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blitzturtles · 2 years

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Title: Repercussions (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death / OFMD

Pairing(s): Steddyhands

Summary: For a prompt on the kink meme: Izzy is not okay following the loss of his toe. This can manifest in any number of ways: difficulty maintaining his balance, pain, phantom pain, maybe even an infection because the wound never healed correctly? Whether you want to go mild or more extreme, I'm not picky.

I just want Izzy hurting and a guilt-ridden Ed (+Stede) to take care of him, above Izzy's protests that caring for him like this is 'beneath him.

Notes: Set a bit into the future wherein Steddyhands is an established throuple. Prompt found here.

Thank you so much to my two betas Nordic_Witch_of_the_Books and tortellini!

Trigger/content warnings for mentions of drug use (for medical purposes), the toe thingTM, descriptions of injury, and home surgery.

Izzy’s pulled from a restless sleep by a searing, pulsing pain. Fire licks at the sole of his foot, spreading inward, deep into the flesh. His foot contracts in response, toes curling painfully. His back arches off of the bed, and his fingers grasp at the sheets beneath him so desperately that he thinks he might just tear right through them. It’s little consolation for the pain that blossoms from the mess of healing tissue that makes up the space where his little toe had once been.

Belatedly, he thinks of his leathers, of something he can bite into. It won’t detract from the pain, but it would keep him quiet, and that’s a precious ability that he’s lacking at the moment. No matter how hard he tries to swallow down the sounds that bubble up his throat, they still manage to escape, muffled yet undeniable.

His only relief is knowing that he is alone. There is no warmth to his left nor to his right, and the cabin is eerily silent, save for his own pained noises. If he were anything other than utterly alone right now, he would have already been made aware of it. Thank God for small favors.

With tremendous effort, he forces himself to sit up, hands grasping at his calf, as if he can massage away the worst of the pain. If he can at least stop the cramping, then maybe the rest will be more manageable.

Except it doesn’t help at all.

His foot seizes up again, forcing his toes to flex downward until it feels as though they couldn’t possibly be wrenched back into place. Even in its absence, the stub of flesh attempts to tighten, and it’s a burning, sucking, agonizing sensation that feels endless, ricocheting throughout his foot and up his leg. He feels it in his hips, for fuck’s sake, and it’s all he can do to bite into the meaty flesh between his thumb and forefinger and cry until his face is a mess of snot and tears. His cheeks are red, eyes puffy and bloodshot. He knows what he must look like, and, again, he finds solace in being left to his misery on his own. The thought of the Captain—or worse, Stede—seeing him like this makes his already nauseated stomach churn violently.

And, because he’s never really been a good man or a particularly godly one, at that, God forsakes him in that moment when the door to the cabin opens and a cheery voice starts in on him, grating his already frayed nerves in an impossible way.

“Good morn—oh, oh dear.”

“Out,” Izzy tries to say—or growl. He fails at both.

“No,” Stede answers, “No, I don’t think so.” He makes his way to the bed, only pausing long enough to deposit a tray he had been holding. Izzy takes note of the food piled on it, and the nausea somehow worsens, like his stomach is crawling up through his throat to try and deposit itself onto his lap before he can do anything about it.

“Your foot, I take it?” Stede asks as he gets close enough to see the bandages that are still wrapped around Izzy’s foot. Izzy isn’t holding it, hands still grasped firmly at his calf, but it’s an easy enough assumption to make. The damn thing won’t heal. Roach had to open it back up to cut infection out of it, and it’s been a nightmare ever since. Not that it had been going all that well before. An infection, particularly when it’s pressed up against exposed bone, is fucking excruciating. To the point that Izzy hadn’t been able to walk for a time.

“Brilliant fucking guess,” Izzy snarls. He doesn’t mean it, not really, but he hurts. He’s been shot, stabbed, damn near gutted, and somehow this is worse. An unending sort of misery that offers no reprieve. He could laugh, thinking back on it. He wonders if the Kraken had an inkling of an idea of what he truly inflicted upon his First Mate, and he can already see the way Ed would flinch away at such an accusation. It brings the bile back up his gullet.

Stede hums quietly, but otherwise doesn’t respond to the vitriol Izzy spits at him. He’s long since gotten used to the prickly parts of Izzy (which happen to be all of Izzy’s parts). “I can go get—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Izzy means it to come out more threatening than it does. As it stands, it sounds more like a plea spoken between inhaled gasps and choked off sobs. For a moment, he is nothing but pain, mind whited out with it, and it’s all he can think about until Stede speaks up again.

“He’s going to find out sooner rather than later,” Stede says, but he doesn’t push the issue. “May I?” He indicates to Izzy’s leg, and there’s a moment where Izzy considers telling him to fuck off. He doesn’t want to be seen right now, much less touched. There’s a chance that any movement might make his foot worse, and he’s terrified at the sheer prospect of that.

Instead of rejection, Izzy gives a helpless, half-shoulder shrug. Stede’s helped in the past. Always seems to know where to put his stupidly soft hands. There’s not much Izzy has to lose here. He’s in Hell already, and his dignity is casually floating to the bottom of the ocean with every tear that he sheds.

“Right then,” Stede moves to slide onto the edge of the bed, careful to not bounce the mattress. The last thing Izzy needs is for his leg to be jostled.

Carefully, Stede reaches out with his hands and places them just below Izzy’s. His thumbs press into either side of Izzy’s calf and work small circles. It’s not the root of the problem, his leg, but the whole thing is a tangle of triggers. The nerve pain comes from the missing toe. Both the stump of it and the non-existent hurt equally, and they cause the rest of his foot to tense horrifically. That same tension extends up his leg, though part of the pain he experiences in his leg is from improper care. Apparently there’s an actual science behind the length of a cane, and using the wrong height has caused a domino effect where his legs each tried to compensate for his injury in different, rather unhealthy ways. In short, it’s his own fucking fault he’s like this.

“None of that, now,” Stede whispers, fingers working bloody magic as they go. It’s enough to get the muscles to relax a touch.

“Wha—?” Izzy croaks, confusion evident on his face.

Stede pauses in his ministrations long enough to wipe at the tears tracking down Izzy’s cheeks. “You’re upsetting yourself with whatever nonsense is going on in here,” he taps Izzy on the brow, right between his eyes. It’s a distraction, and it works. For a moment, but then Izzy is jerking backwards, pulling his leg with him and trying to press it as close to his chest as he can. A litany of curses fall from his mouth.

“—Easy, Israel, breathe. Just like that, there’s a love,” Stede says in a quiet murmur. He’s somehow gotten behind Izzy, using himself to prop Izzy up with Izzy’s back against his chest. Izzy doesn’t remember moving or being moved, but the agony is only now beginning to subside, allowing him to think beyond the throb of his foot.

Instinct is what Izzy will blame later, should anyone ask about the way he curls into Stede, body turning just sideways enough to tuck his head into the other man’s neck. He smears tears and snot across Stede’s collar, but Stede doesn’t hesitate to bring a hand up to the back of Izzy’s head, cradling it gently in his grasp.

Stede’s still whispering gentle nothings. Quiet assurances and promises that he likely can’t keep. Izzy doesn’t call him on it, can’t be bothered to be argumentative in this state. It’s been months of this, and he’s just so goddamn tired. He’s too old for this, body unwilling to handle such a simple injury (he can hear Stede protesting to Izzy framing it that way. Any time an injury gets infected, it’s far from simple. It can be a death sentence in their world).

Stop crying. It’s just the pinky.

Izzy flinches at the memory. The manic glee of having Blackbeard back had only driven him so far, about as far as it took him to realize that he hadn’t gotten Blackbeard back at all. He’d unleashed something far worse, and it’s precisely why he refuses to share in this Hell with Ed.

But, then, life has never cooperated with him. He’s always had to wring everything out of it with his bare hands and the occasional teeth. It’s why Ed barges in, unannounced, and face only barely hiding the mild alarm he must be feeling at having Stede disappear for so long without warning.

Izzy doesn’t need to see to know the exact moment that Edward freezes. He comes to a stuttering stop, damn near tripping himself over his bad knee in the process, and Izzy can hear the way it grinds the same way he can hear Ed bite back a grunt.

“Iz?”

Izzy curses, hands immediately wiping at his face as quickly as he can. Fuck the pain. He’s not ruining Ed’s day over this shit. He can push past it, get himself up and moving and out on deck like usual. He doesn’t need Bonnet to baby him, and he doesn’t need to be blubbering like a child over an old wound, even if it does hurt worse now than it had at the time he’d gotten it.

“No, wait—Iz, Izzy,” Ed’s surprisingly fast, given his knee, already across the room in what seems like three steps at most. He’s pulling at Izzy’s wrists—gently, so as to not inflict anymore pain on him—and doing his best to put himself in Izzy’s line of vision. Whatever expression he’s going for, it fails to hide the horror in Ed’s eyes. The guilt. It’s so obvious that Izzy thinks anyone would see it. “Look at me, Iz. What can we do?” What can I do? How can I repent?

“I don’t know,” Izzy breathes, and he means it. He doesn’t know. Everything is fire, burning him from the inside out, and his leg is pulled too tight, drawing his foot along with it. He wants nothing more than for them to leave.

“Laudanum?”

“No,” Izzy answers immediately. The shit makes everything but the pain worse, and, while it takes that away, it’s not worth it. He can’t do it. He’ll be sick for days the moment he stops taking it, and that brings about its own sort of agony.

“Rum? We’ve got great shit from that last raid.” Izzy knows that already. He’s not entirely useless like this. He can still do inventory, and he knows damn well that that rum had been squirreled away by the two Captains for better times. For celebration and not for relief, yet Ed doesn’t even wait for an answer before he goes to pull it out of its hiding place.

Izzy’s trying his best to work up some sort of response, one that’s at least half-expletives, but Stede’s rubbing up and down his arm with one hand and gently scratching at his scalp with the nails of his other. It’s enough to get him to relax some, though he tenses only seconds later as another wave of pain passes through him.

Ed comes back with the bottle in hand, and he holds it to Izzy’s lips despite the already dying protests. Izzy never has been able to deny Ed for long.

“There you go, keep going, love,” Ed says, voice so quiet and sweet that it kills Izzy a little inside. He doesn’t know how to handle this, and it’s been months since the three of them became three and not two. The pet names are something else entirely; Izzy doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to those, but it does a good job of drawing him out of his own head for a moment.

Izzy’s vaguely aware of the fact that he hasn’t stopped crying. There are new tears replacing those that he attempted to wipe away. Neither Captain draws attention to it.

“Ed, darling, trade with me?” Stede asks from above Izzy. He presses his cheek against the top of Izzy’s head before pressing a gentle kiss over the same spot. He moves then, shifting so Ed can slide in right behind him and let Izzy rest against his chest. Stede returns to the foot of the bed to once more take Izzy’s leg between his hands.

Silence passes between them, with the only exception being the tiny, hiccupping breaths and the occasional gasp from Izzy. Stede redoubles his efforts from earlier, fingers working into the meat of Izzy’s calf. Ed’s fingers find their way into Izzy’s hair, working through the strands that have grown out over the last few months. Izzy’s grumbled about a haircut more than once, but Ed’s yet to help him with it.

“I’m sorry,” Ed breathes against the top of Izzy’s head. “I’m sorry. I—” He chokes up, unable to say much else, though Izzy can imagine it would be a repetitive, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, if Izzy were to allow it.

Izzy shakes his head, unable to vocalize a response. Ed doesn’t owe him anything. He shouldn’t be in here right now. The same could be said about Stede. Izzy doesn’t need this. He can handle himself.

“You think too much,” Ed says in a quiet little whisper. He almost sounds like he could laugh, if he weren’t on the verge of shedding tears of his own.

“Ah, I’m afraid I already told him as much. He didn’t quite listen to me, though, did he?” It might have been a complaint, if Stede’s tone weren’t sickeningly fond. Izzy can barely stand it, the two of them talking over him like this, each determined to distract him from the burning in his foot and leg.

“Don’t think he ever does, mate,” and this time Ed actually does laugh. It’s a quiet, short-lived thing, but Izzy finds himself pressing closer to Ed, trying to absorb the rumble of his chest into his own being.

“What a shame,” Stede answers dramatically, but he hasn’t stopped with Izzy’s leg. It’s actually beginning to relax more and more, causing the tendons in his foot to do the same.

Izzy takes another swig from the bottle and flips the both of them his middle finger. One to share between the two. He gets laughter out of both of them. It’s—nice. The whole thing. Once you get past the burning, nauseating pain. They rarely get moments like these. With the three of them together, wrapped around each other. Izzy hates the reason behind it, but he can't bring himself to really resent the time spent with his two Captains.

#steddyhands #blackhands #stizzy #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #steddy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #izzy hands #israel hands #blitzwrites #blitz

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opalsdarkreadings · 3 years

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✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙎/𝙊. 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙨: 𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣✰

Pairing: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, Sukuna x gender neutral reader

Warning: angst, depression themes, mentions of blood

Notes: I love the smell of saddens and crying in the morining, great starter of the days. lol I hope you all enjoy, there’ll be some grammical errors so please just ignore and I’ll try to fix them when I spot them. And I’m addicted to this series and characters so I’ll be releasing a bunch of others stuff regarding this show soon.

✵𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂✵

You were going to get up, you always did. The two inseparable prankster would be back at it agian like always. Like old times. You....you were fine

But the pit of his stomach twist and churn, his heart aching with a new found sense of despair. He knew, so why didn’t he just accepted it.

NO! You were going to get up, you just liked to joke around that’s all. So why did he feel a surge of rage so deep, so painful that ach his very core. Even destroying the special grade left nothing but dissatisfaction.

For the first time in his life he felt... hesitant.

Your body unmoving from the blow dealt by the curse demon. The curse being dealt with in seconds afterwards. The stillness felt eery, his heart pounding against his chest as he makes his way to you unmoving body

He crouch and pulled the slik blind off his face, beautiful bright blue eyes scanning over you body. Sadness being reflected in them but he kept that signiature smile of his

“S/o...can you still move?” He asked hoping, silently praying you could at least answer him.

...nothing.

“Cutie-chan~ quit playing around...get up so we can go home....” the weak laugh that left his lips felt more like whimper, as you continue to not answer him.

He doesn’t even know why he’s trying, he should be use to it. He’s lost thousands of friends in battle, time and time agian. One of his students wouldn’t come back, a coworker that didn’t make it, a close friends that died tragically. He’s heard it all.

So why did it hurt so much?...

Droplets fell over you color ridden cheek, you body being lifted into a broad chest. As Satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, that awful perfume he hate infiltrating his nose, a choked laught left him.

“God I hate that perfum..”

That smile of yours as bright as the evening star, flooded his mind, your words ringing out as he cradled your dead body.

“I know you do, but you still love me~.”

✵𝘆𝘂𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗶✵

That face, you always made that face whenever you did something stupid. Honestly, he couldn’t talk much, seeing on half the crap he’s done was on impulse, however...god you were an idiot.

You Could’ve lived, left him there on the cool slab of the concrete, the beast that was too far over their heads coming his way. He could’ve handled it, Sukuna was a stubborn bastard, but wouldn’t let him die.

You were and utter fool and he cursed about it to this day.

But it all felt like slow motion, the pounding of your footsteps hitting against the ground, his weak shouts trying to get you to go back. The drop in his stomach as that sickening crack echoed out the domain.

There was so much blood, the walls were splattered with it, the floor painted a sea of red, your body nothing more than crushed remembrance of what it used to be.

He’s never felt such a feeling of rage so strong before. All his actions a blur until late on. When he’s bound by a cursed rope and set aside near the school where the cursed demon was located.

A stretcher hauling, what’s once was your body. Your hand peeking out from under the blood covers. That’s all it took for him to lose it.

The rope keeping his struggling body from moving as he sobbed hysterically.

“S/O! S/O! Answer me please..please! Why would you do that?! You’re such an idiot damnit, don’t you dare leave me...you promised.” He fell over the harsh ground, tears cascading down from his cheek to the floor.

Fushiguro and Nobara gazes lowered to the ground. Effectively trying to hold back their friend as your body was carried off.

His sobs turning into quiet whimpers. It dawned on him, he’s was official alone now. You and his Grampa being taken from him unfairly. He had no one, you would never smiles at him agian

Slap his head whenever he got a little to handsy or tease Him relentless when he slipped up and blurtted out random things

Your sweet laugh would be distance memory of the past, something that made his heart squeeze with hurt.

“That’s no fair...it’s not fair.” He mumbles soflty to himself

Sukuna for once, was eerily silent.

✵𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝗠𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗶✵

He still couldn’t believe it. It all happened so quickly. One minute you two were sharing a passionate night, basking under the moonlight as you kiss and bodies dance together.

And the next, he’s cradling your bleeding body, words stuck in his throat and horror swirling on his eyes. Trembling hands trying to stop the blood from gushing out from your neck.

The bastard had got away but he could care less. “S-s/o..just...just stay awake for me okay...c-can you do that for me?” His words trembled off his lips, your eyes shifting over to his. The dullness setting in.

Weakly, your fingers brush over his cheek, his hands reaching up and taking hold of them as he kiss over the knuckle. “You’re....you’re gonna be okay! I promise the others are coming.” He hadn’t realized it but tears had already started falling from his eyes.

He was lying out his ass, the culprit behind this, another cursed user, has been terrorizing this part of town for months now. They weren’t letting him getaway, so you’re mostly his responsibility till the aftermath. He knew you didn’t have that long.

He went to move you but you grunt in pain, more blood pooling out from the wound. He cursed and held you on the bloodstained ground.

“I’m sorry...I-I’m so sorry..” he mumbles into your neck, uncaring if his face was stained with blood as his quiet sobs racked his body.

With as much strength you could muster, you raised your hand to be lazily placed over his head and stroked it over it like you always did.

“I...I l-love you..” you whispered to him, your body becoming slack and your hand falling to your side.

He didn’t need to check, he didn’t need to see whatever expression your face was making to know that you were gone. His grip over your lifeless body tightens, his cries reaching into screams.

This felt all too familiar to him.

He wanted to blame you for breaking his defense, to inching so close to his heart. For making him so happy and attached, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the moments that came with it.

The memories that’ll forever stay replaying like a broken record in his mind. This is why he didn’t try to make friends, he didn’t try to get close, he hated that he loved you so much.

✵𝗡𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝗞𝘂𝗴𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗶✵

Maybe she was too mean to you, not caring enough, She mishandled you to many times, to many fights and arguments over tedious things that should have been left as it was.

Was this her punishment? She allowed for such actions to boil and fester, and now what? A dumb argument over a stupid past that no longer connected to you and the exchange was your life.

Even though you said you sorry’s, I love you’s, there was still tension before you both part. Nobara saving to say all those mushy things she felt for when you were back in her arms

Oh, the deep regret she felt.

The way her teammates came back quieter than usual and more seemly more sluggish then earlier

“What are you idiots standing like that for, that cursed demon shake you that bad. Hmph, simple enough what would you guys be with me?” She teased her sly smile spreading over her lips before it falter

They didn’t even try to agrue much less protest, they just seem distraught, stunned even. Then I dawned on her, they were missing someone...they were missing you.

“Where’s...where’s s/o?” She asked them soflty. A look of guilt overcame Yuji's features as he fished for something out of his pocket.

Confusion ran across Nobara face before it morphed into horror. A single scrap of a school uniform being held out in his hand.

“We...we couldn’t get their body..” Megumi finished his gaze meeting her’s before falling back to his feet. Fist clenched tightly to his side.

She barely heard anything after that, her eyes fixated on the single scrap of clothing. She inched to Yuji taking it and stroking her thumb over the material.

She bites her bottom lip, this was fates cruels joke. She didn’t deserve you from the beginning, it seems like everywhere she went someone had to leave her.

But why did it have to be violent? Why you out of all people. Maybe she should have told her how much you meant to her.

How much of a rock and pillars you were in this crazy life of hers. A beam of reassurance and love that she could always depend on whenever she needed you.

How does she continue now, that beams were gone, taken from her so harshly. The only things she could cling so desperately to have been the last thing she saw you in.

What a cruel world she lived in.

✵𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚✵

There was always some form of a catch when it came to huamsn. No relationship or friendship was formed without a common goal or another interest being taken into play.

The sweet smiles, honey-coated words, and gentle touches were always a facade...wasn’t it?

He could care less about what happened to you, what became of you. After all humans are dirty devilish creatures so even more so then cursed beast.

But he didn’t understand... he didn’t understand why he felt such strong stings of anger, sadness, and a bit of shock bubble in him as you push him out the way.

Did you place some sort of technique over him, that made the king of curses catch such disease as emotions? Laced your words and touches with magic that only you could see and undo....no that’s not it.

Possible it was this damn vessel's fault. Always hanging off your words and embraces like a lovesick fool. Opting to distract himself with your praise and love then rather focus on what’s important at hand.

though denying that he didn't enjoy your persevere, from time to time would make the ping of guilt worsen.

Your body hit the floor with a loud thud, the gaping hole through your chest made the anger and feelings of anguish flow in him.

He didn’t even notice when he had taken over Yuji's body, destroying the very thing that took you away from him. The slaughter more animalistic and erratic as his state of sanity seems to be blown out the window.

He cares not for the look of horror and fear that clouded Yuji's teammate's face. Not concerning much of his attention to them, he came over, plucked your dead body from the ground, and disappear.

Appearing back to that place you talked with Yuji so dearly about..what was it again. He couldn’t recall the name, only knowing about the large wisteria trees that guard the scenery.

“Dumb human...surely foolish beings you are.” He mumbles you head was press into his chest as he looked out from the Cliffs view.

“Look what you have done, making me feeling things for you..” his voice soft as he pushed back small strands from your face. Yuji memories of this morning playing back

“You two better make it out of here alive or I’m kicking both of your butts.” You proclaimed earning a whine from Yuji and scoff from Sukuna as he appeared on the other’s cheek. “Dare I ask how you’ll be able to deafest me, don’t bite more than what you can chew.” He threatens but only succeeded in making you laugh, “Mhm..yeah you’re right I’m just worried about my two favorite boys.” You had told them, leaning in and kissing a flustered Yuji, “I love you both so be safe.” Okay and no stupid actions.” You scolded Yuji plucking the boy's head.

A weak laugh fell off from his lips, “Looks who’s talking, you’re the one that’s gone and died on us..” he spoke aloud. Moving to crouch by the tree and sit your body against the bark.

He let one finger trail over your lips and down your features letting them be engraved in his memory as he gazes down at you.

That disease having still affecting him, even as you lay dead in front of him. These feeling of sadness and heart ach and most of all loneliness suffocating and clawing at his throat

He dare not shed a tear, Yuji would do enough of that for the both of them. Instead, he let his hand gently cup over your cold and colorless cheek. The warmth he remembers oh so clearly, know felt like something that occurs ages ago.

He leans his forehead against yours and shutting his eyes, and allowing Yuji to take control.

You’d never heard him say, though he wished you are hear so he could that dazzling smile as he did

“I love you... S/o.”

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo x reader #jjk fushiguro #jjk yuji #jjk nobara #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #yuji itadori x reader #fushiguro x reader #nobara x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk angst #sukuna x reader

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justauthoring · 3 years

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Amongst Them All, I See You

Prompt: Hey! I saw that you’re taking requests, and wanted to toss one out there for you. Hope you don’t mind. by the way, i absolutely LOVE your writing!! it’s always so heartwarming and nicely worded. Anyways, I had this idea for a Tsukishima Kei x reader where maybe basically Him and the reader have a enemies-to-lovers relationship. and maybe it has something to do with yamaguchi? i was thinking it could be some kind of angst 👉👈 but if you don’t write angst that’s perfectly fine!! it doesnt have to be. feel free to twist this any way you want :) Requested by: anonymous (thank you darling!).

A/N: salty beanpole has finally made his arrival ;) Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x F!Reader

From the moment he met you, Tsukishima didn’t like you.

Now, he couldn’t exactly explain why. There wasn’t necessarily a real reason for it, just a feeling, an instinct if you will, and Tsukishima felt it best to listen to his gut. It’d never failed him before.

“Tsukki! I brought Y/N!”

By now, this is a common occurrence. Yamaguchi was all but determined to make the two of you friends, though Tsukishima couldn’t even begin to understand why, and it didn’t matter who ended up getting dragged along, the two of you found yourself constantly forced to spend time together.

Today, apparently, is no different. And the apprehensive, hesitant expression on your face is the same as always as Yamaguchi holds tightly to your wrist, you two steps behind him as you’ve probably spent the last few minutes trying to desperately convince your friend that it was alright, you didn’t mind eating lunch alone, you didn’t need company, etc. that Yamaguchi basically never listens to.

After all, you are a lot easier to convince then Tsukishima is.

You can never really say no to Yamaguchi’s soft eyes and hopeful smile, it seems.

Yamaguchi forces you to sit, before taking the spot next to you with a pleasant smile, reaching into his bag as if he hadn’t all but forced you against your will there.

And Tsukishima stares for a moment, one, two, before placing the lid back on his bento box. “I’ll be taking my leave then,” he says simply, voice dull, face blank as he moves to stand.

As Yamaguchi rushes to stop him, a hand over his own, practically pleading and spouting something like we’ve never not eaten lunch together -- something Tsukishima could really care less about, he misses the second of hurt that flashes in your eyes. It’s brief, passing with a blink, and then your face is settling into a scowl, cutting Yamaguchi’s begging off;

“Am I really all that awful to be with?”

“No--”

“Yes--”

Yamaguchi glares at him, to which Tsukishima rolls his eyes, finally sitting back down in his seat with a sigh.

And so, lunch continues on as it usually does. Tsukishima sits there silently, maybe putting a word in or two if Yamaguchi looks at him expectantly, while the two of you talk adamantly amongst one another. You’re loud, painfully so, like you always are, and Tsukishima is all but torturously reminded of Hinata, and he can already feel a headache coming.

He doesn’t listen to the conversation, not really at least. He does take note, mainly because he can’t help to, like he always does, that while you always seem to be loud at lunch, or after practice, it’s only ever when you’re with Yamaguchi. In class, you’re quiet. Almost eerily so. And you’re usually alone.

Scratch that, before Yamaguchi and him, you were always alone.

Tsukishima pretends like he hadn’t noticed, like when Yamaguchi comes bounding up to him one day, excited to introduce you, he didn’t already know who you were. Because, it seemed like lots didn’t. Your presence is often lost amongst the crowd, and for the longest time, Tsukishima felt like he was the only one who did see you.

Head turned down, arms wrapped around yourself, you so purposely tried to avoid attention but Tsukishima always noticed you.

He doesn’t tell people things very often, and even Yamaguchi doesn’t know the things he swears he’ll never tell anyone. So, for the longest time, you’re like this secret he keeps. He notices you, you don’t notice him, and he sees things that no one else does.

He sees the frustration on your face when you open your locker only to find that your books and homework have been ripped. He sees the way you rush from class to class, desperate to be in the halls for as little time as possible. He sees the way that one girl from class, Tsukishima doesn’t care to learn her name, slams you up against your locker one day after school, and hears the low threats thrown your way, ones he can’t make sense of.

And he sees the way you always wear your blazer, even when it’s blazing hot outside. You choose the longer skirt option, and are always wearing knee high socks. Your skin is constantly covered, hiding something.

But then Yamaguchi introduces you to him one day, like he didn’t already know who are you, and you’re all shy smiles and quiet whispers to him but you’re bright eyed and giggly when you turn to Yamaguchi. You speak to him like he’s a friend you’ve had for years, rather then a few weeks, and Tsukishima jealousy bubbles up to hate towards you for some sick, twisted reason he can’t properly explain.

And it’s just been like that for the past two months.

“We don’t have practice after school,” Yamaguchi offers, eyeing Tsukishima before turning to you. “Would you like to hang after school?”

Tsukishima notices, out of the corner of his eye, the way your body straightens at his words, eyes widening slightly in panic. Panic that’s only there for a moment, something that Yamaguchi completely misses.

“Uh, sure. I just have to, um, uh, drop something off quickly after class. I can meet you outside, by the gym?”

Yamaguchi shrugs, “sure.”

And Tsukishima wonders how Yamaguchi didn’t notice how plainly obvious a lie that was.

“Anyways, um,” you move to gather your stuff, quickly, movements stiff. “I have to talk to the teacher before class, so I’ll just meet you guys there, okay?” And you’re standing before Yamaguchi can really say otherwise, waving at him, before your eyes fall on his, as if debating, before turning, rushing off.

Yamaguchi turns back to his food, completely obvious.

“I’ll be late after school too.”

“Oh?” Yamaguchi mumbles, obviously confused. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Tsukishima nods, “just got to grab something.”

“Ah, here you go, Y/N-chan! I’ll need them done by tomorrow!”

Your jaw all but falls to the floor.

“T-Tomorrow?” You whisper, hesitant, voice shaky. “But... this is like three days worth of homework, Suzuki-san, I couldn’t possibly--”

“But you will,” she cuts in sharply, your own eyes falling on her with a blink of surprise, wincing slightly at the deep frown on her lips. “Because you know what will happen if you don’t.”

Fingers tightening around the stack of papers, you sigh, trying to stop the shaking of your limbs as you numbly nod. “Of course, Suzuki-san,” you whisper, “I’ll have them done by tomorrow morning.”

Her hand raises in your peripheral and you flinch, expecting the worst, lips parting to apologize for whatever you did wrong -- but her hand simply falls on top of your head in a mock pat. “Perfect.” And then she’s turning without another word, not even a thanks, and as you watch her walk off, you feel your vision blur.

Your grip on the paper tightens, turning painful as you curse softly to yourself, turning around so your backs against the hall and you hastily rip open your locker to hide yourself the best you can. Luckily, everyone’s most gone off now, so there’s no prying eyes watching you cry to yourself.

Not like anyone ever notices anyway...

“You shouldn’t let her talk to you like that.”

Jumping at the voice, the eerily familiar one, you spin, wiping at your eyes desperately as you peer up at Tsukishima, shocked. “Tsukishima!” You gasp, shaking your head. “You scared me,” you try to laugh off, pressing a hand against your chest and pretend like you hadn’t just been sobbing to yourself seconds prior. “Did Yamaguchi send you to find me? I’m surprised you agreed, but i’m almost--!”

His hand slams against the locker next to yours, causing you to jump once more, blinking up at him as he glares down at you.

“Cut the bullshit.”

Laughing nervously, you shake your head; “I-I don’t know--”

“I saw everything Y/N,” he cuts in, “don’t lie to me.”

And sudden anger flares in you, frustration from before, and frustrated at him, at people constantly interrupting you, walking all over you like you were nothing but dirt. “What do you care,” you hiss, voice low as you turn, ignoring him as you grab the paper, slamming your locker shut. “You hate me.”

And there’s a pause, Tsukishima blinking in surprise that you don’t notice, before the papers ripped from your hands. You spin back around, ready to yell at him, before you notice him moving towards the trash and all but dumping the pile in.

“W-Wait!”

You try to stop him, to no avail, and your eyes widen as you lean over the rim of the garbage can, eyeing the papers that have spread amongst the trash, rotted food and spilled drinks, soiling the paper.

Eyes wide, disbelief flooding your entire system, you turn to Tsukishima. “Why would you do that?” You whisper, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, she’ll--!”

“She’ll what?” He asks bluntly, gaze never wavering.

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head; “it doesn’t matter. Just-Just help me get the paper, most of it might still be okay--”

Tsukishima grabs you by the wrist, halting you from grabbing the papers.

You spin, blinded by your anger, and shove at him in the chest. But Tsukishima barely budges, just staring down at you as you glare at him, the tears now falling once more as you feel your emotions that you’ve been hiding and building up inside of you, finally come pouring out.

“What do you even know!” You yell, voice booming. “Why do you even care? Don’t you hate me? You only tell me how annoying I am every day, constantly, and now she’ll... Suzuki-san...--”

“Y/N,” grabbing both your wrists, Tsukishima pulls gently, pulling your eyes on him. You find yourself surprised at what you see when you meet his gaze, baffled by the softened look in his gaze -- and... is that? Guilt? “Just look at me.”

You fall silent, puzzled.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he says simply, “she won’t hurt you anymore.”

Anymore?

How does he...?

Lips parting, you try to find the words, bewildered, at a loss of words.

“Y/N--”

Pushing at his chest, you stumble away from him, shaking your head. Eyes blurred, watering, you glare up at him, while he simply stares back down at you, that same stupid guilty look on his face.

“Tsukki? Y/N...?”

Blinking, you both glance back, Yamaguchi having come to a stop before the two of you, clearly confused.

That seems to snap you out of your stupor. Wiping at your eyes, you turn, “I have to go home,” you whisper, voice quiet. “Sorry Tadashi, but I won’t be able to hang tonight.”

And then you’re taking off into a sprint, desperate to get as far away as possible.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi whispers after a moment, turning to look at his friend imploringly. “What happened--?”

Scoffing, Tsukishima just shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Take your hands off of her.”

Blinking, you shift, enough to glance at the shadow that has fallen over both you and Suzuki, bewildered at the sight of Tsukishima.

But he simply ignores you, keeping his gaze trained on Suzuki who seems just as confused as you, though more angry. It doesn’t phase him however, and he simply stands there, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his school bag tightly, as the glare on his glasses stares her down.

“Now.”

Suzuki lets go of you, and you crumble to the ground in a heap, turning to Tsukishima with a scoff. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” She laughs, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, this is the girls washroom, you’re not--”

He catches the hand that she waves lazily at him, and it doesn’t take a genius to know his grip is tight. She gasps in response, her face falling in pain as he glowers down at her. “I’d say bullying is worse,” he mumbles, and somehow the drawl, the uninterest in his tone of voice is even more terrifying then him being actually angry. “And I’d wonder how your teacher would feel if she knew all your perfect grades were because of Y/N?”

Suzuki’s eyes widen, clearly scared, before scoffing. “And what proof do you--”

“It’s mine and Y/N’s word against your own, Suzuki.”

She turns to you then, and so does Tsukishima, and your lips part, unsure.

“Like Y/N will say--”

“I’m done with warning you,” she whimpers slightly, and your eyes fall to the grip he stills hold of her, a hand going to your lips. “Either leave and never bother Y/N again, or you will regret it.”

He lets go of her, and there’s a pause in which Suzuki sends one last look at you, before rushing out of the bathroom without another word.

“Here.” Tsukishima’s grabbing ahold of you before you even notice, gently pulling you to your feet, and helping set you against one of the sinks before he turns, locking the bathroom door.

“Thank you,” you whisper when he turns back to you, hugging yourself.

“I told you,” he shrugs, “she won’t hurt you anymore.”

Looking down at your feet, you bite your lip. “How’d you know?”

He blinks, turning to you; “yesterday--”

“No,” you shake your head, turning to him sharply, “before that. How’d you know? No... No one ever notices. No one ever sees. Not even Tadashi.”

And Tsukishima tenses at the mention of him, the way you regard him on a first name basis when you said it right there and then -- he’d never noticed. No one did. But him.

“I noticed,” he whispers, “and I should’ve done something about it earlier.”

“It wasn’t your problem,” you shrug, before letting out a short laugh, “besides, you hate me, right? So it makes sense--”

He’s before you in seconds, shocking you to silence as he stands close, desperately close, but avoids your gaze, head tucked in, shaking his head. “I don’t...” And the words seem hard, forcing them forward, and Tsukishima suddenly seems less scary then and just... awkward.

Like he doesn’t know how to express what he’s feeling.

“I don’t... hate you.”

And you pause, letting the word sink in, before letting out a giggle, one that has Tsukishima glancing up at you in bafflement.

“Well, I’m glad,” you smile at him, the first time you’ve ever smile at him so... genuinely. “Because I don’t hate you either.”

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

if you write for maki can you do smut prompts 8,11,13? and oh my god CONGRATS ON THE 2K YAYYAY I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK YOU DESERVE IT ALL ❤️❤️

“Be a good girl/boy for mommy/daddy.” “You can take it, you’ve done it before.” “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby”

Maki Zen’in x Reader

genre: smut

words: 1.3k

Cw: fem! Anatomy (gn! Pronouns of course!), Mommy- kink, Strap-on’s, technical girl on girl (you both have vagina’s), degrading because that’s how that works, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, tongue fucking, and squirting

Fem Dom Maki? Yes. Dom! Maki fucking reader with a strap-on becuase we’re all her good little whores. Yes. (I'm sorry if this isn't what you want but this is what I got)

a/n: for the first prompt I'm not going to put girl/boy because I’m not sure which one you want, and I’d rather try to keep this gender-neutral. This is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, and now my place in hell is official.

You knew better than to test Maki when she’s in a mood.

Maybe if you’d just listen to your own advice for once you wouldn’t be tied up to your bedpost while Maki ignores all of your inquiries. You could guess that she’d left you there for thirty minutes at this point and she’d been going through draws leaving the room for minutes at a time.

“Was flirting with Mai all that worth it?” her eerily calm voice rang through the silence, reminding you of what you had done to land yourself here in the first place.

It was a small lapse of judgment, something you told yourself you’d never do. But Maki had a streak of making you want to do anything but what she tells you. So when she told you not to go anywhere near her sister after treating you like a kid for five minutes, the second she left you alone Mai was yours.

If you could imagine, Maki was livid when she returned to you fawning over Mai and her ‘cute’ haircut, Maki wanted to gag. She knew you just wanted to be a brat, so she let you for an entire hour before she’d finally had enough.

And now, she was standing about your confined body. Slim fingers run along the back of your thigh ending at the back of your knee. In one quick move your legs were spread, pussy open to her critical gaze.

“Wet already? Be good for mommy, it's the least you could do.” her apathetic voice rang past your whimpers. She sat along the edge of the bed, gaze never wavering from the wet spot growing on your panties.

“You know exactly what happens to ungrateful sluts, so why in your right mind would you directly contradict what I told you, I will never know. Whores get punished for this kind of behavior, though I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She knew exactly what to say to make you putty in her hands.

Locking her fingers on the underside of your panties she slid them down the length of your legs at a maddening pace. She was purposely making you restless, you hated when she did this, she always took her pettiness seriously.

Before you knew it, a finger was circling your clit and a persistent buzzing filled the room. You realized what was happening when her wand met with your dripping folds, her snarl, growing wider.

“Mai can’t do this for you, only I can,” she growled, rearranging herself to kneel before you, reaching one hand to undo her lace bra, “I’m the only one who can satisfy this cunt, I’ve ruined you for anyone else, haven't I?”

Lolling your head back at her words, immediately regretting it as she rips it all away from you, reaching to grab your jaw forcing your focus back onto her, “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby”

Eagerly nodding, a small beg for her to continue leaves your lips, instead she sits back on her heels admiring how sloppy your cunt had become from her previous assault.

“W-wait, Ma-” you stuttered out watching as she rose a hand to her uncovered breasts rolling a nipple to your dripping pussy. Embarrassed by her mocking moans, mimicking your earlier begs for her hands.

“Stop being so desperate, if you want to cum you can do it yourself, Doll.” You can’t, your hands are tied and the only thing you could do was try and rub your hips into the sheets. Somehow you were able to make contact while Maki mocked you attempting to make yourself cum.

“You want help? Does my desperate little whore need their Mommy to help them? I think they do, their poor little clit is throbbing! Makes me want to suck it like a lollipop!” God, you hoped she would, and it seems correct as she leaned over nuzzling her nose into your slick folds.

Finally making due on her words she wraps her lips around your engorged clit giving it a long suck before letting go with a loud ‘pop’. Then running her tongue, collecting all the slick that collected beneath your lips. Obnoxiously slurping your essence, reattaching her lips to your clit, a hand pressing your hips to the sheets.

After pulling away for a breath, she dove back in shoving her tongue into your quivering hole, effectively fucking you on her tongue. Attempting to tug out of your restraints, you see stars letting your orgasm overcome you.

Letting you ride out your high, Maki pulls away, lips covered in wetness, smirking as she admires her work. Eyes tilting up when she sees the tears running along your cheek, and the drool covering your chin.

Letting you sit in your post-orgasmic glaze for a bit longer, she rises from her position, grabbing a large black bag from the bottom of your joined closet. Coming back to your senses you see the black straps she ties snuggly against her hips.

Ties that connect to the white 8-inch dragon dildo she bought for occasions specifically like this. Seeing it reminds you of all the times you’d fallen apart around the plastic. Assuming her previous position between your legs, she runs the tip along your slick folds.

On the third she pushed the tip into your stretched hole, the feeling was painful as it was over 3 inches in girth. You were overly sensitive from your previous orgasm making the lardy painful experience multiply tenfold.

“Wait! Stop it! It-it hurts!” you writhe, trying to escape from the monster attempting to enter your cavern. She doesn't even entertain your bagging, instead, taking your hips forcing you further onto her strap.

“You can take it, you’ve done it before,” she commands as another inch stretches your pulsing walls. She stops finally when she’s stopped by your cervix, pushing your legs to press against your chest forcing you into the mating press.

Maki leans towards you, face looming over yours, pressing her chest to yours, pulling out to the tip before pulling your hips fully into hers. Settling into a steady pace, silently listening to your sloppy pussy suck in her dildo and your whoreish moans-- a far cry from your pleas to stop.

“Listen,” she commands, staying silent for half a second, “that's Mommy's pussy crying for her dildo. Listen to yourself, only I can fuck you dumb. Your dripping cunt is mine!” every word accompanied by an even harsher thrust, slamming into your depths.

Leaning back she placed your legs over her shoulders and hand reaching for your clit, eyes trained on your bouncing breasts. Letting your orgasm build into something far bigger than the previous.

“Cum for me, whore.” with her command you flutter around her strap, spraying cum all over your lower bodies and soaking the sheets under where you lay.

Plopping onto your heaving chest, she kisses a hickey into the valley between your breasts before coming up, “Only Mommy can make you squirt, remember that.”

#maki zenin #maki x reader #maki smut #maki x reader smut #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin x reader smut #maki zenin smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #i’m going to hell #my oh my #oh dear i’ve done it this time

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mystic-shadows42 · 3 years

Text

Uhtred Imagine: Love & Treason

“How’s the dress look?”

“Exquisite, my lady,” was your response. There was never a day that Æthelflæd ceased to be graceful. She was everything one can imagine of a princess. She was born privileged and never had to see what laid just outside these walls, not as you have.

“I’ll be needing extra sheets for the bedding.” Æthelflæd was distracted by looking over her new dress in the mirror.

“In regards to what, my lady?”

“I’ll be requesting Uhtred’s presence. We are in need of discussing what this marriage will entail.”

Your heart raced at the mention of Uhtred’s name but even more so at the notion of Æthelflæd’s request.

“My lady, forgive me but it will be seem improper at least not until you two are officially married.”

She turned her head towards you. There was usually no question of her actions on your part but with your love’s name leaving her lips didn’t sit well. None of it did.

Whenever you and Uhtred would meet up he’d just tell you not to think about it and continue on to kiss you and caress your soft skin until you both would have to depart.

There was always the lingering thought that Æthelflæd will be his wife one day. You would have to watch them dote on each other whether for appearances or not. He could fall in love with her in time.

Then one day you’d have to care for their children. You’d be made to sit silently watching their lives unfold. If fate were kind, they’d allow you to leave and perhaps find love again.

“I trust you to sneak him in here and be discreet no doubt,” Æthelflæd spoke, breaking your leering thoughts.

“Of course. I’ll fetch the sheets immediately after my duties are fulfilled.”

Endless scenarios lingered on your mind long after your duties were over and you held the sheets in your hand. Silent tears cascaded down your cheeks like an ever-growing river trying to break free from the dam that held them in.

Your breath hitched when firm hands held your waist.

“It’s just me,” Uhtred chuckled. He nuzzled his face by your neck. No matter what you felt on the matter, his presence was always a calming one to your racing heart.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and inhaled your scent. “I’ve missed you. When I didn’t see you by Æthelflæd‘s side I didn’t know what to do with myself. She noticed I was distant.”

“Uhtred.”

His body stiffened when he heard your solemn voice. He backed away and turned you to face him. When he saw your face cascaded down he lifted your head and drew near when he saw your tears.

He cupped your face with his hands and you placed yours over his forearms.

“No, don’t cry.” He wiped your tears with his thumbs. He had a smile on his face as he slowed his movements. “You are beautiful, even when you cry.”

You sniffled a low chuckle. “Beautiful? I am wearing a worn ragged dress and crying. I am anything but beautiful.”

His eyes became stern. “You are beautiful. Now say it.”

“Uhtred-”

“Say it or we’ll stay in here all day.”

You looked in his eyes watching how his were looking at yours intently. He always had a way of breaking you out of your own mind.

“I am beautiful.” You said each word slowly and carefully as to fully satisfy Uhtred’s wish.

Once you said it, Uhtred then kissed your lips slowly while keeping his eyes closed. He withdrew from you slowly with his eyes still closed, relishing the moment. There was hardly any time for the both of you with the wedding drawing near.

He opened his eyes and licked his lips. “How is it that you do not know your worth?”

You grew confused at his words. “What do you mean?”

Uhtred took a strand of your hair and played with it in between his fingers. You smiled at his action and did the same to his hair. Before him, you had never seen a man with hair as long as his.

“I would give my life for you.”

You stopped your movements and dropped your hands from him. Uhtred knew what you were thinking and pulled your body impossibly close to his so you were against each other.

“I do not like when you speak like that. Your life is not worth mine nor will I ever want you to give it, whether spoken or not. You are too important to me.”

You were always brought up to believe that one should never speak of their life lightly. You loved Uhtred with all your heart. It pained you to be deprived of him.

“My love for you is far greater than anything else. You were an unexpected surprise when I came here. I cannot imagine living without you by my side.”

He smiled at you and it lightened your heart to see it was only directed at you. There had been countless of those similar smiles that he shared with Æthelflæd when he courted her through the gardens. Ones that made you doubt his love for you, but at the end of the day, he always came back to you.

You shared your bodies with each other and while you both laid in bed you’d share stories with one another. Though the next day, it’d repeat like any other.

You’d wait all day just to see him but he’d have to remain focused on Æthelflæd rather than you in public. Uhtred would sometimes brush your hand against his or catch you whenever you became clumsy.

It was all very subtle to everyone else but to you and Uhtred it was a small victory to at least touch one another on the days that kept you apart.

Uhtred touched the soft silk sheets that remained by you on the shelf. Before he had came into the small closet, you had been fiddling with the expensive fabric wondering if Uhtred would be laying in them with Æthelflæd. You had let out a humorless chuckle while his attention was on them not knowing what they’d entail later.

“My lady Æthelflæd wants me to sneak you in her chambers tonight.” Uhtred stopped touching the fabric knowing what they’d be used for. He sighed and placed your heads together.

You closed your eyes relishing being in his presence.

“Fate has not been too kind to us Uhtred. No matter how many times we are together,” you shrugged, “we cannot be together. You are not mine nor will you ever be. We are torn between two feelings. Love and Loyalty. I am betraying the lady Æthelflæd and the people of Wessex.” You pulled away to now look into his eyes. “Then there’s you. My one true love.” You took a shaky breath making your eyes start to tear up. “Understand that if we keep doing this, your life and your men’s lives will always be at stake. Your homeland will never be recovered and you will die a slow torturous death because of me. I can’t have that.”

Even as you spoke Uhtred didn’t seem as worried or afraid as you. He was eerily calm as he listened to every word.

He moved his shirt so his chest was exposed and placed your hand over his chest where his heart laid. The rhythm of his heart was soothing.

“I am alive because of you. My heart beats for no one else. I never want you to doubt us. This isn’t it for us. I will not let that be our fate when our destiny has yet to be told.” He brushed your hair back and kissed your neck. “They’ll sing songs about our love story one day.” He brought his hand up to your neck as he kissed your soft spot. You turned your head so he could have better access. “I have an idea that’ll solve all of this.”

“No, Uhtred. It can’t be anything that’ll jeopardize you. Promise me,” you spoke sternly. Uhtred was ambitious and you knew just how stubborn he can be when he has his mind set up but he was always true to his word with you. He nipped at your neck but you placed your hand on his exposed chest. “Quit trying to distract me.”

He brought your hand up to his lips as he kissed it. His eyes gleamed with mischief. “I promise that everything will work out.”

You placed your hand on his face and smiled at him. It made you happy to know that he was here and safe.

“I must be getting back. I’ve been gone for too long.”

He leaned down while you reached up to kiss him. He had his arms wrapped around you possessively as if he didn’t want to let you go. He dragged his hands down your sides and onto your hips then reluctantly let you go.

“Don’t forget to meet up at our spot tonight.”

You nodded. You wouldn’t miss your little late-night meet-ups for the world. As you headed towards the door you could feel that he still held onto the fabric of your worn-out dress.

You looked over your shoulder seeing him making a frowning face at your departure. It made you chuckle seeing the fierce warrior act like a child.

“Don’t be getting into any trouble now.”

He smirked at your response, but little did you know Uhtred already had a plan. It was a dangerous one but if all worked out then you two would be together.

After all, love conquers all.

#Uhtred Ragnarsson #Uhtred of Bebbanburg #Uhtred #Uhtred x reader #Uhtred imagine #Uhtred The Last Kingdom #Uhtred fanfiction #tlk #The Last Kingdom

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cursedwriter · 3 years

Text

Dancing with your Ghost - Fushiguro Megumi

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Warnings: Deals with death, Megumi has various breakdowns, it’s just really sad over all... sorry for making you cry in advance!

Words: 4.9k

Author’s Note: Kind of inspired by this song: Dancing with your Ghost - Sasha Sloan // Also, when they dance, I kinda imagined them to dance to this: Technicolour Beat - Oh Wonder

“Is he still in there?” Yuji pointed at the door by the end of the hallway. Gojo was walking in his direction, his expression unreadable.

“No matter what I tell him, he won’t come out.” His voice sounded tired, almost worn out. The sight must’ve been hard for him to bear. Itadori gulped. He wasn’t sure if he could take it. “You should try talking to him. Maybe he will listen to you. We both know he would regret it if he missed the ceremony.” Gojo patted Yuji on the shoulder, hand lingering for a few additional seconds in silent comfort.

“I’ll try my best,” Itadori nodded, though, he sounded more hopeful than he was. This was going to be rough.

Soon after, Gojo disappeared behind the corner and out of sight. His shoulders were slouching and his head was hanging low as if he couldn’t walk upright. This was hard on everyone. But the person who had it the worst of all was…

“Fushiguro, can I come in?” Yuji knocked on the door three times. No answer. He tried again. This time more forceful. “Hey, Megumi! It’s me, Yuji! Do you mind if I come in?” Still no answer. Itadori sighed, but he pushed the door open anyways, peering into the dimly lit library of the Jujutsu Tech High school. Admittedly, he’s never been in here before. Yuji wasn’t really the non-fiction reader… or anything that wasn’t manga, really. But upon entering the room, he couldn’t help but gawk. The shelves were stacked to the max, piling up above his head in a seemingly endless supply of books. There were books everywhere. The amount of knowledge that was stored in here was immense. And all about curses and jujutsu? Incredible! Maybe he should’ve come here sooner. He bet that there had to be at least a dozen books about Sukuna here somewhere.

“It doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense.” Itadori was pulled out of his thoughts by the repetitive mantra that was coming from somewhere behind a shelf. He followed the sound that was mingled with quiet sobs and he had to force himself to keep walking. This was more terrifying than facing all the curses of this world together.

“Megumi?” He peered around the shelf, finding his friend sitting on the old wooden floor, frantically flipping through a book with yellowed pages that seemed to be falling apart at the seams. It must’ve been ancient.

“No sense, no sense, no sense,” he repeated over and over again as if that phrase was the only thing keeping him sane.

“Megumi?” Itadori tried again and finally Megumi’s head snapped up and he looked at Itadori like a deer caught in headlights… only way worse. His eyes were bloodshot with dark purple circles underneath them. A stark contrast to his sickly pale skin. Briefly, Yuji wondered if Megumi had slept at all since it happened. Tears were streaming down his face and it felt like they would never stop. An endless river of sorrow and despair. Yuji was sure he heard his own heart shatter in his chest as he looked at his best friend. He wished he could take some of the pain away. Even if it was just a little, but of course that was impossible. “The ceremony will start soon and-“

“That’s stupid!” Fushiguro cut him off harshly, his voice hoarse and quieter than usual. “Why would there be a freaking ceremony when she’s coming back?!”

“Megumi, she-“

“No! Stop it!” He yelled, throwing the book he was reading against the opposite wall. “Stop it! Shut up!” He pressed his palms against his temples as if he wanted to crush his own skull. “I’ll do it, you’ll see! All of you! You’ll see! I’ll bring her back! I’ll bring her back, okay?! I will – I will!” He repeated it over and over again and it was apparent that he wanted to proof himself right more than anything else. Maybe making him believe would help ease his pain? Should he encourage him? No. Despite wishing that he could provide some words of comfort right now, Itadori knew that false hope would be the cruelest thing he could offer. No matter how much it hurt, but Megumi couldn’t go on like this… searching for something that wasn’t real.

“Megumi, please. You’ll regret it if you don’t come,” Itadori tried again, picking up the book that Megumi had thrown away. He flipped through the first pages and he could already tell that the answers Megumi was searching for weren’t in this book. It was mostly about how sorcerers could reincarnate as curses if their dead bodies weren’t handled properly. If they died you had to make sure that the last hit was infused with cursed energy. Usually, that took care of things. However, if they died of natural causes, diseases or accidents there was a special ritual, a ceremony that made sure their bodies were put to rest accordingly. Kind of like a funeral, but then again, not quite. This was the ceremony Fushiguro refused to attend, even though it was highly valued among sorcerers. It was a way to pay your last respects, value their accomplishments and thank them for their sacrifice. He probably refused to go because that would make her death final and he would be forced to move on, no matter how hard it would be… and it was going to be very hard.

“SHE’S COMING BACK, DAMMIT!” Megumi yelled at him, reaching for another book that was stocked in a pile he’d built himself. The tower crumbled with the way he yanked it out, dozen books falling to the ground, scattering to their feet. It was eerily quiet for a second, Yuji didn’t dare to speak. The atmosphere so thick, he doubted even Maki’s demon blade could cut through it. And then, right when he wanted to say something, anything really to get rid of the suffocating silence in the room, Megumi started sobbing. Not like before. Impossibly, it was even worse. His whole body shook with the action, hands that were clinging onto the book were trembling and despite him hanging his head low, Yuji could see the frequent tears that were hitting the old worn out pages of the book, blurring the ink further, making it almost unreadable.

Hesitantly, he took a step forward, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should he hug him? What could he even say? Should he call for someone? Gojo-sensei? Would he know what to do? Or Nobara? Or, wait! Y/N always knew what to do when it came to him… Oh, right…

Yuji slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. How could he forget?! It really didn’t feel real yet, huh? Itadori tried to swallow the big lump in his throat as he crouched down and gently took the book out of Fushiguro’s shaking hands. He looked so fragile, as if a single slap to the wrist could break his arm.

“I just don’t get it,” Megumi whispered. His voice sounded far away, as if he was underwater or as if Yuji had cotton in his ears, muffling his voice to a point where it was almost incomprehensible. “It’s just so unfair.”

Yuji placed the book on the ground beside him, skipping over the title “Resurrection and the balance of the world”, it read. He gulped again. Could it be possible?

“I know it is.” He laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and another muffled cry escaped Megumi’s mouth. Yuji had seen a lot over the course of just one year, but not once has he witnessed such utter despair. The sight pulled on his heart strings in ways he couldn’t even explain.

“She fought against the most heinous creatures every day and you’re telling me she died because some fucking asshole thought it was a good idea to drive while being absolutely shit faced?!” Some of his words were swallowed by his sobs, but Itadori understood him well enough. “I refuse to believe that! I refuse to accept that!”

Momentarily Itadori was thrown back to the moment they got the call, he remembered it all too vividly. The shock, the confusion and his scream…

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the nurse led them into the room. The air was chilly and it smelled like disinfectant. The stench so unbelievably strong, Megumi thought he might throw up. It burned in his eyes and nose and he distantly felt his cheeks getting wet. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the smell or of what was to come… at this point, it still felt like a sick joke, some twisted game or prank. Just not real, like a dream, a nightmare he would wake up from any second.

There was a single bed in the middle of the room, the body underneath covered by a white cloth. Gojo, Nobara and Yuji gathered around it, hands clutched together in front of them as if they were silently praying. Megumi hesitated. He stood in the doorframe, looking at the scene in front of him and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Everyone was crying. Even Gojo seemed more tense than usual and he was sure he saw a stray tear slip from underneath his sunglasses.

The room was silent, except for the door falling shut behind him as the nurse left them to mourn in peace. This was a dream, right? A nightmare? How could it be anything else?

Megumi’s footsteps echoed off the walls as he hesitantly approached the bed covered in white sheets.

This is just a dream. This is a nightmare. You’re going to wake up any second now. Just wake up. Wake up! Wake up, dammit!

But he didn’t wake up. Not even as he reached for the white cloth. And he didn’t wake up as he slowly lifted it up. He didn’t wake up when everyone sucked in a sharp breath. And he didn’t wake up as Nobara’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground sobbing. He didn’t wake up as he laid his eyes on your peaceful but lifeless face.

Megumi didn’t wake up. But God did he wish he did.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Studying your features. How your hair was softly flowing on the pillow, how your lips were slightly parted as if you would wake up at any given moment and tell him something important. But he also noticed that your cheeks lacked their signature pinkish tint and your lips were more blue than their usual vibrant red.

His hand inched closer to your face, connecting to your cheeks and adoringly caressing it. It was cold underneath his touch. Your skin feeling more like wax than it felt alive.

No one said anything, the only sound was Nobara’s quiet sobs that she tried to stiffle to the best of her abilities. Everyone watched Megumi and no one knew what to do. Neither of them has ever felt so helpless. Even Gojo was rendered speechless at the heartbreaking sight in front of him.

And then, everything slowly started to sink in…

She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s really gone! You’re not waking up! Why aren’t you waking up?! Wake up!! No, no, no. This can’t happen. This can’t happen. This isn’t happening! Tell me this isn’t happening?!

Didn’t I just talk to her this morning? Didn’t we talk about going to the beach as soon as it got warmer? Didn’t we make dinner plans? Didn’t she boast about a new recipe she wanted to try? Didn’t this just happen? And you’re telling me that all of that is just… gone? Just like that? In a moments notice… poof?! Evaporated into thin air? You’re telling me that?

“Wake up, dammit! Wake up, dammit! WAKE UP!”

Everyone stared helplessly at Fushiguro. At first no one knew if he was talking to himself or you, but then he started desperately shaking your shoulders, repeating the words over and over again. “We wanted to go to the beach, remember? You told me you couldn’t wait! Come back, and I’ll drive us right now! Come back! Come back to me, please! Please!”

Gojo couldn’t bear the sight anymore. The way he shook your body as if that would change anything. With a few long strides he closed the distance between him and Megumi and pulled him away from the bed. He was thrashing at him, screaming in his face to let him go, but Gojo didn’t listen. He gladly took a hit or two if that meant Fushiguro could get at least some of his frustration out of his body. To Gojo, the room itself was a hard place to be in – for obvious reasons. The energy here made him feel uneasy and on edge. The amount of cursed energy gushing out of Megumi was immense and almost unbearable. He had to get his emotions in check or else…

Megumi continued to yell and thrash. “Let me go, you bastard! Let me go! I need to see her! I need to see her!”

“I understand that this is hard for you, but you need to calm down!” Gojo’s voice was stern. This was probably the first time ever that he actually put on the façade of a responsible adult. Nobara and Yuji watched the two with wide eyes, but didn’t interfere otherwise. “If you keep this up, you might end up cursing her! Do you want that?!”

“Let me go! Let me go!” Megumi wasn’t listening.

“Megumi, snap out of it!” Gojo’s palm connected to Megumi’s cheek, his flesh burning hot where it had connected. For a moment, the room was silent again. Only Megumi’s labored breaths broke through the thick tension.

“You bastard!” Megumi launched himself at Gojo with all his strength, but that was exactly what Gojo intended. It was better if he directed all his energy towards him than having it leak out of him uncontrollably. Otherwise he had the potential of manifesting a new special grade curse that neither one of them wanted to deal with, especially if you were to be reborn as said curse.

Megumi stopped his relentless attacks, knees buckling under his weight as a single agony filled screamed echoed off the walls…

Megumi slowly opened his eyes. His head was aching, blood soaring in his ears. What happened? He looked around himself. The room was dark, only illuminated by the moon light that peered through his partially closed blinds. He was laying in his bed, the room a mess just like he remembered. That was unlike him. Well, ever since that day he hasn’t been himself at all. Now, he more or less felt like an empty shell, existing but not alive.

He groaned, sitting up while he rubbed his temples, hoping to get the relentless throbbing to stop. Ah, that’s right. A few flashes of the previous events reminded him of what had happened. Megumi’s frustration and anger had gotten the best of him and he started throwing books, ripping them out of their shelves and even tearing some of them apart when he couldn’t find the answers he was looking for. Yuji had to call for Gojo and he in turn had knocked him unconscious.

Megumi huffed. Great. Now he was probably not permitted to go to the library again. He should really start thinking before lashing out like this. No, matter, though. If push comes to shove he’d find a way in and if it’s the last thing he did. He didn’t really care anymore anyways. What’s the worst that could happen? Expulsion? That was nothing.

He peeled the covers back, his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably. Maybe he should take a shower before he went back again.

Reluctantly, he got up and walked towards his bathroom, mindful not to trip on anything that was scattered on his floor.

Once he was there, he turned the shower faucet on, letting the water heat up while he stripped out of his clothes. His head was still killing him and his whole body ached. He shivered, even as he got into the shower and the hot water burned his skin. He was still cold. For some reason he didn’t seem to be able to get warm anymore, as if you took all of his warmth with you, when you left him.

“Ew, stop doing that,” you laughed wholeheartedly as Megumi shook his wet hair in your face after coming out of the shower. “Seriously, are you a dog?”

“No, but I love hearing you laugh.” Megumi wrapped his arms around you, pressing your back against his naked chest as you both watched your reflection in the mirror. “I really love you, Y/N. So much,” he whispered in your ear, not taking his eyes off the mirror. He could see the faint blush on your cheeks and he placed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck to emphasize his words.

“I love you, too.” The smile on your lips and the way your eyes sparkled with joy, filled his heart with warmth and light. He could bask in it for all eternity and he would never get tired of it.

Megumi turned the water off, still shivering. It was to no use. His skin was burning red, though, and the whole room was filled with steam and yet, he had goosebumps all over his body. His teeth started clattering as he dried himself and he put on new clothes.

The clock on his bedside table told him that it was three in the morning. He felt like he forgot about something… something important. What was it again?

And then his eyes widened in shock. No, no, no.

“Hey, look!” Megumi felt your slender fingers wrap around his wrist, your warmth immediately warming his cold skin. You tugged him gently and he followed you. It didn’t take long for you to reach your desired destination and you stopped, eyes shining with awe in them as you watched over the city, lights sparkling and illuminating the darkness. Megumi couldn’t deny that the view was breathtaking, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from constantly looking at you instead. The way your face lit up, the way the lights danced on your face and how your cheeks were always tinted in their usual pinkish color, made him fall for you all over again. His heart hammered in his chest and his pulse picked up. Butterflies assaulting his stomach in the best way imaginable and he felt like he was floating above ground. Never has he felt so happy. “There! It’s starting!” You beamed at him as the first flash of light painted the night sky in a bright blue color, then it changed to red and then green. The sound of other fireworks being set off rang through the otherwise silent night. Here, on top of the mountain away from anyone, it was the most peaceful place he could imagine. But he wasn’t sure if it was only because of the view and the fact that no one was around or if it was because you were here. Whatever it was, he didn’t dream to fight it. The feeling so foreign yet so welcomed.

Suddenly your hand appeared in his line of vision and he didn’t hesitate to take it. What he didn’t expect was you starting to spin around. It took him a moment to catch up. “C’mon, Megumi, what are you doing? Don’t just stand there so stiffly! Dance with me!” You urged him on and Megumi felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He could only hope that you couldn’t see it.

“There’s no music, though,” he said, trying to find an excuse to not make a complete fool out of himself. You see, Megumi wasn’t a dancer. Give him a choreographed fighting formation and he could do that no problem, but moving his feet to the rhythm of a song? Nope. That was sure to end in him tripping over his own feet and in the worst case break his leg or arm.

You rolled your eyes at him, but instead of saying anything, you reached into your back pocket to get a hold of your phone. It didn’t take long and the sound of the fireworks was mixed with the soft tune of a song that he didn’t know. “Better?”

Well, not really… Megumi scratched the back of his head, unsure. Better to come clean, I guess. “You see… I can’t really dance… like at all,” Megumi stammered.

“So what? I can’t dance either,” you laughed, spinning around and jumping up and down like it was the most normal thing to do. The smile on your face never faltered and you did another spin, throwing your hands up in the air, moving them around awkwardly. Megumi couldn’t help but laugh at your awkward movements. You looked so silly, it was hilarious. “See? Now it’s only fair that you make a fool out of yourself, too. You can’t leave me hanging like this!”

What the hell, right? Megumi started moving his feet, still super stiffly and anything but graceful, but he did it. He looked at you, following your movements and it didn’t take him long to get the hang of it… well, somewhat at least. He still looked really awkward and helpless, so you reached both your hands out for him again and he grabbed them without hesitation, just like before. You started spinning both of you in circles, giggling at the way his face lit up slightly. He joined your laughter, looking at you with the most adoring smile in the world. It felt… so easy. Everything with you felt so easy.

So now it was just the both of you, spinning around in fast circles, laughing at the night sky filled with stars while in the distance the sound of fireworks slowly died down. The music playing softly in the background, but you didn’t even care that the rhythm of the song didn’t match with your movements at all. Nothing mattered in that moment. Just the two of you. Together. Forever.

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up.” Gojo scratched the back of his neck, smiling apologetically. “Maybe I was a bit too rough, when I knocked you out. Sorry about that.”

Megumi stared at him sitting in the front row of lined up chairs. The room was only dimly lit by the candles at the other end. The soft light they cast illuminated a picture of you in a black frame. It was the same one he had saved as his phone background. Megumi gulped, feet moving on their own as he approached Gojo, though, he felt his knees wobble unsteadily. The air became thicker and thicker with every other step he took. It felt excruciatingly hard to breathe. It was suffocating.

Megumi sat down on a chair next to Gojo, forcing himself to tear his eyes off the framed picture in front of him. If he didn’t he was afraid he might break down again. So he shifted his attention to the man in the chair next to him. He was already looking at him, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, as usual. There was a slight frown in his features, though, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line, a stark contrast to his normally giddy self. So Gojo could be serious, huh? Who would’ve thought? Bet you would’ve loved to see him like that…

“Megumi,” Gojo broke the silence first, his tone soft, but there was a certain sternness behind it that Megumi didn’t know he had until now. It left no room for interpretation. This was going to be a serious talk and Fushiguro didn’t know if he was ready for that yet. “I know that losing someone you care about is not easy and I’m not trying to pretend that I know exactly what you’re going through right now, but I’m telling you as your sensei and as a friend… you have to move on. And that means you have to stop looking for ways to bring her back.”

Megumi opened his mouth to tell him off, but Gojo just held a finger up to show him he wasn’t done yet. The crease between Megumi’s brows deepened, but he kept his mouth shut regardless. “The world works under a few distinct principles. Rules that cannot be broken, if you will. Like we know that after the sun sets, dawn will come. With darkness, there is light and no matter how harsh a winter might be, spring will always come next. And the pinnacle of those rules will always be that with life there comes death. We don’t get to choose when this’ll be or how it’ll happen, but from the moment we’re born we know without a doubt that we’ll have to leave this place at some point. Death is certain. It’s but one part of life and disrupting that cycle, breaking one of the unbreakable rules, would cause the whole system to fall apart. It would level the ground for mayhem and destruction, nothing would make sense anymore. The world would crumble. As sorcerers you know that we protect the ones who cannot protect themselves, but we also maintain balance and Megumi… while I do understand your desire to see her again, I have to warn you… even if there is a chance, I won’t let you do it at the expense of everyone else’s life.”

Silence fell between them again. Megumi had a hard time believing that these words really just came out of Gojo’s mouth. Deep down, he knew he was right. He knew it was a futile plan to bring you back. It was selfish and irresponsible, but he was so… desperate. So desperate to hear your voice again, so desperate to listen to you laugh or complain, so desperate to feel your delicate and warm touch on his cold skin. He was so desperate for these things; he couldn’t think straight. His mind felt foreign to him without you there. He didn’t know who he was, who he would be without you by his side. He didn’t know if he wanted to be in this world anymore with his source of warmth and comfort gone. They said, time healed all wounds but as of now that seemed impossible. Just a thing people told themselves to keep moving forward. A lie that was supposed to protect oneself from the cruel and harsh truth that the world didn’t stop spinning, that time passed by and that dawn always came… no matter what. The world moved forward regardless if you were here or not and it felt like a cruel joke to him. Nothing seemed the same. He didn’t recognize anything, looking at the world with different eyes. How could there be a world without you in it? Why was everyone moving forward while he was left behind? And how could they? How could they move on? Why didn’t the world stop spinning? It should. Because nothing felt right. Nothing was the same. And yet… that only held true for him.

Megumi wiped away his silent tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “But I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he croaked out. It was the first thing that came to his mind. He replayed the morning with you over and over again and he couldn’t remember if he said goodbye to you when you left that fateful day. Did he? Did he not? In any case, he would’ve never thought how final of a farewell it would’ve been in the end. “I don’t even remember the last thing I said to her,” he sobbed.

He felt beyond guilty for not being able to recall it clearly. Did he say ‘I love you’? Did you say it back? He wanted to believe he did, but he just wasn’t sure and it drove him insane.

“She knew that you loved her very much, Megumi. I’m sure she knew until the very end.” Gojo patted his shoulder a few times, before he got up. “Take all the time you need.” He left the room, closing the door behind him, but not before he turned around one last time, looking at Megumi with worried eyes. “But remember, Megumi… You have to move on eventually, no matter how hard it is. For her sake and your own… Just know that you have people in your life that you can rely on any time, okay?”

Megumi nodded and Gojo let the door fall shut behind him. The silence that ensued was almost deafening. Finally, Megumi let his tears fall freely, sobbing like a child and sucking in air after shallow breaths.

Everything hurt with you gone. How could he ever move on? How could he ever love again? Megumi was scared he might break in half. How much pain could someone even bear? Though, deep down he knew that he didn’t have a choice… He had to try. And he would try his hardest to keep moving forward, holding on to that tiny glimpse of hope that one day he’d see you again. And when he did, he swore to himself to never stop telling you how much he loved you. Always and forever.

623 notes · View notes

midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

14 - painless.

previous chapter like father, like son.

m.list.

tw - angst, kidnapping, mental health, blood, drugs, non-con.

*this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

“I hate you.. “

He responds with an annoyed sigh..

you simmered through out the ride, your unwell condition exaggerating your emotions..

the car pulled in the underground parking lots, as soon as he unlocks the doors you throw the teddy bear at him hitting his face..

You bolt out the car starching your steps as wide as you can, He stalks behind you, thanks to his long legs he mange to reach the elevator door before you.. the lifeless stuffed toy in his hand..

He steps I first and you follow him.. you lean on the cold steal walls of the elevator, finding solace in it’s coolness against your hot body..

You stomp to the apartment door and cross your arms huffing while he opens the door.. he lets you walk in first

When you step in you attempt to slam the door in his face.. but your pity attempt fails as he catches the door before it closes.

You were testing your limits with him.. even though you know you should quite before he snaps, you continue

You kick the ridiculous crocks shoes he had given you earlier and storm off to his room, this time successfully slamming the door..

you took of the hoodie and threw it on the floor remaining in a thin t-shirt, a pitifully announcing your rebliouling ..

you flopped on his bed, your bottom lip quivering.. the anger turned into frustration that could be only be expressed with tears.. tears you don’t want to cry any more, tears you don’t want to show any more..

You expected him to follow you, to shout, to beat you.. anything, but he doesn’t.

After you’ve calmed down.. you reflect and you think you may have overreacted..

It’s 3:53 am .. it’s almost morning, you’ve given up on today.. you lay to sleep your frustration away..

Days have passed with you keeping your distance, and due to your unwell condition they have allowed you your space..

Days turns over in waste.. another tools over, a bitter taste stronger than ever before blooms in your mouth greats you as you open your eyes to the new day.. a heavy sadness resides inside of you, weighing your limbs down..

You feel empty, a shell of human.. mentally drained, you try to push through it..

You get up to an empty apartment.. the clock reads 11:48 am, they should be at work right now..

You open the fridge looking for something to appease you.. cereal and milk,

Jaemin’s blanket folded neatly over the couch next to it was the teddy bear he bought you.. still sitting in it’s place since that night..

You feel embarrassed for your childish actions.. your heart squeeze in guilt, dose he even sleep?

You finish your sweet breakfast and take your temperature.. it reads 37, you follow with the last round of your meds..

With n nothing to occupy it, your mind wonders to him.. to his warm embrace, it was all you could think about..

You overcome your pride and lay on the couch, in the same spot he sleeps on.. you wrap yourself with his blanket..

you lie to yourself and pretend you only did it because you are too lazy to walk back to his room..

You doze off once you were content with the warmth that surrounded you..

You jolt up and scrambling to put the blanket to the it’s original form before they get back and see you clinging to jaemin’s blanket..

You know you shouldn’t indulge yourself in him.. it’s not healthy, he’s deeply disturbed man, you shouldn’t.. but only this time.

Another week comes and goes with no events..

the calmness feels uneasy, a nagging feeling in you keeps you on guard..

One of those boring evenings, that you usually spend hiding in jaemin’s room reading whatever book is available, started taking a steep turn when you hear your name being called..

You pounder whether to answer it or ignore it..

You walk out the room turning the corner to the open space of the living room to see three men seated around the couch..

jaemin, jeno and an unfamiliar face that rings alarms in you.. the air smells like alcohol, three pair of dark eyes staring at you..

“is that her?” The stranger asks.. oilgning you

“come closer.. he’s not gonna bite you” jeno says in an upbeat tone.. his face is flushed red, side effects of being intoxicated..

“Your dad has a great taste ..” The stranger nudges jaemin who remains eerily quite..

“Come here..” Jeno pats the space next to him..

and against your better judgment you take one step closer, jeno grabs your wrist.. you dig in your heals and try to free your arm..you struggle against jeno’s strength before the stranger man speaks again ..

“oh jeno don’t hurt the pretty girl.. let het go” he humors jeno .. and they both laugh..

The stranger stand, his hight stretches above you..he’s not as built as jeno but you can tell you have already lost against him, he comes closer to you, sister look in his eyes..

“Hey .. my name is haechan, what’s yours sweetheart?”..

His right hand stretched to shake yours you look at it with disgust..

His hand retreat to fall to his side, his young poking the inner side of his cheek.. he turns to look at jaemin, who was quietly watching the interaction, cool and seemingly relaxed he sips on his whisky and nod giving an approval..

Feeling of dread crept up to your stomach.. your heart beats loud in your ears, your mind begins to cloud with fear..

Haechan turns to you, his hand shamlessly blaming his crotch.. your eyes wiedding in shock cracking jeno into a laughter.

He strides towards you like an animal cornering it’s prey,

“Stay away from me!” You bark at him with no intimidation,

Amused jeno warns “carful she scratches” ..

Your attempt to run was intercepted by jeno’s arms.. he catches you and lock you in his arms, you twist and struggle in his hold.. “let me go!”

but your weak fight makes them laugh even more than before ..

“You have been bad sera..” Jeno whispers in your ear..

“Jaemin .. jaemin please!” You plead to him..

but he remains non responsive to your pleads..

“Just go with sera.. it will be much easier “ ..

Jaemin finally spoke, his words shattering you.. Your eye well up with hot tears blurring your vision.. you still in disbelief, haechan turns to open his back bag, reaching for something, You desperately try to free yourself.. when haechan returns with a needle in his hand, you start kicking and screaming..

jeno grabs your left arm and straighten it and Hacehan .. they overpower you and hold you still while Hacehan inserts the needle in your arm emptying it’s contents into your blood stream.. jeno lets you go and the room goes silent except for heavy breathing..

jaemin’s cold eye watch as the horrific scene unfolds..

The hot substance burns through your veins.. your fast heartbeat stumbles as it slows down, your body slowly relaxes and the stress evaporates as warmth takes it’s place..

All of worries and pains start to evaporates.. the room spins around you, limps heaving, eyes loses it’s focus, you collapse but it’s euphoric..

You lay in pleasure you have never felt before.

Everything feels like a lucid dream.. being carried.. rough hands undressing you.. unfamiliar body against your.. “Shh don’t cry” wet mouth kissing your neck.. “Don’t worry.. I’ll be gentle..” whispered in your ear..

you keep falling in a bottomless hole, hours of your life goes missing, faint memories remains to remind you that you will always be the only victim of this war.

#nct yandere #nct mafia au #nct dream yandere #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct agnst #nct angst

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asmo-ds · 3 years

Note

this is kind off relatable for everyone tbh. mc got pissed off when another quarantine was announced so they packed their stuff and found a way to go to the devildom on their own. none of the brothers knew that they would be staying with them, how would they react? i can imagine asmo being shocked when he sees how irritated mc's skin is because of the masks!!

There Is No Pandemic in Hell

Obey me Crack

Word Count: 2534

Summary: when the government announces the quarantine has been extended, MC decides to pack their bags and head down to Hell, but they were so desperate to leave they didn’t wait for permission and instead grabbed their bike and rode all the way to their real home.

A/N: Ok so the brothers aren’t really in this fic until like the end and its mostly MC riding their bike through the layers of Hell and almost dies like 10 times. And they fight a cult. That happens too.

“The governor has announced that we will be once again shutting down most businesses and we will be required to wear our masks no matter where we are, that includes restaurants, which will be closing due to the inability to eat with a mask on. Furthermore, we-” You turned off the television, groaning pulling on your mask before you headed to the market. You couldn’t believe that so many people had refused to wear masks and now you were forced back to square one of the world’s recovery from COVID-19.

As you walked down the aisle of the grocery store, you got lost in thought. Did demons ever get sick? Surely they wouldn’t be affected by COVID and they definitely wouldn’t be trapped inside their home for 95% of their day (unless you’re Leviathan and then you will happily do so). You realize you passed half of the aisles you had meant to go down, effectively missing half of your grocery list.

You feel your D.D.D vibrate in your pocket and rip it out wondering if you had missed your daily call with one of the brothers only to see the group chat was being talked in.

Horny Man: Heyyy anyone wanna go shopping with me?

Horny Man: Except Mammon, I’m not looking to go broke from his shopping trip

Gambling Addiction: Oi! I was gonna go with ya but now I think I’ll stay >:(

Otaku Snek: yea that was what Asmo wanted lolz

Mom: I have council business with Diavolo today.

Bookworm: You can call it a date y’know?

Mom: Satan, come to my study immediately I want to have a talk with you.

Gambling Addiction: Ha! It ain’t me in trouble for once

Otaku Snek: Anyway I can’t I have an in-person meet up with some of my teammates

Hunger: Asmo, may I come along so we can stop at Madame Screams?

Horny Man: Of course Beel ~

You silence your phone and put it in your pocket. You couldn’t stand to watch them make plans so casually. It was unfair. You wanted to go out and have fun without your mask or risking your health.

You wished you could be in the Devildom walking around breathing fresh air and not walking through eerily empty stores yelling through two masks and some plexiglass. That’s when it struck you.

Diavolo had told you that you had a home in the Devildom and were always welcome. So why could you not just go back now? Spare yourself the acne you gain from masks and the annoyance of not being able to hang out with anybody but your reflection every day.

You abandon your cart in your excitement, silently thanking whoever has to clean it up and apologize as you run out of the store. You make it back to your home, pulling a backpack from the depths of your closet and opening it, throwing your most needed items in, and attempting to zip the overfilled bag as you try to think of how you’d get there.

You know that Lucifer would never allow you to come on such short notice, so you knew asking them was a no-go. You suddenly remembered someone mentioning how to get to the Devildom by foot you had to walk through the seven layers of hell and you groaned knowing it was going to be a rough journey.

You try to figure out where the entrance to the seven layers would be, googling all sorts of demonic places where worshippers would gather. You find one that seems like a good option as it is nearby.

You get on your bike and ride to the area and start to look for any worshippers that would be willing to help you find the gate. You wander the dark woods watching carefully for raised tree roots or rocks that would cause your bike to break.

“Stop right there !” A man in a blood-red hood calls out. “State your business.”

“Listen, dude, I know Lucifer and I wanna go see him but he can’t know yet. So tell me where the gate is,” You reply impatiently.

“Why should I help you? You don’t even know how to open the gate! You do not deserve the help of Satan’s worshippers-” You climb off your bike putting up the kickstand and walk towards the robed stranger. You grab his collar with one fist and pull his face close to yours.

“Show. Me. The. Gate. Or so help me I’ll summon all seven lords right now and have them disembowel you and gouge your eyes out as the life leaves them. You won’t get to work for Satan as you wish for, instead, you’ll be eaten by him in the most painful torturous fashion. I have to say few words to get him here so I suggest you send me down right now, bud” You growl. The man looks as if he is about to cry and points behind him.

“T-the cave at the end of this path. You s-should walk into it and keep following the path of torches down. There you’ll f-f-find my cult and they’ll help you out, just tell them I sent you.” The man cries out with teary eyes. You let go and take a step back, giving a sweet smile.

“Thank you, sir! I’ll put in a good word with Satan for ya,” you wink at the man before getting on your bike, carefully continuing down the path. You were getting back to the Devildom if it killed you.

Thankfully the cave’s path was fairly smooth and you were able to ride your bike to the group the stranger had spoken of. They asked you to stop and you had a repeat of the process you took with the stranger.

“... Fine, we’ll send you down but we need a goat,”

The ritual was performed and you were engulfed in a dark shadowy mist. You appeared in an area clouded with a purple fog and you felt sudden drowsiness overtake you. Sloth, the closest layer to the human realm.

You smack your hands harshly to your cheeks and shake your limbs to wake yourself up. You then remember you had packed a pack of Redbull. You stopped your bike and pulled the backpack onto your lap, pulling a can out and opening it as you continue on your way.

By the time you reach gluttony, you had downed 5 Redbulls and were sure, if you even survived the demons that eyed you hungrily in the land with red fauna and food everywhere, you’d have a heart attack when you finally get to the House of Lamentation.

You slow your bike down a bit, knowing demons were sneaky and fast. You take off your jacket as it gets increasingly hot the lower you go. Demons lurk in shadows and eye you hungrily and you shiver. Instinctively you place a hand on your stomach as it rumbles. Gluttony.

You suddenly remember the human world snacks you had packed since you knew how badly you missed them last time you were down here. You once again pull your bag onto your lap, ripping the packaging open. The crinkle and sudden smell of food caused multiple demons to charge at you, drooling and feral looks in their eyes. You put the food in your mouth and speed off, pedaling as fast as you can to the fifth layer.

As the sky began to turn pink you let out a sigh of relief. Until you felt a small creature

on your shoulder. You had failed to notice it when you arrived in Beel’s layer, but it was a small demon that had fallen asleep under your coat and on your shoulder in Belphegor’s area.

“Hey there, little guy~” You coo at the creature giving it a small pet. “You wanna come back to RAD with me?” The creature nuzzles into your neck with a demonic purr.

You were glad to at least not be alone anymore.

Entering Lust was awful as you suddenly felt hot and bothered, barely able to keep pedaling. We’re almost to Wrath, just a bit further. Ignore the horny man’s power!

The clouds in the sky begin to turn a sort of green color, making the sky look a bit like a watermelon. Too caught up in staring at the sky you suddenly hear a small caw from your shoulder opposite of the one your newest companion rested on.

The black crow with yellow eyes stared at you tilting its head. Mammon knows I’m here you thought giving his pact mark on your collar bone a soft touch to let him know you were okay, glad it was him that knew and not another brother who was bound to tattle on you. You nodded at the bird as it fluttered its wings and flew above you.

As you paid attention to the bird and the way it kept pace with you an angry demon jumped at you, knocking you and your bike over as your small friend and the crow both made noises of surprise.

“Hey, Kevin, it’s alright if I call you that, right sleepy head?” you looked at Kevin as he made a happy noise in response. You turn your attention back to the angry demon that had taken the form of a large feline. “Yup… this is definitely Satan’s realm,” you sigh before sprinting off in a different direction trying to get the demon off your trail. You swerve through trees for quite a bit before you are able to get back to your bike, you, Kevin and the crow taking off at high speeds, approaching the orange wetlands.

Its so unfair I have to go through all of this, your mind wanders, they all get to have this life without this stupid journey. So stupid.

You shake your head, urging away Leviathan’s envy and continuing to pedal down the dry path that was surrounded by an orange sea for miles. You focus on the path and stare straight ahead.

Suddenly, Mammon’s crow caws in a panic as the water splashed upward with a creature that lunges for MC who manages to swerve and avoid the attack, pedaling faster and breathing heavily. At least I don’t have to wear the stupid mask while riding my bike anymore.

The sky gets lighter, turning yellow and the crow flies in circles above your head cawing with the excitement of being in the layer of Greed. Gold littered the grown, jewels scattered about. It was bright and you had to squint but it was beautiful.

Suddenly you stopped, an overwhelming urge to scoop piles of gold to bring along with you. Mine, Mine, my mind raced with selfish thoughts I need all of it.

Your eyes shimmer with the reflection of gold as you reach out fingertips brushing a shiny Grimm before Mammon’s crow bites your ear, causing you to jerk back and place your hands over the targeted appendage

Wincing you move your hand and see the blood. “What the hell asshat! Do you know how much the straps of my mask are gonna hurt to put on now, stu- oh that’s right I won’t need the mask. BUT STILL THST HURT, YOU JERK!” The crow seemed to give you attitude and you realized it probably just saved you from succumbing to the sin and being trapped in this realm forever. You start pedaling again seeing a royal blue fog ahead.

You take a deep breath and keep going forward, trying to stay as quiet as possible, knowing any demon in Lucifer’s land would be the strongest out of any you’ve encountered thus far.

You failed to consider the blood dripping from your earlobe attracting demons to you. Suddenly a demon tackles you, throwing your bike to the side as it pins you down, mouth watering onto your face as it stares at your bleeding ear. You scream and kick attempting to free yourself to no avail. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as sudden regret runs through you.

Why hadn’t you just asked Lucifer and waited a couple of days? Why were you so desperate to escape Corona that you literally biked to hell?

“Kevin… Crow… Thanks for coming with me,” you whimper as the demon opens its mouth wide ready to bite.

Suddenly before it can attach its mouth to you’re flesh a sword goes into its mouth and out the nape of its neck. You shiver as its blood drips onto you.

“I should’ve known why we hadn’t heard from you in weeks,” a familiar voice says as he kicks the dying demon away from your trembling body.

You jump up and wrap your body around the torso of Lucifer, squeezing and crying. “LUCIII THAT WAS SO SCARY WHY DIDN’T YOU GET HERE SOONER” you sobbed as he took his handkerchief and wiped your tears and snot.

“Well, I wouldn’t even have known you were here if it weren’t for that idiot Mammon bursting into my office screaming about you biking your way through the layers.” He sighs and suddenly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he lectures you the whole way, dragging your bike with the hand that wasn’t keeping you steady as the crow let Kevin ride on his back.

“Wait hold on did. you say weeks?” you interrupt him.

“Yes time moves slower in the seven layers than it does in any of the places you’ve been to. So you were in there for about two weeks in our time, but to you it should have felt like maybe a few hours.”

“Ya should be thanking the GREAT Mammon for finding you and sending his best crow to find ya!” Mammon scolds as you sit on the couch, head hung in shame with Asmo and Belphie at your sides.

Lucifer had left to go speak to Diavolo on the matter of the human exchange student walking through all seven layers of hell.

“These guys are my favorite part of my layer,” Belphie reaches to your lap and pets Kevin, “They’re really sweet, y’know, for demons.”

“MC those masks were so bad for your skin,” Asmo puts his hands on your cheeks, twisting and turning your head to get a better look at the damage. “Tonight we will dedicate to fixing that skin of yours!”

“No way! MC obviously wants to come to play the new game I got today with me!” Levi shouts.

“Nuh-uh, they owe me and gotta come with me to the casino tonight!” Mammon yells back, as all the brothers grow irritated.

“MC, would you like to watch some detective movies with me, one of my larger felines attacked you and I feel as though I owe you,” Satan puts a hand on your shoulder.

Belphie smacks Satan’s hand away and pulls MC against him, “guys they’re exhausted can we not do this right now…”

When Belphegor goes to ask what you want to do he is met with your closed eyes and steady breathing, mouth hung slightly ajar.

“...Yea we should have expected that but I get MC first when they wake up I call dibs, you can’t go against dibs!” Asmodeus continues the argument over who gets to hang out with MC first as Belphegor lays down and falls asleep with them.

You were just really fucking happy that you didn’t have to wear your mask and you could cuddle with people for the first time since March.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me luficer #obey me crack #obey me crack hc #shall we date asmodeus #obey me! shall we date?#shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me oneshot #obey me imagines #sad obey me imagines #obey me satan imagine #satan obey me imagine

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the-lighwood-who-lived · 3 years

Text

Hold on I still need you...

SUMMARY: Y/N, the youngest avenger- in her teens, with quite the bond with the rest of the Avengers, especially Steve and Tony- being the only one who can make the two agree. This fic is her POV of the events of endgame. What happens when a high school girl goes through what the avengers had to. When the only family she held with all her might split apart.

------------------------------------------------------------------

I looked around; the bitter air thick. It’s been 5 years…

Like any other day, I walk around the avengers facility... first, like every other morning I go to Pietro’s room, like I’ve been doing years before the decimation. I move his things around a bit, feels like the ghost of him in the pages of his diary, his ridiculous set of sneakers.

Then I move on to re-open newer wounds… I got into Wanda’s room, slide by Vision’s, spend some time in Bucky’s room and let some light into Sam’s. I walk into Tony’s finally… he wasn’t turned to ashes, he just left… so did Thor… so did Clint…

Nat would have finished mission reports with the rest of them, so I decide to walk to her. I found Steve there too, Nat had cried, I could see. She smiled as she saw me walk in. ‘Hey Y/N, daily patrol done?’ she asks as casual as she can make it seem. ‘Mmhmm’ I reply distracted as I hug her and then move to Steve to do the same. ‘How are you kiddo?’ Steve asks as I pull away from him and sit on Nat’s table. ‘Great’ I mumble.

What else could I say? Before…when I joined the team during Ultron’s threat, I was the only one who could make Steve and Tony see eye to eye. Being the youngest on the team, with beliefs like Steve and interests like Tony, I went along with both of them. What was once reality is now a far away fantasy.

‘Its okay to not be okay Y/N’ Steve pressed, putting an arm on my shoulder. ‘Stop Steve, I love you but I’ll hit you with Nat’s peanut butter sandwich if you give me that speech again’

Steve shook his head laughing as Nat smirked. She must have probably told him the same thing.

Nat and Steve continued their conversation as I lost focus staring outside the facility. That’s when I saw it- there was someone at the gate. ‘Nat check the security footage.’ I said suddenly. No… how?... it was him, it was Scott Lang.

Time skip to the whole Quantum theory explanation thingy. Now we were on our way to the smartest guy I know, the only guy who could possibly save us. Stark.

I hadn’t met Tony in about three years… he last time I saw him, was when Morgan was born. Oh, how I love little Morgan, but I stayed away… for the sake of us. I was buzzing in excitement putting my jacket on as I felt an arm on my shoulder. I turn to see Nat and Steve in slight worry and a very clueless Scott. ‘What?’ I ask smiling, the smile faltered away quick enough when neither Nat nor Steve returned it.

‘Listen, Y/N, you haven’t met Tony in a while. Just don’t get hurt okay.’ Nat tried saying it in a way adults talk so as to not worry kids. I’m not a kid, I get it, I’m an Avenger.

I nodded. This was our life now, no hope. ‘At least I haven’t given up hope Nat’ I say rather harsh, as Nat takes in a sharp breath. ‘I’m sorry Nat I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry’ I hurry to cover my mistake. But the damage was done, Nat puts on a stoic demeanor and replies, ‘Its okay’.

We walk to the car in silence, Steve put a hand behind my back so as to say its okay. The Avengers- if you could call us that- were lost.

We parked the car in front of Tony’s cozy cottage. I stood behind Steve as we got out the car. There he was, just standing there- Tony, with Morgan in his arms. He nodded at Nat, who hid a glint of happiness in her smirk. And then he saw me. He visibly sucked in his breath as I attempted for a smile. He set Morgan down who ran inside, to pepper probably. I looked at Steve, who gave me a small smile and nod, then walked towards tony.

I stood in front of him. ‘Hey Tony’ I whisper. ‘Hey kid’ he replies, his emotions evidently straining him. He is the most stoic person I know, yet, he pulled me into a hug letting out a breath of relief. ‘Missed having you around kid’ he said. ‘I missed you Tony’ I replied, getting straight to the point, a huge knot in my throat. ‘You’ve grown tall haven’t you’ he chuckles.

I look back at Steve , who is smiling… his face ghosting all the times we had together, as a team, in the past. Nat and Steve follow us inside, Scott hurrying along.

Scott explains everything to Tony… but he’s scared, I can see it. Tony can’t stake his cards. He doesn’t. We’re walking back, its not failure just a setback. ‘Tony please… we can get them back… Wanda, Bucky, Peter! Just please Tony… try… how long do we live in the guilt of our failure.’ I yell at him. He looks at his drink. ‘I can’t lose what I found Y/N… I just can’t’ he says. I felt I was spiraling down an endless loop. ‘Do you not care….’ I whisper. He stares at me with betrayal in his eyes.

‘Y/N!’ Tony calls out as I’m almost in the car. We all stop. Tony walks up to Steve and says, ‘Let her stay, please. For some time at least.’ I smile a little…How can he ever think I could so easily give up what's going on. ‘I can’t rest yet Tony… I can’t unless I try to bring them back… unless I know I tried everything I can possibly try to get them back.’ I say as I get into the car, Nat behind.

We then made our way to our second, possibly last, resort- Bruce. It took a while, a weird sort of reunion – before he agreed. Scott was the experiment dummy… It didn’t go well. Steve walks out frustrated, I follow him. He stood leaning against a wall, I went and stood by him. ‘This isn’t going well is it’ I say and he nods.

That’s when our hope was lit up once again, we saw the black sports car… familiar as ever. Came to a stop right in front of us and out walked Tony. I looked at Steve breaking into the most kiddish grin ever. Knew he’d come… knew he’d solve it- now all that’s left is the mission.

That’s nothing new. We’ve done it a thousand times before.

---------------------------

Correction. It was nothing like before.

Nat’s gone…. I sat beside Steve as Clint told us the story. I could feel Bruce's anger. I could see Steve's tears. I could hear Tony's frustration. And i shared Clint's grief. I stood leaning by the pole Clint was standing next to. Silent tears running down my face. I'd never again see that beautiful red head in all her action. Never again would I see her being sassy to Steve, being the best friend ever to Clint, being protective over me, being hopeful over life. She's gone.

Thanos will pay for this. It is all his fault. He will pay for every tear that left my team. He will die for this.

------------------------

‘And I… am… Iron Man’

Those were the last words I heard Tony say as he went in for the snap, the power so strong that a surge of electricity went through all of us.

The rubble cleared, the smell of ashes thick in the air and dust and smoke flying around. 'Tony!' I yelled before I could even see him. I throw off the concrete that fell over me and run to Tony before anyone else comprehended what happened. Peter was there already, crying. Rhodes helped him off as I crouched next to Tony.

‘Hey kid’ he said as I held onto his hand. ‘Tony… hey….’ I said, trying not to cry, but failing terribly. ‘Friday’ I said, she replied instantly ‘Life vitals failing’. I felt the air get sucked out of me. ‘No Tony, please, you cant go… Tony please…’ I say desperate. ‘I’m proud of you Y/N’ he said, smiling knowingly. ‘No Tony don’t you dare talk like that! At least stay this time, Tony! I just got you back!’ I ranted, crying visibly now.

‘I love you’ He smiled. ‘Tony please…. Hold on I still need you’ I whispered eerily low, broken. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me away as pepper sat down. Steve. His eyes too were filled, like every soul on the battlefield. I couldn’t make out the exchange between pepper and Tony, I couldn’t hear Steve trying to help me, I couldn’t hear Peter crying… my ears were ringing.

I felt it before I heard it. Tony’s heart… it lost its beat. And then the ringing went silent. I let out every bit of my pain in one scream, as Steve tried to help me from collapsing, him being the only reason I was still standing. The battlefield went dead silent. All the warriors, heroes, on their knees…. For him, for Tony.

He’s gone. He’s with Nat now.

I whispered one last time under my breathe,

‘Hold on I still need you.’

#Avengers x reader #steve rodgers x reader #tony stark x reader #natasha x reader #clint x reader #peter x y/n #avengers x platonic reader #bucky x y/n #sam x reader #thor x reader #wanda x y/n #pietro x reader #steve x tony #hulk

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sharktoothedboys · 3 years

Text

Lips Of An Angel, Part 2

Here it is guys!! Part two!! Thank you for being patient with me!! and because you asked nicely I tagging @marshmallow12435 because you wanted to know when I posted!! So here goes! Enjoy everyone!!

====================================================

Shot ran until he thought his lungs might give out, he was hoping he would catch up to you before you even made it to Katsuki’s, if that was where you were even headed? No he couldn’t think like that, He was going to find you there.

There is was, just up ahead, Katsuki’s home, The lights were on, that’s a good sign right? It was almost 2am! Surely that had to mean you were there. He reached the door and began to hammer on it, Frantic, but he didn’t care, He needed to explain, or at least try to.

A very disgruntled Bakugo finally answered the door.

“She doesn’t wanna see you, Asshole.” He snapped a soon as he opened the door.

Shoto was trying to catch his breath on the blondes porch.

“I don’t care what you tell me she said, i need to speak to her.” He managed to get out between breaths.

He tried to push his way past the explosive hero, but to no avail, Bakugo stopped him.

“I said she doesn’t wanna see you.” He said eerily calm.

They angrily stared each other down at the front door, Bakugos grip on Shotos arm tightened, small crackles could be heard and the temperature in the room began to noticeably drop as the two heroes continued their stare down.

“Katsuki...” Your feeble voice came from behind the mountain of a man, “Its ok, i’ll handle it.”

Shoto looked behind Bakugo, his eyes widened in shock and sadness as he took in your dishevelled hair, red eyes and puffy cheeks, he had caused all this hurt, you let out a sniffle and he thinks he feels his heart break, This was all his fault. He snatches his arm away from Bakugos grip and quickly makes his way over to you, reaching for your hands, only to visibly wince when you retreat them from his reach, not letting him hold your hands in his.

“Say what you came to say, and leave.” You said, as you stared at you hands, picking at the loose skin around your nails, a habit of yours. “I already know all the important parts, so don’t try and play the victim here”

“No please, YN. I am not here to try and talk my way out of anything, what i have done is awful” He says sadly, “But please here me out.”

Bakugo interrupts. “I’ll be in the kitchen, YN if you need me to kick this guys ass, just shout.” He makes to leave, but not without harshly bumping in to Shotos shoulder first. Making you smirk a little. Petty, but you didn’t care.

“Thanks Suki.” You mutter, eyes still glued to your hands, still yet to look Shoto in the eye.

Shoto guides you to the sofa and sits down besides you, feeling the pain when you shuffle away from him being to close.

“I love you...” He begins but is quickly cut off.

“Don’t, Just don’t give me that bullshit, I don’t need you to lie to my face as well as behind my back, stop trying to make yourself feel better about doing something shitty. I don’t need your pity and your excuses, If that’s all you have to say then leave.”

“I can’t lie to you anymore, because I truly do love you, Please believe me.”

“WHY SHOULD I?!” You yell, forcing yourself to your feet to pace around, “Give me one good fucking reason as to why I should believe a god damn word that comes out your mouth! You have apparently done nothing but lie to me from the start! Everything you have ever said to me has been a lie, EVERYTHING!”

“NO Y/N!! I never lied to you, everything i ever said was true, every compliment, every i love you, everything was true, just please let me explain.”

“And what? I am meant to be grateful now?” You spit back.

“No, just please...”

you looked down at his desperate facial expression, you could see it in his eyes, sincerity, maybe you should just let him explain himself properly.”

“You have 5 minutes.” You huffed as you sank back down in to the sofa.

“Thank you.” He said, then silence engulfed the two of you, Where did he even begin?

“4 minutes left.” You stated.

“Right” He sighed deeply, “Well as you probably gathered from the phonecall, there has been...”

“No shit Sherlock” You snapped, you were beyond sad now, Shoto turning up and taking his sweet time had just made you mad, in fact it made you furious. He blinked back at your bluntness, he wasn’t used to you not being patient with him or swearing so much, he was taken aback. You had never snapped at him before. “Just get on with it Todoroki or I swear.”

That was it, hearing his family name slip from your lips instead of the usual Shoto made him snap, tears threatening to pour down his pink cheeks.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You snapped when you saw the tears. “You have absolutely no right to cry in front of me right now.”

“I can’t help it, hearing you call me by my surname feels like the final nail in the coffin.”

“If you don’t get on with it we’ll both be in coffins.” You muttered, “Now just tell me what you wanna say.”

“There has always been someone else that has also had my heart.” He said, wiping the tears away, “She shrouded my mind and for a while she was all i could think about, even after we met, I just couldn’t seem to get her off my mind, But the closer we got, the more she faded away, eventually I found myself barely thinking of her, and smiling around you a lot more. Just as a I found myself fully falling for you, she clawed her way back in to my life, and it was like she had never left, like I was under some kind of spell for her. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you, I really was falling hard for you, But I also kept finding myself in her embrace, I am sorry for what I have done, truly, because after tonight’s phone call, I saw you were gone and I just instantly knew, I felt it in my bones that you were the one I needed in my life, the one i wanted and desired the most. The panic that washed over me at the thought of you not being in my life, Imagining not waking up to you every morning, No more loving kisses, no more breakfasts together before going off to work, no more evening cuddles while a forgotten movie played in the background, I couldn’t not have you in my life, and i promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, If you could just find it in your heart to give me one last chance, Just come home with me and forget any of this ever happened, to please, just forgive me and let me hold you again.”

A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you cupped his face with your hands, he automatically leaned in to your touch, he looked in to your eyes and gave you a small smile, which you returned, and he closed his eyes in contentment....

“Is that it?” You sighed

His eyes snapped open as you let go of his face, staring straight in to your stoic eyes that gave nothing away. Emotionless.

“Di you really think something like that pathetic little speech was going to get me to come home and welcome you back with open arms, when our whole relationship was built on a rebound that you didn’t even get over? You want me to just up and forgive you after 3 years of deceit? You think its gonna be all sunshine and rainbows? No, I don’t trust you and you want to follow you home like a loyal puppy and play happy families and pretend like none of this happened!!”

You stop to catch your breath, standing and running your hands through your hair, A speechless Shoto sat staring at you as you continued with your rant.”

“What? Nothing to say? Did you not prepare for the possibility I wasn’t going to return to you, what like I am so lucky in life to be with the great Shoto Todoroki? Well, as it turns out, I am shit outta luck! And so are you!! Tough luck Todoroki! TOUGH FUCKING LUCK! This isn’t some sappy RomCom where you say a few nice things about me and I come running back to you, I’m not some pathetic lonely woman who thinks she will never find love again, who thinks she has nothing else in her life worth living for because some asshole cheated on her, I am not someone who has no other options because some lying cheating scumbag bastard strung her along for 3 years, NO! Not me, I have a life still to live, and I don’t need you in it. But I do want an answer, so give me one. Who is she?”

He stared open mouthed at your heavily breathing frame, Should he tell you? Would you kill her? What does he do now? Just as he was about to open his mouth the door opened and he suddenly didn’t have to say anything, In walked Camie, Bakugo’s long time girlfriend, and from the shock on her face and the look on Shoto’s as he stared at her presence, It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

“Sh... Todoroki... YLN.. what...what are you guys doing here so late?” She asked, a lump in her throat as she did.

You looked from her to Shoto, and you knew.

“It’s you...” You said, “Its been you all along..”

Camie just stands there like a dear in the headlights, her gaze flitting from you to Shoto, begging him with her eyes for an ounce of backup.

“ I....” Tears began to pour freely down her face.

“KATSUKI!!!” You screamed.

“NO! PLEASE!” She lunges towards you, grabbing your arm.

“What? and just let my best friend continue his life with an unfaithful whore?”

You yelled at her as Bakugo shot in from the kitchen, just in time to witness you thro Camie from your grasp on to the ground.

“Woah!!” He yelled, heading for Camie, but you stopped him, “ What the hell is going on here?”

“It’s her” you said calmly looking down at the girl, who was now her knees, crying at your feet. “It’s her who has been fucking Todoroki for almost my entire relationship with him!”

Bakugo just stared down at her, eyes wide, His gaze turned to Shoto, who was sat on the couch, his face in his hands as his shoulders shook from silently crying. Bakugo saw red. His head lowered, his teeth grinding together, His Palms crackling loudly around his balled up fists, He was about to step forward until he felt your hand on his shoulder.

“They are not worth it, either of them.”

He calmed down slightly at your words and touch and looked you in the eye, you smiled and he returned the smile.

“Just one question,” He stated boldly, looking down at Camie, “Di you ever love me? Or did you just choose me to get closer to this bastard?”

She looked up at him, her silence speaking volumes, That was all he needed.

“Get the fuck out, both of you.” He fumed

“But where am I meant to go?”

“Do it look like i give a shit about where you go, end up in a ditch for all I care, why don’t you go to lover boys house with him, Whore.”

“She is no longer welcome at my place.” Shoto said as he stood up heading for the door, not without giving you one last apologetic smile.

“Katsuki, please.” Camie begged holding on to the hem of his shirt from he place still on the floor.

“NO! You don’t get to call me that anymore, Now I aid, get out.”

He bent down grabbing her by the collar of her coat and literally throwing her out the door, Shot still stared at you sadly as the door was slammed in both thier faces. He had really fucked up, and he knew deep down there was nothing he do to fix it.

He stared longingly at the door, until Camie tried to grab his hand, that he snatched away.

“Don’t touch me, this is all your fault, I was just getting over you! I had found someone I could love, who I DID love, why did you haver to come back and ruin everything for me!? I am going home, don’t follow me.”

He storms off leaving her in the street alone to sort out her own situation, He was done with her, he wouldn’t let her ruin his life again.

Back in Bakugo’s house you slumped down on the sofa, your head on your hands, tears wanting to fall but you not quite letting them.

“He isn’t worth it.” Bakugo said in a calm voice, a hand around your back, drawing small circles along the small of it to calm you down. You look at him smiling and padding your eyes with your hands to stop the tears, “ You know I am right.” He smiles down at you.

“Yeah, you’re always right. Aren’t you?” You giggle back at him.

“You know it, sweetheart.” He laughs, “Now come one we should get some shut eye, we are both on patrol tomorrow. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Shit, Patrol. My hero uniform and everything is all at that hom... Todorokis place.”

“Don’t worry, make me a list and ill swing by in the morning for your uniform, you have bought the essentials right?”

You nod at him

“Right well I’ll get you some fresh sheets for the guest room, lets sleep.”

You yawned and followed him to the guest room and he got you the fresh sheets he promised and bid you a goodnight as he went to his room.

The next morning, Bakugo was true to his word and went to Shoto’s house to collect your hero uniform and a few other things as specified in the list he asked you to write for him. He arrived, ringing the doorbell and waiting for an answer. He eventually opened the door, he looked like shit.

“Bakugo.” He seethed

“Asshole.” Bakugo replied.

After they exchanged their greetings, Bakugo made his way inside, explaning you had sent him for the bits you needed.

“Is she okay?” Shoto asked sheepishly.

“You don’t get to know that.” Bakugo spat back as a reply.

“Come on Bakugo, at least let me know she is okay?”

“You threw away the right you had to know anything about her or her life.”

Shoto stared down at the blonde as he packed a few of your belongings into the bag he bought with him.

“Oh my god...” Shoto realized. “ You’re still in love with her aren’t you?”

“Always was, always will be.” Bakugo replied without missing a beat, he smiled up at the dual haired man, “ Your loss will be my gain.”

He zipped up the bag and stood besides Shoto. Shoto’s left side began to ignite a little out of jealousy and rage.

“Go ahead IcyHot, do your worst, I’ll just go home and have YN patch me up while i tell her what a monster you are.”

With that said, his flames extinguished, He didn’t want you to think he was a monster, even though it is what he deserved.

“Just treat her better than I ever did.” Shot said quietly.

“That won’t be difficult.”

That stung.

Bakugo stepped past Shoto, leaving him behind with just his thoughts and memories.

He made it back to his house, he entered only to be hit with the smell of bacon and eggs, a smile creeped on to his face, he could get used to this domestic life bullshit, coming home to a cooked meal everyday sounded great. He decided there and then that he wasn’t going to waste another second of his life with out you. He walked in to the kitchen gaining you attention.

“Hey Kats....” You were cut off by his lips slamming down on to yours, You were still for a few seconds while you figured out what ws happening, and then you melted in to his embrace as you returned the kiss, you felt his smile on your lips as the kiss deepened.

He begrudgingly broke the contact.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” He whispered against your lips that were still very close to his own, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Then show me, Suki.” You said as you returned you lips to his and kissed him with all the passion you had.

You were sure he has the lips of an Angel

===================================================

@marshmallow12435

There we go guys!! Part 2!!! I absolutely LOVED writing this story, so I hope you all enjoy it too. It deffo my new fave! Please like and follow I would be eternally grateful!!

#shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #angst #my hero academia #mha #shoto angst #katsuki fluff #lips of an angel #loved this #enjoy #my hero academia scenario #scenario #head canon #fiction #story #part 2

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too-lit-for-fanfic · 3 years

Text

A Traitor In Our Midst

PART III OF III

PART I

PART II

PART III

And it’s done! What a wait! And for that we are very sorry. For a long time we just couldn’t finish this closing chapter in a way that felt right or akin to the characters and their little story so it has undergone several re-writes. This final part isn’t as long as those previous, or as technical, but we hope you enjoy! There’s fluff, so hopefully that makes up for it! Thank you everyone who has supported this little series! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Summary: Cal Kestis x ex-Galactic Empire!OC, but can be treated like an x reader, ugly secrets from her past are resurfaced. In light of the truth Cal and crew no longer feel as if they can trust the newest member to the trio. Tempers flare, sacrifices are made, and the truth finally comes out.

Warnings: Torture is featured/referenced in this chapter so be warned. Angst, Blood, Violence, Swearing, Torture, Interrogation tactics, Emotional Manipulation, PTSD, Trauma

“...just to protect those who would never do the same for you?”

It had been two weeks since Aylin and BD had been trapped on the Star Destroyer, Cal and crew in the middle of negotiating with Saw Gerrera to organise a rescue mission, the stubborn man finally agreeing once it had been revealed BD had failed to return, the ship the duo had commandeered having been seized by the Empire. Cal, Cere and Greez huddled around the small monitor in the centre of the hull, deathly quiet as they listened to the conversation taking place between Second Sister and their former crewmate. On their rounds of the ship, BD had managed to return just in time to spot Trilla entering the prison cell, and now they waited anxiously, hidden under a series of shelves in the outward corridor. All three members of the crew looked positively sick, Cal in particular turning a ghastly pale as he held his breath, dreading the events to unfold.

“Oh isn't that just sweet.” Trilla’s shrill voice mocked lowly, eerily echoing down the corridor. “You really did care about them didn't you? Isn’t it a pity how they’ve left you here to die?”

“Fuck you.” Cal had to strain to hear Aylin’s response. She sounded weak, worryingly so, the venom in her words sounding as if it pained her to push it past her lips.

“You’re not denying it.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“That pretty red-head might have come to save you once, even I can tell you were very important to him-”

Cal involuntarily lurched at his mention, his muscles twitching so as to distance himself from the screen, an icy grip encasing his heart.

“Not anymore.”

Cal physically felt his heart whither in his chest, his knuckles turning white.

“Not anymore.” The sick woman almost sounded joyful. “All because you were born on the wrong side of the war. How ironic, an unforgiving Jedi.”

‘oh force...’ Cal withdrew, his heart plummeting to his stomach as the words echoed around his skull. Greez’s clawed hand landed on his elbow in comfort but the redhead payed him no mind. ‘please say something’ he silently begged, desperate to know that Aylin didn’t really think the same of him.

She never responded.

“I can’t watch this.” The red-head made an effort to move away from the screen, fully intent on hiding in the shadows of the cockpit. The entire conversation felt like a knife to his heart, and it only became worse when he realised anything could have been happening behind those closed doors, and he was powerless.

“And Cere, she wouldn’t even come to save me.” - A muffled ugly gasp - “Why are you protecting those who would sell you to the order for far less?”

Silence followed, and the trio held their breaths. A strangled cry abruptly cut-off, Cal very nearly almost throwing up as a strangled chocking gasp broke the silence, the sounds of boots scraping and struggling against a metallic surface drowning out the conversation.

A sickening thud.

Murmurs.

Screams.

Another bang.

“No- PLEASE!” Shrill blood-curdling screams assaulted their senses, Cal flinching away from the screen. The trio waited a moment, Cal’s hands covering his mouth, agape with horror - the begging screams didn’t stop.

“We have to do something!” Cal burst, a red hue overtaking his sickly complexion, flinching again at a particularly desperate yell.

“What do you suppose?” Cere bit back harshly, the stress and helplessness of the situation fraying all of their nerves.

“Something! - Anything!” Cal racked his brain for a solution, the echoing screams resonating from the monitor throwing his thoughts into a frenzy. “We need to get Trilla out of the room. We need to get her away from her!”

“And how are we-”

“BD!” Cal lurches towards the screen, shaking hands frantically typing a message to the small BD-unit. “If we can just get her into the main hull of the ship, it would be perfectly reasonable for the trooper who requested her presence to have moved to a different location in the ship.”

“Cal, think about this-”

His hand hovers over the ‘enter’ button on the holopad. His wide bloodshot eyes searing a hole directly into Cere’s skull.

“What is there to think about?” As if on queue, another scream wafted through the monitor. That solidified his resolve, hitting the key before Cere or Greez could even blink, BD immediately setting into motion.

The cell doors opened with a resounding hiss as BD finished inputting the code, the little droid rolling to the side to enter the cell. The sight that greeted the crew was worse than they could have possibly imagined. The young woman strapped to the table in the centre of the room resembled a corpse more so than the confident and head-strong blonde that had departed from their ship only two weeks prior. Her imperial jacket barely hung to her beaten and bloodied frame, the torn and tattered fabric had been roughly tugged from her torso, wound into a crumpled heap around her waist and elbows, bony shoulders jutting up through the ruins of a once white tank top, now stained crimson. With every breath her ribcage shuddered, ribs pressing against her beaten and sullied skin, protruding almost painfully with every twist and struggle, skin taught. Any part of her not covered in crimson was mottled in varying shades of black and purple, the angry discolouration winding around her ribs and disappearing behind the remnants of her undershirt.

Cal felt positively sick. Anger bloomed in his chest as despair gnawed at his stomach, bloodshot eyes transfixed on the image before him, the sound of blood rushing through his ears, and Aylin’s screams echoing through his mind drowning out the conversation taking place. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the table ledge with all the might his exhausted muscles would allow, his breath clogging his throat and chest as he forgets himself, his one and only concern the one person in the entire galaxy who he couldn't reach.

Trilla hovers over her diminished frame, elbow harshly dug into the blonde’s exposed ribs, gloved hand wrapped languidly around a blade buried to its hilt, fresh crimson pooling along Aylin’s collarbone, spilling onto the table and then onto the cement floor, glistening sickeningly in the overhead lighting. Noteful of BD’s presence, his frantic panicked beeps finally reaching her ears amongst the screams, Trilla leans back, still leant heavily on Aylin as her cold amber gaze lands on the small BB unit, anger and frustration etched across her face. A sickening thud echoes around the metallic room as the blonde’s head falls back pathetically, unaware of the cause of the interruption. She looked barely conscious, beginning to dance across the line of life to death, who’s arms were already open and willing to hold her in their cold embrace.

With all the languidity of a senator, Trilla leisurely pulls the blade from Aylin’s exposed shoulder, leisurely wiping the blood covered blade on her tattered jacket, a cruel smile adorning her features all the while. Aylin barely moves, eyes half lidded and body slack, the only indication of life the erratic yet shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Her head tilts to expose more of her hollowed features, Cal’s horrified gaze locking onto her own, the breath he had been holding escaping his lungs and his shoulders falling with the guilt that clawed its way up from his stomach, a tangible trepidation reverberating throughout the force. What little fat she had possessed had surely withered away, her cheekbones appearing almost sharp underneath her taught and sunken complexion, ivory skin now pale and shining a ghastly yellow under the blaring overhead lights, a stark contrast to the maroon-dried blood coating her temple and jaw. Her bloodshot and sunken eyes blearily gaze towards the ceiling, no sign of the life that had once illuminated their honeyed depths, the life that had spilled from her being in abundance no longer to be found.

Cal’s focus finally turns back to the conversation at hand, breaths shallow, BD beckoned from the room with an indignant “Droid.”, the tall figure of the second sister glowering at them from the entrance of the cell, evidently annoyed at the intrusion. With one final glance BD reluctantly turns to leave the room, following the second sister dutifully in their search for the non-existent trooper in the main hanger.

Cal collapses onto a sofa across the room from the monitor, the horrific image of Aylin strapped to a metal table, looking closer to death than life, and drenched in her own blood, permanently burnt into his retinas. A sight to haunt him for a lifetime.

“Fuck Saw, we’re getting them both, tomorrow.”

----------

With little convincing Greez had quickly succumbed to Cal’s persuasion, the two men - after much deliberation and heated debate - had also successfully convinced Cere of their plan. Truthfully, Cal had been conjuring ways to coordination a rescue ever since Aylin and BD had been captured on the Star Dreadnaught, and as he prepared for the events of the day, no doubt entered his mind that their two companions would be with the crew by the end of the day. Companion - Cal almost scoffed to himself - the two were far more than that: BD, in many ways, had become a best friend to Cal in the past few years, the companionable little droid with a taste for adventure never failing to offer a sense of comfort and joy, even in some of Cal’s darkest times, in many ways resembling a younger sibling Cal had never before had the pleasure of having. Aylin, on the other hand, in the time the pair had known one another, had somehow wormed her way into the isolated Jedi’s heart, always offering her support in his times of need, encouraging him with his training through her self-proclaimed ‘tough-love’, becoming a source of confident resolve and rationality - a sense of stability in the ever changing galaxy.

Cal remembered their many nights spent on some unknown planet, the pair sat beneath the many stars and moons of the galaxy, sharing tales long into the night. Cal had never had a relationship with anyone like the relationship he had formed with the stubborn blonde: heatedly sparring before patching one another’s wounds from the scuffle; longing glances spared with every tranquil moment, hidden behind excuses of exhaustion or a poorly constructed insult; grins and soft smiles shared over meal time or upon their own hidden adventures exploring new planets; a hand reaching out for the others in a busied market or times of comfort; an eye searching for the other in a crowded room; simply basking in one another's presence in the quiet hours of the morning, relishing every moment where they could just be. Cal knew he was a fool, a disgrace to the Jedi code he had spent his entire youth obeying like a holy script, he knew he was a fool the first time the enigmatic blonde had saved his life in her third month of joining the crew, standing over his tired and weary frame with a cocky smirk and a calloused hand outstretched, making some smart-arsed comment as she hauled him to his feet.

Attachments were forbidden, Jedi were trained from birth to let go of everything they were afraid to lose. And Cal? He was terrified to lose her - he had already broken his sacred vows, he had become attached, and he would be damned before he sacrificed one of the only things he was afraid to lose. He would never be a Jedi, yet perhaps that was okay, perhaps there was something more to this world that he had only realised upon stumbling across the Mantis and her crew.

He had never been that dutiful of a Padawan anyway.

The point seemed ever more poignant as his cerulean eyes stared conflictingly at the reflection in his mirror. No longer did he adorn the trusty combat trousers, baggy shirt, chest brace, not even his trusting poncho that seemed to make up his daily attire. Instead, a version of himself he had spent endless nights battling against stared back at him, the ironed and pressed midnight coloured uniform clinging to his lean frame. After a pit stop or two he had successfully acquired a knock-off Imperial General’s uniform, a notable fake with the lack of an aura emitting from the otherwise haunting apparel. Tugging harshly at the collar that bit into the skin of his neck, a habit he had seen Aylin recount numerous times in her preparation for the mission, his tired eyes trail over his figure, hoping to all of the stars and force wielders in the galaxy that his Master couldn’t see him now.

He clears his throat to relieve some of the tightness that had gathered in his chest before he leaves his sleeping quarters, rolling his stiff shoulders as he makes his way into the main hull, lightsaber already hidden beneath his newly acquired jacket.

“So,” The red-head steps before Greez and Cere - already equipped in her own better-fitting storm trooper armour - who had been typing away to BD on the small holopad in the main hull. “How do I look?”

The pair glance up at the young man, Greez’s beady little eyes widening considerably, a good natured grin enveloping his face.

“Kid-” Humour laced his tone, his dark eyes taking in the sight before him. “Let’s just hope you won’t be on that ship for too long.” In comparison to how Aylin’s uniform had fit her frame, Cal’s uniform may have well as swamped him, the thick fabric creasing at his waist, his belt fastened at the smallest capacity and yet somehow still too big, sitting notably lower on his waist than it should have, polished and barely scuffed boots a size too large, the one thing that actually fit being the pair of leather gloves over his shaking hands.

Everything just seemed slightly wrong, just a little bit askew, just a little bit... fake.

By all respects, Cal had certainly gone to the effort of impersonating an Imperial soldier, skin scrubbed clean of the dirt and grime of the galaxy, hair slicked back under a hat slightly too large for his head, he had even cracked into Aylin’s limited makeup supply and attempted to conceal the many scars he had gained through his years, as well as the stress-induced darkening bags under his eyes. The Empire wasn't him, and it was painfully obvious to all who spared him a second glance.

“Say all you want, old man.” Cal jibes light heatedly, beginning to head towards the cockpit. “Have you forgotten your own disguise?” The redhead sends a pointed look in the direction of the shell of a modified astromech droid, the humour in Greez’s eyes quickly dying as his gaze lands on his ingenious costume.

“If I have to come and rescue you all in that thing.” Greez stares uneasily at his heavy, small costume. “You owe me a spa day.”

----------

After commandeering a small transport shuttle from a neighbouring planet with a rather small Imperial presence, Cal and Cere bid farewell to Greez, who was to remain with the Mantis and communicate with them through BD and the data pad.

“Be careful.” Cere warns, arms wrapped around herself as she watches Greez fiddle with some mechanisms on the inside of the ship with dull eyes. “We won’t be able to come and rescue you if you get caught.”

He waves her concern off with dismissal.

Cal appears next to her, materialising from the bowls of the Mantis, smoothing his jacket out once again. The older woman turns to the young man, barely out of adolescence, and feels the corners of her mouth tug down. This could go wrong, this could go horribly, horrendously, atrociously wrong, and with Cal’s loosening grip on his emotions, his anxiety rolling from him in waves through the force, chances of failure were ever high. Cal was only young, having grown up during some of the darkest known times of the galaxy, his future destroyed by a war begun before his birth, and now he was to be thrust into the heart of the conflict, into the home of those responsible for all of his suffering. Cal was a victim, just like all those who had lived during the raising of the Empire, his body and mind more marred and scarred than most, but he was a survivor, scorning and mocking the Empire with every day lived. Cere hoped he continued to be a survivor, one of the few specks of light in an ever darkening galaxy, yet this rescue mission threatened to snuff his light out for good.

Her mind wondered at the cause of the young man’s anxiety as she watched his hands tremble as he straightened his leather belt, surveying the pasty sheen of his skin and the poorly-concealed bags under his flitting eyes. As harsh as she had been on Aylin when her past had been revealed, it was undeniable that the two women had held a close bond, and secretly, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself, Cere had missed the girl terribly, her own guilty conscious gnawing away at the edges of her conscious whenever she tried to rest. Last night had been particularly bad after the events that she had witnessed unfold on the small data pad yesterday afternoon, the image of her companion, beaten and bloody, a mere fragment of how she remembered the blonde girl on her departure. The image haunted her whenever her eyes had finally agreed to close - as obviously was the case with the redhead stood next to her, exhaustion palpable on his features underneath the mounting anxiety and adrenaline - the added guilt, knowing similar treatment would have faced Trilla due to her own selfishness, depriving her mind of rest, gnawing at her innards and haunting every fibre of her being.

She hoped desperately for her crew to return, all of them safe, once again, in their home, the Mantis.

“Cal,” She turns to the tall red-head, hands gripping her arms more firmly, “I know what your goal is, I know how badly you want to bring her home.” The red-head watches her with steady eyes, shoulders raising in defence. “I want them home too, but- but please remember yourself. I can’t loose all of you.”

The sounds of the local wildlife and fauna fill the steady silence as Cal mulled over her words, hand running over the saber tucked into his side.

“Don’t worry Cere,” Cal begins heading down the ramp, taking long purposeful strides towards the Imperial ship, Cere’s more tentative steps following in his wake. “I’m going to make it back, and I’m bringing everyone with me.”

Cal didn’t know where the certainty had come from, his voice didn’t waver and his steps didn’t falter. He would do this. He would bring his two best friends back home, and one day he would make the Empire pay.

----------

“We’re here.” Cere slips out of the pilot seat, allowing for Cal to take her place, grasping her blaster in a vice-like grip as she sits stiffly towards the back of the shuttle. She watches as Cal heads to the front of the ship, manning the controls for their landing, frown deepening behind her helmet as the star destroyer encroaches, fear clawing at her throat with every memory resurfaced from the devastation following Order 66.

“We head out the Western exit of the docking bay when we land.” Cal rattles off, flipping some switches as their small vessel is pulled towards the star destroyer. “BD should meet us somewhere in one of the closest corridors and we follow them to the cell, remember to stay behind me, if you don’t they’ll know something’s wrong straight away.”

Cere watches as Cal’s grip tightens around the steering controls, leather gloves straining taught over his knuckles, a muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes stare unblinking towards the star destroyer.

“Are you ready?” Her voice is stern - shocking her with how it echoes back to her within the suffocating helmet - echoing around the small hull, yet Cal nearly doesn’t hear her, distracted with the storm brewing in his mind, consumed by a rising tidal wave of anxiety, determination and fear.

His eyes finally dart away from the destroyer, turning to glance at his companion over his shoulder, his blue irises red-rimmed and owlish in the overhead lights. The uncanny figure of a storm-trooper greats him, black visor reflecting his own distorted expression back to him from an impenetrable mask of white.

He nods lightly, determination sparking in his weary eyes, the collar of his jacket rubbing uncomfortably against his nape. There was no going back now, he couldn't go back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

----------

Cal squints as he exist the transport shuttle, the overbearing overhead lights bearing down on his frigid frame, the jelled hair peaking form underneath his hat shining with every tilt of his head. The first foot fall on the metal floor seems to resonate throughout the entire hanger, vibrations wracking the bones in his leg, tremors coursing throughout his body and echoing in his ears as several troopers’ heads turn towards the new arrival. His breath catches in his throat and the courage in his stomach withers as he takes another feigned purposeful stride away from the comfort and security of the shuttle, and in towards those waging a war on the galaxy. With every feigned purposeful step shockwaves scatter throughout his tense body, the tension in the air threatening to suffocate him, his heart hammering restlessly against his ribcage and lungs struggling for breath as if he had just ran through the last twelve parsecs. His cerulean eyes lock on his exit from the hanger, offering him a brief solace from the white masks that consumed every corner of his vision, Cere’s steady footsteps behind him offering a further sense of comfort.

By the time the pair finally exit the hanger Cal can practically feel the sweat that had broken out across his body, swiping his forehead to rid of any precipitation that had gathered. His shoulders and spine ached with the effort he had put into maintaining his posture - much in the way he had watched Aylin enter the hanger only several weeks prior - and he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath. Although on the outside he may have appeared like ay other Imperial General, cold, unpleasant, perhaps even bored or apathetic to all events that seemed to have been happening around him, inside he had never felt so rattled, his mind a muddled mess, his blood coursing with fear and anxiety which only seemed to mount with every passing second. The panic within thinly veiled with calculated disgust.

Almost as soon as Cal and Cere enter an adjacent corridor to the main hanger, BD comes scuttling around the corner, the pair not recognising the droid in its new round body - Cere’s gloved fingers wrapping dangerously around the hilt of her blaster - until its excited little beeps reach their ears.

“Buddy!” Cal’s facade cracks, grinning down at the little droid as he fights the urge to reach down and give them a hug, worried incase someone should see. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

The little droid, on the other hand, is positively ecstatic, practically vibrating on the spot in both glee at being rescued and frustration that they couldn’t jump straight into Cal’s arms. Truth be told BD had deeply missed their old body during their time stranded on the Dreadnaught. Not waisting any time the little droid rolls behind Cal’s trouser clad legs, ramming into his calves in an attempt to nudge him in the direction of Aylin’s cell and whirring heatedly.

“I know, I know.” Cal steps forward, resolute stature returning to his pale features as he prepares to round another corner. “We’re all going home.”

----------

Within minutes that felt like an eternity the three rebels found themselves amongst the holding cells, BD finally taking the lead to guide them to Aylin’s cell, his happy chirps long silenced as the three grew nearer, all three dreading the sight to await them. Much like when they first arrived, Cal felt suffocated by the pristine atmosphere that seemed to cling to his clothes and hair, dirtying his skin and clogging his throat. It felt fake... the whites and slanted greys, the cleanliness and order, the peace and harmony. The presented image of purity and order, worked into the very steel framework itself, felt so wrong and dirty with the suffering taking place throughout the galaxy at the hands of those that inhabited the ship. Cal could feel the misery and terror that emanated from the dreadnaught itself, seeping into him through the walls and floors, mixed into a terrible concoction with the pride and honour from the officials that walked those very corridors.

It was beloathed, and yet prideful.

Uncomfortably, it reminded him of Aylin.

The red-head tugged at the collar of his jacket as BD came to an abrupt halt at a large durasteel cell door, his mind thrust back to the present. His breath catches in his throat as BD scuttles forward to open the cell door, gloved hand wrapping around the hidden saber at his hip, listening for any approaching footsteps down the corridor. Truthfully, he felt a nervous wreck, the beads of sweat forming along his brow and his greying pallor more so linked to his worry for Aylin than anything else. He could fight if they were caught, and chances are, with both himself and Cere combined, they could easily commandeer an escape shuttle, but he wasn’t certain if he could recover Aylin from the state he had seen her in on the small holopad. At the very moment he couldn’t be sure, and a part of him, a cowardly disdainful part of his conscience, feared opening the cell door to confirm his worry, feared being faced with the broken shell of a woman he couldn’t save. Another person he had failed, a person who had saved him more times than he could count.

Perhaps it was love - his worry at knowing the truth, his fear of seeing the situation first-hand. Cal was ashamed to think such a way.

The cell door hisses open, cool air caressing his feverish skin as he steps through the threshold, the overpowering scent of antiseptic hitting him full force, yet the familiar metallic stench of blood followed. His breath remains in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Bright eyes widening as they flit about the empty room, landing uneasily on Aylin’s still figure. Cal holds his breath, silently begging her to move, for her head to tilt in his direction, for her closed eyes to open, begging her to do anything at all.

“Aylin?” The word echoes around the room, Cal’s voice shaky and cracking around the word, his mouth parched like the deserts of Tatooine. Somehow his palms become even more clammy, and he tosses his gloves to the side without a second thought, small crescents visible in the palms of his hands from how he had clenched them on their short journey. He takes a small step closer.

She doesn’t move.

Cere watches him carefully from behind her helmet as he calls Aylin’s name again and steps further into the room, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. BD, clearly unsure of what to do, hovers around Cere’s ankles, little camera flickering between Cal and Aylin, a barely audible humming even sting from the little droid. She turns to the closed cell door, blaster gripped tightly to her chest, wary of an intrusion.

Things had barely changed from the last time Cal had seen the room through BD’s holopad projection and he was thankful to note that it didn’t look as if Aylin had sustained any more injuries from the day prior, however, that was hard to determine with the crimson that coated her body, undoubtedly hiding wounds from view. Cal stops next to the metal table, peering down at her sullen features, her sunken maroon-bagged eyes closed to the world, chapped lips barely parted. The holopad had failed to pick up many of the finer details, and Cal was horrified to see the blossoms of purple and magenta that littered her face and neck, a particularly worrisome lashing of purple winding around her throat - Cal noting with disgust it’s resemblance to a handprint. Her blonde hair appeared dull and lifeless, slicked back from her face and coated in sweat and blood, a small lesion at her temple and brow trickling into her hairline, pooling in the rivets of her angular features. Blood - darker, older - had been smeared across her cheeks and jaw, cracking along the lines of her face and flaking from her skin, leaving it stained red underneath.

“What did they do to you?” Cal questions softly, not expecting an answer. Gingerly he places his hand on her shoulder, careful to avoid any hidden wounds.

His heart almost lurches from his chest when she flinches from his touch.

“Aylin!” He almost cheers, glee coating his voice as he leans closer, a smile cracking his features. Slowly, weakly, her eyes flutter open, familiar hazel eyes squinting up at him through all the blood and gore. She looked exhausted, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, her left eye only partially open. “Aylin, oh my force, it’s me. It’s Cal.” Lost in his own elation Cal fails to spot the weariness to her features, nor the way her gaze turns to the ceiling, vacant and unseeing. He reaches for the cuff around her wrist, but her hand jerks away from his touch. He pauses, forehead creasing. “Aylin, come on, its me, and Cere, we’re getting you home.”

Her eyes flicker to his for the briefest of moments, brightened under the harsh lighting. “Trilla,” Her voice is hoarse and weak, a husky whisper of what it once was, lined with guilt and exhaustion. She tilts her head away from the red-heads confused gaze, something awful gnawing at her stomach. “leave me alone.”

Silence consumes the room, Cal’s gaze landing on Cere who simply shrugs her shoulders in response. He reaches for her again, swiping a strand of hair from her face, hand retreating just as quickly when her eyes snap open in alarm.

“Aylin, its me, come on-”

“You’re not here.” She was trying to convince herself, not daring to allow her hopes to rise. She was in pain, she was beyond exhausted, and she was dangerously close to giving up, hoping for death as some sort of escape. “You’re not real.” She glances down to his hand that rests against her exposed forearm, mind barely registering the warm pads of his fingers pressing against her pulse. “Trilla, we’ve done this before. You’re a cruel woman.”

She glances away as pity overtakes his features, staring blankly at the ceiling, body slack against the tabletop. ‘We’ve done this before.’ Had Trilla done this before? How many times had versions of himself and the crew attempted to rescue her? How guarded had she had to be, not even trusting her own dreams for fear of revealing what she had tried to keep from those who sought to harm them. He was furious - the anger that had lapped up his throat all week rising like a tidal wave - and he would make them pay, but first he had to get everyone back.

“No, no, it’s us, it’s me. I promise it’s me.” He tries, attempting to scrub the makeup from his face, scars glossy under the harsh white light. He catches BD out of the corner of his eye. “Look!- We’ve got BD, we’re all going home.”

Finally she picks her head up, wincing at the effort. Her wide eyes land on the little droid across the room, mouth agape as the air leaves her lungs and her shoulder slump. Terror and disappointment gnaw away at her conscience, the familiar feeling of helplessness returning full force. “They found BD.” She mutters to herself, defeats palpable in her voice as she allows her head to fall back against the table, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

Cal, in a stressed panic, and unsure of what to do, reaches out through the force, attempting to project his memories, something no one else could possess. But, as he pressed forward a force stops him in his tracks, Aylin’s body tensing at a presence surrounding her mind. “I can show you, just let me- let me in.”

“No! No, no, no-” Cal had never seen so much fear in her eyes, and he withdraws, hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I won’t, I won’t.” He quickly retreats as her panic rises, cuffs clanking against the table as she feebly squirms, force signature returning to his own aura, yet outstretched and welcoming, more than willing for Aylin to make the first move. He wracks his tired and frantic brain for a solution, her panic feeding into his own, not expecting her to have such doubts. They needed to be quick, he knew, but there was no way they could coax her out of the room in the state she was in. “I know you. I know things about you the Empire- that Trilla would never know. Do you remember that time on Hoth when I ripped a glove and almost caught frostbite, I’ve only still got ten fingers because you managed to skin that little creature. What about that time I accidentally singed some of your hair off with my saber when I tried to use it as a torch, I had to pay for you’re haircut afterwards and you got the most expensive treatment just to prove a point. I know you have two sugars in your tea but only every other day; I know you always insist on playing with your knives no matter how many times I ask you to stop; I know that you’re favourite game to play is blackjack because you can count cards and know how to cheat, like that time you scammed me for half a brownie.” He was getting emotional now, the stress and turmoil of the past few days causing unshed tears to gather, his knuckles turning white as he wrings his hands together. “I promise you it’s me.”

They’re in you head. Her conscience echoes, the blonde fighting back tears at her own failure. They know, they know everything. Trilla’s playing, she’s already got what she wants.

“You can’t be here.” He voice cracks and wavers, throat scratchy from misuse, her mounting emotions not helping. She wished he was here, with every fibre of her being she wished Cal actually stood before her, frown on his face and eyebrows knitted together in concern. It couldn’t be true. If he was truly here she might’ve cried, and if this was all another elaborate hallucination created by Trilla then she’d probably cry even harder. She so desperately wanted to go home.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to believe me, you don’t have to do anything.” Cal reaches again for the cuffs binding her hands to the table, one hand reaching for the saber at his hip. “But please let me help you.”

She doesn’t say anything as his hand wraps around her thin wrist, saber igniting and casting blue light across the room. Within seconds both cuffs are cut from her wrist, falling against the table with a thud. She rubs her wrists gingerly, wincing at the cuts she has sustained during her stay. Grasping her forearm in a delicate grip, other hand sliding behind her shoulder blade, Cal eases her up, wincing at every gasp that leaves her lips. A jaw in his muscle ticks with every sound from her mouth, pity and fury blooming in his chest.

“Agh-” She grimaces at the pain enveloping her side, ribs protesting against the movement, healing wounds reopening with every twist of her muscle.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Cal urges her on, arm sliding underneath her legs and behind her back, drawing her to his chest as he rises to his full height. Aylin’s head lolls against his shoulder, scared to hope any of this was real but revelling in the familiar warm comfort seeping from the redheads chest.

With a nod shared between `Cal and Cere they depart, deadly silent as they leave the cell, not a trace of their presence left behind. Cal glances down at the woman in his arms, beyond grateful to have her back within arms reach, satisfied with the knowledge no one would be able to harm her now. He had her and he wasn’t letting go.

Cere freezes in front of him, BD rolling into the back of her legs, and Cal’s heart stops in his chest. She urges him back, but as they’re retreating two troops round the corner, halting in surprise. Both troops helmets slowly turn towards the blonde nestled in Cal’s arms, and their blasters raise, shouting commands. Cal ducks as Cere fires, shielding Aylin as well as he could, BD taking refuge behind Cere’s legs.

Within moments the corridor plunges into silence again, two dead troops lain before the four rebels. Cere glances back to Cal, charging her blaster.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down.” And she runs, sprinting in the direction of the escape shuttles - just to the left of the hanger - with BD trailing behind, Cal sprinting to keep up. Rounding another corner he almost crashes into Cere who doubles back, the pair just managing to dodge out of the way of oncoming blaster fire as they disappear around another corner, the slap of their boots against the metal floor drowned out by the shouts of troops on their tail.

“We’re not far.’ Cere calls, throwing her helmet to the side as she gaps for breath, Cal only a few paces behind her. The pair, plus BD, emerge in a small hanger, smaller, more compact escape shuttles lined on either wall, a squad of five stormtroopers ready and waiting.

Cal’s eyes widen as he watches all five troops raise their weapons, heart plummeting to his stomach. There was nothing he could do, he just hoped they granted them death instead of subjecting them to the fate Aylin had been forced to endure. Cere reaches back deftly and grasps his saber from his belt, igniting the blade mere moments before the first blaster fires. She works in a blur, deflecting shot after shot, blue light cast across her features as she steps closer to the enemy, Cal and BD close behind. It wasn’t often the redhead was able to see Cere in combat, usually taking missions with the girl in his arms, and the skill she displayed, surely a product of the wisdom she had amassed over her years, was awe-inspiring. Every movement is precise, each twist and flick of her wrist purposeful, the weight of the saber in her hand appearing little more than a feather with the ease she displays. She deflects and a troop falls, killed by their own shot.

Slowly but surely the trio make their way towards the closest shuttle, Cal and BD baking away into the ship whilst Cere remains on the defensive, deflecting shot after shot, a bead of sweat running from her brow. Cal places Aylin down on a small cot in the corner of the cramped shuttle, instructing BD to stay behind whilst he collects Cere, running to the boarding ramp, the sounds of blaster shots once again reaching his ears.

“Cere!” He shouts, hanging out of the shuttles door, unable to do much without a weapon. “Cere!”

The older woman retreats slowly, continuing to deflect as she backs up the ramp, the red-head scuttling to the front of the shuttle and switching the engines on, awaiting the sound of the door hissing shut before doing anything drastic.

“Go!” Cere calls and he immediately sets into action, flicking a switch to his right and grasping the steering in both hands, sighing in relief as the shuttle lifts from the floor, paying no mind to the blaster shots that ricocheted off the steelwork around him. Cere appears, clambering into the co-pilots seat, saber grasped tightly in her hand as the ship lurches forward, charging full speed out of the small hanger, Cal frantically inputting the necessary codes for hyperspace, hands flitting about the dashboard in a blur.

With one final lurch the shuttle departs, the red head sighing and collapsing back into the pilots seat, chest rising and falling as he revels in the safety of hyperspace, stars dancing across his vision and illuminating his weary features, the stresses of the day lifting from his shoulders as he watches galaxies stream past. But the day was far from over, and in moments he’s clambering out of his seat, mind once again consumed by the blonde that hadn’t left his thoughts for an eternity.

Leaving Cere in control of their heading Cal retreats into the cramped hull, making a beeline for the blonde huddled atop a thin casket, BD dutifully waiting by her side, camera trained on her intensely, and rolling anxiously from side to side. Cere stares after him, wanting to offer her services, but ultimately deciding to remain in the cockpit, radioing Greez back on the Mantis, knowing that the redhead needed some time with Aylin, alone.

“I’m back.” Cal announces, sitting on the edge of the small cot, dropping a small medkit onto his lap the he had found in a compartment. His eyes land on the blonde’s pale face, eyes softening at the worry etched across her features, eyebrows knitted together in both pain and concern. He opens his mouth to speak, protruding a set of stims from the cluttered medkit. “I’m going to patch you up and then we’re going home. You’re safe, Trilla can’t get to you anymore.”

Aylin hums, head tilting to the side as she finally makes eye contact with the red head, looking as if she was only truly seeing him for the first time. Her eyes widen and her chapped lips part, a shaking hand reaching out to rest against his own, testing her own reality. Cal smiles softly as she watches him with curious eyes, shallow breaths parting her lips.

“Cal?”

“Yes,” his voice breaks as she finally looks at him, truly looks at him, hazel eyes brightening with every second, fighting back against heavy lids. “yes it’s Cal. We’re going home.”

A small smile fights its way onto her lips, although the joyous moment is broken abruptly, the smile quickly twisting into a grimace as her body finally begins to acknowledge the trauma it had endured, old and new wounds reopened in the frenzy to escape. Her eyes flicker, hand beginning to feel slack against his own. Cal pales, hurriedly uncapping the stim in his grasp.

“You stay awake, you hear?” He jabs the stim into her bicep, preparing the other one in his grasp. He had her, he couldn’t lose her now.

“It hurts.” Her voice is strained, a pathetic replica of her true nature.

“I know, I know it does. I’m going to make it stop, I just need you to stay here, stay with me.” Her eyes flutter again, and Cal is grasping at straws, digging through the medkit for something, anything that could work. The stims hadn't worked as he hoped and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Hey- hey! You keep those eyes open. Don’t you dare-” Fear grips him like a vice. His blood running cold as he leans closer, both hands grasping her shoulders, uncaring for the blood that caked them. He felt helpless, utterly, hopelessly helpless. It had been bad when he had been forced to endure being trapped behind a screen, but oh, this was so much worse. She was right here, he could touch her, talk to her, feel her weak heart beating underneath his very own fingertips, and yet he couldn't do anything. “Look at me. Look. At. Me. I want to see your eyes. Come on.”

Try as she might, her body was beginning to fail and with every passing moment the darkness that had clouded her peripheral for the past few days encroached, the lights in the hull dimming and dimming, until all she could see was Cal’s hazy face staring down at her, his hands clasping either side of her face. “Please.” She couldn’t, her walls finally falling and mind succumbing to the rest it so desperately needed.

“Cere-!”

He sounded desperate. He sounded scared. And for the briefest of moments, Aylin felt guilty.

And then the darkness consumed her.

----------

Cal drifts in and out of sleep, dozing comfortably with his head propped atop a familiar cot in a familiar ship, hand delicately grasping another's with his legs curled under the old chair he had stolen, the hazy figure of Aylin comforting him in his peripheral. It had been a few hours since himself, Cere and BD had returned to the Mantis, patching up Aylin to the best of their ability before tucking her away in her room, on course to the rebel base in order to take up Saw’s offer of medical assistance once word had reached him of their rescue mission. Although Cal had arrived back to the Mantis full of energy, spurred on by his panic and worry for the girl who had practically collapsed in his arms, the hours and hours of stress had worn him down, the young red-head finally agreeing to catch some rest, but refusing to allow Aylin to leave his sight.

In his half-conscious state, he fails to notice the way the blonde’s lips twitch and eyelids flutter, barely registering the way her fingers flex against his own as the darkness finally releases her, mind and body returning. Aylin stirs quietly, every muscle and joint aching, the soft fabric against her skin a welcome change from the metal table she had called home for force-knows how long. With every passing second her mind returns, cogs turning as the days events come back to her full force, the sight of Cal’s worried gaze seared into the back of her eyelids, her lips parting in a gasp and her body lurching up out of slumber. Her eyes snap open, crazed and panicked as they dart around the dimly lit room, a groan parting her lips as her ribs protest, the gaping wound at her side, now haphazardly wound in fresh bandages, protesting heavily agains the sudden movement.

Cal is startled awake, almost falling from his chair at Aylin’s abrupt movement hazy eyes fighting for clarity amongst his foggy thoughts. “Hey,” He mutters groggily, mind desperately fighting against the sleep that had consumed him only moment before, hands reaching out to grab Aylin’s shoulders. “hey, hey, hey. It’s me, Aylin it’s me.” Finally, the frantic woman’s eyes meet his own, her body relaxing into his touch as he gently guides her back down, the pads of his fingers digging into the exposed flesh of her shoulders. “It’s alright, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” She takes in a shuddering breath as Cal gently sweeps her messy bangs from her eyes, palm resting against her forehead a moment too long, simply savouring that she was here, she was back, she was safe.

Cal sits back in his chair once he makes sure she was okay and settled, fretting like a mother and readjusting her pillows and pulling the thin sheets back up to her chest, fingers smoothing out the white tank top she had been changed into. His cerulean eyes, still slightly blurry with sleep, never leave her figure.

“What happened?” Her voice was quiet, a mere murmer whisked away on the wind. She runs a hand along the bandages freshly wrapped around her shoulder, noting the wraps of gauze around each of her wrists.

“We got you. Cere and I, we went and got you. You were pretty beat up.” His voice cracks and he quickly clears his throat. Aylin pays it no mind, wide owlish eyes staring at him from underneath a pair of heavy lids. “We’ve fixed you up the best we could, Saw’s offered some rebel facilities if we need them.” The small room plunges into silence, neither of them glancing away, Cal’s thumb unknowingly rubbing circles into the back of Aylin’s hand. As an after thought he adds. “We’re at the other end of the galaxy, there’s no way they can find us here. You’re safe, you can get some rest.”

As if she had suddenly remembered, Aylin reveals her force signature, the walls that she had held around her mind - and that she had habitually rebuilt when she awakened - coming crumbling down. Cal watches her shoulders visibly relax as the final remnants of tension leave her body, allowing his own force signature to branch out, enticed yet apprehensive of the new presence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She mutters, eyes falling from his gaze.

“I get it.” He smiles softly, thumb continuing to run soothing circles on the back of her hand. As much as he may have been hurt that she hadn’t told him, he couldn’t deny that he understood why, the events of the last two weeks evidence enough of the consequences. “We can talk about it later, you need some rest.”

Silence envelopes the room, the pair simply content with one another's presence. Cal rests his head on the palm of his hand, eyes beginning to close once again, happy that they had a second chance. Undoubtedly the pair had much to talk about, the crew had to figure out how to move forward, but at least they had that chance. For a long time Cal had feared he would never get that chance and now that he had it, he was not going to let it go to waste.

Things weren’t perfect, not by any stretch of the word, but the universe had given them the opportunity to try and make things right.

Suddenly, Aylin stirs again, wincing as she attempts to sit up, eyes wide and unblinking as they flit about the room. Cal’s hands shoot out again to stop her. “Where’s BD?” The urgency to her voice was hard to miss, resembling its older self. “Is he alright? Did you find him? I saw-”

“It’s okay, we’re all back. BD’ll be over the moon to know you’re awake, they’ve been peaking into your room every chance they get.” Cal coaxes her back down, more concerned with her reopening any of the wounds the crew had spent a painstaking amount of time trying to patch up than anything else. “And we managed to extract the information you both collected. It’s really going to make a difference.” He pauses, unsure of his next words, wondering how inappropriate they might be, unsure of how the blonde felt about him after her departure. “Thank you.”

Aylin smiles fondly at his worry, allowing him to secure her back in place, delighted that her earlier assumptions hadn’t been true, that Trilla wasn’t just playing some sick mind game, that BD was safe and sound, on the Mantis where they belonged. Then, the words fully register, and her forehead creases in confusion. “For what?”

Cal leans back in his chair, hands running through his disheveled hair, the bags under his eyes more visible with the guilt festering in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve let anyone go and collect the data, and anyone else probably wouldn’t have been in the same danger as you.” His bright eyes drift to the bandages wrapped around her shoulder, flitting across the many bruises visible just from her neck up. “But you did and I- thank you. Thank you for doing this and I know-” He was rambling now, his hands running through his hair as Aylin watches him, a small smile tugging at her chapped lips. “I know I acted like a bit of an ass before you left- and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hesitates again, reaching forward to intertwine their hands, seeking comfort in knowing she was here, that he hadn’t failed her as he had done his master all those years ago. “I heard some of the things Trilla said to you, and I’m sorry you ever thought I wouldn’t come to get you. It was all I could think about since they caught you. Truthfully I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t gotten you back.”

The room plunges into silence once again, uncomfortable and stifling, Cal feeling overwhelmed at the emotions that echoed around him through the force, not daring to reach out to the blonde before him, fearful of what he might discover, fearful of heartbreak. Aylin gazes at the red head from under heavy lashes, weary eyes begging to close. The poor boy looked as exhausted as she felt, deep dark bags under his eyes, skin as pale as snow causing his scars to look red and glossy, highlighting the greyness to his pallor, his hair a dishevelled mess atop his head, tufts sticking out in every direction from the endless amount of times he had ran his fingers through his hair, tugging harshly at the roots in frustration. He had changed since she last saw him, donning a pair of cargo trousers and a comfortable sweater she had suggested he buy form a marker stall once, the navy material bunched up to his elbows, creased and crinkled from the stresses of the day. As tired as he looked and as rough as she felt, she doubted she had ever before been so ecstatic to see him, to see that he cared, even despite the truth of her history. Warmth spread from everywhere he touched, his soft touches and gentle caresses a stark contrast to anything she had felt before; it was everything she had hoped it could be.

“I remember seeing you in that uniform.” Aylin whispers, daring to break the silence, exhausted yet hopeful eyes boring into Cal’s own. “I’m surprised they didn’t realise you weren't one of them sooner.”

He was taken aback at the abrupt shift in conversation, cerulean eyes boring into Aylin’s own hazel pair with curiosity, his mind reeling at the exhaustingly dazzling smile she sent his way.

“And why’s that?” He questions softly, thumb unknowingly continuing to rub gentle circles on the back of her hand.

“Your eyes.” Cal’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, beginning to wonder if she had been able to understand his words in her drugged state. “They’re too kind.”

A moments pause. Cal could feel the familiar bloom of heat along his cheeks spreading to his ears, he dreaded to think how flushed he must look.

“They didn’t match the uniform at all.”

“You’re obviously delirious,” he deflects jokingly, voice just as soft, warmth spreading through his cheeks and neck. “the uniform didn’t even fit-”

“The eyes are the window to the soul.” She mutters defiantly, determined even despite her dazed and exhausted state. “I’ve seen the eyes of some of the cruelest men and women in the galaxy. You’re too good for them Cal, you’re too good for us, you’re too good for me. I don’t know why you came to save me, but I can’t thank you enough. I never thought I would get to see your eyes again.”

Because I love you. He wanted to say, yet his mind wouldn’t let him, forcing partial truth from his lips.

“I was worried I’d never get to see you again.” Cal admits, leaning forward in his chair. “You have no idea how worried I was. You’ll be the death of me one day.”

His eyes study her face; the softness of her cheeks, the angularity of her jaw, the curve of her lips. His eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips and then back again, watching a small smile carve its way across her small lips. He felt like a boy again, unsure and uncertain, inexperienced and insecure. He had felt like this many times around the blonde, but this time, he wouldn’t shy away. She was a shining star in an ever darkening galaxy, and he’d be dead before he let her fall from his grasp again. Mustering all the courage in the galaxy, his lips part. “I was worried I’d never get to do this.”

Some part of him, the part that remembered his time with the Jedi before the end to it all, the end of an era, stirred fear in his heart; fear of attachments, fear of loss, fear of love. A life of solitude and harmony he had practiced like a mantra, and that in every step of the way, when it came to the blonde in front of him, he had failed, time and time again. He remembers how he had felt when she had been captured, the way his heart had seized and his world had stopped, how his life since than had been nothing but worry and hurt, nothing but pain for what could have been and what might never be, the pain of loving someone and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to protect those he cares for more than anything else in the galaxy.

He had never been that dutiful of a Padawan anyway.

He leans closer, impossibly so, watching the grin grow on Aylin’s face as her eyes flutter shut. His lips connect with her own, melding together in an innocent affair, a hand coming up to cradle the side of her jaw, the other tightening its grip on her hand. He presses forward, heart hammering out of his chest and blood rushing through his ears as she kisses back, her free hand coming up to tentatively grasp the back of his neck, drawing him down to her; the girl he had been so close to losing, the boy she had been so close to forgetting. It was brief and uncertain, testing new waters both had been too scared to explore, but every emotion they had kept bottled for so long came bubbling to the surface; the hurt, the pain, the helplessness, the love. In moments that felt like an eternity Cal pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, wide uncertain eyes locked with her own with haggard breaths falling from his lips.

“Took you long enough.” She grins from underneath the sheets, her own heart ready to explode from her chest.

“Get some rest.” He mutters behind a laugh, pulling back to sit back in his chair, arms crossing to prop his head on the corner of the bed, one hand outstretched to hold her own in his strong grip. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!!

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win.

It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat.

At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home.

Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again.

It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life.

Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead.

You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen.

"I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted.

Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing.

Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale.

Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others.

A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better.

This time was no different.

Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.

Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

"Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

"Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom.

"Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored.

As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement.

Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart.

Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles.

At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom.

"What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving.

"We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Concerned?" You asked incredulously.

Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

"Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye.

"Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?"

"Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink.

"Ivar…."

He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

"Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears.

He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

"Ok."

Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell.

When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor.

Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face.

"Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot.

"No, you're sitting here now."

"Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them.

Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

"I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes.

"We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle.

"So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes.

"Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram.

Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement.

Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know.

"Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was.

"What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

"What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again.

Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us."

You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat.

Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face.

"Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine.

"It's not…. it’s nothing."

"Bullshit." Ivar spat.

Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon.

"Was it your mother?"

Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that.

Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

"She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own.

Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

"I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips.

"I second that!"

"Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother.

Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

"No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

"It's not stealing if she wants to go!"

Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

"No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

"Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

"Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair.

You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened.

For a moment there was dead silence then….

"I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word.

"Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered.

You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers.

"It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

"No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look.

"I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

"I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

"You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

"Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers.

Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap.

As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are.

Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted.

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