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kenjakusbrainstem · 9 months

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Shall I Save You? (Kenjaku x Mahito)

Next Chapter: Trust.

The next to last prompt for Mahito Month, Fix-It! So I figured I would try and change every Mahito fans least favorite moment, Kenjaku swallowing him. I'm really proud of this so I hope it doesn't feel ooc, I kind of played with Kenjaku's abilities as he is very much my favorite canvas to paint. Let me know if you like, as I may post a part two! Reblogs & comment if you want, cross-posted to Ao3 and shared to twitter as kenjakusbrain.

Mahito’s mind was racing. He could feel himself growing weaker with every step he took away from the monster that Yuuji Itadoti had become. Though he was the one who insisted they were the same, the last thing he had expected was to become cornered like this. Running for his life, full of the very fear he loved to strike in humans.

His run was a fumbling one, the only thing keeping Mahito from tripping was the thought that maybe he could escape, if he could just find something…

Mahito’s heart jumped in his chest as he sensed the one person in the whole of Shibuya who could possibly help him. Through the blood running down his face he could hardly see ahead clearly. It was impossible to mistake the strange, jumbled soul in front of him though. Geto, he was here. Relief flooded Mahito’s body at the mere thought of getting out of this mess.

In that moment, he realized the bond that he shared with Geto, the reliance and relief he felt for the man. He truly was the same as Yuuji Itadori, putting all of his faith, his own life, in the hands of another person. Mahito should have felt disgust for the rush of emotion inside of him but the overwhelming thought of someone being here to save him won.

“Geto!” Mahito yelled, running toward the man. It was all he could muster at the moment as he tripped, landing directly in front of Geto. Looking up, Mahito couldn't quite make out the look on Geto’s face. It was a strange one, he looked excited, almost proud. As if all of this had worked out exactly as he wanted it to and he was relishing in the moment.

Mahito shook his head as he knelt on the ground, having so suddenly come to terms with the humanity of the emotions inside him he couldn’t let himself believe that Geto wanted to see him like this. Or that Geto had somehow planned for him to end up on the receiving end of the destructive force that was Yuuji Itadori.

“Shall I save you, Mahito?” the condescending words dripped smoothly from Geto’s lips as he continued to stare down at the curse. Mahito’s nature as a curse screamed inside of him to deny the assistance of a human, to just die here. However the one thing inside of Mahito that was stronger than his pride in being a curse, was his sense of self preservation.

Mahito had never felt more at a loss for words in his entire existence, he could feel Itadori’s presence behind him, waiting to see what this new person would bring into the fold. He may be enraged at the moment, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Reaching out his hand, Mahito silently pleaded with Geto to help him up, to save him in any way. Mahito knew that there was something Geto had been keeping from him in regards to his technique, he was a special grade curse user after all. There had to be some way he could help Mahito at a time like this. In the back of Mahito’s mind he wondered briefly if Geto would even want to save him, he had failed after all.

The trust that Mahito had in Geto ran deeper than that, his strangely human feelings for the man after everything he’d taught or shown the juvenile curse boiled inside him. Geto would save him, Geto cared for him. He could be useful to Geto, even if that use was an experiment to be researched. All of these things Mahito wanted to say, to beg for his own life, but nothing came out of his panting lips.

Geto extended a hand down toward the curse, not quite far enough to reach his own. Mahito scrambled to move closer but froze when he felt something within himself being pulled toward the curse user. It felt indescribably painful, as if he were being unmade. Panic filled him again alongside desperation.

“Please, I'll do anything!” Mahito begged, a choked cry leaving his throat at a last attempt to persuade the man he trusted.

As quickly as the pain started, it stopped. Geto’s once open hand was now a tight fist. Mahito could see the force with which he held his palm shut by the bulging veins through the skin.

For the first time in the entirety of the time Mahito had known Geto, he could see visible confusion on the man’s face. As if he had made a split decision without even realizing he had made it. As quickly as it appeared though, the doubt on Geto’s face was replaced with determination. Things had changed in a matter of seconds as Geto’s hand wrapped around Mahito’s wrist and he pulled the curse to his feet.

Immediately Geto pushed Mahito behind himself, shielding him with his own body. The curse stumbled as he was moved but steadied himself by holding onto part of Geto’s clothing, not unlike a toddler would hold onto a parent’s pant leg.

Mahito felt Geto’s hands leave him at the same time that he felt a large crash before them, peeking over Geto’s shoulder he was able to see an impossibly deep hole in the ground where Itadori had stood previously. Was this Geto’s doing?

“Mahito, you’ve grown so strong, I need you to do something for me. Remember the talisman we used to help you detect Sukuna’s finger? Spread out your idle transfiguration into the earth and touch everything you detect with that energy. I will get you back to full strength. If you can’t do that for me, I’m afraid this will be it for us,” Geto spoke slowly. He hadn’t turned to face Mahito but the curse could feel the weight of Geto’s request upon his shoulders.

He would do anything. Mahito knew that he had reached a level of strength that he previously thought was impossible, so he felt confident that he could do what Geto was asking of him. Geto trusted him, it was a feeling Mahito hadn’t known he wanted. Some part of him, that was more human than curse, was rejoicing inside him at the surprising turn of events.

Mahito didn’t speak, he could still taste his own blood in his throat. He simply nodded against Geto’s back frantically, trying to make sure the man understood that he would do anything he needed. He was now indebted to Geto, not that debts meant much to curses, but Mahito definitely understood what it meant to owe someone for saving your life.

“Good, hold still while I rejuvenate your energy, I’ve never tried this on a curse before,” Geto said, as he focused his energy into something similar to reversed curse technique. Putting a hand behind his back and onto Mahito’s side he flooded the curse with his own energy. Mahito felt like water was pouring over his soul, bathing his very being in the essence of Geto’s energy. It felt cleansing and like torture at the same time somehow, like there wasn’t enough air to breath and standing in the suns warm light all at once.

Through the mesmerizing feeling of having his energy restored, Mahito registered that Geto was talking. It wasn’t to him though, he could also hear the voice of Yuuji Itadori somewhere in front of them.

Suddenly the conversation stopped and Mahito felt Geto’s hand around him tighten, before he knew it they were moving together. Another crash from where they were just standing followed by Geto mentioning something about the usage of bullets against sorcerers. With his head buried in Geto’s back it was hard for him to understand exactly what was going on.

The flow of energy into Mahito’s body slowed, leaving the curse feeling half replenished as he stood there. Dizziness from the sudden lack of energy caused him to lean more onto Geto’s body, which turned out to help as Geto whirled the two of them around, the feeling of a simple domain around them almost alarmed the curse. But before he knew it the feeling was gone, replaced by something more sinister.

“Maximum Uzumaki,” Geto said, his arms spread in reverence as Mahito felt the power coursing from the man he hid behind. Above them was a maelstrom of curses, twisting into a devastatingly powerful attack that landed somewhere in front of them. Mahito could only imagine being struck by it. He was awestruck, the strength that Geto had kept hidden from him, from all the curses, was astonishing. Had they known Geto was capable of this, Mahito wasn’t sure what it could have changed, but he did know that this surprise changed the way he saw the man.

After the attack landed Mahito felt the slow trickle of energy resume as Geto had stopped outwardly attacking with cursed energy. It wouldn’t take much longer until he would be back at full strength. Mahito tried to pay attention to what was happening around them as he regained his strength, but it was hard to follow when he wasn’t looking at those around them. It seemed they were surrounded by sorcerers, and yet Geto seemed to be unwavering in his confidence.

The main part of the conversation Mahito managed to grasp onto was that ‘Geto,’ wasn’t exactly Geto. He also went by the name Norotoshi Kamo, which sounded oddly like one of the students he had heard the name of from Hanami while he was breaking into the school. It seemed there was a lot more to the man he had been working with than he had been previously aware of. Intrigued, Mahito couldn’t wait to talk to him about it later.

He hoped the man would trust him enough to share the truth, as he had trusted Geto with his life.

Mahito was brought out of his thoughts by Geto suddenly moving him back around and out from behind his back, as if the curse were some secret weapon he’d kept hidden. Flexing his fingers, Mahito realized he was back at full strength, but before he could do as he pleased and go off to fight Yuuji Itadori, he felt Geto’s hand grip his shoulder tightly. Like some sort of tether between the two of them, the message was clear.

Dropping to the ground, and out of Geto’s grip, Mahito pressed both palms to the ground. He focused reaching his energy out as far as he could spread it, searching for the markers Geto had mentioned. There were so many of them, more than he could have ever imagined. As he used his technique he felt something in each of them change. For once Mahito had no idea what the use of his technique would do, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Come, Mahito,” Geto spoke, many curses around them prevented any of the sorcerers from approaching. This was their chance to escape. “Goodbye Yuuji Itadori, I expect much from you.”

#jjk #getomahi #kenjaku #mahito #shibuya arc #mahito month #jjk fix it #jujutsu kaisen

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travelling-on-the-octopath · 2 years

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Thoughts on GW and Finally Answering Route-Specific Asks.

This post is quite long, mostly because the asks themselves are long, and I want to fully address them. I was an idiot and didn't answer them sequentially, but if you see answers that are shorter than others: certain asks overlapped in terms of content/my response to them, and I wasn't keen on saying the same thing over and over again lgkdjg. Anyway, onward!

Thoughts

Though I can't claim to understand what the fuck was going on in this writing room, it's pretty easy to guess: They needed a Claude who sought as much conflict as possible, and they weren't willing to put in the legwork to flesh out Almyra into a full-on conflict. Maybe that's because keeping Almyra centre stage would also keep the Alliance army pinned in two places: Myrddin, to fend off Imperial forces, and the Throat. Dimitri kinda speaks to that, seeing as before he goes about sweeping the western Empire on his way to Enbarr, he was zipping between Fhirdiad and the western front for a time. But with Dimitri, at the very least, they had the decency to leave his character as a whole well enough alone. Someone said this to me once, and I haven't forgotten it: A good character can carry just about anything, story-wise. People enjoy content about people, and good characters are that. The problem arises when you sacrifice character for plot, let alone a contrived one, and this route was honestly the perfect example of that.

My other grievances with the route are pretty easily summed up in answering the asks, but this is essentially the crux of it all: Claude says over and over that what he wants is peace, but he does everything to contradict that, and the route doesn't treat that dissonance with the severity it deserves. I'm told I'm doing the right thing for the sake of Fodlan's future, but when you think about it for two seconds--less than that--it falls apart like wet tissue paper, because Claude leaves Fodlan far worse off than when it began. It sucks that it's been "officially" chalked up to the lack of Byleth, but even if that were true, Claude still comes across as a right idiot because of his inability to look at his actions and understand their potential, and eventually realized, consequences.

Asks

I wonder if they were trying to make claude killing his brother his turning point to being the worst version of himself Cause hes like "that look of desperation on his face tugged on my heartstrings is all. i thought a guy like me would be impervious to this kind of thing. Looks like I didn't know myself as well as I thought. but now that I know I won't make the same mistake again" Is he hardening himself to death? Is this how he becomes so much more ruthless ? He's still mad OOC but i assume this is what the writers were trying to do ? After this he takes the Throne and makes an alliance with edeIgard. Forming an alliance with the war mongering imperalist was the official sign hes become the villain. And... It's still abrupt and makes no sense lmao

I can honestly, comfortably say that this was either not the intention, and just meant to dish out some pain to Claude, or WAS the intention, and executed maddeningly poorly. I let Judith die in GW, just for the sake of playing the route without all the fancy workarounds trying to get a teamup, and that caused him a great deal more visible/noticeable stress than Shahid's death, yet both end up with the same result: Claude does a Stupid Thing, his friends are like "Why are you doing this stupid thing?? Can you PLEASE let us help you?", Claude says yes, proceeds to do another stupid thing, and pretty soon after the stupid things are treated like completely normal things (e.g., invading Faerghus to get Dimitri to fork over Rhea.) His schemes are framed more as an issue stemming from his lack of reliance on others rather than a devolving of his ability to tell right from wrong, likely stemming from the fact that his character as a base in this game was just fucked from the word go.

I’m convinced that they wrote Claude the way they because him and Dimitri working together makes too much damn sense. In Houses Dimitri had to die and Claude had to be written out of the story. Yet, they still tease us by giving them moments that show they still get along great no matter the timeline/AU. I ship Dimiclaude too so this hurts me even more.

No but you're right, anon. Every bit of conflict between them in Houses had to stem from either miscommunication, meddling, or straight-up death/disappearance. AG hammers home that a partnership between the Alliance and Kingdom is not only completely feasible, but in everyone's best interest; Faerghus has the military prowess Leicester lacks (confirmed in Hopes), and the Alliance can provide rations/crops the Kingdom can't grow themselves. The friction between their nations here is the result of shoddy writing, and honestly nothing more. Azure Gleam had them at their best (and frankly most canon-compliant), and everything else had Claude down his throat because . . .

Because.

i don't know how to say this in a nice way, but it feels kind of... off-putting, to see count gloucester being portrayed as such a caring guy for his son and his people and the alliance and it's claude that's the no good very bad one. when 3h very clearly had the opposite be true. 3h says count gloucester murdered claude's uncle for power - hopes says nah he totally didn't do that (in lorenz's/ignatz's/raphael's paralogue - no guys it was someone else in house gloucester who did that, we swear!). 3h says gloucester didn't care for lorenz's say in things - hopes says he totally sees the error of his ways and apologizes for it (or close to an apology). 3h has him allow raphael's parents to be killed as collateral damage in killing claude's uncle - hopes says that he'd never ever sacrifice his own people and any leader who would (like claude) isn't fit to rule (and again, he didn't get raphael's parents killed anyway according to hopes). gloucester cares so much for the livelihoods of the people under his care and it's claude who's willing to sacrifice his own people if it gets him what he wants. gloucester would hand over his power to someone else if he thought it right, unlike claude who hogs all the power for himself to bulldoze over everyone. and then gloucester is basically proven right in anything he's ever said about claude ever in hopes. i dunno, am i the only one that's like... uncomfortable? with that direction hopes took? not accusing the creators of anything, i doubt they were being actively malicious. it's more that the writing is a bit... unintentionally loaded, i guess.

I would say most of this is more than fair to point out, but I don't think Lorenz's drive/conviction that the nobility lives in service of the people comes from nowhere; I was always under the impression that he got that from his father, who had that one quality going for him, but who was otherwise kind of a snake lol, and one who maybe didn't follow through on the lessons he imparted to Lorenz. Claude calls Lorenz a fox, Lorenz admires his father/emulates certain behaviours without wanting to walk his exact path, etc etc. That being said . . . You're on to something, I find, in saying that when they made Claude Do What He Did, it was kind of an opportunity to do a soft retcon on Erwin and make him a little . . . kinder? And sort of letting him off the hook for Raphael's parents dlgkjdfg (though i was under the assumption they were blaming a TWSITD agent, rather than someone else from House Gloucester). But I think it's important here that Claude's route isn't supposed to portray him as the no-good-very-bad one, despite what we know to be true. His route has a shit ending, don't get me wrong, but they all have unresolved endings, and frankly none of them looks much happier than the other. Claude has the support of his friends, and is no longer contested by them despite having gone right off the deep end; as a result, he meets no consequences, doubly so if you manage to spare Judith.

So Claude sides with Dimitri in AG but EdeIgard in SB/GW, is the flip flopping ever explained

In an official capacity? No. But it's an easy conclusion to come to, I've found: Claude doesn't do conflict. He's best suited as only an ally in this sort of game, because it leaves violence as an option several items down the list for him, rather than the go-to. That, at least, answers the conundrum of Azure Gleam; the remaining unknown is whether Claude's route was then shaped to an alliance with Her Majesty because Scarlet Blaze was written first (though I find that hard to believe, seeing as these routes already take no shame in diverging), or whether they had him ally with her in his route from the get-go, and then decided it would be cool if that remained the same on SB only to result in a backstabbing.

The further I got into Golden Wildfire the more it just felt like that route was a second thought. “Ok now we have the pro-church route with the kingdom and the alliance aids them” - “Yes and we have the anti-church route with the empire and Claude aids them but may betray you” - “Perfect but wasn’t there like a third route?” - “Yeah…I mean just make him an absolute ruler like a king or something and redo the empire one, in his profile you can see that he dislikes blind fate in gods so this will definitely make sense” - “Alright but we already had this story started with Almyra-“ - “Nah the empire one will do” Like why did the golden deer have to get the short end of the stick AGAIN?? Couldn’t we have just chosen who to ally with at least. But yeah the bandits mission in chapter 13 just proved to me that they just needed to get a third route somehow done Sorry for my rant but when I saw your post about chapter 13 it reminded me how….sadly unnecessary the Golden Wildfire Route feels

Never apologize for ranting, because I know I've done my fair share of it, and this route really does bring that out in a person.

I think what's a little sad is that Claude's decision to streamline decision-making for the sake of the Alliance during war stems from a place of wanting to protect it, and I've already said that I don't inherently mind the decision place someone at the head of it all; my problem is that he suddenly seems to resent the old method of the Alliance entirely, and it's like the story warped to suit him in that pushback feels hollow and he can't be wrong in any meaningful capacity.

Almyra was so wasted, and the way they DID use it (his brother's death) manages to become less important narratively than Judith's and, CONFOUNDINGLY, Randolph's. I'm so mad they wasted it.

I guess if you want dimitri-claude teamup, go for standard AG; if you want dimitri-edeIgard, minimal as that is, go for alternate AG; if you want edeIgard-claude, go for GW.

“We do not care where the Federation places its faith, so long as it is not with the Central Church.” Is sleazy. Gustave understands (go AG writing team!) removing the church removes the institution that teaches the faith. They aren’t inseparable. If the central church falls they really would rely on EdeIgard’s toady bishop. HOLST KNEW THAT AND STILL WENT ALONG WITH IT WTF

Holst got shafted as all fuck honestly, though what Deer didn't. Everyone stops pushing against Claude after a certain points despite his plots getting worse. They got really close to a full-blown confrontation/severe consequences for Claude on this route and chickened out, so it doesn't surprise me that Holst sort of talks out of both sides of his mouth.

I think that the main issues with Hopes Claude - Clopes, if you will - are his unfounded accusations against the Church (like, the SPECIFIC GRIEVANCES he has with them, not disliking it by itself), his willingness to side the Gardy, and the whole Sreng thing. Claude doesn’t care about Crests in that he doesn't blame them for everything - especially not for things that are literally completely unproven (marriages?? Bro what??). Claude isn't afraid to take up the duties and responsibilities his title - whether duke or king - call for. The closest thing Hopes gets "right" is his belief the Church causes isolationism... which Clopes has far less reason to believe, given his lack of time in the Church to expose him to the one branch that actually IS racist (Western) and given his more direct experience dealing with Almyra's invasions. Which would explain why Fodlan isn't keen on foreigners FAR better than the literal nonexistant isolationist preachings of specifically Rhea. Claude wouldn't join Gardy, as shown in CF - same conditions as GW, Gardy is showing that she's the winning side, she's invaded the Alliance, except NOW she actually WON against him AND has Byleth on her side. Still doesn't join her! Doesn't even give her Failnaught! But Clopes, who managed to beat back the Empire with just Alliance troops, and who literally just had Gardy lie to his face about not invading him, would suddenly join her? And believe her on her word about the Church being bad? Nope, don't buy it. Claude wouldn't do That with Sreng. Not up for debate. No explanation needed. The people who claim otherwise are deadass wrong, like objectively. No two ways about it, no nice way to say it. I've seen at least two different direction GW could have gone to showcase Claude "being darker" without assassinating his character as thoroughly as these three instances do. (Also, though, on that front: 3H fandom stop equating deadass evil actions as "morally gray" just because YOU like are committing them, Clopes pulling that shit with Sreng is about as gray as INK)

I've been missing out on calling him Clopes actually dglkdfjg what a fucking name, thank you anon.

There's practically zero chance that Claude managed to learn of Ingrid's marriage proposals in the time they were at Garreg Mach, so I have no idea where that comes from, and Dorothea pursues marriage completely independent of Crests; she just wants to live comfortably. And that's just one of his claims. What he says in that support is fuckingggdfgkjdlgj i don't even know where to begin. WHERE does he get this from. Have this post from the gigabrain of all Claude enjoyers as to why his gripes make literally no fuckin sense. I really, really don't like to say "well if you don't like this thing then clearly you didn't understand it!!!!!!" because that's so fucking pretentious, and often untrue, but . . . but . . . WELL . . .

The Golden Deer: *collectively shits on Acheron for being an opportunistic weathervane* Claude: *acts like an opportunistic weathervane* The Golden Deer: *at most give him a bit of a scolding before immediately following suite anyway* Game: *obviously does not realize this blatant hypocrisy* SIIIIIIIIGH GAME... You can't have Claude acting like a shitty slimy scumbag in a way that's LITERALLY JUST LIKE a gimmick character written to be clowned on for how hilariously evil they are, do absolutely nothing with that narratively speaking, not explain how or why Claude would act like this, and expect me to accept that just because you're pushing a "b-b-b-but this is how he is without By/leth!!" excuse. It's bad writing. You did a bad writing. Bad game, bad.

But anon, how could you possibly compare dear, sweet Claude to Acheron! :( /s

No, but seriously, it's actually kind of funny. Like how do you write this and remain utterly lacking in self-awareness as to WHAT you're writing fdlgjdfkg

Am I the only one that's like... kinda weirded out by how some in the fandom are reducing FEWTH!Claude's actions as "mistakes"? Because like... that's such a weasely way of phrasing exactly what he does in GW. It makes it sounds like the people who have a grievance with his actions are only mad because, like, he's not flawless and perfect or something like that when that's not the issue here at all. He deliberately worsened the conflict between the two countries to further his own gain. He deliberately invaded the Kingdom and put its people in danger. That should be described in a way that people can actually know what FEWTH!Claude did. I'm probably reading too much into it but it's just kinda annoying if nothing else to see all the horrible shit FEWTH!Claude does be muddied down just simple "mistakes" :/

The problem with that, anon, is that it's not some random fan take. The game frames it that way too, honestly, at least from the standpoint of his allies. It just doesn't care enough to make this the tragedy it is, because I don't think that would have sold nearly as well. It's better to try a half-assed attempt at making a sympathetic/loved character do an oopsie daisy, because it's far less likely to leave a bad taste in the mouth of the player. It's not the only route with this problem, in either game, even though a hack n slash would be a sort of interesting platform to try out a violent, uncaring power fantasy. What's sad to me, though, is that people who have the ability to look at all the facts available are still choosing to treat this as a series of mistakes, and treating this as some sort of fleshing-out of Claude. Of course, people are entitled to feel and think what they want; that's the whole point. But I would be lying if I said I trusted their judgement of Claude's character.

Claude mentions the Central Church's isolationist doctrines that motivate him to kill Rhea, but like, those... don't exist? Those only exist in the Western Church, which is always in revolt with the Central one because of how open Rhea is. And with the knowledge of Judith being a deeply devout believer, her backing Claude up immediately in VW once he shows that he went to Almyra for help would imply that she wouldn't have shown any real care about outsiders to him during the year he was in Fodlan before he came to the academy. So it's not like he got any evidence of "isolationist doctrine" from her - the one person he'd really be able to draw any conclusion about the church from, given his lack of time in Garreg Mach in Hopes. And given that he'd fought back against two extremely large invasions from Almyra in his own route, it makes way more sense to think that the main contributor of many Fodlan people's distrust/hatred of outsiders comes from... the constant invasions? That Fodlan (at least with Almyra) does literally nothing to provoke? And not anything from the Central Church? (tho to be clear that doesn't justify their distrust/hatred, strictly explains it) Like, honestly speaking, the isolationist part of Claude's distrust towards the Church never really made much sense given that he can support with Shamir and Cyril - two direct pieces of evidence that suggests Rhea doesn't give a shit if you're a foreigner - but in 3H he at least had experience with the Western Church, the actually xenophobic branch of the Church, and so some misunderstanding in his head could theoretically happen to have him attribute their flaws broadly across the board. And he nonetheless tries to hear Rhea's side of things because he still wants to know shit. But Hopes never gives a reasoning to him believing that about the Church, takes away the one possible explanation 3H gave, and stripped him of giving any shits about knowing anything. And people like this? lmao

The writers wanted conflict without putting in the legwork to make it make sense; in fact, they shot themselves in the foot so fucking hard, because I can't remember Judith ever being pious in Houses, but she is in this game. My theory as to the reason for the addition is that they needed some sort of sign off on Claude's crusade against the Central Church, and having the combined support of Marianne and Judith kinda did that; after all, if two endlessly devout people support his destruction of the church, it can't be that bad, can it? I don't have much more to add to this that I haven't said already regarding Claude's writing and the need for conflict, so I can only offer you a pat on the back anon, because these are trying times for us all.

{edit: adding this one in:

That video of Dimitri saying Claude keeps chasing him and Claude saying he should stop running…I thought if all the context was ignored (lol) it could be good DimiClaude content but then five seconds later Claude said it was Dimitri’s fault for putting himself in that situation as if Claude isn’t working with the warmongering imperialist like ok

yeah claude's basically the king of all assholes here I don't know what's going on with him <///3}

And that's that on that! I don't think I'll be making any more original posts commenting on GW specifically because I've said all i need to say, but I'll answer asks if they come. To all the anons who sent these and were going through it, I offer you comfort in the form of virtual baked goods and warm blankets.

#s responds #s puts out a wildfire #anonymous metropolis #fewth spoilers #fire emblem warriors: three hopes spoilers #fe #fe3h (the remix)

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nymphl · 4 years

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Lie to Me - Hux x Reader x Ch. 15: Reliance & Mistrust

A/N: Hello there xD Well, this time I’m ahead of schedule. I’ll see if I can keep the updates here thrice a week. I think it’s best to update what’s already written at once here, before I get caught up with my schedule and other real-life things and all. So here we go xD

Story Summary: Falling for the enemy… That’s probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Letting him live… for he should be dead. And you should’ve been the one to kill him. You had him, right there… and you let it escape through yours fingers. He lived. And now only the time could tell if you made the right decision — more likely wrong — by saving the amnesiac General of the First Order and telling him he was your husband. [Hux x Reader - Hux x You]

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: from enemies to lovers; eventual romance; memory loss; fake marriage; fake marriage becomes real marriage; rebellion; married couple; canon divergence; slow burn romance; politics; rebel alliance; resistance; first order; OOCness; eventual smut; eventual sex; power play; power dynamics; syndicate; lies; you lie; Hux lies; Hux backstory; manipulation; political alliances; political betrayals; secret organizations; tros fix it; anti tros; nobody likes general pryde.

Wordcount: 5747

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT CHAPTER

YOU HATED IT.

And you should hate him…

…for his cryptic…

…cold…

…unfeeling…

…kriffing …

Behavior.

Instead, you hated yourself.

You hated that it hurt.

That you let him hurt you…

…emotionally and physically…

With the pain came the anger…

…strong…

…fervent…

…unstoppable…

However, your mind worked differently when you were furious. You became much more reclusive. Focused. As you were right now. Instead of lashing out, you did take greater care with everything you did.

Tightened your hold on the blaster, you did your best to control a pained hiss. Your arms seemed on verge of falling off as you waited for him to finally tell you to stop. To be in this kriffing position for so long, waiting for his instruction, was torture. And he knew it. Otherwise he would not have you going through the same simulation so many times. As you managed to get through the next phase of the staged attack, he would set you up for another round, till you were almost begging him for mercy.

As if you could…

Outside bedroom affairs — which, you thought would not happen anytime soon —, the General hated when you begged. And you did not want to be seen as weak. Even if it would render you another lecture on not showing your weakness unless out of necessity — you wondered if that would be the way to get him to talk to you again.

Honestly, he was talking to you. But only what was necessary. Your husband was gone. In his place, only a General was left — and this General could be harsh when he wanted.

Your worst nightmare.

Biting your bottom lip forcefully, you held the blaster firmly between your hands and waited for the targets — Imperial Troopers — to leave their hideout before you could fire. This time, however, there was something different. One of them — one of the targets — was hurt. You knew it was not true — apart from being a make-believe situation, the targets were not even real beings —, but even so, you lowered your arms.

“How did you manage to get us here?” You breathed out in your speaker device. Apart from the VR glasses, you had your earmuffs firmly in place. The glasses set up the parallel reality and the earmuffs kept the outside sounds at bay.

The Crystal Cave indeed had training facilities that were more than adequate in your opinion. This was different from any simulation room you had seen before; instead of a practice field in which teams worked together towards some goal, you were alone and unmoving. The targets came to you and you had to shoot them before they could reach you in your own hideout. If your avatar got hurt, it would be the end for you. Luckily, you managed to escape their blasters twice now.

As expected, he did not answer your question. He seemed very focused on the targets ahead — even if he did not participate in your training, he had no avatar for himself, he too could see whatever you saw through your glasses. It was all it took for you to take a deep breath and let your attention slip somewhere else.

Even if he was a jerk, you felt safe with him.

It is… you did not let your mind drift to the last time in which he had his hand wrapped around your throat…

You were very tired; physically and mentally exhausted — every single person you knew worked overtime. The new disease in Dantooine continued keep you — and your peers — on edge. In no time, the number of alien dead would surpass the number of those who died in the last few days; even the most talented physicians in the planet were worried. So far, in pediatrics almost ten alien kids had died — in your shift. You had no idea if you could trust the data provided by those in charge. And as much as you understood they were merely trying to prevent some sort of collective hysteria, at least you and your coworkers were entitled to know. Everything you had found out was your own doing.

Shaking your head, you tried to focus your attention on your surroundings. You knew this place — this part of the cave. You had been there once with Aurra Sing before, when you were in your late teens. If your husband — the General, you quickly corrected yourself, there was no need to keep indulging your thoughts of that lie; he had figured out everything — thought it was adequate at best, it was because the First Order was… otherworldly.

A shudder ran down your spine.

He was fine now — more than fine, if you were to be honest, his physical condition was flawless —, so why would he still linger? Why not go back to the First Order?

Honestly, you were not sure if you could trust him.

His negative answer when you questioned him about you being a bait to attract and defeat — that was important — the Resistance had you relieved.

Now…

…now you were not so sure.

“Fire.”

His voice, so detached and whispered through the speaker device, had you shivering. He was right behind you, quite but not touching. The last week living in the Cave he barely got within an arm of distance from you — always distant, always in his own mind. Having him this close now was… almost weird. Even when you trained — and for the maker, he made sure you trained hard every day and he could be as intense in your training as he was in your bed; your ardent lover had vanished, in its place, there was the business-like General — he would keep his distance. The last time in which you were in his arms, you were crying and asking how you could trust him, only to get a vague answer.

It was difficult to trust him — or get even near to it — when he barely interacted with you. How could he expect you to follow your krifing instincts when he barely looked at you? When all you had were a huge pile of doubts that only got bigger? When he was vague in his answers? For whenever he answered one of your questions you had another ten springing in your mind.

You snapped your attention back to the targets, but nothing seemed to have changed in their previous stance. You furrowed your brows, but he paid you no attention.

“Now,” he spoke again, this time his voice was firmer than before.

You had no reason to shoot when they were not moving — they were not attacking — and seemed to be paying some sort of medical care to one of theirs. Your moral convictions prevented you from attacking any hurt being — real or not, enemy or otherwise. The General was the living proof of that. It was simply beneath you and everything your father — your mother and Aquilla — stood for. However, you quickly realized your mistake as one of them — who was previously stretched out on the floor and apparently hurt — rose to his feet and opened his hand. A grenade lay in it, ready to be launched.

Without waiting for your move — you sincerely did not expect such plot twist —, the General opened fire against them — his avatar flashing before your peripheral vision —, knocking out all four targets quicker than your eyes could follow.

Next, he pressed a button at your left, shutting down the transmission before the grenade could go off. Your glasses darkened, forcing you to remove them. As you were greeted by the strong light in the simulation room, you had to blink a few times to get used to the new sight before your eyes. Honestly, you did not know which was worse: the light or the General’s judging eyes.

Not really ready for the reprimand of your life, you took your time to remove the earmuffs, letting them rest around your neck.

“I am sorry?” you tried, unsure on what to say. Besides, what could have you done? You certainly did not expect the targets to fake a situation — in a simulation! — just to attack you shortly after. Your first instinct was to always believe a hurt person — how else could you save lives if you did not believe your patients in the first place? You knew they did not qualify as such, but your point was still valid.

At least it seemed in your mind.

“Your naivety almost got you killed.”

You pursed your lips into a thin line. You expected him to call your action one of compassion, not ingenuousness — and honestly you did not know which was worse in his eyes. You even opened your mouth to say it was only a make-believe situation, but you figured out it would do you no good. Apologizing would not do, as it would be seen as another act of weakness in his eyes.

“Who runs this part of the Cave?”

The General narrowed his eyes at you; he certainly did not see that question coming. With his hands entwined at his back, in what you called his General posture, he walked away from you; his shoulders set straight.

“I do.”

You furrowed your brows. It simply made no sense. No one in their right mind would simply abandon this place, only for the General to take it under his control, that much you were sure. And only one person crossed your thoughts at the moment: Aurra — and her precious Syndicate, of course.

“Aurra Sing gave up this place for me. In its entirety.”

At least you were sure of the first part; the second made no sense whatsoever. You did not know the details of their partnership, but you were sure she would not simply give up a Crystal Cave, that was so closely related and so important for the Jedi she hated so much that easily. Something smelled fishy.

Everything about him smells fishy.

“Why?”

How?

“She already controls the Jedi Enclave, the Imperial Outpost and the Mining Outpost, giving up the Cave did not seem to bother her that much.”

You gaped. Besides the unlikely gesture or deal — that did not seem anything alike the Aurra Sing you knew —, it had been days since the General last spoke that much to you, that he even deemed you worthy of his stare. Shaking your head, you concentrated on the topic at hand: the Cave had training facilities unlike any other in Dantooine. Why would Aurra— you stopped mid-thought. Of course…

“She doesn’t truly know about the simulation rooms.”

The General snorted. You took a few steps closer to him and folded your arms at your chest. Contrary to your expectations, he did not step away.

“She does.”

Then…?

“Aurra Sing doesn’t care about simulation rooms,” he said, taking two steps closer. It was enough to set his shiny boots barely an inch away from yours. “However, she isn’t aware this Cave has some old, albeit functional ships.”

It simply made no sense.

You shook your head. You did not know what that quick mind of his was working on, but you did not like it not even one bit. You did not trust Aurra…

…and you were not sure you could trust him either.

In spite of his words, in spite of your foolish heart that wanted so bad to believe him — to believe he had feelings for you —, your mind… your guts… told you to stay wide awake when near him.

I trust him with my life…

A shiver ran down your spine. His involvement with the Resistance and the Syndicate at the same time made no sense at all. And made it very difficult to trust him. How could he be loyal to two distinct factions — with very different beliefs — at once?

I am loyal only to myself…

You shook your head. You even reached out to him, but not sure if you should touch him or not, you entwined your fingers in front of your lap.

“I don’t want you involved with her.”

And part of me wants you away from the Resistance now.

The fact that General Organa had not contacted you yet, made it all the more difficult for you to trust him.

His response was immediate this time, “I know.”

Then… why?

You even opened your mouth to ask him to clarify this issue, but his leather-gloved finger over your bottom lip made your freeze in place. It was the first time in days… It was the first time he touched you. Willingly. Sometimes he would fix your posture in your training, but that was not a lingering touch. Unlike this very one. He cast a sideways glance, directing your own eyes towards the point over his shoulder. Before you could say anything, his lips fell upon yours in a.. kiss.

You could not even describe it.

Mechanic?

Cold?

Thought-out?

Everything but passionate.

If his words made no sense to you before, his actions felt even more absurd. Either way, you sighed against his lips and kissed him back, holding onto him for dear life — you were touch-starved, which was laughable considering you spent five years without… getting any action. He seemed determined to keep it — the kiss — in a… professional level. His usual voraciousness was gone.

It was a relief when he broke apart when the lights went out and the two of you were left in the dark.

You could say now you missed the power shortages in Dantooine. At least it was something completely predictable, contrary to the General’s cryptic behavior. The growing doubt that gripped your heart and did not seem about to let go seemed to only increase.

“What was that?” you asked, but quickly shook your head. “She’s watching everything, isn’t she?” This time, you spoke in Ryl, your voice no more than a whisper against his lips — you were still in his arms, still holding onto him, still waiting for him to kiss you properly. Yearning for it. Even if she knew and spoke the language to perfection, you doubted any of her henchmen — if any of them was in the Cave following you, which was probably the case — knew.

He nodded.

“I just don’t understand…” you spoke in a rushed tone, trying to clear your mind of any doubts before the lights flickered back — part of you wondered if that was not staged by him; to act as if he was being watched to get you to believe Aurra was the enemy —, but it was very difficult. His shady decisions had you on edge. “Why would you do what she wants?”

“Why not?” the General replied. His lips moved over yours in a small caress that had you sighing against him.

In your current state — in your heart’s current state —, it was very difficult to say no to him. Unlike his kiss, his fingers ghosting over your clavicle — but never getting closer to your throat; he seemed very conscious how he snapped last time — was anything but mechanic. His lips moved from yours to your cheeks and then your jaw… running the length of your skin towards your chin and finally stopping at your chin.

“It’s just…” You shut your lips when he started unbuttoning your shirt. You blinked. That was absolutely not the best moment to engage in intimacy, but you were so… needy right now. If you thought about using sex as a way to get the upper hand in this relationship before, now you knew you could never be as good as him. “How long till the power is back?”

“Two more minutes.” You shuddered as he parted from you and removed his own black shirt and brought you back to his arms. You were about to comment it was not enough time for the two of you to… do anything properly — the lights were about to flicker in and the cameras would record everything —, but his lips were on your ears, “She’s just found out about the ships and she’s going to destroy them.”

“But I thought…” You closed your eyes as he sat you over the balcony where you put your training devices and settled between your thighs; your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “You’re making absolutely no sense.”

As his lips fell over your throat and he kissed it lightly, you knew you had lost your ability to think. He did not take his time there, however, going back to your mouth and brushing his tongue against your bottom lip. He merely teased you, not kissing you for real. You groaned in frustration.

“Please.”

You were conflicted.

Part of you wanted — needed even — to go further with that. Needed him. Realistically, you knew it was all a game to deceive Aurra — or deceive you, you did not know anymore —, he knew what you wanted — he always seemed to know — and he was using sex as a tool to… — you swallowed, because you hated how truthful the word rang — to manipulate you.

“So easily distracted…” the General finally silenced you with his lips. As the lights flickered in again, you could not be gladder that he was finally kissing you for real.

A disappointed sigh left you as soon as you closed your eyes in the darkened bedroom.

Your bedroom.

Not his.

You were alone.

Not with him.

After bestowing you with a mind-blowing kiss, the General took you to your chambers. Part of you thought — you were hopeful even —, that the two of you would finally get physical.

Tsk.

All he did was to drop you onto the mattress and turn on his heels. He just left you alone. For a few minutes, you just stood positioned on your elbows waiting — hoping — for him to come back. Right now, it did not matter that he was using sex as a tool to manipulate you, you just needed it.

Now… as the lusty cloud left you — after you took matters into your own hands — you were glad he did nothing. You were glad he left.

At the same time, you were angry.

With yourself.

For the maker!

How could you be so stupid? You were never this irrational — gullible and stupid — with Aquilla. It is a fact that Aquilla never used sex as a tool… However, being married to an alien — and having sexual relations with them — was completely different than with a human — there was always extra care involved and twi’leks saw marriage was something sacred — not a lie to toy with. What you meant was that Aquilla would never tease you and leave you… wanting.

Perhaps next time you saw him you should tell him that.

If he said last time you kept comparing the two of them, then you should take comparisons to the next level. You wondered how long it would take for that nonchalant mask of his to fall after you told him Aquilla never teased just to leave you… unsatisfied.

Shaking your head, you tried to clear your mind of everything. Honestly, you were horrified you could think of something so mean. The General had issues — several, actually — and your childish behavior could — would — worsen them.

You closed your eyes and pulled the blankets to your chin, falling into an uneventful slumber shortly after.

It was middle of the night when you woke up by yourself. A nightmare about the General leaving you for good — without looking back — haunted your sleep. Your swallowed, but it was raspy. Your throat felt dry.

You sat on the bed and reached for the bottle, only to have it handed to you.

If the situation — if you did not feel so numb because of the dream —, you probably would have been startled. Instead, you accepted the bottle and drank the water in big gulps. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and looked at him in the darkened bedroom.

He was sitting in a chair close to your bed, completely focused on his datapad. The sound of his fingers working on the screen had you blinking a few times. Even if you had just woken up by yourself, you were still struggling to stay awake.

You bit your bottom lip and shook your head. So many questions you wanted — needed even — to ask, that you could not afford to sleep right now. It could — and would — come later.

“What was that earlier?” Your voice was small, unsure as you started. “Why are we really here?” You cast your eyes to your lap. Your body was covered with the softest fabric you had ever touched. The sheets were very pleasing to the touch. Even after a week living in the Cave, with sheets like that and a bed way bigger and comfortable than yours, you could not say you were happier here. You were very happy in the Cave in the first time you visited it, after your small adventure with the General. And even if you knew his demeanor had nothing to do with the place, you did not want to live in a place where he seldom spoke to you — in a place where he only kissed you because cameras would capture it. Your eyes widened when the thought hit you, “Are there cameras in this room?”

The corner of his lips tilted slightly upwards — which set your heart into a frenzied beat —, but his answer came quickly, “No.”

A relieved sigh left you. Honestly, you did not need for Aurra Sing to watch whatever you did in that room. Or even the General. That would be beyond embarrassing. You did not know about him, but you did mind being in the spotlight.

As you saw the lingering shadow of a smirk on his lips, you froze.

“You know.”

His lack of answer had heat touching towards your face… gripping it. That was the perfect time to compare him to Aquilla.

No.

You shook your head.

There were far more pressing matters. This… whatever this was… Is… — you had no idea anymore — could wait. You had to question his decisions concerning this very night. His touches — even if welcomed — came out of nowhere. He was using sex as a means of distraction. You were sure of it. If you yourself thought about it before — even if you did not act on it, you planned it —, the General would act on it; he was not above such machinations. What’s more, he proved for the second — third? you were no longer sure — time you were his to do as he pleased.

Easily distracted…

What bothered you was the fact he was right. The feeling of being beaten in a game you planned to play in the first place did not sit well with you.

“You manipulated me through sex.”

He shifted his attention to you. His piercing, impossibly blue eyes focused on your face. There was no need for a loud answer, for his orbs told you enough.

You bit your bottom lip.

“You think I am easy to manipulate.”

He did not look anywhere when the next words left his lips, “I know it.”

His answer knocked the air out of your lungs. You sat rigidly in your bed and tugged the sheets to your chin — you felt stupid for taking your clothes off. You would not feel so vulnerable right now if you put on something before you drifted to sleep.

But that was all.

It did not hurt you. His mean words. His cold demeanor.

By now… you were almost used to it. You felt so numb right now nothing he could have said would make you feel any worse.

“What are you doing here?”

Unlike last time, now he took his time to reply. You just sat there watching him type something on his datapad in silence. He was no longer looking at you — which was somewhat a relief —, his attention solely focused on the device.

How long were you here? you even wanted to ask but gave up shortly after. You could deal with everything right now, but not with the fact of knowing he had seen you — watched — as you pleasured yourself and sighed his name — imagined him doing things to you.

You shook your head.

“My…” You closed your mouth — addressing him as my Lord when you suspected he may have caught you doing the deed was far too embarrassing —, and tried again “Armitage?” you asked, your voice wavering this time, you were not really sure what to call him. Going back to your usual my Lord would not do, not with all the memories of that first night in the cave… Calling him your husband was an even greater absurd. But would he find it weird if all of a sudden you stopped addressing him formally or he would welcome it that you called him more intimately?

Besides, going back was not what you had in mind. If you wanted to move on with him, with you wanted to have a real relationship with him, you had to get closer… Your heart sped at the thought, but you knew it to be truthful: you had to start trusting him.

Right…?

You rose to your feet and cast a look at his datapad. It took you a while to recognize what he was doing and where he was doing it — for you were seeing everything upside down — but as you realized he was staring at some sort of files concerning the First Order, you felt an irrational fear gripping your heart.

Trust him with my life…

He chose that exact time to ask you to repeat the symptoms you had told him earlier when you told him about your day at the Hospital. You furrowed your brows, but recited them nonetheless, “It’s like a common cold, except that those infected with it are dying in three days-time. They’re afflicted with nasal congestion, fatigue, coughing and high appetite. What does it have to—

You stopped yourself. He would not answer to your question. And you were afraid of his answers. This conversation had you leaving the bed and looking for your clothes in the dim-lighted room. If you were to have that conversation — or any sort of conversation — it would absolutely not do to stay naked.

He cast a glance at you, his eyes narrowing as he watched your covering yourself from his prying eyes. Very conscious of his rapt attention, you wetted your lips and sat back on the mattress, pulling the blankets to cover yourself, “They seemed to have acquired a new taste for human flesh out of the blue as well.”

There was a moment of silence between you as his fingers stopped working on whatever he was… working. His eyes remained on you the whole time as he seemed to contemplate the new bit of information you just released — something you did not tell him before and that you regretted telling now.

“You’re not returning tomorrow.”

And there we go…

You felt highly stupid for saying that. So far, only two of the infected alien species showed any sort of addiction to human flesh — out of several! You thought that you were particularly safe. Not to mention, you were responsible for taking care of the children — and they rarely represented any danger.

Not to mention… He did not seem to care about you.

To love you.

Did it really matter if you died or lived?

And if he wanted you alive, was it because he felt something for you or because he thought you could be useful?

“Listen,” you started, biting your bottom lip. Convincing the General you were out of danger would be a difficult task, but you were willing to reason with him either way. Then you furrowed your brows, curiosity — mistrust — taking over you. You almost said that Aquilla would never ask you to stop working — to stop helping others when they needed you most. But should the words leave your lips, you would regret them forever — like you regretted reveling the whole truth that day. You shook your head and said, “Why are you so interested? You’re not even a doctor.”

He narrowed his eyes at you — it was as if he knew your traitorous thoughts —, but instead of giving you a direct answer, he opted to ask, “What do you know of the Kryto virus?”

You furrowed your brows. You simply hated how cryptic he was sometimes.

It did not make it any easier to trust him.

For the maker!

Your doubts were bordering on paranoia. For the first time, you realized that him knowing everything — and not telling how he figured out everything — was a heavy burden. His silent, offended even demeanor — and what did he have to be offended about when he lied to you as well? — prevented you from trusting him fully. It prevented you from letting go of the past — look at how many times you compared him to Aquilla in a short spam of time! — and truly moving on.

Trust him with my life…

As if…

Not even ten minutes ago you were sure he was manipulating you through sex. He was hiding something from you.

Loyal to myself and to you…

For real?

If he could lie about believing — buying — your own lies, why would he say he truth his loyalty?

“What does it have to do with—” You stopped midsentence, realization finally sinking on you, “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” he replied, handing you the datapad. He was reading some sort of article related to deadly viruses released by the Empire in an attempt to destroy the New Republic, of them was the famous Kryto Virus, a bioweapon responsible for taking the lives of millions of aliens back in 7 ABY.

You were a mere toddler when it happened and the subsequent Bacta Wars, but the misery you saw taking over the very planet in which you lived now would be forever marred in form of your father’s frown whenever he looked at you or you listened to him crying himself to sleep at night.

The mere thought of something of such scale taking over the galaxy again made a cold shiver ran down your spine and a deep, horrendous fear grip your very heart, squeezing it mercilessly.

Clearing your throat, you handed the datapad back to him. All traces of sleep had left you and now you were wide awake and very much frightened. Subconsciously, you reached for his hand and entwined your fingers together. When you realized what you were doing, you were ready to pull away, but he tightened his hold over you lightly.

You will have to follow your instincts.

For the first time his words started making sense to you. The paranoia was leaving your system. Understanding flooded you. He did hide tons of stuff from you, but if he did have anything to keep from you — concerning the disease at least —, he certainly would not show you the article, would he?

With his left hand only, he started typing something else in the flat screen and shortly after you were staring at several sketches. It showcased a Dantari with some red spots on the face and body. Each spot had a brief description that matched exactly the symptoms the patients at the Hospital displayed.

Instead of asking the obvious question, instead of putting the blame where it was due — paranoid! you were paranoid —, you said, “So… you have all of your accesses to the First Order database?”

You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his reply.

“Mostly.”

You took your time to voice your next question. You were really not sure you were ready for his answer — whatever it may be.

“Did you know it?”

“Possibly,” he replied, his eyes focused on you. When you looked down at your joined hands, he used his thumb to caress the inside of your wrist. His touch burned your skin, so you quickly disentangled your fingers and moved away from him. Your action made him straighten his back. “I have not regained all of my memories, so I do not know.”

The thought of his lost memories — he would not and could not know, for he knew nothing of his past before the attempt on his life — should make you feel relieved, but you felt even tenser now. Without knowing, he could be the very responsible for this new development in Dantooine. It is, if he coordinated the invasion of your planet, he could also have orchestrated this new virus, right?

Not for the first time you wondered if you did the right thing by saving him. And even if it hurt you beyond imagination the thought of how empty your life would be, you could not help but ask yourself if you were not in the wrong right now.

“Have you ever lost your memories?”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

There was moment of absolute, sepulchral silence. You thought you forgot how to breathe; your heart was beating madly inside your chest as you waited for his answer. When it came, you were left agape.

“You should sleep,” he said, getting on his feet. You were not sure if his face was that expressionless or if you were imagining stuff.

He moved his fingers over your temple, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. Before he could caress your face, however, you snapped his hand away.

“Is there any cure in any of these articles?”

He had his eyes narrowed, but he did not comment on your sudden change in behavior. He retreated — both physically and emotionally —, looking for his leather gloves in the dressing table in the other corner of the room.

The silence was almost unbearable as he placed his blaster in its holder. You wanted to say something, your throat even burned with it, but you felt unable to even open your mouth.

“Do you trust me?”

…with my life.

You bit your bottom lip. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to be as sure as you were when you told General Organa just a few days ago, but could not.

For the maker!

You swallowed.

He grabbed his coat and headed for the exit. He had his hands clasped on his back when he spoke without even casting one last glance at you, “Do not wait for me.”

A/N - And that’s all for today. I’ll see you on Wednesday xD

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