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stinkyme · 8 months

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Hello! This is Nikolai fic I had an idea of, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :) <3

There are parts to this story that discuss death, reader is NOT suicidal, but metaphorically speaking, envying how the dead even have more freedom with their emotions than a living human. Also, they misunderstand Nikolai's idea of freedom because of lack of informations (they know he needs to die for a plan, so misinterpretation happens). There is also a part in the beginning that mentions their ability coming to an end, they are unaware of Fyodor's desire to kill all ability users, they just know they could be free from their ability. (this is very briefly mentioned, one sentence)

CW/TW: SFW, gn!reader, reader works at DoA and has an ability "Dead Souls", they don't like Nikolai at first, reader is also a bit mean/sharp/bitter at first, the story follows part of the main plot, bickering, sometimes sassy Nikolai, cursing, reader has never been in love or had friends, reader doesn't allow themselves to feel a lot due to the ability, a lot of dialogue and inner monologue, misunderstandings, Nikolai & reader prank Sigma, kinda slow burn, "friends" to enemies to lovers…?, they get into an argument, reader slaps Nikolai & uses harsh words, they make up, fluff and romance (yikes😒), if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

Also, there is a small portion where Nikolai and reader discuss his card, I am a bit of a fanatic towards tarot & regular cards, so I wanted to add that part because I think it's really interesting for Nikolai's character + it creates a bit of intimacy :) (basically, 3 of spades represents a failure in achieving a certain desire; outcome different than firstly anticipated. Usually disappointment, however, I wanted to make a little twist to it, given the nature of the fic, so his plan fails for other cheesy reasons :3)

* This mostly stems from my need for fluffy Nikolai and because I am an awful, cheesy & romantic person. (I disgust myself and you should be disgusted too)

I digress...I thought that using one of the works from an irl author to sort of...make an opposite, but similar to bsd Nikolai when it comes to freedom could be interesting. Ability isn't fully connected to a book itself, it's more my own interpretation + using the name to make it! :D Also, names are from the book, descriptions of souls in this case is different since I wanted to make a little variety :)

** When Nikolai says "So is graveyard", he isn't threatening to kill the reader, but teasing their ability and dead vibe/behavior or rather lack of excitement :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

this is long, I am sorry, spam how disgusting I am pls.....an AO3 link is here and in the fic, since it couldn't fit LOL

A cage of freedom || Nikolai Gogol x Reader

Dead Souls. That was your ability which you hated. It had some good parts, of course, but it mostly limited you in your own essence. Part of your ability allowed you to see other people's essence, their soul and one thing they crave the most. Different part was granting you power to see, speak to and help souls of the dead to pass on when they are ready.

It all sounds like a lovely thing to experience, except it wasn't.

Indeed, the souls could help you as well, grant you needed information, take care of your blind spots, even fight for you.

However, everything has a price.

Yours was your own soul. Not in a way people usually imagine.

Your ability didn't allow you to feel much. The dead who get stuck in the physical realm are already feeling a lot of heavy emotions - such as grief, pain, anger, sorrow and anxiety. Therefore, your own emotions had to be in constant check so you wouldn't be disturbing the souls attached to you and possibly ruin their remaining stability. With that being known, you realized that the best way is to not experience anything at all or rather, as little as possible.

You didn't allow yourself to experience fear, anxiety or sadness. You learned to detach yourself and naturally, the stories of the poor souls made your endurance much bigger. Another big rule you had was not falling in love or loving people. They can leave at any moment and completely ruin the ground beneath you which would trap those souls you take care of in the worst parts of existence - eternal suffering and no memories of their lives.

People can hurt you, they are unpredictable and dishonest, as much as you can see the part of their essence - that doesn't protect your own. It is always better not to risk it. That's what you've learned after so many years of living the way you do.

Which is why you were a perfect fit for Decay of Angels.

Someone who is rational, not emotion driven and has a flexible ability that actually grants more than one person. Fyodor was beyond intrigued, and you were beyond satisfied with their goal. You wanted your own ability to come to an end, but also, to stop the war.

Aftermaths of wars still have souls lingering to this day, too damaged to be helped and you always feel a faint sting in your heart when you can't do anything. You can't even grieve them or cry over them, just forcefully accept endless suffering like it's nothing, but an inconvenience.

You were deprived of basic human experience and the right - to feel. You were not a psychopath, nor a sociopath, no. You had to forcefully cage your own heart and limit anything that may come in or out of it. As much as you would like to say it does become easier, some days remind you that it's not.

To say you crave a friendship, a love, a passion, a sadness, an intense happiness, a heartbreak, a feeling of being alive after being surrounded by nothing but death for as long as you remember was an understatement.

Sometimes, the souls would apologize to you, they felt your desires too. They were beyond grateful for your work, but they also knew the suffering they were causing to you.

Being stripped away from a life - in a living, functioning body in which the blood runs and heart beats intensely was nothing more than a punishment. Nothing less than a cruel joke. Just a simple slavery to your own unfortunate circumstance. You were a warm flesh covering your own cage, pretending to be alive while craving the freedom of the dead. A freedom of everyone else.

Even the worst scums on earth had a right to feel, but you? No.

You were deprived of a choice even before you were given one.

When you met the rest of the Angels, you were not impressed by any, given the fact you already knew you wouldn't attach yourself. A quick glance at their essences told you everything you needed to know.

Sigma, Bram, Fukuchi, Fyodor and finally Nikolai.

A home.

A sleep. A family. It switches depending on whether he is awake or asleep.

An end to a war.

Salvation and cleansing.

A freedom.

You want to scoff. A freedom? From what?

It often mildly annoys you how people's deepest desires are either shallow, overly egoistical or simply attainable. Some people desire to change the world in the name of God, old or dead friends which is always an excuse for them to do whatever they think is right. Nobody can out-perfect the dead and you know it very well.

God is always used as a pedestal to explain human's extremities and allow them destruction in the name of higher good. Past can never not be sorrow and similarly to the dead - nothing can out-perfect it or change it. It all seems like a valid excuse simply because it can't be touched by humans. A past, the dead, a God. It's all singular and unchangeable. Therefore, it is undiscussable and immediately accepted as a valid reasoning for human's selfishness.

Some people desire a home or a family. Those are valid desires of any human and to those you can relate to.

However, for most humans it holds no meaning. They are shallow in their desires. It's often a one-way street. They want to be loved and to be safe or secure, but they aren't ready to give the same treatment back. Or simply, they try to heal their own lack of certain emotions or feelings through physically conventional things.

To make up for something they are not.

But one thing they all are. Humans are greedy. Once they attain home or a family, they desire something else. More. More. More. It's always more. They always want more of life. They never learn to appreciate what they have and the freedom of choice they were given. The very beginning of it - a freedom to desire things. It could be your own mild bitterness speaking, but given your position, it was a fair mindset to have. You were not allowed to even desire too much or too hard.

Some people desire things they already have. Those you hated the most - as much as you were allowed to hate.

They were either creepily shallow in a way such as - desiring more money when they already have everything they could possibly need. Desiring more partners; more love or passion when they already have a person who is completely devoted to them. Wanting more excitement, more happiness, more friends - everything they already had, but didn't appreciate, or could achieve without breaking a sweat.

A freedom?

There were people who desired freedom for good reasons. Abusive marriages, families or relationships. Being disabled or mentally ill. Being sick. Being overly pressured. Suffering things such as slavery, sex trafficking and similar. They desire freedom too and you know that. You don't speak of them, and you are aware of your own ungratefulness sometimes.

But, human tragedies and pains are not to be compared because one will always seem smaller than the other, but emotions on each side will always remain. Desire on each side will always remain. Helplessness will always remain.

They will connect through their despair which humans are either awfully good or bad at.

You are the bad one. You can only connect to the dead, and even then, your input and output must be limited. Your heart shall not open more than an inch. If you could stitch it to be shut closed - you would.

But you can't. Because certain empathy is needed for your ability to work. Not too much or too little of anything. To some it may seem like balance, but in reality it's torture.

Either feel everything or nothing at all. Feel as much as you need to feel.

Because experiencing life in low, limited measurement is like a soul is sick. Experiencing life in rare tea spoons of what it means to be living. Get a drop of water when there is an endless, clean ocean in front of you. A few breaths of being alive in-between what seems like endless suffocation.

It's awful and excruciating. It feels tightening. It feels like your soul is constipated to say the least. It feels torturous.

Therefore, quite frankly, you can't help but experience a small jolting of nerves when you witness someone like him. Someone who seems so obnoxious, so loud, so out there, so shamelessly being themself. Someone who has all the freedom, who isn't bound by the dead, by the living, by the suffering, by his own ability. Hell, even listening about his ability makes you want to puke.

"My ability grants me to store things in my coat right here! I can also create portals and transfer my body parts or things. Pretty cool, isn't it?!" he is twirling around while he speaks, his voice enthusiastic.

"A true ability for a true magician!" he claps his hands before bowing down. As if he did something amazing.

You don't even say a word, a faint disgust on your face.

"Oh~, you don't seem impressed," his voice softens.

"How about now?!" he transports his hand from his coat to the other member named Sigma, squishing his cheek. Sigma yelps, giving him an irritated look.

"Could you stop that?!" he yells as he unsuccessfully tries to slap Nikolai's hand away as he reverts it back quickly, giggling.

"Interesting." you say in an obviously disinterested tone. Nikolai looks at you, his expression confused for a moment.

"Ah, sarcasm! Got it!" he snaps his fingers before pointing at you.

"What about you, though? What's your ability?" he asks with a little smile on his face.

"I can speak to the dead." you deadpan and both men's expressions change to a slight shock.

"Really?" Nikolai asks, a bit intrigued.

"Really. I can communicate with them and help them cross once they are ready." you nod, your whole demeanor calm.

"That's spooky!" he says in a lower, but still expressive tone, covering his mouth with his hand that was further covered by the coat.

"Not at all. It's depressing, but rewarding at times." you reply in a casual tone.

"Hm...still, quite spooky to me." he replies in a quieter tone.

"To each its own." you shrug. The silence fills the room, feeling a bit awkward, but as if it could affect you.

"So...are there any dead people with us now?" Sigma whispers.

"Quite a few actually. Around five at the moment." you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

"Your whisper woke them, they seem to be quite angry with you. They will begin to hunt soon." you give him a sly gaze.

"Why?! I didn't do anything! How do I-"

"I am kidding. They don't care." you say in a slightly playful tone, calming an anxious man down. He would never be able to have your ability, it's entertaining to witness.

"So you do have a sense of humor after all! We will make a great pair." Nikolai giggles at your teasing. He sits next to you and you feel the disgust climb up your throat.

Naturally, you tone it down immediately. For your own and the souls' sake.

"I don't think so." you raise your eyebrow at him, lips curling down a bit. Nikolai gives you a slightly confused expression.

"If I leave now, will they follow me?" Sigma whispers again and it makes you sigh out.

"No, they won't follow you. Unless you are the reason they are bound in the physical realm or I order them, they won't care about you." your voice is comforting. You understand people's anxiety around you and rarely blame them. It's better than those who cling onto you. Like this damn clown.

Sigma nods, letting a little sigh out from relief. He waves to you and leaves the room, you assume to the Casino he was in charge of.

"Do you want to prank him later?" Nikolai giggles happily, elbowing your arm. You want to rip his arm apart, but remain calm - as always.

"Not interested." you slowly get up, making a leave of your own.

You stop for a moment, turning around to face him. Nikolai's expression seems innocent and dumb-founded.

"One more thing though. I can also see the souls of people and their biggest desire. Quite frankly, yours disgusts me. So, if you would be so kind as to stay away from me unless it's a work thing." you give him a polite smile, regardless of your voice being sharp. You open the door and leave the room to go to your own before a mission.

......Continue on AO3

#nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol bsd #nikolai gogol x reader fluff #nikolai gogol x you #nikolai gogol x y/n #bsd nikolai #bsd imagines #bsd fic #bsd fluff #bsd romance #nikolai gogol fluff

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oathkeptmusings · 1 year

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final fantasy x prompts

Hey, I got a game to play!

Your team lost because of you.

You cried.

It's just that, it's hard to keep at it sometimes, you know?

If we give it our all, I can walk away happy.

They forget pain, suffering.

Hey, but what if she, like, comes on to me?

I wish I could live in a place like this. Peaceful...

What did we do that was so bad in the first place?

There are so many things I don't know.

Can't you think for yourself?!

Guard your emotions first.

You know something! Tell me!

I wanted to change the world too, but I changed nothing.

Die, and be free of pain, or live, and fight your sorrow!

Your fate is in your hands!

You can always run.

How could you? How could you?

Strike me down.

Never forget them.

I know it sounds selfish, but this is my story!

I've learned how to smile... Even when I'm feeling sad.

Every story must have an ending.

The dead need guidance.

He has been granted sleep eternal.

All the pain of life is gently swept away..

But do not weep, nor rise in anger.

They chose to die, because they had hope.

#rp memes #rp meme #sentence starters #sentence starter #writing prompt #final fantasy x

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staghollows · 6 months

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# AVENGEFAYTH . ㅤㅤnow is the time to choose, die, and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrows. now is the time to shape your story, your fate is in your hand! ㅤprivatized & friends only roleplay blog dedicated to AURON.ㅤheavily portrayed from 2001's final fantasy x. ㅤthis blog will explore & contain triggering content such as scientific experimentation, ㅤgrief, ㅤhomicide, ㅤdepression and death. ㅤ please be advised, ㅤ and follow with caution. ㅤ written with a tremendous amount of love, ㅤby mama ari ! ㅤ⁽ ²⁵, ˢʰᵉ/ᵗʰᵉʸ, ᶜˢᵀ ⁾

affiliated with zanarkabe, braskide, cade blog? 🤍

NAVI/RULES AESTHETIC SIDEBLOG BLOGROLL

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thecoffeelovingfreak · 2 years

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hello! for the 50 & 60 follower event can i request jester!nikolai gogol awkwardly trying to cheer up the reader who is sad because of the fights etc. maybe the reader is normally composed as well— if that’s okay. hope you are having a good day either way.

Hello! I hope you are having a good day as well, and if not, that this work brightens it! :)

~~~

The King's Fools

Pairing: Jester!Nikolai x gn!Knight!Reader

Writing Genre: oneshot

Genres: medieval times, angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 761

Warnings: angst, discussions and scenes of war and murder, blood, death, reader tries to numb pain with alcohol | not deeply proofread

Notes: Enjoy the rollercoaster ;)

Read it on ao3!

for the Medieval!AU followers event

~~~

Your laboured breathing echoed around you; the only thing you could hear amongst the carnage and death. You stared at your stained armour, not knowing whose blood lay there, whose lives you ended. The sky held a mixture of clouds and smoke as embers flew around you.

They must be burning the town.

You turned and stumbled toward the flames.

What about the innocents? They do not need to die.

A fellow knight saw you moving to the fire and ran to stop you. His words were lost to your ears as every ounce of your being filled with regret, fear, and sorrow. You were being guided back to your horse as the screams of the dying echoed throughout the valley around you. The other knights already sat mounted on their horses, waiting for you to join them.

I must appear as a fool right now.

The flat of the sharp blade delicately tapped your left shoulder, then the right. Cheers echoed through the hall when the last squire became a knight.

A burden had been passed onto you that day; one that your predecessors lived and died with. You had participated in battles many times throughout your training, but you were never prepared for the sheer brutality of being the executioner.

You shivered outside in the cold as you nursed a bottle of unknown liquor. The grass was wet under your legs; most likely from the rain that started pouring once you reached the castle grounds. The stars shone brightly as your eyes began watering.

How pitiful must I appear to God? A lonely servant of war, far too foolish to truly be valiant.

Soft footsteps sounded through the grass near you, and a figure soon appeared sitting next to you on this dark hill.

“Hello, my knight.” an amicable voice said.

“Hello, my jester.” you sighed.

“What is wrong?” he asked, placing his left hand over your right.

“Many things, Kolya, many things.”

You took another sip from the bottle before he took it from your hands. He placed the bottle to his side as he stood and sat in front of you, grabbing both of your hands in his.

“Tell me all of them.” he spoke, smiling softly.

Your eyes filled once more as you aired your grievances. “This most recent battle has awakened something inside of me. My soul was made to be one who protects, not slaughters. This occupation was something I had dreamed about becoming since I was a child. Everyone always spoke of the pride and glory of being a knight, but I feel none of those things. I am just so exhausted, Kolya, and I no longer know what to do.”

His eyes filled with emotion as he brought your hands to his lips, kissing the right before the left. His bittersweet smile appeared before he placed a hand behind your head and brought your forehead to his lips, placing a kiss there before allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

“Cry, my dove. Set your emotions free.”

Upon his gentle words, your tears spilled over. You sat together under the soft moonlight, his large hand stroking the back of your head while you gripped his coat and sobbed. When your cries turned to sniffles, he lifted your head from his shoulder and began wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“We are the King’s fools, are we not?”

You chuckled lightly at his question.

A serene silence passed between you, the only sound being the wind through the greenery.

“Walk with me, Y/n.” he whispered, quickly rising onto his feet and offering you his hand.

You took his outstretched hand and rose in turn. He placed his hat on your head, and grabbed the bottle from the ground. He took a swig before chucking it into the woods. You looked at him momentarily shocked, and he only smiled in return. You walked peacefully down the hill, admiring the night sky in an attempt to uplift your soul.

When you arrived outside of the castle and looked at the jester, you could see and feel nothing but admiration. It flowed between the two of you in words unspoken, until his eyes glimmered and you could see everything he wanted to say. Such a lovely man, with so many thoughts and emotions clamoring through his mind and heart. What a pity it was that he would be forever known as a fool and nothing more. But, it seemed God sentenced you to the same grave.

The King’s fools you were.

- - - - - - - - - -

If you would like to read similar works, why don’t you check out the rest of my Medieval!AU?

masterlists | upcoming works

#coff's 50 & 60+ event #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd au #bsd nikolai #bsd nikolai gogol #bsd gogol #bsd nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd doa #bsd decay of angels #bsd medieval au #bsd fanfic #bsd x you #coff writes for bsd🥂

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spilledkauffie · 3 years

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Still Having Nightmares

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: nightmares, trauma conversations, fluff A/N: MY HEART IS FUCKING BROKEN!!! Do you hear!? All because of this gif set— spoilers!

Song inspo: Nightmares - All Time Low

You squeezed your eyes closed, trying not to let the tears fall. But they weren’t for you— from outside the door, down the hall, and into the living room, you heard the soft mumbling. The desperate “no’s” and the heavy breathing. Rolling over in bed, you placed your hand where he often began the night, right next to you. Knowing he liked to fight this struggles alone, you methodically bit at the inside of your lip, furrowing your brows.

However, when you heard the static of metal tension, you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sitting up, you tossed the covers aside. Taking a moment to calm yourself, you quickly wiped the tears off your cheeks and took a deep breath, wanting to be in the best state to help him. Opening the bedroom door you stepped out into the hallway gently. Attempting to make your footsteps as light as possible, you made your way to the living room doorway. Bucky was laying on the opposite side of the apartment’s room from you.

Watching him toss and turn, sometimes jolt, was difficult, but you always tried to think of how best to help him if you could. As you debated waking him up to end the night terror, something did that for you- hearing him yell your name he completely sat up. You blinked back some tears, hating that you knew his nightmares forced him to see himself losing more than he already had.

“God-” he exhaled as if he had been forced to hold his breath for five minutes, it was a painful first few breaths. Shoving his hands through his hair, he set his elbows on his knees and tried to steady his breathing, he clearly hadn’t seen you yet, “shit,” you heard him say in a broken voice, though you couldn’t see them, you knew there were tears from the way he sniffled with an inhale every other breath.

You shifted your weight onto the opposite foot, accidentally catching his attention.

“Hey,” he suddenly said as if nothing had happened, quickly turning his face away from you, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes, trying to get rid of any proof of tears. Clearing his throat he exhaled, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Tilting your head with a heavy sorrow that he just wanted to push everything aside, you reached for the light switch.

“No!” Bucky exclaimed, before looking down, surprised at his tone, “no,” he said softer, looking back up at you, “can we leave it off? Please?”

“Yeah,” you answered hoarsely, feeling a tightness in your own throat, “of course, baby.”

Walking over to where he was, you settled on the floor, sitting next to him, facing his direction. There was just enough light from the apartment windows for you two to see each other in dim lights streaming in. He tried again to subtly brush away any tear stains, while you joined him. Pushing the top of his wrist against his lip, he dropped his hand, and finally turned to you.

“Did I-” he swallowed, you saw the tension in his jaw, “did I wake you?”

“No,” you whispered, raising a hand to fluff back some fallen strands of his messy hair.

“Really?” he perked an eyebrow, “then why are you awake?”

You hold your breath trying to think of an excuse, but you’d rather say nothing than lie to him again.

“I didn’t mean to leave tonight, I just-” he quirked the corner of his lips, trying to find the right words, “I’m not used to it, but I didn’t want to leave- I just-”

“I know,” you assured him, free hand touching his forearm, calmly stroking his chilled skin.

He dipped his head shaking it, before giving a disappointed laugh, “you know I thought I was over this,” he admitted, your hand still brushing soothingly through his hair as he stared straight ahead, you swore you could see him thinking of another time.

“Tell me about it?”

He pressed his lips together, debating if he wanted to say more, so you let the quiet come between the two of you, and that was okay. Time was needed and you were more than willing to wait for him.

“You know sometimes I can see myself, at different times, and I just keep thinking- when I see that kid, signing up for the army, he looks at me,” he smiled for a second, but it faded faster than it came on, “he had no idea what he was signing up for.” Looking down to the metal replacing his arm, Bucky nodded to himself, blaming himself for it all.

“Victims never do,” you said, “because it’s not their fault.”

“Victim?” He scoffed, raising his eyebrows in disbelief at you, “have you seen my count-”

“Bucky, what they did to you-”

“But what I did to others-” he started.

“What they did to you,” you repeated, more firmly, stopping him from interrupting you, he waited for your next words, “what they did was cruel and monstrous, but that doesn’t mean you are.” Bucky tilted his head, “you signed up because you’re a brave soldier, what came next was out of your control, but now, you’re back on the path you first started.”

His grey blue eyes were fixed on you when you finished, “tell me about tonight’s nightmare?”

He was quiet again, so you pressed your hand against the middle of his chest, covering his dog tags, before you curled your fingers around the metal and glanced down to study them in your palm. Rubbing your thumb over the raised letters- one tag spelling out his name the other simply saying “Winter Soldier,” you bit the corner of your lip. Bucky never took his gaze off you, studying you studying the tags.

After a moment of silence, he leaned in closer, slipping his hand against the side of your neck, fingertips pushing into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, while he brought his mouth to the opposite side. You tightened your hand around his dog tags as his skin brushed against your knuckles. With the way his chest was already rising and falling and the hum of his moan against your neck, you almost got lost in it. Slowly moving his other hand up your thigh, to your hip, you felt the metal, smooth and cold as ever. Closing your eyes, you focussed for a moment on his hot desperate kisses, his lips felt so good against you, but you knew what he was doing.

“Bucky-” you said softly, but seriously, knowing what you needed to do.

“Mhmm?” he hummed, lips ghosting against you as he waited for you to continue, but when you didn’t, he pulled back to look at you, his hand still caressing the nape of your neck gently.

You stared at him, amazed at how well he was trained to shift from emotion to emotion or just hide them altogether. It seemed wrong that there was so much pain and hurt in you form sympathy when he was the one actually fighting through it. As you stayed silent, his gaze fell to your parted lips. Bucky took his opportunity and met your mouth with a deeply passionate kiss, when you hardly responded he paused the kiss, lips still touching yours as he spoke.

“What is it?” he asked, caressing your cheek.

“I love you so much,” you took a deep breath, placing your hand on top of his and bringing it away from your cheek setting your interlaced hands in your lap, looking back to him, “but that won’t make them go away,” you stated eyebrows knitted together, shaking your head softly, “I need you to talk to me,” you stroked his jawline with your thumb, still holding his hand with your other, and speaking as gently as you possibly could, “so we can work this out together, I want to help you, I want you to be able to stay a whole night with me.”

Taking his hand off your thigh, you heard the metal adjust as he shifted his weight onto it.

“Alright, in my nightmares. . .I keep hurting you,” his words broke the silence, “different ways, I tell myself it’s not me, it’s that shadow I used to be, but all the same in the end.”

Listening carefully you placed a soft kiss to the cooled skin of his shoulder, where the scars met metal, encouraging him to continue with gentle stroking motions of your fingertips on the back of his hand.

“Every time. . .I’m in a place from my past, but you’re there,” he confessed, tightening his grip around your hand, “and you die, all because of me.”

“You’d never hurt me.”

“But I did...I do,” tears were returning and he didn’t understand; the one happiness in his life was being twisted by his past and his mind, he remembered certain things, others a blur and now past and present were blending. . .

“James,” you brought him to face you with your hand against his cheek, “you’d never hurt me.”

“I’m just-” he said cautiously.

“Bucky,” you said almost disappointed he’d question himself on this.

“I’m just scared I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from hurting you,” he confessed in a louder voice than intended, making you jerk back, but keeping your hand in his helped ground him, “I’m sorry,” he said, calming himself down.

You could see the tears falling even if he didn’t want you to see them.

“There’s no chance of that happening,” you pressed your forehead against his, “I know you, Bucky, you love me.”

“But you’ve seen it, if- if someone knows those words- with that book- they reset me and I can’t-”

You heard him exhale, heavy with pain and hurt and panic. His chest began to rapidly rise and fall.

“Bucky, Darling,” you moved yourself closer and brought your arms around him, to which he responded by wrapping his around your frame, pulling you even closer, and burying his face against your neck, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

Feeling his hot tears against your neck, and his erratic breathing, you tilted your head up, trying not to cry yourself. Stroking across the back of his bare shoulders, you softly combed your fingers through his hair, embracing him against you. It wasn’t easy for him to show this much emotion and you could sense that, staggering breath and long periods of tension, as if he was trying to hold it all back. Feeling him tighten his hug and squeeze his eyes closed, you just held him to let him know it was okay.

“We’ll get through this, I promise,” you whispered, “no one is ever coming near you with that book ever again, and if they do. . . now they’ll have to get through me first.”

Pulling away from you just enough to press his forehead back against yours he smiled softly, staying there for a moment, “how’d you get so tough, huh?”

“I live with a fighter,” you smiled back, “he’s taught me to survive just about anything,” he gave a small laugh with his smile spreading, “so together,” you stole a kiss, “I know we’re unstoppable.”

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thetargaryenbride · 3 years

Text

Levi x Reader:: Marks

Summary:: Sometimes you hated those scars so much, letting insecurities wash over you and allow self-hate to take place. But Levi was always there to remind you how beautiful you were.

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: Some nudity

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You let out a hiss as you slowly unbuckled the belts of your gear one by one, letting them drop heavily on the ground before quickly discarding your uniform and undergarments, throwing them in the laundry basket, leaving you bare. Blood flow finally began running smoothly and normally now that there was nothing to painfully tighten and restrict your thighs. You undid the taut bun, setting your hair free and relieving your scalp with a short massage as you proceeded to enter the bathroom. You let out a sigh of content the moment the hot water washed over your body, easing your sore and tense muscles.

The past forty eight hours had been nightmarish. You had returned from an expedition gone wrong. Two of your squadmates had been injured and as a good captain you had stayed by their side for hours as the doctors and nurses treated them. After that you hadn’t even had the time to wash and change as a mountain of paperwork had been placed on your desk. If that hadn’t been enough, the families of your injured subordinates wanted to speak to you so you had to spend more time reassuring them that everything was all right before returning to your tedious tasks. You had been so busy and just like that, two whole days had passed. The same could be said about the other higher-ups. Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike and the other squad leaders and section commanders were up to the neck buried with work and in such moments you asked yourself whether it was worth to become a captain.

There was so much responsibility.

You wrapped a towel around your body as you finally exited the bathroom, now feeling more refreshed and clean. But when you stepped into your bedroom and passed by the mirror, you froze, slowly turning to look at yourself.

Your skin has always been easy to bruise and you hated that. Now, staring at your thighs – at the ugly markings from the belts marring your skin – you felt sick. And suddenly, you got reminded of every scar your body held. There was one on your calf when a titan had bitten down as you were trying to save a comrade from its jaws. At this point you probably had multiple scars on your back from the amount of times you had fallen, gotten hit or thrown left and right or smashed while fighting those monstrous creatures.

There was one on your abdomen too. It brought shivers down your spine every time you remembered how you obtained it. It happened on the day Wall Maria fell. The Scouts had returned from an expedition. Instead of returning to the base, you had asked Commander Shadis to visit your family – inform them that you were alive and ease their worry.

Your house was near the gates.

You had spent amazing few hours with your family – eating and laughing and chatting together. And then there had been an explosion and only a second later something heavy had rammed against your house. The sound of breaking and cracking of bricks and wood and falling debris had been deafening. You had almost been buried alive under the debris, a piece of wood stabbing you. You had thought that you were going to die. But someone unexpected had come to save you.

Levi.

That had set the beginning of your relationship. When you had asked him why he had gone looking for you despite all the odds, he had just shrugged, saying it was because you were the only person he was able to tolerate. It was valid, considering you were the first and only person to offer him and his friends help and friendship after they joined and you had made sure to shower them with lots of care and kindness.

You didn’t know whether it were insecurities or something else but right now you felt horrible. You hated those scars. You hated your body. You tiredly sat on the bed as you thought about all those other…normal girls who had clean, spotless, soft skin. Tears gathered in your eyes and before you knew it, you were sniffing, trying to suppress your sobs as you cupped your hands over your mouth.

You didn’t even hear when the door to your private quarters opened.

Levi’s eyes widened as they fell on your shaking shoulders. Your back was facing him as he stood silently by the door frozen, unable to move, his mind immediately listing and searching for reasons as to why you were crying.

His legs quickly carried him to your form and he crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. You flinched as you lowered your hands and looked at him through blurry vision before wiping away the offending liquid. He waited a bit, giving you time to compose yourself. When you seemed ready to talk, he spoke.

“What’s wrong?” it was a simple question but his tone was soft and soothing that you felt like caving in and telling him. But you were also ashamed. You didn’t want to appear weak or stupid in front of him. You didn’t want to bother or worry him unnecessarily. After all, one of the reasons as to why he allowed himself to love you, allowed himself to accept you and enter a relationship during those horrid times, was because he knew you could take care of yourself. He knew that you could handle anything thrown your way and survive and come back to him even stronger.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but allow a few moments of weakness. Was it selfish of you?

“It’s…nothing. I’m just being silly, that’s all,” you breathed out and he frowned, his hand squeezing your knee a bit scoldingly.

“You’re crying your eyes out for nothing then? You know you can tell me. But if you don’t want to, it’s ok,” he said as his other hand moved to grasp one of yours in reassurance, making you let out a sigh and close your eyes.

“I hate my body. I hate how…many marks it has,” you sniffed and prepared for him to say that you were behaving like a child or to berate you and scold you for being so weak, eyes squeezing more and more shut when you imagined every scenario.

But he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, what he did surprised you.

He gently unwrapped the towel and let it fall and pool around you, leaving you bare and exposed. You had half a mind to cover yourself with your hands but you were curious as to what he was about to do.

His face got closer and closer until he placed his lips onto your thigh, right over the still red markings from the uniform belts.

“Is it this one?” he asked quietly as he gently kissed it before moving to the one on your other thigh. “Or this?” he repeated the action before lifting his head, hands softly brushing against your legs and climbing upwards, passing by your hips, caressing your sides and resting there as he nuzzled against your abdomen.

“Or maybe this one?” he whispered as he peppered the jagged, long scar with fluttering kisses while his hands raised more and roamed over your back, fingers tracing each scar with such care and love that the tears started falling again. But this time it wasn’t out of sorrow or self-hate. It was because he was worshipping your body. He was worshipping you.

And it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of these scars and marks,” he muttered against your skin and your hand went to thread his raven locks. “They are a proof that you went through hell and you were strong enough to push through and survive. To keep living. Because if there’s one thing that’s worth it in this cruel world, is staying by your loved ones’ side and building beautiful memories together. That makes all the pain and hate fade,” he said before he looked up, his eyes meeting yours as one hand went to wipe off your tears, thumb brushing your cheekbone tenderly.

You gave him a watery smile as you leaned and captured his lips in a delicate kiss which quickly turned into a searing one as you tried to pour all your passion, gratitude and love through it. He rose to his feet and climbed on the bed without breaking the kiss, causing you to lay down as he towered above you, the hand that had brushed your tears still caressing your cheek with love while the other slid down to cup your breast.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #aot x reader #snk x reader #reader #reader imagine #reader insert

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emptyacnt · 3 years

Text

Made for love (Sanemi x F! Reader) NSFW

Minors DNI!

The battle was over. His brother was dead. Sanemi now had no one, he had no family, he didn't even have a reason to be a swordsman anymore. He wanted to retire comfortably, but how could he when fighting was the only thing he could ever do right. He moved. Away from where demon slayer headquarters had once been to a small home several days walk away. In the mornings he would sit on his porch and watch the sun rise, and allow himself to cry. It seemed no matter how many mornings this happened, he always had more tears. Tears he had been holding in his entire life.

One day as he did this, he heard a strange rustling noise and instinctively his hand went to the sword at his hip. He couldn't bring himself to stop carrying it for the comfort it brought him. He was surprised to see a large yellow and white dog bound towards him, it's mouth open and tongue lolling out, tail wagging furiously.

"A.. dog?" He said, reaching out his hand as the dog approached him, barking a friendly hello as he nuzzled against Sanemi's hands.

"Are you lost?" He asked. Around the dog's neck was a red collar with a bell and a name tag.

"Hacchan, that you?" He asked. Hacchan barked in response.

"Hacchan! Hacchan!!" A distinctly female voice cried as you came running up the path, chasing Hacchan who had broken away from you to chase an interesting scent. That scent had been Sanemi.

"I'm so sorry sir!" You apologized, bowing deeply.

"It's alright. I like dogs." Sanemi replied, scratching behind Hacchan's fuzzy ears.

"Did you just move here?" He asked, furiously wiping his face to make sure you didn't notice a single tear.

"Yes, we did! Just down the road. Hacchan was friends with all my neighbors back then, I guess he's lonely now with just me.." You said sadly.

"Why'd you move?" Sanemi asked. You hesitated to reply.

"You don't gotta tell me if you don't wanna." He said, shrugging.

"I had been engaged. My fiance imagined I was cheating on him, I wasn't, but he told everyone I did. I was shunned and we had to move." You confessed. Hacchan, sensing your sadness, came to press himself against your side.

"He sounds like a cunt." Sanemi said simply.

You were shocked by his vulgarity.

"What about you? Why did you move out here?" You asked.

"I was a swordsman. But now I guess. I'm just a man." Sanemi said. The sorrow in his voice was so heavy it made you want to cry.

From that day forward Hacchan insisted on visiting Sanemi every morning on your walks, and you began bringing him gifts. When you made dinner in the evening you always brought him a portion the next time you saw him. If you bought tea, you bought enough to share. While Sanemi didn't seem to react one way or the other to this, it certainly didn't go unnoticed. And finally one morning when you were about to turn to continue your walk with Hacchan, he reached out and grabbed your hand.

"Marry me." He said. It wasn't a question, more of a demand. He felt ready to begin the next chapter of his life, to take a wife, to start a family.

You and Hacchan moved in with him shortly after. Though even after living with him for three months, he would never say he loved you and you still hadn't slept together. Finally you got fed up with this, wondering why he asked you to move in with him if he didn't intend to act like a couple with you. He was sitting on your shared futon reading and you settled yourself onto his lap. He looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Sanemi, do you love me?" You asked.

Sanemi didn't reply. He seemed to be thinking for a long time.

"I don't know. I want to love you. I can't tell. The only people I have ever truly loved are dead. Perhaps if I let myself love you, you will die too. Or maybe, I am simply not built to love." He said, an edge of anger in his voice. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing his head against your soft chest.

"Of course you are built for love, everyone is!" You said. Sanemi made a strange almost growl as he pushed himself away from you, tearing open your yukata. He ripped the fabric off of your shoulders, exposing your breasts and completely tearing your obi in half. You had never experienced strength like that, and you sat there stunned on his lap, almost completely exposed to him.

"How can you say that? My hands are trained to kill demons and that's it, I'm not good at anything else, I don't know how to make them do anything else, I only know how to destroy." He said, his voice cracking under the weight of tears that wouldn't come.

"You are made for love. You can do more than destroy." You said, quietly but sternly nonetheless. You took his hands, so much larger and rougher than yours, pressing them against your breasts. Your nipples, already hard, pressed against the palms of his hands and he groaned as he felt his cock beginning to harden.

"You can be gentle." You said, leaning forward to kiss him as you moved his hands in slow circles on your breasts. Sanemi stared at your chest when you broke the kiss, flexing his fingers as he groped and kneaded you, pinching and twisting your nipples.

"A-ah! Gentle!" You said.

Sanemi grunted in reply and leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he bit it, but before you could scold him he was suckling and licking it with perfect gentleness. His hands slid the remains of your yukata off and then snaked up and down your body, rubbing your back, your arms, your hips and ass. He finally released your breast and looked up at you.

"You're so damn soft. Squishy, warm.." He mused, hugging you so he could feel your breasts press up against his scarred chest.

“Wanna know what you feel like in here..” he said, brushing two of his calloused fingers against your cunt. He pushed your panties aside, swirling his fingertips around your entrance.

“Already wet, huh?” he said, smirking at you.

“Well I.. Love you a lot Nemi.. I’ve wanted to be with you for a while..” you confessed.

Sanemi looked up at you, placing a rough hand on your cheek.

"I love you." He said. It hurt him to say it. The only people he had ever said that to were dead. You noticed how he seemed to become lost in thought, or dragged away from this moment by some painful distant memory.

“Stay here, with me.” you said gently as you kissed him.

Sanemi tangled his fingers into your hair, kissing you deeply while he shoved two fingers into you, curling them against your g-spot roughly. You gasped and arched your back, and Sanemi held you close, pressing you to him.

"Tell me how it feels." he growled against your neck, reaching his free hand down to untie his hakama, reaching into them to stroke himself.

"Feels good.." you managed between soft moans.

"Your fingers are rough b-but, it feels good.."

Sanemi deftly flipped you over, pressing your legs to your chest as he kissed you gently. His body was so warm and strong, your eyes fluttered shut as you enjoyed the comfort of being so close to him, until he shoved himself into you in one hard thrust. You gasped as your eyes flew open. Sanemi fucked you slowly, painfully slowly. Dragging his cock out slow and pushing it back in all the way to your cervix.

"N-Nemi, faster please!" you begged, holding onto his biceps tightly.

"Faster? I thought you wanted me to be gentle." he said, his tone teasing and sarcastic.

"Sanemi please, you feel so good-" you gasped as he picked up his pace immediately, ruthlessly pounding you into the futon.

"You feel so fucking good baby.." he growled.

"Tight, so warm.." he said, he grunted with practically every thrust, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the feeling of your slick walls around him.

"I should've done this a long time ago.." he said, licking your neck before biting it hard. Any wish you had for him to be gentle with you was gone.

"I-I wanted you to!" you managed, words becoming more and more difficult as your climax approached.

"Yeah? Did you want me to just force you down and dominate this little cunt?" he asked you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back as the lewdness of his words pushed you over the edge. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your mouth.

"Lemme hear you, you're gonna make me cum.." he said as he fucked you even harder, a punishing pace as you gushed around him. You were nearly screaming by now, unable to even continue holding onto his arms as your body trembled. The sight of you so completely destroyed because of him, and only him, made him finally climax. You could feel his release, his hot cum filling you up as he let out a feral growl. He stayed inside of you for a while after he finished, panting against your neck.

"I love you." he said breathlessly, kissing your cheek gently.

"I love you too, Nemi." you said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

#luca writes #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny oneshots #demon slayer oneshots #kny x reader

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y0shitan · 3 years

Text

Sa susunod na habang buhay

This is something we wrote in a haste while on the road with my friends. Anways here it is! Hope you all would enjoy our shitty writing also remember if you have any problems you're free to hit me up. You're not alone. You are loved.

Pairing: Maliksi x Reader, implied one-sided Maliksi x Alexandra

TW: Suicide

Maliksi will always love Alexandra Trese, the strong and independent woman that captured his heart despite everything they’ve been through, however the more that he chased the unattainable woman the more he found himself falling for someone else.

And yet he refused to acknowledge the feelings that continued to bloom within his heart, the intoxicating feeling of being loved wholeheartedly was making him dizzy. He doesn’t want to throw away his shot when it comes to the youngest Trese, but why does it hurt more when he denies himself from his happiness? He just wanted to be happy, well he is happy, right?

“Mal, you have to get here fast! Si (Y/N) nawawala!” He can recall his friend, Misaya, calling in frantically causing him to look at Alexandra apologetically as runs out of the Diabolical in search of (Y/N)’s location.

Adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he transformed into his inhuman form to get through the crowd much faster.

“I just want to feel this moment,” She whispered with an aloof smile. The only heir of the (L/N) family whispered to the winds as she went over the railing. All the fear was washed away, leaving her numb to the core. “Binibitawan na kita, Mal. Nawa’y maging maligaya ka sa piling niya at sana’y sa susunod na kwento ng ating buhay ay maaari kitang makapiling muli.”

As she smiles at the bright blue sky with tears cascading down her face, she could no longer pretend that everything was still fine and that nothing was hurting her poor fragile heart but perhaps this had always been her role. She wasn’t just unable to accept the truth of being his friend, just a friend, and will always be a friend.

Everything they shared ever since they were a child, from the protective hugs, innocent forehead kisses, unwavering hold in her hands, and the broken promises of a future that they would no longer meet. “Papa, I’m ready to go back home,” home didn’t feel like home. Not when she grew up accustomed to living like a normal human being and living off from the blood of lowlife thugs that her friends cater her with every night.

“But this is your home already, anak,” Her father said. “You won’t remain happy to join us in the afterlife.”

Maybe he was right, somehow she knew in the back of her mind that it’ll only temporarily remove any sorrow her heart was being filled with, but she was willing to do anything after all she was desperate to remove the aching feeling that kept her up at night. Crying helplessly to no one but herself. “It’s okay, that’s just how life works naman.” She replied monotonously, she was so close to reaching her goal.

No more pain, no more unwanted yearning, and definitely no more him.

She takes the leap of fate with her eyes tightly shut, her spread wide as the cold breeze nips her skin while her blood rushes to her brain. “Goodbye,” she whispers to the universe until she feels something grab her by the wrist.

A disheveled tall, charming man that was sculpted like a fine figurine pulls the falling woman into his arms. “Don’t leave me,” He told her in a strangled voice. “I can’t lose you now.”

They were still falling to the ground but here they were revealing all their deepest secrets and last minute realization.

“But you're already happier with her, Maliksi. Why can't you just let me go? You can still save yourself.”

“Kasi anong purpose ng life ko, if you're no longer here? If you take away all the happiness I have with you when I just realized I'm so fucking in love with my best friend but had been chasing after the wrong people!”

Her eyes snap open at the sudden confession, tears threatening to escape her once more. “Oh, my love. I've always been a fool for you, but we both know you can't love me now.” She told him while using all her strength to push Maliksi away from her while silently pleading the winds to allow her for the last time to command them and save him.

“Life isn't always a fairy tale. You can't always expect to find a happy ending at the end of the story, you can't always expect to be the hero that saves the day.” (Y/N) watches as Maliksi struggles against the wind current that was carrying him back to safety, she could see the way he tried to reach for her but death was already at its spot waiting for her demise. “Maybe next time, you can tell me that you're in love with me and we can build our future that lasts a lifetime.”

(Y/N) (L/N), the child born out of love between a dangga and a wind spirit. The child that was meant to fight the fates, only to die because of a broken heart.

(Y/N) (L/N), the child that loved and cared too much for a man that was destined for someone else would continue to wait for him sa kabilang buhay.

#.yoshi writes #trese #trese x reader #trese maliksi #maliksi x reader #trese maliksi x reader

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Nine]

Summary: Will Poe and the reader be reunited?

Warnings: Angst, character deaths, language, smut. TW-pregnancy, birth, infant, breastfeeding. WC—+10k

A/N-At the end.

“Rey,” At the sound of her name, Rey paused and glanced around to see Leia standing next to the Falcon, waiting. Meeting her kind eyes, she hoped Leia wasn’t going to try and convince her not to go again; she’d already told the wise General that she had to find the Wayfinder, that she needed to complete Luke’s mission and get to Exegol. Finn, Poe, Chewbacca and C3PO were already on board, waiting for her to join them; it was time to leave.

“Leia?” She stepped toward her mentor, who looked around cautiously before lowering her voice to speak to Rey.

“I need to give you something.”

Rey frowned, confused, glancing down to Leia’s empty, “What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, her eyes tired. Rey understood—she felt exhausted too. “I can’t explain it. And you must keep it to yourself until the moment is right—trust me, you’ll know when that is—if you do end up needing to,” Leia took hold of Rey’s hands, squeezing, “I’ll show you, but you must keep it tucked away no matter what.”

Seeing the seriousness in Leia’’s eyes, Rey swallowed and nodded, “Of course. I promise.” She returned the pressure to the General’s hands and watched as she reached up and pressed her fingers gently to Rey’s temple.

In a brief flash, Rey saw enough to understand.

As he was pushed roughly through the doors to an open hangar with Finn and Chewie, Poe couldn’t help but reflect on his life over the past year and a half. He’d had a lot of close calls, even been captured, but this was the first time he felt like he was going to die, as General Hux and a couple of Storm Troopers stood behind them, ready to execute Poe and his friends. He hoped Rey was able to escape, at least.

And Leia could get the news of his death to you. She would make sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. He had no regrets, no, not with you on some planet far away from all of this and free to raise the baby. He’d done everything he could, fought as hard as possible, but that didn’t mean he was guaranteed to live.

Poe tried to picture what the baby might look like, whether they got your smile, his hair. Pain shot through his broken heart that his child would grow with only pictures of him, no memories. He glanced up at Finn, eager to distract himself; he could hear Hux speaking to the Troopers and ignored them.

“What were you going to tell Rey before?”

Finn hesitated, appearing uncomfortable, “You still on that?”

“Oh,” Poe frowned at him incredulously, “Is this a bad time?” He just wanted to hear Finn admit aloud he had feelings for Rey. He could sense it between them, especially recently, and thought that they made a good pair. In another life he could see himself with them, you at his side, enjoying a late-night dinner, laughing around a table while the kids pretended to be asleep in their bedrooms.

Nodding, Finn gave Poe a wary look, “It sort of is?” Poe scoffed, shaking his head.

“So I tell you my deepest secrets but right before we’re about to die you’re locking down on yours?” Poe hadn’t just told Finn about you; after he’d confessed your existence, he hadn’t been able to stop sharing with his friend, who listened attentively as Poe described his life with you, how he’d love you since he was ten years old.

Finn blanched, and after a pause opened his mouth to respond, only shots went off behind them and they flinched. Poe expected to feel pain, or perhaps nothing if the shot was well placed, only they heard thuds behind them and instead glanced around to find Hux holding a blaster, eyes on the dead Troopers momentarily before he looked up at them.

“I’m the spy.” He claimed, a dark smirk on his twisted face, and Poe felt a rush of confused relief—he and Finn exchanged looks as Chewie groaned.

“What?” He exclaimed at the same moment Finn yelled, “You?” In disbelief.

Hux ignored them, “We don’t have much time, we have to go.” He gestured for them to follow and after a brief pause, they hastened to climb to their feet.

Poe hurried forward and grabbed a few of the fallen Troopers blasters, passing them to Finn and Chewie before taking one for himself. His blood was rushing, the feeling of being alive still—of getting lucky, again—made him feel powerful like you were out there somewhere sending him the strength and good fortune that he needed at every turn.

As they ran behind Hux, Finn touched Poe’s arm. “That was too close—made me realize, do you have a way of her knowing if something happens to you?”

Poe nodded, “Leia will tell her.”

But he sincerely hoped that would never happen, that you wouldn’t be standing in the doorway of some home he’d never know and hear the words that he had died, that he was never coming for you. The idea of you being in that kind of pain was something he couldn’t fully fathom, and it only renewed his determination to get to the Wayfinder and finish this fight once and for all.

11 Months Ago

“Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

Memories of your life with Poe had a way of burrowing into the forefront of your mind when you least expect them; when you let your guard down. The emotional goodbye all those years before, back on Yavin-4 when you were just kids—Poe leaving with Charlie to join the Resistance...it was a lifetime ago. And as much as you believed his words both then and now, it didn’t make the pain any easier to endure as you lay here without him, the Healer and Kes having left you alone with the newborn baby cradled in your arms.

You were surprised when the Healer had passed you the baby—after almost nine hours of labour—to see the tuft of dark curls on their head; Kes had remarked that Poe had come into the world with as much hair, and you’d laughed through your mixed tears of sorrow and joy and love. So they took after their dad—what a beautiful, heartbreaking thought.

Stars, you hoped Poe would meet them before long--before they grew too much. Just seeing the tiny creature, skin-to-skin with you like the Healer recommended, both made your heart feel complete while simultaneously tearing it apart. He should have been here to hold your hand, to cut the cord and press soft kisses to both of your heads and cry tears of joy from it all.

It wasn’t fair. Up until this moment you’d been able to lock back to anger and the bitter feelings over having let Poe send you away because it had been the right choice no matter what way you looked at it. But now, as you lay exhausted and bursting with love for the baby you made with your soulmate, you let some of that anger free through wretched sobs because it wasn’t fair that he had to miss this, that for all you knew he could be...

You stopped yourself from thinking of the worst-case scenario. It wasn’t helpful to imagine what he was doing now, where he was, if he was okay. And you’d promised him you would keep him alive in your mind unless you knew for certain that he wasn’t.

A small whine met your ears and you glanced down at the baby, smiling at their pinched expression as they struggled to adapt to their new surroundings. “It’s okay, little bug. Mama is here, shhh...” You cooed softly, running a lone finger over their hair in a gentle motion. You watched their eyes flutter beneath the lids, enjoying the feel of your touch, and then froze when they opened their eyes for the first time to look up at you blearily.

Stars, they had Poe’s eyes.

Now - 35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

When Temmin died, Poe truly began to lose all hope.

Before watching another friend’s x-wing get shot down, he’d managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel for that hope, for any remaining belief that they could win this fucking fight. That everything he’d ever sacrificed was worth it because now they had arrived and it was time to put an end to it all—but then he was screaming for Snap to watch his six, heard the anguished cry through the comm when he was hit, the searing memory of losing Charlie so many years before in the same way making his stomach churn, and he just felt so...

So fucking hopeless.

Leia was gone. The Resistance was down to pathetic numbers, and he had finally lost all hope.

Shit, if he was being honest with himself he’d been running through these last few days with urgency and adrenaline that prevented him from overthinking the odds, a blissful denial that anything other than winning could occur. When he’d told the remaining fighters of the Resistance that this was their final stand, that help would come, he had meant it as much as he’d hoped it was true.

“Help will come if they know there is hope,” Poe had stared around at his friends, at their doubting expressions, “They will. We have friends out there. The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone. We’re not alone—good people will fight if we lead them.”

In all of the time that had passed between when he’d said goodbye to you to this moment, he’d never once regretted sending you far away from the fight. Even here, with Rebel, after Rebel dying and a fleet of Destroyer’s that would wipe out entire planets unless they bent to the will of the First Order, he felt a sense of peace knowing that you were safely tucked away well beyond the reaches of their tyranny. His child would grow up with a mother who could share stories of Poe’s life, his love for you, for them.

It still stung, though, knowing he would never see you again. That he would die fighting and his last thoughts would be of you, of his little family, and you would have no idea. He hoped when you did find out the Resistance was done, the fight was lost, that you didn’t take it too hard—didn’t blame yourself in any way. He wanted you to be mad at him, not at yourself, not after everything you’d done for him, everything you had sacrificed.

He almost could have laughed, bleak as the outlook now was it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that no aid had arrived, that Lando and Chewie flew to the inner core worlds for nothing—clearly, no one was coming. Just like the Battle of Crait, they were alone; only now Leia was gone and Poe was the General, he was the one everyone was screaming for orders from through the comms, he was the one that had to say it aloud.

“My friends,” His voice was scratchy, choked up, as his mind played flashes of his life—of you, of losing Charlie, marrying you, losing Leia. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

He would die taking down as many enemies as he could. He would tell the rest of them to either do the same or flee—he wouldn’t blame them if they fled. Poe could almost imagine himself doing it, but the idea of finding you somewhere out there and saying he’d left at the final hour made bile heave in his stomach. He would never abandon the fight, not when you had wanted to stay as much as you had, but left for the baby.

As he struggled to pull in a breath to speak, he recalled the last time he saw you.

It was late, the base quiet and most of the Rebels sleeping, all except for Poe and you—it was time to say goodbye, under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t allowed to follow you into the hangar because he couldn’t know even the most minute details of how you got off-planet. Still, he would walk you as far as he could, and savour every final second together.

“I changed my mind, I’m not leaving you.” You whispered, halting in the hallway and turning to face Poe. One hand ran absentmindedly over your swollen stomach, the other reached up to grip his forearm. Your lower lip trembled, and he felt every word you wanted to say to convince him you should stay.

Poe took a shuddering breath, “Sweet girl, you aren’t leaving me—stop thinking about it like that. You’re saving our baby, keeping them safe, remember?” He tried to keep the desperate plea minimal in his voice because it had been like this for the last few days. One moment you were reluctantly prepared to leave, the next you were begging to stay. He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could stand before he broke down and let you stay.

Your pretty eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, just like his. You’d each cried more than enough to last a lifetime, and although heat pricked the corners of his eyes now he knew no more tears could come until you were out of sight. He would cry in his bed alone tonight, and probably every night until he saw you again, but right now he needed to show strength.

You stepped into his arms and Poe hugged you close, your body angling your stomach so that it wasn’t pressed between you both. “I don’t...Poe, I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”

Poe stared at you in disbelief, “Not strong enough? Are you kidding me?” He brought his hands to cup your cheeks gently, “You are the strongest person I know. What you are about to do for us, for our baby, is the most incredible sacrifice anyone could make. Everything you are doing and have done in your life only proves how amazing and strong you are—no matter what happens, please never forget that, okay?”

You whimpered sadly, nodding your head, and Poe shakily pressed his lips to yours, capturing you for one last kiss. It was soft and for one brief moment, he let himself imagine it was a greeting, though in truth it only made his heart fracture further rather than make him feel any better.

“Whatever happens, Poe, we’ll be okay...so don’t worry about us, focus on yourself,” You reached up and pushed your hands into his curls, savouring them one final time. “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting, flyboy.”

Poe smiled sadly down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your beautiful face, “Never, sweetheart, I promise I’ll never stop fighting. And this isn’t goodbye,” He pressed one hand gently against your belly, “It’s just a...see you soon. Once I’m finished blowing shit up in my x-wing.”

You laughed, tears streaming down your face and then pulled Poe against you again, his hand stuck between your bodies as you crushed him in a strong embrace. “I love you, Poe.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

35 ABY - Sorgan

You missed flying, though the place Leia had sent Kes and you to barely had any air traffic, the planet much too out of the way. Still, it had a sky that night or day you’d find yourself gazing into, wishing you could feel that weightlessness that came with blasting off from base, that you would look to your left and see Poe in his ship, the stars stretching beyond.

Poe. Stars, you missed him more and more every day. You had trouble believing it had been over a year, that the baby was now eleven months old and starting to try and walk and they’d never met their father. Though each time this knowledge became too heavy, you reminded yourself of the peaceful life you were living on Sorgan and how that had been the whole point of you leaving the fight—for the baby, for safety.

Sorgan was so far removed that no news reached the planet from the middle and core rims, something you’re sure Leia knew when she decided to send you here. You sometimes felt suffocated, not knowing a single thing about what was happening out there, but then you knew if you did know, it might make it harder to stay. And you couldn’t leave, you knew that for certain the moment you’d laid eyes on your newborn when the Healer had set the baby in your arms, face pinched as shrieks filled the air until they’d calmed, skin to skin with you.

You had gazed at the beautiful baby and you knew that you could never bear to part from them, no matter what you did or didn’t know about the war. Nonetheless, it was perhaps infinitesimally easier to be ignorant and allow yourself to imagine that it was all going fine.

You were living in a small but cozy yurt on the edge of a fishing village. The simple space comprised of the main room that hosted the barebones kitchen with a big table to eat at and a couple of comfortable sitting chairs, and had two rooms, one on either side, for sleeping quarters. The baby was in a crib at the end of your bed, where you were laying now. Very much awake even as they slept soundly.

Or so you thought until you were jerking from your thoughts at their sudden cries. You waited for a minute, the soft cries more whimpers than anything, and hoped the baby would soothe themselves back to sleep. They hiccuped, however, and started to cry again from the jolt. You sighed before sliding out from under the covers and padding softly to their crib.

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” You accused, grinning at the baby with the scrunched face, all the drama of their dad and only eleven months. Carefully lifting them, you tucked the baby against your chest and began to stroll slow circles around the bedroom, swaying as you went. “You know, when your dad finally comes and meets you he’s taking night duty over. I don’t care how many wars he wins.”

The little coo you got in response was enough to tell you Bug was on your side.

Though every day apart from Poe was painful, you did savour the good moments with the little piece of your heart that remained, beating for the baby you held now. And on this peaceful, sleepy planet most days had plenty of good—even if you were sad. Kes was an incredibly positive man, and like his son knew how to read you well, often stepping in to whisk the baby away whenever he sensed your sorrow was too hard to contain. You tried to spend all of the energy you had smiling for Bug because that was the only thing you could really do.

The guilt was heavy. You knew Poe would be devastated if he knew just how much you carried, living so comfortably—if a little rustic—on Sorgan all while he spent every day fighting to stay alive. But it was easier to focus on that guilt, to hate yourself than it was to be afraid of losing him—never seeing him again. Stars, the guilt was practically a salve in comparison to that.

Some days though, it was harder to keep the frame of mind that staying was the only option. As the baby grew, the guilt began to feed a steady flow of ‘what if’s’ into your mind. It was getting harder to ignore the sense of it. When Bug started to mix food into their diet, weaning partially from your breastmilk, you told yourself you could wean them completely, earlier than you planned but then you could hire a ship to take you back to D’Qar...

Only, you didn’t even know if D’Qar was still safe anymore.

It was a circular battle you couldn’t win no matter the choice you made, though you always chose the baby, chose to stay because you promised Poe you would. He’d told you that you were making the greatest sacrifice, and he had been right—he knew he could distract himself with the fight, and that you would only be able to distract yourself so much with raising the baby. He understood you would spend every day apart wishing you could rejoin him.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts and you glanced down at the baby to find them fast asleep again. You smiled fondly, that little chunk of your heart giving a happy beat as you settled them back into their crib and ran your fingers gently over their soft cheek.

“Goodnight, Charlie, my sweet girl.” You whispered heart clenching at the sight of her chubby cheeks relaxed in sleep.

Deciding a cool drink was needed, you slipped from the quiet of your room and into the main extension of the yurt you shared with Kes. A single lamp lit the small space dimly, and you helped yourself to a glass of water and took a seat at the table. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before Kes appeared and sat down across from you with a knowing smile on his face.

He sat silently for a few minutes as you sipped at your drink, speaking only once you’d finished. “Can’t sleep again?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, exhaustion setting deep in your bones.

“I keep having the same dream, Kes. Poe and Bug, back home on Yavin-4. Only, the beach is in colour but they aren’t.” You choked up, glancing toward your room, where you could see the crib through the doorway.

Kes followed your gaze, “Bug will meet him someday. I know it. You need to believe that too, kiddo, and you really need to get some sleep.” He patted your hand gently before standing and you watched him make his way to his room, pulling the curtain across his doorway as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your palms into your closed eyes, willing your mind to settle so that you could go to bed and get some rest. You just don’t think you could stand to have the dream again—always waking up and wondering, would you ever really get to see Poe again? Would he ever get to meet his little girl?

When you climbed back beneath the cool sheets of your bed, you fell into light sleep, your dreams the same as ever—Poe playing with Charlie on the beach back home on Yavin-4 while you sat on a blanket on the sand watching, laughing as they splashed each other. Your family, together again.

35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

As wretched as it was to think of never seeing you again, this wasn’t the first time he thought he was going to die. At least here, in his x-wing, he could take out as many enemies as he could before going out in a blaze—just like...like Charlie.

“I thought we had a shot. There’s too many of them.” He finished speaking to the remaining fighters in resignation, his eyes heavy—he was tired, so tired. Enough so that when a new, familiar voice came clear over the comms, he sat up straighter before his mind even registered what they were saying.

“Oh, but there’s more of us, Poe. There’s more of us.”

Poe spun his ship around, his heart frozen in his chest, flew up over the wreckage of the one First Order ship they’d so far managed to take out—and there it was.

Lando and Chewie were back; he could see the Falcon, and behind them were thousands and thousands of ships. And still, more coming as he looked, pulling out of light speed to fall in with the Falcon. Poe could hardly believe his eyes, but right before him, he couldn’t doubt for a moment that his friends had come back and they...

They had brought hope.

You sat with your toes in the water, the sun shining on your back warm and comforting. Charlie splashed around happily, her water suit covering her arms and legs, joining her cute straw hat in protecting her from too much sunlight. She kept looking from the water around her chubby legs to the flowing stream behind her-as if dissatisfied with the ankle-deep water you had set her in.

“You can go in the river in a few years,” You cocked a brow at her as she gave you a pouty look. “You’re very cute, but mama says no.”

With a resigned sigh that seemed far too mature for her, she went back to splashing the water and you slid your toes towards her, wriggling them so that she tried to catch hold. When she managed to grab your big toe, you laughed and she giggled brightly, her gleeful peals filling the quiet around you.

It was a beautiful day on Sorgan. They all were, really, even the rainy days, the ones that kept you inside the yurt listening to the rain while Kes tried to teach Charlie how to crawl and you laughed as you watched them. But the sunny days were the best, the ones you could fill with endless activity to distract yourself as much as to tire out the baby. Because when your mind settled, it tended to stray off into dark thoughts.

Maybe Poe was gone.

Maybe he would never come to find you here, your little family would be memories of Poe as you raised his little girl with Kes instead. The weight of that responsibility, of ensuring she had a happy life all while missing a whole section of your heart for the rest of your own was heavy so you tried not to overthink it.

You channelled that energy into Charlie, focused on her and you think you were doing a good job of keeping her safe and content. You showed Charlie pictures of Poe every day, wanting to ensure she knew his face even if she would never get to see it in person. She’d been looking at him since she was just a little bean, and you repeated his name, ‘dada’, every time as well. She wasn’t speaking yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the association in her mind when she was ready to start talking.

Charlie stopped splashing and glanced up at you with wide eyes, her expression familiar. “Hungry, Bug?” You reached out for her and lifted her from the water, carefully standing and wading to the grassy spot you’d set your picnic up.

You dried her off first, then let her crawl on the blanket while you dry your feet before following her to sit. She beelined for you as you untied your tunic, lowering one side and easing your breast out, grateful your nanny droid had provided you with a soothing balm for your aching nipples. Breastfeeding was your favourite way to bond with her, but Stars, it came at a cost.

You settled Charlie against you and watched as she closed her eyes, suckling softly. You adjusted the tunic to protect her from the sun and fell into a quiet state as she fed. It was sometime later that the sound of a large ship captured your attention, breaking you from your meditation.

Charlie was asleep against you, her face still pressed to your breast, and didn’t stir as the ship, far in the distance, flew past. You wondered briefly, a jolt of electricity coursing through you wondering if it was Poe come to find you both. But when the ship flew only further away, you pushed the idea from your mind. It was probably a shipment from the core worlds going to the markets. You made a mental note to plan a trip there for the next day—if there were fresh supplies, you might find a treat or two. Get something nice for Kes, perhaps.

Feeling exhaustion hit, you napped with Charlie there on the river's edge. You had nothing to fear on Sorgan, and in fact, many of the neighbours in your village were around, not too close but enough so that if needed they could come and wake you. You kept Charlie protected from the sun but let it shine on you, the brightness no match for the gentle lull of sleep, the soft trickle of the river.

When you woke an hour later, you felt more rested than you had in some time, pausing as you sat up to stretch the kinks from your body. Charlie was wriggling and you knew she probably needed to be changed. “Time to go home?” You asked her with a grin, and she made a sour little face in response that made you laugh. You loved how expressive she was, how even though she wasn’t talking yet she managed to let you know how she felt.

With practiced movements, you packed up the little picnic, hoisted your bag over one shoulder before lifting her to sit against your hip, and made the short walk home. Kes was sitting outside the yurt when you arrived, reading, though he set the book down at the sound of your footsteps and grinned widely when Charlie cooed for him.

“Did you have a nice time, ladies?”

You smiled, “She sure loves the water, I should start taking her in the river, see how she likes floating,” Kes took her from you carefully—Charlie made a face and you both laughed, “Sorry, Kes, I think she needs to be changed.”

“No worries, you relax for a bit and I’ll deal with diaper duty.”

Nodding gratefully, you set your bag down on the chair Kes had vacated and turned to gaze out at the grassy lawn. It was a simple home, certainly not where you would have planned to raise a baby, but it was peaceful. You start to think about the next steps, how long you would stay on Sorgan before leaving. You would go ahead first, find out if it was safe, and then you wanted to return to Yavin-4. Not for a few years, although you’d like to leave before Charlie got too old and she was too attached to this place.

You stepped away from the front of the yurt to stare out over the fields. First towards the villagers as they came in from working for the day in the waters, ready to put their feet up before making dinner, and then you turned toward the river and watched the water for a while, your arms crossed, listening distantly to Charlie and Kes making each other laugh inside.

When a voice broke through your thoughts a short while later, you started in surprise before spinning, recognition of the honey-warm tone slamming into you.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

“Rey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you—“

Rey cut Poe off, gripping his arm with a soft smile, “It was Leia, Poe. She found me before we left Ajan Kloss, she put the coordinates in my head, just in case she didn’t make it.”

Poe hugged her quickly, “Still, without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find her here.” He hurried to the ramp, hitting the button to lower it with excitement mounting within him by the second.

“What do you want us to do?” Finn was standing next to Poe as he waited for the ramp to lower onto the grass.

Poe glanced up at his friend, “I have to go alone, can you wait for me here? I’ll come for you—or send for you—if I find them.” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke, nerves slicing his stomach to pieces. He hadn’t felt this close to you in almost a year and a half.

Finn nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’ll wait. She has to be here, Poe, you’ll find her.” He clapped Poe on the shoulder encouragingly and he swallowed, unable to form a response so he just returned a half-smile and then clambered down the ramp.

Sorgan was a quiet, sleepy planet full of green. If you were here, the idea that you spent all this time in such a place was comforting to Poe—you would have been able to enjoy the land, be outside, not cooped up somewhere.

He was in a small village, and the market that lined the street was bustling with after-work crowds that were in the tens, the people all smiling at one another in a way that revealed how kind of a place it was. He wandered for a few minutes until he spotted a stand that carried medical supplies and approached the vendor, a friendly-looking older woman who grinned at him.

“Hello, stranger. How can I help you?”

Poe held up the photo he had of you, one he’d taken not long after finding out you were pregnant, your hand on your small belly and a big smile on your face. “Have you seen this woman, ma’am?”

“That’s Mrs. Carstairs,” She responded with a small nod. Poe felt his insides inflate, his excitement now ready to burst forth in a shout of glee that he had to bite back. He took a steadying breath, realizing that you had used your mother’s maiden name as your cover.

He grinned, “Yes, (y/n)—“

The woman cut him off, her eyes widening, “Oh now, you must be the husband. Now that I look at you, the baby has your eyes.”

Poe’s stomach turned over at this information. The baby had his eyes? “That’s me, do you know where I can find her, please?” He made to pull out some credits to pass over to the woman for her trouble, only she reached over to take his hand gently and shook her head, smiling.

“No need for that, dear,” She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby road that split off from the village, “Just follow that, about twenty minutes you’ll come across a fishing village. She lives right off that road on the outskirts of the village.”

Saying his thanks quickly, Poe ran faster than he had in his life in the direction she had indicated.

When he finally saw the little yurt along the main road, he breathed a sigh of relief. The sun was lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow over the ponds, fields and the nearby river. It was beautiful, and as he passed the fishing village he smiled at the villagers, who gave him curious looks before returning friendly smiles. He slowed to catch his breath, his eyes moving back to the yurt, now much closer. And then his gaze snapped to a figure standing not far from the door, gazing out in the direction of the river.

It was you.

His heart about ripped out of his chest at the sight of you alive and well. The closer he got he could see how you’d barely changed—your skin had seen more sunlight, your hair was longer, and he could see the soft curves of your figure that motherhood had brought on. He watched you for a moment, standing a few feet back, and he could hear his dad inside the yurt making a baby laugh.

Making his baby laugh.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

You spun around so fast you were a blur, though Poe didn’t miss the way your hand twitched toward the blaster at your hip before your eyes landed on him. Seeing this only made him grin more broadly, but nerves for the reunion kept him rooted to the spot. What if you were angry with him? The thought hadn’t occurred to him before this, but perhaps you-

“POE!” You cried out, and then you were running forward and jumping into his arms and it was everything he’d dreamed of and more. He caught you and held you close as you both fell to your knees in the grass, and Poe let himself get lost in the moment, sobs pulling from deep within.

He hugged you as tight as he could and then started to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you. Stars above, I missed you,” He murmured, his eyes closing as your fingers sunk into his curls and tugged him, your lips crashing to his in a desperate kiss that felt exactly like coming home.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to find us,” You whimpered after pulling back, your body still pressed against his, “I can’t believe you’re finally here...”

Poe shook his head, “Leia had a backup plan all along. Stars, you are so beautiful,” He swept his fingers over your cheeks, getting a good look at you now and seeing how well cared for you looked; Sorgan had been good to you. “I’m here now. It’s over, we’re safe now.”

You released your hold on his head to run your hands over your face, wiping at your tears, “Poe, the baby’s just inside, I—”

Poe and you both turned your heads at the same time at the sound of Kes coming out the door, his excited shout of glee making you both grin wider. He was holding the baby in his arms, and they looked around at the sound of your laugh, eyes just like Poe’s wide and curious—what a beautiful sight.

For a beat, the baby just stared at him, and then as Kes moved closer, a smile—a little smirk just like yours—appeared.

“Dada!”

Kes froze and glanced down at the baby in surprise, and Poe heard you gasp, one of your hands landing on his arm and squeezing excitedly. “That’s right Charlie, sweet girl, this is your Dada!”

Poe couldn’t stop staring at the baby, who hadn’t looked away from him either even as you spoke to her. She made grabby hands then, reaching for him and he tentatively raised his hands. His dad closed the gap between them and lowered the baby and he took hold of her cautiously, words caught in his throat and his heart beating fast.

She was a solid thing, sturdy in his arms and cooing happily as she gazed up in wonder at Poe. She was stunning, her eyes honey-brown and lined with thick, long lashes just like yours. Her skin was soft, and she was chunky, her baby rolls making him smile wider. After a minute, she spoke again, “Dada!” She raised her little fists towards his scruffy jaw before glancing at you.

Poe followed her gaze, “How does she know me?” He breathed, his heart in his throat.

Your watery smile only grew, “Showed her your picture every day. Wanted her to know her daddy, even if he...he couldn’t be with us,” You shuffled closer, one arm securing itself around Charlie and grasping Kes’ arm. “That was her first word, Poe. She said it just for you.”

Tears stinging at his eyes, Poe sat huddled with his family, clutching the baby closer with one arm, the other around your shoulders. His dad had thrown his arms around both you and Poe and was lamenting about how good it was to see him while Charlie cooed happily in his arms.

The moment was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Poe couldn’t put Charlie down. He carried her around for the rest of the evening, following you into the comfortable yurt you had called home all this time, one hand always on you, keeping you close.

Dad was making dinner and Poe enjoyed the banter you had, the routine of living together clearly having established itself long ago. He felt a jolt of gratitude for his dad dropping everything on Yavin-4 to take care of you and Charlie all this time.

He ate with one hand, relinquishing his hold on you but tugging you into his side before eating, his eyes constantly drinking in every expression on the baby’s face. He hadn’t realized how in love he would be so instantly, and certainly had not expected Charlie to adore him just as much—he’d thought the baby would be shy around him, maybe cry when he held them. But you had ensured she knew his face, his name—just another thing you did for him.

Poe was never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you had done.

“Poe?” Your soft voice broke into his thoughts and he looked around at you. You gave him a tentative sort of look, “Where is BB8?”

His shoulders relaxed automatically, “Oh he’s on the ship I came here in...with my friends,” He grinned and you copied him, your eyes curious, “I’ll go get them tomorrow and you can meet...I have so much to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your expression softened, “We have all the time in the world now.” You reached up and stroked his jaw, the motion so familiar his eyes automatically closed and emotion swelled in his chest. Before he could reply, he felt a second, much smaller hand land on his jaw and begin to copy the movement.

He smiled, looking through his lashes to see Charlie watching you intently as she imitated you, “Clever baby,” He murmured, and Charlie lit up at the sound of his voice. He turned his head and kissed her little hand affectionately.

“She gets her brains from me,” Kes piped up, tossing a wink at you before collecting everyone’s plates. He set them in the large stone sink before glancing at his watch. “You want to put her down for the night in my room?”

As you nodded, your eyes falling from Kes to Charlie, Poe felt a flush begin to creep up his neck at the idea of being alone with you again after so much time. He wanted to hold you close with nothing separating your bodies and curl into your healing warmth. Your hand reached for his, pulling him from his thoughts, and you tipped your head toward the baby in his arms, whose eyes were blinking slowly as exhaustion set in.

“Time for bed, little Bug,” You murmured, leading Poe towards your room. The curtain across the doorway sat open, fluttering slightly in the cool evening air, and the room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight outside and some of the filtering light from the lamps in the main room of the yurt.

Poe carried Charlie to her crib, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Goodnight, Charlie, I love you.” He whispered, smiling to himself when she replied with a sleepy little coo. You took her from Poe then and took a moment to show him how to put the baby down for the night.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he watched you soothe Charlie, your fingers brushing delicately over her cheeks until her fluttering lashes settled and a small snore confirmed she was asleep. Poe hadn’t felt so much love in such a long time, he was half convinced he wouldn’t survive all of it thrumming through him now. And Stars, he was fucking proud of you, of how good of a mother you were; you’d done an amazing job raising Charlie so far, and he briefly worried about how he would ever be able to compare to you; if he could be as good of a parent as you were.

Once you had Charlie tucked in, you pushed the crib silently into Kes’ room, then wandered over to an armchair and picked up a blanket. When you turned to look up at Poe, his breath caught at the expression on your face. “Come with me, flyboy.”

Gulping, Poe followed you outside and across the grassy lawn in silence. You led him straight to a secluded spot along the riverbank, the flow of the water the only sound he could hear aside from his heartbeat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous, alone with you for the first time in over a year—he’d faced down death countless times since, and yet it was this moment that was giving him pause.

He watched as you carefully spread the blanket out on the cool grass, then slipped off your shoes before stepping towards Poe with a soft smile. “Come here,” You whispered, and he closed the gap between you both eagerly. Kicking off his shoes before pulling you against him in a crushing hug, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar scent deeply.

He couldn’t have said who started to cry first, just that the moment he had you tight in his arms, you were both taking shuddering breaths. He let himself sob in a mixture of joy and sadness for everything, one hand cradling your head against his chest as you sniffled. “Sweet girl,” Poe drew back to look down at you after a few minutes, “Maker, I missed you. Every day was...shit, just complete shit without you.” He admitted, eyes closing automatically when you reached up to brush the tears from his face.

“I missed you too, but you’re here now, Poe. You’re here and you’re safe,” You whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to the end of his nose, “You’re safe, baby.”

He kissed you then; harsher than he’d intended, but you met him with equal intensity, your hands sliding into his hair to draw him closer, teeth clashing. The need then, to be with you, became overwhelming—he pushed your pants down frantically, then undid the tie of your wrap tunic and slid it off your shoulders, grunting when he realized you wore no chest band beneath.

You’d started undressing him, but when your hand passed over his length he brushed his fingers against your pebbled nipples in response and you hissed, body jerking away slightly. Poe’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled back from kissing you, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

You tugged at his shirt, smiling softly, and he removed it before glancing down your body, his eyes drinking in every glorious curve, the fullness to your breasts. “Breastfeeding is hard on these,” You replied, gesturing toward your somewhat swollen nipples, “You didn’t hurt me, just need to be careful.”

Poe nodded his understanding, surveying your postpartum body with a new wild hunger he’d never before experienced. You were beautiful, always, but something about seeing your shape with its new fullness, your milk-filled breasts and soft stomach—it made him feral. With a groan, he quickly helped you to lay down on the blanket, careful to avoid your chest as he peppered kisses down your warm body, relishing in every square inch of you. “My beautiful love,” He spread your legs apart, his hand trailing down the slit of your wet heat, “Oh sweet girl, so wet for me. You’re a fucking dream.”

As much as he wanted to taste you, lick you until you couldn’t see, the need to be inside of you was too great to allow for any more time apart. Propping himself on one arm, Poe gripped your thigh, lifting it from the ground, and gently rocked his hips forward, groaning as you tightly gripped around his cock, your body needing his just as much.

“Oh fuck, Poe...”

“I know—I’ve got you,” Poe whispered, settling between your thighs, he dropped your leg and lowered his body fully over yours, careful to keep his weight on his arm. He captured your lips against his as he slowly dragged his cock back, then rutted forward, building a slow pace meant to draw out the feeling of bliss for as long as possible. “Missed you—dreamt of you every night, baby, every fucking night.”

You had one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other pressed into his lower back and your legs wrapped around his hips. You whimpered, “N-never leaving you again,” The words came out strained, thick with emotion even as you moaned at the feel of him moving within you, “It’s you a-and me, f-forever. Forever.” Your back arched slightly, and Poe groaned at the change in angle, your walls clamping around him harder.

“Fuck,” He felt himself getting close and quickly slid his free hand between his body and yours, slamming into you as he circled your clit tenderly. “Forever, sweet girl, I promise—cum for me, let me feel you—“

“Poe—“ You whined, your eyes fluttering as your pleasure spiked, and he felt your body go rigid beneath him as his hips stuttered—he came with you, spilling himself with a groan as you trembled and moaned, then pressing himself as deep as he could while you both came tumbling back to each other.

When Poe finally collapsed next to you, he slipped out of you carefully before tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you both caught your breath. “Still...still got it, flyboy.” You joked, giggling when Poe shifted to look down at you with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same to you.”

“Ah well, it’s busy work running around after a baby, you know. Keeps you fit.” You grinned, snuggling against Poe as the cool night air seemed to seep between you. He reached above his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it over your upper body to protect you from getting too cold.

Once he was satisfied you were comfortable, he rolled so that he was looking down at you, your head resting on his forearm. “Sweet girl, you—I mean, Charlie is perfect. You kept her safe, raised her, taught her who I was...I can never thank you enough, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Oh Poe,” You smiled, your eyes glistening as you gazed up at him with a fondness that he felt almost undeserving of, a hand cupping his cheek. “You came back to us, that’s all I could have ever asked for—you’re alive and you’re here.” You choked up, then, and Poe leaned down to press his forehead to yours, cupping your cheek softly with one hand.

You lay together for a short while; until the cold became too much. Curling up together in bed sounded almost too good to be true. “Come on, sweet girl, let’s get some sleep,” He gathered you in his arms, pausing as you grabbed at the clothing he wasn’t going to bother putting on, and carried you into the yurt, the blanket abandoned in the grass outside.

When Poe had his body pressed against yours under the comforter of the bed you’d slept in alone all this time, he kept his arms securely around you and felt peace wash over him, “Going to introduce you to some pretty special friends in the morning, and then we can plan our next steps, my love.”

With a happy little sigh, you tucked your head into his neck and fell asleep promptly, your light snores lulling him until, just at the precipice of sleep, he smiled to himself—he was home.

The first thing you noticed when you woke early the next morning was the bed next to you was empty. Your hands roamed for Poe and when you didn’t find him you sat up quickly, wondering if perhaps you had dreamt of the day prior, of him coming home...

Only, a little giggle from outside your room sounded and you heard Poe proudly declare, “Clever, just like your mama, Charlie girl.”

You hadn’t ever known happiness like this, truly. Your heart was full and repaired and you couldn’t believe how after so much time, so many years of mistakes and pain, you were married to your best friend and he was currently waiting for you to wake up while caring for your baby, the little girl who shared traits of the both of you. This felt like a dream, but it was so raw it couldn’t be anything other than real.

You sprang from bed, throwing on your robe and hurrying out to see Poe holding Charlie as he sat in the armchair, bouncing her on his knee as she giggled for him. When you paused to watch, a smile stretching over your face, he glanced up at you and his own broadened, eyes shining brightly with affection.

“Morning, mama,” His thick morning voice always sent heat through you, and the fact that he was sitting shirtless, his hard muscles flexing as he moved Charlie only doused further fuel on the fire within. He seemed to read that in your expression, his soft eyes darkening somewhat before he sent you a wink that said there’d be time for that again later.

Charlie had looked around to follow Poe’s gaze and she cooed loudly when she saw you, her hands raised towards you. You frowned, “Oh, now you want mama time? Could it be that you’re hungry?” Charlie made grabby hands as Poe laughed and you pulled her from his arms before settling into the chair next to him, easing your robe open enough for her to have access to your chest.

Settling her in for her meals was second nature to you; you knew the way she preferred to lay, how to hold her just right, that she liked to feed quietly in the mornings but at night you were allowed to rub her back and speak soothing words to her. As she began to suckle, you carefully adjusted your breast to make the angle more comfortable, then glanced up remembering that Poe was watching.

The expression on his face was stunning—he was watching you rapturously, as though the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. You saw emotion mixed in with the awe and the adoration, and you knew he was feeling grateful he hadn’t missed something as pure as this entirely, that Charlie hadn’t grown too much.

You leaned your head back to rest and smiled at Poe warmly, “She’s on partial foods now, you can feed her yourself a little later, if you want.” You whispered, and his face brightened even more. You felt a bit like those first days after you’d joined him and your brother on D’Qar, the giddy joy of reuniting making the smiles stretch for days.

“I’d love that,” He shuffled his chair closer, resting one hand behind where you were holding Charlie, the other raising to brush over your cheek. “Does it...hurt?”

You shook your head and his look of concern relaxed, “Not really, she’s good about not biting,” Poe cringed at the thought and you giggled, “She’s a good baby. Now, you said you wanted us to meet your friends?”

He nodded, his expression softening sadly, “They’re the reason I was able to make it home to you...I have so much to tell you, but I want you to meet them first.” Poe’s eyes dropped down to watch Charlie again and you let him have a moment, recognizing he had suffered a great deal over the year and a half apart.

You let your eyes wander over his bare torso and noticed now, in the morning light, that he had some new scars, some angrier than the others. The idea of him having been hurt made your stomach sink, and you couldn’t help but lean toward him, capturing his lips against yours when he glanced up. He moaned softly at the tender kiss, petting your hair, and you let yourself sink into the moment, pulling back only when Charlie stirred.

“Where did you leave them?”

Poe gestured toward the main village, “Just outside the village, on our ship. I could go and get them—“

You shook your head, “I think a walk will do us all good. Let’s get dressed, eh Charlie?” You made a face at the baby, who was sleepily peering up at you, happy with her tummy now full, and she smiled at your expression.

Poe insisted on changing Charlie’s diaper and dressing her, so you merely stood by and watched, handing him her daytime outfit and trying not to laugh too hard as he struggled. You could see the joy in his eyes as he attempted to get her arms through the sleeves, his big hands so incredibly gentle as he worked. It took about twice as long as normal, but eventually, Charlie was ready to go and you took her from Poe, strapping her to your chest with a sarong, watching him as he dressed.

You wanted to ask about the new scars. But you were afraid when you did, it would open up the vault he was currently guarding and all of the terrible stories would come tumbling out. Enjoying this peaceful reunion for a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone, so you resisted the urge and instead popped your head into Kes’s room to let him know where you were going.

“It was hard, not knowing anything,” You admitted quietly as you walked along with Poe, Charlie gazing around happily. The arm draped over your shoulders tightened somewhat at your words. “Leia sure picked a good place for us, though. It’s been quiet, safe.”

You glanced at him, the tension in his jaw confirming something you’d suspected since he’d arrived-after he’d mentioned it was thanks to one of his new friends that he’d been able to find you. Leia was gone, but he didn’t know how to tell you—just as much as you were avoiding asking him for details, he was reluctant to give them.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing,” He replied softly before his eyes lit up. You followed his gaze and saw a large ship, its ramp lowered, come into view just as a familiar orange and white blur was speeding in your direction.

“Buddy!” You yelled, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee to greet BB8, one arm securing Charlie closer to ensure she didn’t get too jostled from your movements. The droid beeped and whirred excitedly and the baby began to giggle, craning her head to look at BB8. “Charlie, this is BB8, wave hi—“ You laughed as Charlie roughly flopped her chubby arm in the direction of the droid.

You could feel Poe’s hand resting lightly on the crown of your hand, and you looked up at him to speak but before you could, another voice chimed in. “Poe, man, you found them!” A handsome man with enviably smooth skin and a friendly grin was walking towards you with a pretty woman who had sad eyes next to him.

Poe helped you to stand back up, his arm securing around you as he led you forward to meet his friends. “Finn—Rey, meet my better half, (y/n), and my kid, Charlie.”

You saw the pair shoot wide-eyed looks at Poe when he said Charlie’s name, and you realized he must have told them about you, about your brother. The thought warmed your heart even further. You reached out and grasped each of their hands in turn, grinning, “It is really lovely to meet you, thank you for getting Poe back to me and Charlie safely.”

Finn smiled warmly, “Hey, he saved our asses as much as we saved his,” Poe shoved his arm playfully, laughing. Rey was quiet, you noticed, gazing at the baby thoughtfully. You wondered who she had lost.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and Rey met your eyes in surprise, though after a brief pause she smiled nervously and nodded. Her smile lit up her whole face, and you were glad you thought to offer the baby as a way to pull it from her—babies had a way of making the sad a little less daunting.

You lifted Charlie out of the sarong, “Say hi to Auntie Rey, Charlie!” Charlie began to babble incoherently in that cheerful baby talk as she settled against Rey’s hip. She watched her, smiling to herself, before glancing between you and Poe.

“She’s beautiful,” Rey’s hand caught one of Charlie’s, squeezing gently, “Takes after her mama, clearly.” She tacked on, throwing Poe a look that made you laugh out loud.

Finn, you noticed, was watching Rey hold the baby with a quiet expression of adoration that made you smile inwardly. He caught you staring and grinned cheekily. As he began to chide Poe teasingly, a sudden memory came to mind, of the last time you had spoken to your father.

“Just remember, family always comes first—but we can make our own family, sweetie,” Dad squeezed your hand, “Family is what we make it, big or small, blood-related or not. So you make sure to surround yourself with good people, people you love and trust, and you’ll always have a family.”

And as you stood there, gazing at your new friends, the people who had ensured your Poe had come back to you, you realized that you were only adding to your family today. You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire galaxy, your heart was bursting with joy and hope for everything still to come.

Poe pressed a kiss to your temple, and you shot him a smile, knowing he felt it too.

Here, you thought, was where the next chapter of your life began. And you couldn’t be more excited.

A/N—THANK YOU for reading this story, for enjoying this journey with me and loving my characters so much. I’m hopeful you loved this final chapter and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. And of course, we still have the epilogue coming!🤍

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @asaucecoveredsomething @ladydmalfoy

#Night changes series #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fluff #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #rey star wars #finn x poe #poe and bb8 #oscar Isaac

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megumi-stan · 3 years

Text

| Black Skies | 黒い空 |

Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

TW: Major Character death, graphic depiction of Injuries and gore!

Black. That was all there was.

Black dots swarm your vision, and black strands of hair slipping through your fingers invaded your brain. Megumi’s black jacket sprawled on the floor, and his black sheets clenched by your hands were only a flash in your head, but it didn’t fail to bring you comfort underneath the black sky.

His parting words still teased your ears.

“Don’t die, if you do, i’ll never forgive you...”

You could only beg for his forgiveness as you laid broken on the cold floor, the stench of blood and decay entering your nose and burning your throat, You knew it was a bad idea to follow the curse alone; you were well aware that it was far more powerful than what you were capable of handling, but still you were stubborn and refused to appear weak in front of your lover.

You remembered how Megumi hesitated before running in the direction of Itadori, who was in trouble, and you knew a fist was likely closing around his heart the moment his back turned to you and your footsteps faded away. Megumi trusted you with all his heart, and he had no doubts you would return to him. He probably reminded himself how capable you were a dozen times in his head only to set his resolve.

You wanted to laugh, a bitter sound that got stuck in your tongue before breaking free. You weren’t the great thing he thought you were, after all. The wheeze of air hurt, pushing blood out of the gash across your neck, and your limbs went numb. You could no longer feel anything besides the dizziness in your head.

If only you could see his face for the last time, but your eyes had shut off completely as your heavy lids fell. Your heart ached one last time for all the things you would never witness. Gojo’s sensei revolution, shopping with Nobara through Tokyo and having dancing parties with Itadori. But all those faded into nothing when you thought of Megumi growing up and having a life without you in it.

He would never take you on late night dates in the woods, or slip into your room at night to watch a bad horror film while cuddled up in your bed. You would never take another picture of him while he was distracted, and his hands would never fit in yours anymore...

They were right.... Sorcerers rarely died without regrets, but instead of regretting enrolling in Jujutsu High, your only regret was not being able to say goodbye to the boy with bright green eyes and gentle touch that held you tenderly at night chasing the darkness away.

Cursing one last time your bad luck, you drifted off into nothingness, hoping that, wherever you were headed next, you could at least watch Fushiguro Megumi from afar, silently cheering him on as he continued to live his life.

Megumi knew something wasn’t right at the exact moment a sharp pain stabbed his heart. Shaking it off was not an option, since the unease crept across his skin like oily tendrils, leaving his heart stammering and his fingers shaking.

His shikigami, Nue was battling the special level curse, while Megumi’s body served as a shield to guard Yuji’s fallen form. He reminded himself to breath in and out slowly, to prevent premature tiring but his breathing stopped when he noticed how the faint battling noises in the distance stopped.

Thinking that you had succeeded, He took a deep breath and waited, but when he never spotted you figure running to help him out, panic made him his prisoner.

“Fuck!” The curse slipped past his lips, born out of a desperation out of character for him. Where the hell was Gojo sensei when he needed it?

Strong emotions can boost one’s level of cursed energy, but he knew better than to waste it, so he focused on summoning Orochi to finish things off quickly. His focus was broken the moment he started worrying about you, so the fight prolonged for what seemed like an eternity. Minutes went by, where he could only hear the screeches of both spirits battling until with one last clean bite from the great serpent, the curse was exorcised.

Without thinking, he just flung Itadori’s knocked out body over his shoulder and ran, his feet moving so fast he could barely feel the ground beneath them. He ran through the deserted street and as he got closer to where you had ran off to, the metallic smell lingering in the air like a macabre blanket made his stomach drop.

Megumi’s heart was beating hard in his chest, drowning out the sound of his breaths as he sped up, his whole body ached but it was nothing compared to the ache he felt in his soul the moment he spotted the trail of blood and the curse lurking above you. He dropped Itadori to the floor without a second thought and summoned his divine dog, who jumped at the curse’s back with a feral glint into his eyes. He knew his dog liked you, specially since you always seemed to pet him the right way. The vicious canine was protective of you, and that made Megumi him realise how much of his life revolved around you.

Training, dates, laughs, missions… You were always there.

Right at that moment, he couldn’t care about his own safety or Itadori’s, as he left his side and approached you. The cries of pain and the snarls falling on def ears.

There you were, your uniform torn and burned in some places, your skin bruised and stained with red, your whole neck invisible under the stream of crimson that disappeared under your collar.

And your chest wasn’t moving.

Fushiguro fell to his knees as his hands found your face, cradling it tenderly. His fingers shook and his eyes stung. You were not breathing, and he couldn’t ether.

“(y/n)?” He croaked, barely above a hush whispered, voice shaking, strangled by the knot in his larynx. “C’mon baby... Open your eyes.” he pleaded, shaking you slightly.

Your cold skin froze his soul, and he placed you on his lap. The small light of hope died when he pushed his ear to your chest, willing your comforting heart beat to meet him like it did all the nights he slept using you as a pillow, but the relief never came.

Silence was the only answer he got.

A torn scream burned his throat, but he could barely listen to it with the sound of his soul being shattered. Ugly tears rolled down and turned your skin wet as he held you close, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and pretending that everything was fine, and this was just like when he hid from the jump scares when watching horror films with you.

He cried out again, because no matter how hard he tried, the icy fingers of death held him down, burying his hopes and dreams to the ground, and stunning him. As if he had received a fatal would. Megumi wondered if he would survive too, since it felt like his heart had stopped completely in his chest.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him to lower you slightly so he could see who it was.

Itadori stood there, his hands stained with blood and the curse behind them gone. His divine dog sat by his side, ears flat on his head and sorrow written all over his eyes.

Megumi couldn’t utter a word. He had promised himself he would save those he chose, those who were good and deserved to be saved. He knew there was no one more deserving of salvation than you.

Megumi had failed.

He turned to look down at you once again and his dog came forward. Whining and nudging your limp hand with his snout, urging you to pet him like you always would after he helped on missions, but you would never have the chance to do so again.

A loud howl filled the solemn silence in that moment, where the two boys mourned the death of a dear friend and lover. Their souls tainted black just like the sky above their heads.

A/N: First time writing for Megumi! ever since i casted my eyes upon him i’ve been doomed... guys with daddy issues are my type apparently, judging by my massive crush on Todoroki Shouto...

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

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yoonsshadow · 4 years

Text

ETERNAL - i

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; murder, death, violence, blood, guns, burnt bodies, nudity [nonsexual], nightmares, drugs? [sleeping pills], a bunch of boys being in love

➳ word count ; 4.8k

➳ note ; I watched The Old Guard on Netflix [a serious recommend if you haven’t already seen it] and got hit with major inspiration. Nothing better than found-family and immortal soulmates. I put of a lot of time, effort and love into this, so please treat it with delicate hands. And please, please, give me feedback if you like it. Thank you, and enjoy :)

They have done this before, enough times—too many times—to be familiar with the routine.

The nightmares, all too vivid and yet frustratingly vague, of blood and pain and death. Glimpses of a face they have never seen, memories that do not belong to them. The lingering thoughts of why another, why now, why at all?

They have done this many times, and yet it never gets easier, never makes sense.

⎯⎯⎯

When they submit to the clutches of slumber, it is beneath the glowing moonlight that shines through the broken ceiling of an abandoned church. Overgrown with vines that hold the crumbling walls together and hidden behind bushes and weeds and shadows, this building will be safe, for them. For now. It may not provide much warmth, or much shelter, but it gives them a sense of anonymity that they so desperately depend on. Right now, it hides them from the world. They are nothing but each other’s, so long as they are here.

Usually, sleep brings peace. Long ago did they learn how to banish demons from their dreams, memories of pasts both true and terrible, and so through sleep they find temporary solace from the demands of their long lives. They hold each other in their warm arms, forget about their worries if only for a brief moment. They are but seven men, seven soulmates, seven loves, existing together without burden.

Until tonight.

It is familiar, the weight that descends upon their chests, pushes against their rib cages. An invisible force both squeezing them and pulling them apart, flooding them with vague images, sounds, feelings. In sleep, they hold each other tighter, safer, but they cannot escape the myriad of memories and thoughts that fill their minds.

A pair of eyes, so brown that they are pure, so dark that they are nearly black, blink at them as sweat begins to shine upon their skin. These eyes are young, but they hold wisdom, maturity, that can only come with death. Witnessing it, causing it, experiencing it. These eyes are filled with desperation in this moment, but also a stubborn determination; they know what is coming, and yet they will continue to fight until their dying breath, as they vowed⎯⎯

⎯⎯a uniform, black, stained with dirt and blood, without any identifying marks. No dog-tags, but a tan line around a soft neck where they would normally hang. Trained muscles behind firm fabric, knowledgeable fingers clutching a military assault rifle. Steel-toed boots, scuffs through the polish, dirt in the seams and drops of red in the laces⎯⎯

⎯⎯heart beating through chest, adrenaline spiking, but something’s wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, how did they know we were coming? Need to get out, need to get to cover, need to save⎯⎯

⎯⎯the enemies found them, caught them, have them, bound and bloodied in a dark cave or dungeon, they can’t tell. Chains rattle against stone where bodies shift for comfort, but no comfort can be found for bleeding wounds, broken bones, bruised skin. Eyes connect, know they’re saying goodbye, can’t speak but wish they could say something, apologise, curse, plead, pray. By the time footsteps stomp their way in, handgun cocked and aimed at their foreheads, they have already accepted that⎯⎯

Gasps echo in the silence as seven bodies jerk awake, trembling and sweating and aching with pains that another is experiencing. Their minds are still clouded, submerged within their dreams, but they know this routine. They know what they have just seen.

Hands scramble beneath their makeshift bedding as they reach for their journals, their pens, and begin to scribble whatever details they can remember ⎯ eyes, blood, pain, death. They’ve all clung to different images, and they desperately remember everything they can before it washes away with their wakeful clarity.

“I saw, um, eyes,” chokes the youngest, his pencil already sketching the eyelashes with careful precision. “Brown, dark. Looked like a girl’s.”

“She had to be military,” says another. “Maybe special forces? No insignia on the uniform and dog-tags were taken off. Black-ops?”

“I saw a glimpse of a scar on her hand. Might help to identify her.”

“There were others, too; a team. I have a feeling she was the leader.”

“It was a rescue operation, but I don’t think they succeeded. The enemies saw them coming. She was confused as to how.”

“Did you see the gun she was shot with? That’s military grade. It was either supplied by somebody on the force, or they were the force.”

“God, I have a headache.” Seokjin rubs his temples, a pain lingering behind his eyes but never ceding. “Never thought after three-hundred years that we’d get another one.”

Arms curl around him, a sigh breathed into his neck. “Me too, hyung.” Jeongguk nuzzles closer, finds comfort in the warmth of his lover’s broad shoulders. “I feel sorry for her. Now she’s going to have to deal with this too.”

“Hey, what did I say about pessimism?” Namjoon’s pointed look is directed towards the youngest, but the words are for everybody to hear. A reminder. “Our lives may be long, and hard, and difficult to deal with at times. But we have the opportunity to help people, to affect change, and, most importantly,” his eyes soften, “to have each other.”

“Wah, hyung’s going soft on us,” Taehyung grins, leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Behind him, Jimin clings around his torso like a koala. “Yeah, those are big words for somebody who so often tells us how insufferable we are,” he agrees.

Sitting up, Yoongi joins the conversation with a voice still deep with sleep. “That’s because you are insufferable. But that doesn’t mean that hyungs love you any less. Eternal life would be extremely dull if we didn’t have you annoying us constantly.”

Taehyung and Jimin smile at each other, eyes glittering with something devious, and something close to love. “You all just bore witness to that,” Jimin says, pointing at Yoongi. “You all heard him say that, so you can’t yell at us for being annoying ever again!”

“Free pass!” Taehyung agrees.

Hoseok, still lounging his head in Yoongi’s lap, rolls his eyes. “Yoongi-hyung said it, but none of us did, so we can, and will, still yell at you.”

The two pout, but question it no further. They could spend centuries arguing over petty things⎯have, regrettably⎯but they’d much rather get along. For now, forever.

“Hyungs,” a small voice whispers into the silent air, drawing attention to where the maknae still hugs into Seokjin’s back. He’s pouting, and they want to coo at him, but his next words break them out of their reverie of adoration. “What about the girl?”

Your ears are ringing when you finally wake, images of your nightmares still clinging to your mind, so vivid, so real. They were filled with pain, and fear, and the bloodied faces of your soldiers as they were shot one after the other. You remember screaming for them, pleading, hoping against hope that they’d listen. But, instead, you had watched them die.

You hope that you didn’t scream aloud, didn’t wake your team. They deserve the rest, even if you couldn’t have it.

Muscles stiff and aching from a restless slumber, you shift in your cot, move to adjust the blanket. But your cot is harder than you’d like, your blanket out of reach. In fact, you can’t move your arms at all.

When your heavy eyelids finally open, you realise why your dreams had felt so real.

The stench of blood and death is so thick in the air that you can taste it, that bitter tang against your tongue bringing bile up to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t just sore, it’s screaming; it’s as though you can feel your muscles re-knitting together after being torn apart. And maybe it’s panic that crushes against your lungs, constricting your airways, or maybe it’s grief.

Because as soon as your eyes land on the dead bodies of your teammates, you can’t breathe.

Your throat is so sore from screaming and crying that the sounds escaping it are torn and scratchy, but you can’t hold them in. Not when you see your friend’s brain splattered over the wall behind her; not when you see your second-in-command holding her hands together, mid-prayer when the shot was fired.

You sob, and yell, and cry out until your throat is raw, and then when you have no voice left, you continue. You may not be dead yet⎯and for what reason, you don’t want to know⎯but you don’t think that you’ll ever truly live after this. How does one move on from their friends, their family, being slaughtered before their very eyes? How does one process the fact that they were left behind?

Through the crushing weight on your chest and the searing pain in your throat, you hear footsteps approaching. The heavy boots do nothing to hide their owner’s steps, impatient and strong, but you can’t find it within yourself to be afraid. The worst thing they can do is torture you some more, maybe even kill you, but you’d welcome death at this stage; you’d welcome reprieve from the sorrow that threatens to swallow you whole.

It’s a man, unsurprisingly, who walks through the mouth of the dark cave, ugly face covered by a mask pulled up to his eyes. He looks at you, something in his half-hidden expression that you don’t have the energy to place, and then says something in a language that you cannot understand.

Heaving a breath and swallowing blood, you meet his sharp eyes. “I don��t understand you.” Your words scratch their way out, hardly discernible, so you try again. “I won’t tell you anything, so just kill me and get it over with.”

This time he shouts, still angry but this time not at you, though he never tears his gaze off your crumpled figure. Like if he blinks, you may disappear.

Once again, hurried and heavy footsteps make their way into the room, a pair of men joining their comrade. These ones are holding guns. You can’t find it within yourself to flinch.

More foreign words are thrown at you, some that seem like questions, but your mind is too rattled, head too sore, to even try to comprehend what they might want from you. Your shoulders ache from where your arms are secured behind you, and your legs ache from hours⎯maybe days?⎯of disuse. So you sigh, level what you hope is a glare towards the two newcomers, and repeat, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Looks exchanged between them, hesitation, and then, “You should be dead. Why are you not dead?”

In a moment of weighted silence, you try to determine if they’re serious. Because surely they aren’t asking you how you are alive while being held captive by them. But they don’t elaborate, so you’re left with an even greater migraine than before. “Are you fucking serious?”

The expletive makes them simultaneously point their rifles at you, and this time, you do stiffen. You may be feeling slightly suicidal right now, but you also have reflexes.

“I don’t know why I’m alive.” The admission is spat from between your teeth, reluctant and bitter. “Why don’t you ask whoever it was that killed the rest of my team?”

“I killed your team,” one of them says. The first one. Without a gun, obviously having thought there would be no threat in entering this dungeon. “I killed you, too, shot you in the head myself. So tell me again. Why are you alive?”

“Maybe you’re a bad shot,” you reply. “How am I to fucking know why you let me live? Now do me a favour, will you? Either let me go or shoot me for real this time.”

You don’t have time to register the sound of the gunshot before the bullet goes through your forehead.

“Anything?”

A sigh is the only response that Namjoon receives.

“Alright,” he continues, “what do we know for sure about her?”

“Honestly, hyung?” Jimin looks up from the laptop he’s perched at. “I don’t think we even truly know if it’s a woman. We saw her⎯their⎯eyes, but not much else. Like, sure, we think it’s a woman, we’re pretty sure of it, but nothing’s certain. The visions were really vague this time around.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi agrees, never looking up from the screen of his own computer. “I’ve been searching the military databases, but it’s hard to pinpoint covert operations that don’t technically exist. We didn’t get a dog tag number, or an insignia, or even an idea of which country’s military she’s in. I hate to say it, but we might just need to wait until tonight. Get some more pieces of the puzzle.”

This is what Namjoon was afraid of, not that he was expecting anything else. His boys are good, but even they can’t work miracles.

“I feel sorry for her,” Jeongguk hums, cheek pressed into the couch cushion where he’s taken a rest from research. Not that he ever really started; that was always his hyungs’ strong points. “I mean, she’s all alone right now, probably really confused, really scared. I know I was before you all found me.”

That sentence strains their hearts, makes them pause. Jeongguk had been alone for nearly a decade before they had finally found him, lonely and of unsound mind, unaware of the curse he’d been unwillingly given. They’d spent years helping him heal, helping him accept, and now they can proudly say that he is stable and content. Happy, even, sometimes.

You, however. You are in the exact same place that he was. Maybe worse, they don’t know.

Taking slow steps towards the couch, Hoseok gently lifts Jeongguk’s legs to place them on his lap when he sits. He feels the strong calf muscles beneath his fingers as he strokes the uncovered skin, bare only for their eyes, until the young one has relaxed his worried muscles.

“I know it’s hard, Jeongguk-ie,” Hoseok says, voice just above a whisper, soft and yet sure. “I know that we all want to find her as soon as possible, but we can’t just yet. Hopefully the next dream will give us more, but until then, we just have to stay focused. Let’s not get lost in that mental spiral, okay?”

Jeongguk hums, not fully sated with the answer but understanding nonetheless. “M’kay, hyung.”

The comfortable silence in the room following their conversation doesn’t even stretch five minutes before a figure slams into the building, flourishing his arms and announcing his arrival enthusiastically.

“We’re back, bitches!”

Seokjin follows behind Taehyung, closing the church doors after the younger had slammed them open and looking exhausted. “Taehyung chatted with the cashier for half an hour before he even asked for help. We could have been back hours ago.”

“Hey.” Taehyung directs a look at the oldest. “Her outfit coordination was unlike anything I’ve seen this century. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s as old as Hoseok-ie hyung!”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, who is smiling despite himself.

“Definitely a compliment. I’ll admit, she reminded me of that one fashion mogul we knew in Paris. The one...Jimin, you know the one I’m talking about. Red hair, lazy eye?”

“It wasn’t a lazy eye, hyung,” Jimin corrects, “she was just keeping an eye out in all directions.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Seokjin says, “none of that matters. We got the stuff. Took a while, but we got it.”

Taehyung empties his plastic shopping bag onto a wiped-down old table, cardboard boxes falling onto the surface. “I’ve got to say, modern medicine is pretty ground-breaking. I wish we were smart enough to have invented it earlier.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Yoongi asks, sounding a lot less interested than he actually is. “I wouldn’t think that sleeping pills would affect us.”

At this, Namjoon bites his lip. “Usually, I’d agree with you, but I’ve been doing some thinking. If the pills aren’t hurting us, our bodies shouldn’t heal too quickly; they should still have time to take effect. Just like how we can get drunk but not have liver issues, or smoke but not get cancer.”

“But smoking’s still gross,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“So,” Hoseok ponders aloud, “if we take the pills, it should prolong our sleep so that we can lengthen the dream? Do you think it’ll work?”

“We’ve never been able to test it,” Namjoon shrugs. “The worst thing that could happen is our body processes it quicker than it works, and we have a normal night’s sleep with normal visions. It’s worth a shot.”

“I think a few of us should not take the pills,” Seokjin says. “That way, if the pills really do work, some of us can still wake up normally in case of an emergency.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Okay. We’ll rock-paper-scissors it tonight. Until then, let’s rest.”

The second time you wake up, you are significantly less disorientated. You know where you are, what has happened and, most importantly, that you should definitely be dead.

You’d seen the gun, heard the click, felt the bullet spilt through your skull. You know what a killing shot is, have dealt a few yourself, so you know that you should not be opening your eyes to an intense headache right now.

An acrid odour drifts through your dazed thoughts, a stench so strong, so unpleasant, that bile immediately rises and spills from your mouth. You don’t have much to vomit, so you spit mostly water and stomach acid onto the ground beneath you as you wretch from your aching throat.

No, not the ground. Something far worse.

When the tears from your eyes clear away and you look to the ground, you see what is digging into your skin, jabbing at your muscles; you aren’t sure why, or how, but you are lain across a pile of bones and scraps of cloth, sizzling flesh still warm to the touch and sticking to you in chunks. You are atop a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and soaked to the bone with the reeking smell of charred flesh.

Your stomach is empty, and so you can only scramble from the pile and retch.

For several minutes, all you can do is allow your body’s attempt to empty itself on the ground. Even more so than before, your mind is overwhelmed with thoughts and questions and worries, most of which lead to the fact that you are lying naked in the middle of a desert, next to a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and somehow alive.

You are at least thankful that you are already lying on the ground when you faint.

There are seven pairs of eyes⎯brown, warm⎯that look at you, look at each other. Words remain unspoken, for the pupils reveal every thought, every emotion. I care for you deeply, they say, now and forever. The words are not meant for you, not yet, but they feel familiar. As if you have heard them in every past life⎯

⎯Surrounded by trees, a sight which would usually calm you but now only acts as a hindrance, you run through the familiar forest without grace. Bare feet bleed trails of red through the undergrowth, sore arms never dropping the heavy weapons that slow you down so. You should not be alone, never usually are, but now you are accompanied only by your panic and the wolves that chase you. These ones, however, do not howl or gnash their feral jaws; they calculate, the way only a human can⎯

⎯Metal hangs heavy around your lithe neck, skin raw and bleeding beneath its unrelenting grip. Fingers grab into your filthy hair, knotting into your bun. Worthless piece of filth, growls a man. You are not unfamiliar with his tone, nor his insults, though this is the first time you have felt a glob of saliva being spat onto your cheek. Can’t even follow the basic rules. Somebody really ought to make an example of you⎯

⎯This room is bright, brighter than the last, and yet somehow glooms darker than all. Shadows hang heavy in the corner where invasive eyes hide, but you can look only to the man who sits in front of you, posture relaxed despite the tensity that thickens the air. Go on, he taunts as you are shoved to your knees, the pain nothing compared to the fear that fills you at the sight of the executioner’s sword. Show us that smile of yours. Grant the world one more. Grant him, he nods towards another figure who you refuse to meet gazes with, one last dazzling grin. You do not, but you do whisper an apology under your breath, one that will never be heard⎯

⎯Gold silk hangs from your broad shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully down your tall body. Each detail stitched into the delicate robe sparkles in the candlelight, patterns that tell stories of love and power and beauty. Jeonha, somebody says to you, a face that is hidden from your view. I am sorry for this, Jeonha. Gold silk soon turns crimson when the knife plunges into your back. You are not even allowed the courtesy of looking into your killer’s eyes⎯

⎯You had always thought that you would live longer, survive the odds set against you, but you know now, as your mother tends to the gash carved into your chest, that this time, luck is not your benefactor. It is not so bad, she assures, though you know the look in her eyes, see the light in them dimmed with grief of a life not yet lost. You wish to tell her everything, anything, but the words bubble up in your throat and you struggle to spit them out. She knows, though, you can see that she knows, and her calming hand rests over your heart, which beats slower and slower with each moment. I love you, my sun, my son. Rest well. Her hand grows cold, or maybe that is you. For you no longer feel, no longer worry, only close your eyes and fall⎯

⎯Urgency pumps your blood faster, the sound echoing in your ears, as your weeping eyes search around you. Nothing, not the chaos around you nor the wound in your shoulder, can stop your wobbly legs from moving, not when you have to find him. There you are, comes his voice from behind you, and you turn so quickly that you become dizzy. But he is there, wounded yet alive, and he is offering you a smile that you struggle to return. You fall into his arms, he into yours, hold each other with all the strength that you have. And when an arrow pierces through your heart, spearing through his chest, you are connected even when you fall, lifeless⎯

This time, you wake with a gasp and a speeding heart, images so vivid still lingering in your mind. Your chest is still sore where your heart lies, the organ heavy with another’s grief, and you are surprised to find yourself covered in your own tears.

Still in the dirt, still nude, still alive, and still confused, you know that the only way to survive is to keep moving. Memories of dreams that had felt so real may plague your mind for a while, but you cannot dwell. You have had nightmares before, strange and also plausible ones, and you know. You know that to submit to the darkness of your own mind is a death sentence in itself. So you stand up, dust off your bare skin, and begin walking in an unknown direction.

You only cast one glance back at the bodies behind you. Your team, in all probability. Your friends. You are leaving them in the middle of nowhere.

This, too, you do not allow yourself to dwell on. Not now. Not yet.

Though the night has long since begun, darkness creeping into every corner of the room, one figure lies awake, thinking. Listening.

He is selfish, he supposes, for choosing not to sleep in a time when it can be so important. He should be allowing the visions to greet him, remembering the details, soaking it all in. Instead, he blinks away his exhaustion in exchange for wandering thoughts. He is not ready to allow another’s memories into his mind; for his to enter their’s. He has unwillingly revealed his sins to far too many already.

Hoseok is afraid. And he is tired.

Around him, his six loves breathe deeply, bodies relaxed in slumber and minds lost to the visions of their eighth soul. Some stir, occasionally, and he is sure he’s heard one of the maknaes whimper, but all is otherwise silent.

He would die a million painful deaths just to ensure that they could maintain this peace forever. He supposes he has, already. But he doesn’t regret it. Not for them.

Though the silence is calming, it also beckons his eyes closed and his mind into darkness. So, in an attempt to battle the tantalising call of sleep, he rolls over, stands up, and quietly sneaks out of the crumbling building they’ve taken shelter in.

The air outside nips at his skin, prickling goosebumps down his back and arms, but it is always chilly at this time of year, in this part of Europe. He forgets which country they’re in. Possibly close to France, but likely somewhere in Italy. He can smell salt in the air, the ocean not far away.

Yes. Italy.

Through thick undergrowth and overgrown weeds he wanders, mind idle and busy all at once. His feet take him around the perimeter of the area⎯a consequence, he supposes, of living a paranoid life⎯but his thoughts are elsewhere. On a girl he has yet to meet. On you.

How will you react, he wonders, to this life? To them? Through the brief flashes he has seen of you, you are a woman who seems steadfast, capable, and determined. But he’d also seen your team; felt the love you hold for them. Will you be able to part from the life that you can no longer lead? Will you eventually accept them as your new family?

There are too many questions, too many things to worry about. This is why he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching him from behind until two arms wrap around his shoulders.

“You should be asleep.” The words are whispered beside his ear, warm breath fanning down his neck. He shivers, but doesn’t respond. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

Hoseok sags into the strong embrace, allows the arms to tighten around his chest, and sighs. “I’m worried, Namjoon.” Namjoon hums, doesn’t say anything. “Is it selfish of me to not want to see her memories? To not want her in my head?”

A pair of plump lips kiss the tip of his ear. “Perhaps,” Namjoon says. When Hoseok stiffens, he pulls him closer. “But being selfish is not necessarily a bad thing. You are allowed to prioritise yourself every once in a while.” Namjoon can sense that Hoseok is not yet appeased, so he adds, “There are six of us here to take the visions when you can’t. And if you do decide to rest, there will be six of us here to hold you through it. Being selfish does not mean that you are alone.”

“I’m so tired,” Hoseok whispers, and they both know that he is not referring to his lack of sleep. “We’ve all got such baggage, so much hurt, and I wonder if adding the weight of an eighth will be too much.”

“Hey.” Namjoon gently turns Hoseok in his arms, holding him close still. They look into each other’s eyes, see everything that they have grown familiar with. That they have grown to love. “We will also have another person to help share the load. For now and forever, we are in this together. It’s okay to have doubts, or worries, but never forget that you are ours and we are yours.”

Foreheads touch and eyes close, the silence of the night engulfing them as they share each other’s heat. And here, they are okay. They still have fears, still have troubling thoughts, but they are not so bad when they are together.

“C’mon,” Namjoon mumbles. “Let’s go back inside. Whether you decide to sleep or not, we should stay with the others. You know how they can get about cuddle piles.”

This does make Hoseok breathe a laugh. “Okay. And hey, Namjoon.” He presses their lips together in a brief, soft kiss. “Thank you, my love.”

“My eternal,” Namjoon replies.

That night, they both allow sleep to take them. They join the others in dreams of bloodshed, heartache, and death. And they hold each other a little closer. And they are okay.

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marsbutterfly · 3 years

Note

Hey ! Can I request something ? It's an Hanji x reader imagine. This would take place after the chapter 132, you saved Hanji in extremis, brings her back safe and sound on the plane, the alliance wins the war against Eren and right after that they all come back to the Paradis Island. Hanji and her wife are lying on a field and reader think about all the events. They're finaly free, happy and living together 😌! I really like your writtings and especially the way you depicted Hanji ! Stay safe !

Note: Hell Yes. I actually wrote two versions for this story but this is the one I liked best, so I really hope you like it. It hurt me greatly to write this, but I poured my heart and soul into it.

WARNING: MANGA SPOILER!

Daydream

Summary: In which you save Hanji before she has the chance to go ahead with her suicidal charge.

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

As Jean drags your body into the aircraft, you feel your throat burning from all the screaming. The pain in your lungs is unbearable but not enough to stop you.

For a split second, he loses his grip on your body and you are able to escape.

Using your gear, you find yourself taking down a colossal titan standing next to Hanji.

“Y/N??” She looks at you, fear in her eyes. Rage takes over your body as you slice the nape of yet another titan.

“How DARE you leave me!” You say before grabbing Hanji’s cloak. As you tighten your grip, the hook of your gear hits the aircraft just barely taking flight.

As she tries to struggle, you throw her body into the moving vehicle as you follow closely behind.

All eyes on you as you lay on your back, trying your best to catch your breath.

“Hanji! Y/N!” You hear Pieck’s voice echoing through the ship as you silently sit up on your elbows. Once you can get your lung movements under control you look over at Hanji, who’s sitting against the wall.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?” You yell at her. Rage and sorrow clouding your mind, all you can do is let your feelings out in the most aggressive way you can possibly think of.

From her hands to her face, you notice burns and scratches covering her skin. Hanji doesn’t move. All she can do is stare at the ceiling quietly, warm tears running down her face.

Armin extends his hand, helping you get back on your feet. No one says a word as you make your way towards Hanji.

You kneel by her side, watching as she covers her eyes with her arm.

“I just wanted to protect everyone.” She whispers, hiccups erupting from her body.

You gently place your hand on her arm, slowly moving it out of the way so she can look at you. “And leave me behind?”

“Leave you alive.” Hanji finally looks in your eyes, you see the amount of pain she’s in.

“I would rather die with you…” You say, moving her glasses so you can treat her injuries. “Then to live without you.”

As Reiner hands you a small bowl of water, you take out a small piece of cloth that rests in your pocket to clean her burns, making sure no debris is left on her open wounds.

Hanji’s face writhes onto a pained expression. She bites down her lower lip and allows a few pain filled tears. As soon as you’re done, you wrap her wounds in the best way you can and finally, you decide to break the silence.

“I don’t care if you are the Commander or a cadet” You make sure she’s looking into your eyes before finishing your sentence, an unusually serious expression takes over your features, “Don’t you dare try to leave me again.”

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise.” She tries to smile at you, but among the tears, a smile simply won’t appear on her lips. Instead, she flashes you a pained smirk as her bottom lip quivers.

Slowly, you start brushing your lips against hers, wanting nothing more but to feel her breath against your mouth. She pulls you close, destroying any space existing between you. Her breathing against your lips is all you wished for.

“Oi, can you two focus?.” Levi says, destroying the sweet moment between you two. Without turning your head, you flip him off.

“Let’s come up with a plan.” You say, flashing Hanji a sad smile..

“We’re out of fuel” Onyonkapon screams, “I’ll crash land this plane, but please make sure you win this war!!”

The cold wind hits your face as you stand above Eren’s massive body. You hear Armin screaming his name and the others follow close behind.

Pieck and Reiner jump a few seconds after the others, giving them enough time and space to transform.

You feel your hands shaking slightly, fear going through your veins as you take a deep breath. Before you can jump, you feel Hanji’s hand wrapping around yours.

“Together?” She says, a serious but soothing expression on her face.

“Together.” You reply. You both nod and jump off the plane, praying the pilot would be ok.

As you land on top of one of the ribs, you notice the Beast Titan has appeared out of nowhere, but something was off about it.

Not only was it connected to Eren but Its fur was white, looking almost exactly as the War Hammer titan.

You look at Hanji for a moment and you see the excitement in her face as she watches Reiner’s fight. Shaking your head, you pull her closer to the now decomposing corpse of the Beast Titan.

“No wonder he’s not putting up a fight.” Levi says, grinding his teeth, his body filled with rage.

“But how is this possible?” Hanji asks while looking at you seconds before dozens of other titans appeared. Empty eyes stare at you while they prepare to attack.

As you look around, trying to figure out where all the titans came from, you can see a small girl from the corner of your eye as she stands on Eren’s massive body, not too far away from you.

“The Founder.” You whisper as goosebumps travel through your body. Your eyes widen when a weird-looking titan comes at you, ready to swap you away.

In a second, Armin takes your place. As he pushes you, the hook of your gear gets stuck to another titan.

“ARMIN!” You scream before slicing the monster in front of you, trying to catch up to the blonde boy but your effort is useless.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Hanji asks before placing her hands around your hips. You nod but even though your legs shake slightly but you know you can’t afford to stop fighting.

“Everyone calm down!” Levi says, you can barely hear his voice with all the noises around you. “We are in no condition to make a charge here.”

“Captain Levi.” Pieck says, her titan clinging onto one of Eren’s bones. “These enemies… they are the nine titans of times past.”

Before you can have a reaction, you feel a large hand squeezing the air out of your entire body until your vision turns black.

By the time you wake up, you can’t hear or feel the massive titans flattening everything in their path. Deafening screams no longer fill the air around you.

You watch the blue sky above you as you sit up. On your left lies a very injured Captain Levi. Part of his leg was bitten off and his hand bandages are covered in dried blood.

You crawl to him, gently touching his chest. You place two fingers against his jugular and feel his heart beating approximately 50 times a minute. A bit too slow, but at least he is still alive.

A figure comes towards you from your right. You shift your face, trying to see the person’s face against the sun. Her body comes crashing against yours in a tight hug. As the smell of her hair hits your nose, you wrap your arms around her neck.

“I’m so glad you are alright!” Hanji says, a few tears streaming down her face as she touches her forehead to yours.

“What happened?” You ask quietly. In the distance, you can hear Mikasa’s screams, quickly followed by Armin’s sobs. You feel every hair in your body quickly stand up as you start to realize what has happened.

“We found Eren.” Is all she needs to say. A sad expression takes over your features. Deep down, you wished for him to change his mind and find a way back to his old self, but it was nothing more than that, just a wish.

Your eyes scan the scene folding in front of you. Annie has her arms wrapped around Mikasa’s torso, tightly hugging her as the black-haired girl screams the contents of her heart out.

Jean and Reiner tend to Connie’s wounds. A pool of blood forming underneath his head as the other two boys desperately try to stop it.

Armin simply stares at the sea, his hands covering his ears as sobs abruptly leave his body.

Pieck hugs the two kids tightly, making sure they won’t be able to leave her grasp anytime soon. Gabi holds Falco’s hand as both of their small bodies shake in a mix of relief and trauma.

And lastly, your eyes wander towards the lifeless figure lying on the sand. The water hits his foot ever so lightly but enough to cause it to move. The sand trapped in his hair shines in contrast with the sun.

“What happened?” You finally work up the courage to ask. Hanji lets out a sigh, her hand moving from your skin towards her hair, placing a single loose strand behind her own ear.

“After you passed out, Annie flew in to save our asses.” She giggles, looking down before lacing your right hands on hers. “His jaw titan could fly! Can you believe that?”

A spark appears in her eyes amongst all the sadness around you. You flash her a small smirk, “I didn’t even know that was possible!”

“I didn’t either! Isn’t it amazing, though?” She raises her voice before bringing it to a low volume once again. Her features return to seriousness as she continues, “After that, Pieck destroyed the Attack Titan’s neck, forcing Eren’s body out of there.”

As Hanji speaks, you finally notice the smell of blood and smoke surrounding you. Taking your left hand to your heart, you clutch your own shirts, fighting back tears that threaten to fall against your wishes.

“How did he die?” You whisper, looking down at your legs.

“His body never recovered after Gabi shot him.” She takes a small break, trying to find the right words. “The explosion inflicted by Pieck was enough to expel his body..”

Your lips part but no words come out so she simply continues, “He was able to heal enough so he would have parts of his body back before Armin stabbed his heart.”

“The Founder?” You interrupt, suddenly remembering the small girl that watched the whole fight from afar.

“She’s gone. Somehow Eren was able to lock the Founding powers within him before dying.”

Confused, you look at her, hoping she would have any answers for you. “But…”

“We don’t understand how yet…” her voice breaks, a mixture of pain and happiness, “but all the titans are gone.”

A gasp escapes your body. Thoughts rush through your head at light’s speed but all you can do is shove your head on the crook of her neck as you cry.

Clinging onto Hanji’s now soaked shirt, you try to breathe but air simply won’t enter your lungs. Was it pain for the loss of someone you cared about and loved deeply? Was it relief for how the monsters that have threatened you through your entire life have now disappeared?

You look up at Hanji, her hair floating in the wind as her hand rubs your back in a soothing manner. You place your left hand on the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. Tears drip from your eyes onto your lips but you can’t find the strength to pull away.

As her lips leave yours, a quiet whine escapes your throat.

Once again, you focus your attention on Eren’s body. “What happens now?”

Sitting in a blanket, you watch as the breeze moves the newly bloomed flowers around. The sun setting behind the mountains casts an orange light above you.

From behind, you hear footsteps making their way towards you. Your lips curl into a smirk and you shift your body, putting all of your weight on your knees.

“You look beautiful.” She says before sitting beside you. You quickly change your focus to her face, taking a few seconds to admire her.

Hanji’s hair is in a messy ponytail, a few strands rest against her cheeks. She’s wearing her daily glasses instead of her old combat ones, and her skin smells like freshly used soap, meaning she finally showered. Whether it was willingly or if Levi forced her to, you don’t dare to ask.

As you adjust your dress, a blush takes over your cheeks and you can help but smile at her.

Wrapping your arm around her neck, you place a quick yet gently kiss on her lips before resting your forehead against hers.

“It’s been a year.” You whisper, your voice barely audible against the wind.

She nods, “A year of freedom.”

As you look up at the sky, you notice a few stars have begun to show up. One in particular catches your eye for it has a greater shine than the rest. Hanji quietly follows your gaze.

“They are watching over us.” She says, taking your hand towards her lips and planting a love-filled kiss on the back.

“I hope they are happy we can finally be free.” You finally find the courage to speak. “Truly, utterly, completely free.”

In a second, you let Hanji go and allow your body to fall, colliding with the grass. The green speckles tickling your skin as the aroma of the flowers hits your nose.

A sneeze escapes your body suddenly and all you can do is laugh, for you are now truly happy.

You feel Hanji’s head on your shoulder and you quickly wrap your arm around her head, quietly playing with her brown locks.

“Thank you for coming after me.” She says. You can feel her eyes piercing you, carefully watching for your reaction. The corner of your lips gently curls into a smile as you roll your eyes at her.

“I will always follow you.” You whisper, making sure no one else will be able to hear you but her, “Even if it gets me killed.”

You simply lay there, watching as the sun goes down behind the mountain. No words are needed but you can feel how calm she is with you.

Looking back on it, you realize your decision to chase after her once she got off the plane was reckless and dangerous to say the least, but if it meant spending your life with Hanji, you would do it again and again.

Your body shivers abruptly, a reminder that the cold breeze is once again taking over the atmosphere. With a smile of her own, she lifts her head up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you ready to head back?” She says, steam coming out of her mouth as the words fall from her lips.

Simply you nod, watching as a giggle leaves her body. Before standing up, you pick a small, pink flower that rests by your hand and place it on her hair.

Planting a kiss on her cheek, you take her hand, starting to make your way towards the city.

Your comrades' sacrifices weren’t in vain. Freedom was finally a reality rather than just a dream.

With Hanji by your side, you can finally appreciate being alive and for now, that’s all you could ask for.

220 notes · View notes