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kquil · 3 months

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes!

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits.

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down.

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus.

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness.

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise.

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!”

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?�� with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips.

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup.

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again.

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute.

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily.

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?”

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!”

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums.

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different.

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you.

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you.

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing.

What have you done?...

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable.

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be.

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are.

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there.

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper.

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape.

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–”

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode.

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility.

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs.

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio.

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly.

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?...

…Dream or not, you like this very much!

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss.

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough.

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain.

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long.

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.

Overwhelmed but so content.

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it.

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques.

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on...

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

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#poly marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #marauders #wolfstar #heroes in tattoos series #HIT : series

933 notes · View notes

heartsoji · 1 year

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haikyuu boys with an s/o who's really scared of horror movies

pairings: iwaizumi x reader, oikawa x reader, tsukishima x reader, bokuto x reader

a/n: lol this is me i actually cannot with horror like at all

warnings: post-timeskip in iwaizumi's

iwaizumi hajime

iwaizumi's pretty good with horror movies

occasionally, he'll be a little caught off-guard with a sudden jumpscare, but he's pretty much fine otherwise

now YOU..

you are not ok.

you are screaming, hiding, and tearing up

he honestly doesn't really understand what's so scary about them

since i hc iwaizumi to be a realist, he'd be like

it's a movie. it was filmed. those are actors. it's so obvious none of that stuff could ever happen in real life

still, he understands that you're really scared and tries his best to comfort you

time to put those beefy athletic trainer arms to work

he lets you cling onto them for the whole movie and lets you use then as a stress ball

iwaizumi's a traditional, old school, cheesy hopeless romantic. convince me otherwise.

therefore, his method of comfort usually comes in the form of soothing words and back rubs in his arms

its actually quite nice. he lets you scream into his titties (HE HAS TITTIES AND THEYRE MORE ROCK SOLID THAN REGINA GEORGE'S MOM'S. CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.)

when you're truly scared scared (like heart pounding, sobs racking ur body, you're def gonna get rlly bad nightmares type of scared scared)

he will probs turn it off bc he thinks that no movie ending is worth this much terror

he cares about you a lot, after all. he thinks its slightly amusing when you're screaming your head off at the obviously fake blood, but he would never want you to be fearful for real

rubs your back and whispers soothing words into your ear

"its ok" "i'm right here" "don't worry, i'd protect you if they ever came" type of stuff

after you've calmed down a bit, he'll try to make you laugh

jokes, tickles, anything, really!

he hates seeing you scared. he just wants you to be happy

10/10. marry me sir.

oikawa tooru

lol

hate to break it to you but

tooru is equally as scared of horror movies

you guys have to cuddle up in blanket burritos together and scream at every jumpscare

honestly you both only make it through the movie through sheer willpower

if you're crying, he'll try to comfort you, but tbh he's pretty damn scared himself

however, once the movie is over, he's totally fine

movie forgotten. out of memories. what movie should you guys watch next?

but YOU

you're still crying

you're still really shaken up

you're def gonna have nightmares

he takes that opportunity to be the manly man he is and swoops you up bridal style

he's very charming. he looks at you in the most dazzling, heart-melting way

lol boy u were just crying too stfu

he cuddles you close, and just like iwa, whispers sweet words into your ear

however, unlike iwa, they're much more...childish? playful? how to describe them..

"it'll be ok. your big, strong, boyfriend will protect anything that tries to hurt his princess" "*dramatic gasp* YOU DON'T THINK I'M CAPABLE OF FIGHTING IT OFF BY MYSELF? HOW COULD YOU UNDERESTIMATE ME LIKE THIS? THIS.. THIS IS BETRAYAL" "they don't even look that strong. im sure i could hit a volleyball at one and it would rip into two!"

stuff like that

he would make sure to cuddle you extra close that night

overall, he's pretty fun and is good at making everything seem less serious. 8.5/10!

tsukishima kei

honestly, he's as affected by horror movies at the average guy

he doesn't find them as terrifying as oikawa, but he's definitely not as unaffected as iwaizumi

but you'd never know that

why?

he just hides his emotions really, really well

also he just sometimes focuses on the wall behind the tv and drowns out the voices

he just sits through them and bears them, basically

now, why? why in the world would he do this when he doesn't even enjoy it?

to make fun of you, duh. shouldn't that have been obvious?

when you leap 30ft out of your seat into the air, he laughs at you

he'll even add onto your fear by like grazing your opposite shoulder when you aren't looking and pretending he didn't do it

hes a brat

but honestly, he partially enjoys it when you spring onto him at the jump scares, no matter how much he denies it

as we all know, the boys a lil shy about asking for affection

with horror movies, he gets your affection without even asking for it! yay!

but once the movies over, if you're really shaken up, he'll use his giant beanpole arms and spoon you until you fall asleep

but then he'll be an ass about it the following week

pokes, grabs, jabs you and will say,

"huh? it wasn't me. maybe it was the (wtv villain or ghost or spirit or wtv from the movie)!"

2/10. makes fun of you and makes the movie even scarier tbh. the 2 points r only bc of the comfort he gives after its over.

bokuto koutaro

like most things in life, bokuto goes between two extremes, and never crosses into the middle

he's either having super insane cut shots that go BOOM

OR he's doing awful and is in his emo mode

same thing with this

he either isn't affected by it at all and just laughs

or he screams when the character breathes a lil too heavily

now, if he thinks the movie's not scary at all, he's pretty good to watch with if you're super scared

during the scary parts, he lets you cling onto his beefy arm while he just watches the movie in amusement

like there's a really scary scene where there's a huge jumpscare into the most climatic scene in the movie and you're burying your face into his arm but in the background you just hear:

"HAHAHAHAHA! Y/N Y/N! YOU GOTTA SEE THIS! HE'S...HE'S GETTING CHASED BY THIS GREY LITTLE CHILD! HAHAHAHA ITHIHIHIT'S EYES LOOK LIKE TAPIOCAAHAHAAHA"

"oh the grey little child is smiling! it's kinda cute! why is the main character guy sweating? he looks like me right after a long game"

"why'd the grey little child pull a purple thing out of his throat? what's that? i wonder what it tastes like though..i think it would be a thick gummy texture, but maybe a little gooey on the inside. definitely grape-flavored. the really sweet artificial good one. oh.. now i want a gummy!"

yeah

he definitely makes it less scary because he makes all the scary stuff seem really stupid

honestly pretty nice. you might not get as many nightmares because of him

now

when he's terrified, he's more terrified than you

*main character sneezes* "AHHHHHHH"

think oikawa x 800

mhm

honestly, you kind of have to take the comfort role even though you're deathly afraid of horror movies

"kou, he's just walking. its ok."

honestly he makes it seem less scary like this too because it forces you to see why the movie isn't actually that scary because you have to find out the reasons to comfort him

8.7/10. a sweetie

2K notes · View notes

hanaonesflower · 1 year

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Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

#as someone who has a lot of trouble giving into physical touch #even tho I’m touch starved #this one is for the girlies that feel the same way as me #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #hq shorts #iwaizumi fluff #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #⌑ 5 LL series ⌑#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyu angst #angst to fluff kinda

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norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

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hi its cait/enchantecafe🫶🏻 i saw u wanted poly mark and seb ideas?? imagine them wanting to date the same girl in their red bull days. they meet her at the same time and both ask her out but she can’t choose who to go out with so she agrees to go on a date with both. at first it’s not poly, she planned on going out with each a few times and then continuing to date the one she liked more. but she can’t choose and after telling them how she feels, they agree that neither of them wants to give her up either, so they come to an agreement. at first they’re kind of just dating her at the same time but because they already spend all their time together as teammates she’s just hanging out in their garages with both of them and somehow they end up going on three way dates and celebrating races together. there’s still a rivalry there that she has to deal with sometimes like. imagine poly mark and seb when multi 21 happens ?? omfg. the mess!!

A/N: kjsdfas.fs;hd.fasm I don't blame reader because I could NEVER pick between them tbh! But, I through this together and took bits and pieces hope you love this! also love your blog and writing

"I'm sorry, what?" Mark blurts as you flinch a little bit, picking at your jeans. Sebastian sat right beside him, legs sprawled out as he keeps his eyes closed, the bright blonde hair making your eyes hurt looking at it.

"Mark, please just understand." You beg him but Mark just scuffs trying to understand this. "Calm down, Markie." Sebastian teases and the older man rolls his eyes and you see the anger slowly leave his body.

"So you want both of us hm? So needy for the both of us?" Sebastian mummers and leans forward, tongue poking out. "Leave her alone, just because she has fallen for you, doesn't mean I won't let you have her." Mark snaps, refusing to let Sebastian tease you like this in front of him. "Boys, stop." You beg, hating it when they fight.

"I'm telling you both this because I love you both and I can't pick. I can't okay." You breath finally feeling at peace for getting those words out. Sebastian stops, eyes narrowing just slightly before going back to normal. "Both of us?" Mark repeats unsure how to take this. "Yes, the both of you." You repeat.

"Okay," Yours and Mark's head whip toward Sebastian who looks so relaxed, like this was a normal conversation about the weather. "Seriously?" Mark sputters shocked by how unbothered Sebastian was with this. Sebastian hated to share, he should know.

"Sharing her, with you? I'm perfectly fine with. Besides I notice the way you stare at me from time to time. Tell me you don't," "Okay," Mark stands fast and laughs, rubbing his forehead. "Fine, fine, we can do this." Mark whispers and leans over kissing your cheek.

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

March 24th, 2013

"Please, be careful. Both of you," You smile pulling Sebastian in by his belt. It's been 2 years since that talk with them, and here you are kissing them both before the race starts. "We will be darling," Mark whispers kissing you gently and before placing a quick kiss with Sebastian.

"See you at the finish line," Seb jokes and Mark chuckles giving him another quick kiss. "Be nice!" You yell as they get into their cars and you head into the garage.

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

"Please, don't do this." You whisper, as you hear the radio to Sebastian. "Seb, Multi 21, follow it." The engineer begs, but Seb doesn't say anything as he overtakes Mark. "God dammit, Seb." You curse and throw off your headphones. "Fucking shit," You knew this wasn't going to go overwell.

You couldn't watch the rest of the race, you couldn't even look at the podium as you went straight to Mark. You could see the defeat, anger, hopelessness and betrayal written all over him. "Mark!" He turns and you can see the tears fill his eyes as you rush to his side.

Those arms bring you comfort as he hides his face into your neck and tears fall down. "Why? Why would he do that? To me?" He cries as you two move to hide away from prying eyes. "Shhh, it'll be okay baby. I've got you." The anger you felt for Mark was raging inside. More so when you hear cheers.

"What? No congratulations?" Sebastian laughs, holding the tropy and you turn eyes furious which has Seb flinching. "No, Seb. No congratulations. I can't believe you! How DARE YOU!" You snap, Mark pulls you back still crying softly. "Leave Sebastian," You snap pulling Mark back into you as you try to comfort him.

"Y/n, Mark, plea-" "LEAVE!" You roar, watching as Sebastian back steps and runs off, leaving you to pick up the pieces.

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dearharriet · 2 months

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HII!! CAN I REQUEST TEN THINGS I HATE ABT YOU + JAMES POTTER PLEASE 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I FOUND UR BLOG AND I AM OVSSESSED !!!!!!

hi hi you’re so lovely!!! i had to think on this one for a while but i think i like how it came out! james seems much more like cameron than patrick, i hope u don’t mind <3 (wc: 1.2K)

You get the sudden feeling that you’ve been completely messed about at this stupid house party.

Down the driveway, your so-called friend is climbing into the passenger seat of a Porsche, leaving you behind in less than ideal autumn-garb; A red dress that falls too short and clings too thin to your wind-whipped torso, and a sad excuse for a shawl are all you have for warmth.

And if things could get any worse, you’re likely going to have to walk home in the kitten heels you insisted on wearing.

Behind you, a clunky wooden front door heaves open, producing the sweet but hopeless guy who’s been following you around all night. James, you think is his name.

He’s relatively attractive, in a sort of lost puppy way. Big brown eyes and pouty lips, a softness to his tone that could probably buckle knees if he took better advantage of it. Still, he’s thinner and scraggly, and lacks any kind of social quip to make that likely.

He skips down the steps, his dress coat flung dejectedly over his shoulder, and a frown tying his brows together. His friend from earlier is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you say tentatively and his hung head picks up, though his mouth only hardens its angry line. He takes in your unlucky state, and any trace of the puppy-love softness he’d shown you all night is gone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

You scoff. “Please. He’s not my boyfriend.” His face remains stony and unaffected. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

James reaches his free hand up to push back his hair, and you stare at his tensing arm without really realizing it.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, hiking his jacket further over his shoulder and walking past you.

In a small window of time, you realize he has keys that he’s fishing out of his slacks pocket—car keys—and your aching feet override your nerves.

“Uh, James?” You both spin towards each other, your back now to the house and his to the cars. You realize that’s probably not the only thing that switched between you tonight. Ironically, you’re the one chasing after him now.

“Yeah,” he says, agitated, when all you do is stare. You look to the empty space where your ride once was, and back to James.

“Could you give me a lift home?”

Something about the way his expression slackens turns your insides out. When was the last time someone looked so disappointed in you? As far as you know, most of the decisions you make go over very well, and no one is ever upset with you (save your sister, who is never happy if she can help it).

But here is James, with eyes holding the most loathing likely ever directed your way, and with every right.

He shakes his head, but says, “Yeah, whatever.”

Somehow that might be worse.

Trailing after him, you come up on his old sedan, a car that seems like it’d have a myriad of mechanical problems. He has to stick his key in the driver’s door to unlock it.

When he gets his door open, he unlocks the rest of them, and you slide awkwardly into the leathery bench beside him. James seems to notice your unfamiliarity and shreds your self esteem further with a scoff.

“It’s not a convertible, I know. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No,” you immediately defend, warm from his apt assessment of you. James gives you a sideways glance of warning. “I mean, yes, I was expecting something else, but it’s—I’m not…”

“It’s fine,” James sighs, turning the car on, “it’s just a lift home. You made it pretty clear that that’s all you want me for.”

As James pulls into the street, you watch the house slip away, party like a fizzling ember fighting the midnight cold.

“That’s not true,” you say, though you’re not sure you feel it at all. Your voice is overly sweet, an attempt at the voice that serves to get you what you want, when you want it.

You’re not entirely sure what you want anymore, but James brushes it off anyway, like it’s a revolting bug.

“Yes, it is.”

It astonishes you how easily he can cut you down. He’s hardly speaking loud enough to be heard above the radio, just a bitter rake of a comment, but you’re floored all the same.

The car falls silent, and you stare at your lap instead of out the window. You feel thoroughly scolded, dissected and left to put yourself back together. You don’t think you’ll cry, but you’re not ruling it out.

When James pulls past a stop sign, approaching your neighborhood, he glances over at you.

“Yknow.” He pauses, licking his lips. “I didn’t even expect you to like me back.” His eyes return to the street “And it’s fine that you don’t, but—but you could’ve just told me.”

You rub your hands over the hem of your dress, a foreign set of nerves gripping your chest. Realistically, you could weather the storm until he drops you off, but for some reason you desperately want to rectify the situation.

You want to tell him that yes, of course you liked him all this time, because that should be true. Except it’s not.

James’ car rolls up to the curb outside your place. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel.

“I really cared about you. I went to that party for you, and I ignored everyone who said I was stupid for doing it.” Shaking his head, James looks at you, anger peeling back to reveal raw hurt. “But you’re so conceited.”

You expel a painful breath, all the wind knocked out of you.

“I know.” Breaking eye contact, you flick your eyes to your shoes. Flattery and shame twine together in your throat. “Did you really go to the party for me?”

James nods.

“Went to the party, got that guy to date your sister,” he lists. “I even learned French for you. And what did it get me? A whole lot of—”

Without really thinking, you surge forward and pull James’ lips onto yours. They lay warm and firm over your mouth, and you can’t deny how right it feels.

You’re expecting James to pull back, to push you away, but he does the opposite. One hand laces into your pristine hair, holding you to him, and the other wraps around your back.

It’s a perfect kiss, the kind that you always dreamed of, and it makes a giddy laugh bubble out of your mouth.

When you pull away, you’re dizzy and a little self-pitying. You could’ve been kissing James like this whole time instead of chasing after some pea-brained asshole in a nice car.

James seems to watch the thought wash over you, because he kisses you one more time to remind you that it doesn’t matter, that you’re here now. Then he lets you go, and you relish in the way his hands linger over your waist, your neck. The giddy feeling comes back twofold.

“Night,” you say through a prim smile. “Thanks for the lift.”

James’ eyes crease a little at the edges from his returning smile. “G’night, beautiful.”

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

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hugmekenobi · 5 months

Text

Return to the Light

A Bad Batch Post S2 Oneshot

Gif by @spacemagicandlaserswords

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Being separated from one another had taken it's toll and the search had been hard but in all the darkness, a glimmer of hope remains

Warnings: Mentioned canon-typical violence, swearing, my made-up timeline, limited use of y/n, some choice interrogation techniques, sad flashbacks, mentions/descriptions of torture, mentions of death, mentions/descriptions of injury and sickness, reader is not in the greatest of headspaces and takes it out on Lyra, talks of self-sabotage/sacrifice and self-loathing, my interpretation of all things Force, dodgy Star Wars medical techniques, slight manipulation/miscommunication, kissing, overall a pretty angsty time but there's some fluff sprinkled in

Masterlist for S1 and S2

Word Count: 18.2K (don't look at me, idk what happened lol)

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Huge shoutout and thanks to my friend @burningfieldof-clover who supported and provided many helpful tips as I struggled though this!! And its finally here! I am so sorry it took so long but I hope you all enjoy it despite the wait! I have another one planned to follow that hopefully will not take as long haha so I'm excited to get to work on that too! Also praying that by posting this, I can manifest a S3 trailer haha

Nelvaan

Ever since the disaster of Ord Mantell and from the second they’d managed to flee; Hunter had been doing everything he could to find you and Omega again. He’d tormented himself with the various possibilities of what could be happening to the two of you. Every day he’d been apart from you both had seen him fighting with himself. Possible informants and Imperial soldiers he could cope with just fine, what had been proving to be a struggle was fighting the complete hopelessness that had overwhelmed him as the weeks dragged on with no sign or information on the whereabouts of either of you. Every failed lead had left the bitter taste of disappointment and there were times when he felt like he would be crushed by the weight each defeat brought.

Things had started to shift however when they came across the various wanted posters and holoimages of you that were strewn across the galaxy, particularly in the Outer Rim. So, when Echo had decided to do some work on his own and went back to working with his contacts within the Empire and reported back that you hadn’t actually been taken, he’d felt that flicker of hope he hadn’t been able to find for a long time and the plan changed. Echo would continue to utilise his allies in the search for Omega whilst he and Wrecker looked for you. Once Hunter had you back, the four of you would reconvene and find Omega.

To get to Omega, they needed your skills and… and Hunter just needed you but there were moments in the early stages of the search where it seemed impossible. Knowing you were out on your own helped with finding his way out of the darkness but knowing you were alive and finding you alive were very different things, the latter was proving to be incredibly challenging.

You may had stopped hiding what you were, but you were remarkably good at making an impression somewhere but still finding a way to go unseen. Every location they’d gone to, they’d been too late, and you appeared to have moved on. You never stuck around anywhere for too long and it was making things a lot harder.

The most recent trail of half-baked information he and Wrecker had followed had led them to this pawn shop- ‘Hidden Gems’. According to rumour, you’d been in asking about them, yet another piece of knowledge that only added to his frustration that they always seemed to miss you by a matter of weeks. Hunter opened the door, but the owner’s back was still turned to them as they pashed the threshold.

Kedrin heard the bell clang as the door opened and shut. “I’ll be with you in a flash.” He said as he finished writing up the recent sales. He closed the book and turned around with a salesman smile on his face, but that and his words of welcome instantly died on his lips as he saw who had walked in.

Immediately upon seeing these men, Kedrin was reminded of a description given to him a while ago by the Jedi everyone had been talking about and he did not want them here. He did not want to deal with this anymore. “Ah, well actually gentlemen, I was just closing up for the afternoon. You’ll have to come back.” He said, wringing his hands nervously as the bigger one split off and began wandering the shop whilst the one with the bandana stayed where he was.

Hunter leaned his back against the door and lazily played with his vibroblade. He knew by the beads of sweat on the owner’s brow and the anxious pounding of his heart that they were in the right place. “Where is she?” He asked, his voice low and hostile as he turned the sign from open to closed, his eyes never leaving the owner.

Kedrin retreated to behind the counter. “I um…” His throat was as dry as sand and he swallowed to get some moisture back so he could speak properly. “I don’t know who-” He cleared his throat again. “Who you are referring to. Perhaps-”

“There’s not point in lying to him. If I can tell you are, he definitely can.”

Kedrin’s eyes darted to the bigger one who had offered the advice, but he had to bring his attention back to the tattooed soldier who was staring at him with such cold and dark eyes that fear creeped up his spine, making his hair stand on end and goosebumps rise on his flesh.

“Where is she?” Hunter asked again as he pushed off the door and steadily walked towards the man.

“I’m- I’m afraid I don’t- don’t have the answer you seek.” Kedrin stuttered. As the soldier drew closer, Kedrin reached under the table and grabbed the blaster he kept concealed there. But, as he lifted it out, in the blink of an eye, the weapon was shot out of his hand and his head was smacked down and being pressed harshly into the countertop- a strong hand on the back of his neck reducing his struggles to break free to be no more than a pitiful effort. His resistance ceased altogether when he felt the sharp tip of a blade being pushed into the back of his hand and he cried out in discomfort as the metal broke the skin and blood began to spill from the cut but there would be no respite for him.

“Try again.” Hunter hissed as he brought his head down to the man’s level.

But all Kedrin could do was whimper in pain.

“She was here. We know she was here. Where did she go?” Hunter growled into his ear, applying more pressure to the point of the blade, ignoring the agonised yelp.

“I don’t know!” Kedrin protested in distress, his voice slightly muffled as his lips touched the cold material of the counter. He hated this part of the job, it wasn’t his fault he had access to other ports of information, it just worked out that way and for the most part he hadn’t gotten into too much bother. But ever since that Jedi woman had come to him with her threats, he’d vowed to himself that he would turn over a new leaf. He’d leave this element of his work behind, and he wouldn’t just be a pushover to whatever or whoever came in demanding his extra services. He felt the hand leave the back of his neck. He uneasily straightened up and tenderly analysed his injury on his hand but was grateful to see that it had felt and looked worse than it was. He took out a handkerchief from the lapel of his jacket and wrapped it up before he tidied his hair in an attempt to regain some calm and control over the situation. “Now, I ask that you leave this instance before I call the proper authorities.” He demanded, but he couldn’t shake the quiver in his speech which removed any forcefulness. He walked around the counter and gestured to the door.

Hunter ignored his requested. He simply took a step back and nodded sharply to Wrecker who cracked his knuckles and neck in intimidation.

Well, he could always start next week. “Wait wait wait! I actually might have something!” Kedrin back peddled fearfully as the larger one stalked towards him and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, raising him to his tiptoes. “My brother runs our partner pawn shop on Christophsis and he’s said there’s been Jedi activity there. Apparently, it’s been going on for a while now. Could be who you’re looking for?”

Wrecker glanced back at Hunter who signalled to him to drop the man.

Hunter silently turned on his heels and led the way out of the shop and back to the Marauder. He’d been powerless for far too long and had failed one too many times but that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

This time they weren’t going to miss you.

Christophsis

When the hour had finally got late enough, you grabbed your blaster and sheathed your vibroblade and made the final adjustments to your armour before you sneakily opened your door to dark and empty main room of the run-down apartment. You pulled your hood and mask up as you stepped out and headed for the exit.

You got as far as activating the panel for the door to open before the lights turned on.

“You’re going out again.”

You closed the door and huffed out an irritated breath. You swivelled on your heels to see Lyra standing in the doorway of her room. You tugged down your mask. “Yeah… and?”

“And I thought after the last time, you were going to take some time and-”

“You know I can’t do that.” You interrupted icily.

“You’ve barely recovered. I just think-”

“I’ve recovered enough.”

“It’s just one more night. If not for your sake, then do it for mine… please.”

“We’ve already settled here for you, didn’t we?” You retorted.

“After I begged you too! If it were up to you, we’d still be living on that hellhole of a ship and never staying anywhere for more than two weeks! And I don’t know if what we have right now is all that better!”

“I gave you an out months ago! Back on Ord Mantell and again on Corellia! You didn’t have to follow me!” You snapped angrily.

Lyra scoffed. “Corellia was when you finally deemed it fit to fill me in on the whole story after I saw you choke the life out of a man without laying a hand on him. I had known something was off in the weeks since Ord Mantell and then Corellia told me you needed someone. Forgive me if I wanted to stick around to try to help you!”

“I don’t need saving.” You said tightly. “And anyway, he got what was coming to him.” You said utterly uncaring with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Now, can I go now? Are you done scolding me?”

Lyra looked at you imploringly. “Don’t you see what this is doing to you? You’re losing who you are and it’s-”

You couldn’t listen to the speech again. “I’m not doing this with you again, Lyra. Just go back to bed and I’ll be back later.”

Lyra looked at you in disbelief. “Later? Last time you said that I didn’t see you for three weeks and you came back tortured and half-dead! You’re no good to them if you die in the process of finding them!”

You just shook your head and lifted your mask and turned to open the door again.

“I can’t watch you kill yourself for this anymore.” Lyra said quietly to your back, her words laced with pity and sadness.

“Then don’t look.” With that, you stepped outside into the night.

Kirion stepped into the small kitchen in the back of his shop and sifted through the second cupboard. Instinct meant he didn’t need the light and he found what he was looking for.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Kirion yelped and dropped his mug. It smashed to the ground but that was not his concern anymore. The dark outline by the window was. “I don’t want any trouble.” His voice trembling.

“Do you know what they say about people who can’t sleep at night, Kirion?” You asked as you hopped off the counter, the yellow hue of the streetlights coming through the window illuminating your figure.

“N- no.”

“Plagued by a guilty conscience. The crushing weight of knowing you’re not doing enough, or you’ve gone too far can get to you. Or say, being a pawn shop owner intent on ripping everyone off for that extra bit of profit.”

Kirion cleared his throat nervously. He didn’t know how you knew that, but you’d gathered quite the reputation in the time you’d lived here, and he didn’t want you around. “Why are you here then?” He asked shakily. “Guilty conscience too?”

You laughed humourlessly. “You get the pleasure of my company because you have something for me.” Somewhere deep down, you had a different answer, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to bring that to the surface. It would get you nowhere.

“I don’t. I swear I-”

“Oh, this’ll go a lot better if you don’t lie to me.” You said, your voice hardening. You patted him roughly on the shoulder as you stepped past him.

“I don’t know if I have the information you’re looking for.”

“You know who I am?” You flicked the light on and waltzed into the storefront filled with clear glass cases with various pawned off items. Heirlooms, artifacts, jewellery, random items- all seemed to have a place here, whether they were genuine or not. You beckoned him to come in.

“It’s um kind of hard not to.” He wringed his hands anxiously as he followed you in and signalled to the front of the store. He took that opportunity to press the button under the table by the credit register.

You followed his stare and chuckled as you saw the backs of the posters in the front window. “I can sign one for you later.” You started scanning variety of items he possessed. “Quite the business you’ve got here.”

“Keeps-” He swallowed nervously. “Keeps the credits coming in.”

“Shame a lot of it is all garbage.” You smashed your elbow against one of the glass panels. “Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber?” You snickered as you picked up the item and sure enough, you got nothing from it. “Please. Nothing here but a bunch of dressed up metal material and a design anyone with access to an old holonet could copy. Then again, you probably knew that, but it doesn’t stop you underpaying for it and then charging a steep fee for the poor sucker that falls for it.”

Kirion gulped as he watched you continue your assault on his store.

You shattered a few more glass panes with claims of ‘Jedi artifacts’ in them. “Some of this is just embarrassing. You actual convince people that this stuff is worth the price?”

“What do you want?” Kirion interjected swiftly as he saw you getting ready to break another one.

You paused your movement and angled yourself to face him. You mimed applause. “That’s the right question. See, you gave yourself away earlier, Kirion. I’d expect you to know who I am, but to know that I’m after information? You had no way of knowing that, not officially and it’s the fact that you do know, that makes you of use to me.”

“Of use?” Kirion repeated fretfully.

You stalked closer to the desk register, the broken glass crunching beneath your feet. “You run this place in a back alley and get everyone from all walks of life coming in here pawning off their shit that you then rip off, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. What I do give a fuck about is that you hear things. People will tell you their stories, the things they’ve seen and overheard in the streets or on their travels. You are a fountain of knowledge of the underground happenings in this galaxy. Or, at the very least, you know people that run in the circles that have what I’m searching for.

“I-”

You placed a finger on his lips to shush him. “Here’s how this will work: So long as you don’t lie to me, and you don’t call the Empire, I won’t hurt you and you get to keep your life. Are we clear?” You removed your finger.

“C-crystal.” Kirion stuttered, very much regretting what he’d done in the beginning of this meeting.

“Good.” You released a short breath. “Now, I’m looking for a group of clones. They don’t look like the ones you may come across these days, rare as that seems to be now. One wears a red bandana and has a tattoo on the left-side of his face. Looks like this.” You pointed to the white insignia on your top. “But it’s black. The other is tall and bald with a scar on his left temple and he’s blind in his left eye. Heard of anyone like that?”

“I don’t know. No one like that’s come here.” Kirion shifted his feet awkwardly.

You tossed your head back in aggravation. “I really don’t have time for this.” You summoned the Force and lifted him against the wall and started to compress his airway. “I told you; I don’t like liars.” You gave him a pitying stare as he couldn’t help but clutch desperately at his throat. “Wanna try again?” You relaxed your hold slightly to give him the chance to speak.

“Okay- they- they- could be- be- coming here.” He gasped.

“They’re coming here?” You double checked as you eased your grip and let him get his feet back on the ground.

Kirion panted as he felt the invisible hold around his neck loosen. “Yes, my other store got a visit from some men that match what you’re saying. The manager there told them there was a Jedi here and called me earlier to let me know they might pass this way. That’s all I know, please, get out!”

You narrowed your eyes at him because despite his now honest words, you could tell he was getting anxious, and it wasn’t all because of you now. It was then that you heard the familiar pounding footsteps grow closer and halt outside the front door. You released an exasperated sigh and tutted. “Kirion… I thought we had an understanding.”

“No- wait! I-”

You called on the Force and snapped his neck before he had a chance to finish his plea and a second later, you heard the door crash open.

“You’re-”

“Under arrest?” You finished as you watched Kirion’s limp body slide to the floor. You heaved a sigh and turned to face the squad of ten stormtroopers that were lining the rows and blocking the path between you and the door.

“Get-”

“On my knees? Place my hands behind my head?” You interrupted, boredom evident in your tone as you crossed your arms and leaned against the till counter.

The troopers faltered slightly at your blatant dismissiveness of them.

You pretended to look confused for a moment. “Now, I can never keep track of where the Empire is in that whole phasing out thing so I always gotta ask this- any of you got a CT number?” You straightened up and hovered your hand over your blaster. “It’s always much simpler when none of you do.”

“Last chance, Jedi!” One of them called out as they readjusted their stances.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah… you all say the same thing.”

You quietly walked into your place and pulled your hood and mask down, ignoring the sting of pain as the material caught on the cuts on the bridge of your nose and your lip. You ran your tongue along your mouth and could still taste the harsh metallic taste of blood as it continued to ooze from the wound. Your nose was also still bleeding so you turned on the dim kitchen light to find something to stop it.

“Thought you’d be outta here by now.” You commented cooly without looking up as you heard her door open, and the soft padding of footsteps walk towards you. You fished out a cloth and ran it under some cold water and wiped away the congealed blood on your face before you held it to your nose.

“We don’t have a ship anymore, remember?” Lyra reminded you as she sat by the small kitchen table.

You’d forgotten about that. After the two of you had found this place, you’d sold it to someone who claimed to have word from Hunter. Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a rather bad deal and it was your first experience of dealing with the Imperials stationed here. “There are transports.”

Lyra just shook her head at you. “You still don’t get it.”

“Don’t really see what there is to get. Just hop on the next ship outta here, I won’t stop you.”

“I care about you, dumbass. Whatever is happening to you, I can’t just leave you alone in it.” Lyra replied wearily. Part of her wanted to, she’d even started packing a bag this time, but after these months spent with you and especially after what you went through recently told her you were one step away from a full-on breakdown and whether you would admit it or not, you still needed someone.

You ground out a sigh and stared down at the floor. She kept doing this. She kept having that faith in you that you couldn’t see but you didn’t deserve it. She should leave, she’d be better off without you but you didn’t have it in you to give her that final push. So, you worked on freezing her out, pushing her away until she realised you weren’t good for her or anyone else. But she refused, she was still here with you, and you couldn’t fathom why.

“Did you get what you were looking for?” Lyra asked, deliberately avoiding asking the state of the people that had clearly got in your way tonight. She’d seen what you were capable of but found that living in as much ignorance as she could saved her a lot of trouble. That and reminding herself you were not yourself right now.

“Yup.” You rinsed out the cloth and got ready to move into your room.

“I need to check your stitches. You weren’t ready for a fight yet.”

You knew what she would find if she looked. “No, you don’t.”

“(Y/N), let me see.” Lyra caught your arm as you went to move past her.

You huffed out another irritated breath but took your armour off before you lifted your first layer over your head. “Knock yourself out.”

She pushed up your vest top. “Yeah, you ripped a few open.” Lyra winced as she saw the lines of blood secreting from the sore and irritated looking now open wounds on your back.

“It’s fine.” You said dismissively. The pain wasn’t bothering you. You needed to come up with a plan of how to know when they got here.

“It’s not. Sit down.” She insisted as she went for the medkit. She had gotten well-acquainted with the item over the months, the most recent incident in particular had really tested her skills.

You released a resigned sigh and sat across from her and let her start cleaning them and closing them up again.

“They’re coming here, Lyra.” You found yourself whispering into the silence.

Lyra paused her process. “You’ve been told that before. The same thing happened on Cermau a couple months ago and it didn’t pan out. You-”

“I know what happened on Cermau. This isn’t like that.” You said defensively. It had to be different. You thought to yourself. You weren’t sure how many more dead ends you could take.

Lyra finished up the last few stitches. “You can’t know that.”

As soon as you felt her complete that last stitch, you stood. “Yes, I can.” You grabbed your armour and strode had over to your room without another word and shut the door.

You braced your hands against it and took a few deep breaths. You did have a way you could do but it had been so long since you’d gone near it, and you didn’t know if you could cope with the failure it might bring.

You settled in the middle of your crappy bed, the mattress sinking to the bedframe beneath as you shifted around to attempt to find some level of comfort. When you had found what you figured would be the ‘best’ spot, you crossed your legs and placed your hands on your knees.

You inhaled slowly, deeply, blocking out all the distractions of your mind and the sounds of the late-night life outside, and closed your eyes. You reached into the Force but what met you wasn’t any familiar signature. It was scenes and voices that you had tried so hard to forget.

Flashes of the people you’d hurt… you’d killed.

All that happened to you a week ago.

Tech hanging below the rail car.

Plan 99.

Omega, unconscious and injured on the ground.

Such an exquisite creature.

The torture he made you go through... and enjoyed.

His words to Hunter- To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.

Omega being carried off.

Hemlock letting you and Hunter have one last goodbye before you were taken away.

I love you.

No, it was too much. You couldn’t do it. Your breathing was shaky as you tore yourself out. You wiped the cold sweat from your palms. “Come on, get it together.” You told yourself as you took a long calming breath. You needed to do this right.

You centred yourself and went again. Except this time, all you could see was a vast space of darkness. No light, no hope, only darkness. Was this to be your fate? To be tormented by the fact you had let yourself fall and there was nothing left for you. How could you find them in this? You had no light left in you to give.

Spark.

You felt yourself twitch in discomfort. You knew that voice. That name. Only one person ever called you that.

Spark, you’re still not focused.

Let go of your anger. You’re not as lost as you view yourself to be.

No, no it couldn’t be. How could it be? No, this wasn’t right. You pulled yourself out and you looked around your room in a blind panic as you fought to get your distressed breathing back under control.

But it was only you in there. How could you hear him? It had to be some trick your mind was playing on you. Payback for all you’d done.

You exhaled heavily and braced your hands behind your neck as you looked to the ceiling. You stood and paced the confined space, shaking your hands as if you could shake away the bad feeling sitting on your chest.

You sat back on the bed and rolled your shoulders as you found your focus again. Faint rays of sun now came through the cracks in your window along with the sound of rain pattering against the fractured glass, but the new time meant nothing to you.

You didn’t care how long it would take; you were going to find them.

Hunter and Wrecker walked out of the ship and departed the bay to enter the streets of Christophsis- the rain sliding down their armour as they moved between the crowds.

“Well, we’re in the right place.” Wrecker commented as he nudged Hunter in the direction of the first holoscreen that had your image appear and a quick look at the immediate buildings followed that theme since they all had multiple paper posters in their windows and on their doors.

Hunter swallowed tightly as he saw holographic picture of you. There’d been one too many ‘right places’ in his search for you. He wasn’t going to accept that philosophy until he had something more than a wanted sign for you. “Come on. We’ll start with Kendrin’s brother.”

“So, you’re saying you saw a figure head in that direction after the disturbance last night?” A trooper pointed in said direction as she questioned the current resident on her list whilst the rest of her squad proceeded to clear the pawnshop.

“This looks like her handiwork, Sarge.” Wrecker uttered from the corner of the street they were observing from as he studied the scene ahead. Squads of troopers had cornered off the street and where questioning the civilians that appeared to live in the neighbourhood. And being carried out on stretchers were the dead bodies of troopers, but not all had blaster burns on their armour.

Hunter nodded his agreement and felt his heart beat that little bit faster with the flutter of hope. “Come on, we can’t stay here too long.” He directed as he and Wrecker turned away from the pawnshop.

As Hunter began to track your movements based on what he’d heard the trooper say, this finally being the right location was starting to feel a lot more plausible now.

There it was! You saw that faint glimmer of light in all the dark. It had to be them! You could feel it!

You jumped from your bed and grabbed your top and armour, hastily putting them on as you opened your door and bolted for the exit.

The weather had taken a turn for the worst, but you barely registered the pouring rain as you left the building. Your clothes were already soaked but it didn’t matter, you were too focused on holding onto that feeling of them.

“You’re the Jedi everyone is searching for.”

You whipped out your blaster and turned in the direction of the voice.

“No, wait! I don’t mean you any harm!” She came out from behind the skip with her hands in the air. “My name is-”

“Don’t tell me.” You interrupted sharply as you studied the Twilek before you. “How’d you find me?” You asked coldly. You didn’t lower your blaster either.

“It wasn’t easy. I’ve been following you since I knew of your arrival here. I thought I’d lost you when you disappeared for those three weeks.”

The fact you hadn’t sensed her presence at all told you that you were not what you used to be. You never used to be so sloppy. “I can’t have you knowing where I am.” You rested your hand over the trigger.

“Wait!” She reached a hand out to you. “I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t. I just need your help!”

“My help?” You repeated. “I can’t help you and I’ve got somewhere to be so-”

“Please.” She begged. “My sister, she’s sick and we barely have enough credits to feed ourselves, let alone get medicine.”

“Not my problem, I’m sorry.” Satisfied though that she wasn’t a true threat, you put your blaster away and got ready to leave.

“It wasn’t my sister’s problem that she got caught in a blaster fight and her wound got infected! No one asks for that!”

That made you pause. You’d had your fair share of shootouts in this place but you’d also you’re your best to minimise the damage to outsiders. “Where was the fight?” You found yourself asking quietly.

“About a month ago by the old shipyard on the outskirts of the city. We’d been told we could find some cheap transport off world, but something went down with the Imperials stationed there and my sister… I didn’t tug her down fast enough. I didn’t know what to do and then I heard of the Jedi that had landed in Christophsis and I knew I had to find you.”

A month ago… but that was where and when you’d gone to sell the ship… where’d you’d first been ambushed by the Imperials… no, there wasn’t meant to be anyone else there. Maybe you could… no, you didn’t have the time. Your aim was always good, it wouldn’t have been your shot that hit her. “I can’t.” You said dismissively, but there was a fading sense of conviction in your voice. Some part of you wanted to do the right thing by her. But it wasn’t enough to stop you pushing past her.

“I thought Jedi helped people!”

You stopped in your tracks and made a noise of resigned frustration as you turned around to face the young Twilek. “Wait here.”

You hastily ran back into your building, silently entered, and grabbed a few spare medical supplies from your kit before you ran back out to meet her again. “Alright, show me.”

Your place looked like a luxurious penthouse compared to where this young twilek and her sister were staying. It was virtually a single room with cracks in the walls and ceiling and there was a distinct damp aroma in the air. It was no wonder that they wanted to leave this place.

You then saw the smaller and younger twilek lying on a small mattress in the middle of the floor. There were drops of sweat dotted across her brow and she was shivering uncontrollably.

You’d never wanted anyone innocent to be affected by what you were doing yet it had happened with Lyra and now this child. “I’m sorry.” You whispered to her as you kneeled down beside her. You saw the bloodstain on her clothing and delicately lifted the end of her shirt to see the wound on her hip being covered by nothing more than a ripped piece of a shirt.

“Can you help her?”

You half- turned to face the sister who was looking on fretfully. “I can clean the wound and reclose it. After that, it’ll be down to her. But the fact that she’d held on for so long is a good sign. She’s strong, she should be okay.”

The sister sighed in relief.

You brought out the supplies and recleaned and applied to bacta before you re-dressed the wound. “Do you have water?” You asked.

The sister nodded and dashed over to grab a cannister. She passed it to you.

“Lift her head.” You instructed gently.

She murmured words of comfort to her sister as she propped up her head.

As tenderly but as effectively as you could, you pushed the pill past her lips and got her to swallow it down with some water.

When her breathing had grown more controlled and her shivering had subsided, you go to your feet. “I’m leaving you some bacta and wound dressings along with some pills that’ll help with the fever. That’s all I can do now.”

“Thank you.” She clasped your hand tightly. “I won’t forget this.”

“It’s better that you do.” You said grimly. “And once she’s better, if you still need a way out of here, use the actual transports off this planet.” You chucked a bag of credits on the ground before you walked out of the room.

You rounded the corner but swiftly pressed your back against the wall since there was a group of stormtroopers directly in your path. You would have no chance of finding them with those soldiers in your way. You needed to find a way around them and what better way to do that than going from roof to roof. You summoned the Force and jumped to the top of the building and got moving.

You would get a better view from above anyway.

When another small squad of troopers made their presence known ahead, Hunter signalled him and Wrecker to an alleyway out of the line of their sight. He knew they were close to you, but the Imperial presence was making it hard to track you effectively.

“We can’t keep hiding like this, Hunter.” Wrecker grunted in frustration.

“I know, Wrecker.” Hunter agreed, equally as irritated. “If I could just-” He stopped suddenly.

“Hunter?”

“Someone’s here.” Hunter muttered quietly as his hand fell over his blaster.

“You’re getting sloppy, Sergeant. I’ve been following you the past 3 blocks.”

The voice that he’d been longing to hear and that was so familiar, he’d recognise it anywhere. His breath hitched with the realisation at what this finally meant. Hunter took off his helmet and turned around to the distant sound of feet hitting a puddle in the ground. And it was you. Standing there before him. It was finally you.

“Hello, Hunter.” You said softly, so softly you could barely hear the words themselves due to the sound of your own heart thundering in your ears. If it wasn’t for the flash of recognition in his eyes or the way Wrecker’s jaw dropped as he propped his helmet atop his head, you wouldn’t have been certain that you’d said anything at all. You tugged down your coverings and let yourself be unprotected to the rain.

He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Hunter dropped his helmet and something akin to a choked gasp fell from his mouth as he could at long last lay his eyes on you. He started to slowly walk towards you but that soon became a run, water kicking up against him, but he didn’t care.

Your feet slapped against the wet ground as you met him halfway and crashed into his arms with a thankful sigh and buried your face in his neck. Even as you held him tightly to you, part of you still couldn’t believe that it was him. You felt something swell in your heart, a feeling you couldn’t place but knew you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Did you deserve this? Did you deserve to have him back after all you’d done? Pushing the thought away, you readjusted your embrace as if you could somehow hold him even closer.

He twisted his hands in your clothing and breathed you in. He’d imagined this moment for so long. When things seemed too dark and hopeless, he’d clung on to this. To think about how it would feel to finally see you again. To hold you again. And imagination couldn’t compare to the utter joy in his heart that reality brought him. He almost didn’t want to let you go for fear that you could be taken away again but practicality took precedence, the two of you couldn’t stay this way forever, as much as he might want to.

Tears mixed with rain streamed down both your cheeks as you parted from one another.

You cupped his face in your hands. “You’re here? You’re actually here?” You murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. You’d driven yourself crazy with picturing this moment, you needed to make sure this wasn’t your brain’s idea of a cruel joke.

Hunter removed your hands from his face and kissed your gloved knuckles. “I’m here.” He whispered back, his breathing still shaky as he pressed pressing his forehead into yours.

“You’re here.” You repeated as you looked into his soft brown eyes.

Hunter’s thumb gently caressed the cut on your lip, and he noticed the other wound on your nose. “Did they-”

You pulled his hand away. “Doesn’t matter. This is all I care about right now.”

Before Hunter could push the matter, he felt his brother approach.

“And what about me?”

You glanced past Hunter to the indignant but affectionate voice. “Hi, Wrecker.” You met his open armed invitation and let him swing your around as he hugged you.

“Good to see you, (Y/N)!”

“How’d you find me?” You asked as he placed you back down.

“You didn’t make it easy.” Wrecker griped. “We always seemed to be two steps behind you.”

“I haven’t exactly been hiding though.” You disputed as you pointed to a discarded wanted poster on the ground beside you.

“Between the Imperials and dead end leads and your rather annoying ability to hide in plain sight, it was tough. We got a lucky break with a guy whose brother owned another pawn shop here. Saw the results of a fight and figured we’d finally caught up with you.” Hunter explained as he came to stand in front of you and took his helmet from his brother.

You gulped. You’d be careful to make sure the people you’d gone after had no one they’d be leaving behind. You didn’t realise you’d messed up with that this time. “He- he had a brother?”

Hunter tilted his head at the unusually emotive response. “Apparently but I’m assuming you had a good reason for ending it the way you did.”

You coughed. “Yeah, totally.” You straightened your back and changed the subject. “Where’s Echo?”

“Using his contact to try to get more intel on Hemlock. We still don’t know where he’s holding Omega.” Hunter kicked the ground. “Don’t suppose you have anything?”

“I wish I did but everything I gathered was either old or what we knew already. He’s good at laying low.” You seethed.

“We’ll get him, though. We have too.” Wrecker stated firmly.

“How soon can you leave?” Hunter asked.

“Um, well-” You cut yourself off as your sight drifted past Hunter’s shoulder to the end of the alley at the lone trooper that had a blaster pointed at Hunter’s back.

“Watch out!” You yelled as you pushed Hunter out the way of the incoming blaster bolt. You drew your blaster and fired a shot that landed in the centre of the trooper’s chest, and he dropped to the ground. But you knew, where there was one stormtrooper, there would be at least five more behind them.

“We need to move out.” Hunter urged as he got back to his feet and put his helmet on. “A firefight will draw too much attention.”

“No time.” You stated simply as you pulled your hood and mask back up.

“We’ve got more incoming!” Wrecker confirmed as he lowered his helmet and opened fire on the small squad of troopers that had arrived.

The three of you took cover behind a skip, only firing defensive shots back. You needed to draw the soldiers closer before going on the offensive.

When they had gotten close enough, Hunter threw a smoke bomb, the action allowing the three of you to advance and take out the troopers one shot at a time.

As the firefight continued, however, you began to feel unsteady on your feet and your movements felt unbalanced. Your tingling limbs ensured that your aim was skewed too. All that, combined with the wetness you felt pooling from your stomach meant the trooper had better aim than you credited them for- you’d been hit. You couldn’t afford to think about what this meant, right now, you needed to get outta here.

But you’d been distracted long enough for one downed soldier you’d dismissed as being a threat to come around and jab their blaster against your knee. You grunted with the impact but turned your blaster on him and he lay limp on the ground.

Hunter and Wrecker tidied off the few retreating stragglers. They could deal with this small group but anything more would prove difficult.

With the last trooper taken care of, you braced yourself against the wet wall. The fading adrenaline in your system now being replaced by agony and you ripped your mask down and took deep but laboured breaths.

“Their reinforcements won’t be long. We made a bit of noise.” Wrecker said as he holstered his blaster.

But Hunter wasn’t paying attention to what Wrecker was saying. His gaze was fixed on you and the way you were struggling to hold yourself up against the wall. “(Y/N), what-” He stopped as he saw the crimson drops that mixed with the rainwater drip from the hand pressed to your stomach onto the ground. No, no, no. He thought to himself. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose you when he’d only just found you again.

Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground, Hunter catching your shoulder was the only reason you were able to stay sitting up but without the distraction of the fight, the pain was overwhelming. Black spots danced in the corners of your vision, but you couldn’t succumb to them, not now. Not after all this. You tried to lift your head to speak but all that left your mouth was a tortured groan.

As collected as he wanted to be to deal with this, he couldn’t totally keep his panic at bay. His hands trembled as he attempted to get you to look at him. He delicately brushed some loose strands of hair from your face. “Sshh, I’ve got you.” He whispered tenderly, fighting to keep the worry out of his voice. What made it all the worse was that he knew this wound didn’t occur through the fight they’d just seen out, you’d been hurt shoving him out the way of that first shot that drew the rest of the stormtroopers in.

How could he have allowed this to happen? What good were his enhanced senses if he couldn’t protect the people he loved. You shouldn’t have needed to push him out the way of that blaster bolt, he should’ve known the trooper was there and now you were paying the price for his mistake.

“What can we do?” Wrecker asked quickly.

You winced and tried for words again. “Medical centres are a no. Where’s- where’s the ship?”

“Landing bay 6.” Wrecker replied.

You inhaled sharply. Your current state made things all too easy for the Imperials to catch you making your way there. “Too far. We- we gotta get to my place. She- she might kill me but- argh!” You broke off with a cry of pain as you reached a hand up to Hunter. “But it’s safe there and- and she’ll know what to do.”

“Hold on.” Hunter rasped as he took a grip of your forearm and signalled to Wrecker to keep an eye out as he pulled you to your feet.

You pressed your hand into your side with a pained gasp as Hunter put his arm around you and supported most of your weight and the three of you got on the move.

“This is it?” Wrecker asked- his scepticism evident despite the pressing matter at hand- as he stared at the condemned building.

“All the regular penthouses were taken.” You kidded before you swayed on your feet as a wave of dizziness struck.

“Woah, easy.” Hunter cautioned as he strengthened his grip.

“Second floor.” You hissed. “And mind the fourth step on the second staircase. Half of it is missing.”

“It can never just be simple.” Hunter grumbled anxiously as Wrecker opened the decrepit door to the building.

“Would it really be a reunion if everything went well?” You joked deliriously.

“Right now, yes I would definitely prefer it.” Hunter fretted as he saw your head dip. You were losing the battle of staying conscious with each passing second. The next time it happened, he wasn’t sure you would be able to lift your head again.

Lyra had barely any time to process the familiar people standing in her doorway as she answered the pounding knock. All she could do was stare at you, half collapsed against Hunter’s side, your hand cradling your stomach, and then her eyes caught sight of the trail of blood that had followed your path up. “What-”

“Hey, girl. Remember- remember how I promised I wouldn’t put you through something like this again? Turns out, I shouldn’t- shouldn’t have done that.” You said through gritted teeth before you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward, prompting Hunter to lift you up.

“Please.” The hoarse plea was all Hunter managed to say.

“Lay her here.” Lyra quickly stepped aside to let the three of you in and pointed to the couch.

Hunter hustled inside and delicately placed you on the worn soft. He took off his helmet and kneeled by your head and stroked your hair back from your forehead. “You’re going to be alright. You need to hold on for me, okay? I’m not losing you again.” He whispered against your temple before he left a light kiss on your brow.

“Good news, it’s not as bad as last time.” Lyra said as she examined the wound before getting up to go gather the medical supplies.

“The bar is rather low on that front, Lyra.” You moaned.

“Last time?” Hunter found himself asking as he tore his stare from your bloody injury to Lyra.

Lyra didn’t respond, she was too busy staring at the depleted supply of medical care. She took a deep breath and braced her hands against the countertop. “(Y/N)… what happened to the bacta?”

Seemingly forgetting that you were currently in severe pain and bleeding out, you went to prop yourself up but Hunter’s hand gently pushing against your shoulder stopped you. “Hey.” You protested wearily.

“You can answer the question like that.” Hunter chastised.

“The bacta?” Lyra pressed as she rifled through the other cupboards in case it had somehow been misplaced.

No, not yet. You told yourself as the black dots returned. You blinked them away and took a strained breath before you answered. “I- I may have given it away…”

“You-” Lyra had to take a deep, calming breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You gave it away? What in all the galaxy would possess you to do that?”

“Well, I saw someone in need and decided-” You broke off with another pained wince. “Decided to finally be a good citizen.”

Lyra released an exasperated sigh. “Do I need to remind you of your track record? You need bacta like the rest of us need water.”

“In my defence, I wasn’t planning on needing it anymore. This- this time really wasn’t my fault.”

“I quite frankly don’t give a fuck! You can’t just-”

“Can we do this later?” Hunter interrupted as he saw your face contort in discomfort. “Preferably when she’s able to hold a conversation without convulsing in pain?”

“I can run back to our ship and get some.” Wrecker offered as he lifted his helmet.

“Go.” Hunter said with a nod, but Lyra held out a hand to stop the bigger clone from going.

“She doesn’t have that kinda time. I can cauterise it the old-fashioned way, but it’ll just hurt like hell.” Lyra said with a grimace.

“That’s fine because I don’t think I’m going to be conscious for much longer.” The darkness encroaching on your vision was all too tempting and you were completely exhausted.

“No, you stay awake.” Lyra ordered sternly.

Hunter and Wrecker turned their attention sharply to you.

“Come on, (Y/N). You gotta hang in there.” Wrecker urged as he reached over the back of the couch and placed a large hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, keep your eyes on me.” Hunter begged as he saw them flicker open and shut but it was a battle that he knew you were going to lose.

You wanted to; you really did but you just couldn’t. You shut your eyes and embraced the peace of the darkness.

“Hunter, she’s still breathing right?” Lyra asked as she picked up the last few things she needed.

“Shallowly but yes.” Hunter said with a thankful sigh.

“That’s good enough.” Lyra ran back to the couch and began to start to process of stabilising you.

You were in a dim corridor. The only light seemed to at the end of the long passageway. You made to walk towards it, hoping it would show you a way out but as you walked, it seemed to move away from you. You broke into a run but the distance between you and the light only grew. You paused your run as you thought about what this could mean. It was then though that a voice spoke up and a figure appeared next to you.

You won’t get to it.

You faced the figure. It almost sounded and looked like you but there was something off about it. There was a yellow shimmer in the eyes and the face was gaunt and mean-looking, with lips that seemed to be in a permanent sneer. The voice carried a cruel, sinister overtone that made your blood run cold and the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

It’ll keep staying away from you.

But why? You studied whatever it was before you as they circled you. When it walked, it was cast in constant shadow.

You think after all you’ve done; you can have that light back? You think you deserve it?

Before you could form a reply, your attention was drawn to a scene unfolding to your right.

Aww this was your first failure. But it brought me to the surface, so I remain pretty grateful.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the moment. You saw your master completely surrounded by battle droids, taking hit after hit. And you saw yourself as a Jedi Knight sprinting to reach him. You went to turn away, but a strong hand grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you to keep looking.

There’s you. Being too late to save him. Do you remember the last words you said to him?

You did and they were words you had regretted ever since.

‘Stubborn, foolish, out of touch, old timer whose only purpose was to be a pawn for the orders of the Jedi Council’ I believe they were.

Stop it.

He died knowing you failed him.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the final shot that sent your master crumbling to the ground.

You got a taste for it then.

Despite the fact you wanted to refuse, you found yourself opening your eyes to seeing yourself utterly decimate the remaining droids by your master’s dead body. You saw the merciless gleam in your eyes and the callous smile that graced your face as you destroyed them. You had enjoyed that. The scene finished with you repeatedly bringing your lightsaber down on the final droid, the blue blade moving in unrestrained fury. Why did you show me that? You asked bleakly.

But the darkness didn’t give you a proper answer. It only pushed an icy finger on your lips. Pay attention, we’re not done yet. It took you a while to accept that this was always in you. You worked on shutting me out. You managed for a while… but then she left.

You wanted nothing more than to leave this place and this darkness before you, but all control had been taken from your body. Your feet began moving of their own accord and you were directed to another moment on your left this time. You were stopped and the hand took a harsh grip of your neck again. You were forced to watch Ahsoka walk out the Council Chamber doors, with Anakin following her and then you viewed yourself in horror as you saw the rage written across your face and heard the venom in your words as you yelled at the Council. Had you really been that uncontrolled? That angry?

Even though you finally left those uptight pricks, you still insisted on keeping me hidden though. Rather irritating I must say. I wondered what it would take for you to accept me. And then he came into your life.

You were pushed along the hall again to the next part which was replaying your first interaction with Hunter and your chest felt tight. Leave him out of this.

Oh, but he’s the best part. Your figure taunted nastily.

The scene switched and were now being greeted with flashes of your intimate moments with Hunter. Enough.

The only reply came in the form was an unkind laugh.

Giving into that lust felt good, didn’t it? The possessiveness, the selfishness that came with having someone just for you was too enticing to pass up.

No, that wasn’t what it was at all. Stop.

You liked the feeling of knowing you could use that attachment to excuse any darker actions. You would be doing it for him, so it made it okay. It wasn’t love for him you were feeling, it was a love for the freedom to channel me that you craved. He was merely a convenient vessel.

No, you’re wrong! You insisted but your voice lacked conviction, everything was getting so twisted that you were now doubting the feelings you thought you never would.

The darkness just gave you a pitying look. Just keep watching and you’ll see I’m right.

So, you did. You were shoved further up the corridor to see you and the Batch together. Memories that you once would’ve looked back on in fondness were now tainted by pain and disappointment that you’d dragged them into your mess. The darkness took no notice of your distress, it just continued talking.

Much to my delight, you grew to care for all of that group. I knew that attachment would lead to something marvellous for us and then it finally happened.

You moved along to the next scene and your breathing grew uneven as the image of Eriadu appeared. You couldn’t bear seeing this again but once more, you were left with no choice but to hear Tech say that dreaded plan and watch him fall to his death.

Of course, he was another one you were too slow to save but-

You wouldn’t hear this. No, we didn’t have the time. There was nothing I could’ve done. What happened was-

Oh, I know you tried telling yourself that, but my very existence tells me that you know if you’d allowed me in earlier, the situation itself wouldn’t have happened. You’d have killed Gerrera before he even had a chance to set those explosives off.

No, you’re wrong. You said through a shaken whisper, but you didn’t believe the words you were saying anymore.

Although I must say, I’m glad you didn’t quite give in then since I am rather pleased with how it all turned out. His death was the catalyst to a glorious chain of events. So much loss and broken trust. Finally, you had the reason to welcome me without restraint or regret.

You felt your anger rise as the voice kept talking whilst the scene changed from his death to Cid’s betrayal and Omega being captured and you being separated from Hunter. Nothing about that had been a blessing. It couldn’t have been. Shut up. You snarled. But the figure only smugly beamed.

There it is. There’s that power. You can deny it all you want but that was the best thing that happened to you. You let me in and from that point on, nothing stopped you getting what you wanted. And it felt divine. You know it did. Look at how formidable you are with me being a part of things.

You were dragged along the hall and all that appeared around you were the people in the galaxy you’d threatened, brutalised, and murdered. You had no other option but to watch and hear their tortured pleas and screams. You didn’t need the darkness to talk you through these this time, you recalled very clearly that during all of this, you’d felt not one bit of remorse. You’d thought they deserved it. You’d fallen so far, and a way back now seemed impossible.

The darkness commented on a particular time where you were torturing a woman who’d been very difficult to track and get information from. Even when you did find her, she’d been loyal to the Empire, insisting you should’ve died with the rest of the Jedi traitors. You’d responded by cracking the individual bones in her fingers and hands before moving up to the bones in her arm. You’d broken her right clavicle before she’d finally told you what you needed to know. I particularly liked this moment. Do you remember how she couldn’t stand afterwards? All she could do was writhe on the floor in agony. Quite a humorous sight.

You remembered them all and it made you feel sick to your stomach now as you watched the endless stream of tormented and pained faces of people you had tortured and killed in your quest for information.

The last scene disappeared and despite the fact you had been walking along the corridor that whole time, the light had still remained far out of reach.

See? No matter how far you go, you’ll never reach that light. Why bother searching for it anymore? You know you’re better off alone. All you need is this power and you’ll be unstoppable. But since I know some part of you still cares for your clones, don’t trouble them with this. It’s not something that can be shared or fixed.

The figure faded and you collapsed to your knees in defeat. You had succumbed to that darkness and hurt and killed too many people. You’d crossed that line, and you weren’t sure there was a way back for you and you wouldn’t take Hunter down with you. Or Wrecker and Echo. They deserved a chance to rescue Omega and set things right, and if being with Hunter meant that chance would be at risk, you wouldn’t take that from them. Even if it would kill you, it would be the last thing you did to protect your family. ‘No attachments. There is no emotion, there is peace.’ You had to finally listen to that part of the Jedi Code that you had fought against for years and… and you would let them go.

Once it seemed things were more under control, Wrecker broke the quiet. “I’m going to go keep watch.” He said before walking out.

There were a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the quiet hiss of Lyra sealing shut your injury now that she’d cleaned it.

“Didn’t know you had this skill set.” Hunter said into the quiet as he watched Lyra.

“I tell myself it’s not so different from stitching and making clothes. Plus, she kinda made it that I had to learn quick. There were just some things she couldn’t handle on her own.”

There was a dip in conversation again.

“I was sorry to hear about your kid... and Tech.” Lyra said quietly as she worked on you. She placed a bandage over your now closed injury and started to put away the medical supplies.

The mention of his brother’s name had him stiffening his posture. “Yeah, well, we’re going to find her.”

Lyra nodded understandingly before she indicated to you. “She’s been non-stop since Ord Mantell. She wouldn’t rest until she found you. Didn’t matter how dangerous things got, she wouldn’t stop.”

Hunter continued to stroke your brow. “She’s not the only one.”

“I almost wished she would. I thought the search was going to kill her. Especially after what happened last time.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned this now. And from the dynamic between the two of you since arriving here, he figured there was key subtext he was missing. He glanced over to Lyra. “What are you talking about?”

Lyra took a short breath. “It was a few weeks ago. She-” Lyra stopped as she heard you let out a soft groan.

“Hey you.” Hunter said softly as you slowly opened your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You didn’t answer him. Whatever soreness you were experiencing wouldn’t come close to the misery your next course of action would cause you. “Thank you. Again.” You said to Lyra instead.

Lyra nodded. “I’ll go keep Wrecker company.” She said before grabbing her sniper rifle and making her exit.

Hunter brought his focus back to you and provided a supportive hand on your back as you sat up. “Take as long as you need. I figured once you’re feeling more up to it, you can say your goodbyes and leave with us. After-”

“You have to go.”

“Yes, I know…” Hunter said, tilting his head at you. “But you need a bit of time and-”

“No, you need to leave without me.”

Without you? No, you couldn’t mean that. “What’s-” He stopped for a moment to try and recover from the confusion your statement caused him. “What’s changed between that alleyway and now?”

You knew he wasn’t going to make this easy but every minute you had to do this was tearing you apart. “Everything has. The Empire knows what I am. It’ll add unnecessary heat.”

“We’ll cope.”

You swallowed harshly and grimaced as you readjusted your sitting position. “It’s not just that. Things changed when we got separated. I changed.”

“That doesn’t scare me.”

“It should. All I’ve done…” You trailed off and gulped. “I’m not who I used to be.”

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. But we can-”

“Hunter, I don’t belong with you anymore.”

Hunter couldn’t accept that. “You’re one of us. You always have been. Since the first moment you stepped in front of those droids on Devaron, you were one of us. I don’t understand why-”

“There’s someone else.” You blurted out and fuck you hated yourself for it. You knew by the way he recoiled from you and from deep hurt and betrayal that flashed across his face, you would’ve been better off hitting him. You knew you had to hurt him. Even if he left hating you, you could find a way to let him go. But you hated that you had to do it.

“There’s someone else.” Hunter repeated quietly, his throat bobbing as he kept his voice tight.

You had to push it. It was the only way, but it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you said the next words. You forced yourself to keep your voice cold and level. “I’ve moved on. I only needed to know that you were alive. And now I do. You can go now. Just leave and don’t think about me again. It’ll save us all a lot of bother.” You couldn’t face the wounded look in his eyes and you turned your own away from him and had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.

Hunter clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that again.” He implored.

He knew you too well. You wouldn’t do it. If you did, he would know you were lying. So, you opted for something worse- you would manipulate his heart. “If any part of you still cares about me, you will go. That’s all I want now. I need you to leave. You’ll only be hurting me more if you stay.” You said firmly as you faced him again.

You sounded so sure, and even if he thought he could see something in your eyes that took the conviction out of your words, he’d never want to cause you pain, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Better him be the one to take the hurt, no matter how unnatural it felt, no matter how much every fibre of his being yearned to stay by your side and work this out. So, Hunter got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Every part of me still cares about you.” He murmured back to you before the door opened and he walked out. He was walking out on you- something he thought he’d never do- and it left him feeling like he had a gaping hole in his chest.

As you heard the door shut, a broken sob left your lips and you let the tears fall.

“Where is she?” Lyra asked as Hunter came out from the door behind them.

“Keep her alive.” Hunter said numbly to Lyra before he walked away.

“Hunter-” Lyra started to say but the clone wasn’t stopping.

“Eh, well, I guess it was nice to see you.” Wrecker said hurriedly before he darted after his brother.

“Bye.” Lyra said with confusion as she watched the two clones go. She turned to go back inside and hopefully knock some sense into you.

You’d managed to drag yourself into the sanctity of your room, but the isolation wasn’t helping things. The regret you were feeling was overwhelming but what was done was done. You needed to stand by your choice, it was what was best for them, you just needed to learn how to cope. You needed something, anything, to distract your brain from the self-doubt running rampant in your head so, staying mindful of your wound, you tentatively sat back on your bed and closed your eyes, drowned out the pouring rain smacking against the glass, and found your centre again.

Not to your surprise, you were only surrounded by darkness. You’d let the last light in your life go, there was nothing left for you now.

Spark.

Not that voice. Not again, you couldn’t handle that. “No, I’m not doing this.”

Yes, you are. You need to listen to me, Spark.

You sighed and saw the figure of your old master appear in the vast space before you. “So, either I somehow took a turn and I’m dead or I’m hallucinating.”

Your master simply chuckled. Must it always be extremes with you?

“You taught me what I know, you tell me.”

Well, based off your past choices, I would say you’ve forgotten much of what I taught you.

“This is why you’re in my head? To lecture me about my choices? Yes, I broke the code, big whoop. I never liked it anyway. And now I’ve given into the dark side, sorry to have disappointed you.” You grumbled as you looked down at your feet.

He sighed. It hurt him to see you look so defeated, this wasn’t the young Jedi he’d raised. Evidently, you were going to need more help than he expected. This isn’t some meditative trick. I’ve always been with you, Spark, and now I’m with you because you need help. You’ve strayed from your path, and you need guidance.

“You’re a few months too late, Master.” The title came back into your vocabulary so naturally, you’d nearly missed the fact that you’d reverted back to your student/teacher dynamic so quickly.

That defeat you’re feeling is exactly why I’m here now. This dark side you seem to think is your destiny is not decided, but if you continue to stand by the decision that you just made, it will be. There’s a chance for you, Spark, don’t throw it away.

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him. “If you’ve truly been around for all of this, you’ll know what I’ve done. You’ve seen what I’ve become. I wasn’t as strong I thought I was.”

You haven’t fallen yet. He reiterated. What you’ve gone through would wreck most people, the fact that you’ve only strayed from the light now is a credit to you. But this choice you’ve made to let them go is what will seal your fate.

“What are you talking about? I was on this path long before what happened on Ord Mantell. I saw it!” You said, your voice rising in frustration and distress. Why was everyone around you so insistent that you could heal from this? You’d shown your true colours years ago, you were only doing what you were obviously meant for.

He raised his hands to calm you. Spark, listen to me. You’re not-

“I had to let him go! I had to let them all go! You should be glad, Master! I’m finally following the teaching you worked so hard on getting through to me!” Your breathing grew more uneven and the word that left your mouth were filled with self-loathing, but you couldn’t stop them. “I’m damaged goods, I have been from the beginning, and I couldn’t bring him down with me! I couldn’t bring any of them down with me!” You felt tears slide down your cheeks as the emotion you had been trying to hard to push down came crashing to the surface.

And is letting attachments go part of the Jedi or Sith philosophy? He asked gently.

His genteel manner caught you off guard. You huffed out a quick breath. “Why does that matter?”

Answer the question, please.

You released an agitated sigh. “Jedi, I guess but-”

And let me ask you this, you said you saw what you’ve done? How?

You regained some composure. “I don’t know how to describe what it was I saw, but whatever it was took me down a lovely stroll through memory lane and I saw what I was. There’s no denying it now.”

It was starting to make sense to him now and with this new understanding, he finally knew the best way to help you. Yes, the dark side can be very manipulative that way. Especially when it knows there’s been pain plenty of pain and sorrow. It preys upon that and I’m just sorry it got to you before I could.

“What are you talking about?”

What you saw, it wasn’t the whole truth.

Not the whole truth? “What do you mean?”

He looked at you with intrigue. What do you think I mean?

You inhaled deeply to find some patience. “Master, please. I’m not your padawan anymore.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement. You’ll always be my padawan, Spark. But I understand this may not be the best time for one of my lessons.

Despite everything, the nostalgia his teaching persona brought you had you humming out a quiet laugh. “I guess working together on whatever cryptic lesson you’re going to impart on me will be fine, for old times sake if nothing else. Just don’t leave it all to me. I’m not clear-headed enough to do all the thinking.”

He nodded and smiled knowingly at you. It will be less cryptic that the lessons I used to give you. Let us begin.

You knew that gleam in his eye and you forgot that no matter how agitated or frustrated you’d been growing up as his pupil, he’d always found a way to put you at ease and you’d been more open to learning again. Even dead, he still seemed to possess that ability. And it was because of that, you found yourself getting ready to welcome whatever wisdom he felt could get you out of this hell you’d put yourself in.

Now, I understand that you are feeling a lot of guilt and self-loathing, correct?

Feeling it? You felt like you were drowning in it.

And you have convinced yourself that your clones, particularly… Hunter, isn’t it? He waited for your nod before continuing, are better off without you because you’ve done too much. Stepped over that line one too many times? A lost cause, yes?

“I guess you could say that.” You mumbled.

He hummed in thought before he spoke again. You mentioned something about you were this way from the beginning. Can you tell me to which beginning you are referring to?

You inhaled shakily. “I- I saw you die again. I watched myself destroy the rest of those droids in undisciplined rage and- and I was reminded of what I’d said to you.”

Ah yes, that was quite the day. Rather humiliating on my part, I must say. I should’ve just listened to you from the start. My we exchanged some choice words. He ruminated with a small chuckle.

You remembered him having a rather dry sense of humour, but this just seemed absurd. You’re laughing about this?! I was awful to you! I saw you die and all I could do was wreak havoc on a group of droids and I enjoyed it! I held your dead body in my arms and the last thing I had done was insult you and forget everything you’d taught me for some fucking battle droids!”

He held up his hands to appease you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have laughed but that wasn’t quite how it went.

You furrowed your brow. “What? I saw it! I remember it pretty clearly, even without the reminder. I’m haunted by it and you’re telling me that wasn’t what happened?!”

He shook his head. Not quite. Remember, the dark side has a remarkable ability to alter events to fit its needs. It only picks out the moments necessary to draw out those darker emotions. What you saw was true, from a certain point of view, but it didn’t show you everything.

“Then what am I missing?” You asked, desperation in your voice because if there was anything that could help ease the ache from that day, you needed it.

I wasn’t dead when I hit the ground. Fret not, no amount of medical attention would’ve saved me. He interjected hastily as he saw the panic that graced your face. Although the sadder truth is I did in fact die in your arms but… He angled his head to catch your eye again as you had shied away from him upon hearing that. He started again, but your last words to me were not fuelled by irritation or cruelty, you apologised for what you said as well as how you handled those droids. You told me that I was the best teacher you’d ever had, and you promised you would continue to work on what I taught you and to make me proud. That was the last thing you said to me before I passed on. And I can honestly say, Spark, that you kept your promise, despite how it might seem currently.

You went to speak but found that you didn’t have the words. All these years spent being tormented by a memory that in fact had another side to it, could that be right? Seeing it again had made it seem all the more true but there was nothing but sincerity in his face and voice as he told you this. He wasn’t looking to feed you a false narrative, there was no vindictiveness in his tone.

You don’t have to believe me immediately, I know things have been tough but we’re going to go through this and I’m going to help you see the truth, okay? He said tenderly.

You could only nod.

Okay. He straightened up. I’m going to make an educated guess and say that if that incident was the starting point, the next situation would’ve been that unfortunate time with Ahsoka and the Jedi Council and also the day you decided to leave?

You gulped and found your voice again. “Um, yeah.”

And I expect you were shown yourself in an untamed rage with little concern over the words you used?

You gave a stiff nod of your head.

Uh huh, well, once again, you were shown a manipulated memory created from shame. You were unhappy, and I can’t say I blame you, they really fucked that up if you pardon the phrase.

You couldn’t help but snort at his gentlemanly manner and you were reminded of the many telling offs for language you’d received growing up.

And while you were disappointed in them and frustrated, you never lost control of yourself. Your voice was raised but level. You were clear in your points, and you never said anything untoward save for some unsavoury language sprinkled in. He watched you impart the familiar eye roll as he said that last statement, but he took that as a positive sign. Your attachment to Ahsoka didn’t cloud your judgment, your decision to leave was made with a steady heart and a focused head. And I watched you do it and I knew it was the best decision for you. It did set things in motion, but they were good things for you, Spark, and it’s important that you realise that again. He looked at you earnestly.

You held his gaze, and, in his eyes, you saw the master that had been with you through thick and thin. The master that had put up with your questions and doubts about the Jedi Order that the Jedi Council could hardly tolerate. You saw the master that had mentored you and fought by your side for years. He was one of the people that had known you best. He wouldn’t lie to you, and you felt your heart opening up to what he was saying to you.

Shall we continue? He asked after giving you a minute to process.

You shook your shoulders and exhaled heavily before you looked at him and give him a single, firm nod.

He had taken you through various events bit by bit. Pointing out that elements that demonstrated you were still being pulled towards the light. Things like you would’ve either left or killed Lyra the second she’d gotten you out of Ord Mantell and her use was over. Things like you wouldn’t have offered so many opportunities for people to talk to you before you injured or killed them, you would have hurt them first and asked questions later- killing and pain had never been your first port of call. And any firefight that ensued, when possible, you made sure you remained the primary target and civilians would be out of harms way.

Concern for others and worry about the consequences of your actions… Sith and dark side users tend not to feel or allow for these things. He surmised.

Even if what he was revealing to you was the whole picture, there was still the pressing matter of how you’d been in the recent months. “But Eriadu and everything that followed after… I let something in, what was it if not the dark side?”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. You had never experienced loss and betrayal in such quick succession before. What you let in was the anger and anguish you were feeling which you weren’t trained to handle properly. The more you went on, the more those emotions twisted your brain which allowed the darkness to creep in and make it more effortless to act on said emotions. It was easier for you to get what you needed with your emotions being what they were, and you didn’t have to think about who was getting hurt. You got a rather bad case of tunnel vision- you were doing bad things for good reasons, but they were not senseless acts of violence.

“But I have done so many bad things.” You said with self-directed disgust.

Yes, but what you can do now is work towards finding that line again. To finding that control you had in the past. You’ve been on that path since this morning, the self-awareness of what you’ve been doing wasn’t present in the months before today. However, you cannot get back to that place alone anymore, you’ve changed since you left the Order and most of it was for the better, but more attachment means more support. You will not be able to find that balance if you let your family go. He said with a sense of urgency. He needed you to grasp what he was telling you, no matter how unnatural it might feel.

Your pulse quickened. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was? “What are you saying, Master?”

Do you know where your nickname originated?

Confused as you why this was suddenly relevant, you angled your head at him. “I always figured it was because word spread that I made my lightsaber slightly wrong the first time and nearly set it on fire when I first ignited it.”

He chortled. That acted more as a visual aid and a helpful addition to the true origin.

“Then where did it come from?”

He took a deep breath. In the weeks leading up to the time for us to choose a youngling to take under our wing, you caught my eye from the start. It wasn’t just your natural ability with a lightsaber or your quick grasp of the Force, it was how you interacted with the people around you. During the trials, you had a heightened care for how the others were performing and you aided them whenever you could without a second thought. It made you more focused, more effective. You were unique from your peers in that sense and in a way that I’d never seen before, and I knew I had to get to know you more to understand what it was I was picking up on.

“Yeah, I remember. I’d never expected someone to choose me so eagerly, especially since my disciplinary record was far from perfect, even at that age.” Youreminisced with a sigh.

Yes, my fellow Jedi were surprised at my decision, but there was just something within you I had to see for myself. As we got to understand each other and I could officially begin your training, I watched you continue to demonstrate this quality and I could feel it residing in the Force within you. You had this spark, this fire that drove you which would worry even the most disciplined Jedi Masters but with you, it was as much a part of you as the Force was with the rest of us. You were completely at peace with it, and it was something you probably didn’t realise was so rare. You could feel attachment without rejecting the light side of the Force to do so.

So, the name made a bit more sense after all these years, but you still couldn’t see why this was being brought up. “Okay…”

He could tell you were still hesitant to all this. Do you know which General had the most victories with the fewest casualty numbers? Quite a feat to have during war time I might add.

You huffed a heavy breath from your lips. “I have no idea. The war was such a mess and there were so many of us that it was hard to keep up with the results of each battle.”

Fair point. He conceded, but that doesn’t change the answer which is that it was you.

You were taken aback for a moment before you thought back to that period and part of it did make sense. Many of your strategies had seen you take on the most dangerous elements for the sake of the clones in your battalion despite protests from them, your master and pretty much everyone that was involved, but all that mattered to you was that they worked, and you did what you could to protect everyone else.

He knew you enough to recognise that face and he figured whatever it was you were thinking about would relate to his next question. And which General had the most visits to the medical wing? Another impressive award. He added with a hint of disapproval, his mask of control slipping slightly as he frowned at the memories of the countless notifications he’d receive of your admittance to the healing wards of the Jedi Temple.

You cringed as you remembered the fact you had been on a first name basis with all the medical personnel. “I did.”

He nodded. Attachments didn’t bring you down, they lifted you up. Their most negative consequence in that period seemed to be the recklessness they gave you- and my hair greying faster than I would’ve liked. He couldn’t help but say before he continued, but they didn’t unbalance you like they did most of us. And it is on that point my dear Spark, that I failed you.

“Failed me?” In what galaxy could he have possibly failed you when you were the one that had forgone all you stood for and was one slip away from total self-destruction.

When it became clear to me that this was indeed one of your best qualities and strengths, I was thrilled! It presented a challenge for me as you Master that I was looking forward to exploring! Your emotional attachment to people and causes was one I wanted to teach you to manage, not forbid. Your love and care didn’t make you more susceptible to the dark side and its dangers, it drew you closer to the light. That fire that burns within you isn’t a threat, it’s your way to become something greater. But the Council… He trailed off with a regretful sigh. They rejected my proposal that I mentor you in this way. So instead, as you got older, I worked on forcing you to dampen that flame within you but- He stopped for a moment and chuckled wryly. As you may remember, that was when the root of our conflicts started. Foolishly and rather selfishly-and this is an example of how even those of us that followed the Jedi Code to the letter slip from time to time- you passing your trials into Knighthood gave me profound relief. Not only did it mean I could see you become the Jedi you were always meant to be, but it meant my duty as your teacher was over and I could stop doing something I was against. But I shied away too much and stopped teaching you altogether, had I just been less of a ‘pawn of the Council’ as you quite rightly put it, what you’re experiencing now could have been avoided.

You took a moment to let his words sink in, but you wouldn’t let him blame himself for how you’d behaved in recent times. “I still made the choices to hurt those people, Master. You’re not responsible for my actions.”

Perhaps not, but I could’ve done more to make sure you were better equipped to deal with the loss attachment could bring rather than just tell you to stop feeling it altogether. Not that you listened to that anyway. He added with a slight grin.

You allowed yourself half a smile at that before his face turned sombre again.

But I should’ve stood up for you and for that I’m sorry.

You bowed your head in acceptance of his apology. “But what does all of what we’ve talked about have to do with where I am now?”

Everything I’ve shown you, everything you’ve felt in these recent months illustrates someone who had to cope with a tremendous amount of grief when they had been told their whole life to not feel or get attached. Even with your strength and abilities, Spark, that was a big ask, your actions, and the internal conflict you’re going through is an understandable outcome. But even in dealing with that struggle, you were never purely evil or sought to abandon your Jedi teachings. The only time I grew truly worried before now was whatever you did a few weeks ago. Even I couldn’t see you; it was like the very light around you was getting snuffed out. Care to tell me what you did?

You shook your head adamantly.

Very well. As I was saying, all you’ve learned, all you’ve done and means you can heal from this. You are not a lost cause, not a source of darkness and despair. You are good at heart, Spark!

But Master, I-

No, don’t talk yourself out of this. Really think about what I’m telling you. You never abandoned Lyra, you did your best to ensure no civilian would be caught up in your fights, you offered chances to those people before you hurt them. And you were able to sense Hunter and Wrecker arrive. That source of light wouldn’t have shown itself if you were too far down that dark path.

Maybe so but-

He wouldn’t let you second guess yourself anymore. And when you realised that they were indeed on this planet… what did you do first?

You pondered for a moment before you remembered. I helped those sisters.

And when you found one another, you felt alive and hopeful again but because you’d been lost and confused for so long, it got manipulated into that guilt and regret and hurt you are experiencing right now that has left you exposed to this darkness. But before that, you were ready to free yourself of it, whether you truly realised it or not.

“Right…” You said distantly as you were slowly starting to understand what revelation he was guiding you towards.

I can see you working it out, you’re almost there. He encouraged.

Each lesson and aspect of this entire conversation began to click into place. “So, you’re saying that Hunter’s my light? He’s my way out of this?” You uttered quietly.

Isn’t he? He challenged with a supportive smile. And I believe he too made that fact very clear before you sent him away.

“I thought that was what I was supposed to do.” You said in dismay as your mind finally began to listen to what your Master had been telling you and you gained some proper clarity. What had you done?

He looked at you fondly. You were always a bad student when it came to applying and learning the history of our Code, it would fit that the first time you apply the philosophy to your life would be the poorer choice. They never unbalanced you, Spark. At the very least, they’re your way of staying true to the light side and your dark side knew that, hence it’s enthusiastic efforts to turn you.

You hid you head in your hands in embarrassment. You wouldn’t know a right decision if it smacked you in the face.

Oh, and with regards to Cid and Hemlock, I leave that side of things entirely up to you, with your family by your side, I know punishing them however you like won’t ruin you.

“Thanks, Master.” You replied, a smile in your voice.

Not every Jedi gets the chance at a family, Spark, don’t throw it away now.

You glanced up in time to see him fade away but what was around you wasn’t pure darkness anymore; rays of light had broken into the gloomy space, with more fighting to get through.

You opened your eyes sharply and wiped away the damp residue of the tears that had escaped your eyes from your cheeks. He was right, they were the light in your life, and you’d been so stupid to let them go.

Ignoring the lingering pain of your injury, you hastily got to your feet, grabbed a couple bags of credits, and left your room only to be greeted by the disappointed and unhappy face of Lyra. “Hey, I was just-”

“You need to go after them. I’m sorry but I’m drawing the line here. I have not watched you put yourself through hell and risk your life month after month to find your family again only for you to throw it away for some stupid, fucked up, self-sabotaging reason! If you let them go, it will destroy you and as someone else who cares about you, I cannot allow you to do that! They’re your family, you need them, and they need you. And your kid needs you, you can’t just stop! And Hunter… that man is so in love with you it’s sickening, and you are as equally disgustingly in love with him! Whatever is holding you back, the two of you can get through together!”

“Lyra-” But she held up a finger to stop you.

“And you don’t need to worry about me, I will be fine. I’ll get a job and might even find a place that’s not a condemned building to live. You have to go!” She finished with a nervous exhale as she awaited your reaction.

“You’re right.” You agreed.

“Yeah, I am and- wait… what?” Lyra stared at you, shocked.

“I’m going after them.”

“You are?” She double checked.

“Yup.”

“Oh, thank fuck!” Lyra exclaimed before she darted forward and wrapped you up in her arms.

“How long were you coming up with that speech?” You kidded as the two of you hugged.

“For however long you were holed up in your room.” Lyra said with a laugh. “And in case you didn’t listen to that, I had my rifle set to stun and was fully prepared to drag you.”

“Glad we could avoid that.” You replied drily. “Also, ‘sickeningly in love?’” You quoted.

“I meant that as a compliment. Most people can only dream of that.”

You managed a short laugh. “I was an ass to you.” You mumbled shamefully.

“You were, but you were going through a lot.” Lyra said kindly as she removed herself from your hold.

“I was broken and hurting but that wasn’t an excuse to treat you how I did and I’m so sorry. I’m truly grateful for you and your friendship and well, just everything you’ve done for me. I won’t ever forget it. There are some spare bags of credits from those jobs I pulled whilst we were on the move in my bedside drawer, take them. And if there’s anything, and I mean anything you need, I will be there. You only have to get in touch.” You passed her the details of the Marauder’s comm channel.

“Go get ‘em.” Lyra said with a grin.

You gave her one last quick hug before you ran out the door, concern for your injury was pushed far to the back of your mind. You only prayed to the Force that you hadn’t left it too late.

“But I still don’t understand why we’re going without her. What you’ve said makes no sense.” Wrecker questioned as he followed Hunter up and down the Marauder as he got stuff ready for take-off.

“Not my problem, Wrecker. I don’t really want to relive it all again so that it makes sense to you.” Hunter said gruffly as he avoided making eye-contact with his brother and instead focused on keeping himself busy.

“She met someone else and you’re basically doing the whole ‘if you love someone you let them go?’”

“I guess that about sums it up.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Wrecker-”

“I’m sorry, Sarge, but it’s true.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear her.”

“She can’t have meant it! She still has your insignia, if there was someone else, why would she keep that?!”

“Wrecker, drop it.” Hunter said sharply. His brother’s insistence that you were making all this up was only rubbing salt in the wound.

“We’re really just going to leave and forget about her?”

“Yup.”

Wrecker just couldn’t accept that. “If you love someone, you fight for them! Otherwise, what’s the point in what we’re doing right now, why should we bother going after Omega?”

Hunter paused his pacing by the doorway and released an exasperated sigh. “What do you expect me to do?”

Wrecker went to speak but changed his mind as to what he was going to say as he saw the figure in the background. “Actually, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything.” Wrecker said, looking past Hunter’s shoulder.

Hunter turned to follow his gaze and that was when he saw you. Standing in the torrential rain a few feet away from the steps to the Marauder, was you and you were obviously trying to catch your breath.

You started to speak before you caught your breath, so your words were leaving you in a desperate and winded manner. “I was always a bad student.” You raised your voice over the sound of the pouring way. You wiped some drops away from your face, a futile gesture given the intensity of the downpour, but the motion assisted in grounding you for this moment.

Hunter studied you from afar for a second, unsure as to why you’d started this way.

Sensing his uncertainty, you cleared your throat and started again but your words still spilled from your lips in a nervous ramble. “So, it turns out I was always a Jedi who developed attachments and love for people, but apparently that’s a pretty strong and unique quality and applying the Jedi philosophy of ‘letting attachment go’ is a mistake and- and it felt like one. I have such a poor grasp of that concept that even when I went to use it properly, I got it all wrong. I was always a terrible student but for once, for once in my life, I have never been more grateful for it.” Your voice quivered as you said these next words. “I love you! I love you so much it hurts but it’s the kind of hurt that I can’t imagine not having in my life. You, this team, are what keep me balanced and alive, and I was stupid to think letting you go was the solution to everything I have done!”

Hunter could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he listened to what you were saying.

“Finally seeing you again made me feel hope and brought a newfound sense of purpose in my life I didn’t think I’d have again but it got all twisted, I let it get all messed up! I saw you and Wrecker, and I felt that love again and it terrified me at first! I had been acting out and miserable for so long that I didn’t think I deserved to feel this way again or that I should burden you all with my past. I needed to be punished and this was the best way I could think of. I allowed whatever darkness that had been driving me for that period we were apart to convince me that you were better of alone and I had to say whatever I could to get that to happen and for that, I am sorry!” You were in full flow now, all the emotions you’d been supressing came crashing to the surface and for once, it actually felt good. You weren’t existing as a husk of armour anymore.

Hunter couldn’t stand the gap between you anymore and he got his feet in motion. He needed to be near you, he needed to hold you again. You didn’t seem to notice his movement though because you carried on talking.

“There was never anyone else, there could never be anyone else! You’re it for me and this-” You stopped and gestured to the half white skull insignia on your top layer. “When I had this and said that you were a part of me, I truly meant it! Even when we weren’t together, that feeling never faltered. Half my heart beats for myself and this family I was fortunate enough to find. The other half beats for you! You are so deeply engrained in my very being that when I didn’t have you, I could hardly call it living! And then I got you back, and I was flooded with all the emotions I’d been missing since that day we were separated, and they collided with everything I’d done wrong, and I just panicked! I entered self-sabotage mode and thought letting you out of my life was what I had to do! I ruined one of the few remaining good things in my life and was preparing myself to let it be so. Thankfully, it was pointed out to me just how incorrect I was and I’m sorry!”

Hunter kept slowly walking down the steps towards you, the heavy rain instantly cascading down his face and body, but he didn’t care. His sole focus was on you now and the words you were saying. The words that were now healing the open wound he’d had since leaving you in that run down apartment.

“I need to come back. I need to be with you and I’m sorry I got everything so wrong! I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but you have to let me come back!”

“Yes.” He said as he continued to shorten the distance between you both.

“This family is the light of my life. You are the light of my life. So, either, let me come with you or just shoot me because without you, without this squad, I am just a shell of a human being and I’m done feeling like that now! You have to let me come back!”

“Yes.” Hunter said again as he stopped in front of you.

“And I-” You cut yourself off as you finally registered what he was saying and that the space between you both was now only a matter of inches. “Really?”

Hunter nodded and his hand fell to your waist whilst the other cradled the side of your face.

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered softly as your hand rested on his now unarmoured chest and you got utterly absorbed in the feeling of his heart pounding beneath your fingertips- each beat emphasising that this was real, you were actually with him now- and you had no doubt that he could pick up on the way your own pulse was racing.

“It’s okay.” He breathed. “I love you too.”

“I love you.” You croaked out again as you felt the emotions rise in the back of your throat.

“You never stopped being a part of me either.” He murmured, his breathing heavy as his self-restraint was hanging by a thread, but he needed you to be sure. “Can I-” Hunter started to ask as he angled his head and slowly brought his lips closer to yours.

“Yes.” You cut him off. If he didn’t kiss you now, you felt as though you might stop breathing.

Hunter swiftly bridged the remaining distance and the dread he’d been experiencing at the idea of never finding you, at the idea of leaving you behind instantly evaporated in this moment as he finally placed his lips on yours.

You sighed into the sensation of experiencing this again and what began as hesitant and careful, soon became a kiss between two people fuelled by passion who had been apart for far too long and who would never be apart again. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him.

Hunter first made sure he held you securely in his arms but as the kiss progressed and both of you became more immersed in feeling each other once more, his hands started caressing everything he could find. The actions elicited a small but desperate noise from you which he already felt drunk off of and he needed to hear more of you. The rain that had once felt like a harsh cascade of cold, damp water now felt gentle and tepid. He got utterly absorbed in your warmth and he tasted the water on your lips, but the interference didn’t bother him, he just relished the feeling of having you back in his embrace again.

You faintly registered the sun breaking through and the rain lightened in its deluge as you kissed him. If it wasn’t such a perfect moment, you might’ve laughed at the cliched nature of it all, but you were too caught up in this feeling that you ignored it. You threaded your fingers in his hair and lightly tugged, soliciting that raspy and familiar groan from him and your stomach fluttered at the feeling.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your current injury any longer and you felt it strain as Hunter held you tighter to him in response to your actions.

Hunter forced himself to pull away upon feeling your wince, his chest heaving as he worked on getting oxygen back into his lungs, but you interrupted his incoming question by continuing to plant light, affectionate kisses on the rest of his face and he couldn’t help the low but happy laugh that he let out. He lightly grabbed your shoulders and took a slight step back to take you in. The way the sun fell across your face had his breath catching in his throat. Your eyes were bright and looking at him with an adoration that he knew was reflected in his own gaze and the blissful smile on your lips beautifully captured the feelings of this moment. He rested a hand on the side of your face.

You looked into his own shining dark brown eyes and leaned into his touch with a soft and content sigh.

Hunter continued to slowly caress your cheek. “Not to disrupt your healing journey, but I have to ask… where do you stand on Cid and Hemlock?”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re getting fucked up. I have permission on that front.” You said with a decisive nod. “I just have to watch the line with those that aren’t exactly personally involved.”

Not going to question where this permission came from exactly, he was just grateful whatever had happened, had brought you back to him so he just focused on the last part. “I can help with that. And you can look out for me too. We don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

You gave him an agreeing and grateful smile before you planted another tender kiss to his lips and grabbed his hand as the two of you walked back to the ship.

“This you officially back with us now?” Wrecker asked with a grin as you stepped aboard.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me.” You replied with a small smile as you gazed around you. There were times where you had felt uncertain as to whether you would stand amongst these comforting and familiar walls again, and your senses were flooded with the memories you had created and shared here. You swallowed harshly as you saw Omega’s and Tech’s spaces, but you regained your composure as you walked along the hallway. Your hand traced along the bunk you shared with Hunter and a soft sigh left your lips as you were instantly reminded of the slightly more personal moments you had experienced there.

It felt good to be home.

“Ready?” Hunter asked as you finished in the cockpit. He came beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you tight to him as Wrecker put the ship in hyperspace.

You nodded. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Next Oneshot>

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gretavanlace · 6 months

Text

Sugar II (part 5)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, angst, language, dirty talk, digital penetration, etc etc.

So sorry for the wait…I’ve been so busy and I’m scatterbrained as it is. I love you all and appreciate your patience as always! My lovelies, you all own my heart ❤️ Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, I’ll add my taglist tomorrow, I promise. Tonight, I’m tipsy and in a turkey coma. xoxo

It’s early when your heavy eyes reluctantly drift open. Quiet. Silent. Save for the serene, rhythmic push and pull of his soft breath against the nape of your neck. In and out, in and out, like a whispered incantation sent to lull you into his placid waters.

Morning light is threatening to steal the darkness away, inching its way into the room, casting a muted, purple glow against the wall. You snuggle in closer to him and watch the moon prepare to fight the battle it wages ceaselessly. It loses to the sun again and again, and this morning will be no different.

How you wish the moon could win just this once. How you loathe the sun for refusing its slumber. How dare it steal this night away from you? How dare it force you to face the gravity of this life you’ve built without him? Of choice? Of pain either way?

Jake has insisted on sending the others along, promising he won’t be far behind. That he’ll take a car, or catch a short flight…vowing to appear on stage for sound check - the prodigal son returning to whichever arena is next on the list.

You hadn’t needed to hear the opposite end of the conversation last night to know that Josh couldn’t have been happy about it…but, even after all this time, you still know them both well enough to know that Jake’s heels were dug in and that Josh - knowing this, too - wouldn’t fight him too viciously.

“You awake?” His voice, gorgeously gruff with sleep, hushes against your skin just before his lips find a place there with a delicate kiss.

A hum rasps out of you as you stroke your fingers down his forearm, not trusting yourself to speak over the lump pulsing in your throat.

If he understands the reason for your quiet, he doesn’t let on, “God, how fucking perfect is this? You smell so good.”

He trails off, nestling in against you as his arms tighten their hold, tucking you right in until you can feel the drum of his beautiful heart tapping a steady beat against your shoulder blade.

“Do you remember the first time we woke up next to each other?” His lips graze across your bare shoulder gingerly as he whispers to you, calming your mind with his soothing cadence.

“Yes,” how could you ever forget? “It was the morning you told me you loved me. Then we went downstairs and Josh shoveled pancakes onto our plates until we were sick.”

His hand disappears beneath the sheets to feather along your breast..tickling over your nipple until it pebbles, “That was a beautiful morning with my beautiful girl, but it wasn't the first.”

Confused, you sift through memories rapidly. So many of them, and so many of them him…flashes of his face, so stunning and serene in his devotion, his voice, his laugh. Darkened eyes devouring you from above, owning you like a deity you are hopeless to deny, his hands, his heart, his love.

Suddenly, there it is - crystal clear as the spring you had visited that long ago weekend. The memory brings a nostalgic smile playing across your lips. You had all been so young then. So naive of what was to come. Untouchable laughter echoing off trees that had been standing, solemn and still, long enough to know it wouldn’t last. “The UP…camping at Indian Lake. You forgot your tent when we were packing up, and Josh had the most fun making fun of you about it because—“

He interrupts with a spot on impression of his twin, “Who the fuck goes camping and forgets their tent? That’s like—“

You chime in as well, “Going to the vet without your dog.”

“I woke up beside you and I just…” he falls silent for a beat and then marches on with a shaky breath, “You were sleeping so peacefully, so sweetly, like an angel - and he was out there by the fire causing chaos and frying eggs. I laid there beside you and pretended you were mine. Made up a little life for us in my head. We had three girls and a cat who sunbathed at their feet during tea parties in the backyard. They looked just like you. I loved you, and you loved me back.”

“Tell me more.” You urge so softly, you’ve hardly made a sound. “Tell me about our life.”

He cuddles in closer, cheek nuzzling into your tangled hair. “I buy you the most beautiful house you’ve ever seen. And it has a great big covered porch where we like to sit in the evenings. We hold hands on the swing and watch the girls make up elaborate games with the fireflies. Our youngest is the bossiest, and you say she reminds you of Josh. There’s a place in the side yard. I leveled it out just after we moved in so you could plant a garden, and I help you harvest tomatoes in the evenings because you always plant too many.”

“I do not plant too many,” your laugh is gentle, wistful. “I make salsa for your stupid brothers.”

“Yes,” he agrees, nodding along as he continues stroking over your chest, abandoning your breast for the thrum of your heart beneath his palm. “You make salsa for my stupid brothers. The girls complain and bargain for time when we tell them it’s time for baths, but you step in and order them inside because I can’t tell them no.”

“You’re no help at all.” You sigh, sinking into the soft domesticity of the picture he is painting just for you.

“Yes, I am.” He argues, kissing along your jaw. “I help with baths, and then I play them all the prettiest songs I’ve ever written for you until their eyes are hazy enough to drift away. And then I hold your hand some more down the hall, and I close our bedroom door, and I lay you down and remind you of how much I love you until you sound like all those pretty songs I’ve written for you.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the girlish giggle that floats off your tongue. He turns you into liquid bliss so effortlessly, speaking to you like a lullaby until warm, worshipful devotion swells in your chest, leaving room for nothing but Jake.

“Yeah.” His tongue travels over the shell of your ear as he breathes promises into it, twisting and tightening your belly way down deep “And sometimes I remind you slow and sweet…sometimes I hold you like bone china and move gently, and softly, until you’re shaking and fluttering around me, all silk and velvet walls like flower petals. And other times, I give it to you nasty. Fuck you filthy, and dirty, and hard so you’ll remember who my pretty little fuck doll is…and you take my cock like a whore with my hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the neighbors.”

His touch remains far too innocent for the words dripping from his lips like salacious prayers. It’s still playing softly over your heart - perhaps just to feel the quickening of its beats, perhaps just because he has missed it so.

“Touch me.” you shiver as the plea rolls off your tongue, anticipating the way he will give into you, and the way it will feel when he does.

“I am touching you.” He’s burying his face in your hair, breathing you in, filling his lungs with everything he has missed so desperately.

“Don’t tease me.” There’s a pout edging its way into your tone, and he is positively weak for it. He’d like to think that you have never sounded this way for anyone else. He’d like to believe that he has never heard you sound this way…that you have never begged for him with such soft urgency on your tongue.

“Shh, sugar,” he soothes, and the way it slows your pulse like a drug…well, you can almost believe that nothing has ever been wrong with your world. You can almost believe that you’ve lived all of your lifetimes here in this room with him, wrapped up in the sheets, safe and so, so loved. “you know I’m gonna take care of my girl. You just close your eyes, baby, alright? Just close your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter shut as though he has willed them so, and then his fingers are winding the gentlest trail down your body, slipping like hot silk down your stomach, and then to your thigh to pull it to the side, opening you up for him.

“I think about this all the time.” he confesses, sweeping his fingertips against your entrance and then over your clit once his touch is slick and warm. “Lying with you. Talking with you in bed the way we used to. Feeling your hair tickle my cheek. Watching you sigh for me, wet and aching for me, for what I can give you…nobody else.”

“Nobody else, Jake,” you nod feverishly as he begins drawing delicate circles over your swollen clit. “Nobody else.”

“Do you think about me, too?” his mouth hovers over your pulse, tracing an S for his sugar against it. “When you’re all alone?”

His touch is picking up in pace, those goddamed fingers of his that seem to somehow vibrate, they know every inch of you…how to touch you. How to take you apart. How to play you. You are his favorite instrument.

“Yes,” it stutters out of you, inarticulate and clumsily, but he loves it all the more for it.

“Yeah?” there it is, that smug air in his tone that makes your entire body throb with want. “Does my sweet little girl touch herself when no one is around to see? Does my sugar call my name when she slips her hand between these pretty thighs?”

“Jake, please…” your grip has found its way around his wrist, tight and sure, to keep his hand where you so badly need it.

“Stop begging, baby,” he croons, pressing kisses against your temple, “I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you cum, soft and gentle, ‘cause you’re my beautiful fucking girl. And then you’re going to ride my cock filthy, fuck doll.”

A sound that you ought to be ashamed of claws its way out of your chest, feral and furious in your need as you rock your hips into his hand. His pace never falters, never varies, as he whispers praise and vulgarities into your ear, skilled fingers swirling and swirling and swirling over your clit until you’re right fucking there.

“Come on, pretty girl…” more kisses to your temple as adulation tumbles from his lips endlessly. “Give it to me, sugar, give it to me.”

It spreads itself out in your body like a heavy swallow of red wine. unfurling inside you like euphoric heat, curling your toes and prickling your scalp as it trips up your spine. It’s so delicate and light, his touch like a feather against your clit as it trembles and twitches…and just like always, he knows, and works you through it softly, gingerly, reverently, until the tide pulls back.

“You made a mess, baby.” he teases, whispering into the crook of your neck with a smile on his lips and his fingers now curling across the pillow of his tongue.

“Whose fault is that?” you pant back, working hard to chase down your breath.

“I’ll own making a mess of your pretty cunt any day, sweetheart…any fucking day.”

You roll your eyes without much conviction, for you adore his obscene prose “Poetic.”

He rolls onto his back, tugging you along for the ride until you are perched above and straddling him.

He looks like a fallen, arcane angel beneath you, with his hair snarled and knotted against the pillow, eyes clouded with lust and darkened with blown pupils, lips pink and tumid - parted and pretty.

“You’re beautiful.” you shake your head in wonder. He is exquisite. Ethereal. Flawless. Precious.

He shakes his head right back, cupping your cheek, “You’re beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful sugar. I have loved you forever and I will love you always.”

With your cheeks heating under his awestruck scrutiny, you bite down on your lip coyly…you haven’t forgotten that he likes a hint of innocence now and then. “Did I hear you mention something about riding your cock filthy, Jakey? Or did I misunderstand?”

His palm is wrapped around your throat in a breath, pulling your mouth down to his. He licks against your tongue with a menacing hum. “You wanna ride my cock, baby? You wanna fuck me dirty while I lie back and watch you do all the work like my good little girl?”

A shiver shimmies your shoulders as your gaze flutters away abashedly, inexplicably shy.

“Aw,” it isn’t taunting, he sounds genuinely starstruck by the bashful blush coloring the apples of your cheeks. “Look at my sweetheart. Does it still make you a little soft when I tell you what a good girl you are for me? You like that?”

You nod, and this time, when your teeth sink into your bottom lip, it isn’t contrived.

“I know, sugar…” he pets at your face like you’re fragile, made of glass and dear to his heart. “It always has. You are, you know? You’re my very good girl and I love you more than anything in this whole fucking world. Nothing even comes close.”

Emboldened and driven half crazy by the love he is wringing from his heart, you rise up on your knees and issue an order, which doesn’t make you a very good girl at all. “Put it in.”

A huff of wanton breath escapes him, and then, with one hand wrapped around his thick cock, and the other digging into your hip, he pulls you down and buries himself inside you.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart…” it’s a hitching groan that rattles in his chest. “Look at you, wrapped up sweet and pink around me. Pretty as a picture, aren’t you, baby? Taking this cock. So fucking tight. You feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you can’t manage much else as your nails dig into his chest for purchase, head tipping back as you begin to ride him fast and hard, forgoing an easy lead up…you need him too badly.

His tip, so thick and perfect, begins spoiling over the sweetest spot inside you when he angles your hips…knocking against it until the air is punching from your lungs with every downward swivel of your hips.

“That’s the spot right there, isn’t it, sugar?” he voice, rasping and strangled with pleasure drags you closer and closer. “Right there, huh? That’s where my girl needs my cock…right fucking there.”

“Yes! Right there…” you repeat, blathering on with your hands on your own tits, twisting and tugging at your nipples as your thighs burn and scream for mercy you don’t care to give them. “Right there right there right there…”

“Yeah? You want it right there?” his thumb drops to your clit as he drinks you in, savoring you as you work yourself into a frenzy above him. “You take it right there, pretty girl…you just fucking take it.”

You can feel him twitching and straining inside your clenching cunt, and you know desperate little spurts of precum must be steadily leaking from his cock…the thought only serves to make you coil around him even more viciously.

“Sugar,” there’s a frantic edge coloring his tone now. He’s close. “Please, baby…you’re squeezing me…so fucking…fuck, fuck…ease up, sweetheart, please. Relax that sweet little cunt for me. Baby, baby, baby…” he thrashes his head back and forth against the pillow, brow furrowed and tipped up as though he is anguished.

“No.” you’re wild and panting, sweating and clawing at his chest with unhinged need. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh god…” it hushes out of him, winded and ragged, like he’s afraid he won’t make it long enough to get you there. “C’mon, pretty girl, come on. Right on my cock. Soak it, sweetheart. I want you all fucking over me.”

“Fuck me back,” you’re clutching at his shoulders now, scrambling for purchase against his drenched, glistening skin. “Hard. Fuck me back.”

His hips begin driving up to meet you, hard and fast, slamming his cock into you over and over through gritted teeth and gutteral grunts of pleasure and agony as he fights his own release.

Arms up suddenly, he curls them violently around your shoulders, holding you still against his lap as best he can, but you continue to grind into him, working yourself back and forth over his cock, chasing and chasing and chasing that end you so badly need.

“Hold fucking still,” grits out through clenched teeth as your lips press and sway against his sweating forehead, “I’m gonna cum, sugar. Don’t move, don’t move!”

His palm lands hard against your ass in punishment for your disobedience, gripping and pulling at it, but it merely spurs you on.

“You said you wanted me to ride your cock filthy,” your words are airy puffs of taunting breath. “so fucking take it Jakey, take it.”

He doubles over into you, burying his face between your breasts and crying out into their rounded softness as he lets go inside you, painting you warm and wetter than you already were…biting and sucking, consuming you as if he wants to swallow you whole.

It’s your name, whimpering and keening out of him like a psalm that sends you tumbling along right behind him with a gushing pulse and a shaking inward pull of breath that exhales with his name to match your own still lingering on his lips.

A strange calm finds you both as you struggle to breathe wrapped up tight and tangled together in the ruined sheets and humid air. But it is a familiar calm…one that so often crept in between the two of you after you had lost yourselves the way you’ve just lost yourselves.

“No one,” his fingers tap down your spine and linger in the dimples that grace the base, “could ever make me feel the way you make me feel, sugar. No one. Ever.”

“Jake.” you sigh, and he hears a thousand words inside it.

“I know, baby.” he’s stroking through your hair now, pacifying you so all of that feverish energy will seep from your veins gently. “I know.”

The sun has bullied its way into the sky fully, washcloth he so lovingly swept over you now rinsed and folded over the bathroom sink, glass of water he carried in, sipped at and now lazily dripping condensation onto the nightstand.

Top sheet pulled over the fitted sheet in a half-hearted attempt to rectify the wrongs inflicted towards the bed, your bodies are twisted up below the soft, generic duvet.

“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” He whispers, tracing his fingers along the bridge of your nose. “I can feel it.”

“What happens now, Jake?’ You stroke his nose right back. “I’m just going to walk away from my life and follow you around the world? Like nothing ever happened?”

“Yes.” He says it like it could all be just that easy, and how you wish that were so.

“It doesn’t work that way.” He’s a dreamer. Always has been.

“So, tell me how it works then, sugar.” He pulls you into a blink of a kiss. “You go back to him, and I go back to misery and that’s it for you and I? We wake up every morning for the rest of our lives wishing things were different? Aching for each other? You tell me how that makes fucking sense.”

“Because this is real life, Jake.” Do you even believe your own bullshit? You have to, right? “This isn’t some pretty little story you’re telling. We aren’t picking tomatoes in the garden.”

God, how you hate yourself.

“We could be though.” His promises would be so lovely to slip away into…if only it could be that simple. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “It could be so simple, sugar. None of this other shit matters. We matter.”

He can’t be argued with, so instead, you simply nestle your cheek against his chest and linger in this time you have left with him.

“Will you at least leave me your number before you go? So I can call to say hello every once in a while?”

He’s giving in far too easily. He’s lying. You know he is, and he knows it just as well. He isn’t going away, and he doesn’t plan on giving up.

He has decided to stand his ground this time around. This time, for you, he has decided to fight…

and god help anyone who tries to stand in his way.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @jakesgrapejuice @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiskza #jake kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka #jake kiszka smut #gvf jake #josh gvf #gvf josh #gvf smut

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mewguca · 11 months

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I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

#rain world #egg art #eggmoon creations #looks to the moon #rw hunter #angst #comfort #rambled eggs #eggmoon's rain world

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ao3komorii · 7 months

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On the Hunt (Astarion/Reader)

Happy Halloween! I want to write something for Raphael eventually, but here's a shorter Astarion thing for now. Hope you enjoy the story :)

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You had gotten very good at detecting when the light left his eyes.

It happened a lot less after Cazador had been felled, but often when Astarion had little else to focus on, his red eyes travelled back in time, back to his own world of pain and loss and hopelessness.

It didn’t help that with all that he had gained, he had lost the sun, left to see the light only from afar, his memories of its warmth nowhere near enough.

You had happily joined him in the night as you set out to cure him of his condition, but like anyone, Astarion still had bad days.

You had figured it was going to be a less good day when you had woken up in the middle of the day, your body sensing the absence of his next to yours. Drowsily opening your eyes, you easily spotted your silver-haired partner sitting at the edge of the bed, staring silently at a rectangle of light shining through a small slit between the curtains you had closed when you had first entered the room at the inn, as you always did.

You closed your eyes again, allowing Astarion his moment, knowing that you fussing over him every time would only make things worse. Instead, as you allowed yourself to fall back to sleep, you decided to do something to make tonight as exciting as you could to help give the vampire an escape from his losses.

When you woke next, Astarion was next to you in bed, his meditative pose telling you he was actually asleep. You stared at his peaceful resting face for a long moment before turning your focus to those still-closed curtains, the shade of the barely-visible sliver of light telling you that it was at least midday.

Setting about your pseudo-morning routine, you began to brainstorm a solid plan to distract Astarion from his ongoing plight.

He was likely starving for blood, you knew that much. Without a power-hungry cult looming constantly over your heads, there were much less fights to be had in cities that didn’t result in legal consequences, and you could only safely let him feed from you so often without risking your health. And without Withers around, you couldn’t risk your life quite as stupidly as you had before.

But it had been over a week since Astarion had last had your blood, and you had been considering finding a bandit camp or seeking out some wild animals just to get his mood up when an idea struck you.

It was perhaps a bit sooner than the two-week timeline you had both agreed on between larger blood donations, but you found yourself ensorcelled by the idea of putting on a little hunt for him, just with you as the prey this time. A little test of his instincts as it were, keeping your real reasoning close to your chest, not wanting him to think you were pitying him. And what was a little anemia if it was in the name of cheering up your beloved?

You were sitting at the small wooden desk in the room, itemizing your carefully-hoarded spell scrolls when Astarion came out of his trance, leaning down beside you before you realized he was even awake.

“You’re up early,” he remarked curiously, and you froze up in surprise, doing your best not to look like you had been caught in the act, casually reaching to hide your scroll of disguise self under a more conspicuous hypnotic pattern. “Now what could be so important that you decided to deprive me the pleasure of waking up next to my love?”

You shuffled your scrolls and maps into a messy pile, aware of how his sharp gaze followed the action with suspicion.

Turning from your papers to meet his eyes, you did your best to look innocuous. “I was thinking we could do something different today.”

“Oh?” Astarion’s face lit up with intrigue. “And here I thought I’d be in for yet another day of rifling through dusty old tomes written by dusty old men who haven’t even met a vampire, let alone possessed any useful information about one.”

You let out a huff of laughter, equally aware of the bad information streak you had been on for the last month, the most useful information coming from a thoroughly depraved romantic vampire novel that Astarion had found significantly too much enjoyment in reading out to you whenever he had gotten bored of reading whatever vampiric history tome he had discarded when its contents proved valueless.

“I was thinking–”

It was probably to your benefit that Astarion leaned in to kiss you, cutting off the sentence you hadn’t quite figured out how to phrase. The kiss was chaste, the smug vampire pulling back with a smirk, clearly enjoying having caught you off guard.

“You were saying, love?” he teased lowly, and you willed yourself not to fall for his distractions like you usually did.

“I was thinking we could go on a hunt today,” you said at last, Astarion raising an eyebrow in response.

“You know I always relish the chance for some meaningless violence, but why all of a sudden?” he asked, always way too perceptive for your own good. “What’s the hunt? It had better not be another cluster of ooze. It took me far too long to remove their slobber from my weapons the last time I had the misfortune of stabbing one.”

“No, no ooze,” you dismissed with a laugh. It wasn’t like you had wanted to do that job either, but it had gotten you the funds to pay for your last three inn stays. Summoning up your courage, you tried your best to not look as embarrassed as you felt. “I was thinking this time you could hunt… me.”

Astarion’s eyes glinted noticeably as he leaned in towards you, a hand resting on either armrest of your chair, his arms caging you in. “Am I to take this as a request of a more carnal nature? Because I am very willing to oblige.”

His voice was dripping with quiet ardor, the cheeky vampire using the tone he knew would lure you into bed with him every time, but not this time. You wanted something that would catch him off guard entirely, leaving no room in any part of his mind for his latent sadness to set in today. There would be plenty of time for sex later, once he had been fed.

“I was thinking more along bloodier lines,” you said, Astarion’s resulting frown at his seduction attempt failing more than a little cute. “I know we agreed to every two weeks, but I do have that vibrancy potion I’ve been saving.”

Astarion leaned back out of your space, looking quizzical, but not unhappy, so you took that as a sign to continue.

“Since this is a special occasion, I thought it might be fun to make you work for it,” you said with a conspiratorial smile. “Neither of us have been to this city before, so we’re on an even playing field. I was thinking if you can find me by sunrise, my blood is yours. As much as you want, since the effects of the vibrancy potion will last until then. If you can find me, that is.”

Astarion grinned wide, his pristine white fangs on full display. “Oh darling, I hadn’t taken you as someone who makes gambles they haven’t a hope of winning.”

You felt a flare of competition spark within you at his surety that he would win. Just because this was supposed to end with your blood on his teeth didn’t mean you were going to make this easy for him.

“If you’re so sure you’ll win, then maybe I’ll set off now and get a head start,” you shot back teasingly, reaching into your bag on the floor and downing the small vial of forest green vibrancy potion in one go before standing up, licking the last stray drop from the corner of your mouth to make sure the potion had maximum effectiveness.

Astarion’s eyes closed as he took a long inhale, which told you that the potion was indeed working as intended. When his eyes opened again, his pupils were blown wide, looking every bit the vampire ready for a hunt.

“Your blood smells even sweeter than the first time,” he spoke in a strained voice, posture so rigid he looked like he might snap if you moved an inch closer to him. “If I wasn’t such an honorable vampire, I’d already have you.”

Keeping any comments regarding his honor to yourself, you lifted your bag, sweeping the papers on the desk into it before slinging it over your shoulder, heading all the way to the door before turning your head back to face the shirtless, sleepy-haired vampire with a teasing smile.

“Good luck, Astarion,” you told him. Knowing how desperate for blood he had been the first time, he had to struggling even harder than he looked to be holding himself back right now.

“I don’t need luck,” he replied smoothly, sitting back down on the bed, hands fisting tightly onto the sheets. “There is nowhere you could hide where I can’t find you, my love.”

His sultry tone made you flush, and you quickly fled the room, knowing you had to go now before your willpower gave out.

Emerging onto bustling early evening streets, you knew that you had until the sun fell to find a place to hide. Making your way down the main street, you made sure to stop and chat up a perfume salesman, accepting a heavy dose of one of their floral samples in the hope that it would disguise the smell of your blood to the hungry vampire that would be on your trail within the hour. Your scent taken care of, now there was just the manner of your appearance.

Stopping by a busy clothing store, you stood before a long mirror in a deserted corner of the store, pulling out your disguise self scroll and getting to work.

You left the store a purple-skinned tiefling with long ruby-red hair, clad in a skimpy black dress with a long slit up the thigh, gold jewelry accenting your neck and illusory horns. If Astarion was looking for a disguise, you doubted he would think you would take on such a gaudy one, the stares of people as you passed telling you that you definitely looked the part of a lady of the night.

The sun had begun to fall as you walked the streets, intending on getting a decent distance away from the inn before finding somewhere to hole up when the dark set in. There was no doubt that Astarion would have the advantage in the dark, so you had to be as well-hidden as possible by then.

It felt too much like cheating to set up in a noisy tavern, though it wasn’t exactly like you had set any concrete rules before setting out, but still, you dismissed the fleeting idea. You wanted to make this hard for Astarion, not impossible. You didn’t often have enough gold for vibrancy potions anymore, so you wanted to make this one count, but Astarion would have to earn it first.

You had your momentary doubts that he would even agree to your proposal, given he had his moods sometimes, but his reaction had surpassed even your most hopeful expectations. You knew he wouldn’t be holding back, and you would hate yourself if you didn’t at least put up a fight.

You stopped to feign interest in a group of dragonborn musicians playing in a park as you considered your options further. You could cast a hypnotic pattern and pretend to be captivated by it as well? But you couldn’t sustain that one for long, and there was no telling when Astarion would pass by here. You could blur yourself, but that was likely to end up attracting his attention rather than evading it.

Lost in your thoughts, you took altogether too long to realize the passing of time, coming to the sudden realization that the sun was now just the tiniest sliver in the horizon. Astarion was definitely out by now, who knows for how long while you were zoning out.

You followed the crowd’s lead, clapping for the performers as you took subtle glances around you, not seeing any silver hair in the area. Still, you had wasted too much time here. You needed to move.

With most people in the park distracted by the performance, you were easily able to misty step your way across the park, exiting into what looked to be a district of… lesser repute. Here, there were women and men dressed in less than you were, hanging outside gaudy establishments and trying to draw customers in. You were just passing by a gnome and a scantily-clad human making out so loudly that you briefly wondered if either of them had ever kissed anyone now before when you ran into an issue.

“Haven’t seen yer sweet ass ‘round here before,” a male voice slurred, a large half-orc stepping into your view, or rather completely blocking it with his bulk.

“Excuse me,” you spoke flatly, immediately on guard. You moved to walk around him, but this only seemed to egg him on, as he moved in turn to step to the side and continue blocking your way.

“Ain’t no tieflings at tha bars, not anymore,” he spoke angrily, waving his arms wildly around as he talked, large axe glinting from its place on his back. “It ain’t the same when those other broads ain’t got no horns to grab while I plow ‘em!”

You could easily discern the reason why tiefling women seemed to become scarce around him, regretting that your choice of disguise had now led to this unexpected issue. You wouldn’t want to talk to this creep on a normal day, but you really didn’t have time now. You weren’t sure if your ego would survive being caught by Astarion less than an hour after the hunt had begun.

While you were confident that your disguise was flawless, the half-orc was being so loud that you would catch anyone’s attention right now. Looking around, you noticed the eyes of many of the seedy crowd were on you, but as expected, nobody was stepping in to help you, clearly wary of attracting the wrath of the drunk brute.

Sighing internally, you resolved to yourself to give this guy one more chance to leave you alone before you made him. What a mess you had managed to find yourself in.

“I’m not interested,” you said, not intimidated in the slightest by the half-orc who was at least a head taller than you. “I’m asking you nicely to walk away.”

The half-orc scoffed loudly, making a show of looking around, the onlookers all averting their gazes, not wanting to be involved, their eyes shifting back to you when the brute finished his overdramatic display before turning back to you with a cocked brow.

“Well I don’t see no man here ta claim ya,” he boasted loudly. “And Barorth don’t recognize no other claims on the womens he wants anyway!”

He would probably have been luckier if Astarion was here, the snarky vampire possibly content to mock the half-orc without him realizing rather than what you were going to do to him if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Not interested,” you repeated flatly, deathly intent plain in your voice, at least plain to anyone but this moron, who instead reached out to take one of your arms in his grasp.

“‘Nuff talkin’,” he grunted, hand clamping down on your arm. “Those tits are just–”

The second he touched you, you blinked, immediately activating eyebite, your eyes turning into teeth-ringed pools of black.

“Go,” you snarled at the half-orc, his grip falling from your arm instantly, an all-too-loud guttural groan leaving his mouth before he turned and ran. You didn’t dismiss eyebite until he was out of sight, glaring after him the entire way.

Taking a breath to calm yourself down, you blinked and your regular eyes returned. How much time had you wasted on that moron? He was lucky all you did was traumatize him, the brute likely to have suffered a much worse fate if it was Lae’zel he was hitting on. Hopefully he would leave any real tieflings alone after your little display.

Frustrated, you moved to the less busy side of the street, ignoring the people there who now stared at you in shock. You were far enough from Baldur’s Gate that very few people would recognize you even if you had your real appearance, but there was definitely going to be gossip spreading now about the tiefling escort that sent a half-orc running away with just a look.

And then you were striding past an alleyway, intent on figuring out your next move, when a hand darted out, clasping firmly around your wrist and pulling you into the alleyway, finding yourself quickly pinned to the stone wall by your assailant’s body.

Amused red eyes stared down at you, Astarion running one hand down your side to rest on your hip. “One hour and you’re already finding your way into trouble without me. Darling, I’m hurt.”

You knew he had you, despite your feigned appearance, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to give in so easily.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed with very false confidence. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to–”

“Spare me,” he dismissed. “Did you really think you could hide from me in plain sight when I know your scent, your taste so… intimately?”

You wanted to protest further, but any words you were going to say turned into a pleased sigh as Astarion leaned in to kiss at your neck.

“You do make a rather fetching tiefling, my love, but I do think I prefer the you that I wake up next to every morning,” he spoke against your neck.

You smiled despite yourself, finally giving in and allowing the disguise to drop, Astarion holding you to him tighter in response, but his fangs still hadn’t made their way into your neck. The smell of your blood had to have been driving him crazy, he had said as much earlier, so then why hadn’t he claimed his reward yet?

“You win,” you conceded, unable to stay mad with your beloved so close to you, even in the dingy alleyway whose prior inhabitants had likely been either a murder or a messy hookup. “My blood is yours.”

At your words, Astarion pulled back from your neck entirely, further confusing you. Noticing your questioning look, he gestured out to the street, where some onlookers were barely visible, but their attention at least seemed to be on their own business now.

“I won’t be playing the part of the heinous vampire attacking the fair maiden and risking some do-gooder rushing to your rescue with a stake meant for my heart,” he explained disdainfully. “No, I think my prize would be better savored in a more private location.”

You could still see just how bad his hunger was getting to him, so it was obvious that you weren’t making it back to the inn. Looking out over his shoulder, you spotted a private enough looking rooftop several stories above some seedy-looking bar, placing your hand on Astarion’s arm as you summoned a dimension door.

“Good enough?” you asked, drawing Astarion’s gaze to the matching door waiting on the roof.

“Not quite the caliber of the Blushing Mermaid, but I can hardly be choosey when it means I get more of your delectable blood,” he answered.

That was as much of a yes as you figured you were getting out of him, and so you activated the door and found yourselves instantly transported to the actually-not-too-bad-looking rooftop.

It was barren, but clean. Seemed like nobody really came up here, as all that was on the roof were a couple ratty-looking chairs and a large rug that looked like it would be worth some money if it weren’t for a large stain on one corner that was either blood or red wine.

Stepping away before Astarion could get too carried away, you rummaged quickly through your bag, pulling out one of the many arcane lock scrolls you knew to keep on hand for situations like this, sealing the door so you wouldn’t be interrupted. Job done, you went to turn back around, not wanting to keep the vampire waiting.

“Well, I think we’re—”

Astarion was way closer than you expected, having silently closed the gap between you while your back was turned.

Shaking off your momentary surprise, you smiled at him, turning your head and pulling your hair back so your neck was left bared for him to drink from. So you were caught off guard when he instead backed you up against the door, caging you in with his body and catching your mouth with his own.

While you were confused, you weren’t opposed, your eyes sliding closed and arms coming up to rest against his chest, the gentle buzzing of the magical lock against your back all but forgotten at the things Astarion’s tongue was doing to your own.

You were having a hard time telling if he was actually this turned on, or if he had just turned his switch on, as much as you had tried to break him of the habit of feeling like he had to perform sexually if he wasn’t feeling it. Recognizing you should probably make that discernment now, you pulled back from the kiss, Astarion’s lips shifting to kiss at your neck.

“It’s okay if this is just for blood,” you spoke, trying to keep your voice steady despite Astarion suckling on a particularly sensitive spot. “You don’t owe me anything for my blood if you don’t want to.”

Astarion pulled back from your neck at last, no bites taken, instead reaching a hand down to take your leg in his grasp, pulling it around one hip and using the opportunity to grind his clearly hard cock into you, the resulting feeling fluttering your lashes as you tried desperately to focus on the seriousness you were trying to inject into the moment.

Astarion saw your serious expression and only smiled, a small little smile so unlike the openly flirtatious ones he used to send your way back when you had first explored each other’s bodies.

“Trust me darling, you mean far too much to me to ever treat you like you’re a favor to be traded in,” he spoke quietly, hips still rolling into yours as he spoke. “You’ve given me too much to ever be repaid. But no need to fret, my reasons for wanting your body now are just my own selfish lust.”

He didn’t need any words from you to know he had you, one broken moan at his hips rutting perfectly against yours enough of a response for him to return to your mouth, one hand sliding under your dress to press firmly on your clit as you kissed fervently, doing your best to keep up with his tongue as you felt warm enough for the both of you even on the chilly rooftop.

The greedy vampire could only go so long without claiming his reward, mouth moving to your neck the second he felt you getting close, sinking his teeth into you at last as he barraged your clit with attention, the twin sensations of blood loss and orgasm feeding off each other in beautiful harmony, Astarion prolonging your peak with his talented fingers as he drank from your neck until you laid boneless against him, panting above his head.

“I love you,” you breathed, Astarion breaking from your neck to return the sentiment with a bloodstained smile.

And then it was your turn, pulling him to your mouth and grinding up into him, the vampire’s own panting breaths loud against your mouth. Astarion moved his hips back into yours, his pace nothing like the practiced, even rhythm he’d had back when he was playing the part of what he had thought you would like. His groans now were entirely his body’s reaction to yours, and the thought burned deeply in your core.

Neither one of you content to keep things going with clothes still on, your hands moved to the clasp holding your flimsy dress together, while Astarion smoothly discarded his own pants, his hands then coming back to maneuver you onto your back on the non-stained section of the rooftop rug, your dress splayed out under you helping to guard against the slightly rough texture of the rug.

“This is a sight I will never tire of,” Astarion groaned, ripping his shirt up over his head, his underwear following and leaving him entirely bare to your wanting gaze.

He looked every bit the vampiric seductor in that horrible novel he liked to bother you with, red eyes and bloody mouth gleaming in the sparse light the rising moon provided.

You watched his expression spark with debauched pleasure as it was plainly obvious how wet you were as he practically peeled your underwear from you, one hand returning to work at your clit, his own cock looking so hard that it must hurt.

“Astarion, please,” you begged, reaching out for him, your lover effortlessly evading your grasp as he worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Not yet, my love,” he chided lowly, knowing you could do little to resist his efforts right now. “I rather enjoy getting you so worked up. I could spend hours listening to your pretty cries as I bring you over the edge again and again, but I suppose that potion is only good until sunup, and I am so hungry.”

“Then come here,” you prompted, already feeling clearheaded from the vibrancy potion rejuvenating your blood supply so quickly.

“How could I refuse?” he replied happily, slotting himself between your legs.

Wrapping your legs around his back, you pulled him down, the vampire smoothly lining his cock perfectly to hit deep inside you as you pulled his mouth to your neck.

“You are too perfect,” Astarion murmured against your neck before biting down.

You decided it was better for you to start strong while you still had the blood supply to energize you, using your legs around his hips to start a slow but deep rhythm. Astarion needed very little coaxing to keep up, one hand coming up to angle one of your legs higher, the resulting shift making you cry out as he started to hit against a spot inside you that only he had ever been able to find.

You had always prided yourself on being the talker of your little group, able to talk your way in or out of trouble when needed. But here, under the snarky vampire you had come to cherish more than anything, you were wordless, barely able to manage more than his name as Astarion moved his focus from your neck to thoroughly ruin you, blood-red smirk telling you he knew exactly what he was doing with every grind of his hips.

It took almost embarrassingly no time for you to finish again, Astarion’s keen senses picking up on it immediately without you having to say a word.

“I do so like to see you like this, darling,” he said, slowly his pace down as you came down from it. “So thoroughly ravaged that you couldn’t recite a spell if you tried.”

You knew that he wasn’t unaffected, the slow roll of his hips telling you that much, but you found yourself determined to exhaust him just as badly, a tall order for someone of his stamina, but you were going to try your best.

With as much grace as you could manage with legs that felt like jelly, you withdrew from under him, pushing him back so he was sitting back, staring at you with loving eyes more black than red as you climbed onto his lap, settling back down on his cock, intent on riding him until he lost himself.

Astarion’s hands quickly found the back fastenings of your bra, unhooking it with a satisfied growl and tossing the garment aside, allowing him access to lean down and lave kisses and bites across your chest as you continued to ride him hard.

You were slamming your hips into his now, running a hand through his hair, his increasingly loud groans of your name telling you that he was finally getting close. With a shuddered breath, his hands went down to your hips, holding you still against him as he came, teeth sinking into your neck once again in tandem.

You slowly stroked his hair, in no rush to free yourself from his embrace, even as you could feel stray droplets of blood running down your neck and onto your chest.

With a pleased sigh, Astarion’s hands went from your hips to around your back, pulling back from your neck to see you smiling at him, the sight sending him leaning forward to kiss you, his peaceful expression one you could look at forever and never get tired of.

“Here I was thinking all I had to thank that grotesque nautiloid for was my freedom,” he mused between kisses. “If it hadn’t found you too, I’d probably be dead, hunted by that gur and delivered to my death. Never thought I’d be so grateful to a damn illithid for plucking me off the street.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “This makes even the whole parasite insertion thing worth it, if I get to be here like this with you.”

“How sweet,” he huffed in response. “I however could have done without Gale’s lectures on morality. And Lae’zel’s snoring.”

“And the Withers lecture about how you were distracting me from my quest,” you added with a laugh, recalling the at-the-time awkward talk with the skeletal man the morning after you and Astarion had first slept together.

“I don’t know about that, my dear,” Astarion replied slyly. “You did seem a touch distracted after that first night. I recall you stepping on several fire mines that Shadowheart had warned us of not five minutes before. Hard to blame you though, I mean really, just look at me.”

“Having fun?” you sulked, pulling back from him to cross your arms across your chest, trying to appear annoyed but fully aware your point was not well made considering he was still inside of you.

Astarion didn’t let you get far, arms pulling you back in. “Not so fast, my love. As I recall, my reward was to last until sunrise, and I intend to reap it in full.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #reader is tav #tav is a sorcerer #can be read as human/elf/half-elf #smut #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate astarion #reader insert

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 9 months

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I was exactly halfway into my second pregnancy, and up until that point, we were so ecstatic to be expecting again — a baby we’d been praying for. We kept talking about and imagining the joy it would be to bring our new baby home to meet our 2-year-old daughter. But at my 20-week ultrasound, a day that is supposed to be full of excitement and awe, we received devastating news. Our baby, a second daughter, had many severe and insurmountable skeletal and organ issues. Fetal specialists told us that it was extremely unlikely she could survive because all her major organ systems had significant development issues. We were blindsided and heartbroken, and yet somehow clear-minded. We chose to do what we believed was best for our unborn daughter as well as for our family; because that is what you do as parents. And we saw the choice we ultimately made as an act of love for her. We respect and honor that other parents have chosen — and will continue to choose — the only other option our doctor suggested to us — to let the pregnancy take its natural course and provide specialist or palliative care as needed. And that is the point. Individuals and their families — no matter where they happen to live — must be able to make the best choice for them. They need to be free to choose their own act of love. I believe now more than ever that anyone’s reason for seeking an abortion is valid. Who are we to say it isn’t? What we didn’t know when we made our decision was that in addition to being so difficult emotionally, it would be made so much worse by the abortion bans recently enacted in Idaho. Because of these cruel laws, my Idaho doctors could not provide me with an abortion — something they could easily have done before Roe v. Wade was overturned — in my own community supported by family and friends. We had to spend the following days cold-calling countless clinics in nearby states where abortion is still legal, but found out that because of all the other new abortion bans in states across the country, many clinics had closed, most had no open appointments for several weeks, and still others considered my pregnancy, at 20 weeks, too far along for me to receive care. The thought of waiting out this pregnancy, possibly for weeks, or however long, while trying to get through the day working as a chiropractor and still being active and present for our toddler was more than I could handle. All I could think about was whether the daughter I was carrying was already suffering; my anxiety and sadness were overwhelming. We both felt hopeless and heartbroken until we reached a Seattle clinic with a last-minute cancellation. Although relieved, there was so much we had to do to get there in the haze of our grief. There were flights to make, hotels to book, a car to rent and medical care our health insurance would not cover because we were going out of state to access and receive it. One of the most tragic — and degrading — parts of our situation was knowing that people in my home state of Idaho believe this is acceptable, denying me bodily autonomy. We will always be grateful to the clinic and team in Seattle for offering us professional, compassionate care. I am a person of faith and for months after my abortion, I kept telling Brandon there had to be something positive that would come out of this experience. Several months later, I learned that the Center for Reproductive Rights was putting together a challenge to Idaho’s abortion laws, and I knew immediately that moving forward as a plaintiff in the case was something I had to do. I’m proud to be one of the many women and doctors challenging and broadening these laws. Physicians in Idaho must have greater discretion over when abortion exceptions are warranted, and the decision should be the patient’s in consultation with their doctors.

#Jillaine St. Michel #abortion

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queenlucythevaliant · 2 months

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So uh. You guys know I love The Last Battle. But more and more I'm becoming convinced that there's at least as much Ragnarok in there as Revelation. Quite possibly more, if we're going by page count. In the Bible, we're given a picture of God's sovereignty; in Ragnarok, we get pure Northern fatalism. The Last Battle has both, but until the last couple of chapters it's definitely skewed towards the latter.

Main case in point: the literal battle. We don't really get a last, hopeless battle to fight in the Bible. We're faithful witnesses, martyrs, and eventually victors alongside Jesus, but at no point in Scripture do God's people have to (get to?) grab our swords and die in desperate battle with the Enemy. The picture Scripture gives us is a little bit anticlimactic, actually.

Ragnarok, on the other hand, is this tragic losing battle where all the gods die, but get to take their enemy out with them. The world ends in this great, hopeless clash and the cycle starts again. It's tragic and mournful it's intensely narratively satisfying. It's clearly the stronger influence on the climax of Lewis's The Last Battle.

That's not necessarily a bad thing, mind you. I love the hopeless, elegiac quality that The Last Battle derives from its Northern influences. However, one of the things that really sets the Narnia books apart from most other children's fantasy is the fact that the kids' agency is usually subordinated to Aslan's power. The Pevensies don't save the day in LWW, for example, despite being the subjects of an ancient prophecy; they mostly sit back and let Aslan do his thing.

As such, I can't help but wonder what a version of The Last Battle without a last battle would look like. What if our heroes never got to pick up their swords and go down fighting? I don't think it would be a better story necessarily (Jack is on record saying that if you're looking for a religion with a really compelling story, you can do a lot better than Christianity - and then proceeds to cite the Norse mythos as an example). However, I'm still quite curious what it would look like. Food for thought.

#maybe I'll try my hand at it one of these days idk #i just finished a piece exploring the norse influences that are already there so it would probably be a while at any rate #but yeah. the dividing line between Ragnarok and Revelation in LB is very much the stable door #narnia #pontifications and creations #chapter one

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 7 months

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What It Is to "See" in Trigun

"You can really lose yourself in that blue sky... Ah... There I go again. Rem... It's silly, isn't it... that I'm still thinking about... how I want to show it to you."

The theme of sight, showing, and eyes comes up quite a lot in Trigun. This isn't exactly an in-depth analysis, more just an examination of what "seeing" really is, at least in the context of this manga.

A notable recurring thing that happens in many of Knives' scenes is the obscuring of eyes and faces, either others (Vash, usually) or his own.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 7. One is of young Knives, his hand obscuring most of his face. His thumb is bleeding from where he's bitten it, and it streaks blood next to his open left eye. The other is also of young Knives, his face shadowed dramatically. His right eye is closed and crying. His left is wide open, ringed in darkness and blood from where his thumb has trailed down his face. End ID.]

The obscuring of one eye in the scene where Knives decides to crash the ships makes it so he only looks through one of his eyes - or, like he is only seeing one perspective, or one side to things. Knives, in his fear and anger, blinds himself to seeing anything other than what he already expects. In the second image, he is torn between a closed crying eye and a wide open one, dragging blood down the side of his face. He chooses the path of blood over tears, and refuses to change this from this point on.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. A younger Legato leans over with a stricken expression. His right eye is obscured by his hair as tears spill from his right. End ID.]

As a bonus note, Legato's hair often conceals that same eye that Knives has obscured on himself, perhaps a visual representation of not only him also seeing only one path forward, but also that his path is one of devotion to Knives. Elendira's hair does much the same.

We also have the cult known as the Eye of Michael - "Eye", which counter to its name, actually blinds its disciples into again, only seeing one perspective - looking through only one eye. Half of Chapel's face is frequently shadowed. In the "shoot" scene, only Wolfwood's left eye is fully visible - as, even though he makes a definite point, he himself is genuinely rather hopeless at this point, only seeing one path and one perspective.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 2. From a slightly overhead perspective, Wolfwood pulls the gun Vash is holding and aims it at his own head. Only his left eye is visible. End ID.]

It's why it's pretty significant that we start to see both his eyes in Volumes 9 and 10, and why I think it matters that he died with his eyes open.

Livio and Razlo are interesting in this regard too. Split between the two eyes, Livio with his obscured right eye and Razlo with his exposed left. When Livio cuts his hair, his eye becomes more visible, like something of a balancing - but it doesn't end there. Throughout the fight against Elendira, when the two are working together, both their eyes can be seen. They even do a switch, with Razlo being shown on the right, and Livio on the left, as if to show, through their conversation, that they have learned to see each other's perspectives better, and work as a team - they have learned to "see through each other's eyes".

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. The first is Razlo shown from the right, eye wide and grinning as he rushes forwards. The second is Livio shown from the left, sweating in exertion. End ID.]

Speaking of seeing through other's eyes, we have Hoppered and Meryl's unwilling vision of Vash's memories, which, while incredibly traumatic, also gave them a new perspective they otherwise couldn't have had. This moment is actually key for Meryl to understand Vash as a person on a deeper level, to communicate what she knows about him to others, and to understand why he felt like he had to do everything alone... so that she could make it clear that he no longer had to.

Meryl and Vash, in particular, share in that painful past, and have come to the same conclusion about it - things take time to heal, but it's always worth it to try, and to work with others to bring a brighter world about.

This "seeing the world through another's eyes" is a running theme all throughout the story, and it's the reason for the first quote at the beginning of this write-up.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 7. Young Vash stares, eyes wide, as Rem cries and says to him, "Let's see the world together, let's walk through it together. Because the world... I swear, it's not just full of worthless people." End ID.]

Vash doesn't just want Rem to see the beautiful blue sky, he wants to see it with her, because that was what he needed when he was a young kid, fresh from the trauma of discovering Tesla, and unable to see the good in the world all alone. He needed another perspective, someone who could show him something other than hopelessness and fear. Instead, he had to force himself to search for it alone.

When he wants to show Rem that blue sky, it's because he wants to show her he's found something worthwhile and good. Just like she promised. It's not all awful.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 10. Amidst two panels of Vash's outstretched hand and Wolfwood falling towards him, on a white background, he thinks "That's why, after everything's been said and done, I wanted to see tomorrow with him. Isn't that right... Wolfwood?" End ID.]

When he wants to "see" tomorrow with Wolfwood, it's a promise of sticking together and of continuing to offset each other's perspectives - they trust each other to be their other set of eyes that makes seeing the hope in the world, and other pathways and options and interpretations different from their own just that much easier. Vash sees a future and a hope outside of fighting Knives through Wolfwood, something he previously could not do.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 14. Ethereal looking feathers fall over a crowd of civilians, who look upwards at them with varying expressions of shock and curiosity. End ID.]

And when the Plants share their memories with humans, and the humans respond with tears, it's the ultimate culmination of what it is to "see" in Trigun - to see is to understand another's story and their personal plight.

To see is to understand is to hope for the better for yourself and for others, and that puts you on the path to slowly but surely healing. To making a change for the better, to finding that light in the dark. That blank ticket.

#storyrambles #i think this one got away from me guys. sorry if it doesn't make sense. sigh.#trigun #trimax #trigun spoilers #trigun meta #trigunbookclub #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.

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roz-aphroditesdaughter · 2 months

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The End (Stars Always Seem To Fade)

Luke Castellan x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.16k

WARNINGS: MAJOR PJO SPOILERS (especially The Last Olympian), death, stabbing, slight mention of sex, mentions of betrayal, some swearing, violence, cringe, pure sadness, ANGST, unhappy ending.

A/N: Hey, y'all I'm new here. I'm just gonna drop this fic and run, but just wanted to let y'all know that I did take some quotes directly from the book and I do not claim those words as mine. What's mine is mine and what is Rick Riordan's is Rick Riordan's. Also, I based this a bit on the song "The End (Stars Always Seem to Fade) by The Warning.

You sobbed on the elevator floor as it made its way up to Olympus, as slowly as possible, it seemed to you. Luke was the only thought that ran through your mind.

Memories of his friendship when you first arrived at Camp all those years ago. Of him teaching you to fight with a sword. Of your first kiss with him, of your first time with him. He had been your first everything; he had been your everything.

You never forgave him for betraying you. He would never forgive you for betraying him, for being Percy's spy.

You knew that it was all going to end today. No matter how it ended, though, you needed to see him. Even if he wasn't Luke anymore and it was only Kronos inside him.

The elevator dinged, signaling that you were now on Olympus. You pulled yourself and your sword off the floor and as soon as the door opened, you ran. You ran as fast as you could to the throne room, praying to whoever would listen that you would get there on time before everything went down.

You burst into the throne room to find Luke -- or, Kronos -- disarming Percy with Backbiter.

"STOP!" you yelled, catching Kronos's attention. He made his way toward you, slashing with Backbiter, but you blocked the hit with your own sword. "Luke, it's not too late to stop this. This is going to end one way or another."

Kronos roared. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

You smirked. "We both know Luke isn't dead. I've been around you for the past few months. Luke's fighting and I'm sure you've noticed that he's one stubborn bastard."

Kronos pushed against your sword but you stood your ground.

"Luke, please," you whispered. "I know you're scared but I need you to fight. Fight him." You let out a soft sob. "And I need you to know that despite everything, despite the betrayal, the lies, the blood on our hands, I am still in love with you. And I know that love is hopeless now, but my love for you never died. So fight, Luke!"

"I will crush you, child!" Kronos screamed as he continued pushing against you.

"No, you won't. Keep fighting. You're still holding Kronos back even now."

"LIES!" When Kronos pushed again, you lost your balance and he struck your face, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you fell to the ground.

You took a quick look around you, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover were all watching, Annabeth was crying, but they were as safe as they could be in this situation.

Kronos loomed above you with Backbiter raised. "To the farthest star and back..." you said. You laughed. "Our stupid little saying."

Kronos stared at the sword in your hand and he staggered. His eyes snapped to the blood on your chin. "The farthest star."

He gasped. "Y/N," he whispered, but it wasn't Kronos's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward as you stood up. "You're bleeding...."

Immediately, you grabbed Backbiter from him, throwing it to the side and allowing it to spin into the hearth.

"Y/N!" Annabeth shouted. You turned and he slid her dagger to you, the dagger Luke had given her so many years ago. You picked it up and nodded your thanks to her.

Kronos growled. "Stupid girl." His whole body appeared to be glowing and turning gold, just as his eyes were.

He gasped once again. Luke's voice pleaded with you, "He's changing. Help. He's... he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please--"

"NO!" Knronos bellowed. He stumbled toward Backbiter in the hearth. You were frozen where you were, just watching as Kronos grabbed the sword from the hearth before screaming in pain and dropping it.

Luke turned back to you and he fell onto his knees. You carefully went to him. "Please, Y/N."

You kneeled in front of him. Tears fell from his eyes. You wiped them away. You took a moment there to memorize him. His dark curls you loved to run your fingers through as you lay on his chest. His ears you loved to whisper dirty jokes and sweet nothings into. His eyes you loved to get lost in. His scar, nose, and jawline you loved to place kisses on. His lips you loved to make out with.

"Can you control him?" you asked.

Luke nodded as he moved one of his charred hands to cup your face. You moved closer to him, and then you kissed him. You kissed him knowing it would be the last time.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his. "Show me where it is," you whispered.

He unlatched the side straps of his armor to expose some skin under his left arm. He took gentle hold of your hand holding Annabeth's dagger. He never once broke your gaze.

"I love you," he said before you both stabbed the dagger into his Achilles Heel.

Luke screamed, his eyes glowed. The throne room shook as an aura of energy surrounded Luke, glowing so bright you had to shut your eyes and remove your hands from him to cover your face.

It went silent.

When you opened your eyes, you found Luke lying by the hearth. Around him was a circle of ash. His left side was bloody. His eyes -- his beautiful brown eyes -- were open.

You pulled his head into your lap and pulled the knife from him. "Hi," you said, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled up at you despite the pain. "Hi."

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover came closer to you and Luke. Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

Luke gazed at her. "I'm so sorry."

"You were a hero in the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium," Annabeth promised.

Luke weakly shook his head. "Think... rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."

"Overachiever," you chuckled.

He smiled again up at you. "Y/N, I've loved you ever since you stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood and I never stopped loving you. Through all of it. I'll never stop loving you. To the farthest star and back."

Tears flowed down your face. "We really should have come up with a better saying. That was horrible."

"What? What could be better than a saying we came up with as cringey and stupid sixteen-year-olds?" He laughed then winced.

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can--"

"Grover," Luke interrupted. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing..." He coughed.

He gripped Percy's sleeve. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again."

"I won't," Percy replied. "I promise."

Luke nodded then looked back at you. "I love you... to the farthest--" he coughed, "--to the farthest star and back, Y/N."

His eyes closed and his body went slack.

A sob tore through you.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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loki-cees-all · 2 months

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Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.

Chapter W/c : 8.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on.

His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless.

Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew.

The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer.

She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place.

He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again.

Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were.

But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers.

The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her.

As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago.

Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something.

Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy.

And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing.

Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…

As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive.

He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it.

Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs.

Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that.

Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him.

He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind?

Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already.

But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?

Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating?

Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted?

“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said.

This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?”

“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”

“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”

That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?

Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”

The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…”

Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly?

“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow.

Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?”

“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”

What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.

“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”

“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that.

She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”

Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions.

Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility.

But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before.

He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer.

His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”

The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible.

Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.”

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring.

“It was nothing,” he told them both.

He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain.

Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him.

But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies.

“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand.

The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?”

His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…”

It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name.

It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that.

The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged.

A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered.

Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead.

He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be.

So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?

“Loki?”

Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava.

Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on.

Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake.

“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.

“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.”

Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again.

“It’s alright. Take your time…”

Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble.

His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand.

His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell.

The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber.

Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue.

Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better.

Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate?

Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle.

Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture.

Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck.

And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much.

Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept.

Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close.

When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on.

Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole.

“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?”

She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.”

A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again.

“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly.

The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.”

Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first.

“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?”

Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much.

“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.”

The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?”

“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all.

“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control.

Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before.

“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…”

Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin?

He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control.

Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed.

Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place.

But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons.

After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one.

His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy.

Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind.

A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.

Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings.

Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all.

And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed.

All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be.

For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side.

Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy.

His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away.

But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.

But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please.

After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him.

On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it

Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on.

Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure.

Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day.

In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse.

And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had.

Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he.

Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan.

The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about?

Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?

No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed.

The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter.

The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone.

“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”

The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.”

She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…”

Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”

“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?”

He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…”

“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…”

Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle.

But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself.

“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?”

Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?”

“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…”

The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?”

From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.

Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was.

It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it?

Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name.

“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…”

After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded.

“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?”

Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long.

Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again.

Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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