#i hope he finds love and safety and comfort and success | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penvisions · 8 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 5}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The Mandalorian shows the considerate side of himself as he seeks shelter and a place to hide in wake of breaking the Code. You're internally battling with the implications of the kind behavior aimed at you, knowing it's all temporary until your return to a life of extreme captivity.

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, light gore, canon typical gore, canon typical violence, pining, casual intimacy, the sight of din djarin's bare skin, descriptions of longing, ptsd, trauma, sa trauma, mental olympics, fighting, canon typical fighting, language

A/N: don't we all love soft! din djarin? because i sure as hell do. there are snippets of him in this chapter as things get a little more complicated between these two pining loons. SOFT DIN is here and i am thriving. i hope y'all enjoy this one, i certainly had fun writing it c: but HOLY CRAP, this chapter got away from me in the best possible way and two scenes i hadn't planned for are now some of my top five favorites i've written

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The Mandalorian just crouched there on the durasteel floor of the cockpit. Holding his hands down over the bacta patch that had quickly discolored with blood from your wounds the second it touched your soft body. There was blood stained into the skin of your stomach and ribs, some of it having trailed down to stain the waist of the pants he had allotted you. There was blood stained around your lips, trailing down your chin and had pooled in the crevices of your collarbone. It was smeared around your hands from when you had begun to cough it up down in the hold space. Prints of your hands were all over his armor, his newly minted armor, and his helmet. From desperately reaching out to him and pleading with him. He could see some of it thick and stuck to the visor he was peering at you through, you had begged for him to get to safety.

You had gone into the city to find his clan and to call on them for help on his behalf. You had been intuitive enough to know that the planet held something of importance to him and you sought it out instead of finding a way to flee. You had begged him to save himself and in turn the Child. You had done everything in your power to help ensure that he was successful with his rescue.

You had gotten hurt as a result of your efforts.

And that didn’t sit well with the Mandalorian.

The realization was heavy in his chest, as he stayed motionless on the floor beside you. Despite him taking you captive and intending to return you to your mother as the job instructed, you helped to secure his wellbeing twice now.

With a sigh that seemed to come from the deepest depths of his chest, he leaned over and carefully curled his arms around your limp form. He lifted the weight of you completely and tried not to jostle your body too much as he made his way down into the hold. There was no thought process behind placing you atop the excuse for a bed he had in the small quarters he retired to when given the chance.

He made to lay you down in a comfortable position and brought a threadbare blanket to drape over you.

Pausing for a second, contemplating something in the quiet of the traveling ship. The blood on his clothes would seep into the fabric around you. The Mandalorian brought a hand up to the side of his helmet and activated the heat sensor vision, so as to not witness anything as he removed the stained and saturated clothing from you and replaced it with a fresh pair of pants and shirt. You looked small in his bigger clothing, but he didn’t attempt to replace the belt you had been using to hold the waistband of the pants up. Once you were changed, he took a newer and cleaner cloth and wiped the blood from around your face and neck.

The faint movement of your chest rising and falling with your shallow breaths grounding him, he stood there for a time he couldn’t measure before he snapped out of it.

Only then did he place the blanket over you and leave you to rest.

The marketplace was busy, it crowded, and it was making the Mandalorian think of the two resting people he had waiting back on the Crest for his return. You were still unconscious and the Child had been put down for a nap, still tired from the whole ordeal since the compound. Since the pod had been dismantled and ruined back on Nevarro, he placed the Child in his sleeping quarters alongside you but when unhappy noises had been made. He allowed for you to both share the bed, enough space for you both to not feel crowded. The small child hadn’t liked that, the bed too open and exposed for him to get comfortable, the Mandalorian contemplated.

The Mandalorian had taken a few moments to dig up an old cape, one that didn’t have too much damage done to it, and made a small hammock in the space above the bed. The happy babbling from the Child had caused something to stir in his chest, something akin to pride at having made something that caused those small sounds. He’d rather be aboard his quiet ship than out here in the hectic atmosphere gathering supplies. The sun was hiding behind dark clouds, signaling that rain was due soon.

He found more broth packs, easy to carry and only took water to be a meal. At least, a meal for you and something he could take on longer hunts. He also got some fresh fruit, with the thought that it would be a good snack for the Kid. Along with some kebab sticks with various meats roasted and spiked on them. He folded everything carefully in his satchel, the fabric of it weighed down and tugged lightly on his pauldron as he walked along the market streets. His visor swept over the stalls further down, searching for something. One last thing…

You roused slowly, body aching in a way you were both familiar with and had come to know meant a harsh encounter with a guard or a particularly hard chase following a violent encounter. It was dark, there was no light in whatever room you lay in and that sent alarms to ring in your mind, darkness meant anything could be waiting around you, waiting for you beyond it. That worried you, sent all of your instincts into a frantic buzz that began to drown out the pain you felt simmering just beneath your skin.

There were faint footsteps you could hear somewhere close, the sound of faint breathing above you.

The clothing you were in was loose, you were glad you were clothed after whatever had happened to you had concluded but they were foreign to you. Large, baggy, men’s clothing. The waistband of the pants twisted as you shifted a bit atop the bed you realized you were on. There was the sound of water boiling in a kettle and you were worried it would soon find contact with your skin should whoever was holding you became angered or annoyed with you. The only saving grace was that you weren’t cuffed or chained to anything, something that was a foreign feeling after it had been the reality for so long.

You moved to sit up and pain flared hot and bright in your middle. You let out a stuttered, surprised shout at the sudden hit to your nerves. Your hands came to curl around your middle, carefully to try and abate the pain. Through the fabric of your borrowed shirt, you could feel bandages. That was….odd. No guard or captor had ever tended to injuries they were the cause of before.

Suddenly the door to wherever you were being held opened and it allowed for a peel of artificial light to blind you.

You blinked furiously, eyes not able to discern anything in the sudden brightness. You didn’t say anything as the silhouette of a broad, large man in armor appeared in the narrow doorway. You ducked your head down and froze with your hands holding your middle, legs splayed out atop the mattress in front of you.

You couldn’t help but cower as they approached. That gave them pause.

“You’re on my ship.”

You didn’t look up at the figure as they spoke, or when they moved about the small space of the room to press a few buttons along the wall and soft lights above the bed sprung to life. Arms curled tighter around yourself and you hunched over your knees, having curled your legs up under yourself to take up as little space as possible. Tremors settled over you, your skin feeling very flushed and overheated all of a sudden despite the goosebumps that were almost hurting as they pebbled up. You bowed your head in silence, not speaking.

“Do…you not remember?”

You shook your head fervently, worried about upsetting the man as his armor glinted out of the corner of your eye. It was silver and shiny….and faintly familiar.

“You were injured, Greef Karga had a modified blaster gun that contained metal bullets.” The man inside the armor stood at the foot of the mattress pad you were on. “Landed a hit that did a lot of damage. Broke a few ribs and landed close to your lungs.”

Flashes of bright blaster fire and steam were a mental barrage that had you gasping and leaning your forehead down to rest atop the blanket that had fallen from your form at your fidgeting. Everything that had happened since leaving the compound as a captive to the Mandalorian flooded back to you in a wave of memories and harsh feelings of realizing how injured you were. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with a burn, your ribcage aching in protest at the action. You bowed your head once again, though in pain not in submittance.

“I apologize, jatne vod. My injury must have put you behind on traveling, I-I-I’ll pay for everything you used from your medical supplies, for fuel, anything wasted on me.”

A boom of thunder had the ship rumbling, and you jumped in response to it. The sound too similar to the explosions and storming of your old temple. Triggering. A second, nearly immediate boom of thunder had your entire form shaking and you brought your hands up to cover your head in an attempt to drown out the sound. There was a scuffling sound and all of a sudden, the Child was pressed up into you. He was burying his face in the fabric of your shirt, his small hands clenching it like a lifeline.

The heavy pattering of rain started to ping off of the metal of the ship.

The Mandalorian would be lying if he said the sight didn’t soften his heart, just a smidge. He didn’t hesitate, but he did consider the move of sitting on the edge of the small bed before he did. There was a loud crackling sound as the lightning brightening the sky as if it were a sunny day landed a hit on something and your body jerked in reaction to it. The tiny claws clinging to you tore through the baggy shirt you were donning, and you let out a stuttered gasp as pain flared harshly.

The Child was suddenly being pulled from you and you heard the clatter of his nails along the cuirass of the man’s chest. There was the sound of leather ripping as another clap of thunder sounded overhead, the ship rattling in its wake.

“I ap-apol-apologize, jat-jatne vod.” You felt a warm tingle in the back of your throat and a rush of dizziness overtook you. Your head swayed with the effect of it despite your best efforts to keep it steady and the lights of the space glowed brightly in a flare against your sensitive eyes. Then a trickle of blood came out of your nose, warm on your upper lip where it collected. You went to brush it away, but something moved to do so before you could.

A bare hand was suddenly in front of your face, a washcloth held in its grip. Your head shot up at the sight of the tan skin, veins and strong muscles in a shocking display. The back of his knuckles brushed your cheek as he brought the damp washcloth underneath your nose to wipe away the thick blood that had dripped down to your upper lip. You clenched your eyes shut, suddenly worried about the meaning of such a thing. Of the exposure of his skin, visible in the light of his personal space.

“It’s okay, I’m allowing you to see.”

Words seemed to no longer exist, they were fleeting in your mind but none were solid. None of them left your lips, unable to speak. Wind whistled outside of the ship, but you were deaf to it in the wake of your heart thundering in your ears. Your mind was frozen and so was your body. Even though his reaction to your earlier offer to trade for items when first coming aboard the ship, you couldn’t help but feel like he was about to strike up one in the wake of exposing a part of himself to you, no matter how innocent. It would make sense after all, you were in his personal quarters, you were in his bed, he had tended to your injuries with time and energy that he could’ve otherwise utilized in his attempt to flee.

He must’ve sensed the direction of your thoughts, his hand stilled as he finished wiping the blood from your skin.

“I will not put a hand on you beyond tending to your injuries. You don’t want me to, and I won’t breach that. This is the Way.”

You couldn’t help the minute tilt of your head that allowed the back of his hand to brush your cheek again. You flicked your eyes up at the black of the visor in front of you. His hand was warm on your sensitive skin, and it helped to settle the chill that had settled over you from what you were sure was a fever. The visor tilted down at the split second of contact, though no words sounded from the modulator, not even a breath. When you lifted your eyes up again, you let them linger a little longer, your lips pressed together and a drop of blood he hadn’t gotten was a metallic surprise.

The pressure built up in the air from the storm seemed to occupy the room, as if it had snuck aboard the ship and was surrounding you both in the confines of the small space.

The washcloth thumped quietly to the bed and his thumb came up to gently brush against your lips.

You felt a rush of heat on your face, goosebumps sprouting on your skin at the feeling of his skin on yours. His thumb rested fully on your bottom lip, as if he was unable to pull his hand away, as if he didn’t want to. The pad of it was soft, and you wondered how soft the rest of his skin was underneath the armor if this was just his hand. The thought of loss washed over you as you thought of him taking his hand back, of taking the softness resting against your lips away. Of the glove he normally wore being put back over and hiding his skin away from you. It was foreign and you felt the burn of shame for thinking such a thing. You turned your head away as you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath that stung in your lungs, the movement causing the back of his hand to caress your cheek.

After a beat, he proceeded to place the Child atop the bed beside him, his other gloved hand on a small back to reassure him that it was all okay. Thankfully the thunder had subsided for the moment, the quell of the storm temporarily abating. You went to reach for the small figure, but that same still naked hand extended toward you again with a fresh bacta patch and a tube of some type of cream.

“It’s a topical medicine that was recommended when I asked after your type of injuries.”

“Th- thank you, jatne vod.” You spoke to the cluttered wall of the quarters, eyes taking in the things the Mandalorian deemed important enough to keep close at all times. Keeping them off of the bare hand still exposed to you, you had already been greedy with your thoughts, there was no need to stare. Despite how much you wanted to, despite how much you wanted the feeling of that hand back on your skin. Shameful, pitiful, you realized. This man was your captor, he had all the power and you felt the pull of distaste bubble up in your throat. You would never know freedom again, would never have the choice of someone’s touch. It was a bitter realization in the wake of being faced with the urge for a gentle touch after catching a glimpse of it for the first time in your life.

“The ship can’t fly in such weather, we will remain here until the storm passes.”

With that, he stood from the bed and scooped the Child up. The armored man held the small form close to his chest with a strong arm, the hand that had been touching you was hanging at his side with a ripped glove in its grip. A compartment was opened on the wall close to the door and a new shirt, one not ripped as yours was now, was placed alongside the medical supplies. His steps were quiet as he left the small space. The door was left open behind him marginally, allowing for you to take a moment to yourself should you need to.

You gathered up the items he had placed in front of you and gingerly moved to get up off the bed. It took a few moments for you to get your bearings, your entire middle from the front to the back sore. The large bacta patch already covering your injury was large, spanning the entire left side of your ribcage. It had a stain that meant it was time to be changed, the corners of lit curling and lifting up from your skin as the adhesive began to lose its potency.

When you stepped out of the personal quarters, you were faced with the scene of the Mandalorian seated at the makeshift table with an array of food items scattered about it. He was handing small bites of the various things to the Child. Seeing what was being greedily shoved into the small mouth, what was inspected, and what was spit out in dislike. You watched for a moment, holding a hand to your left side as you slowly moved over to the remaining seat, as the Child was safely nestled atop the table.

There was a small pile of clothing atop the table once again, soft looking fabric that was black and glinted with a hint of some type of metal adornment. You wondered about it as you sat.

“He doesn’t seem to like the fruit,” You stifled a small laugh at the grimace adorning the small face, the sounds of distaste too cute as he babbled away. Your hand hovered over a cannister of green cubes, some type of melon you assumed. It looked so fresh and your mouth watered, you had always loved fruit of any kind. The fresh, bright flavors one of the small pleasures you awarded yourself in your life when you had the opportunity to. “May I?”

At the nod of the helmet, you carefully picked up a piece and popped it in your mouth. The tart, tangy flavor of it was refreshing on your tongue and you quickly grabbed another without asking in a bold move. Beside it was a cannister of small purple berries that looked similar to the blackberries you would harvest back on your home planet, though the taste of them was sweeter. The berries were slightly fuzzy, and when bitten into the flesh was almost translucent. You cradled a few in your hand as you took in the way the Mandalorian carefully removed bits of cooked meat from a kebab and handed them to the Kid.

Errant thunder rumbled overhead as you enjoyed a few bites, though nothing as striking or loud as those first few booms. Seems the storm had been passing over, traveling further into the planet to pelt down in some other parts of the atmosphere.

“Those clothes there are for you. They should fit you better than mine.”

“Oh! You didn’t have to do that, jatne vod.” You dropped the piece of sliced apple you had been about to take from a cannister. It was covered in a slightly spiced syrup that smelled delicious. You licked the stickiness from your fingertips and moved your hands to rest in your lap.

“I had credits in my…other pants. They are yours, jatne vod.”

There was only a nod from the helmet as you moved to stand, taking the clothing in your arms.

“May I use the fresher?” You bowed slightly as you addressed him, habits seemingly unable to abate in the wake of your partial freedom. While you knew you were still his captive, the obvious glitch in the entire situation was that the Mandalorian no longer worked for the Guild. You had looked over your file while he had been rescuing the Child, to see the specifics of what your mother had ordered in her desperation to find you.

She had requested that the Mandalorian specifically be the one to receive your tracking fob, to return you to her directly on your home planet. That no one else was to know of your disappearance in such explicit detail. You were unclear on whether or not he would be completing the job now that he no longer worked for the Guild, but you were hesitant to ask. It would be a breach to…whatever civil atmosphere had settled over the ship. He had brought food back, though he ate alone to adhere to his creed. He had allowed you to pick through the various canisters gathered on the table, though you had not helped pay for the food. He had tended to your wounds, though he did not have to. He had allowed you to rest in his personal quarters, though he did not have to forgo his own comfort. He had gone into town with the intent to purchase clothing for you, though he did not have to when you had been dressed in his own already.

It was dizzying, the shift in treatment from being bound in shackles and forced through the desert to this…. nearly domestic setting. You weren’t sure how long it would last, or if he was already traveling toward your home planet. It was mid rim, so it would take quite a long journey and you weren’t sure how long you had been unconscious for. You were afraid to ask questions, afraid to find out the answers.

Afraid to break the fragile ground you now walked on.

At the nod to your simple question, you picked up the bundle of clothing atop the table and made your way to the refresher.

You disrobed slowly, taking a mental tally of all the aches and pains that wracked your body. It was hard to take a full breath, it stung the back of your throat to take a shallow one, a lingering metallic taste there. Your entire middle was bruised and off color, you discovered as you pried the old bacta patch from your skin. The discoloration and bruising hid a bit of swelling and you could tell that two of your ribs were broken, on either side of a dark cauterized blemish marred into you. It was healing though, you were positive of that. The bacta having made the closure a dark pink of a scar as opposed to a scabbed over spot. Your ribs too, would be worse off if not for the immediate tending to them.

You were grateful, despite being confused about the aid. Despite the niggling worry in the back of your mind that he would still ask for something in return.

The warm water of the shower was soothing to your anxious mind and aching body. The ship powered up and you felt the slight shift in gravity as it took to the air. You stood underneath the spray until your legs began to feel weak, which admittedly hadn’t been all that long.

Once dried off, you put your bindings and underwear back on. Reaching for the tube of medication, you inspected the label. It was a cooling type of gel that was supposed to help sooth your muscles and make it easier to breathe. When you opened the tube, the smell was a little strong but you kind of liked it. A small dallop was spread around your injury and the effect was immediate. It was slightly cooling in a flaring heat type of way and tingly, and it certainly did help to open up your airways. You took a test breath in and smiled as it didn’t pull on your insides as much as it had done just moments ago.

The clothing that the Mandalorian had gotten you was…something that made your heart titter as you unfolded a beautiful cloak. It was hooded and made of a lightweight, black gauzy material that would protect you from the elements but wouldn’t weigh you down. It had a clasp around the parts that come to rest over your chest, it was a lightweight metal. The clasps were small, detailed flowers and a dainty but sturdy chain with a handful of links. The quality of it was amazing and you ran your hands over the fabric in a slight daze. It was a beautiful piece of clothing and something you were sure was more expensive than anything you had ever worn in your entire life.

Underneath it had been a small pile of nondescript black clothing. A tank top, a regular shirt, a pair of trousers that were more your size and length. There was also a pair of fingerless, leather gloves that came up to cover your wrists completely to about mid forearm. It was…too much. Panic flared in your chest, and it hurt to breath for another reason altogether. No one had ever shown you this level of…consideration. Instincts telling you that something was going to be required in exchange, despite the very opposite being voiced by the Mandalorian himself.

You brought a hand up to thumb at your lower lip, recalling the way his own had felt against it and you felt your face heat up at the memory.

Opting to change back into the larger, borrowed clothing, you exited the refresher with your newly gifted clothes folded neatly in your hands.

When you came out back into the hold space, there was a cup of broth waiting for you on the crate-table, small wisps of steam rising from it. You looked at it, getting lost in watching the steam reach out into the air until it vanished. You turned toward the ladder that led up to the cockpit and was startled to see the figure of the Mandalorian standing at the base of it. He was watching you and it made your heart jump in your chest, the thought of him waiting for you setting off your instincts to run despite not being physically able to.

You felt your knees bend slightly, as if gearing up to run and you felt foolish as you consciously realized you were aboard a ship traveling through space. There was nowhere to run.

“I’m going to keep an eye on the course, you can return to the bed with the Child. He’s in the hammock above it.” With that, he turned and climbed the ladder. His own cloak swayed as he disappeared from view without so much as a sound.

You moved to sit at the table, taking up the broth in a hand while you reached for your bag stored underneath it. You carefully put the clothing inside and the sound of clinking metal caught your attention. You dug around in it as you brought it to rest in your lap. The bag of credits you had swiped from that unsuspecting person back on Nevarro surprised you. You had thought the Mandalorian had just taken them from you when he had tended to your injuries. You set it atop the table beside the canisters clustered in the middle and sipped from the mug in your hand.

With the combination of the warm broth in your belly, the clean bandages over your injuries, and the topical cream that still smelled faintly of mint that was allowing for you to take easier breaths, you found yourself slipping into an easy slumber settled into the Mandalorian’s bed.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, though it felt like a significant amount of time had passed. The medicine and the full stomach allowing you to fall into much needed healing slumber. The door to the quarters was open and you sat up and gazed out into the semi-darkness of the rest of the ship. Footsteps approached the door through the space.

“We’re going to drop out of hyperspace soon.” The Mandalorian’s voice was quiet, as if he didn’t want to disturb you should your mind be in more in the state of sleep than awake. You hummed as you felt yourself wake up a little more, the shifting of your legs underneath the blankets twinging from laying for so long. “Planet will be in view.”

You just hummed again in confirmation as you began to sit up, head lolling with the lack of energy you had in your recovering state. Your arms were shaky where you held yourself up on them to try and gain some bearings. You felt worn leather cuff a shoulder and encircle an arm to help you sit up completely, warmth seeping into your skin through it. He didn’t say anything as you slowly moved your legs to dangle over the edge of the cot, watching for any signs of pain or discomfort. He waited outside of the small quarters as you dressed. You opted for the cargo style pants, the tank top, gloves, and the beautiful cloak. You also took a moment to pull the hair that normally framed your face back with two small clips from your bag, leaving the rest of it to cascade down your back but away from your face to allow you to have full range of vision.

The Mandalorian took in your change of appearance before he held a light hand to one of your arms and your lower back as you ascended to the cockpit.

Once seated, he took up his spot in the pilot’s seat, the Child resting in his lap and looking over the controls and out the panels of glass. The small being seemed to have a fascination with the streaking lights of travel. You smiled to yourself as you watched the two be causally intimate with each other in only the way a guardian and their charge could be.

The ethereal, glowing lights of hyperspace disappeared, and the expanse of the glass paneling was encompassed by green.

The planet the Mandalorian was guiding the ship towards was covered in various shades of green. There were spots of bright cerulean that dotted the planet, but it was mostly the calming and comforting color of green, of trees. You audibly gasped, the feeling of warmth blossoming in your chest at the sight. You weren’t aware of shakily getting up from your seat or setting down the small pouch of soft dried fruit you had been trying to munch on or crossing the distance to stand beside the pilot chair and lean toward the view atop the controls.

“Jatne vod…”

You turned to look at him, a grateful smile lighting up your tired features.

The Mandalorian would be lying if he said the sight hadn’t made his heart kick into a faster rhythm in his ribcage.

“Now listen. I’m gonna go out there and I’m gonna look around.”

The Mandalorian instructed once he had securely landed the ship in a clearing far from what little collections of people that had been seen as you flew through the clear sky. He gently collected the Child and set him in the seat that had just been occupied. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“Now, don’t touch anything.” He spoke sternly to the small being, though not unkindly. He turned to you, where you had gone back into the seat off to the left of his own. His voice was normal when he addressed you, no stern undertones, no warnings. “I’ll find us some lodging and then I’ll come back for you both.”

He turned back around and took on that stern tone once again.

“You stay right here. Don’t move.” The finger aimed at him was a laughable display, but you refrained from indulging, not wanting to offend the armored man who was trying to set the rules out for the little one. The small grunt of acknowledgement seemed to be all he was waiting for. “Great.”

He turned away and helped you to get down back into the hold with hovering hands. You sensed the Child following suit but didn’t say anything, rather enjoying the clear defiance of the instructions the man had just set in place from the small being. He could get away with it, whereas if you disobeyed… there was no telling what the outcome would be at this point. As the door and ramp got situated you watched as the Mandalorian waited for it to completely lock into place atop the dirt of the planet, the Child’s small form standing beside him as if that was where he belonged.

At the quiet cooing sounding from him, the Mandalorian heaved a deep sigh and turned back to where you had begun to retrieve your bag.

“Oh, what the hell? Come on, both of you.”

The three of you took off into the dense collection of trees, the forest swallowing your forms as you walked away from the ship. You took as deep a breath as you could without irritating your lungs, not wanting to pull or strain them in the wake of making some healing progress. The air was fresh and crisp, the all-encompassing scent of pine and cedarwood making you feel at ease. You placed a hand out to brush the leaves hanging low beside the small path and felt the coolness of them along your exposed fingertips.

You were silent as you followed behind the armored man a few paces with the Kid beside you. You kept glancing down at him, to make sure he was walking okay and not tripping over anything too big for him to step over. His head was swiveling around as he took in the sights and sounds of the forest. He seemed to like it as much as you did. You wondered what his natural environment was, what it looked like, what type of planet he and his kind originally hailed from. You had been too preoccupied with training and memorizing everything you could get your hands on to read as a youngling at the Temple to ask the only other individual like this that you had known. Your heart panged with old feelings as you recalled those lost in the chaos of that time of your life.

Beside you, the Kid cooed rather loudly and stopped along the small path through the trees. His focus was on something in the brush, his head tilted to the side a little in the cutest way imaginable. The head of a lothcat popped up and he startled, falling back on his little rump. You stifled a quiet laugh as he huffed and collected himself enough to reach a hand out to it. The fluffy creature leaned forward and sniffed at his little hand, eyes trained on his own. The creature seemed to approve of him and nudged its head against the hand in front of it with a loud chitter.

You leaned down beside his small form to reach out a hand to the creature as well. It brushed its soft fur against your hand and a loud purr filled the space between the trees. It spooked when the Mandalorian took his steps back up and a small twig snapped. It took off down the path and away with a swift trot.

The town was small, more a small collection of businesses and then personal homes that surrounded a tavern. The buildings were comprised of thick wicker bases, wood paneling atop that to create the dome like structures. It was slightly crowded, as it was midday and time for lunch. The tavern tables nearly filled as the smell of delicious foods cooking wafted through the air. You were on high alert as you realized people were watching your trio, both of you following the Mandalorian’s sure steps.

A lothcat was settled at someone’s feet but it was more orange than white compared to the one you had just encountered in the forest. The Child didn’t see the difference and he approached the creature, only to get hissed at, a snarl sounding low in its throat. The Child yelped and you quickly scooped him up into your arms. You kept your eyes low and your head slightly ducked as you took in the rest of the scene of the bustling tavern as the Mandalorian scouted out a table. Once an unoccupied one came into view, he reached out and took the Child from you and placed him in one of the chairs around the table. He waited until you were seated as well, before he took one of his own.

“Welcome, travelers.” An older woman with short hair approached your trio as she cleaned her hands off on a rag. “Can I interest you in anything?”

“Bone broth for the little one.”

“Oh, well, you’re in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there’s plenty.” She spoke with her hands, as she glanced around the table before speaking again. Her eyes landed on you and you tried not to appear too outwardly uneasy at the direct attention for fear of drawing more. “Can I interest you in one as well? Or you, sweet little thing, look like you could use some food.”

You shook your head as you folded your hands in your lap and aimed your eyes down at the table.

“Just the one.”

“Very well.” You felt her gaze move from you and you let out the breath you had been holding. Direct attention was always difficult for you, reading everything and the Maker into it no matter what.

You focused your attention on reaching out with the Force to get a sense of the town, of the people here, the environment. Aware of the Mandalorian speaking further with the kind lady, but not distinguishing anything specific. There were no disturbances in the Force, though there was the prickling feeling of eyes trained on you specifically. You vaguely noticed that the armored man was standing and walking away from the table in swift motions, as you tried to get a deeper read on the people surrounding you. It was a little overwhelming, being in the midst of so much going on after being held captive at the compound for so long.

The noises and hum of chatter were loud in your ears, causing a slight ache to settle as the lower base of your head that had nothing to do with your injuries. Your whole body was tense, though you were sure it was hidden in the way you held yourself, composed. To anyone watching, it would just look like a guardian and her charge enjoying a nice meal. But you were as tense as could be, wound tighter than a coil. Your body protested it, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming fear of being out in the open like this. You were injured, not at full strength and had the Kid to worry about now too. The both of you would be targets for the rest of your lives, it didn’t matter if you were back to full strength and capabilities. And that terrified you.

You snapped back to full focus, letting go of the mental tether you had reached out to connect with the Force as the Child moved to take the bowl set down in front of him and dismount his own seat. You followed him as he seemed so sure of his steps out of the open bay of the tavern’s entrance and out into the small village.

As you rounded a turn around a building, the Child stopped and took a big sip from his bowl of broth, taking in the sight of the Mandalorian sprawled on his back. The helmet was tilted back as he trained the aim of a blaster on one of the people who had been tracking your movements through the tavern. It was a rather broad and muscled woman with short black hair that fell into her face in a way that made you want to brush it aside, she was adorned in travel wear, metal plates of armor over her shoulders and forearms. She was laying on her stomach along the ground, facing the upside down Mandalorian with her own blaster trained on him. They were both panting, the effects of their scuffle obvious.

They both turned in unison to take in the sight of the Child standing calmly in front of you, sipping away as his food as if this was a normal occurrence. You just bowed your head in greeting, despite only having been away from the man for a few moments. The Mandalorian spoke, breaking the tension in the air.

“You want some soup?”

“Saw most of my action mopping up after Endor. Mostly ex-Imperial warlords.” The quartet of your group was back at the original table the Mandalorian had found. A cup of broth in front of everyone who didn’t don a helmet. You had pulled out a handful of credits from your pocket to cover the new round, not wanting to be rude. The visor of the Mandalorian was trained on you through the entire exchange and the kind woman from before thanked you and offered to fill your flagon with fresh water. You shook your head in a silent denial, wary of anything you didn’t see the source of. The only reason you ate the soup was because the Mandalorian deemed it safe enough for the Child, so it should be safe enough for you as well, by default.

“They wanted it fast and quiet. They’d send us in on the drop ships. No support, just us. Then when the Imps were gone, the politics started.” You wanted to nod along in agreement but held the action. You were worried about drawing anymore attention than was already aimed at the table.

“We were peacekeepers, protecting delegates, suppressing riots. Not what I signed up for.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“Let’s just call it an early retirement.” She took a sip from her bowl as a way to lull the conversation down. It was obvious she had fled, had possibly participated in or allowed the occurrence of a riot herself.

“Look, I knew you were Guild. I figured you had a fob on me. That’s why I came at you so hard.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

“You look like you’ve been through it, you alright over there? You’ve been awfully quiet, barely touched your broth and you look like you need it most out of all of us.” She turned her attention to you. The table dynamics had you settled between her and the Child, she was on your right while your back was to the internal wall of the tavern. You ducked your head at the direct questions, eyes darting over to the helmet of the Mandalorian that was facing you as well.

“Vaabir not ganar baatir par ni, cyar'ika.”

Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.

You couldn’t help the term of endearment from falling from your lips despite not even looking directly at her, eyes trained on the far wall past her. The woman was everything you once were, and it was softening your heart just the smallest bit, while simultaneously steeling it. But not enough to carry on a conversation, let alone one in Basic that could be understood by anyone or anything listening in. If she once dealt with Imperials, you didn’t need her to get to know anything about you. She would most likely know of your wanted posters from long ago, whispers of the search for you that may or may not have faded with the death of the emperor and his guard. You didn’t want her to make the connection, any connection regarding who or what you were.

“Gar liser jorhaa'ir, meh gar copad at.”

You can speak, if you want to.

The Mandalorian took your use of his native language as a signal that you were uncomfortable, looking to connect with him in a way that didn’t allow anyone else to be privy. For that you were grateful, you…weren’t the biggest people person as a child and you certainly weren’t now. Isolation making you prefer to be alone or talk very little when faced with interaction.

“Nayc, jatne vod.” You shook you head, hoping he would drop the conversation and go back to talking with the woman. The sooner they finished, the sooner you could get away from the village.

“Well, this had been a real treat,” The woman, Cara her name was, moved to get up from her seat. She brought the bowl up to hold it in front of her middle, as if she was using it as a shield for either physical purposes or to hold her anxiety at bay. “But unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on. And I was here first.”

She took the last sip from it before setting it down atop the table and walking off.

“Well, looks like this planet’s taken.” He looked down at the Child in front of his own bowl before he rested the length of his right arm on the table and gazed around the tavern one more time. Keeping tabs even after the scuffle, on alert for another in case it arose.

It was dusk by the time you returned to the ship. You had offered to put something together for a meal, while the Mandalorian checked over everything on the ship. He only nodded, in agreement of the meal or in an acknowledgement of you being able to do so. Either way, you busied yourself in the small makeshift kitchen space of the hold.

You set a bowl of rice and leftover kebabs down beside the Mandalorian after making sure the Child was tucked into bed. It was late and his eyes had begun to droop as soon as he had been fed. The armored man was busy tinkering away with something along the side of the Crest, he had two containers of tools beside him and you set the bowl atop one as you watched him work for a moment.

“Jatne vod, may I go and sit in the trees.” The sound of the wrench he was using stopped, the grating metal and metal ceasing as he turned his helmet to observe you. There was a bowl of food in your hand as well, a utensil placed carefully in it as you stood beside his little workstation set up. The sky was dark, but the lantern that he had atop the tools and the light from his helmet allowed him to see how tired you looked. You were holding a lantern of your own, though he recognized it as one he kept stored on the ship. “I won’t go far or out of sight, I promise.”

“You don’t have to ask me to do things.”

“Of course I do, I’m in your charge.” Your appetite was waning in light of the conversation, the sinking feeling in your stomach filling you up. “Until the job is done, you are my captor, I…shouldn’t even be asking to do things…it’s an…unusual dynamic.”

“The clothes and tending to your issues were necessary for your comfort and survival, those were unusual?”

“Jatne vod….it’s as if…n-nevermind… I’ll go back inside, I’m sorry for bothering you.” Tears were welling up despite your best efforts to stave them off. The words you had been about to speak would spark a conversation you weren’t sure you were ready to face. The reality of your situation was plain, you were the Mandalorian’s quarry, no matter how he acted towards you. The tears were of anger and annoyance at yourself for beginning to feel otherwise. The facts were the facts. You turned on your heel and quickly made your way around the ship and toward the ramp.

A hand gripping around your bicep stopped you and your cloak swished with the sudden stop. You turned to face the shadowed visor of the Mandalorian. It was moving closer and closer toward you until you felt the cool metal above the visor rest against your forehead for a few seconds. Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact, the metal allowing your face to cool down from getting so worked up so quickly just now. When he pulled back, he aimed the visor at your eye level, though you had yet to open yours back up.

“Though that is the case….I want you to be… comfortable.” His voice was quiet through the modulator. A careful tone you hadn’t heard from him as of yet. It was…smooth and soft just like his skin had been against yours earlier that day. You wanted more of it, more of this, more of that, more of him. And that was wrong.

Feelings of delusion overwhelmed you as you read too much into the man showing you a bit of kindness, nothing really, in wake of living your life alone and then taken prisoner for so long. That’s all it was, it was all in your head and your heart was running with any thread it could to make this something that it wasn’t. He was capable of softness, as shown by his regret at turning in the Child. But you wouldn’t be so lucky, only catching glimpses of it for the remainder of your time with him.

“As long as it doesn’t affect me or the Kid in a negative way, you can do pretty much whatever you want.”

You nodded as you kept your eyes shut, not willing to open them and come face to face with the helmet leaning down to gaze at you. This….casual touching wasn’t helping to get your mind on track. You stepped back, away from him and you felt his hand release you. Your skin burned where his touch had been and you tired to shake the feeling away. You took as deep a breath as you could muster, not wanting to irritate your ribs, and exhaled slowly. You didn’t say anything as you walked over to the edge of the clearing facing the ramp and settled with your back to a tree and began to eat.

You ignored the lingering stare of the Mandalorian until he turned back to finish his maintenance.

“Excuse me.” A pair of figures approached from the darkness of the surrounding forest. Their voices were light and innocent as they did so, speaking with respect. “Excuse me, sir.”

“There something I can help you with?” You weren’t surprised in the slightest when the Mandalorian spoke without breaking his concentration. He was elbows deep in the paneling of the ship, making sure everything was set to travel. Still leaning back onto the trunk of a tall tree, your empty bowls had already been returned to the makeshift kitchen space. The ramp to the ship was closed and you had been out here with the man for the better part of an hour. You had heard the two men approaching, their land speeder a little wide for the trail and overhung branches and overgrown brush had whispered against the siding.

“Uh, yeah. Raiders.”

“We have money.”

“So, you think I’m some kinda mercenary?” The Mandalorian walked around from where he had been securing something around the open panel below the landing leg of the ship. He was on the other side of it now, and continued to work without so much as a glance at the two figures.

“You are a Mandalorian, right?”

“Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That is Mandalorian armor, right?”

“It is.”

“See? I told him. Sir, I’ve read a lot about your people…tribe. If half of what I read is true…”

“We have money.”

“How much?”

“Everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen.”

“Krill. We’re krill farmers.”

“We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in.” The Mandalorian finally turned to face them, giving them direct attention. He took in the bag of credits held high in one of their hands and began to walk along the side of the ship away from them.

“It’s not enough.”

“Are you sure? You don’t even know what the job is.”

“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.”

“This is everything we have. We’ll give you more after the next harvest.”

The door began to hiss as it prepared to open, steam releasing as the mechanism lowered. You stood from where you had been resting close by, back against the tree and watching the stars throughout the entire interaction. The two villagers jumped at the sound, backing away as the ramp lowered. The mechanical groan of it doing so was the only sound in the clearing.

“Come on. Let’s head back.” One whispered to the other, watching as you silently approached and moved to stand behind the Mandalorian. You nodded at them in greeting, a sympathetic downturn of your lips telling them you weren’t in agreement with the denial of help. But you had no say in the matter.

“Took us the whole day to get here. Now we have to ride back with no protection, to the middle of nowhere.”

You watched as the armored man was nearly up to the top of the ramp and inside the ship when he turned to them, his cape swishing with the movement. His helmet picking up the whispered complaint from the villagers. You didn’t envy them, if one was seeking out aid, surely traveling was nerve wracking in combination of being away from a threatened home.

“Where do you live?”

“On a farm. Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.”

“In the middle of nowhere?”

They paused, unsure if they were being taken seriously now that the Mandalorian seemed to be paying attention. Unsure if they were being humored for a good laugh. Your brow furrowed as you took in the almost exasperated way they were answering questions now, you felt bad for them, truly.

“…yes.”

“You have lodging?” The Mandalorian glanced at you before focusing on the two men again.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Their tone changed to hopeful, returning to what it had been when they first approached.

“Good. Come up and help.” He turned back and entered the hold space, beginning to shift through the ship for things he would need.

All three of them worked diligently, gathering whatever things the Mandalorian pointed out to them and placing them atop the land speeder they had used to traverse through the thick forest. The Child was already nestled atop it, big eyes watching the flurry of movement. There were a few cases of things and then your bag was brought over. The medical kit that had been in his quarters. You weren’t sure what everything was, but it was obviously important and couldn’t be left on the ship. You were unsure of how long the armored man planned to stay here but….it looked like a good chunk of time if the cases were any indication. You tried not to dwell on that for too long…

“I’m gonna need one more thing. Give me those credits.”

A guiding hand was hovering close to your back as you gingerly stepped up onto the older model speeder. It was suddenly wrapping around you when your side twinged and you lost your balance mid step up, its companion coming up to rest on one of your arms to help steady you. You let out a little ‘oof’ as your weight was suddenly being supported by strong arms. Your head was turned to say something to the Mandalorian but before you could even open your mouth, you felt them tense slightly as the muscles moved to lift you completely and place you up on the speeder.

“…thank you, jatne vod.”

You wouldn’t look at him as you settled down and brought your legs up and crossed them.

“Ready for round two?”

Cara quickly holstered her gun, grabbed her pack, and situated herself across the land speeder from you.

“Hi there, cyar'ika.” She winked at you, raising two of her fingers in a mock salute once she was seated with her legs stretched out.

You felt your face warm at the term of endearment even though she didn’t know what it meant. You were sure she was only repeating it because it was what you had called her back in the tavern during the day. The land speeder began to move as the Mandalorian sat down inside as well.

“So, we’re basically running off a band of raiders for lunch money?”

“They’re quartering us in the middle of nowhere. Last I checked that’s a pretty square deal for somebody in your position.” He was leaning up against the siding of the land speeder, his legs stretched out before him. He was to your left, as if he was subconsciously shielding your injured side even under the cover of night, against anything that may dare to threaten your traveling group. The Child was seated in front of your own legs, folded up and crossed underneath you as you leaned back on a folded blanket to try and relieve some of the ache in your middle beside him. “Worse case scenario you tune up your blaster. Best case, we’re a deterrent. I can’t imagine there’s anything living in these trees that an ex-shock trooper couldn’t handle.”

The Mandalorian stretched out his arms and leaned back further to rest them atop the side of the land speeder, the move drawing your eyes to him. Something flared low in your middle and you willed it to disappear as quickly as it came. There was absolutely no reason why him getting comfortable should ping your radar like that, but you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t. It was jarring enough that your radar was even operational, at this point, if you were blatantly honest with yourself. You had long since lost the desire to feel touch and to seek out pleasure, not that you had done much anyway. The things done to you shutting it off for good long ago.

The ease and confidence of his words paired with his smooth motions bringing an arm close to you as it rested behind your shoulders had you closing your eyes in a long blink before you focused your attention on the stars shining down on you.

“And what are you able to handle?” Cara turned back to you. “I don’t see so much as a knife on you, but you’re traveling with the armored tank over here, essentially.”

“I can handle plenty.” Your voice was slightly pinched though mostly composed, not sure how to go about this type of conversation without giving away too much. But if you were about to spend an undetermined amount of time with the woman in the middle of nowhere, it would be best to tell the truth just a little bit. “But no, I don’t carry any weapons at the moment. I’m…currently in transport due to the instructions on my own fob.”

She coughed as the drink she had just taken from a flagon went down wrong. She turned wide eyes from you to the Mandalorian, seeking out answers as she tried to get her voice back.

“You’re a quarry?!”

“…yes.”

“She is.”

“Why are you trying to hide here on Sorgan if you’ve got credits to collect from turning her in?”

“I bet the Guild wouldn’t be willing to make good on this job.”

You could sense that she wanted to ask questions, to find out the details of what exactly the dynamic was and how this unusual situation came to be. But you didn’t offer her any words and neither did the Mandalorian.

The land speeder traveled on.

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @moonknight-s-cumdump @js-favnanadoongi

dividers made by the lovely @cafekitsune

99 notes · View notes

flyiingsly · 4 months

Text

Smoke Screen

Square : Fire

Pairing : Wolffe x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Hurt/confort, fire (a lot), angst, mention of burns and injuries, medical equipment, unconsciousness, mention of death, slight mention of alcool, Wolffe deserves a hug (and reader too)

Wordcount : 5,8k

Summary : Your battalion is sent as reinforcements to the 104th in anticipation of a potential separatist attack, but things turn out worse than expected, leading you to risk your own life to save your beloved Commander from a terrible fate.

A/N : My fourteenth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! I reaaally got carried away with this one, I was so hooked while writing this, it felt like I was living the whole situation for real, that was such a thrilling feeling and so much fun ! I love our favorite grumpy Commander so much, I just wanted to give him a bit of hurt/comfort, because I think that he really deserves to be protected and comforted, enjoy ❤

Fire.

Fire was the most frightening element in your opinion, the one you had always dreaded the most.

Even if it was a situation you were often facing during missions, you couldn’t help but feel that kind of crippling terror washing over your brain every time you found yourself surrounded by flames.

It only meant destruction and suffering to you, and no matter how much training and conditioning you’ve been through to control it better already, it was still here, in a little corner of your mind.

You were a jedi, you weren’t supposed to experience fear, but this one, you never thought that one day you’ll be able to fully overcome it.

But that was until you burst into that collapsing building, shielded by the force, trying to find your Commander, and hoping that he had survived the outpost’s attack.

***

It all started when you arrived with Obi-Wan and the 212th on a little Outer Rim’s planet on which you’ve never been before, to give support and reinforcement to General Plo Koon. He needed more men on his current mission, and of course, you volunteered immediately. Master Plo was a dear friend of yours, and you were worried for him and his men.

You came to know the 104th very well, either by fighting along them, but also by all the time you were spending with the clones of the 212th, for between missions, the different battalions often shared their free time together.

You, in general, had developed a very close bond with the clones, so you were immediately adopted by the 104th as well. But there’s one particular person with who you happened to came along even better.

Commander Wolffe was a bit distant at first. He seemed like he always had a hard time trusting new people by what Rex and Cody told you. But if you had the perseverance to get to know him and to pass through the rude first impression he was giving, he could become one of the most trustworthy and kind person you’ve ever known.

What a chance, you were patient, and what you didn’t know at that time was that he got an eye on you since the first time he met you.

It was right after Plo Koon’s ship was attacked by General Grievous and his Malevolence. You and Ahsoka insisted to go in search for Master Plo and what was left of his men, and despite the disapproval of Obi-Wan and Master Windu, Anakin and the two of you still decided to give it a try.

The unauthorized mission was a success, you arrived just in time to save them, and Wolffe was very moved by that first encounter. You were intriguing, you were kind and caring toward the clones like not so many other natborns were. You were gifted with healing abilities, and seeing you take care of his wounded men made him feel something he wasn’t used to truly experience. Safety.

You were in the middle of the space, somewhere none of you were supposed to be, chased by the most deadliest general of the Separatist army, his ship had been destroyed, he lost most of his men, he just nearly died and still wasn’t sure if he was going to survive that mission …. He should have felt doomed and frightened right now, but instead, he couldn’t help but feel safe with you on board, watching over him and his fellow troopers.

He stayed far from you for the next few times you two met again. He just looked at you from a distance, trying to hide his interest and fascination toward you the best he could. He knew very well he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of getting too attached to someone, especially to a jedi, for it will never be reciprocate anyway.

But one night, as you were with members of the 501st, 212th and 104th at the 79’, Rex and Cody became frustrated to see him burn to talk to you and never even try to do it. Of course you had tried to start a conversation with him a couple times already, and he always seemed to use his best energy to stay cold with you. You knew it was going to take time for him to open up to you, and so you were determined to give him as much as he’ll need.

Except that they weren’t hearing it that way.

It took Wolffe a bunch of drinks and a monstrous amount of courage, but pushed by his two brothers, he eventually gathered himself to go talk to you. It was a very funny moment, for when he came in front of you, you looked at him with a surprised look at first, before a wide smile appeared on your face, a smile that was screaming “finally”.

His heart melted, his cheeks started to blush badly and he found himself unable to say anything for a whole minute straight.

And that’s how it began between the two of you. As he was expecting it, he grew very fond of you, and you quickly became really close, never missing an occasion to spend some time together. You weren’t sharing that much missions or battlefields, for you were mostly assigned to the 212th, but you were always keeping in touch, no matter how far from each other you were sent.

But as the time passed by, something more than just friendship started to grow inside of him. It was something scary at first, because it was the very thing he was afraid of and wanted to avoid in the first place, and maybe the worse that could happen to someone in time of war.

He eventually ended up accepting it after realizing that he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. It never changed anything between you nonetheless, for he was doing his best to not let his new feelings ruin your already existent relationship, keeping it all for himself, hiding it at the bottom of his heart and promising to never tell you anything about it.

You were now way too important to him for that, and he knew that he could never handle to lose you or break that special bond. It was easier that way he thought, and the only thing that really mattered to him in the end was your safety. As long as you were safe and alive, it was enough for him.

But little did he know the he wasn’t the only one to feel the same.

***

The planet you were headed to was a highly valuable ally for the Republic, for it was hosting in its ground the biggest stock of a very rare and expensive kind of metal in the whole galaxy. That component was needed for the fabrication of a vast range of weapon’s and ship’s parts, and at the beginning of the war, its government managed to sign a contract with the Chancellor, allowing the GAR to be the one and only entity to use those resources, much to the disapproval of the separatists, of course.

In exchange, the Senate agreed to provide protection to the planet and its inhabitants against whatever would want to attack them, which was the reason why you were send here. The Senate Intelligence had reported that an attack from the separatist to steal its resources was planned a few days ahead, and that the troops already on place would never be enough to block it, so they urgently needed reinforcements.

But after a week, there was still no sign of any kind of attack. Nothing coming from the sky, no signs of spies amongst the population, not a single droid spotted anywhere. It was strange, for the source was a very trusted one and was usually always giving correct information, but both the Senate and the Order were starting to think about sending the reinforcements back to Coruscant. Maybe it really was just a false alarm after all.

Something was off about this whole situation, and you weren’t the only one thinking it. Both Master Plo and Obi-Wan were trying to convince the Senate to let your battalion stay longer, just to make sure that everything was really alright. Something felt wrong here, you could feel it, but without really explaining why, like if something was happening right under your nose, in the shadows.

One particular place on this planet was giving you a disturbing feeling : an old abandoned mine on the outskirt of the capital city. It was once one of the biggest of the area, and that was why the city had been built near. It wasn’t used anymore, because the deposit had been drained long ago, and the whole mining structures and tunnels had become unstable and dangerous, so its access was now completely forbidden.

You knew you needed to go investigate that mine, even Master Plo was starting to agree with you on that. Nobody had thought about it before because it was supposed to be abandoned, and most importantly, it wasn’t seen as a menace, since the attack was mostly awaited from the sky. So after successful negotiations with the Senate to get a couple more day on site, you and Obi-Wan decided to go visit it and see what you could find there.

And of course, your instinct was right all along.

It didn’t take you long to find some traces of recent mining activities and to bump into a bunch of mining droids busy extracting the few remaining metal from the walls of its many caves. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing at first. You had absolutely no idea how and since when the separatists have been secretly exploiting that place, and most importantly, how they managed to reach the planet without being caught. It was impressive and frightening at the same time.

You tried to get out of here without drawing attention on you, but you got noticed by a probe droid on your way out. You quickly destroyed it and decided to take a closer look at it while Obi-Wan was calling the outpost to inform them of your discovery.

Probes droids were too heavy to be transported easily, but you still wanted to analyze it to maybe get a chance to find information on its sender.

When you plugged your datapad to its system, you realized that it had already given your position away and managed to download the coordinates to where the message had been sent. But something else caught your eyes. You noticed that in addition of your position, another message had been sent by the probe before it was taken down.

When the transcription of this second message appeared on your screen, the words made your blood curdle.

“Republic found us, activate outpost bomb.”

You let out a gasp of horror, your datapad nearly falling from your hands.

“We need to go back, now !” you yelled at Obi-Wan, unplugging your datapad in a hurry.

“(y/n), what did you saw ?” he asked worriedly.

“The probe sent a message with the order to “activate the outpost bomb”, they must have known that we were going to find them someday and booby trapped the outpost in anticipation, probably to cut its communications and prevent anyone from stopping their little traffic. Our troops are in danger, we need to make them get out of the building right now !”

You started to run as fast as possible toward the entrance of the mine, closely followed by your fellow jedi who was frantically trying to call his Commander again.

“Cody, we have been fooled, the outpost is compromised, the separatists have been hiding underground all along !” Obi Wan shouted through his commlink as soon as he heard his voice pick up the call.

“What ? How ?” the clone answered in a surprised tone.

“Please, we don’t have time to explain more, tell Wolffe and Master Plo to gather all of your men, you need to evacuate the place, now, please !” You added, out of breath.

“Copy that !”

The communication cut. The only thing left to do now was to pray for them to be able to escape on time.

A couple minutes later, as you were coming closer from the building, the sound of an explosion loudly ringed out, making the ground violently shake under your feet, stopping you in your tracks and making you lose your balance, nearly falling down.

“Oh kriff, no !” you screamed, instantly understanding what had just happened.

It was too late.

A wave of panic overwhelmed your body, and you soon started to run with even more determination. You were so fast that Obi-Wan could barely keep your pace.

When you finally got the outpost at eyes sight, you immediately noticed Master Plo and Cody, gathered with men from both of their battalions, standing far enough to be safe from the ferocious and high flames that where now eating what was remaining of the structure.

The two superior floors were completely destroyed and collapsed, only the ground floor was still standing, but it was drowned under a massive amount of scrapped metal, concrete and shattered glass.

“Are you okay ?” you desperately let out at them as soon as you were close enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks to you, we could never have find out without your warning.” The commander answered.

“Did everybody escaped ? Are all of your men safe ?” you frantically asked, still in complete shock and looking around you, counting the troops before they can ever answer your question.

“Wait, someone’s missing …” you suddenly realized, “Where … Where is Wolffe ?” your voice was filled with concern, and you couldn’t even try to hide it as another wave of panic violently hit you.

“He didn’t make it …”

“Wh .. What ?” you mumbled, feeling your whole body starting to shake nervously.

“He was still inside when the explosion happened, he wanted to make sure that everyone was outside, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but … He didn’t pass the door ... Then the building collapsed and the flames were fast to spread, we couldn’t do anything ...”

As soon as you heard these words, you felt like the whole world was crumbling around you. It was like if someone has hit you right in the chest, so strongly that your heart had just stopped beating. Your head started to spin and for a moment you thought that you were about to faint. But you were perfectly motionless, eyes staring into space, completely paralyzed.

“(Y/n), are you ok ?”

Cody’s voice was like an electroshock pulling you out of your thought and back to reality. It took you a few eyes blinks to be able to see clearly again, but without a warning you started to run toward the building. Instantly understanding what you were trying to do, Obi-Wan stopped you in your tracks, using the force against you to lift you up, making your feet leave their contact with the ground.

“(Y/n), it’s too late, you can’t do anything for him now, you have to let it go !”

You were trying to resist, but he was more powerful than you. But you just couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t stay here and watch the whole edifice burn to the ground without even trying to do something to rescue him, even if it meant risking your own life in the process. He meant too much to you for you to just leave him here to die alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and concentrate, and then, gathering all of your strength, you turned back to face the jedi despite all the power unleashed against you.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I just can’t do that.”

Without a warning, you threw the most powerful force wave you had ever created in his direction, sending him flying away. You fall flat in the dirt from the released pressure but get up on your feet quickly. No one could have ever stopped you from doing it, and everyone perfectly knew that there was no point on trying, for you would not let anyone stand in your way.

When you arrived right in front of the outpost, you managed to find the former main entrance. The door was gone, and at its place was now a gaping hole. You took another deep breath, and, collecting your energy once again, you created a force shield around before entering the blazing inferno.

The heat was already hard to bear on the outside, but now that you were inside, even with your shield, it was barely tolerable. You had absolutely no visibility, for the smoke and the flames had took the whole space, making it impossible to distinguish anything ahead from a few feet away. In a desperate attempt to locate Wolffe, you yelled his name at the top of your lungs, without, obviously, getting any answer.

You tried to stay calm, thinking about what Cody just told you. He was right behind them when they escaped, so he shouldn’t be that far from the entrance. You weren’t able to see anything, so you decided to close your eyes and focus on what force signatures you could feel around you. Soon, you started to perceive a distant and faint pulse. Something was still living under this blaze, and even if it seemed weak, it was here nonetheless.

With your instinct guiding you, you started to move forward, stepping over a few massive concrete obstacles. The heat was making you sweat abundantly under your robes, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes opened.

You tried to call his name again, despite knowing that nobody was going to call back. You continued to move forward, the presence was getting nearer, but the path to reach it seemed never ending. You had only been here for a very short amount of time, but it felt like light years in these conditions.

As you made a turn to avoid a big concrete wall part that had felt through the ceiling, you let out a gasp as you saw a human looking shape laying on the floor.

“Wolffe !” you screamed, quickening your pace to reach him faster.

As you were getting closer, the shape became more and more recognizable. You were right, it was a human form, and it was armored. Despite the yellowish atmosphere and the messed up colors, you still were able to catch a glimpse of the grey of his armor paint, as well as the special 104th design he was wearing on his spaulder. It was him, there was no doubt about that.

You closed the distance separating the two of you quickly, creating yourself a way through the flames with the help of the force.

“Wolffe …” you breathed out, falling on your knees next to him when you finally reached him, a lump growing in your throat. You knew that there was no time to check on him right here and right now, the absolute priority was to extract him from that hell. He was still wearing his helmet on, and even if you were dying to remove it to see his face and check his breath, you knew you couldn’t.

Maintaining a force shield around you was exhausting, but you still managed to find enough strength to lift him from the ground in your arms, wrapping them around his legs and back. But as soon as your hands came in contact with his armor, you felt the metal’s heat burning your palms and irradiating your arms through your robe’s sleeves. You hissed in pain and clenched your jaws but didn’t let go, the adrenaline helping you ignore it.

You stood up quickly despite that he was heavier than you, just in time to dodge a chunk of concrete falling from the ceiling. You quickly locate the door from where you came in and rushed toward it, praying that your eyes hadn’t fooled you on this time. Your head started to hurt and your vision to blur, it became harder and harder to breathe, and the heat was less and less bearable. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that it felt like it was about to explode, and you knew that soon, your body will not be able to take it anymore. Fortunately, you were on the right way, getting closer and closer to the escape.

A few steps away from the exit, you heard a loud crack noise coming from above you, just after realizing that a pile a debris was now baring the path. What was left of the first floor was probably going to fall on you in the next seconds, and in a desperate move, you broke your force shield and directed all of your energy toward the entrance, blowing the obstacles toward the outside to clear the way. Right after, you were out in the fresh air without even remembering how you made it.

Your pace accelerated, and you were now running frantically toward the rest of the battalion, putting as much distance as possible between you and the collapsing building

As you were getting closer to them, you heard someone scream something to the other, and suddenly everyone turned out from what they were doing to look at you. All of yours and Master Plo’s men saw you run toward the blaze and disappeared into it, and they were all waiting for your return in concern.

When you arrived at their level and stopped, you were panting and sweating like never before, and you felt like if you were chocking. The jedi immediately came toward you, asking you if you were alright, but you barely paid attention to them, too busy worrying about the man you were carrying. The atmosphere became heavy and tensed when the Wolfpack realized that their commander was completely still and not moving at all.

“I need a medic, please, can someone help me ?” you burst as you lowered down to gently lay him on the ground, drained and barely standing on your feet anymore, your throat still hurting and your voice harsh from inhaling too much smoke.

An agitation took over the men gathered around you and some of them rushed to find a medic. An anxious silence felt on the group as you bend over Wolffe and started to cautiously remove his helmet. Nobody dared to say a world, they all seemed to hold their breath, even the jedi stayed quiet. Your heart was still beating fast, but not from your run this time. You were afraid of what you could find under that bucket, and it skipped a bit when you saw his face. He was looking just like if he was asleep, almost too peaceful despite what he had just been through.

You checked his breath and his pulse, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped you when you realized that they hadn’t stopped.

“It’s ok, he’s alive” you quietly told Master Plo, who was crouched next to you, without taking your eyes off of the clone.

“Thanks to you, he was doomed without your help, you surely were his guardian angel on that one, (Y/n), once again.”

His last words made your head raise to look at him with surprise. It was something Wolffe once told you, when you were at his bedside after Ventress ripped his eye off. He told you how lucky he was that you had found him on time before she had the chance to finish him, and that you brought him back to the base when someone else would have probably left him behind to die.

He called you his guardian angel, and those words made your heart burst. That day, you promised him that you will never abandon him no matter what could happen.

Your gazes met, and you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. That look the Kel Dor gave you was powerfully meaningful, you knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t exactly understand what. Then suddenly, you heard his voice ringing into your head, out of nowhere.

“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I think that you two will need to seriously discuss those feelings after all of this.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did a Jedi Master just suggested you to confess your feelings to someone ? A ton of things came swirling in your mind at his words. How did he knew ? Were you not hiding it well enough ? Did he felt it through the force ?

Of course, he knew, he was one of the closest person to Wolffe along with you, and even if you had been trying your best to ignore and repress your feelings, maybe just the way you cared for each other and spent so much time together was making it obvious.

You didn’t get more time to think about it, as you caught a glimpse of three medics running toward you from the corner of your eyes. You raised your head to look at them, breaking the eye contact with Plo, but his voice came to your mind once again.

“He really is attached to you, you know.”

“I know” you whispered in response, low enough so Obi-Wan, who was standing next to you, could not hear it, “I am, too …”

The medics were by your side in no time, and you moved aside to give them some space to work. Two of them checked on the commander, while the third was standing next to a stretcher he brought.

“General, are you ok ?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy from the smoke, I feel like my lungs are full of ashes … But I’ll be alright.” You absent mindlessly answered, raising a hand to your face to swept the sweat still running on your forehead.

“General, your hands, they’re burned !” he suddenly exclaimed with concern.

It was only at that moment that you realized how badly your skin had been burned and was hurting. Suddenly, you felt all the heavy weight of pressure and stress being lifted from your shoulders. A violent shiver came running through your spine despite the heat waves that were still striking at you, making you realized that you didn’t even get rid of your half consumed robes. You felt even more worn out, and all you were able to do was to stare at him with a vacant look, completely unable to react or speak anymore.

What happened next was so fast that you barely realized it, and you completely lost track of time.

Wolffe was placed on the stretcher and hooked to a respirator, for his lungs had been critically exposed to smoke. Then the medics removed his armor to examine the extent of his wounds. It was mostly burns, but fortunately not severe ones. They told you that a couple of bacta patches will be enough to treat them. You, too, were sat on a stretcher and gave a respirator, as well as a couples bacta patches for your hands and forearms.

Soon after, reinforcement ships arrived to evacuate everyone and take you far from that hell of a planet. There was no point in staying here now that the outpost as well as all of the equipment had been completely destroyed. Wolffe’s state was stabilized, but he was still unconscious when you came onboard. You stayed close to him all the way back to Coruscant, hoping for him to wake up soon.

***

It took him a couple more hours after landing on Coruscant and being transferred to the GAR med bay to emerge from his coma. You stood by his side the whole time, waiting patiently for him to regain consciousness. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep, not wanting to miss the moment when he’ll open his eyes.

When he finally did, he looked all around him in confusion, not understanding why and how he ended up here. He was still wearing a respirator, and run his hands through it, trying to figure out what was that thing attached to his face. Then he stared at his arms, to which some electrodes plugged to a monitor and some bacta patches were stuck, before painfully trying to sit up straight. When he noticed your presence, his eyes started to sparkles and his face instantly enlightened.

“(Y/n) …” he whispered with a weak voice.

“Hey …” you whispered back with a relieved smile.

“What, what happened ? Why am I here?”

“Well, you got trapped in the fire back at the outpost, when helping our troops to get out. You fell unconscious, so we had to extract you from the building … But you’re safe now, back on Coruscant. The medics said that your burns were only superficial. The patches will heal them in no time !”

“I barely remember it … I just remember the explosion, and that I gathered my men to evacuate, the fire was spreading so fast … But after that, nothing … How are the other ? Are they safe ? I did my best to lead them outside but …” he sighed, his brows furrowing and his face tensing worriedly.

“They’re fine, all of them, thanks to you. Don’t worry, you did the best thing you could have done for them. And you, how do you feel now ?”

“Strange honestly, but not so bad. I can feel the burns, it hurts, but it’s still bearable. I just feel awfully tired … And thirsty.”

“Great”, you chuckled, handing him a glass of water that was settled on his bed table, “You’ll feel better soon, you just need to rest for now.”

He took the glass and drank it in one gulp, quickly putting his oxygen mask back in place right after, as he was starting to cough and struggle to breath without it.

He was lost in thoughts, replaying his memories in his mind, when he noticed your hands and arms entirely bandaged, only leaving the tips of some of your fingers exposed.

“Wait, were you hurt ? Are you ok ? What happened ?” he let out with an expression of deep concern.

You lowered your head at his words, hesitant to tell him the truth, suddenly feeling irrationally embarrassed and self-conscious.

“(Y/n) ? Are you okay ?”

“It … It happened when I pulled you out of the building after you fell unconscious … The metal of your armor was very hot because of the fire … But that’s okay, I’m fine, its already nearly healed !” you said quietly, smiling shyly and trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You did what ?” he exclaimed with widening eyes.

“I … get back inside the building to found you when they told me that you didn’t get out on time …”

You both stayed silent for a moment, Wolffe trying to process what he had just heard.

“Why did you do that ? You could have been killed …” his voice was trembling, and you weren’t sure if he was reprimanding you or if he was just very surprised and worried.

“I know, but I wasn’t thinking about it at this moment, I was only thinking about you … I told you that I’ll always be here to watch your back, remember ? I just couldn’t leave you behind you know, I knew that you were still alive, I could feel it through the Force, I just couldn’t leave you here to die, that wasn’t even an option …”

His expression softened, you were right, you promised, and he knew that you were sincere about it, but he could never have imagined that you’ll literally jump into fire for him. He was so moved by your words that he found himself unable to refrain the words that were swirling over and over again and flashing in capital letters to his mind to escape from his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/n) …” he breathed out, his gaze lost on you.

It was your turn to stare at him with a confused expression.

“Sorry, what ?” you mumbled, not sure if you had just dreamed that or not.

“I love you, (Y/n).” he repeated, a bit louder, “I should have told you that before but … I wasn’t courageous enough to do it. But now I just need you to know, because maybe next time I will not be that lucky to have you by my side to save me, and I don’t want to die without having had the chance to tell it to you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I owe you my life … You truly are my guardian angel, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, and without detaching them from him, you moved from your chair to the edge of his bed, sitting close to him, and carefully wrapped your arms around his body, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His skin was warm as if it was still soaked with the fire’s heat. You completely melted as he snuggles against you, his own arms encircling you, and one of his hand settled on your head, softly running its fingers through your hair.

“I don’t want to think about the eventuality of losing you …”, you muttered in his ear, voice filled with emotion, “I Just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, I can’t express how important you are to me, I just know that I could never live in a world where you’re not by my side anymore … I love you too, and I just want to stay your guardian angel for as long as possible …”

You felt his embrace around you tighten a bit, and you hear him sighed in relief through his respirator.

“Thank you” he muttered back, his own eyes starting to be submerged with tears, “I’ll do my best to stay with you as long as I can then, I promise you, mesh’la, I just want to be with you.”

After a moment, you let go of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes and you felt him shivered under your lips, his cheeks turning a bright tone of red.

“I wish I could take that mask off to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might suffocate again if I try too …” he met out with disappointment.

“Don’t worry about that” you giggled, “we’ll have plenty of time to catch it up when you’ll get better.”

“I can’t wait for it”, he whispered, a fond smile instantly appearing on his face, before pulling in for another gentle and long-awaited hug.

#cfb2023 #vi writing #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #tcw wolffe x reader #the clone wars #the clone wars x reader

49 notes · View notes

cassiopeiasara · 2 years

Text

ALOTO Reflections

So I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to think of how I want to phrase my thoughts post finishing the season and I can’t promise full consistency or coherency but there’s something I want to explore and praise so much that my rambling be damned. So as my girl Issa once said, I go into every show like

Y’all I had such low expectations for Max’s storyline. I’m a fan of the original movie and I thought maybe they’d expand that minute with those black women to idk 5 in a few episodes then pat themselves on the back for a “diversity win” BUT THEY DIDN’T DO THAT!

Forewarned there will probably be spoilers ahead. Listen, I love period pieces so much and as a black woman, I’m so used to it being about nothing but our trauma as if one of the defining characteristics of Black people in the US isn’t finding joy in the most unimaginable circumstances. And beyond that, I’m used to seeing us portrayed as one dimensional as if we don’t have our own community and struggles and layers.

Instead of those maybe 5 minutes I expected, we got Max and her place in a family who experiences a wonderful amount of success and status. I fucking love that her mom Toni not only owns her own business but it’s a beauty salon. One of the epicenters of black femininity specifically. I love that this is the legacy she wants to leave for Max and the fact that it won’t work for Max. Not only is there the very obvious fact that baseball is Max’s dream but also she interacts with her gender expression (as a fucking stud be still my weak lesbian heart) in a way where being in this very specifically defined feminine space would be stifling. BUT ALSO! That salon is home. Max won’t let a stranger cut her hair, she goes to her uncle because she needs the connection that exists in her family and her community. AND THEY SHOWED US THAT!

Clance, dear Lord, my beloved Clance. They gave Max not just a funny sassy sidekick but a woman who is supportive, hilarious and a vintage blerd (black nerd for those unaware). Also we get that lovely conflict of Clance being so stressed out about her housewarming because she doesn’t have the success of the Chapmans. Her place is still being established in her community. I just don’t have the words for how fucking rare that is to see portrayed in a lot of media much less in a period piece. Also all those instances where Clance tries to hold Max back because she knows the dangers of losing your shit in front of white folks. It’s an ever present force in both of their lives and the way they remind each other and protect each other, I could just sob.

ALSO! I’m so beyond thrilled at the romances between black folks. Max’s parents are adorably and disgustingly in love and we don’t get that often enough with our legacies of families torn apart and violence (which are very real but it’s not all that exists). We also get Clance and Guy. I LOVE GUY. He’s so sweet and loves Clance so much and they are so wonderfully supportive and vulnerable with each other. AND WE GET TO SEE IT! Then Max, my wonderful wonderful Max gets to navigate two different avenues; one in which she’s a secret side piece of someone who doesn’t fully see her and one in which nestled in the safety and community built by her uncle she gets to meet a woman not in the dim shadows of a secret but in a bright light of joy where she presents in a way where she’s finally found comfort. And Bert and Gracie, my gosh Bert and Gracie, they’re like a queer version of my favorite aunt and uncle and they give Max a place and hope and they’re SO IN LOVE.

Honestly this was all beyond my wildest dreams and while I find myself grateful, I’m also in a place where I’m like it’s what we deserve. In fact we deserve whole shows like this in any period of time because we’re worthy and see what beautiful stories we can be?? Anyway, I’m going to go back to sobbing and probably rewatch this show a few more times.

#max chapman #clance morgan #a league of their own #a league of their own spoilers #aloto #aloto spoilers

484 notes · View notes

scarletttries · 1 year

Text

Kendall Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: After doing lots of writing over Christmas, and having a few weeks off in a busy January I am now back with a post for all my succession babies and theybies 🥰 So I hope you enjoy some Kendall cuteness, and consider my inbox open for alphabets and requests for Kendall and the other characters I write for! :)

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Kendall feels no reservations about showering you with affection in private, draping himself across your lap at every opportunity, singing your praises each second his lips aren't pressed against yours. It's a floodgate opening from years of hidden warmth and humanity, pouring over you in an almost overwhelming force, a test of whether or not you can handle the needs of his heart or if you'll cast him aside like all the rest - but you never would. In public his affection is mostly limited to a firm hand on your lower back as he guides you through a party, and the slight smile that creeps across his face every time you say his name, like you truly know the man behind it.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

In the world of lavish riches that Kendall's used to, beautiful people are everywhere, revered like just another display of opulence. So when he's captivated by the beauty of your mind, body and soul, you know it's anything but shallow. Your selfless spirit would be the first thing he grew to admire, then the warmth with which you treat others, desperate to place himself in the centre of its glow. Every kindness you extend would only have him falling deeper, truly convinced you are the closest thing to an angel he was ever going to meet.

When it comes to Kendall, it's his humour and joy that you find the most captivating. The way he constantly makes you laugh and smile, saying the most ridiculous thing he can think of regardless of who's around to overhear.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

Ken not only likes to cuddle, but absolutely requires it. Your touch grounds him on his worst days like nothing else ever has. Burying himself in your chest as your arms drape over him has Kendall feeling the kind of safety and comfort he didn't quite realise he'd been missing all his life until he found it with you. The only difficult part is getting him off your lap when it's time to do literally anything else, having to practically squirm out of his arms as they chase your outline and try to drag you back against his aching chest.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

When you first start dating, everything with him is a little bit of a performance. Elaborate dates planned well in advanced, exclusive access to VIP areas, the newest clubs, courtside seats to any game you want. And it's impressive and it's fun and Kendall feels like he's winning you over, like finally all his money and power are getting him something good. Until he realises that when he meets you for a last minute coffee, just sitting for 20 minutes in a crowded café, hurriedly sharing the stories of your day before you each need to head back to work, you both have just as good of a time. Because all that matters is that you're together. So he starts to take it down a notch, lots of movie nights at home, and cuddling up in quiet corners at the back of small bars, drinking cheap beer and laughing together. And he falls even more in love with you, realising that there's not a single experience that isn't special when you're by his side.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Kendall feels like losing and rejection have been important constants in his life, despite his best efforts, so when he realises another good thing he has is about to end, he would face it with a certain quiet acceptance. He feels like the kind of guy who would choose disappearing over a real goodbye, opting for the easier, cowardly way out, rather than confronting the harsh reality that sometimes things don't work out the way we want.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

After his first failed marriage it would take a lot for Ken to risk facing all that heartbreak again, but when he realises that he doesn't want to spend his life without you then he'd start to weigh up the option again, maybe begging Rava to meet him for a coffee and help him learn from his past mistakes.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kendall wants to seem like he's cool and easy-going, like if he gets knocked down he'll be able to get back up again without anyone else's help. But the closer you get, the more he lets you see the real him, and the more you start to realise just how fragile he is. And so you're gentle with him, in both your words and your actions; telling him you're proud of how he's trying his best, softly sweeping your fingers over the nape of his neck when you notice the frown lines creasing his forehead, being a source of calm reassurance in an extraordinary life. Kendall picks up on this, and responds in kind, treating you with the only delicate touch appropriate for the most precious thing in his life.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

It doesn't matter if you've been apart all day, or if you left the room for 30 seconds, Kendall would greet you with a hug either way. As he encircles your waist and clutches you tightly, it almost feels like he's trying to stop you from slipping away, disappearing from his life like all those who showed him kindness before you. His hugs are plentiful, meaningful, and to him an almost sacred act.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

Kendall's instinct when it comes to feeling almost anything, is to numb it, and that applies to pain too. You'd probably find him clutching a bottle, or something stronger, disappointed in himself and feeling he deserved whatever pain he'd ended up in. You'd have to pry his chosen vice carefully from his hand before encompassing him in your loving embrace, reminding him that he needs to let you look after him so that he can keep being there for you. That role in your life is enough to make him crack a smile, which quickly descends into vulnerable sobs as the walls come crashing down.

If you have even the slightlest injury, Kendall is frankly a bit useless. Zero first aid training, or common sense, would have him calling a private ambulance at the slightest sign of discomfort, knowing you are too important to risk anything being wrong.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

Kendall sees green more than he likes to admit, feeling like everyone in every room is just staring at you both and wondering how they can take you away from him. His fear of driving you away would be enough to stop him saying anything when an overly friendly party-goer compliments your outfit for the third time that night. You can feel the tightening grip on your waist as he laughs at your slightly flustered reaction, taking the first appropriate moment to slip away to a quiet corner, dragging Kendall behind you until you are alone enough to steal a kiss, the lingering taste on his lips a reminder that you only have eyes for each other.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

From the moment you catch him off-guard by wrapping your arms around his neck at the end of your first date, pressing your soft warm lips against his, Kendall has been chasing them every time you pull away. He's absolutely the kind to always ask for one more kiss when you need to leave, and then another one more, until he's dragging you back onto his lap and finding your tongue with his, forcing back a smile that tells you you're going to be late again.

He loves the way it feels to have you trailing kisses down his chest and neck, but if he had his way your lips would never leave his, his hands finding your cheeks, combing through your hair, anything to keep you where he craves you most.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

Kendall loves to show his affection through gifts, having resources that few else in the world could even imagine. And he's an exceptional gift giver, not just choosing something lavish and expensive, but something he knows you'll value and that'll show that he really knows and listens to your wants.

I think when it comes to receiving love, Kendall doesn't really care about receiving gifts, though he would be appreciative of anything you did get him. Tied runner-ups would be Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch, his need for affection and reassurance clear from the outset of your relationship. But the number one way he'd want you to show your love would be Quality Time - just be there for him. Let him be his most authentic and relaxed self, and stay by side, no matter what you're doing. Every hour that he passes in your company just adds to the slowly growing confidence that you really do like him for him, and that this is a life he could have with you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Kendall lives a life of late nights and difficult mornings, so it might fall to you to get the coffee going of a morning, luring him slowly out of the bed with the promise of your company in the shower if he promises not to make you late for work again (that's the only promise to you he's ever broken.)

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

It feels like when the sun goes down Kendall's day actually starts. Prepare yourself for galas and parties, clubs and galleries, a whole host of events that will dominate your calendar, but knowing how much Ken needs you by his side means you don't begrudge attending a single one. The best part is when it finally becomes a socially acceptable hour to leave, him squeezing your hand twice as a signal to yawn and start saying your goodbyes so the two of you can get back to his sprawling penthouse and curl up together in peace.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

The first few times you meet Kendall, you can tell most of what he does is a front he presents to the world, shielding the scared little boy behind those walls. As you start to get closer, maybe offering him a little sincerity to slip past the initial defences, he begins to reciprocate, ignoring the voice in his head that tells him that anything he reveals will just be used against him. When you don't run at that glimpse of the real Kendall, he's all in, ready to bare his soul to you, needing you to know everything about him like your approval will absolve everything that came before you. And just when you think you've heard it all, be prepared for him to tell you a childhood story with a hollow laugh that'll break your heart all over again.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Kendall's rarely had to wait for anything in his life, so sometimes his patience can fade quicker than he'd like. He might get a little snippy after a long day, feeling like sometimes you just can't understand the pressure he's under, but it doesn't take long before he's apologising and begging you to forgive him for speaking to you that way, knowing the more time you spend having each other's backs, the less Kendall grows frustrated at his situation and himself.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

There's never a shortage of amazing things planned in your life with Kendall, but when you have the perfect day together it's often just the both of you staying in at his place. Before you came into his life, his penthouse never felt like a pent-home, but that all changes the first time you spend a whole day draped across his couch together, doing 'nothing'. That usually looks like you making a shared playlist and blasting it through his speakers, bass turned all the way up as you show how to make a home-cooked meal. You'll narrate a movie to him while he shows you outrageously expensive shoes he wants to buy and makes you help him pick which colours to order. Finally you end up resting your head on his chest as you both know you should just go to bed, but he can't quite bring himself to let such a perfect day end, knowing he could live with any way his life worked out if he got to spend it with you.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

It's hard for Kendall to picture your relationship as anything but an ongoing stretch of sheer bliss, but he can't help the smile that flushes his cheeks when he remembers the first time he realised just how completely you could see through his father's falsehoods. It might have because you refused to show any reaction to his caustic comments, the backhanded compliments handled with grace, until finally he had to slink away without driving the wedge between you and Kendall that he had hoped to, your patience and kindness clearly the only superpower that defeat the villain Ken had spent his whole life bullied by.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

There are so many things in his life Kendall wants to protect you from; his siblings, his parents, his work, his reputation, even himself. At first he'd try to compartmentalise your relationship, keeping it away from all the complexities in his life so it could remain safe and unmarred. But you were the first to point out that you wanted to support Kendall in all his life, not just the easy parts, so gradually he had to face the risk of exposing you to everything he was dealing with. He watched as you unflinchingly accepted all of these bizarre characters and turns, turning from someone he wanted to protect, to the person that made him feel safe to be himself. And now when his instincts scream to keep you out of the Roy line of fire, he knows you can handle his life, even better than he ever did without you.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

No matter how much you insist that Kendall's money and connections aren't what matters about him to you, prepare to be absolutely spoiled at every possibility. He's not used to having someone he can worship entirely, and providing offerings to your sacred altar as a token of his faith in your love is the one thing Kendall knows he can do better than anyone.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Kendall's not used to people actually showing it when they're upset, spending his childhood living by the 'stiff-upper-lip' mentality, so when he sees you genuinely and sincerely upset he'd be able to feel his once-guarded heart breaking in two for you. He'd crumble at your side, hovering his hand next to yours, for fear even a tiny touch would damage you further. He'd be at your side in soft silence for as long as it took until you could tell him what was wrong, letting him trace the route of your tears with his thumb as he nervously rattles off a thousand things he could do to try and help with how you're feeling, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when a small smile breaks through your dark clouds at his words.

When Kendall's upset you'd be presented with an empty shell of a man, chasing anything that might just make him feel again. Wrap him in a blanket, hold his head in your lap, run your fingers through his hair, and don't leave his side. Every second you pass being there for him is a second that whatever is on his mind feels a little easier, until finally he's ready to face the world again, as long as you're there with him.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

I think Kendall likes to stay in shape for appearances, but more than caring about looks, Kendall just really enjoys fashion. It's a way he can show off a little part of who he is, the creative mind he rarely gets to put to use. As far as how you look, Kendall's never seen anyone more perfect for him, and he just loves to see you in whatever makes you feel confident and comfortable.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

Kendall puts an inordinate amount of effort to be friends with your friends. He'd pay such close attention whenever you spoke about them, and the first time he joined you on a casual games night or bar crawl it would be one of his favourite nights ever. He's so used to people only being his friend because they want something from him, so being surrounded with people that genuinely want to get to know him, who laugh and share jokes and stories with no ulterior motive, no malice and spite - he'd quickly be rushing to get all their details so he could plan the next time you'd all meet together again. Every birthday party, every night out, every brunch - Kendall's there.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

He'd always be able to tell when you were hiding something from him, recognising the slightly dishonest look that he was practically raised on - but he'd never know quite what to say to find out what was behind that look. Gradually after a day spent quietly perched by your side, you'd usually take mercy on the downtrodden man and tell him what was on your mind, the secret you'd tried to keep weighing on you much less heavily than having to hide something from your 'Dall.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

Once Kendall falls for you, his heart is truly and completely yours, and there's not much you could do that he wouldn't find a way to love. That being said, if he ever overheard you getting along with his siblings, he might just feel his stomach turn in unease.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

By the time Kendall gets to bed, he's usually exhausted and ready to completely crash, so more often than not he's pleading with you to help him out of his shirt, and his tired, restless hands try to return the favour, clutching at the folds of fabric that cover your body until he's so tired you wake up the next morning with his hand still desperately clinging to the white shirt that falls from your shoulders.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy fluff #kendall roy succession #succession imagines #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #kendall succession

224 notes · View notes

neontokyoo · 11 months

Note

Hello! Is it ok if I request again? If not then please do ignore this(⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

Otherwise, can I request William comforting wife!reader after she comes home from an exam, which didn't go very well, and they spend the rest of the day cuddling?

I just want him to be proud (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

Is this too specific? I don't know, but thank you very much 😘😘

Pairing: William James Moriarty x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: ^

Warnings: None

You arrive home after a grueling exam, the weight of disappointment heavy upon your shoulders. The day had started with such promise, but somewhere along the way, everything had gone wrong. As you enter your shared residence with William, you can't help but let out a weary sigh.

The sound catches William's attention, and he emerges from his study, concern etched across his face. His piercing scarlet eyes meet yours, and he immediately senses something is amiss. "Darling, what happened?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

You try to smile, but it falters, and tears well up in your eyes. "The exam... It didn't go well at all," you confess, your voice barely a whisper.

Without a moment's hesitation, William closes the distance between you, enveloping you in his warm embrace. His arms, strong yet tender, wrap around you, providing solace in the midst of your disappointment. You bury your face in his chest, seeking comfort and finding it in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You are so much more than a single exam, my love," William whispers into your hair. "You are intelligent, capable, and I believe in you wholeheartedly."

His words soothe the ache in your heart, and you cling to them, desperately needing their reassurance. In this moment, you find solace in the fact that someone believes in you when you struggle to believe in yourself.

William gently guides you to the living room, where the two of you settle on the plush couch. He pulls you into his lap, cradling you like a precious treasure. The comfort of his arms, coupled with the rhythmic caress of his hand on your back, lulls you into a state of tranquility.

As you rest against him, William peppers tender kisses along your temple, his lips whispering words of encouragement against your skin. "You are resilient, my love. One setback does not define you. Remember that failure is but a stepping stone towards greater success."

His words stir something within you, reigniting the flickering flame of hope. With each passing moment, the weight of disappointment begins to dissipate, replaced by the warmth of William's love and unwavering support. In his embrace, you find the strength to push aside the shadows of self-doubt and look towards a brighter future.

The hours pass, the outside world fading into insignificance as you and William indulge in the simplicity of each other's company. His presence is a balm to your soul, soothing the ache that had settled deep within you. The worries of the day are forgotten as you bask in the love he showers upon you.

William's fingers trace delicate patterns along your arm, his touch both comforting and electrifying. His whispers, like sweet melodies, dance through the air, filling the room with a sense of tranquility. The world outside may be filled with chaos, but here, in this intimate cocoon of affection, you find peace.

Lost in the safety of William's embrace, the two of you share stories, dreams, and aspirations. His genuine interest in your thoughts and feelings makes you feel seen, valued, and cherished. With every word exchanged, the connection between you deepens, and you realize that, with William by your side, no setback can ever extinguish the spark within you.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, you remain entwined in each other's arms. The room is bathed in the gentle glow of candlelight, casting a soft halo around your faces. The world outside may continue to spin, but here, within the confines of your love, time stands still.

#I'm about to burst into tears #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #ynm #yuumori #moriarty the patriot x reader #william james moriarty #mtp x reader #moriarty anime #mtp #ynm william #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #william moriarty #kora's anons

57 notes · View notes

dailybbq · 8 months

Note

You think Qtaro’s orphanage ACTUALLY raised him well, in a comfortable healthy household or was he just manipulated into thinking that? Bc I remember him saying in the Mishima Fondness events that he had a ‘great’ childhood due to the support from the people of his orphanage.. but.. I really doubt that since his orphanage was owned by asunaro.

FONDNESS EVENT:

KAZUMI: Then... you had a difficult childhood...? Q-TARO: S'not that at all! I was burnin' bright! KAZUMI: Because you had the support of everyone at the orphanage, I take it.

Q-TARO'S AI:

I was raised up in an orphanage that’s just a mite bit weird. Had people from all sortsa countries. I got a lotta dialects and stuff mixed in me… 'Course, they sent me to compulsory education up 'til high school. Can’t thank the place enough.

ON KAI:

From Kai… I sensed the scent of a lonely person. Dunno nothin' about the guy, but… As somebody of the same kind, I wanna see his dying wish through.

(placing relevant quotes here for easy reference!)

Personally, I read Q-taro to genuinely believe that the orphanage was making the best of an all-around awful situation. On an individual level, this is very true! On a management level? ...buddy, Asunaro's not even paying for your high school because it's not compulsory.

Due to what little information Q-taro's given on the orphanage he was raised, I'm inclined to believe that it was an organization specifically centered around aiding native-born stateless orphans. Now, it already creates difficulty finding basic (legal) healthcare and education; but this same situation is what works best for (what we now know of) Asunaro. Within the orphanage, it's much easier to scout out possible future agents (for their resilience in spite of the situation they were granted; or possibly to take in young children to raise as agents; or... worse, experimentation), as well as... hide their own. As Asunaro's essentially functioning as a yakuza group, they are involved in the 'underground' of society and there are many who may give up their children for safety—whether it is temporary, to fully disconnect them from the yakuza (in being given another name), it's easier to feign being another person within an organization like that.

Additionally, as Asunaro is not simply funding the orphanage, but has their name attached to it—I believe they're also taking advantage of this to idly test everyone there. Despite their yakuza origins and various other connections to separate organizations, they are first and foremost a research agency on humanity. As Q-taro agrees to... he didn't consider himself to have a difficult childhood because he was given support from everyone at the orphanage. Asunaro in their experiments are proved again, and again, that emotional bonds are what uplifts humans and (typically) makes them stronger/more successful.

This is partially what interests me in Q-taro and Kai's 'similar' dichotomy.

Q-taro's orphanage had little resources to work with, yet held such loving people he wanted to do right by. Despite his hardship, and the anger Q-taro carried when he was younger toward his parents, he eventually realized it doesn't... matter if his biological parents thought he was trash to be discarded; he still has family in the orphanage. He was never as lonely as he thought he was, and this is what eventually opened him up. From this, he considers them to be his 'family' and the 'light' of his life; even after he left to pursue baseball, he consistently returns to the orphanage to provide the kids there hope. The very same hope that he (wishes he) had at that age. He's a pillar of unconditional support for them, as one of the few adults who stays.

By contrast, as confirmed in the ministories (though this was my belief before simply on the basis of. how his father acted + Gin's one line lol), Kai was granted a 'richer' life when he hadn't yet stained his record as an assassin. Whereas Asunaro must keep a relatively low-profile with the orphanage, they could indulge within their own faculties. However, most of these funds come down to what was used to train Kai; meaning food and the like were all negotiable variables dependent on his progress and must be permitted by his guardian (Gashu). There was standard neglect in place for those who fell too far—unlike the orphanage, everything within the facility is conditional. The only moment when Kai finds 'light' (or, as he says: 'a reason to live' - one Asunaro failed to provide) is when he meets the Chidouins and is finally granted a chance to love and be loved in turn, but even that hangs in the balance and... inevitably falls through, due to his own failure to protect them.

In a sense, due to neglect, they both struggle with staying close to those they love, for fear of emburdening them. Which they recognize causes more harm, but this isolation is what they are accustomed to coping with.

Q-taro doesn't wish to hoard resources or make conversation 'heavy' when the situation is already dire. This is why he refused to see those who cared for him when he was hospitalized; he feels that proving "orphans can realize their dreams" is his responsibility alone and seeing him in such a state would put a stake in that dream. Meanwhile, Kai doesn't wish to impose himself on the Chidouins because he's been conditioned to believe he isn't worthy of civilian life, though he still dearly wishes to uplift them where he can. As another agent, he's been used enough, and doesn't wish to be an extension of Asunaro any more than he must—he doesn't wish to damn those he cares for simply because he's been raised in 'darkness' (...as Sara doesn't want to drag people she loves into 'darkness' - or 'danger'). As it is, the Chidouins have caught Asunaro's eye. Only Kai, of darkness, can only serve as a barrier because he's well-accustomed to its ruthless cruelty. This is his sole duty.

Their isolation, this loneliness, is born of their intense love and desire to have someone else they can freely connect with but are unable to due to their perceived responsibilities so no one else may suffer hopelessness as they once did.

...but I digress!

All that said, this is my long-winded way of saying: I don't believe Q-taro's living conditions were the best, but I think he tends to focus more on the people rather than the situation. Friends within the orphanage could help him gather money, would encourage him when he struggles academically, so on, so forth! Ultimately, he feels he's better off for his strife, so he doesn't blame the orphanage.

#SO SORRY FOR TAKING A FEW DAYS...! chronic fatigue has been hittin' hard OTL but! i hope this suffices #well. despite me getting. incredibly off track x']#||#yttd #yttd hcs #& kai #meta #asks #requests

30 notes · View notes

miss-apparition · 9 months

Text

Not surprised really but kinda disappointed

With Doja Cat, she doesn’t have to say “I love you” to her fans but there are different ways of showing appreciation. They made you this successful and are the reason your rich the least you can do is say thank you.

I didn’t know her history when it came to her relationships but Ethan Slater and her are both in the wrong. Definitely criticizing Ethan more as he’s the one who made the dumbass decision but I will shoot some at Ari too. What business do you have trying to get with someone who’s taken? This euphoria of being able to take anybodies man may be great to you but the damage you cause to the other party is even greater. It sucks that she doesn’t care but it is what it is.

I really haven’t even organized my thoughts when it comes to Lizzo. It’s all around disgusting. I hope the consequences hit her the hardest. I hope those dancers get justice and find work that offers comfort, respect and safety.

#Doja Cat #arianna grande #Lizzo #celebrity drama #lawsuits #these are my opinions and feel free to comment your own #correct me if I got anything wrong #doja cat drama #arianna grande drama #Lizzo lawsuit

9 notes · View notes

pasteltechno · 1 year

Text

I’ll Stay With You Till The Break Of Dawn (angst oneshot)

⚠️Trigger Warnings⚠️

Hurt/comfort, memories of religious abuse, childhood trauma, thoughts of suicide, hypnosis, nightmares, self blaming, mentions of age regression.

Ship:

Pastel Techno x Licorice

Characters:

Pastel Techno (🎤)

Licorice (💀)

Poison Mushroom (🍄)

Pomegranate (♦️)

Aunt Mahalabia

Mille-feuille

Toxipop (🍬)

Cream Unicorn (🦄)

That night, Pastel Techno Cookie came back to the dark table room feeling defeated from losing another argument with Toxipop Cookie. Since Toxipop Cookie broke out of jail, all of her friends and fans mocked Pastel Techno Cookie for being successful, then they attacked her supporters as revenge too. She sat down on her chair and looked down at the table. Eyes darkened as she thought to herself: "Maybe she's right, maybe I am just an attention seeking brat who deserved nothing." But then she heard a voice coming behind her.

♦️: "Is something troubling you?"

It was Pomegranate, only checking if she was okay. She lifted her head to look at her.

🎤: "Toxipop Cookie is back, and she's still getting on my nerves. She's corrupted my mind with these thoughts she casted, and I don't know why..."

Pastel sighed, Pomegranate knows how hurt she is. But she know what she can do to help.

♦️: "Is she really? Is she making you feel this way? ...Perhaps my mirror shall reveal what your fate shall be if the situation you're in keeps going."

Pastel nodded as she looked at Pomegranate's mirror, started to feel hypnotized. Then it magically revealed something horrifying. An image of her "hanging" in flower vines, and flowers blooming from her dough. Tears of sorrow and fear stream down from her hypnotized eyes, softly sobbing as she saw it.

♦️: "I see, so you do feel unsafe around her. These thoughts she fills you leading you to your fate as I see the tears of fear streaming down. Did you really think ending yourself would make cookies the smiles upon their faces? Hm... perhaps I can help you change your fate somehow."

Pomegranate said as she lifts Pastel's chin gently.

♦️: "Choco Berry Cookie, your love for Licorice Cookie is one the ways to help, even though it disturbs me many times. And I sense your mental health is running thin. Whatever happens to you, we cannot let you fall in the same fate like what our master did in the past. I pray for your safety as we speak. Either way, we might be able to find our way to get rid of these thoughts."

More tears streaming down, sobbing slowly gets louder.

♦️: "Hush now, Choco Berry Cookie, I shall sooth your mind with a lullaby spell."

Pomegranate said as she casted a lullaby spell on Pastel. She stopped crying as her eyelids are getting heavy.

♦️: "Rest well, Choco Berry Cookie. I'll soon get Licorice Cookie to hold you until the break of dawn."

Pastel finally starts to fall asleep, just then Poison Mushroom walked in to check on the two cookies.

🍄: "Pomegranate Cookie..? Is Pastel okay..?"

Pomegranate turns around to see Poison Mushroom being concerned.

♦️: "Oh, your dear friend is having a hard day on herself, and her rivals were so very cruel to her. So I decided to help clear her mind."

She told them as she carried Pastel to her room

🍄: "Poor Pastel Techno Cookie, I hope she gets better soon. I found lots of Raspberry shroomies from the the Hollyberry Kingdom, I'll give some to her when she wakes up."

♦️: "That's wonderful, Poison Mushroom Cookie."

She said as she puts Pastel down to bed. As the two leave the bedroom, hours past as the soothing lullaby spell starts to wear off, and Pastel Techno began to dream about the horrors of her childhood past and her fate. And the thoughts kept coming back.

Aunt Mahalabia Cookie: "Such a disrespectful child, always reject the following rules of our Monastery. If she keeps up with her unacceptable behavior, she will never see the holy light of our godly makers!"

Mille-feuille Cookie: "Maybe she still has a childish mindset. If he can refresh her mind, she'll be as kind, truthful, and obedient."

🎤: "No... stop...!"

Aunt Mahalabia Cookie: "What an excellent idea, mother. I shall bring her, and we'll clean the filth of her mindset."

🎤: "Stop...! no more..!!"

Toxipop Cookie: "Aw, what's the matter, "Princess"? Jealous of my victory over you? Ahahaha!!"

The voices of her Aunt, grandmother, and Toxipop kept spouting into her head. She stepped back in fear then bumped into something behind her. She screamed and collapse as she saw a frame of her future death. It's staring at her so soullessly with pitch black eyes. She gets up and runs away from the frame and into a pitch black room. She got tired of running, so she lays down and sobbed. Back outside her dream, her Unicorn plush doll is sitting there on her mirror dresser, and it starts glowing. In her dream, the pitch blackness starts to fade to a purple dreamy world. She stopped crying and looked around. Purple fluffy clouds are below her feet, and the sky is full of stars.

🎤: "Wh... what is this..?"

Suddenly, she heard a clip clops sounding like a horse behind her. She turns around to see a white and colorful unicorn with a sparkly cape and butterflies surrounding them. A silence between the two for a minute or two, then she sighed.

🎤: "Why would I deserve this place? All I did is to make things worse. I deserve nothing but becoming crumbs, not this. Everyone would be better off without me, Toxipop Cookie was right after all..."

She said as she sits down with tears flowing down. The unicorn sat down in front of her.

🎤: "I'm such a horrible cookie..!! I deserve to face the consequences of my existence..! Even though I wanted to go back to be young again..."

More tears keep streaming down. The Unicorn changes to their cookie form, and walked to her. Wiping her tears away and holding her hands gently.

🦄: "You don't have to feel this way, Choco Berry Cookie. And I know how you feel too."

They said in a gentle tone. She looked up to see the unicorn as their form of a cookie.

🎤: "W-what do you mean."

🦄: "You are such a wonderful cookie through the years of your hometown, the Hollyberry Kingdom. Your parents, your cousin, your fans, even you lover Licorice Cookie. They all love you, and everything you do for them. Even Licorice Cookie had the same problems like you do, and you knew how to show your love and kindness to him."

🎤: "Wait a minute... you're the plush I got from my birthday and came to life in my dreams, right?"

🦄: "Why yes, I am!"

They said as she starts to have a sudden realization.

🎤: "So you're... Cream Unicorn Cookie..!?"

🦄: "Yes, you do remember me!"

They quickly gave her a hug as she finally remembered them. She hugged back sobbing.

🦄: "Look at you, all grown up! I could've been more proud of you! The first time I saw you, I couldn't imagine how precious you were back then!"

They both break the hug holding both hands.

🦄: "Maybe someday when you start dreaming again, I'll take you to a place where you feel safe and happy, Cookieland.”

🎤: "Y-yeah, that's sounds nice."

She sniffled as they hand out her childhood blanket, and she wrapped the blanket around her body as they both lie down.

🦄: "Remember that your inner child will always love you no matter what. Don't end your life this way, and embrace the warmth and comfort of your childhood."

🎤: "Th-thank you, Cream Unicorn Cookie..."

They said as they both cuddled in each other's arms.

(Small time skip)

An hour has pasted til midnight, Pastel wake up to see Licorice Cookie waking her up all worried sick.

💀: "Pastel, w-wake up! Are you alright..?"

She can tell he's worried for her. She teared up and hugged him.

🎤: "*sniffle* L-Licorice Cookie..."

💀: "Hey, shh.. I'm here. Everything's okay now.. I'm so sorry that Toxipop Cookie made you feel this way, Pomegranate told me you've been hurt mentally."

Licorice knows what he learned from his beloved girlfriend, love and comfort. Pastel calmed down a bit.

💀: "Now, do you need anything? You've been crying so much, I could get you something to drink if you'd like."

Suddenly he noticed the unicorn plush doll sitting on her mirror dresser. He grabbed and hand it to her.

💀: "I think you need this, right."

🎤: "Mhm.."

She hugged the unicorn doll, then Licorice grabbed his baby blanket he's been keeping for some time, and wrapped it around her body. They both lay down on the bed cuddling.

💀: "I'll Stay With You Till The Break Of Dawn, okay? I love you, Pastel Techno Cookie."

🎤: "Okay, I love you too."

He kissed her forehead went to sleep with her in his arms cradling her. She thought to herself: "Cream Unicorn Cookie... I thank you for being here in my dreams with me. I never knew you were watching over me this entire time growing up. And at this age, I haven't felt so...

Little."

(P.S damn I'm getting so emotional writing this oneshot 🥹)

#cookie run #licorice cookie #cookie run oc #oc x canon #poison mushroom cookie #pomegranate cookie #angst #oneshot #mille feuille cookie #hurt comfort

9 notes · View notes

olivinesea · 2 years

Text

A Mixed Blessing

a/n: If you were here for the beginning of this, you’ll know this is not a nice ride. Things are serious, themes are dark and a lot of demons are present. We’re still in the thick of it but I will say, everything is not hopeless. It’s still a struggle but now we’re struggling towards the light.

A little summary of events so far: Aaron has a terrible home life that he’s been trying to outrun for years. Unable to find physical safety or comfort, he began leaning into drugs and alcohol to escape. In high school he meets an older boy who shares a similar background and shows Aaron the attention and understanding he’d been lacking. It feels perfect. However, Cole is unstable and pulls them both deeper into a dangerous addiction, all the while becoming yet another example to Aaron of the way love and pain are unavoidably intertwined. There is a brief moment when he meets Haley when it seems like things might turn around for him, only to be dragged back into Cole’s orbit once more. Feeling reckless and like he doesn’t belong anywhere, like there’s no one that cares, Aaron takes an excessive hit and lets fate handle the consequences.

warning for descriptions of injuries & overdose aftermath; ~2.8k

chapter nine: and the ghosts

The stage lights were bright in her eyes as she took her final bow, the sound of applause almost enough to drown out the nagging worry that had chased her from scene to scene. She hadn’t spotted Aaron all night. She squinted into the audience, thinking maybe he’d come late and been relegated to the sidelines. Or maybe he’d forgotten entirely. She wouldn’t be that surprised with the way things had been going. Disappointed certainly, but the antagonism between him and the theater teacher had only intensified. His behavior had been too erratic to ever fit in despite her best efforts to conjure goodwill toward him from the group.

She was swept off stage by the bubbling cast, voices chattering over one another, everyone riding the high of adrenaline that followed an opening night success. No one else seemed to miss one tall, dark-haired pirate. With unease winding up her spine, Haley decided to skip going to the green room and instead diverted to the stairs by passing through the wing offstage. Her long skirts were dragged by an object on the ground, half buried in shadows. Pausing to bend over and pick it up, her fingers became icy as her blood drained away and was replaced by fear. It was the ratty pirate hat she knew belonged to Aaron. The stitching was loose and she’d been meaning to fix it for him before the show. He kept forgetting to bring it to her. He’d promised her he wouldn’t forget it tonight.

She moved faster then, perplexed about where he could be. Clearly he’d been here so why wasn’t he still backstage? She hurried into the sea of bodies, currents of movement swirling every which way as people stood in groups to chat or drifted idly toward the exits. She struggled to spot her family, midway back, waiting for her in an aisle. Fixated on Aaron’s non-appearance, she couldn’t make sense of their smiling faces. In turn, buzzing from their enjoyment of her performance, they couldn’t recognize her worry. Only Jessica, as her sister came closer, began to grow puzzled at Haley’s obvious distress. She continued scanning the people, searching for one towering shape as she crossed over to her family. Hoping this was just a mistake, just a hiccup in the evening she had planned so well. This was supposed to be a turning point. This was the night he was going to meet her family. She’d told him how important it was.

But he wasn’t there.

“Haley you were wonderful,” her mother smiled at her, handing her flowers that she accepted distractedly.

“Have you seen Aaron?” She was too concerned to take in their praise. There was a vibration at the back of her skull, a warning that something was terribly off. He should be here. He’d been strange that afternoon—longer than that really if she was being honest with herself. She’d wanted to believe she could help, could keep him in her world but she’d watched his eyes lose their brightness, the dark circles filling back in around them. He’d become even quieter than he had been when they first met. He barely paid attention when they were together, his mind drifted to the solitary places he barred her from following. If he wasn’t here she had an upsetting certainty about where she might find him.

She bolted up the aisle, no sooner than she’d had the realization, she was already moving toward the exit. Her feet acted before her mind registered the thought completely. She needed to get to him right now.

“Haley!” her father called after her while her mother looked around confused, asking questions to the air. This was so unlike their daughter. Maybe the older one might have pulled a stunt like this, but not Haley. Not with all her patience and care for those around her. She’d never abandon them without explanation.

Jessica had been watching, at first amused that Haley had become so infatuated with a boy that she was acting like this, but as she saw the crease form between her eyebrows, her worry deepening, Jess caught on to the seriousness of her sister’s anxiety. She knew just enough about this boy that she could make the connections nearly as fast as Haley.

“I’ll go with her, don’t worry,” she tried to placate her parents as she started to follow up the aisle.

“Go where?” her mother nearly wailed.

“To find Aaron,” Jess called back over her shoulder, not risking turning around and being caught up by more questions. Haley had already almost reached the exit and while Jessica thought she knew where she was headed, she didn’t want to be too far behind.

“Aaron?” Mr. Brooks said the name like he was having a hard time placing it. “That Hotchner boy? What the hell—“

Mrs. Brooks leaned a hand on her husband’s shoulder, watching her two daughters disappear into the crowd, behaving in ways she would never have expected, could not understand. “Where are they going Roy?”

Mr. Brooks shook his head. He trusted his girls, he knew they had solid heads on their shoulders, but that boy…that whole Hotchner family, he wouldn’t trust them for a second. “We better go get the car.”

Mrs. Brooks picked up the bouquet Haley had dropped, the small white petals of the daisies bruised and bent.

The cold air scraped at her face as she ran through the grass behind the school. She wouldn’t have been able to put into words how she was so certain she would find Aaron in the woods, so convinced that time was not on her side. Her heart was screaming at her to run faster, pushing her lungs to keep dragging in air despite the fear that constricted their movement. Her long costume skirt got tangled around her ankles, nearly tripping her more than once. She was briefly thankful that she had insisted on boots rather than the character shoes favored by the director. Her co-lead had been short, their kiss too awkward an angle for high schoolers to manage without a little bit of a bruised ego. She thought about the way the boy had sneered at Aaron and wished she had done more to bruise his stupid ego. It was too late for that now.

As if time blinked she was suddenly crashing into the clearing. Her loud entrance exaggerated by the stillness she found there, a dark, lonely scene. She had only been here once before and found it uncomfortable enough during the day. If it had been a miniature hell then, presided over by Cole’s demonic presence, it was now a haunted chapel, spindly trees towering above, branches muttering curses. Everything appeared dirtier, more broken down in the dark, like no one had been there for hundreds of years, the ruins of a faith unanswered. She had to stop to catch her breath, dizzy from the run. There was nothing to be afraid of from the woods, she scolded herself. The danger she felt, the evil of this place was contained in the rundown shed. With a determined set of her shoulders, she kept moving.

She could make out the barest flicker of light coming from around the edges of the windows, the crack between the frame and the crooked door. Her hand met the doorknob and instantly all her will disappeared. She had no strength to push it open, too afraid of what she would find. Then a branch snapped behind her, alerting her that she’d been followed and reminding her of the time she was wasting with her hesitation. She bit down hard on her tongue, tasting blood and sorrow. Whatever she was going to find on the other side of that door was going to weigh heavily on the rest of her life, she was sure of it. She only hoped it wasn’t too late to repair the damage. The rush of sound made by someone drawing closer was enough to finally push her forward. The door gave easily and she stumbled into the dark.

Jessica had never seen her sister run so fast. They’d grown up racing, with Jess usually winning by virtue of her longer legs, the benefit of a couple extra years of growth already accomplished. She never let that basic reality diminish her pleasure in defeating her sister each time. She loved to run and kept at it even when Haley stopped giving into their mismatched races. Sometimes she would find it too boring to walk, feeling that time was taking too long, and would race herself to wherever it was she was headed. It earned her a few disapproving looks and more than a few shouted reprimands from teachers or other older people she passed by. She hardly cared and it never once slowed her down.

In an effort to appease her mother’s requests to show some school spirit—like your sister—she had even joined the track team one season. She had been the fastest on the team but couldn’t find any motivation to run like that. What was the point, she’d wondered, of working so hard to end up where you started? It held none of the thrill of diving headlong through fields and forest, unexpected obstacles waiting to catch you at every turn. The sterile rubberized track and the matching uniforms and the oddly specific quirks of team sports that everyone else seemed to understand without being told sent her running from that quickly enough. She would still find reasons to run of course, her body was unwilling to let go of that thrill.

So it was surprising to find that it was such a struggle to keep up with Haley’s flight from school. With every extra ounce of effort she became more frightened by this. Haley didn’t scare, she was solid, not the silly flighty thing people liked to read into her blonde ponytail and wide blue eyes. If Jessica was the wind, restless and racing from place to place; Haley was a rock, steady and reliable, determined and stubborn to the end. Seeing her like this was more than enough to tell Jessica that she needed to prepare for the worst, that a threat lay ahead.

She made it to the clearing just in time to see Haley standing outside the shed door, shoulders pushed back as she shook her head, steeling herself for what she was going into. Not one for religion, Jessica breathed a prayer anyway, that her sister was as strong as she believed.

Inside the shed, the light was dim but his form was easy to make out. Haley’s eyes were immediately drawn to him, sprawled out on that dirty mattress in the center of the room, like a staged crime scene in a bad movie. She was frozen by all the information coming at her, overwhelmed by what she saw. It was as if she could see every grain of the universe around her, the atoms shaking and wanting to dissolve to black. She fought against the urge to faint. The world tipped like a slide and she was rushing forward, dropping down beside him, ignoring the painful shock in her knees as debris crunched beneath her.

“Aaron, wake up, Aaron.”

She was afraid of touching him, afraid her fingers would tear at his pale, papery skin. She reached out but held her hands just above his cheeks. They were scarily devoid of color, like he was made of ash, sure to dissolve at the slightest disturbance. She settled for touching his shoulder, hoping the fabric of his shirt would protect him. A distant, logical part of her demanded to know why he was out here in only a shirt. This sorry excuse for a structure was no barrier to the frigid winter temperatures. Why would he do this? There was no reaction to her touch, no sign of life. She shook his shoulder gently but that only caused a sickening loll of his head. His face turned towards her, eyes closed and shadowed, his dry lips cracked and bruised.

Feeling sick, Haley removed the belt he had wrapped around his bicep. She ran her hand along the inside of his arm, startled by the chill on his skin. She lingered over the marks inside his elbow, a dark purple red that jumped out from his pale skin. They were the most striking colors on him, perversely the strongest tie to life she could make out in his appearance. But there were other messages taunting from his skin, blue green bruises and traces of scars not easily explained. Some were silvery and faint, others seemed fresh, new enough that she was undoubtedly with him while they were forming. How had she missed all this? Could he really have been so good at hiding how bad things had gotten? Her cheeks burned as she thought about the past few months, the course of their friendship. Had she been respecting his privacy or was she just afraid to see, afraid to look at the shame of what he had returned to? She had told herself she was making a difference, she was rehabilitating him. Really she was no better than any of the others, maybe even worse. Her heart twisted in her throat.

“Please,” she whispered, close to tears. “Please don’t do this.”

Jessica crashed down beside her, seemingly unafraid to disturb the body Haley wasn’t sure still held Aaron within it. She pressed her fingers hard against his neck, feeling for a pulse. At the same time she leaned in close to him, all but pushing Haley out of the way. Unwilling to lose contact she shifted to sit on the mattress beside him, holding his hand. It was so cold her own skin burned against his. Illogically she rubbed his fingers between her own palms, like this motion could do anything to help.

Jessica could feel the warm tickle of air on her ear as he exhaled, his breaths so shallow they were almost non-existent. The sensation was the only thing that convinced her the slight twitching beneath his skin was a pulse and not her imagination. He was still alive, however barely. He needed help but that wasn’t going to come easily out here.

“He’s breathing. We have to get him to the hospital.”

Haley’s eyes widened, hope a tiny seed in her chest. He was alive.

“It’s too far to carry him,” she continued. “We have to go back to school to call an ambulance.”

“I can’t leave him.” Haley became frantic at the thought of him alone again in this place. Knowing he was still in there, that there was still a chance, she felt like she couldn’t stop looking at him in case that was the moment his soul let go. She studied his face, his arms, all the bruises and damage inflicted there. She knew, looking at all the evidence in front of her, he wasn’t going to be the one to hold on; she would have to do it for him. She squeezed his hand even tighter, like the pressure would tether him. She was not going to let him slip away.

“I’ll go. If he stops breathing you have to give him CPR okay?”

Haley sniffed and brushed away a tear. She had never appreciated her sister’s cool rationality more than in this moment. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good, I’ll be as fast as I can. Here, put this on him.” Jess found a thick mildewy grey blanket on the ground. It smelled but it was better than letting him freeze. She helped Haley cover him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders, carefully avoiding blocking his airway. Haley settled cross-legged behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and leaning his weight against her, hoping her warmth could make a difference. She whispered into his ear, promising that help was coming, begging him to stay with her a little longer. She didn’t look up when Jess left, a cold rush of air announcing her exit as the door swung open and closed.

The minutes felt endless, she was sure every other moment that he had stopped breathing. She leaned closer and closer until she was resting her cheek against his, breathing as he breathed.

“Please, please, please,” she was stuck repeating this one word over and over. The sour smells of the shed and her tears mixed with the dirt and created a slick layer of grime on both their faces. She listened for footsteps, for tires, for sirens. Anything to indicate help had arrived. All she could hear was silence and the hope that pulsed with their heartbeats, fading with each passing moment.

#aaron hotchner #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #hotch backstory #young hotch #young haley #jessica brooks #a mixed blessing

21 notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

The Queen’s Hand

(Part VIII: The Black Queen)

Summary Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII

“My Queen,” Lord Lyonel says in greeting. The room is empty, save for the two of them. Aemmia has requested him and him alone.

“Grandsire,” Aemmia chokes out. “Now is no time for formalities. I need a kind word and a familiar hand.”

Harwin’s father sighs, “what can I do, dearest?”

“Give me the truth of it. How bad off are we?”

“We?” Lyonel whispers. “Those of us on King’s Landing?”

“Start there, yes.” Aemmia nods.

“We are fortified against any attack, with ships in all directions. No one will come by surprise.”

“The Velaryons will come by sea, my family will come by dragon.” She points out.

“Aemmia,” Lyonel takes her hand in his, “if I may? Vhagar is the largest claimed dragon in all the realms. She would do much damage. Same as Aranthi and Sunfyre. But Rhaenyra has more dragons with more experienced riders. Though none of them have been to war.”

“What about man power? We have Ser Criston, Aemond can fight, along with what’s left of the King’s Army.” She trails off, “they have Daemon, a warrior in his own right, more experienced than any of our soldiers. They have my father, the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms.”

“Who does not intend to use said strength against you of all people. You are his child. He loves you, as your mother loves you.”

Aemmia nods, attempting to compose herself.

“Such love does not disappear on a whim.”

“I know I- I do not know what’s come over me.” She holds a protective hand to her belly, just begun to protrude.

“You are frightened. I have left you too often by yourself, that was not my intention.” Lyonel apologizes.

“We are all doing what we can.” Aemmia shakes her head.

“What of Aemond? I’m sure his presence would be most reassuring to you in these times.”

“My husband cares for me and I for him. But we’ve come up differently. I was taught to lean in for comfort, he learned to close in on himself for solace.”

“Perhaps you will find compromise.” Lyonel smiles, kindly.

Aemmia blinks in quick succession, he is regarding her in a way he never has. “What is it?”

Lyonel pats her cheek. “When your mother first asked for your father’s hand, I denied her. She was highly sought after, proposals flew in from right and left. I, as Hand to your late Grandsire, saw them all. She could have married into a house of higher standing than my own. But she would not marry. I believed it was her chosen path to serve the crown.

My son, had already sired a son by Princess Rhaenyra. King Viserys denied it, but everyone knew. Some say I love Harwin to a fault. Still I could not bring myself to allow Y/N the shame. Nor could I speak on the parentage of Jacaerys, it would mean exile and death for all involved. After Lucerys was born, Y/N came again. She said onto me, I will take him as he is. All he has done, all he will do matters not. I will take Ser Harwin Strong and unsully his name. I will love his sons as my own and ensure their legitimacy. I will bear him children of high status in court and heirs to Harrenhal.”

Lyonel recounts, with a far off look in his eyes. “If you had told me then that one of those children would become Queen of the seven kingdoms, I would’ve laughed. Over the years your mother has become very dear to my heart. It gives me hope to know that her legacy and my boy’s will live on in you.”

“She is much stronger than I.” Aemmia argues, “I am not suited for this.”

“What you do now will live in infamy, Aemmia. By your hand will come the rise or fall of the mighty House Targaryen.”

————————————🌱———————————

Y/N learns of their intruder by a tune. A simple melody echoing up from the lower level. Daemon ordered him locked away for later questioning, though he did not alert the Queen, nor her Princess Hand.

It has been but minutes since the return of Laenor, carrying Viserys’ crown. Passed straight from Aemmia’s hand to his own.

‘How is she, Laenor? How is my girl?’ Y/N takes his arm.

‘She is well,’ Laenor holds back.

Y/N hoped the affirmation of Aemmia’s intentions would calm her uncle. Perhaps she was wrong. The rogue prince still lives within him.

The song has passed down through Y/N’s mother, Aemma, to her children. Y/N follows the sound to the cellar. A body is hunched over on the floor, curled in against itself for warmth.

Carefully Y/N closes the distance between herself and the prisoner. “Aegon?”

He startles, “Y/N.”

“Why’ve you come?”

“By my Grandsire’s will, to plead for the life of my mother and house.” Aegon informs her.

“You seem very lax for delivering such a message.” Y/N scoffs.

“What does it matter?” He throws up a hand. “If you wish to show mercy, then we are already saved. And if you wish to collect on bloodlust then we are naught but walking corpses.”

“Why send you?” Y/N wonders. “Why not Aemmia or Aemond?”

“They are too valuable these days.” Aegon purses his lips.

“Hmm.”

“He thought I might also play into the love we once shared.” Aegon replies, flippantly. “I cant recall, but I’m sure you do.”

When Aegon was born, until his second name day, Y/N doted on her sweet brother. Bringing forth the most beautiful dragon’s egg for him. Unfortunately it was a love that could not be, although they both desperately needed it. Driven apart by jealousy and aspirations of power.

‘She will poison his mind.’ Otto told Alicent, ‘he will favor her over you.’

Y/N nods. “I would like you to return to your mother. Assure her that we are drawing up fair terms, for each and every one of you.”

“Did you love me?” He wonders, cocking his head to the side. He’s never known her to love any of them but Rhaenyra.

Y/N pauses, swallowing down all her guilt. Her heart tearing anew as she finds his eyes, hollow from the hand he was dealt. Much different from hers, and what his own might have been if only- “I did love you, Aegon.” She admits, “I loved you with all my heart.”

Aegon holds her stare, as if willing his mind to recount details it cannot. “Pity.”

“Indeed.”

“That would, however make you one of the few people who ever did.” He lifts a shoulder, “I will not exploit you for it. I do ask you spare my children at least.” Aegon whispers, “I’ve not been much a father to them, but our sins should not be their’s to account for.”

Y/N turns away. “Be a better father when you return, a better husband to your wife. Become the man I hoped you to be and do not take for granted the mercy afforded you.”

“I am not like you, I’m not cut out for this.” Aegon calls out to her. “I never wanted this.”

“And I never wanted it for you. But it matters not what we want, only what we do with the cards we are given.”

————————————🌱———————————

“Do you wish me bald?” Aemond quips, as his wife’s anxious fingers pull at his locks.

He does not mind her toying with his hair, Aemond has come to enjoy the gentle intimacy that Aemmia has brought into his life. But something is off about this.

“There is a time for tugging and a time for stroking, wouldn’t you say?” Aemond tries again. Her restless motions continue until he reaches back, catching her wrist. “Aemmia.”

“Forgive me.” She says immediately, dropping the blonde tresses. Reeling her mind back from the great unknown.

“Where did you go?”

“I was only thinking.” Aemmia presses a kiss to his cheek to reassure him.

“What about?”

“If our children take my features over yours, will you be very disappointed?”

Aemond’s mouth quirks up, “of all the things to worry about, you choose this?”

“And if it is a daughter instead of a son?”

“Then I shall have a father’s girl in your image. She will be terribly spoilt.”

“How about a dragon?” Aemmia goes about pacing the floor.

“Atara might bring forth another clutch.” Aegon’s dragon, Sunfyre, said to be the most magnificent in all of Westeros, was a gift from her first.

Aemmia nods, Atara is her mother’s dragon. “My mother always said that dragons are one with our souls. They’re privy to our fears, strengths, weaknesses, our heart’s greatest desires. That’s why some are born to us while others find us later.”

“Hmm,” Aemond hums, it’s an interesting theory.

“Atara and Aranthi have never been apart.”

“Dragons are different than humans, my love.” Aemond murmurs. If Atara is in any distress it would be more likely from Y/N’s longing for Aemmia than the dragon’s longing for one of its own children.

“Did you know my father learned High Valyrian to speak to Atara?”

“Why?”

“Because she is one with my mother and therefore part of him.” Aemmia breaks off.

“You mustn’t do this to yourself.” Aemond scrubs his fingers over his forehead.

“I know that, Aemond. Only sometimes I can’t help it.”

“You miss them terribly,” Aemond says.

“I do,” she admits, staring down at the floor.

“I would like to know them.”

“You plan to stay with me then, when this is finished?”

Aemond sighs, “I do. If it’s allowed of me.”

Aemmia gives him a gentle smile. “Who knows, you may even come to love them.”

“Let’s not be overzealous.”

“My mother would like you.” The brunette presses on.

“She never did.” Aemond replies, with a shake of his head.

“She never had a chance.”

———————————🌱————————————

“It is imperative that we know the intentions of Eyrie, Stark and Baratheon. With house Stark the north will follow.” Daemon says, his tone clipped. He is irritated, to say the least, at Y/N’s choices.

‘If you are to be Hand, you must hold the Queen’s safety above all others. You must be willing to drench yourself in the blood of thousands in her name!’ He scolds Y/N.

‘Who has stood more faithfully by her side than I? While you waged wars and fathered children, free to marry as you saw fit, who was there for Rhaenyra? When you abandoned her during her labors with your daughter to raise hell, who held her? You dare tell me what it means to be my sister’s hand? I have done it all her life!’ Y/N spits back.

‘You love her, I will not deny this.’ Daemon lowers his voice. ‘But loving her and leading her are two very different tasks. You need to toughen your skin as well as your heart to succeed in both. Think of our numbers, in dragons alone. Atara, Syrax, Caraxes, Seasmoke, Meleys, and that doesn’t include the children’s dragons, three more wild reside here on Dragon Stone. We could have every Green head mounted on a spike and Rhaenyra on the throne before the fucking day’s end.”

‘I will not advise Rhaenyra to slay her own kin!’

“Send us.” Jace suggests, “dragons are faster than ravens. We’ll be there in half the time.”

Y/N would usually speak up. Say no, it is an unnecessary risk. Rhaenyra considers this, hoping to meet her sister’s eye for insight. Y/N offers none, stonewalling her. Or maybe she cannot bear to look upon her.

“Very well,” Rhaenyra agrees. “Jacaerys will take Eyrie and Winterfell. Deliver our message, see if they will stand with us.”

“I shall fly with him, my Queen.” Geniysa offers.

“Geniysa-” Harwin shakes his head.

“I’ve received proposals from members of these houses. It is past time for me to marry, we shall kill two birds with one stone.” Geniysa points out.

“You’re prepared to make such a decision on your own?” Y/N frowns at her daughter.

“I will have Jacaerys,” Geniysa slaps her cousin once on the back.

“Indeed,” he agrees. “I will help guide her hand.”

Y/N bites out. “Let it be done, we shall await your safe return.”

Geniysa snaps her mouth shut, nodding curtly to her mother.

Harwin joins his wife, near the head of the table, brushing hair away from her ear to whisper. “Are you absolutely sure about this? Once a betrothal is set in place it, ending it would be frown upon.”

Y/N turns in to him, keeping her tone hushed. “She is a woman grown. Worse still, she is a child of yours and mine, incredibly stubborn. The move is hers to make.”

Harwin gives a tight nod of acknowledgment.

“Your devotion moves me, Princess.” Rhaenyra tells her niece. “It will not be forgotten.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Lucerys and Viserus should take to Storm’s End. It is a short flight from here.” Rhaenyra tells the younger boys. They have always done well together, this has not changed with the years.

“I will aid in his safe passage, my Queen.” Viserus tells her.

“And I his,” Luc looks to Y/N.

“I have no doubt. You’ll do us all proud.”

————————————🌱———————————-

The days drag on, leaving Aemond in a state of unease. He spars to soothe the frazzled bits of him that his wife cannot. Though Aemmia would put him out of his misery with her lips to his; whispering the sweetest of nothings as tender hands caress his face. His wedding gift to her bouncing about her neck before the sapphire finally clings to her sweat damp skin. However, fucking his frustrations into her would not allow a favorable place for their child to grow. Only love for you.

Aemond swings his sword toward his opponent, the clank of metal is familiar. Here he has complete control.

“Brother, I have returned with word from Dragon Stone.” Aegon interrupts.

The King huffs, tossing his weapon to the ground. His head aches, radiating out from the scar around his left eye socket. He drags the heel of his palm across the patch, willing it out of his mind. “Let’s hear it.”

“They’re assembling a battalion. Not to fight, unless it comes to that. Drawing up ‘fair’ terms for the lot of us. All of which will presumably including bending the knee to Rhaenyra.”

“Hmm.”

“We should also rally allies.” Aegon looks away, eyes scanning the grounds.

“What for?”

“You would bet your life and that of your child on their willingness to accept our surrender?”

“Rhaenyra would have no reason to harm us.”

“If it is Y/N’s word she follows.” Aegon points out. “Daemon is thirsty for blood and will stop at nothing to get it.”

“How would you advise me?” Aemond squares his shoulders.

“Houses Stark and Baratheon hold the north, both of whom swore oaths to Rhaenyra. Securing them would give us a leg up, should we need it.”

“You think it will come to that?”

“They are a house divided amongst themselves…and we know how well that works out.” Aegon stares down at the dirt.

“Very well.” Aemond agrees, “I will make the journey to Storm’s end.”

“Make haste, Aemond.” Aegon warns, “their troops will be upon us sooner rather than later.”

“What has brought about this sudden sense of urgency?” Aemond asks, it seems out of character.

“Rhaenyra lost the babe.”

“Gods be good.”

“Y/N,” Aegon breathes, “she is unhinged.”

“Yet she let you live.” Aemond points out.

“You did not see her eyes.” The eldest boy’s hands ball into fists. “She is on the precipice.”

————————————🌱———————————

“He asked for what?” Surely Y/N has heard Viserus wrong.

“Stark asked first for Geniysa, then for Rhaelys. I told him no, on both counts. They are not mine to offer.” Viserus repeats.

“Well done, son.” Harwin assures him.

“Well done?” Daemon scoffs, “he has lost us the North.”

“Instead, I offered my hand to Borros Baratheon’s daughters. The youngest is around my age, a bit older, but she seemed quite taken with our terms.” Viserus smirks, “we have the North, dear uncle.”

The older man huffs, squaring his shoulders.

“You can say you’re proud of me,” Viserus jests, “it’s alright.”

Daemon says nothing, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He claps the boy once on the back as he passes.

Jace and Geniysa return a while after with good news. Rhaenyra’s oath still stands amongst Eyrie and Winterfell.

The middle two Strong children exchange stories about their newly betrothed. Geniysa’s future husband, Arnold Arryn of Eyrie, is older by a handful. “He has his own personal vendetta against a cousin for stealing his place as heir. He believes women are too soft to lead.” Nevertheless, he is willing to reside with her on Dragon Stone or King’s Landing.

“No one better than you to change his mind, cousin.” Jacaerys offers.

Viserus is to wed Floris Baratheon, “she is quiet, but I hope she will warm up.”

Y/N and Harwin are invited to dine with the Queen and King Consort. Along with the Lord of the Tides, his lovely wife and their new found friend, Ser Lynis. But as the hour grows later, the Princess has no appetite.

Rhaelys hums happily in the mother’s lap as Y/N weaves a line of intricate patterns into her silver locks.

“Y/N,” a voice calls from the entryway of her chambers.

“Your grace.” Y/N responds, turning to see her sister. Tapping Rhaelys on the shoulder. “Go, love. Angette is waiting just outside for you.”

“Aunt Rhaenyra?” The little girl peers up at her.

“Yes, Rhaelys?”

The six year old frowns, tossing both arms around the woman’s waist. “I’m sorry about your baby.”

Rhaenyra passes a hand over the crown of her head, “me too, my sweet. Run along now, your supper will get cold.”

Rhaelys dashes out the door without any fuss.

“Ser Harwin informed me that you are unwell.” The Queen comes round, closing the space between she and her sister.

“I will see this through, Rhaenyra. You need not worry.”

“I do not worry for my hand, I worry for my sister.” Rhaenyra says, firmly. Taking a seat beside her on the foot stool, leaning her head against Y/N’s shoulder.

The older girl kisses the top of her sister’s head, resting her cheek there. “I will be better on the morrow.”

“Shall I sit with you a while?”

“Or,” Y/N begins, “we could sneak down to the kitchens.”

Rhaenyra draws back to look at her sister. “And eat cake?”

Y/N nods, fighting back a grin.

————————————🌱———————————-

“Aemmia,” Alicent rushes in to the sitting room.

“Alicent.”

“Word has come, the Velaryon fleet has taken to the seas. They will surround King’s Landing before the moon turns.” She warns.

“It is time then.” They all knew this was coming.

“I can only imagine the things your mother hath told you of me, but I do not wish her dead. Nor Rhaenyra.”

“My mother never spoke an ill word about you, Alicent.” Not to her anyway. “Whatever guilt you hold over things past is your own.”

“All I’ve done is to protect my children.”

“Why do you assume she would harm them?”

“That is what-”

“That’s what you would do.” Aemmia crosses both arms over her chest. “Luckily my mother is better than that.”

“I never meant for it to be this way. We had hoped that with you on the throne, the secession would be peaceful.” Alicent eyes the younger girl, warily.

“Supplanting Rhaenyra was never going to be peaceful. Not when my mother and late Grandsire, spent their lives preparing said throne for it’s rightful heir.” Aemmia turns away from her, staring out the window.

“Perhaps this was miscalculated,” Alicent catches her elbow, “but we thought it best for everyone involved.”

“We?”

“My father and I.”

Aemmia scoffs, “Otto has no love for my mother or Rhaenyra.”

“I do.” Alicent murmurs, half under her breath.

“Then agree to their terms. I’m sure they would accept your surrender and spare your life. Trust may take a while but it would come, eventually.”

“You’ve spent a great deal of time with Helaena as of late,” Alicent changes the subject. “I like to think the two of you could’ve been friends.”

“Helaena is my friend.” Aemmia pulls away from her. “We can still right this, for all of us, with no blood shed. We still have a chance.”

The ships arrive the next morning, just after the dragons. Vhagar, Sunfyre and Aranthi have all been freed from the pit, incase they should need them. Leaving only Helaena’s dragon, Dreamfyre, within, she is a small creature. Not suited for war.

“Do I sit or stand?” Aemmia paces anxiously before the throne. Her dress suddenly too tight, constricting her breath.

Aemond takes her hand. Holding her against his side, facing the throne room doors. “Be still.”

Their army stands behind them, more just outside, lying in wait.

Aemmia’s family does appear, with Rhaenyra at the forefront. She is not alone of course, her mother is there and her father. Daemon and their children at her side. The show of force that trails after them makes Aemmia’s stomach turn.

When they finally stand opposite each other no one speaks for a long while.

Finally it is Y/N to land the first blow. “We shall hear the terms of your surrender, in hopes they align with ours. But first I shall have my daughter, and my sister shall have her throne.”

“Go,” Aemond nods, “go to your mother, love.”

Aemmia squeezes his fingers then drops them, prepared to close the gap between their two families. Before her foot touches the first step down, Otto Hightower has his dagger drawn and at her throat.

“Hold,” Rhaenyra puts an arm out, hearing the shuffle of armor behind her.

“Drop your weapons.” Otto demands, watching the enemy do so. “On your knees.”

Only Daemon fights it.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra warns, “do it, now.”

The man rolls his eyes, kneeling beside his wife. “I am growing too old for such things.”

Otto presses the blade a bit more firmly against Aemmia’s neck, tiny beads of scarlet pooling around the edge. “Here you stand, largest army in Westeros at your heels, come to take what is yours. All you’ve fought for, all you’ve bled for and yearned for; yet you cannot seize it. Instead you drop like flies to your knees. Love is your downfall. Love stays the hand.”

“Grandsire, this is not my wish.” Aemond cuts in. “She is your Queen, to harm her would be the highest of treasons.”

“In a matter of minutes her reign will end, as will yours. Your very lives will be forfeit. Is that your wish Aemond?”

“She is with child.” Aemond informs him, “my child. I wish to see her bear it, mend our houses. As my father so willed it.”

“Your father was so blind to the affairs of your family that he allowed you to be maimed. All in the name of Rhaenyra and her bastards. Sired by the same man as the whore who hath wrought these delusions upon you. Viserys did not defend you. I did! Your mother did!” Otto shouts.

He and Otto move in unison. Aemond is fast to draw his sword, using the blade of it to impale his Grandsire and drive him forward.

“Say what you will, but she has my loyalty.” Aemond seethes. I love her.

Otto’s blood soaked dagger falls to the ground. Aemmia stumbles away with a hand to her throat. Blood oozing out between her fingers, down her wrist and forearm to her elbow.

Alicent is the one to break her fall, moving the girl so that she is cradled against her on the floor. “We must have the Maester!”

Rhaenyra’s army prepares to pounce. “Stay your hand,” the Queen commands.

Aemmia’s parents rush past Otto and Aemond to their daughter.

“There you are,” Otto sputters out as Rhaenyra comes into view. “Come to sit upon your beloved throne.”

She ignores him, headed for her niece instead. Crowding around the girl like everyone else.

“Mama,” Aemmia whispers, her head is light; floating above her body.

“I’m here,” Y/N gentles her. “I’m here.”

“Papa.”

“Yes, sweetheart, all accounted for.” Harwin, pushes a bit of hair from her face. “Let me see,” he pries her fingers away from the wound. Aemmia’s head resting in Alicent’s lap. It is deep, but doesn’t appear to have hit a vein. She will live if they act quickly to seal it. Blood loss will be their worst enemy. “Not too bad, hmm?” Harwin applies firm pressure with his own hand as they wait for the maester. “Just a scratch.”

Y/N holds her daughter’s hand. Unable or willing to focus on anything else.

“For the love of the gods, let us heat up a blade and seal it. I’ve seen this a thousand times in battle.” Daemon says, feigning indifference, though clearly worried as the rest.

“I will do it.” Laenor sprints over to the corner torch lamp. Holding his knife to the flame until it burns red hot.

“Move her hair away.”

“Hold her steady, we want the edges to be clean.”

Everything moves out of time, the smell of charring flesh, the sound of Aemmia’s scream. A collective lurch of bodies, crying out in warning. Y/N turns her head just in time to see Criston Cole charging her way. Sword drawn.

The princess does not move, frozen as lords and knights alike rush to her defense. But they are too late. The sound of metal against metal startles Y/N more than the impact she braced for.

“You dare attack my sister while her back is turned?” Aegon seethes, deadlocked with Ser Criston.

“They cannot take the throne, my Prince. I will die defending your honor.” The man who helped raise him replies. Pushing back against Aegon’s hand.

“I will not kill you, Cole. You have been dear to me, but you mustn’t harm my family.” Aegon says, cooly. “Guards, remove Ser Criston and place him under lock and key.”

Perhaps they are not too far gone. Perhaps they will save each other.

Part IX

Taglist @evyiione @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic@leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306 @giulia2372 @stargaryenx @rxscpctals

#the queens hand #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenrya targaryen #rhaenyra fanfic #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin x reader #ser harwin strong #laenor valeryon #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #ser criston cole #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #harwin strong imagine #princess rhaenyra

377 notes · View notes