#You have fueled a fire within me that I have long forgotten about & thank you 4 that
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Hey!:) Could you do a Charlie Dalton x male!reader?
Reader is anxious, more than ever, and he's pacing and pacing like there's no tomorrow in his dorm because feels weird about his best friend, Charlie. He doesn't know how to describe it and he's terrified to find out what it is (the lovely boy is bisexual). One day he walks into his dorm, the door being forgotten and wide open and he just begins to slam his head into his desk over and over until he starts to bleed a little bit. Charlie walks in and asks him what's wrong and what's all the noise and reader ends up having a mental breakdown about bow confused he feels about a friend. As they talk, Charlie realizes that reader's crush is him and tells him after one of the meetings in the cave when he realized he felt the same way about reader :)
aaahhhhh yes, i love this!!!!!!!!!
Thank you so much for this request!! I've never written xmale!reader before so pls give me feedback in the comments and let me know if you like it :)
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No Unreturned Love - Charlie Dalton x male!Reader
WC: 1.2k
Warnings: negative self talk, self harm, kissing, charlie begin an angel, shitty whitman references
Charlie’s joke…if you could call it that…came as a dagger to the chest, especially since you were at the brunt of it. The rest of your friends, the entirety of the newly-formed Welton chapter of the Dead Poets Society, howled with laughter and praise in the dining hall, hands clapping you on the back with each wave of entertainment. You, on the other hand, had shrunk into yourself, blood filling your ears and face, making your hearing fade and your skin flush.
“You don’t have to room with him,” Charlie’s voice replayed in your mind, “God knows what he thinks about when he stays up under the covers after lights out”
It was an innocent jab, somewhere deep down you understood that, but rationality only went so far when the source of your discomfort was your roommate, and the boy you had been falling for since the first day of term.
Neil’s laughter subsided as his arm snaked around your shoulders, your eyes refusing to open as you focused your consciousness on subsiding the anxiety bubbling in your throat.
“I gotta go,” you barked out, wiggling from Neil’s grasp and removing yourself from the dinner table, “excuse me.”
“Hey,” Charlie’s taunting voice had turned concerned, “Y/n where you going? It was just a joke man,” he called after you. You paid his words no mind, half because you simply couldn’t hear him, and half because you couldn’t be bothered to stay at that suffocating table any longer.
The walk back to your shared room went by in a flash, anxiety and the need for solitude propelling your legs up the stairs and down the hall. Door insight, the tears threatened to flow, the proximity of seclusion breaking your emotional control.
“Fuck,” your voice trembled as you swung the door open and flopped onto your bed. Your pillow was your support as you cried it out, salty tears darkening the grey fabric until a puddle had formed.
With shaking hands, you pushed yourself up off the mattress and swung yourself into your desk chair, anxiously-chewed fingernails digging into your scalp as you rested your head in your hands.
“Y/n you idiot,” flowed from your lips like a mantra, repeating until you believed your words more than you had ever believed anything before. Words turned into actions, your anger at yourself fueling the fire of self-hate that propelled you to begin tapping your forehead against the wooden desk.
“Stupid” joined the affirmations as tears wet the wood beneath your head, which was now throbbing and tender…how long had you been doing this?
The voices of your classmates and friends coming down the hall were lost within your words, your head continuously contacting the desk with more force each time.
“Woah,” Charlie’s voice sounded like a dream, and you were certain it was, until the sudden slam of the door and the warm contact of his hands on your shoulders broke you from your trance, “Y/n…Y/n,” the repetition of your name became the new mantra in your mind.
He had pulled you away from the desk, his hands now resting on the sides of your face, cradling the weight of your head. He was squatting on the floor in between your legs, your body defeatedly slumped in the desk chair.
“What are you doing?” He chastised you, “you’re hurting yourself, what’s wrong?”
“Charlie,” you groaned, voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m here, you can talk to me,” his thumb wiped the specks of blood from your forehead, his eyes full of pain and wonder.
“I can’t,” you sobbed out, pulling your head out of his hands, “I can’t talk to you about anything”
“Y/n?” He asked, shocked, “what the hell are you talking about?”
“You don’t know,” you whined, delirium taking the reins of your words, “you just don’t know”
“I don’t know what?” Charlie rubbed your knee tenderly, sending chills up your spine, but also sending grief through your body as you mourned what would never be.
“Y/n, I’m your best friend. I’m sorry about the joke at dinner, I didn’t know it was a touchy subject, I really-”
“It’s not about the joke Charlie,” you sighed, your voice audible to him only because of the amount of concentration and attention he was dedicating to you in this moment.
“What’s it about then?” His hands gripped your legs as he rubbed gentle circles with his thumb, his eyes locked on yours to get any sense of what was bothering you.
Your eyes trailed down to his hands, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched him touch you, “nothing,” you whispered, tears gently streaming down your blushing cheeks.
Charlie’s eyes followed yours down to his hands, which immediately stopped moving, instead staying statically gripping your lower thighs. He breathed deeply, your anxiety overwhelming you in his silence. Silently, you were cursing yourself, wondering if he had figured out your feelings. He sighed, his eyes closing as he looked to be trying to remember something.
“Sometimes-” he began, eyes still closed, “sometimes with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse unreturned love,” he opened his eyes, finding yours instantly, “But now I think there is no unreturned love, the pay is certain one way or another”
Your mouth fell open, words failing to come to your tongue, electing instead to stare at him with wide-eyes, praying to every higher power that you had indeed heard him correctly.
“Whitman,” he shrugged, a laugh escaping his lips briefly, “did I get that right?”
“Which part?” you whispered, “the quote or the message within it?”
“I’m hoping both,” he smirked, his thumbs beginning to rub gentle circles on your thigh again.
“Yeah, yeah I think both,” you smiled, your tears drying up and your anxiety fading, “I really think both”
“Okay,” Charlie chuckled, “can I kiss you?”
“Kiss….me?” You stared at him with pure shock, “yes. Please”
And with your permission, Charlie stood up, leaning down to grasp your face with his hands once again, his lips meeting yours in a soft, quick kiss. Months of wondering, wishing, anxiously treading on eggshells in every aspect of your friendship fading away as you took in every sensation of this moment.
He pulled away with a smile, standing up and fixing his hair, “you know I’ve wanted to do that since the first society meeting in the cave?”
“Bullshit,” you laughed, “there’s no way”
“I’m dead serious, how could I lie to you?” He stroked your jaw with his hand, “I had a feeling you felt the same, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You couldn’t have told me before I slammed my head into my desk?” You glanced at the red stain on the wood, then back at Charlie.
“I’ll work on my timing” he winked, walking towards the door, “don’t go anywhere, I’m gonna get some stuff to clean you up.”
Leaving you to throw your head back and breathe the first clear breath you’d had in months, you sighed in relief that you had finally come clean to the boy you loved…and he loved you all the same.
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#dead poets fandom#dead poets society#dead poets fanfic#dps fandom#charlie dalton#charlie dalton x reader#charlie dalton x male!reader#charlie dalton x you#charlie dalton fluff#dead poets society fluff#dps fluff
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Desired Effect
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Pairing: Fili x female reader
Words: 2,718
Warnings: rated E. M/F unprotected intercourse. Fili is a cheeky bastard
Summary: Fili buys you a scandalous dress to wear to an event, and effectively teases you until you can’t take it any more, dragging him home for some fun.
Requested by @lilith15000, I hope this is everything you were hoping for, love! It was a pleasure to write for you, thank you for always supporting my work. Enjoy!
Weaving through the corridors on your way back to your chambers, you took in the decor around you. Tapestries hung from the ceiling, many more than normal, and all the dwarrow around you were bustling about more than usual. You smiled to yourself, excited for the reason for all of this commotion; a party.
It wasn’t going to be anything huge and extravagant, but you always looked forward to an event like this, an excuse to dress up, to have Fili standing proudly beside you the whole night with his arm locked around yours, his attention always focused on you.
Thinking about what gown you would wear as you walked through your chambers to the bathing room to run a bath, something on your bed caught your eye, making you pause and turn to look.
To your surprise, a stunning gown was laid out on the bed before you. Deep red in colour with gold details adorning it, a perfect match to Fili’s red robes he wore often to events such as tonight’s.
The closer you got to it, the more you realized it looked more like a nightgown as opposed to a formal dress. It couldn’t be for tonight, you thought, the material was thin and silky, and surely would reveal every part of you, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Fili must have intended for you to wear it around your chambers, in the comfort of your husband's company alone. You held it up in front of you and turned to look in the mirror. The neckline plunged extremely deep and there were even cut outs along the sides, acting as windows to display your skin.
You placed the dress back on the bed and began to remove your current outfit, curious to see how it would look on your body.
The feel of it against your bare skin made you feel like a Queen as soon as the hem hit the floor, the material floating over your features and accentuating every curve of you.
You tucked your lip in your teeth as you admired your reflection, thinking how Fili would no doubt have this torn off of you in an instant.
“I see you found my gift…” Fili’s voice appeared suddenly, causing you to turn in his direction to see him leaning casually against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he admired you.
“Fili, it’s beautiful! Thank you! I’ll wear it while I get ready for tonight.” You twisted your body back to face the mirror, a smile unable to be erased from your lips due to his sweet gesture.
“No, amralime,” he said with a playful tone, taking a step toward you. “You’ll be wearing it all night.”
You turned to him again, shocked at his statement. Barely stringing the words together, you gawked at him, “There’s no way! It’s hardly containing me!”
Now his hands were on your hips, gliding over your sides where the dress left you exposed and you heard him hum in satisfaction.
Fili gave you that look; the one where his eyes darkened, his eyebrows rose higher on his head and his lips pulled into a sly smirk, the very one that made fire pull deep within you.
“That’s exactly the point. I want everyone to see you. To see that you’re mine. You’re too beautiful to keep hidden.”
“But Fili—” you began to protest but he stopped you, his index finger landing on your lips to stop your words.
“Trust me.”
A sigh left your lungs, and suddenly you didn’t feel the need to argue anymore. Fili removed his finger from your lips and replaced it with his, his tongue demanding entrance to your mouth that you easily allowed. Trust was something you always had with Fili, so why should this be any different? Only it was the mischievous look that lingered on his face that told you he might have something else up his sleeve.
The night had been wonderful so far and it wasn’t near being over. You felt excited and exhilarated, but it wasn’t the party that had you feeling this way.
As usual, Fili couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always clutching your own or wrapping his arm around your waist while in conversation with someone, his heavy hand resting on your thigh when you were at your place at the table. Although this was a normal occurrence for the two of you, everything between you felt more charged than it typically was. It probably had everything to do with the things Fili kept whispering in your ear, or sometimes even out loud, but quiet and subtle enough that only you were able to hear. Those around you were likely thinking you were having nothing other than a warm exchange between lovers based on the smile that crossed your lips and the way Fili chuckled at your reactions.
Little did they know Fili was quickly placing you under a spell with every word that passed his lips. Things like; “See everyone watching you? They’re all thinking about the things they want to do to you. Too bad for them I’m the only one who gets to.”
Or he would discreetly trail his fingers up your thigh where your dress parted in a high cut slit, briefly touching you at the apex of your legs, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into you, saying in a low voice, “The best part about seeing you in this dress is knowing I’ll get to see you out of it soon.”
Every one of these promises made you shiver, finding yourself pressing your thighs together in an attempt to restrain yourself from spreading them apart for him right there.
You were a mess.
You even went so far as to avoid your own husband, putting distance between you any time he came near again, but it was no use. Even from across the room he knew how to make you squirm, looking you up and down like he would take you in front of everyone in the room.
It took everything in you to focus on the conversations around you, but Fili was unrelenting, determined and persistent in making you break.
Nodding along to a story you wouldn’t be able to recall the subject of even if you tried, told to you by a dwarf whose name you had long forgotten, you felt Fili brush his hand over the opening on your waist, the action making you swallow harshly and close your eyes. Curse him!
The dwarf before you continued his story, and thankfully there was a group surrounding you so he didn’t take notice of your rude behaviour.
“Did you have some dessert, amralime?” Fili asked beside you, having set his plate down on the table nearest to where you both stood before placing his hand on his hip and looking at you curiously.
“No, Fili, I did not. I’ve been slightly distracted…” you said with a playful warning.
He chuckled and his tongue darted out to lick his lips, you watching it happen like it was in slow motion.
“That’s too bad, it was delicious,” his lips turned upwards and his dimples made a more prominent appearance, making you weak once more. Choosing to ignore the effect he had on you, you turned back toward the story-teller, vowing not to succumb to the hunger that lingered in your stomach that wasn’t because you wanted dessert.
Fili leaned closer to you, his mouth beside your ear, his breath hot and sweet like the berries he’d just consumed and goosebumps erupted on your skin instantly. “It was good, but you’re going to taste better…”
That was your breaking point. You politely excused yourself from the group and gripped Fili’s arm with your hand, turning him to follow you and practically dragging him through the crowd to the doors. The cheeky dwarf dared to laugh as he struggled to keep up with you which only fueled your fire. You were going to wipe that smug grin off of his face.
As soon as you were both through the doors you moved to press him against the wall, hastily attaching your lips to his, your mouths immediately opening in your breathlessness to allow your tongues to tangle together. His hand flew up to hold your cheek, moving off the wall to replace his body with yours, your back slamming against the stone with a thud. His knee drove between your legs to part them, his hands moving down your sides tantalizingly slow. He took your hands in his and reached them up over your head at the same time he ground his hard bulge against your mound, the material gliding over the wet that had accumulated in your folds.
He pulled away from you slightly, watching your chest heave, his eyes dancing over every area of your body that the dress revealed.
“Mahal, you are a sight to behold,” Fili praised you. “This dress was the best money I’ve ever spent,” he continued, laughing before diving down to kiss your throat, pulling a drawn out moan from you.
“Although I can’t decide if I want to take you while you’re still wearing it, or rip it off of you.” His words mumbled against your skin as he explored you further, making you forget you weren’t yet in the privacy of your chambers. Then he stopped, his hands now braced on either side of your head, his pupils completely dilated as he looked at you menacingly.
“Probably both.”
You gasped when he latched onto your taught nipple through the thin fabric of the dress and quite frankly you didn’t care what happened to the dress, you simply needed him to end this ceaseless torture he’d put you through all night.
“Fìli!” you pleaded, “Take me home this instant, I’ve suffered enough!”
He grinned at you again, clearly amused by your frustrations and pulled you from the wall, making his way down the corridor toward your chambers with your hand in his.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”
“This is exactly what you wanted to happen, wasn’t it?” you accused him as you realized his intention for buying you such a scandalous gown, your mouth hanging open, mockingly aghast.
“I had to make it so it was your idea to leave! I didn’t want to go in the first place.”
“You’re terrible, Fili.”
Giving you a sideways glance, you all but combusted on the spot when you heard his next words.
“I’m about to show you how terrible I can be.”
Fili’s robes were being torn off and discarded on the floor, the hem of your dress hiked up to your hips even before your door was unlatched, both of you frantic to access the other. As soon as you were completely through the threshold Fili kicked the door shut with his boot, managing to push it off his foot in the process.
Buttons fell to the floor as you tore open his tunic, revealing his bare torso to you.
“Easy, now, my love. We can’t go ruining all of our best clothes.” He dared to laugh again but it was cut off, changing to a hiss when you reached forward and pulled at the laces on his trousers, his cock hanging out heavily in the cool air.
“I’m not letting you ruin this dress, Fili. I quite like the effect it had on you.” You watched him melt to your touch as you stroked his length, his head tipping back in ecstasy. His head returned to its normal position and his eyes opened to look at you when you suddenly stopped touching him, moving away to sit on the small desk that occupied the space beside the door.
Fili strode over to you, closing the short distance quickly with a ferocity that worried you slightly. His hands roughly covered your knees and pushed them apart, making room for him to stand between your legs. He pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers now roaming up the backs of your thighs to cue you to wrap your legs around his thick waist.
“I’ll do my best to refrain from ruining the gown, amralime,” he whispered in a husky voice, his lips brushing yours. He lifted it further up your body, the silky skirt pooling at your hips, exposing your abundant arousal to him. “I can’t make the same promise for you though.” The tips of his fingers grazed over you and Fili growled at how ready you were, and before he could waste another moment gripped his throbbing cock and lined it up to push through your tight entrance.
You both cried out at finally getting what you both had desired all night, your hips pushing forward to meet his already intense thrusts.
The sound of the desk banging against the wall echoed throughout your chambers, the feral tempo you worked to set revealed with every clap of wood on stone.
Teeth crashed together with every desperate kiss, nothing of what your hands and mouths were doing made any sense other than that it was as if you were trying to grasp onto each other for dear life with every touch. Curses spilled from Fili’s wet lips, making you question whether it was to prolong this session and prevent his nearing climax, when all it was doing was spurring yours on. He roared in your ear as you began your ascent, your walls closing around him, squeezing and coaxing out all he had to offer you. In your blind passion you sensed his hands grip your side, groping and clawing at you in his own frantic pursuit. His fingers slipped through one of the cutouts on the side of your gown, the sound of material ripping registering on you just as you shouted through your high.
There was no time to care, still focused on riding out the shuddering bliss that rattled through you while Fili pounded into you in search of his own. His mouth covered yours, sloppy and clumsy, and with a growl that reverberated through you, you felt him coat your insides with his hot spend.
After a few moments of panting and kissing, Fili pulled out of you and took a step back, running his fingers through his sweaty hair that you’d efficiently messed up during your activities. He stumbled slightly, moving his hands from his hair to run over his beard like he was trying to catch his bearings again. His body was coated in a layer of sweat from his exertion, and despite your very small annoyance that your dress was ruined you couldn’t help but admire the masterpiece that was your husband standing before you in all his glory.
You cleared your throat to regain his attention, fiddling with the tattered piece of dress between your fingers to draw his gaze there.
A sigh left him and he placed his hands on his hips, shrugging slightly as a sated smile pulled at his dimples. “I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean to ruin it,” he said vaguely, his attempt at an apology weak.
Unconvinced, you gave him a pointed look but then squirmed where you remained when he took a step toward you again, gathering the edge of your dress in his hands, his expression hungry once more.
“Seeing as it is now torn,” he looked from your exposed midsection up to your eyes with renewed spirit, “I’m going to have to take it off of you and take you for a second time without any part of you hidden from me.”
A yelp escaped you when Fili gripped your bottom and slid you off the desk, dragging you down to the floor with him. Both of you erupted in laughter, the thin and scratchy rug not softening the landing whatsoever, but your discomfort was soon forgotten when you were slowly guided to lay on your back, your dress slipped up and over your head, the silky garment now used as your blanket.
Fili settled himself between your legs, slowly kissing you while gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek, an indication that this next round would be unhurried and measured, a stark contrast to the rush you both found yourselves in earlier.
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Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea
Fili: @shethereadinghobbit
#fili#fili smut#fili smut request#fili oneshot#the hobbit fili#fili x reader#fili x female reader#smut#the hobbit#fili durin
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Hate To Think About You With Somebody Else - F.W.
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Fred and Y/N used to be friends with benefits, but that arrangement ended in heartbreak. Can Fred handle seeing her out with somebody else?
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, small bit of violence/fight scene (the reader and Fred are not injured), possessive talk, fingering, degradation, bondage, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a bit angsty with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything!
A/N: For @theweasleytwinsgirl who asked for the reader teasing Fred, leading to her being tied up! I added a bit of plot to it, because I cannot help it. Obviously, this fic is lightly inspired by “Somebody Else” by The 1975. I am not very confident in my smut writing abilities, so any feedback would be appreciated! I also feel I should thank @lumosandnoxwriting for giving me advice and reassurance throughout writing this. Pictures are from Pinterest.
I have not included all of my general taglist, because I do not know who is 18+ or who wants to be tagged in smut.
Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia sat leisurely around the twins’ shared living room, laughing and giggling over drinks. The past few weeks had been hell at the shop, so the boys felt they needed a much deserved night to just relax. Previously, Fred would have liked nothing more than to relieve his tension with Y/N, but unfortunately, that was no longer an option.
“Have you heard about Y/N and Pucey?” Angelina prodded with a giggle, her eyes alit with mischief.
Fred’s jaw immediately clenched at the sound of her name, his grip on his glass tightening. He most certainly hadn’t heard about her in a few weeks, and he hadn’t expected to have such a visceral reaction at the mere mention of her name. Regaining his composure, he forced himself to relax a bit and quirk a brow, feigning both confusion and interest.
“No? They shagging?” George questioned, sitting forward in his seat.
“Apparently, but I guess it’s becoming a bit more serious than just that.” Angelina shrugged, turning her gaze to Alicia beside her for confirmation. When the second girl nodded, Fred downed another gulp of his drink.
That can’t be right, he thought. It hadn’t even been a month since the last time they had been together, Y/N pinned beneath him as breathy moans escaped her lips. In the dim light of his bedroom, she had whispered to him that her pussy was his, that she was his, and now, apparently, she was with someone else. Some part of him knew that he had no right to be upset, because truthfully, it was his choice to end their little arrangement. But she had left him no choice after breaking their number one rule.
Y/N and Fred had ventured past friendly acquaintanceship about a year before, after a few too many firewhiskys at an infamous Weasley twins’ party. The morning after, they had tiptoed around each other, clearly uncomfortable by the change in dynamic. But it didn’t take long for it to happen again, and again, and again. Before either of them had really realized it, they had become much more than friends but much less than really together, and Fred wanted to keep it that way. He wanted them to remain in that middle ground.
As far as he knew, Y/N was more than fine with where they stood with each other. Until one day, she wasn’t. He remembered clearly how she had bit her lip and gazed at him, only moments after finishing him off with her mouth. He had looked at her curiously, wondering where her usual, joking, post-coital self had gone.
“Have you ever thought of me as more than, you know, just an easy fuck?”
Her words had shocked him, because they certainly weren’t the turn of phrase he would have used. He didn’t think of her as ‘an easy fuck,’ he thought of her as a friend. Someone he cared deeply for. But as he gazed into her desperate eyes, he was struck with the realization that he didn’t care for her the way she hoped. He had swallowed deeply, preparing his words in his mind, before shattering her heart.
Now, he wasn’t sure why he cared. Sure, he had thought about her a lot in the weeks they’d been apart, but he was always so sure that he had made the right choice. Relationships were messy, and he was young, so he had no intention to be tied down so soon. Still, the thought of her with Adrian Pucey made his blood boil, and he wished desperately that he could put an explanation to the feeling.
“Fred?”
The sound of his name tore him from his thoughts of Y/N, and he quickly plastered on his signature goofy grin before sitting forward and re-immersing himself in the conversation. Still, in the back of his mind, images of Y/N and Adrian played on repeat, fueling a fire that he hadn’t realized was a lit within him.
-
A week later, Fred found himself at a party at Oliver Wood’s flat, celebrating a win for Puddlemere United. There was an array of different people there, ranging from his old Hogwarts team, to groupies, to people who had just showed up at the mention of a party. Fred had planned on getting drunk that night, but after seeing George and Lee sloppily grinding on a few witches in an intoxicated bliss, he decided maybe—for once—he would be the responsible one.
Fred had gone nearly an hour, just barely nursing a glass of firewhisky and chatting with old friends jovially, before his eyes landed on a familiar face entering the party.
Fred was frozen at the eye contact they held, his first time seeing her in weeks. Y/N held the gaze for a moment, before turning to grip Adrian’s wrist behind her and drag him further into the party. If Fred thought he had a strong reaction to hearing about their relationship, it was nothing compared to actually seeing it. Fred slammed his drink down and walked away from the poor girl he had been chatting with without so much as an explanation.
“Let’s get out of here.” Fred clapped a hand down on George’s shoulder the moment he reached him, pulling his attention away from the girl dancing against him.
“Now?” George questioned incredulously, his brows raising. He gestured to the girl in his arms before returning a pleading look to his brother. “Come on, mate. This isn’t a great time.”
Fred knew he could convince his brother to leave if he explained, but his mouth felt entirely too dry. He couldn’t seem to formulate the words as to why he needed to get out of there. So, instead, he sighed and offered his brother a nod before retreating back to the outskirts of the people dancing.
Normally, Fred was the life of the party. By this point in the night, he’d usually be plastered and singing or dancing with no remorse. But seeing Y/N with a bloke like Pucey caused him to have an entire demeanor change, leaving him scowling leaned against the wall.
It didn’t take long for his eyes to find Y/N amongst those dancing, pressed closely to Pucey behind her. She was dancing provocatively, even turning in the man’s grasp every little bit to kiss him sloppily. At first, Fred had been almost certain that she was doing it on purpose. The way she was right in his line of vision, acting completely out of character in her open demeanor, it all felt like too much for him to handle.
Then, she made eye contact with him, and held it, and he just knew. She was doing it on purpose. All of her actions had been a way to get him worked up, to see if he would get jealous, and dammit it was working. Fred chewed on the inside of his cheek, holding her gaze as she grinded her bum against Pucey. She held his gaze as she slowly craned her neck and pulled Adrian into a searing kiss, her eyes back on Fred the moment the two pulled apart.
That was the final straw for Fred. He wasn’t going to stand idly by while she taunted him so openly, showing him everything he was missing. So, he pushed through the crowd of people and found his way to the two of them, ignoring the small smirk that had risen on her face.
“Y/N,” He breathed out, just loud enough for her to hear over the music. Suddenly, he was entirely unsure of his next move, but he desperately wanted to regain control over the situation. So, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Oi, what the hell, Weasley?” Adrian paused his dancing, although his hands remained gripped on Y/N’s waist. “Can’t you see we’re a little busy here?”
Fred completely ignored the man at first, his eyes never leaving Y/N. He could see by the look on her face that he had played exactly into what she wanted, but with the jealousy coursing through him, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. She smirked slightly at Fred before craning her neck to look back at Adrian, almost as if she were challenging him to fight for her further.
“I can see,” Fred seethed, finally looking up at Adrian. “I can see a poor girl not having a very good time. So, I’m offering her a better option. Why don’t you let her decide?”
Adrian scoffed, taking a small step back from Y/N but keeping one hand on her hip. He looked down at her, waiting expectantly for her to deny any desire to go off with Fred. When she simply glanced between the two of them, Adrian’s brows furrowed and a look of offense overtook his features.
“Come on, Y/N.” He pleaded. “Tell him.”
Y/N bit down on her lip, the action only infuriating Adrian further. He looked at her incredulously before scoffing and turning his head away.
“Should’ve known a desperate little slut like you couldn’t be loyal.”
In an instant, Fred pushed Y/N out of the way and landed a hard blow to Adrian’s jaw. Y/N was dazed, everything seeming to move in slow motion as all eyes turned on them. Adrian had faltered only for a moment, cupping his jaw in his hand before straightening up and lunging towards Fred.
Luckily, George and Lee were there after a moment, tearing Adrian away and threatening to pummel him as they marched him towards the door. Y/N knew Fred wouldn’t need their help in a fight, but she was still grateful that a full out brawl hadn’t occurred because of her. Y/N rushed to Fred, cradling his fist in her hand and glancing up at his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, but the music had stopped, so he could hear her.
“‘m fine.” He answered curtly, glancing between the way she held his hand and her eyes. “So, can we get out of here?”
Y/N’s lips formed into a tight line, so as to conceal the smirk that desperately wanted to break through. She offered him a quick nod, and in an instant he was dragging her out the door and apparating her back to his flat.
The moment that they were in Fred’s room and the door shut, his lips were on hers. Her back was pressed up against his door, desperate little moans leaving her mouth as she reveled in the feeling of having him against her once more. Fred took the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth when her lips parted, taking full control of the situation.
Y/N was more than content to let him take over, having missed him in their time apart more than she would ever like to admit. Of course, the feelings she still held for him lingered strongly, but she tried not to think about that as Fred pressed himself further against her. Adrian had been nothing more than a distraction, a feeble hope that she had held onto as a way to get over the tall red head, but it clearly hadn’t worked. She felt a bit bad, because she knew Adrian cared about her far more deeply than she did him, but she also knew she had made it clear she didn’t want a relationship. The irony was sickening.
“That was quite a show you were putting on tonight.” Fred pulled away from her breathlessly, his eyes tracking up and down her body.
“Yeah?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, I was just having a bit of fun.”
A low growl crawled out of his throat as he pressed his lips to hers once more, using more force than previously. Y/N squeaked at the intensity, but quickly melted into him. His hands trailed up and down her sides as she rested her own around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
Fred’s hands finally made their way to the hem of her shirt, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach and sending a shockwave throughout her. Slowly, he trailed his fingers up, raising her shirt up in his wake. Y/N was quick to oblige, breaking away from him to allow him to tear the garment off completely.
For a moment, Fred’s eyes trailed over her slightly revealed form, drinking in the way she looked half-naked. He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing her like this, and he found that his breath hitched at even the littlest bit of exposure.
As his eyes met her pleading ones, he quickly recovered. Their passion resumed in an instant as he pressed his lips to hers once more, spinning her away from the door and walking her backwards towards his bed. Y/N allowed him to lightly push her back onto it, her heart fluttering at the sudden gentleness of his actions. She’d always loved the dominance he held over her, but something about what was happening between them now felt different. But, as he draped his body over her own, all of her hopes of actual romance melted away and her mind was entirely clouded with just the appeal of him.
Y/N arched herself against Fred, giving him the space to unclasp her bra. He slid the straps down her arms slowly, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck, until he finally met the tops of her breasts. He cast her bra aside, shooting her one last look before taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth. Y/N moaned at the contact, her fingers immediately threading themselves through his flaming hair. As his teeth gently grazed her nipple she gave his hair a tug, causing him to moan against her.
Fred continued his trail downward, planting kisses down her torso until he made it to the band of her leggings. Y/N lifted her hips and Fred held eye contact with her as he slowly pulled them down her legs. Y/N realized that he seemed to be drawing all of this out, pushing her to the point of pure desperation to make her pay for teasing him all night. Still, she bit her tongue and held back any thoughts of pleading with him, she couldn’t give in that easy.
When she was left in nothing but her panties, Fred sat back on his knees and leisurely unbuttoned his shirt. Y/N watched him intently, her frustration increasing significantly, until she could no longer contain it. She let out a desperate whine, pleading with the man with her eyes alone.
“Something wrong, love?” Fred cocked his head to the side and smirked.
“Freddie,” Y/N whined, the nickname feeling foreign yet fitting on her tongue.
Fred discarded his shirt before circling his hand around on of her ankles and hitching it up on his shoulder. He placed a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle before slowly trailing kisses back up her leg towards her thigh. Y/N shuttered as his lips ghosted over her clothed pussy, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Please.”
Fred looped one finger under the hem of her lace panties, but made no effort to pull them down. When a low chuckle escaped his lips, Y/N knew she was in trouble. Her eyes flew open once more, immediately meeting his darkened, lust-filled ones.
“Did you really think I’d give in that easy?” Fred mocked, punctuating his question by snapping the band of her underwear. “You tease me all night, putting on a show for me, acting like a desperate little slut.” He paused to wet his lips, drinking in the soft moan that escaped from her lips. “That is what you are, isn’t it?”
“Only for you, Freddie.”
“Really?” Fred scoffed, sitting back up to begin fiddling with his belt. Y/N raised herself up on her forearms, desperation and arousal pooling in her core. “Because it didn’t seem that way tonight.” Fred’s tongue darted out of his mouth, swiping over his bottom lip as he gazed at her hungrily. “Think maybe I might need to remind you whose slut you are. What do you think?”
She whimpered, but managed a feeble nod. In their previous times together, her and Fred were nothing if not adventurous in the bedroom. Still, as he waved his wand and bound her wrists to his headboard, she couldn’t help but gasp and lightly fight against the restraints. Fred held a devilish smirk at her plight as he stood from the bed and sat his wand back down.
Fred crawled back over her, his intense dominance faltering for just a moment as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Still remember the safe word, yeah?”
“Yes, Freddie.” She managed to speak, although it was difficult. Fred leaned back and searched her eyes for a moment before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to her lips. After that, any sense of gentleness faded.
Fred’s lips sucked and bit at her neck hungrily, one of his large hands trailing down to rub her through her panties while the other massaged her breast. Y/N’s thighs clamped around his hand, which quickly earned her a light swat to her hip.
“Stay still, or I’ll have no problem tying your legs up too.” Fred growled against her neck.
Y/N quickly obliged, spreading her legs further open. While previously she may have been more inclined to push Fred a bit, her mind was too clouded with lust to do anything but obey him. After weeks of mediocre sex with Adrian, she was ready to completely give herself over to Fred, and let him have her in anyway he wanted.
Fred’s hand pushed the fabric of her panties aside, allowing one finger to drag through her wet folds. She was already soaking wet for him, despite the fact he’d hardly touched her. Without a warning, he plunged one finger into her, lightly moaning at the way she constricted around him. Y/N’s back arched ever so slightly against him, tugging futilely against her bound wrists. He set a steady pace, thrusting his finger in and out of her before adding another and scissoring the two. He changed pace after a moment, beginning to curl his fingers up into her as his thumb rubbed circles against her waiting clit. The pressure in her core grew quickly from that, and she couldn’t help the way she loudly moaned out.
“Right there, yes, oh god…”
Fred was now smirking as he pulled away from her neck, significantly satisfied with the many markings he’d left as well as how quickly he could bring her to this point. He knew her body like the back of his hand, he knew her signs for when she was close, and it made it so much easier to enact his plan.
Just as Y/N was teetering on the edge, desperate whines and random babbles leaving her lips, Fred pulled his hand away. She let out a frustrated and confused groan, her eyes flying open as she felt the build up slowly slip away. Fred just grinned at her, before getting off the bed and ridding himself of his trousers and boxers. He lazily stroked himself as he took her in, chest heaving and covered in a light sheen of sweat, completely at his mercy. She had stopped her attempts at fighting her restraints, looking at him like she were almost defeated. In her mind, she’d begun to fear the very real possibility that Fred wouldn’t let her cum at all.
“You seem frustrated.” Fred cooed mockingly, coming to lean back over her and gently brush her cheek. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Fred.” Y/N spoke firmly, though her eyes portrayed her fears. “You’ve got to let me finish.”
“Hm.” Fred seemed to ponder that, leaning back to slowly pull her panties down her legs. “I don’t think I have to do anything. In fact, I could just leave you here all tied up and needy.”
“Please,” Y/N whined, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
“It’s a start.” Fred tutted, finally discarding her panties aside. He leaned down near her ear once more, his warm breath sending a chill down her spine. “What I’d really like, though, is to hear how much you need me. Wanna hear you say it.”
“Please, Freddie, I need your cock so bad. Need you to ruin me.” Y/N cried out, losing all sense of dignity as her sex-addled brain took over. Fred had intended to tease her much longer, but her desperate pleas were going straight to his cock, and he couldn’t hold out any longer.
“That’s all you had to say, love.”
Fred hitched her leg around his hip, gripping his cock in his free hand. He teased the head through her wet folds, shivering at the moan she let out from just the smallest contact. Then, he pushed his hips forward, not stopping until he was completely buried in her. Their low moans mixed together in the quiet of the room, Fred being careful not to move until he was sure she had adjusted to his size.
“Fuck, I forgot how fucking good you feel.” He groaned, burying his face in her neck.
“Move… Please.”
He needed no further encouragement. Fred pulled out about halfway before snapping his hips back forward, setting a brutal but steady pace. Y/N’s loud moans and Fred’s grunts mixed together, accompanied only by the sound of their skin on skin contact. Y/N could feel her orgasm building again as his dick hit her g-spot with every thrust, and she was almost embarrassed by how quickly he could bring her to this point.
“‘m so close, Freddie.” Y/N breathed out, knowing it would only infuriate him further if she came without his permission.
“Already?” Fred scoffed, although he knew he wasn’t far behind.
Still, he wasn’t ready for things to end so soon, so he pulled out completely, ignoring the desperate whine that left her throat. He pulled both of her legs together and pushed her knees up against her chest, holding her ankles together with one hand before thrusting back into her desperate cunt. The new position allowed him to hit deeper within her as he thrust downward, causing Y/N to scream out. The pain was delicious, it was everything she had longed for in their time apart.
“You really think you deserve to cum?” Fred grunted, landing a particularly hard thrust into her. “After everything you pulled tonight?”
“Please.” Y/N whined. She was so close, she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it if he stole another orgasm from her.
“Answer the question, slut.” Fred demanded, his pace quickening ever so slightly. “That’s what you are, isn’t it? A desperate little cum slut.”
“Yes.” Y/N cried out. “But only for you, Freddie. Just a slut for you.”
“That’s right.” Fred’s rhythm had begun to falter, approaching his own orgasm quickly. Still, he was unsure if he’d let her finish or not. “You’re my little slut. Only I get to call you that, right?”
“Yes, Freddie.” Y/N whined, beginning to tug again on her restraints. She wanted nothing more than to scrape her nails down his back, but being completely at his mercy turned her on endlessly.
“Good.” Fred was close, so fucking close, but he had made his decision. So he had to hold off. “Cum for me, then. You’ve earned it.”
That was all the encouragement she needed, and as Fred hit one more thrust into her g-spot she was tumbling over the edge. Electricity seemed to shoot all throughout her body as she loudly moaned out his name. Her legs were shaking and she was certain she’d be sore tomorrow, but she had little time to care about that as he continued to pound into her.
Y/N knew Fred well, just as well as he knew her, so she knew he was close. Her mind felt almost entirely blank and she wasn’t sure she had much energy for anything, but she wanted to bring him to his release badly. So, she clenched around him, a moan leaving her lips when he stuttered and groaned. His thrusts were faltering significantly, and after a few moments he was crying out her name as he finished in her.
Fred pulled out and dropped her legs before crashing down next to her. He knew that he needed to untie her, but they also both just needed a moment to breathe. All that could be heard was the sounds of their mixed pants as they both came down from their highs. Once he was significantly more relaxed, he gripped his wand and swished it lazily, effectively removing the restraints she was held in.
Y/N hands dropped down and she quickly went to rub at her wrists, but Fred was quick to bat her hands away and do it himself. He examined both wrist closely, seeming to want to ensure that they were okay.
“They weren’t too tight, were they?” Fred implored after a moment. His genuine concern made her heart flutter, and she couldn’t help herself as she leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his lips.
“No, they were perfect—all of it was perfect.” She sighed as she pulled away from him. Her general cognition was beginning to return, and with it her fears of all of the pain she had gone through in the past etched their way through.
Sure, Fred had clearly gotten jealous at the party. Then, he had gotten possessive and claimed her in the bedroom. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he harbored the same feelings for her that she had for him. The fear nearly paralyzed her, and she wasn’t sure if she should quickly redress and flee the room or implore what this all meant. Luckily, he answered her internal questioning before she even had to ask.
“I don’t want to see you out with Pucey.” Fred sighed, his eyes not meeting hers. “Which is a total prat thing to say, but it’s true. I don’t want to see you out with any bloke, really.”
“Fred…” Y/N spoke tentatively, her eyes begging him to speak further.
“I want you, Y/N. Like, really.” Fred finally met her gaze. “Not just in my bed.”
“What, do you want me on the couch too?” Y/N tried to joke, hoping it would cover up her nervous tone. But it didn’t. So, her voice became soft. “Don’t get my hopes up, Freddie.”
“I’m being serious.” He shook his head. “I want to take you out on fancy dates, or watch movies with you on my couch. Bloody hell, I want to bring you to my parent’s house for Sunday dinners. I don’t know, I’m not good at this. Whatever it is that couples do.”
“Fred Weasley,” A small smile had begun to grow on Y/N’s face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Yes.” Fred answered earnestly. “That is, only if you’re going to say yes. Otherwise, this was all just a joke—”
Y/N shut him up by pressing her lips to his, her mouth still curled upwards in a smile. It was impossible to hide the genuine happiness that his words brought her.
“Yes.” She answered softly as she pulled away.
A similar smile began to grow on Fred’s face as he completely registered her words, and he couldn’t help but dive back in for another kiss. Y/N was his, completely. Something he’d probably wanted for so long, but had simply been too daft to realize it. Now, as he held her in his arms, he promised himself he’d never make such a mistake again.
Tagging a few 18+ mutuals from my usual taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair
#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley#fred weasley x you#Fred Weasley fanfic
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Breaking Oaths and Following Orders - Din Djarin
thebounty said: Hey!! I was wondering if I could ask for a request for a Mandalorian x Jedi!reader? It’s inspired by this song (Jenny- Studio Killers) which is basically about friends turned into lovers.
AN: Ah, yes, the TikTok song...I hope I did your idea justice! (I cut the rest of your request out on this official post because I didn’t want to totally spoil what happens!)
You were familiar with the carbon stink of blaster bolts and the excited tension of battle. Limited stints in combat during the Clone Wars, when you were barely old enough to be a padawan, had introduced you to the harsh adrenaline and smells of war. A gunfight in some alley on some Outer Rim world was nothing compared to what you had seen. Though, now, you knew all of what was at stake; you loved all that was at stake.
“I don’t think they’re Jedi,” Din observed as he ducked down behind the thick stone wall you were using as cover. You shot the helmeted man an incredulous look.
“Really? What gave you that idea? The fact they’re not using laser swords or that they’re shooting at us?” Din didn’t respond to your sarcasm and instead popped up above the wall to let a few bolts fly. Based on the yelps of pain, they hit their marks.
“We need to get out of here,” he said once he ducked back down. You nodded and glanced at the Child, still tucked away in his cradle. His big eyes were glued to you, as they often were in the heat of battle. Expectant, waiting for you to make your, the, move.
“Yeah, we do,” you agreed, before you pressed the button on the Child’s cradle that closed the little creature within. The last thing you wanted was more pressure.
“They have us pinned,” Din said and tipped his head back towards the wall behind you. “And there’s at least five,” the Mandalorian popped up from behind the wall again and nearly missed a blaster bolt to the head, “six up front.”
“Can’t you jet us out of here?”
Wordlessly, Din reached around to his back and rapped his gloved knuckles against the fuel tank of his jet pack. An empty, metallic clang echoed the knocking of his hand. No fuel.
“Karabast,” you cursed as you turned your attention to the enemies firing luring shots at the relative safety of the wall. There were too many. A step beyond the stone would mean certain death. So did staying put. Direness set in, loomed like a storm cloud in your mind. You glanced back at Din and the Child’s cradle only to have a lump form in your throat.
As if on cue, the cradle covers opened and revealed the watchful eyes of the Child. He was still focused on you. As you took a moment to study him in return, you neither heard a coo of worry nor did you see flinch of fear. He was calm, eerily so; as if he knew what you were thinking, what you knew you had to do.
You moved your gaze to Din and watched as he let a few shots go towards your attackers. A stray blaster bolt from the enemy knocked against the beskar plate on his chest, right above his heart. Too close to where his armor ended and his clothing began. Too close for comfort. You couldn't lose him.
Adrenaline, pure and vile rushed through you. Before you could move against your instincts, your hand reached out and pulled Din back down behind the stone wall. The dark visor of his helmet met your gaze. You could feel the question on his lips, despite having never seen them. You had spent enough time imagining them; how they looked and how they might feel against your own.
“Grab the kid and run on my word,” you said with a tone of seriousness to break yourself from your wonderings. “Got it?”
Din was still for a moment and you realized that your hand lingered on his arm. Warmth spread through your fingers, up your arm, and to your face. Quickly, you let go, and the Mandalorian seemed to have recovered. He nodded wordlessly and reached out towards the cradle. When the pod was tucked under his arm, you moved to face the stone wall you all were hidden behind.
“What are you planning, Y/N?”
Din’s tone was cold, laced with concern. After all the cycles you and the man had worked and lived together, you had noticed he only said your name when you were about to do something dangerous. You had wished he said it more, in different contexts, like one of affection. Though, you had reasoned long ago that Din’s concern was his affection. Like the Jedi, it seemed that Mandalorian of Din’s Creed forewent too-personal, entangling attachments. It was the first principle of the Code that you had wished you had broken long ago. In a sense, you had. The care you held, the love, for Din and the Child...you were a Jedi no longer.
But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pretend.
“You can ask me questions later.”
Before Din could attempt to stop you, you reached down to each of your hips and pulled the two metal, somewhat cylindrical pieces of your lightsaber from your belt. In a practiced motion, you latched the two segments together and pressed the ignite switch. As soon as the blade ignited, you focused your mind on the small, stone wall that sheltered you. Once you pictured it clear in your mind, you threw your hands up and pushed forward. When you opened your eyes, the stone wall hurtled towards your attackers and drove some down into the dirt. You glanced at Din.
“Now!”
At your word, Din rushed towards the now dwindling group of criminals that had been shooting at you. Due to the laser sword in your hands, most of their fire was focused on you. With an ease that surprised you, you twirled your saber in the air and deflected the shots. Most landed in the chests of those had taken aim, giving each a swift death. You gave an extra flourish to redirect a blaster bolt towards one of the attackers that was more interested in Din and cradle.
The man fell quickly and a surge of confidence rushed through you. You still had it, even after all this time of hiding! Only a few criminals remained and you drew closer and closer. As you moved, their aim grew more and more precise. One even dared to charge at you. With you busied dispatching him, another shot off his rifle. White-hot and searing hurt ripped through your lower leg, then your shoulder. A yelp of pain escaped your lips. Overcome by heated rage and long ago lessons forgotten, you tilted forward and struck him down.
Then there was silence. Only your haggard breath filled your ears. The pain in your leg and shoulder overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long time since you had taken a hit. An even longer time since you had used the weapon of your dead Master.
You fell to your knees, tried to focus on forcing your breathing steady. When you hit the ground, your thumb instinctively struck the power switch. With a hiss, the blade closed and you found enough strength to lift your gaze. Your eyes locked with Din’s darkened visor.
“Y/N.”
There was that concern again. It was the last thing you heard before you fell back, let your body rest against the dirt of the alleyway and splatters of blood.
You woke with a start. The wild beating of your heart propelled you, so you sat up straight in the sleeping nook. Your head nearly slammed against the ceiling. When you recognized the interior of the Razor Crest, you allowed yourself to catch your breath.
“Hey, hey, hey” Din appeared in the entrance of the sleeping nook with his hands raised towards you. He looked as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “You’re safe. You’re home.”
You nodded but your head did not clear. On your skin still clung the stink of the alley, the carbon of blaster fire, and, against your hand, you felt the cold hilt of the lightsaber. The moment your eyes landed on the weapon, you felt your breath get caught in your throat once more. Memories of the fight rushed back and your heart still thundered in your chest. You focused on Din’s helmet, studied his now straightened posture, and swallowed hard.
“The Child, is he-”
“He’s fine,” Din replied before the question could leave your lips. You shook your head.
“No, did he see...did he see me?”
“It was hard not to see you,” Din said softly.
Tension filled the silence that trailed after his words. It was heavier than the pressure of battle. Din always had a way of making it difficult for you to breath. But this was like trying to wade through the muck of a full trash compactor. The air between you was thick, weighed down by everything you both wanted to say to the other.
You shifted in the sleeping nook in an effort to find a more comfortable position. As you moved, your shoulder knocked against the wall and you hissed in pain. Din lurched forwards and towards you. You felt heated skin against your arms and, when you looked down, you found that he had not donned his signature gloves.
“Here. I’ll help you step out.”
Din was careful as he eased you out of the sleeping nook while you tired not to be lost in tender touch of his bare hands against your skin. A wave of affection washed over you when you noted the bandages on your lower leg and shoulder. He had taken his gloves off to take care of you. You wished you could have been conscious to remember it.
“Thanks,” you said once you were on your feet.
Though, Din didn’t let go. Instead, he helped you over to the crates you both used as makeshift seats during meal time. Only when you were both sat down did his hands slip from your arms. The silence seemed to have followed you both over as it settles back between you.
Your mind swirled with worry and doubt, every word you wanted to say. Betrayal was the word that came back most often. You had betrayed the year of trust you had built with Din by not telling him about your past. You had betrayed the Child by not using the Force to forge a deeper connection with him or hear his story. You had betrayed yourself, the oath you swore long ago to never use the teachings of the Jedi. The thought made your stomach twist.
“Is it yours?”
Din’s question broke you from your down spiral. You met the dark gaze of his visor and shook your head. “No. It’s my old Master’s. I lost mine in battle and took his when he…fell.”
“Master? So, you’re a Jedi?”
“No, I never finished the Tri-”
“You can’t do that.” You cocked your head at his interruption. “You can’t keep saying ‘no’ and then give a reason that implies ‘yes’. Are you or are you not a Jedi?”
You swallowed hard, the truth, as Din knew it, balanced on the tip of your tongue. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” There was an edge of anger in his voice but as heated as you had expected. “Why didn’t you tell me when we were sent to look for Jedi, for him?”
“Like I was saying, I didn’t finished my training or the Trials. I don’t know the mysteries the Council kept hidden or where any others are.” Din stood up at your reasoning and stared down at you. Even masked behind the helmet, you still felt the intensity of his eyes on you.
“You should have told me.” He said, the heat a little higher in his voice. “Do you not trust me enough to keep you safe?”
Stoked by the flames of his voice, you stood from your seat. Din’s visor remained trained on you, waiting for your next move. There was only a step’s worth of space between you now and it was either the close proximity or the pain of your wounds that made your face flush. You weren’t entirely sure as to which but you did know your own truth.
“No, I trust you, Din, with my life,” his name left your lips without a thought. Between thoughts, you realized it was the first time you said his name aloud after learning on Nevarro; but you couldn’t stop now. “The Jedi’s way is old, just as old as the Mandalore, and we have our customs. Following orders is one of them and I was given an order to stay quiet, to stay hidden. I will not apologize for following that order, even if I am a Jedi no longer.”
All of the sudden, the fight and anger left you. You thought of your Master, how he would be disappointed in your outburst. Overwhelmed by the feeling, you sat back down on your crate while Din stayed standing. Heavy, you head fell into your hands. In the dark behind your eyelids, you found little solace or comfort.
Just as you were about to admit defeat and retire back to the sleeping nook, hands gripped your wrists. Gently, Din pulled your hands away from your face and, in response, you looked into his visor. For a moment, you swore that you could see his eyes shining beneath his helmet, his own order and oath manifested in beskar. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands fell from your wrists and tucked up under the bottom of his helmet.
“Din,” you said, the same concern that swaddled your name in his voice now held his own. “Don’t do this, not like this.”
“I trust you, Y/N, with my life.” His words echoed your own only softer and you were too caught off guard by that tenderness to try to stop his hands as they pushed up.
You saw the first slivers of tanned skin. Then a scruff covered chin and slope of his jawline. Lips were next on the tour of Din’s features; the very lips you had tried to imagine hundreds of times before. They were pinker than you thought, a little chapped too, but you still longed for them. Then the tip and bridge of his curved nose. A pair of dark brown eyes.
You held Din’s eyes with yours as he finished removing the helmet. He set it on the floor of the Razor Crest with a dull thud, his eyes never leaving yours. Strands of brown hair were set against his forehead, tantalizing enough for you to touch. You fought the urge so you could take in his features a little longer. Despite knowing, based on his voice, that Din was handsome, it was another thing to see it confirmed.
Unable to hold back anymore, you reached a careful hand out. Din recoiled, flinched away from your reach and you pulled back. Just as you were about to apologize, Din recovered and lifted his own hand. Warm, he guided your hand with his until your fingertips brushed against his temple. When he let go of your wrist, you brushed the hair off from his forehead.
At your touch, Din sucked in a shakey, sharp breath. Scared for a moment that he wouldn’t exhale, you traced your hand down from his forehead to the side of his face. Once you had cupped his cheek, Din closed his eyes and let the breath go. His head tilted, leaned into your touch.
“We’re both oath breakers now, huh?”
Din’s eyes opened at your question. Dark and knowing, his eyes met yours before they flickered down to your lips. You trailed your hand along his jaw until you held his chin between two of your fingers. His breath hitched at the suggestive touch.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” you murmured, the pain of your wounds long forgotten. “Din?”
Wordlessly, from where he kneeled before, Din rushed up and towards you. Messily, his lips found yours and his hands gripped at your waist. Quickly, he pulled you against his chest where the cold kiss of beskar greeted your skin. Not that you minded. You were too caught up in Din’s lips against yours, how you had waited a year for this. You weren’t about to let that go.
Not for any order.
#din djarin x reader#din djarin imagine#din djarin imagines#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin fanfic#din djarin x jedi!reader#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian imagine#the mandalorian imagines#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfic#mando#mando x reader#mando imagine#mando imagines#mando fanfic#mando fanfiction#star wars#star wars imagine#star wars imagines#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#the mandalorian fic
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I posted 88 times in 2021
71 posts created (81%)
17 posts reblogged (19%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 0.2 posts.
I added 214 tags in 2021
#toen - 34 posts
#temple of endless night - 31 posts
#hosted games - 28 posts
#ths - 28 posts
#the hidden sanctum - 21 posts
#ask - 19 posts
#twine - 16 posts
#the alchemist - 14 posts
#progress update - 12 posts
#interactive fiction - 11 posts
Longest Tag: 56 characters
#you actually can choose to be a priest/priestess in toen
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
When the traitor dies, divine souls will give birth to a new world, while the old one will drown in despair, disease, wrath, lust, and madness.
The Hidden Sanctum is a modern fantasy game set in an alternative, more unusual version of our world. Book One takes place in a magical plane called the Hidden Sanctum, where unique people – just like you – are taken to learn the truth about the world and discover their true potential. Are you ready to find out what fate has in store for you?
When your old neighbor, Mrs. Kendrick, calls you late in the evening and asks you to watch over her daughter for a couple of hours, you have no idea your whole life is about to be turned upside down. The girl arrives at your door, but with her, so does a legion of mechanical soldiers. They're after you, though you don't know why. Under fire, you leave your home and start running. But where can you go? Will this be your last journey, or will it be the beginning of your new life?
Play as male, female, or nonbinary.
Be gay, straight, bisexual, or asexual.
Romance or befriend one of six unique characters: Odyss – a sad, young man, who lost his way in life, Marco – a fellow student, who is trying to deal with his shady family, Sky – a pure, innocent soul, who above all else wants to be free, Elena – a true lover of nature, who believes there’s beauty in everything, Minjoon – a cheerful dancer with a dark secret, or the Oracle – an woman from the past, who knows a lot about the future.
Influence how your new friends change throughout the game, but be careful not to push them over the edge!
Shape your personality.
Discover and personalize the nature of your soul. Pick one of five paths and reach your true potential!
Explore the Hidden Sanctum and uncover its secrets.
Attend classes, such as: history, alchemy, grounding, balance, and even theater. You can even try to befriend your teachers!
Converse with ancient gods, deal with primordial creatures, learn of forgotten prophecies, and protect the Sanctum from dangers, including those that might come from within!
TUMBLR TAGS: The Hidden Sanctum, THS.
COG FORUM: here.
DEMO: here.
ROMANCE POST: here.
PINTEREST: here.
97 notes • Posted 2021-11-25 14:25:50 GMT
#4
Temple of Endless Night – Submitted!
I have just submitted Temple of Endless Night to Hosted Games!
The final wordcount managed to pass the 200k mark, which makes me both very surprised and incredibly happy. It's been a long journey (I started working on the game exactly eleven months ago), but we're finally getting close to the end.
Once again, I’d like to thank you all for your help! This game wouldn’t be the same without your interest and care.
And now… Now we wait!
111 notes • Posted 2021-05-31 09:58:46 GMT
#3
Temple of Endless Night is OUT NOW!
Temple of Endless Night is a thrilling 200,000 word interactive fantasy novel by Dariel Ivalyen, where your choices fully control the story. It's entirely text-based—without graphics or sound effects—and fueled by the vast, unstoppable power of your imagination.
When a strange man stops you on the streets of your hometown and sends you to an ancient temple that no one seems to know anything about, you grow both curious and worried. As the caravan gets closer to the mysterious place, you realize that the world around you isn’t exactly what it seems. You see things that are not there, and you can tell something is deeply wrong.
Something is trying to influence your mind.
Surrounded by nightmares and illusions, will you use the light to cast them out, or will you help them become reality?
• Choose your gender (male, female, nonbinary).
• Play as gay, straight, bisexual and asexual.
• Romance one of four unique characters: a charming mercenary, a sensible and caring servant, a calculative High Priest, or a forgotten Pharaoh!
• Choose your town, class and god. Work on your relationship with your patron!
• React to situations differently based on your sanity level.
• Experience many different endings, including bad ones.
• Enjoy the beauty of Ancient Egypt.
Will you serve the light, or give in to darkness?
Get Temple of Endless Night HERE!
224 notes • Posted 2021-11-12 19:00:58 GMT
#2
The Alchemist - Announcement!
I've been to dozens of people like you - alchemists, apothecaries, mages - and you're all the same. You claim to know things, but when something really happens, you're just as useless as the rest of us! You're all charlatans! Charlatans!
These words are how you get sent on one of the most important (and most difficult) missions of your life. Your life is relatively uneventful until the morning when Mrs. Daruna Argando, a noblewoman known for her immense wealth and influence, enters your shop, seeking help for her dying grandson.
Will you be able to save her suffering grandson from a terrible fate and figure out what really happened to him? After all, regular people don't stay asleep for weeks...
FEATURES
Play as an alchemist! Manage your shop, help people, and even try to brew a potion in a small mini-game!
Pick your first and last name, and choose your pronouns.
Choose your personality and see how it affects some of your character's responses.
Choose and name your very own familiar.
Pick one of the four elements and see how it changes your magical reactions in dire situations.
Help and old dwarven woman and her grandson, who's been asleep for the past few weeks.
Fight against a monstrous beast!
Start a romance with a kind priestess or a sarcastic enchanter, or choose to remain single. All options are valid!
Drink lots and lots of tea!
The game is going to be episodic in nature, but every episode can be played separately as it tells a different story. There will be a bigger story that'll connect all the episodes and have its culmination in the last episode, but that'll come in an unspecified future.
Also, this is a side project, and that means it's much smaller in scope and more linear than my other games. The first episode will be about 50k words long, and (excluding the customization) it will present you with about 25 choices that will influence the story.
The game will be available on itch.io by the end of April, and the first episode will always be free for everyone!
NOTE: The story is set in the same universe as the Chronicles of Sekherion, but the events take place a bit earlier.
352 notes • Posted 2021-04-19 13:15:28 GMT
#1
The Alchemist is out now!
I've been to dozens of people like you - alchemists, apothecaries, mages - and you're all the same. You claim to know things, but when something really happens, you're just as useless as the rest of us! You're all charlatans! Charlatans!
These words are how you get sent on one of the most important (and most difficult) missions of your life. Your life is relatively uneventful until the morning when Mrs. Daruna Argando, a noblewoman known for her immense wealth and influence, enters your shop, seeking help for her dying grandson.
Will you be able to save her suffering grandson from a terrible fate and figure out what really happened to him? After all, regular people don't stay asleep for weeks...
FEATURES
Play as an alchemist! Manage your shop, help people, and even try to brew a potion in a small mini-game!
Pick your first and last name, and choose your pronouns.
Choose your personality and see how it affects some of your character's responses.
Choose and name your very own familiar.
Pick one of the four elements and see how it changes your magical reactions in dire situations.
Help and old dwarven woman and her grandson, who's been asleep for the past few weeks.
Fight against a monstrous beast!
Start a romance with a kind priestess or a sarcastic enchanter, or choose to remain single.
Drink lots and lots of tea!
Play The Alchemist on itch.io right now!
457 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 12:11:06 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
#my 2021 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#it's kinda funny#or is it?#yeah#it mostly is#how come The Alchemist is more popular that ToEN 0.o
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MK X Pacific Rim AU Concept
You ever get an AU idea in your head and go absolutely feral for a bit putting it all on paper? Me neither, until now! This isn’t so much a fic as just a detailed wiki-style outline, but hopefully it will still be fun to read! I had a ton of fun figuring out how to translate all these concepts and backstories into the PR world. If anyone feels like doing anything with these ideas they’re absolutely welcome, just please credit me and link back to this post if you do! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write this into some massive longfic, but I definitely hope to do some shorts in this ‘verse.
I brainstormed this with a bunch of people, and got some fun ideas from @sxvethelastdance, @bastardsunlight, and @fallen-angel-lucifer- thank you guys so much for humoring all this!
Pan Pacific Defense Corps Marshal Raiden was a legendary Mark 1 pilot dating back to when the program was first launched. Based out of the Shatterdome in Tokyo, he and his brother Fujin, in their Jaeger Thunderbolt Gale, were the first line of defense from Kaiju attacks headed westward from the breach for five grueling years. However, they met their match in Motaro, the first Category 3 Kaiju to make landfall on Hokkaido, and when Fujin was torn from their Jaeger and killed, Raiden was forced to take down the creature solo- a feat replicated only twice since. The physical and emotional toll of that day led to his retirement from active combat, but he remained in the PPDC as a commander, as well as a mentor of other pilots. When the Jaeger program was decommissioned, he was the last one to retain his faith in it, and took up leadership over the few remaining Jaegers at the Shatterdome in Hong Kong for one final stand against the Kaiju.
Current Pilots:
Liu Kang and Kung Lao
Jaeger: White Lotus
Original base: Hong Kong
The home base heroes of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, pilots Liu Kang and Kung Lao are the top graduates and darlings of the Wu Shi Jaeger Academy. Raised together in a martial arts sect before the first breach and drift compatible since their ranger training began, they are nearly inseparable- though Kung Lao has never quite forgotten how Liu Kang's scores just barely edged out his own in their individual skill assessments, and he strives constantly to prove himself his partner's equal (despite Liu Kang's insistence that such competition is unnecessary). Their Jaeger, White Lotus, is a well-rounded, powerful machine, featuring high-powered flamethrowers, as well as a system of fuel vents that allow it to set its fists alight and heat them to brutal temperatures in close-quarters battle. For ranged combat, it utilizes a circular blade mounted to its head, which can be thrown like a boomerang with enough force to slice through buildings.
Kitana and Jade
Jaeger: Edenia Glory
Original Base: Lima
Interplanetary refugees, Kitana and Jade escaped to Earth after their homeworld was attacked and overrun by Kaiju invaders. Their spacecraft crashed in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, and though they immediately searched for civilization in order to warn Earth’s people of what was to come, the first wave of attacks had already begun. After making their way to Lima, they volunteered to put their combat skills and close bond to use as rangers in the South American Jaeger program. Together they have defended the coasts of Chile and Peru since the Mark-2 days, though between battles, they spend their time in communication with the PPDC and the U.N., sharing what information they can about the Kaiju and other alien life previously unknown on Earth. Their Jaeger, Edenia Glory incorporates technological elements from their original planet not used in any other Jaeger, and is lithe, fast, and deadly, with a style focused primarily on precision bladework rather than hand to hand brawling. Its name is a tribute to their lost homeworld, and they use it to great effect to prevent Earth from suffering the same fate.
Sonya Blade and Jackson "Jax" Briggs (later Johnny Cage)
Jaeger: Flawless Victory
Original Base: Los Angeles
Both Lt. Sonya Blade and Maj. Jax Briggs had successful careers in the U.S military behind them when the first Kaiju came ashore and attacked San Francisco. Though at the time, Sonya was in the field pursuing the criminal Kano, she returned to the states when her friend and superior officer, Jax, suggested that they might be good candidates for the newly-formed ranger program. He proved to be right, and the two did time at the Shatterdomes in both Los Angeles and Anchorage, fighting off Kaiju from Canada to Mexico, and became well-admired figures within the military for their ascent. Though far from unscathed, the ostentatiously-named Flawless Victory is the last American Jaeger left standing by the time the program is decommissioned and is a tank of a machine, sacrificing some speed for the greatest physical strength of any Jaeger still on the field. Like the other American Jaegers, for long range combat it favors plasma cannons and explosives- particularly a ring-shaped plasma blast with wider coverage than the usual single beam- but it is at its most effective when delivering a crushing beatdown up close and personal.
Johnny Cage is the star of a popular series of action films dramatizing the battles of the Jaegers and Kaiju, and to many civilians at home, is as much the face of the Jaeger program as its real members. He has a secret ambition to become an actual pilot and has an impressive record in simulations, but because of his celebrity status (and his personality), Marshal Raiden and the other Jaeger teams refuse to consider him as a true contender. However, when a vicious fight with two Kaiju at once leaves both of Jax's arms shattered, taking him out of commission as a pilot for the foreseeable future, Sonya is forced to accept Johnny as her new co-pilot in order to keep Flawless Victory in the fray where it is needed. Despite her irritation with him, they turn out to be drift compatible, and become a formidable duo in their own right.
Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang
Jaeger: Phantom Vengeance
Original Base: Nagasaki
From the Nagasaki Shatterdome, the bright yellow Mark-3 Jaeger Shirai Ryu defended the coast of the Yellow Sea across three countries. Its building was overseen by its husband and wife pilots, Hanzo and Harumi Hasashi, and it was named for the legendary warrior clan from which Hanzo claimed descent. It was in service for four years, though Hanzo and Harumi always spent as much time as possible between missions with their young son Satoshi, who lived with them in their quarters at the base so that his parents could still have a part in raising him in a world that would not guarantee a reunion for families who choose to separate.
Across the sea based in Shanghai was an organization known as the Lin Kuei, a private military contractor funded by shadowy, unknown sources. Though its bread and butter was anti-Kaiju weaponry, it also began to develop its own Jaegers- the only ones outside the PPDC, created from illicitly obtained blueprints, and hireable for the right price. Its crown jewel was a small, stealthy machine called simply Sub-Zero, unique for its proficiency underwater and tendency to use coolant as a weapon rather than fire or explosives, and piloted by two brothers- Bi-Han and Kuai Liang.
When the massive Kaiju Kintaro directly attacked the Nagasaki Shatterdome, Shirai Ryu was the only Jaeger left to defend it. Desperate, the Hasashis attempted to contact the Lin Kuei, as they were closer than the nearest other Shatterdome in Tokyo. They received no response and were forced into battle alone, and though they prevailed, the price was too high- not only Harumi’s life when part of their cockpit was crushed, but Satoshi’s as well, buried in the wreckage of the base. In his grief, Hanzo blamed the Lin Kuei- particularly Bi-Han, with whom he had never gotten along- for what he perceived as a failure to act due to greed and amorality.
What Hanzo did not know that day was that they were experiencing the first double event in history, and Sub-Zero and the Lin Kuei were under attack by the Kaiju Sheeva at the same time. The Kaiju hivemind had figured out Sub-Zero’s usual strategy of attacking from the water, and were ready with an acidic bite that tore a hole in the cockpit, which rapidly flooded. After a similar failure to make contact with Shirai Ryu, Bi-Han was swept out into the sea and presumably drowned (though his body was never recovered), but Kuai Liang, despite a bleeding face and water up to his neck, managed to kill the Kaiju mere moments before Sub-Zero ceased to function.
After his release from medical, a furious Kuai Liang set off immediately for the remains of the Nagasaki Shatterdome to confront Hanzo for his failure to respond to the attack, since Shanghai was within Nagasaki's area of coverage. Both blinded by rage, they nearly got into a fistfight in the middle of the base, but once they realized what had truly happened, their anger cooled. They bonded over their grief, and the unfathomable experience of having to pilot a Jaeger alone after such loss- and in the process, discovered they were drift compatible, and that they both wished to continue the fight in retaliation for what the Kaiju had done to their families. Their new Jaeger, Phantom Vengeance, is a strange sight- constructed from salvaged pieces of both Sub-Zero and Shirai Ryu (along with some newer tech to fill the gaps), it looks as much like a walking ghost as its pilots. However, it should not be underestimated based on its appearance. Quick and light (for a Jaeger), it features a retractable grappling hook to drag Kaiju into the range of its blasts of powerful coolant, and a devastating grip to snap them like twigs once frozen.
Other Players:
After the destruction of Sub-Zero and the defection of Kuai Liang, the Lin Kuei concluded that the problem with the Jaeger program was the human element of drift compatibility, which limited the number of possible pilots and held them back due to concern for their partners in battle. Therefore, in secret, they began a series of horrific experiments, fusing subjects with their Jaegers to operate more like batteries than true pilots, and erasing their memories through drugging and electric shock in order to create blank minds that could operate together without the complications of emotion. Assassins Cyrax and Sektor, along with Kuai Liang’s close friend Tomas Vrbada, were among the subjects of this initiative, forced to operate a three-armed machine called Triborg.
Shang Tsung is a scientist, shunned from the academic community and at times running afoul of the law for his unethical- if not outright twisted- biological experiments. He and Marshal Raiden have crossed paths in the past, and though no one knows the details, their enmity towards each other is clear. However, in his desperation after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, Raiden had Shang Tsung brought from prison to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and gave him access to whatever parts he needed to find a way to destroy the Kaiju- by any means necessary. Shang Tsung agreed partly because of the money offered, but mostly because the world's destruction would throw quite the wrench into his own personal goals. (And maybe because it was deeply satisfying- and perhaps useful- to have the Marshal in his debt.) Where his allegiance will lie at the end of the day, however, is anyone's guess.
For such experiments, one needs a steady supply of Kaiju parts, and for contraband like that, Raiden had to look even lower- to the crime syndicate the Black Dragon, led by Kano and including his associates, Kabal and Erron Black. Though once mercenaries dealing in everything from illicit arms trading to assassination, the Black Dragon followed the money and and put all their resources into the trafficking of Kaiju parts. With demand so high, they have become immensely powerful, but their involvement with the PPDC in the name of greater profits ends up bringing Kano face to face with his old nemesis, Sonya Blade- with predictably violent results.
Nightwolf was the historian of the Matoka tribe, which had long ago predicted a great cataclysm that would bring about the end of life on earth. Though he had been skeptical that such legends were real, when that cataclysm came to pass in the form of the Kaiju invasion, Nightwolf was not content to merely await a prophesied destruction. He left home and applied for the ranger program, but although he trained toward being a pilot and had the necessary combat skills, he never found a partner with whom he was drift compatible. Rather than dwell on this with resentment, he pivoted his focus into other ways he could help, and found his place as a technician and LOCCENT officer. Transferred to Hong Kong after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, he was the rangers’ primary point of communication with the base while in battle.
Though most of the world fears the Kaiju, there are also those who worship them, and such admiration has evolved over the years into a full-blown religion. The shadowy high priest of this cult is Quan Chi, who claims that the Kaiju have been sent by the God of Death himself- to end the days of humans on Earth as we so richly deserve. Recently, a strange, hollow-eyed man calling himself Noob Saibot has appeared like a shadow at Quan Chi’s side, serving as his personal bodyguard against all threats and a fellow ardent believer in the inevitability of humanity’s destruction.
Mileena is a grotesque fusion of Kaiju DNA with that of Kitana, which was stolen against her will when she was injured and bled during the invasion of Edenia. She enters Earth as a general of the Kaiju, connected to their hivemind, along with the first Category 5 to ever come through the breach, Goro. Together, they intend to ensure the will of their creator and the ruler of the Anteverse- Shao Kahn- is carried out.
#mortal kombat#pacific rim#subscorp#hanzo hasashi#kuai liang#liu kang#kung lao#kitana#jade#raiden#sonya blade#jax briggs#johnny cage#mileena#kano#sub-zero#liulao#jadetana#cageblade#mortal kombat 11#noob saibot#fujin#shang tsung#nightwolf#shao kahn#quan chi#pacific rim au#god this is a LOT#and the formatting was a nightmare#the only series mainstay i couldn't figure out was baraka
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Gilded Cage - Part 5
I really need to get better at writing the choices, as once again a single choice got every vote. I suppose we all want the same thing for our poor whumpee ^^. Based on the votes, Villain will trust Sidekick.
Thanks to everyone so much for reading, once again!
CW// Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, (fantasy) steroids, pills, syringes, medical talk, extensive discussion of fire, not caring if one lives or dies, public events, restraints, comparing oneself to a doll/dog, endangerment of the public
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Villain felt their mouth grow horribly dry as they stared at the offered hand.
It would have been terribly simple to raise their hand. To accept. To go along. That warmth in their veins, it was begging them to do so.
But... It wasn’t what the Heroes would want.
They’d spent so long placidly following their will like a dog. Yet no matter how long their leash became, the very idea of going against the Heroes’ will felt utterly alien.
They weren’t stupid. This was a life or death decision, certainly. The question being, which choice would lead to which outcome. To that, they did not know the answer.
But it had been so long since they had said no, they were unsure if their lips could still produce the word.
And, somewhere, in a part of them long since beaten into submission, they knew they wanted to fight back. Even if they were going to die, they didn’t want to go quietly. It was a petty move, a pathetic death throe, but it did not matter.
Villain shook Sidekick’s hand. Yet, at the end of the gesture, they did not release their grip. Their gaze lifted, meeting that of their visitor.
“I trust you. But... But I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
Villain flinched.
“Uh, sorry. It means go ahead.”
“O-ok. I just wanted to know... who hurt me?” Their lips shook even as they spoke.
Sidekick frowned, hesitating a moment. Villain felt their palm grow clammy.
“I don’t know.” They finally shook their head. “We don’t know who hurt you.”
“It wasn’t Journalist?”
“I don’t... I don’t have any way to know that for sure.”
“Okay.”
“We can try to find that out but, there’s bigger problems, right now. We don’t have a lot of time. Do you remember the signal? What you need to look for?”
“When the sun disappears.”
“Exactly. Before you go on stage, also, um, take these.”
Sidekick moved their arm so quickly that Villain nearly startled. They dug in their pocket for a moment, removing a tiny plastic box, smaller than a thumbnail. They held it forth, offering it to Villain, who took it. It was awfully difficult to hold in trembling fingers.
“Can I open it?”
“Mhm.”
They did so, though it took considerable effort. Contained within were two small pills, each circular and vaguely peach in color.
“Pills.”
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, okay? They’re going to help.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. They’ll help.”
“Okay.”
“I need to get going now, okay? I am really not supposed to be in here in the first place. Don’t tell anyone I was here. This conversation didn’t happen, got it?”
“Got it.”
Sidekick nodded in approval, getting up from the bed as Villain tucked the pillbox below their pillow. The former reached the door, grasping the knob, before frowning again and turning back to the bed.
“Villain?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you don’t like Hero. And I know they’ve done some... not great things. To you and to others. But they’re not a bad person. They just want to do what’s best for everyone. I promise that they’re not as bad as you think.”
The next words were quiet, muttered so lowly that they could have been mistaken as a breath. But Villain heard them. They know they did, as they shivered upon hearing them.
“At least, I don’t want them to be.”
Sidekick shook their head, raising it and their voice in equal turn.
“So, just, please try not to hurt them. Please?”
“I- I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Okay.” Their shoulders slumped. “Don’t try to contact me. Everything will be okay.”
With that, the door opened and closed, and again, Villain was alone.
In the absence of pain, doubt welled in, filling the pit in their stomach where a personality once resided.
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The syringe did not hurt going in.
That was the most worrying part about it. It wasn’t that Villain was unused to the presence of needles-- every other week, they saw the in-house physicians at the base. Ensuring that they were strong enough. It was excessive, certainly, but Hero did not allow for surprises, especially not in any form that would show on-camera.
Thus, they had long since learned to stop their instinctive flinching away from the sharp prick. It wasn’t that. They felt the prick, yes, but it did not hurt. It was simply an emotionless report. Something had breached their flesh-- there was nothing more to it than that.
Maybe that was the whole point of the thing, they supposed.
Doctor, who seemed to have unofficially taken up the case, turned away to fuss over tools on a countertop. There was an awfully sorrowful air about them. They didn’t want to meet Villain’s eyes.
“How have you been feeling?” They muttered, seemingly paying only a cursory amount of attention.
“Fine.”
“Any pain?”
“No.”
“Numbness?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“That’s good.”
The physician turned, placing the buds of a stethoscope in their ears.
“Can you breathe?”
“I hope so.”
“Don’t joke.”
They kneeled down, in front of the uncomfortable plastic chair on which Villain was seated. The chill of the stethoscope’s bell could be felt even through their clothes; a soothing cold against an overwhelming warmth.
Villain hated the silence. The observations, the readings, all of it. People looking at them, examining every inch of them, yet not finding it important to tell them so much as what they were looking for.
They wondered, for a single humorous moment, in the Heroes had assigned a veterinarian to take care of them. One final joke.
Doctor stood back to their full height, removing the buds from their ears. Their lips pursed into a fine line.
“You’re terribly lucky, you know.”
“I know.”
“Your breathing sounds okay. It’s a miracle, by all accounts.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah...”
Villain placed their hands upon their knees, letting themself slump forward in the rigid seat. They cast their gaze downwards.
The warmth had been fading over the past few hours, if only slightly, but now, it had been refreshed to its full strength. Just another thing to fill in the spaces left behind by all the things they had lost. They hated the thought, and though it made them bite their tongue, they could not help but sometimes feel that the only things they had left were their name and their body. Both things that could so easily be taken.
“Doctor?”
Again, the physician had turned, determined not to gaze upon their patient.
“Yes?”
“Who hurt me?”
“That’s a very vague question.”
“Who shattered all my ribs? Who broke my leg? Who-”
“Okay. I get your point.”
“Do you know?”
“I-” Doctor bit their lip. “Yes.”
“Please. I want to know.”
“That’s classified. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”
“I can’t even know who’s killing me?”
An exasperated sigh, followed by the clicking of metal as Doctor put down their instruments, one by one. They turned, countenance downcast in despair. Villain sat up, leaning back, ready for all the world to be screamed at and shook. But the only noise was that of Doctor’s quiet tone:
“Hold out your hand, please.”
Villain did so. Doctor gripped it, interlacing their fingers in a way that sent a dulled shiver along their spine. It was a firm grasp, but not in a hostile sense.
“Warm it now, please.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Your hand. Make it warm.”
For a moment, they were struck by the absurdity of the request. No one could simply will a body part to heat or cool. When they realized that that assumption was wrong, they felt suddenly nauseous.
Their powers. They still had them, somewhere. Buried and long forgotten. A warmth not produced by syringes and injections, but by will itself.
“I don’t- I don’t have permission to do that. My powers are not to be used. I don’t even know if I can-”
“I have all the permissions. All the papers and whatever, I have authorization. It’s for medical reasons. For your health.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.”
Villain nodded hesitantly.
Digging for their powers felt like searching for the name of a childhood friend. A fact once comically simple rendered obscure. It was not where they had left it, not in the place that had once housed a fiery personality and sharp tongue. Instead, they found it buried, among memories and tears and pains long repressed. Among the images of what their face had once looked like, neck unmarred.
From the depths, they retrieved them. The flame struggled to find itself, at first. Flickering and sputtering. But, at last, it steadied itself, and its warmth crept outwards. Flowing into Villain’s palm, to the ends of their fingers.
Though slight, Doctor smiled.
“You make fire. That was all you were, once. Before they knew your name. The pyrokinetic. The arsonist. But you have not been that for a long time. And you are afraid of becoming it, ever again.
You are afraid of destruction. Of burning the foundations of the world until its roof collapses upon you. I know you are. Do not forget that I know you as well as they do.
Flame, it requires three things to be produced. Fuel, heat, and oxygen. You only supply the heat. Do you truly think warmth to be evil? Is goodness epitomized by living in frigid cold?”
It took Villain a moment to realize that they were being asked a question. They blinked, replying:
“I- No. It isn’t.”
“So, if warmth is not evil, then why are you?”
“I make fire-”
“You make warmth. Heat. The mother of all life.”
The grip on Villain’s hand grew stronger, firmer.
“I do not think that you are evil. Even if my opinion means nothing, I thought that you deserved to understand that. Do you understand?”
“I don’t know.”
“You will, I think. When it’s time.”
With that, whatever smile Doctor had managed to produce fell back to its frown. They turned, again.
“Doctor?”
“Yes, Villain?”
They hesitated a moment, their next words catching on the scales of their desert-dry tongue.
“Am I going to die?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I... I don’t know. Hero hasn’t told me yet.”
Doctor stiffened, but did not say anything. For a few moments, they sat once more in silence as the doctor shifted among their equipment. It was Villain who at last spoke up, tone quieter than the buzzing machines around.
“What was the reason, for holding my hand? What were you checking for?”
A chuckle.
“Nothing at all, Villain. Nothing at all.”
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If it was possible, Villain somehow managed to feel lonelier the three days after the incident than usual.
Out of all the things they had gotten used to, they wished desperately that the loneliness was one of them. It was a horrible, overwhelming thing. The only pain that still truly hurt.
Their life was simple, and by many accounts, comfortable. Certainly, the room in which they spent their life was comfortable. Plush blankets and soft mattresses, ivory bookshelves and televisions. Their choice of video entertainment was practically limitless, and their well-organized collection of books ranged from Stephen King to Jane Austin and back again.
It was nice. Comfortable.
Every day, they would wake up, shower, get dressed, and... sit. Just sit. Staring at the television sometimes. Staring at a book at others. But always, they sat. Waiting.
They had long since stopped watching much in the way of TV. Watching the conversations, the love stories, the friendships... it all made them feel sick to their stomach.
At some point, they would be called to lunch. Their time to eat was limited, after which they would be returned to their room until dinner, when the same procedure was repeated. Such a rhythm was only accented by their press appearances, as well as frequent visits to doctors and hair stylists. Maintaining their appearance, or updating it if the current trends so desired.
They were lonely. Horribly, painfully lonely. They couldn’t remember the last time they had talked to a human being. A real one. Or, at least, someone who saw them as a human being, rather than a prop or a canvas. Even their interactions outside of their cage were stilted. Impersonal.
Impersonal, for as far as anyone was anymore concerned, they were no longer a person.
Those three days, however, had somehow managed to be worse. They felt with painful presence that they were no longer being contained, but hidden. Intentionally kept from view.
Their meals were eaten in their cell, now, and their media appearance the day after the attack had been short and nerve-wracking.
Now, on the fourth day, even being dragged from their room and taken to a car felt like a cause for celebration. The guards did not speak to them as much as they spoke orders, but that was okay. It was still speech, still words. That was enough.
The car was the usual one that they were transported in, shoved into the back seat and blocked from the outside by a wall of tinted windows.
At one point in time, in a time that now felt to be ancient history, there had been more security to the vehicle. A system of chains, on their wrists and ankles, securing them firmly to the seat. Once they were out of the base, the Heroes seemed to consider them more dangerous.
Of course, at that point, they were well aware that melting metal was well within Villain’s capabilities.
The metallic substance that Hero created, however, was an exception to that rule. They were unaware if the material had ever been given a name. It was a simple thing, appearing from air itself and being molded into any shape Hero so desired. That shape, from then after, could only be altered by its creator.
It was the only reason they had not simply melted off their collar and fled into the night. The device could not be removed except by those brutish hands.
The same material was used in those shackles that secured them to the seat. They were still there, hanging, useless. Their physical purpose was now secured by a psychological one.
Villain buckled themself in.
The driver was a nobody, one of the many employees that the Heroes maintained on their payroll. Villain wished nothing more than to lean back in their seat, to relax. But they knew that that wasn’t going to happen.
As soon as they had heard the guards’ footsteps outside their door, they had shoved Sidekick’s pillbox into the very bottom of their pocket. Now, they felt it digging into their leg. A tiny, horrible reminder.
Today, they could not relax.
They had spent so long pondering. They were under no obligation to go along with Sidekick’s plan. They had given their word, yes, but their words meant nothing. Their voice was a vector for scripts, and their agreement had not been scripted.
It would be so simple. To get up on stage, perform their tricks, and get off. Keep on the straight and narrow path that they walked so religiously.
In the pit of their stomach, it was what they wanted to do. But the very thought of going back to that cell, of living like a good, well trained mutt, made them feel even sicker than the thought of punishment.
The drive to the event center was not a long one, though it was made considerably more difficult by the throngs of vehicles belonging to both civilians and the press, filling the streets with the smell of gasoline. Originally, the conference had been meant to take place in a local auditorium, but overwhelming demand had switched the venue to a full-on stadium.
Instead of moving to the front parking lot, when the car made it to the building, it instead maneuvered around a small, blocked-off side street, to a lot where only a few vehicles were parked, all marked with the logo of the Organization of Heroes.
Villain’s door was not locked, and they opened it on their own, moving unsupervised and unfettered to the performers’ entrance. The Heroes got out of their own vehicles in turn, moving at their own paces towards the entrance. Watching them, but not exactly closely.
Inside the back entrance was a throng of activity. Cameramen and organizers and makeup artists. A few of the latter began drifting towards Villain, but they did not think that they could stand that overwhelming touch. Not today.
Behind them, the Heroes entered, though they did not speak. They would issue their orders when they were needed.
The minuscule pillbox in their pocket made its presence known by shifting against their leg, sending a dulled shiver through Villain’s spine. Half to escape the approaching artists and half to comfort their own nerves, they quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom.
The cool air and the sound of their feet on tile at least did something to help the warm numbness flooding their fingertips.
Again, Villain could not stop themself from looking in the mirror.
They recognized their face even less. The makeup work to restore their appearance had been extensive, and even now, they felt almost to be staring at a doll.
That’s what they were, wasn’t it?
They wanted to scream.
Instead, they turned on the water, as cold as they could make it, running their hands under the faucet. The second the liquid struck their skin, it fizzled and turned to steam, quickly obscuring the image in the mirror.
Villain breathed as deeply as they could with numb lungs. They willed the heat to retreat from their palms, for the flame to calm itself, but the steam only billowed hotter.
A knock sounded on the door. The steam turned to flame.
“Villain?” A voice called. One of the Heroes. “Are you in there?”
“I’ll be out in a second.” They replied, moving quickly to flush the toilet before returning to the sink. That seemed to satisfy the hero enough, their footsteps heading away.
Their face could no longer be seen in the mirror on account of the fog.
Villain felt their own shaky hand move to their pocket, removing the pillbox and prying it open. Those little round things stared back at them.
They had a choice to make, and for the first time, they made it for themself.
The pills tasted like nothing, dryly sliding down their throat.
Starting from their chest and flooding outwards, they felt the warmth of numbness transform into something hotter, something sour that tore at the edges of their veins. They moved to the toilet, attempting to flush the pillbox, but found that the plastic had already melted in their hand. They washed it down the sink drain, even as the handles warped beneath their fingers.
Villain trembled.
They hadn’t used power enhancers before, had never had access, but the feeling...
Even without looking in the mirror, they knew they were smiling.
It felt like being a villain again.
The doorknob flinched away from them as they turned it, heading back out into the fray. They hardly look at the Heroes who whisked them away, hurriedly instructing them as they hurried towards the stage.
“Just let Hero do the talking.”
“We don’t need your input, this time.”
“Just smile.”
With that, they opened the backstage entrance, and headed up. The stage was relatively makeshift, the kind used when bands performed in the stadium. Despite its lack of permanent nature, the stage lights were sweltering, their heat overwhelming as soon as the door was opened.
Villain loved it.
Wait- What were they thinking?
As the Heroes moved onto the stage, an overwhelming cheer erupted from all sides. When Villain did the same, they were met with concerned muttering.
They gave the widest smile they could.
The stage was open to the air, the fresh air making them feel as though they could finally breathe. They moved to be at Hero’s side, beside a podium.
Of course they were nervous. Performing always made them nervous. Perhaps it wasn’t stage fright, but they always remained terrified that they would make a mistake.
It helped, somewhat, that the bright sun overhead prevented them from seeing the stadium seats that surrounded them. The glare was simply that strong.
The sound of microphones turning on pierced Villain’s ears as they stood at Hero’s side and smiled.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here today.” Hero’s voice was so charming that Villain almost thought, for a moment, that they were kind. “We are so grateful for your concern regarding recent events. I would like to begin by pointing out that, as you can see, Villain is just fine.”
They laid a hand upon their shoulder.
“We are well aware of the rumors of their death. They are completely unfounded. Their recovery is advancing quickly. But that does not mean that they were not harmed, and that does not mean that a criminal is not on the loose.”
A grumbling, groaning noise filled the air-- the breathing of an ancient beast. It took Villain a moment to realize that the noise was coming from above, though looking upwards made them flinch against the sunlight.
The stadium roof, with horrible slowness, ground inwards.
Hero looked up, smile still well on their face. With a joking tone, they stated:
“Looks like we’re expecting some rain. No worries, folks.”
No worries.
Villain felt their weak heart skip a beat in their chest.
They were waiting for the sun to disappear. The throbbing of blood in their veins quickened.
Still with agonizing slowness, the roof, bit by bit, cut out the sunlight-- and more importantly, its glare.
Row by row, person by person, Villain watched as the stadium seats were revealed, along with their occupants. Some were reporters, newspeople, but the majority were civilians. Dressed in casual clothes. Young and old, smiling and frowning, and all innocent.
The roof got louder as it reached its half point.
Heat pumped in their veins with such a force that they worried it would break through their flesh.
They understood, now, what Sidekick wanted. They had asked for chaos, and had given Villain these pills...
They wanted a scene, certainly, but more than that, they wanted a show.
Sidekick wanted Villain to destroy this place. To light the stadium ablaze. They were sure of it.
The roof continued to close, only a hint of sunlight peeking through.
More people. Almost every seat was filled.
Villain felt heat gather in their fingertips.
They swallowed.
Were they a hero, or a villain?
What was the real difference?
The roof closed, and the sun disappeared.
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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!
There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!
I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes. This time, I do not have any questions to go along with the options (mostly just cause I couldn’t think of any oops,) but feel free to add any ideas you would like!
The choices and questions for this part are as follows:
A) You are a villain, go through with the plan and burn the stadium
B) You are a hero, continue the press conference as normal
@whumpilicious has recommended a third option for this choice:
C) You are an antihero, attack Hero specifically
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^
#whump#whumpee#whumpblr#whump community#whump tumblr#villain whumpee#hero villain whump#hero villain prompt#hero whumper#gilded cage#choose your own adventure#choose your own whump
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Fire and Rain
First Aruani Snippet! thank you all for submitting prompts!
AO3 ~~
Pairings: Armin x Annie
Words count: 2212
Summary:
Fire
Igniting from within herself
Rain
Pouring, cold on her skin
And just like any other human, she has a limit as well.
She cries, on their bed, alone.
Until the door creaks open, and he walks in.
Annie is facing a new feeling that she never experienced before, jealousy, and her insecurities only fuel it.
However, Armin knows exactly how to blow these insecurities away.
And so he does.
Unfamiliar.
Foreign.
The shiny-new novelty of it is shocking, unexpected.
And yet there she is. No denying can change it, no distractions can tame it.
The fire inside her unbearably massive, flames dancing to the drums in her chest, beating with every breath she takes, pouring more fuel on it, breathing rage into it.
She doesn’t want it to extinguish.
The fire seethes and scathes, boiling inside of her, threatening to spill out of her, burning down their bed, their room, their whole house, out the door and all around the neighborhood.
She wants the whole world to hear her screaming pain, she wants it to burn and crumble and shred into pieces.
Just like her.
Her insides screamed until their throats bleed. When no sounds came out, their fury trekked to their hands, legs, fuming and thrashing everything into dust, destroying everything with their wild rage.
And the fire burgeons, devouring her whole, until she is swallowed in red, an angry orange, and straying, out-of-their-place golden sparks.
Those golden sparks that glimmer in shades of red.
Matching the red spark in her eyes.
The pouring, salty rain, spilling out her eyes, unhurriedly putting the fire down. Cold tears that went down her cheeks, onto their pillow, left nothing but a confined fire underneath a wet, burnt land. The smell of rain drops with the char pungent to her nose, unbearably painful to breathe, impossible to breathe.
Her jaw clenches, teeth rubbing against each other, turning into soft heaps of bones in her mouth.
Her chest heaves as more tears squeeze their way out her eyes, down her face, glistening under the moonlight that filters through their window. Blue waterfalls, grey ribbons of silk. The moon comforts her, draining all colors from the world, layering it in a blanket of greys, making every living creature scurry into their caverns, hiding spots, ceasing life for a few hours. Falling into a mourning, silent choir.
She squeezes her eyes shut, she can’t bear it, she can’t, she can’t she can’t.
But she did.
For a few, agonizingly long months, she did.
She kept it all inside, decaying under its pressure, but here she is, in their bed, alone.
I’ll stay late,
He said,
you’re tired, go rest.
He said,
I'll follow once I'm done.
He concluded, before going into a dim lit office, closing the door behind. She only had a glimpse of who waited for him in that room.
She waited, in their bed.
The trance of getting home, undressing, showring, eating, all but a forgotten blur.
Cold, their home was cold, the warmth sucked out of it, while outside, the heat of summer frayed the grass into long, feeble golden sticks.
She’s too pretty, Annie thought, I can’t compare to her.
Long, dark hair, black obsidian eyes, tall, her skirt tight, highlighting the curve of her wide hips, curvy body. Intelligent, her smartness over throwing Annie's with no doubt. Her speeches, words, resonated in the halls of the conferences, long after she said them, their effect lingering in everyone’s mind.
She is everything Annie isn’t.
Annie buries herself deeper into the blankets, worrying that she might've lost him, that she stole him from her.
Then the door creaks open, a second of silence, apprehension, before it closes with a soft click. Another second of silence, then the sound of boots thudding on the carpeted floor, ruffles of clothes being taken off.
The sheets lift up, a warm body slides next to her. She brings the blankets closer to her face, squeezing her eyelids shut.
Then, slowly, warm hands wrap around her, his face at the back of her neck.
“I know you are awake,” he whispers, in her ear.
She doesn’t shift.
The fire in her battles with the rain, conquering each other, until they swayed, in harmony. Flames that danced to the rhythm of the rain drops. Tik tik tik, and the water does what it’s not supposed to do. Broadening the fire, encouraging it into a massive figure of infernal beauty.
His hands soft on her body, goes up, to her shoulders, wrapping around them, before reaching her cheeks, caressing them-
He halts, propping himself up on his elbow.
“Why are you crying?” he asks, his voice panicked, worried, he leans backwards, inspecting her from behind the blanket, “are you hurt? Is something hurting you?”
She doesn’t reply, her throat too tight to speak.
He calls her name, once, twice, when she doesn’t respond, he gets out of bed, walks to her side, and sits on the floor, his sight on level with her closed eyes.
He calls her name.
Her eyes flutter open.
Red.
A blue orb in a middle of a light red. He opens his mouth to ask about how long she has been crying, but nothing comes out.
He rests his hand on her shoulder, squeezing a bit.
Tell me
His eyes say
You can tell me
So she sniffs, tries to clear her throat, lifting her chin up.
She speaks, but he shakes his head; her voice slurry, alphabets sprawled all over the place.
He motions with his fingers; wait, gets up, goes out, a minute passes, and he’s back with a glass of water.
Cold, she thought, as she straightens in their bed, pulling the sheets closer to her chest. She takes the glass from him, nodding, not meeting his eyes.
He sits on the edge of the bed, silently watching her, as she takes tiny sips of the water, bit by bit, making it last for as long as she can, stretching a mere glass of water onto an excruciatingly slow seconds of a dreadful wait.
He’s patient, he has always been patient with her, giving her the time she needs.
When the water is drained to its last droplets, and there’s no escape, she speaks.
"How was your meeting?" She asks, she hates the hoarseness in her voice, she tries to clear her throat, but it only itches more.
Armin raises an eyebrow.
"How was it?" She asks again.
He sighs, finding no other solution but to answer her: "It went ok, too many paper work, which I despise."
"I could've stayed late and helped you, you know," her hand goes up to rub her arm.
"You were so exhausted, you've already done extra work today, besides, the new assistant was there and she was a great help, so it was ok."
Annie tenses, of course she was a great help.
"I never thought you would ever need an assistant," she says, and she tries so hard to not spit out the words.
"Neither did I," he amuses, "but, well, she showed up and honestly, she does know what she's doing, so I said, why not?"
"Because I could've stayed late with you instead of her," she lets out in one go, her words overlapping each other.
Armin furrows his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling.
When he doesn't reply, she repeats: "I could've stayed with you, I can be your assistant, I don't care if it's extra work. I could've stayed late with you."
She's looking around the room, watching everything except his eyes.
The dots connect in his mind.
A new assistant, staying late at work…
"Annie..." He calls out, the wrinkles in his forehead curving upwards as his eyebrows rise.
You're jealous, he thinks, but doesn't say out loud.
He sighs, crawls onto bed. Annie curls on herself, turning her head away from him.
He sits in front of her, thinking from where to start. He would've never thought, in a million years, that Annie would be jealous.
It’s ridiculous… how could she ever think about…
He scrutinizes her. Vulnerable, insecure, hugging herself, avoiding his eyes.
If anything, he knows that Annie isn’t a woman of word.
With that in mind, he starts by kissing her knee, despite the blanket covering it. She swivels her head to him, confused.
His kisses go up, kissing her thighs. He murmurs against the fabric: "Annie..."
Her name on his tongue, low and careful, each syllable pronounced with fragile-cautiousness, a desperate need to call her out, feel her name tingling on his tongue.
"You're the only one who would ever have my nights," he says.
He kisses her stomach, "to have my mornings," another kiss, "my afternoons, my evenings."
She's silent, watching him.
He goes up, kissing her clothed chest, "You're the only one I want to wake up by her side," he kisses her collarbone, his voice dropping a few notches.
He feels Annie swallowing.
He shuffles closer to her, kissing her neck, he whispers: "you're the only one who will ever touch me," one of his hands resting on her waist, while the other propped him up.
He kisses the spot underneath her chin, the skin soft on his lips, he says: "You're the only one I want to laugh with," another kiss, "cry with," a third kiss, "smile with."
He closes his eyes, his raw, genuine feelings pouring with every word, every touch.
"You're the only one I want to be with,"
He's kissing her face, her eyebrows, her cheekbones, the corner of her lips, her forehead, tasting salt from her tears. He doesn't know when she started crying, but he knows that she's hurt, vulnerable, and that is all he needs to know.
He wraps his arms around her, bringing her closer to him.
Hugging her tighter, never letting go.
Until he feels her arms wrapping around him, hugging him back, that's when he pushes his weight onto her, toppling her balance, landing on top of her.
She gasps, and he swallows the sound as he kisses her, lips on lips, tasting more salt, pressing his lips harder onto her. He kisses her with incomparable delicacy, touches soft on her body. Her lips warm, her cheeks cold.
He cups her face, wiping the tears, her skin glimmers where tears once were, leaving two silvery traces, meandering down her cheeks. He kisses them, slow, one by one, drawing it with his lips, until she relaxes against him.
Then hands happen, and they're on each other, skin on skin, in the quiet of the night.
He breathes her name out through it all, engraving it on the folds of her mind, for it to stay there for as long as she lived.
He wants her to hear his heart beating to the rhythm of her name on his tongue, each time he says it, his heart pulsating life through him, into his veins, into his hands that caress all over her body, memorizing every dip of her skin, every ridge of a bone. Her chest heaving under him, erratic breathing, and yet, she doesn't utter a word.
She lets him show her his words, blowing life into them, show her that he is only for her.
He gladly does.
He tells her that she's the only one who makes him feel this way, as he kisses down her neck, he tells her that she's the only one to touch him like she does. He whispers that he can't imagine anyone else doing what she does to him, that no one can make him feel the way that she does.
Then the first word slips out of her mouth, mixed with a sob.
It's his name.
Armin Armin Armin
She repeats his name, over and over, other words getting lost in moans and cries, and he savors it all.
After he made sweet love to her, once, twice. Gentle and soft. He kisses her neck, but she stops him, and he takes it as a sign.
He engulfs her in his arms, carrying her to the bathroom, where he runs the bath. Steam emits from the bath as she slowly tip toes into the warm water, he follows suit, sitting behind her, her back pressed onto his chest.
He washes her hair, her body, compliments falling off his tongue, gorgeous, pretty, an angel. She turns her head, rose dusting her cheeks.
When she wants to return the favor, he only pushes her hands, telling her that he got himself covered, so she sits on the stool by the bathtub, watching him rinse himself under the spray of the shower, his hair slick and wet, his shoulders broad, arms sculpted with muscle.
He acts like he doesn’t notice her stare.
He steps out the shower, then wraps her in a towel, before wrapping himself.
Not long after, he covers her in their blanket, tucking himself beside her, hugging her bare frame to his chest.
He kisses her forehead, tells her that he loves her, and he did for so long, and will never cease to a stop.
Because she is the spring in these emotions, and the thought of her on his mind had kept him going for years, and to have her in his arms… would be enough to live the rest of his life with his eyes on no one but her.
She smiles, planting a kiss on his bare chest, tangling their legs together.
He chuckles, and her heart flutters at the sound.
He rests his chin on her head, pulling her even closer to him, and like a mantra on his tongue, he whispers her name until sleep takes over him.
#Aruani Snippets#aruani#armin x annie#armin arlert#annie leonhart#aot#snk#writing#fanfiction#snk fanfiction
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Become the Beast
Alright! So, No Content November is officially over. To break the spell, I am posting this.
Huge Thank you to @thepanakinanakin and @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for reading this every day when I wrote more for it. Seriously. This would not be here without your support and spitballing.
Summary: A Suitless!Vader x Reader fan fiction based off the song Become the Beast by Karliene. It takes place after the fall of the Order as Reader struggles to carve out a life without the guidance of the Order. It’s a discussion of fate versus the will of man, and whether we can run from our destiny. It’s got love, it’s got an unlikely friendship, it’s got angst, and a lot of OCs and adventures. It’s essentially like I took one-sided pining to enemies to lovers and dosed it with crack.
Word Count: almost 23k. I’ve literally been working on this the entire month of November.
Main Ship: Suitless! Vader x g/n Reader (truly Gender Neutral).
Warnings: Um. Violence/fighting. It’s got a lot more action in it than I originally planned. But it’s not like its anything that SWs HASN’T done before.
With one order, the world was in shambles. The balance was shifting. Where once there was light, there was now an all-consuming darkness like hundreds of candles that once burned brighter than the sun were snuffed out with precision and without mercy. Cries of agony could be felt like a ripple through the force, washing over you with an intensity that sent you to your knees. You held your head with one hand as your heart hammered in your chest. Kenobi and Skywalker must have failed. Your men called out for you, but you knew you couldn’t trust them. Hot tears stung your eyes as you felt that in your bones. The Order was over, your Master was dead, and you would be, too, if you didn’t get out of there.
Placing a hand on the dusty ground, you slowed your breathing and listened, letting the force tell you all you needed to know. They were coming for you, but there was a city ahead with a spaceport. Rising to your feet, you took your braid in your hand. Your trials were to commence soon, but that didn’t matter now. You were no longer a Jedi, and no longer a Padawan. Taking your lightsaber from your hip, it felt heavy in your hand. Heavy with the knowledge that this war had destroyed everything the Order stood for. How many things had been destroyed with this saber? You mused as you turned it over in your hand. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. It ignited with a flash of light and with one fell swoop, it severed the last tie you had to the Order. To your Master. It barely made a sound as it landed on the scorched earth. Deactivating your weapon for what might be the last time, you replaced it on your hip before running, never looking back.
By the time the clones arrived to your last known position, it was too late. You were gone. The only thing left was the severed Padawan braid lying forgotten in the dirt.
You had ran that day, and in a sense, you never stopped. You were running from the Empire, from your past, afraid it would catch up to you. From world to world, you ran, taking the odd job here or there to afford fuel for your next adventure. If you could call it that. You never stayed in one place too long, too afraid you’d get attached. Attachments were bad, but not in the way the Jedi had taught you. Attachments meant you’d care about what happened when you were gone. You’d hear the boots of the stormtroopers on the ground as they ran their drills in the morning and you’d worry about the locals if you stayed too long. A few rotations here, a sabbatical there... never a full revolution on a planet. Your mind was always ten steps ahead of your feet, trying to stay under the radar. It was a game you played with the Empire, not that they knew you were playing. A wry smile crossed your face as you realized this. After all, wasn't that what the Clone Wars were? A game that the Jedi were pawns in, not even realizing they were playing. Not even the Chosen One had been spared, having fallen on Mustafar.
You didn’t mind running, after all, you had gotten good at it. However, the ache for a home was apparent every now and then. A glimpse of a family here, or a group of friends there would send you into a deep reverie. You had had that once. Now, it was a luxury you couldn’t afford. It was an isolating life, but it was your life, running like a scared animal separated from its pack. Possibly the last of its kind. No, you weren’t the last. Somehow you could feel that much. There were still flames out there, but like yours they were muted, masking themselves from the Empire the best they could. Although there was strength in numbers, there was also safety in solitude. It was an unspoken law amongst the survivors. Worlds were not big enough for two, not when there was a target on your back. Still, looking at the families you’d seen along the way made you miss your own. Deep down you longed for the safety of the Temple and the support of a Master to guide you. Without both you felt like you were drifting in space, running blindly into the night in the hopes that you’d make it to dawn without being hunted by the predators that thrived in the dark.
Your latest planet was quiet. Almost too quiet. The air was charged with anticipation, like they knew something you didn’t as you walked around the open air market. The citizens were tense, which put you on edge. Tension settled into your back, pulling taut across your shoulders as you pulled your hood further down your face to obscure you. You quickly placed your credits in the outstretched hand before taking your fruit and placing it in your pack. You were too exposed out here. Something told you that you should hide, like warning bells going off in your head. The hair on the nape of your neck stood up. That was when you heard it.
Footsteps.
They resounded in the distance, steadily drawing closer. Multiple feet in time with each other as they pounded the ground in a march. You could hear the unmistakable whines overhead.
TIE fighters.
Kriff.
Taking a settling breath, you analyzed your surroundings. Fighting your way out of this was not something you were prepared to do. You’d just make your way towards the spaceport as quickly as you could. It would be fine. Pressing your back against the building, you prepared to blend into your surroundings.
That was when you felt it. A dark, coldness creeping into your bones. It was a presence larger than life that you had never felt before. It was overwhelming, debilitating almost. Your hand reached out for the stone wall behind you, grabbing it to catch yourself as the force signature of this being almost sent you to your knees. Never had you felt such power. Never had you felt such anger. There was a rage in that presence that threatened to consume.
Shots rang out. You glanced up to catch blaster fire being traded between the local pocket of rebels and the imperial stormtroopers, their uniforms so tauntingly white, like they weren’t created with the blood of the people. With the blood of the galaxy. Blood that was going to be spilled now. Right here. In front of your eyes as you watched normal citizens getting caught in the crossfire. A father and a child ran from one booth to another, trying to make it back to the arms of the mother in the doorway across the square. You turned to the side as you heard him get gunned down, dropping the child to the dusty ground.
A familiar sound came next, a sound you hadn’t heard in years, but recognized instantly. The hum of the blade was steady and red, bleeding rage. You could feel it coming off the blade in waves. The blade was drawing closer to the child.
“Give him to me,” the man instructed. Turning your attention back to the child, you noticed the mother had come out of the sanctuary of their home to hold the crying child close to her. A mother’s first instinct was always to protect.
“Never,” she rasped out, staring at him with an unwavering gaze. Her courage was formidable, but you knew what would happen next, what always happened next.
Letting out a shaking breath, you straightened, prepared to run. You were always running. Scrunching your eyes shut, you remembered your teachings. You remembered the younglings at the Temple that you had helped train. Invisible tendrils from the past tugging at you, guiding your motions like a marionette. Feet moved on instinct, arms swung on their own accord until the hiss of a connection could be heard.
Your eyes focused on the feet in front of you as the heat from the interlocked blades warmed your face, casting you in a dangerous red glow. Your eyes trailed up the body of the opponent in front of you until you locked eyes. He was handsome, in a distracting way. His hair whipped around in the breeze as a twisted smirk settled on his face. He was as ferocious as a lion, drawing you in, yet holding you in place as he stared into your soul. Forbidden, yet wanted.
“Padawan,” he purred, “Where’s your braid?”
“I cut it off. I had nothing left to learn,” you ground out through gritted teeth, pushing back with all your might. He had the upper hand without effort.
“Nothing left to learn, or no one left to learn from?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. He was testing you. The heat in his gaze stirred something within you, like a spark turning into a flame. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, or you’d be defenseless. Blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you conceded that match. He was still much too close for comfort. You needed to remedy that.
“Same difference!” You replied before using the force to push him back, knocking him a few feet back. How dare he? You thought indignantly. What right did this Sith have to mock the Order?
“Good,” he grinned, dropping his saber to his side. He looked at you with great interest. You were his prey and he was going to play. It had been so long since he’d had a formidable opponent. The way he stood exuded power, raw and crackling. You could almost feel the charge in the air, but that’s all it was, right? His power, nothing more. The way he stood, to any onlooker it would seem defenseless, but in truth he was setting a trap. “Get angry. It’ll make this more fun.”
He was goading you, and you knew it. You tried to breathe, exhaling all the anger bubbling in you threatening to spill over. A tenuous control over your emotions started to build, forcing your inner anger back into the rickety cage it was struggling against.
“Give in,” he murmured, watching your turmoil with great interest. “Feel the power.”
“Like you did?” you ground out. You knew exactly who this man was. You’d seen him in the Temple. You had even admired him, having had countless conversations with him at the Temple. He was just as captivating now as he was back then. His presence had always drawn you in, made you want more than you knew you should have. This man was everything you had wanted to be. You’d looked up to him. He had it all, but he had thrown it away. An irrational part of your mind added, threw you away. “You betrayed your own.”
“They were never my own,” he spat. “I was their savior, reluctantly.”
“Some savior you were. You killed them all,” you seethed before attacking. Your control was gone as the lives of your friends flashed before your eyes. His life flashed before your eyes. He could have been so much more than this. You could have been so much more than this, but this was what he had reduced you to: a lonely wanderer who lived hand-to-mouth. Your anger made you sloppy, but you managed to catch him off guard at first.
Trading blows, he was barely breaking a sweat while your chest was heaving from exertion. He was magnificent, and that was not lost on you. It was impressive, watching him move gracefully. His hair flowed like a mane around him. A wry smile crossed your face at the realization, a lion among man.
“You’re weak,” he taunted, pinning you with the force to a wall. “You have power, but you don’t know how to use it. How to control it. You’re unbalanced.”
“No, you’re wrong!” You called out, straining against his power. Memories flashed in your head to when he’d first pinned you against the wall during training so many years ago, but this was not the same. Your eyes locked with his as you swallowed. It wouldn’t end. Not like this. You lunged at him, swinging wildly with your arms. You weren’t unbalanced. You were one a Jedi. You were one with the force. Your swing missed, but his didn’t. The sting of the blade as it singed your shoulder made you grit your teeth as your knees gave out. You wouldn’t let this man see you cry out. You would not beg for mercy that you knew he would not give. His saber was lifted.
“Pity,” he murmured, reaching down to tip your chin up towards him. Locking eyes, you came to the realization that you were to die at the hands of the most handsome beast you’d ever met. Yet, all he could do was offer you a sad smile, and something else: a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but not at what he was about to do. “You could have been something.”
Blaster fire lit up the square, interrupting your battle. His face contorted into a grimace as he had to move his lightsaber to block the shots. Using the distraction, you scuffled back towards a building. Your hand blindly searched for a hold on the rough stone to push yourself up, staring back at him. Even when he was at a disadvantage, he was captivating. The way he moved as if the world were his to control was breathtaking. A pang of regret hit your heart. The two of you together could have been unstoppable. The brick cut your skin, but you didn’t care. It brought you back to reality. The reality that he was a monster, and most of all, he could never be yours.
“Come on,” a woman called out, wrapping a hand around your arm. “You can’t stay here.”
You looked up into the face of the mother you had saved. “I have nowhere to go.”
“I know a place,” she murmured, clutching her child to her chest.
You stared at her for a moment, listening to the sound of the skirmish outside. Then, you nodded. Anywhere was better than here. She led you to the spaceport. Rebels provided cover fire as they engaged with stormtroopers outside the hanger bay. You clamored up the ramp into the ship.
A woman with short red hair looked at the mother.
“You’ve brought a friend,” she murmured. “We were told it was just your family we were extracting.”
“I lost my husband,” the mother replied. “The amount of passengers is the same.”
The woman looked at you, studying you. Measuring you. But to what, you didn’t know. Her eyes settled on your lightsaber at your hip, widening slightly.
“Well, come on. We can’t stay on this world anymore,” the woman replied before pressing her comm link. “Pilot, get us out of here.”
“Right away, Senator,” a response came before the woman and the mother walked further down the corridor.
You looked down at the ramp as it closed. Although you couldn’t see the fighting anymore, you could feel it. You could feel his wrath as he lashed out at the rebels like a cornered animal, using his rage as fuel. They would all die. Their blasters were nothing in comparison to his power. He’d snuff out their lives like a shrine of candles in a rainstorm. Leaning against the wall, you slowly slid down to the floor. Your legs could no longer hold you now that the adrenaline had worn off. You were tired, so tired. Your shoulder cried out in pain, but worst of all was the knowledge of what was happening below on the planet as you felt the ship rise from the ground. Tears flowed freely at all that was lost today.
You had run for so long.
You had avoided the Empire for so long.
Now they knew you were out there, and you knew they would come looking for you. Your anonymity was gone. In the back of your mind, you heard his voice over and over again.
Weak.
You were weak. You’d gone soft. You were out of practice. Unbalanced. He was right.
Swiping the tears from your face with the back of your hand, a resolve etched itself on your face. Not for much longer, you thought. Placing your hands on your knees, you pushed yourself back to your feet, a phoenix rising from the ashes.
You ignited your saber, feeling its weight in your hand. The hum of the blade in tune with your soul as you closed your eyes. The next time you faced that beast of a man, you would be ready. There was a fire in your eyes as you deactivated the saber, placing it back on your hip. Your footsteps resounded, sure and deliberate as you followed the path the rebels had taken.
Rounding the corner towards where the mother and her child were seated with the senator before, you felt a watchful set of eyes on your entrance.
“I haven’t seen a Jedi in some time,” the woman said, as much to the mother as to you.
“They protected us after my husband was...” the mother trailed off as her eyes rimmed red, the words getting caught in the emotion in her throat.
“There was nothing you could have done,” the Senator told her, placing a hand on top of hers. “You and your child have had a long day. We’ll be arriving on Chandrila in a few hours. You should rest, Jynna. You’ll need your strength.”
Jynna nodded, sliding out of the booth with her child in her arms. She stopped in front of you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. “I could never thank you enough, Jedi.”
You swallowed the awkward lump in your throat at the praise, especially since you hadn’t planned on stepping in, and especially because you were not a Jedi. Not anymore. “Of course.”
Jynna gave you a sad smile, letting her hand drop to her side before leaving down the corridor.
After a moment of silence, listening to the woman’s retreating steps, the other woman cleared her throat. “Please, have a seat.”
You slipped into the booth across from her.
“Finding a Jedi in this current climate is like finding a kyber crystal on Tatooine,” the woman remarked.
“The Jedi no longer exist,” you replied, looking at the dirt under your nails from your fight.
“That’s what the Emperor wants us to think,” the woman replied leaning in. “I’m sure there are more of you than you know. You’re all in hiding.”
“What do you want us to do?” you shot back, “Come out into the open to be executed?”
“From what I understand, you were almost executed today due to your recklessness,” she replied.
Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
“Yet you live,” she added. She appraised you for not the first time that day. “We could use someone like you.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” you asked, leaning back.
“The rebellion,” she clarified.
“I already have a target on my back,” you sighed. “Why would I push my luck further?”
“Exactly,” she replied. “You already are a target, might as well give them a run for their credits. What else are you going to do? Go back into hiding on some back water world? The Empire’s presence is growing every day. Nowhere is safe.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” you asked. “Look, Senator, I’m not sure what you want me to be.”
“Just yourself,” she said, patting your hand. “You have so much potential, and you can make a difference.”
“Senator Mothma, we’ll be dropping out of hyperspace to refuel,” a crew member said, coming back from the cockpit.
She nodded to them. “Good.”
Then, she turned back to you, a bright fiery look in her eyes that rivaled her hair. “Think about it. You can no more run from who you are than night can resist the dawn. I’ll leave the ramp unlocked when we dock to fuel. The choice is yours.”
You watched as she slipped from the booth, heading back, presumably to where her chambers were on the ship. You stared at the table in front of you. You’d already decided you weren’t going to run anymore, and here you had an opportunity to help. The way she looked at you... it wasn’t as if you were just a Jedi. It was as if you were more than that. You were hope. Hope that, try as the Empire might, they could not erase every ounce of opposition in the galaxy. Join or perish. That was what you’d felt more than once today. First, with Skywalker on that dust ball, and now with Mon Mothma. The only difference was that the Empire would kill you for not joining, whereas the Rebellion would just leave you to your own devices. You’d learned today that those were not enough. At least, not right now.
You were being given a choice, a choice to make something of yourself, or the choice to fade away into oblivion. Earlier, your body had acted on its own accord, pulling you into the fray. Fading was no longer an option. To fade was to be complacent with an overlord taking over a galaxy and enslaving the very people you had once fought to protect. No, you were going to fight. You’d lend your hand to this Rebellion, and in doing so, it would make you stronger. It would make the people stronger to know that the Force was no longer wielded by just the dark side. Your destiny and the Rebellion’s would be entwined, feeding each other and making you both strong until the light could burn out the darkness.
A rumble could be felt through the ship as it landed on the fueling platform. You didn’t even get up from your seat.
“Welcome aboard, Jedi,” Mon Mothma said as she walked by the booth to talk to the pilot. “You, too, should rest. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to do once we land.”
You nodded, stalking back towards the cabins.
You found the room that Jynna had entered. Her child was asleep, curled into her. Jynna herself seemed to be having a fitful rest. A small sigh passed through your lips as you walked further into the room. Holding a hand out above her forehead, you concentrated on smoothing her furrowed brow. She’d have enough time to deal with the horrors of the day during her waking hours. There was no reason for her to suffer in her sleep as well. As her face settled into a smooth serenity, you let your hand drop back to your side before sitting on the bunk across from them.
Fatigue from the day hit you like a pod racer on Tatooine running into a canyon wall.
Weak.
A wry smirk settled on your face. Well, sleep will give me strength, you thought in amusement.
Flattening yourself against the mattress, the weight of your body settled into your bones. With each breath you expelled yourself until you were one with the Force. it was something you hadn’t done in a long time, unable to afford this level of vulnerability. It was in this moment that you realized you hadn’t rested in so long. Too long, your body cried out.
The Force gives strength. The Force restores. All are reborn in the Force if they learn to let go of their corporeal form. Like a bacta tank heals, so too does the Force. You allowed yourself to submerge in its icy depths, awakening in you a sensation that you had almost forgotten. Your eyes were open wide to the world, now, no longer content to just float along. You were prepared to swim. The pain in your shoulder faded the closer you got to the surface.
When you emerged from the Force, your eyes opened to the dimly lit cabin. Jynna was awake on her cot, cuddling her child as she watched you with great interest.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” you replied.
“When you became one with the Force,” she clarified, “What is it like?”
“It’s different for all,” you sighed, turning on your side to face her. “Just now it was cold.”
“Like a bath that you’ve left for too long?” she asked.
A genuine smile grew on your face, “In a way.”
She looked down at her son like she didn’t know him. “He has a gift. That’s why they want him.”
“The Order is no more,” you replied.
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t sought after,” she shot back, meeting your eyes.
“They won’t lay a hand on your son,” you stated, but it was more like a promise.
She nodded, brushing a dark brown curl out of her son’s face. “They’ll have to go through me first.”
You didn’t want to tell her that they had already gone through her husband. You didn’t want to point out that going through her would be child’s play. Instead, you made an actual promise. Turning your back to her, you murmured, “It won’t come to that.”
“You don’t like being called a Jedi,” she murmured.
“Because I’m not,” you sighed.
She let your truth hang in the air, but you knew it fell on deaf ears.
You stared at the wall of your bunk, listening as her breathing evened out and she fell back asleep. Closing your eyes, you did something you hadn’t wanted to do before. You began to remember. Not too much, no. That would be like ripping a scab off of a wound that barely healed. No, you remembered just enough, letting the wound breath before bundling it back up in bandages again.
The Temple had been a wonderful place to grow up- not that you remembered any other. You were sure that you had a family somewhere. A mother. A father. After all, how else would you have come to be? But, you didn’t know them. They were shadows in your mind, like they were backlit from the sun. Hazy. No, the people you remembered most from your childhood were the Masters. They were the ones who raised you, taught you everything you knew. Would you have been better off with a family? It was something you had wondered about after the Republic fell, but then you came to the realization that you had had a family, just not in the normal sense. Your lips tilted up slightly as you remembered the day you were chosen to be a Padawan. That had been the happiest day of your life. Your thoughts drifted to what your Master would think if they could see you now. Would they be proud? Or would they be disappointed? You didn’t know, and that bothered you.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you closed your eyes tight, willing the Force to take you over again into that sea of bliss and belonging. When it finally did, it was warmer this time, more familiar as it washed over you, wrapping you in reassurance.
When you woke next, the ship was touching down on Chandrila. The sky was a myriad of colors as the planet awoke from the night. As you walked down the ramp, you looked up at the yellow, pink, and purple that swathed the sky in an inviting glow. Your gaze felt the gravitational pull, taking in your immediate surroundings now. The planet reminded you a bit of Naboo and Alderaan in the sense that it had a significant amount of water and greenery. The architecture was white. A wry smile crossed your face. Pure. Untouched. If only the rest of the galaxy were as lucky.
Footsteps sounded behind you as Senator Mothma disembarked. She walked swiftly towards a nearby building. When the rest of the party followed, so did you.
Soon, you found yourself crowded into a lift and descending.
The doors opened onto a bustling operations center. Screens were alight with data points. Everyone had a mission, and idleness was not tolerated. After all, if the Empire never stopped, then why should they? It was like a swimming beast. If it stopped, it could die.
Jynna and her son were ushered off down a hallway. You moved to follow them, but Senator Mothma placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Not yet,” she murmured.
You turned your head to look at her. “What will happen to them?”
“We’ll keep them safe. The Empire will not get ahold of that child, or it’s mother,” she assured you. “Now, come. There is someone who will be eager to meet you.”
Your brow furrowed as you tried to decipher who she could be talking about as you followed her into a war conference room. The door shut behind you, leaving just you, the Senator, and a man looking down at a hologram projected up from the table.
“You’re late, Senator,” the man said, but there wasn’t a hint of animosity or annoyance in his tone.
“Yes, well, there were complications,” Mothma replied.
“Complications or complication?” the man asked, turning to look at her. His eyes settled on you with express interest.
Senator Mothma looked between you and the man before speaking. “Complications. Of the Sith variety.”
“Vader,” he muttered in disgust.
“They knew of the child,” Mothma informed him.
“How? Only the Jedi had this information,” the man replied.
“You know where they made their headquarters,” Mothma said pointedly. “Who’s to say they haven’t entered the archives and gained access to the information.”
“I was with Kenobi on that Sith planet. Only a Jedi can open one of their holocrons, just as only a Sith can open their devices.”
Kenobi? Your eyes widened. Now there was a name you hadn’t heard in a long, long time, and it was usually accompanied by...
“Skywalker was a Jedi before this. He could have opened it,” Mothma added.
The man looked down. “No. He’s too far gone.” When he picked his head up again, he looked straight at you. “What’s your story?”
“They’re a Jedi, Bail,” Mothma said, with a glint in her eyes.
“Is this true?” Bail asked, studying you.
You wanted to say no, but you could no longer run from that title anymore than you could run from yourself. “I was, before the fall.”
A wry smirk settled on Bail’s face. “The fall of Skywalker, or the fall of the Order?”
“Are they not the same?” you asked quietly. After all, losing Anakin had led to losing the Order, and to the rise of Vader.
He sighed, “I suppose they are. Are you here to help?”
“I’m here to train,” you replied. “I’ll help in any way I can while I do that. Vader bested me once. That won’t happen again.”
Bail nodded, admiring your determination. “Sometimes the best teacher is experience. Although, I’m not quite sure that hunting the galaxy’s boogeyman is the way to go about this.”
“You have your mission, and I have mine,” you replied. “If they both achieve the same goal, then does it matter how we get there?”
His brow furrowed, “In my experience, it is a thin line between that line of thinking and tyranny.” He looked back at Mothma, “I don’t need another Saw Gerrera.”
You looked at Bail. You couldn’t lose this opportunity. You felt it in your bones. This was the will of the force. You were meant to be here. You were meant to help. “Look, I just want peace in the galaxy. In order to do that, you have to stop Vader and the Emperor. I’ll do whatever else you want me to do. I’ll help in whatever way I can, but I need to stop him.”
Bail locked eyes with you for a charged moment before letting out a breath. “Alright, but our missions come first. If they just happen to coincide with your search for Vader, then so be it. I will not allow you to jeopardize the resistance by leading him to our door. If you poke the beast enough, he’ll attack. This is the only warning you’ll get from me.”
You nodded. “Yes, Senator Organa.”
“So you know who I am,” he said with an amused smirk.
“How could I forget?” you winked. “We never would have been allowed use of Toydaria without you and representative Binks.”
He nodded, “Well, Jedi, I think you better start training. I’m sure you’ll have an assignment soon enough.”
You smiled, turning to leave the two Senators to their plotting.
The base was bustling. Everywhere you stepped, you felt as though you were in the way. Eventually, you stuck to creeping around the walls until you were in a hall that was deserted. A look of curiosity came over your face as you started to open the doors that lined the hall. An empty bedroom here. A storage closet there. But then... then you found a wide open room, swathed in white. A control panel was set into the wall.
Your breath caught in your chest. You were familiar with rooms like this. In fact, you’d often trained in rooms like this. If you closed your eyes, you could almost hear your Master coaching you from the sidelines as the room moved around you. There was a glint of mischief in your eyes as you engaged the training program, dropping your bag on the ground and taking off your cloak you grinned as the room awoke around you.
It was like getting back on a speeder bike. You were rusty, but you were slowly reawakening your abilities. The more you moved, the more sure of yourself you became. You deflected the blasts that the training droids shot, trying not to destroy them. You didn’t want the Senators to get mad at you for busting their things. What you hadn’t noticed were the viewports that lined the tall walls at the top.
An audience had gathered as the members in the war room watched you. A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd.
“I thought they were all gone,” said one.
“My mother said they were legends,” whispered another.
“Maybe we have a chance now,” another dared to say.
Your hair stuck to your forehead from exertion as you bounded from moving platform to platform. When you closed your eyes, you could sense where they were going to be next. The force guided you. The prodigal child returning home to be welcomed with open arms.
Eventually, you reached the top platform, thus beating that simulator as your hand pressed the buzzer. You opened your eyes to find the members of the Rebellion staring at you. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath. Wide eyes looked at you.
Mon Mothma and Bail Organa exited their room to see the group staring at their new friend.
“Looks like the Lothcat is out of the bag,” Mothma smirked.
“So it seems,” Organa replied. “But, is the loth cat ready?”
“Why don’t you ask?” Mothma asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
Senator Organa wandered over to the intercom system and engaged it into the training arena.
“I have a mission for you,” he informed you. “Think you’re up for it?”
You swiped the sweat off your brow with your sleeve. “When do I leave?”
“Now.”
A grin broke across your face. “Good.”
Bail slapped a data card up against the transparisteel. You gave him a slight salute before jumping down to the ground. Once back on your own two feet, you picked up your bag and went back up to retrieve your mission.
“I’ll need a ship,” you told him after inspecting the data card.
“You speak as if you’re going alone,” Bail said in amusement.
“I’m not?” you asked in confusion.
“No. You’ll be a part of a team,” he replied.
“I can do this on my own,” you said adamantly. “If it’s a stealth mission, less is more.”
“And if you get captured for being a Jedi? Then who will bring the information home?” he countered.
“That’s not what this is about,” you said, stopping in your tracks. “You don’t trust me.”
“Trust is earned,” he shot back.
“You knew my people. You know what they stood for,” you replied softly.
“Skywalker stood for that, too, once. Now look at us,” he said with his back to you.
Point, Organa.
You let out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll go with a team.”
“They’ll meet you in the hangar bay,” he said as he started to walk away, but then he paused. “And, Jedi, may the force be with you.”
You clenched the data card in your fist before making your way to meet this new team.
The group that was waiting for you didn’t seem like much. You saw a human man in a flight suit, a blue astromech droid, a blue-skinned Twi’lek, and a Wookie.
“You’re the Jedi?” the Twi’lek woman commented.
“Can you be a member of something that’s disbanded?” the man asked.
You shot them a look.
“Fiesty for a Jedi,” the Twi’lek smirked. “Seems like your type, Gavyn.”
“Knock it off, Oon’sara,” Gavyn sighed. He thumbed towards the Wookie and astromech. “That’s Chitca, and the droid’s on loan from Senator Organa.”
“Droids are not property. He’s doing this because he wants to,” you murmured as you looked at the droid, studying him. Almost as if sensing your judgment, the mech came forward to meet you and tootled. A spark of recognition settled onto your face as you watched the rest of the team head up the ship. You, however, hung back with the astromech.
“Is your new home treating you well, little droid?” you murmured.
Artoo looked up at you before letting out a sad noise.
Resting a hand on his dome, you gave him a sad smile. “I know. I miss the old days, too.”
Artoo looked down and started up the ramp. You followed him before settling into a seat in the cargo hold to go over the data again. If trust was something that had to be earned, then, maker, you were going to earn it.
Once in hyperspace, the crew trickled back to where you were, sitting on their own makeshift seats. You could feel their gaze on you as you rested your arms on your knees.
“Credit for your thoughts,” you eventually ventured.
“You’re injured,” Gavyn murmured, pointing at the burn on your arm. “It looks fresh.”
“It’s a lightsaber, isn’t it,” Oon’sara said, but it wasn’t a question. “He did it.”
“What do you know of him?” You asked as your eyes flicked up to hers.
“We all have our score to settle with the Empire,” Gavyn replied. “The Emperor’s shadow is infamous. Few see him and survive. He’s a harbinger of death.”
“He’s just a man,” you replied, thinking of his face, so close to yours as you had locked sabers.
“Tell that to the people of Ryloth,” Oon’sara sneered. “If you even mention the possibility of him coming, the Imperials crack down on us.”
“Is that your ‘score’ then?” you asked.
“If I free the galaxy, then I can free my people,” she said.
You turned to look at the others. “And you?”
“The Empire killed my parents,” Gavyn replied. “They tried to stop them from roughing up the local civilian market. I was seventeen. Barely a man, but no longer a kid. I ended up on the streets relying on the goodness of strangers. That was how Senator Organa found me.”
“Where’d you learn to fly?” you asked out of curiosity.
“My mom. She was a cargo pilot,” he grinned. “Best at maneuvering out of a sticky situation.”
You turned to the Wookie who blinked in surprise. “You?”
She tilted her head before responding. You were glad you’d grown up in the Temple at that moment, being able to understand other languages always came in handy. “You should know about Kashyyk. When Master Yoda escaped at the end of the war, the rest of us were not so lucky.”
“He’s alive?” you asked softly.
She shrugged. “He was when he left Kashyyk.”
Artoo bumped your leg where it hung over the side of the crate.
“I already know your story, little droid,” you murmured, patting his head. He’d lost just as much as you had that day. Part of you wondered if he knew what his old master was up to. It was odd, having Anakin’s droid here. This might be the only piece of him you’d have left.
“But we don’t know yours,” Gavyn said, folding his arms.
“It’s simple, really. I was a Jedi on the run after the Order fell. I piqued the interest of some undesirable people, and now I’m helping the Rebellion while I look for them,” you shrugged.
“I’ve never heard someone refer to Vader as an ‘undesirable’ person,” Oon’sara smirked.
“He took everything from me,” you replied. Including Anakin, you thought. “I’d call that undesirable.”
“So you’re hunting him,” Gavyn said thoughtfully. “Revenge doesn’t sound like the Jedi way.”
“It isn’t revenge,” you replied. “It’s justice. It’s for freedom and peace. If we get rid of Vader, the Emperor loses his ace. It’ll be over then.”
“The Emperor will still exist,” Oon’sara pointed out.
“The Emperor is an old man,” you spat. The Emperor was nothing compared to the man you’d sparred with. Vader was a formidable match in battle, but the Emperor was weak, having to rely upon someone else to fight his battles for him.
“He’s a Sith Lord,” Gavyn countered.
“Do you know how to defeat darkness?” You asked, looking out a viewport as you reverted back to real space. The Lothal System’s sun came into view, warming your face. You turned back to them with a smirk on your face. “You turn a light on.”
The crew started to disperse, but Gavyn hung back for a moment, looking at you over his shoulder.
“You know, I always respected the Jedi. When things seemed bleak, they’d show up and save the day like heroes. It seemed inevitable that they would always win,” he admitted.
“Like the sun ending the night,” you murmured.
“Exactly,” he replied. “A spark of hope lights a flame. If you’re going to turn a light on, you’ll need a lot more of it.”
“A lot more of what?” you asked.
“Hope. One spark is a start, but it’s not enough on its own.”
Somehow you didn’t think he was talking about fires anymore. He turned and went back up to the cockpit to land the ship on world.
You looked down at the droid beside you who shuffled in anticipation. “You ready for some action, friend?”
He tootled an affirmative.
The landing went smoothly. Even sneaking onto the base went well. You and Gavyn stole some armor to maneuver Chitca like a prisoner with Artoo bringing up the rear. Oon’sara stayed with the ship, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
Walking in the white armor felt wrong. How many clones had died wearing this flimsy armor? Too many for you to count. Bile rose in your throat as you pushed that thought from your mind.
“Do you know where we’re going?” you asked Gavyn.
“Vaguely,” he replied.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you murmured as you entered a control room. “Artoo, plug in and see if you can find where the TIE schematics are.”
Artoo rolled forward, extending his arm until he connected to the interface. You peered down the hall, watching for troopers in order to cover the droid. You had no doubt in his capabilities. After all, you knew who he had once belonged to.
“We need to get going,” Gavyn whispered.
“Don’t rush him,” you murmured absentmindedly.
Soon enough, Artoo had the information you were looking for. It was located several floors below your current location. You opened the door and started down the hall with Artoo. Halfway down, you realized the others weren’t following.
“Where are you going?” you asked them.
“Chitca says there’s some Wookies in the detention level. We’re going to free them,” he said with a grin.
“Gavyn, there’s no time. This is our mission!” you replied, having been used to making hard decisions during the clone wars. You knew all too well that you couldn’t save everybody.
“Take Artoo and get the schematics. We’re going to free them. We’ll meet back up in orbit if we get separated,” he said with a reassuring nod, like everything would be fine.
You couldn’t fight the feeling of dread knotting in your stomach, but you knew you couldn’t stop this. You gave him a curt nod before continuing to run down the hall towards the schematics with Artoo rolling beside you to keep up.
Artoo let out a worried whistle.
“They’ll be fine, Artoo,” you told the droid. Silently, you added, I hope.
The base was a maze. You knew you’d be fine with Artoo and the force to guide you, but you were worried for the others. You found yourself down a hallway that looked just like the ones you’d been running through since you arrived.
“It’s a wonder they can find anything here with how uniform it is,” you muttered as you rounded a corner. You skidded to a stop in front of the door that Artoo said housed the information you needed.
After shooting a dubious look at Artoo, you reached out your hand towards the door. Closing your eyes, you concentrated on feeling the lock with the force, reaching into the circuitry to flip the switch and open it.
The door slid open, revealing a group of surprised imperial workers. They blinked at you.
“You’re not authorized to be here,” one of the officers said.
You raised a hand to try a mind trick that you hadn’t done in years.
“That’s not an imperial paint job,” another officer pointed out, hand poised over an alarm button. You had to act quickly.
“I am allowed to be here,” you murmured.
“You are allowed to be here,” One of the officers repeated.
“I am taking the TIE schematics,” you said, pushing your luck.
“You are taking the TIE schematics,” they repeated.
You shot a furtive glance at Artoo before going over to take the data pad from the holo-projector displaying the plans.
Tossing it to Artoo, you instructed him, “Keep it safe.”
He tootled an affirmative before you left. You weren’t going to kill them. It wasn’t necessary since you were able to trick them into helping.
“Come on, Artoo, let’s get going. We have to find the others,” you murmured as you ran towards where you felt they were. A sigh passed through your lips. “They better be okay.”
As you made your way back towards the flight deck, you saw a commotion up ahead. Gavyn’s ship was firing at the ground turrets as the Wookie prisoners were being led out into the open.
“Gavyn, this was supposed to be a stealth mission!” You shouted at the man as you caught sight of him on the platform below.
“Change of plans!” He yelled back.
“Oon’sara isn’t going to be able to land unless we take out the towers, Artoo,” you said to the little droid beside you.
Artoo rolled over to the port to plug in, giving you a sad whimper.
“Manual controls, huh?” you sighed. “That’s what I was worried about.”
Jumping down from the platform and onto the flight deck below, you skirted the fray, with your back to the wall, the imperial troopers barely noticed you as you blended into the shadows. Making your way over to the turrets, you listened to Artoo in your commlink telling you how to disable the guns.
“You’re free and clear to land,” you informed Oon’sara.
“Copy that, Jedi. Coming in hot for a landing!” she shouted back as the ship started to land.
On the opposite side of the flight deck, you watched the crew and the Wookies load onto the ship with Gavyn providing cover fire. There was a stretch between you and the ship that was rapidly filling with storm troopers as they called for reinforcements.
“Gavyn, there’s too many of them!” Oon’sara called over the comm as she did her best to shoot at them with the ship.
“We’re almost done,” Gavyn said, but they were surrounded by troopers who were picking them off one by one.
In his haste, Gavyn got clipped on the shoulder by blaster fire and doubled over in pain.
“Gavyn!” You called out as he reached up to hold his arm, limping back towards the ramp.
“We’ve got to go now, there are too many of them!” Gavyn told you over the comm, locking eyes with you as he backed up the ramp, barely being missed by the shots as the ramp started to close. “Get to a ship and rendezvous with us in orbit. There’s no time to argue.”
Your mouth was in a grim line as you nodded. Artoo rocketed down to the space next to you.
The troopers turned and spotted you.
“Look, there’s another one!” one called out as they opened fire. You engaged your lightsaber to deflect the bolts anywhere but where you were.
“Come on, Artoo,” you said, racing off towards an open transport ship. It was small, but it would do. The two of you got in and started up the ship. “Disable the tracking, buddy. We can’t risk bringing the Imps back to base.”
Artoo zoomed over to do as he was told as you started flight sequence, picking up from the ground. A voice came over the radio.
“Transport H359, you do not have clearance to leave base. On who’s authority are you flying?” the base command asked.
“Kriff your clearance,” you shot back, pulling back on the throttle to lift the ship off the ground.
“Engage tractor beam,” the radio voice announced.
You didn’t much like their news, so you shut the radio off. “Hold on, Artoo. Time for some evasive maneuvers.”
Leaning your body into it, becoming one with the craft, you rolled the ship through the air, avoiding the beam. They were so focused on you that it made for an easy escape for the team. Soon you were out in the space above the planet.
Artoo tootled something you could have sworn sounded like, ‘Now this is pod racing!’
“Well, so much for stealth,” Oon’sara snorted over the radio.
“At least we got what we came for,” you replied.
“And then some,” Gavyn added. You could hear the smile in his voice at the Wookie chatter behind him.
“Let’s just get back to base,” you said, but you had a smile on your face as well.
Setting the coordinates for the hyperspace jump, you were ready to go when a group of ships reverted out of hyperspace in front of you. A pit formed in your stomach as a familiar feeling of apprehension and darkness washed over you. He’s here, you realized.
“We’ve got to go, now!” you informed them hurriedly as a group of TIE fighters flew out of the hangar bay of the star destroyer in front of you.
“They’re blocking the path!” Oon’sara pointed out.
You scanned the field of view around you. “Move to quadrant 6. You’ll be free and clear there.”
Watching as the ship started to evade the TIE fighters, you realized you were powerless. Your transport was unarmed. It was dangerous for you to stay, but you also couldn’t leave without knowing they were okay.
Artoo bumped your chair.
“I can’t just leave them, Artoo,” you said, starting to fly towards their ship to offer them a distraction and a chance to escape. You trusted your flying skills enough, even if you were a little unfamiliar with the current craft.
One of the TIE fighters stopped abruptly and turned to follow you, and so you started flying across the space, zooming out of his firing range and employing evasive maneuvers you hadn’t used in years. It had to be him. Only Anakin Skywalker could keep up with flying like this... because he had been the one who had taught you based off his pod-racing adventures. A thrill rushed through you, at the moment feeling like it was just like old times, two people practicing flying drills between campaigns. You barrel rolled, but your smile faltered when witty banter didn’t come over the comms. It wasn’t like old times.
Artoo let out an alarmed scream as a blast shot past the wing of your ship. Then, he let out a series of beeps, holding the data pad out to you before letting out a sad whimper.
“You’re right,” you sighed. “We have a mission.”
You shot one last look towards their ship, seeing it get hit by one of the TIE fighters who stuck with them. Regretfully, you spun out, flying into clear space and shooting off into hyperspace. “May the force be with them.”
A smile tugged at Lord Vader’s lips as he watched your ship leave real space. His TIE fighter hovered in space as his hands tightened on the controls. The sound of leather being stretched was faintly heard before the sound of a nearby explosion took over. “So the lamb has made some friends.”
As you broke into hyperspace, your let your head fall back against your chair. It was a quiet ride back, neither you nor Artoo wanting to acknowledge what just happened. Not the fact that you had lost your team, and also not the fact that you had almost let yourself get captured in the name of nostalgia. Your memories seeped in from the box you’d so carefully locked them away in.
“No brother gets left behind,” your clone commander said when your Master suggested moving forward.
“We have to continue the mission,” your Master pointed out.
“You go ahead, Master. I’ll stay here until the transport arrives,” you smiled.
The commander nodded thanks as the group moved on.
You looked down at the trooper who's head laid in your lap. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”
“I know,” the clone smiled weakly. “We clones have a saying. ‘If a Jedi is here, we have no need to fear.’”
“We aren’t always successful,” you murmured, thinking about the siege you’d just lost.
“No, but we know you’ll do your best and take care of your own,” the clone corrected as the transport landed nearby. The medic hopped down with a few other clones to transport the fallen soldier onto a stretcher. You squeezed his hand before they loaded him up on the ship.
“May the force be with you, trooper,” you said.
“And with you, always, General,” he nodded.
You opened your eyes to see Chandrilla coming into sight. It was time to face the music.
The ship touched down in the hangar bay. It was quiet with the realization that this was not the ship you had left on. As you walked down the ramp with Artoo at your side, Senator Organa parted the crowd as he walked to the front. There was a question in his eyes as he looked at you. You shook your head. He looked down at the ground.
Turning on his heel, he started to exit the hangar. “Debrief me in the conference room.”
You looked down at Artoo before following. The data pad felt heavy in your hands as you ran your thumb along it. All that had just happened was for the sake of this. A snarl of disgust settled on your face as you entered the conference room. Was it really worth it?
Chucking the pad on the table, you looked at Organa. “Here’s your schematics.”
“What the kriff happened out there?” he demanded. “You left with a team.”
“They found another opportunity and took it,” you explained.
“I didn’t ask that. I asked what happened,” he repeated.
You closed your eyes and exhaled before answering. “They found out that the base was holding Wookies hostage. They went to free them. We split up. When we got back together, we were on opposite sides of the flight deck. Artoo and I stole a transport with the plan for us to rendezvous in orbit. When we got there, an Imperial Star Destroyer reverted to real space, unleashing a set of TIE fighters.”
“Was he one of them?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” you whispered, opening your eyes to finally look at him.
Slowly, Senator Organa picked up the schematics from the table. He looked down at it before looking up at you. “This Empire was built on blood and bone. But the rebellion.... that’s not what we’re built on.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, brow furrowing in confusion.
“We may be made mostly of blood and bone, but we are also made of souls. Where they sow fear, we grow hope. We create dreams.”
“Dreams don’t come for free,” you murmured.
“There’s a price for everything these days,” he replied sadly. “I think you’re just learning yours.”
“I was never meant to survive,” you said softly. After all, the life of a survivor is a lonely one. Sometimes you wondered if it would have been easier if you had blinked out of existence when the rest of the Order was snuffed out.
“I thought everything was the will of the force,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Do you really believe that?”
“Sometimes, but I think it limits the fact that we have choices. We are not destined to one thing or another. It is the choices we make, and the steps we take that get us from one place to another. They said that Skywalker was the chosen one, meant to bring balance,” he let out a huff, “if he was destined for that and didn’t have the freedom to make his own choices, we may not be having this conversation. I’d like to think that the force wouldn’t condemn the galaxy to servitude under a tyrant. That being said... I think you were meant to be here, and the choices you made brought you here.”
“The force and my own will working in tandem,” you replied.
“Precisely. We can always fight our destiny, but we will always have to live with the choices we make,” he said.
“I left them,” you said, looking down.
“You finished the mission. They knew the risks. Their loss will be felt, but we will move on. We must,” he said pointedly. “Do you know what I’ve noticed about the Jedi?”
“What’s that, Senator?”
“The good ones have a tendency to survive,” he said.
You knew he was trying to comfort you, but in a way, his comment was a slap to the Order. There were hundreds of Jedi who died during the end of the war. It wasn’t because they weren’t good Jedi. It was the fact that the people they trusted turned on them. In fact, in a way, they were the last good Jedi, you thought. They never had to worry about looking the other way to survive. They lived the ideals to the end.
You raised your head to look back at him, a fire in your eyes. If you couldn’t protect a team, then you wouldn’t work with one. You’d let down your troopers by letting the Empire take control of them. You’d lost your team today because you’d allowed for distractions that split you up in a way you couldn’t protect them. Never again. You’d been on your own for so long that now you knew the only person you could protect is yourself. Anyone else would just be a liability and another hard choice on your conscience.
“What are you planning to do with those schematics?” you asked.
“Find out who’s supplying the materials,” he admitted. “There’s been a lot of movement of durasteel across the rims, but it doesn’t make sense when compared to the ship manufacturing logs. We learned they were building a new form of TIE. Our analysts are going to look into seeing if that’s the cause. Otherwise, we’re back to square one.”
“When’s my next mission?”
“Easy, Jedi,” he said with a perplexed smile. “You just got back. Rest a bit. I’ll have something for you soon enough, don’t worry.”
“Alright, Senator,” you nodded. “But... next time, I work alone.”
He sighed, the smile dripping from his face. “Understood.”
Artoo whistled beside you.
You looked down at him and rested a hand on his dome. “Make that, me and Artoo.”
“Commandeering my droid now, are you?” Senator Organa asked in amusement.
“What can I say? He gets me,” you smirked, patting the droid before going off to find a refresher. You needed a shower.
Making your way through the barracks of the underground base, you finally found what you were looking for.
Turning the water on to the highest pressure, and to as hot as your body could handle, you stepped into the column of steam. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a good shower like this. The water beat at the knots in your back as days of grime sloughed off your skin. Placing your splayed hands on the wall opposite the shower head, you let your head hang down. Your hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks as you let the water wash over you, blocking out any sounds other than the water over your ears. You clenched your fist against the cool tile, replaying the mission in your head to see if there was anything you could have done differently. If you had just stuck together? If you had gone to them on the flight deck? If you had taken a different ship? If.
You slammed your fist against the wall, the sharp spike of pain bringing you back to reality.
Master Yoda’s voice played in your head, an old Jedi adage about letting go. Letting people flow in and out of your life like the force. Taking a deep breath, you unclenched your fist.
There was nothing you could have done.
This was not your fault.
Order Sixty-Six was not your fault.
You picked your head back up.
It wasn’t your fault. It was the Empire’s. It was Vader’s.
Their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. Your Master’s death wouldn’t be in vain. You’d do whatever it takes to be able to match him. To take him down. You were a Jedi. You protected the galaxy, protected it from beautiful monsters like Vader. You’d do what you had to do to bring peace back to the galaxy.
Shutting the water off, you let the water drip down your body as you reached for a towel. Your skin was an angry tinge of pink-ish red from the heat as you wrapped it around yourself, stepping out of the refresher. Swiping your hand along the mirror, you saw your face in the cleared streak. Your eyes glinted in the light for a moment.
Using the streak, you got dressed and prepared to face the barracks, free and on a mission of your own devising.
Going on your way, you started towards the barracks. A little droid sped up and fell in line with you.
“Hello, Artoo. Organa letting you explore?” you asked.
The droid let out a series of beeps that you took to mean, I do what I want.
“So I’ve been told,” you winked.
Artoo rolled with you until you ran into Jynna.
“I see you’ve made a friend,” she teased.
You looked down at Artoo and smiled. “We’re getting reacquainted.”
“I heard about your mission,” she murmured, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
You shrugged her arm off. Organa’s words flowed freely from your mouth, “They knew what they signed up for.”
“Knowing the risks doesn’t make the loss any easier,” she pointed out. “I thought you’d know that from the Clone Wars.”
A sad smile appeared on your face. “After a while, you learn to let go.”
“Letting go may make living easier, but we can also use their memories to give us strength,” she murmured. “Moving on without my husband will be hard, but I can look at his sacrifice and remember it whenever I feel lost and want to give up. That way, I wouldn’t want his sacrifice to be in vain and I can keep going. I lost half of my heart, yet the world keeps turning.”
“You’ll be together again,” you reassured her, “And he is with you now.”
“One with the force, right?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Something like that,” you sighed.
“Same thing goes for your friends, then.”
“I don’t know if I’d call them friends. We only just met,” you murmured, looking down.
“Sometimes lost potential is worse, because you’ll never know what could have been.” She paused for a moment as though struggling to ask her next question.
“What is it?” you asked, pressing slightly.
“Was it him?” she asked, chewing her lip. “You know, Lord Vader?”
You nodded, face heating up a bit.
“You still want to take him down,” she stated.
“And you don’t?” you asked.
“He’s out of our league,” she replied. “He’s too powerful.”
“Right now, yes,” you admitted. “But, someday... maybe not.”
Artoo bumped your leg at that.
“It’s a shame, really,” Jynna murmured.
“What is?” you asked curiously.
“That someone so horrid can be so handsome,” she said with slight disgust.
“Even a beast can be majestic,” you replied, looking through her. You could see his golden hair like a halo around his head, and that smirk. You hated that smirk. It was self-assurance. It was confidence. It made your stomach turn, but gave you butterflies at the same time. Someday... Someday you would wipe that smirk right off his face.
“I suppose you’re right,” she replied, breaking you from your reverie. “Have you found your room yet?”
“No. I was looking for it when I ran into you,” you admitted.
“It’s right near mine. I’ll show you,” she said, nodding for you to follow her.
You nodded, falling in line.
The room was sparse, clinical almost. You hadn’t had four walls to call your own in so long, but you still couldn’t help compare it to the home you once had. Your room at the temple had been colorful, with trinkets from all the planets you visited. You had wanted to remember how diverse the galaxy was, and to remind yourself why you wanted to be a Jedi. Now, you had nothing to your name except the few things in your bag and the clothes on your back.
Dropping your bag on the work desk, you ran your hand along the metal desk. It wasn’t the Temple, but it’d do just fine. You’d been drifting for so long, it would be nice to just plant roots somewhere. After all, in order for anything to truly grow, it needed a strong base to stand on.
You popped up on the desk, sitting on it as you looked around the room with a critical eye. It was plain now, but you’d make it your own. Yes, this would do nicely.
Acclimating to the base took some time, months had passed before you finally decided that it was home. You had gone from being a nameless face in a crowd, fading into the surroundings to being someone that was sought out. When there was a mission that seemed impossible, Organa and Mothma called on you. You quickly raised through the ranks, making a name for yourself. While you were once a nobody, now you were a somebody. They whispered Vader’s name in fear, but yours in awe.
In the back of your mind, you wondered if this is what it was like to be Anakin Skywalker back during the Clone Wars. A golden child of the resistance. You’d freed entire prison garrisons on your own with Artoo, stolen a myriad of information that had helped the Rebellion grow. The mere mention of you had swaying power. Those who thought the feat impossible, saw you and knew hope.
Then, one day as you were training, finding that your body was getting stronger, faster even, you began to recognize the power you were harnessing. The simulator run you were currently doing felt effortless. Jumps were as simple as willing your body from one point to another. Every fibre of your being was charged with the force, feeling alive. It was intoxicating.
You let the force take over, giving you strength. You could close your eyes and still see, cover your ears and still hear, stand completely still and still feel. You were one with the force and the force was with you, and you felt whole.
Now, this... This was where the fun begins, you realized as you landed on the ground when you finished. You were ready to take him on. It was time to track him down.
It was time to hunt Vader.
Tossing a towel over your shoulder, you started back towards your chambers. You were waiting on an informant to transmit you information on Vader’s current location. Working alone had given you the benefit of being able to make friends with locals who saw you as their savior, and a few of them had decided to pay it back by feeding you information that could prove useful for the Rebellion. Most information was passed on to Mothma and Organa, but the information about Vader... that was saved. You kept track of it all, looking at it when you couldn’t sleep to try and piece together what he was up to. You were studying him, trying to find ways to understand him, if only to know how better to best him. After all, that was the only reason you were doing this, wasn’t it?
Your Master’s voice played in your head, “Know your opponent as well as yourself. The best offense is a good understanding of their defense.”
A wry smirk crossed your face as you walked into your room.
“You’ve gotten faster,” Jynna stated from your desk.
“And you’ve learned to pick locks,” you shot back teasingly. “How is the little one today?”
“He’s sleeping. I’ve been trying to teach him the little things you told me about,” she admitted.
“Is he taking to it?” you asked curiously.
“Like a Mon Calamari to water,” she grinned as you moved to sit on your bed.
“So, what brings you to my humble abode?” you asked as you leaned back against the wall.
“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” she murmured.
“I have to,” you replied.
“You don’t have to,” she replied adamantly. “Look at all the good you’ve done just since you’ve gotten here! You’ve helped people on multiple worlds!”
“But, Jynna, I could help the whole galaxy!” you said emphatically.
“But who will help you?” she asked softly.
“Jynna, you talk as if I won’t come back,” you chuckled.
She looked at you, appraising you like a mother who could see the truth about the dreams of her child. “You barely made it out alive the last time you fought him.”
“That was months ago!” you said incredulously. “I’m stronger now! I’ve learned and trained so much. I’m ready.”
“If you don’t come back, I won’t have anyone to train him,” she said sadly. “No one to protect him should the Empire come looking.”
“That’s not true,” you said, “You’d have this whole base to protect you.”
“They’re not you!” she cried. “What’s a blaster against a lightsaber if not a weapon of suicide?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’ll come back. I promise. Besides, I don’t know where he is yet. All I know is that he’s been hanging around the banking system lately.”
She looked down at her shaking hands, clasping them in her lap. “Is he worth all this?”
“To rid the galaxy of a beast like that? That’s worth my life,” you said honestly. He was worth all this effort. In a way, he’d always been. You’d been bending over backwards to catch Anakin Skywalker’s attention for years. Only, now it was more important than ever.
She bit her lip and nodded. “I’ll see myself out.”
You watched her leave, a feeling of regret blossoming in your chest. Maybe she was right. Maybe you shouldn’t go after Vader. But, then you remembered all the people you’d lost because of his actions. His hands were as red with blood as the color of his lightsaber. If he wouldn’t wash them himself, then you’d cleanse them for him.
Laying back on your cot, you looked up at the ceiling. You’d tell Organa in the morning about the banking system and see if there was a mission for you there. After all, you were a member of this rebellion. You weren’t about to abandon them while they were in the thick of it. Not when your goals were in line and you could work in tandem. You'd follow Vader across the galaxy in the name of the rebellion. People feared the shadows in case he lurked there, but not you. You knew the truth. You were to be his shadow. If anything, it should be he who feared you.
And so the predator would become the prey.
Closing your eyes, you exhaled, letting yourself fall into the force and giving yourself over to sleep.
When you woke the next morning, you felt ready to conquer the galaxy. Taking your data pad from your desk, you made your way to the war room to brief Organa on the banking clan. They’d been working with the Empire to bankrupt systems that weren’t submitting to Imperial rule. People were starving and local governments were having to raise taxes just to get through it. It was unacceptable. All the while, the Empire was stockpiling those credits in the bank to build more ships as well as some monstrosity surrounded in mystery. The project was a secret that even your informants couldn’t find out about, and that made you want to know more about it. Surely, the Senator would, too.
“You’ve got that face on,” Senator Organa commented. You’d noticed he’d gotten relaxed around you, lately. He wasn’t as stoic, and he actually smiled at you every once in a while.
“What face?” you asked with an amused smirk.
“That face.”
“That’s just my face, Senator.”
“No, it’s the face of a Jedi who’s about to say they have an idea and want to pursue it,” he sighed.
“And how do you know that face, specifically?” you asked with a raised brow.
“I’ve known my fair share of Jedi,” he said with a nostalgic smile, “And my fair share of people who should have been Jedi.”
“Well, you’re correct on that part, at least,” you admitted. “I do have an idea.”
He gestured for you to continue.
You held up your data pad for him to take. “The Banking Clan is hoarding funds for the Empire at the expense of systems who are resisting. They’re lending at higher percentages that’s leading to the bankruptcy of multiple systems.”
“The people are starving and the Empire isn’t even giving them a dime of the money that’s rightfully theirs,” he commented gravely. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to go and investigate the claim. Word on the ground is that the Empire is using those funds to fuel a secret project,” you said pointedly.
“What kind of secret project?” he asked with narrowed eyes.
“Senator, if I knew then it wouldn’t be a secret,” you deadpanned.
“Right,” he said sheepishly. “What do you need?”
“Just a ship,” you said, “I’m going alone.”
A droid tootled from nearby before rolling through the crowd towards you.
“Tell that to your friend, here,” Organa said with a smirk. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was your droid.”
You looked down at Artoo with a fond smile. “Nonsense. Artoo doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“He just happens to go on all your missions with you,” Organa pointed out with a raised brow.
“What can I say? We’re friends and he likes me,” you shrugged. “Besides, he saves the day more often than I can count.”
Artoo wobbled back and forth.
“Come on, Artoo. We’ve got a conspiracy to uncover.”
The droid beeped an affirmative and started to follow you.
“May the force be with you,” Organa called after you.
You gave him a slight salute with two fingers, “Always, Senator.”
A human and a droid boarding a ship on their own seems like the start of a good joke, but everyone knew that that human and that droid were who the rebellion sent when no one else would do. That human and that droid could accomplish more than most.
As you slipped into the pilot’s seat, you nodded towards an open interface. “Plug in, little buddy,” you smiled.
Artoo rolled over and connected with the ship, taking control of the co-pilot controls.
You took a deep breath before pulling off into the atmosphere. In the back of your head, you felt guilty. Sure, the rebellion had a legitimate reason to be interested in the banks, but the fact that you had an ulterior motive wasn’t lost on you. You hadn’t lied. Nor had you actively tried to deceive Senator Organa. Yet, you still felt bad for not disclosing the real reason you wanted to investigate to him.
Once in hyperspace, you pulled out your data pad with your notes on them to look over the intel that had been passed onto you.
“He was last spotted here, Artoo,” you murmured, scrolling through the log of information. “I doubt he’ll still be there. He doesn’t seem to stay in one place for too long. But, we should still be able to get some valuable information from the planet.”
Artoo let out a series of beeps.
“You know why I’m doing this,” you sighed.
He bumped your chair.
“No, there’s no other reason than this. The galaxy needs to be a safer place. There’s no other reason than protecting the galaxy,” you murmured as you looked up at the streaks out your viewport.
Except, you weren’t seeing the vast expanse of the hyperspace lane. No, in your mind, you were looking into those amber eyes that glinted like the sun. You were seeing a man who’s heart had led him astray as his face glowed from the light of two interlocked lightsabers. That fight you had had was something you replayed so often in your mind. At first, it had been to analyze your own weaknesses in order to train and overcome them. Then, it had been to look for Vader’s weak points in how he fought. But, now... now, you’d replay the fight in your mind just to analyze him. He’d been a brilliant Jedi once. The brightest star of the Order. Some stars were constant, like Master Kenobi or Master Yoda. Some still shone blue at their newness, like most young Padawan learners who had the galaxy at their feet as they grew into their powers. But, Anakin Skywalker had been the brightest star. He was going to be the true north that guided the force into balance. Instead, he had become a supernova, burning brightly before burning out.
When you looked at Vader, it was hard not to still see Skywalker. Part of you had to wonder if he was still in there, but that part was quickly squelched by the part that saw what atrocities he committed every day. No Jedi could ever condone such violence. No, what you were looking at was a man who made a series of mistakes and owned them as if they were the right thing to do. What you saw was a man who was compensating for his actions by adopting a moral depravity that explained them. Yet... that was the problem. It was easy to look at the man now and see that he was obviously always a terrible person. But it was harder to look at Anakin Skywalker during the Clone Wars and predict that this was what he was to become. He had had everything and he threw it away, and for what? An old man that just put him into another form of slavery not that different from his life on Tatooine. He may walk free, but his life was not his own. Not anymore. Part of that made you feel for him, since he didn’t even notice the cage he was trapped in. You’d free him soon enough.
You looked down at the controls in your hands. Perhaps none of your lives were your own anymore. You hadn’t planned on this path, and you’d even avoided it, yet here you were trudging back down it.
The will of the force.
That’s what this was, wasn’t it?
The inevitable path that would lead to a head-on collision with a handsome beast of a man that at one point could have been your friend. A small voice in the back of your mind made the mistake of suggesting: perhaps more than that. But you knew where this path would take you: to another fight where only one of you would walk away intact.
Your ship pulled out of hyperspace and Mygeeto came into view. From the closet, you pulled out a warm cloak to protect you from the snow on the planet as well as it’s harsh winds. Then, you settled back in your seat and took the ship down for a landing farther away from the settlement than you’d have liked. However, this was a mission for gathering intelligence. You were hoping that a quick getaway wouldn’t be necessary.
“Well, Artoo, let’s go try to blend in,” you said with a hint of a smile.
The two of you made your way down the ramp and towards the outskirts of the city. The hood of your cloak was pulled down over your forehead, and you kept your head down, surveilling your surroundings out of your peripherals.
It was a cold world, in both climate and architecture. Although, that wasn’t surprising given the relationship that the Banking Clan had had with the Separatists. The snow quickly covered your tracks as you walked further into the city.
“We’re almost there, Artoo,” you murmured as you maneuvered through buildings that all had the same metallic façade.
He let out a series of sounds that sounded an awful lot like, ‘Well, how do you know?’
“I’ve been here before,” you replied. “Back in the Clone Wars. That’s how I know my contact. The Republic fought here off and on for three years. Once, my soldiers were wounded, and a local took them in while we were stuck in a snow storm. If it hadn’t been for her, we all would have died.”
Someone walking by bumped your shoulder.
A smirk crossed your face. “Doma.”
You saw the figure go down an alleyway and followed, seeing them disappear around the corner.
Artoo let out a concerned whimper as you noticed a slit of light spilling out onto the snow.
“Don’t worry. We’re safe here,” you murmured, pulling your hood off as you entered through a doorway that had been propped open.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” a woman said. “I’ve been sending you information for months now.”
“I had to get permission first,” you replied, hanging your cloak up on a hook and shutting the door.
“Even without a Master you have a Master,” she teased.
“The force is my Master.”
“I thought the Jedi mastered the force,” she shot back.
You rolled your eyes. “It’s been too long, my friend.”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, alright,” she winked, walking further into her small apartment. “Care for a hot drink to warm you up? I’m sure not everyone is used to the Mygeeto Chill.”
“Depends. Will it be that terrible tea you served during the war?” you chuckled as you sat at her table.
“That’s a delicacy here,” she deflected.
“That’s because no one wants it elsewhere,” you teased. “I’ll take a caf if you have it.”
Doma nodded and went to her kitchenette to prepare it. “That droid looks familiar.”
You looked at Artoo sideways. “He’s a friend.”
“You always had weird friends,” she replied.
“You’re my friend.”
“Exactly.” She placed the caf down in front of you.
You took the mug and held it in your hands to warm you.
“So, why are you here?” she asked, sliding into the seat across from you.
“Looking into your intel about the banks colluding with the Empire at the expense of planets who are sympathetic to the cause,” you replied as you lightly blew on the caf.
“Is that the only reason?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I’m looking to get information about Vader’s whereabouts,” you added before taking a sip.
“And?” she asked with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “And I missed you.”
“I knew it!” She grinned.
“Doma, can you get me into the bank?” you asked seriously. “I’ll need actual proof.”
“I can sneak you in. I’ll say you’re an intern. You’ll need a change of clothes, though,” she said thoughtfully. “They don’t trust Non-Muuns since the Clovis situation.”
“I’ll do what I have to,” you nodded.
“Good. Now, get some sleep. You’ve had a long journey, and you need to be wide awake and have no signs of lag if you’re to do this,” she said, poking you in the shoulder.
“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, going to settle on her couch.
“Good night, Jedi,” she smirked, going towards where her room was.
“Good night, Doma.”
You spent a bit of the night looking up at her ceiling as your thoughts drifted to Vader. Absentmindedly, you wondered what he was up to. Deep down, you wondered if he was maybe thinking about you, too. Eventually, you decided that was unlikely and turned over to fall asleep, letting yourself slip into a deep sleep.
While you slept, you did something you hadn’t done in a while. You dreamed.
The temple surroundings appeared vibrant behind your eyelids. It took a moment, but you recognized that you were back in your room. When you went to get out of bed, you couldn’t. You were being held back. Looking down, you noticed an arm wrapped around your waist. Turning to peek over your shoulder, you saw a mop of golden hair. Now, you could feel the heartbeat of the person behind you. You could feel their breath on the crook of your neck.
“Stay,” a voice murmured. They were pleading in a way that made you want to melt back into them and acquiesce to the simple request, especially since it had been so long since you were held like this. Like you mattered.
You stiffened as you realized who that voice belonged to.
The owner of the voice picked their head up from where it had been buried in your back. You locked eyes with a pair of amber gems that bore into your soul.
“Ready to go so soon? And here I thought you were coming for me,” he smirked. “You lack conviction.”
You shoved him away. This was only a dream. You backed away from the bed, but he followed, getting up and staring you down as he advanced. Soon, your back was against the wall. His metallic hand reached out to tip your chin up to look into his eyes. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wasn’t entirely out of fear as his thumb grazed your chin.
“You’re different, Jedi,” he smirked, making your heart skip a beat. “How interesting.”
You sat up on the couch in a cold sweat. Artoo let out a concerned murmur.
“I’m okay,” you gasped, settling your racing heart. “I’m okay.”
The droid came over next to the couch and you rested a hand on him.
“It was just a bad dream,” you murmured.
Artoo backed away slightly from you. The last time his friend had bad dreams, that didn’t end well.
You let out a sigh and laid back down. “I’ll be fine. Good night, Artoo.”
Turning to face the cushions, your brow furrowed. Why was Vader in your dream, and more importantly, why had he been holding you close like that? Some voice deep within you murmured, and why did I like it?
Scrunching your eyes shut, you could still feel the phantom warmth at your back. It unnerved you slightly, but you didn’t have time to focus on that. You needed rest so that you would be at your best when you infiltrated the banking clan in the morning. Sleep didn’t come easily, but it came eventually. This time it was dreamless, which was a blessing.
When you woke in the morning, it was to streaks of light across your face as they slipped in from the transparisteel. Rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hand, you stretched on the couch. It wasn’t the best night of sleep in your life, and you definitely slept on your neck at a weird angle for half the night, but it wasn’t anything a hot shower couldn’t fix.
Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you sat up and took in a deep breath. The air in your lungs was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. If you ever had the option of staying on one world when this was all over, it would be a warm planet, because you hated the cold.
Going towards the refresher, you noticed that Doma had laid out an outfit for you. It was a jumpsuit with an outer skirt and a weird vest. The only good thing about it was that you could hide your weapon with the skirt. Other than that, you weren’t a fan. It clung in places that you hadn’t had clothing cling before. After showering and changing into it, you were already starting to miss your own clothes. With one disapproving glance at yourself in Doma’s bathroom mirror, you went back out towards the kitchen.
“I see you found the outfit I lent you,” Doma commented.
“Thanks, I hate it,” you smirked.
“Careful, Jedi. Hate leads to the dark side,” she teased.
You waved her off and grabbed your cloak off the hook. “Ready when you are.”
She nodded, “Alright. But, the droid stays here.”
Casting a glance at Artoo, you responded, “Where he goes, I go.”
“It’ll be easier to just sneak you in,” Doma pointed out.
That was a reasonable explanation. You sighed. “Sorry, Artoo. Looks like you’ll have to stay here.”
Artoo nudged you towards the door. You started to head out with Doma, casting him a worried glance when the door closed behind the two of you.
“You’re really attached to that droid,” Doma murmured as the two of you started walking towards the main building.
“He’s my friend.”
“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to have attachments.”
“We’re allowed to have friends. We just have to be able to let go when the time is right,” you replied.
“You’d be able to let go of one of the only ties to your old life that you have?” she asked.
“If I had to,” you replied.
“But you don’t want to.”
“Does anyone ever want to let go of someone?” you countered.
“We’re here,” she murmured, taking her badge out to get into the building. “Don’t draw unnecessary attention.”
You nodded, pulling your hood down as you followed her into the building. People barely spared you a glance as you made your way down the main hall towards her office.
“Where are we going?” you asked. “According to the schematics you sent me, the vault is in the other direction.”
“You can’t just waltz into the vault,” she hissed, closing the door to her office behind the two of you. Then, she gestured to a hatch in the ceiling. “You’re going to have to go through the vent.”
“Great. Crawling through meters of air ducts. Feels just like I’m back in the Order,” you frowned as you reached up to open the duct.
“Do you have the schematics on you?” she asked, settling into her chair.
You tapped your wrist band. “I’ve got the map if I need, but I’m sure if I just follow the sound of thievery and corruption I’ll find my way just fine.”
Doma rolled her eyes at you as you jumped up into the duct. “Be safe, Jedi. May the Force be with you.”
You gave her a wink before shimmying down the vent. Jedi didn’t have claustrophobia, but you did feel like the vents were getting smaller as you went along. Eventually, you were crawling along on your hands and knees instead of being slightly crouched.
Looking down through the grate in front of you, you could see the vault. Carefully, you opened it to peer down into the space. Consulting your schematics, you realized that the data you were looking for was stored a few rows over from where you would drop down. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and steeled yourself for what would happen next.
The drop to the floor was long, and it would put you in a maze of shelves holding data. Instead, you dropped onto a shelving unit to keep a good view of the ground around you as you crept along. The data you sought was a few columns over. The room wasn’t crowded, but there were the occasional workers and droids. You’d have to be fast if you wanted to get out undetected. When you found the column you needed, you rolled off the shelf and landed soundlessly on the floor.
Casting a furtive glance around you, you pulled out a datapad from under your skirt and plugged into the mainframe. The damage was so much worse than you thought as you scanned the information. They were bankrupting more than half the galaxy while the Empire was rolling in credits. It made your stomach sick as you thought of all those people dying from hunger and living in poverty. Poverty that the Empire could have prevented, but people can’t fight back if they’re too weak from hunger. It was despicable, and the banking clan was complacent in making it happen. Footsteps resounded in the room around you, but you kept yourself as cool as a dead star. You watched the screen with interest as it loaded the data you needed. It was almost done when the footsteps got closer.
95 percent. The footsteps sounded like they were a few rows away.
97 percent. They were two rows away.
99 percent. They were around the corner.
100 percent. You unplugged and jumped up onto the shelf, holding your breath. The Muun on the floor kept walking right past you. Looking up at the ceiling, you thanked the force before starting to head back to the air vent. Jumping up from the shelf wasn’t difficult, and you had the hatch closed and were crawling along the vent again in no time.
Alone with your thoughts, you began to think of what you would have done if you were still a Jedi in the Order. Your Master would have taken down this entire operation in the name of justice and freedom, wouldn’t they? All you had on you was your saber and one charge, but with the right plan, that was all you’d need. Gravity would take care of the rest. A plan started to form the further from the vault you got. Soon enough, you were jumping back down into Doma’s office.
“Took you long enough,” she smirked.
“Yeah, well, it’s a maze,” you shot back.
“Did you have any trouble?” she asked with a raised brow.
“It was like taking clams from a Gungan,” you smirked, holding up the data pad.
“Good, now you can go.”
“I can’t just leave,” you said adamantly.
“You have the information. What else do you need?” she asked in confusion.
“I need to know where he is, and I need the Empire to know they’re being watched,” you replied seriously.
“Do you have a death wish?” she asked incredulously.
“No, but they need to know that people won’t turn a blind eye anymore,” you replied.
“How are you going to achieve that?” Doma asked skeptically.
“I’m going to get my information. Then I’m going to set charges and destroy the building.”
“You can’t destroy the banking clan. Imagine what that would do to the intergalactic economy!”
“I wouldn’t be destroying the bank. We all know they keep the money elsewhere, if they have it at all. I’d just be destroying the symbol of it,” you said, pulling your cloak back on.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she sighed.
“Just get Artoo and go back to the ship. There won’t be anything left for you here when I’m done,” you replied.
Doma shook her head. “You’re going to get me a new job!”
“I’m sure the resistance can find something,” you shot back before heading back out into the hall.
The vault was in the middle of the building. if you weakened along the support beams, it would all come crashing down with one charge. After all, you only had one emergency charge. Making your way towards Vice Chairman Anolo’s office, you used your saber to weaken the support beams. His office was on the top floor, overlooking the city below. You didn’t care if someone figured out what you were at this point. Your work was mostly done. Doma was going to be safe. You could take these risks, because you were only risking yourself. Using the force, you opened the door to a startled Anolo at his desk.
“Who are you?” he asked incredulously.
You ignited your saber. You had no intent to harm him, but he didn’t know that.
“Focus less on who I am, and more on telling me what I want to know,” you shot back. “Where’s Vader?”
“He’s not here!” Anolo replied as you walked closer to him.
You swung and cut off a corner of his desk. “That’s not a real answer!”
“H-he’s on Eadu! Left a few rotations ago!”
You let your saber fall to your side. “Now, was that so hard?”
Anolo cowered behind his desk as you started to leave. You paused at the doorway.
“Oh, and you may want to evacuate. Rumor has it the economy is about to crash,” you smirked, throwing your charge on the last support beam.
You cut a hole in the wall before jumping onto a nearby cliff face. With a satisfied grin, you pressed the button on your commlink that detonated the charge. The explosion came first, followed by a lurch to the side. Then, the building started to cave in on itself.
Pulling your hood over your face, you turned and made your way into the forest behind you. Your work here was done.
The snow crunched under your feet as you made your way back to the ship. You could see your breath in the air and you were quite glad when you saw the outline of your vessel through the trees. Doma was sitting on the ramp wrapped in a blanket. Artoo was next to her. They had been waiting for you. You felt slightly guilty.
“Did you get the answer you were looking for?” she asked.
You looked down. “Eadu.”
She nodded, getting up from the ramp to head back inside. “I assume you’re dropping me off, first.”
“That’s the plan,” you replied.
“Was this the plan?” she asked at the top of the ramp, back towards you.
You didn’t have an answer for her. Originally, you were just collecting information. It wasn’t until you saw how deep the corruption was that you had decided to do this, but your silence was all the answer she needed.
“That’s what I thought,” she sighed before disappearing inside.
Artoo let out an admonishing set of beeps.
“Hey, you’re one to talk! You’re an agent of chaos,” you shot back.
Artoo let out a whistle of outrage.
“You heard me,” you smirked.
He bumped you.
“But, you’re right,” you sighed. “Organa isn’t going to be pleased.”
The droid looked up at you and let out some softer sounds.
“Yeah, Mothma will probably give me a promotion,” you chuckled softly. “Come on, let’s go home.”
The two of you made your way up the ramp and settled in for the trip home. It was a decidedly quiet trip, with Doma questioning leaving all that she had known for the unknown life of the rebellion, and you questioning yourself.
You caught yourself drifting back to the dream you had. Domesticity with Vader. The idea was almost laughable, as if anyone could ever tame that beast. He was wild. Unhinged. Unpredictable. Your mind briefly thought about the events of today, and for the shortest moment thinking about how maybe the same could have been said of you.
But, you were nothing like Vader. You weren’t the beast. You were the hunter protecting the village from him. Yet, just like the hunter, you could see the beauty in your quarry. He was fearless. Powerful. His gaze held a certain hunger that kept you in your place for fear of being eaten. Those amber eyes lit a flame in you, but you didn’t want to admit it. After all, how could someone who lives in the dark ignite a flame? It didn’t make sense. You had the same need to possess him as you had to defeat him. He had taken everything away from you, and continued to rampage across the galaxy, which warranted his defeat, but the way he carried himself entranced you. He was a man with nothing left to lose. You figured it must be lonely, but a part of you envied him, to have that sense of freedom was something you would never have.
Taking a deep breath, you landed the craft back at base, preparing yourself for the inevitable.
No sooner had you disembarked, you were getting yelled at.
“Conference room. Now,” Organa barked.
You looked at Artoo and Doma before following him into the room.
“You destroyed the banking clan?” Organa asked incredulously after the door closed.
“Free markets are supposed to be a good thing,” you shrugged.
“That is not even close to what this is about. You were supposed to gather intel!”
“And I did!” you said, chucking him the data. “It’s all there.”
“But the bank isn’t.”
“I had to send a message.”
“Do you know what the retaliation for that will be?” he asked, leaning forward on the table.
“Enlighten me, Senator,” you shot back.
“You just put yourself on the radar.”
“Good. He should know I’m coming for him,” you smirked.
“Well, what about the rest of us? You just put the rebellion in danger with that stunt.”
“They don’t know who I’m working for. I could just be a standalone vigilante,” you shrugged.
“You better hope that’s the case,” he said darkly. “Dismissed.”
You sighed, folding your arms across your chest and leaving.
“Well, that went well,” you said to Artoo who had been listening outside the door.
He tootled something akin to: ‘I told you so.’
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll start listening to you.”
He beeped back, ‘Yeah, maybe you should.’
You playfully toed him. “Come on, little buddy. Let’s get Doma settled in.”
After showing Doma to her new quarters and introducing her to the people she’d be working with to take care of the rebellion’s expenses, you went back to your own room. Flopping on your bed, you pulled out a holomap of Eadu.
“What are you doing here, Ani?” you murmured to yourself as you tried to figure out what could possibly be of use to the Empire on Eadu. The planet was an insurance claim waiting to happen with the amount of storms they had there. Flying there wasn’t easy, but that would make it a decent base, you supposed. Chewing your lip, you thought about what Organa had said. Had you drawn attention to the rebellion? Then again, the Emperor had to know about the rebellion by now. It was always a shock to you that Organa and Mothma could continue to work in the Senate while still doing all this. They covered their tracks nicely, but they weren’t above suspicion. However, the Emperor probably assumed they were afraid of him, and fear was a good enough motivator to keep people in line.
With a sigh, you closed your map. You’d take a day to regroup and dig up more information. Then, you’d go to Eadu.
There was a tentative knock on your door.
“It’s unlocked,” you called out.
Jynna entered.
“I heard about your mission,” she murmured as she sat on the edge of your bed.
“It didn’t go according to plan,” you replied.
“So you didn’t intend to destroy a building when you set out yesterday?” she asked with a raised brow.
“Not particularly. Sometimes things just crop up.”
“Were there people in there?” she asked softly.
“Does it matter?” you replied. “I gave them a warning to leave. I assumed that most people would see a Jedi cutting the support beams and get out of the building.”
She shot you a look. “The day we stop thinking it matters is the day we become more like them.”
“Its a war, Jynna. There’s always a sacrifice to be made,” you sighed, thinking back on the many clones you had lost that way.
“When we sacrifice our values, that’s the day we lose,” she replied, getting up.
“Jynna, wait,” you said, sitting up. “I had to show the Empire that someone’s watching.”
“No, you had to show Vader that someone’s watching.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“One man is not a whole institution, Jedi.”
“Cut off the head of the dragon and the serpent dies.”
“Where there’s a void in power, another will seize it,” she countered. “Look at the Emperor. That’s how he came to power.”
You sighed and looked down. “I didn’t set out to kill anyone. I just wanted to destroy the building.”
“Our actions have consequences that we may not always see at the time,” she replied.
“You sound like Master Yoda.”
“Was Master Yoda a mother?” she asked in amusement.
“Not exactly,” you chuckled.
She caught sight of your map on the table. “You’re leaving again.”
“Anolo told me where Vader was heading.”
“So the hunt resumes,” she said hollowly as she went towards the door. “When will it end?”
“When one of us is gone.”
“That doesn’t sound very Jedi-like,” she paused with her back to you.
“He’s a Sith, and I am a Jedi. This is just how it is.”
“I thought only a Sith dealt in absolutes,” she said.
Your eyes narrowed. “I don’t appreciate that insinuation.”
“He was like you once. Are you sure there’s no hope for him?” she asked seriously, turning to face you.
“After all that he’s done, and the lack of remorse he has for it all, I think he’s too far gone,” you admitted.
She studied you for a moment. “I suppose you’ll do what you must. Wear a jacket. Eadu’s weather is unpredictable.”
You stared after her long after she had disappeared from view.
She couldn’t have been right. If the Sith could be reasoned with, then the council wouldn’t have been hunting them down. Were they two sides of the same credit? No, that wasn’t right either. After all, the Sith were not the exact opposite of the Jedi. The force was a spectrum of light and dark. That much you knew.
Not even Vader was the exact opposite of Skywalker. You could see that in the way he carried himself. Anakin had always had confidence. Now, he just had arrogance as well. He always walked like he owned the galaxy, but now he almost did. His grin was still mischievous, and he still was trying to prove himself, never content that he was enough. Except, he had been enough. He just never realized it. That’s what made his fall hurt the most.
Those months after the fall, you spent your time analyzing everything, wondering if you could have done anything different. Yet, as you thought back on what Organa had told you, perhaps this had happened for a reason. Perhaps this was the will of the force. You were meant for this confrontation. You were meant for this growth. He was your catalyst. In a way, you supposed you should be grateful. You never could have become strong like this without the exact set up that brought you to the rebellion. Yet, strength was nothing but a measure of endurance. Looking over at the map of Eadu, you smirked. You had endurance for the long haul.
Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you got up to train. In truth, part of it was because you wanted to stay sharp for the fight ahead, but part of it was also the fact that you didn’t want to sleep. You were worried that you’d dream of him again.
Your arms moved on their own accord, blocking with your lightsaber. You were on autopilot, letting the force guide you. All the while, you were thinking about Mygeeto. You’d killed those people. Not on purpose, but you’d done it. What did that say about you? It certainly told the Empire that someone was onto them, and it would spark fear in the next person to cheat the galaxy out of their own credits at the expense of the people. It had to be done. You’d given them fair warning. It wasn’t cruel.
The training droid landed a blast that stung your shoulder. You reached out with the force and shoved it into a wall. Wiping your brow with the back of your hand, you thought back to Vader. He didn’t give warnings when he did things like that. He just did them, consequences be damned. You were nothing like him.
You kept training well into the night, watching as everyone upstairs started to wrap up for the night, leaving a sparse night shift. Eventually, you saw Organa looking down at you training. Mothma came up next to him before pressing a button on the panel. The training room shut down.
“Get some sleep,” Mothma said over the loudspeaker.
“I need to train,” you shot back.
“No, you need to not drive yourself into the ground,” Organa ground out. “That’s an order, Jedi.”
Your chest puffed up in annoyance before you exhaled. “Fine.”
The two of them nodded down at you before moving on. You deactivated your saber and showered before going to bed. Blinking, the map of Eadu burned itself into your brain as you slowly succumbed to sleep.
“You just can’t stay away, can you?” a voice teased.
“You’re not real,” you replied, clenching your jaw.
A feather-light touch grazed up and down your arm. It was cold. Metallic. It sent a shiver down your spine. “But you wish I was.”
“I will destroy you,” you huffed.
“Oh? Will you destroy me, or will you destroy yourself?” Vader purred into your ear.
“You know nothing.”
“I am you. I know everything,” he countered.
You took several deep breaths, willing the dream away. Your mind was playing tricks on you. Eventually, you found yourself in the force and left the dream behind you.
When you woke the next morning, you decided to leave a day early. You told no one where you were going. You didn’t like the fact that Organa felt like he could order you about. With the Order gone, you answered to no man. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walked towards your small ship. A slight smile toyed at your lips as you heard the familiar sound of a motor following you.
“This isn’t an official mission,” you told the droid.
He tootled back a reply.
“It’s a wonder you’ve lasted as long as you have with your penchant for danger and utter disregard for the rules,” you teased.
He bumped you as if to say, ‘Look who’s talking.’
“Yeah, yeah,” you murmured, smile dripping from your face. You had become reckless, hadn’t you? The two of you made your way into the ship and started the take off sequence. Soon, you were coasting through hyperspace on your way to Eadu. Soon, you found yourself thinking about what could possibly happen when you got there.
Going to Mygeeto, you had known that Vader would probably not have been there. The intel was recent enough, but it had also reported that he had left. There was a very real possibility that you would see him on Eadu, and you didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Have you seen him, Artoo?” you asked quietly as you stared out into space. “Since...” you trailed off, knowing the droid knew the rest.
He shook his head.
“He hasn’t changed much, physically,” you murmured. “Except his eyes... Before they were blue like an ocean threatening to drown you. Now, they’re golden, like an ember in a hearth. At first glance, it seems warm and inviting, but it still has the potential to burn down a home. His clothes are darker. Before he just looked like Obi-Wan’s shadow, but now it’s like he’s embraced the darkness, becoming one with it.”
Artoo let out a murmur.
“I’ll stop talking about him,” you assured the droid. “We have to figure out a safe place to land, anyway.”
The droid projected his own map up before zooming in on an area between a couple of crags.
“Are you sure we’ll be protected from the wind when we go to take off again? We can’t risk getting cut up on those cliffs,” you pointed out.
Artoo let out an indignant set of beeps.
“Okay, okay. I trust you. We’ll land there,” you said, holding up your hands placatingly.
Artoo tootled and closed out the map. If he had a face, you were sure he’d have a smug grin on it.
“Coming out of hyperspace,” you chuckled as you reverted back to real space.
Eadu loomed in the space in front of you. You didn’t know if it was the landing, or the prospect of what you’d find on the planet, but you felt a rush of nerves flutter through your stomach. Stretching your hand before flourishing your fingers on the controls, you started to bring the ship into the atmosphere.
You clenched the controls in your hands as you struggled against the rough winds of the planet, threatening to careen your ship into the cliffs. This would not be a happy landing. Gritting your teeth, you followed Artoo’s instructions, listing slightly to the side to get to your landing zone. Wind howled on either side of the craft as you battled the wind to land, being pushed forward all the while. You took a centering breath before extending the landing gear, hoping the added drag would help slow you down enough to land. The gambit worked and you roughly touched down on the ground.
Artoo let our a series of beeps, ‘Well, I’ve seen worse.’
“They’re not good flying conditions. As much as I hate it, it makes sense for a secret base. No one’s going to want to come here if they don’t have to,” you muttered as you got out of your seat. You tugged on your jacket and started to head out when you heard your friend follow you.
“No, Artoo. I think you should stay here. The weather is nasty. I wouldn’t want you to get damaged,” you told him softly.
He let out a whine.
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised with a soft smile on your face. You gave him a small salute before heading down the side of the cliff towards the secret Imperial base.
Wind and rain whipped your hair around and stuck your clothes to your body. Halfway down the cliff, a chill set in, but you blocked it out as you saw yourself getting closer and closer to the base. Someday, you’d go some place warm, you promised yourself.
Gently landing on top of the base, you walked carefully so as not to slip on the slick, wet, durasteel. You found the access hatch and quietly opened it before slipping into the building to find yourself in another ventilation system.
You rolled your eyes, grumbling about how you always found yourself in ventilation ducts and how the Imperials are bad at security as you started to crawl along.
Eventually, you came to a deserted hall and decided to drop down. Now you understood.
You understood why the base was hidden so well.
It was because of what the base was.
It was a lab.
Looking around, you saw odd animals you’d never seen before. In cages there were hybrids that were so unnatural that their mere existence pained them, the feeling radiating off them in waves. With horror, the truth hit you like a ton of durasteel. These were experiments. Unethical experiments where the Imperials were so caught up on whether or not they could do it, that they didn’t ask whether or not they should. These were the workings of a being with no moral compass.
You bit your lip as you continued on your way, sick to your stomach. That was when you heard a small noise.
It sounded like crying.
Following the noise, you found yourself looking into a dark cell. There was a balled shadow figure on the ground cradling something- no, someone- to its chest. The crouched figure looked up at you, a spark of recognition in their eyes.
“J-Jedi?” the figure whimpered.
You knew that voice.
It was a voice you didn’t think you’d hear again.
“Gavyn?” you asked, quickly working at the door to free him. “Gavyn, what have they done to you?”
“O-oon’sara’s dead,” he sobbed, holding her limp body to his chest. “When we fled with the Wookies, they destroyed our hyperdrive so we couldn’t jump. The Empire assumed Chitca was an escaped prisoner and took her back to the base.”
“How did you get here?” you asked, gently extracting his fallen crew mate from his arms.
“Tarkin,” he whispered. “When we were brought aboard, he said that he might as well find a use for the ‘rebel scum.’”
“What use?” you asked, but you were afraid of the answer. “Gavyn, we’ve got to get out of here.
“No,” he said adamantly, pushing you out of the cell and into the light. “I’m too- I’m too damaged.”
“Gavyn, you’re not making sense!” you said as you held his arms.
He finally stepped into the light and you understood. Gavyn wasn’t the same. He had burns all over his body that looked like he had been marred with pocks. Hesitantly, you reached up to touch hardware that had been wired into his head.
“They did this to you?” you asked, eyes welling with tears.
“They wanted to know what we knew,” he replied like it made sense. “To take the information for their own use.”
Your eyes widened in horror, “Did they get it?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head dismissively. “During implantation, they botched it and ended up destroying the memory. I think it was done on purpose. There are some sympathetic to our cause here.”
“Gavyn, anyone who would do this to another being is not sympathetic,” you said in disgust.
“This isn’t the real reason for the base,” he murmured. “They’re building a super weapon. The likes of which haven’t been seen before. They want to destroy whole planets.”
“That’s not possible,” you said, shaking your head in denial.
“That’s what the small scale experiments are for. They’re trying to perfect a smaller version of the ray gun before they start working on a larger one,” he explained.
“What do they consider a successful test?” you asked in horror.
“One that disintegrates the target. Or at least part of it,” he said, holding up his hand. He was missing a finger.
You heard footsteps marching towards the corridor.
“I’m getting you out of here,” you said as you started towards the door.
“No. I’ll never make it out. I’ll only slow you down,” he said seriously.
“Then we’ll fight,” you said, taking your lightsaber from your side.
“Go and leave me,” he said adamantly.
“If I leave you here, they’ll torture you,” you said, feeling hot tears stream down your face. You knew what he would ask next, but force, did you wish you didn’t. A pit formed in your stomach.
“Kill me,” he said sadly.
“Jedi don’t kill needlessly,” you said adamantly.
“It’s not needless. It’s mercy. Please, Jedi. I’m begging you,” he said, grabbing your hand with your weapon and aiming it towards his chest.
The footsteps got closer.
You closed your eyes tight, listening to the sound of your saber ignite.
His body was heavy against yours as his head fell against your shoulder.
“Thank... you,” he murmured into you.
Gently, you lowered him to the ground, closing his eyes. You looked down at the weapon in your hand, and then at your fallen crew. The Empire had done this. They had caused this pain. The pit in your stomach started to boil. Your skin felt hot and started to flush as the footsteps got closer. The troopers rounded the corner and you unleashed a battle cry of hurt and rage before you began to slice your way through them and towards the room where the scientists worked.
They raised their unarmed hands to the ceiling and begged for mercy, but you didn’t listen. You prepared to cut them down, not paying attention to the body count as you stepped over your fallen foes.
“Mercy? Like the kind of mercy you showed my friends?” you asked in your rage. “You don’t deserve mercy!”
You made quick work of the scientists before going onto the command deck.
Your chest heaved as you stood off against the last crew member alive, some captain or admiral. You didn’t care enough to bother with rank. Dropping your saber to your side, your other hand came up and reach out before clenching into a fist. The man clawed at his throat as his feet dangled inches above the floor.
“Tell me about this weapon,” you demanded. You released just enough for him to answer.
“I-it’s a planet destroyer. The Death Star. Moff Tarkin is in charge of the project.”
“And Vader?” you asked.
“Wants nothing to do with it! He’s only involved because the Emperor makes him be,” they gasped.
“Were you aware of the experiments on living beings?” you asked incredulously.
“It was in the name of progress!”
You tightened your grip.
“Where is he?” you asked through gritted teeth.
“Moff Tarkin is on the Carrion Spike,” he gasped.
“Try again.”
“V-Vader?” he asked, wide eyed. “He’s on Mustafar. Y-you’re h-hunting the Sith Lord?”
You raised a brow, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. You clenched your fist before turning on your heel. A thud could be heard behind you.
“I’m a Jedi. Sith Lords are our specialty,” you huffed as you put your saber back on its clip. You wouldn’t be needing it anymore right now.
Your footsteps echoed through the building as you made your way out to the landing deck.
“Artoo, can you pick me up?”
The droid beeped emphatically.
“No, it’s safe. Trust me. We won’t have any issues,” you said darkly as you walked out onto the landing platform.
Wind whipped your cloak behind you, exposing your face to the weather. The rain poured harder, chilling you to the bone. There was a wild fire in your eyes as you took in the storm around you. Closing your eyes and exhaling, a slight puff of air formed in front of your lips as the world melted away. The storm didn’t bother you anymore because you were the storm.
Artoo pulled the ship up and landed next to you. Your steps were measured as you made your way to the ship.
Sliding into the pilot’s seat, you were silent as you pulled up into the updraft, surging towards the upper atmosphere.
Your little droid cautiously rolled next to you as you started to set the navigational system.
He let out a concerned whimper.
“That’s where they said he is,” you replied with resolve as you punched the ship into hyperspace.
Artoo slowly rolled away from you, but you didn’t notice. You were too lost in your own thoughts.
After all these years, you’d finally have him. You’d have your chance to avenge the Order, to avenge the countless lives that died by his hand, to avenge Anakin. You’d be the one to tame the beast.
A flash of a smile broke through your thoughts. His smile. Anakin’s smile that Vader wore on his face, a mocking mask. The smile that had the power to restore the sun to the sky and warm your heart on the coldest night. Vader didn’t deserve that smile. But, a part of you had to wonder if the beast that was Vader was always inside of Anakin all along, if he had just released what was already his inner truth, or if it were like the old proverb about Loth wolves. There were two in every man, one good, one bad, and the one who is in control is the one you feed. Did that mean that Vader and Anakin were the same?
You were shivering, but you hadn’t noticed. Not until Artoo gave up on distancing himself to place a blanket in your lap.
“I loved him,” you admitted. You chewed your cheek for a moment, tears unshed. “He was my hero, and now he’s my enemy.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek.
Artoo emitted soft beeps.
“I know,” you murmured. “You loved him, too. That’s why you understand. Letting Vader live would be a foolish decision based off hope. Hope that he could come back. Hope that Anakin is still in there.” You swiped your face. “We both know he’s not. If we really loved Anakin, then we’d set him free.”
Artoo turned his head away from you.
You were resigned to the fact that this was your fate. Yours and his were always intertwined. The Force had made it so. You knew about all he was, and yet, you still admired him. You still loved him. It was the beast on exhibit that you watched with admiration. It was the natural predator you watched with awe that escaped and was wreaking havoc. It was the inexplicable pull to want what you shouldn’t have. The need to test fate to see if he’d destroy you, too, but the knowledge to know that if you got the chance, you should destroy him first for the good of the galaxy.
Mustafar came into view, and you let out a slight sigh. Finally, a warm planet.
Artoo rattled beside you, photoreceptor locked in on the planet as it came further and further into view.
As you got closer, you noticed him staring at you.
“What is it?” you asked, not turning to look at him.
He beeped sadly, ‘I have a bad feeling about this.’
You took the ship in for a landing, finding a landing platform to a fortress left unguarded. “He’s in there. I can feel it.”
Getting up, you peeled off your rain gear and grabbed your saber before heading towards the door.
Reaching up his arm, Artoo grabbed ahold of your shirt.
“Artoo, let go,” you said in slight annoyance.
He started to roll back to pull you into the ship.
“Artoo!” you exclaimed. “Stop!”
The droid stopped and looked down. He let go.
You took a knee in front of him, a glint in your eye. Placing your hand on his dome, you looked at him seriously. “Artoo, I have to do this. It’s the will of the force. If...” you trailed off with a sigh. “If I don’t come back within a standard hour, leave without me.”
Artoo affectionately bumped you.
“May the force be with you, too, little droid,” you said with a lopsided smile before heading down the ramp.
Artoo rolled out to the top of the ramp to watch you disappear into the fortress. He hated it here. Mustafar. He’d lost too many Masters here.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the heavy doors into the fortress. It was dark, with obsidian walls and floors that echoed your steps down the long hall. The magma through the viewports cast the fortress in an eerie glow. Your hand clenched the hilt of your lightsaber as you made your way down the hall. It was unnerving, hearing only the sounds of yourself amongst the silence.
Crossing through a threshold, you saw ornate sconces lining the walls of a throne room. There, seated on a throne of stone was Vader.
An amused smile settled onto his face as he took in your presence. His eyes trailed your body as his gaze turned from amusement to appreciation. You knew you had to look like a hot mess, yet he still regarded you as if you were the most attractive being in the galaxy.
“I was wrong to underestimate you, Padawan,” he smirked, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. “So you’ve come here to kill me?”
You ignited your saber, feeling your face heat up. It’s surely from the heat outside, though, you reassured yourself. It certainly wasn’t from the man who’s presence washed over you even from meters away, threatening to sweep you off your feet.
“Fight me,” you said with your teeth bared, “I won’t strike an unarmed man.”
His grin widened as he got up from his throne, leaving his cloak behind on the seat. He didn’t need it. His broad shoulders casted a shadow longer than the fabric did, anyway. “Oh, won’t you? I’ve been following your trail of destruction with great interest, little lamb.”
“Don’t call me that,” you spat.
“Of course not. You’re not a lamb anymore, are you?” he purred as he reached forward to drag a gloved finger down your cheek to your chin, hooking it under to look in your eyes. His pupils dilated as he took in your gaze. “No, you’ve become the hunter now.”
Vader stepped back and held his arms open towards you. “Do it. Strike me down.”
“I told you,” you repeated. “I won’t strike an unarmed man.”
“But, you already have,” he grinned. “Those platoons? Your missions in the outer rim for that band of rebels you call friends? Your little show of power on Mygeeto?” His voice dropped lower as his gaze turned serious. “Eadu.”
“No,” you said with a shake of your head, but your voice was shaking. “That was for the rebellion. It was justice. I am working towards freedom! Towards peace for all those families that the Empire has destroyed!”
“Did those men not have families? Did some of them even want to be there? Or were they just pawns in the greater scheme of things?” he asked with a raised brow. “I’m sure you of all people know what that feels like.”
His words stung, but the truth cut deep, like shrapnel from a bomb that you weren’t aware you were standing next to. You let your saber fall to your side, aimed at the ground.
Vader walked towards a wall of mirrors across the room that reflected the light from the lava. With the bend of his fingers towards his palm, your feet slid across the smooth stone floor until you stood next to him. His figure towered over you.
“Look in the mirror, little beast. Tell me, what do you see? Is it still you, or is it me?” he purred.
You looked at the reflections of the two of you. He was devoid of color. Devoid of life. A shadow in the night. You looked like a smuggler. A criminal. That was still a far cry from the truth, but it wasn’t hard for you to answer his question. “I’m nothing like you,” you ground out.
“Oh?” he asked softly, pushing you closer to the mirror. His hands rested on your shoulders as he forced you to look into your face. His lips grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Look again. Do you see it?”
Your mouth fell open as you noticed it, finally. All those glints over the course of months. The specks of gold that flickered in and out of your reflections had come to stay. Your eyes were no longer your own. They were just like his. A prickle of fear started to turn your blood cold, but not at the knowledge that your actions had done this. No, you felt fear at the fact that you wouldn’t take any of it back even if you could, because they had made you stronger, and you liked being strong.
“You are magnificent,” Vader breathed. “Ruthless. Passionate. Powerful.”
His eyes met yours in the mirror and for once you didn’t see anger or hatred. You saw admiration. Want. And it shook you to your core.
“No,” you said softly, trying to hold onto the teachings of your Master, but you could no longer recall their words of wisdom.
“Embrace the darkness,” he said emphatically, hands tightening on your shoulders. His words grew frantic as his hands slid down your arms to your wrists. “I will help you see that you could be limitless, fearless, if you follow me.” His voice grew softer as his nose dragged up your neck. “You’ve already had a taste of what you could have. You felt it on Eadu, didn’t you? Wasn’t it worth it?”
You shook him off and stepped away, rubbing your wrists where his residual warmth was. Eadu was wrong, but it felt so right. Your blade had decimated, but never had you felt more powerful, more in tune with the force. The force was lightning, and you were its rod, directing its fury onto the deserving who would subvert morality for their own gain.
“Are you still going to kill me?” he asked quietly.
“No,” you said dejectedly as you looked at the saber in your hand. It felt heavier than before. You couldn’t kill him. Not now. Not when you were the same.
“Don’t you see?” he asked, brushing your hair out of your face before cupping your cheek. “We are the lions in a world of lambs. We are the predators-the hunters. We don’t have to hide. You don’t have to hide. Not anymore. Join me.”
You leaned into his touch for a moment before you caught yourself and pushed his hand away.
Slowly, he started to circle you, but you didn’t feel like his prey. You felt like his equal. You didn’t cower. When he noticed you weren’t afraid, he came to a stop in front of you.
“Do you feel the hunger for more? More than a Jedi should? You could feel everything. You wouldn’t need to restrain yourself to the rules of a fallen order that left you to die alone. With power like yours, we could be unstoppable. We could rule- together,” Vader pleaded as he held his hand out to you.
“I thought the Emperor was your Master. There can only be two,” you murmured.
“Your point?” he asked as his eyes softened.
You took a step towards him.
His lip pulled up slightly at the corner.
As you locked eyes, you felt your heart slow to a steady rhythm. This was the most peace you’d felt in months. Here you were on equal footing- for now. Here you were no longer a Padawan. Here you were no longer a Jedi. You were just you, and that’s how he saw you. It was just like when you’d first met Anakin Skywalker. While others saw a lowly Padawan, he hadn’t seen rank. He’d seen you. And now... now you truly saw him. You saw a man who was willing to topple everything he knew for you. You saw a man who wasn’t afraid to feel. You saw a man that had taught you to not be ashamed to feel. Most of all, you saw a man you had never stopped loving.
You swallowed a lump in your throat.
Decision made.
You placed your hand on his shoulder. Your other hand came up to cup his face.
His smile turned genuine as he covered your hand with his.
Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to his lips. He started to kiss back as your eyes fluttered closed.
And then you pushed him down to his knees.
Finally, you were free.
#suitless!vader#Anakin Skywalker x Reader#darth vader x reader#Darth Vader#artoodetoo#bail organa#Mon Mothma#Vader X G/N Reader#g/n reader#star wars#Can I cram any more tags in here?#fanficiton#star wars fanfiction
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Lost Then Found - Bofur
Requested By: @prestongoodplayisbabey
Could I have a Bofur x reader where the reader gets lost (she’s part of the company) and when Bofur and the rest find her she’s eating a bear she caught with her own hands? I loved ur fic for @iwazoomingouttahere 💕
It’s probably a little different to what you were expecting but who doesn’t love a surprise amiright?! Also, I’m really glad that you liked the other fic so much that you wanted to request something for yourself so I hope that you like it
Warnings: A lil bit sad, wouldn’t say angsty though. Fluff. Mentions of death (animal). Mentions of blood. Mentions Bofur without his hat lmao. I think that’s it, don’t quote me on that.
Words: 2,713
Pairings: Bofur x Reader (female reader)
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It was definitely NOT your fault when you had become separated from the company. Everyone takes a wrong turn occasionally and loses the entire group they were travelling with. Right? It’s not like you heard a strange noise a bit away and went to investigate and when you returned, you found that they pressed on without you. If anything, it’s THEIR fault you were now separated from you. The big knuckleheads are completely oblivious sometimes. Anywho, that isn’t the point. It most certainly, definitely, absolutely WASN’T your fault.
Honestly, you actually had no clue in which direction they took off in but nevertheless, you followed your gut. They’re quite the noisy bunch so it shouldn’t be too hard to find them if you were on the right track. So, when you hear no rowdy group of 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard, you deducted that you either went the wrong way of they finally learnt the meaning of the word silence.
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You huffed as you sat down on the damp ground as you were surrounded by forestry. The towering trees and shrubbery provided great cover for when you slept alone at night. You brought your knapsack that contained your bedroll over to your side where you rested against the mossy tree. You wrestle your bedroll from its confinement within your sack and roll it out, ready for when you rest when it gets darker.
As you finish up sorting your sleeping arrangement, you turned and looked at the slight clearing which you’ve chosen to set up camp before groaning slightly and setting out ready to find whatever you could for kindling the fire you plan to build. You set out slightly away from where you’ve set up your bedroll and knapsack and begin searching the ground for anything that isn’t to damp and will burn.
All you can think about as you collect fuel for your campfire is of the company, more specifically, a certain dwarf who had captured your heart with his whittling, singing and goofy hat that never leaves his head. You sigh, wondering if he even cared that you had disappeared, if any of them cared really. You had been separated for almost a week, surely, they noticed at least.
You shake your head. ‘Of course, they care.’ You groaned as you realised you practically came to a standstill as your mind wandered instead of doing what you intended on doing so. You look at the singular stick within your hand and huff. “It’s gonna be a long night…”
_______________
Bofur’s mood had been off lately, everyone could tell, especially his brother and cousin. They all dearly missed Y/N and were concerned about where she is now and whether she is safe, but it’s Bofur who’s losing his mind over his missing One.
Bofur knew the moment he first laid on the girl that she was his One, he almost instantly confided in his brother and cousin about the subject. He even asked Balins’ ear off over what he should do. He loved how Y/N’s smile always happened to brighten up his day, or how her laugh could lure any man for it was easily mistakable for a sirens call.
He even loved how she was the only person to truly make him flush a deep red. She matched him perfectly when it came to humour, making him flush when a sarcastic, dirty joke passed her lips.
The dwarf sighed as he sat himself down on a log beside his cousin and the young princes’. The three all shared a concerned look towards each other then turned their gaze towards the love stricken, hat wearing whittler.
“Don’t worry Bofur, we’ll find her.” Fíli spoke, placing a comforting hand atop his companions’ shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile.
“Yeah. She’s probably right on our ass knowing her.” Kíli joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Bofur could only offer a solemn shrug and a smile that couldn’t meet his eyes. The brothers turned to Bifur, hoping he would know what to say.
Bifur shook his head and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly before looking towards his cousin and offering him the most comforting of smiles he could muster up. “We will find her soon. I promise cousin. We will find your One.”
Bofurs’ smile a tad bit more genuine at his cousins’ words. He sat up that little bit straighter before standing and facing towards Bombur who stood near the campfire. “I’m gonna see if Bombur needs help lads, thanks.” And with that, he slugged his way over, looking down towards the ground and sighing out deeply.
“Where the bloody hell are ya, lass…”
_______________
You head away from your camp and towards the deeper parts of the woods, ready to hunt for your meal. Crouching low to the ground, you spot small tracks, a rabbit most likely. You slowly and quietly followed the small tracks, hoping to come across meat for your food.
A small crackle within the bushes before you forced you to snap your head up. You smiled victoriously as you raised your bow and arrow, steadying your breathing, bringing your elbow back past your ear, forcing you to stare down the length of the piercing wood with a steel pointed head. ‘Got you, ya bastard.’
Just before you released your arrow to send the arrow piercing through the air, the small rabbit emerged from behind the bush, standing on its hind legs, revealing itself as not a small rabbit like you intended to find but a large, burly bear covered in a dark, fur coat.
You fell backwards from your crouched position on to your behind, clamping a hand over your mouth, your breathing becoming increasingly heavier, almost hyperventilating. Your eyes were wide with fear as the bear raised its snout into the air and sniffs, almost as if it were searching for you. You slowly crawled away backwards, putting some distance between you and the beast.
Your efforts had practically been futile.
The bear whipped its head towards you in a flash, staring at you for moment, a moment where you could only hold your breath and pray to whatever God could hear you. The beast released a loud, ground shaking roar, a heavy growl underlining it before it burst out into a run towards you. You scrambled to stand quickly and take lengthy steps back as you drew your sword, unsheathing it from its position at your hip, your bow and arrow long forgotten on the dirt ground.
It lunges towards you and you let a piercing scream tear its way through your throat. You drove your sword up into the chest cavity of the beast as it fell down from the force of its attack, impaling the beast on to your weapon.
It bawled out and whimpered in pain as it laid dying atop of your smaller form. You struggled to worm yourself out from underneath the beast and laid yourself beside it, sprawled out like a starfish and chest heaving heavily as your tried to catch your breath. “I’m sorry…” you whispered to the bear, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye.
You rolled on to your side and slowly came to a stand. You retrieved your dagger from your belt and stepped closer to the corpse. Embedding the blade into the bear, you began to skin and salvage any possible meat from the beast, your body quickly being covered in the luke-warm crimson liquid.
“I’m so, so sorry…”
_______________
The company had sat around the fire, eating whatever Bombur had been able to form into an appetising broth when they heard the loud roar of a beast. They all momentarily paused, all either halting their chewing or stilling the movement of the spoon coming closer to their mouths.
Their eyes travelled along each other as they sat a few moments in silence, some slowly lowering their bowls down, cautious if any over the few decibels they were making would draw whatever it was to them. But once they heard the feminine scream moments after, they jumped up and raced towards whatever they hoped to find.
Everyone was hopeful that it was their missing lass, all the while they wished it weren’t. The scream could never be a good sign. Bofur was the first to spring to action and burst through the treelines to head deeper into the woodland. All he could think is that his One could be in danger and he isn’t with her to protect her.
The others followed suit, rushing towards whatever it was. They dodged and weaved through trees and climbed over and under branched and roots. They ran and ran until they came across the carcass of a bear, a large one at that. It was partially missing some fur along with most of the meat that once encased its bones.
They searched the area, high and low. As Kíli crouched low towards the ground, he noticed the strange disturbances the ground had gone through. He assumed it was that of someone shuffling backwards in a vulnerable state. He brought the scuffle evident in the dirt to Thorins’ and the companies attention.
They backtracked the marks in the dirt and found where they had started, near a bush. They continued to search but one discovery had sent everyone into a state of panic and fear. Your bow and a singular arrow.
“She must’ve been here. You cannot deny it is hers!”
Finding your own tracks that came from your boots hadn’t been difficult to do. So, with that, they hastily followed your footprints, double and triple checking they were on the right track. A million thoughts whirled through their heads. What had happened? Were you alright? Had you been injured?
Bofur felt an array of emotions as he tailed the company, perplexed about what he had hoped to find. He so desperately hoped it was you, but what if they found you in a condition they so desperately didn’t want to come across. What he didn’t want to come across. He would never forgive himself if you had been injured or worse, never forgiving himself for not being able to protect you. His woman, his One.
He prayed to Mahal all throughout their search for you and soon, he found his prayer answered. There you were, sat beside a small campfire atop a thick coat of black fur, turning large chunks of meat over the fire, roasting it for your meal, all the while you were still covered nearly head to toe in nearly crisp dry blood.
Bofur dropped his weapon to the floor and rushed over to you, causing you to jump near enough a foot off the ground. “Mahal, Y/N, I’ve been worried sick!” He enveloped you in a bone crushing hug, dis-concerned about the blood, your shocked face and the other members who watched on. He pulled back ever so slightly and cup your face in between his hands, staring at you intensely. “Where did you run off to?!”
You swallowed down the dry lump that had formed into your throat and looked into his eyes, the other members of the company momentarily forgotten. “I uh-I heard a noise, so I went to check it out and when I came back, you guys weren’t there…” you trailed off, tears forming in your (E/C) orbs, threatening to spill at a moments notice. “I…I thought you guys didn’t care…”
The dam had broken and you now openly sobbed, tears had begun to stream down your face like salty waterfalls. Bofur had reacted quickly, bringing you into yet another hug, seeming more desperate than the last. You clung on to him like a scared child would cling on to their mother as you wept and wept into his chest. The other members all watched with saddened eyes, their hearts breaking the slightest at the thought of you thinking they hadn’t cared that you had disappeared.
“We’re right here lass, I’m right here. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Bofur whispered sweet, soothing words in your ear as he laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “I ain’t ever letting you out of my sight ever again, ya hear?” You sniffled and even released the faintest of giggles as you lifted your head up to look Bofur in the eye. He smiled down at you and you could do nothing but return it with a tiny one of your own. “Aye, there’s my lass and that beautiful smile. Not as beautiful as mine though.” He spoke to you with such love and care.
You had laughed once more, always thankful for Bofur and his attempt at making others smile. “I missed you.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against his own.
He beamed towards you as the words passed your lips. “I missed you more, amrálíme.” He spoke not even a decibel louder than you before planting his lips firmly against your own. You froze, shocked by what was happening, but before you knew it, you melted into the kiss and matched his passion and love, raising your arms to wrap loosely around his neck.
The company all had smiles etched across their faces, some of them cheering and realising high pitched wolf whistles. You two broke the kiss as if remembering you were surrounded by others. You flushed a deep red whilst Bofur only seemed to beam towards you once more.
“I would like it if you would allow me to court ya and braid your hair, lass.” He spoke with such confidence that it almost made you neglect the pink tint his cheeks adorned. All you could do was nod and smile sheepishly as your blush intensified. He grinned from ear to ear and kissed you once more, one you happily returned.
Parting, he stood and extended his hand down towards you. You placed your smaller hand into his own before his encased yours and pulled you gently to stand beside him. As soon as you gained your balance, Bombur had rushed towards you and crushed you in his own embrace, him clearly missing you a lot just like his brother. You chuckled as you hugged him back, the company also finding Bomburs affection amusing. It even elicited a deep, throaty chuckle from the ever-brooding Thorin.
You all headed back towards the camp the company had set up, not without grabbing your belonging along with the meat and fur you obtained for the bear you had the misfortune of running into. Bofur had a protective arm around you the entire time, not even removing himself from your side once you had reached the camp.
Bombur and Bifur had taken it upon themselves to cook yet another meal for the company, seeing as you had salvaged much meat from the beast. You all sat and ate, they barraged you with questions about the week you had been separated from them. They even asked about the bear you had taken down and how you lugged so much its meat back towards your makeshift sleeping area.
As you talked and talked with the company on how you had no clue if you were even heading in the right direction towards them, Bofur stared at you lovingly, afraid that if he were to blink, you would become separated once again.
He thanked Mahal a million times over in his head, thankful that they had found you again, that he had found you again. He smiled, removing his hat which he then proceeded to place atop of yours. It fell past your eye, obstructing your vision, causing you to push it up whilst you giggled.
Bofur released a chuckled of his own as he brough you further into his side and rest his head on top of yours. “Amrálíme?”
You smiled as you hear his hushed use of the affectionate name. “Yes Bofur?”
“I love you.”
You turned and looked up at him through your eyelashes, that hat of his threatening to fall over your eyes once again and smiled. “I love you.” You snuggled further into his warm, loving embrace and you both sighed in happiness and contentment.
He’ll be damned if he ever got separated from his One ever again. And Mahal help whoever stands in his way.
_______________
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First fic uploaded in 2021, lets gooooo!
It’s a little different to what the requester probably envisioned but the overall plot is still there so all I can hope is that they like it
BRO I HATED THAT I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT KILLING A BEAR, THAT SHIT SAD BRUH lmao
I hope you all enjoy
As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D
#bofur#bofur x#bofur x reader#bofur the dwarf#x reader#x female reader#x fem reader#x fem!reader#the hobbit#the hobbit fic#the hobbit fanfic#the hobbit fanfiction#the hobbit x#the hobbit x reader#fluff#thorin's company#thorin's company x reader
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Dorogaya[Epilogue]
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader.
Words: 1568
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst, and some smut.
Summary: It has been sometime since Y/N and Bucky went into hiding but now their past is returning. Can this new relationship survive the Civil War that’s about to happen?
Tags: @capstopavenger @empath-bunny @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything
A/N: I cannot believe I finished TWO stories, it’s a big moment. The next part of these series will be out at some point. I need to will myself to rewatch Infinity War. Thank you to everyone who had read both and stayed along for the ride. It means the world to me <3
I remember who she was, what she was to me. Hydra kidnapped her years ago and forced me to train her. They wanted her to be the female version of me, another winter soldier. I refused at first and was punished. They strapped me to that chair, burning my mind until I agreed. She was so beautiful, the first time I saw her she took my breath away.
The way her hair hung past her shoulders or the way she would chew on the left side of her bottom lip when she was nervous for our training sessions. I remember being drawn to the beauty mark right below her right eye, dark and prominent. It looked like a piece of jewelry on her.
My fingers shook as the tears fell from my eyes, staining the page, while I turned to the next one; Bucky’s written words mending my heart.
She was always afraid to fight me, I could tell in the way her heart would beat through her chest. I could hear it from my room across the building. I knew when she was asleep by the way her breathing would slow and I knew when she was awake from the soft voice coming from her room, signing a tune I found myself loving. She was the one that made the hell we were in bearable.
I may have forgotten everything at the hands of Hydra but there was always one thing I remembered; our last night together when we were captured together.
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, knowing exactly what night he was talking about.
I remember the way her back arched, chest exposed to the air, when I kissed my way down her stomach to her most prized area. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt my lips on her, savoring the way she tasted; salty with a tinge of sweetness. The feeling of her heels locking me into place, pulling me in closer and deeper. The beautiful sound of her moans was music to my ears; I could still hear it now. She was breathtaking that night and I hope to one day feel herself on me again.
The night air had done nothing to help my burning cheeks as I read that paragraph a few more times. I had been on my own for a few weeks now, Shuri and T’challa came to visit every once in a while to check on me or give me updates about Bucky. Occasionally, the young kids would come to get a look at the “White Wolf”, a nickname they gave Bucky, but would frown when I would inform them that he wasn’t with me yet.
Steve sent a few texts every now and then on a burner phone that he had given me. From the few conversations we had, I found out that him, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and Vision were on the run together. He wouldn’t tell me where, obviously, but I always wished him well.
The fire in front of me warmed my feet, keeping the night air from making me shiver, and I turned my attention back to Bucky’s journal.
She’s sitting across from me right now, reading a book, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Her lip is sucked between her teeth as she’s reading, the words unfamiliar to her. She wanted to learn Romanian. Her eyes are so bright, the color bringing a sense of familiarity to me. Every time she looks at me, I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until my last breath. The sun from outside had casted a warm glow around her like an angel. My Dorogaya.
I can’t find the right words to say it to her face but I love her; always had. Even though Hydra made her into something she has no control over, she doesn’t let it bother her. She focuses on helping me heal that she forgets she needs to heal herself. We made a promise that life on the run wouldn’t be permanent. I don’t care, I’d go anywhere with her.
A quick lick of my finger, the page turned easily between them.
She told me about her past with Steve. This unfamiliar feeling burned inside when she talked about how close they were. She claimed that Steve and I used to be best friends but I don’t remember. All I can remember is her.
The date on the last passage made my breath catch in my throat; the night before everything changed.
She was attacked at work tonight. I tried to talk to her about it but her powers took over. I never wanted this life for her, she doesn't deserve this life. She deserves everything good in the world so I sometimes wonder if I’m enough for her. I love her with every single feeling inside of me but I can’t find it in my heart to tell her. The words burn on my tongue, wanting to scream it at her but nothing comes out. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have with her before she realizes that I can’t move past everything that happened to me. I’m trying, for her, but the screams are too much. I promised that I would take care of her, give her everything she deserves, but I’m afraid that she’ll walk away. I can’t lose her, I love her so fucking much.
Feeling sad that I had finished reading the journal, I closed it with a loud sigh. It was full of memories of us and knowing that he remembered all of that made me fall more in love with him. He loved me all this time and knew that I was the one for him, he was just afraid that I would leave him for taking too long.
Never in a million years.
“Rogers, leave Natasha alone! That’s her pile of food!”
I chased around one of the goats before letting out a frustrated groan. It had been a few months now of my new life in Wakanda and to ease the loneliness I not only took up gardening like Steve had mentioned, I also decided to raise some goats.
Bad decision.
They kept me on my toes every single day, hence why I named them after Steve and Nat, but I had to admit that it gave me a reason to get up every day.
Shuri continued to visit after her sessions with Bucky, saying that he was doing well. She wanted to be careful in removing the words from his mind. Hydra had done a number on his brain and even if she could remove the words, he would still have to deal with the mental thoughts of exactly what happened in his past.
“You know,” Shuri spoke one day, “I saw a lot of memories involving you.”
I went red with embarrassment. “You did?”
She nodded. “He loves you very much. I think the thought of you is what’s keeping him alive. He’s dreaming peacefully now.”
I raised my shoulders in confusion. “Then when will he wake up?”
“I don’t know. Wherever he is ready,” Shuri admitted with a sigh.
The sun had begun to set so after a long time trying to wrangle the goats into their pen for the night, I was ready to turn in myself another night of sleeping alone.
“Dorogaya?”
My heels spun around with a flash at the familiar name. Standing in front of me was a very refreshed and relaxed looking man. His missing arm was covered with a sling of fabric. The soft breeze had wrapped around us, blowing his hair away from his eyes that shined with the familiar light I missed so much.
“Bucky?” I asked, words trembling.
I was afraid this was another dream I was having.
“I missed you,” he breathed while breaking out into a huge grin.
The bottom of my feet sped through the tall grass towards him and even with one arm, he had caught me with ease. Our lips danced for the first time in months but they never missed a beat. It was a teeth smacking, tongue dancing, kiss that fueled the fire deep within and the pleasure I felt from the both of us was almost too much to handle.
Reluctantly I pulled away but pinched his cheeks, just to make sure he was real.
“Ow,” he hissed. “What was that for?”
My smile reached my eyes, I was so happy.
“Just making sure it’s really you.”
He gave me another kiss. “I missed you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, smelling the familiar scent; teakwood and mint.
“I missed you too.” I admitted with a long sigh.
Still in his grasp, he looked around our little home with a proud smile. “You’ve made a nice home for yourself.”
Immediately I shook my head to correct him. “For us.”
We shared another passionate kiss and I could feel his feet move, walking us towards our hut.
“Show me around then, doll,” he hinted with a sly smirk.
For the first time in a very long time, Bucky and I laid tangled together in a mess of sweaty flesh and knotted sheets. Our proclamations of love bounced off the clay walls. Everything was perfect again and I was going to hold on tight to him. Nothing would come between us. We would finally be able to start our lives together.
My Soldat and his Dorogaya.
AND FIN!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes and reader#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes and reader#james buchanan barnes x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers and reader#reader insert#captain america#the winter soldier
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Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)
Part Two
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader
Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”
Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)
Word Count: 2,250
Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!
A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more!
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.
Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse.
“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”
“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”
“Awww is she gonna cry?”
The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.
He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself.
You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.
Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.
“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”
A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.
🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻
“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!”
You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.
You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.
“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”
He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.
Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud.
You hand the flower to Tanaka.
“On the house,” you wink back.
“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”
“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.”
The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.
“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”
He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform.
You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.
The back door to the supply room squeaks.
“A little help here?”
All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.
“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!”
She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.
Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.
“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?”
Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou?
Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.
“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”
You’re snapped out of the memory.
“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.”
Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.
“Who was that?”
You’re afraid of the answer.
You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?
Was he happy?
Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness?
“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”
“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”
Your mother blushes at the last part.
Favor? What favor?
But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.
Katsuki… is… working… here?
“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A.
It was the half-truth.
“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.”
It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him.
Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak.
“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.
Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.
“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!”
“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!”
Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.
The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass - and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.
Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.
“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”
“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”
“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”
“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”
Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.
You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic.
Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.
“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”
Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate.
You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.
Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you.
“And you must be Y/N? Your mother has told me so much about you!”
You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.
“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.”
Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over.
“Sup.”
Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?”
She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”
Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time.
“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.”
She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.
Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need.
Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”
She’s giving you a way out for the last time.
Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.
Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.
“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”
You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace.
You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.
For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.
“Welcome aboard,” you say.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha#bnhabookclub#bnha x reader#fanfic-me-up#bnha fanfic#mha#mha x reader#mha fanfic
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I Saw Her Tomorrow
the authors of the MayThe4th fic exchange have been revealed! I've been dying to share my gift for @ambiguityisnoonesfriend ever since I finished it, so here it is.
a huge thank you to @skitter-kitteruwu for beta reading!!
rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 7.8k words (4 chapters, complete)
link to full work
---
Hera, 0BBY
The wind whistled in her ears and whipped her lekku as Hera wrestled with the glider. Her exhilaration at flying was tempered by her awareness of the imminent danger. They were losing altitude fast, but their forward velocity was enough that the roof of the fuel station was getting bigger with every passing second.
"This is gonna be close!" she yelled to Kanan.
"It always is!" he called back. She knew he couldn’t see the precariousness of their situation, and yet he trusted her completely to fly them through it.
The glider skimmed over the lip of the building, barely clearing it. The durasteel frame screeched as it skidded over the roof, but didn’t crumple. She just about managed to hold on. The rush of another successful landing almost made her giddy.
Kanan was no longer beside her; he hadn’t been able to brace in time and had lost his grip on impact. His momentum had carried him over the glider’s nose to roll onto the roof.
He pushed himself up with a groan. "That was one of your better crashes."
Hera gave him a scandalised look as she dismounted and wagged a finger at him. "Kanan Jarrus, you know I never crash. I have very-"
"Very exciting landings," he finished for her with a smile, grabbing the admonishing hand. "Thanks for reminding me. Come on!" He pulled her towards the middle of the roof and away from the pursuing Imperials.
After a few steps she had to stop him from running over the edge; the Empire hadn't yet finished covering the station. She was about to tell him off for not seeing it, but then she stopped herself with a giggle. He was blind; he couldn’t see anything.
His head jerked as though he suddenly sensed what was in front of them. He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, clearly displeased with how exposed they were, and grabbed his commlink.
"Spectre-5, do you read? How are you coming with that ship?"
"Kanan! Did you get her?" Sabine's tinny voice came through from the other end. Hera hadn’t even realised she’d been worried, but she felt something unclench slightly from around her heart at the sound.
"Of course he did," she replied, leaning into Kanan slightly to reach the small device. She immediately lost her balance, but he caught her without missing a beat and nudged her back upright. Maybe those interrogation drugs weren’t out of her system quite yet.
"There’s been a change of plans," Kanan was saying into the comm. "We need a pickup–"
"At the fuel station," Sabine cut in, "I know. The Empire does too."
He grimaced. She found herself fascinated by how naked his mouth looked without his beard surrounding it. "Well, let’s hope you get to us fi–"
"Hold on, there are new orders coming through." She paused. "All ships are being ordered to maintain high altitude to allow a bombing run on the fuel station."
"What?" Kanan yelped. "They’ll blow up the whole factory if they do that!"
Sabine sounded like she was still listening to the Imperial orders. "Apparently the roof is reinforced, and can take a hit."
"The roof is unfinished! There’s a giant hole in it!" Kanan gestured towards it even though there was no visual link on the comm.
"I guess Pryce really doesn’t want us getting away," Hera muttered.
"Kanan, it doesn’t matter." There was a definite note of panic in Sabine’s voice now, and it was mirrored by a rising fear in Hera. "I’m not gonna be able to get down to you before the bomber arrives without blowing our cover and getting shot to pieces!"
"That’s not a problem. Just get directly overhead, as quickly as you can. Tell Ezra to be ready to catch us – just like we practised."
Hera heard Sabine’s shaky breath over the comm. "I’ll let you know when I’m in position."
The light blinked off.
This was bad. Adrenaline returned to Hera’s body, chasing away the drug-induced fog that had started clouding her brain since they’d landed. What was Kanan up to?
"What do you have planned?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"When they get here, I’ll jump," he said simply. "I can get pretty high, and Ezra can pull us the rest of the way from above."
Her mind conjured the image of him cradling her in his arms as they soared upwards, just like in every ridiculous superhero holo they’d watched together.
Except this one isn’t ridiculous, because he would do that.
He would always come to save her. Whatever it took, he would always be there. He’d fly into the middle of a maximum security Imperial complex on a few pieces of scrap metal and junk, cut her free of her bonds, fight off a nightmarish assassin and escape an impossible dead-end situation by calling on his supernatural powers.
She felt a wave of emotion rise within her, a surge of warmth that threatened to spill into tears. Did he even know how incredibly important he was to her? They’d been so focused on fighting for so long, they’d had to actively find time to be alone together before she’d left. She’d figure out how to break the other news later, but right now there was one thing Hera needed to say to him.
"Kanan," she started. His attention immediately focused on her; there was something in her voice, something soft and vulnerable, yet serious. "I know it’s been a while since I’ve said it, and I know this isn’t really the moment, but… I love you."
Her ungloved fingers stroked the exposed skin of his cheek. He turned his head slightly in response so that his lips brushed her palm.
"I know," he said simply. It was the best thing he could have said. "And I love you too."
Her mouth curved into a smile as she pushed herself up onto her toes to kiss him. He returned the kiss, the press of his lips against hers achingly familiar, like coming home. Less familiar was the scratch of stubble; after years of having a beard, she’d forgotten what it was like to kiss Kanan without one.
They were interrupted by the familiar scream of twin ion engines approaching.
"Sabine!" Kanan shouted frantically into the comm. "Where are you? The bomber’s here!"
Her response was drowned out by the TIE bomber.
It swept overhead, blotting out the light from both moons. Hera wrapped her arms tightly around Kanan’s torso. Throughout her capture and subsequent torture she’d never once lost faith that he would come and rescue her, but now, faced with their current situation, that hope finally flickered. Their last moments were upon them.
At least they were together.
The bomber passed, the whine of the engines deepening as it retreated, but the shadow remained. Hera looked up and saw, suspended in the air above them, the unmistakable silhouette of a baradium missile.
She relaxed her grip on Kanan and realised he had thrust his arms out towards the sky, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. He’d caught the missile! Her brave, brilliant Jedi.
"Kanan?" she asked tentatively. "Can you... put that down? We've got to get off this roof before they make another pass."
"I'm holding the proton charge detonator," he said through gritted teeth. She felt her stomach drop through her feet; he couldn’t let go without activating the missile. The whole station would go up with it. "Can’t jump without letting go. Or sending it up to the kids. But I can still throw you."
"But – what about you?" She knew the answer even as she asked, but her brain was refusing to accept it.
His sightless eyes locked on to her face. His expression was an unreadable mask. "I'm not making it out of this one."
No.
No, no no.
She was shaking her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "I’m not leaving without you."
"Yes, you are," he insisted. "And you’re going to be okay. Don’t ask me how I know this, but you’re going to move on, and you will be happy again. I’m certain of it. And that’s all I ever wanted."
"Kanan–"
The comm beeped again.
"We’re in position! Kanan, now!"
Sabine’s words had barely sunk in when she felt herself gripped by an unseen hand, and then she was flying through the air. She caught a glimpse of the whole station below her – the square roof framing the round hole that in turn framed gleaming stacks of construction material, the bomb hovering off-center and ruining the symmetry – before her vision went dark.
She felt the wind from the TIE bomber as it raced below her at the same time as a second invisible force grabbed her. It twisted her in midair, and now she was rushing towards an Imperial patrol transport. A single figure in a fighter pilot’s uniform stood in the troop bay with arms outstretched.
By the time Ezra had pulled her into the transport beside him and she was able to turn back around, the fuel station was an expanding ball of fire.
Kanan was gone.
---
Chapter 2 (AO3) ->
#kanera#kanan jarrus#hera syndulla#star wars rebels#star wars: rebels#star wars#may the fourth be with you#maythe4thbewithyou#jedi night#jedi night fix it#fic#really hope i've got the scheduling right here#in theory the reveal should have happened 5 minutes ago#i wasn't going to stay up til 1am to post but i have been unbelievably excited to share this for the last 2 weeks#pretchwritta
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Chapter 21 - Game of War
TW: guns, minor character death, recapture, bound and gagged
Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow
-
One particularly large raindrop hit Charlie’s window, making a loud enough smack to wake him. His eyes opened to see Sasha, who began nibbling at his nose.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” He greeted softly. She let out a tiny meow, as if she was returning the sentiment. Charlie pet her for a little while before sitting up and stretching.
The bones in his legs cracked as he stood from his bed. He opened the bag of cat food and shoveled a scoop into Sasha’s bowl. He realized he hadn’t given her any water, and apologized to her before heading out to the kitchen. Nobody was in the kitchen nor the living room, and Charlie was almost grateful. He filled a small bowl with water and took it back into his room, setting it on the floor for Sasha.
He went back out to make himself something to eat, and decided on cereal. He had a dull headache, most likely from all the crying he had done the night before. Ethan emerged from his room as Charlie sat down at the table with his cereal.
“Hey,” Charlie said.
“Morning. How do you feel?” Ethan asked.
“I’m fine,” Charlie replied.
Ethan made himself a bagel before sitting at the table. Charlie scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, bored of seeing the same shit from high school “friends”.
“Wanna talk about what happened last night?” Ethan asked.
“Not really,” Charlie replied, not looking up from his phone.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he’s not mad at you anymore. I explained to him that you have Stockholm Syndrome, and he felt like an arse.”
Charlie dropped his spoon.
“The fuck is that?”
“You haven’t heard of it? It’s when somebody bonds with their captor. There’s even been cases of hostages falling in love with their captors,” Ethan explained.
“Okay, wait. I’m not in love with him,” Charlie said.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I don’t think it’s that, Ethan. I feel guilty about it.”
“Well, it’s a complex thing. There hasn’t been much research, unfortunately. Either way, Crow isn’t upset anymore, and that means we can focus on figuring out what the hell we’re going to do.”
They finished eating, and Ethan decided to go for a jog. Charlie had the house to himself. He wasn’t sure where the others had gone, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to go into town for any number of errands. He raided the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen, then tried to make himself useful by tidying up. He swept the floors, wiped down the kitchen, and cleaned the windows.
As he finished shining the last window, he saw the Jeep pull up to the house. Crow, Deke, and Adrian walked in with a few shopping bags. Crow motioned for Charlie to follow him outside. They went into the yard, and Crow offered him a cigarette.
“I just wanted to apologize,” Crow said, “I was drunk and angry, which isn’t an excuse for my actions, but I would never have done that if I was sober.”
“I forgive you. I think you have the right to be upset with me,” Charlie replied.
“No, I don’t. You’re… hurt. I don’t know all that you’ve been though, and I should have been more understanding.”
“It’s okay.”
They stood silently, taking drags off of their cigarettes. The tension seemed to melt away, and Charlie was glad that this hadn’t ended up a lasting conflict.
“I finally got command to talk,” Crow finally spoke.
“What’d they say?” Charlie asked.
“They want us to let him go. The whole conversation just felt off, and I can’t help but shake the feeling that Mallory is telling the truth. I don’t know about the assassination part of it, but they want this dropped.”
Charlie threw his cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with his shoe.
“So they’re just going to let him get away with all this?”
“That’s what it sounds like. But, if we let him go, you know as well as I do that he’s not going to leave us alone.”
“Right.”
Crow dropped his cigarette and they went back inside. Ethan was back from his jog, making a smoothie in the kitchen. After he was done with the blender, Crow called for everyone to gather at the dining table.
“I’m going to attempt to get more information from him about this conspiracy,” he said, “I don’t need all of you down there, but I want you to listen from the door, at least.”
He, Charlie, and Adrian went downstairs, while Ethan and Deke waited by the door. Mallory looked paler than usual, probably due to the lack of sustenance.
“Tell us more about this supposedly partnership you have with the government,” Crow said.
“Why? Do you finally believe me?” Mallory asked.
“Not sure yet. Talk.”
“I guarantee you that you’ll all be dead within a week if you don’t do anything. Not that I care,” Mallory said.
Crow glanced at Adrian and Charlie before responding.
“Why?” He questioned.
“Like I said, I was supposed to kill you. It was my way of telling them that they could trust me, by giving them an alibi,” Mallory said.
“Why didn’t you kill us, then?” Adrian asked.
“They didn’t say I couldn’t have a little fun first,” Mallory replied.
Suddenly, Ethan and Deke began to yell, and unfamiliar voices joined in the cacophony. Crow ran to the gun closet, fumbling with the two padlocks for a moment before getting the door open. He threw pistols to Charlie and Adrian, before arming himself and aiming upstairs.
Rudy appeared in the doorway with his gun pointed at Ethan’s head, using him as a shield.
“Drop your weapons and back away, or this twink gets his head blown off,” he threatened.
Charlie backed into the corner where he couldn’t be seen. Crow and Adrian dropped their guns once they realized Charlie’s plan. Rudy threw Ethan to the side and started down the steps, his gun locked on the pair. Mallory kept silent.
When Rudy came into his sights, Charlie fired his gun until it was empty. Five or six men flooded into the basement screaming, rifles at the ready. They were left with no choice but to drop to their knees and surrender. As their wrists were being bound, Mallory was freed.
They were forced up the stairs at gunpoint. Ethan and Deke were already bound. Mallory took an apple from the kitchen and ate it while he paced around.
“Get them loaded up,” he said.
They were filed out the door to four black vans parked in front of the house. Crow and Deke were put into one, Ethan and Adrian into another, and Charlie was alone in the last one. He assumed the other one was for the remaining soldiers.
After a few minutes, Mallory climbed into the passenger seat. He threw a duffel bag next to Charlie. Sasha climbed up onto his shoulder.
“Thanks for taking care of her, love,” he said.
Charlie didn’t say a word. His mind was blank, and he found himself dissociating.
“And thanks for taking care of Rudy. Never thought I’d get rid of that fool.”
Mallory didn’t speak to him again for the rest of the drive, besides threatening him whenever they stopped for fuel. Charlie had somehow managed to doze off, and only woke up when the rear doors were opened. He found himself at the compound again. Only, he wasn’t lead inside. He was walked to the runway, where a cargo plane was waiting, along with the rest of his team. A blindfold and a gag later, they were loaded into the plane.
Being in the same position for seventeen hours wasn’t comfortable, to say the least. The cloth dug into the corner’s of Charlie’s mouth, and he wanted a drink of water more than anything. His legs had forgotten how to work after being stuck for so long. He stumbled as he was lead off the plane, and the first thing he noticed was how much warmer it was wherever they were.
It was a long walk until the relief of air conditioning hit him in the face. A few doors opened, until he heard some keys jingle, and he was lead through one final door. His hands were freed, and the door was shut. He ripped off the blindfold and the gag, and was confused to find himself somewhere that resembled a cheap hotel room. There was no window, and the furniture consisted of a twin bed with no sheets, dresser, desk and chair, and a small lamp. There was a tiny bathroom at the front of the room, which he immediately utilized.
Charlie then tried the door, which was of course locked. Not knowing what else to do, he lied on the bed, and tried to make sense of this new situation.
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A Story in Spring : Renewal {1/3}
"I have a proposition for you."
The walls of the fallen seraph's humble hut had so far been something of a passive comfort, yet Lithirill found no sense of ease. Her host, and fellow Tel'lmaltath could certainly tell, eyeing her with some hint of concern, slowly rising to his full height, turning to face her once the fire had suitably caught.
"Go on."
The encouraging mannerism was commonplace in their interactions thus far, but it didn't do much to make her desirous of speaking her mind, as images played in her head of all she had been plotting in secret, only thinking to bring the matter to him when she -knew- beyond a doubt she could -achieve- her goals.
"It is a...personal matter, to you specifically. I hesitate to even ask, truthfully."
At that notion, her company raised a sculpted brow. How he might've read her words differed from what she seemed to mean by her body language; a normally stood straight, confident woman now half hunched and barely maintaining eye contact. He simply watched, resting a hand along his hip. It was the only prompt to continue she was going to get.
"...Right. -Arkt-. I will speak plainly." even then she hesitated, a sigh accompanying an expression of complete honesty, "...I want to reconstruct your wings. I would see you fly again."
There weren't many things reality could offer him that still surprised, but that had done it, the gentle carefulness in her tone most of all. It wasn't just an offer, but a plea. Arkt's gaze fell to his floorboards, called back to the moment she had seen the tattered remnants, and the conversation that followed where he learned much and more about the individual he chose to champion.
Her perseverance in the face of impossible odds had ensured his second chance at freedom from past mistakes, yet here she was still giving. It was not debt fueling her either, but desire, leading him to a thought forgotten sensation; confoundment.
Lithirill only fidgeted in the quiet, narrowing her eyes in passive calculation, half braced for some kind of impact.
It took him some several moments to recover, clearing his throat. The ever-present ache at his back he'd still struggled with flared up. Even to this day, the injury pained him, centuries "dead" had been his only reprieve.
"You are firmly familiar with the reasons I lost them in the first place..." he began, watching his company instinctively tense, ready for rejection; instead he would give her a question, "Knowing that, I must ask -why-? To what end would you go to such efforts?"
Asked with genuine curiosity, over any manner of accusation; he suspected her of nothing.
Lithirill nodded, crossing her arms and easing her weight onto one leg.
"History was one among a few reasons I have debated asking. As for why, well. I feel there are certain wrongs afflicted to those I’ve come to care for, and it is within my power to unravel those wrongs.”
Arkt watched her carefully crafted mask slipping, the woman ever at odds with herself. He wondered if there would ever be a time where she did not engage in the practice, and simply felt at home in his company.
"As you did with Arantheal?" he questioned, curious to see if he could keep her at that boundary.
Lithirill puzzled over the question for a moment, pondering if it was harmless comparison or an accusation. Foolish to think it the latter, knowing Arkt had no history of resisting her intent.
"...Yes. As I did -for- Narathzul." She corrected, offering a sideways nod and a shrug, "Know I don't need an answer -today-. I only wanted you to know that the idea lingered in mind long enough to...plan for.”
Ultimately, Arkt was touched. Shock still kept a whirlwind of emotions at bay at the mere hint of taking to the skies again, permitting the warmth of the smile behind his veil to only grow as he watched her. She was not having so easy a time, clearly having wrestled with herself on the matter for awhile.
"Is this what has kept you from your usual visits of late?" he wondered, gesturing with a hand in a motion pushing down from his midsection; 'Relax.' he said silently.
Her eyes followed his hand, flicking up to his face like the lash of a serpent's tongue before she took in a breath and let it out, chuckling to herself.
"In part. Alongside the politicking and the visits somewhere warmer. Thoughts?"
He sighed through his nose as he partly answered with the considering tilt of his head and a prolonged shutting of his eyes, continuing to chew on the notion.
"Too many to rightly voice in a manner composed or remotely understandable. Would you mind returning to Castle Darlan for the moment? I'll have an answer for you come the evening."
"Of course.~"
The professional manner in which she pulled herself together and turned from him showed a wall climbing between them that he had no patience for, the old seraph chuckling when she moved to open the door.
"Lithirill."
She twitched, shoulders bunching as her fingers fumbled at the doorknob, before she straightened again and smiled a familiar, shy curve over her shoulder. Her eyes lit up a touch when she saw he’d pulled down his veil.
"Yes?"
"...Thank you." he spoke, genuine appreciation clear in his expression.
A hint of color, and the wall scattered; his only goal in the moment. She departed with an amused, "See you soon.", quickly on her way.
~~~
As promised, Arkt had arrived that evening, uncharacteristically anxious, but Lithirill could hardly blame him. She could not imagine the weight of what her offer truly meant to him.
In times long gone, the loss of his wings, however deeply traumatic, had served a purpose; symbols had power, as much in their creation as their destruction and his fall signaled the end of an era where the Lightborn could rule without fear of repercussion.
Yet now that all his battles were over, and this new life lay before him...
It was not long before the old seraph was waxing poetic, teetering back and forth in his words, as was his way. He all but danced between every sentence- whilst Lithirill only offered more wine when his glass neared empty. She refused to rush him in coming to a decision, simply enjoying his company, equal parts devilishly curious and genuinely empathetic.
Such camaraderie came to it's end at the dawn of the following day, Arkt admitting in the quiet of the morning fog that he accepted her offer; even with her many warnings of risk and pain, he had seen firsthand what she was capable of; he knew he was in good hands, even if a fair few of her achievements were with his shadowed aid.
Two weeks had passed since he agreed to her offer, wasting no time in getting started.
The first bout had been the hardest thus far- having not yet known just how -much- it took to render a seraph numb, and having the unfortunate task of plucking the feathers he still had. A meticulous, painful, unexpectedly bloody process...but it was safer to start with a clean slate than try to rebuild all that was under them when half the limb had been shorn down to bare bone.
Trippling the dosages from there made things much easier, at least for Arkt.
His struggle was not with pain in the familiar sense now, it came instead from a nameless sensation; the agonizingly slow return of what should never be, able to sense every -tiny- thread of what was lost reconnect. It was as torturous as it was euphoric, and it could only be overcome by sheer force of will.
Tonight would be no different. Lithirill had learned his tells after a few sessions. When in the throes of her spell work, she could spare little attention for observance, but awareness returned as she dialed back, murmuring gentle nothings mostly for her own comfort; though it signaled to Arkt he could stop taking such measured breaths.
The touch of the Sea crept away like the retreating tide, Arkt opening hazy eyes, idly stretching his fingers. He knew well enough not to move until his companion told him to do so, watching her over his shoulder.
There was a slight notion of fear that kept him from immediately looking upon his wings, naked and ghastly as they were. He only had eyes for Lithirill's face, noting the knitted brow and how she clicked her tongue when observing progress, pondering how to proceed.
"I'd hoped to have had bone completely covered by now..." she lamented, drawing again the magicked circles that held his wings in subtle regeneration between sessions, "I've underestimated how deeply the burns go. I should’ve-”
"You need not fret, Lithirill." Arkt spoke up, a look of assurance crossing fair features, "This shall take as long as it will take, and you have plenty to grapple with without adding the unnecessary elements of haste and worry.~"
"...Perhaps. Still, I don't savor putting you through further pain I could have avoided." she spoke idly, glad he could not feel it as she undid the slings above, gently moving the humble beginnings to rest on cushions whilst she worked tension from developing musculature.
"We went into this knowing it would be difficult. We will endure." he replied, his tone as much an attempt to comfort as it was a statement of fact; she was far too deep in it now to safely -stop-. "Which for you to manage, requires heady use of those flasks behind you, as I recall."
It was a gentle, but earnest jab to not neglect her own health whilst taking care of him. She might have been Tel'lmaltath, but healing at -this- level for such prolonged bouts tested the limits of even legendary resolves, and Arkt did not fancy the idea of a Shadow God turned Oorbaya.
Satisfied with her ministrations, she sighed and nodded, letting her hand trail down his back as she turned and gingerly stepped away to pluck a flask of Ambrosia from a stockpile.
The edges of a smirk tugged at his lips as she made a show of drinking half the vial like it didn't taste awful, raising both brows at him in a silent 'satisfied?'.
"...-Thank- you." he muttered, humming a chuckle, "Do not lose sight of your own well being in concern for me. I must stress, we have nothing but time."
Lithirill tilted her head at him as her eyelids drooped, well accustomed now to the odd heated popping in her ears as the Ambrosia did its work, blanketing the red pressure in her head and quieting the skittering under her skin.
"-Now- whose fretting?" she teased, setting down the flask so she could help him to stand, not letting his wings droop as she supported them from the base, "I don't intend to go hurrying into the arms of the Blue Death, I promise. Come now.~"
Twas a short jaunt to the spare bedroom within her personal quarters, Arkt leading the way and Lithirill matching his steps. The seraph counted his blessings that his pride could not be so easily wounded as she settled his wings into yet another set of slings, these ones arranged to allow them to safely hang whilst he rested. He knew -she- worried about such mental troubles, but he was far too old and that much more taken by fascination in all she insisted upon doing for him to care for foolish things like shame.
"Tell me something, Lithirill." he said, eyes on her as she arranged the vials that would help him sleep, and come the morn, ease his pain, "What do you suppose I'm meant to do in return for all of this?"
The question was laced with an undertone of playfulness that reminded her of when the seraph had taken an almost catty tone in Arktwend, all but making -gossip- of the infatuation between those who'd brought Narathzul into the world.
She could only raise a brow at him in plain curiosity, willfully stepping into whatever trap this might have been.
"That is hardly a matter to burden the likely recipient, don't you think? Or am I -supposed- to be reading between some manner of line here?"
The teasingly scrutinizing gaze she leveled upon him was nothing to the coy look he gave her beneath the messy strands of his hair, the two locked in a quiet contest before she relented; as she always did where he was concerned.
"...ponder and plot all you like, my friend. But hold to that patience you've assured me with. I would say it is early yet to be planning anything more than recovery." she offered.
Arkt sighed through his nose at that, uncapping the cork to her sleeping drought and drinking it down with a quick chaser of water. Her answer was as good as any. Ponder and plot indeed then.
"Fair enough. Rest well, when you find it." he bid gently, offering only a smile.
For a would be God according to most's definition, who had seen millennia pass and returned even from -death-, he seemed to be handling the life of a crippled patient quite well.
Lithirill could only take that profound patience and trust in her ability to heart; ensure no matter her doubts that she'd finish the job.
She returned the evening farewell and meandered to her own bed, falling upon it like a stone. All too swiftly would the sun rise, and the pair would be again until their great task of renewal was complete.
Lithirill could only hope she'd be done by Spring.
~Fin~
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Can I request 6 and 18 for the holiday prompts, with a male MC in a poly relationship with Shingen and Kenshin? Maybe have Kenshin dress up as a bunny (I saw a really funny post about that once). Go wild, and please, if you don’t want to do poly, then either or is fine, and same with the prompts! Thank you for opening up prompts!
Wow! OK! this took a hOt minute to make but boy was it fun.
This is actually 2 firsts for me, my first time writing a poly relationship & with a male reader so thank you Lovely Anon ! :3
You said to “go wild” and wild I went I probably could’ve gone crazier lol
Also I personally thought for this prompt the Kenshin bunny costume didn’t fit sorry >.< BUT I will say that a Kenshin in a bunny costume could be a fun idea for another time (if thats something you’d like please tell me and whether its also with a male reader too)
Enjoy ~
Prompt: Naughty #18: “These cookies look delicious but . . . you look better.”
Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku
Pairing: Shingen x M! Reader x Kenshin
Word Count: 3,942 words
Warning(s): 18+ NSFW, rougher sex, dirty talk, praise, degrading, Dom & Sub,
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It’s Friday night and is nearing 7 o’clock which is around the time that Shingen and Kenshin come home from work. Since it’s the weekend you usually have a few drinks together at the end of the night but you wanted to change it up just a bit. So you made dinner as you normally do but thought it'd be nice to also bake some treats as a little surprise. Not only because you know Shingen likes his fair share of sweet treats but also because the holiday season is upon us and there is nothing like cuddling up by the fire with some treats and cocoa or a cocktail with your two favorite people.
With dinner sitting in the oven to keep warm, as you are frosting the festively cut sugar cookies you hear muffled voices behind the door, keys jiggle in the lock till the door behind you opens welcoming your lovers from a long day at work.
“We’re home.” Shingen says.
“How was work?” You ask. Both men took off their shoes and stripped themselves of their jackets and other winter apparel.
“Tiring.” Kenshin says flatley as he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of sake. Chuckling a bit Shingen adds
“We had to endure a few meetings and you know how well Kenshin deals with other people.” You laugh at the comment and you hear a quick tsk from the silver haired man. Dropping the keys on the little entry table Shingen grins seeing you working away in the kitchen.
“What's got you so busy over here, my Prince?” He asks. His sweet words paint a smile on your face. Enveloping you in a hug from behind resting his chin on your shoulder he gazes down at your little cookie decorating station. Parchment paper laid out, little ceramic dishes with an assortment of sprinkles and two bowls of blue and white frosting.
“I’m decorating the cookies I baked earlier. I thought after dinner we could build the fire and enjoy some while watching a movie or something.” You say. Listening to your sweet ideas warms the tall man's heart.
“Hmmm.” Shingen’s chest rumbles against your back. His strong arms firmly wrapped around your waist. Burying his nose into your neck breathing in your scent, leaving behind feather light kisses that send shivers down your spine.
“You know Y/n you’re truly too good for us.” He says, making you giggle. Before you can argue his statement he continues.
“I mean all day we are at work and to be able to come back to a home cooked meal is unmatched.” Placing kisses on your shoulder he begins to undo the tie on the back of your apron. “I just want you to know that your efforts never go unnoticed by us.” He says, his breath tickling your ear. His gentle touches make your eyes close, losing yourself in his hands. Hands that were once caressing and squeezing your hips making your breath hitch, turn you around. Pressed up against the counter, gazing into those sultry grey eyes, your lips slightly parted in anticipation.
“I just have to say, my sweet, these cookies look delicious but...” He pauses, licking his lower lip, looking you up and down. “You look better.~” His words laced with lust makes your head feel light at the thought of what those words could entail.
Without another word he captures your lips in a kiss. A kiss of burning passion. Fingers curled in your locks and pulling you near. You feel your cheeks grow flush from the heat that begins to spread within you. Pulling away, breathless. Hungry for more of his touch. Taking your hand leading you out of the kitchen into the living room where Kenshin waits, with your baking long forgotten. Sprawled in the end corner of the sectional, legs crossed, arms resting on the back, with sake cup in hand as one of his long fingers melodically taps the brim. A fox like stare fixed on you, his confident aura affects you much like Shingen’s sensualness. But instead of light touches and passionate words, Kenshin's seductive powers come from his pride and his ego. He draws you in purley with just a look of arrogance, because he knows he can have you anyway he wants at that moment, having you beg for more.
Sitting you on the couch, one on either side of you. Shingen directs your eyes to him with a pull of his finger under your chin. “Tell me Y/n will you allow us to show you our gratitude for all you do for us?” He asks. A sweet smile across his lips. Caressing your cheek you shudder. Your breath catches in your throat, unable to give a verbal response you nod your head doe-eyed. “Great.” He says with a cheeky grin, pulling your chin up to kiss him.
Your senses begin to fill with the feeling of Shingen’s strong hands roaming your body and the taste of his mouth on your tongue. Growing tired of watching, Kenshin reaches forward, stealing you from the brunette's grasp.
Your tongues dancing together in a battle of dominance. Keshin wins obviously. Overpowering you with his grip in your hair and nips of his lips on yours. Feeling drunk from his hold on you, unsure if it’s due to his dominant energy or the sake on his tongue. Pulling your head back by your hair he begins to assault your neck. Leaving tiny red and purple marks across your once pristine neck. Whilst Kenshin was feasting on your lips and neck, Shingen was beside you unbuttoning your shirt and cressing your whole body. dragging his fingertips over your exposed chest and stomach making you tremmer. Stripping you of your shirt, he kisses your bare shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
“I love the way you shudder under our touch. Seeing you being ravished beside me is a sight to behold.” He says in a low hum as he begins to palm your growing excitement through your pants. “Kenshin I believe our Y/n seems ready for more. What do you say?” He asks. Kenshin pulls back, both men looking at you as you nod your head in agreement.
“Do you want to watch us undress for you or would you like to undress us yourself?” Kenshin asks you, his mismatched eyes boring into you. Feeling flustered by the situation you try to gather your thoughts.
“You can do it.” You say, your words come out a bit shaky.
“If a show is what he wants, then a show he shall have.” Shingen says playfully as he stands up.
Standing before you, the two men begin to kiss as they make work of each other's shirts. Their bare chests, both lean and sharp -as if they were carved from stone - on display for you. The view of them fondling and kissing each other in front of you makes your pants tighter than before. Sinking to his knees, Shingen slides off Kenshin’s belt and begins to pull down his trousers. Looking up at the white haired man through his lashes he places a trail of kisses from his belly button down to the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Slowly pulling them down, springing his erect member free from it’s cloth prison, Kenshin emits a soft sigh from the relief. Combing his hand through Shingen’s hair, guiding him to take in his length. Shingen’s hand wrapped around the base, he opens his mouth invitingly.
Sheathing his penis in Shingen’s mouth Kenshin begins to slowly pump into him.
Pushing his hair back with his free hand Kenshin looks over at you. Eyes locked. Enjoying your eyes on him during this scandalous act fueling his voyeuristic desires.
“Take off your pants.” He commands. His eyes not leaving yours.
You obey.
Your fingers fumble with your belt buckle and button. Unzipping your jeans you slide out of them, sitting in just your underwear.
“Your boxers too.” He commands agan. Each word has more power behind it. Doing as you were told leaving you with nowhere to hide. Kenshin hums to himself, satisfied with your obedience. “Touch yourself.” He says, embarrassed by his request you hesitate before you take yourself in your hand and begin to make slow strokes up and down your shaft. With each passing minute of watching your lovers, your pace slightly increases.
The room fills with sounds of gagging and moans. Every so often you hear a whispered curse or string of praise come from Kenshin. “Fuck, that feels good.” Not wanting you to get too far he stops you. “That’s enough.” His powerful words command your body to halt. Shingen detaches from Kenshin gasping. Looking at each other, communicating with just their eyes Shingen nods his head once.
Turning to your flushed form. Your chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement, calming down from your touch. Kenshin retake his spot in the corner of the couch -relaxed, legs wide- facing you and his counterpart. Running his palms up and down your thighs Shingen gives you that cocky grin you love.
“Look at you getting yourself all worked up.” His tone teasing. Wrapping his fingers around your girth you breath in through your teeth from the sudden contact. “To think this night was supposed to be about you and I just left you to yourself.”
His hand pumping your length is making it hard to understand what he is saying. “How about we change that?” He asks, in response you let out a half choked ‘uh-huh’.
Closing your eyes trying to collect yourself you feel warmth envelope your member, letting out a moan you throw your head back. Bobbing his head up and down, Shingen begins to massage your balls in his palm.
Looking down you see those stormy eyes staring right at you. Not wanting to miss a moment of your pleasure Shingen keeps his gaze glued to you.
Looking over to Kenshin you see him stroking himself at the sight of you two. You admire how his fist makes work of his erection. The way he twists his wrist at the head every few strokes makes you lick your lips unconsciously.
Releasing you with a soft pop, continuing to jerk you off, Shingen grabs your attention. “Do you feel good baby boy?” He asks. Drawing a red hot line with his tongue up your shaft. Rubbing the head of your cock he takes your balls in his mouth. The feeling of his hand and tongue pulls more mewls from your throat. Not knowing if you can take much more, Shingen pulls you forward by your hips, pushing your knees towards your chest. Looking down at you as he runs his tongue over your entrance. The sensation makes you weaker than before. Still stroking you he licks you up and down. Reviling in your taste and how your fingers pull at his locks. The slight sting stoking the fire within him.
“Gotta make sure I get you nice and ready to take my cock. Would you like that baby?” He asks, you respond with a desperate “Yes.”
With that he stops stroking you, making you whine a bit but soon your whines are replaced with moans once he spits on your hole and inserts a spit covered finger. Slowly stretching you out, moving his digit in and out over and over till he adds another and all over again till he has three fingers driving into your ass. You’re practically begging him to fuck you at this point. Nothing but pleads and moans leave your lips. Bending to your wants and desires Shingen retracts his fingers and stands up to take off his pants. Stopping his hands you look up at him, “Let me make you feel good too.” You say breathlessly. Smiling Shingen caresses your cheek and trades you places.
Now between his legs, his member in hand, you swallow the spit in your mouth, readying yourself before you lick the head of his penis and take it in. The warmth of your mouth makes him say your name like a whispered prayer.
Caressing your face with his hands, admiring your movements. “Oh wow Y/n you're so talented with your mouth. Ah just like that.” Praises flow out of his mouth. Looking over to Kenshin he chuckles a bit. “You feel left out yet Ken?” He asks, Kenshin responds with a simple “No, I'm quite enjoying my view.” His hand, still stroking his length, as his other hand is occupied wandering over his chest, thighs and balls.
Continuing your efforts to please Shingen you slightly gag on his length when you try to take it all in.
Growing bored of the repetitiveness Kenshin takes one more sip of his drink as he gets up and walks over to you and brings you to your feet. Facing him he grabs your chin pulling you in for a kiss. Pulling away his eyes are fiendish, “I think this little bitch is ready to be fucked.” He says to the man sitting behind you, eyes still on you. His words make you gulp. “Would you like that?” He asks. You respond with a shy ‘uh-huh.’
“I thought so.” He says with a sadistic smile. Releasing your face from his grip he sits on the coffee table in front of you, reclined back on his hands, his manhood standing proudly with precum glistening on the tip. “Sit on his cock and ride.” he orders.
You nod your head, making Shingen smirk as he sits forward, reaching over to the side table where there is a small bottle of lube ready for use. Squirting a bit on the head of his member, jerking himself a few times to coat it. He then runs his hands up your sides then trails them down to rest on your hips, guiding you onto his lap. One hand on your waist and the other rubbing himself on your hole.
All the sensations and the position you’re in was enough to make you bust in that moment. But trying to hold yourself together you take a deep breath as you feel yourself slowly being stretched out by Shingen. He pulls you down till you’re fully planted on his lap. He waits for you to adjust to his size, “Oh baby boy, your little asshole feels so good around my cock.” he moans in your ear.
With your hands on your knees to support yourself, you begin to rock your hips slowly back and forth on his member. Breathy groans leave your lips. Looking up at Kenshin, hoping you’re pleasing him.
Shingen’s chin resting on your shoulder peering over to look at the other man. “We have such a good boy don’t we Ken?” He asks, running his hands up your chest. “So obedient and fun to play with.” He continues, as he lightly rolls your nipples in between his fingertips making you whimper in pained-pleasure.
“Yes he is.” Kenshin says. Leaning forward, nose to nose with you. He asks, “Since you’re such a good boy you’re gonna continue to do everything I say, right?” You nod your head yes, but that wasn’t good enough for Kenshin.
“I didn’t hear you.” He states. Your mind spins trying to form a single word. Shingen’s hands aiding you in your hips movements don’t help.
You feel so full and with little release. After a moment to think you’re finally able to mumble a shaky “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He pushes further. Clearly enjoying the frustration in your orbs. Seeing how you struggle to answer makes him want to laugh.
“Yes, Sir.” You say. Kenshin grins devilishly, patting your cheek with his hand. “That’s a good boy.”
Leaning back a bit, elbows resting on his thighs Keshin pulls your chin to direct your gaze back to him. “Don’t take your eyes off me.” He commands. Whimpering, you shake your head. Your senses are so full. With Shingen so deep, his cock stirring your insides and Kenshin’s control over you. Forcing you to focus through the fog in your mind. Unable to do anything but submit to them. Wanting nothing more than to obey their wishes and have them use your body for their pleasure. The ecstasy that comes from rocking your hips back and forth onto the man beneath you is making it increasingly harder to keep your eyes open. Your eyes squint in an attempt to keep them on Kenshin, your jaw is slack, nothing but incoherent gibberish comes spilling out of your mouth. Just when you thought you couldn’t get anymore stimulation, Shingen pumping into your needy hole then begins to stroke your manhood. The sensation was enough to make you through your head back and cry out in pleasure. “Fuck.” You cry. Your hand reaches behind you, pulling Shingen closer as you begin to unravel under his touch. Although that moment was short lived as Kenshin bends over and pulls your head towards him by your hair. The sting from his grasp makes you mewl. Your faces almost touching, your breath intermingling. His eyes, boring into your tear filled ones. “I told you to keep your eyes on me Y/n.” He says. His words coated in venom, sending a shiver down your spin. Standing up before you, your locks still in his hold, grasping his dick and putting it to your lips. “Be a good toy and suck me off.” He says. Opening your mouth he begins to fuck your throat. Staring up at his vicious gaze as he grits his teeth. “Fuck, you look so helpless.” He laughs. “The way you're riding Shingen like a bitch in heat while having my cock down your throat. But you like that don’t you. Having your body being defiled by two men.” His demeaning words tied with his erection invading your throat makes you release a muffled cry.
Tears seeping from your eyes from the pleasure and roughness. Your mind is spinning from being so full as both pump into your holes. Both men make it such an experience, you need both of them. With Shingen’s soft passionateness and Kenshin’s cruel dominance it's a perfect blend of pleasure and pain.
Watching you being face fucked, with his large hands still wondering your body. Playing and manipulating you how he pleases to pull more reactions from your excited body. “My lord you look perfect baby.” Shingen says. His face in your hair, you feel his lips against the crest of your ear as his deep voice rattles your body with praise. “The way you tighten around my cock as you choke on another man’s, is just divine.” He says. Driving you closer and closer to the edge, their words coaxing you to the end of your rope. Your body shaking, knowing you're about to cum Shingen begins to furiously pump your hardness, whispering in your ear. “Come on baby boy I know you’re at your limit. Cum for Daddy, I want you to cum on my cock and coat my hand in your semen. Can you do that for me?” He asks. Your body seizing unable to think or breath you shake your head as best you could.
Pulling himself out of your mouth, finally able to take a full breath of air but soon exhaling it with a guttural moan. Falling back against Shingen’s chest, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your orgasm begins to roll through your body. Currents of electricity shoot through your limbs, feeling everything and numb all at the same time. Spurts of white fluid covering Shingen’s hand that continues to jerk you off as you’re cumming, over stimulating you drawing out your voice. Turning your head he kisses you, groaning against your mouth as he feels the string in him about to snap. Pulling away, both gasping as he begins to pump his hot essence into yours used hole.
Grabbing your head and pulling you forward pumping his own member in front of you, Kenshin ejaculates onto your face. Opening your mouth you catch some of it on your tongue. His head rolled back in amusement and pleasure Kenshin chuckles once again. “Such a good little slut, clean my cock off with your tongue.” He says. Lidded eyes watching as you triedly lick the remaining drops of his cum on his penis and fingers.
Laying back against the larger man that's slumped to the back of the couch, and Kenshin plops onto the seat next to you both. All three of you sit there for a moment in silence, heaving. Relishing in the afterglow of your fiendish activities. Sitting up slowly Shingen pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss of fullness, adjusting to the emptiness as you rest in his arms. Curled up your arms wrapped around his neck, breathless and fatigued. His warm hands stroke up and down your back as he places a soft kiss on your head.
“You did so well my love, so amazing.” He praises. Rolling to his side Kenshin cups your cheek, your eye glossed over as you look at him. The white haired man leans over and kisses your cheek. “Are you okay?” He asks. Your throat sore, unable to really say anything you just smile and nod your head. “How about we run you a hot bath to relax and clean you up a bit?” Shingen asks. Holding him a bit tighter you nod your head once again. “Okay, I’ll carry you to the bath then.” He says with a soft chuckle slowly standing up, carrying you bridal style heading to the bathroom.
Sitting in a hot bubble bath your muscles relax, your eyes closed. Enjoying the soft music playing the background as Shingen gently wets your hair with a sponge, humming to the melody in the air. A while later Kenshin opens the door, “I cleaned up the living room and prepared your clean clothes in the bedroom once you’re ready. Take your time.” He says. His voice unlike before had a sweet softness to it. Walking over to you and your shared lover, kneeling at the end of the tub by your feet. “Do you need any more help cleaning up or are you okay?” He asks. His hand runs slowly up and down your calf in the water, as caring eyes await for your response. Shaking your head you give a tired half smile. “No I don’t think so, but I do think I’m ready to get dressed and eat some dinner now.” You say.
Shingen laughs a bit, “Not surprised after what you did, you must have worked up quite an appetite.” He says. Making you laugh a bit embarrassed. “I’ll go get dinner out of the oven.” Shingen says. Leaving the bathroom Kenshin pulls the drain of the tub and helps you out, wrapping you in a towel. Your legs still not used to walking Keshin grabs you as your knees slack a bit. “Hmm, let me help you.” He hums humored, picking you up to take you to the bedroom to help dress you.
Once you’re dressed you’re able to walk by yourself. Making your way to the living room, Shingen had already placed three plates of dinner on the table, each accompanied with a glass of sake.
For the rest of the night you three ate dinner, enjoyed the cookies you made as you cuddled on the large sofa, with you in the middle wrapped in a blanket sipping hot chocolate watching Christmas movies. A perfect way to end off the beginning of a great weekend.
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My Goodness I hope this was ok.
Feedback would be much appreciated since this is my first x male reader one shot. Altho I feel pretty happy with it I want to make sure that I did my male lovelies justice :3
💛 ~
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#kenshin uesugi#kenshin x male reader#shingen takeda#shingen x male reader#x male reader#*nsfw#kenshin x m! reader x shingen#poly relationship#Christmas prompts 2020#holidays 2020#naughty or nice list#naughty list#request
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