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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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We'll Be Expecting You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader/pregnant!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Baby Miller is on the way. Are they ready?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, descriptions of pregnancy, descriptions of giving birth (non graphic lol)

a/n | it's here! this can be read as a standalone fic but it is really a continuation of Unexpected Expectings, it's pretty fun either way I think :) also, um, it's long, so go get a snack and sit down, yeah?

.......................

“That’s it, honey. Feels good, huh?” His lips are a smear against her temple, bare chest curled over her back as he keeps her steady with firm but gentle palms smoothing up her hips. She clenches her hands against the bathroom counter, weakly pressing back into him with each thrust.

“Joel– feel s’good, fuck– don’t stop, please–” He shushes her, bringing one of his hands down below the swell of her belly, fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight circles that have her whining and throwing her head back against his shoulder. This has become how most mornings start since she had entered her third trimester, the morning sickness that had been rocking her all but gone and a new wave of hormones that had made her impossibly needy for him. And sensitive.

“C’mon, mama. I know you can give me one more. Please– need to feel you.” The low thrum of his words is all it takes to snap the banded pleasure pulled taut at her spine as her cunt spasms around him. He’s not far behind, rutting into her one more time before his warmth is spreading through her core, his damp forehead pressing between her shoulder blades. He lays a kiss to the nape of her neck, a comfort as he pulls out and she whimpers. Turning in his hold, they meet in a sloppy kiss as she runs her fingers through his hair, brushing back his sleep-mussed waves. His palms splay over the wide arc of her belly, and he pulls away with a chuckle, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in awe.

“I think our boy’s awake, darlin.” She grins, laying her hands over the tops of his.

“You’re still gunning for a boy, huh?” His eyes dart up to hers, a crooked smile on his face. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything, smacking one more kiss to his lips before getting the water running for their shower.

It’s a bit of a struggle getting dressed these days. There aren’t exactly any maternity stores to go shopping at in Jackson. She’s been making do with an elastic looped through the button of her jeans and Joel’s flannels, but even those are starting to stretch at the swell of her stomach. It’s hard to believe that they’ve made it to December, that in a little under a month it’s going to be time for this baby to come, one way or another.

She’s trying to stay calm, Joel already a nervous wreck the closer they inch to her projected due date, but the truth is, she’s just as scared as he is, if not more. There were no two ways about it, it hadn’t been an easy pregnancy. Much to her initial protest, Joel had gotten her off patrol shifts early on, but she wasn’t so upset about that when the vertigo episodes started coming on daily. There had been many a time when she just had to lay down where she stood and close her eyes until the room stopped spinning, something the town doctor had assured her wasn’t uncommon in pregnancy.

It certainly freaked Joel out though. He wouldn’t move from her side if he was with her when it happened, keeping a warm palm rubbing up and down her back. What had scared him more was when she actually started to lose weight during the second trimester, her nausea getting so bad she was lucky to keep sips of water down. He had taken time off of patrol then, staying by her side and trying to coax any food into her system that she could tolerate. They learned then that baby Miller had a particular affection for mashed potatoes. But it seemed like she was out of the woods once she hit the seven month mark, at least until the delivery.

“You know, I can still tell Tommy to go with someone else.” She huffs at his words, finishing up the buttons of her (his) shirt before waddling over to him. That’s the other thing, she waddles now. She’s never waddled in her entire life. She can see the entirely amused look on his face as he watches her from where he’s standing in their bedroom. When she reaches him she smacks his chest lightly before rubbing her palms up to clasp behind his neck and tug on his hair.

“I’m glad my gimpy walk is entertaining to you, Miller. But you wouldn’t be looking so smug if you had an entire human pressing down on your pelvis with each step.” He breathes a laugh, dipping down to press a kiss to her scrunched nose.

“I know, darlin. That’s why I think I need to stay close. I just– I don’t wanna–” She leans up to cut him off with a kiss.

“You’re not gonna miss anything. We’ve got nearly a whole month before doctor Graham thinks it’ll be time. And I’m feeling the best I have in the last eight months.” He huffs, shaking his head at that as he brushes his knuckles under her jaw.

“You’re tougher than most, that’s for sure.” She snorts at his words.

“Damn right I am. Go. Do your watch with Tommy. And come back on Wednesday in one piece.” She rests a palm over the curve of her stomach. It’s obvious Joel’s fighting a smile under his furrowed expression, but he finally gives in.

“Alright, mama. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He brings his much larger hand to rest over hers on her belly. She grins.

“We’ll be expecting you, Joel.”

…

Joel heads out soon after a quick breakfast. He and Tommy do this every season, camping out at the dam for a few days to make sure everything’s in order. Nothing was ever really wrong, a few swaths of infected, maybe a stray raider or two. It’s a routine check-up, and she isn’t worried in the slightest. It’s Monday, and he should be back Wednesday morning, nothing to worry about at all.

As she’s washing up after breakfast, Ellie comes bounding into the kitchen, holding something behind her back. She turns from the sink, resting her hand on her hip and taking in Ellie’s wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I swear you get rounder everyday. Seriously, that kid is gonna bust out of you all Alien style. Like ahhhhh.” Ellie makes more groaning noises, miming an explosion around her own abdomen before dissolving into laughter. She however, is less than amused.

“I take it that’s what was playing at movie night yesterday?” The girl hums, seeming to remember what she actually came in to tell her. She holds out what she had been hiding behind her back.

“Traded for this last night. Thought it’d be nice for the baby since she’s coming in the winter and everything.” She takes the bundle of fabric from Ellie, holding it out and seeing that it’s a sweet little quilt embroidered with pink and purple flowers. The other thing about being pregnant is how emotional she’s gotten, and before she even knows it, she’s starting to sniffle as she grasps the plush blanket. Ellie’s brow furrows, coming alongside her and awkwardly patting her back.

“Shit, don’t cry. It’s nice right?” She chuckles wetly, pulling Ellie into a tight hug that elicits a small “oof” from the girl before pulling away and holding her by her arms.

“It’s so nice, Ellie bean. I love it. Baby’s gonna love it too. I’ll tuck it in the crib for when they get here.” Ellie grins.

“You know, you can just say she. Everyone except for Joel thinks it’s gonna be a girl anyways.” She laughs, shaking her head at Ellie’s smug expression.

“I know. But he wants a boy so bad, the damn fool. I’ve been waiting to finish putting together the nursery because everything people have given me is pink.” Ellie laughs at that, sidling past her to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Might be a good time to get that done. Just rip the band-aid off before he gets back, you know?” She hums, folding the blanket back up in her hands.

“You’re probably right, kid. I’ll work on it today. The pinkening.” Ellie snorts around a swig of water before glancing at the clock hanging over the stove.

“Shit, I gotta go. My shift started five minutes ago.” She squeezes the girl’s shoulder as she brushes past.

“Be safe, alright? You better be home for dinner.” Ellie smiles, nodding over her shoulder as she’s already halfway out the door.

…

She’s been keeping all the baby odds and ends she’s been given in old boxes in a closet upstairs. Most of it really is pink, and she didn’t want to dash Joel’s hopes just yet. She picks up one of the boxes with a groan, shuffling down the hall to the nursery they’ve been working on. It had been Ellie’s room when they first got here. It was obviously a teen girl’s room before, bright colors and patterns on the curtains and the rug. But Ellie was more than happy to trade the room for her own little apartment in the garage that Joel had helped her build out. She could play her music as loud as she wanted to, a point that had really sold her on the idea. The twin bed remains in the room, but now pressed against the wall across from it is a crib. Joel had worked on it all summer, collecting scrap wood, sanding it down to perfection, carefully laying the pieces together, and carving swirling patterns into the rails. She had spent many a hazy afternoon sitting in his workshop with him, ogling the push and pull of his muscles under his thin t-shirts as he worked on it.

She shakes her head of her quickly simmering thoughts, starting to pull out impossibly tiny pieces of clothing to fold in the dresser. It feels odd, this quasi-nesting she’s doing. She certainly never thought she’d get to do anything like this after, well, after. In her old life, she did want kids someday, but she had only just started college when the world fell to pieces, and suddenly that desire turned into a pipe dream that she resolved herself to let go of. How things have changed.

She spends the rest of the morning organizing the baby’s room, laying the blanket Ellie had given her in the crib as a final touch.

Pregnancies were sort of a big deal in town, and for good reason, so when folks found out that baby Miller was on the way, they started dropping off old toys and books, cloth diapers and bottles, anything that might be helpful. It was nice, if not a little stifling. She knew there was a weariness to their excitement for her, an unspoken acknowledgement of how quickly it could all go south. The further along she got, the less she liked being out around town as people seemed to get more handsy, asking more questions about how she was doing that only made her nerves worse. The only person who disliked it more than her was Joel, keeping a protective hand over her belly whenever they were out in town together, a deep scowl on his face if someone started getting too nosy. But at this late stage of pregnancy, her doctor had all but commanded her off any work detail, a free pass to stay in and away from prying eyes, though she did still like to help out at the stables most days.

Glancing at her watch she sees it’s about time for her to head over to the stables. She sighs, standing in the doorframe to take one more look at the nursery.

“Ready when you are, baby girl.”

…

“You must be distracted because I’m whooping your ass harder than usual, man.” Joel huffs at Tommy’s words, throwing his cards down on the table and sitting back in his chair. Night is quickly closing in on the plains, and the brothers have set up their usual camp in the dam control room, a small lantern lighting their games of gin. Tommy smirks at his brother.

“Joel, she’s fine. She’s got Maria and Ellie looking out for her, and doctor Graham told you herself that everything’s looking good. There’s nothing to be worried about.” Joel scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t remember you being so relaxed when Maria was this close to her due date.” He’s got him there, a beat of silence passing before Tommy shrugs.

“Okay, maybe that’s true. But looking back, there was no point to that, getting so freaked out. Because I knew that Maria was strong, that she’d get through it. And hell, that woman of yours is one of the strongest people I ever met.”

“It’s not just about strength, Tommy, not in this world. You know that. One little thing gone wrong, that’s all it’d take.” Tommy lays his cards down, leaning over the table to look Joel straight in the eye.

“Well, that’s why we’re not gonna let anything go wrong, huh? All of us, Joel. We’ve got her. We’re gonna finish this watch and then we’re gonna go home and she’s gonna be fine because we’ve got her.” Joel swallows thickly, not wanting to press the issue any further, though his mind is still swirling in worry. He nods at Tommy.

“Get some sleep. I’ll take first shift. We’ll sweep the south side tomorrow morning.” Tommy nods, getting up and squeezing Joel’s shoulder before laying out his sleeping bag and settling in.

As the quiet of the night deepens, Joel finds his mind wandering. He can’t help thinking about how different the circumstances with Sarah had been. And not just for the obvious reasons. Joel had been so young, so reckless, and when Sarah’s mom came to tell him they hadn’t been as careful as they thought they had, it turned his world upside down. What had started as a hazy one-night stand turned into a shotgun wedding, an attempt to do what his father told him was the right thing. But the only thing that brought them together was Sarah, and even that hadn’t been enough. Before his baby girl could even walk, Sarah’s mom had flown the coop, divorce papers in the mail a few months after she left. Joel didn’t even care, not when he suddenly could hold his whole life in his arms. Sarah was his whole life, from the moment she was born until the moment he lost her.

But this was different. Joel still has a hard time telling her he loves her, mostly because it feels like love isn’t a big enough word for what they have, what they’ve been through together. But, he does love her, so much it terrifies him. He’s been struggling to even wrap his mind around what he feels about this baby, their baby. Part of him fears forgetting Sarah, though he knows that’s impossible. The other part of him fears just how far he already knows he’d go for this person who isn’t even here yet.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s going to be a long night.

…

It had been a long night. She had already been having trouble sleeping, but laying down in an empty bed made it all but impossible to get any rest. It had also been a particularly uncomfortable night. Wicked cramps had kept her restless through most of the night. She wakes up the next morning to a clenching pain in her low back. She assumes it’s just because of the weird position she had ended up sleeping in, curled on her side in a jumble of pillows, and hobbles out of bed with a groan. Glancing at her watch, she’s shocked to see how late she slept, quickly cleaning herself up and padding downstairs, wincing at how the pain doesn’t seem to be dissipating.

She finds Maria and Ellie in the kitchen, both of them brightening when she walks in.

“Well, good morning. Was starting to get a little worried that the alien finally busted out of your guts.” Ellie laughs at her own joke, but Maria shoots the girl a look before smiling back at her.

“You feeling alright?” She huffs, rubbing her low back.

“Yeah, just a little tired I guess. But my back is killing me. It’s like someone is wringing my spine.” Maria hums, passing her a glass of water.

“Sounds about right. I remember I could barely walk that last month, my back had seized up so much. Are you hungry? I made oatmeal.” She scrunches her nose, shuffling over to the kitchen table.

“I’m really not, but thanks. Think I just need to sit down for a moment.” Ellie takes the seat beside her, concern splashed over her face.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” She tries to offer her a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

“I’m alright, Ellie bean. I just–” She cuts herself off with a gasp when a sharp pain slices hot through her pelvis. It’s only afterwards that she realizes she had dropped the glass she was holding, shards all over the floor. Maria is cleaning the mess up in a flash with a dishrag.

“I’m so sorry, Maria– I don’t know what that was, I–” “Oh, shit.” Her eyes dart back to Ellie who’s staring at her pants. She glances down, having to look twice when she sees the liquid darkening the insides of her pant legs. She feels a cool panic settling in her spine.

“No no no no no–”

“Ellie, go tell doctor Graham she needs to get here, immediately. You’re gonna have to ride out to the dam after and get Joel.” Ellie nods at Maria’s words, her mouth agape, as she jerkily stands, but stays still, staring at her. Maria brings a hand to her shoulder.

“Go, Ellie. I’ve got her.” Ellie finally looks away, dashing out the front door. She meanwhile feels like her head is full of static, the only salient thought she’s having coming out of her mouth like a prayer.

“It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet.” Maria kneels down in front of her, taking her hands and squeezing hard.

“It looks like it’s time, alright? A little early, but nothing we can’t handle. C’mon, we need to get you cleaned up and comfortable.” Maria goes to help her out of her chair but just then another shooting pain jolts through her that leaves her gasping for breath. Her voice is a cracked whine when she speaks again.

“I need him here, please, Maria. I can’t do this without him.” Maria nods, eyes wide.

“Listen, Ellie’s gonna get him back here as quick as she can. But we gotta worry about you right now, ok? Can I help you stand up?” She’s already helping her up, tucking under her arm to help her walk.

She can’t believe this is happening.

…

She can’t believe this is happening.

Ellie mounts Shimmer in a panicked haze, and when she gets out of the walls of Jackson, she rides harder than she ever has before.

She had been excited about this new addition to what she had only just started to call her family, but now, there’s only pure fear running like ice in her veins. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and it has become incredibly clear that she could lose her today. The biting cold wind is freezing her tears on her face, but all she can think about is the gasp the woman she had started to think of as her mom had let out, and the crumpled look of pain that dashed across her face. If she hustles, it’ll be a three-hour ride out and back home. A lot can happen in six hours.

…

“Can we open the windows? I feel like I’m sweating buckets.” Even though it’s the middle of winter in Wyoming, Maria nods, creaking both windows open to let the frigid air in. She won’t let it show, but she’s nervous. It’s early, and unexpected. Unexpected is never good.

Kevin had come early, back before. They had to keep him in an incubator for two weeks. She remembers only being able to touch him through plastic gloves, how it had sent her reeling, not being able to hold him close to her right away. What she would have given to have him laid on her chest the instant he was born instead of being whisked away by nurses. She just hopes that it’s not too early for her, this woman she’s come to think of as a sister.

She had certainly been wary of her, and of Joel, when they first came, grizzled partners of obvious violence that they were. But seeing the way they took care of Ellie, and of each other, it became clear to her that their violence was never purposeless, rather an unavoidable cost to their quiet love for one another. They were family now.

“Let’s get you into some fresh clothes, alright?” She nods to Maria, biting down on her clear expression of turmoil as Maria takes her into the bathroom.

“Do you think you can stand for a bit? Would a shower help?” She gets no response, a vacant stare has settled over her face. Maria kneels down to get on her level where she’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Hey. I need you to stay right here with me, alright? Ellie’s gonna get Joel back here as quick as she can. But you have to focus on this right now. I’ve got you, you’re not gonna do this alone.” She brings her focus back on Maria, tears threatening to spill over. A twinge runs through Maria’s chest at the sight of this normally tough woman on the brink of dissolving. She takes both her hands in hers.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

Tommy hasn’t seen his brother like this in a long time. As he patrols the perimeter of the dam, he thinks to himself that Joel probably hasn’t acted like this since before the world ended, since before he lost Sarah. While it’s clear he’s worried, it’s also clear he cares. And while he’d never admit it to him, Tommy can see that he’s excited. For the first time in a long time, Tommy thinks that Joel looks wide awake.

But, damn, had he been so close to fucking it all up. Tommy had been so upset that day, when she knocked on his door and dissolved into tears, telling him what his brother had said. She’s tough as nails, and so is Joel, but it’s clear they’re each other’s weak spot. He’s just happy Joel didn’t fuck it up any worse afterward. There was no question he knew how to do it right. It was something Tommy always admired, and aspired to, how good he was with Sarah. When he found out Maria was pregnant, his mind often wandered to those first years that Joel had Sarah, and how amazed Tommy had been at how quickly he filled his new role. A natural father. Joel had told him he was hoping for a boy, but Tommy couldn’t see his brother not raising a girl.

He keeps walking through the snow, eyes shifting, looking for anything out of place. Like usual, it’s quiet, and he reckons Joel is finding the same thing from where he’s surveying a little further south.

It’s not quiet for long, however, his ears pricking to the sound of what he thinks are galloping hooves. He stills, cocking his gun, eyes darting around him, settling on the lone rider bounding toward him. He fixes his sight in the scope of his rifle, letting out a low curse when he can see that it’s Ellie.

This can’t be good.

…

“You’re about six centimeters dilated. We’re getting there, my dear.” She lets out a low groan as the next contraction washes over her.

“Jesus, fuck.” Doctor Graham checks her watch.

“Five minutes apart. And it ain’t jesus, honey. That’s all you.” Maria snorts at that, helping her get up from her bed so she can start pacing again. It’s the only thing that’s been taking her mind off the contractions. She glances at doctor Graham who has sat down in the armchair to take more notes.

“Doctor? How much longer do you think until it’s time to– it’s time–” She sets down her notepad, smiling softly at her.

“Well, I’d say anywhere from two to four hours until you’re ready to push. But then that’s gonna be a whole new rodeo. And I’ve told you a hundred times already to just call me Suze.” She nods, trying to muster a smile as she continues to pace the rug, Maria hovering alongside her. She glances at her, a hopeful lift to her brow.

“Joel will be back by then, right? He’ll be back in time?” Maria sighs, squeezing her arm.

“I just don’t know. But I hope so.” She doesn’t have time to frown at her words, not when a new contraction is making her keel over where she stands.

“Three minutes apart that time. Certainly getting closer. Baby’s gonna be here soon.”

…

Joel feels like he’s drowning as they hurry to mount up and get home. When Tommy and Ellie had come bounding towards him, he didn’t believe it at first, had shouted at Ellie that it was impossible, it was too early.

“Well you’re not the one who saw her fucking water break, old man!” That had shut him up quick. As they strap their packs to their horses, it feels like tiny fissures are splitting through his heart, and each breath is threatening to send him crumbling to pieces. He can’t think about it, if he does he’ll get paralyzed by terror, but all he wants is to scream because she needs him and he isn’t there.

He’s broken out of his haze by the stark sound of guns cocking.

They jerk around in a flash, he and Tommy holding up their rifles, Ellie whipping out a knife. Four men come prowling out of the treeline, the mouths of their guns facing them down. Raiders no doubt. Joel is just about ready to destroy them with his bare hands if he has to, but he takes a beat, trying to gather his fracturing thoughts. One of the men finally speaks.

“You folks better drop your weapons if you know what’s good for you.” No one moves, Joel quickly glancing at Tommy.

“I said drop your fucking weapons!” Here’s what Joel knows in that moment. He knows that Ellie still carries a gun tucked in the back of her belt, even though he keeps telling her not to. He knows Tommy’s got a side piece tucked under his jacket, as well as a hunting knife strapped to his leg. And he knows that he himself has enough unadulterated rage in his body right now to rip this man’s head clean off his shoulders.

He glances at Tommy and Ellie again, the slightest nod, and they all drop their weapons, palms up. The men step closer, eyeing the horses.

“Where are you folks from?” It’s Tommy who responds.

“Nowhere, we’re just passing through.” The man sneers at him.

“Oh yeah? Those horses look pretty good for you to be just passing through.” Ellie butts in.

“We–we stole them! From an old couple a few miles north.” The men keep inching up on them. Joel just needs them to get a little closer. The man who seems to be the leader sizes Joel up.

“Well, then I guess it’s no hard feelings if we take them off your hands, huh?” It’s almost imperceptible, the look he shoots at Tommy and Ellie, a silent understanding that’s arisen after enough standoffs together. Joel’s on the man before he can even get his finger on the trigger.

He can hear gunshots ringing out, catching the sight of two of the men falling in his periphery, but he’s too zeroed in on the man he’s throttling into the ground to check if it had been Tommy or Ellie who got them. He keeps his hand pinning the gasping man down by his throat, reaching back to draw his knife out.

“Real sorry about this, but the missus is expecting me.”

…

She thinks briefly of the time she got shot in the thigh. Back when it was her, Joel, and Tess, and their smuggling business in the Boston QZ. Tess had to pluck the bullet out of where it had lodged in the muscle of her thigh, digging a pair of tweezers into the wound. She thinks that this hurts way more than that.

Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, doesn’t even sound human, when she lets out a low, guttural scream, pressing her head back into the pillows, her chest heaving under her sweat-soaked tank top. Doctor Graham - Suze - is kneeling on the end of the bed between her spread legs. Maria is holding her hand tight alongside the bed.

“Nine centimeters. We’re gonna have you pushing in the next hour, my dear.” She sobs, shaking her head.

“No, we can’t– we can’t yet– please– we have to wait–” Maria shushes her, bringing a damp cloth to her forehead.

“Listen, Joel’s gonna get here when he gets here– if we try to wait it could hurt you or baby. You have to do this, Joel or no Joel.” Maria squeezes her hand, offering her sips of water that she refuses. She lets out a humorless laugh, bracing for another contraction.

“I swear to god if he doesn’t get here in time, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

…

Ellie’s never seen Joel move so fast, and the second he’s mounted, he’s gone, damn near impossible to catch up with in the whipping snow. She and Tommy do their best to stay on his tail, but he quickly becomes a speck in the distance as they all ride home.

…

She’s not sure how long she’s been pushing now, but it feels like an eternity. The only thing keeping her a sliver sane is Maria guiding her through each push, breathing with her.

“We’re crowning, my dear. You’re doing so great, honey. Let’s get ready for another strong push.” Her eyes dart between Suze who’s kneeling between her legs and Maria, wild panic creeping up her throat. Maria takes both her hands, holding her gaze firm and steady.

“I’m here with you. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” Suze squeezes her knee.

“I’m gonna count you down, my dear, and then I want another beautiful push just like you’ve been doing. Three– two–”

She lets out a blood-curdling scream on one.

…

“Open the fucking gates!” Joel glances over his shoulder, barely making out Tommy waving his red bandana in the air and hollering into the wind. He turns back, hearing the harsh groan of the wall opening. He’s coming in hot, hotter than he should. Normally people have to dismount before they pass through. But nothing about this is normal.

He whips through the narrow opening, galloping right down the main drag of town, people scrambling in shock to get out of his way.

When he reaches their home, he sees a whole cluster of people hanging on the railings of the porch, heads craned up towards the open windows on the second floor. He brings his horse to a hard, skittering stop, the crowd whipping around to look at him with agape expressions. He dismounts, but is stuck where he stands when a preening scream comes resounding from the windows. His heart finally shatters. He rushes up to the front door before thinking twice and shouting over his shoulder at the bystanders.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do? Get!” He barely hears their shocked gasps as he slips inside and slams the door behind him.

He’s still got his rifle strapped around him as he bounds up the stairs two at a time. He shoulders into the bedroom right as she’s letting out another ragged scream. The sight of her takes his breath away, her crumpled expression as she finishes pushing, her sweat-damp hair stuck to her face. Suze is quick to fix him with a hard look before he gets any closer.

“Oh, absolutely not, mister. You’re not getting anywhere near her until you lose the gun and clean off whoever’s blood that is.”

…

Her eyes crack open after her last push and she’s shocked to see him standing there.

“Joel?” He yanks his rifle off his shoulder, dropping it outside the bedroom door. She can see blood spattered across his jacket and face.

“I’m right here, baby.” He quickly shucks off his jacket and boots, hustling over to the bathroom. She cranes her neck and can just see him harshly scrubbing at his arms and face before he hurries back into the bedroom, Maria moving out of the way to let him kneel down alongside the bed. She narrows her eyes at him as he takes her hand.

“F-f-fuck you. I’ve been trying– trying to wait for you all day. Do you know how fucking hard that’s been?” His face goes slack at her harsh words, but before he can respond a contraction hits and she has to push, curling up over her stomach and bearing down hard as Suze counts her through it. She squeezes his hand tight, slumping back in a mess of heaving breath when she’s done. He takes her face in his hands, holding her gaze steady.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now? I’ve been trying to get back to you all goddamn day! You were the one that told me to go, you mad woman!” She huffs, getting ready to reply but Suze cuts her off.

“Hey! You two! Cut the bullshit so we can get this baby out, huh? A few more strong pushes is all it’s gonna take.” Her focus immediately falls back to the pain she’s in, and she grips onto both of Joel’s wrists, whimpering his name.

“I’ve got you, mama. Tell me what you need. What can I do, baby?”

“Want you closer, please– n-n-need you with me, closer.” He shushes her, letting go of her face and coaxing her to sit up a bit as he gracelessly crawls onto the bed to slide behind her. His legs splay out, framing her bent knees, and she rests back into his chest, her head laying back on his shoulder. For a moment, relief floods through her body as he brings a forearm to wrap over her sternum, hand squeezing her opposite shoulder as he presses kisses into her damp hair.

Suze settles back into position between her legs, Maria now standing alongside the bed with towels and scissors ready. Suze gives her a firm nod.

“Alright, my dear. I’m gonna count you down and you give me another strong push.” She brings her hands to curl over Joel’s forearm bracing, herself for another lick of pain, while he lowly murmurs in her ear.

“I’m here with you, baby. You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

…

“Three– two– one.” The scream she lets out sends a jagged shiver down Joel’s spine and he finds himself grinding his teeth as she bears down, her nails digging hard into his arm. He hadn’t been there for Sarah’s birth, not really, she was a c-section. This is certainly different.

She slumps back in his hold, her head lolling on his chest as she looks up at him through teary eyes.

“I can’t– I can’t do anymore, Joel– please.” He squeezes her shoulder, bringing his other hand to tangle with one of hers.

“You can, baby– I know you can– strongest person I know, huh? You’re so close, baby, just a little bit more.” She lets out a broken sob and Joel hates that he can’t do more for her, helplessly pressing a kiss to her forehead and continuing to murmur to her. Suze clears her throat.

“I think this next one is gonna do it. But you gotta make it a good one, my dear. Can you do that for me?” She huffs in his hold, shuddering around another sob before sitting up a little more against his chest. When she looks up at him, there’s steel in her eyes and Joel realizes that those weren’t just comforting words he told her, she really is the strongest person he’s ever met. She looks back at Suze and gives her a quick nod.

“Count me down. I’m ready.”

…

It’s a searing pain and then the sweetest relief she’s ever felt. The room is awash with the sound of cries and it makes her head go dizzy that it’s coming from her baby. Suze snips the umbilical cord, and Maria wraps the squirming thing up in towels before giving her a bright smile.

“It’s a girl.” What she wasn’t expecting was the breathy laugh Joel lets out over her shoulder at that, his words dripping in awe.

“It’s a girl. Our girl.”

Maria carefully walks to the side of the bed and lays her on her chest. It’s the most natural feeling thing in the world as she cups her impossibly small head, a tiny palm splaying like a star over her sternum. Joel brings a tentative palm over their girl’s little back. She glances back at him, tears settling in the creases of his smile.

“You did it, darlin. Did so good for her– you’re amazing.” She breathes out a wet laugh.

“I had help.” Joel grins, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Just a little. But that was all you.” She snorts, looking back down on her girl whose cries have settled into low coos before glancing back at Joel.

“You helped.” That makes him laugh, gaze focusing back on their girl.

“Just a little. Christ– know I wouldn’t shut up about wanting a boy– but she’s perfect.” She smiles, settling back against his chest and watching as her eyes open for the first time, wide and wild as she seems to take in her and Joel. He lets out a low sigh.

“Hey, baby girl. M’sorry I almost missed you. Never gonna happen again, huh? Think your mama would kill me first.” She scoffs, jostling back against him as he chuckles. He rests his chin on her shoulder, fully enrapt with their girl as she starts to look around, tiny fingers flexing against her chest.

“What’s her name, darlin?” She bites her lip, craning her neck to look back at him.

“I was thinking Olivia Sarah Miller. What do you think?” She sees his features soften even more, a sweet sadness threading into his joy. He nods.

“I think that sounds perfect for our girl. I love you, darlin. Love you both so much.” His voice is warbly, but she’s still never heard him sound so sure of something. She offers him the same certainty in her own voice.

“I love you too, Joel. And our little family.”

The sound of stomping boots sounds through the house, and Ellie comes blustering into the room, cheeks red and puffing hard breaths.

“Oh thank fuck. Is it– are you– are you ok?” Maria and Suze both chuckle from where they’re cleaning up Suze’s supplies. She smiles at Ellie, lightly nodding, but it’s Joel who speaks.

“They’re both alright, kid. Your sister’s a fighter, just like her mama.” As if on cue, Olivia lets out a small cry, her tiny fist pressing into her chest. Ellie laughs in disbelief.

A little family indeed.

…

Joel’s back is killing him. The first few weeks have been a bit touch and go with Libby coming so early, and they’ve been sleeping in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in the nursery, hardly leaving the room, making sure she’s warm and fed at all times. So Joel’s back is killing him, but he doesn’t care at all, not when every time he leans over the crib he’s met with the sweet sight of their girl, their little amalgamation of all their best parts.

“Well, she’s looking good, very healthy, nice strong lungs, putting on weight just like we want her to. I’d say you’ve got a tough one on your hands.” His shoulders slacken in relief at Suze’s words as she starts packing up her bag of medical tools. Libby begins to fuss in her crib and her mama is quick to pick her up, murmuring to her and bouncing her lightly before turning her attention back to the doctor.

“So would you say we’re in the clear?” He can see the worry creased across her face as she asks the question to Suze. He brings his arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly as he gazes down at their girl. Suze grins.

“While anything’s possible, my professional opinion is that Miss Olivia here is going to do just fine. Although right now I’d say she’s looking a little hungry, so I’ll get out of your hair.” Suze slings her bag over her shoulder, nodding to them both before letting herself out.

She’s already moving to sit in the rocking chair that had been a gift from Tommy and Maria. Joel would never admit it, but he’s been getting worked up every time he gets to see her feed their girl. A softness takes over her that’s rare in this world, all hushed murmurings as Libby’s hand splays over the swell of her breast, content gasps coming from their girl as she starts to suckle. Joel can’t help but hover whenever he gets the chance, leaning against the back of the chair and dropping a kiss to her temple every now and again, sharing little smiles between watching their girl.

“Ellie told me she thinks you’re getting soft, Miller. Said she can’t believe you’ve opted out of patrol shifts to work the stables.” Joel huffs, standing up straight to stretch his aching back.

“Just got more important things closer to home I guess. But I ain’t getting soft, no ma’am.” She hums at that, craning her neck to peer at him.

“Oh really? It wasn’t you I heard up here yesterday afternoon singing some sweet little song to Libby?” He balks at that, trying to stifle a grin as he shakes his head. He had spent some time with their girl yesterday afternoon while she caught up on sleep on the couch downstairs, and maybe he had started humming tunes to her, watching her eyes widen with the sound of his voice like magic.

“Nah, couldn’t have been me. Think you’re hearing things, darlin. All them hormones are messing with you.” She rolls her eyes at that, righting her shirt before standing with Libby in her arms. She sways slightly side to side, looking at him over the top of Libby’s head.

“I like you soft, Joel. It’s a good look on you. At least when you want to be.” There’s such adoration in her eyes as she looks at him that he can’t help the blush creeping up his neck.

“Only for my girls. Everyone else can fuck off.” She laughs hard at that, shushing Libby when she starts to fuss at the sound. He shuffles over to her, coaxing their girl out of her arms and into his. He had thought it’d feel awkward, holding her for the first time, but it all came back to him in a flash, and now nothing felt quite as right as when he had her little body resting in his arms. She steps back, taking in the sight of him and humming.

“Don’t let Ellie see you like this, she’s gonna think you’ve gone full teddy bear.” He only grumbles a little, too focused on watching their girl’s wide eyes peering around. If being soft means he gets moments like this, he’ll take all of Ellie’s heckling, no complaints at all.

…

“So what’d the doctor say? Everything looking good?” “Kid, if you don’t chew first you’re gonna choke with the way you’re talking. Just slow down a little, huh?” Ellie huffs at Joel, swallowing around her bite of dinner before looking at her expectantly. She chuckles lightly at the girl’s eager expression.

“She said Libby’s doing great, told us that she’s a tough one.” Ellie grins, startling Joel when she slaps him on the back.

“Well seeing as she came from you two hardasses I’d sure hope she’s tough– I say that with love, of course.” Joel grumbles, side-eyeing her and muttering “of course.” She lays her hand over Ellie’s from across the table.

“Ellie, I never really thanked you for what you did that day, riding out like that. You don’t know how much that meant to me.” Suddenly shy, Ellie offers her a soft smile, shrugging.

“Couldn’t let the old man miss all the fun, right? I’d do it again in an instant, just so you know. Seeing as I– like– love you guys– I guess.” She glances at Joel who’s obviously trying to hold back a grin. She squeezes Ellie’s hand.

“We love you too, Ellie bean. Me, the old man, and your little sister.” Ellie’s smile brightens into a grin at that. Joel grumbles again.

“Can y’all stop calling me that? Not even that old, goddamn.” They share a laugh at his furrowed look. As they finish dinner, she can’t help but sit back and take in the sight of this strange family they’ve created. Joel and Ellie bickering about training the new horses for the spring, Libby dozing in her bassinet alongside the table. It’s something she could have never imagined, but she knows it’s perfect. It’s family.

…

“Suze said we really don’t need to be sleeping in there with her now. It’ll be ok, we’re like ten feet further away and a whole lot less cramped.” Joel seems unsure about what she says, glancing back at the crib where they just laid their sleepy girl down. She huffs, tugging on his shirt collar to pull him along across the hall to their bedroom.

“Joel, it’s fine. She’s gonna be crying in a few hours and we’ll both end up back in there anyways. Why don’t we try to get some sleep not as a human pretzel beforehand, huh?” He sighs, but acquiesces to her coaxing, following her into the bathroom as they both start getting ready for bed.

It’s silly, but she can’t stop watching the muscles in his forearm jumping as he brushes his teeth, her thoughts going a bit fuzzy and warm. Sex has been the last thing on her mind these last few weeks, and Suze had told her that was normal with all the hormonal shifts. But with six weeks in the rearview mirror of absolutely nothing, she’s getting hot under the collar just looking at his goddamn arms. She clears her throat, gripping the edge of the sink as she looks at him through the mirror.

“You know, Suze told me something else during my check-up today.” Joel hums, wiping toothpaste off his mouth as he turns to look at her.

“Yeah, she, uh, gave me the go ahead for the other kind of human pretzels.” She’s mortified at her horrible joke the moment it leaves her mouth, but Joel lets out a laugh, throwing his head back and crinkling his eyes shut. She huffs, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting as he tries to recompose himself. When he sees her crestfallen expression, he immediately dips down, trying to catch her gaze while stifling his laughter.

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. Just– please– never use the phrase human pretzel again.” He can barely get the words out as he dissolves into another laugh. She rolls her eyes, turning to walk away from him but he’s quick to pull her in until her back is snug against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he dips his chin down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry– I’m done, I swear. So, uh, are you telling me you want to?” She scoffs, trying to get out of his hold but he just squeezes her tighter.

“Well, I did. But then somebody laughed at me.” He shushes her, pressing kisses into the side of her neck that trail up her jaw all the way to her temple.

“C’mon, mama. Don’t be like that, huh? Been missing you so bad.” She’s already melting in his grasp at the way he’s nuzzling the slope of her neck, letting his lips drag over her skin. She lets out a breathy sigh of his name and can feel the way his mouth curls into a grin.

“Now that’s more like it, darlin.” She turns in his hold, meeting him in a hard kiss. They both groan into each other’s mouths, practically devouring each other in a tangle of tongues and bumping teeth. Only coming up for quick gasps of air, they shuffle back into the bedroom, hands roaming and wandering. Joel’s quick to lose his shirt with a harsh tug of it over his head and she immediately dips to smear kisses along his chest, fingernails grazing down his front. He tucks his fingers under her chin to bring her back up for a kiss, licking into her mouth hotly. But she stills in his hold when his fingers start working at the buttons of her flannel.

“Wanna see you– been missing just looking at you.” His words are murmured hotly into her neck, so he doesn’t catch the crumpled look that’s settled over her face.

She knows it’s stupid, but she’s been hiding from Joel over the last few weeks. It seems like her body looks a little different with each day, and while he had practically worshiped her pregnant body, this wasn’t that, and it certainly wasn’t what she looked like before. She steps back a bit, gripping his wrists to keep him from getting any further with her buttons. He looks at her with total confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She sighs, tucking her chin into her chest, too embarrassed to meet his questioning gaze.

“I just– it’s different– I’m different– don’t want you to be disappointed.” A heavy silence falls between them. She’s shocked when it’s broken by Joel laughing, quickly whipping her head up to see him looking at her like she’s gone mad. She huffs.

“I swear to god, Joel Miller, if you laugh at me one more time, I’m gonna–” he’s quick to cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her back towards him.

“Hey, hey, hey– I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at that ridiculous shit you said. I don’t wanna hear that kinda talk from you ever again, huh? You– you’re amazing. I could never be disappointed when I look at you, darlin. You wanna know why?” She glances at him, seeing that he’s grinning.

“Because, when I look at you, I see the woman who was batshit crazy enough to love me.” She snorts at that, but he’s not done.

“When I look at you, I see the woman who gave me life back. Who gave me family. You’re everything, darlin. When I look at you, I see everything.” Tears run down her cheeks as she laughs wetly at his words.

“Ellie’s right, you have gone soft.” He huffs around his grin, shaking his head as he dips down to wrap her up in a deep kiss, bringing his palms to cup her jaw as he all but takes her breath away. When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, their lips lightly brushing as he murmurs to her.

“Will you let me see you, darlin? Please?” She holds his gaze, nodding only slightly, but it’s enough to get a broad smile out of him as he lays one more kiss to her lips before letting his hands wander back down to the buttons of her shirt.

She holds her breath the whole time, only exhaling when he slips the shirt down her shoulders. When she finally glances at his face, all she sees there is awe as he lets his fingers ghost up her hips, her sides, over the tops of her bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful. Just wanna look at you, huh? Never wanna stop looking at you.” Before the hard blush creeps any further up her neck, she pulls him in for another kiss, her mind swimming in the feeling of bare skin pressed to bare skin. Joel starts to shuffle them back toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she’s splaying back with a soft “oof” as he hovers over her.

Joel’s mouth starts to wander, trailing down her neck, along her collarbone. She can’t help but preen when he laves his tongue over the swell of her breast, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there before doing the same to the other side. He keeps meandering lower and lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips in his wake until he’s nudging his nose along the waistband of her pants. She huffs under his teasing ministrations and he looks up at her deep pout with a smug grin.

“Patience, darlin. Just trying to love on you a little, huh? Been a while.” She cards her fingers through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

“It has been a while– so quit fucking teasing already.” He snorts at that, murmuring into her skin how she’s “so bossy, goddamn” but he seems to comply with her plea, fingers working quickly to undo her pants and slide them off her legs along with her panties.

He kneels at the foot of the bed between her legs, eyes roaming over her completely bare figure, lips parted and eyes blown wide. She feels like she could melt he’s looking at her so hard. He brings his palms to her calves, dipping down to nose along the inside of one leg, trailing up and up and up until his breath is just grazing where she needs him most. But he’s gone in an instant, and she actually whines as he starts to mouth down the soft skin of her other thigh. He shushes her, his low murmuring rasp thrumming through her skin.

“So beautiful. My beautiful woman. I’ll give you what you need, darlin.” With that, he skims back to the apex of her thighs, and she shivers as he coaxes her legs over his shoulders, spreading her out for him as he lays between her thighs. No more teasing, he licks a broad stripe through her folds that makes her press her head back hard into the pillows. He works her over like a man starved, fingers flexing into the softness of her thighs as he licks into her, smearing her wetness up to her clit and laving over the nerves there. She lets her fingers drag through his hair, tugging lightly, his low groans sending jolts through her core. A ragged moan draws through her chest when he pulls away just slightly to spit on her cunt, quickly chasing the slick with his tongue and coaxing out more gasps from her.

“Fuck, Joel– feel so good, please– I need– I need–” she can’t even get it out, she’s so far gone, but he knows her well enough to understand what she wants, slipping two of his fingers inside her and finding a steady rhythm as he mouths at her clit.

“Want you to come for me. Just like this. C’mon, darlin, lemme see you.” The combination of his words and his wide eyes gazing up at her send her falling right over the edge of pleasure. She comes with a harsh gasp of his name, fluttering around his fingers as he works her through it.

He pulls away, shifting up the bed until he’s caging in her heaving body, stealing messy kisses tinged with the taste of her. She brings her trembling hands to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt until he gets the hint, sitting back to quickly shuck his pants down his legs. His cock is hot and stiff where it rests against the plush of her thigh, she can practically feel him throbbing.

“Joel, need you so bad. Want you– wanna feel you–” he quiets her murmurs with another kiss before fisting himself and sliding the head of his cock through her folds, hissing at the contact. She whimpers when he starts to press into her and he immediately stills, worried eyes darting to hers. She cups his face in her palm, stroking his jaw reassuringly.

“It’s ok– just need it gentle, baby.” He hums, turning to press a kiss to the middle of her palm.

“I’ve got you, darlin. Wanna make you feel good.” He’s slow and careful as he rocks into her, laying kisses on her lips with each little gasp she lets out as he shifts deeper inside of her. When their hips finally meet, they both let out ragged sighs, and he presses his forehead to the top of her sternum, panting hard into her skin.

“Fuck, I missed you– I’m not gonna last long, darlin– feels too good– always so good for me.” She grazes her nails down his back, letting out a sigh of his name.

“Need you to move, Joel– please, baby– just wanna feel you–” he presses a kiss to the dip between her collar bones before pulling out, languidly rolling his hips back into hers in a way that has them both gasping. She crooks her leg up along his hip, spreading herself open for him to press deeper as he finds a steady rhythm of push and pull. They move well together, just like they always have, her hips canting up into his with each thrust as they swallow each other’s sighs and moans in a mess of kisses. Joel brings one of his hands down to the softness of her stomach, fingers circling her clit.

“Will you come for me, darlin? Fuck– please, honey– need to feel you.” It doesn’t take much more for her to dissolve around him, digging her nails into the sliding muscles of his back as he fucks her through it. She hisses when he pulls out, watching dazed as he strokes himself over her before painting his spend across her heaving stomach. Joel flops down beside her as they both catch their racing heartbeats. She turns her head to look at him, a grin crooking across her face.

“Still got it, huh, old man?” He huffs out a laugh, turning onto his side to draw her in for a kiss.

“Still got it, mama.”

After getting cleaned up, they may have only gotten an hour of sleep before their girl woke them both up with a cry, but it had certainly been worth it.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #unexpected expectings

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

Misty Eyes ~ Part 2

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past)

Word Count: 3377

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Law can't trust you yet, so you do everything you can to prove yourself. Will your memories help or hurt you?

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying writing Law in multiple fics, so I can slap different vibes on him like he's trying on different shades of eyeliner 😅

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Other Additional Tags to be Added, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, young master! You–”

“Now, now, Y/N. What did I tell you? You’re my pretty little thing now, so you get to call me Doffy, alright?”

His large hand cupped your face, warming your cheek that was already warm from his attention.

He’s smiling at me now. I’m special to him. I mean something to him, finally.

“Well? Are you going to answer my question properly?”

Doffy’s hand traveled down to your neck, long fingers circling your vulnerable flesh as he waited for you to obey him.

“Yes. I love you, Doffy.”

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N?”

Law repeated your name softly until you returned, finding yourself in that metal room, a shrine dedicated to his hatred and rage.

“I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” Law rasped, dipping his face to meet your eyes. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through all these years…”

His brows pinched together when he caught your grimace, and his shoulders slumped.

Guilt pulled at his features, while you tried to understand which of the emotions inside you were worth focusing on.

“I shouldn’t have asked you that–”

“I don’t know,” you confessed. Your voice was empty, as if a machine were spilling truths instead of your own lips.

“I did love him. I know I did,” you continued, staring a hole through Law’s wooden desk. “I’ve been… feeling guilty for a while. Why am I not feeling that anymore?”

Your misty eyes looked up, almost pleading with him for an answer.

“Loving Doffy is the only thing I’m good at. The only reason he needs me. What use am I–”

“You are worth more than what he takes from you,” he growled, your eyes widening until the mist turned to tears.

Law relaxed his shoulders again, releasing a breath. Those tattooed hands cupped your cheeks, and you sighed as his thumbs wiped away your show of weakness.

“Y/N,” he soothed, his lips quirking before he continued. He dropped his hands away, and you missed their warmth, especially as those golden eyes hardened again.

“I don’t want to keep you prisoner, but as much as I'd like to, I can’t trust you yet.”

Nodding, you tried not to shake as fear rolled back over you.

“I can’t risk this mission. It’s not safe for me to leave you somewhere on your own. But if I let you roam the Polar Tang, interact with my crew… Especially when you can sneak into any room you like–”

“I would never,” you choked out, reaching for one of his hands on the desk. “Please, Law. I won’t betray you, I swear.”

He squeezed your hand in return, but shook his head.

“I want to believe you, Y/N. But we both know the power he has over people. You might not think you’d betray me now, but he’s been in your head your whole life.”

The weight of loneliness pressed your body down, your hand going limp in his. He squeezed it a few more times until you looked up again.

“If you're willing to trust me,” he started, his eyes a bit wide, “I have a way to make sure that I can trust you. It won’t hurt–”

“Hurt,” you whispered, wetting your dry lips as you waited for whatever he wanted to do to you.

“I can remove your heart,” he explained, pulling a key from his pocket to unlock the large bottom drawer of his desk.

With all of the gruesome things you’d seen in your life, you were surprised at the gasp you let out. Law had pulled something from the drawer, holding it up so that you could take a look.

It was a strange cube, almost glowing with blueish pink light. It looked squishy, and you reached out to touch it before you noticed the steady pulse. It was a beating heart.

“So that story is true,” you breathed as you watched it in fascination, “you really did steal all of those pirate’s hearts.”

“I did,” he nodded grimly, tucking that heart back into the drawer. “I’ve done a lot of things to prepare for this goal.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You–”

“Take my heart. It’s not helping me out anyway, it might be good to have a break,” you laughed, trying to cover the hollow sound in your words.

Law stood, and you followed suit, his powerful voice vibrating through you.

“Room.”

You watched in awe as he created a blue sphere of light to fill the space before coming toward you with his sword.

“This is just a precaution,” he explained, his breath going heavy. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I'll protect you.”

“I trust you,” you admitted before you held your breath.

You couldn’t follow all of the emotions that crossed his face, until he drained them all away. He looked at you as if you were just a problem to be solved. A loose end to tie up to make sure his plan would succeed.

His sunny eyes were as cold and distant as the vacuum of space when he held the tip of his blade to your chest.

“Scalpel.”

You couldn’t remember the last time a weapon had hurt you. There was no need to worry about being injured in battle when you hadn’t left the castle in so long.

Doffy was the only one that could hurt you, besides the sea and its stone.

Nothing could cut through mist.

Law was so confident in his ability that you hadn’t questioned him. Instead, you tried to cooperate, somehow willing your body to stay solid so he could rip you open.

But the blade at your chest seemed as weak as your own abilities.

Until it pierced your flesh.

“You’re okay,” Law assured you as he pressed further, your gasping breaths slowing as you realized there was no pain.

“Would you like to hold it?”

Such a strange feeling, gazing at your own beating heart. The very core of your being, the thing that keeps you alive.

Sitting in the palm of your hand like a piece of fruit.

“What happens if I squeeze it?”

“It would hurt very– Y/N, stop!”

Law pulled your heart from your grasp as you fell to your knees. The pain was indescribable, radiating from your chest through your whole body, as if your veins were on fire. Nausea came as the pain burned through you, and you leaned your forehead against his desk as he knelt beside you.

“Why would you do that,” he questioned, almost scolding you like he would when you were kids.

“Most things can’t hurt me,” you choked out, tilting your head up to see his grumpy face. “I was just curious.”

He frowned before sitting on the floor beside you, pushing the chair out of his way as he looked you over.

“How are you feeling, Y/N? Have you been having thoughts of harming yourself?”

“What? No,” you exclaimed, sitting straight as the pain started to fade. “I promise, I just… I don’t know. I’ve never been handed my own fucking heart before. It was like an impulse.”

“You’ll tell me if you start having thoughts like that,” he requested after a pause, making you squirm with embarrassment.

“I promise, I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

Law helped you to your feet, then gripped your shoulder until you were caught in his serious glare.

“That was a stupid thing to do, but you are not stupid.”

You scrunched your face up, and sat down, itching to forget everything that happened in the last hour.

“This is just a precaution,” he repeated, locking your heart in that bottom drawer. You tried not to stare as he tucked the key into his pocket, but a sick taste of guilt hit your tongue.

I wouldn't need a key to steal my heart back. I could just mist into the drawer, and absorb it.

You gulped down the pressure to confess, to tell him to hide it somewhere else.

I’m not gonna steal it back, but I don’t know him anymore. I should be careful.

“Now,” Law cleared his throat, picking up his notepad again, “do you know anything about Doflamingo’s dealings with Kaidou?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. Everything just felt blank.

“I don’t… I’m not important enough to know anything,” you explained, the words burning your throat on the way out. “I’m sorry, I probably won’t be able to help much.”

Law sat back in his chair, tapping his pen against his lips while he assessed you.

I’m still fucking useless.

‘Can’t do anything on your own, huh? Just listen to Doffy, you’ll be the perfect little doll for me, alright?’

“Were you with him a lot?”

“What,” you coughed, your skin flushing to the tips of your ears.

“No, I– that’s not what I…” Law sighed, shaking his head to clear his own words away. “Did he have you with him throughout the day? During meals, maybe while he took calls or meetings?”

“Oh,” you said softly, noticing yourself going fuzzy again, staring into nothing as you tried to recall.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“I mean no offense, Joker, but shouldn’t we be discussing this in private?”

“Oh, don’t mind her, Caesar,” Doffy laughed, rubbing his hand over your back as you lounged in his lap. “She can’t do any harm.”

The scientist frowned at you for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was wearing makeup, or if his skin really was that pale, his lips almost purple. He met your eyes before shifting his own away from you, and away from Doffy’s fingers that trailed over your thighs, your neck.

Doffy always touched you so gently when visitors were around, and you melted into him.

If not for Caesar’s grating laugh, you might have drifted off. Instead, you jolted now and then, Doffy’s hands clutching a little tighter.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Are you al–”

“I remember something. Doffy sent Monet with a scientist, this weird guy with–”

“Caesar Clown,” he prompted, his brow arching a bit.

“Yeah. And I guess you wouldn’t know Monet, she joined after you…”

Law pointed to a picture on the wall, your gaze slow in following the gesture.

“I know of her.”

Your eyes were drawn to a shot of Monet, her wings curled around her as she read a book with those odd, hypnotizing glasses of hers. Memories of her disapproval hit you, a sigh escaping your lips as you tried to rid yourself of her judgments.

“She’s even more loyal to Doffy than the rest of– than everyone else. She’s almost obsessive. That’s probably why he sent her.”

Law’s body had gone taut, like electricity was running through him as he set his pen to the paper.

“Please, Y/N, tell me everything you can remember. Even if it doesn’t seem important.”

Your brain felt like a wet rag, with Law wringing out every detail of every call or meeting you could think of.

It seemed strange how much you could recall from your quiet perch on his lap. You were always so bored, but had to fight yourself not to space out or yawn.

Doffy’s possessive fingers along your skin were wonderful, your revealing clothing giving him so much access. As bored as you could get, those teasing touches in front of visitors prepared your body for what came later.

It was a relief to wet his thigh with slick before he dismissed the guests. He rarely had the patience to prep you any other way.

You’d spaced out on those memories, Law’s face pinching in concern as he watched your nails digging into your arms.

“Are you hungry? We can continue tomorrow.”

Groaning at the thought, you followed Law back to the galley. He didn’t have much luck in calming his crew this time. They surrounded the two of you until Law begrudgingly introduced you, and your hand was shaken by many greasy, steamy hands pulled out of gloves, and one bear’s paw that you were very hesitant to touch.

“I’m sorry about what I said before,” Bepo drawled, true sadness seeming to drip from his voice. “I just really love our cap–”

“Bepo,” Law scolded, and you turned to scold him back as the bear scurried off.

“How could you be so mean, did you see his–”

“Don’t fall for his sad bear eyes,” Law bristled, and you held in your smile at his discomfort.

“Is that something you’ve learned from experience,” you teased, earning you a scowl.

Law tucked into his meal, not meeting your eyes as he replied.

“I know my crew.”

“Oh yeah? They all seem to think you’re the most wonderful man in the world. Could the Surgeon of Death be a big softie?”

If looks could kill.

“Okay, sorry,” you teased between bites, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You do realize that I could take away your tongue if I wanted to,” he threatened, with what looked like the barest touch of pink gracing his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d enjoy some alone time with it.”

Law raised his brows as you clamped your hand over your mouth, your face going hot. He looked too smug, his lips curling as if trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” you choked out, putting your misty hands in your lap.

“I’m not the one whose tongue keeps wagging,” he taunted, somehow keeping that stoic air about him, just a hint of playfulness showing through.

You stuck that tongue out at him before focusing on your meal, and the low chuckle he let escape was hardly noticeable over the nearby conversations of his crew.

But you noticed it.

Warmth tingled through your body, and your face was still burning by the time he led you to your room.

“Will you be alright in here,” he checked in, standing outside the door to the small room he’d set up for you in the barracks. “The crew are on rotating shifts, so there will always be someone sleeping or getting ready nearby if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you said in a small voice. The realization that you were about to be alone in a cramped, metal room made your skin crawl.

“Are you o—“

“I’ll be fine. Thank you,” you lied with a smile. You were good at lying with smiles.

“Okay,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “I’ll, uh… I’ll come wake you in the morning, alright? We can have breakfast before we continue going over what you remember.”

“Sounds good,” you chirped. Your cheeks started to hurt as you waved him out, letting your muscles relax after he’d closed that heavy door.

Quiet.

Not completely. Clanging sounds of the sub interrupted the stillness. Soft voices floated in the hallway beyond that door.

But now that you were alone…

Thoughts. Memories. Fear. Shame. Guilt.

Falling back on the single bed, you choked out silent sobs, the flood of emotions slamming into you. You had left your world, dove off the edge of a waterfall, but now you were caught beneath the crashing water, drowning while your body was ripped apart.

What have I done? How could I leave the family? How could I betray Doffy?

I’m nothing but scum. Useless my whole life, and now I’m a traitor.

Your mind went in endless loops. Gratitude for Law taking you away. Guilt for betraying the family. Relief that you weren’t stuck in that mindless existence anymore. Terror that Doffy would find and kill you both slowly.

It hurt. Your whole body hurt, your head pounding like the clanging metal of the submarine.

And you couldn’t understand how you could feel your heart breaking and burning in your chest when it was locked up in Law’s office.

“Y/N, can I come in?”

His knock had sent you to the ceiling, your body spread into cowardly mist while you tried to calm down.

“Y/N,” he checked again, concern staining his voice.

“Just a second,” you stalled, going solid in front of the door. You shook yourself, wiped your tears, and took a few quiet breaths before opening the door with another beaming smile.

“What’s up?”

Law didn’t look at you like an old friend, an enemy, or a captain on a mission.

He looked at you like a doctor, and you tried not to squirm.

“What’s that,” you pointed to the lump of shiny fabric he held under one arm.

He coughed, looking down at his shoes before returning your gaze, seeming to rebuild that doctor persona.

“You’ve been through an intense amount of trauma, and the shock of… If you would feel comfortable, I’d like to sleep on the floor in here tonight, just to make sure you’re okay. I could sleep outside the door if you prefer, I just—“

He glanced down at your clenched fists, and you tried to relax them as he continued.

“I want you to feel safe.”

I’ll never be safe. I’m a traitor. I’m weak. I’ll be tortured before they kill me.

Doffy will…

The lump in your throat burned, and you filled the room with thick mist so he wouldn’t see you shatter, sinking to the floor as you clawed at your empty chest.

Law closed the door, calling your name as he moved blindly toward you. You could feel him in your mist, and you could have avoided him. You could have let yourself expand into tiny droplets of water, keeping yourself away from any care or comfort he could try to provide.

But you couldn’t think. Just heave silent sobs, and struggle through breaths that took in more mist than oxygen.

“Y/N– fuck,” he cursed, stubbing his toe on the bed as he waved his arms around slowly.

The mist told you that he’d gone to his knees, crawling close to you in the small space, but you couldn’t do anything with that knowledge.

Warm fingers found your arm, pressing lightly along to figure out what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry I’m touching you, I just need to make sure you’re alright,” he breathed, tracing along your shaking body until he found your neck. His fingers almost burned your clammy skin as he took your pulse before gripping your shoulder gently.

The way that you could see through your eyes was different than how you could see as mist, or through the mist you create, but you had no way to describe the difference. Through the mist, you saw him lean close, his head above yours as if he could see through the mist too.

“I’m here. I’m right here with you, Y/N.”

Time was impossible to track as you alternated between crying and dissociating, Law’s calm presence never wavering. Eventually, your mist cleared up, from exhaustion instead of choice.

He lifted your limp body, tucking you into the small bed before rolling out his sleeping bag.

“You don’t have to sta–”

Law interrupted your slurred words with a harsh glare, but sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

His eyes seemed brighter in this dim room, his voice too soft, yet firm.

Staring into nothing, you felt numbness trying to take you again, but words jumped out of you before you drifted away.

“Why does it still hurt,” you accused, tapping against your chest with angry fingers, desperate to rip these feelings out. “You took my heart, Law. Why does it still hurt so bad?”

Somehow, more hot tears fell, your body too weak to keep tearing at the hole inside.

Law’s eyes trailed away, gone to some other time, some other place. When he came back to you, he took your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“If I could cure a broken heart, I wouldn’t be able to complete my mission.”

His words felt as hollow as your chest. You managed to squeeze his hand, pulling in his distant eyes.

“So we can be broken together then,” you asked, your voice still hoarse as your lips lifted into a weak smile.

Law huffed a laugh, lifting your fingers to his lips before kissing his promise onto your skin.

“Broken together.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I knew I was going to go crazy when I started writing for Law, and I was correct. I'm obsessed with this emotionally wrecked man 🖤

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 3

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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sinfulsalutations · 11 months

Text

𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕕𝕠 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕒𝕣𝕔 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕠

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴇᴄʜᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴇᴄʜᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ: ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ’ᴅ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ɪɴꜱɪꜱᴛꜱ ʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴀɴ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ/ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴏɴɢ ʜᴀɪʀ, ᴇᴄʜᴏ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ!

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 3.7ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ/ɪ’ᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ - ɢʀᴏᴜᴘᴇʀ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴅᴏ - ʜᴏᴢɪᴇʀ, ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴀꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴄʟᴀɪʀᴏ, ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ - ᴀʟᴇxᴀɴᴅʀᴀ ꜱᴀᴠɪᴏʀ

⋆ ★ ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴅ ɢᴜʏꜱ ɪᴍ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴀᴏ3 ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴀ ʜᴏᴢɪᴇʀ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ʟᴍᴀᴏᴏ. ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ'ᴅ, ʟᴏᴡ-ᴋᴇʏ ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴀʙᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴛᴠ, ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴄᴜᴢ ᴍʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴇᴄʜᴏ :((((( ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ 🤍

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

“We can make this work.”

The room instantly stills with her insistence; a claustrophobic air of expectation surrounds Echo as her eyes, the eyes he thought he’d never see again, look at him like he is the same person she fell in love with.

The same man who proudly showed off his ARC kit and flexed his muscles jokingly because of a lame tip Fives had given him. Who made out with her a couple of corridors away from General Skywalker, so enraptured in their heavy petting they didn’t even notice when he’d banged on the door for them to get out. The same man who kissed her goodbye for the last time before going off the citadel on a life-risking mission.

How can she not see that the person standing in front of her isn’t the Echo she used to love?

Damp eyes plead silently and she takes a small step forward, reaching out her arms almost like she wanted to engulf him in a warm embrace. But Echo steps away and oh-so softly shakes his head, all to ease her down gently.

She tilts her head; he can't stop himself before he's grimacing.

Kriff, does his heart want to break; it wants to shatter. He can’t bear the thought of what he has to tell her. Not when she’s even more beautiful than before, incredibly pained yet exponentially mature with the years of his absence etched onto her face.

She looks exhausted, awaiting any moment she'll be allowed to retire. Not just his death, but the lives of so many of his brothers have weighted her back, turned her into another tragic story of Atlas. Echo can't dare imagine adding more for her to carry on her shoulders.

“No, cyare, I don’t think you understand,” Echo tells her, eyes darting from his hands to her face. “I’m- I’m not the trooper you met all those years ago.”

Her face contorts, eyebrows pushing together with her head tilted to the side. He grunts in frustration at the back of his throat, squeezing her hand softly for emphasis as he talks.

“Just look at me,” He pleads. “I’m more karkin’ battle droid than human. You- You don’t want me.”

It’s unsettling, how she looks at him. Still lovestruck in a fantasy even after what he's said. Echo cranes his neck.

“It–” His voice dies when the first word forces itself out; he grunts softly and scrunches his eyes, trying to compose his thoughts better. It's overwhelming; never in a thousand years did he think this would happen. That he’d be in her apartment again; that he’d get to see her again. And that she’d still want him.

“It isn’t fair on you,” He finally manages to say.

The expression on her face Echo isn’t able to read. He used to be so good at telling what she was thinking.

Now she perplexes him; just like everything else in this new life of his.

“Why-why would you think you’re not good enough for me?” How her voice sounds more choked than his, Echo isn’t sure; but it still seizes his heartbeat all the same.

He hadn’t noticed before, but her hands have slowly separated themselves from where they held his and reached up, hovering over his face, shaking slightly in the air as she waits for his permission to continue. He gives it, nonverbally, with a dip of his chin, despite everything supposedly logical in his head saying he shouldn’t allow it.

As her hand cups his cheek, elegant and warm against his skin, he grimaces painfully with a creased brow.

“Because–” He begins, losing his argument the longer he thinks it over. “I said it already. None of this is fair on you.”

“What’s ‘this’?” She responds immediately. To anyone else, she might’ve seemed confused, an ignorant, greedy, and impatient lover who isn’t listening to him. But in her presence again, he picks up on her little mannerisms, her patterns of behavior. It’s a comforting sensation. One of familiarity.

Will he learn how to read her mind again? Only time can tell him, Echo promptly concludes.

“This body,” He responds without a single stammer. Echo wants to look her in the eyes and give her the assurance she needs, but instead, they dart back and forth with uncertainty.

“This life with me, this–“ He groans, the back of his throat dry. “We can’t be normal, cyare.”

A meek ‘pfft’ noise falls past her lips, eyes fluttering up and down in what seems as though a measly attempt at an eye roll.

“We’ve never been normal,” She responds.

Echo frowns far too automatically. Tragically? in part, she isn’t wrong. Allowing yourself to fall for a soldier and let him into your life isn't easy, even for the most tough-willed. Nights when he'd return bloodied and bruised unearth themselves from his clouded memory, and fragments of moments where she'd try to muffle her quiet sobs of relief, wiping away her tears as he held her tight in his arms recur beside them. She constantly lived with a fear he'd never return, and even that came true. His shoulders heave.

“Maybe we haven’t, but-but you know what I mean,” he persists with complete seriousness. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “I can’t give you the life you deserve.” He gestures to the space around them, the space between them. “One with the perfect, handsome husband and a family and a house.”

When she shrugs, leaning in further and cupping his cheek, he holds back the wry face he wants to flash; she pushes him backward, further into her room, closer to the bed; he still has her layout memorized and etched into his retention. It's one of the only things that the Separatists didn't extract from his brain.

"I don't want 'perfect,'" She makes air quotations in the air as she says that, thinking of the ideal life Echo had illustrated for her. "I want you. I want you just as much as I did before."

He frowns.

"Even with all this?" A hand hovers over hers, gesturing for her to look, really look at the body he has, the metal and the circuits and the superficialness of it all. She gazes for a moment before looking up again.

"If I'm to be completely honest..." She begins, moving so their chests are so close to touching, so close to pressing together so they become one person again, one entity of pure love and adoration. Perhaps those feelings can be revoked unchanged, an optimistic shadow of Echo hopes. "It makes me love you more."

Before he can beg the question how?, she's already continuing. Her other hand reaches up and cups his face endearingly.

"It shows everyone, even me, how strong you are," She marvels innocently, yet undeniably heartwarming. A sting of pain stakes throug his stomach. "My brave ARC trooper who went through and hell and back, and still came back just as wonderful."

His gaze drifts down again; somehow, her words make him even more terrified of looking into her eyes. What if, one day, she looks into his eyes, and doesn’t see that? Sees what he does, a broken figment of a man, a clone who failed his purpose, a soldier who can’t follow orders, no matter how hard they try. And then all this love he’s undeservingly graced with will be gone in just an instant. How selfish of him.

"Just as wonderful..." She still continues. "Just as handsome."

His eyebrows push together, and she pulls him down to kiss where his creases meet; she is a splendor of honey and healing between them in ways he never knew possible. Echo's eyes widen suddenly when he feels her lips against his, for the first time in what felt like a thousand eternities. Something in that moment is stilled; and for a fraction, everything is good. Everything is perfect.

"You're beautiful, Echo," She whispers against him. Her forehead comes to rest where he dips down. His eyes are still closed, but he can picture how she might look quite well. Eyes filled with adoration and hope, hope he so desperately wants her to share with him.

"How-" He begins, choking slightly; his eyes shut harder. If he focuses hard enough, he can't feel her touch; the touch he feels so undeserving of. "How can you say that so easily?"

There’s a thin, unmeaningful pause in the air.

"It's second nature," She responds effortlessly. Her hand strokes his cheek, slowly lulling him to open his eyes and look, don't think, just look. "And because I love you."

And at that moment, he falls apart. Something in him, his lungs perhaps, collapses under the sudden pressure he's pulled into. It's a type of pressure he wants to be under, no doubt about it–he wants to be loved, to be held like this no matter what the sensible part of him thinks–but it remains a slow, painful strangling.

His eyes shut close again and a sob ruptures at the back of his throat, thyroid straining. He leans into her without thinking of the crushing weight– not a step he consciously realizes he's taken, but one nonetheless. Her hands hold his face entirely; how she can be so incredibly firm and keep him so steady, Echo doesn't understand. None of this he can fully comprehend.

Another sob is ripped out of him.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Echo tells her, hushed and sorrowful between two quiet sniffles. "Your voice- I used to play the sound of your voice every day."

"I know, I know," She whispers back, nodding as he talks. Echo isn't lost entirely to pick up on how the words don't match her feelings; she didn't know, and her heart bounds to be swelling with overwhelming adoration. He knows hearing this means the entire galaxy to her; she missed him so, so much.

Why does he feel so much pain then?

He peels open his eyes, blinking away the litter of tears over his face, and allows himself to encircle her waist; they're already so close, and why Echo feels so nervous to simply touch her is puzzling

The softness in her eyes is something powerful. More powerful than a lightsaber-wielding Jedi or the most prepped battleship. Any remaining tolerance he has left completely dissolves under waves of matured, pained, yet beautiful love. Because he can’t deny how much he loves her. How much she makes him feel. That’s a power the Separatists will never have on him.

"Stay the night?" She then asks gently, caressing his cheek. Echo gulps hoarsely as he realizes how long he’d been holding his breath, then nods desperately.

"–If you'll allow me."

She's been in the `fresher for forty-five minutes now.

Told him to 'Get comfortable, I'll be out soon,' and 'You've slept over so many times before, don't feel like a guest,' but he sits stiff atop of the bed, still in denial that this is home. That it's still home after forced abandon. An oh-so-familiar feeling he hasn’t felt in so long rushes through him; its not as comforting as he’d hope it’d be.

Echo can hear her breathing, her soft humming of a lullaby she once confided that her mother always used to sing to her. The same one she sang lowly into his ear when he woke up in a cold sweat, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he held her and crooned to him like a sickly child.

Nightly tire seeps into his eyes, heaves his chest and Echo allows himself to breathe all the way down to his stomach. His lungs feel metallic, just as robotic as the rest of him as he awaits her to come out again. She never takes this long. At least, she never used to. Always efficient and makes so well with her time to keep her water and electric bills down.

Anxieties sweep through. She doesn't want to leave. Can't bear to see him sitting there on her bed again. She regrets her decision. She doesn't love him, she never did, she never will, she...

The door opens. She peaks through her head, a pleading softness etched into her.

"Echo?" She calls out to him.

"Yeah?" Her eyes scan him up and down, and Echo realizes how misplaced he looks. He hasn't sat down completely on the bed yet, his hands on his thighs and his posture perfectly composed, comfortably uncomfortable and so out of place. At least that's how he feels.

"Would you please brush my hair?"

A fond memory rushes through like a wave of warm water. She hates brushing her own hair. Always whines as she tries to untangle all the knots and always asks him to do it for her. The faintest smile graces Echo’s features.

“Of course, cyare.”

She grins softly. He tilts his head slightly.

“What?” He asks, incredulous.

“I missed your voice so much,” She recalls with a nostalgic glint in her eye. “The way you called me cyare.”

His only response is a soft grunt of agreement; he feels the exact same way. He missed the way her voice wrapped around a note, let out a laugh discreetly when she shouldn’t have been amused, hold onto a gasp or relief when he came through the door bruised and bloodied. Everything about it lost in the cryochamber and restored the moment he sits face to face with her now.

Swiftly, he beckons her over and lets her sit beside him, turning her back to him and handing him the brush. The moment he takes it and lets it sift through her hair, the softest moan is coerced out of her lips and she leans back into his touch.

Wordlessly, he continues to brush her wet hair. There's a level of intimacy that can't be reached with skin against skin, heavy pants as he roots himself deep inside of her; they can't reach this level of trust, where her back can be turned against her and allowed to control her vanity. Even after going through hell and back disheveled–half a man, she puts her reliance in him without hesitation.

“I missed this,” He admits in a hushed, almost shameful exhale.

A soft chuckle comes out of her. Somehow, she sounds disbelieved.

”Putting up with my little hissy fits about my hair?” She jests.

He answers with full certainty.

”More than you’ll ever know, cyare.”

She sighs delicately.

”Have I ever told you how much I like that nickname?” She asks.

Echo tilts his head, stopping his hand movements for a split second.

”Cyare?”

She nods.

”I remember the first time you called me that like it was yesterday.”

Echo hums under his breath, continuing to brush her hair. He rakes his brain for the memory she seems to remember so well, eyebrows knitting in focus.

”…I’ve forgotten.”

She nods again, void of maliciousness.

“I was completely wasted at 79’s,” She retells the story for him. “‘Was wobbling and knocking things over. You walked me home and made sure I was okay… and called me that when you were helping me up.”

The image comes to him. Her loopy smile as he attempts to wrap her arm over his shoulder, trying not to enjoy her helplessness too much as he helps her get up and leave 79’s, muttering into her ear softly, ‘Let’s get you home, cyare.’

”…I remember now,” Echo says.

Her hair shifts, head perking up.

”Oh?”

Echo mutters a soft ‘yeah,’ struggling to simultaneously grab all of her hair into a hand and brush it into the palm with the scomp link on his other arm. Even when he tries to do something from his life before, things have changed. Made menially more difficult.

”You asked me to kiss you at your doorstep…” He continues the story, a melancholic tone of recall plaguing him before he can stop himself.

Her head tilts again. It’s making it more difficult for him to brush her hair better, but he doesn’t mind.

”And you said no because I was drunk and not in my right mind…” She fills in the next sentence.

”…And I thought you would regret it the next day," He finishes, running a hand through her hair with finality. She turns her head, wrapping all of her neatly brushed hair to a shoulder and giving him a soft grin.

”I hope you know I wouldn’t have," She says.

He nods, allowing himself to soften further into the bed, borderline beamish.

“Still wouldn’t have kissed a drunk girl.”

The room basks in her sunlit smile. She leans in, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting on his shoulders, and Echo doesn't flinch. He expected to, with how wary and uncertain and unworthy he felt (and still feels) in her mere presence, but he doesn't flinch and it's so damn relieving he wants to cry in a mixture of joy and pain. Kriff, doesn't she look perfect, he dares to think. Isn't everything about her just... perfect. What did I do to deserve her?

She leans in further, pulling him down to meet her in the middle, their foreheads pressing against each other firmly. Her starry eyes carry unrealistic visions but he loves the dream inside them. She smiles, a breathy exhale shared between the little space they share, and she shakes her head without real purpose.

”Ever the gentleman," She mutters.

Echo's the one to make the final motion. He plunges down and captures her bottom lip between his, not even hesitating to embosom her waist with his hand. The upward curl of her lips is so prominent against his mouth; a sickly sweet happiness seeps and exudes off of her and into him. It flows through his veins, seizes his heart for a moment and Echo can't help but gasp. But it's swallowed by her own kiss. They both enrapture each other.

Even then, they revel in the languid motions they can take. Selfishly, Echo decides he wants more of her. All of her, if she'll allow it. He sucks in her bottom lip, parting his and swiping his tongue over hers in the way he always used to do, the way that made her squeak softly in a breathy gasp. She makes the sound again and his life is made in an instant.

The dam waters can’t be held back anymore; worldly anxieties no longer tether him to realism. All that matters is the two of them and the pure love they can have.

Echo squeezes her waist firmly and she breaks away with a smile.

”Didn’t think you’d do that,” She says lowly into his mouth. He only shrugs because her assumption may have been correct; he wasn’t expecting to kiss her.

“Me neither,” He admits aloud. She chuckles silently before kissing him again, making him crane his back to fully reach her the way he wants to. Something in him has been carnally ignited when she lets him hold her and kiss her like this; a feeling he hadn’t experienced in what felt like an eternity since he last saw her is unearthed. He needs all of it; needs all of her again.

He adjusts the two of them, moving her knees to spread her legs apart, and places himself between them; he beckons her to the center of the mattress, his scomp link aside and leaning on his elbow. His hand creeps up her neck into the back of her hair, grounding her into place as Echo allows himself to take.

But when she sighs and her eyes flutter close, he pulls away.

”Does it stand?” The words come out so softly and without structure, Echo is sure she didn’t mean for it to come out.

”What do you mean?” He asks after a moment.

”Is… does it stand the test of time?” Her hands hover over his shoulders now, fingers tentatively and timorously resting on thin air. She's gesturing to the two of them, talking about how this feels, how she feels, if it's okay, if he's satisfied; she treads just as carefully as he did just a few moments before. “The- the test of change?”

What test? The question wishes to beg in his mind. But it doesn't because Echo feels the tug as well. The claustrophobic worry that his anxieties inevitably are true; she won't want him the moment their lips meet again.

"It does for me," He takes a leap into faith. He could carry the same fears and insecurities dear to his chest, or he could look into her eyes and see for himself how she feels. He does; he wants to cry.

She looks so happy. Her eyes crinkling at the corners and her lips spread wide into a blinding smile, she holds her chest softly, as if beckoning for her heart to still. She lets out a small sigh of respite, lifting her arms again to pull him down. When she kisses him, it's drowning in reverence. Drowning in relief.

"Me too," She whispers against his mouth, before seizing his lips again. His eyes scrunch hard against her, as if he’s trying hard to imagine a different world where they can be like this forever. He creates it almost effortlessly. The tenseness in his muscles weaken.

Since Echo was rescued, his chest has ached. His whole body reacted poorly to the prosthetics, each step painful and unworthy of existence. It's slowly subsided, but he feels the ache's hold on him weaken even more. Her simple touch fills empty sockets of his being; so violently stripped of him before, now returned in loving arms.

In the split moments, in their faint beautiful existence, he falls in love again. He kisses her and holds her tight and whispers how damn bad he missed her. The world narrows into a space only the two of them can fit, a galaxy where they can love each other in absolute peace and solitude.

Like real people do.

dividers by @saradika ~ tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch

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writersundersiege · 3 months

Text

The New Girl in Town Pt 5

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

a/n: Woah, okay, so this one is a little longer. One, it’s formatted differently; it gives you more perspective of what’s happening. Also, I’m trying to follow Rafe's season one character arc and overall story, knowing now you guys are enjoying the series. I know where I want to go now, but if you guys don’t like how long this is, let me know, and I’ll free-write it and go based on my arc for him and the characters, not on canon events. Please let me know what you think; much love and enjoy!

Summary: The hurricane has hit the Outerbanks, and with a storm that’s torn up Kilandre, emotions seem to be on high. Rafe is still trying to recover from you walking out without saying anything to him. In contrast, you prepare to attend your first Boneyard Kegger. What happens when everything goes wrong? Who do you call when there is no one else to turn to in your town? Will anyone show up when you need them?

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Storms, grief, death, insinuation of sexual themes, violence, weapons, swearing, drug use, and drug abuse, as well as some slight talks of addiction.

After receiving a text, Rafe sits up thinking about yesterday, and his eyes widen, thinking only of the generators now. He scrambles to text a few of his Kook friends to see if anyone can help a man out when Kelce speedily responds that he’s got him; no worries and was planning on dropping by with Topper anyway for Sarah, but they’ll come to help him first.

Half an hour later, Topper and Kelce are helping Rafe quickly set up a generator, but little does he know you are just around the corner because the day before, Scooter had helped the Cameron family storm prep for their boat. Still, before going to Tannyhill, Scooter had helped Charlie prep The Hut since it was your dad's first big hurricane.

Ward was cleaning up fallen tree branches when he heard his name called out, “Hello, Mr.Cameron.” he looked up to see a girl he didn’t know with a worrisome look on your face and holding Lana, Scooter's wife, gently rubbing her shoulder. Ward stood to be able to see you both fully.

Ward quickly leads Lana to Sarah, and you let her know you’ll wait out front to take her wherever she may need to go; she shakes her head and walks off with Ward. As you stand to wait, one of the yard workers takes his opportunity to saunter toward you and strike up a conversation.

Little to your knowledge from below, but standing on the edge of the balcony near the side of the house were Rafe and his friends looking down on you as you laughed and conversed with the boy, probably a few years older than you.

As Rafe watched you in pure bliss, seeming to enjoy the conversation between you, he felt himself brimming with annoyance when suddenly, your head quickly wiped to the front door not far from the boys standing on the balcony just below them to the side.

The three boys watch as you abandon the ongoing conversation with the yard worker boy to take the spot right at Lana’s shoulder; this makes Rafe smirk, watching the boy's displeased face watch you.

Heedlessly to the boy, you walk with Lana back to the road, patting her back and smiling softly at her; they can’t make out what exactly you’re saying, but they all equally watch as you disappear, as usual, into the horizon line, taking a glimpse of the sunlight in your wake until you randomly appear again.

The rest of the day, Rafe didn’t see or hear from you, but he assumed, with how bad the storm was and all the cleanup, that you had other worries than explaining running out on him.

Technically, he’s nothing more than another boy on the new island you call home. These thoughts make him unsound and intolerable. So he glances at the sea momentarily, wondering if you are also glancing at the rolling waves.

Rafe had been doing meaningless things to fill the time; he received a few texts from friends and past hooks-ups about the kegger at the boneyard and another party not too far from Top’s House, and Rafe didn’t want to go to either; he sat and thought for a while, and he then decided to grab some coke from Barry, and then he’ll head out to ride his bike around and clear his head or play a round of golf at the Country Club.

By the time Rafe got ready to waste time, he had thought about maybe stopping by the boneyard; he knew if it were a kegger, there would be pogues swarming that place, and they always picked with shit they didn’t want in the end. He shakes his head, knowing it is ridiculous to want to go even if you are there.

It was about midday when he went downstairs, and he heard Rose and Ward talking; he rounded the kitchen corner to them, shaking their heads. “What happened?” Rafe frowns, looking at his father for more information. “Scooter Grubbs has been found dead. He was out during the hurricane; his boat went down, and he was washed into the marsh.”

Rafe checked his phone immediately to see if there was anything from you, and nothing, just a bunch of messages from Emma asking when they could see each other again; this made Rafe roll his eyes. He continued grabbing a drink from the fridge, stuffing it in his bag, heading out to the garage, and taking out his bike to head to the Cut.

On the other side of the island, you and your family had a considerable hoard of people at your house accepting water bottles and non-perishable foods at a table in your yard with your parents.

At the same time, you sat in the back of the house with Lana Grubbs, who you’ve just returned with from the marina who just lost her husband. You sit slowly, rubbing up and down her upper back, not saying anything; slow resounds of what seems to be Sparks by Coldplay are playing in the surround sound house speakers, most likely through your mom's playlist.

You don’t say anything; what do you say to her? You’ve also lost someone to those raging waves in front of you, watching with her as its tide pulls it up to shore and back out into the sea off to who knows where.

The situation you have both been through has no words to say, so you sit and listen to the music playing through the sound system, humming lightly and listening to the small crash of waves.

You think about Luca, how he never failed to be there precisely when you needed him. Without fail, if something inspired you to make something or do something new, Luca would show up with everything you needed to create what you envisioned. If you so much as thought you were bored, he was knocking at your front door asking to take you to laser tag, the movies, or on beach picnics. The day you turned fifteen, he asked you to be his Valentine.

Luca also made a tradition that year of getting you flowers on the 14th day of every month; he was always cheesy and would say, why should he only show his love one day in the year? But he did every 14th day of every month for nearly four years.

The only thing that broke you from the reminiscent thoughts of a boy you’ll never get the joy of loving again is the slight creaking of the door frame; you turn to see your brother's sad, smiling face.

“Hey, Kiddo, I’ve got to head to the airport. I’m taking Dad and the car. I just wanted to check on you girls to see if you’d like to head home or maybe the place they may have Scooter and see if they’ll let you see him. Mom called your sister, so she’s said to let her know, and she’ll meet you wherever you are.”

Lana’s head pops up, eyes completely bloodshot, looking between you and your brother, eyes resting tenderly on you, reaching to brush a piece of your (H/C) hair out of your eyes and turning to your brother, shaking her head to your brother, “I think I need to go home for a little while” She stands and starts to fold the blanket you had tossed over her shoulders when you came in.

Swiftly, you grab it from her, coaxing her towards Jason, whose hand is laid open; she looks back and forth between you two. “You two are an extraordinary pair of kids,” Jason chuckled, bringing his hand out a little further until she accepted it, and he wrapped her hand around his opposite arm to walk her out. Quietly, he told Lana, “We’re only doing what we hope others would do for us.”

Before she walked out, you called out, “Mrs. Lana!” she and Jason turned to you. You smiled sadly and said, “I hope you know you’re always welcome here for any reason, and thank you for allowing me to be there for you.”

Quickly, she walked forward to you, more tears in her eyes as she hugged you, saying, “Oh sweet girl, I hope someone gives you the world one day.” then she turned back to Jason and started walking out. Jason watches you in his perephislas to see you smile sadly while looking at the sea.

He knows where your mind is again. He turns towards Lana and quickly leads her to Charlie, standing just outside by the Impala. Charlie sees the look in Jason’s eyes as he takes her hand to help her in the car, sending his son a slight nod, and he turns on his heel and runs right back to you on the couch.

When Jason reenters the room, he sees you right where he left you. He quickly picks you up from your sitting position on the couch in a big hug, making you laugh; you go utterly limp in his arms, but hanging your arms around his neck, he sets you down.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eyes and giving you his this is serious look. “I love you, Kiddo, always okay. You need me. I’ll be on a plane the next day, but take the mantra and make it real (N/N); ride the wave, okay?” with that, he kisses the top of your head and runs out of the house before you can say anything, but now you sit smiling at the waves until your phone pings with a text.

Sarah 🎀🦋: Hey, want to come over and get ready with me? Then you can ride with Kelce?

(F/N)🗺️☀️: Sure, I think I remember him from when I moved in. I’ll be over in about 15. I am going to make a little to-go bag to get ready.

You run up the stairs to your door, throwing it open and digging under your bed for an old black Jansport backpack. In years past, it was used for traveling, so there were patches and pins from countless cities, airports, countries, and historic monuments.

One thing about your family is that traveling is what has made you the way you are. Your mother is a Historian; she is constantly looking for discoveries, a go-getter who never gives up, and she is strong; she can be your saving grace, but she can be your nightmare if you make her.

Then there is your sweet father, who by most people's accounts can be considered as any other clean-cut, white-collar businessman, but your dad loves people and human communication; he’s a charmer or character; he’s the type of man that you can take anywhere, and he is the life of the party. His whole life, he was told he could charm the pants off a dolphin, and he’s shown that time and time again.

Traveling has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember; with two people of your parent's personality, there was no way you could stay in one place, so at nineteen, you’ve been almost everywhere. See so many things. You have met so many people. Yet you’re constantly searching for that piece that clicks in the puzzle. All across the world and in 50 states, you’re still searching for something.

You’re broke from your thoughts when your phone pings again with another message.

Sarah 🎀🦋: Do you want to stay the night? Our AC has been out from the storm, and I was going to sleep on the Druthers tonight; it’s somewhat eerie at night but soothing. Let me know! :)

You quickly shove clothes in the bag for bed and tomorrow and pull your nightstand drawer open, where you graze for your travel makeup bag, brush, and wallet.

Then you run to your closet, picking out a cute bikini with some denim shorts that are so old you can’t even remember where you bought them and an old Malibu beach lifeguard zip-up. You quickly pulled on your white, beat-up old school vans and laced them up.

Lastly, before you text Sarah, you walk to your dresser and look up at the picture of you on Luca's shoulder; you smile and pick up the shell necklace with the ring on it; you had taken it off during clean-up to be sure it was safe.

As you run your thumb over the ring, you whisper to it like it was him, “You and me to the Big Dipper and back.” Then you slowly unhook the necklace, take the ring, and hang it on the same tack that the necklace was before returning the necklace to your neck, kissing your fingers, and touching them to Luca's face

You run and grab your bag, smile on your face, bag slug haphazardly over your shoulder, running out to tell your parents you're off to hang out with Sarah the rest of the day and spend the night. As you ran down the stairs, you responded back

(F/N)🗺️☀️: It sounds like a plan for all of it, be there in 10!

As you quickly run out to the table in your front yard, your parents are cleaning up and putting away the morning of aid they were providing; your dad turns your way when he hears your steps bounding down the front porch towards him.

You run up, placing a kiss on his cheek, saying, “Hanging out with Sarah. Be back tomorrow sometime,” running off, kissing your mom on the head and scurrying towards your Jeep, throwing your bag in and backing out, driving off as quickly as you said goodbye to your parents honking twice to say goodbye once more your parents just share a smile shaking their heads continuing their clean up to return to the house.

As you drove down the messy roads of Kilandre County, you looked around at the new place you were supposed to call home. So far, the waves have been great; it’s been helping inspire some board designs to show your dad. The community service committee seems very put together and involved, which makes you feel better about being here; leaving the YMCA back home for you was super hard. Leaving all the friends you grew up with, all the places you knew like the back of your hand, yours and Lucas's corner of the sky, your spot.

When you went driving across the country to get here, you were so scared you were going to hate it, watching each state grow from ocean to dust, then to plains and green forest, and eventually an island.

While driving through the Cut, you passed quaint homes, each corner of the lawn filled with different yard decorations all across the grasses, wind chimes hanging on porches creating musicality of pitches to sound through the sticky heat, painted bottles, and clay decorations hanging from strings attached to the large tree branches swaying delicately in the afternoon breeze.

Before you knew it, you crossed the bridge to Figure 8, driving through the enormous houses that reminded you of your old summer home in Maine.

Yards, Houses, Cars, and even dogs in the yards are perfectly manicured; everything on this side looks completely uniform and like someone specifically placed them like Monopoly houses on a game board. You were pulling up to your new so-called home immediately, seeing all the wealthy families and their kids in the area swarming for a look at the new kid.

You had lived in Malibu all your life but knew what it was like being the new kid. From early on in your life, actions paired with words affected you significantly. It’s like they latch on to your brain, and anything wrong you say or someone says to you would never escape your mind; it would play like DVD on replay, looping over until you felt you had it right, but it was always too late, it had already happened.

Being in-person for school was never really a place for you, not because you didn’t like the classes but because being around that many people constantly that you’d grown up with, they know you, and they understand your stories; they look for any way to tear into you.

People didn’t make it easy to forget what childhood was like for you. Honestly, girls at school were the biggest problem, starting squandering rumors that would spread and humiliate you, making it too difficult to go back every day.

Suddenly, you were at the next school, trying again. Still, the ones who didn’t stick by you initially would make it their mission to break you into tiny pieces. The only part that always got you through was going home and knowing no matter what, Luca would be there; he, indeed, was the epitome of the words prince charming.

The thoughts spiraling through your head halt as you see the prominent white balconies of Tannyhill. You pull into the driveway and park to the side so you won’t block anyone in or out, and you hop out and scurry to the front door; right as you are about to knock on the enormous front door, it opens, and you almost hit the man standing in front of you.

Standing in the front door foyer is Ward Cameron smiling at you, saying, “Hello, you’re from earlier; how can I help you? How’s Lana?” you smile brightly back at the man sticking out your hand. “Hello, Mr. Cameron, I’m (F/N). Also, she’s not great, but she’s home.” he happily takes your outstretched hand, and before you can say anything else, Sarah sees you from the top of the stairs, calling your name and running down.

Ward steps out of the way and motions for you to come inside, and once you step into the house, you're nearly knocked right back out onto the porch because of the force of Sarah hugging you. She grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs, saying, “Come on, I have so much to tell you.”

You both run giggling up the stairs, and you turn back with your hand still in Sarah’s; the other waves back to Ward, looking at him and saying, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” and before he can even say anything you’ve turned back going full speed to Sarah’s room whispering something to her that has you both throwing your heads back euphoric playful laughter erupts echoing through the halls of Tannyhill.

Ward smiles to think Sarah has found a good friend to be around who is like her—walking off into another part of the house to go through the insurance policies, looking for things that may need to be repaired or replaced from the storm.

Usually, down the hall from where you are now, Rafe's room sits empty as he makes his way to Emma’s house because, being the feeble man he is, all of the drugs he keeps doing and the thoughts of you overwhelm him.

Rafe feels he needs an outlet for it, and she’s there, and she’s salacious and unwavering, so he caved, and now he drives over to her house as you and Sarah dance around her room to “Our Song” by Taylor Swift.

The things he misses by allowing the anger to consume him will melt this man into a puddle.

If it weren't for a shred of fate being on Rafe's side that he didn’t have any condoms, and neither did Emma per her message that he stopped at Tannyhill on the way to the other side of the Country Club where she lives.

When he entered the house, he heard the girl's voices echoing through the house singing; one of them sounded like they were harmonizing with the singer on the speaker, which made Rafe frown, knowing there was no way that was Sarah she couldn’t sing in harmony she’s not horrible, but she’s also not a singer.

He made his way to Sarah’s door, which was only one down from his, to see you holding a makeup brush in your hand like a microphone, and now, through the halfway open door, he could hear you, the one harmonizing to the words ideally like you’ve done it a million times Sarah’s is laughing, singing, dancing around her bed frame. Rafe just watched as you completely acted like you were a performer and you were entertaining millions, but lucky for him, it was a personal show.

He stands, watching as you pull Sarah to her bed to stand with you, hurriedly grabbing another makeup brush and handing it to Sarah, standing back up and getting back into character, singing the words, ‘I got to the hallway, well on my way to my loving bed.’ you spin around singing, ‘I almost didn’t notice all the roses and the note that said’ grabbing Sarah and making her spin not so gracefully. She falls on her butt, laughing at herself. You, on the other hand, he watches as you gracefully dance on the bed, the sheets getting wrapped around your ankles.

Nothing would have mattered at that moment because the world was yours, and he was watched on ardently, hoping to be him in there one day with you dancing the sheets off his bed and screeching music like a band of banshees.

Sarah hops down, watching, dancing, singing along as you sing your heart out on her bed. Sarah loved hanging out with you; it was like she was constantly learning something; when people are around you for some reason, you help them remember what it’s like to feel alive.

You are continually laughing with people, listening when needed, or lifting the mood. You are the epitome of the word euphoria, which is nearly the identical thought Rafe has watching you sing total volume in the last post-chorus. Rafe concentrates on how your voice flows over the notes easily; it’s tangible that you’ve done all this before, and Rafe can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat or two just thinking about how often you may do this.

You dance on the bed joyfully, taking advantage of the fact that Sarah’s bed doesn’t sink as much as your cause of the number of times you’ve done exactly what you’re doing now. The entire time you knew, Rafe stood an arm’s length away in the hall, watching that only spurred you to have more fun, knowing the stoic boy you see constantly has some light underneath, and you’ve made it your mission to try and get a smile from him anytime you see him.

Until the end starts to come, you mimic what the singer is saying, taking your hair down and dropping to your knees on the bed, acting like you're writing on a paper and handing it to Sarah; she accepts it, which makes you both start laughing while the next song starts to play on the speaker, and that’s when Sarah looks up to see Rafe standing there.

“Ugh- go be a creep somewhere else, Rafe, like I don’t know,” she lifts her chin evilly; “oh, how about I do know, Emma’s house? You should go there this time since I don’t feel like getting sick every five minutes from all the shit. I hear over in that death trap you call a room,” she says all this as she’s stalking to the door, you sit on the bed wide-eyed and like someone who’s watching an episode of a reality series. You’re waiting for the heartbreaks and the chaos.

Rafe meets Sarah at her door, and before she can close it in his face, he braces his arm, pushes the door in, and puts his foot in the door frame so she can’t shut it, meeting her eyes and saying in a sinister voice, “What did you just say.”

Sarah looks at him with no affliction and speaks quietly to only Rafe, “You heard me; if you want to be sicko with different girls all the time, at least do it somewhere else and not with my friends; goodbye.” She starts to push her door in, but before the door closes, he catches your eyes worried but aimed directly at him like they’re meant for him; looking back, he sees the white of Sarah’s door and the obnoxious attitude of his sister turning up the music so loud he can’t hear anything. Still, the minor tri tones of your and his sister's giggles mix with the melodies of the music.

Rafe strides to his room quickly and texts Emma that he had an emergency come up; he’ll see her around. She doesn’t reply, but Rafe doesn’t care as he lays on his bed listening to you through the wall, knowing your enchanted presence is filling the walls of the room just next door.

Rafe listens and can faintly hear you two giggling and singing at total volume as if a concert is happening in Sarah’s room at Tannyhill. This thought makes him smile sitting there, thinking about how every time he’s seen you, you seem to be heartily enjoying music and life or human connection. Everything about you seems so worldly, and he wants every single bit.

Rafe doesn’t even know how long he listened to the girlish ruse happening in the other room. Until he hears the telltale tone of you and Sarah giggling, and it’s louder, and he hears her call, “Well, be back later, Dad. Love you, we are going out with Top.”

Rafe quickly ran and swung his door open, stumbling over to the railing just in time to see you and Sarah at the front door, and before he could think, he said so coldly, “Where do you think you’re going?” You and Sarah snap your heads to him, and he instantly feels so inarticulate as he watches you and his sister narrow your eyes at him till Sarah says, “Kegger, but you knew that.” she nudges you, which makes you laugh.

“Well…we know you have places to be, Rafe; we won’t keep you. See you later,” you say with so much insinuation behind your words and your face, but still, the pure, gentle smile and eye creases, he’s committed to memory.

The last thing Rafe sees is his smug sister's face staring at him, shrugging, mouthing ‘sorry, Charlie,’ adding a fake pout to throw the dig even further and slamming the front door behind her.

Rafe is nearly off the deep end now; he knew you were going to the boneyard you’d told him, but; he contemplated going; one thing is sure, the pouges always start shit, and he’s not trying to fight in front of you just yet, so Rafe did what he thought would clear his mind; he took his last bump. This only sent him into a further spiral, having him reach for his phone and revoke his text to Emma, telling her to come to Tannyhill now.

On the other hand, outside, you had run out the door before any more words were shared, running towards Kelce, who was standing in front of his Truck next to Tooper, running to him and jumping on his back, scaring the hell out of him until you start acting like the announcer of a ring fight making him laugh.

Sarah ran up, kissing Topper; you hopped into Kelce's truck, and he started it up quickly after you put on your seatbelt, pulling out before Topper even started his trucking, laughing, flipping him off, and mouthing the word loser.

After pulling out of Tannyhill, he handed you the aux, saying, “Alright, Mss. Muse, you’re always listening to some music when I see you, so why don’t you show me your favorite song?” You giddily take the cord and plug it into your phone, scrolling wildly back and forth, and then you look at him wide eyes, huffing out an irritated breath.

“This is hard,” you said with a pout; he laughed then sat a moment thinking and trying to keep his eyes forward but stealing glances every few moments to let you know he was paying attention, saying finally, “How about play me the song you can’t get out of your head right now.” that made your eyes widen even more if that was even possible it made you look like a child in a candy shop “Smart and also much easier.”

Quickly, you scrolled, pressing on a song, and you sat back. You both enjoy the drive to the beach, listening to “3 Nights” by Dominic Fike playing in the background, watching the trees and beach blur past in one. The sun was still shining through the trees, casting rays of light into the car.

You sit and think about beach parties back home, how everyone would go cliff jumping, cave diving, or anything; the kids back home were thrill seekers. Back home collectively, your friends and people you knew would participate in things that could almost nearly positively end up with a broken neck.

You roll the window down, leaning in it slightly, humming the song, pretending your hand is surfing over make-believe waves that is just wind rushing past you. You take big breaths of the salty sea air and let the sun's rays peek and flash through the trees, warming you as you smile and think about how precious life can be; in moments like this, you feel alive.

Halfway through the drive, you look over to Kelce, who’s faintly singing, which makes you start to sing to him, gesturing and pointing, saying, ‘Seems like you can use a little company from me.’ pointing back to yourself at the end looking at him waiting on him and he looks at you from the corner of his eyes smile proliferating across his face singing with you. You throw your head back, laughing in pure joy. After that, you both get into the song, enjoying your time and dancing and being silly to the songs that play through after—enjoying each other's company and the drive.

Once you arrive at the boneyard location, Kelce parks by some Jeeps, Mercedes, and Trucks, waiting for Topper to get there, still listening to music and having a grand time. You and Kelce are enjoying yourself so much you don’t even notice when Sarah and Topper have not only walked over to Kelce's truck but are now watching through the front window; you and Kelce sing back and forth to an imaginary microphone in your hand singing to what was so obvious to hear as ‘Stay with me’ by Sam Smith that Kelce was going in on it wholeheartedly.

The only thing that broke the car concert was Topper knocking on Kelce's window, making the other boy look at him like a deer during hunting season, frozen and petrified. This makes everyone laugh as you turn down the music and open the door where Sarah steps into the opening, leaning over you to Kelce, saying, “Bravo, Encore, I never knew you were such a performer.” his cheeks are entirely red. Topper has his hand on his shoulder. “C’mom big guy, don’t let them bully you just cause you have a prettier voice than them.”

This makes the group laugh as they all make their way out and away from the truck. Kelce lightly shoved Topper. “She’s just got a good playlist; you try to have banger after banger play and not sing. I want to see you try.” Sarah shakes her head in agreement and laughs; she adds, “It’s true (F/N) is very good at choosing music.”

You run in front of the whole group and bow like an actress at the end of the play, saying, “Thank you. I take my playlist very seriously.” With that, your back is turned to the group, heading straight into the swarm of people's heads; the crowd seemed drawn like moths to a flame, turning to your greetings, and you facing all the new people, giving them all with your prize-winning smile.

Through the evening, you talk to tons of people; you learn they group people here in the Outerbanks, which you don’t like because we are all human, but apparently, you learn from one boy that you're something known as a kook cause you live in Figure 8.

You had to think briefly: your dad is well off, but you don’t see yourself as rich. Your parents worked hard for what they had, and the same was expected of you, and that’s what you will do: work hard and succeed.

As the night starts to take over, the sun creates light hues of color on the horizon. You end up bumping into Kiara, whom you met briefly at the clothes drive. “(F/N)(L/N), right?” she asks; you shake your head, saying back to her, “You must be Kiara; sorry we didn’t get more chance to speak at the drive. I caught the flu,” You say shyly, knowing the response is inaccurate. She brushes it off quickly, stating, “No deal; your brother is awesome, and what you planned was amazing. Hey, do you wanna come sit with me for a bit?” you agreed and followed her.

The conversation with Kiara was insightful; you not only met her friends JJ, John B, and Pope, who came from the Cut, but all the boys seemed nice, albeit maybe a little wayward. You learned about some turtle habit construction happening from Kiara and when they will do a turtle release next month;

She asked If you wanted to join her, so you agreed and gave her your contact information so that you guys could contact each other; you sat and talked to Pope for a bit of time about your aspirations and his for the future learning that he wants to be a mortician.

What causes you to press forward into finding Sarah is your conversation with John B. You learned that six months ago. His father also went missing, and he desperately wanted to see him again and believed he was out there still.

This struck a chord in your heart like buildings tumbling down during a demolition; it made your stomach and chest constrict. It made you immediately think of Luca and Cameron and if they could still be out there waiting for somebody, anybody, to come and get them.

You politely excuse yourself from John B in the end, pushing through the crowd, looking for Sarah and Top, finding them near the fire, whispering to each other, and walking straight toward you. When you walk up, Sarah turns, seeing your face looking slightly distraught, asking you what is happening.

When you start to speak, you are cut off slightly by a gasp of air; then, without thinking, you ask, “Where is Kelce?” they look at you and say he left; you shake your head and walk off to sit a moment, and Sarah follows closely dragging Top kneeling by you saying “C’mon will stand in the waves and be at one with the sea.” Sarah reaches her hand out to you, which makes you smile hesitantly; grabbing her hand and standing to walk with her and Topper, who now looks slightly more annoyed than the previously presented concern.

As the three of you walk toward the water, you get stopped by JJ, one of Kiara's friends you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to. JJ waltzed straight up to Sarah after saying something to John B. and asked, “Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage.” she politely declined, and he turned to you and said, “New girl? wanna give it a try?” raising an eyebrow at you curiously you shake your head smiling shyly saying “I’m good-“ he cuts you off saying “What is not fancy enough for you ladies,”

Standing there stunned, you are looking at him with a questioning look like you are not entirely sure what’s happening, all while Topper does his best to diffuse the situation, finally saying, “Hey, you know what? I’ll take it” saying gratitude to the other boy trying to take the cup from his hands you sharply heard JJ say “that’s nice, but I didn’t ask you if you said pretty please maybe” you could tell JJ was trying to get under Topper's skin and get a rise

Topper starts mimicking JJ's words under his breath, all while JJ continues to talk, and Sarah tries to calm them down. You and John B stand, staring at the situation from either side, wondering where to start. Suddenly, Topper smacks the cup of liquid into JJ's face, and the boys are at each other swiftly. JJ grabs Topper by the collar immediately; John B pulls the two boys apart, being proactive, trying to calm JJ down as Topper yells back at them, “Dirty Pouges!”

This makes John B immediately turn and shove him back, chaos breaking loose as you wince slightly, thinking back to how bonfires were back home drama and gossip; yeah, that happened, but this is already out of hand over something as small as a drink.

In a moment, the boys are throwing punches and stumbling back toward the water, fighting each other, and Topper gets the upper hand on John B. You gasp slightly and move past the front of the crowd that was created around where you all once stood to be next to Sarah who is begging Topper to stop and that she wanted to go home

When John B rolls back into the water after a kick to the gut, Topper yells, “Hey, John B, don’t make me drown you like your old man., all right?” this makes you scoff in disgust at your new friend's boyfriend, who when you look into her face she looked just as disheartened by him right now.

As you looked back up, John B propelled back forward as a flurry of energy hit him, and they kept going; it was hard for you to watch; you only looked over twice once when John B yelled, completely enraged in his voice. “Come on, Topper! Let Go! Come on!” looking back over at the waves, wincing when you heard any hard contact. You looked again when you heard Sarah scream, “No, Topper, Stop!”

You look up to Topper, who is drowning John B. You don’t even stop before stepping forward from where you held Sarah’s shoulder, pressing back and using her body to pull you in front.

You place her protectively behind you, and like approaching a wounded animal or scared dog, you call, “Hey, Topper.” at first, nothing, then a big step that causes a small splash at your feet, you’re shoes getting completely soaked.

Everyone in the crowd is silent; you take one more small step, still far enough away that you’re not in reach, but if Topper surged forward, he would surely be able to take you down into the water as well, but again, you tried.

“Hey, Top, Look at me.” this time, your tone was harsher and firmer, like your brother used with you today when he left back for school or like how your mother used when she told you to do your homework as a child

Nothing Topper kept taunting John B, pushing and pulling his head up and down from the water, essentially drowning the boy right in front of your eyes. Your eyes slightly started to well with tears. Sarah from the side called one more time, “Topper!” one more time to no avail. Shaking your head a moment, looking to Sarah, who looks back, both of you look crestfallen; you only look when you hear gasps.

You look up to see JJ walking up with something in his hand, and then you recognize the black steel-looking object, a gun; the world stills. You don’t hear anything; you observe JJ's movements, standing frosted to your spot; you watch the weapon being pressed to the back of Topper's head, which makes the blood run cold through your body, probing your mind for anything you can do at this moment but can’t. None of these people know you; they aren’t going to listen to you. You still can’t hear what the boys are saying over all the commotion happening behind you and within you.

What can be told is Kiara and Sarah are yelling, and you’re standing there shocked at what is even unfolding in front of you when you thought of a beach kegger; this is never what you would have imagined; it all boiling up to what’s happening You hear Sarah yell to him “JJ stop! Put the gun down.”

You chimed in a futile attempt to diffuse what you can, stepping back next to Sarah now that there was a weapon in the equation, saying, “JJ, it’s not worth it; put down the gun.” turning to look at you and Sarah, a dark look on his face.

“Did you say something, princess?” you both stare at each other. You look back not in fear but with sorrow. JJ, still making eye contact, pulls the gun away from his head, bringing it to the side, panting out, “We’re good.” Topper slowly stumbles up from the water while Sarah yells at Kiara.

You take a moment to breathe and ensure you're not shaking when you hear people yelling. You watch as Topper slowly stumbles your way, and gunshots ring out from the gun JJ has raised in the air. Sarah grabs your hand, trying to guide you to Topper’s truck, but ultimately, you lose her in the crowd from all the pushing and shoving.

When you walk through, looking around, you see a few guys who you would most likely classify as kooks standing around; they ask if you need a ride multiple times as you stand there trying, and you lie, saying you’re waiting for your boyfriend until finally, they seem to congregate in a small group together still watching you, but from afar.

You sit alone on a withered log, waiting and hoping the text you had initially typed earlier, right after your conversation with John B, but before the commotion, you can only hope that the recipient will answer you as quickly as they usually do

Halfway across the island, Rafe's phone pings, and he slowly tries to pull from the grasp of the girl lying halfway over him before he hears, “Rafey, don’t; it’s probably just Topper being stupid; he’s drunk; lay back down.” he does only because she was kissing along the expanse of his neck hand trailing down his toned stomach she lets out little moans into his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries to enjoy the feeling as much as he can until his phone starts physically ringing.

Rafe huffs, annoyance pooling through him, leaning over as he hears Emma make a little whine from the loss of contact with him, and when he picks up the phone, putting it to his ear before even thinking to check who it is, saying “Jesus Christ Top can’t you tell I’m busy Em—“

Then he hears it so quietly, a little sniffle just like the first call, and he almost thinks he’s dreaming till he pulls his phone away and sees the word Angel ❤️ written on the top; Rafe puts the phone back to his ear; sitting up straight, which caused Emma to fall back with a huff on his bed entirely.

Gently through the telephone, he says to you, “Angel,” he hears another slight sniffle, and you say quietly again, “Messages,” and with that, you hang up. Rafe starts to panic slightly to think that not only does he almost tell you about the half-naked girl currently sprawled across his sheets, but you won’t talk to him; then he reads the messages

Angel ❤️: Pls, I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pick me up from the boneyard? Sarah and Topper left me, and some guys are being weird.

Angel ❤️: The cops are here and are talking to me next, so I’m less worried, but if you can, I still need a ride. I can’t go home tonight…

Rafe🪸: I’ll be there. Give me 10 minutes, princess.

Seeing those last messages, Rafe is up and into his closet, Emma whining, saying, “Rafey, what are you doing? You said we’d have fun tonight?” trying to do what could only be described as a pathetic attempt to conquer eyes full of lust roaming him, but lips pulled into a pout. Rafe turns, looking at her dead in the eyes, saying, unfeeling to the girl on his bed.

“Be gone before I’m back.” with that, he was out the door, down the stairs, and on his motorcycle down the road before he could even turn back to see Emma’s angry image slowly stomping down his front porch steps with no shoes and looking highly disgruntled.

Just like he had promised, Rafe's figure takes shape, walking up to you; cops were talking to other kids your age, handing out some tickets to those who they could tell were intoxicated, but you sat, your arms wrapped around yourself, face down all by yourself. He notices your face is pale, and you are looking at your hands, tracing your thumbs back and forth from each hand.

Scanning the area, he sees some Kooks grouped, the group of creeps he assumes, some he knows, some he doesn’t. They watch him walk your way; their eyes are broad, faces starke. He smirks their way and continues his stride toward you; when he reaches you, he leans down, putting his hand gently on your knee, kneeling to try for eye contact.

The contact from Rafe made you look up, your usually gorgeous (E/C) eyes clouded with some darkness; you say in such a small voice, “You came,” a hint of a smile on your face, and it makes him smile back at you “always will angel” he waits a moment letting that sink in for you.

Rafe stands to his full height, holding his hand to you, saying, “C'mon, let’s head home.” You didn’t even think twice before completely interlocking your fingers with his. Even though this surprised him, he guided you to his bike, parked in front of the first cop car. Already, Rafe could feel what felt like the shock from an electric wire meant to keep animals in a paddock. Every time his palm brushed yours, a jolt would go through his limbs. All the while, you were trying so hard to keep your palms away, aware and afraid he’d think you had clammy hands.

He walked you to the side of the bike, grabbing the helmet, saying sternly but almost gently, “ There is only one of these, but…” You begin to cut in. Still, he cuts you off, eyes, brows, and voice slightly raising. “No argument; you are gonna get home safe no matter what, or your brother will freak out on me.” this makes you smile and shut your mouth, letting him slip the helmet on your head and put the straps through on the bottom. When he’s done, he places a hand on either side of the helmet.

He shakes it, smiling at you as you flip up the visor, saying, “Hey,” he chuckles and says, “I’m sorry, angel had to make sure it wasn’t loose,” he flips the visor back down, smiling, at you he helps you on the bike. He lets you know to be careful of the exhaust and that you’ll have to sit as close as you can to him since his bike is technically only a one-person bike.

After assuring you multiple times that he’ll get you to Tannyhill safely and not to worry that he’s got you. he climbed on the bike, starting and pulling off slowly; it’ll still made you jolt forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his stomach and pressing your head firmly to his back as much as you could with the helmet. He turned back, saying softly, “Hold on tight, don’t let go,” and then back forward before accelerating forward.

Along the ride, all Rafe could think about was the thrumming he felt throughout his body, feeling you pressed this close against his back. Behind the helmet, you were taking steady breaths to stop the feeling of electricity in your fingertips every time a finger pressed against his stomach, feeling how toned he was had your heart pumping, praying that Rafe couldn’t feel it on his back.

Not that it would matter anyway cause his heart was beating just as hard, loud, and fast as yours. Anytime you’d hit any bumps, you’d grip him tighter and nuzzle closer; he’d have to take a calming breath.

Eventually, after 25 minutes since he was trying to go easy on the ride, you arrived at Tannyhill. Rafe quickly hopped off, turning to you and unbuckling the bottom of the helmet. He set that on the seat where he was sitting

Rafe helped you off the bike so you didn’t stumble; once both feet planted, he reached up and smoothed the hair on the tops and side of your head that got messy, tracing his hands till he was cupping your cheeks in his palms like delicate flowers about to blow away in the breeze looking in your eyes he whispered.

“You are beautiful.” You lay your head straight into his chest, making his palms rest on the nape of your neck. “Thanks for always showing up, Rafe.” he takes one hand, tilting your head to look at him, saying with a smirk, “I told you always, and I meant it.” That made your cheeks burn a bright red

Standing in front of Tannyhill late on a June evening, you and Rafe stare at each other, orbs tracing each other like the earth and space were colliding to make one big picture or like a string is being pulled taut. You didn’t even realize you were leaning into him and that his hands were trailing to your waist. None of it matters except the feeling of you both trying to press closer but not entirely doing it

Nothing matters until you hear a voice you know that makes you springboard backward from him, standing straight and turning towards the figure, waving and smiling brightly like nothing even happened behind you. Rafe's eyes go from hooded to a scowl directed right at Sarah

Sarah is running to you, wrapping you in a hug, saying, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I tried to make him go back, but then he complained about cops, and then we fought.” you end up grabbing her wrist and saying, “Sarah, it’s okay.”

You give her your classic smike; she’s already growing to love being around you and your individualistic nature; that’s when she grabs your hand, saying, “ I set up the boat for us. I’ve got my laptop; we can watch Netflix,” letting her pull you off.

You throw one last glance over your shoulder to Rafe; he stands there expecting to meet your eyes one last time, and you do.

You turn and meet his eyes with all the brightness he’s growing to be so fond sparkling like the stars on a clear night; you smirk at him, and that’s how he knows the game of cat and mouse has finally begun, which has him with a devilish grin on his face watching you disappear around the corner of the house.

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

if you’d like to catch up master here- The New Girl in Town

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midnightwriter21 · 10 months

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THE PAST, THE PRESENT, & THE AFTERMATH~ Muichiro x Reader Series

The Past Pt 1~

characters: Muichiro x Reader, Yuichiro, Lady Amane

warnings: possible swordsmith arc spoilers!

AN: I am planning on writing this as a series! Might be a slow burn hehe im not sure how many parts there will be yet. That being said, I have a million things going on in my life rn so the next part may not be out for a while! Please bear w me & enjoy the story <3

word count: 782

As a child, you were best friends with a pair of twins who lived in a house far off in the woods at the base of a mountain, not far from your own home village. Their names were Yuichiro and Muichiro Tokito. The oldest brother, Yuichiro, was strict, cold, and avoided physical touch but had his own way of caring for his loved ones through protective gestures and truthful advice. The youngest, Muichiro, was the polar opposite of his brother. He was kind and soft spoken, loved physical touch, had a comforting aura and always knew how to calm your fears and make you laugh.

One hot summer day, you begin your daily walk from your village to the twin’s home. Upon your arrival, you’re greeted by the sight of a beautiful white haired woman speaking with Muichiro.

You approach the pair swinging an arm around Muichiro, “Hey Mui! Who’s this?”

He laughs at your friendly nature before wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you, “(name), this is Lady Amane. She says she’s from the demon slayer corps.”

Looking at the woman curiously you ask, “What’s the demon slayer corps?”

She smiles at you softly before speaking, “I’d like to speak to all three of you about this if I may,” she looks to Muichiro, “Where is your brother?”

“He’s inside.” Mui replies simply.

He grabs your hand, the touch causing your heart rate to speed up slightly, before he turns and leads both you and Lady Amane into the house. Once inside, you, Muichiro, and Yuichiro, gather around to hear what the woman has to say. She explains to the three of you that demons exist, the demon slayer corps was founded to stop the demons from claiming human lives, and that the twins are descendants of a very famous and very powerful swordsman.

Finding the story very interesting, you lean closer to the woman almost falling out of your seat due to your curiosity. Muichiro, with his quick reflexes grabs you before you can fall and pulls you to sit next to him where he can keep ahold of your hand. You immediately feel your face begin to heat up, whether its out of embarrassment from almost falling or from Muichiro’s grip on your hand you don’t know.

Soon enough, Lady Amane finishes her explanation by inviting the three of you to join the demon slayer corps. At this, Yuichiro erupts.

“There’s no way in hell! Get out! Leave!” He rushes her out of the door.

As she leaves Muichiro begins to try to convince Yuichiro, “Didn’t you hear her? We’re the descendants of a powerful swordsman! We could help people!”

“Oh we could? Three kids,” He looks pointedly at Muichiro, “One that can’t even cook his own meals,” then he looks at you, “and one that’s so clumsy she can’t even sit down without falling over. Not happening.”

Yuichiro goes on to mention the deaths of their parents, further pressing his point in not taking it upon yourselves to help others. And just like that the conversation is over. Muichiro slams the door open and walks out angrily and on the verge of tears. Sparing a wary glance at Yuichiro, you follow after Mui.

Muichiro is, as expected, upset after his brothers outburst, “I don’t understand him, (name). He… he’s so mean! Nothing that I ever do is right in his eyes, he says I’m weak... I mean.. we can help people.. SAVE people.."

His back is turned to you but you can see the soft shaking of his shoulders as his emotions take over and he dissolves into tears.

“Oh Mui…” you breathe walking up and hugging him from behind, “Yuichiro… is difficult. He is harsh and he says things without thinking about how it will affect you. But he’s trying to protect us. Being a demon slayer sounds dangerous y’know…”

He turns in your hold, embracing you, pulling you into his chest and setting his chin on top of your head, “I know. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less…” he trails off.

You pull your head back enough to look up at him, your (eye color) eyes staring into his soft mint green orbs, “He loves you, Mui. He’s just not the best at showing it.”

He sighs, choosing to accept your words as he nods, “Yeah…” then he smiles at you, “You wanna stay here tonight? I don’t think me and Yui are going to be talking to each other for a while, and besides, it’s getting late and you shouldn’t walk back home by yourself when it gets dark.”

You giggle softly, “I’ll always stay with you, Mui.”

And the two of you walk back inside the house to get ready for bed, unknowing of the horror to befall the three of you later that night.

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holylulusworld · 9 months

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Not a queen (9)

Summary: You are no one. What if fate makes you queen?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Maid!Reader x Nick (Fowler) Barnes

Warnings: dystopian world, modern royal au, shy reader, arranged marriage, implied smut, fluff, cuddling, a little time jump (2 months), pregnant reader, overprotective Nick

A/N: We are reaching the end of this arc.

This series takes place in the Two kings universe, at the same time. I recommend reading this story first to understand this universe better.

You can find all arcs here: Of Kings and Queens Arcs

<< Part 8.5

Not a queen (Arc 2) masterlist

“Father, are you sure?” Bucky shakes his head. He can’t believe his father wants him to take over the throne so soon. “Why now?”

“Our revolution needs fresh blood, not men stuck in the past. We need the second and first sons to work together,” the king shushes his son. “I know you two will make me proud. I always knew you are special, Bucky, Nick.”

“Has this something to do with King Joseph’s death?” Nick questions. “Father, you are strong and undefeatable.”

The king chuckles at his son’s words. He pats Nick’s shoulder and gives him a soft smile. “Son, you, and your brother will take over the kingdom. It’s my decision. You have a queen and are excepting the next generation.”

“Father,” Bucky tries again. “Why so sudden? We never talked about this before.”

The king sighs deeply. “I got preparations to make, son. While you and Nick take over the throne, I can work in the background with Howard and the others. The new generation must fulfill their fate, and we, the elder generation must fulfill ours.”

“What are you up to? What are you and Howard Stark hiding? Tony took over the throne, Steve too,” Nick huffs. “It feels like you are working in the shadows while leaving us in the dark.”

“Son, you gotta trust me in this,” the king clears his throat. “Soon you will understand. If you want to change the world, you got to find allies in places you never expected to find them. It’s hard work to earn their trust. Our bond is still vulnerable.”

“Bond? Allies?” Bucky groans. “Father, stop talking in riddles. Nick and I deserve that much. What are you talking about? Why did we never hear of this before?”

“The time almost has come, Bucky. Please don’t ask me to give you answers. I can’t give them to you. Not now.”

“What do you think about this? I don’t get it, Bucky. Months ago, father didn’t say a word about giving up the throne.”

“Nick,” Bucky’s features soften at his brother’s worried expression. “Months ago, we didn’t know our wife will expect a child. But she does, and making her queen keeps her safe.”

“I-“ Nick licks his lips. “You think so?”

“A queen has a higher status than a former maid. Father knows that too. I think he tries to keep our wife and child safe. We got to have a little faith in him brother.”

“Y/N, mouse,” the moment he steps inside the room he pounces on you. He looks you all over, checking on you as if he’s afraid something happened to you while you were waiting in your shared chamber. “How are you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m good,” you softly say as he runs his hand over your barely swollen belly. “How about you tell me what your father wanted to talk about.”

“He wants us to become king,” Nick replies. “You will be a queen soon, mouse. Can you imagine, you and I will rule this kingdom?”

Bucky clears his throat. He quirks a brow as you hide your face in Nick’s chest.

“Oh, yeah. Bucky will share the throne with me,” you snicker at Nick’s words. He loves to tease his brother. “I bet the little bean inside her belly is mine too.”

“Brother,” Bucky grits his teeth. “We talked about this! No more fighting over her womb. If the baby is yours, I’ll put another one inside of her.”

You giggle when Nick shoves you behind him. “I didn’t agree with you on this. Y/N needs to take care of this little bundle of joy first. You’ll get your chance later…much later.”

“Uh-no fighting. We talked about this too,” you point out. “We will wait for the doctor to tell us if the baby is healthy, and about their gender. I don’t want to know who the father is. I know in my heart that both of you are their father.”

“Doll,” Bucky sniffs. “Of course, we are both the father. You’re right.”

“Mouse, I’m the father…and Bucky too,” Nick wrinkles his nose. He’s not convinced but doesn’t want to make you mad at him again. Lately, you scolded him more than once. Especially when he cursed around your belly.

“So, how about we spend the evening talking about lighter things? I found this book I want to read. Or one of you can read it to me…I mean us.”

“It’s my turn!” Bucky insists. “You will get comfortable on the bed, and I’ll read the book to you, and my annoying brother.”

“Howard, we need results. Our enemies will strike soon. We need to strike first,” the king sighs deeply. “Stark, what are you cooking up with your son?”

“We are close, my friend. Give me a little more time. I’ll make sure we win this war before the first blood gets shed. My son knows how to bring back something we last a long time ago.”

“Howard … time is running out on us. I only hope you know what you’re doing. We are all counting on you and your son.”

“We won’t disappoint. I promise…”

Howard likes to keep people in the dark about the things going on in his laboratory and kingdom.

“She smiles and turns away from the man who used to be her hero…and then, she walks away,” Bucky reads the last line of the book. He silently closes it. “She’s asleep, Nick.”

“Just a minute,” Nick mumbles. He presses his ear to your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. “I know they will kick me.”

Bucky doesn’t have the heart to tell his brother it’s too early in your pregnancy. “I bet they will kick you soon.” He smiles while hoping he can watch their children grow.

>> Part 10

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #nick fowler #prince!nick fowler #prince!bucky barnes #royal au #dystopian au #bucky barnes x reader #nick fowler x reader #Not a queen (9)

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spahhzy · 5 months

Text

Special Grade: Forgotten Silhouettes.

Au.

Hi. New story. Enjoy.

"Hey Jaune, --- been looking for you." Said a man dressed in a white jacket, orange hair sticking out from under his bowler hat as he was counting the lien that they made from their last score. He motioned to the closed door.

___ Room.

The other man, him-Jaune, tilted his head but shrugged his shoulders before walking up to the door and opening it up he walked inside, the door closing behind him.

"___?" He called out, but nothing. he sighed, wondering if this was one of ___tricks, he see's ___ mattress and walked up to it, noticing nothing out of the ordinary he was about to go bark at _____ until a piece of paper fluttered onto the mattress.

He looked at the paper with a curious look before grabbing it and opening it up.

Ja-

Jaune, doing as instructed, looked up, thinking that ___ was up their but to his surprise, it was just another letter. Lucky enough, this one was in bold letters, which made it easier to read.

-unee!

"Wuuuh," he said dumbly, Jaune pulled open the crook of his shirt and, like a magic trick, performed on him, stitched inside his shirt... was another note.

"How the hell did she..." Not even going to try and guess that insanity Jaune just read the next note.

Jaune!

Jaune let go of his shirt and looked in front of him, and the next thing he was greeted with were pink and brown eyes.

Jaune!

"Jaune!"

Jaune jolted awake with a start as he looked up to see frosted blue eyes looking down at him.

"Yes, specialist Schnee?" Jaune said as he stood into place of his superior.

Winter Schnee, his commanding officer of his unit, Special Grade.

"The general wishes for me to take you to training course for the rookies, he will be on-site as well as the council to see your performance as well," She told him, and Jaune nodded.

"Also, how have you been? Still having sleep problems?" She asked, and Jaune shrugged as he looked down at an object dangling off his right wrist.

"It comes and goes, specialist Schnee, but nothing I can't handle," He told her, which earned him a smile from her, as she put a hand on his shoulder.

"That's good to hear, Jaune, but if you have any problems, you are more than welcome to talk to me," Winter said to him as letting her hand linger for a moment before removing it.

"You know Jaune, you should leave personal momento's here as they could get lost in the field of battle," Winter said to Jaune.

"Maybe you're right, Speciist Schnee, but I just don't feel right when this bracelet comes off," He told her, and Winter tilted her head but nodded anyway in understanding.

Silence suddenly fell between the two as Jaune just raised an eyebrow, and Winter let out an awkward cough.

"Right, also, the General would like a word with you before you head out onto the course, so grab your sword and let head out." She told him her authority voice coming back out.

Jaune nodded and grabbed his sword, doing a major look over before stepping out of his quarters into the hallway with the waiting Winter.

They walked in silence to the general's quarters, but all the while, Jaune couldn't help but feel a deep pang of sadness as all his thoughts were preoccupied on the dream.

The girl with...

Oh... it seems he forgot already.

"Ah, if it isn't Jaune Arc, how are you, son?" General Jame Ironwood asked as he held out his hand for Jaune to shake.

"I'm doing alright, sir, ready for this training course you got me doing," Jaune told him, and Ironwood nodded.

"I want you to treat this course very seriously. You're going to be showing the new recruits how it's done, but it will also gauge for me to see if you're ready for your mission, " He told Jaune, who had looked at him with wide eyes.

"Mission, sir?" Jaune repeated, and Ironwood nodded."Yes, I'm thinking of sending one of the 'Special Grade' personelle to Beacon and have them participate in the four year program," Ironwood said as he and Jaune walked to an elevator.

"Beacon? That's Headmaster Ozpin's school, isn't it?" Jaune asked, and Ironwood nodded.

"Why would you need me to attend? Surely I'm more experienced than some average academy student, " Jaune asked, and Ironwood chuckled.

"You're right,'Special Grade' Arc, you are more experienced, but I need someone to keep an eye on the school and more so of Ozpin." Ironwood said to him. " I fear bad times are coming ahead, Jaune, and in those times, I fear for my friend," He told Jaune, who nodded as the elevator descended down.

"I feel as though you are a good candidate to choose from, but only if you nail this course spotless, it will allow me to convince the council to send you to Beacon...is that okay with you?" Ironwood asked, and Jaune nodded just in time as the elevator reached the bottom and opened up to the training course.

Jaune and Ironwood stepped out, Jaune looked up and saw a multitude of people from the Atleasian council while also seeing new recruits as well as Specialist Schnee.

Oh boy, Jaune was starting to get a little nervous having all these eyes on him.

"You'll do well, Jaune. I know you will," Ironwood said as he patted him on the shoulder before walking off leaving Jaune alone at the starting line.

"Oh and Jaune, I almost forgot." Jaune turned his head to Ironwood.

"Be mindful of your path. It's darker than it looks"

Something inside Jaune switched off as something else switched on.

"Roman, my friend, how are you?" said Hei as one Roman Torchwick, collapsed down onto the barstool a heavy sigh escaping him as he threw down some lien.

"Bad night?" Hei asked all he got as an answer was Roman chugging down his drink before ordering another.

"Sheesh, is that new client of yours really that bad?" He asked, sending another shot down Roman's way.

"It ain't easy stealing all this dust my friend, that bitch has some big schemes involved and if I don't provide my ass is grass as well as Neo's" Roman said before downing another shot.

"Speaking of Neo, where is she?" Hei asked, and Roman remained silent, not wanting to answer, but Hei already knew the answer to that question. Instead, he poured a shot for him and Roman.

"Things were much more fun with him around," Hei said as he drank the liquor.

"You just like it cause he kept them bikers from destroying your bar," Roman teased, and Hei laughed, which in turn made Roman laugh before chugging down another shot.

"Neo's going to be pissed when she finds out the next stage in the bitches plan" Roman said as Hei hummed in agreement.

"How long has she been chasing leads?" Hei asked, and Roman shrugged.

"Almost three years since the ambush" Roman said and Hei shook his head.

"You think you should just tell her to give up? Move on?" Hei asked and Roman sighed.

"I don't know, old friend...I really don't know"

"Please! Stop, I don't know anymore, plea-ack! " Came a pleading man before he was stabbed in the chest, a sharp blade coming out of the other end l, effectively killing the man. His attacker wore a white leotard covered with black pants and white boots. She wore a few pieces of jewelry, namely necklaces. She also had a yellow bracelet. She also wore a worn-out black jacket with a logo of a bunny in the middle, but the jacket was big for her , and it made it look like she was wearing a trench coat.

Her pink and brown eyes glared angrily at the dead man before opening her scroll up and crossing of a name from a list.

"Another dead end, Neo?" Spoke a voice as Neo turned to the man, Roman, her partner in crime and best friend.

Neo gave a silent huff but nodded sadly as Roman walked up to her as she fiddled with the bracelet.

"Hey, where almost done with collecting dust for our client, which means that we're going to be going to the next stage of her plan" Roman said and Neo just crossed her arms and looked angrily at him.

"I know, I'd rather not send you to Beacon of all places, but... we gotta survive this for our sake...it what Jaune wanted after all" Roman said and Neo narrowed her eyes at him.

"Hey-hey, take it easy. I'm not saying he's dead, but...come on Neo it's been four years since that raid... and well... " He was shushed as Neo just turned away from him, gripping at the worn-out jacket.

"I know it's hard... I miss him every day, but if we want to keep searching... we gotta go along with that Cinders plan okay...please" He said as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Neo just stood their but eventually, she sighed in defeat before nodding at him with a smile.

"Thanks... Now come on, let's get out of here"

Neo nodded to Roman as they both left the alleyway before law enforcement could show up, and though she couldn't speak it, her mind kept repeating it.

'I'll find you, Jaune'

#jaune arc #neopolitian (rwby)#rwby silent knight #winter schnee #roman torchwick #james ironwood

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sashi-ya · 1 year

Text

ᴍɪɴɪ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ > ＣＯＴＴＯＮＣＡＮＤＹＣＬＯＵＤＳ˚۰

ＧＯＯＤ 🕮 ＢＯＯＫａｉｚｅｎｘｆ！ｒｅａｄｅｒ

request. @stygianoir asked: A good book with aizen plz 🥰 Oh nsfw fem reader plz tw. +18. story happens around the turn back the pendulum arc. he is still a vice-captain. masturbation. unprotected sex. kinda of humiliating language wc. 1k masterlist.

Nobody knows, and nobody cares. What you read is your own business, and nobody in squad five cares.

The lines of pure sinfulness fill your eyes and your imagination: The author, an anonymous Shinigami seems to know you better than yourself. It describes exactly what you would like your vice-captain to do to you. The character in the book also wears glasses, but he hides something else inside… maybe Aizen does too?

Soft touch lands on your shoulder. It delicately squeezes your skin. “What has you that absorbed from reality, (Name)?”

A shiver runs through the fine line that goes from your neck to the small of your back, his touch, his voice, his sent… “Aizen fukutaicho! I- I’m sorry, I was just reading” you excuse yourself, closing the book violently.

He walks around you, never letting your shoulder go from his delicate grip. “That must be a good book. You know, I love reading… why don’t you tell me what’s about?” he asks, insistently. Aizen probably knows what that book tells, but he is asking either way.

For some seconds, you remain silent. Only the crackling sound of the bonfire outside fills the ambience. Why you are there with your superior on a cold night, little do you know. A mission on the forest, disappearance of souls leaving only their shihakusho and clothes behind, something like that.

Nothing really mattered, but to be alone with him.

“Uh… It’s… uh… a romance book” you don’t lie, but you don’t tell him the full truth either. You try to avoid any further information, but you clearly regret bringing with you that erotic book.

Your vice-captain fixes his glasses, his innocent stare hides something else you haven’t still able to decipher… “I love romance, why don’t you read me your fave part?” Aizen suggests -kinda ordering you-.

You swallow. Why is he asking you this? isn’t he sleepy? The tent in which you two are staying becomes smaller the more minutes it pass.

“Oh… I- I really don’t know Aizen fukutaichou“ you stutter, unsure which part you should read. “Read page 69, I like that number” he requests, making you sweat as you know exactly what’s that page about.

You nod, fixing your stare into the pages your almost trembling hands pass. Once you’ve reached the page, you take a quick glance at him. Aizen looks at you with an overly gentle smile on his tempting lips. Your scared countenance reflects on his glasses, your cheeks burn…

“The… the- tip of his tongue traced immeasurable paths through the ups and downs of her skin. Her taste would drive him crazy; under his embrace she squirmed, her toes curled. That man was taking her body, and also her soul, shaking everything she got from the inside out…”

He scoffs, and you stop. Your cheeks burn, the tip of your ears too. “That indeed looks like a good book… however, I didn’t know I had such a naughty officer under my command…” he whispers, brushing his hair slightly back.

A long tuft of hair falls over his handsome face, his eyes aren’t innocent no more; Those brown orbs could only show lust, greed, a certain hunger you could match.

Coming closer to you, crawling over the many pillows you have brought to be a little more comfortable on the tent, he gets to your face. His thumb plays slowly with your lower lip, you can’t close your mouth.

A big sigh escapes your body, making Aizen blink slowly, killing you even slower. “Why don’t we read this book together? Sit on my lap” he suggests, rounding you, sitting right behind you.

You bite your lip; you thought he was taking you right there, violently, hard… but that’s not proper, that’s not Aizen Sosuke’s style…

His arms surround you, pulling you over his legs. Your back rests on his chest, his chin on your shoulder. “So… which page we were in? 69, right?” he whispers, so sexily but so innocently at the same time.

His big hands grab the book. You look slightly to the side, noticing how close your lips now are from his. His strong reiatsu makes you a little weak, but it’s the right amount of dizziness your body can deal with while sitting over his growing hardness.

“The way she moaned, sounded like a sweet melody to him. Lust, oh so lustfully. The way her legs were opened, the way her insides squeezed his sex…” he reads, making you look to the side biting your lips.

He laughs; “definitely you are really dirty… do you always read this?” Aizen asks, pressing you against his lap with his forearms on your legs.

“It’s ju- just literature, Aizen fukutaicho” you mumble, taking a deep gasp of air as he pushes even more against his core. “But you sure have learned how to all those things when reading, didn’t you?” he asks, kissing your neck with the sweetest peck.

You nod shily, closing you eyes just to indulge on his warm breath over your skin. “I’m still amazed at your reading choices, you always looked so innocent to me…” he says, leaving the book on the side and sliding his hand inside your shihakusho.

You squirm to his sudden squeeze; he plays with your nipple, pulling, twisting. And, while you are too focus on that pleasure, his free hand reaches for your sex. Tracing circles on your pleasure button you moan, loudly.

“Shh… you are gonna wake up the rest” he whispers covering your mouth with his palm, remembering you that there are many other tents around you. The camp outside seems quiet, but any loud noise could wake them up instantly.

Aizen goes harder on your sex, stimulating and then fingering you straight away. He enjoys the way your inner thighs get wet from the arousal as he cleans his fingers there with disgusted -but lustful- look.

“Dirty little bitch…” he grunts, taking his dampened fingers to your face. “Look how wet you are, aren’t you a dirty little bitch?” he asks, smearing your own fluids all over your lips. You nod, you want more of him; how dare this man leave you on the verge of an orgasm?

He pushes you forward, so that you fall on all fours over the cushions. “Ngh…” you whine, as he pulls down your flowy pants.

Aizen inspects your folds, fixing his glasses with a perverse smirk on his lips. “Put your ass up, dirty little whore. Look at you, wagging your ass from side to side so I’m tempted to fuck you…” he scoffs, spreading your glutes enough to feel you are breaking in half. “Let’s see if you are tight as you seem… I’ve always planned to fuck you”

Your legs become weaker; the innocent playful vice-captain is nothing but the total opposite… Aizen Sosuke hid this very well and the way his hips ram into you feels like a total treachery to the idea you had of him…

“What a good book to read before bed, (Name)… It’s sparked my imagination…” “I’m gla- glad you – ngh.. liked it, Aizen fukutaicho…” “Aizen-sama, to you… little dirty whore”

#aizen sōsuke #aizen x reader #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen bleach #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach fanfic #muken aizen #sashi ya

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writeforfandoms · 2 years

Text

Shatter Me 1

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Okay, here we go! Brand new series. This one is going to be long, folks. I have Arc 1, the Interlude, and the beginning of Arc 2 planned. I already have written 25k, and I’m not done with Arc 1 (I did write the Interlude). This is gonna be a long haul. Strap in, y’all.

A couple quick notes before we begin:

Mechanic is Peli’s sister. But, as our favorite armored warriors would remind us, family is more than blood. I personally do not look like a blood relative of Peli. So, take “sister” as you will - blood or adoption. It still works. Family is family.

There will be warnings per chapter of course BUT as a general note: Mechanic did leave an abusive relationship prior to the start of this fic. We will see the repercussions of that, both in her manner and actions, and in the actions of others.

Last note I promise! This is a SLOW BURN. Like. REALLY SLOW.

This is a story about growth, and change, and healing, and forgiveness, among other things. It’s a story of two people, looking for wildly different things in the galaxy, and finding things in each other.

Also I just really wanted to try my hand at an epic adventure tale.

Warnings: Swearing, brief allusion to an ex-partner, Peli is pushy, Din is a pushover, the child is still the cutest thing in the galaxy.

Word count: 1.8k

You were under a speeder, sweating in the pervasive, constant heat of Tatooine. You paused to turn your head, wiping your brow on your shoulder, and then glowering up at the stubborn wiring above you. You didn't even notice the person until a masculine but modified voice said, "Hey. Peli."

You froze for a moment and then slowly pushed yourself out from under the speeder, looking way, way up. At… a Mandalorian? Maybe? You'd heard stories but you'd never seen one in person before.

"I'm sorry," you apologized automatically. Kriff but it was bright, doubly so with the gleaming armor the man wore. "She's not here at the moment."

The man looked down at you, the black T-visor of his helmet daunting, giving nothing away. "When will she be back?" His voice was low through his helmet.

You shrugged. "A couple hours, probably. Uh, she's probably at the cantina if you want to try to find her, or you can wait." Your shoulders pulled up to your neck, intimidated by the man in front of you and embarrassed by your own rambling.

He nodded once, curt, and strode off, out of the hanger. You let out a little sigh of relief.

Peli could deal with him when she came back.

Satisfied for now, you tucked yourself back under the speeder to finish up. It didn't take that much longer, and you cleaned up as you waited.

You heard them before you saw them. Your sister didn't sound upset, exactly, just excitable. Which was, honestly, her default.

"So, what's the damage this time?" Peli asked, barely glancing at the Mandalorian beside her before she looked at his ship. It was old, a Razor Crest. Didn't see ships that old very often, anymore.

"She needs a good once-over," the Mandalorian said.

"Sure, sure. No problem. Hey! Would you watch what you're doing?" Peli shouted at a couple of the pit druids, and you chuckled softly. "Anything else? Don't suppose you're gonna leave the little darling here?" She looked hopefully down at… a sack?

Then the little green thing inside the sack moved, and the biggest pair of eyes you'd ever seen blinked at you. Oh, stars. It was a child. The Mandalorian was carrying a child. Your heart just melted.

"He stays with me," the Mandalorian said with a little shake of his head. "You still have that speeder bike?"

"Sure do. It's a bit rusty." Peli shrugged and led the way over to the bike.

You left the two of them to their business, instead going to supervise and direct the droids. Honestly, your sister had the dumbest droids, you just couldn't understand it.

Peli found you on top of the ship a while later, elbow deep in one of the engines. "Having fun?" She called up to you.

"Oh, you know me," you shot back. "Always having fun." You frowned when you felt something out of place and jiggled it loose. Huh. An extra piece of metal. You tossed it off to the side, letting it roll into the faint shadows around the edges of the hanger.

"Well, don't stay up there too long. I'm not saving any dinner for you if you're late."

You waved her off, well aware that her bravado was just that. She wouldn't let you go hungry, no matter how late you worked.

Besides, working late and wearing your body out was one of the only ways you had quiet, restful sleep.

The Mandalorian wasn't back by the next morning, so you went back to work. There were a lot of issues with the old ship. Some of them were minor, some were of more immediate concern. You had a mental list going.

From what little you'd been able to wheedle out of Peli, that seemed to be the norm for him. He was always on the move.

Besides, the ship was a good challenge for you to work on. You enjoyed the methodical process of taking things apart and fixing them, making them better. You even hummed while you worked.

"You work too hard," Peli called. "I'm going down to the cantina to play a few rounds of sabacc. Come with me!"

"I'm good, I'm almost finished here." You shot her a smile over your shoulder. "You go."

Truthfully, you didn't want to be around that many people. Too many unknowns. Too many possibilities. You'd rather not take any chances.

Peli sighed but left, waving a hand over her shoulder.

Content with the quiet, you hummed as you buttoned up your work. Not bad for less than two full days, really. Especially considering the age and state of the ship.

You had just finished gathering up your tools when you heard Peli come back, chattering away at someone. You turned to find the Mandalorian. He had a makeshift yoke over his shoulders, packages swaying down on each side.

For a moment, you were completely distracted by the breadth of those shoulders. Stars, he was huge. And strong. You swallowed.

And then that visor turned on you and you stiffened, your heart picking up speed in your chest. Fortunately he looked away as Peli started barking orders at her droids, setting up a cooking space.

"What is that?" You asked when the large chunk of meat was affixed to a skewer to roast.

"Krayt dragon," the Mandalorian answered. He wasn't looking at you, instead watching his small green child.

You thought about asking where he'd gotten that… and then shrugged. That was his business.

"So, great news!" Peli grinned at the Mandalorian before barking at the droid, "Don't overdo it! I like my meat medium rare. I'm not a Rodian."

"What is it?" The Mandalorian turned to look at her.

"My contact knows where there are more Mandalorians! And they're close, they're in this sector."

"And the bad news?" He asked dryly.

"That's it, no bad news." Peli hesitated, and you knew there was more. "Well, and she wants passage to that sector."

The Mandalorian put his hands on his hips, looking down at Peli. "I'm not a taxi service," he growled out.

"I know, I know, but this is the only way she'll tell you! I swear, I vouch for her. She'd got good info." Peli nodded a few times, hair bouncing around her face.

Peli was absolutely bluffing. Oh kriff, she was bluffing, he was going to figure it out and then–

He sighed. "Fine."

"And you can't use hyperdrive."

"What?" He shook his head, making a cutting motion with his hands. "No. Deal's off."

"It's in the same sector!" Peli wheedled. "And she's got extenuating circumstances."

"What extenuating circumstances?" He growled out, hands balling into fists.

Just then, someone rounded the corner and stepped into the bay. It was a… frog. Person. Frog lady. Okay then. There really were all kinds on Tatooine.

"It's her spawn," Peli told him. "She's going to meet up with her husband. These eggs need to be fertilized by the equinox. If you go faster than light, they'll die."

The Mandalorian sighed, sounding aggravated. "You're sure her info is good?"

Peli made some croaking sounds at the lady, who made sounds right back. "She says her husband has seen them."

He wavered for a moment more before he sighed in acquiescence. "Fine," he ground out.

"There is one more thing. For me." Peli shifted her weight, refusing to look away from him.

"What else?" He sounded almost tired now.

"Take her with you." Peli nodded to you.

"What?" You squeaked.

"What," the Mandalorian echoed you flatly.

"Look, Mando, your ship needs a lot of help. More than I can do in the very short time you give me. So, take her with! She's as capable as I am. It'll be like having your very own pocket mechanic!" Peli beamed, clearly pleased with herself.

You took back every kind thought you had ever had about your sister. You were going to murder her.

The Mandalorian planted his fists on his hips, helmet lowering as he sighed. Deeply. But he didn't refuse. The child blinked big eyes up at him, and the Mandalorian's shoulders dropped. "Fine," he growled. "We leave as soon as you're ready." He bent to pick up the kid and walked away.

The frog lady croaked something and went to settle herself on the ship.

Giving you a chance to whirl on your sister in a panic. "Peli, what do you think you're doing?"

"Relax, it'll be fine!" Peli stepped closer to you, grabbing one of your hands. She lowered her voice too, this conversation just for the two of you. "I know you needed to stay here, but you also need to get back up. Don't let that slimy skeezeball keep you from your life forever. This'll be good for you! You'll be safe with Mando. You can travel in style, work for him for a while, see more of the galaxy. You always wanted to travel!"

"Sure, but not like this," you hissed. "Maker, Peli, how well do you really know him? What if he… if he…" you trailed off as the many, many awful consequences of this loomed in your mind. It could be even worse than before, if you were trapped on a ship with him.

"Mando is a man of his word," Peli assured you. "He is honorable. I promise he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. And besides, I wanna make sure the frog lady makes it to Trask okay. She has trouble communicating with a lot of people, you know."

"Peli…" you trailed off, unsure what to say. There were so many things swirling inside of you: anxiety, fear, begrudging affection, and just a little bit of hope.

Peli stepped back, back to her normal self. "You better grab your tools. Go on, scoot!"

She…. Was not wrong. You scrambled to grab your tool belt and your kit, throwing everything into the same duffel bag you had used those months ago.

You did manage to eat some of the meat before you left, and you saw a pit droid carefully take a package up to the Mandalorian and his child.

You hesitated just before the ramp, swallowing hard. You didn't know exactly what was going to happen now. Part of you was terrified, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Part of you was elated, an almost childish sense of adventure that you had long thought yourself incapable of.

Most of you, however, was focused on the Mandalorian. Peli had assured you that you would be safe with him… but she was prone to exaggeration. And flat out lying when she needed to.

So how trustworthy was he, really?

You sighed, shoulders drooping, before you started up the ramp, your steps clanging gently on the metal.

You turned and took one last look at Peli, the droids, the hanger, before you turned and moved further in to the belly of the ship.

Taglist: @quica-quica-quica @littlemisspascal @queridopascal @miraclesabound @ezras-channel-rat @harriedandharassed @fandom-blackhole @shoopidly @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @anditsmywholeheart @amneris21 @myguiltypleasures21 @javierpinme @grogusmum @eri16 @pintsizemama @pedrostories @luxmundee @kirsteng42 @5pectre @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @litakino @pjkimrn @trash-dino-5000 @mandalwhorean @mswarriorbabe80 @magikfanatic @ickystickysap @luz-introvertida @hb8301 @saradika @bruxasolta @lowlights @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @chaoticgeminate @thirddeadlysin @beskarprincessjenny @evyiione @stevie75 @the-feckless-wonder @janebby @reader-without-a-story @idreamofboobear @jaime1110 @recklessworry @hotchlover @snarwor @mindidjarin @bowtiesandsandshoes @scorpio-marionette @buckybarneshairpullingkink @borinquenasoy @bearcina @heyitsmeghann @hoodedbirdie @practicalghost @beecastle @phandoz @tintinn16 @avatarkanemi @tanzthompson @the-fic-baker @churchill356 @tentacruels @fabilei @the-chaotic-cow @trickstersp8 @ruhro7 @tinkywinky27 @karlawithacapitalk @thesmutslut @kurlyfrasier @hp-hogwartsexpress @aynsleywalker @gingersnap126126 @od-ends @justnat15

#shatter me #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #f!reader

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stray-kaz · 10 months

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To Sleep and Not To Wake : a Rhian Mistral x f!reader drabble

A/N: The gif has nothing to do with the story, there are just limited gifs of Rhian.

Summary: You have been put under an enchantment, to sleep as long as there is no one to wake you. But there is someone to wake you.

The coffin was purest glass, gold filigree etched across its surface. As Rhian approached it with shaking hands, the sun bounced off it, light lancing into his eyes, turning them molten gold. He shielded them, and at the same time, glimpsed your face through the gilded glass.

Purple lightning arced against it, rattling the seams, trying to escape its confines. Enchanted and sleeping, your magic was untethered, raw power eager to leap free, to ride the wind and fly over the turrets of his School.

It had been built in a hurry, the coffin. Rafal had spelled it together, one hand soaking up your surplus leaking magic, while the other spun the coffin into being around you. Rhian hadn’t been present when the lesson you were taking had gone awry, but Rafal had witnessed the fumbling student cast an accidental sleeping curse on you. You had hit the ground before he could catch you, before he could send a fairy to locate his twin, before Rhian had come running.

But now Rhian was there, tracing his fingertips over the golden curlicues that shaded your face, his brother waiting behind his shadow.

“Who did it?” Rhian asked quietly.

Rafal stared at the back of his head. His twin’s voice held an edge rarely present. He spoke again, even harder this time.

“Who cast the curse?”

Rafal cleared his throat.

“Leandra” he murmured, finding himself in the uncommon position of being his brother’s keeper.

Rhian whipped around, his eyes now hard as bronze.

“A third year should know better” he snapped.

“Go to the library, brother” Rafal said sternly. “Read. Find the answer without bloodshed.”

Rhian glowered at him, but Rafal did not flinch.

“You, the Schoolmaster for Evil, cautioning me?” Rhian demanded.

His tone was hot, his eyes ablaze. Rafal nodded, arms crossed casually over his chest, but his muscles were taut, ready to react should he be provoked. He watched Rhian deliberate, pulse like a hammer. Then the angry light shied away and his pursed lips loosened into a soft frown.

“All right, Rafal” he muttered, his voice low and rasping.

He turned on his heel and strode away, shoulders rigid with the effort of not looking back at the coffin, at you lying inside it.

Rafal watched him go for a time, then turned and placed his hand atop the coffin, warmth spreading from his palm over the glass. Purple light beat against the surface, then calmed to his touch.

“Hurry, Rhian” he said quietly to himself. “She is more powerful than I anticipated.”

The door to the tower library slammed against the stone wall, untouched by any hand. Rhian stormed through the gap it left open, power crackling. He began running long fingers down the spines of the books at eye level, moving from shelf to shelf, eventually becoming perturbed, then frustrated, then angry all over again.

“Why are there so many damn sleeping spells?” he muttered to himself, tossing book after book over his shoulder.

And then, just before rejecting yet another tome, he hesitated, his fingertips tingling and hot. Almost mindless with desire and hope, he flipped it open to a page halfway through the book, tarnished and blank except for a shimmering image of a man leaning over a sleeping woman, his lips a scant inch from hers.

Rhian was gone before the book even touched the floor.

When he reached the gold touched coffin, Rafal had both hands flat on it and his chest was heaving with exertion, sweat dampening his temples. He tilted his head to see Rhian, the fine muscles around his eyes straining.

“Did you figure it out yet?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Rhian nodded and Rafal ripped his hands away from the coffin. The glass exploded, a torrent of violet flame pouring into the clouds. The heat of it warmed Rhian’s hands as he gripped two intact, smooth edges and leaned over the side of the coffin.

He gazed at you for a while, ignoring the purple streaks licking at his coat sleeves.

“Beloved” he whispered. “Open your eyes.”

He touched his lips lightly to yours, noses rubbing, breath stealing inside you. He eased back, waiting. It didn’t take long, and his breath shook as your eyes flickered open to meet his. The barest smile graced your lips and the bright glow of your magic faded away.

“Rhian” you murmured, touching the pad of your thumb to his bottom lip. “I -”

He pulled you up, into his arms, smothering your ‘I love you’ in his shoulder. You smiled and held on tight, feeling your heart begin to beat once more.

Tagging: @elizabeth-karenina

#rhian #rhian mistral #rhian mistral x reader #rhian mistral x female reader #the school for good and evil fanfiction #liss writes

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clockwork-sparrow · 6 months

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Tales from the Frost

Stories following the conclusion of the RP Arc, TOWER.

Stories: [1] 2 3 4

Live your Todays

Sitting on Alvarium’s walls is a girl and standing behind that girl is a man. They’re only three years apart but that’s what it feels like to Gloria, sometimes. Everyone’s got jobs, hooked up, had kids, and croaked while she remained stuck in some mental, teenage purgatory of rebellion, discovery, and petty angst. Gloria pulls her coat tighter around herself and shivers from the cold.

“Fuck. You’ve always been skinny but now, you’re like a skeleton,” Florus says. He rests his hands on her shoulders and gives her a comforting squeeze. “…Stiff like one, too.”

“Piss off. Like you’re one to talk,” Gloria pouts.

“Hey, what’s worse? Sticking to meal replacements or doing whatever the hell fad you’re onto now?” Florus says. “Paleo, keto, activated charcoal. Wasn’t there a month where you only ate kale?”

“Kale is good! Not that you’d know, you tasteless prick.”

“Oh, fuck. Really got me there.”

Gloria snorts. Get stung enough times and you learn to ignore it. Besides, if Florus wasn’t being a little shit, then it’d be even more off putting at this point. Bantering like this reminds her of the old days; years of living normal lives, having normal wants, worrying about normal things. It’s behind them like a memory now, locked away by the horrors they survived and the loss they carry. Maybe she would have rather stayed in her middling, small-minded purgatory for a little while longer. It wasn’t so bad in hindsight. Gloria sniffs and hugs herself even tighter.

“Hey. I, uh.” Florus kneels down and takes a seat next to her. He keeps one arm wrapped around her shoulder. “You good?”

Gloria sends Florus a simmering glare because, like, of course not?! So why’s he even asking? As if anyone could be good after being barfed out of Final Days (and more)! Florus sucks in his lips and nods awkwardly to himself.

“I mean, yeah. Sorry. I know you’re not good. You’ve got literal roots tangled in your nerves and flowers coming out of your lungs and —“ Florus stops with a cringe. “…yeah. Sorry. Not good.”

“God, you suck at comforting people,” Gloria groans. “Where’s Ollie when you need him?”

“I don’t know. Dead, I guess?”

“Florus.”

“Sorry. I’m...” coping. He doesn’t say it.

Florus shifts uncomfortably in place and decides not to mention that his hallucination of Ollie is shaking his head no at him. He pulls Gloria closer and tensely breathes out.

“I’m sorry. Of all the people who should’ve lived, it should’ve been him,” he admits in a whisper.

“...What? And you shouldn’t have?!”

“Gloria, I’m not -- No. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, figure it out or shut the fuck up! You think I can handle you dying too?” Grief balloons in her chest, hot and near bursting. “God, I don’t even know how much time I have left. What the hell am I supposed to do? Where’s all this supposed to go?”

Florus swallows. It’s like his heart’s tied in a double knot and he can’t get anything out, can’t do anything right, but Gloria’s crying and he feels like crying, too. He tucks her face into the crux of his neck and presses his lips into the crown of her head.

“I don’t know, Gloria. I really don’t,” he mutters.

Gloria huffs grumpily.

“But nobody knows how much time they have left. You could get hit by a car and then, it doesn’t matter that you have some fucked up, plant cancer.”

“Great. Wow! I feel so much better.”

“Ugh, okay. Look. It’s not like you can pause life until everything is perfect. We’re living right now, so we have to live right -fucking- now, because we don’t know if we have it good or if things will get worse again.” Florus inhales deeply. “...But you’re alive. And I’m alive. And...yeah. It’s not over for us yet.”

There’s another heavy silence. Eventually, Gloria shuffles deeper into Florus’s arms and groans tiredly into his chest.

“You became such a sap while you were away, Flo.”

“You’re welcome.”

They laugh quietly. Gloria tries to fix her runny makeup, but no amount of fussing can undo tears. This is just how she looks now.

“...God, I really thought you were dead,” she mumbles.

“Me too.”

“Mm.”

And then, a dull absence. Florus and Gloria are both waiting for a third voice to chime in. The snow comes down hard; he can barely see the distant mountains now. Canyons, like scars, like rips in the landscape, in himself and in Gloria. There’s a hole where their friend should be. A hole, and a grave.

Florus wipes a streak of running mascara off of Gloria’s cheek.

“Let’s visit Ollie one day.”

#ff14 rp #Gloria Jen Gallus #Florus Jen Celsus #Tales from the Frost

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

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Slipping Away ~ Part 27

This is part 27 of the poly series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader x Robin

Word Count: 4261

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 17 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

!!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7/Enies Lobby arc (through episode 307).

Summary: More dangers block your path as the Straw Hats keep pushing to free Robin. Help arrives in unexpected ways.

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Polyamory, Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Injuries, (Including Reader), Pet Names, Cigarettes (they're gross, don't smoke), Swearing, Angst, Fear, Heights, Nausea, Throwing Up (just heaving, nothing comes out), Drowning, Reader is not doing great, Dizziness, Explosions, Fear of Death, Hurt/Comfort

A/N: Hi y'all, I'm so sorry about the wait! These chapters following the arc have been taking me longer, and I got distracted with other stories/requests. But I'm here now! The next update will be out within a week, as well as an extra scene. Thank you so much for being patient with me 🙏🏼🖤

Blood splattered on the ground as Usopp dragged himself to all fours, his wrecked body stiff, yet shaking.

“I’m sorry, Sanji,” he coughed, more blood spreading around him. “I tried, but I couldn’t…”

A silent sob left your throat as Nami struggled to guide your pathetic, limp body. Your limbs were dead after clinging for your life for so long, and you hated that you couldn’t help Usopp off the ground.

“You’re alive, that’s what matters,” Sanji declared, his voice rough with emotion. Water dripped from his blonde hair as his eyes flicked to you for a moment, before comforting your friend. “Everyone has things that they can do and things that they can’t.”

The lump in your throat did not help to reduce your frustration at your uselessness.

“Yeah, but,” Usopp mumbled, the wobble in his voice like a punch to the gut.

“Look outside,” Sanji commanded, Pointing through the gaping hole in the stone wall. The sight of those massive gates fell like a weight on your heart. A weight that stole your breath as it started to open, the huge metal slabs moving slowly, but not slowly enough.

“Robin,” Nami whispered, saying the name that you couldn’t with your dry throat.

“If those gates open up, and Robin goes through them,” Sanji warned, “we won’t have any way to follow her. She’ll cross waters infested with sea kings, then there’s the undersea prison, or the navy headquarters. Everywhere on the other side of those gates is beyond our reach. We’ll lose her forever.”

Sanji came to you, taking you from Nami’s arms to hold you against him for a moment. Your feet were getting a bit steadier, but his warmth was too much. You wanted to push him away as he kissed your temple, the tenderness shoving you closer to that edge of falling to pieces.

“This is the worst situation, but in every situation, even one as bad as this, there’s always a chance,” he comforted, his eyes on Usopp as he helped you step toward Nami.

She handed you her Clima-Tact, giving up her weapon for you to use as a makeshift cane before she pulled Usopp to his feet. His blood stained her clothes as she supported some of his weight with his bandaged arm around her shoulders.

Sanji leaned in close to the sniper, reaching to touch his shoulder, but let his hand fall before gripping the wounded flesh.

“I'm gonna stay here, and do what you can’t do. We’ll get those keys. You need to do what I can’t do.”

“Huh,” Usopp questioned, head tilting toward the cook.

“Think carefully, read the situation,” Sanji commanded, his rough voice giving you chills as the wolf man stalked ever closer. “As long as we have you there’s still a chance we can save Robin. You hear me, Usopp?”

Your bloodied friend started shaking, his question interrupted by a howl.

You heard the metal slash of blades as Zoro battled the giraffe man, and in an instant the wolf was on Sanji, your lover yelling for you to leave as he blocked the attack.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Nami ordered with a grunt, fighting Usopp’s struggle to call for Sanji.

“Ow, Nami,” he complained as she yanked at him, “I’m still injured.”

“Well, staying here and getting killed will hurt more,” she scolded, their stumbling forms moving past you.

Your boys. Teetering with the Clima-Tact, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from their fights. Battling agents of CP9, devil fruit users.

Blood, and broken stone, and hits that made you cringe.

Robin.

They can win. We need to save her.

Your movements were agonizingly slow, the makeshift cane slipping in your hands. Wiping your blood and dust stained palms on your shirt, you gritted your teeth, following Nami and Usopp out into the center stairway of the tower as fast as you could manage.

The trek down the stairs had barely started when Usopp pulled away from Nami. He was limping, but practically buzzing with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“I get it!”

“Get what,” you called as he started rushing back up the stairs.

“We can save Robin. As long as I’m here we can save her, damnit,” he declared with more true confidence than you’d ever heard from him before. Chills ran along your skin as the wounded sniper turned to face you, issuing a command that you had to follow.

“Let’s go!”

Nami took her weapon back, offering you her shoulder as Usopp’s burst of energy sent him scampering away faster than you could have gone on your own.

“Fuck, I’m slowing you down,” you hissed, fighting for your body to move, your head still reeling from that antler ride you’d like to forget.

“Didn’t you hear Sanji’s speech,” Nami scolded, supporting your sluggish steps. “We’re a crew, Y/N. Helping each other is what we do, stupid.”

Her comforting words pulled a small smile from your lips that was quashed almost immediately as you struggled up the endless stairs. Usopp’s cheerful yells pushed you forward, and your legs were slowly feeling steadier. It seemed your headache was the biggest issue, dizziness staying with you as your limbs relearned how to function.

Stepping into the sun was brutal. The light gray stone of the tower almost glowed beneath your feet, and you pulled away from Nami to cover your eyes from the glare. She wrapped your hand around her weapon again, moving ahead of you to watch Usopp at the edge.

You couldn’t get too close as your new fear of heights started closing your throat, so you stayed back. The bridge cut across the water in the distance, leading toward that now open gate, those massive metal doors like a gate to hell.

A hell that Robin was being dragged toward.

“I see her,” Usopp cried out, prepping his new weapon. With Kabuto held in front of him, and his broken mask still showing rays around his face, Usopp's shadow really did look like some mythical warrior.

Nami took your free hand, inching you closer, but you had to take it back. Holding it above your eyes to cut the glare, you stared at the bridge, desperate to see her.

You saw people. Very small people. Marines in white moving across the bridge.

“Watch this,” Usopp commanded, humming his silly Sniper King song as he lined up his shot.

An urge to stop him tore through you. It was too far away, how could he see her, let alone aim to ensure she wouldn’t be hit?

But he was your friend, even if he wasn’t part of your crew anymore. You trusted him, but still held your breath.

Then you saw her.

Two of those figures weren’t in white. One charged across the stone in a billowing, dark cloak. The other was in gleaming black, being dragged along the ground by the first.

This pathetic fucking man child. This scumbag that already didn’t deserve to open his stupid mouth again.

Spandam was dragging Robin behind him like she was trash. You wanted to rip his mask off, and smash his stupid mouth into the stone until he choked on his teeth.

“Get him,” you growled.

“On it.”

The terror of waiting was replaced with pride and sick pleasure at the sight of that small, cloaked figure being blown away from Robin. You hoped that the smoke erupting around his head was enough to strangle the air from his lungs.

Usopp hit him again, Spandam’s body flying down the steps of the bridge. And the sniper didn’t stop, sending blast after blast as those marines in white scattered, their shouts carrying across the water.

Without meaning to, your voice joined Nami’s, cheering for Usopp as he wreaked havoc on your enemies. The praise seemed to set him on fire, his shots flying faster, laughter on his lips, singing his song while he blew them away.

“Look,” Nami yelled, pointing toward that figure in black.

Robin had broken away from the chaos, and was stumbling as she ran away from that gate. Toward you.

“Usopp!”

You cried out, ice filling your veins while the marines stood in a line as they faced her. It was hard to see clearly, especially with your head still pounding, but you knew what those movements meant.

They were going to shoot her down.

Usopp kept shooting, but there were too many. There was no way he could take them all down in time.

The three of you screamed for her as she fell to her knees.

You couldn’t look. You couldn’t look away. You could only scream her name, and hope that she heard you. That she knew she wasn't alone.

The moment before the shots were fired lasted a century. A century in which you were trapped in stone, forced to watch and wait, helpless again.

Your eyes almost shut when the sound of death exploded from that line of guns. But if they had, you wouldn’t have seen it. The moment that filled you with more forgiveness and gratitude than you’d ever felt before.

Franky.

The man whose family had stolen from your crew, who’d hurt Usopp. The pervy cyborg whose family was now fighting at your side.

This strange man that you barely knew was standing in front of Robin, shielding her from the marines. He held his arms out, and took every single bullet that was meant for your love. For Robin.

“Hey! Sniper King? Needy?”

Zoro’s voice called up from what sounded like not too far down, but you couldn’t stick your head over the ledge to find out.

“We’ve got the rest of the keys. Catch, and send them to Franky,” Sanji commanded as your eyes returned to the bridge. Franky was still standing, still protecting her.

“Can you do that, Sniper King,” Sanji questioned, his voice filled with his belief in your former crewmate.

“Of course! Just throw the–”

“Catch,” Zoro yelled before a tied up bit of cloth came flying in front of Usopp.

Usopp caught it easily, tossing it in his hand.

“There’s more than keys in this.”

Usopp made you even dizzier as he leaned over to question the boys.

“We stole a snail off an agent,” Sanji’s voice carried up “You still have one right?”

“Yes,” you choked out, confirming that it had survived the monster ride with you.

“Fucking shoot it already,” Zoro yelled.

Nami untied the bundle in Usopp’s hand, adding the remaining keys before securing it, nodding at the sniper.

Everyone was silent as he aimed. This shot would mean her freedom.

“Franky! Robin!”

You were shouting in the poor snail’s face, until Franky turned to pick up that tied up cloth.

“Robin!”

“Y/N?”

“Oh gods, Robin,” you sighed through your tears.

Nami took the snail from your shaky fingers as she smoothed her hand along your back.

“All the keys are in the bundle. Franky, please unlock her!”

“Got it, but how did y’all–”

“Thank you, long-nose,” Robin interrupted. There was joy in her voice. Joy. “That was wonderful.”

“It was the least I could do,” Usopp declared in that silly, pompous voice. If he wasn’t so close to the edge of the building, you would have hugged him. “The true heroes are those who fought to retrieve those keys from the enemy. The Straw Hats will be proud to have you back. Hold your head up high, and meet them with a smile when all of this has ended.”

“Right,” Robin agreed, and even from a distance, you could see when she was freed. She stretched her arms above her head before pulling them down in front of her, and you knew exactly what was coming next.

“Seis Fleur.”

That powerful voice echoed through the transponder snail, just as a cloaked figure made its way to the front of the marines.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” Robin purred, arms sprouting from his dark clothes as she smacked the shit out of Spandam.

“Fuck yeah,” you cheered, hearing the cacophony of slaps, and the whimpering cries of that sniveling piece of shit.

The remaining marines scattered, rightfully fleeing in terror from her power.

“Alright, let’s move,” Franky ordered with a laugh. “Get your asses over here. I’ll get everything ready for ya. We’re gonna bail.”

“Got it,” Nami agreed, storing the snail while Usopp called down.

“Did you guys hear that? Robin’s free, Franky says–”

“Get down here already, Sniper King,” Sanji yelled.

You were squeezing the sides of your head, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The relief poured through your body, but almost made you feel more off balance.

“Ha, everything went according to my plan,” Usopp hummed as he limped toward the stairs. He stopped abruptly, making Nami grumble as she almost ran into him.

“What’s that,” he wondered, almost under his breath. “I swear I heard something.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta–”

Nami’s demand was cut short, all of you hunching and covering your ears as an explosion went off. It was easy to spot, a huge plume of black smoke rising from the metal fence surrounding the island. A marine ship firing on it’s own base.

“These psychos are really going to destroy their own fucking island, and kill all their own people because some dumbass pushed a button,” you seethed, hearing the boys calling for you.

Nausea rose as you neared that ledge again.

“Things have gotten serious, Needy,” Zoro urged, making you bravely peek down at him on the balcony below while Nami held your hand. “Hurry up, and jump down from there. We need to go now.”

“Jump,” you choked, glad that Usopp cut in to be cowardly for you.

“Is that supposed to be a joke? I don’t have the same kind of freakish superhuman strength that you guys have, alright. And my bravery is not the life risking kind. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a normal super hero not a super super hero–”

“Don’t be babies,” Nami teased. “We’re almost home.”

Nami called down before leaping off the edge.

“I’m fine,” she shouted as you looked over to see Sanji setting her down on her feet. “Come on, it was fu–”

At first you thought your body was fucking with you, all the looking down bringing that terror up. The crushing sound, the slipping of your unsteady feet, until there was nothing. Nothing holding you, nothing touching you, just you hanging onto the Clima-Tact as you spun.

The rough scrape of broken stone flying across your legs tore your eyes open, but you closed them immediately.

All that clinging, all that hell you went through to keep yourself from falling, and now you were falling to your death.

At least you got to hear your boys one last time, your name screamed from their lips.

It wasn’t stone.

The dreaded moment of impact came, along with the deep groan of whoever had caught you.

“Needy, are you–”

“putmedownputmedown.”

The Clima-Tact clattered to the stone of the balcony, and the top of the tower finished crashing to the ground while you fought to crawl away. Zoro’s warm hands were just another sensation too many.

But those hands held your hair back while you tried to throw up, soft voices floating around you as your head fought to split open. You whimpered as nothing came out, just spinning nausea, and your memory failing you as you tried to recall the last time you ate.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he soothed, pulling you against his chest after your empty retches had turned into frantic breaths. “We have to go now, Needy.”

As he pulled you to your feet, Nami was there, rubbing your arm as she checked on you. She offered you her weapon, but Zoro shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Needy, but we need to go faster than you can walk. Do you want me to carry you in my arms, or do you wanna ride on my back?”

Nausea rolled in at the thought, but you bit the inside of your cheek, motioning for his back. You saw Sanji and Usopp having the same debate, Usopp wincing as he moved.

“If you hadn’t torn my bandages–”

“If I hadn’t caught you, we would have had sniper crepes for lunch. Just get on,” Sanji demanded, until the five of you moved on three sets of feet.

Down those endless stairs, the sky burned through the roof that was no longer there. The rhythmic bouncing of Zoro’s body had you clenching your teeth, closing your eyes to fight the spinning.

I’m going to be dizzy for the rest of my life.

If we survive.

You only knew that you had made it to the bottom as the downward falling motion of Zoro’s steps on the stairs shifted to a steady up and down that was still just as bad.

“Please don’t ever pick me up after this, you groaned against Zoro’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be carried anymore. Ever.”

His chuckle was cut short as a familiar voice called out.

“This way, kiddies,” Kokoro ordered, and you opened your eyes just a bit to see her pointing down a dark corridor. Chopper was back in his normal, small form, his mouth hanging open in sleep as she had him strapped to her hip like some living purse.

“This leads to the bridge, come on!”

There was no time to argue or question. Just heavy steps echoing down the stone hallway that seemed to get colder with every step the swordsman took.

“Try to pick up the pace, we’re in a hurry here,” Usopp rushed over Sanji’s shoulder.

“I could probably run faster if you were unconscious,” your cook threatened, and you were shocked to feel a weak smile on your lips.

“How could you talk to your hero that way? Especially when I've been so seriously injured in the line of duty. All six of my ribs are broken!”

“You have more ribs than that,” Zoro huffed, pulling up beside them, “but if you don’t shut up, we’ll break the rest, and make you run. Got it?”

You smiled at Usopp from your carried positions as he kept complaining. Slowly, the feeling of a hammer hitting your brain was starting to lessen.

Not distant enough explosions had you tightening your body around Zoro’s back.

“We’re almost out.”

His whispered comfort almost sunk in.

“What’s that?”

“I hear something weird down the tunnel.”

Usopp and Nami had spoken at once. The group stared down that cold corridor as you kept heading toward freedom.

“We don’t have time to go worrying about weird sounds. We’ve gotta make those government jerks pay,” Kokoro said with a cough, still sounding drunk as if she’d been at the bar while you all fought for your lives.

“Is that–”

“It’s water,” Usopp cried out, cutting Nami off. “Don’t you hear it? We need to run!”

No one stopped. You couldn’t hear anything over the rhythmic slap of feet against stone, and Zoro’s heavy breaths as you rested your head against him.

“We have to turn–”

“We’ve got nowhere else to go,” Sanji huffed, “we need to keep moving no matter–”

“Holy shit,” Nami cursed beside you, her voice breathy as everyone stopped running.

“Hang on, Needy.”

You cracked your eyes open, the horrifying sight matching the sound you could finally hear.

Water.

Zoro slashed at the stone wall, but even his swords couldn’t break through.

“We’re underwater, dumbass,” Sanji spat as the group started running the other way.

Running for your lives.

The stone walls made that rushing sound echo, surrounding you even before the cold death touched your skin.

“I’ve got you,” Zoro promised through gritted teeth while he sprinted ahead.

As he passed your friends, you saw the terror burning through them, sweat dripping from their faces.

Your mind went hazy, just a little outside of your body as yet another chaotic force threatened those you loved.

Zoro flipped around as the sound roared too close, gripping your knees against his waist as he took the brunt of that liquid force.

You wished you had stayed dissociated, stayed out of your freezing body. Zoro’s rapid turn had shaken you enough that you took a deep breath, but it took every scrap of energy in you to keep your mouth closed, to not scream into that watery void.

Slipping, slipping away. The spinning torture through the rapid water had you reaching for your aching head, releasing your hold around his shoulders.

Zoro never let go. His hold started to slip, but he clamped down on your legs until they ached.

At least we’ll die together.

Your tears never had a chance, they just mixed with the wave that would drown you all.

“It’s alright. Just hang in there. I’m not going to let you die.”

A soothing voice washed over you, clear and calm through the flood. All you could do was fight to keep your mouth closed, letting yourself drift to wherever you might end up.

But something pulled at you, interrupting that chaotic drift. Your eyes opened, but the water burned, the world nothing more than a painful blur. Something had snared you, tugging you closer to Zoro, and you could feel another wriggling body against your side.

At least we’re all together.

“I’m swimming as fast as this tail will let me! None of you are gonna die on my watch!”

Kokoro’s voice carried through the water, and you almost cried out, managing to clamp your hands over your lips as the bodies around you seemed to writhe against the shock.

What the fuck?

But it was too long. You couldn’t hold it.

The choking pain tore through your chest, the struggle to stay finally fading.

Just cold.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Too many hands rolled you onto your side as scorching water tore through your throat.

Your stinging eyes watched the water that left your lungs as it spread across wood, staining the black clothes of the person holding your hair back.

The person whose many hands held your body, whose voice cracked as she repeated your name.

“Robin?”

She let out a cry of relief, pulling your body gently as she held you against her chest.

“Is this real,” you breathed, managing to move your arms to wrap around her.

“It’s real. You saved me.”

You felt the warmth of her cheek against your temple, and if you’d had the energy, you would have wept.

“I didn’t do–”

“You came for me, Y/N. And you saved me,” Robin countered before you could finish your thought. Many arms held you up so that she could look at you, and tears managed to fall from your tired eyes at the sight of her beautiful face. Stunning, even marred with dirt and blood.

“I love you too,” she confessed, a wave of fear filling those eyes before she cried it away, laughing before she kissed your cold lips.

It didn’t matter where you were, or how much danger you were still in. Robin was holding you, kissing you. The two of you laughed and sobbed as voices moved around you, orbiting your perfect world.

“Sweethearts, are you okay?”

Sanji’s rough voice moved closer, and you finally looked around to find yourself on a ship. An empty marine ship, whose deck was covered with your crew, and all the water they’d ripped from their lungs.

Your cook crawled over, seeming hesitant to get too close.

Robin reached out, and you smiled at that sweet look of awe on Sanji’s face as he gazed at her.

“I–”

“I love you, Robin,” Sanji cut her off, racing to touch both of you, a gentle hand on your cheeks.

“I love you too, Sanji,” she said with a laugh, and your heart melted as they shared their own salty kiss.

Cannon fire and shouting were distant as the three of you held each other, laughter and tears like a shield from the danger that remained.

But it wasn’t complete.

A shiver ran up your neck, a warm vibration pulling your eyes away from Robin and Sanji.

Zoro sat with his back against the railing, giving you a small smile as you caught him staring. He shook his head when you held out your hand.

A frown pulled at your smiling lips as he mouthed, ‘it’s okay,’ nodding his head toward your other lovers.

“Please,” you whispered, hoping he could see how much you wanted him too.

How much you needed him.

He coughed, wiping more water from his brow before he crawled across the deck.

You and Robin clung to each other, laughter and tears still spilling from you. Sanji poured out streams of praise and words of love as he hugged you both from behind Robin’s back.

Your swordsman came to you, and his soaked body warmed yours as he wrapped his arms around you. He joined the group embrace without flinching away, pressing a wet kiss against your shoulder.

It was all worth it. You’d go through all of that again, just to have this perfect moment.

All of your lovers holding you close. Safe, if only for the moment.

All of your crew on this stolen ship, ready to escape this hell.

All of your…

Zoro’s body went rigid, leaving you cold again as he leapt to his feet.

His words cut through it all. No more laughter or tears could be freed until his question had an answer.

“Where’s Luffy?”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I love them all so much 😭😭😭

Part 28

#nico robin x fem!reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x robin #angst #f/f fanfic #reader insert #fem!reader #nico robin x reader #poly fanfic #nico robin fanfic #sanji fanfic #one piece fanfic #zoro fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #use of y/n

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monako-jinn-stories · 11 months

Text

Echo X Fem!Reader FanFic

A Returning Echo ~ After the Citadel

Main Master List

Story Master List

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Thirty Eight

It's the moment I've been waiting for heheheh

The sky is grey as you push yourself up with weak arms. Explosions land all around you, lighting the sky up with flashes of red, orange, yellow, and white. The ground shakes as the Separatists continue to lay into your battalion. The only hope you have left is Bomber Squadron.

You look up to the sky as they fly overhead. You’re vaguely aware of Hex and Steele to your left, and Sans to your right. Aid is there too, wrapping up Steele’s leg as Hex holds him still through the agonizing screams. Aid turns and stands, taking a few running steps away before vomiting up his rations. You both turn to the sky at the same time, and now everyone is watching Bomber squadron.

And then you watch it all happen, and when it’s over, Aid vomits again.

***

Three Months Ago

“Aleiah!” Fives says cheerfully as he walks into the shop. Tup shares a look with Dogma, who just shrugs his shoulders, following behind the ARC who had said they were going on a very important retrieval mission.

“Fives! What a lovely surprise! It’s been too long,” Aleiah says, walking over to wrap him in a tight hold. “How have you been, my dear?”

“Fantastic! Living the soldier's dream.”

“More like nightmare,” Tup whispers to Dogma, who nods in agreement.

“Now, that’s not what I mean, boy. How have you been? And what about y/n?” she asks softly while giving him a sympathetic look.

“We both really miss him,” he sighs, leaning against the wall. “We try to be there for each other as much as possible. It’s just hard, you know?”

Aleiah nods, gently placing a hand on his arm. “I know you didn’t come here to talk about him, so what can I do for you?” The bright smile returns almost instantly to Five’s lips at her question, reminding him of why he’d come. “And who are these two handsome men with you?”

“This is Tup,” Fives says, throwing his arm around the younger trooper’s shoulders, who smiles shyly, “and this is Dogma. These are my two little shinies that I get to babysit.”

“Babysit?” Dogma says, “we’re not babies-”

“Shh, what did I tell you about talking to your superiors?” Fives says, putting a hand on his hip.

“You said the only people who get proper respect were the nat-borns, Cody, Wolffe, and Fox,” Tup speaks up.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Fives mumbles to himself. “Well, new rule: never disagree with Fives.”

“That’s a dumb rule,” Tup whispers to Dogma, who grimaces and nods again.

“Oh, be nice to them,” Aleiah says, walking over to shoo Fives away from Tup and Dogma, “Fives is a character, as I’m sure you’ve figured out already,” she says to them, “only listen to the serious stuff he says.”

“Hey, everything I say is serious!” he counters, frowning at her before she waves him off dismissively.

“So, may I ask again what brings you here?”

“Well, ARC-Trooper 5555-”

Dogma is cut off in the middle of speaking as Aleiah whacks him with a tape measure. “You should know by now to not use numbers, and say names instead.” She gives him a brief glare, and he swallows hard before nodding.

“Right, sorry, Mrs…”

“Orno. Aleiah Orno,” she says, giving him a kind smile now.

“Well, Mrs. Orno, ARC- er, Fives informed me and Tup that we were on an important retrieval mission.”

“Important retrieval?” she repeats, giving Fives a confused look. “I don’t have anything here. Unless someone broke in and hid something.”

“Oh, I was wrong,” Fives says, stepping forward, “I meant a special request mission.”

“Wait, are you saying that you drug us out here to ask for something?” Tup questions, and Fives gives him a wide grin.

“Precisely,” he confirms before turning back to Aleiah. ��I need a custom baby onesie.”

“A baby onesie?”

“Yeah, it’s for y/n. She…she never got the chance to tell Echo.” Aleiah places a hand gently on Fives’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He smiles at her softly before composing himself again. “I want her little girl to have a onesie from her best uncle.”

“So you want one that says Hex?” Aleiah teases, earning an amused snort from both Tup and Dogma.

“Haha,” Fives says while rolling his eyes, shooting the shinies a glare.

Aleiah moves away from him, walking over to her counter while mumbling to herself. “There it is! Now,” she says, holding a datapad in her hand, “go ahead and tell me the details.”

“Well, I want the front to say ‘ARC-5555’ across the top, with a giant ‘#1’ in the middle, and ‘UNCLE’, on the bottom. Then on the back, I want it to say ‘Fives’, across the top, with a giant ‘5z’ below it. Here,” he says, reaching into his pocket, “I have a picture I drew.” He hands her a very poor drawing of the shirt design he had imagined, and she holds back her own amused snort as she takes it.

“Well, we know Fives could never make it as an artist,” Dogma whispers to Tup.

“Alright,” Aleiah says, pinning the drawing to a board full of notes, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much, Aleiah. You never fail to make the best clothes!” Fives says. “Oh, speaking of which, we need some 501st pj’s for these two as well.”

“Normal measurements?” she asks, and Fives nods. “Alright, I’ll get on those as soon as I can. Come back next zhellday, and everything should be ready.”

“Thanks again!” Fives says, shoving the shinies through the door, “you’re the best!” Aleiah chuckles to herself as she watches Fives run along with the shinies trailing behind, who are no doubt wondering what in the world is going on.

***

You’re frozen in place as you watch the smoke rise up. You can hear yelling all around you, and faintly feel a hand on your shoulder, trying to shake you back to reality. You turn to see Sans’s desperate eyes, and you finally snap yourself out of it and push yourself to run over. Smoke engulfs you as you run forward, and you shoot your arms out, carelessly using the force to throw rubble out of your way as you search.

***

Two Months Ago

Mai-Lee walks in to see you and Echoa laying on the floor, with you watching as she crawls around. She’s been learning and growing fast, much faster than normal babies. It’s almost as though she has accelerated growth. Doctors and scientists have run tests, and you’re currently waiting for results. Could Echo’s quickened aging have passed on to her? “You have a visitor,” Mai-Lee says, smiling as Echoa waves a tiny fist at her. She walks in and kneels down, taking Echoa into her arms and poking her nose. “They have a gift for you,” she says as Echoa giggles.

You smile and watch as Mai-Lee sets Echoa back down before standing. “Will you send them in?”

“He was right behind me,” she sighs, setting a hand on her hip. “That man, I swear.”

“Fives?” you guess, and she nods in confirmation. “Tell me about it. He never knocked, either. Not even when he knew me and Echo were busy.”

“I feel bad for Shaak Ti having to deal with him,” she giggles.

“At least he’s not as bad as Anakin,” you reply, “I don’t even want to imagine what Padmé puts up with.”

The sound of footsteps running down the hall catches everyone’s attention, and Echoa perks up when she hears Fives calling out. “I’m coming, Echoa!” He practically crashes into the room, catching himself against the doorframe at the last minute. “There’s my little princess!” he says, rushing over to pick her up and spin her around. Her giggles filled the room and a smile shines on Fives’s face before he holds her against his chest.

“What brings you to Dohbar?” you ask, and Fives shoots you a look.

“Echoa, obviously.”

“I can see that,” you reply, waving to Mai-Lee as she excuses herself. Fives sits down next to you, setting Echoa in his lap before taking the bag he has off his shoulder.

“I have a gift for you,” he says, and she patiently looks up at him before he takes out a little baby onesie. You read what it says and then let out a long sigh, shaking your head. “What, you don’t like it?”

“You’re borderline Anakin level ridiculous,” you reply. He just ignores your comment before flipping it around so you could see the back. “Are you really expecting me to put that on my daughter?”

“Yes,” he immediately replies, and you let out another sigh before snatching it from him and picking up Echoa, carrying her over to the table to change her outfit. Once she’s in it, you hold her out for Fives to take into his arms. He has the biggest smile on his face as he holds her, and you can feel the joy radiating, even without the help of the force. “It’s perfect!” he says, and you let a small smile come to your lips as you shake your head.

“You’re going to spoil her too much,” you comment, leaning back and using your arms to hold you up.

“Non-sense,” he counters, “it would be impossible to spoil her too much.”

***

This wasn’t a part of the plan. This should never have happened. That cannon had been destroyed, you had been sure of it. There’s no way it could have been operable, and even if it was, it could never have made that shot.

But it did.

***

One Month Ago

“So, the results of the tests came back,” you say as you hand Fives a drink you’d just poured. You clink your glasses together before both taking a sip. Shaak Ti isn’t drinking tonight, but she’d joined Fives on his trip to Dohbar to finally meet Echoa.

“And?” she asks, Fives nodding in agreement to her curiosity.

“She does in fact age faster,” you reply. “It seems as though she doesn’t age as fast as the clones, though. Instead of aging at a rate of two years for each year, she ages at a rate of 1.5 years for each year.”

“So, how old is she technically right now?” Fives questions, and you think for a moment.

“I guess she would be…three months? Since she’s technically only two months old.”

“She’s growing fast then,” Shaak says, “Are you sure you want to go back so soon? You might miss some important moments.”

“I don’t have any other choice,” you sigh before taking another drink. “The Council is already on me about it, and besides, I don’t want to wait much longer. I’m getting antsy.”

Shaak takes a sip of her non-alcoholic drink, and you can tell she’s holding a comment back. You know some Jedi don’t approve of your eagerness to fight, despite them knowing you came from a warrior-based planet.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get back out into the battles,” Fives starts, “but you have to keep your daughter in mind. You’re her only surviving parent, and I know Kwol and Ahni would take care of her for you if anything happened, but still.”

“You have to ask yourself what you care about more,” Shaak adds, “your life as a Jedi, or your life as a mother.”

You drink the last bit of your drink before setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “Echoa’s awake,” you say, standing and swiftly moving to the door, “I’ll be heading to bed after I check on her.” You don’t see their reactions, but Fives nods before finishing his own drink while Shaak lets out a sigh, her fingers tapping nervously on her glass. She didn’t mean to upset you, but she’d spoken honestly.

You usually fought with only a small care for yourself, mostly worried about your troopers, but now you had someone else to fight for, to survive for. And as you look down at her in your arms, lolling back to sleep, you know Shaak is right. But you can’t choose between the two lives, just like you couldn’t choose between being queen and a Jedi. It’s all or nothing with you, and you’re determined to make it work.

You set her back in her cradle, brushing the hair from her face,. She sleeps with her mouth slightly open, and you can’t help the absolute love you feel flow to her through the force. And when she subconsciously sends her own love back, your heart feels full to the bursting point.

***

The body is so mangled that you can barely even recognize him, and if not for the signature paint on his armor, or the way your eyes had been following him ever since you saw the cannon blast, you wouldn’t have been able to name him. His hair isn’t even recognizable as his own style. A sob leaves you again, and your knees shake as you fall to the ground at his side.

***

Two weeks ago

You wait in the hangar for your newest guest to arrive. You had thought he was joking when he said he would visit your daughter, but you should have known better. It is Cad Bane, after all.

Your hands rest on your hips as you impatiently stand there, and you can’t help but wonder if he is purposely late just to get on your nerves.

No, you think to yourself, he’s a professional. He’s not late unless there’s a good reason.

A gurble from the ground catches your attention, and you look down to see your daughter sitting up and waving her arms widely. You let a small amused smirk come to your lips before you turn fully to her. “What is it, Echoa?” you ask gently. She scrunches her face and lets out an annoyed sound, waving her arms more frantically. “Do you want me to pick you up?” She beams at that, and you let out a huff. “Two minutes ago you wanted to be sitting on the ground,” you mumble to yourself while bending to pick her up. Just as you turn back around to gaze out of the hangar, you see a ship flying in, one you don’t recognize, but can clearly tell it’s owned by Bane. “Time to meet your bounty hunter uncle,” you say in a tone that would suggest slight irritation as you walk towards the ship.

“Now, don’t be like that, little lady,” Bane says as he walks down the boarding ramp. He twirls his toothpick in his mouth before smirking and glancing down. “Oh, what a doll,” he says, reaching out towards Echoa. You hesitantly let him take her into his hold, and watch as she stares up at him while she’s in his arms.

“So, what brought you here?” you ask, motioning for him to follow you inside.

“I thought it was about time to meet her,” he replies, and you let out an amused snort. “Fine, I was on my way back from a bounty and thought I should stop by.”

“That’s more like it,” you mumble. “I’m afraid you can’t stay here for long. I’m heading back to Coruscant today.”

“Already?” he asks, pausing in his steps to look at you with a questioning look. You just shrug and nod, and he looks down at Echoa again. “I’ve heard things. People making up their own theories. I’ve done as best I can to keep her name and life out of the underworld, but it’s not exactly easy.”

“I appreciate all that you have and are able to do.”

He waves his hand dismissively, gently brushing a hand down Echoa’s cheek. “I can see for myself that some theories are true, or have some truth to them. She ages faster, doesn’t she?” he asks, and you swallow hard before nodding. “With her father being a clone trooper, it isn’t hard to guess,” he assures you. “There was no leaked information. I haven’t even heard her name uttered yet.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” you sigh, taking a seat on a couch. You motion for Bane to join you, and he sits across from you in a chair. “I can’t stay here forever though, and I’ve already explained it so many times.”

“I know, little lady,” he says, “I know you well. But I also know you’ve heard this many times from many others, but I’ll be the next to say it. You have to keep her in mind when you make decisions, especially ones that endanger your life.” You bite your tongue to keep your snark from coming out, and just nod. He’s right, everyone else has said that, and it’s the truth. But it doesn’t make it any easier. “Would you want a body guard for her? Someone who can keep a constant eye out? I’d be happy to give you a discount for my services.”

This time, you let out an audible laugh at his words. “Bane, we both know I’d never say yes to that.”

“It was worth a try.”

“I appreciate the offer, but she’s plenty safe here. Besides, wouldn’t your presence here just bring more attention?”

“It might,” he admits, “but then again, I’d have your royal guard to keep me safe as well.”

“She’ll be fine without you,” you say, and your tone ends the topic. “I need to get ready,” you say while standing up. “You can stay with her for a little bit longer, or you can go ahead and fly out.”

“I suppose I should get going myself,” he says, standing up before handing Echoa back to you. He leans down and places a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering, “take care, little doll.” He then straightens up and looks at you, an authentic smile gracing his lips. “We’ve known each other for a long time,” he starts, “and I know how much you’ve been through. I’m proud of you, y/n. More than you could ever know.”

“Thank you, Cad,” you reply, returning the smile, “I’m glad you’ve stuck with me this long, and through everything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you fall,” he says before moving closer and planting a kiss on your forehead. “Goodbye, little lady. Take care, for all of us.” You nod and watch him leave, heading back towards the hangar. No one would ever quite understand your bond, but he was the one who first discovered how poorly your adoptive parents had treated you. How you’d been kidnapped and a ransom was set, and the former king and queen just told the bounty hunter to keep you, do what he wanted with you. That you were a burden to them anyway, and they’d be better off without you. He’d also been the one to hand you back to Codo, and make sure he understood that you were to be taken care of, and if anything else serious happened to you, Bane would find Codo and punish him.

Just before he reaches the hangar door, you notice Mai-Lee almost run into him. He catches her as she tries to stop herself, clearly in a rush. You snort in amusement as you watch Mai-Lee’s cheeks warm as she profusely apologizes, and then watch her almost crumble when Bane lifts her hand up to his lips to place a gentle kiss before letting her hand go and giving her a tip of his hat as he pushes open the doors to the hangar.

***

Wake up, you tell yourself. Wake up, it’s just a dream. It’s all in your head, it’s not real.

You sit up and let out a yelp, chest rising and falling as you pant and try to catch your breath. Sweat drips off of your body, and you distantly feel your limbs trembling. You let out a sigh, briefly reveling in the fact that it was just a dream.

But then again,

Jedi don’t ‘just dream’.

The hum of the Venator lights in your bunk area are like sirens in your ears. Pushing yourself up off of the bunk, you feel layers of sweat rolling down your body as you stand. It isn’t hot in here, in fact it’s kind of chilly, but the dream you’d just had set your body temperature soaring. Fear and anxiety shake your legs as you stumble towards the refresher.

Quickly slipping your clothes off, you jump in the shower, spraying cold water and then hot water onto yourself. You want to wash the sweat off, and burn out the images in your mind. It couldn’t have been a vision, it’s not possible. You’ve never had one before, why would you start having them now? And if it was a vision, then why did it have to be him?

You pull yourself from the safety of the refresher and redress in clean clothes before heading up to the bridge. As you walk past troopers, they nod and greet you, many of them having not seen you in quite a while. You smile back to them, exchanging pleasantries before continuing on.

“There she is,” Steele says as you finally join him, Hex, Sans, and Aid on the bridge. “We were about to send Sans to go get you.”

“Sorry,” you reply, “I feel asleep, and then I had a quick rinse off.”

“Well, you’re just in time,” Hex says, “we’re about to leave hyperspace, and then make our way down to the surface.”

“Shall we run through the plans one last time?” Sans asks, and everyone agrees. While you stand there listening, you can’t fight it when your mind wanders to that dream. Certain parts of the plan might go wrong and provide the chance for it to come true, and that’s what makes it hard to focus.

A gentle hand on your shoulder brings you back to the holotable in front of you. You blink a few times before looking up to see concern in everyone’s eyes. “Are you okay, y/n?” Aid asks you, and you turn to see his hand still on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re breathing heavily and you look pale.”

“I just…” you start, shaking your head before finishing. “Bad dream, that’s all.”

“Dream?” Steele questions, exchanging a look with his twin, “Jedi don’t dream. They have visions, right?”

You shake your head, fists clenching at your sides briefly. “No. For the sake of my sanity, and anxieties, I need to believe it was just a dream.”

Steele and Hex exchange another look, and Sans takes a step closer to you. “Do you want to tell us about it?”

“No,” you instantly respond, eyes going wide before leaving him and finding that one trooper you’d dreamt of. When your eyes rest on him, your mouth goes dry, and you barely whisper out, “I can’t.”

The members of Jawa Squad, save for Tie who isn’t with the group, all look towards where your eyes went, and you feel them freeze in place. Steele reaches out to squeeze Hex’s wrist for stability, and Hex just keeps a stoic expression. Aid swallows hard, and you can tell he’s fighting back a wave of nausea.

“We won’t let it happen,” Sans says, his tone uncharacteristically stern and serious, almost as though he’s commanding it to the galaxy. “We can’t.”

As the Venator comes out of hyperspace, you watch as the trooper stands up. When he notices everyone looking at him, he gives his signature smile and waves before shooting finger guns as he begins to walk closer. Steele releases Hex’s wrist with a sigh, and Hex glances at his twin from the corner of his eye, giving a brief nod of assurance.

“So, are we all ready to go?” you hear Tie, who is now with you and the rest Jawa squad, ask, and you turn slightly to give him a nod. “Great! I’ll go get the transport pilots ready,” he says before heading off, speaking into his comms to tell everyone to get to the hangar.

“It’ll all be okay,” Aid says to you, and you can tell he’s also trying to convince himself. You give him a smile, nodding again. It seems like you can’t speak, the fear of what may happen is silencing you, and you don’t know what you could possibly say if you do end up finding that mangled clone body.

You lead the rest of the troopers on the bridge down to the hangar, and wait until everyone is on board their transports before you hop into your starfighter. Maybe if you did things a little differently than normal, then he might survive. Or maybe going away from the normal is what killed him in the dream. You lean forward and rest your head in your hands, the stress over this getting to you. Taking deep breaths, you try to calm your nerves before you sit up and look out the view port.

“Are we ready to take off?” you ask over the comms, and Tie replies with an all-set. You lead the way out, flying over to where the main camp will be. When Jawa Squad lands, you hop out and join up with them. You exchange brief nods before Hex and Steele take their part of the battalion, while you and Sans take your part. Tie lingers in the camp with Aid, and you watch them closely, memorizing them as they are now.

“It’ll be okay,” Sans says, gaining your attention by resting a hand on your shoulder. You just give him a weak smile, nodding silently before stepping forward to begin to lead the troopers. Each step you take sends a wave of guilt through you, and you have to fight your urge to stop and go find that one trooper and tell him to just go back to the Venator and wait in safety until the battle is over. But that wouldn’t work, either. He’s not the type to sit back and watch his brothers die while he’s in safety. Especially not those in his squad.

“We can do this,” you say suddenly, setting your mind.

Sans turns to you and you can feel the smile from under his helmet. He nods and raises his blaster, turning back to the enemy. “After you, General Jinn.”

You let out a snort at the title and give him a playful nudge before igniting your lightsaber and running out of the cover you had been marching in, exposing yourself to the enemy.

It seems like all in the same second, the sound of battle explodes from everywhere. Troopers charge behind you as you begin deflecting enemy shots. It doesn’t take long for the Separatists to start using their cannons, and Tie isn’t yet back with the other pilots to drop your own explosives on them. They had been ready for you and you’ll end up paying the price.

“We need to prioritize taking out those cannons,” you yell into the comms.

“Two groups of five take each cannon,” Sans shouts into his, “one group focus on taking out the cannon, and the other group focus on providing support and cover fire.”

“On it!” a few troopers respond, and you watch as they grab others close by before heading off. You watch as Uma, Skipper, Bullseye, Ripple, and Lightweight decide to head off, and you can’t help but feel a rush of fear run through you. You take a step towards them, but Sans’s hand on your shoulder stops you. He shakes his head slowly, and you give him a pleading and fearful look, but he just tightens his grip.

“They’ll be okay,” he replies, before the sound of shrieks rips through the air. You instantly turn and run towards them, towards the sound, out of Sans’s grip, and you see them on the ground with smoke coming from nearby. You can only beg the Maker to have let them get out of the way in time. As soon as you reach them, though, the cannon fires again.

The ringing in your ears is the first thing that you notice. Next is the pain in your body, mainly in your head. Then you the smell of burnt plastoid comes from all around you, and your heart lurches into your throat. You swallow hard, trying to keep yourself from being sick. When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with Lightweight lying motionless beside you. You try and choke out words, but all that comes is a cough.

The sky is grey above you, and you feel yourself absentmindedly pushing yourself up with weak arms. It feels as though you’ve done this before, and you don’t feel in control of your actions. It’s almost like you’re just watching yourself go through the movements, unable to stop them.

Explosions land all around you, and the sky lights up with flashes of red, orange, yellow, and white. It would make a beautiful painting if all those colors were swirled and mixed together. But this isn’t art, this is war.

The ground shakes and you nearly lose your balance as the Separatists continue to lay down the fire on you and your battalion. Thankfully, it seems that their numbers have dwindled down greatly, and the only real threat is the cannons.

You feel the bile rise in your throat as you realize that there aren’t enough troopers to be able to fight the droids and take down the cannons. That leaves only one option, and you nearly sob at the thought of it. Your only hope left is Bomber Squadron.

Almost as though you hear it from a distance, your comm screams with the words of Sans commanding Tie to take out the remaining cannons. You hear Tie respond, but his words don’t register to you. Just the sound of his voice, the hope, the pride. The bravery.

A groan of pain catches your attention, and just a couple meters away, you see Hex and Steele on the ground. You hadn’t realized earlier that you were so close, but it doesn’t matter now. Not with what you see. Steele’s right leg is missing from the knee down, and Hex is shouting at others to get help, to get Aid. You swallow hard again before finally looking back at Lightsweight’s squad. You can’t feel any of their force signatures, and your heart breaks as you realize you lost them all. Uma, Skipper, Bullseye, Ripple, and Lightweight are dead, all because you hadn’t been there in time to save them.

The sound of gunships catches your attention, and your heart stops beating, your lungs stop breathing, as you look up to the sky. Bomber squadron flies overhead, and you feel the blood drain from your face. Your hands shake at your sides, but all you can do is stand and watch.

You’re only vaguely aware of Hex and Steele to your left, but Aid is there now as well. He’s wrapping up Steele’s leg while Hex holds him still through all the agonizing screams. You’ve never heard such noises from Steele, and you never want to again.

Once he’s done with Steele’s leg, Aid stands and turns to walk away, before taking a few running steps. You watch as he vomits up his rations, and anything else that might be in his stomach. You can feel the fear coming from him, even though you’re not close by. It’s strong, and you feel more hurt pile onto you. Sans runs over to Aid, holding him gently as he trembles on his knees.

You and Aid make eye contact once he regains his composure, and you hold it for a few seconds before the sound of gunships catches your attention again. You both turn to look at the sky as Bomber squadron flies over, and everyone else around you watches as well. Your heart seems to both race and not beat at all, and your lungs don’t feel like they’re working. Even your vision threatens to give out, but you will your body to keep working.

There’s nothing you can do but watch as it happens. The blast from the cannon fires in slow motion, and every second drags out as it flies towards the squadron. Of course, it had been aimed at the ship in front, and leaders are always in the front of the squadron. Tie is always in the front of the squadron.

In what feels like hours, but is only a matter of seconds, the blast hits Tie’s fighter, and you let out a scream as you shoot your arm out, trying to use the force to somehow make him dodge it, or fling the blast away from him. But it’s no use, and his ship is already plummeting to the ground.

The sound of it crashing onto the ground is one that will haunt you forever. The metal crumbling and fracturing cuts through the battlefield like a knife. Somehow, your knees are still holding you, and from your side, you hear Aid vomit again. Steele is screaming out in grief now, with Hex holding onto him for dear life as he too trembles where he kneels. Their eyes are locked on the ship, just like yours. All the comes from Sans is silence.

You’re frozen in that spot as you watch the smoke rise up from the wreckage. You can’t will yourself to move, to go check to make sure he didn’t somehow survive. Maybe you’re hoping that if you don’t go over, you’ll see Tie fly above you, saying something snarky over the comms about needing to get home to his boyfriend. But the yelling that’s all around you proves that you’re hopes are wrong.

You faintly feel a hand rest on your shoulder, trying to gently shake you back to reality. You don’t notice until then that tears are streaming down your face, and you’re screaming where you stand. The feeling of your throat going raw gets you to stop, and you turn to see Sans’s desperate eyes. It’s then that you’re finally able to pull yourself back together and run over to where Tie’s ship crashed.

Smoke engulfs you as you run forward, and your heart pounds in your chest with each step you take. You don’t know how you’re even running, as your legs feel like lead. When you reach the wreckage, you throw your arms out, carelessly using the force to try and throw rubble out of the way as you search for him.

This hadn’t been a part of the plan. It should never have happened. The cannon that hit his ship shoulder have been destroyed, it was destroyed. You saw it yourself. There’s no way it could have been able to shoot him down, even if it had somehow been operable. But it wasn’t destroyed, and it was operable, and it had shot him down.

When you finally find him, Tie’s body is so mangled that you can barely even recognize him. If not for the signature paint on his armor, you might have been able to convince yourself it was someone else. But your eyes had been following him ever since you saw the cannon blast, and you knew it had to be him. If you didn’t have these clues, you never would have been able to name the trooper as Tie.

When you pull off his helmet to take his pulse, his hair isn’t even recognizable as his own style. It’s matted with blood, and you look away from it before you see too much. There’s no mistaking the way his eyes are closed, or the way you don’t feel a pulse or breathing. Your knees shake and you fall forward on your hands. You’re sobbing at his side, unable to do anything else but beg the Maker that this isn’t real.

Wake up. Wake up, it’s just a dream. It’s all in your head, it’s not real. Wake up. Please.

When you open your eyes again, it’s the same as when you closed them. You let out a wail of agony as you punch the nearest piece of metal. You don’t notice how your hand starts to bleed, or how the skin on your knuckles is ripped away. All you can see is Tie laying lifelessly in front of you.

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dangraccoon · 1 year

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Oyuba’din - Chapter 9: Place

Original Characters & The Bad Batch

Summary: Jainera and her new friends discover an aspect of her curse, and meet with some very important leaders.

Warnings: forgotten memory, pain, mention of parental death, mention of grooming/ped*philia

Author’s note: this is the conclusion to Jaine’s flashback story arc! We’ll be back with our Beloved Bad Batch at the end of the week! Thank you all so much for your continued support!

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“Jainera,” Obi Wan called, knocking lightly on the door to the medbay, which had become her own little room for the week of hyperspace travel needed to get from Qoljak to Coruscant. “We should be arriving in a few hours.”

“Obi Wan!” Jaine shouted from within, the door sliding open. “Come in! How do I look?”

Jaine twirled a little as her friend stepped into the room, showing off the long dress he and Qui Gon had gotten her when they stopped to refuel.

“It looks wonderful,” Obi smiled warmly. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes! It’s perfect,” she said, wrapping the man in a hug, which he happily returned.

It had taken a few days for her to emerge from her shell, only really coming back to life when they wandered into a market when they stopped. The night market was busy; lots of sights, smells, lights, and people that Jaine was entirely unfamiliar with, the war-torn streets and endless conflict of her home having been all she had known for over a decade.

“Could you help me with this?” she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts and handing him a small pendant on a chain.

He nodded, indicating for her to turn around and he fastened the clasp at the nape of her neck. “It’s a lovely pendant. Where did you get it?”

Jaine paused, her face falling a little. “I- I can’t remember,” she said, looking at the small charm. She winced a little, a sharp pain striking between her ears.

Obi Wan sensed this, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, shaking her head as though to shake off the pain. “Just a bit of a headache.”

Obi Wan moved to a cabinet, retrieving a pain killer from it, and giving it to Jaine with a hydropak. She thanked him, taking the medication.

Obi Wan watched her carefully. “Have you remembered anything else about your escape that day?”

Jaine scowled, trying to concentrate. The pain grew in her head, but she pushed it aside, digging for the memory of that day.

“Jainera?” Obi Wan questioned, watching her. She was beginning to sway a little. He placed his steadying hands on her upper arms. “Jainera.”

Her eyes screwed together even tighter, a few tears slipped from them.

“Jainera? Jainera, look at me!”

“What’s going on?” Qui Gon said, rushing into the room.

“She’s done it again,” Obi Wan worried. “Every time she tries to think back to her escape, she becomes unresponsive until she passes out.”

“Let’s move her to the table.”

Obi Wan guided Jaine to the medical table, concern flooding his senses.

“Obi Wan, would you say this is typical for these episodes?” Qui Gon, prompted, bringing his apprentice back to the present. He was gesturing to the small amount of crimson energy pooling around her hands like a liquid smoke.

“That’s new,” he said warily. Slowly, his hand extended to touch the red energy, perplexed by the substance.

“Don’t,” ordered his master without looking away from Jaine’s face. “Keep her safe.”

Qui Gon touched his fingers to Jaine’s temples, closing his eyes to concentrate. Quickly, his mind was flooded with images of a small girl growing up fighting a war. A figure, the Uncle she spoke of, comforting and guiding her after the loss of the parents. Another man, but the features were obscured, almost out of focus. This was the source of the pain. This man was kind to her and acted as another mentor. Soon, he noticed, the man’s attention changed. It became something more, something that made Qui Gon’s stomach turn. He pushed that aside, attempting to focus on this man. He helped her escape. He got her onto the doomed ship. Who was this man? A bright blue energy, with similar properties to Jainera’s red, shone around this man.

“Kuna!” Jaine screamed, sitting bolt upright, nearly headbutting Qui Gon in the process.

“Jainera, it’s alright,” Obi Wan soothed, his arms encircling her.

Jaine sobbed onto Obi Wan’s shoulder. She realized she was coated in sweat and tears. Qui Gon fell onto a chair his padawan had placed for him. “How long?” he asked.

“An hour or so. She developed a fever, but it seems to have broken now.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Qui Gon ordered. “We should be arriving on Coruscant shortly.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Jaine whimpered between sobs. “I d-didn’t mean to-”

He shushed her. “It’s alright. You’re going to be alright.”

“This is Coruscant?” Jaine asked, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight.

“Yes,” Qui Gon replied.

“It’s so…”

“Busy?” Obi Wan supplied.

“Dark,” Jaine finished. “There’s no green here. Where are all the plants and animals?”

“There are bits of natural life around, but not quite as much as you’re used to,” Qui Gon explained. “Come, we are to meet with the council.”

Jaine followed the two men to a different port, this one with a speeder and driver to whisk them away to the Jedi Temple. The master and apprentice seemed to be having a silent conversation as they rode.

“What’s that building?” she asked, pointing to a large dome with many speeders coming and leaving from it.

“That is the Galactic Senate Building,” Obi Wan stated, looking to where she pointed. “I don’t care much for politics.”

“What’s that one?” she pointed again.

“That is our destination,” Qui Gon said. “The Jedi Temple.”

“While I am unfamiliar with the power this girl holds, I am certain she can learn how to use them here,” Qui Gon explained, looking around at the High Council members.

“Bring her in,” Mace Windu nodded at Obi Wan.

“What is your name, child?” Depa asked when Jaine was situated in front of the council.

“Jainera Vale, ma’am,” Jaine stated, hoping that the nervousness she felt didn’t impact her voice.

“Can you demonstrate your abilities for us?” Depa requested with a small smile.

Jaine swallowed hard, nodding a little. She tried to concentrate, her hand trembling as she held it out in front of her.

“Calm yourself you must,” an unfamiliar voice hummed in her head. The sudden intrusion scared her, but she didn’t show it, sure it was something to do with these people’s powers.

She felt a touch at the back of her mind, someone was asking for entrance. She allowed it, showing the new presence her story.

Jaine took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. She felt the familiar energy begin to appear at her hand, filling her palm and spilling over, yet disappearing before it hit the ground.

The Council looked on in fascination, occasionally exchanging looks between themselves.

“What is it that this power can do?” Plo Koon asked.

Jaine looked to Qui Gon, who simply nodded encouragingly.

“I don’t know everything about it,” Jaine said. “I-I didn’t have a chance to learn much.”

“Have you always had this power?”

“No, those who are chosen gain their power around age five.”

Depa leaned forward in her chair a little. “Chosen? Who is it that chooses?”

“No one knows,” Jaine scowled. “My Uncle said that the Chromas are chosen by fate, that’s why when a Chromai dies, their powers are transferred to the right person and how that person is the right age.”

“From Qoljak, you are,” Yaddle spoke up. “The one who sent Master Jinn and his apprentice to aid Verse Gravank and Dash Hamme, I was.”

Yaddle stood from her chair, moving to look closer to Jaine’s hand.

“Chromas they were. Powerful,” Yaddle said, looking up at Jaine. “Their fate, what was?”

Jaine’s heart beat loudly in her chest. “They- I-” she stammered.

“The entire moon was devastated by a meteor shower. Jainera was the only survivor,” Qui Gon said.

Yaddle hummed, returning to her seat. Jaine let her power fade, thankful not to concentrate on it more.

“Been cursed, I sense she has,” Yoda finally spoke.

“Cursed?” Obi Wan asked, earning a sharp look from his master.

“I sense it as well,” agreed Plo Koon.

There were a few other nods and agreements amongst the council.

“Teach to use her power, we cannot,” Yoda said.

“There must be something we can do to help her,” Obi Wan protested, despite the glare from Qui Gon.

“Be careful, Padawan Kenobi,” Mace Windu warned. “Your connection to the girl could cause you harm.”

Jaine sniffled a little, irritated that this man was talking as though she were not there to hear, but she said nothing.

“Perhaps we can send her to the Circle of Healers,” suggested Depa Billaba. “They may be able to remove this curse from her.”

Yoda considered this, nodding a little. “Accompany the girl, Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi will. Discuss her fate, the Council must.”

Qui Gon and Obi Wan bowed deeply to the council, so Jainera did the same.

They left the room and began their journey through the halls.

“Scared, she is,” noted Yaddle.

“This is unsurprising,” Plo Koon agreed. “She was raised in a civil war and saw the destruction of her race.”

“How was she able to survive the meteor shower that killed the rest of Qoljak?” Adi Gallia spoke up. “Master Jinn stated that they found her amongst the wreckage of a ship, of which the other two passengers had not survived.”

“The curse, it is,” Yaddle stated. “Allowed me into her memories, she did. Share them, I must.”

The Council’s eyes fluttered closed, all beginning to meditate on the memories Yaddle had seen.

Images of Jaine began to flood their minds. Gaining her powers, the way her naturally dark hair started growing crimson uncontrollably, the smallest little sparks of red. The ceremony where she was declared the new Crimson Chromai. Her Uncle, the Violet Chromai, in a heated argument with her parents. The death of her parents a few years later in a fire so hot that the flames were nearly blue. Her Uncle’s training; endless, gruesome, torturous even. Images of the civil war she had fought for 6 years. The way the Cobalt Chromai grew close to her. The final battle. The havoc she had wrought against her own people, all at the behest of her Uncle. The curse laid upon her by the Rosate Chromai. The escape attempt by the Violet and Cobalt Chromas. And finally, the death of Jainera Vale, the Crimson Chromai.

The air around the circle of Jedi felt heavy.

“She’s very strong,” Depa Billaba breathed.

Plo Koon nodded in agreement. “And very powerful.”

“That’s what worries me,” Mace Windu frowned.

“A risk, she may be,” Yaddle hummed. “Keep her close, we should.”

“What troubles you, Master Gallia?” Mace Windu asked.

Adi Gallia looked conflicted. “She is just a child. We are not even aware of the full extent of her power.”

Yoda rose from his chair, moving to look out of the window. “Place the child in the AgriCorps, we must. Keep our eyes on her, we will.”