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steviesbicrisis · 2 years

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Are you dating Eddie Munson?

I haven't stopped thinking about this AU idea so I decided to write a little bit more! I have other stuff in mind so I might write other scenes too, we'll see. A little summary for you:

Eddie and Steve have been dating for a few months now, and things couldn't go better between them. Being a popular kid and all, Eddie's love life is the talk of the campus, and everybody seems to wonder: what does Eddie Munson see in that ordinary freshman?

Steve doesn’t how it’s possible, but he's pretty sure words are moving around the page in front of him; some are blurry, others have a messed up order and a few are totally jumping out.

It wouldn't be the first time that happens to him, either. Sometimes it's impossible to focus, and the more he tries the fastest the words escape from him.

There's no solution for this either. Steve would never admit out loud how stupid he is, not over his dead body, so he'd rather stare at the same paragraph for hours than admit he doesn't understand. Robin is sitting across from him, eyes focused on the same book but a different paragraph, she looks deep in thought and Steve would bet she is far ahead of him. Steve shifts in his seat, pulling the book closer so she won't see he's still at the beginning of the chapter.

He looks back at the page, determined to at least finish reading it - the bare minimum - before they have to go to class.

«Hi, sorry to bother you but I have to ask - are you and Eddie Munson dating?»

Steve grips his book, because of course, as if his morning isn't going shits already, he also has to deal with this. Again. He gives one last glance at the paragraph before looking up «sorry, didn’t catch your name…?» he says instead, giving the girl the fakest smile he can master.

He is sure Robin is containing a laugh behind her book.

«Uhm, I’m Stacy» she’s taken aback, and a little annoyed «so, are you? dating.»

«I don't know for how much longer,» he says, teeth clenched. And really, he knows he's being dramatic and he knows that it's just an innocent question. Hell, he'd rather have them blatantly ask him than flirt with his boyfriend behind his back, but when you get asked the same question a million times over, you're bound to get a little pissed.

«Excuse me?»

«I mean, isn't that what you wanted to hear? You would be happy if I did, wouldn’t you? How about I do you a favor and write it down so you also have proof to show! Hell, I could make a fucking poster and hang it somewhere, so you and the rest of the student body will know for sure and will leave me the fuck alone.»

The girl - Stacy - takes a step back, her eyes fixed on Steve in a comical expression of shock and disbelief. She then turns to look at someone, probably mouthing something about Steve to her friends, like "can you believe this guy?" or "Munson must be crazy".

«Are we done?»

Stacy doesn't even bother to answer, she gives him a look of "you are insane" and walks away.

«Steve-»

«I know okay?» he interrupts Robin, not wanting to hear it «it’s stupid and I should let it go, but it pisses me off.»

«Then talk to Eddie! he could do something» she suggests, closing her book. It’s time for their first lecture. Steve hasn't even managed to finish the paragraph in two hours. Shit.

Talking with Eddie would be the better choice, it doesn’t make it any easier.

---

Steve is finally done with his last lecture and he's cutting through the inner courtyard to reach Robin at the entrance Hall. People have been whispering around him all day so he knows not only that the Stacy girl has no shame in pursuing taken men, she also has a big mouth.

Someone catches up with him and puts an arm around his middle.

«So, what is this thing about you breaking up with me with a billboard? Let me tell you it won’t work - I’m a sucker for drama and attention» Eddie presses on his side, his face only a few inches from Steve's. His smile is an amused one.

From the start, Eddie never shied away from physical touch: once he was sure Steve was comfortable with it - and not only he was, he loved it - there was always a part of Eddie in contact with him, whether it was an arm over his shoulders, fingers in his hair, hand on his back. Accordingly, they rarely did more than that in public, because even tho they were not hiding their relationship, homophobes still exist in 2022 and they live in Indiana.

Steve rolls his eyes and looks the other way, clenching the books he's carrying in his arms. Eddie's presence is enough to make him feel better, but he wants to stay mad «your groupies are delusional. And drop that grin or I might actually take on that billboard idea. I’ll make a giant one, over the main entrance» his tone is deadly serious but Eddie knows him better than to believe anything he's saying. He covers his grin with one hand, just in case.

«I know you're still smiling, Munson. I have a huge sheet and red paint at home and I'm not afraid to use it! It will look like that scene in Harry Potter, with the bloody writing on the wall and everything.»

Eddie can't believe that his boyfriend - who barely knew what Lord of the Rings was before they started dating - has just laid out a Harry Potter reference for him like it was a daily occurrence. He wants to kiss the daylight out of him, but that would make him actually mad.

So he puts his other arm around his stomach, caging him. They're forced to a stop.

«I'm sorry baby, you're just so cute all worked up,» Eddie says, containing himself from gushing all over him. Steve still avoids his gaze, but he's clearly melting under Eddie's attention. Pet names and physical touch always get through him.

«I'm glad one of us is having fun» Steve deadpans.

Eddie keeps one of his arms around his waist and lifts Steve's chin up with his free hand «I'm not gonna lie, it is kinda funny. And you are very cute and hot at the same time - somehow - but» he emphasizes the last word, dramatically, « I don't want you to be upset so, talk to me.»

Steve is a little embarrassed. He knows it doesn't matter, he's been through this before. People love gossiping, and he really doesn't care what they say. But also, he used to be the one on the other side, no one has ever questioned him being with anybody, or has given him that look of disgust he got from Eddie's most loyal fans.

Even so, Eddie has nothing to do with it.

«I'm sorry. I get you're some sort of rock star here, and I love that for you, I really do, but...» he's struggling to find the right words «... I don't know, I guess I'm a little jealous.»

«of the groupies?»

«No! Well, I don’t enjoy their presence, for sure. It’s more-» he’s trying to find the right words, Eddie rubs his palms on his back to encourage him «it’s about you. But not you - you, it's the way you carry yourself, like you were made for college! And everyone here can tell, as much as they can tell that I wasn't. I barely know which class I’m taking when, I don't understand what I'm studying and I feel like everyone here already knows what they’re doing, like they went to college before going to college, if this even makes any sense… and, I don’t know, it’s hard already when you know that you’re fucking up, but when everyone else knows and wonders why the great Eddie Munson is dating you of all people- it’s not great. But also, I can't even read a simple introductive chapter without getting a headache, so I get why people might have some reservations against me, I just wish they would keep it for themselves instead of bugging me every second of my life!»

While he was talking, Eddie had made them both sit at one of the picnic tables scattered around the court, he realizes.

It's clear to both of them that Steve's outburst isn't just about the gossip.

«I had no idea this was bothering you this much,» Eddie says, earnestly.

Steve starts fidgeting with Eddie's rings on his right hand, his left arm is still on Steve's back. He feels pathetic, bothering his boyfriend with trivial matters and his stupidity.

«It's not a big deal» he tries to take back some of his words, but Eddie interrupts him immediately.

«It is a huge deal if it bothers you this much. Plus, I get some curiosity about us, but asking you almost every day is just, fucked up.»

«Well, that's popularity for you. I thought you had figured this out by now» Steve jokes.

«Well, I was supposed to learn how to manage it from an expert, but somehow I always get distracted when he lectures me» he manages to make Steve chuckle. «But let's talk about college for a second. It flatters me that you think of me as a perfect social butterfly, but do I need to remind you that I came to you a couple of months ago because I couldn't take it anymore? Also» he shifts in his seat, taking Steve's hands in his «you're not giving yourself enough credit. College is fucking hard, man, especially first year. Everything is so big and serious and different compared to high school, you think I was this confident in my first year? it takes time to adjust, maybe even more for you since - well - you used to have the school at your feet. So trust your gorgeous, perfect-»

«I never said you were perfect.»

Eddie ignores him «-super famous boyfriend: you're doing great, you'll get there and even if you don't, there's no shame in failing. Okay?»

Steve stares at him for a few seconds, then nods «okay. But I don't think I can stand more people questioning your sanity for dating me.»

«Honestly, I'm pretty sure you misread the whole thing. They're totally thinking “why is Eddie Munson dating this hottie of all people? I don’t stand a chance”» Steve laughs, Eddie gets up «but just to be sure they won't bother you anymore...» he jumps on the picnic table, and Steve's eyes widen comically.

«Eddie what are you doing?? Come down!» he knows his boyfriend and his love for big grand speeches too well to not guess what he has in mind.

Eddie blows him a kiss «Attention everyone! Your favorite music department student has an announcement to make!» some people from said department immediately cheer and he thanks them with an exaggerated bow. Steve hides his face in his palm, knowing there's no way he can stop him now.

«I've heard there has been some confusion so let me clear the air: I, Eddie Munson, have been involved in a consensual, very sexual» Steve makes a strangled noise and a few people whistle «but also romantic relationship with this hot piece of ass right here» he puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders, leaving him no way to escape «Steve Harrington» he bends forward, Steve looks up at him and Eddie gives him a quick upside-down peck, as to reinforce the concept «who isn’t going to break up with me today, tomorrow or never. So, it’s none of your fucking business but if any of you shitheads has any concerns on this matter, you know where to find me. Thank you for your attention» he jumps off the table, the curious students who had stopped to witness the scene are giving a mix of incredulous, baffled and admiring reactions. Eddie barely cares, his eyes are on Steve.

«I fucking hate you» Steve immediately tells him.

«No you don’t» he's smirking.

«I'm breaking up with you right now.»

«No, you aren't, Stevie» his smile is somehow even bigger.

«I really, actually, genuinely hate you,» Steve says, hugging him. Eddie hugs him back, tight.

«How are you feeling?» Eddie whispers in his ear.

«I wanna say better but then I'm validating you putting up a show every time we have a problem.»

«I am nothing but a humble knight serving his Majesty the King,» he says, using a pompous tone for his character.

«I need no man saving my regal ass, thank you very much.»

When they reach the main Hall, Eddie's arm once again around his middle, Robin is waiting for them, a mischievous grin on her face «Excuse me» she addresses Steve, loudly «are you the famous Hot-Piece-of-Ass engaged in a consensual and very sexual relationship with Eddie Munson?»

Steve flips her off as Eddie laughs and high-fives her.

Let's just say, the nickname will stick with Steve for a while.

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oceansssblue · 1 month

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100 CELEBRATION – PROMPT 8. PIRATES AU

HUNTER/F READER 💖💔🔥

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, SCARS, BLOOD AND WOUNDS, STRONG DERROGATIVE LANGUAGE TOWARDS WOMAN, MENTIONED DEATH OF A PARENT. SEX SCENE (NOT VERY EXPLICIT, MORE SENSUAL&SUGGESTIVE).

Note: This came out to be so long! Just so you have an idea, it's 30 pages of word doc. I'll divide it in chapters in this same post so you can continue with your reading easier if you need to do it in more than one go. Don't worry about the warnings, this is mostly adventure with fluff and just a tiny sprinkle of angst (happy ending and all). Upgraded Hunter to Captain. On another note, only 4 more prompts left for the 100celeb! Enjoy and please let me know what you've thought. Reblog if u can! XX, Blue :)

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1. The Deal

The stench of alcohol would have been overwhelming if you hadn't been living in this kind of atmosphere your whole life. It makes the air around you feel charged and warm; clinging to the old wood of the chairs, tables, and countertops alike. The crowd is loud and roars with fits of laughter; a fight or two breaking in the corner of the bar. You don't spare them a second glance. If you had been a proper lady, all of this might have scared you away; but no, you're no lady. You're a pirate.

You feel at home in places like this. There's drunk men, yes, and dangerous ones; but you've never felt more alive than surrounded by fellow pirates. There's freedom, banter, and songs so ancient everybody is able to sing along. Even the sporadic fights are a reminder that you're all human; that you get angry and make mistakes with consequences. Sometimes those in a position of power don't even look like one; just empty carcasses dolled up with pretty dresses and jewelry that somehow have learned how to move and talk. All practiced, meaningless smiles and repetitive conversation. This is nothing like it.

You're enjoying all of this while being alone and silent in the far end of the counter, perched up on one of the chairs. A patron or two have attempted a conversation with you tonight; though a quick, cold side glance has been enough to shoo them away. You're not a conversationalist; and you're on one of those melancholic moods today. Memories of your father and your youth fleets by your mind; like gusps of wind you can never catch. Still, even when distracted and lost in thoughts from a life time ago, a part of you is always vigilant; cataloguing changes in your surroundings and possible dangers. It's the reason why you hear the almost imperceptible change of the crowd straigthening their backs and their voices changing to a wary, expectant tone. Footsteps; a lazy, slow spring, light and cautious in it's feet. Ready to fight -or flee-.

You don't turn around to acknowledge the newcomer. For others it may seem like you don't even care for who approaches you or what could he want from you; perhaps it even makes you look arrogant and overconfident. But oh, you are paying attention; and even if your posture seems relaxed and nochalant with your back still facing the crowd –the aproaching stranger– the hand carefully positioned over the knife hidden in your left boot is perfectly ready to strike.

The footsteps come to a halt right behind you. The atmosphere in the bar turns tense. It must be someone of importance, to make the crowd react like that. If it weren't, people would have just continued laughing and drinking.

"You're hard to find".

Cryptic. It's a peculiar voice; you'll give him that. Deep and slightly raspy, though somehow smooth and warm at the same time. A bit of an incongruence. You know a lot about that.

You take a slow, long gulp of your whisky before answering; your index playing with the rim of the glass.

A hint of amusement slips into your answer. You can't help but play –just enough– with danger; you've always been like that.

"Perhaps you're just bad at searching".

He hums, not impressed with your comeback. Your ears pick up the sound of the man dragging the closest chair towards you. The tone of his voice –relaxed but quietly carefull– doesn't change while he sits down.

"That would be a bit ironic, considering who I am".

You've played with the moment long enough. You glance at the man sitting next to you; eyes quickly cataloguing his hard facial features, long hair, strong shoulders and trim waist. With that half-tattoed face of his and the red bandana across his forehead, he's hard not to place.

"Ah" your lips turn up in a tiny smile. "Captain Hunter, famous treassure-seeker and leader of the misterious Marauder. Yes, that would be quite the joke".

You can't help but feel in danger –and curious– being this close to him. This man is one of the most well-known pirates on this side of the Five Seas; you'd grown up at the same time the stories of the Fett brothers had grown as well. They were said to be eight; along a longer list of cousins and other distant relatives. Some had tried to join their crew under the pretense of being one of them; but their physical similarities were a dead give away. If there was a Fett around you, you just knew. They had the same bone structure, a sort of sharpness to their features, and brown or amber eyes that rooted you in place. There was no need to question it.

You've watched members of the Fett family here and there –some in bars you frequented, some walking across the harbor, a few even taking their pleasure with a lady in the protection of a dark alley at night–, but you've never once talked to one of them. There's always a first, you guess.

"To what do I owe the honor, then?" You ask, feigning desinterest though this is the most exciting thing that has happened to you in the last three months.

The pirate scans you in silence. You understand the flush the Fetts often pull from the ladies; he's got one hell of a stare. It takes all the years you have facing oponents for you to not squirm.

"I'm sure you've heard something around" he finally starts, his eyes turning to scan the crowd. "I'm planning to start a new adventure soon, all the way up to the North Sea. I'm looking for recruits".

You arch an eyebrow, not fooled by his vague explanation. You don't like when people do that on purpose; it means there's always things to hide.

"I thought you boys didn't let any stranger join your little family club" you answer, almost teasingly.

He looks back at you. He gives you a single word.

"Exactly".

It's heavy and full of meaning. He's pointing out you're no ordinary stranger; admiting that you're somewhat special. You're not gonna' lie; it strokes your ego a bit, even if you don't let that distract you.

"You need me" you realise with a smirk. That's the only reason he'd allowed you to join them. You must have something he can't find in nobody else. But what would that be? "Why?"

The pirate shrugs. So quiet, so misterious. You're intrigued.

"I hear you were born in Ionia. It would be useful, having a guide through the dangers of the North Sea. It's dangerous waters".

Your smirk widens.

"Mm, you've heard" you mock almost in a singing voice. "So you've studied me. Not many know I was born there. Ionia is too far away from here for anyone to cross-check".

Hunter's lips curve upwards in a faint smile.

"You're right with that. There are a lot of different and often oposite stories about you".

You hear the rest of the sentence even if he doesn't say it out loud; who knows which ones are true.

You fully turn your body towards him.

"And which one brought you to me?"

You'll say yes. He probably knows that too; you're not one to turn down a good adventure, and it would be a heck of one to be able to work with the Fetts.

You still want to have all the information before you accept.

"I admit all of them were pretty interesting" Hunter says, fingers tapping against the wood of the counter. "But there's only one that makes you unique".

It's involuntary; the way your face adjusts to a new proud and understanding smile.

"You need a diver" the puzzle slowly starts to make sense. "What treassure are you trying to find this time, Captain?"

Hunter's dark chocolate eyes sparkle with interest. He might be a feared pirate; but in his heart he's still a child dreaming of magic and fairytales, like all good pirates are. Like yourself.

"It's going to be a long journey. I need a diver that can hold their breath for at least twenty minutes underwater. There's only one place in the North Sea where I'd need a skill like that".

You find the last missing piece.

"The caves of Ilum" you realize, your own eyes brightening in wonder. "You're trying to find the Moon Kyber cristal".

It was your favorite story growing up; how a group of trained soldiers named "the Jedi" had learnt to canalyse the energy residing in a special mineral and used it to improve their fighting style. They were said to be extinguished –decimated in a great war in the Old Times–, and that the last of their kind had hidden his Moon Kyber cristal somewhere in the cold North Sea, burried in one of the Ilum caves. Pirates and sailors had tried to find it for centuries, desperate to fill their pockets with money or their hands with power; others, for the simple pleasure of owning a piece of history. But the Moon Kyber had never been found; soon forgotten in memories and often brushed aside as tales.

"And you're what, going to send me to explore each posible underwater cave you find?" You ask, wary about the execution of his plan.

He remains calm and unbothered.

"We could try it that way, but it would take us a bit too long for my taste. I've already done my work and I know exactly where to navigate" before you've had the chance to ask, he's already sending you a warning glance. "And I'm obviously not telling you. Can't risk you trying to get it on your own or giving the information to someone else".

You sigh in resignation.

"You want me to make a blind jump. To trust you. That all of this is true and I'm going to be safe in a ship full of men I know nothing about".

He answers with a single, final word.

"Yes".

You hum in thought. You don't. You don't trust him; and you don't trust you'd be safe with the crew of male strangers either. Perhaps he wants you to bring the cristal to him –if it exists– and then he'll get rid of you to enjoy the reward alone. Perhaps this is all a story and he needs you for something else. Who knows, he might even want to hand you to someone else for some sort of revenge. No matter. You'll be alert and you'll come out if this clean.

You make up your resolve and tilt your chin up at him.

"I'm asuming you'll sell the kyber and make a fortune from it" you point out, then state with a firm voice. "I want a third of the price".

Hunter snorts; the first real, uncontrolled reaction you pull from him.

"I have seventy men on board and you want a whole third of the reward. A bit ambitious, don't you think?"

You shrug. Negotiating is part of being a pirate. You know it's too much to ask, but it's just a start.

"Like you said, my skill is unique. We both can't get the Kyber without the other. You know where it is and I'm the only one able to get it. Good luck trying to find someone who can hold their breath for twenty minutes and swim in those freezing waters at the same time".

Hunter tries to make you back down with his stare and his silence; but you don't waver, and you defiantly stare back at him.

The pirate clenches his jaw once.

"Twenty-five percent" he conceeds.

You grin. You don't think this man is the type to soldier through an extense negotiation; and you're not in the mood for that yourself. You might have tried to go for a thirty percent some other time; but you'll consider it as a victory this once.

"Deal" you nod.

The Captain and you shake hands.

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2. Nightmares brought to life

You wake up to the king of your nightmares. You haven't seen Commodoro Palpatine in eight years; but he still manages to evoke the same feeling inside of you. Terror, anger, fear, pain. He's the one that killed your father eleven years ago; the reason why you're covered in scars you haven't allowed anyone to see.

"Hello, my dear" he smiles, a crooked, cold thing. "I was wondering when I'd have the pleasure to meet you again".

His fingers graze your shoulder while he walks around you like a vulpture waiting for the poor hurt animal to exhale his last breath; sending goosebumps through your skin.

You clench your fists; unable to tear yourself from his touch with the tight restraints they've put you in. The last thing you remember was walking outside of the tabern to get some sleep. You don't remember receiving any blow to your head, so it's possible they may have slipped a drug to your drink.

"What do you want from me?" You spit out, trying to hide your fear beneath a layer of ire.

Commodoro Palpatine laughs almost in delight.

"Straight to the point, I see" you hate the way he talks, so falsely sweet. "You've made a deal with a certain Captain lately. I want to make you a deal as well".

At this point in your life, his extense list of spies doesn't surprise you. You haven't seen him in eight years because he hasn't wanted to; not because he couldn't. It's the problem about him; he has everyone under his radar with promises of money, threats, and power.

"What deal?" You ask him directly, skipping the show of you trying to resist to his wishes. Better get this over with.

"You'll go on your little trip with Captain Hunter. You'll get the Moon Kyber for him, and once you return to land, you'll hand it to me".

You scoff, voice coming out in irritated muttering.

"And what makes you think I won't flee with it?"

Palpatine's dark smile could kill death itself.

"There's two things pirates always look for, my dear. Credits... And treasures" he finally shows you the small object that he has been hiding in his hand this whole time, an old pendant you recognise well. It belonged to your father –before he gave it to you in your eight birthday–; Palpatine must have teared it from you the day he tortured you and killed him.

Your body tingles in pain with the memory; your heart clenches. Even for pirates, credits don't have enough value compared to a few handfull of things. Your late father's pendant is one of yours. You need it.

For the second time in the week, you say the word again.

"Deal".

The emotions inside of you are vastly different.

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3. A girl versus a crew of men

The Marauder is everything you have ever imagined it would be. The ship is beautiful; dark wood and scarlet sails, with it's three mastils standing tall and a sharp bow to cut into the sea. The crew is as you expected it to be too; fierce and diligent, paired with a common distrust towards the new recruit -you–. On the first day, Captain Hunter gives them orders to let you be; though it does little to stop the glares and sneers as you move through the ship.

It doesn't matter. They'll get used to your presence; you all have a long trip up to the North Sea.

You can't help but feel excited. It's been a decade since you last stepped in home. You'd escaped Ionia with your father in an attempt to hide from Palpatine; and while Corus is full of dark memories and loneliness, you still keep a fond memory of Ionia. Of long dips in the water and a time when everything felt safe, easier. You know your return won't feel the same –not without your father by your side–; but you still long to see the white coast and it's dark, almost black waters. You've always find that to be a beautiful contrast.

You don't let Hunter out of sight. As weeks pass by, you can't help but make a habit of observing him. You're curious; and you still don't trust him. The wariness starts to dissapear with time; but it's a residue that always stays no matter how hard you scrub.

Hunter is as fierce as the rest of his men. Frown set and jaw tense, he barks orders around no-one dares to give a second glance. The ship advances so fast that you start to think that the way to the North won't take as long as you'd originally thought. It's a well oiled machine; his words are actions inmediately carried by his crew. There's a special kind of relationship between this men; Hunter might be their leader, and there might be a clear hierarchy, but they act so in sync and hold such a deep respect for each other that it's hard to see the lines between their positions. You've never seen pirates move and fight like that. Perhaps that's the reason for their fame and victories; the fact that they know each other so well, the fact that they trust each other to the bone. The fact that they're family. You wonder how it would feel to have so many siblings spread around the world and never feel alone.

To your surprise, you notice your relationship with the Captain shifting as well. With each harsh encounter you face by their side against other pirates, sailors, or the dangers of the sea, he seems to relax a tiny bit more around you, giving you more freedom to move around the ship without his gaze set upon you. The night you help one of his brothers –Echo– with a deep gash on his hand, he even offers you a nod and a slight curve of his lips you catalogue as a smile.

Alcohol has always been sailors favorite method of killing time; and facing the cold and loneliness of the night. Unfortunately, it does more than soothe one's worries away; it gives men courage, which in itself is not a bad thing, but if taken too far rum loosens tongues and problems arise. The night you finally cross the border of Corus's sea into the North one, everyone is happy and excited; bottles of rum being passed around the crew, everyone sprawled lazily in deck. Hours creep in between jokes, stories and laughter; eyes growing glassy and slowly blinking sleep away. As usual, you're sitting alone close to the bowsprit; a position that allows you a perfect vision of the rest of the ship. You're still close enough to hear them –since they're not bothering in whispering anyways–.

"Shut up, di'kut" one man playfully punches another's arm. "You're probably gonna' spend all your credits in a woman when we get back".

Everyone laughs and snickers, and the pirate in question shrugs with a radiant grin.

"You would understand why if you'd had experienced the warmth and pleasure that comes from being buried between a woman's legs. One day, vod" he rises his rum and takes a long gulp from the bottle.

The crowd roars in laughter, and the first man's cheeks light up in an embarassed red.

"Not my fault all the woman we happen to come across are whores, Blades" he mutters, as the chuckles slowly die around them. "I prefer to save my earnings for other things. And to save myself from who-knows-what disease".

The one named Blades smirks and doesn't let him go that easily.

"Well, you have a pretty pirate right there" he points at you with a jerk of his chin. "Why don't you try your luck with that one, mm?"

All eyes turn to you. They roam up and down your figure, considering the pirate's words. Like they've suddenly remembered you're a woman. And you're here, with them. The man Blades is taunting hesitates; but eventually nods tersely, and stands up to make his way towards you.

A shiver spreads through your spine. Though you don't think they'll try anything as a collective –not under Hunter's command– you can read the hunger in their eyes. This men have never been your friends –you're aware of that–, but neither have they acted as enemies. Now, though, you feel surrounded by sharks.

Even if your heart speeds up and emotions clash inside of you, you keep your breathing under control, casting your eyes downwards in order to look distracted and ocupied. You listen to his stumbling footsteps approaching you. Your left hand carefully moves towards your ankle, where you keep a blade cinched to it and covered by the fabric of your boot; waiting for the perfect second to move.

"Hey, gorgeous" he starts his line once he's just a step away from you, towering over your sitting position. "How about you and me go to have some fun below deck?"

"No, thanks" you answer feigning boredom, ears and corners of your vision still trained on him and the rest of the men avidly watching the interaction behind him.

He makes a disaproving sound with his tongue.

"Ah, come on, girl" he keeps trying, growing nervous at the thought of the rest of the crew watching his defeat. "Don't be a prude..."

He goes to grab your shoulder, but you're way faster than him. You swipe his legs of the floor with a quick strong movement of yours; and you're holding the blade to his neck in a blink. He's too stunned to say anything –watching you with wide eyes–; but the rest of the crew inmediately straightens up ready to defend him.

"The answer is no" you insist, voice low and dangerous, finally retracting your weapon and standing up and away. "Now I sugest you return to your place".

He does it without uttering a single word, perhaps still shocked from the surprise. Everyone seems to be. Surprised and wary. Perhaps your reaction has been a little too much; but once again, you're alone in a ship full of strangers –strangers that could turn on you in an unfair fight you'd had almost unexisting chances of winning–, and you need to send a message. You're no-ones plaything. And no one is going to touch you unless you want them to.

You sit back down quietly as well, studying the crowd in case of another altercation. Adrenaline pumps through your veins. There are some insults being spat under their breath and some whispering; but no one picks up another fight. Your eyes eventually find Hunter; who is standing up and watching the situation in front of the Foremast. He's tense –though you're not sure who exactly is he angry with–; and when his eyes bore into yours, your scars itch uncomfortably under your shirt. You tilt your chin up at him.

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4. Warm up

The Marauder is more or less two weeks away from the caves of Ilum. You can't help but feel a sort of peace as you stare into the horizon; an orange sun melting into black waters, setting everything on fire. It's beautiful. The air is already so much colder; though you know it's nothing compared to how freezing the North Sea is.

When the sun is completely extinguished and there's no longer light to guide the Marauder through the rocky coast of Ionia, Hunter gives the order to rest for the night. The crew bunkers down below deck –hiding from the cold– and you use the rare oportunity of being completely alone to take a quiet swim.

It's not that you're enthusiastic about going into the freezing waters at night. But it's been a few years since you did a long dive, and it's a good idea to start gaining a bit of practice. Your body needs to get used to moving in the North Sea again. It's not an easy task.

You carefully lower yourself on one of the boats until you touch the surface of the water. It's so black it acts like a perfect mirror under the moonlight; your eyes staring at your reflection without a clue of what could be hiding underneath. You try the temperature sinking a hand on the sea. Goosebumps inmediately rises on your skin.

Boots on and everything –any layer of clothing helps– you slowly leave the boat and dissapear under the water, teeth inmediately pressing against each other in an effort to cope with the paralising cold. It's almost as if it grips each one of your muscles and locks them in place, trying to drown you.

You get used to it for a few minutes first; then, your hands leave the edge of the boat. You close your eyes and remain floating with the minimum effort; legs gently moving to keep you close to the surface from time to time.

You train in a progression, just like you learnt when you were a kid. You first hold your breath for five minutes; then you do a dip of ten, then fifteen. When you come up for air again, you take another fifteen to rest. Although the water is freezing cold, your wet clothes and the wind makes the return to the sea for one last dive feel almost like a relief.

Twenty minutes gives you a lot of time to think. Your mind does a slow review of this last month in the Marauder; whatever you've happened to learn about members of it's crew, of Hunter. He's closest to other four pirates; Wrecker, Tech, Echo and Crosshair. They seem to be even more in sync than the rest. You notice they're the most different appearance-wise as well; perhaps that's what pushed them together, or maybe they have just known each other the longest.

You also think of Palpatine and your father. It doesn't sit well with you, hiding this second deal to the captain of the Marauder; but you have little choice. Palpatine wouldn't have let you go if you had refused; and you know he'll be waiting for your return. You'll find a way to fool him; but until you do, you'll keep that secret close to your heart. Who knows what would happen to you if Hunter or any of the Fetts discovered it...

Stress evaporates underwater. Your mind eventually empties; you're part of the sea. Time vanishes too.

You wake up from your trance with your lungs burning. You're forced to break the surface of the water; inmediately taking a quick breath of air in. Your head pounds; but you close your eyes and calm your agitated body down, anchoring your elbows to the boat and letting out a tired, panting sigh. Each gulp of air hurts for the first few seconds; until you regulate your breathing again. Exhausted and shivering –you really should get to warmth now–, you use what little strength you have left to pull yourself over into the boat and then lift it up to deck again.

Completely exhausted and curved forward with both of your hands resting against your knees, you don't even notice him until he speaks; his calm voice startling you and making you stand up straight again.

"You could have died and nobody would've even known".

His dark chocolate eyes are set on yours. This time, the surprise brought up by his unexpected presence makes them look innocent and young.

Water dripping onto the deck and clothes stuck to your skin, your answer comes out in a whispered shiver.

"That would have been really tragic" you agree, hugging your own body in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. "You'd never get to see your Kyber".

Hunter's lips and throat moves as if to speak; but then he stays in silence, observing you quietly with that intimidating stare of his. You can usually ignore it, but this time you feel the need to break the tension.

"I was getting myself used to this waters again. It's been eleven years since I was last in Ionia. I have a natural skill for diving and holding my breath, which I've been training since I was a kid, but believe it or not, I still need a bit of aclimatising".

"And you decided to do your first try at night without warning anyone".

You give him a shrug and a guilty smile.

"I can't really practice while the ship is moving, so it had to be at night... And I don't like others watching" it slips out.

Hunter hums. His eyes flicker down towards your collarbone, and you suddenly realise that with your loose shirt sticking to your skin, the very first of your scars is now visible. You inmediately tense and pull it back to place.

He notices it, but makes no comment.

"Your skin is starting to turn blue" he points out. "You should get to warmth".

"Guess I'll have to make myself a spot between your men under deck" you chuckle, trembling. "Steal a bed roll or two".

What Hunter offers doesn't leave your head in the next few days.

"You could take my bed. I can always bunker with Tech" the pause between the two of you is long, perhaps because you're both shocked by his words, and Hunter continues in an effort to downplay his sugestion. "We can't have you falling sick now, with no proper medics on board".

If Hunter's words surprises you, perhaps your answer shocks him as well.

"You could always stay".

There's a million of thoughts and emotions roaming in those dark eyes. For a moment, you think he'll pass; but when you shiver again, his gaze turns soft, warm, and he smiles.

"Let's go inside, then".

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5. Vulnerable

It's unfair. Hunter is, to date, the best sex you've had; and it's difficult not to want a repeat of that night when you see him everyday, and you're both trapped in the same ship in the middle of the sea. Maybe that's why you can't tear your eyes off of him; yes, the fact that he's good like that, and not the lingering doubt that you're starting to like him.

Hunter had treated you like only lovers in books did. He wasn't rough, though he certainly wasn't soft either; it was sensual, passionate, lips moving over bodies and hips joining in endless waves. You had been reduced to moan and whimpers; and you had left him breathless as well. Hunter had been particularly unselfish and considerate, mindful of your comfort and pleasure; and in a world of pirates and dangerous men, it had shocked you to your very bone. It was a bit scary, in fact; how it felt like he was undressing your every layer and pulling them apart even when you had remained hidden in most of your clothes all the time.

The tension between the two of you builds and builds while days pass; until you can't longer keep it locked inside.

You knock on his private room at night; and when he opens with an irritated expresion that quickly morphs into hunger and surprise, you all but jump him. You bite down onto his lower lip, ravenous, and he groans into your mouth; hands caressing your back before taking a firm hold on your hips and pushing you back.

"What?" You ask him, panting, face tilted up towards him.

Hunter's dark eyes scan you. Studies you; almost as if he doesn't quite understand.

You can't help yourself. You want him too bad; you're on fire, impatient, and you kiss him again when he stays in silence. He seems to forget whatever he was going to say; because he let's you push him backwards into his room, and tugs you to bed. His eyes close while you caress and kiss his body, taking his clothes off; and he only seems to come back to his right mind when you're seconds away of sinking onto his cock.

"Wait" he asks, fingertips digging into your hips while you take position over his hips.

He breathes heavily under your confused gaze; a hesitant expresion on his face. It's like he wants to tell or ask you something; but he's afraid.

You search his eyes; the hunger and eagerness, mixed with the confusion and wariness, and you suddenly understand.

"You think this is some sort of plan. A way of using you".

Hunter sighs, relieved he doesn't have to voice his worries out loud, and you answer with a dry laugh.

"And what is that plan, Hunter? Seduce my way into your heart and flee with the cristal?"

The silent is painful. It hurts; though you understand his waryness. You'd probably have thought the same had he looked for you again. The thought has crossed your mind; that doing this is dangerous, that it could complicate things. But you don't care; you're used to running the long way.

"Perhaps I'm using you" you taunt, and his eyes darken in a warning until you elaborate with a fervor you rarely let anyone see. "But to feel something other than anger, loneliness, ambition. There's no ulterior reason why I want to have sex with you. You don't trust me. And I understand. But you can".

You wait; eyes open and eager. Honest. You don't exactly know how this trip is going to end; but you've got no intentions of hurting him, and you'll try to avoid it as much as possible.

You just want to enjoy his body and affection now; feel that exhilarating pleasure again. Leave your head for a little while.

"I can try" he finally answers, taking a deep breath. His fingers take hold on the edge of your shirt. "I want to see you this time".

You tense; it's an involuntary reaction. Hunter gently caresses your hip with one hand, patiently waiting for an answer. You can read his words in his warm eyes; "You can trust me too".

Your voice is so low and meek he has trouble hearing you.

"I've never shown them to anyone" you whisper, biting onto your lip uncomfortably.

Hunter squeezes softly. He stays quiet; letting you decide.

It's dangerous. You already see him differently than anyone else; sharing this vulnerability with him is a big step. And like him, you have trouble trusting; you don't want to get hurt.

You look at him, sprawled under you, long hair tangled in a mess and warm brown eyes staring straight at you. Gentle hands, beautiful skin. Vulnerable. Patient.

Your trembling fingers pull off your shirt; leaving you exposed to him. You tightly shut your eyes and remain inmovile on top of him; Hunter breathes out and slowly reaches a hand towards your skin.

"Who?" He asks, because it's obvious this scars haven't been made by accidents, but inflicted by someone.

You shiver.

"Palpatine".

You don't have to specify. Even if he's from Ionia, like yourself, his power and cruelty extends everywhere.

"When your father died?" He quietly questions, cautious not to push you away.

You remember he had studied you before all of this.

You give him a sad smile.

"Yeah. I foolishly wandered alone once, when we were on the run, and he captured me first. He used to play this sick game with him... Where he would cut me open and leave a trail of my blood around, for my father to search and follow like a dog. It wasn't enough to just kill him. Palpatine is a monster, and he and my father were the oldest of enemies".

And then, a confession burried deep in your soul, because you're too fierce of a pirate to be scared of anything, and more so of just one man.

"He terrifies me" you whisper.

Hunter's hands take hold of your innocent face.

"He isn't here" he soothes you, tenderly. "You're safe with me".

He kisses you, and you swallow every worry down. The "he's closer than you think", and "he'll be waiting". They're your burdens to carry; your curse. Your secret.

For now, you let Hunter kiss you and guide you onto his cock; and you surrender to pleasure and oblivion.

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6. Ilum

A whole month of nights in Hunter's bed and the heartfelt conversations afterwards, the Marauder stops in a big formation of rocks in the region of Ilum. Hunter explains to you everything he knows about this place; and then it's your turn to play.

Every single man of the crew is waiting in deck, staring at you while you're lowered on one of the boats and take a few minutes to calm down and prepare yourself.

The moment is inevitable; and you jump headfirst into the water, ignoring the biting cold and calmly starting to swim towards the rocks. You stay close to surface at first. Once your hand comes into contact with the first of the caves, you anchor yourself to the rock as best as you can and take a deep breath.

"Here goes the first dive" you think to yourself, and you start to swim straightly downwards into the depths of the sea.

The first ten minutes feel easy after this last two months of training. You try to find some sort of entrance between the rocks; but to no avail, and once your lungs start to burn, you start your way up to surface again.

Panting heavily, you make a negative sign with your finger to Hunter, who is watching among the crew from the ship, spyglass in hand; and take ten minutes to calm yourself down again.

You nod and open your eyes; swimming to the next rock and signaling you're going down again. Ten minutes of swimming downward goes; the water getting colder and the pressure on your ears bigger. It borders on painful; but you push that to a second plane and focus on your research. Your eyes follow a group of tiny yellow fishes moving towards a gap in the underside of the rock; and you wonder if the treasure could be hiding in the other side. It's wide enough that you could carefully swim through it.

There's only one way to find out.

Resolved and confident, you start swimming forward, following the trail of fishes in what you now identify as an underwater tunel. It get's progressively darker the more you advance; and your lungs start to burn, making you worry about wether if you should start your way back or continue with the dive. But then the colour of the water slightly changes; dark blue instead of black, and then ligther in what has to be... light.

You swim faster, and faster, and faster; and then, you're suddenly taking a deep, rushed breath in in what you can now identify as a cave. You've never seen anything this beautiful. Thin rays of sunglight enter through tiny spots left between the rocks; partially iluminating the cave in a faint glow. There isn't just one cristal in here; but dozens of them, all different colours and shapes, stuck all over the rocks in both the cealing and walls. They shine and sparkle. This cave really feels magical. You get lost for some minutes staring at your finding; until your eyes fall in some mineral you've never seen before.

You swim closer, one hand clinging to the rocky wall to support part of your weight; studying the sparkling cristals curiously. It's a mix between grey and blue, and the size of a finger; they look like some sort of gemstone. You know this probably isn't what you're looking for; but it doesn't mean it's not special.

You continue searching; but you're unable to find the Moon Kyber. You sigh, tired, and close your eyes. You think of the stories; the supposed origin of this cristal. The Jedi. Kybers were thought to be almost alive; the Jedi believed some could be even heard as music. That the Kybers called them; had a natural affinity with some. You're no Jedi, and you don't really quite believe all of it; but perhaps there's some truth to what you nowadays know of history.

You take a deep breath in and remain with your eyes closed; focusing on the rest of your senses. The small movement of the currents against the rocky walls; the tiny fishes swimming around. Your presence, alive and warm; picture all the other gems around you. You stay like this for a few minutes, almost in a trance; until something shines over your closed eyelids, and even before opening your eyes, you already know what you're goint to find.

It's an amber colour, much smaller than what you had imagined, and shines like there's a tiny sun, liberating energy, trapped inside the cristal's walls. Even if you're not touching it, it feels warm; in ways you can't understand. You carefully close your fingertips around it; and the cristal almost comes off of the rocky wall inmediately, like it wants to go with you. A sincere smile forms on your face.

Your eyes travel back towards the other unidentified mineral you'd found in the cave. Your mind starts to connect the dots; an idea taking shape in your head. You take two pieces of the blue-grey mineral as well; and the kyber goes into your boot while one of the blue cristals sits on top of your tongue.

Shooting one last lingering glance towards the cave, you take a deep breath; and initiate the way back.

When your head pops out of the surface of the water after almost an hour of exploration, cheers and shouts sound from the men on The Marauder. You get back onto the boat; and they pull you back onto the deck. Your breathing is shattered, exhausted, and you smile tiredly at Hunter when he inmediately steps towards you.

"Did you find it?" he asks, eyes shinning, hands coming to rest onto your shoulders affectionately.

You make a chuckling noise with your throat and open your mouth, spitting the blue cristal into the palm of your hand. Around you, there's a chorus of disgusted groans and excited whispering.

"Yeah" you laugh, pinching the beautiful shinning cristal between your fingertips. "I got it alright".

Hunter's rare smile is just as radiant as the real Kyber; which remains hidden inside of your boot when you both join each other in bed hours later.

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7. Breaking hearts

While for everyone the journey from Ionia back to Corus is one of pure hapiness and bliss, you can't help but feel melancholic; like all things are coming to an end. It's not that you'll miss The Marauder dearly; but coming to port means a possible end to your's and Hunter's relationship, and that... That you'll miss.

You catch yourself glancing up at him all the time. He notices it, and you mask it under a small smile or a teasing wink; but inside, your heart squeezes painfully. For your idea to succeed, you're going to have to betray him first. Well, you won't be really betraying him; but he'll believe so. And he has to believe it. For this to work, Palpatine has to see the hurt and pain in Hunter's eyes; the surprise and rawness of his anger and the rest of his men. It's the reason why you can't warn him. The time to soothe him will come; but first, you have to push him through despair.

You wonder if he loves you as you've come to love him. Yes, you do. It's a hard truth to accept; but it's the truth. Somewhere between liking him and growing fond of him, somewhere between melting at his rare smiles and sharing nights of pleasure and passion and the quiet conversations afterwards, the pirate had stolen another treasure, fiercely protected under numerous walls; your heart.

Sometimes you're sure he does. It's the way he looks at you; or how he grazes your hand and back. The way he shoots a glance at anyone else when he hears them speaking ill of you or how he turns protective. Even his close brothers often tease him about it. Others, his feelings seem to be burried between his own layers of distrust and nochalance; when he can't bear to show such vulnerability any longer. In those times you try to disarm him with one kiss after another one. Sometimes you suceed, and sometimes you don't; and he'll twist out of your arms to take you from behind. To escape the power of your eyes; eyes that will force him to blurt all worries and desires he isn't ready to share yet. There's still a long way for your's and Hunter's interactions to grow; but you have plenty of patience for a man like him.

The Marauder docks quietly but swiftly; it's crew happy to touch land again no matter how much they've enjoyed their adventure at the sea. Everyone rushes to enjoy their free time; The Marauder will only stock up for the night before moving elsewhere. Hunter offers you his hand in a mocking chivalrious gesture; and you accept his help laughing, entwining your fingers with him afterwards and tugging him along. Hunter chuckles quietly and follows.

"Where are we going?" he asks, lightness in his voice.

You turn to grin up at him.

"Isn't it obvious? I think we deserve something other than rum to celebrate".

Hunter smiles wider, his eyes taking that quiet warmth and softness he sometimes show when looking at you. You squeeze his hand affectionately too.

One whiskey gives way to another one; and soon you're lost again in Hunter's chocolate eyes, in how handsome he looks, how much you like him. Love him.

"Please, forgive me" you beg him in your head, memorising his features. "Please, please, please".

Palpatine irrupts in the bar three hours after you had arrived -perhaps waiting for Hunter to be inebriated, perhaps making sure none of his men would be close to help him-; followed by a flock of the Red Guard soldiers. He likes to do an entrance; and as expected, time seems to freeze with his appearance, frightened eyes and shocked expresions directed at him. Palpatine's own cold eyes inmediately find you; and Hunter -Oh, Hunter- inmediately stands up to put himself between the two of you.

You can see his tense shoulders and his jaw clench; while Palpatine looks relaxed while he shortens the distance between you.

"How lovely" his voice is that of a snake, acompanied by a cruel, dark smile. "Don't tell me you've stolen his heart too, my dear. Absolutely brilliant".

Hunter stays in place; but his eyes flicker from him to you in a mix of confusion and hope. He knows how Palpatine's words sound; he just can't believe you've done it, the thing he was afraid of from the beginning. Grow close to him only to betray him in the end. Use him.

Though surprised, Palpatine doesn't seem to be at all interested in whatever is happening between the pirate and you. He extends his hand; tone laced with sudden boredom.

"Now dear... Please, the Kyber" he asks.

This time Hunter does turn around to look at you. He looks as you push your hand into your pocket; and come up with a grey cristal. You hand it to the Commodoro.

"My fathers pendant" you demand, voice sharp and serious.

Hunter's eyes find yours; almost like he's asking if that has been the price.

Palpatine laughs.

"When you've given me the real one, dear" he points out. You knew he would.

You shoot him an irritated glance; nodding quietly and taking the blue cristal out from your breast band. Palpatine arches a brow; and examines the gemstone. It's nothing he has seen before; it shines even with no light inflection, a bright, glowing blue. Pure. It looks like it holds the sea itself. Or perhaps the moon.

Hunter makes a move to grab it; but two Corries inmediately hold him in place, Palpatine tutting condescendingly.

"Ah, ah. I believe the Moon Kyber is now mine, Captain Hunter. You should take more care of who you trust for the next time".

You can't look at him. Can't watch Hunter's face and the pain and hurt reflected on it. Everything in you is screaming to comfort him; to take his hand, to caress his hair like you do at night. You can't.

Palpatine offers you his part of the deal; and you quickly take your father's pendant of his hands, tying it up around your neck. Keeping it safe.

The man of your nightmare smiles.

"Well, it was nice to oficially meet you, Captain. I'm sure we'll see each other again" the Commodoro says, briefly nodding at him in farewell before turning towards you and gesturing to the door of the tabern in invitation. "Shall we leave now, my dear?"

You feel Hunter watching you. You want to take one last look at him before following Palpatine; but you'll break. You can't.

You take a deep breath in and walk outside the bar.

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8. A new start

A month later -one of the hardest of your life, after the loss of your father- you hear news about The Marauder docking in Kamino's port. You've been keeping an eye on Hunter in the distance; cautiously asking around and following him around the South just one carefull step behind. You'd like to have contacted him sooner; but it was too risky, considering Palpatine had yet to sell his blue cristal and he'd probably keep an eye on you as well until he had those credits in his hands. Now, though, now... Palpatine is a million credits richer; and you are free to explore the world again. Free to find him.

You know things wouldn't end well if you'd directly confronted him. He probably hates you right now; has tried to burry your memory in a pit of anger and hurt. And you understand. He might probably still resent you even after you've explained yourself; but you have to at least try.

You miss him. So much...

You send a messenger instead. It's a ten year old boy who doesn't even know who you are or who Hunter is; who doesn't know the content of the small bag he's been paid to deliver. It's safer this way.

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9. A surprise from the past

Hunter makes a silent gesture to Wrecker, and his brother let's the child pass. Wrecker -and all of his crew, really- has been particularly protective lately. Although he was just as furious and dissapointed as the rest by what had happened, his brother's love for their family would always be bigger; and thankfully, Hunter hand't had to give much of an explanation to his crew other than that the pirate girl had deceived him with the cristal. Fled.

The kid is awfully persistent, though, and he's just a kid; so Hunter receives him with a gentle but tired expression on his face. It's been weeks since he had been able to shut en eye for more than three or four hours at a time.

"I've been paid to hand this personally to you, sir" the young boy says, handing him a letter first.

Hunter guesses he has recognised him by the long hair and the bandana; or the half-tattooed face. The kid waits patiently while he opens the letter.

Hunter's mind blanks while he reads the six words scribbled on it.

"Told you; you can trust me".

No signature, no name; but he knows very well who the writer is. A girl he hasn't been able to take out of his head; one he hates and loves at the same time. Misses.

Hunter can't do anything else than to stare at the kid. The young boy nods to himself, and then hands him a small bag, almost shoving it in Hunter's hands.

"Miss will be in the last tabern of the harbour until twelve" he waits to make sure his message has been listened, and then nods again. "Good night".

The boy quickly dissapears, and Hunter is left staring at the small bag in his hands. It's very light; but somehow, Hunter knows there's something inside. He can... Feel it. It's some sort of moving energy. Alive.

He takes a deep breath; preparing himself for what he could be about to find. For possible disappointments.

He slowly opens the bag.

The cristal shines almost like it is trapping the sun inside. It's the prettiest object Hunter has ever seen before; a rich amber colour mixed with orange and gold. The different tones swirl and mix inside of the cristal's walls; it... Pumps, like a heartbeat. Calm and consistent. Warm.

A tearful smile forms on Hunter's lips. This is the Moon Kyber cristal; it's real, it exists. And it's there, right in his hands. Which therefore means she hadn't really betrayed him; just carefully played her cards. She wanted her father's pendant. It hold great sentimental value to her; even if it had hurt, he'd understand. Commodoro Palpatine had probably forced her to get the Kyber for himself; and she had been left trapped between two men that wanted her skills.

Hunter thinks of how scared she must have felt. She had explained to him the story behind her scars; carved deep all around her torso when she was nothing but a young girl. A decade later, she had still shivered and trembled when Hunter touched them; when he had tried to soothe the pain away with his hands, his lips, and his tongue. She had almost cried that first time; holding her tears if only by pure stubborness. Hunter thinks on how much stress she must have gone through; knowing what fate awaited her. He smiles realising how smart she has been; taking not just one, but two fake cristals with her from the cave as well as the real one. She'd known Palpatine would believe her to be hiding the Moon Kyber; tried to trick him. So she'd fooled them all; Hunter included, because -now he realised- she needed Palpatine to see his hurt and dispair for all of it to become real. And she had done it all in silence. And won.

Maker, he loved her. She could have kept the real Kyber to herself; and yet, she had handed it to him, maybe because... Because she loved him as well.

Hunter leaves the real kyber in Tech's capable hands and walks to the tabern; the last one in Kamino's harbour, where she awaits.

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10. Déjà vu

You're on your second whiskey when you hear the footsteps; a hand coming to rest on your back. You know who it belongs to without even looking at him; the size of it, the splayed fingers -trying to touch as much of you as he can-, the gentle presure, the emotions that somehow seeps from it.

Hunter's voice is warm and slightly raspy; your favorite combination.

"You're hard to find".

Love and happiness burst inside of you. You know what his presence here means; what that sentence means. He has forgiven you; or at least, he's willing to try.

You turn around and study him. He's... You melt under his watch. You never thought this would happen; that you'd fall in love with another pirate.

You shoot him a soft, but playfull smile.

"Perhaps you're just bad at searching".

He smiles and hums.

The End.

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stonemags · 1 year

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SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.5 Champagne problems

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary: Keeping your promises can be hard if you are being challenged on them all the time. You try to keep your face straight and enjoy one free evening, but are any of your evenings actually free? What are your actual feelings towards people around you? You can't figure it out if you won't stop to think about it.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, mensplaning, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass.

Word count: 9612

A/N: I appreciate everyone's patience. I hope you will enjoy this chapter just as much as I do. Thank you for all the comments. It really helps to get a new perspective on things and really motivates me to keep going. Big thanks to my amazing friend, this series wouldn't be here without you @charturnus. And big thanks to my forever judge of the chapters @sweetixsblog!

The flat is just a quick stop for both of you, and it's no surprise it's empty. At this time, everybody is probably already at Carol's house. After this emotional load of today you wish you could stay home, relax, unwind the stress, but promises were made, and you are not someone who breaks them. You tell Kate to take a shower first, and you go to look into Darcy's room for both your costumes. Nicely put dresses take you off guard but as you see just as beautiful a three part set for you with pants you take a breath in. You slowly touch the fabric, taking in the view. Kate will look incredible in hers. It's bigger than you thought but looks so light with the volume of it. The colour is lavender, and it's going to brighten Kate's face so much, the corset is black which is matching to yours, and it's going to be an amazing contrast to her bright look.

“It's beautiful” You turn around at the sound of your friend's voice. She is standing by the door, covered just by the towel waiting for her primer to dry, so she can finish her makeup.

“Yes it is. And you are going to look incredible in it, sweetheart.” You tell her and move to the side to let her see the dress in its all glory.

“I was talking about yours, but I think we both will steal some glances after being so fashionably late.” She puts a tender hand on your shoulder, looking deeply into your eyes, trying to read your emotions of your irises as you are hiding something from her. She had this feeling all day. In moments like those, you are also wondering if you are hiding something from her, or yourself. You put a strand of her hair gently behind her ear so as not to disturb the primer in any way and when you are about to answer, your phone starts to ring. You pick it up, being sure it's Darcy calling to hurry you up, because no texts and no phone calls all day is a weird behaviour for her. Furthermore, you are grateful for the space she gave you and Kate, but it's 9pm, and you probably should head that way already.

“Hey, we are getting ready and…..” You cut mid-sentence, making Kate look at you, quizzingly.

“No I…. Okay I understand but I can't right now. “ You look at her, a few lines appear on your forehead. Your voice sounds distressed and it shakes a little.

“No…. The answer is no, I helped you enough for now.” You start pacing the room. Whoever is on the other side of it is definitely stressing you out, and Kate can see it.

“HOW MUCH?” You didn't mean for it to come out so loud, but it ripped out of you. Right now, you know, Kate has questions. One hand is holding the phone while the second is in your hair, looking like you are going to pull all of it out in a second.

“I'm sending you half of it. I don't have any more right now, and I also have to eat. I'm sorry….. Well, I'm sorry you are disappointed…. Sucks for both of us, I guess.” With that, you hang up a phone and take a breath in. You quickly type something on your phone and as you put it down Kate can see that you are really trying to figure out something, battling with yourself, she just can't figure out what it is about. She slowly closes the distance between you, searching for your eye contact.

“Yn is everything okay?” You smile at her, and Kate hates it. As much as you know her, she learned a thing or two about you too, and this fake demeanour pisses her off.

“Yeah …. Yes, it's just a client of mine not happy with his essay. He is going to pay me less.”

“Oh.” It really didn't seem like it, your reaction was far too strong for some boy to put you off like that. As much as Kate tries to sympathise with you, she never struggled with money, so it really doesn't seem like a big deal for her, for you on the other hand every unplanned loss of money is a big hit. Kate decides to leave the topic and start collecting things to dress up and finish her look, letting you go to take a shower.

“Kate?” She looks at you.

“Can we take your car? I don't have money for a cab right now, and I'm not drinking, so I thought… I'm going to give you gas money back after the pay cheque if you are okay with that.” Kate smiles at you as if you are dumb, but this time in a cute way.

“Mom filled up the tank, so you don't have to give me any money back, and I actually wanted to ask you if you can drive, you are not drinking and being able to leave at any moment we want is a blessing.” This is exactly what you needed to hear, that's how you know it's not true, but you appreciate every moment when your friends are trying to make you feel safe and secure around them. As much as the phone call just added to the mental load, it's something you will have to take care of later, now you don't have time.

It takes both of you an additional 30 minutes to get yourself ready and start driving to the location. You can never get used to the way Carol's house looks like, her main house, you might add. You never thought that you would even have a chance to surround yourself with wealthy people, not talk about being friends with them. As you drive through the gate and park the car in order for both of you space, you take a quick look at the changes in Carol's garden. It's not too overloaded with greenery but the natural bushes creating a path to the entrance is something you fell in love with, the first time you visited her with Darcy. It's a little different at the moment, and you are grateful for that. Added lanterns in the ground help you and Kate find your way on a cold November evening. You hold Kate's arm under yours, soothing her hand to calm down her nerves, or maybe yours, as much as you don't think there is anything you should be stressed about you don't feel at peace. There is a vivid thought about Natasha and Wanda in your head, but you let it go past you as you hear Kate ring the doorbell. You can feel the vibration of music under your feet, it's surprising because to be honest you can barely hear it from outside. As the door opens up you expect Carol to be on the other side of it, you are surprised to be greeted by the waiter, who lets you in by giving each of you a glass of champagne in matching glasses. You always feel bad correcting any workers, you know how it is to be in their place, so you don't say anything. Glass looks amazing in your hand, reflecting all the lights in the room, bright enough to give you a headache at the end of this evening.

“YN! , KATE!” you hear Maria's voice coming from the opened dancing space. She runs to hug you both and just in time you put down the champagne, avoiding any of it landing on your, well not yours but probably expensive clothes.

“You. Both. Look. Incredible.” Maria makes sure to punctuate every single word. She loosely holds yours and Kate's hand in hers. You grab it harder and slowly spin her around.

“Look at you! You look amazing.” She really does, the whole dress up concept suits her so much, she looks like taken straight out of Bridgethones.

As Maria puts her focus on Kate for a second, asking her how she feels and when did you both go, giving her a second glass at the same time, you take your time to drift off away for a second. Carol's interior design feels like visiting a museum in the best sense of it, but this time she has outdone herself. All the details to bring everybody straight into the new world make it all work together with her natural look of the house. The big living room is turned into a dancing floor. A big piano at the side of it gives amazing contrast to the size of this space. Kitchen is opened only for the staff, and you respect that, sitting area have new pillows and added decorations like tones of fresh flowers with almost overwhelming smell and red carpets as a

guide to the bathrooms and balcony for people that want to smoke or just take some fresh air. Even waiters have their own costumes. Most of the work makes live music. It's amazing, and you can't wait to let yourself fall into it, watching the orchestra play relatively new music in a classical way. You are in awe how amazing everything is prepared.

You chose a nice place for yourself a little bit more on the side, halfway to the first floor, where lights are dimmed. High ground is something you enjoy, it opens many more possibilities to observe. Also, you are harder to reach and that gives you the upper hand, literally. Darcy and Carol walk around still talking to some businessmen and other high hierarchy people. You can tell by the way they try to charm their way to Carol's ass, so desperate for her to choose them, that it's funny. You are still worried about Kate, so you follow along with your eyes in red carpet paths to find her in the crowd. She stands at the bar, drinking her, you hope, still second glass of champagne, her eyes are fixated on something, really focused on one space, or person. As you follow her line of sight, you see Maria dancing with an elegant woman who you remember as Pepper. Kate looks almost jealous, and you can't figure out about which one of them. As all your friends are located, you let yourself drown in thoughts about everybody around, who is the most shitty person in the room, who is the drama at the bottom of the stairs about and why the hell someone allowed this dude in sweats even come in here. Just as the thought flew through your mind, you saw a security guard pull the guy outside. You started laughing to yourself about the situation when someone interrupted your peace.

“Would you like something to drink, ma’am?” The waiter asks you politely, and you swear to god you will never get used to people calling you ma’am.

“Non-alcoholic beer please and thank you.” With a nod, he leaves you once again to yourself.

It takes him just a second to bring it back, service is incredible as always at this type of event. You go back to your favourite thing, looking around and as much as you don't care about two redheads, more worried about them annoying you all evening, you can't help but notice them at the edge of the bar. Wanda wears an incredible deep red dress that fully matches the colour of her lips, all her accessories are black though and as you look a little to her right you can see why, right next to her Natasha wears a black suit with red accessories. They are fully matching to each other, and you can't help but smile to yourself. It's nice to see this kind of energy between them. Natasha’s hand leaning on the small of Wanda's back, Wanda's hand reaching, in any moment they are alone, to hold her wife close. They both stand there with a glass of wine, from time to time talking to some important looking man, maybe clients as you assume. You are invested in observing them, probably a little too invested, because you didn't realise that you finished your beer that fast. You look for some place to put it down, but no waiters are around you right now, so you go back to leaning over the smooth, shiny handrail, trying to land your sight back on two women, unfortunately you find their spot empty. Searching through the crowd, you turn right, just to bump into someone standing really close to you. Bump is actually a light choice of words. You fully went into that person just to bounce back, and if it wasn't for their hand catching you, you would surely fall. These two seconds of you almost falling is enough to notice a strong grip on your waist, fingers digging into your skin in a protective manner. To catch some balance, your hand shoots up to grab whoever is in front of you by the side of their jacket with your right hand and the handrail with your left. You pick your head up, and you see Natasha looking down at you, with Wanda on her left side holding you by your shoulder to also prevent you from stumbling back. The woman you went into has this sickening smirk on her face, and you would love to wipe it off, but you promised your friend to be nice, maturity it is.

“I apologise, I didn’t see you there.” You say politely as you move out of their reach, placing your hand from Natasha’s jacket to her chest, pushing lightly to create a comfortable space between you.

“Don't worry, sugar, we got your back.” Words spill out of her smirking lips, as her hands still linger in proximity to your body, and you need to compose yourself for a second. Don't be a bitch, you think to yourself, trying to keep your sarcasm at bay. Maybe honesty will be a good way of dealing with it, so you decide to try it. You clear your throat before speaking, a little too theatrical.

“If you don't mind-’’ you start, but the waiter moves next to you, so you take the chance and put your beer bottle down on his tray, trying not to ruin his balance, before you continue.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead, we don't bite.” This time, Wanda is speaking, and you need to remind yourself to not fall for her warm voice. Her hand did not move from your shoulder, so you decided to gently grab her wrist and physically remove it from yourself. Her skin is soft, softer than you thought, her body is hot which is not surprising with so many people around, and the heating on. As a part of her makeup, she used body mist that smells like roses, and sparkles in the bright lighting of the room. Some of it stays on the tips of your fingers, and you tell yourself to not touch an expensive outfit that you have on, worrying it might ruin it. She gets the idea and actually looks kind of guilty of not letting you go herself after you moved back.

“What's up with the pet names?” They look confused, but you don't mind clarifying. Always willing to go the extra mile if that means that people will leave you alone.

“You saw me… hm… let's see…3 times in your life, you know basically nothing about me, except the things my friends said about me, and for some God knows what reason you feel comfortable enough to call me all kinds of pet names. I just find it weird. What makes you feel so comfortable?” It's funny, the picture in front of you. Two mature, adult and powerful women being taken aback with honesty and putting down boundaries, at least that's what it looks like to you.

“We didn't think you would be against it. Nobody ever was.” Natasha lowered her voice, sounding really confident, which is not fitting for what you read off of her facial expression. Her brows furrowed in confusion and her lips without a smirk, which is not a usual view.

“It's meant to be sweet, heart-warming, and usually it makes beautiful women like yourself feel special.” Wanda adds to her wife's statement, providing a little bit more of their point of view.

“Usually.” You throw under your breath, not being able to catch your bitchiness at bay before your mouth betrays you. Your arms are crossed on your chest, not knowing how to stand or act in front of them. They make you nervous, and you don't enjoy the way your senses are tingling when you are with them. With the goosebumps on your forearms, the muscles on your back tightening, and your fingers twitching, your anxiety is up through the roof.

“Actually, yn, I find it weird that you don't like it. Why does it make you so uncomfortable? You are a beautiful, funny, creative woman, whose company we really enjoy.” Natasha gets a little bit closer to you, her hands lightly trying to reach you, get a chance to touch you again, just being close is all she wants. Pulling any physical reaction out of you gives her information that you yourself are not even aware of. She is really observant of your breathing, how your chest rises when they are close and as careful she tries to be with you, she is sure this is not hatred talking through your body. All of those signs tell her that you crave them, that you are attracted to them. That's what those reactions always meant to them, so it has to mean the same thing, right?

“You see baby, we would love to get to know you a little bit more, but you seem to run away a lot from us. Do we make you nervous?” Wanda is still on your right side, her voice reaches your ear, and you swear to God you can feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up, ugh. Her hand moves smoothly, closer to your arm, the tips of her fingers drawing a pattern on your forearm, leaving a shiny trail behind and as your arm flexes under her touch, you are trying to think of an excuse to move out of their reach.

“No!” You answer her question, probably a little too harshly and too loud. You step back, your body is covered in goosebumps making you feel nervous, cornered and not safe with them. Your arms flex with worry, and you cross them on your chest, informing them that there is a line that you won't allow them to cross. At the same time, your mind is trying to come up with any way to make them feel that you won't let them overpower you, anything to show them that you are not someone to be played with.

“Do I make you nervous, Wanda?” This is the first time you called her by her name, and her eyes widened at the sound, only now realising that she feels much closer to you, than you actually are. It barely happens to her or her wife to feel a connection with people and for both of them to put that much interest in somebody, at the same time. Because of that there is so much need to understand what makes you… well you. The way your friends speak about you, the things they know, and they don't know, and how much of a saint you actually are. This is all Wanda can think about since she saw you at the coffee shop. This is all Natasha is talking about since her wife pointed you out, drinking coffee at a couple of tables next to them, with the most focused look they ever saw on someone. This is not something they are willing to lose, not when it took them so much time to find it. They were on countless dates, dinners, and one-night stands. All girls are similar to each other, most of them not even trying to hide the fact that they are only interested in their money. This doesn't bother them that much, but they decided it's not what they want. The fact is that Natasha and Wanda don't look for a sugar baby, but more of an actual addition to their relationship, someone who will make them feel more whole. Wanda is more patient about getting to know you, trying to make you like them or at least giving them a chance, Natasha on the other hand is impatient, she wants you now, in every way imaginable. Just as Wanda is about to nod at your question, her wife is speaking again, challenging you to reveal what you really think about them, but more in an inflated ego way.

“Please yn, we can see how you act around us, how you squeeze your palms to control yourself, how you shiver when we are close, how you bite your lips at our every compliment.”

“Yes… yes, you are right. I need to bite myself to not be an ass to you. I promised Carol I would try, I squeeze my palms because I wanted to punch you at least 3 times in the last 5 minutes and I shiver because none of you respect any personal space, and it gives me high level anxiety, I would literally rather be in a metal cage in the middle of the ocean surrounded by starved sharks, profoundly bleeding.” Your face shows anger with every line appearing on your forehead, you step closer to Natasha, trying to make her understand that she plays the wrong game here, that you are nervous around them because…. Because they are…. They just….. You are…. Not sure why, and it just hit you. Why would you be, they are not trying to harm you, they are being obnoxious, but that shouldn't make you feel so emotional. This time Wanda is speaking and her voice is so much softer and calmer than Nat's.

“I don’t think you hate us, yn. I think you really want to, but you don't. Let us get to know you, let us show you who we are, and then decide. Give us a chance.” Her hair falls softly on the side of her face, her smile gracefully invites you into her idea, you want to listen to her, and you almost do.

“Exactly, yn, we all know that you would fold for us if we wanted to.” You go straight back to the ground after Natasha's comment. A smirk appears on your face as your eyes meet hers.

“You are so full of yourself. If the whole world is at your feet, then why can’t you find anyone suitable. If you are so confident, why won't you make me fold for you…. Sugar.” With each word, you get closer to her, close enough to look up at her eyes and put a finger at her chest as if it proves your statement. She is a little taller than you, and you look so innocent and sweet from up close. Her jaw is tight, her eyes fixated on you, and she fights with herself not to reach out for you. But Natasha sees more than you are aware of. She sees the way your breath shakes when you lock your eyes with hers. She sees how your body leans to the right when her wife is standing, witnessing the dynamics between you two. Before any of them can react to your comment, Maria comes to your rescue, pushing her way through two women,

“Yn, I need you.” Your friend whines while pulling your arm around her waist. Her face is red, her dress is creased, and she is out of breath. As a good support, you immediately follow her thinking that something happened, leaving two redheads behind, without a second thought. She doesn't ask about what she just witnessed, and you are so grateful for that. You let Maria drag you to the middle of the dance floor, basically making you dance with her because Pepper got tired. You don't blame her, Mia can be a lot sometimes, but that's exactly why you love her, you let music take over and find pleasure in the rhythm as music got a little bit more current style. Lost in having fun with Maria, none of you notice the rest of the group watching you carefully from the resting area. Wanda and Natasha joined Darcy and Carol on the couches, and Pepper brought some drinks over to them. Kate sits close to them but is too shy to attend the conversations. Alcohol is slowly making her loosen up, but it's still not the time.

“Carol-” one of the red heads calls for her, taking her attention off of Darcy on her lap.

“Is there something between Maria and Yn?” Natasha asks boldly, not even trying to hide her motive.

“Actually, I would also like to know.” Pepper chimes in, clearly showing her interest in your friend, she even sounds a little jealous. Darcy opens her mouth to speak but stops herself before it's too late. In this kind of social situation, energy between her and Carol shifts. In public, it's still held in some slow movements and gentle whispers between them, but as the house slowly clears up, only few groups left, they get more and more comfortable with their dynamics. Darcy knows that she should ask permission to speak before talking to her partner's friends, so she waits for her cue. Carol squeezes her thigh and gives her non-verbal permission to answer.

“Yn and Mia were always close, they have known each other a long time now, and sometimes I think they can read each other like a book. There is for sure some sexual attraction between them, but I don't think even they are aware of it. But to answer your question, there is nothing going on between them other than friendship.” Carol takes Darcy's hand into hers, reassuring her that she did good.

“Hm, thank you, sweetheart.” Pepper hums and takes a long sip from her drink, finally taking her eyes off of the dance floor.

“And you-” she stands up, her dress flowing behind her when she does, to add volume to her outfit. She moves to the couch in front of her, occupied just by Kate, and sits beside her closer than socially acceptable. Her arm follows the back of the couch, dangerously close to Kate's face.

“I know you, don't I? I think we met last week at a meeting with Eleanor Bishop.” Kate’s eyes widened at realisation and fear. Her mother doesn't know anything about people around her, and Kate would like it to stay that way.

“I… yes, Eleanor is … my mother, I believe we discussed cooperation between our companies.” How Kate keeps her face straight is a mystery, Pepper definitely intimidates her and after seeing her dancing with Maria and now trying to get to know her, she is at least confused about her own emotions. Today was a hard day for her and wanting to just let loose, mixed with alcohol, gives her enough courage to fall into the casual conversation with a beautiful older woman.

The house is emptying more and more with every minute, it's crazy how many people can fit in here. Everybody falls into light conversions and loosen up after a long party, which is unfortunately a big part of their job. Carol and Darcy are in their own world as usual, Wanda is giggling with her wife about some comment she just said, but when Maria comes back and takes her place next to Pepper and Kate joining in their conversation, Natasha immediately looks for you on the dance floor. You are standing next to the balcony, a few minutes of fresh air can do wonders on your anxiety. It's a cold and bright night. Moon is fully out, brightening up the garden, making it look mysterious and scary, mainly in a good way. A minute to yourself is something you have been praying for since you got here, you know that in just a second you will have to go back and still be fairly active with your friends, despite your exhaustion, so you are trying to enjoy this moment as much as you can. Suddenly, a long shiver goes up from your neck down to the tips of your fingers. You feel a presence behind you and as you turn around, you just wish it wasn't….. Natasha. She approaches you calmly, but there is a strange confidence in each step she takes, each look she sends you, every word she speaks. Because of it, it's harder to read which parts of her are true and which parts are a mask she developed for herself. She is studying your face for a second, taking time to herself to decide her way to approach you, calling out in her head the bullshit of your actions, parts you are not realising are true. She wants to help you with that.

'You are lying to yourself.” You are stunned by her boldness, but you don't speak, allowing her to elaborate on the topic. Your body on the other hand flexes immediately, straightening up you try taking more space, showing her that you are not an easy target, for whatever she is planning against you.

“And about what exactly, Natasha?” You challenge her, that one is obvious, or maybe she challenges you. Either way, you know that all of this is a game to her. She is a predator, and you are a prey, not in this reality you're not. Not in your reality.

“I know you want this y/n, I see you shivering at my touch, I see you looking at me from the other side of the room. The way you looked for me and Wanda in the crowd. I know what you need, and I know what you want. We can give you that, all of it, me and Wanda. You just need to say it, darling.'' She comes closer to you, with each word she tries to lock her eyes with yours to make you truly understand. Her right hand is now lightly touching your left. Her fingers are stroking your palm and her touch is surprisingly soft, delicate, like she is afraid of hurting you while her eyes are saying that, that's exactly what she wants to do. You don't move back, why don't you immediately move back? While you have a second to study her you start to understand that all those words, all she does right now is projecting. She is so afraid of being true with you that she tries to make you believe that her emotions are yours. That has to be the case because you are not attracted to her. Two can play that game.

She comes even closer, with her left hand she holds you around your waist, hand lingering on the small of your back. She doesn't set it down, but you can feel the warmth radiating from it. It travels through you, and you at the top of your head, causing you to shiver. Her perfume is really nice, and it's overwhelming in the best way. It's stronger than Wanda's and so much different than hers, but just as they are together it mixes with each other in perfect harmony, a little bit like them. Her lips are so close to your ear, the intimacy of it makes you weak…. Sick…. It makes you sick. You turn your head to her direction, again being shorter than she at first was annoying to you, but now after her reactions you know how to use it to your advantage, You bring out your innocent eyes, steering up at her makes Natasha grab your waist, and you keep your cool together to not react on that. Her fingers are digging into your skin, her grip, like she is scared you are going to disappear. With the proximity, you both end up with lips inches apart. You smirk lightly when her breath hitches and her eyes shift, they become darker, or maybe it's the lightning in the room, or the moon covered by a cloud, or maybe you just imagined it. Natasha grabs your waist harder, and you put a hand in front of you to stop her, afraid she will try to bring you closer. Your hand lands on her stomach, she is flexed, and it seems like an act all over again. Your left hand is locked with hers, your bodies barely apart, only your palm standing in the way. You can feel two buttons under your fingertips, and her belt at the bottom of your palm, thick leather digs painfully into your skin, so you push at it, causing it to be pushed down. It happens so fast, but you can swear you heard Natasha lightly moan at this action, so you push a little bit harder. She bites her lips hard, and you don't take your eyes off of them as you speak.

"I want..." she focuses more on your voice. Pupils dilated and breath caught in her throat. Only now you start understanding that it's actually you that has all control over the situation. With all her confidence and boldness, in this very moment, you are the one that has control over her. Maybe you judged your friends too harshly on the dynamics of their relationship and this is something you need to put more thoughts in, but for now you need to handle the situation at hand. You repeat yourself.

" I want .... you.... to leave me the fuck alone, and get into your head that I'm not someone you can play with." You saw how her eyes went from lust to shock in a split second. You push her again, getting out of her tight grip on your waist, which you actually might be bruised from, and leave her dumbfounded. It feels like an award.

Shortly after you join them your friend, all of you fall into light conversations between each other, with you actively trying to ignore Natasha and Wanda. They don't make it easy for you, their eyes linger on you too long, too bold for you not to notice, but you won’t give them the pleasure of giving them any reaction. The next rounds of drinks were served and as you try to keep Kate out of taking any more, someone interrupts the conversation of your small circle.

“Hello ladies.” Everybody looked up at a man that decided that the after party is the best moment to shoot his shot with Carol and point her interest at his ideas. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Hi, excuse me, but the party's over and only the closest friends are staying at this moment, I hope you understand. Thank you so much for attending.” Carol is bold, Carol is confident, and Carol doesn't like to repeat herself.

“Well, that's exactly what I hoped to become.” He is not getting the clue, even when it's served to him on a silver platter. Darcy leaned in to inform you that the man standing in front of you is an owner of a StarL industry and his name is Peter Quill. You heard him before at the party, someone called him Lord and you laughed at the commitment to the party. As it turns out, it's a real title that he tries to get people to call him. His company focuses on tech development, and you can help but smell a copycat of Pepper. His outfit doesn't fit into the topic of the party, his hair looks greasy, and the stupid grin on his face makes you sick. He looks like your high school teacher that you truly hated, who was released from his job, due to his inappropriate behaviour towards some of the students.

“What are you ladies talking about?” Still, this man can't get a clue. He seems so desperate for Carol's approval and probably the rest of the “MILF sisterhood of really expensive pants” club, that you are pretty sure he actively chooses to be oblivious.

“Art, music, girly stuff, probably nothing that would interest you.” Wanda is trying once again to tell him off. Her hand is on Natasha's thigh, maybe to feel her close, maybe to comfort her, but the main reason, as you assume by Natasha's body language, is stopping her from taking the case into her own hands.

“That's exactly the thing I love, especially the part about girls.” Well, that was creepy.

“But I know a lot about art and music. Actually-” he continues, and you wish he didn't. “ I saw this incredible painting, right there.” He points to the place above the piano. The painting is framed with a wooden frame, covered in hand made golden little leafs. It's hard to distinguish from so far what it is, but you had a chance to take a close look at it closely, when you entered the house. The painting shows a beautiful view of nature. Big forest is dark with some light falling through the trees creating spots of breaks between the darkness. It's really detailed, so you can't figure out the real looks of it, if you did not study it from up close. Between each tree in the sunless ground, there is a horror looking creature, creeping from the depth of it, looking afraid of the bright spots.

“Oh, do you like it?” Wanda speaks again, taking your focus off the painting.

“Yes, very. It reminds me of Albert Bierstadt. It's so detailed, I could see every leaf and it's so calm and domestic.” You can't help but laugh at his bullshit. Clearly he learned two or three names just to impress somebody and if you had no knowledge whatsoever maybe you would fall for it, but you do, and you call it bullshit.

“What's so funny?” His arms are crossed on his chest, challenging you with his domination. All eyes are on you.

“Bierstadt is a realist, there is nothing realistic about this painting, and please enlighten me what's so domestic about it?” He seems to be caught in a moment. His hands grabbing the side of the couch with unnecessary hard grip.

“What do you think about it, yn?” Natasha moved closer to her wife, embracing her in a side hug, allowing Wanda to rest her head on her shoulder. They are both focused just on you, somewhat like the men disappeared, like everybody disappeared.

“Well-” you start slowly, not really trusting why they are even asking your opinion. “ I really like it, it's an unusual piece.” They take a sip of wine and wait for you to continue.

“At first, yes it might look realistic, but it's really not. It's a nightmarish painting, showing the fear and struggle of staying in light, or maybe escaping it. It might be about the contrast between light and dark, maybe about how you can see what is really there until you actually focus on the darkness, which not a lot of people do. Not only that, but it reminds me more of Beksinski style than any other.” Wanda looks happy, Natasha truly impressed and Carol has this know it all smug on her face.

“Well, Wanda here created this masterpiece and gave it to me when I bought the house. She has talent doesn't she?” The question is pointed at you. Peter left the group in the middle of you talking, before making an even bigger fool of himself.

“Yes… yes she does.” You answer faster than you can think. You don't take your eyes out of Wanda, drowning in her focus on you, feeling pulled in before you can grab anything in reality to stop it. Your compliment makes her really happy, it's rare for her that someone truly gets her, and you…. You seem to do it all the time. She cannot explain this connection she feels, just as she can't stop smiling at you. Her nose is scrunching a little in the cutest way you ever saw. Natasha kisses her on the forehead, enjoying the moment between you too.

“Well, yn is also an artist.” Oh, god, Darcy, why? You wish she hadn't said anything. She always does that, brings your hobbies or any achievements that you have at any possible moment. There is something irritating about it, and at first you had a big problem with that, but with time you understood, and you felt the love she has for you even more. You never got that as a kid, your parents praising you for grades, your art or internships, college, the list goes on. Darcy only wanted you to feel appreciated, and let you see how proud she is of all the things you did in your life, or simply with yourself. Watching you grow as she grows with you was one of the best things that happened to her, and she will happily remind you of it every day.

“Now I need to know more, what do you do yn? Artistic, in life, work, relationships? Tell us something about yourself.” Natasha is pushing, and she knows she is, but it's harder for you to back up when you are surrounded, and she will take her chance, even if it means not playing fair.

“Well, I'm studying language and literature at the university, working as an intern at a publishing company, and I'm having additional shifts at the bar. About artistic stuff, there are a lot of things, but I mainly write poetry.”

“She wants to put her own poetry book at some point.” Says Maria.

“She also writes essays for other students, she goes to the gym, she learns to play an instrument.” Kate adds, and you start feeling like an item on an auction. You appreciate your friends either way, you know they mean good.

“Our yn is a really versatile person.” Darcy can't help but add her thoughts into the praising bucket.

“Oh well, that's a lot yn, I'm surprised you have any free time.” Wanda talks to you in a more calm way, with no judgment, but you can't help but look for it in every statement. That's a little spice added to your personality.

“What about your family? Any siblings?” This topic shifts the conversation in a way you don't enjoy. It feels like interrogation now. You really want to finish this conversation, run, stop them from talking and asking questions, take all the eyes off of you, but you will try to stay on top as long as you can before your anxiety will drown you down.

“I have a brother. My parents are dead.” You answer casually, like talking about the weather, or household duties on Thursday evening. Your voice is similar to a salesman who's been at the same position for the past fifteen years and doesn't know why he is still alive.

“YN! They are not dead!” Darcy always corrects you, and you know that if she were closer to you, your arm would be hurting now. She calls it a gentle jab, but it's never gentle.

“Might as well be. You know, I'm going to go check if they need any help in the kitchen, excuse me.” This has become too much. Air too thick, shoulders too heavy. You can feel each time your lungs are filling up with oxygen, and you feel like you have too much and not enough of it at the same time. You are too aware of your body, feeling a shiver traveling through your skin but never leaving. You are surprised after going to the kitchen to see it empty, but you couldn't be happier.It's after midnight, and the morning shift of Carol’s staff was going to take care of the after party mess. Silence makes you feel free, the lack makes you feel whole. Just for a moment, you can be yourself. It's not that you are not with your friends or around people, it's just… There are so many versions of you, and all of them need some space. You feel like you have been neglecting this one with the lack of time, and anxiety is her way to make you aware of her needs, of your needs. You decide to grab some iced water. Due to the high ceilings, all the cupboards hang higher than usual. It's so irritating, but you don't have a chance of grabbing one of the cups without getting on the kitchen counter. For a second you debate your choice, on the other hand you can go outside and grab your mug, but that would mean coming back to your friends and probably staying there. Climbing is it. You take off your shoes and jump to sit on the kitchen counter to stand on it slowly to look through the cupboards. The first cabinet is empty, the next one is filled with plates and the third with bowls. How many dishes do people need?

“You need some help?” A voice behind you almost makes you fall, you lose your balance, but in the last second you smoothly land on the ground without any harm. Natasha looks at you and her smirk seems to disappear, at least for now.

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes… yes, you do.” Son of a-

“Well, I don't, thank you.” You really just want to be left alone, you want some water, some ice, and 5 minutes for yourself.

“Yn… you're going to hurt yourself, let me-'' Natasha tries one more time as you climb the counter again, this time on the right side of the kitchen.

“I-” first one is a beautiful set of tea and teapot, “-got-” second one is filled with plastic containers, “-this. Ha!” Third one is a jackpot. Yes, it has only vine glasses, but at this point you would even drink from a plastic container. You grab one glass by its thin leg and carefully try to get down.

“Okay, I got you.” Natasha is right next to you in two steps, she grabs you by your thigh and waist trying to help you down, and it makes you jolt away. It was just a second, you would have been okay if it wasn't for her, but you slipped and as you try to get any balance your hand holding the glass slams on the counter, breaking it in your palm.

“FUCK!” you harshly bite your lip to not yell, immediately grabbing your injured hand with the free one. Redhead gives you some space as you pace around, but she tries to grab your attention.

“Yn, let me take a look, let me help.” Your hand is bleeding, and it's not a light one either. You stretch your hand in front of you in fear of ruining the clothes you are wearing.

“You’ve helped enough.” You bark at her like all of this is her fault. It is, but it…. Isn’t.

“If you would let me help you nothing would happen, why are you so stubborn. Ugh.” She is stressed and annoyed by your actions, that much you can tell. She doesn’t yell, but her tone is far from soft or tender. You weren't trying to be mean now, you just want to be alone.

“I- “ You are trying to come up with some good comeback, but the pain makes you shift your focus.

“You are doing it to yourself.” With that, Natasha leaves. She just left you alone as you sat down on a cold floor, bleeding from your hand, staining the floor red, which by the way you will have to clean. You can still feel that there is something in your palm, a piece of glass that causes more pain with every move. Okay, get your shit together yn. You tell yourself as you stand up and take a kitchen rug to try and stop the bleeding, carefully putting it around the piece of glass. You need to disinfect it and clean it from glass shards. Carol's wine collection is amazing, beginning at wines, through additional tools and ending on the glass, but when it shatters it's like sand. All of a sudden, doors open with force.

“What happened?” It’s Wanda, Natasha went to get Wanda. You don't know why but the realisation, the fact that she came back makes you…. Feel something. You are glad that it's not anybody else, or everybody at this point, which you assumed would happen after the big noise caused by your fall. Her voice is worried, it takes you back to the evening when you met her and got a nose bleed. It's the same tenderness, the same soft tone you have heard then. The worry on her face makes you feel guilty. You don't like that feeling.

“Natasha made a bet that I won't be able to juggle with 4 wine glasses.” You joke, you always do. It's light, it's making the situation less stressful and less stress means no arguing, shaming or attacking you.

“She didn't let me help and she fell. I tried to take her down from the counter and I think I scared her. It's my fault, I'm sorry yn.” Natasha apologises and you… you don't know how to act. Why is she doing that? Is it because Wanda is here? She also seems worried but mainly scared, her hands don't seem to find their place, she looks at her wife like she is waiting for her to order what to do, to guide her through the next steps. It's new, and you didn't see that dynamic between them before. It’s like Wanda has all the power in here.

“I just slipped, it's nothing.” You are not sure why you protect Natasha, it was her fault, but… you are doing this to yourself. She is also right about that. Maybe you just want to ease her worry, or yourselves, at the end it's the same thing for you.

“Whatever happened, we need to take care of that.” Wanda points at your hand.

“Do you want me to get Darcy for you, hon- yn?” She catches herself halfway of the pet name, and you appreciate her actually listening to you before. You sit on the floor again with your back to the cabinet while your legs are spread to avoid blood landing on your pants. She kneels in front of you, and you shift immediately when she tries to grab your hand. She looks hurt by your actions, and that makes you explain.

“No, no. It's okay, she doesn't have to worry about me more than she is. Also, I still have glass in my hand and I don't want you to get hurt or dirty” Wanda nods in understanding. When it comes to Darcy, she would be here in seconds scolding you about your behaviour, followed by the most caring moments you ever receive from her. Wanda and Natasha bring you over to the staff bathroom. It's connected to the kitchen, so nobody will see you, and you don't want to be seen now. Natasha went to look for first aid while Wanda helped you take off the stained towel. When she comes back, you hear her speak.

“I have bandages and some plaster stitches, so that should work till we are going to get you to the doctor.”

“No! No doctors, thank you, I'm fine.” You try to stand up and run away from them. You know you shouldn't, but you really can't go to the hospital or a doctor.

“Baby it's okay.” Wanda tries to calm you down by tracing patterns on your forearm skin after she rolled your sleeves up. She slightly pushes you down, so you don't get up, scared that you might get injured even more.

“No, you don't get it. Can we just finish it up here, please?” You don't want to argue, you are tired, in pain, with the lack of sleep, and projects to give tomorrow at school. You don't have time or energy for that. Ignoring Wanda, you get up and try to grab bandages from the other redhead.

“Okay yn, sit your ass down, now.” Natasha is demanding, but she is not aggressive. This version of her is much nicer. It scares you less than a smug version of her, the overconfident bullshit version of her. This one feels more real, and more real is safer for you, because you know what to expect. You sit down and hang your head low. Slightly embarrassed, you let them help you.

“ I'm going to take the glass out and clean the wound, okay? Natasha will put some plaster stitches on you and bandage to keep it clean. Are you okay with that?” The pain is worse now, or maybe the adrenaline is wearing off, your eyes are glossy because of it, and you don't want to pick your head up at Wanda, so you nod.

“Yn, why don't you want to go to the doctor? Can you explain?” She asks, while taking pieces of glass with tweezers, her voice is really gentle, scared she might push too hard.

“I can't afford it.” You answer through your clenched teeth.

“What do you mean, you can't-'' You don't let her finish, you're too embarrassed to even speak about it, but this is your reality?

“I don't have health insurance, I can't afford to just go to the hospital, it would ruin me. I already have to pay for school, flat, my m-” You cut yourself off, clearly the rumble gets too fast out of you, it's better to stay quiet, you already said too much. Wanda finishes her part and after rinsing your hand with water, Natasha takes over. She takes your hand into hers and gently starts to put the stitches on you. Fortunately, the cut is not too deep, it should heal on its own.

“I really think a doctor should take a look at this, and your headaches sugar. We could pay for it, that's no problem.” Natasha is gentle with you, and you can forgive the pet name slip this time. You look at your hand as she finishes, thankful for the help they’ve put in. You look at them and straighten your back, tears still lingering at the corners of your eyes, it still hurts, and you can feel it all now. Your red eyes betraying your poker face.

“No, that's absolutely out of the question. I know you just want to help and thank you for what you just did, but I don't need you and I certainly don't need your money. You can't just buy everything.” Your voice is not accusatory this time, it sounds like you are in pain, but not the physical one. Both women in front of you learned a lot about you today, and they seem to put that knowledge into use. It doesn't matter how much they want to take care of you, spoil you, or be close to you, they don't want to cross your boundaries any more, or at least they will try. Natasha wants to try one more time to convince you, but Wanda stops her before she can, and she speaks up.

“We understand, hopefully it will get better soon. Can you please at least let us know tomorrow how you are feeling?”

“Yeah, sure.” You answer, trying to sound casual. Wanda takes her wife's hand and Natasha takes out their card with her free one. She hands it to you, knowing that you probably got rid of the last one she gave you. She is not wrong. They leave the bathroom, giving you some time alone. You throw away all the rubbish from tending your wound and clean the kitchen floor the best you can. You go back to your friends and after answering multiple questions about what happened, you decide with your friends that it's time to go home. They grab their stuff and get into one car. Darcy and Carol are lost in their moments of goodbyes which are always so dramatic, but you hope it will never change. Kate and Maria are half asleep at the back of the car, leaning on each other.

You check your phone seeing multiple messages and missed calls, sighing to yourself you decide to deal with that tomorrow. Cold air eases your mind a bit, and you appreciate the time of the day. It's late, but there is nothing better for you than the world at 2 am.

“Are you sure you can drive?” This time Pepper checks up on you, Wanda and Natasha already left, and from what you've heard Pepper stays at Carols today.

“Yes, I'm sure. It’s okay, don't worry.”

“Take care of yourself, yn.”

“You to Pepper.” You go into the car and take your seat behind the wheel. Darcy opens the door and sits next to you, while her girlfriend knocks lightly at your window to pull it down.

“Text me please when you will be home. Keep her safe for me.” Carol is always so protective over your best friend, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Darcy deserves nothing less.

“Always.” You answer and go straight back home. You have to get up at 6, and you will make the best out of those 4 hours of sleep.

Next chapter

tag list : @autorasexy @lizziejolsen @natashaswife4125 @sayah13 @romanoffskisser @lijo-8 @jjiiuuisssagcebrcw @natashaswife4125 @dumbassbitchwithnotits @teenybean, @marvelwomen-simp, @ripofflizzie

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #stonemags #elizabeth olsen #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #sugar baby au #maria hill #pepper potts #kate bishop x valkyrie #kate bishop #carol danvers

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shininglikeyoursmile · 1 year

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Secret meet up 💟💟💟

Part 1 when I see you smile

Pairing : Lloyd hansen x female reader

Summary : Lloyd sees you for the first time , and damn if he's persistent to not make the only meet up he wishes to make .

Word count: around 400

A/n : This is a little series I am starting ,it is a little snippet from the chapter . LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK LOVELY. ❤ No beta read . All mistakes are my own!

WARNING: shooting ( gun ), fluff and feels , mild public violence , Llyod is a softie but only for his girl . 18+ONLY. More to be added eventually.

Seies Masterlist

Part 2

Part 3

Don't steal, copy, repost without my permission. And no permission for this .

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Reblogs, comments, feedback are much appreciated!!! ❤❤❤

(Moodboard made by me 💋)

It's like everything moves in slow motion when his gaze falls on you . Time stops and his eyes have their own mindset because they refuse to move to anyone, anything, anywhere but you .

You are all pretty, lost in your own thoughts while mindlessly sipping the Coffee. The headset covers your ears , which makes you more adorable and just oh so innocent. You are mouthing the lyrics of a song you're currently listening to, he notices when his gaze sweeps to your lips. Then you make a face while thinking about something and your lips break into a half smile and then you chuckle lightly and shake your head and he swears he can feel his heart beating so fast , faster than anytime he'd ever felt.

The loud crash breaks his little, and beautiful daydream and the reality hits in. The large floor to ceiling window shatters into pieces at the impact of a gunshot and then everybody is sweeping out hurriedly from the Cafe. Screaming and voices laced with fear across the air and his gaze settles on you , he doesn't know why but he has this earnest craving to protect you .

"Lloyd!" His own name, screamed into the earphone makes him dodge the next shot and next thing you witness is him pulling out a gun and shooting someone in distance and a cry of pain reaches your ear, louder than the music and you stand abruptly and remove the headset .

Your gaze fleets around and then you are running out of the Cafe. Lloyd witnesses it all from the ground he's laying on . He didn't shoot the man , but hopefully he needs to get out of this mess without getting his hands dirty. The Cafe is silent and he stands up when he doesn't detect any danger. Cups of half filled Coffee, fries and Iced tea litter the white marble. A diary catches his attention when he gets to take his fallen gun. It's yours, he remembers, he saw you writing or maybe drawing something in it . It's beautiful just like the owner, he thinks and smiles a little .

You fled out as soon as you came back to reality when the screams of fear and shock startled you . You didn't witness anything but you vaguely remember someone getting shot down , maybe injured. You hope nobody is harmed, with that thought you go your way back to home.

#pearl posts #twinklecrazymind #chris evans #llyod Hansen #Llyod Hansen x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #llyod Hansen fluff #chris evans imagine #llyod Hansen imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans characters #the gray man

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scottysanchezs · 6 months

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Closed starter for @capthayes

where: Wilmington Fire Department, Sierra's Office.

He was sitting in her office, Scotty's mind was running a million miles per minute and he couldn't seem to think straight. It was late and the man knew that, but he needed to see Sierra. His best friend. Somehow within the years of living in Wilmington, he was a loaner but he'd met some people who helped fill that void and Sierra was one of them. They were first responders, knew the intensity of the job. Knew that impact of the job and life style. She was his go to, the one person he'd trust his life with. Getting lost within his thoughts, Scotty twirled around his necklace in his fingers and let out a breath "Did you know she tried to convince me to become a firefighter instead of a cop before I went into the academy? Said the uniforms were hotter." He let out a shaky laugh at the memory and shook his head, then looked around Sierra's office "You okay if I leave this here in the safe? I'll be here I just ---" Scotty questioned , gesturing about the necklace that was around his neck but then stopped himself for a moment. Sierra was the only one he trusted with the necklace he wore around his neck, the Police Chief continued with "I gotta pull a couple of all nighters this week. Catching up on paperwork." Licking his lips, Scotty sighed "You want to go grab a beer? I could use one right now."

#(everybody has a chapter they don't read out loud: conversations.)#(conversations.)#(sierra hayes.)

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thelibrarygh0st · 3 months

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Everybody has a chapter they don't read out loud.

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munzer13 · 18 days

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Everybody has a chapter they don't read out loud.

#illustration #quotes #relationship #love #love poem #world #spilled ink #virginia woolf quotes #motivation #space

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2n2n · 7 months

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I'd like to think a little out loud about Amane's perception of Tsukasa's escape from his boundary, and his possible underlying emotional arc regarding Tsukasa... he's a difficult boy who doesn't talk about most of his feelings, particularly about Tsukasa... so all we can do for now, until he talks, is theorize. But let's go...

Before the shinjuu, Amane ominously speaks in metaphors about the moon, & believing in something being real, even if nobody else does. It's a pretty obvious allusion to Tsukasa. He also mentions forgiving something and someone, even if nobody else could understand or forgive them. Amane is devoted to Tsukasa-- that's the only way I can read this, personally.

Amane in a recent chapter, revealed that his intention with the shinjuu was to save Tsukasa, & allow them to remain together.

we have seen that... perhaps in Amane's boundary, Tsukasa was kept in a stasis, enshrined in sakura blossoms, dressed in his regalia.

Tsukasa could only escape this boundary with the help of Sakura. We know Sumire could not leave her boundary without assistance, either. We also recently hear Tsukasa talk about needing to create your own exit from prison, & Amane... not responding to his cries for help, at some point.

seeing Tsukasa like this makes Amane emotional. With this encounter, Tsukasa believes Amane is happy to see him.

Amane snaps violently & emotionally after this moment, slamming Nene-chan into the ground by her wrists, in much the way we expect him to treat Tsukasa. Was that gesture intended for Tsukasa? We don't quite know what it means, yet. We also don't know what expression Tsukasa sends towards Nene-chan before departing! Mysteries.

Amane is upset as the Mitsuba conflict ensues, & wants to know why Tsukasa is doing all of this-- and presumably, why he's gone through all of the trouble to escape the boundary Amane placed him in (for his own protection?)....

Tsukasa declares that he loved the moment Amane finally stopped holding back, & killed him.

Amane becomes ... overwhelmed, emotional, crying, vulnerable. I do not believe what he is feeling is fear of Tsukasa for being crazy or something, I believe what he is feeling is fear of being seen, fear of discussion & acknowledgement of his grand gesture, fear of addressing feelings he has (cowardly?) avoided (?) by keeping Tsukasa in stasis (?)....

Amane, in response to this, shuts down & doubles down on his bleak belief system: that it doesn't MATTER if Tsukasa loves him, it doesn't MATTER because things can't be DIFFERENT, as a ghost, things can't CHANGE. Whatever regrets he had in life, whatever he failed to achieve with Tsukasa, whatever future he wished for of them... cannot come to be.

Amane & Tsukasa have no future, & nothing can be changed.

Clockkeepers happens, & Amane again doubles down on his belief system, of a fixed fate. There is nothing he can do to save Nene-chan.

By the Hell of Mirrors, I believe Amane .... begins to 'play' with Tsukasa. I personally believe Hell of Mirrors is essentially Amane & Tsukasa messing with everybody-- with Mitsuba & Nene-chan as their respective clowns. Tsukasa has playfully taken the role of Amane's 'rival', despite actually doing everything in service to Amane's wish. Amane plays at being Tsukasa's 'rival' back, and the entire 'fight' is extremely unserious for the two of them...

Let's say, extrapolating, that Tsukasa was a very suicidal person by nature. Let's say, that he never had the will to live, willing to trade his life for Amane's as a child, & willing to come back, knowing his death at Amane's hands is inevitable.

WE now know, Tsukasa has ONLY COME BACK, NOW, this time, in order to once again OFFER HIMSELF as a sacrifice for AMANE'S WISH. However, Amane, at this point in the manga-- volume 7-- doesn't seem to know Tsukasa's plan.

I think at this point, Amane is curious. Tsukasa escaped, Tsukasa is doing a lot of things. Maybe he's doing more specific and involved things than he ever has. Maybe Amane is curious what Tsukasa really... wants to do. Why can't they both be out, messing around, playing?

I don't personally think Amane never quelled Tsukasa out of an inability to OR a fear of him-- we regularly see him thrash, grab, throttle, scream at Tsukasa, we also see him nonchalantly peel the cuddly & clingy Tsukasa off of him without issue. He very clearly isn't actually afraid of being hurt by Tsukasa, and he DEFINITELY isn't afraid of telling Tsukasa what to do! I think Amane ALLOWED Tsukasa this freedom Tsukasa was suddenly inexplicably fighting for.

Picture Perfect rolls around, & Amane & Tsukasa are now blatantly working together, rather than the sloppy & makeshift playsession of Hell of Mirrors. Tsukasa created a circumstance, Amane collaborates with him. The goal of Picture Perfect is to permanently freeze Nene-chan in a painting, to functionally imprison her.

What Amane attempts to do to Nene-chan is not unlike what he had done to Tsukasa, in his boundary. In the name of "keeping you safe" or "saving you", Amane usurps their will, seeks to overtake their autonomy. It's easy to understand why Tsukasa thought this solution might be appealing to Amane... if he wanted to, he could keep Nene-chan in a kind of blind stasis.

I think Nene-chan makes Amane reflect on this impulse of his. I think Amane is scared to see himself... take this sort of path, all over again, with a living girl... with a girl with so much passion, optimism, so much possibility for herself....

.... but I also honestly think... right now anyway... that Amane cannot trust Tsukasa to run his own life. That unlike Nene-chan, Tsukasa had no dream for his future, no wish to grow up, go to college, get married, etc. All he ever wanted was to see Amane, to learn about him, to see to it Amane had a happy future, or at least... had whatever he wanted, whatever that was.... even if what Amane wanted was to throw away his future.

Amane pivots into attempting to add life to Nene-chan's lifespan, something he couldn't have possibly done for Tsukasa.

Now.... I think a terrible sort of miscommunication, misunderstanding... occurs, here, at the far shore. It's still up in the air, but I want to do my best to propose the situation...

Here, Tsukasa once again affirms to Amane that he loved the shinjuu. Tsukasa, who gave up on his life multiple times-- who never seemed eager to live-- relates to Nene-chan's desire to die in the far shore, to forego her future, for Amane.

Tsukasa prods Amane to think about repeating his act of destruction, to once again erase Tsukasa's existence. Amane is seduced by the suggestion, for this moment. It is appealing to him, intoxicating.

Amane understands doing this, would mean dismembering Tsukasa with his own hands.

Tsukasa is surprised Amane apparently already 'knew' about this, had thought about it... even if in the back of his mind. Amane was destroying yorishiro this whole time. Why did he allow that? Perhaps... it was a self-destructive urge of a sort?

I think Tsukasa's glee, his acceptance, his urging for another dose, is.... something Amane is trying to understand.

At this point, I think Amane has every question in his heart: Did Tsukasa understand why Amane killed him? Did he understand the meaning of the gesture? Does he finally understand Amane's love for him? Amane threw away his entire future for Tsukasa. He was deeply devoted to him, & he attempted to show that devotion in the form of the shinjuu. Amane said something like, "if you have no future, then I won't, either. If you don't want to live, then I refuse to live on. I'm going to keep us together, forever; you can't ever leave me. I won't allow my self to have a future without you." with his actions. Amane can't say things with his words, typically. He is really... awful at words.

What could "do it right" mean? Amane was willing to just have Teru blast him to bits in the Far Shore, so obviously, he doesn't truly value his existence, even now. He is our self-destruction boy.

But perhaps Tsukasa and Amane could simply perform shinjuu pt2, but this time, Amane knows explicitly that Tsukasa loves it, loves him, & maybe even this time, Amane can be sure Tsukasa understands what it means, to sink into oblivion together. To not force it on Tsukasa this time-- but-- to have his consent, to both be self-aware, mutually. The commitment, the devotion he attempted to convey... Maybe!!!! MAYBE some tiny part of Amane THOUGHT that was what happened, in the Far Shore. Maybe he thought he could blast himself to oblivion with an elated, beloved Tsukasa who 'gets it', & save Nene-chan's life & future. Maybe HE could finally 'do it right'!

I think at this point... Amane doesn't know why Tsukasa is doing anything. But I don't think that is bleak, I think that is actually exciting.

There is so much left unsaid between them... I think, for a moment, Amane has a shred of hope, that he could learn something new about Tsukasa.... who he's been unable to understand, or do anything for. Tsukasa, who asks for nothing... Tsukasa, who only tries to die again & again, who can't seem to UNDERSTAND, SEE Amane's love for him. Who Amane can't communicate a thing to.

Buuut... I think this flicker of curiosity, hope, the dream of being seen, understood, of communicating together finally, is why Amane is now flipping out, deeply upset & distraught by Tsukasa's same insistence as ever in his own lack of value.

I think that is why Amane is snapping at Tsukasa, saying "I hate you". He feels like Tsukasa is rejecting him, won't let them be together... doesn't WANT to be together! Tsukasa is here, again seemingly only wanting to die, wanting to leave him BEHIND... this time! Is that "doing it right", actually? It's "right" to be separated? You can understand Amane's unbridled agony.... how it turns into pure anger.

Amane's feelings failed to reach his otouto!!! this whole time, I really think Amane feared that, more than anything.

His EXISTENCE-- AS HANAKO-- an existence HE ties exclusively to being with respect to his crime-- rendered meaningless! Confirmed to mean nothing! Tsukasa wants to disappear, and that's that.

The entire point of the shinjuu was missed! His gesture of devotion & love-- was nothing, the past decades enshrining him-- was nothing. Tsukasa thinks you hate him. He's thought you hate him this whole time. You're so cartoonishly far from sharing the beautiful consummation of a second shinjuu together.

You can understand then how the sense of rejection, being misunderstood, contorts in Amane's poor frenzied brain until it becomes his own violently-spat rejection-- "I get it now, you're not even REALLY my brother!!! You're fake!! My little brother wouldn't do this to me!!!! You're not my Tsukasa!!! you CAN'T be!!!"

a very pathetic & childish response to rejection. "You can't reject me-- you're not even REAL! You rejecting me doesn't even mean anything!!! I'll reject your entire existence!!!" oh, Amane....

You can understand how Tsukasa simply watches the response... I think the intensity of it is interesting.

For a boy who likely once doubled down so hard on Tsukasa's authenticity.... it's an extreme 180. It's just a response to pain.

I think.... maybe we now, next, will explore, "what if Amane didn't do the shinjuu at all? What if Tsukasa simply disappeared for good, & Amane was left behind?" in a new timeline. This rejection of Tsukasa is an intense culmination of everything thus far... Amane's built-up curiosity, hope, feeling baited & seduced into imagining something satisfying, only to fall flat on his face. This timeline showed us the insurmountable extent of Tsukasa's belief in his lack of value, a belief so strong Amane cannot pierce it, not even if Tsukasa awakens adorned in silk in a bed of sakura blossoms.

.... but I can't pity Amane too much, because I swear to GOD if you'd only SAY "I love you", he would understand that. I'm sorry Tsukasa can't understand your abstract poetic gestures, Amane!!!!!!!! LOOK, IT'S HARD FOR NENE-CHAN TO UNDERSTAND THEM AS WELL--!

But she's a romance-loving cumrotted girl, she's better at this than Tsutsu.... she can miraculously kind of see through the gestures like , trying to murder another girl for her sake. it's very impressive of Nene-chan... but I think Tsukasa-chan needs you to... like, say it, very directly, okay!! We can't do the indirect stuff!!! I promise your otouto loves you, if you'd only do something like actually beg him to stay with you!!!!! But Amane isn't honest enough to do thaaaat....

in any event, as always, it's very hypocritical of Amane, who continuously keeps trying to leave Nene-chan behind, which often makes her feel rejected or confused. Why is Hanako always trying to leave her?

well, because he believes she couldn't have a happy or fulfilling life with him, who can't offer her anything she wants.

I'm sure Tsukasa feels the same way, Amane! I don't know what he thinks he can do for you! Aren't you better off without him?

Please-- Nene-chan... you have to help them. She has to see how much Amane needs Tsukasa, for herself... then, even if the Yugi can't tell each other clearly, she can tell them herself.

#avvy's JSHK #ive not proofread this but it's taken too long I suppose I will edit it later....#it's exhausting to think about you Amane!!!#I want the world for you. *slaps him*

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boygiwrites · 1 year

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Harley D. Dixon 1

• Gen Tags. Found family, Daddy issues, Hurt and comfort, Gore.

• Summary. Harley D. Dixon is a tough yet sweet little girl who until the dead started eating the living, thought she had seen it all. Alongside a mismatched group of survivors in rural Georgia, Harley and her Dad are forced to leave their small life behind and learn how to survive all over again through the horrors of the apocalypse.

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

❤️Cross-Posted from Ao3.

Author's Note. Here we gooo! Argh, I'm so excited.

I've been wanting to write something like this for a long, long time. I've read just about every 'Daryl has a daughter' story out there, and now I've finally got my own to share. I just love Daryl, and Daryl with a kid is a whole other thing. We all know he wouldn't be the perfect parent, so you bet I'm gonna play right into that. He's gonna swear, he's gonna be strict, and he's gonna mess up. As for Harley (Yes, as in the motorcycle brand), I love her too. So ready to write her.

This story will cover the general plot of the show. To keep things fresh, I've made sure that almost every canon scene has undergone at least one small change. Plus, of course, many new scenes. Occasionally, I'll make bigger changes just to keep you on your feet! Nobody's safe! I'm also gonna be expanding on all the characters. And lastly — FOUND FAMILY! Piles and piles and piles of found family, eventually. I live for found family.

Please enjoy reading! :)

My Uncle Merle died today.

I'm sitting in a crinkly green camping chair, watching embers die.

I don't wanna think about my Uncle right now, so I think about something else.

The fire was built last night by Glenn and Morales. Then Lori came along this morning very quietly and made it alive again with logs and wads of notebook paper. Thinking about facts is easy. It's like sucking on a plain candy that tastes like nothing. There's a navy-blue blanket across my lap with three holes in it, perfect for nibbling, poking, and ripping. Dale gave it to me when the cold settled in this afternoon. He told me he reckons it's around June, as he covered my shoulders, which used to be his niece's birthday.

He says she looked a little like me. That means she's dead. So many people are dead, now.

A thin log in the campfire cracks and tumbles over after trying to stay upright all morning. I hope I don't look like that log.

I can hear Officer Rick approaching. My stomach becomes a stone.

I can tell it's Rick because he's got one of them power walks that you can hear coming from a mile away, which I think makes him pretty stupid. He's loud, and loud is dangerous, and dangerous is stupid. My Dad's not like that. Unless he's angry or running, ain't nobody hearing my Dad coming; especially not no squirrels.

He's almost as big as my Grandpappy Dixon, who people used to say was as big as a house, and he wears super heavy boots from a hunting store near our house — but he's still not loud, or dangerous, or stupid. Not like Officer Rick.

"Hey, Harley."

I think I hate Officer Rick. I think I hate everyone.

And I think I might be crying now, too. I focus on twirling the blanket strings around my finger so I have something very simple to think about, which is that it hurts real bad when I twist it tight. I see Rick crouch down in front of me. He takes a while to say anything else, and it's prolly 'cause he's tryna be real careful, so he don't make me cry even more.

If my Dad weren't out hunting, he'd prolly slap Rick and everybody else that's tried badgering me today dead for tryna do his job for him. I feel like, just by sitting here, I'm disobeying him. Rick ain't my Daddy.

"We, uh..." He clears his throat. "Me and Lori, and some other folks are uh... Well, we're all a little worried about you, honey, okay?"

I imagine a small group of folks gathered by the RV right now, watching me and Rick; wondering if he's gonna be the one to get through to me.

I'm worried for when my Daddy comes back. When he finds out about Uncle Merle, he's gonna be fuming. He's gonna be like one of them cartoon characters with the bright red faces and the smoke comin' outta their ears, stomping all around, and he's prolly gonna kill somebody. It's prolly gonna be Rick. He always told me cops are bastard liars, and that they can't help us.

I look up at Rick. Yep, I've been crying.

Rick's all blurry, but I can still make out his ugly Sheriff's badge and his scary blue eyes and his frowning eyebrows that look like clenched fists, and I can tell he's been waiting to be the one to talk to me. I bet he thinks it makes him better than everyone else; better than my Uncle Merle, who he left to die just 'cause he ain't like him. I wanna kick Rick right in the face. I think he knows this, but he doesn't move.

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry about what happened to your Uncle Merle." Rick says all nice and gentle.

Nothin' happened to him.

It weren't no freak accident, which is what Uncle Merle used to say happened to my Momma.

Rick killed him.

"I know he meant a lot to you. And I'm sorry. If I had'a known he had a niece to come back to, maybe I woulda been a little wiser with my decision makin'. But Harley," He tilts his head and puts a hand on my knee for this part. "You gotta know, like I know, that your Uncle was a danger to us all."

There's a little angry parasite inside of me. It's been growing and growing ever since the group came back from Atlanta, and I couldn't find my Uncle Merle in the crowd. I've never noticed my Uncle Merle so much than when I realised he wasn't there. It was like there was the wrong amount of space left in the air and Rick was taking up the too much of it. Ever since the cars showed up, everything has been wrong, wrong, wrong.

Ever since Rick showed up.

"If I hadn't stepped in when and how I did," Rick says, "Your Uncle wouldda gotten us all in a lotta trouble."

Another log crumbles in the campfire. My finger aches and pulses around the string.

That hungry little parasite — hungry for Rick to hurt like I'm hurting, needing it more than anything — makes me tell him, "I wish he did." And again, because it feels good. Rick becomes even more blurry, as my voice makes an embarrassing hicking noise. "I wish you died."

I expect to be hit. That's what happens sometimes, when little girls don't know their place.

Tellin' adults I want them dead — That ain't my place. And I know it. I just don't care.

My Uncle Merle wasn't a danger, he was just Uncle Merle; Has been since I could talk. He used to feed me bits of his sandwich out on the deck back at home, like the tomato, 'cause he ain't like the taste. He used to fix my bike when it was broken. He used to make sure I was the first one to open presents at Christmas, and help me wrestle the wrapping when there was too much tape. He used to pull my wobbly baby teeth out for me and let me outside without shoes. He wasn't mean, or bad, or loud, or dangerous, or stupid; at least not always. He wasn't the one that got my Momma killed. He was good. And now he'd dead.

If someone had to die, I wish it had'a been Rick — Stupid, noisy, idiot Rick who ain't shed one single tear after what he done to my Uncle Merle.

I wanna get hit. I want him to hit me so bad that I'm allowed to hit him back.

"Okay." Rick says, and I can't breathe.

I feel like everything goes silent throughout camp, like the chairs and the cars and the people are all holding their breaths like I am. He actually looks a little sad, which feels really, really bad, because I wanna be angry.

"Okay. That's okay."

But as I think about my Uncle Merle, and the tomatoes, and my old bike, and what Christmas used to feel like, and my Daddy, and how he ain't even know about Merle yet, I realise I'm just really, really sad.

I can't even see Rick anymore, my eyes are so watery. My whole body hurts from being sad. I feel like I'm sick and I need to go to the doctor, but I don't even know what for. There aren't even any doctors here. Just two bastard liar cops, some campers, and a space where my Uncle Merle should be.

I think, after a while, Rick leaves.

My Dad still keeps his wallet.

It's in a backpack under his sleeping cot. He says that everything inside that bag will keep us alive some day, if we ever need to leave the quarry camp. He said I need to know exactly where it is so that I can grab it if he can't. He showed me everything the night we got here, because he forced me to, because it's important. The other kids don't learn stuff like this from their parents. It makes me feel smart. I'm in on a secret. He showed me the bug spray, which keeps our skin healthy from bug diseases, and he showed me the flashlight, which has two batteries and a big black button. He showed me the compass, the box of matches, the big knife, the little knife, the rope, and the map. It's like a Jenga tower. If we lose even one thing from the backpack; everything topples, and we die — I die. You gotta listen t'me, chicken. My Daddy's always been like this.

But the wallet made no sense.

We don't gotta pay taxes no more, like Merle said. I don't know what taxes are, except they're bad, and gone, and nobody liked them anyway. And I saw my Dad burn all his money in a campfire one night, so it can't be that.

It's the pictures, Dad told me. He flipped it open like a book, and we looked at 'em together on top of his sleeping bag. I felt like crying for a second because we forgot all my storybooks when we left our house, but Daddy hates it when I cry, so I dried up. Crying is for babies, and I'm a big girl. He showed me a photo of an actual baby, and after he touched the baby's face with his fingertip, he said the baby was me. I didn't think I could look like that. He stopped talking for a while. I listened to the cicadas in the trees to pass the time while he touched the photo. Then it was bedtime.

I'm looking at the photo now, waiting for him to get back.

I was a very pink baby. I was only the size of his forearm, which in the photo, hasn't been tattooed yet. The tattoo of my name is missing, which goes up his wrist in curly letters. Harley Davidson Dixon. It's the name of a motorcycle. The tattoo of the skull and the bleeding angel are missing, too. He's fixing my baby blanket around my chin. I guess he's been doing that since the day I was born. Every night, at least up until last week, my Dad tucks me into bed and sings me the same song. Hush little baby, don't say a word. Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. I like his voice when he sings to me. Usually, he's yelling, or grumblin', but in those twenty seconds before I have to go to sleep, and nobody else is listening, he's softly whispering the lyrics to me, and touching on my ears and my cheeks. In the photo, he's crying down into his smiling mouth. That's something he doesn't do anymore.

The next photo is of us at the zoo. I know it was taken on one of the weekends I was at my Dad's house, because my Momma's not in this one. Just my Dad and two of his friends, I think, who are throwing rock star hands in the air. I'm wearing a black shirt with a videogame character on it that my Dad likes, and brown pants. I'm sitting on my Dad's hip as we pose in front of three giant elephants. My Dad's got a tiny purple backpack over his shoulder that makes him look sorta funny. It used to be mine. I'm looking at the elephant's long, silly-straw trunk as it tries to sniff us, but my Daddy's lookin' at me. I wish I remembered this day.

The third photo is a school photo with a swirly blue background. I remember this one. My Momma did my hair that day.

I know why he keeps his wallet, now. Just like how we need the bug spray, and the matches, and the rope, and the knives, and the map, and the flashlight to stay alive — I think my Dad needs these photos. They won't keep him warm or stop bugs from chewing on him, but he needs them.

I shove the wallet back where I found it, 'cause I'm not meant to be goin' through my Dad's things.

My Dad comes back while I'm vomiting under a tree.

At first, he doesn't see me. He calls for me to come get my little butt over there, so I can help him and Uncle Merle stew up some rabbits for dinner but when he hears me retch, he comes running over. I hear his crossbow drop and some more people call after him.

One minute, Lori and Amy are holding back my hair and patting my shoulders the best they can, and the next, my Daddy's forcing his way in. I'm rocking and I'm swaying like I'm on a life raft in the ocean, and I can hear Rick's voice and then Shane's and then Dale's. My Dad grabs the back of my neck and squeezes it, the way Lori and Amy would never know how to do, and tells me to lean forward some more. It works. I vomit up a chunky puddle of peaches and jerky into the dirt.

Then, I'm empty, and I'm crying — crying hard — into my Dad's lap.

"Someone wanna tell me what the Hell's goin' on here?" He snarls at whoever's around.

Feels like half the camp is here.

"How 'bout we all just try—" Shane's suggesting, but my Dad cuts him off.

"How 'bout ya'll just spit it out? And where the Hell's my brother?"

That makes me bury deeper into my Dad's legs, moaning and hiccupping. He puts a hand over my head. He's clocked the problem.

"Where the Hell's my damn brother?"

"Look, Daryl," Shane levels, "I'm just gonna come out and say it, alright? There was a problem in Atlanta."

My Dad's panting, now. "What fuckin' 'problem'?"

"Listen—"

"He dead?" Underneath me, my Dad's muscles are lurching and stopping, lurching and stopping, like he wants so much to just jump up and knock Shane to the ground, but he won't bring himself to leave me. The camp has gone completely silent.

Shane stammers. I've never heard Shane stammer. "We're— We're not sure."

The silence just keeps on goin' and goin' and goin', and somehow, it's even scarier than the yelling.

"There's no easy way to say this," Rick says, voice lowered. I wonder what my Dad looks like; if I was right about the cartoon thing.

Dad presses my head further into his stomach. "Who're you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"'Rick Grimes'." He spits, like it's an insult. It is. Bastard cop liar. "You got sum' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all." Lies Rick. "So I handcuffed him on a roof; Hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

After he says this, something in the air must have changed; something must have snapped without even makin' a sound, because Lori's whispering to me that I should follow her back to camp, like we're running out of time. She tries to pull me away, but I kick her; kick her hard, in the shin. She tries again. I realise she's trying to separate me from my Dad. Then, I realise he's sorta shaking. Lurching, stopping, lurching stopping. Silence, silence.

"Lemme get this straight." Dad whispers, and it's not the nice kind, like when he sings. "You're tellin' me that you handcuffed my brother to a roof."

Glenn's pulling at me now, too. Nobody else moves a muscle.

"And you left him there?!"

This time, he lurches and he doesn't stop. Glenn catches me as I'm flung from my Daddy's hip, and he passes me off to Lori as Dad goes lunging at Rick. The brown pebbles go flying up into the air. My Dad tackles Rick at the waist, and they crash into the leaves and the twigs, and his fist — The one with my birth date tattooed on each knuckle — goes smack, smack, smack, into Rick's cheek. There's yelling; scrambling. Glenn and Shane pull my Dad off of Rick, and that smacking sound stops. Dad beats Shane offa him and then, —

"Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells. Now there's a swishing sound, and grunting sounds, and I was right — My Daddy's gonna kill Rick.

My Daddy's killed someone before. He did it on accident, 'cause he got so angry that he didn't stop until the guy was dead and gone, which means that it was aggravated manslaughter. It was in the afternoon, just like it is right now, and I was playin' in the front yard in the sprinklers. My Dad and Uncle Merle were in the open garage, smoking and poking at their bikes with tools. Ronnie lived two trailers down. I was small, and easy to pick up, so I don't remember much, but Ronnie snatched me up right there in the yard. My Daddy says he was gon' take me. But he didn't let him. Ronnie got chased into the woods, and for two days, my Daddy and Uncle Merle searched for him. Then they beat him so bad his Momma ain't recognise him when the ambulance people dragged him out in a big black bag, and the cops took my Daddy away while the sun rose. I wasn't allowed to see him for four and a half years.

I need my Dad. Suddenly, I'm shrieking at him to stop, even though I want Rick dead so bad. By now, Shane's got my Dad in a chokehold up against a tree. Are he and Rick allowed to take my Daddy away? Lori and — I think that's Amy — are shushin' me, but I just keep hittin' on them and shouting.

I writhe in the dirt. "Stop! Daddy!"

"Damn pigs!" Dad growls. "You're stressin' out my kid, now! Lemme the Hell go!"

Shane laughs. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Then he turns to Lori, because what my Dad said is true. "Get Harley out of here."

I don't let her move me when she tries.

Dad struggles. "Chokehold's illegal, bastard!"

"You can file a complaint later." Shane scoffs. "We got all day here."

Rick steals my Dad's knife off the ground and gets in his face. His cheek is all red and purple. The fight's over. "What I did was not on a whim," He tells my Dad straight. "Your brother does not work and play well with others. I did what had to be done in the moment, to keep us all alive."

He's lyin'. He's lyin' again. My Uncle Merle chopped these people's firewood and brought them meat. He worked well.

My Dad shoots out a foot to try hit Rick in the crotch. He misses. Shane pushes his face harder into the tree.

"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog holds up his hands, coming close. "It's mine. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Dad sasses.

"It fell in a drain." T-Dog serves up this answer like it means anything at all. I hate him.

"If that's 'posed to make me feel better, it don't."��

"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog's lookin' at me, now, too. "The door to the roof — I locked it with a padlock so the geeks couldn't get to him. There's a good chance he's still alive."

I heard this all before, when all them people kept coming up to me at the campfire. Lori told me to get some food in my stomach; the peaches and jerky. Shane tried to make me go play with Carl. T-Dog said sorry over and over again. Dale gave me the blanket. Rick made me cry. I know how this goes, though. Gettin' someone killed and killin' them with your actual hands are the same thing. I know that.

"To Hell with all'a ya'll!"

He shakes Shane off and beelines for me. He takes me from Lori with bloodied hands — Rick's blood — and I let him yank me by the back of my shirt to my feet, and I fall into his chest when he crouches. His breath is heavy on my neck. Even his skin is hot.

Lori's pale as an egg. I think she's scared of my Dad.

He takes a big breath, stands up, and drags me by the hand back to our tent without sayin' another word.

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daddy issues #rick grimes #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #daryl dixon daughter #parent daryl dixon

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