlife and plant life reacting to it, rather – but the warriors were far away and showed no sign of approaching them. Dawn was filtering through the forest canopy in a gray-green haze as they ghosted up to the edge of the tree line. Like the path Ezra had taken earlier, the jungle ended barely a meter short of the cliff-face, forming a kind of bowl around the valley below. Ezra eased forward on his belly, pulling the riflescope out of his pack. He could sense the passage of another Vong patrol on the rim of the cliff, but it wasn’t near enough to be concerned with unless they were here for a while. He didn’t intend to stick around longer than he could help it.

The valley below boasted a kidney-shaped lake with large patches of some kind of plant life growing on the surface – Ezra reached out curiously with his mind and winced when he realized that they were Vong rather than native. The jungle around it had been cut back to make space for what he thought were either structures or grounded ships, all of them looking out of place here – not quite the right color or texture, with shapes that were subtly off enough to make him wince. He counted several dozen that looked like enormously oversized snail shells, a kind of orange-y green with a faint oily sheen to them. Something else, as large as a cruiser, he thought might be a grounded ship; its material was something like coral, or at least that was what it looked like through his riflescope.

Figures moved through the structures and ships – a few he recognized as Vong warriors, each of them unique in their vonduun crab armor; others were Vong from the different castes. He could sense humans down there, the prisoners taken off the Chimaera, but couldn’t spot them.

Sabine and Hera eased up on either side of him, Hera with a pair of macrobinoculars and Sabine with her rangefinder lowered. Ezra didn’t have to turn his head to know that Zeb and Kanan were hanging back, keeping watch against a Vong patrol.

Keeping his voice barely more than a whisper, Ezra pointed out the grounded cruiser-analogue, then the coralskipper starfighters that passed by overhead before landing alongside the starship. He hadn’t seen them in person before, just in holograms.

“Fast?” Hera asked him very quietly.

“About the same as a TIE, I think,” he murmured back. “They’ve got dovin basals – miniature black holes – like the cruisers, too, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Hmm.”

He had to grin at the hint of considering challenge in that syllable. If anyone could not only outfly a coralskipper solo but also shoot it down – the TIEs and handful of remaining TIE Defenders had to go after them in swarms – then it was Hera.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ezra reached out with the Force, sorting through the thousands of human minds as he searched for the alien one. He couldn’t sense the Vong and their living tools at all.

“Thrawn’s there,” he said after a moment, not bothering to conceal his disappointment the way he had done when Pellaeon had asked him to find out if the grand admiral was still alive. He was pretty sure Pellaeon had been able to tell his feelings anyway, but it was the principle of the thing; Pellaeon was fully capable of having him shot as more trouble than he was worth.

Sabine snorted softly. “Might have saved us some trouble if he was dead,” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Ezra muttered back. He peered through the riflescope again, letting the Force direct him. The shell-structures seemed to be where the prisoners were being kept, Thrawn among them. He couldn’t tell exactly which one Thrawn was in, but he supposed that when the Imperials went after him they would probably want to break all their missing troops out as well, since it would be about as much trouble. Unless Pellaeon tried to make him do it on his own, of course, Ezra thought, and started to grimace at the thought before he realized abruptly that that was no longer an option Pellaeon had.

He was reaching back reflexively for Kanan before he even realized he was doing so, his mind brushing against Kanan’s in the Force for a brief instant of reassurance. He felt Kanan’s response as if his master had gripped him briefly on the shoulder, calm and collected, though he knew Kanan hadn’t moved from his sentry position. Ezra turned his face down, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Sabine elbowed him gently. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s all right. We’ve got you.”

Six years ago Ezra might have said something like you took your time about it, but he just nodded. If they could have come sooner they would have, and if they had come sooner, then Kanan – Kanan might not be back. Six years in the Unknown Regions with Thrawn and his merry band of sociopaths was a sacrifice he was happy to make for Kanan’s return.

They watched the Vong camp for another two hours, watching the mist burn off the lake as the sun rose. Some of the lower caste Vong went into the shell-structures, probably to feed the Imperial prisoners; none of the Imperials came out. Ezra did a rapid estimate with the Force and came up with somewhere between three and four thousand prisoners, which he supposed would make Pellaeon happy; the worst case scenario had been that all the crewmembers unaccounted for from the Chimaera were dead. Hera didn’t look thrilled when he conveyed this information to her.

“Well, we’re not putting them all on the Ghost, that’s for sure,” Zeb grumbled; he was close enough to overhear.

All Hera said was, “I suppose we’ll have to talk to Captain Pellaeon.”

Not long after this exchange, Kanan said softly, “There’s a patrol about two klicks west of us. We’d better clear off, if you’ve got all you need.”

“Not all we need, but all we’re going to get, I think,” Hera murmured. The three of them retreated from the cliff face into the cover of the jungle.

Ezra got to his feet, wincing at muscles that had gone sore after two hours lying on the ground. Kanan was still sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, facing away from them with his eyes closed and his expression calm. Ezra was barely aware of stepping towards him until he found himself reaching down to touch Kanan’s shoulder, wanting to reassure himself of Kanan’s presence. Kanan turned his face up towards him, opening his eyes, and smiled. Ezra drew his hand back, embarrassed, then grabbed Kanan’s forearm to help pull him to his feet, the hard edges on Kanan’s bracer digging into his fingers.

Despite their precarious position, Ezra still rather wanted to drape himself on Kanan’s neck and weep.

Hera came up behind him and put a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before Chopper decides to take the Ghost and come find us,” she said.

Ezra nodded, then nearly had a heart attack as Zeb ghosted out of the jungle to join them; his purple fur and green bodysuit and armor blended in perfectly with the foliage. If this was true of all the Lasat Ezra was definitely never going to Lira San.

They left silently, moving through the undergrowth with surprising delicacy for the size of their group. Ezra, reaching out with the Force, found the passage of the same Vong patrol that Kanan had sensed. If the disappearance of the patrol they had killed had been noted, it wasn’t evident from the way the Vong had acted. Ezra would have thought that they would have had better security, but apparently not. Either that, or the Force had led them to avoid it on their approach.

The sun continued to rise steadily as they made their way single-file through the jungle. Zeb took point this time, with Sabine just behind him. While Zeb blended into the forest around them, the sunlight through the tree canopy dappled Sabine’s armor as she moved through it; Ezra couldn’t decide what colors it was and suspected he wouldn’t know for sure until they were back at the Ghost. Kanan and Hera brought up the rear, nearly soundless though Ezra was excruciatingly aware of Kanan’s presence.

After a sleepless night and a fight with the Vong, not to mention the intense emotion of the past few hours, he was so tired that he was nearly delirious with it. Everything had taken on a slightly bright edge; he could have fought if he had to, but he was just as glad for the moment that neither the Vong nor the native wildlife crossed paths with them. After almost a full day out here, he was also extremely aware of the fact that he had spent most of the past six years locked in a cell, with only occasional breaks to go nearly get killed, either by the Imperials or by whoever they happened to be fighting at the moment. He was almost tired enough that the cell was starting to sound appealing.

The day wore on, the heat and humidity growing steadily. Ezra kept his weary eyes on Sabine’s gaudily painted jetpack in front of him; it wasn’t the same color that it had been six years earlier – he would have been shocked if it had been – but the basic winged design was more or less the same, though he could spot differences. He was so focused on that to stay on his feet that he didn’t realize they had reached their destination until the flicker of movement behind transparisteel caught his eye.

Ezra stiffened, his hand going to his blaster. It took him a few moments for his gaze to focus; he was expecting nothing more than the endless expanse of forest, not the Ghost parked in a clearing just barely large enough for the ship. He stared blankly at the ship, unable to believe that it was actually here after so many years.

Kanan closed a hand on his shoulder as the ramp unfolded. Chopper, apparently unchanged from the last time Ezra had seen him, appeared at the top of the ramp, waving one of his manipulators and shouting in annoyance about how they had gone for hours, they could have died, how dare they leave him all alone. He stopped midway through his tirade, apparently having spotted Ezra.

Kanan pushed Ezra forward gently. Hera was walking past him, her own shoulders slumping with weariness; Sabine paused to turn on one foot, her gaze traveling over the clearing. Zeb was already on his way up the ramp with a comment to Chopper.

Ezra took one step forward, then another one. Chopper came down the ramp towards him as he reached it, chirping a cautious question.

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He started to kneel down so that they were on the same level, then overbalanced and sat down hard instead. Chopper rolled up to him, close enough to touch but not doing so. Ezra reached out, hesitating for an instant before he laid his hands on Chopper’s chassis. The metal was warm to touch, the pain smooth beneath his fingers except where it was starting to chip away. He could feel the hum of the droid’s inner workings against his palms.

“Yeah, Chop,” he said again, and started to cry, his head bent forward against Chopper’s dome so that none of the others could see. “It’s me. It’s me.”

#other side au tag #cut scenes and concept writing #as always comments are appreciated #there's less in the details playlist because I'm working on the fire part of the story at present

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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September 17: 3x07 Day of the Dove

I am incredibly discombobulated today—usual weekend nocturnal shenanigans I guess! Anyway it’s somehow midnight. Gonna try to write up these note on the Classic episode The Day of the Dove in as efficient a manner as possible.

Hmm, a planet with wavy pink Fraggle plants. I like it already.

But where is Spock? Very suspicious.

I really appreciate Kirk giving a little speech to set up the overall question/issue for us. (I know he does this all the time with the Captain’s logs but this is out loud and so… more obviously expository.)

Oh no, it’s our old friends…the Klingons.

I will admit that this ONE TIME, the Klingon is being reasonable. Like, it is reasonable to think that Kirk and the Enterprise attacked his ship, given that his hip WAS attacked, and who else would it be?

Three years of peace between the Klingons and the Federation? That is inclusive of the show so all this tension must technically be “peace” and also implies there was something more like a direct war going on, like, right before Kirk got the captaincy.

Zoolander voice: What is this, a colony of the INVISIBLE?

“We have no devil. But we understand the habits of yours.”

No takers? No takers on the torture? No volunteers to be mercilessly tortured by the Klingons?

Star Trek Beyond could have had Kirk and Chekov bond over being brothers! I mean, to other people.

They’ll kill 100 hostages at the first sign of treachery. He does know there are only 400-some people on the ship right? Maybe you should pace yourself, Kang.

Kirk’s so badass he needs MULTIPLE guns trained on him just to use the phone.

Oh-ho secret message to Spock. Which version of the iPhone will be capable of doing THAT?

The Klingons are “suspended in transit” is an awfully nice way of saying they’re just dematerialized atoms in space. Philosophy major and/or Bones nightmare fuel.

How did Kang not see this coming, by the way? Like, he just says “I’m taking your ship now, me and my 6 men versus your 400-some men, and I’ll do this by simply declaring it to be so. Now let’s beam up to your ship, where I’ll be greatly outnumbered, and there are armed security guards all around me.” Guess he’s been reading The Secret!

WIFE AND SCIENCE OFFICER

Aka the most important part of this whole episode.

Kirk’s face is very ?????? You can have both????

It’s legitimately not even important for her to be the science officer tbqh. Like that is so gratuitous. That’s just in there to drive me insane.

"We're prisoners, somehow, after I demanded to come on the ship, assuming they'd just give it to me without any kind of fight. How DID this happen?”

Federation death camps lol—someone’s been watching Fox News.

I do kind of wonder… is this an actual rumor that goes around the Klingon homeworld or is it something that the alien entity put in her head specifically to make her angrier right now? I mean it really could be either.

I also appreciate this episode for being pretty much the only one to actually attempt to give the Klingons a reason for being as they are. The Romulans… maybe aren’t well-described, but they do have a sort of regalness to them, appropriate for being related to Vulcans, and you can kind of imagine that they are the way they are because they’re Vulcans without the intense self-control. Plus they’re literally only in 2 TOS eps and in the second, the Federation are the aggressors. But the Klingons show up a half-dozen times only to be depicted each time as just like Cartoonishly Bad, aggressive, violent, and selfish for basically no reason. And I mean, some people really are!! But TOS has so much nuance in other places, that it always seemed a little disappointing to me that the Klingons are really just like ‘well we’re just bad and we hate everyone and we really like killing I guess.” At least in this ep there’s a little more added to that: that there is poverty on their world, that they feel aggrieved, that they feel unprotected, that taking and conquering is how they look after themselves…

I think that’s later in the episode though.

He’s detaining them in the LOUNGE lol. With their favorite dishes available to them to eat. Absolutely barbarous conditions.

I can’t believe Chekov is hanging in the elevator with the cool kids. Like, one of these things really isn’t like the others.

Kang is officially sure of himself for someone currently imprisoned in the lounge, that most fearsome of Federation death camps.

Hmm, could the glittery light alien have taken over??

You know what, that's a lot of tasks for Johnson to do all by himself: search the whole ship, fix the engines, and free 400 people.

Sulu would love this: everyone gets a sword!!

“Bridge. I gotta show this to Sulu immediately.”

Klingons have maintained a dueling tradition. That’s interesting. Finally some characterization going on.

Spock is really living up to his logical nature today. Everyone else has gone off the emotional deep end and he’s like “have you considered this completely rational explanation that accounts for the actual, observed facts??”

Whoops Chekov is actually an only child. Scratch that previous Beyond headcanon. (Interesting that his dead brother does really resemble Sam though—killed on a research colony??)

Love that Sulu knows that about him though.

Oh, that’s a pretty schematic picture of the Enterprise. I want that on a t-shirt.

Lol the pan out to the armory, now filled with… swords!!

Do ALL of these men have a fetish for swords? Sulu and fencing, Spock displaying swords in his quarters, and Kirk in his San Francisco apartment, and Scotty salivating over this Scottish blade.

“Klingon units.”

Finally Sulu gets his sword! It’s what he deserves.

Love that the shiny light alien also has a fetish for swords.

Oh no, it’s our old adversary, an alien life force.

What is the alien’s purpose? Um, I’m pretty sure its purpose is to start shit.

“An appropriate choice of terms, Captain.” I don’t even remember what this is referring to but I think it’s pretty clear that Spock is enjoying himself during a crisis again.

Bones, being so dramatic. Were there atrocities? He’s talking about the Klingons as if they were literally hacking off limbs—it’s a few stab wounds here and there, chill.

Oooh, time to behave like military men—strong words. (But I thought it wasn’t the military?? @ S**** P****) (This might not even be my best argument, given the context of this episode, but I’m sticking with it.)

This is like a giant game of capture the flag.

AU that’s just about the Enterprise crew playing capture the flag with the Klingons.

Sulu in the background standing guard with his sword

Damn, turning on Spock with the slurs now!!

Spock was absolutely ready to kill him. Like he would 100% have taken him out with a blow to the head. And he’d been doing such a good job of not feeling the alien’s effects so far! Admittedly, that was a strong provocation though.

Honestly, I really like this scene. It’s uncomfortable and tense and you can really see how the alien is bringing out the worst possible influences of their respective races. And I liked how Spock was definitely full on pre-Reform Vulcan for a minute there. It was a more effective portrayal of what that might have looked like than All Our Yesterdays tbqh.

A result of… stress?

Kirk got himself out of it first. He’s so strong. He knows himself so well, he cannot be outsmarted by any alien.

“We’ve been taught to think in terms other than war.”

“The alien brings out the worst of us—patriotic drumbeating…even race hatred.”

He’s so sad; he can’t imagine thinking like that about Spock :(

Sulu in a Jeffries tube! A man of many talents. It’s okay bb, take credit for turning on the lights.

The alien must have been getting bored. The Klingons must have been doing too well, and the playing field needs to be leveled for maximum shit-stirring.

“Let’s find that alien.” That’s how I ALWAYS feel.

Oh, Kang, you’re so close—“What power supports our battle but thwarts our victory.” So, so close to getting it.

ALIEN DETECTED.

Spock takes his sword, of course.

“Jim.” Obligatory Jim moments hit differently when they’re not so obligatory.

“Jim—stop hitting my protégé. And put that sword down.”

Kirk looks so sad, picking Chekov up to carry him bridal style.

Also in addition to ‘race hatred’ I think we need to add ‘rape-y tendances’ to the bad stuff that the alien is inspiring here.

“A brief surge of racial bigotry. Most distasteful.” Spock winning for understatement of the year.

They're assuming the alien is trying to test out their relative powers but I think it just wants entertainment. I mean, doesn’t it look like a naughty little thing?

Mara’s outfit is… little shorts? Interesting. Usually not my style but she makes it work.

Spock doesn’t even look at Johnson as he falls lol. Another one bites the dust.

“It exists on the hate of others.”

What does this remind me of? Oh, the Vast of Night and the whole “aliens made us do every bad thing ever” conspiracy theory. At least this one makes more sense, in part because it is not quite so overwhelmingly broad!

All hostile attitudes must be eliminated, he says, and there's Mara right behind Kirk giving him a death stare lol.

Kang is so obviously posing. Google Earth, always taking pictures.

Only a few minutes before drifting forever in space becomes inevitable? Good thing Kirk works well under pressure.

“Well… do whatever you can, Scotty. You know the drill.” Doesn’t even bother giving real directions anymore. We’ve been in this scenario before.

“So we drift in space, with only hatred and bloodshed aboard.”

And the 392 people below just get to…live in Enterprise prison, I guess.

Star date: Armageddon. So dramatic!

I’m not even making that up; that’s an actual quote. Can you imagine being an Admiral listening to this?

“Stop the war now.” An actual line, really aired on television.

Spock wants to threaten the wife lol. That's the old pre-Reform Vulcan seeping through. Surak who?

Damn, Kang is cold. “Eh, she gets the concept of being killed in battle.” They’re gonna need marriage counseling after this.

“There is another way. Mutual trust and help.” Yes that’s my hero!!

“No one can guarantee the actions of another.” Can’t remember the context of this entirely anymore, but great line.

The entity is loving this—multi-person choreographed sword fight!!

"Those who hate and fight must stop themselves. otherwise it is not stopped.” Another baller line. Spock has a lot of deep thoughts today. And so does Kirk. And Kang.

Kirk tries to reason with the alien. Nice try.

“Shoo. Shoo, alien. Off the ship, go away.”

Omg that last moment—Kang slapping Kirk’s back way too hard, Spock’s completely ridiculous wide-eyed expression when he does, like some sort of combo of amusement and confusion, and then Sulu just passing on by in the background….

Then the alien just yeets itself into space. And that’s the end!

Always feels weird when there’s no wrap up on the bridge.

Also, what are they going to do with the Klingons? They have no ship. They really did come out of this a lot worse than Kirk and co. No ship, huge casualties—and no one to blame even, but the alien.

I feel like the alien messed up a little in killing so many Klingons. Like, it could have accomplished its purpose, angering the Klingons and turning them on Kirk, by attacking the ship a little less violently—you know they’d react to 5 deaths pretty much the same as 400, and then there would be many more people to fight forever and produce that sweet sweet anger!

Maybe the alien’s powers aren’t strong enough to influence 800 people though. Also it wants equal forces and 800 people wouldn’t fit on the Enterprise, one assumes. So it still makes sense.

That was, of course, an excellent episode. 100% agree with is classic status, even though the main things I remembered going in were the wife + science officer bit, and everyone laughing at the end in a really forced, fake way, in order to make the alien go away.

I thought the Klingons were a lot better/more interesting today than usual. First, I think Kang is a better character, or a better actor maybe, than the others; he has a certain way about him that is… more watchable, more sympathetic. And he’s always saying these really dramatic things that make it seem likely he writes patriotic Klingon war poetry in his off time. Also, including his wife made them seem more… not human obviously, but normal. Not just cardboard cut-out villains. And of course the actual lightly specific motivations I earlier mentioned helped too.

Also, the plotting was very good: it built up slowly but surely over time, so at first the alien’s influence wasn’t that obvious, and then it became more so, and then it became horrifically obvious and extreme. And then you had to re-evaluate earlier moments: was that the alien changing facts in their heads, or a real part of the animosity between humans and Klingons? And it wasn’t always clear, which I appreciated. The tension when the people were at their worst wasn’t overdone, like in that moment with Scotty, Spock, and Kirk—or even in Chekov’s assault on Mara, tbh. The various strategies of the different sides were very entertaining too; there was never a dull moment, and they fit in a lot of straight-up actions and twists into 50 minutes.

The possible threat was truly terrifying, also: stuck in a space ship, forever, unable to die, feeling the worst possible emotions all the time, besieged, angered, despairing, fighting a war that can’t be won, being injured and suffering only to recover and fight again, and it never stops… A perfect nightmare mixture of insanity and violence and pain. And the alien, in encouraging hatred and anger, doesn’t discriminate between sides: they turn on each other just as much as on the Klingons, breeding paranoia and infighting. For eternity.

The episode also felt much more strongly anti-war than I remember tbh. Like it was not subtle. Kirk literally says “stop the war” in so many words. He has a part in his speech where he talks about the possibility of other aliens out there, encouraging other wars. And while I do think “maybe the aliens are making us do it” is a cop out explanation, or would be if it were real, the scenario gave the show a lot of room to say, like, pretty ballsy things: to include “patriotic drum beating” along with “race hatred” in a list of corrupting feelings they were experiencing; to show how the same instincts that lead to warring also lead to sexual assault and the aforementioned ‘race hatred;” to reveal the true horror of an endless war by making the participants unkillable and sticking them in a singular space ship in the middle of nowhere; to imply that the combatants of war gain nothing from it, but outside or third-party entities will pull strings of their own design to profit from the conflict as long as possible; even to make an impassioned plea to camera to stop the endlessness of the conflict. Like I can’t even totally unpack this but it is a lot!

Finally, it was also a great Kirk episode, which of course is my most important factor. He’s smart; he’s strong; he’s so sure of himself and his values that he cannot be manipulated to mindless hatred, he represents the values of the Federation, and the show itself; he treats even his enemies with basic respect and humanity; and ultimately, he saves the day.

Okay I was not efficient in writing this up at all! It is very late!!

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #2021: fandom thoughts #star trek tos

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ohmightydevviepuu · 4 years

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the red queen [1/1]

to @profdanglaisstuff for the suggestion; to @katie-dub for the gut-check and encouragement; to @thisonesatellite for existing.

happy (belated) birthday to a beloved friend. i feel so lucky that we have found each other.

this is a continuation of my space pirates AU, sanguine, adj. ‘hopeful’. (it also means bloody). if the earlier parts were a premise pilot...think of this as a procedural. shamelessly inspired by “the train job” (firefly 1x02) and “the three-card monte job” (leverage 3x09), because i think i am hilarious (sometimes) and i have a writing crush on john rogers.

proximity alert cell block 1138 a good day

AO3

The man was tall and dark. Broody type, scruffy-looking, but he walked into the bar like he owned it. Slid onto a barstool, let the length of his battered greatcoat hang behind him and looked around with piercing blue eyes that missed nothing. Within two seconds he was followed by a woman, tall and broad, beautiful with black hair that curled and hung nearly to her waist, just above the gun she kept holstered there. Their movements had the ease of old reflex: he walked ahead, ready to encounter whatever might come at them first. She stayed close, but behind, ready to watch his back.

The bartender eyed them warily, watched the man’s gaze take in everything. He turned to the woman and asked, “What’ll you have?”

“Whisky,” she said. “Straight.”

He turned to the man and repeated the question.

“Actually, mate,” the man said, with a wink directed not at the bartender but squarely at the vidcam placed over the bartender’s shoulder. “Is it okay if I just sit here until a gorgeous blonde walks in?”

Will Scarlet spit out his drink, drops splattering on the commscreen in front of him.

Where he was watching them, of course. No way was he letting that cheeky asshole off coms or off cams again. Ever.

Ursula snorted.

The bartender rolled his eyes. “Whatever you want, mate,” he said, pulling a bottle from the counter to pour Ursula’s drink. She threw an extra couple of credits on the bartop and shook her head in commiseration.

But the door opened and in walked an objectively good-looking blonde woman. Her hair was shorter than Ursula’s, a bit awkward really, not that Will knew anything about women’s hair, but it was still closer to Federation regulation-length than anything else and it was tied back in the sort of tight tail that the Feds encouraged for anyone with long hair.

She had green eyes and she stopped when the man’s landed on her, cocking her head and smirking.

“You’re kidding me,” Will muttered, taking another sip of his drink. “Smug bastard.”

“Hello, beautiful,” the man said. The woman stepped up to the bar and the man took her hand in his, bending over it to place a kiss in her palm. “Captain Killian Jones, at your service. Can I offer you a drink?”

The bartender’s jaw dropped.

Ursula shook her head and took another sip of whisky, ignoring the scene playing out next to her.

The woman’s eyes glittered. “Listen, Jones--”

“I prefer ‘Captain’,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I bet you do,” she murmured, leaning closer to him until her head was just above his ear. “Touch me again, Captain, and I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

“Is that a threat?”

The woman brushed her red leather jacket so the flash of metal at her hip gleamed and Will saw the bartender take notice. “It’s a promise.”

So did every other patron of the bar.

“Dammit, Killian,” Will groused.

Emma Swan turned and, with a wink of her own, nodded at Will in the camera. The bartender poured her a shot and turned back to the Captain.

Emma drank off the shot and left.

Will exhaled.

“How’s it going?” Robin Locksley walked up behind him, taking a seat in the co-pilot’s chair of the cockpit.

“You know, the usual,” Will muttered.

“Oh god, oh god, we’re all gonna die?” Robin smiled.

“Not yet,” Will said. “Give it time.”

Killian Jones, Captain, looked at the bartender. “A shot of rum, if you please,” he said, and the bartender sighed. Killian was fiddling with something in his hand as he fumbled for the requisite credits and then all of the blood seemed to drain from his face as he went very still, and very pale.

Next to him, Ursula tensed. Reflex.

She looked quickly to the camera and shook her head and Will drew in a deep breath.

“What’s up?” Rob asked, leaning toward him.

“Dunno.” Will shrugged. “Nothing good. You had to go and jinx it.”

From the end of the bar there was a sound.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

It was slow. It was the dripping water of a faucet.

Killian’s jaw muscle twitched and he turned.

The man had long hair, down to his chin in waves, run through with silver. His moustache and beard framed his mouth and tapered off at the sides.

He had piercing blue eyes.

“Hello, Dad,” Killian said.

Will was silent, his mouth hanging open. Next to him, Robin was still.

Emma’s voice crackled over the comm. “Did he just say--”

“Fuck,” Will said.

“Hello, dad,” Killian said, keeping his voice calm but feeling the twitch in his jaw and the itch in his fingers. He willed himself to be still, to look the man square in the eye for the first time in--

“I got a out, you know,” Brennan Jones said. “A while ago, in fact.”

Twenty years.

That’s how long it had been since his father left.

“Didn’t see you, though, at the prison colony spaceport waiting to pick me up in that fancy ship of yours,” Brennan said.

Twenty years since Brennan had left, twelve years since he had got caught running cons and games on rich marks on the central planets. The Federation, as Killian knew only two well, did not take kindly to larceny and thieving unless they were the ones doing both and Brennan had been caught, tried--and shipped off to ‘Neverland’.

They said it was a place where time stood still for its inmates, stuck while the world passed them by.

Twenty years.

“Yeah,” Killian said. “Yeah, I was kind of busy. Visiting my mother’s grave, you know. Visiting Liam’s grave.”

Brennan clucked his tongue in a noise that made Killian cringe. A noise that haunted his dreams on his bad nights, of his father’s disapproval, his indifference. Killian hated that noise and hated even more that it still held sway over him.

“All your life,” Brennan said, “you thought you were better than me. Never showed any respect.”

“What, exactly, did you do to deserve respect?” Killian said.

Twenty years, but Brennan still knew about the Jolly Roger, knew where to find him, knew exactly what buttons to push and strings to pull to make Captain Killian Jones feel like an angry child.

What else did he know?

Brennan turned to Ursula and said, with a tip of his head in affected gallantry, “Would you give us a moment? I’d like to talk to my son, here. My good-form, never-break-the-rules-son. Look at him now, yeah? Nothing but his own personal balls-and-bayonets brigade, living off the raggedy edge on the wrong side of the law. Nothing but a pirate, a criminal like his old man.”

Ursula ignored him, looked at Killian. Killian nodded. “Head back. We still have a job to do.”

His hand tightened around the crinkled piece of paper Emma had passed him.

The one with the name of their contact on this job.

Brennan Jones.

He thought of her and he tried to summon the feel of her fingers against his skin as if it would give him strength or hope or succor.

Maybe it did. Ursula’s eyes were black stones of judgment as Killian ran his hand through his hair and met her gaze and then, finally, she nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you,” Brennan called to her retreating back. “Now, about that job--”

“Run it,” Killian growled, his voice low and weary.

Emma looked around the cockpit, from Will to Robin to Nemo to Ursula and even to Ariel, who fidgeted visibly, more uncomfortable than Emma had ever seen her.

Whale stood off to the side, his arms crossed, shaking his head.

“Maybe we should discuss it first,” Emma said. “I know I feel a little weird--”

It was more than weird. It was downright uncomfortable. For the first time since she’d stayed with Killian, with the Jolly Roger and its crew, she was unsettled.

(Former) Federation Operative Emma Swan did not do unsettled.

“I don’t.” Killian bit down on the consonants, hard, each one clipped and harsh and as if they were spoken by a stranger. “Come on, Scarlet.”

“Sir--”

“Killian, sometimes you just need to stop and question--” Emma and Will spoke at the same time but then he stopped and looked at her. Emma took a breath and said, “Sometimes you just need to stop and think for a minute--”

“What is this, mutiny? An insurrection?” His eyes hardened. “Don’t ever tell me what to do on my--” Emma hissed, a warning, and Killian took a deep breath. “It’s a job like any other.”

If keystrokes could have emotions, Will’s were angry.

“Stop looking at him as my father,” Killian said.

“Can you?” Emma asked, walking up to him and putting her hand on his cheek.

He jerked away.

“But this isn’t, as you say, a ‘job like any other’,” Nemo pointed out. He was the only one in the galley who looked relaxed, his posture upright as always but with an air of ease that Emma desperately wished she felt. “And not because of who he is. Because of why he’s here.” Nemo gestured at the screen Will had projected on the wall and turned toward Emma. “What’s your professional opinion here, Operative Swan?”

Will had brought up a list of the charges against Brennan Jones: theft, fraud, bribery, smuggling, all across multiple systems.

Child endangerment.

Child abandonment.

Emma looked at Killian.

Killian looked away.

“No way he’s out of Neverland after only twelve years,” Emma said. “So--” her eyes were still on Killian “--trap?”

“Aye,” he said. His eyes flashed with relief and his jaw muscle relaxed. “Set up by someone else to do the dirty work. Blackmail, maybe. That’s how a lot of the big syndicates do things now. Quasi-government entities, some of them. Don’t want the dirty work putting them on the Feds’ radar and interfering with their legit scams. Keeps the blood off their hands.”

“So what’s Brennan’s game here, Captain?” Ursula asked.

Robin scrubbed a hand down his face and drew in a deep breath. “I imagine he’s got a chess board set up just like yours, sir.”

Killian’s answering look was murderous. “More like three-card monte. Keep the cards moving until he’s ready for you to see the queen.”

“Nah, he’s the one on the move.” Will turned around in his chair.

“How in the bloody hell do you know that?” Killian snapped.

“Facial scan, sir.” Will glared. “I tagged him and put my web-crawlers to work on the Cortex. And he just got a call. Sounds like he’s got sources planted across the world, and this one’s tapped into a Fed outpost. Core access across the entire sector, including SOS, maintenance, alarms. Brennan’s pushing him to tamper with it, cross the signals or some such.” Will squinted at his screen and crossed his hands behind his neck. “Your dad, he is not a nice man, is he? Must run in the family.”

The galley was, for one interminable moment, silent.

Robin smacked Will across the back of his head.

“Captain? What’s our play?” Ursula asked.

“Um, I have a question?” Ariel raised her hand. Emma stifled a laugh, and Ursula sighed. “If Brennan did all of these terrible things, blackmail and the like, why did he come here and hire us? If he’s so bad--”

“--what are they using against him,” Emma finished. “Against us. You.” Everything Killian cared about--was here. On the ship.

It was Nemo who answered. “This is about Liam?”

“Isn’t he--” Robin started to say, but stopped.

Dead. Liam Jones was dead, killed in the operation that Killian had fled with the Jewel of the Realm.

Slowly, minutely, Killian nodded.

“You think someone has your little brother?” Nemo spoke slowly in a soothing tone, as if for a small child.

Whale nearly fell over. “The hell--?”

Emma felt her mouth open. She closed it.

Unsettled. She did not like it. She did not like not having all of the information queued up and ready for her and this was something she should have known.

Something Killian should have told her.

A quick glance around the galley suggested that she was not the only one for whom this news was a revelation. She looked at Ursula, who blinked in surprise and looked at Will, who shrugged and looked at Robin, who shook his head. In unison, they all turned to look at Nemo.

“Younger,” Killian corrected him softly, almost as a reflex. “Aye.”

Nemo had eyes only for Killian, his eyes full of care and concern and quiet authority.

“Killian,” Nemo said. “It’s not your job to take down your own father.”

Emma took two steps across the galley and reached for Killian again.

This time, he did not pull away.

“You’re right about that,” Killian said. “It’s my gorram pleasure.”

His fingers tightened around Emma’s until she couldn’t feel them anymore.

“Killian, I don’t think we have enough information on your fa--on this guy. Not yet,” Emma said.

There were other things she could say. Maybe too many other things.

How Brennan had found them.

Killian’s younger brother, Liam Jones.

What Nemo knew that she didn’t.

But she didn’t say any of them. Not yet.

They stood out on the pavement in the middle of the city, or near enough--a city that was just big enough to boast the kind of multi-level skyscraper that was normally more prevalent across the Core worlds, but not so big that any of the buildings were in particularly good repair. They stood in the middle of a fair bit of traffic--pedestrians, land speeders, even personal shuttles buzzing in the sky for the gentry who wanted to show off, but not so much or so little that the five of them and their two Mules were memorable.

Emma, Killian, Ursula, Ariel and Robin stood in front of a building rendered completely invisible by virtue of its resemblance to every other building.

“We don’t even know if this is the right place,” Emma said.

Will’s snort made the earpiece crackle and Emma winced.

“I’m sure,” Will said. There was a beep in the background and Will’s voice was serious this time. “Okay, I think I may have an ID on a potential bad guy.”

“We’ve got the bad guy, Scarlet,” Killian said.

Which was part of the problem, as far as Emma was concerned. Brennan had backup and Killian’s instincts seemed to come from a pretty deep gene pool and that made Brennan one very dangerous guy with potentially more dangerous allies. Emma looked at Ursula, who shrugged.

Ursula was always going to back Killian’s play; well, so would Emma.

“Whatever you say, sir, but this guy Jefferson Chepalier has an interesting story to tell. They say he’s some kind of magician, just making things disappear from one place and appear in another. Weapons, credits, pharmaceuticals--you name it, he’s moved it.”

Nemo’s voice chimed in. “I’ve heard of him. Even the Federation is one of his clients.”

Robin’s eyebrows went up in silent admiration and Emma sighed. “I’ve heard of him, too,” she said. “He knows a lot of the right people in a lot of the right places.”

What did Nemo know?

Why hadn’t Killian told them?

Why hadn’t Killian told her?

“Well, seems like they had a bit of an ugly breakup,” Will said. “Busted last month and lost twenty million in merchandise.”

“Sounds like the kind of guy who could get someone out of Neverland,” Emma said.

“Sounds like the kind of guy who needs a big score,” Robin said. “Guys that desperate--”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” Emma agreed.

“Speaking of bad,” Will said. “Here’s some bad news: the system here is old-school. Too antiquated for me to tunnel in and hack.”

Emma rolled her shoulders and moved her neck from one side to the other. But this was nothing they hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t know some of these specs even existed anymore.” Will sounded offended, as though he expected more from his adversaries. “Getting into this would be like hacking a museum exhibit.”

“Which you’ve done,” Robin said.

“Nothing you can prove,” Will said. “In fact--”

Ariel giggled.

“In fact,” Killian interrupted, “it means we’re not going to able to stop him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It means we’re going to have to help him. Just like he planned.”

“We’re on it,” Ursula said as Emma pulled a pair of cuffs out of her inner jacket pocket and stepped toward Robin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Will said. “You just--happened to have those on you?”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“Do you always have those on you?” Will asked. “Because--” he paused, presumably watching Emma put the cuffs on Robin “--you are weirdly comfortable doing that.”

“Don’t I know it,” Killian muttered.

Ariel’s mouth dropped open.

“Ariel.” Ursula brought her back to focus. “You’re going in the back. Hook us in manually.”

“And Scarlet,” Emma said, “you keep your mouth shut unless you want me giving Belle pointers when she gets back from Persephone.”

There was an intake of breath over the comm and Killian said, “Shut up, Scarlet.”

“Okay, but--” Robin was resigned as the cuffs clinked into place “--what are we doing here, exactly?”

“All the alarms for the entire Andromache system run through this building,” Will said. “Banks. Private homes. Government systems. Transpo networks. Everything. My guess, Brennan wants to control which alarms get through and which don’t.”

“It’s what I would do,” Killian said. He did not look happy about it.

“It isn’t,” Emma said. “You wouldn’t have gotten us here in the first place.” She wanted to reach for him, to take his hand, to press a soothing palm against his cheek. But she had Robin Locksley in her handcuffs and, apparently, the fate of Killian’s heretofore-unknown younger brother in their hands.

Killian didn’t answer. Didn’t look at any of them, just stared upward at the facade of the building they were about to infiltrate.

“Sir?” Ursula prompted. “We don’t have to do this.”

“We’re the only ones who can,” he said. “Anchors aweigh.”

Emma looked at Ursula, who nodded and gave Robin a shove as they went through the doors.

Not only was (former) Federation Operative Emma Swan weirdly comfortable using handcuffs, Robin Locksley was weirdly okay about being cuffed. The whole thing was really weird, Will decided.

At least until--

“Can we hurry up? Being handcuffed in a Fed outpost is a recurring bloody nightmare of mine.”

Never mind, Will thought.

“Scarlet,” Ursula said. “How do we look?”

Will tapped a few keys and leaned forward to peer at the screen. “We will rule over all of this land,” he said. “And we will call it--’This Land’.”

Ariel chirped, “That’s a good thing, right? We’re shiny?” She was breathing slightly heavily from inside a crawlspace, where she had physically tapped the network while Emma, Ursula and Robin distracted the Feds.

“Means we’re tapped into every piece of wire and tech running through that place. We can block alarms, we can set alarms, we can track alarms, all through our own comms network. Nice work--very shiny.”

Ariel clapped her hands in glee.

“Now get the bloody hell out of there--”

The comms broke squelch with a burst of feedback so sharp Will had to shut down the system for eighty-three seconds.

And Killian, that rat bastard, did it on purpose.

Urusla’s voice was the first to break through when he got them back online. “Scarlet?” She was, as ever, sharp and focused. “Where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Emma said, sounding certain.

“Seriously?” Robin said.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

“So,” Killian said, “let me tell you what I did.”

He was back in the bar, where Brennan Jones did not seem at all surprised to see him. Papers were spread out across a table in the corner and the bartender kept deliberately not looking their way.

Brennan smirked. “Oh, I already know what you did,” he said. “You let my repairman loose, fine. You think I don’t have another contact? You really think you can beat me? You’re not tough enough. You’re not ruthless enough. You don’t have what it takes, even with your interference--”

“Using a civilian was a dumb brute-force move.” Killian pulled his earpiece out of his ear and a small black box out of his pocket and held them up. “Rigged to the Fed systems. I control it now. I can destroy it. You were saying?”

“Well.” Brennan looked, for the first time, surprised. “That’s--well.”

“You’ve done your homework. You know that I stole the fastest ship in the fleet right out from under the Federation’s nose, so you should also know that I broke into Robert Gold’s space station and broke back out again. Severed his hold on the Federation council. Walked away after he tortured me. If I can do that, imagine what I could to you.”

All of that was true and yet--it had been easier to be tough in front of Gold than it was in front of his own father. He’d been doing that for Emma.

He wished she was here.

They were better as a team.

But she didn’t need to be a part of this. Not this. Killian didn’t want Brennan Jones even looking at her. More importantly, he didn’t want Brennan’s allies--whomever they were--knowing who she was.

“I did my homework too, dad. Where’s Liam?”

Brennan cleared his throat. “You’re being a wise guy with me?”

“What was it you used to say? ‘You’re too much of a planner, Killian. You have to be tougher to survive’. You’re so tough, prove it.”

Besides, Killian Jones always had a plan.

Behind him, Killian heard the sound of an old-fashioned revolver being cocked. He was, for a second, disappointed.

So predictable.

He looked around, started to turn--

Was stopped by an elbow to the back of his head.

After that, blackness.

“How long until we hit Paradiso?” Killian asked.

The train whipped through the countryside on the mag-lev track and Emma checked the map on her screen. “Another twenty minutes,” she said. “You should be at the foothills in five.”

“You’re sure?” Robin asked for the twentieth time. “You’re sure this was the plan?”

“He’s sure,” Emma and Ursula spoke at the same time, for all that Ursula was down on the train with Killian and Emma was in the cockpit of the Jolly Roger.

She wanted to be with him.

They were better as a team.

But that wasn’t the plan, and she was part of something now--part of a crew.

“Saw the maps,” Killian reminded them. “Had blueprints laid out for house party on Boros--some gentry have got a Lassiter there.”

“I’ve always wanted one of those,” Ariel said wistfully.

“Next time,” Killian said. For the first time in days Emma thought she detected a smile in his words. “And then there was a set for a hospital on Athens,” Killian said.

“Too much work. Not enough payoff,” Nemo murmured.

“Exactly,” Killian said.

“Three-card monte,” Emma said. “He wanted you to see.”

“Exactly,” Killian said again, and smiled this time.

“What’s the cargo?” Ursula wanted to know.

“No clue,” Killian said. “But since Chepelier was there--save the speech for later, Scarlet--I’d reckon it’s something that will get him his twenty mil back. And I’ll have some words for him about hitting me when we meet.”

“Something that requires an entire Fedsquad sitting on this train,” Ursula said.

“Not an entire squad, Ursula,” Killian said. “Just a few. Just enough to make it fun.”

“When those alarms go off,” Emma said, “it’s gonna be Armageddon.”

“That’s the idea, love,” Killian reminded her.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “Only I think you have a bit of a problem with your brain being missing.” She paused for a beat and then said, seriously, “Killian, it’s not too late to sit this one out.”

Behind her, Emma felt Nemo’s hand on her shoulder. He squeezed.

Killian didn’t answer. He said, “Start flying with the hatch open. Keep her steady, Locksley.”

There were no guards in the train car, just stacks of crates and baggage. Killian went in first and Urusla followed, sliding the door mostly shut behind them but leaving it slightly ajar as Ursula turned to fiddle with a canister she pulled from her satchel and the wires hidden in the door panel. Killian moved toward the center of the car, waiting for Ursula to hand him the screw gun.

He stopped and examined a particular stack of crates and then began to climb them, gently, stopping when he could reach the ceiling. Three corrugated iron panels stood between them and the open sky and soon there was not even that, as Killian put the gun to one of the rivets in the center panel and triggered it.

It made a sickening noise and Killian winced.

“Find the cargo,” he said.

“Thanks for the reminder, sir,” Ursula said.

Killian smirked and pulled the gun down, removing the rivet stuck in it before starting on the next, moving methodically from one to another until the last one is free and he lowered the panel as gently as the could.

It made a bit of a clatter, and Killian winced.

“Sir--” Ursula called, pointing at a stack of boxes.

“Shiny,” Killian whispered. “Brilliant. Get it over here.”

He had barely finished speaking when the net dropped into the hole in the roof of the train.

“Fifteen seconds,” Emma said.

The canister popped just when the wire pulled.

Immediately, there was a ringing noise that echoed through the train car.

“Alarms are set,” Scarlet said, his voice grim. “Feds on your door and Brennan--”

“I’ll worry about Brennan,” Killian said as the door opened fully and the gas released by Ursula’s canister blinded the Fed sent to investigate. With movements both precise and brutal, Killian disarmed him and had him on the ground, unconscious, in seconds.

He and Ursula closed the door behind them just as the comm started blaring and the train began to slow as they pulled into Paradiso.

Brennan Jones walked up to the makeshift processing site outside of Paradiso.

It was utter chaos.

Every person around him was screaming into a comm. “What do you mean, we’ve got another alarm call--a third one?!!--multiple code ones at the following sites--roll out--send backup--every available unit!”

It was the house party full of gentry on Boros that sweetened the deal. Feds wouldn’t normally roll out for a bunch of hicks coming in from Hancock. Alarms going off on Boros, on Athens, across Regina--that was a different story.

All hail the might Federation, though it was a shame about the Lassiter. That would fetch a tidy fortune on the black market.

Next time.

(Former) Federation Operative Emma Swan walked into the makeshift processing site the locals had set up outside Paradiso.

Where the train had stopped.

After some thieves put a hole in the roof.

It was utter chaos, every person around her screaming into a comm, Feds literally walking in circles--

Except for the poor, understaffed local constabulary, who had been left to deal with the passengers.

Killian and Ursula were off to the side, cuffed and under the watchful eyes of someone who looked like a local sheriff. He looked tired, and frustrated--was likely both of those things, now the Feds were off the train and in his backyard--and did not manage to keep his sigh inaudible as she approached.

Emma flashed her badge fast enough that the lawman wouldn’t be able to get a good look at the code designation that was now invalid. She gave him a half-grin as she did so, carefully calculated.

Empathetic. Brisk. Efficient.

Not here to ruin his day.

She was here to save it, in fact, but he had no way of knowing that.

“You Nolan?” she asked, and he gave her a wan smile. “I’m Swan.”

Brennan watched the scene playing out before him.

“No, I can’t send confirmation,” a particularly harried ensign snapped. “This is an all-network alert! Cargo theft--”

Brennan hovered genially near the harried-looking ensign, a petite woman with her hair tied in a regulation-style knot, and smile the kind of smile that was warm enough but completely unmemorable as he waved a datapad in the air with a kind of ‘what can you do’ shrug.

The ensign barely spared him a glance before waving him away, his presence already accounted for and forgotten, and Brennan inched closer to the train, where he was met by a tall blonde man in a uniform who asked, bored, “Status?”

Brennan handed the datasheet over, a transfer order flickering across its surface.

“You’re expecting me,” Brennan said. “Evidence transfer.”

“That’s right, you bastard,” Will muttered at his tablet. “Captain, are you sure--”

“You know the plan, Will.”

“We could just tell the Feds--”

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Killian said. “Gonna look him in the eye when he goes down.”

“Evidence transfer,” the blonde man said, frowning as he looked at the datasheet. “About that--”

He stopped as Ariel, her hair out of its knot, came up behind Brennan Jones, tapped him on the shoulder, and punched him.

Victor Whale pulled off his uniform cap and winced. Ariel was tiny, but she packed a right hook like a freight train.

“Ooooooof,” Will murmured.

Emma thought she heard the sheriff mutter about gorram time but not loud enough she had to acknowledge it. “You know there’s a whole spate of robberies across the system today,” she said casually. “Alarms going off anywhere.”

Implied: you’re lucky I showed up at all.

“Rumor has it they were after millions,” Nolan said. “You here for evidence holding?”

Emma only just managed to keep the sneer off of her face.

“Evidence holding”. That’s what the Feds were calling it now.

Emma shrugged. “Above my paygrade. I’m just here for those two.” She nodded with her chin at Ursula and Killian.

“I knew something about his story smelled,” he said, shaking his head and checking his datapad for the passenger manifest.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Emma said, sending a surreptitious wink toward Killian. “It’s not the only thing about him that does.”

In her earpiece she heard him chuckle.

“They’ve been bound?”

“Not yet,” Nolan said. “I--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emma said. “You just get the rest of these citizens back on this train and on their way. I’ll take care of them.”

Ariel shrugged and ducked as Brennan made a pass at Whale and she pulled out a tranq gun--

“That’s enough, Ariel,” Killian said, walking up behind them, a cuff dangling from one wrist while he worked the other free. “It’s going to end right here, dad. You ready? Let me tell you what I did.”

“How did you know?” Brennan looked--bemused.

Almost impressed.

Killian reached into his greatcoat pocket and removed a small black box wired to an earpiece.

“Let’s try this one more time, shall we?”

“What’s the trick to three-card monte?” Killian asked, advancing on his father. “The red queen’s never even on the table. But it was a nice move, dad, knocking me out. Letting me deduce your plan. I didn’t even need this--” he held up the black box, pulled from his pocket “--to get inside your head. And all the time, you’re playing me. Playing my crew.”

Ursula, Ariel and Whale stood behind him and Will laughed at the screen. Big damn heroes.

“You tried to make me a pawn in your game. You tried to make Liam a pawn in your game. But here’s the thing, dad: you’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being played. And I always know. You taught me that.”

“Twenty million is a lot of money, Killian,” Brennan said.

Killian exhaled a laugh through his nostrils. “It’s not about the money. It never was. You’re not working for Jefferson Chepelier. You’re working around him, trying to get the bigger score. Get his merchandise to a better buyer, the kind of buyer who will pay top dollar and let you sail off into the black forever. A buyer like Cora Hart.”

Brennan stilled and Killian smiled.

“My people are going to take down Chepelier and Cora Hart. We have your cargo. What was it you always used to say?” Killian’s mouth contorted as he imitated his father’s voice. “‘You’re too much of a planner, son.’”

Killian leaned forward, his hands resting on his belt.

“The cargo is already on the way to a contact of ours,” he said. “Because if you’d done your planning, father, you’d have known that I have certain understandings in place between my crew and the Federation Council. And Regina Mills. You’ve heard of her, right? Cora Hart’s daughter? She was thrilled to get her hands on this kind of leverage against Cora.”

“What about your brother?”

“What about him? He was never in danger, not from you, and not from Chepelier,” Killian said. “Just another jack being shuffled--a distraction--but he’s safe. Far away from you and now with the protection of a pirate--” Killian bit the word “--and a Federation Councillor. You’re never getting near him again, and any minute now, the Feds are gonna come and--”

“--arrest both of us,” Brennan said.

“What for?” Killian held up his still-cuffed wrist. “I’ve sent the cargo on already and I have an alibi.”

“I’m not going back to Neverland,” Brennan said.

“That’s fine.” KIllian pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. Ariel made a sound like a sad cat, mewl. Whale swore under his breath.

“You can’t do this,” Brennan said, and chuckled. “I could, but you’re your mother’s son.”

Killian cocked the gun at the exact second Ursula said, simply, “Sir?”

And he looked at her.

Looked at Ariel, at Whale.

Looked up into the camera and Will sighed.

“Let him go, Killian,” he heard Emma whisper. “I’ve got your back. We’ve got your back.”

Killian hesitated; his hand shook and Emma wished so desperately she could take it in hers, put her thumb against his wrist and press a gentle, calming circle there.

“Killian,” Emma said, “be a better man than your father.”

Brennan Jones stood at the edge of the station along the train tracks but the train had, literally, already left the station.

Emma Swan walked toward him with Nemo keeping stride, Sheriff Nolan walking ahead of them both.

“Brennan Jones,” Nolan drawled, “you are bound by law.”

Brennan’s eyes widened in startled recognition as he looked at Emma and he smiled.

“Am I though?” he laughed. “Am I really? Check your codes again, Sheriff. She’s not a Fed, or whatever she says she is--she’s a thief.”

“Ran it twice,” Nolan said. “She’s clear.”

“Go ahead, Sheriff,” Nemo said. “One more time. We don’t mind. Authorization code one-zero-two-six. Scorpio.”

With a put-upon shrug Nolan swiped across the datapad and held it up. Federation Operative Emma Swan flashed across the screen with a photo and an arrest warrant. Emma enjoyed watching him as it hit him, the blood draining from his face and his tongue darting out to lick his lip. Brennan ran a hand through his hair in a gesture uncannily like Killian.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in quite the robbery, Mr. Jones,” Sheriff Nolan said. “I’ve got orders here to put you in custody and send you back to--” his eyes widened and he clucked his tongue against his teeth as he shook his head “--Neverland. Well.”

“I didn’t do it,” Brennan said, pointing a finger at Emma. “I’m innocent.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically and shared a smirk with the sheriff. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Everyone’s innocent in Neverland.”

“Sheriff,” Brennan was pleading. “She’s not who she says she is. She’s a--”

Nemo grabbed his arm and twisted it, making Brennan wince.

“My own son,” Brennan said. “More ruthless than me. Crueler than me.” His eyes hardened and something unpleasant glittered in his irises. “You tell my son,” he muttered. “You tell my him--”

Emma turned away, waving at Nolan to step forward with the cuffs.

“--tell him I’m proud of him.”

Emma turned back. “Enjoy Neverland.”

Killian exhaled as he turned the ship’s wheel, piloting the Jolly Roger out of orbit and closer to the surface of Persephone. Emma stood behind him, looking out the cockpit windshield. The sun was setting and it refracted through the atmo.

“Well, that’s a joyful sight,” Killian muttered, looking up at Emma.

“Gotta love a sunset,” she sighed.

“That too,” he said. And winked.

“Almost like coming home,” Emma said, her fingers scratching and lazy at the back of his neck. He shivered.

Home.

She was his home. This was his family.

“We sniff the air,” he reminded her. “We don’t kiss the dirt.”

“Noted, Captain,” she said. “But I wasn’t planning on the dirt-kissing. Sir.”

“I wouldn’t stand for it anyways,” Killian said. He locked the wheel into place and pushed back in his seat, smiling up at her the entire time as lightness rushed through his body. “Jealous man like me.”

“Hey--eyes front, please,” Robin said, walking in and making a face. “Planet’s coming up a mite fast. You’re coming down too quick. Likely gonna crash and kill us all.”

Killian stood up and pulled Emma’s hand into his. His eyes never left hers.

“That happens,” he said to Robin, “let me know.”

“Hey,” Emma whispered, pushing the fringe off of Killian’s forehead as he opened one bleary, sleepy eye and stared at her. They were a tangle of limbs and sheets in the berth. “You were some kind of hero today, Jones.”

He nuzzled into her hand and wrapped her more tightly against him. “Mmmmm.”

It was not agreement.

“Trust me, you have a mark in the hero column,” Emma said, bending so her lips brushed against his ear. “Killian?”

“Mmmm?”

“Will you tell me about him, someday?” Killian’s eyes opened, both of them, and he stared at her in surprise. “Your younger brother?”

He stilled and then exhaled, a brush of warmth against her palm. “Aye, love. Someday. But not today, yeah?”

Emma snuggled herself against him, dropping her head to his shoulder. “Someday,” she agreed.

They had all the time in the world.

--30--

@quirkykayleetam

#cs fic #space pirates #firefly #also leverage #because who doesnt love a con and a heist

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

Text

Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 3 years

Text

Crescent || Chapter 8

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 4,473 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character, more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: Fighting, Blood

Summary:

"What is going on?!" Hongjoong asked as he approached Jongho, noticing the mob himself. "Good fucking lord I'm gonna have to talk to Yeosang about this." He groaned.

AO3

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Tagged: @angel0taiyo

San managed to sneak away from the crew when Hongjoong and Yunho locked themselves in the main quarters and he was forced to wait before he could go back to work. Instead, he went down to the hold and made sure there was no one there but him. Once he had made sure, he took out his communicator and contacted his boss. When he answered, San knew just by the look on his face that he was in trouble.

"Soldier San, code CS-710-28, reporting sir." San saluted.

"Fancy seeing you, code CS-710-28!" His boss replied with sarcasm. "You know, it's been quite impossible to get a hold of you, I wonder why that is?"

San didn't have an excuse. He had been thinking about his mission over and over, but each time he found himself less willing to commit to it. It wasn't only because it was difficult. San hated to admit it, but all the people he had killed before had deserved it to a point, at least most of them. Hongjoong, on the other hand... He just wasn't sure there he did.

"My apologies, sir." San bowed deeply. It was nothing to appease his boss, of course, but what else could he do.

"Stop with the useless apologies!" He yelled, and San cringed, looking around to make sure the sound hadn't brought unpleasant attention.

He didn't find the idea of killing Hongjoong very appealing anymore, but he absolutely detested killing people who weren't his target, even for the sake of fulfilling his mission. When nobody came to check what was going on, he exhaled deeply and stood straight, looking at his boss. His boss' face expressed perfectly all the anger he was feeling, and San hoped things wouldn't escalate.

"I imagine you haven't even fulfilled your mission yet, have you?" His boss asked, pointing a finger at him.

"No, sir..." San bowed his head slightly, knowing that not even looking sorry would be worse.

"You fucking-!"

San was quick to mute the call as his boss began to yell, his heart racing as he looked around once more. This had been a terrible idea. He should have used the opportunity and left the ship in order to make the call, and although the sound outside provided a bit of protection, there wasn't much he could do if there was someone outside of the hold. When his boss stopped yelling, San unmuted the call.

"Did you mute me?" His boss asked, face race with anger as he sat down again.

"Yes, sir." San nodded. "Sorry sir, I didn't want to bring unwanted attention to the place I'm in currently."

"At least you still have some brain left in that useless head of yours," his boss huffed. San tightened his lips but didn't say anything. "I want progress code CS-710-28, I don't care if you lose a limb or die for this mission, because if you don't, they're gonna want to have my head on a silver plate."

"Understood, sir." San nodded.

As soon as the call ended, he put away his communicator and sighed. This was starting to get out of his hands and he didn't know what to do about it anymore. The more that time passed, the less he saw an opportunity of getting alive out of this mission. It was a problem that he didn't even feel particularly moved to do anything about it, especially since waiting had become the only way to extend his life.

After taking a few minutes to calm down, he exited the hull and went up to the deck. He didn't notice Hongjoong and Yunho right outside of the door until they called for him, startling him enough to make him yelp. He walked towards them, a mild feeling akin to panic settling in his stomach. They couldn't have been listening in to his conversation, right? They wouldn't look so calm if they had.

"San, come here for a moment," Hongjoong beckoned him over, motioning for him with one hand.

"What is it, Captain?" San asked as he approached them, heart beating fast in his chest.

"I told you to call me Hongjoong..." Hongjoong complaining, frowning. San blushed slightly, peaking at Yunho who looked amused at most.

"You said to do so when there's no one else," San muttered, looking back at Hongjoong, who laughed at his reply.

"Yunho barely counts as a formal crew member," Hongjoong said jokingly, shrugging it off when Yunho complained at him about the amount of work he got in that case.

San stared at them bicker softly for a moment, bewildered. He knew, from the information he had read to prepare for his mission, that they were both dating. Yet, it was so weird to see them interact like that in reality, so intimate with each other even at moments when they weren't alone. San had never been like that with anyone, and he couldn't help but feel curious.

"Are the two of you dating?" The question escaped his lips before he could even think it over properly. He already knew they were, why had he even asked? "Ah, sorry..." He apologized quickly, but Hongjoong broke in a fit of giggles.

"Damn it! I lost the bet," he complained, pushing San softly. "Why did you have to ask first?!" San looked at him in complete confusion, the situation made absolutely no sense to him. What bet? And why was he part of it?

"We're gonna have to pay Siyeon," Yunho chuckled. "We could not tell her, you know? Since she wasn't here."

"That's lying Yunho," Hongjoong pouted. "I don't like lying."

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" San interrupted, slightly annoyed that he didn't know what was going on when he was, somehow, involved.

"I'm sorry, please don't be mad." Hongjoong was quick to apologize, face turning into one of worry in just seconds. San felt bad for making him feel bad, and he didn't like that.

"To answer the multitude of questions in your mind, yes, we are dating," Yunho intervened, calmly taking over the explanation. "We're not particularly akin to keeping it hidden though, but we didn't want to be obvious about it either. Siyeon and Hwanwoong are close friends of ours, and we decided to bet who in the crew would ask first."

"I honestly thought it would be Jongho, he has caught us more than a couple times." Hongjoong sighed, pushing his hair back.

San couldn't help but notice how his brown roots were starting to show, and he caught himself swallowing. Hongjoong's pink hair had already been losing color when they first met, and had looked closer to white more than anything, but now his roots were beginning to show, and it gave him a completely different look. Yunho seemed to notice if his grin was anything to go by when he touched Hongjoong's hair while looking directly into San's eyes. San had the decency to look away instead.

"I thought it'd be Mingi, with the way he always gets so flustered around everything," Yunho shrugged. "You need to touch up your roots." The comment was simple, but it was enough to make San's cheeks burn red.

"Why did you want to speak with me?" San was quick to change the topic, wanting to just leave the two be their disgustingly cheesy selves in peace.

"Ah right," Hongjoong seemed to remember why he had beckoned him in the first place. "I just wanted to know if everything was alright with you? I heard you say something weird when we first arrived to the planet and it worried me a little..."

San looked at Hongjoong with mild confusion and tried to think back to their arrival. Had it been when he mentioned how Tebos reminded him of his own home planet? Was Hongjoong worried about him? It was obvious he was trying to push him to say something, but if San revealed where he came from, they would immediately suspect him. It was sweet, but really unhelpful to his will for fulfilling the mission.

"Well, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want," Hongjoong was quick to add when he noticed San wasn't going to speak up. "Just know I'm here if you want to talk."

"Thank you Cap-" San interrupted himself when Hongjoong gave him a warning gaze, and quickly corrected his words. "Thank you Hongjoong, I'll keep it in mind. I'll go if you don't need me for anything else?"

Hongjoong and Yunho both shook their heads no and so San left. He went all the way to the Forecastle Deck, wanting to get away from them as much as possible. Once he was there, he let a long, relieved sigh out, and leaned against the railing, just grateful that he had been able to get away from that one. For all he was trying to delay his inevitable death, everyone seemed to want to make it an impossible task for him.

"What did I get dragged into...?" He sighed, ruffling his hair. He needed to make a decision quick, before it was too late.

They took a detour from the main streets and used all of the alleyways Yeosang knew of. They couldn't go too fast because of Mingi's leg, but at the very least the lack of space would make it more difficult for the mob to chase them.

"Why are they chasing you?!" Mingi yelled as he did his best to follow Yeosang's pace.

It hurt him every time he had to step hard onto his wooden leg, but he didn't complain. If he stopped even for a second to do so, the mob would catch up to them, and he didn't feel like being beaten with sticks and pipes.

"Promise you won't be mad at me!" Yeosang yelled, looking back briefly to assess the situation, and then making a sharp turn to his right. "Or that you won't think differently of me!"

"Why would you be worried about that?" Mingi was worried, was it something that bad that Yeosang was worried.

"I want us to be friends!" Yeosang yelled, blushing slightly. Mingi gaped at him for a few seconds, before nodding. Then he realized Yeosang wasn't actually looking at him.

"I promise!" Mingi shouted back.

"I stole from all of them!" Yeosang explained.

"You what?!"

As they made another turn, the port became visible to them, and both began running faster now that they were so close. Jongho was waiting for them and he seemed confused at their running until he noticed the very angry mob running behind them. He quickly turned to alert the rest of the crew.

"What is going on?!" Hongjoong asked as he approached Jongho, noticing the mob himself. "Good fucking lord I'm gonna have to talk to Yeosang about this." He groaned.

Hongjoong was quick to descend the ship as he noticed Mingi trip. Instead of running, Yeosang went back for him and threw himself over Mingi, he wasn't very big, so he couldn't offer much protection, but it was him whom they wanted anyway. They quickly disappeared from Hongjoong's sight as the mob closed in on them, and Hongjoong ran towards them with his sword transformed into some sort of baton.

Yunho and the rest of his soldiers quickly followed him to protect him, not even waiting for his orders. Yunho wasn't particularly worried about Hongjoong, having seen the glare he had directed at the poor people that had decided to attack one of his own. Hongjoong descended on them with fury and speed, quickly diverting the attention of some of the assailants towards him, who weren't very happy of someone interfering with their revenge.

Their Captain wasn't kin on hurting people for fun, so he was holding back, but even then the townspeople were no match for him. Honjoong disarmed a couple of men by hitting their arms with the baton. Not even the nasty cracks that could be heard from some of his hits deterred him. The rest of his soldiers were quick to help him, and soon, they had managed to make a path to Mingi and Yeosang.

"Get up, quickly!" Hongjoong yelled as he kicked one man in the stomach, pushing him to the floor. "Hwanwoong, get them to the ship!" He ordered.

Hwanwoong hit a man on the leg, making him fall to his knees, and then bashed him on the head to render him unconscious. As soon as he was done, he made his way towards the pair and put Mingi's arm on his shoulders, helping Yeosang carry him to the ship. Hongjoong was right behind them, making sure no one got close enough to hurt them, and Yunho joined him right after.

As soon as they were far enough from the biggest part of the mob and Yeosang and Mingi had boarded the ship, Hongjoong whistled to get the attention of his crew. Everyone immediately began to back up, running towards the ship while trying to keep the angry mob at bay. Hongjoong waited on the ground, wanting to make sure his crew was safe before boarding.

When almost all of the crew had made it up, Hongjoong heard a gunshot. It didn't hurt anyone, fortunately, but he could clearly see the dent on his ship where the bullet had broken through. His eyes darkened as his baton morphed into a sword, and electricity started flowing through it, crackling like a thunderstorm.

"You dare fire against my crew?" He growled.

Everyone froze around him. Hongjoong advanced towards the townsfolk that had previously been attacking them and now stood frozen in fear. If Hongjoong had possessed the ability to kill with his eyes, everyone would have fallen dead by now, but the threat of his electric sword was far more real.

The people moved away as he walked towards the man that had fired the gun. Yunho focused on getting the rest of the crew aboard the ship, and then followed Hongjoong, ready to pull him back and run away. Finally, Hongjoong stopped in front of the man and raised his sword, pointing it directly to the man's chest.

"Come on, do it," Hongjoong dared him. "Fire the gun against my crew again, and I'll stop your heart." His tone was low and dark.

The man had begun sweating profusely. The hand that was holding the gun pointed towards the ship shook as he lowered it slowly, dropping the gun to the floor. Hongjoong scoffed before letting out a laugh, he was still holding his sword millimetres away from the man's chest as everyone looked at them.

"That's what I thought." Hongjoong put his sword down and walked away.

He didn't turn around or try to keep an eye on the man, he knew he wouldn't be picking up that gun again any time soon. Yunho gave him a warning look, but Hongjoong only smiled and shrugged it off, the dangerous look disappearing from his eyes. All of the crew was looking at him with a mix of fear and amazement, but Hongjoong paid them no mind, he was used to it.

As soon as they boarded the ship, Hongjoong made his way to the wheel and ordered them to pick up the anchor. Soon enough, they had set sail, and with the new location marked in their map, Hongjoong left Hwanwoong on the wheel and went to check on Mingi and Yeosang. He could still feel the way his heart had dropped in his chest when he had seen the crowd engulf them.

Handong, the ship's medic, was tending to both of them in their little infirmary. She had already finished patching Yeosang up, who had nothing but a few scratches and purples blotches where the crowd had hit him while he was covering Mingi. The latter, on the other hand, was lying on the bed with his eyes full of tears of pain.

The stump of his leg was red where his wooden leg had dented when he fell and had scratched him all over as it came loose. It wasn't a serious injury, fortunately, but he still seemed very upset and in pain. As Handong healed his wounds, Hongjoong sat down next to him and held his hand softly, trying to bring him some consolation.

"I'm so sorry Mingi," Yeosang apologized, and by the look of Mingi's face, Hongjoong could tell this was not the first time he had done so.

"I told you it's fine," Mingi sniffled, trying really hard not to cry, especially now that he was being given such sweet attention from his Captain.

"I'm really sorry though, you should have told me it was hurting you to walk so fast," Yeosang looked distraught.

"You're worse for wear, why would someone do something so dumb like covering me?" Mingi retaliated, even more upset. "You're so small too, it should've been the other way around."

"I'm not small! I just didn't want you to get hurt because of me-"

"Alright, I'm stopping you two right there," Hongjoong intervened, raising a hand. Handong shoot him a grateful look as she finished patching Mingi up. "What is this? A lovers' quarrel? You two met yesterday." He joked, and it seemed to work well enough as they both blushed but stopped arguing. "Mingi, are you alright?"

Hongjoong decided to ask the miner first. He had been with him for longer and seemed to be the one upset about the situation the most. Mingi nodded, but didn't dare to look at Hongjoong, and he wondered if it was because he had gotten scared about his little 'power demonstration' from earlier. He decided not to insist and focus on Yeosang instead.

"How about you Yeosang?"

"I'm okay, a little roughed up, but I'll live." Yeosang replied, unable to hold back his mild sarcasm. Hongjoong laughed it off and nodded.

"That I can see..." Hongjoong sighed. "Thank you for protecting Mingi, even though the situation itself was pretty much your fault." Hongjoong added, carefully observing Yeosang's expression. Yeosang pursed his lips but nodded.

"I know, I'm sorry..." Yeosang sighed. "I really didn't think that would happen."

"It's alright." Hongjoong smiled. "The good thing is you're both safe, so rest for now, I have to go do other things."

He made sure they were comfortable before leaving the room. As he was walking out, he stumbled upon Jongho who was hurrying into the room, looking worried sick. Hongjoong thought of stopping him halfway and telling him it was alright, but in the end he decided to just let him go and figure it out himself.

Yunho met him at the main deck. He had just finished giving instructions to the crew about what they would be doing next, since they needed to take care of the fight that had happened in Tebos and also get safely to another planet to fill their tank. Yunho gave him an unimpressed look as Hongjoong approached him with a wide smile.

"You made one hell of a show down there," Yunho commented offhandedly. Hongjoong's shoulders raised with pride as he gently pushed his boyfriend.

"It was fun, I have to admit I do miss the battleground a little bit," Hongjoong chuckled.

"To be chased by an angry mob for serial robbery is not, in my opinion, fun." Yunho huffed. Probably only someone like Hongjoong would say it was fun. Everyone else in the crew had looked very stressed out when he had jumped right into the battle without giving it a second thought.

"I guess not," Hongjoong shrugged, smile still on his face.

"You know, if you miss it, you can always ask me out on a duel." Yunho suggested, looking at Hongjoong.

"Don't you mean ask you out on a date?" Hongjoong looked back at him, slightly confused.

"No, I meant a duel, I know you miss sword fighting and all that," Yunho smiled at him, but his voice was serious. "We can ask the crew to keep away from the deck for a little while and spar, it might also be a good way to deal with the tension you've been getting from the whole... treasure hunt."

"You know what?" Hongjoong smiled, grabbing Yunho's hand. "That's not a bad idea, thank you."

"Oh, are we doing more public displays of affection now?" Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"Why? We can't?" Hongjoong smiled teasingly at him, interlacing their fingers. "It's not like we did a great job at hiding it before."

"You're very right about that, but..." Yunho let go of his hand and turned him around, using his hands to push Hongjoong towards his quarters. "I'm afraid you have work to do, Captain, we'll have to be affectionate some other time."

"Unfair!" Hongjoong complained, but he still let Yunho guide him.

"Only to you," Yunho smiled. "And usually in your favor anyway, so you can't complain."

"Fine," Hongjoong huffed. "See you later then." He pulled Yunho down from the neck of his shirt and kissed him. But just as Yunho was leaning more into the kiss, Hongjoong stepped into his quarters and closed the door on his face.

Yeosang's dream this time was calm and almost empty. He was sitting on a small deck, with his feet dangling inside the waters of a lake. Wooyoung sat down next to him and looked into the water at their reflections. He met Yeosang's eyes through the reflection and smiled at him, Yeosang smiled back before looking up and looking at the real Wooyoung.

"Did it go well?" Wooyoung asked. He tried his best not to show how he had been worried sick about Yeosang's situation. He had been waiting impatiently for the time to pass so that Yeosang would go to sleep again and Wooyoung would be able to check on him.

"Yeah! I got a really bad beating, but it wasn't from the crew." Yeosang smiled. "I'm a crew member now, actually... And Hongjoong risked his life to save me, as well." He mumbled the last part, and Wooyoung looked at him in surprise.

"He did?" Wooyoung asked, leaning closer to Yeosang. That was not something he had expected.

"Well, he didn't do it only for me, Mingi was there too... Actually, he might have done it for Mingi, it just so happened that I was there too." Yeosang chuckled. "Still, I want to repay him."

"Oh, believe me, you will." Wooyoung smiled. "Your time will come."

Yeosang smiled and they went back to looking into the reflection. They stayed in silence for a little while, just admiring the little waves their feet made in the water, and playing with the occasional fish that would come visit them to the surface. Eventually, Yeosang turned to look at Wooyoung with a serious expression, and Wooyoung couldn't help the way his heart pressed hard against his chest.

"Wooyoung..." Yeosang began, claiming his attention.

"Hm?" Wooyoung didn't want to look at him though, feeling nervous from the serious mood that had settled upon them.

"Thank you for talking to Hongjoong, I really wanted to get out of that place," Yeosang explained, still looking directly at him. "But can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead." Wooyoung nodded.

"What are you?" Yeosang finally asked, but his question came out more breathless than he had intended. "You said you're not just part of my dream, so what are you?"

Wooyoung sighed and pulled his feet out of the water, hugging his legs close to his chest. This was the question he had feared the most. He was afraid of exposing himself, afraid of being found outside of his planet and being captured and sold to the highest bidder. However, this was one of the people destined to be with him, so he had to trust him. Wooyoung was going to choose to trust Yeosang.

"You can't tell anyone about this, alright?" Wooyoung warned him, finally looking at Yeosang. "Honestly it's probably still too early to tell you, but I don't think it'll interfere with the flow of things." Wooyoung mumbled. "Just promise me you won't tell anyone, yet."

"I promise," Yeosang's face paled slightly, suddenly fearful of what Wooyoung was about to say.

"I'm a Somnum, I can see visions of the future and the past in my dreams, and I can also travel to other people's dreams." Wooyoung let out all at once. His chest felt lighter once he did, relieved that he could finally tell someone about it.

"Wait, Somnum are real?" Yeosang almost yelled, clearly shocked at the revelation.

"W-What...?" Wooyoung looked at him, almost equally surprised. "Of course we are real, I'm here in your dream, aren't I?" Wooyoung scoffed.

"W-Well, yeah, but..." Yeosang laughed, awkward. "I didn't think your species was real... I'd never seen one of you before, you look... human."

"Why? Disappointed?" Wooyoung smiled, feeling slightly mischievous. "Would you prefer me to look like something else?"

"No, actually, it's kind of relieving that you're not... weird looking." Yeosang mumbled, shaking his head. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow and smiled at him, leaning closer.

"Why is that?" He asked, pressing against Yeosang's shoulder.

"Nothing, stop being annoying." Yeosang pushed him away, making him laugh. "Why my dreams, though?"

"Well, every Somnum has a mission to achieve in their life, and that mission is revealed to us through a dream." Wooyoung explained, looking into the water again.

"Was I in your dream?" Yeosang asked, feeling slightly daring. Wooyoung looked into his eyes and smiled.

"You were, actually, and some others." Wooyoung remembered the faces of the rest. Everyone was in the ship now, except one, and he wondered how they would find him.

"Who else?" Yeosang asked, excited at the revelation.

"That... I cannot tell you yet." Wooyoung smiled mischievously. "Believe me, you'll figure it out."

"Is Captain Hongjoong one of them?" Yeosang asked out of the blue, making Wooyoung open his eyes wide. "He is! Isn't he?" Yeosang laughed as Wooyoung tried to deny it, but there was no point. "You should get better at hiding your reactions if you don't want others to know what you are."

"Mind your own business." Wooyoung muttered. "One more thing, Yeosang."

"What is it?" Yeosang put his arms behind his back, leaning back.

"Can you tell me where you are heading to? I need to try to catch up." Wooyoung explained.

"I don't think you'll manage to catch up to us on the next planet, we're only going there to fill up our tank," Yeosang explained, looking a bit sorry. "But we're going to Umeri."

"It's okay, I'm not supposed to reunite with you just yet, you're gonna have to wait a little more." Wooyoung smiled, putting his feet back in the water.

"Sure thing," Yeosang smiled, looking up at the star-covered sky of his dreams. "I'll wait for you."

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #atz #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #crescent #bluenicorn writes

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adelcrait-old-account · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found— Chapter 15: The Boss

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522103/chapters/64196512

After discovering a security breach, Vader sends Luke and Piett undercover to a bar frequented by criminals, hoping to run into the woman that is planning to defeat the Empire.

Meme spoilers and a rant under the cut:

Hello!

This chapter was a long time coming thing. I wanted to change the scenario and get them all to an actual planet with real air. Luke’s been up in space for weeks, but Piett must have been there for a few months, if not a year. I’m sending him on a vacation, he deserves it.

July me also thought it was the funniest idea to write Piett, unmasked Vader and Luke in a bar talking about Vader. Luke would introduce unmasked Vader as “his mortal enemy”, and Piett would believe it. I also find it incredibly amusing (to me) that Vader refuses to act as another person because: a) *dramatic spotlight* He is Darth Vader, a Dark Lord of the Sith, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, current temporary Emperor, Leader of the Imperial Security Bureau, Leader of the not-so-secret Investigation against the Galactical Insurrection....He will not do something as foolish as acting. Do you even know who he is? He is Darth Vader, a Dark Lord of the Sith- b) He refuses to act as Agent Broly because he just doesn’t care. In the end he did reveal his identity to Piett, and he knew it was a risk coming there unmasked, but there is trust between them, and so Vader doesn’t see the point of acting as this Agent Broly.

For some reason when I first started writing Agent Broly I imagined a tall surfer himbo of some sort. Do with this information whatever you want.

1. The Boss

Now onto the star of the night, Anak- sorry. *coughs* the spotlight please? Thank you. nOW ONTO THE STAR OF THE CHAPTER: Darth Vader, a Dark Lord of the Sith, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, current temporary Emperor, Leader of the Imperial Security Bureau, Leader of the not-so-secret Investigation against the Galactical Insurrection... My mans a bit out of character, but hey! This is an Alternate Universe where Vader when stressed acts like clone wars Anakin because there is enough love in my heart for all versions of this character.

The real boss of the chapter is Miss Celissa Vanis, finally making an appearance after Chapter 6, when Luke and Vader just found her in the Coruscant rebel base. Remember those times? Feels like ages ago. Where has she been? What is she doing? Does anyone know what she’s doing? Do I know what she’s doing? What is her Modus Operandi? Does she have one?

Listen.......She’s out there getting stuff done. It took her less than six months to scare The Darth Vader, kidnap Palpatine and Mothma and start a very organised clandestine riot. SHE’S GETTING SHIT DONE.

I really like her. She is the antagonist of the story, yes, but hey! She’s charming and makes some very good points even if the execution of her ideas is....well, bad. People are dying. But she makes sense, even if I, as a person that is also reading the story and has opinions, disagree with her.

Celissa had a dramatic entrance, and she also got a dramatic exit. It has taken me over 70,000 words, but I finally decided to include something about...you know. That guy.

Celissa stared at the ship. Her people looked at her for guidance, but she didn't have any. She was already planning to get rid of Darth Vader's new Sith apprentice. "You! Pick up the blasters and let's go. The Emperor has some questions to answer."

Palpatine, answering questions? Celissa, teach me your ways.

2. ‘The Skywalkers: I am The Last Skywalker Left, both Skywalkers say’ A STAR WARS STORY

These two... I know they’re related, you know they’re related, everyone knows they’re related, and I know that they will know that they’re related (I’m not telling you the How yet ;D) but...they share one brain cell, and in this chapter Luke has it. Which is understandable, because Vader is out of his comfort zone and has a lot on his plate. He probably hasn’t been to a space!bar since that time Hondo kidnapped Obi-Wan and him...about twenty-five years ago.

Luke, on the other hand, spent most of his life on Tatooine. He probably befriended ‘cool looking people’ in Mos Eisley when he was five and his Uncle had to drag him away because those people were dangerous. Luke in a bar filled with dangerous people is like a fish in the sea. But I think that the fact that Luke and Vader are related by blood will just be a major Plus when the truth is revealed, because I already see that they’re vibing as friends. Hell, they even argue like children through the Force because Vader’s being snarky (because he’s out of his comfort zone) and Luke is just not letting him get away with things Vader usually did.

Hey, and I love them for that.

3. ‘The not-a Commander, Someone Help Him’

I would quote Rickey Thompson’s you are my ride or die video, but I want you to watch it. This is me talking about Luke in this fic. The Commander, Ben Starkiller. As I said before, Luke is more comfortable in the ground with the normal people because he spent most of his life on Tatooine with his Aunt and Uncle, moisture farmers. He understands people, he understands crime, he has seen people being wrongly accused of crimes they did not commit. So when Darth Vader starts talking about criminals, Luke steps in. He said this in Chapter 3, and his position still stands. He might not officially be a rebel anymore, but his morality hasn’t shifted:

Vader continued staring at him. “Why did you join [The Rebellion] ?” Luke clenched his jaw. “The Empire is a rotten, corrupt fascist state that supports slavery and massive genocide,” he said calmly with a shrug, “I have witnessed enough to see that something must be done against it.” “That is all theory, Commander. I am asking what caused you personally to be against it.” “I won't watch how innocent people are killed because the Emperor threw a tantrum.” Vader wanted to say that his Master never lost his composure: out of both of them he was the most likely to throw tantrums. Sidious was more strategic in his murders. “The Empire took the life of someone you knew.” Luke clenched his jaw. “A great deal of many people, sir. This is a war.” He would never reveal what the Empire did to his aunt and uncle, he wouldn't give Vader that pleasure. "No one cares about murders on Tatooine."

4. Hondo Ohnaka, Forever Young

I loved him in the Clone Wars and in Rebels. This is the man that when confronted by Darth Maul and Savage Opress, said the following:

Darth Maul: "Filth, you will pay for your insolence." Hondo Ohnaka: "Insolence! We are pirates! We don't even know what that means. Open fire!"

I can only imagine the kind of stories there are about this man in the galaxy, and Luke has heard them all, so when he heard that Hondo said Vader tried to kill him, I just imagined this:

Imagine sending this without context to someone that hasn’t read my fic but knows the star wars lore....I would be very confused. It could also be an AU where Hondo finds baby!Luke and raises him as a pirate, and then Vader comes for his child and finds Luke Ohnaka speaking fluent pirate slang with the man that raised him.

In case you didn’t know, Hondo kidnapped Anakin and Obi-Wan for ‘business’ in the clone wars TV show. After that, Anakin was too distracted with the war to go find Hondo again, so they left on neutral-to-bad terms. On the long list of people that Vader wouldn’t want to see him unmasked, Hondo is at the bottom, because Vader doesn’t even remember he exists. Imagine you’re Vader (I know, I know), you’re approximately forty-five years old, drowning in work, undercover in a mission, arguing with this boy who is accusing you of being “impossible”, and then he goes very quiet and says “That’s Hondo Ohnaka.” The name is oddly familiar, and you turn around and you see him. That dude that kidnapped you when you were only twenty years old. This was over 25 YEARS AGO, surely he won’t remember you, right?

Right?

5. Captain Kathmir, who?

Captain to Darth Vader at the start of the Empire, led the 501st to battles, a very well known figure in the Imperial Fleet...so why doesn’t Vader want to talk about her?

Piett spoke. "Yes, precisely. [...] Everyone knows what happened to Captain Kathmir."

The Force stopped ticking.

Luke frowned. "Who?"

"Nobody," said Vader urgently, "Drop the topic, now."

She disappeared after failing him. What happened?

The Force became cold, and Luke shivered when Vader spoke. "The story is a lie built on childish rumours." he spat quietly.

In case that you’re thinking Vader might have had something with this Captain, the answer is No. In my humble opinion, in canon, I don’t see Vader having anything with anyone that wasn’t Padmé, and this extends to all my fics. There are enough headcanons for everyone.

And to conclude, a wholesome one:

Thank you for sticking with my nocturnal ramblings about this story! I’m posting another chapter in a few days, where they will do Force magic in the snow.

#lost and found #My posts #my fics

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p1nkwitch · 3 years

Note

I have plenty of questions about your fanfics I don't even know when to start. Can I just name every one of them and send you star with it?

But please tell me something interesting funfact behind Heart Machinations? Also were you at some point considering bad/different ending?

i think i would never finish writing if you did send me all of them even with the star, i ramble a lot and go on tangents, but if you send them like 3 fics per day i can make it i promise.

Ok to start! Nope! This was the story where i literally envisioned the ending first and had to go backwards to write it. The ending was solid.

But for fun facts!! Oh boy.

This entire story begun with the idea of a one shot, with a slight different plot, it would have ended with Peter as an old man uploading his mind like he promised Elias in the fic and coming back as an Ai, to stay with Elias for as long as they could. I ended up switching things arounf in my head until i ended up with the image.

The thing that started this entire fic.

Peter floating in space with Elias declaring his love.

I was forced by the entire story to find ways to keep them from confessing earlier than intended. God did i regret having to put it so later, because the mental flips i needed to justify them not realizing, were driving me up to a wall.

Another thing that i was not aiming for, but ended up liking was the TimPeter, i didnt aim for it to be a plot point, i didnt even ship them, but i wrote them so well i actually hesitated. Not to the Elias romance with Peter that was a given, but i hesitated to actually make a policule out of everyone.

In the end i decided to go for my original plan, but it had been a posibility.

Most of the relationships surged as the soty progressed, because i realized if it was only them it would get boring so i started to shuffle characters and relationships and it worked far better than i intended.

Now the other interesting tidbit.

Was that originally i was intending for Elias to be the actual big bad, a la Glados in portal. Elias tricks Tim and Peter into thinking Jon went rouge and he got Leitner killed so Peter connects him, Elias pretends things are normal but sends him off to rrepair something outside, once Peter is safe he uses the gas to kill everyone who is not going to be sent to do experiments in the hidden labs.

Martin opens the door for Peter makes him help by trying Elias like the original one did to get himshut down. He realizes and hurt tries to attack him, Martin uses the portal door and Peter still tries to hold unto Elias, but they ended up slipping and going into space.

The Simon plot point was always going to be there, same as the oxygen and confession.They apologize and everything.

In fact Peter was never supposed to realize Elias was killing people until he takes over. I realized it would be impossible to keep him in the dark for so long along with the not confessing so i had to give one up for the story and i was set on my ways.

The more i developed them, the more i started to change the plot to fit better with the new narrative wanting it to be more satisfiying.

Something else that i changed in the story, was that after Leitner dies, Gertrude was supposed to come to check the station, Elias sees her and gets her killed. It did not pan out of course, because i considered it would be too out of nowhere.

When i realize the story was sort of getting shifted i went with the idea to switch the notSasha on its head. Which created lovely Pasha!! Whom i love a lot.

Another thing that i had to develop because i grew very fond of it were Missy and Titania. Particularly Missy, since Titania was a stand in for the vast in some ways. Missy was needed to provide Peter some form of love, since yes, i made the Lukas terrible people, but a child still needs some love to grow and i wanted someone to help with that since Simon couldnt. I love her a lot and honestly wish i could use her in more stories because she is a great character. I know people dont really are in it for the original characters but she is dear to me.

The honest to god most fun i had during the story was writting the chats between the characters and the moments where Elias and Peter where being horny for each other. Peter freaking out silently about the things Elias said, while Elias was being the most horny creature in the station was delightful.

My favourite parts were also writing Elias realizing that he ruined Peter, that he had caused his misery, i wish i could have gone harder on those. Because they are a great part of his motivations. He starst not caring but the more he falls in love, the more he realizes how much of a horrible person he is and how much he is hurting Peter. I love that, i put it before but i like making characters go though bad stuff to get them to the good, to get that catharsis after all the bad.

I wanted to do a bonus. Where Peter does go to Simon’s funeral and everyone has to sit there while Android Simon was just chilling giving his own eulogy.

One thing i sort of chikened out of, but left crumbs around was the plot point that ogElias and Micheal Shelley were dating. Thats why Elias had the picture and writings about him. They split due to Gertrude and Elias defending JON4H. Its why Elias could keep Helen so easily to raise her. She calls him uncle, because they had broken up and he felt he didnt deserve to take that from Micheal.

Currently they made up and since Elias was single they are patching things up, Helen was thrilled.

This is also the story where the cats appear. And im so glad for it.

Captain was an idea based on the au of another fic i love Timeline of Theseus, i just pictured Peter getting the cat and voila. (No, there is no cat in there, but it would had been so funny) They were foils, Elias has a lonely cat and Peter a beholding one. They fall in love. I like that.

Thats all i can remember now. Nikola was always also a plot point, i mean who else would make androids but the puppet herself! Since ideally i intended for Elias to get a body, it was supposed to happen.

I went off, but i really did have a lot of ideas and scrapped ones that i figured no one would see. Im happy i could just leave them out to the world!!

So yes ask away, but as you can see, i sort of go off. Thanks for asking!!!! I hope its what you wanted. Sorry if it goes all over the place.

#ask #i went off im sorry #but seriously i had to scrap so many ideas #and adjust them later

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loafingdragon · 4 years

Note

who are your favorite top ten black clover characters & ships? talk about them!

A question? For me? 🤭 Let’s see if I can collect my thoughts long enough to answer! I’ll put things in no real order under the cut~

Kaiser Granvorka, captain of the Purple Orcas (sing that title. You will not regret it.)

Sometimes less is more. I love his design. I love his chill. I love his love of his wife. I love how he stepped up to clean up his trash squad.

Reve

I LOVE the elves and I really wish that they would get some recognition. Did you know that Phantom Knights just calls Reve and Charla “Dorothy (reincarnated)” and “Charlotte (reincarnated)”? They’re different people!! They have NAMES. Why wouldn’t they use their names?? The elves have so much lost potential!

Anyway, Reve is also very chill. A sleepy queen. I have a LOT of headcanons about her. I also have an au where the elves stay after reincarnation and share their bodies with their hosts, and she and Dorothy are best friends and girlfriends and hang out in glamour world together and I love them.

Nebra and Nozel Silva

Listen,,, she’s so pretty,,, I’m gay,,,

But in all seriousness, she’s my favorite Silva. She’s just sort of a mean, sexy lamp in the manga/anime, but she gets slightly more character development in Phantom Knights, where you see that she’s at least an honorable knight who really cares about getting things done right and even goes above and beyond the call of duty; she’s a lot more mature than Solid, and it even seems that she’s more concerned about capabilities than status at some points (much to Solid’s surprise.) That doesn’t mean she won’t go out of her way to make trouble, which is fun. The wiki also suggests she has confidence issues which is super interesting to me. I’d like to see her grow as a character or get like... even a little bit of attention at all besides backing up Nozel and Solid and getting stabbed. I also think her magic is really cool... would love to see her actually use it sometime.

-coughcough also since she gets so little screen time i can write her how i want in my fics and as far as we know it’s canon coughcough-

There’s more to her than her pretty, pretty face!! She’s probably my #1 favorite.

1) I love powerful fictional royals in general. 2) I love to write fics where he is embarrassed and vulnerable. Silvas deserve a healthy dose of humility whenever you can give it. He is an easy target with his uptight nature and silly hair. I’d also like him to grow as a character.

hehe look at Nebra peeking out of the corner of this pic lol

Fuegoleon, Mereoleona, and Leopold Vermillion

I am still a simp for powerful fictional royalty, okay? Everyone love the Vermillions. There is nothing I could say here that has not already been said, except that I love writing fics where Fuegoleon gets to be embarrassing and oblivious.

Dorothy Unsworth

She’s so cute and the coolest witch. Love her chaotic energy. Love how she knows things she probably shouldn’t. Always shaking it up. Another sleepy queen. I wish I could sleep all the time and still get my work done. Also since I made her my icon on discord, I have been cheerier.

Charla

I’m so deep in headcanons for this one but see my earlier elf complaint with Reve before continuing. Okay, understand? Charlotte is awesome, but the sheer hilarity of Charla and Charlotte sharing a body is what make Charla so, so good. The LAST thing Charla did before going away forever is SNITCH on Charlotte to her crush. This elf loves drama. She would help Charlotte so, so much, but also make her life a living hell. We stan a queen who can’t mind her own business.

Alecdora Sandler

This man is hilarious. He’s a full grown man ready to throw hands with a 15 year old because William gives him attention. He fell in a hole and had to be saved. Yuno let him declare all his love for William and then obliterated him. It’s so funny. It’s what this asshole deserves. A perfect, satisfying character arc and a hilariously embarrassing personality wins him his place among my faves. I love to hate him so much. I’d like to put a picture of his stupid face in a locket to look at and give me strength in any situation. “At least I’m not this man child,” I would say. A smile would tug at my lips as a single tear ran down my face. “Thank you, Alecdora,” I would whisper, holding his image close to my heart.

---

My favorites tend to change around with my moods, so maybe on any other given day, you would find Charlotte Roselei, Paplo Espuma, or Kirsch Vermillion (post royal knights exam humbling) on this list. Charlotte is badass, Paplo cute, and Kirsch is funny with cool magic. Also working with Charlotte on my blog, @lawstaverse makes me fond of her, and I have some fun party boy headcanons for Kirsch and the Coral Peacocks. Mimosa Vermillion is also super duper cute. Honestly, Jien Du could even be on here for being accused of being evil and then going “let me clear things up” and then just doing the super villain laugh- also for having rainbow lights flashing around him when he fights. I can hear carameldansen playing in the distance whenever he’s doing stuff.

Now for my favorite couples!

Fuegoleon Vermillion x Nozel Silva

This one is probably #1! They obviously care for and respect each other and a lot of Nozel’s dialogue gets... debatably romantic. I just really enjoy writing them in sort of ‘boys will be boys’ situations, where they can let their guard down around each other and their friends and be stupid and silly. I also love the idea of Fuegoleon being oblivious about how flirty he comes off. Nozel is pining but more in an annoyed way than a sad way. “No homo, bro,” says Fuegoleon, as he kisses Nozel on the lips and gives him a ring after they eat together and wrestle in the woods. Nozel rolls his eyes into the next solar system and admires his new wedding ring. Currently working on a 150k+ word slowburn bisexual disaster Fuegoleon fic with @thespiralgrimoire that involves this ship and the third on this list, along with tiny snippets of others.

Leopold Vermillion x Asta

Leo saw Asta do something cool and said “I’m done being classist. Actually I’m in love with you,” and never looked back. Every single Royal in Asta’s age group being obsessed with him is very very funny. I picture their relationship is much like Nozel and Fuegoleon’s as described above, but they’re BOTH extremely oblivious bros being romantic bros.

Fuegoleon Vermillion x Nebra Silva

Less my fave but still on here bc it’s fun. Nebra is fun, she can push Fuego out of his comfort zone, and also feel comfortable and confident with him. It’s nice. Ngl, anything that gives Nebra a chance to develop her character, whether it be in a friendly or romantic setting, is good.

Nebra is sexy. Fuegoleon is sexy. Together they are super sexy.

Reve x Dorothy Unsworth

I mentioned this briefly earlier, but they finally get someone who can share their world with them! Dorothy was so happy to have Reve in her head, and didn’t even regret being possessed at all. Also, Reve’s chill personality can balance out Dorothy’s excitable and unpredictable one! I think that them both being in dream world, with the magic power to look into each other’s minds(even more than other elf/human cohabitants) means that they can pretty easily become super duper close. They also have a space where they can physically meet. It’s kind of the best of both worlds.

Zara Ideale x Ina’s Father (did he really not get a name???)

There is no way you can convince me that Ina is not Zara and that man’s child. Look at their eyebrows. Rewatch episode 138. You’re lying to me if you tell me you don’t see it.

Nebra Silva x Zora Ideale

🤷🏽‍♀️ Punk and Prep is a fun combo, I like pitch romance, and the more info we get for Nebra, the more likely I see her willing to go vigilante and have a good time working with/ playing around with Zora. They both like to mess with people, Nebra appreciates a job well done, and Zora likes seeing people improve themselves. Nebra would def need to develop a bit for this to work, but I like to believe that would happen.

#Anonymous #black clover #ask #thank you anon #<3

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My dude, my buddy, my guy, my gal, my pal. Please yeet more of this daemon AU at me, I'm super interested in this whole idea and would love to hear more, how do all of the daemons interact with each other?? What are the little quirks shared between daemon and human?? Did any of them have a phase where they couldn't stand their daemon?? Did Vanya's owl claw out Leonard's eyes when the truth came out?? How exactly would they find out that Five's daemon didn't settle?? I'm living for this AU now

oh i am SO ready for more daemon au are you kidding here we go starting with some NAMES because all good ocs need names and while the first post was mainly for just saying what animal is what now i can develop it into a full au and no one can stop me

So the kids and their daemons share a name for most of their lives, they’re both just,, one or two and so on. But when they get names they run into the roadblock of “do our daemons get the same names as us??” and realize that their one (1) example of a human/daemon relationship is their dad he his daemon doesn’t share his name so… probably not. But he only ordered Grace to give the human in the relationship a name so it’s up to their what their daemons names will be

I’m thinking Luther probably gave his daemon a space themed name because he’s my good space boy so I’m going to name his daemon Andromeda after the galaxy !! I think she would have wanted a somewhat regal sounding name because she tries really hard to model herself after Reggie’s daemon, who is the very definition of regal. Luther calls her Dromeda or Drom for short occasionally

Diego’s daemon HMMM i’m gonna say Valencia, Val for short because that means brave and I think it would be important to Diego to have a defender of some kind and they both would want so desperately to be brave bless their hearts

oh man i am absolutely naming Allison’s daemon Amraphel which means “one that speaks of secrets” and Allison calls him Raph for short and he’s still lazy and I still love him a whole lot

Klaus’s daemon i’m admittedly a bit stuck on but i’m gonna call them Rowan because it’s a tree that symbolizes life and courage and as some very fearful kids with death powers I think they’d appreciate it. Rowan is nonbinary btw (”are you a girl or a boy” “i’m made of fucking dust why does it matter”)

I named Five’s daemon Pancha because I like it and I feel like naming her Quinque, which is Five in Latin, would be way obvious because if you think Reggie didn’t make these kids learn an archaic dead language because he’s a pretentious ass then you’re probably wrong so yes Pancha it is and when the kids figure out it’s literally the number five in another language they’re going to throw a fit

Ben’s daemon is named Tamaya which means in the center literally just because they’re in the middle of two planes of existence and one is full of monsters and also because i like the name Tama as well so this is really two birds with one stone and no one can stop me

and finally Vanya’s daemon is named Pollux for exactly no reason other than because I say so and it sounds like it could be a name for a daemons from the books which i was trying very hard for the aesthetic with all the names but it’s been so long since i’ve read them oops

ALRIGHT with that over with i can actually yell about them which i’m putting under the cut because this is going to be long as FUCK

so how the daemons interact with each other… I’m probably going to leave out Tamaya for most just bc most of them don’t know that she survived Ben’s death for like,, a really long time in the fic i have half planned in my head

SO i already mentioned Andromeda is kind of a stick in the mud and unimpressed with her siblings shenanigans. She tries really hard to emulate their dad/their dad’s daemon but doesn’t have the control on her temper that she should. She’s blunt and says what she’s thinking, she doesn’t really care about the fact that daemons don’t usually speak to people that aren’t their own and she’ll boss everyone around given the chance tbh

She doesn’t get along with Val at all and there’s a lot of posturing between the two especially after they both settle. Generally she’s dismissive but occasionally she taunts Val with the fact that she settled as something that protects against wolves, and that clearly Val is too wild to ever amount to much. Val hits right back calling her and Luther “Dad’s obedient little dogs” and just generally when you have Luther and Diego going at one another Drom and Val are only half a step behind them

She gets along well with Raph and often carries him around when Allison calls him lazy and refuses to do it. Despite that thought Raph is like,, super muscular and strong and he’s a bigass snake, Drom used to carry him into position during missions and let’s just say they were a solid interrogation team with Drom’s teeth and Raph literally squeezing information out of people when necessary (though he can always rumor people just like Allison, he’s not fond of doing it and calls it cheating because he’s a contrary bastard). He tends to help immobilizing people and their daemons and is used as a restraint a lot until their people with thumbs can come along with rope or something

Andromeda and Rowan do NOT get along, mainly because Rowan is pretty vocal about the fact that their dad fucked them up and has no respect. Some of it also comes from the fact that Andromeda is a little jealous of Rowan’s grace as a cat because their dad’s fox daemon is exceptionally graceful and regal. But generally Andromeda ignores Rowan or growls at him, she’s never physically laid a paw on him outside of sparring until that scene with drunk and depressed Luther though

Andromeda,, also doesn’t really get along with Pancha either. It has a lot to do with the fact that as kids Pancha was constantly shifting where Drom would keep a form and stick to it. She would often tell Pancha that one day she’d settle well lmao jokes on her. Pancha used to frequently insults Drom’s intelligence and has called her a “dumb mutt” before but upon return those insults have been conspicuously absent for ALL the siblings. Five still has a fairly venomous tongue, but Pancha keeps her silence.

Andromeda and Pollux don’t have a relationship, simple as that. She ignores Pollux’s existence, even when the other daemon attempts to interact with her. She basically assumes their father is correct in Vanya’s uselessness and as such doesn’t care all that much about either of them. To be fair Pollux has learned from their childhood and doesn’t interact with Andromeda much either, and even when Vanya attempts to like,, call Luther out Pollux keeps his silence.

Val doesn’t like Andromeda and isn’t afraid to show it, bristling and snarling. Val actually settled first of the two of them (a point of pride), and some part of her is a little hurt that Drom turned into a dog that protects a pack from wolves and took it personally as Luther’s literal soul saying that he didn’t see Diego and her as part of the pack.

Her and Raph don’t really talk a lot but they have a lot of relatable sibling-eye-contact moments over their family being dumb shits and whenever Andromeda wasn’t available it was Val who would carry Raph so they’re actually closer to one another than their people are. Raph firmly refuses to get between any argument of Drom and Val’s and would 100% rumor them apart when they were all kids because Raph was Sick Of Their Shit™ despite his general distaste for rumoring

Val and Rowan get along pretty well actually, Rowan frequently hops up to ride on her back like they’re the captain of a furry wolf shaped ship and Val allows it even though she thinks they’re a little shit. Rowan used to hide behind Val from Reggie and his daemon and Val might still have a lot of protective pack instincts that she showers on them because they allow it. Val may or may not be 90% of the reason that Diego just sighs and lets Klaus tag along whenever, though Diego and Val often disagree on how to handle the Klaus/Rowan situation since Val wants to kidnap them both and keep them safe in their boiler room while Diego is of the firm belief that Klaus is a big boy now and they aren’t responsible for him.

Val thought Pancha was a mischievous little shit when they were kids as the other daemon would frequently jump wherever she pleased. Val isn’t surprised when Pancha “settles” as a hare since they’re associated with tricksters and are more solitary and independent and tougher than their rabbit counterparts. She’s super worried about Pancha when she arrived back with Five though, since the other daemon is far more withdrawn and look daemons are representations of someone’s soul they can’t lie - Five can put on a tough act all he likes but Pancha’s behavior is pretty clearly off and she looks at all of them like she’s seeing ghosts. Val is the one to carry Pancha back after the shrapnel incident, swearing because she knew she should have been suspicious that Five was carrying Pancha when she’d always hated being carried when they were kids

Val doesn’t particularly care for Pollux and is actually mildly uneasy around him. There’s just something… off about the other daemon. It raises Val’s hackles even if she doesn’t know why, and she doesn’t figure it out until after the fact that the reason she was wary of Pollux is literally because on some level she recognized the chains on him via the medication and was repulsed even though it wasn’t Pollux’s fault. She’s trying to be better after the fact with him.

I’m making myself so sad about Pollux right now tbh he deserves so much better than what he’s got but moving on

Raph is honestly the chillest daemon with everyone else’s daemon. No one has beef with Raph. Like, they might have beef with Allison, but not with Raph which might be why Allison and Raph are probably the least in sync out of the siblings with their daemon actually outside of Vanya. Raph loves Andromeda who carries him places and doesn’t mind him winding up on her because she’s warm.

Raph considers Val to be his bitchface pal and they bond over their people being stupid. Honestly Raph just wants to sleep for the most part. But legit though Allison and Raph need an intervention for them never being on the same page I think Raph might resent Allison leaving to become a star and he’s the one that dislikes using their power and constantly advised against using it so he might, on some level, blame Allison for them losing Claire (and Allison wonders if the stereotype against snake daemons played a role and sort of blames him) and honestly their relationship is a fucking mess

Raph and Rowan are chill, they’re bros, they know what they’re about. Raph thinks Rowan’s sense of humor is fucking hilarious and they’re both sleepy bitches (Rowan is a cat they knows what they’re about regarding catnaps) so they napped together a lot when everyone was under the same roof. They’re at an unspoken truce regarding the drug issue because unlike the rest of the family Raph actually listens when Rowan explains about their power being the fucking worst and having to numb it down after Raph offers to rumor them to get clean. But yeah like Allison and Klaus don’t hang out much but Raph and Rowan are bros.

I said Raph gets along with p much everyone but he’s not super close with Pancha simply because she was constantly on the move and shifting every other minute as kids back when everyone was unsettled like she was constantly itching to get out of her own skin. Like, Pancha’s thing is moving and being quick and honestly Raph is a little surprised she didn’t settle as a bird daemon the way she flits about. Raph being lazy, they didn’t see much of one another but he was always up for a conversation when Pancha calmed down enough or exhausted herself. He likes her, he just thinks she’s exhausting. He’s much more concerned for her after she gets back from the apocalypse though.

Raph and Pollux kind of,, also don’t have a big relationship tbh. There’s just something about Pollux that makes Raph uneasy, but he’s a chill dude and is probably one of the closest to Pollux after Pancha. Sometimes when Raph would be going slithering through the house, Pollux would sit upon his back and chill as they both went to whatever destination. Raph does think it’s a little weird that Pollux doesn’t fly considering he’s, you know, a bird, but he doesn’t press the issue (which he regrets, later). But overall he’s not nearly as interested in mending bridges with Vanya as Allison is since there’s still that something that prevents him from fully liking Pollux. But as the plot progresses he warms up to the idea more and more without realizing that the reason he’s warming is because they stopped taking the drugs hmm

Rowan doesn’t get along with Andromeda but they’re pretty chill with everyone else’s daemons. They get surprisingly protective of their siblings and even though Klaus isn’t great in a fight pre-Vietnam, Rowan isn’t afraid to flash their claws when necessary. The biggest reason they got kidnapped is because Hazel’s daemon didn’t come to the firefight in the manor and they weren’t willing to break the taboo on touching a human when it seemed like the primary objective was to take Klaus not to kill him. They ended up regretting it for the torture scene though oof.

Rowan loves Val a whole lot and likes trying to groom her and they 100% climb up on Val’s back when they feel like being lazy. Rowan is a self proclaimed dog person though they often say that there are always exceptions and eye Andromeda but this comes up again with Dave and his australian cattle dog daemon where, when they meet, Rowan blurts out that they’re a dog person and Dave’s daemon snorts in laughter considering that Klaus’s daemon is literally a cat. He is the personification of ‘cat person’ his soul is a cAT.

I already yelled about Rowan and Raph being nap buds, they like Raph because he’s never judged them and just accepts that they know their powers well enough to know what does and doesn’t work

Rowan and Pancha actually get along weirdly well?? Like, Rowan can be off the walls crazy at times as you know cats get that simply zest for life and just go fucking nuts for a while before going back to sleep?? so Rowan is actually one of the few of the siblings daemons who could keep up with her when they were kids and Pancha was the last of them unsettled. There was a minor freak out where they didn’t see Pancha at first when Five popped out of the portal which prompted the whole “does anyone else see little number five” comment bc ghosts don’t have daemons but then Pancha popped up and Rowan was so fuCKING RELIEVED and continuously prodded at Klaus to follow either Diego or Five because they want to hang out with Val and Pancha

The only one of the siblings daemons who knows that Tamaya is still alive. She doesn’t speak almost at all, only rarely talking to Klaus but she talks a little more to Rowan. Tamaya is usually curled up in Klaus’s pockets or general clothing but there have been a few occasions where she rides on Rowan’s shoulders or goes off on her own for a little while (those are the occasions where Ben’s ghost also goes off for a little while, neither Klaus nor Rowan question where they go). Tamaya also occasions hides in Klaus’s room instead of accompanying them places. During the kidnapping she nibbles through Klaus’s restraints and allows him to escape a little more easily since no one expects an unaccompanied daemon, haven’t decided yet how this impacts the whole Patch dying situation

Rowan doesn’t really talk to Pollux and Pollux doesn’t talk to them, though Rowan does care about Pollux. Rowan is the most easygoing with Pollux because honestly being high means that they don’t notice Pollux’s strangeness on the same level as the others and will often direct comments towards the owl daemon. Pollux rarely responds, however.

Pancha time!! I love Pancha she’s a ball of nervous energy and can’t sit still half the time. As a kid she was constantly shifting between animals like she would run across a room and be five different animals in the time it took her to get to the other end, just always restless. She and Five kept each other sane in the apocalypse - I haven’t decided whether Dolores exists in this au and if she does would she get a stuffed animal daemon?? Decisions decisions. She’s changed a LOT from the Pancha that the others remember and is noticeably a lot more quiet and standoffish, but also she fades into the background where as a kid she was constantly bursting to the foreground and demanding attention. She looks at them all like they’re ghosts and will flinch when addressed sometimes even by other daemons. The others can sense there’s something just a little bit off about her but attribute that to the trauma (eventually though it comes out that Pancha is still unsettled and that explains it)

Pancha never got along with Andromeda and they butted heads a lot before Pancha left. Pancha’s a smartass daemon alongside her person so would frequently insult Andromeda’s intelligence or go off plan because she thought of something better and would frequently yell for Andromeda to ‘adapt!’ because that was her biggest criticism. Her fluidly changing from one form to another depending on the situation was her calling card for adapting and Andromeda would always growl that one day Pancha would have to settle and Pancha would shrug it off. As adults they still don’t really see eye to eye though Pancha has noticeably softened towards Andromeda. She doesn’t call the other daemon a dumb mutt anymore and in fact doesn’t insult any of the others at all.

Pancha liked irritating Val when they were kids but still got along reasonably well with her. Now that they’re back, Val is noticeably more protective of her family and Pancha is included with that. There are a couple of moments where Val bores holes into Pancha’s head to try and telepathically ask if the hare is okay that Pancha doesn’t respond to. When Five and Pancha are drunk off their asses, Val is the one who carries Pancha even though Luther is carrying Five. She insisted. She also carried Pancha home after the shrapnel injury and curled around her on the bed absolutely FURIOUS that someone dared to hurt her sibling. Pancha says some things while drunk that break Val’s heart, and Pancha never protests the coddling unlike Five. She doesn’t lean into it, but she doesn’t protest it.

Pancha and Raph aren’t close but Pancha likes the other daemon regardless because he never did pry into her business and showed her how to do cool tricks as a snake after he settled and she didn’t. Raph never made comments about her being the last to settle unlike most of the others (even though Ben and Vanya only ever mentioned it kindly).

Pancha and Rowan are bros though Pancha disapproves of Rowan drugging themself to keep the powers at bay and always expresses that they have faith that Rowan will learn to control them one day. Honestly Rowan finds it kind of nice even if Pancha disapproves because at least she disapproves because she 100% believes in them instead of being disapproving for disapproval’s sake. Pancha expresses that even drugged Rowan is one of the most observant of their siblings. Rowan worries about her after she comes back and keeps trying to convince Klaus to go after Five, but Five has a very venomous tongue and Klaus is delicate no matter how much Rowan figures it’s just a defense mechanism since Pancha doesn’t echo the sentiments. Rowan is worried about Five as well. Rowan is just worried :(

Pancha is the only one in the family who loves Pollux and actively seeks the other daemon out. She knows something isn’t right, but instead of being repulsed finds herself delighted at the mystery and assumes that the ‘wrongness’ is why Pollux doesn’t fly. Before Pancha jumped to the apocalypse, she kept trying to teach Pollux how to fly by shifting into various birds but it never did stick.

Yeah though Pollux is a daemon that really unnerves other daemons because they can tell something is terribly wrong even if they can’t quite put their finger on what. Pollux and Vanya don’t really communicate either and get second place in the “our human/daemon relationship is super messed up” after Allison and Raph.

Pollux doesn’t really speak. To anyone. Especially after Five and Pancha vanish. He’s just,, not really all the way there to be honest. He goes where Vanya does but does precious little, often standing as still as a statue on his perch until moved again. Sometimes he’ll interact with other daemons but not usually by speaking - he’s sat on Raph’s back or tugged at Andromeda’s fur to get her attention or silently stood in someone’s way but seriously for the most part he’s somewhat catatonic.

After they go off the meds he starts perking up again and speaks for the first time in years to Leonard/Harold and his skua daemon. He actually does have a personality, but he’s been suppressed for so long that he’s still figuring himself out alongside Vanya tbh

As the White Violin his colors switch and instead of being brown with white spots as a spotted owl he becomes white with brown spots. He also is constantly flying while they’re using their powers, flapping and keeping himself aloft roughly above Vanya’s head, half suspended by their own power. As they figure out control, they eventually realize that it’s Pollux who can direct their sound based attacks with his wings and if Vanya tries to go alone it’s uncontrolled like the attack on the trucker dudes without the focus of her violin. They have to work together to control Vanya’s powers, and it’s difficult because they genuinely don’t really have much of a relationship or know each other very well since they’ve been sedated since Vanya was like, four years old

this post is already so so long so i’ll cut it off here probably but yeAH there’s probably a scene where Pollux attacks Leonard/Harold’s daemon and claws her eye out and there’s a translated wound on Leonard because that’s how daemons work and then they both get fucked up by Vanya and Pollux’s powers/knife storm thing

(Pollux isn’t as angry as Vanya is, truthfully. He’s just… tired. He’s so tired. Vanya wants to end the world in her fury. Pollux wants to end it just so everything… stops.)

but yes please keep asking me questions about this au i’m living for it i love these dumb idiots and their daemons

(still need to come up names for the background character daemons, there’s a part of my mind whispering don’t you fucking dare name reginald’s daemon regina soul i swear to fuck so that’s a thing - i’ll also take suggestions for background character daemon names as well!! it was hard enough coming up with these losers)

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