#I’m at the point of the night where I’m crying

[princepotionsss]

poly! tf141 hybrids x reader au 2/?

WARNINGS: language, brief (not descriptive) SA , reader is afab

(Pls be nice I’m not very good at writing, not proofread)

It has been six months since you got your first hybrid, a mastiff named John Price. The two of you were inseparable. Everything was perfect. You didn’t think about getting another hybrid because why? Your hybrid was everything you ever needed, John was everything you ever needed.

That was until you were coming home late from a friend’s birthday party in the city and had to park two blocks away from the restaurant. You insisted to John that he needn’t come, that you’d be fine. You were a big girl who never had any problems before. So you went alone.

Walking the cold streets of the city at night felt like an adventure you never really went on. Distant sound of cars honking and laughter could be heard. Saying goodbye to your friends you left the restaurant and headed towards your car which was parked on a side street so blocks away. Not terrible but could be better.

As you walked the streets got quieter and a bit more sketchy. Building lights flickered and the street just felt eerie. Coming upon an alley a group of men who were standing around smoking a cigarette eyed you. Slightly panicked you started to walk faster because you were so close to your car, you could see it!

Too afraid to look back you kept your eyes ahead and your pace fast until you felt a cold arm grab you. Yanked into the alley you were now surrounded by three strange men who all smelled like cat piss and smoke.

You tried to push away only to find yourself being pushed hard against the dirty brick wall, your white petty coat now ruined.

Your hands are held down as you feel a hand snake to your thigh and the now regretful short skirt that John picked out for you. John! You thought about your hybrid and how you needed him.

Crying out you yell for help. Tears prick your eyes as a dirty hand clamps over your mouth as the men yell and more hands roam your body.

Muffled cries and thrashing came but you were stuck in place against your will. Suddenly a giant crash came from deeper in the alley and a figure stalked its way up. It was a hybrid, a German shepherd to be exact. The hybrid wore a skull ski mask and had tattered clothes. The hybrid was covered in tattoos and dirty.

“Get off her.” The hybrid growled in a deep gruff British accent. The men laughed and told him to fuck off. Your cries still muffled by the hand over your mouth. Your lipstick was definitely now smeared even though that was the least of your current problems.

The hybrid growled and grabbed the men attacking them like a wild animal. You fell to the grown crying holding your self tightly. The three men ran out of the alley to get away leaving you and the animalistic raged hybrid.

The hybrid stopped growling and sighed before walking over to you. You sat on the ground crying and now shaking. Your fingers gripped your skirt trying to keep it down.

The hybrid gently grabbed your arm and hoisted you to your feet “you alright?” The thick gruff accent asked you making you feel small. You glanced up at him, the ski mask with a skull on it covering his face still but blood seeped through it and down his neck.

“You’re bleeding.” Is all you mumbled out shaking. The German Shepard hybrid scoffed and wiped his face with the hand of hand. “Not mine.” His blue eyes looked deeply into yours, the harshness had gone but still it was unsettling to be so close.

“Now where you heading?” He asked gruff as ever, his tone almost alluding to being annoyed.

“M-my car, the black one.” You shakily pointed to the back suv just up the street. The hybrid nodded and led you to the car his grip on your arm not harsh but not letting go. The hybrids ears were on point alert and his tail was dangling in between his legs as he walked next to you. The fluffy pointed ears twitched at every sound, his piercing blue eyes scanned the area for any danger.

As you got to your car you pulled your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the suv.

Bright lights and an unlocking sound were heard as the scary looking hybrid opened your car door for you.

You went to get in but paused. Your eyes scanned him. He was tall, scary and still had blood seeping from his mask down his neck. His clothes were tattered and dirty along with his tattooed covered arms.

“Get in little bird.” He huffed annoyed but you didn’t listen. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and guilt was seeping in. You couldn’t just leave him.

“What about you?” You ask in a soft quiet voice, not wanting to upset the hybrid. He looked down and his ears flickered an emotion you couldn’t read. His blue eyes stared deeply at you.

“Where will you go? Those guys could report you and-“ you started to ramble “just get in the fucking car.” He swore his eyes almost testing your sincerity.

“No!” You said a bit louder. “You, I’m not leaving you on the streets to get caught and euthanized.” You crossed your arms firmly. The hybrids ears dickered flat for a second before he let out a deep growl. “You have another hybrid, I can smell him.” He started to argue. “So? He won’t mind, get in my car. Your death would be on me.” You say firmly but your voice low. The guilt had already set in.

You could imagine hybrid control grabbing him and him fighting back but sadly losing. Then being euthanized for being aggressive. The thought sent a chill down your spine.

The hybrid growled but went around an got in the car. His ears were pinned flat annoyed and on edge as he stared at you to get in the car.

“Let’s bloody go then little bird.” He scoffed.

It was a miracle you both made it to your house in one piece the way you were driving. The adrenaline finally wore off and you were exhausted. You felt dirty and wanted nothing more to go shower and curl up into John’s arms.

Pulling into your driveway you hear the hybrid next to you release a sigh “thank fuck.” You hear him mutter aggravated. If you weren’t shaky you would have laughed. You got out of the car slightly stumbling and you call for John. His name escapes your lips in a small cry.

You walk to the house the other hybrid walking behind you. “John!” You cry out again and you try and unlock the door. The door opens before you can finish and John steps out into the cold night encapsulating you into his arms . His eyes are trained on the hybrid behind you, his tail and ears on guard.

You crumple into his arms crying as you retell what happened “and I couldn’t let him die!” You dramatically sob into your hybrids chest as his large hands just rub your back and shoulders. “Sweetheart he wouldn’t have died.” John say gruffly taking in the homeless hybrid who was caked in dry blood.

“I wasn’t going to fight her.” Is all the other hybrid said with a scoff. You ignored both in your shaking “you don’t know that!” You pout with tears.

“Alright alright.” John sighed in a low deep tone as he gently wiped your tears. “He can stay the bloody night.”

The two hybrids stared at each other as you took a deep breath trying to calm down.

“What’s your name?” You hiccup as you walk into the house, the two hybrids following you. The new hybrid stood hesitant and alert in the doorway as the door was closed.

“Ghost.” The hybrid said on defense. You sniffled as you nodded. You told him your name. “And this is John.” You introduce your hybrid to the wild one.

The two just looked at each other having a silent conversation. The silence was eerie and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “Go get him clothes sweetheart, I’ll show him to the guest room.” John instructed and you nodded.

As you returned from upstairs with a pair of fresh clothes for Ghost you gently handed them to him. Johnny stood next to you watching intensely.

Ghost grabbed the clothes and retreated into the guest room closing it without even a thank you. You twiddled nervously and looked up to John who just scoffed rolling his eyes as his hands found your waist.

“Come let’s get you a bath yeah?” John guided you to your shared bathroom.

What an insane night.

[toonice113]

Slut! ⋆ ★ N.Hischier 

0. ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁  Begin again 

Pairings: Nico Hischier x Singer!FMC (Teddy Wells)

Summary: Teddy has just gone through a horrible breakup, her best friend gives her the chance to begin again by setting her up on a date.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of breakdowns, Lando Norris being a horrible ex (he gets worse sorry)

Word count: 1.7k

Face claim: Nicole Wallace

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Welcome to the intro for my new Nico fic, as it stands this will have 3 parts (Peace, But daddy I love him and Slut!) plus this intro. I had the idea for this a while ago and planned to write it as a full thing on wattpad but I get bored of my projects so quickly that I decided not to do it and so here we are now with a three part series, I’m not sure when the rest of it will go up as I only have an outline of it but keep an eye out for it! Anyways I kinda rushed to write this while I could because lately I’ve been getting a million ideas but when I start to write it just disappears so it might not be the best but I hope you still enjoy it.

Breakups are hard, breaking up for the second time with the guy you thought you were going to marry and spend the rest of your life with is harder, add fame to the mix and it is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. For the past month I’ve been hiding away from everyone in my NYC apartment, the first week was the worse, moving out of our Monaco apartment in the middle of the night, calling Alyssa so she could book me the next flight back to America then having to contain myself during the trip so no one realized how broken I was, arriving back at the NYC apartment I broke down and spent that whole week crying on the couch. Alyssa herself took a flight to Monaco the next week after making sure that I was well enough to at least feed myself to retrieve the things I had left behind, while she was away I had the most humbling experience of my life (more than the one time where someone almost threw me out of my own show while backstage but that’s a different story) when I set the table for two people while on autopilot and then burned one of the placemats when I realized what I had done leading to yet another breakdown. A month after my breakup I had pulled myself together enough to be trusted to be left alone, and I only did it because I felt selfish for keeping Alyssa in New York when I knew she had a trip planned to see her family in Switzerland, she begged for me to join her but I didn’t want to intrude and bring down the happy mood.

Alyssa came back two weeks later with a plan and no intention of backing out of it, she was setting me up with one of her friend’s brother who lived in New Jersey, a hockey player named Nico who according to Alyssa if he wasn’t one of her best friend’s brother she would’ve smashed (her words not mine). I of course rejected the date immediately, I had just gotten to the point of not crying at the sight of my ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend who he had cheated on me with, because of course although he hadn’t confirmed anything there were tons of pictures of the two online, so I was in no state to go out on dates but my best friend does not back down, like ever, which is one of the qualities I liked about her so much when I first hired her to be my personal assistant, I’ve never not gotten a reservation I’ve wanted even if said reservation was in the new cool restaurant that already has a six month waiting list. After days of nagging I finally gave in, and that’s how I found myself on the back of an Uber on a Wednesday on my way to a coffee shop in Hoboken nervously picking at my nails and straightening the skirt of my dress over and over again until the driver announces that we have arrived, I thank him and walk out, I’m five minutes early and I don’t expect him to arrive on time, Lando never did, so I probably have some time to settle down on a table before he arrives, to calm my nerves a little, but when I walk through the door I see him sitting on a table on the other end of the cafe, that is thankfully not that busy, he looks better than in the pictures Alyssa showed me. Slowly I approach him and as soon as he notices me he gets up to greet me “Teddy, hi” he speaks out and I can’t help but swoon a little in my head at his voice “I’m Nico” he introduces himself with a smile putting is hand out for a handshake

“Hi” I take his hand “It’s nice to meet you” I’m sure my voice comes out shaky but he doesn’t say anything about it an instead pulls my chair out so I can sit after we let go of the handshake

“Do you want to order?” he asks motioning to the small menu in the middle of the table “I’m not sure what you like but I was looking at the menu and there seem to be a good selection of pastries that my trainers would probably disapprove of but oh well” 

We order and talk for a bit while sipping on our drinks and eating our pastries, I let him take the lead in the conversation partly because I’m nervous as this is my first date with someone other than Lando in a very long time, and even with Lando dates were scarce, but also because I don’t want to be rude and interrupt the stories he’s telling me “So how did you meet Alyssa?” he asks after he finishes his story

“Uh she’s my assistant actually, well the title is forgotten most of the time nowadays since we’ve gotten so close but yeah my manager thought I needed someone to help me around and I interviewed around six people before Alyssa walked in, I was actually about to call the rest of the interviews before she came in because I was having problems scheduling some recording sessions, but she walked in and helped me figure it out in ten minutes, and that’s how I knew she was the one” I say and this is probably the longest I’ve talked in the twenty five minutes we’ve been chatting “We became friends fast, although between you and me I think she just pretends to like me because I pay her” I joke and he chuckles letting me see his dimples.

“You know when Nina called about setting me up on a date I said no because I know better than to trust my sister with my love life” He says and I notice his voice goes softer when he talks about his sister “And then he added Alyssa to the call and I knew I was done for” 

“She is good at convincing people to do things they don’t want to do” I agree “Last year she decided we were gonna go camping and as much as I enjoy nature I’m more of a glamping kind of girl, like I love the idea of sitting around a fire surrounded by nothing but green but Alyssa’s idea of camping was more like a tent and sleeping bags” he listens to me attentively and it’s kind of new to have someone look that interested in what I have to say “Anyways I say yes and we get to the place, we went with a couple other friends and she was in charge of getting our tents and stuff, turns out she got a kid sized tent for both of us” he cackles, and his laugh makes me chuckle too “Thankfully we fit somehow but only if we slept like basically cuddling and that is how I found out Alyssa is a real fan of snuggling when she sleeps” he laughs again, his dimples deepening “I had to pee at some point, thankfully there were porta potties, so I had to untangle myself from her and it was such a challenge that I thought I would pee right there but finally I got out and went to the restroom and then as I was going back to the tent I saw something move where we had stored our food and got so scared I ran to our tent and woke Alyssa up telling her there was a bear, because I was convinced it was a bear, both Alyssa and I armed ourselves with the only things we had in the tent, our flashlights, and when we came out ready to attack we found out it was only one of our friends having a midnight snack” he laughs even harder, throwing his head back and I can’t remember the last time someone found one of my stories this funny “Safe to say I’m never camping again much less with Alyssa” 

“Oh man” He looks back at me after his laughing subsides “So you were planning on fighting a bear with your flashlights?” 

I nod, smiling “You wanna know the best part?” he nods with a raised eyebrow “They were those pocket flashlights that are smaller than your hand” his head falls back again as he laughs more “There was no space for the big ones in our kiddie tent!” I exclaim laughing with him 

We stayed at the cafe for a couple hours just getting to know each other, and for a while I forgot all about Lando and my heartbreak, finally after my uber arrived, a street over because they had closed the street we were in for some random thing they had to fix while we were in the coffee shop, our chatter subsided, and as we walked to the car in silence I saw a poster for an athletic brand with Lando in it and just as I was about to say something about it, Nico picked up the conversation again talking about the holidays as we passed by a little shop selling christmas ornaments (even though it was not yet christmas time) “We always watch Elf, it’s my favorite christmas movie and I begged my mom every day for like two weeks to make me the spaghetti, finally one day she agreed to let me prepare it with the leftovers after she made dinner, I ended up throwing up in the bathroom” This time I chuckle 

“Poor baby Nico” I say poking his side 

“Well not really baby Nico, I think I was like twelve or thirteen when it happened” We both laugh and then we are standing in front of my uber “So… Thank you for today” 

“I should be the one saying thank you” I say smiling at him “I had a great time” 

“Me too” he hesitates a little but then he pulls me in for a hug, opening the door for me as we let go “Let me know when you get home safe” I nod with one last smile and get on the car waving goodbye feeling a little sad that the date is over, which is weird because just three hours ago I was so sure this would’ve gone horribly wrong but now all I can think about is when I’m going to see this man again and of course thanking Alyssa for setting this up and giving me the opportunity to begin again.

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Seven -> Next Chapter

Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes @cxcilla @nemesis-writer

You are riding your bike just across the bridge, pulling into a small and long abandoned dock which was rendered unusable due to an Arkham Asylum breakout incident two months ago. You dismounted your bike, leaving it relating against a busted up fire hydrant, the motorcycle most likely enduring a scrape on the metal. You tugged at your hair, a sharp in take of the cold air of Gotham which made a noise which was reminiscent of a hiss. You felt like you were about to cry but instead you screamed, it was guttural and painful, like you had been stabbed in the gut or like when you fell of that bridge a few weeks prior to only be saved by Dick Grayson, you wanted to actually kill yourself in this moment or at least hit something.

As it could not get any worse you could hear the roar of an engine as it slowed down in the vehicle’s approach to you.

Your father.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” You heard his voice boom from behind you following the noise of the door of the Batmobile opening, his footsteps stomping towards you. He never got this level of anger at you as a child, even when you did start dating your now fiancé without his permission or when you punched a boy in your class in the face, well punch is a light word, you beat him bloody as a ten year old. “You cannot make a scene like that, you are going to put yourself in danger!”

“Wake up, I am in this world now, are you not in danger every night? What about Dick, Tim, Cassandra, what about them?” You snapped back at him, turning around at him, looking at him with that intense pain and anger that burned within them. “You all consider them your own, hell Damian is your biological child just like me and yet you treat me as if I am an incapable, helpless, broken child, a little girl who cannot do anything without her father breathing down her neck.”

“They are trained and have been doing this for a number of years-“

“So have I! I have taught myself everything over the last four years and yet you still see me as a child even now, I have done everything they have and yet you act as if I will break my leg if I even so much as trip when walking.” You scoffed, throwing your arms up in the air, you were exasperated at this point. “I am tired of being treated like a little girl, by all of you! I am exhausted trying to prove myself to you, so much so that I have only now decided to pursue my own happiness, the engagement was not to spite you or anyone else, it was for me and my own happiness for the rest of my life and unlike you I will actually be able to put the mask when the person who loves me asks me to, I won’t have them leave me when they are pregnant because they are terrified of what life their daughter will have with her father being who he is.”

“You let your emotions get the best of you, you put a target on your back because of your behavior back there.” He scolded you, his eyes narrowing at you from beneath the cowl. “You will get yourself killed by running around like this, your brothers and sisters are able to work with their heads clear but it’s clear that you let your anger control you-“

“Is that what you said when Jason came back as Red Hood, wanting to kill the Joker? Or when Dick left the manor and stopped being Robin because he couldn’t stand being in your shadow?” You rolled your eyes, walking back to your motorcycle, swinging your leg over the motorcycle, the engine purring beneath you. “Don’t try to drag me back, I don’t need your protection and I’m not yours anymore. Try anything and you’ll never see me again, trust me a lifetime is much longer than four years.”

______________________

You say on the ledge of a building, not quite willing to go back to the penthouse where Gabriel and his parents awaited for you to return but you were not ready to patrol around the city and potentially encounter your family, not a doubt in your mind that they were out and about with the party over. You sighed, resting your head on your hands and looking out over the city as you sat on top of an apartment building downtown, you would need to get back on a daytime sleep schedule again if you wanted to move on past your vigilantism, to be able to put up your mask for good.

“I thought I told you to return to your home.” You jumped up when you heard a familiar voice speak from behind you. You turned your head around to see a figure under the dim light of Gotham streetlights, Talia Al Ghul. “And yet here you are, disobeying your father at every turn.”

“He may be my biological father, but I will not treat him as such because that is not what he deserves, and I’m not going to back down from a fight just because you asked me to.” You snapped at her, standing up from the ledge, your body tensing as your hand came to rest on your belt, more specifically on an emergency signal that would alert your team if anything remotely went south or maybe even your family depending on if Barbara got into the security system again. “What do you want? I don’t really want to see you right now.”

“It is not me who wants to speak to you this time I am afraid.” She replied, a smile playing on the corner of her lips as she takes out a piece of fabric, a scarf, a very beautiful and most likely a priceless piece, and you certainly knew fabrics and fashions, your mother had a passion for them when you were growing up with just her and she took you traveling the world, your childhood home before you two returned to Gotham was in Singapore, your mother never wanted to come back to Gotham, but that was a story for another day. Talia handed you the scarf and then guided your hand underneath the jacket you wore over your suit. “When you are willing, wear this and someone will retrieve you, do not worry you will not be harmed and you will be returned right where you were taken.”

“I don’t think I understand-“

“My own father would like to see you, nothing more than pleasant conversation, maybe a bit of tea?” Her hand trailed up your cheek, stroking it affectionately as if nothing was wrong at all. “But I would not wait forever, patience is a virtue that does not last forever, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that, and I’m not particularly fond of the idea of meeting your father, especially the idea of being kidnapped to do so.” You sighed, slipping out your hand and glancing at the scarf she gave you. “But it’s a shame really since this is a really beautiful scarf, it reminds me of the sort of thing my mother would wear back when we lived in… never mind that was a long time ago.”

“Well you can keep it, it is a gift after all. You did remind me that I should pay your mother a visit, I have a few gifts for her, such a sweet thing.”

“You know she can’t stand you, right? My father also hates the idea of you being near her especially after how you conceived Damian, I-“ You were about to finish your sentence which was already earning a scowl from her but your phone rang, tucked inside your utility belt pocket. You sighed, keeping your eyes locked on Talia as you dug out your phone from your pocket, taking a look down at the caller ID, your now fiancé. “I… I have to take this, it’s… it’s my fiancé.”

“Go ahead, I will see you soon anyway, my dearest girl.” You blinked and in a moment she was gone, disappeared out of nowhere. You only glanced around for a moment before sighing and answering the phone.

“Hey dove, are you alright? Your father ran off pretty quickly after you left, your siblings and Miss Gordon too, I think they’re worried about you… do they know you’re…”

“Yes, they do know I’m Songbird, even if I wish they didn’t.” You replied to Gabriel, assuming what he was going to ask over the phone and of course you were right. “Look I’ll be back soon, really it was just a camera malfunction in the Joker’s cell-“

“The Joker?! You were… I… this is exactly why I want you to quit, I just don’t want you hurt by crazies like him.” You heard his voice sigh from the other end of the line. “Look, just come back in one piece.”

“Don’t worry about me too much, the Batman tailed me in there and made me sit on the side lines, the man is the most paranoid person I have ever met.” You rolled your eyes at the memory of your father back there and the unsettling comments of the Joker. “Look I’ll be back before morning, don’t wait for me… I need to meet up with some people.”

“Who may that be?”

“…for lack of a better term, my aunt.”

“You have an aunt?”

“Kind of… sort of?”

______________________

You parked your bike outback, behind a high end apartment building that was your destination. You took off your suit, leaving you in your evening gown and you tucked the pin into your small handbag, alongside your lipgloss and phone. You walked up the backstairs, avoiding the lobby and the doorman and so no one would take photos of you and the gossip headline would not be about the youngest Wayne child running about the city after you disappeared for four years, which was scandal enough.

The apartment hallway was cold, the air conditioning blasting as your heels clicked against the tile. Then eventually you reached a door at the end of the hallway and it took you a moment but you eventually mustered up the courage to knock. You could hear the sound of footsteps from behind the door and the sound of the lock and the door knob turning…

“Selina… hi…” The woman before you did not look shocked at the sight of you like you expected, instead she just smiled at you. “I’d like to talk… if you have the time-“

“I’ll get some wine.” She opened the door wide for you, allowing you to step into her apartment which was far warmer than the hallway. “Make yourself at home, Kitten.”

“Thank you, Selina.” You replied to her, walking straight into her living room and sitting down on the couch and as she walked off to the kitchen to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of chardonnay. “I… I got engaged.”

“Oh I know.” You glanced back at her in the kitchen as she poured the wine into each glass and with her free hand she held something up, your engagement ring. “Snagged your ring.”

“Selina!”

“Sorry, sorry, Kitten.” She laughed, taking both wine glasses back out to her living room where you sat. “Besides Dick came by whining about it after that party at that museum, he was practically sobbing, but so have been telling them all since you left that you have moved on with your life a long time ago, probably off traveling the world, but you stayed in Gotham of all places, after all this time.”

“Ya… I guess I just wanted to prove a point to my old man, Dick, Jason, Tim- all of them really, that I can do anything they can.” You held your hand out as Selina set the glasses of wine on the coffee table and she took your hand in hers as she sat down next to you and she slipped the ring back on your finger. “Dick didn’t tell you anything about who I am engaged to, did he?”

“Only that he hated everything about that and felt as if you were dying right before his eyes.” She grabbed the glass of wine that was hers and she took a sip before looking down at your hand and engagement ring again. “But I have to say that is one hell of a stone, how much?”

“It’s an heirloom, it was his great grandmother’s ring… or was it his great great grandmother’s ring? I wish I could remember.” You looked down at the ring and smiled wide, leaning your head back on the couch. “Two million to answer your question and his name is Gabriel Christel.”

“Two million?! Kitten, you have him wrapped around your finger and lapping at every word you say.” She giggled like a little girl, before standing up from the couch and walking back to the kitchen and grabbing her laptop from the counter while one of her many cats that she took in as strays jumped up onto your lap and curled up against you. She sat down right next to you, opening her laptop. “What are you thinking about with the wedding? Colors? Flowers? Guest list?”

“I don’t know any of that yet I’m afraid… but Selina, I need to ask you a favor.” You reached over and closed her laptop, not wanting to talk about any wedding planning at the moment. “This is Songbird business and right now Songbird needs Catwoman.”

“Of course, Kitten.” She set her laptop aside and pushed it onto the coffee table next to hers and your wine glasses. “What is it? And I promise, whatever you ask, whatever you say will never reach the ears of your father.”

“Well, it will eventually….” You sighed, squeezing your brow between your thumb and forefinger. “There are many people of different organizations who may be after me, but if something happens to me, please look after my friends, they would not be able to survive in Gotham without me and I doubt my family would be keen on lending a helping hand since they helped hide me for four years.”

“You really didn’t have to ask me that, lovely.” She smiled at you, taking your hands in her own, giving them a soft squeeze as her sharpened nails ever so slightly pressed against the skin of your knuckles, not hard enough to break skin at all, no she was always gentle with you. “I will always look after you, and that includes your friends too.”

“Thank you, Selina.”

“Now, that aside, I do want to talk about wedding dresses with you.” She reached out and grabbed her computer, quickly dropping the topic as quickly as you brought it up. She opened her computer, turning it on and her sharp nails tapped against the keyboard as she typed in her password. “What is your budget?”

“…there is none.”

“Now you’re talking my kind of language, Kitten.”

______________________

Selina leaned back on her couch, your head resting on her lap, you were long fast asleep. Selina had gotten a makeup wipe and she took off your makeup along with practically doing a whole skincare routine on you, after all she cannot have the future bride to be breaking out. She slipped off your heels and set them next to your handbag on the coffee table, besides designer brands like that hardly get worn anyway.

“I knew you were going to show up, Brucie.” Selina commented, glancing over her shoulder at the figure that lingered in the shadows of her apartment, near her window that she accidentally left open to air out the food she accidentally burned not too long before you came. She held her finger up to her lips in a shushing motion as he stepped closer, just close enough to love over the couch and see you sleeping on her lap. “She practically passed out about an hour ago, the poor kitten is just so tired, probably all the family stress you put her through.”

“Hmm… she put herself in danger today.” Your father spoke, walking around the couch so Selina would not have to roll her neck about just to see him, his footsteps as quiet as a mouse as to not wake you, but then his eyes fell upon the empty glasses of wine. He picked up one of the glasses, your empty glass, he ran his finger along the rim, collecting the liquid that was left behind before shooting a glare at Selina. “You drugged her.”

“She was exhausted, I could hear how tired she sounded, again probably from the stress.” Selina sighed, scratching at your scalp, messaging your head as she ran her fingers and nails through your hair. “If you’ve come to take her back to the manor I won’t allow you to.”

“Not… not yet.” Selina watched as the Batman kneeled down on the ground next to you, brushing the hair out of your face. He looked down at your hand and the engagement ring upon your finger, he sighed and slid it off, but of course he had to return it under Selina’s watchful eye. He sighed and pried one of the smaller diamonds off of the ring with a batarang and before Selina could raise an objection he took something out of a small pouch on his utility belt, a fake diamond. “It’s a tracker, just to make sure she is okay.”

“And so you can spy on her at any hour of the day.” Selina snapped back at Bruce, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You really are the most paranoid person I have ever met.”

“I am keeping my daughter safe.” She watched as Bruce slipped the engagement ring back onto your finger. “She is young and reckless.”

“Hm… well, may I have that loose diamond, that alone is worth a small fortune.”

“Selina.”

“Fine.”

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : Deaths, battle, injury, fights, stabbing etc…

A/N : 7.2k of words for the end… last chapter I’m crying guys. I finished a fanfic for once. It has been my honor to introduce you to this AU I had the idea of, a cold winter night. Special thanks to @bimbo-baggins17 and @anisangeldust for helping me with tiny details. Hope you’ll enjoy. ����

꧁ Chapter 9 : The Thorn in the Rose ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

No dawn could match your gentle grace,

Nor stars outshine your radiant face.

The moon itself would pale and fade,

Before your gaze, where wonders stayed.

Under Anakin’s desperate gaze, you crumbled to the ground, the arrow embedded deep beneath your heart.

“No… No, no, no…” His voice cracked as he dropped his sword and stumbled toward you, falling to his knees as though the weight of the world had struck him too. He took you into his trembling arms, his hands frantic, caressing your face, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Stay with me. Stay,” he whispered, his voice breaking into a plea. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “Please… please…”

Blood soaked through your gown, staining his hands. His lips pressed to your temple, desperate and feverish. “God… help me. No…no…God please, help me, help us. Someone, anyone—help her!” His words turned into a raw roar, echoing through the chaos of the battlefield. His men fought on, unaware that their commander—their lion—had been brought to his knees by something far more devastating than a sword.

You reached up weakly, your fingers brushing his cheek. “Anakin…”

“Don’t speak,” he begged, his voice soft and frantic. “Save your strength. I’ll get you help. I’ll—” He choked on his words, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your lips, muttering prayers between each kiss. “I need you… You’re my heart. You’re everything.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks, mixing with the blood on your gown. His hands pressed against your wound, desperate to stop the bleeding. “Stay with me,” he whispered again, like a mantra, like a lifeline.

You gazed up at him through heavy lids, love in your eyes, despite the pain. “Our baby…” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Anakin cradled you closer, his chest heaving with sobs he couldn’t contain. “Our baby will know you. I swear it. They’ll know you—your kindness, your strength, your heart.” He kissed your hand, pressing it against his cheek, holding on like he was afraid you’d slip away.

In the distance, another arrow flew, striking the ground near them, but Anakin didn’t flinch. The world was burning around him, but he saw only you.

The stone halls of Ashmore Castle echoed with the distant roar of battle. Anakin moved swiftly through the narrow corridors, his arms cradling you against his chest as if you were made of glass. Blood seeped through your gown, staining his tunic, but he barely noticed. His mind was consumed by one thought: Save her. Save her.

“You’re going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he pushed open a hidden door leading to a secluded chamber at the castle’s heart. His breathing was ragged, his steps faltering as exhaustion began to set in, but he didn’t stop. He laid you gently on the stone floor, his hands immediately pressing against your wound to stem the bleeding.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you gazed at him weakly. “Anakin…”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head as he knelt beside you. “Don’t speak. You need to save your strength.” He tore a strip from his cloak and pressed it to the wound, his hands clumsy and shaking. His usual calm, precise movements were gone, replaced by frantic desperation.

Your lips curved into a faint smile. “Remember when you said arrows always managed to find your most vital points?”

Anakin’s hands froze, his eyes snapping to yours, wide with anguish. “My rose…” His voice broke. “You are my most vital point.” His shoulders trembled, and his head fell forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “Please… please don’t you die on me. Not here… not like this…”

Tears began to fall, streaking down his bloodstained face as he whispered against your skin. “You can’t… you can’t leave me… For me… for our unborn child… please…” His voice cracked, the words coming out in ragged sobs. “For our little girl…”

You stirred faintly, your hand lifting to brush against his cheek. “H-how do you know it’s a girl?” you whispered.

Anakin’s chest heaved as he struggled to speak through his tears. “Because I know it,” he said softly, his voice trembling with love and sorrow. “The most beautiful little princess… with your eyes and your hair… and my nose and lips. She’s as beautiful as her mother… and as fierce as her father.”

He placed your hand over his heart, pressing it there as if willing you to feel the life beating inside him. “So please, my rose… for our little girl… don’t you die on me.”

You gazed at him, tears welling in your own eyes as you saw the raw, unyielding love in his. His lips trembled as he kissed your hand, then your temple, his breath ragged with grief and hope all at once.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered fiercely. “Do you hear me? I won’t. You’re everything to me. You’re my home. And I will fight for you. I will always fight for you.”

But even as he spoke, your eyelids fluttered, the exhaustion overtaking you. Your breathing slowed, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips as darkness began to pull you under.

“No…” Anakin sobbed, pulling you closer. “No! Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me, my love. Please… stay with me.”

The battle raged on outside, but for Anakin, the only battle that mattered was here—fighting to keep you alive, fighting against the cruel fate threatening to take you away.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Stay with me… for our little girl…”

Anakin carried you in his arms as he stumbled through the crumbling remains of Ashmore Castle, his breaths heavy with exertion and grief. The night air was thick with smoke, the sky painted in hues of crimson and ash. Behind him, he could still hear the clash of swords, the anguished cries of dying men—his men—who had followed him into this doomed battle.

As Anakin pressed a cloth against your wound to stop the bleeding, you could see the torment in his eyes. His hands trembled, his breaths uneven. You could barely feel the pain anymore — only the ache in your heart, the sorrow of what you were about to leave behind.

Your tears spilled over, voice breaking as you spoke. "I'm sorry."

Anakin’s head snapped up. "No." His voice was sharp, panicked. "No, don't say that."

"I'm so sorry," you whispered again, the words barely audible through your sobs. "I'm sorry we won't be able to meet her."

His whole body tensed as if struck. "Don't. Don't you say that."

Tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to go on, needing him to understand. "You always wanted to be a father. You talked about it… dreamed about it. And now—" Your voice cracked. "Now I’ve stolen that from you."

Anakin shook his head fiercely, tears streaming down his face. "No. You haven’t stolen anything. You’ve given me everything."

Your lip trembled. "I wanted to hold her. To see her smile. To hear her laugh."

"You will," Anakin insisted, his voice cracking with emotion. "You will hold her. You will teach her to paint. You will show her everything you are. And if you can't, then I will. I swear to you, she'll grow up knowing you."

"But it's not the same," you whispered. "You deserve more than just memories, Anakin. You deserve to be a father in every way."

Anakin’s tears fell faster as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours. His voice broke as he whispered, "You are my family. You and her. You’ve already made me a father the moment we knew about her."

"I'm sorry," you whispered again, your heart breaking with every word.

"Stop apologizing." His voice grew more desperate. "Don’t give up on me. On us. Please… fight. For her. For me. For the life we promised to give her."

Your hand trembled as you placed it over his heart. "I love you, Anakin."

He let out a shaky breath, pressing kisses to your palm, your forehead, your lips. "I love you too. So fight, my rose. Fight to stay with me."

Through your tears, you managed a broken smile. "She’s going to be beautiful, isn’t she?"

Anakin nodded, tears still falling. "With your eyes. Your smile. She’ll be strong, just like her mother." He placed his hand over yours. "And she’ll know how much we both love her."

You closed your eyes, letting his words wrap around you like a lifeline, holding on to him with all you had left.

You stirred faintly in his arms, your head resting against his shoulder, your breath shallow but steady. He clung to that rhythm, drawing strength from the fragile proof that you were still with him.

“I’ll get you out of here,” he whispered, though his voice was hoarse with doubt. “You’ll be safe. I swear it.”

As he descended the slope of the castle’s outer wall, his heart clenched at the sight before him. His army was faltering. The banners of England, once proud and fierce, now hung in tatters. His soldiers were retreating, overwhelmed by the sheer force of the French army.

He wanted to go to them, to rally his men, to turn the tide of this battle. But he knew his priority. Her. The woman in his arms. The future she carried inside her. They were his only reason to keep fighting.

Suddenly, a distant shout echoed from behind, and he turned his head sharply. The enemy was approaching—closing in on them. His time was running out.

A hollow rock caught his eye, nestled within the broken side of the castle wall. Without a second thought, Anakin knelt beside it, carefully lowering you to the ground.

“What… what are you doing?” you murmured weakly, trying to lift your head.

“I need to do this,” Anakin replied, pulling out the leather-bound notebook he had carried with him through every battle, every campaign. It held his thoughts, strategy plans, his hopes, his fears—and most importantly, it held your story. The story of how he loved you beyond reason, beyond duty, beyond anything he had ever known.

With trembling hands, he tucked the notebook into the hollow rock, covering it with stones to shield it from the elements.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice faint.

“Because your story deserves to be told,” he said, his voice breaking. “If we don’t make it… if I fail you… someone will find it. They’ll know what we fought for. They’ll know who you are.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he turned back to you. “They’ll know how much I loved you.”

You reached for him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “We’ll make it,” you said softly, though your voice was filled with exhaustion. “We have to. For her.”

“For her,” Anakin echoed, his lips trembling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A distant horn sounded—the enemy was near. Anakin stood, gathering you back into his arms, his resolve hardening like steel.

“No one will ever take you from me,” he vowed. “Not while I breathe.”

With that, he turned toward the path ahead, carrying you into the darkness, the notebook hidden behind—a relic of love and war, waiting for someone, someday, to uncover the truth.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

Your eyes, like skies before the rain,

Hold joy, and sorrow, and sweet pain.

Your voice, a song the heavens keep,

A lullaby that stirs my sleep.

The battle raged on, but for Anakin, time slowed to a crawl. His every breath burned in his lungs as he carried you through the rubble-strewn corridors of the castle. The once-grand stone walls now stood as broken witnesses to the chaos. Your hand gripped weakly at his tunic, your fingers trembling. He could feel your strength waning, your life slipping away, and he clung to you with desperate resolve.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “Stay with me, my love. Just a little longer.”

As he stepped out into the courtyard, the harsh light of dawn broke through the smoke, illuminating the scene of devastation. Bodies littered the ground, men cried out in agony, and the banners of both England and France hung tattered in the wind. Anakin’s eyes scanned the field, searching for a way out — a path to salvation.

But instead, he saw him.

At the far end of the courtyard, your father emerged from the shadows, flanked by French soldiers. His armor gleamed, untouched by the battle, as though he had orchestrated the chaos from afar. His expression was cold, detached. And when his gaze met Anakin’s, there was no trace of remorse.

Anakin’s steps faltered as realization struck him like a blow to the chest. “You.”

Your father’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Did you really think this was about honor, boy? About alliances and loyalty? No.” His gaze flickered to you, limp in Anakin’s arms. “This was always about power. And she… she was nothing more than a means to an end.”

Anakin’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. “She’s your daughter.”

“She was supposed to be my son.” The words dripped with venom. “A son would have secured my legacy. A son would have brought glory to France. But instead, I was cursed with a daughter. A daughter who betrayed her country, her family, all for the love of an Englishman.”

You stirred weakly in Anakin’s arms, your voice barely a whisper. “Father… please…”

But your plea fell on deaf ears.

“I raised you to know your place,” your father sneered. “And yet you defied me. You chose love over duty. And now, look where it’s brought you. You’ll die here, just like the foolish child you’ve always been.”

Anakin gently lowered you to the ground, brushing your hair from your face. His hands trembled, not from fear but from the sheer force of the rage building inside him. His gaze lifted to your father, his blue eyes blazing with fury.

“You call yourself a man,” Anakin said, his voice low, dangerous. “But you’re nothing more than a coward.”

Your father laughed coldly. “Coward? I’ve played the game of kings and won. While you, Anakin Skywalker, are nothing but a pawn.”

Anakin rose to his feet, sword in hand. “Then let’s finish this.”

But as he stepped forward, your fingers caught his sleeve. “Anakin…”

He dropped to his knees beside you, cradling your face with both hands. His voice broke. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Your eyes, heavy with tears, searched his face. “I’m sorry… I won’t… I won’t be able to stay…”

“No,” he whispered fiercely, shaking his head. “Don’t say that. You’re going to be fine. You have to be. For me. For our daughter.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks. “Promise me… promise me she’ll know how much I loved her.”

Anakin pressed his forehead against yours, sobbing. “She’ll know. I’ll tell her every day. She’ll know you were brave, and kind, and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever known.”

Anakin’s hands pressed desperately against your wound, his fingers slick with blood. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat growing louder, more frantic, drowning out the battle cries and clashing swords around him. Your breath came in shallow gasps, each one weaker than the last.

“No… no… stay with me.” His voice was trembling, desperate. “You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.” He pressed his hands harder against the wound, as if he could force the life to stay in your body. “I’ve got you, my rose.”

Your eyelids fluttered, your gaze unfocused. “Anakin…”

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He cupped your cheek with his bloodstained hand, the contrast of red against your pale skin like a cruel reminder of how fragile life could be. “I’m right here. Look at me. Just keep your eyes on me.”

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak, but no words came. Tears welled in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, mingling with the blood.

“No, don’t cry,” he begged, brushing the tears away with shaking fingers. “You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. You’ve fought through everything life threw at you. Fight now. Fight for me.”

A soft, broken laugh escaped your lips, more a gasp than a sound. “You always… believed… in me…”

“Because you gave me something to believe in.” His voice cracked with emotion, his eyes wide and wild with panic. “You’re my light… my home… everything good in this godforsaken world. Without you, I—”

Your fingers brushed weakly against his lips, silencing him. “It’s… okay…”

“It’s not okay!” Anakin roared, his voice rising with anguish. The sound tore from his chest, echoing across the courtyard. Soldiers paused in their fight, turning to see the broken man kneeling in the blood-soaked dirt, clutching his love as if he could hold her soul inside her body.

“You’re not leaving me,” he growled, his voice trembling with rage and grief. “You can’t leave me.”

You smiled faintly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’ll… be okay…”

“I won’t,” he sobbed, shaking his head violently. “I won’t be okay. Not without you.” His voice was hoarse, each word ripped from the depths of his soul. “You’re everything to me. Do you hear me? Everything. There is no life for me without you.”

“Don’t…forget me...” Your hand fell from his face, limp. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breathing slowing to a faint whisper.

“No… no, no, no…” Anakin’s panic mounted, his chest heaving as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He shook you gently, then more forcefully. “Open your eyes. Look at me! Look at me!”

Nothing.

Time seemed to slow as he stared at your still face, waiting for a breath, a sign, anything. But there was only silence.

A guttural scream tore from Anakin’s throat—a sound of pure, unrelenting agony. It was a sound that echoed through the castle, a cry that shook the hearts of everyone who heard it. He threw his head back, his voice raw and broken, as if the world itself should crumble beneath the weight of his grief.

Anakin’s scream echoed through the battlefield, a tortured cry of grief and fury. “NO !” He clutched your lifeless body, rocking you in his arms as if he could will you back to life. “Come back to me! Please, God… bring her back ! Bring her back ! Take me instead ! Take me !”

The battle around him blurred into nothingness. His world had shattered, and all that remained was you, lifeless in his arms.

The enemy soldiers watched in uneasy silence, their weapons lowered. Even your father stood motionless, as though stunned by the raw grief before him.

But when Anakin’s cries turned to silence, something far more terrifying took their place.

Rage.

Slowly, Anakin laid you down, pressing one final kiss to your forehead. He rose to his feet, his sword clenched in his hand, and turned to face your father.

“This ends now.”

Your father sneered. “Do you really think you can defeat me?”

Anakin’s eyes, once full of love, now burned with vengeance. “I don’t think. I know.”

Anakin stood motionless, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. His sword trembled in his grip, the blood of Count Aulbry still dripping from its edge. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing could ever be enough to extinguish the rage that burned inside him like a wildfire.

Ahead, through the swirling chaos of battle and smoke, your father glanced at him with his sword drawn, stepping over the bodies of fallen soldiers with a callous indifference. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto Anakin’s like a predator eyeing wounded prey.

“So it comes to this,” your father said, his voice cutting through the din of war. “The great Anakin Skywalker. The traitor. The fool who let love make him weak.”

Anakin wiped blood from his brow, the sting of his wounds barely registering. His thoughts were consumed by one thing: revenge.

“You killed her,” Anakin growled, his voice low and venomous. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “You killed my wife.”

“Your wife was a pawn,” your father replied without remorse. “A piece in a grander game. One you’ve already lost.”

Anakin took a step forward, his eyes blazing with fury. “She was worth more than you’ll ever be. You don’t deserve to speak her name.”

Your father smirked, lifting his sword. “And yet here we are. Shall we finish this?”

Without another word, Anakin lunged, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Their blades clashed with a deafening clang, sparks flying as steel met steel.

The duel began with brutal intensity, each strike from Anakin fueled by rage and grief. His movements were swift and relentless, driving your father back with sheer force.

“You took everything from me,” Anakin snarled between strikes. “Her laughter, her touch, her love. You took it all.”

“And I would do it again,” your father sneered, parrying another blow. “Because love is nothing but a weakness. A man who fights for love fights blindly.”

Anakin’s sword cut through the air, nearly grazing your father’s side. His strikes grew more desperate, each swing a testament to his unyielding pain. But with every movement, his body betrayed him. His injury slowed him, his breaths growing ragged, his strength waning.

Still, he pressed on, refusing to falter.

Their swords locked, the two men staring each other down.

“You’ll never win,” Anakin hissed through gritted teeth.

“I already have,” your father replied coldly.

With a sudden surge of strength, Anakin shoved him back, breaking the lock. He swung again, and this time, his blade found its mark—a deep gash across your father’s arm.

Your father stumbled, blood staining his sleeve. For the first time, his composed mask slipped, revealing a flash of anger.

“You’re not invincible,” Anakin said, his voice a growl. “And you’ll never take her from me again.”

But before he could strike again, a shadow moved behind him.

Anakin’s instincts flared, and he turned just in time to see the king himself—King Edward—emerge from the shadows, his sword gleaming.

“Anakin!” one of his men shouted in warning, but it was too late.

The king, with a cruel grin, drove his sword into Anakin’s back. The blade pierced through flesh and muscle, twisting cruelly as Edward yanked it free.

Anakin gasped, stumbling forward, his sword falling from his grasp. He clutched at his wound, his fingers slick with blood.

“A king doesn’t fight fair,” Edward said with a chuckle, wiping his blade clean. “A king survives.”

Anakin fell to his knees, his vision blurring. The world around him spun, but he forced himself to stay upright, his rage keeping him conscious.

“You… coward,” Anakin spat, his voice shaking with pain.

“Coward?” Edward sneered. “No, Skywalker. I’m a king.”

Your father stepped forward, lifting his sword once more. “And you, Anakin, are nothing but a fool.”

Anakin struggled to rise, his hands shaking. Blood dripped from his wound, staining the earth beneath him. But he refused to fall.

“You’ll pay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but resolute. “Both of you. You’ll pay for what you’ve done.”

The king and your father exchanged a glance before turning back to Anakin.

“You’re finished,” Edward said coldly. “No one will remember you.”

But Anakin, even on his knees, glared at them with defiance burning in his eyes. “She will. Her spirit will haunt you both until your dying days. You may kill me, but her love will never die.”

With that, he gripped his sword once more, forcing himself to his feet, staggering but unbroken.

And as he stood, he whispered your name like a vow.

He looked at your corpse, laying on the ground. You looked so tiny in death, it infuriated him.

Anakin swayed on his feet, blood dripping from his wound, his breath ragged but unwavering. His eyes locked on King Edward and your father—the two men who had orchestrated his ruin. His heart thundered in his chest, the searing pain of his injury clawing at his consciousness, but rage kept him standing.

Edward sneered, stepping forward with his sword raised. "Still fighting, Skywalker? You’re a broken man. Admit defeat."

Anakin’s lips curled into a feral grin, blood staining his teeth. "I’ve been broken before, Edward. But broken men don’t kneel to cowards."

Your father circled behind Anakin like a vulture. "End him," he commanded Edward. "Show the world that traitors to the crown meet only one fate."

"After all… How can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his gods." Anakin panted, his stature frigid.

He turned on his heel, his sword slicing through the air. The movement was slower than before—his wound weakening him—but precise. The blade met your father's with a deafening clash. Sparks flew as they locked swords, both men glaring into each other's eyes.

"You took her from me," Anakin growled, pushing with all his strength. "And for that, you’ll suffer."

Edward lunged from the side, but Anakin spun, parrying the blow with a brutal force that sent Edward stumbling backward.

"You call yourself a king?" Anakin spat, stepping toward him. "A king who stabs men in the back? A king who sends his pawns to die in his name? You’re no king."

Edward’s face twisted with rage. "You think you’re righteous? You’ve betrayed England, and for what? A woman?"

Anakin’s eyes darkened. "She was England to me."

Edward charged again, but this time, Anakin was ready. He sidestepped the blow, driving his sword forward with a roar. The blade pierced Edward’s side, sliding deep into his ribs. The king let out a strangled gasp, his eyes wide with shock as he staggered back.

Blood poured from the wound as Edward fell to his knees, clutching at his side.

Anakin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting blood onto the ground before stepping closer to the king. His own strength was fading fast, but he held on to every ounce of his resolve.

Edward glared up at him, wheezing in pain. "You… you’ll never win."

Anakin knelt down, meeting the king’s gaze with a chilling calmness. His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of his fury.

"Death comes for us all, Edward. The crown won’t save you. Your throne won’t save you."

Edward coughed, blood trickling from his lips. "And you? What about you, Skywalker?"

Anakin smiled faintly, the pain etched into his face. "I’ve made my peace with death. The difference is—I don’t fear it."

He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper, but sharp as a blade.

"Because I loved. Truly. Deeply. And that love will haunt you for the rest of your days."

With that, Anakin let his sword fall from his hand, the weight of his exhaustion finally crashing down on him. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground.

Behind him, your father approached cautiously, his sword raised to finish the job. But Anakin didn’t flinch. His head tilted back toward the sky, his gaze distant.

His lips parted, and his final words came like a vow to the heavens.

"I’ll see her again."

And with that, he knelt on the bloodstained ground, his body trembling from his wounds, his spirit unbroken.

The silence after the battle was suffocating. Anakin knelt in the dirt, his blood mixing with the ash beneath him. Every breath was a struggle, every movement agony — but none of it mattered. He crawled toward you, dragging himself through the wreckage with shaking hands.

You lay crumpled ahead, still and lifeless.

“No,” he whispered, voice raw with disbelief. “No, no…”

When he reached you, he collapsed beside you, his trembling fingers brushing against your cheek. Your skin was cold to the touch. His heart clenched, his stomach twisting in knots. He cupped your face, cradling it as if his touch alone could bring you back.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please… open your eyes.”

Silence.

His chest heaved as tears spilled down his cheeks. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut, shaking violently.

“You’re supposed to be here,” he whispered. “With me. You promised…”

His hands slipped to your shoulders, shaking you gently, as if you were merely asleep.

“You promised me.”

But you didn’t move.

A strangled cry tore from his throat, guttural and raw, echoing through the shattered stone walls around him. His sobs came in broken gasps as he clung to you, his body wracked with pain and sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”

He buried his face in your hair, breathing you in — the scent of you, faint and fading, slipping from him like sand through his fingers. He clung tighter, his hands desperate to keep you tethered to this world.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered into the silence. His voice trembled, cracking under the weight of his grief. “I don’t want to.”

Moments passed in silence, broken only by his shuddering breaths. His hand slipped to your chest, pressing against your heart, willing it to beat again.

Nothing.

“I would’ve given everything,” he whispered. “Everything. Just to see you smile again.”

His gaze lifted to the sky, eyes glassy with tears. The stars, cold and distant, offered no comfort.

“You were my light,” he said softly. “And now I’m lost.”

He placed his hand on your belly — a gesture so gentle it seemed out of place in the ruined battlefield around him. His fingers trembled as he traced the curve of your form.

“I don’t know where to go from here.”

The weight of everything pressed down on him, crushing. He lowered himself slowly, laying his head against your chest, his ear pressed to where your heartbeat should’ve been.

“I’ll follow you,” he whispered, voice hollow. “Wherever you are… I’ll follow.”

The wind stirred, carrying the faint scent of smoke and blood. Anakin closed his eyes, his tears mingling with the dust on his face.

With those final words, Anakin’s body stilled, his breathing ceased. He died with you in his arms, his soul bound to yours in an unbreakable bond that not even death could sever.

All around him, the world continued — but for him, it ended there, in the ruins, with you in his arms. With his family.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

No bloom compares, no art comes near,

To match the beauty I hold dear.

And if all fades, if worlds should part,

You’ll still remain within my heart.

The battlefield had fallen silent, save for the distant cries of soldiers retreating into the aftermath of victory. Yet, amid the chaos and carnage, there was one moment that stood out, stark against the ruin of war. They dragged Anakin’s lifeless body from where it had crumpled in the dirt, his once unbreakable vow now shattered in the eyes of all who witnessed it.

“No one will ever take you from me,” he had sworn, his voice burning with a promise that seemed unshakeable, his words laced with an iron will. Those who had heard it believed in it, too, because it had been a vow as fierce as the man himself. A vow that was supposed to endure beyond life and death, beyond the ravages of time.

But now, they took him from the earth with the ease of a flickering flame snuffed out by a gust of wind. The promise that had once held the world at bay, that had echoed through his every battle and every kiss shared in secret, lay in ruins with him. His body — cold, unmoving, a silent testament to a love that had burned too fiercely to survive — was being dragged away like some forgotten relic of a broken past.

It was then that the truth struck like a cruel blow — that vow, that promise he had made, had no power now. There would be no more breath in his lungs to fight, no more strength to stand against the world that sought to tear you apart. The world had won.

His final words, his final vow, had been rendered meaningless in the face of the inevitable. For even the fiercest of men could not battle the hand of fate, nor the finality of death. His body, once so full of life and defiance, was now a trophy to be shown, a piece to be desecrated. And as it was pulled away, like the remnants of a forgotten dream, the truth became undeniable — he could no longer protect you. He could no longer keep his promise.

And for the first time, those who witnessed it saw that the great warrior, the man who had once conquered every challenge in his path, had been beaten by something far more powerful than any foe: the silence of death.

They took him, not with the force of a conqueror, but with the quiet certainty that came with every broken vow. Anakin Skywalker, the man who had promised to never let you go, had lost the fight, and with it, the promise itself.

And though he was gone, his vow — a vow now broken beyond repair — lingered in the wind, a ghost of the love he could not protect.

Anakin’s body, still warm with the echoes of battle, had been dragged through the streets, a symbol of defeat and shame. The once-proud warrior, the man who had stood tall and unyielding in the face of the world’s cruelty, now laid at the mercy of those who sought to break him — to break everything he had fought for.

The French soldiers, victorious and cruel, dragged Anakin’s lifeless form through the mud. They spat on him, jeering and mocking his memory. To them, he was nothing but a pawn, a traitor to their cause. They cut away his armor, leaving him exposed, vulnerable — no longer the man who had once commanded respect. His sword, the one that had carved through the enemy lines with unrelenting precision, was stolen, leaving nothing but the remnants of his life.

It was a cruel humiliation — one that twisted the knife deeper into the hearts of those who still remember him. But for the English, Anakin’s sacrifice was not forgotten. In the silence of their grief, men in shadows whispered his name, remembering him for what he was — a hero, a protector, a man who fought for love, for justice, and for those who could not fight for themselves. His sacrifice was honored, though it was not sung in loud praises, but kept in the quiet reverence of the heart.

Days pass. The battle rages on, and with it, the loss sinks deeper into the bones of those who loved him.

Then, as if by some fate unknown, Anakin’s body had been quietly taken. The hands that came to claim him were hidden in shadow, their identities a mystery. The French who had once paraded him in shame now looked away, as if afraid of the silent vigil that had come. His body was laid to rest, not in the grand tombs of kings or warriors, but in a quiet, forgotten place — a patch of earth where no one would found him, where his name would not be desecrated. His body was placed beside yours, as if even in death, you were meant to rest together. It is the only peace he will ever know — the only peace he will ever get to offer you.

But in the darkness, behind the veil of secrecy, the true hero of this story remained unseen — Obi-Wan Kenobi, the man who had once walked beside Anakin, the one who had shared his dreams and his burdens. The man everyone thought was dead… He stood over their graves, the weight of loss heavier than any battle he had fought. The world had turned against him, his hands tied by the restraints of his own weakness. He was powerless, unable to avenge his fallen friend, unable to exact the revenge he so desperately desired.

Instead, Obi-Wan bowed his head, the tears of a brother falling silently, a soft promise to the wind.

“I cannot undo this,” he whispered to the earth. “I cannot bring you back. But I will tell your story. I will carry it with me, and I will speak your name to every soul I meet. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten, Anakin. The world will know what you did, who you were. You may have fallen, but your spirit will endure.”

With that, Obi-Wan placed his hand on the earth, feeling the weight of both the world and the grave beneath him. It was a silent vow — one that bound him to Anakin’s memory for as long as he lived.

“England will remember.” he whispered again, as the winds stirred, carrying the promise of an everlasting legacy.

He buried a flat rock, where was engraved the words : "Here lies two lovers, who were taken too soon and loved each other even in their last moments. May they rest in paradise.. For they were each other's forever"

And so, Anakin’s story continued, passed on through those who remembered, those who carried his memory like a flame. And though the world may never see him as he truly was — a hero, a father, a warrior, a simple man with a simple love — there will always be those who knew.

700 years later, 1994

The crumbled stones of what once was a magnificent castle lay silent beneath the weight of centuries, a forgotten relic buried in time. The earth had swallowed the remains of battles fought, of lives lost, and of promises broken. Yet, there was always something left behind — a faint trace of the past, lingering in forgotten corners where history had been too eager to fade.

It was on one such dig that archaeologists uncovered a hidden chamber, deep beneath the ruins. Their tools chipped away at the stone, the echoes of their labor carrying through the air, until a small wooden chest was revealed, its edges worn by time but still intact. Inside, beneath layers of dust and age, they found it — Anakin’s notebook, worn but sturdy, its pages yellowed and brittle.

Carefully, the archaeologists opened it, handling the fragile relic as though it might shatter under their touch. The pages revealed a mixture of thoughts, calculations, and fragments of a life long gone. But amid the disjointed words, there were poems — beautifully penned lines filled with love and longing, written in a hand that had once been steady but now appeared frantic, desperate.

One of the first poem was like a breath of air that had been trapped in time:

My rose, my heart, my love, forever bound, Even the winds will carry your name. The stars above may flicker and fade, But your light will never wane.

Each page turned brought more. Some poems spoke of hope, others of loss, of battles fought not for glory, but for the protection of something deeper, something more personal. But never once did he mention your name, at least not clearly. Each word was a veiled reference, a symbol. My rose was all he called you, the single constant in a world turned upside down by war and betrayal.

As the archaeologists continued to read, they uncovered the depth of his devotion. His words were raw, full of anguish, a heart spilled onto the pages, bleeding with every line. They spoke of promises, of unfulfilled dreams, and of a love so fierce that it had become the driving force of his very existence.

In one entry, he wrote:

“No force, no battle, no enemy can take you from me. I will fight for you, even when the heavens fall. My rose, my heart, my eternal love — I would die a thousand deaths for you.”

Another poem was filled with grief, the ink almost smudged from the tear stains that had soaked the paper:

“You are lost to me, yet here I remain, My love for you never to wane. Though time may pass and we may part, You will forever be my heart.”

The archaeologists, unaware of the full significance of these words, marveled at the depth of emotion captured in the ancient notebook. But there was no name, no clear identity. They could only speculate — who had this man loved so fiercely? Who was the rose he spoke of, the woman who had stolen his heart and held it until the end of his days ?

And so, they named it “Lays of General Anakin Skywalker,” a title that would honor his memory and the story that had nearly slipped through the cracks of time.

Legends were slippery little things. For the glory that coated them hides the pain, suffering and death that spun them.

England remembered. England remembered the fallen who had fought on its land, the warriors whose sacrifices had shaped the future. Amid the pride of its triumphs and the sorrow of its losses, the name Anakin Skywalker would remain — not just as a general, not just as a soldier, but as a man whose heart beat with the deepest kind of love. The land, which had borne witness to his final breath, carried his legacy forward in its hills and valleys, in the whispers of the wind, and in the pages of the notebook that spoke of a love that would never be forgotten.

The castle itself, now little more than rubble, seemed to echo the same questions. The ruins offered no answers, only the quiet testament of a love lost to time. But the notebook, its pages fragile yet enduring, was a record of something eternal. Anakin’s love, untouched by the centuries, still lived on in ink and paper, reaching out from the past like a whisper from another world.

And though his name, too, was a shadow of history, his words would forever speak to those who cared to listen — a love that had survived wars, betrayals, and the passage of time. And through it all, the rose he spoke of remained an enigma, a ghost, the embodiment of a love that refused to die. 

Yes, England remembered.

The Legend of the Poet and the Rose

In a war-torn land, a poet loved a rose, Her name whispered in every verse he chose. He vowed to her, with sword and blood, To hold her close, through fire and flood. But time stole both, and England remembers their love, forever echoed above.

[mosoderbergh]

Chapter 3 of NSFW Emmrook, this time with an extra dose of hurt/comfort

So yeah, this one is set just after the fade prison. I had to (literally) interrupt the mindless smut for a healthy dose of tragedy.

Read the full fic here

Or Chapter 3 down below...

All that happens after they escape the fade prison, Rook could not have endured without Emmrich by their side. He makes sure they are unhurt. Makes sure they eat. He is calm in the face of the general panic. He is tethered to Rook - a hand on their shoulder to steady them where they stand, a knee resting against theirs when they sit next to each other, fingers intertwined under the table. And though Rook has no time to rest, no time to properly grieve, they draw strength from him. They catch him blinking away tears once, after they give a brief recount of their time away to the group. And they certainly notice the way the others treat Emmrich, all soft voices and encouraging smiles. At some point not quite a day after their return, they walk into the kitchen together and Taash casually greets Rook, then asks *Emmrich* if he’s doing ok.

“I’m fine, Taash, thank you”, he says, sounding ever so slightly indignant. Or embarrassed, maybe. Rook wishes they had the time to sit him down and talk things through.

Their moment comes not by a wave of fortune, but through Emmrich himself. No one protests when he takes them away to spend the night at the Necropolis. Least of all Rook. Even so, Rook can’t really bring themselves to have a hard conversation right then and there. They still feel raw, emotionally spent, and they have a suspicion Emmrich feels the same way. So they walk through the Memorial Gardens. Bask in the sweetness of the moment, the relief of their reunion.

“I am sorry, dearest”, Emmrich whispers in between two kisses. “I don’t remember if I said. I meant to.”

“I’m sorry too”, they say.

And it’s enough. Enough for the worry to fade from Emmrichs face, leaving only adoration and desire. All else can wait.

The sarcophagus is, perhaps, a touch morbid. But Rook isn’t easily shocked, and if Emmrich chose this place, it must be for a reason. In a strange way, Rook finds it romantic.

Emmrich kisses them deeply, reverently. Today, Rook doesn’t mind that he takes his time. They help each other out of layers of clothing, and for once, Emmrich lets his actions speak for him. Tracing each line of Rook’s body like he’s committing them to memory. Placing kisses on their hair, their forehead, their cheek, down their chest.

Rook clings to him in turn, drawing him in close, skin to skin. They stroke his back, whispering “I love you” into his ear over and over, as if they could wipe away all sorrow with their reassurances. They aren’t sure if they are trying to comfort him or themselves. They don’t even realise it’s the first time they ever say these words to him.

Emmrich’s lips return to theirs with fresh heat. They are both stark naked at this point, entangled with each other in the narrow confines of the coffin. Rook hooks a leg around his waist, so that his hardening cock is pressed against their clit. They moan into his mouth, running their fingers through his already messy hair-

Suddenly Emmrich breaks the kiss, his body curling in around them like something punched him in the groin. Rook is about to ask if they hurt him somehow when the sound from deep within his chest freezes their blood. Emmrich is crying.

“Oh.” They fumble for words. But once the dam is broken, they doubt Emmrich would even hear them. His entire body shakes with the force of his sobs. It seems he can barely draw breath. Rook can do nothing but wrap their arms around his shoulders for a proper hug. “Oh Maker, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. It’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.”

It takes a minute for Emmrich to be able to produce words.

“Forgive me”, he croaks then, his face buried in Rook’s hair, still weeping.

“Don’t apologise”, Rook says helplessly.

“I wanted… Tonight was supposed to be for you.”

“Emmrich, it’s ok.”

“I love you”, he says then, pulling back far enough so they can look into his reddened eyes. “Rook… You don’t know how I’ve suffered for the cowardice of not telling you sooner.”

“You didn’t have to”, Rook says. With all the things he did say, all the ways he treated them, they earnestly thought it was so heavily implied as to be already established. If they are honest, if somebody had asked them “Has Emmrich ever told you he loves you?”, they would probably have answered yes and meant it.

“I should have said it”, Emmrich says, insistent even though his voice is still shaky from crying. “I let my fears get the better of me. Fear and blasted pride. I wished for certainty. I thought it would be foolish to bare my heart only to end up alone once more.”

Rook would move mountains to comfort him. If only they knew the right words.

“I… honestly, if I told someone half the things you’ve whispered to me in the night, I’d easily consider that ‘baring my heart’”, they say, feeling very unhelpful indeed.

“Oh, don’t… don’t remind me of my failings there”, he says, suddenly heated.

“I… what?” Rook is so dumbfounded they forget to be gentle.

“I couldn’t bring myself to be honest with you about how I felt, and yet I allowed myself to push these things on you. To bring up the idea of having you carry my child, when I hadn’t even…”

“But you didn’t bring it up”, Rook points out. “I did. Twice.”

“You mentioned it, Rook. And I did nothing to stop myself. With no regard for your feelings.”

“My feelings are fine. We talked about this.”

“And I didn’t say nearly enough.” He cups Rook’s face with a long-fingered hand, his voice gentle. “Would you allow me to explain now?”

“If you want. Just… out of everything, I wouldn’t have thought *this* was something that bothered you so much.”

“Oh, but it is. There was much more to it than just a fantasy of... With you, at least. I’d been wondering, Rook, for quite some time, if… if I could allow myself to be hopeful. To believe that you would stay with me. Even after our adventure would be over. But then you were lost, and…”

“Emmrich…”

“Please. Let me… I thought you too young to trouble you with my need for... It had less to to with children, you must know that, and more with… Oh, my dearest heart. To make *you* my family. Tied together. Belonging together. Staying.”

His words fill Rook with a longing so deep it takes their breath away. It hits them just how close they came to losing an entire future. A life. It feels crushing all of a sudden. But they still have a weepy, beautiful man to deal with, and he still looks very nearly inconsolable. So they place a hand over his heart and take a deep breath, looking for the right words.

“You are safe with me”, they say, trying hard to put their entire heart into the words. “You are. Emmrich, if we survive this, as long as you’ll have me, I’m never…”

They can’t get the words out before they are crying themselves. They see Emmrich wiping away fresh tears before he pulls them into an embrace.

“I feel quite the same way, my love”, he says. His voice is steadier now, and they hear the beginnings of a smile. “I truly intended to be the one to care care of you tonight, you know.”

“Emmrich, love of my life, I think you’ll have to get used to the idea that this goes both ways”, Rook says, sniveling.

They both laugh. Or cry. Or a little bit of both.

There is more crying as the night goes on, and more than one grand declaration of love. There is even, at some point, sex, when simply being in each other’s arms doesn’t feel like enough anymore. Rook rides Emmrich as best they can while he holds them so close they can barely move.

They don’t say it that night, but as they drift to sleep on top of him, Rook can’t help but think that for the first time in their life, starting a family sounds pretty damn appealing.

It’s something to think about.

There’s just one more god to kill first.

[chaotic-mystery]

✨

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

There’s no way Jayce came out of the fucking Infection Dimension perfectly healthy except for his leg (and his mental health)

He had an open wound on his back before he even went in!! and then the one we saw on his leg! (which was broken in fucking half!!) like did y’all see how thick the fog was?? He was breathing that shit in for months!! That man was probably dying!!!

[solace-seekers]

screaming into the void <3

[polyamorouspunk]

Honestly I could use a pep talk. This week the positive/negative whiplash has been horrible

Grace my love you have been such a comforting presence in my and a lot of other people’s lives. I’m so, so sorry that things haven’t been going spectacular for you but as I’ve said to you, having someone who is going through a lot of the same things that I am makes me feel so much less alone. I really, really hope that we can find some consistency in it all. Today when I was driving home I was thinking of that cliche “if you could have any superpower what would it be” and I thought “I wish I could control my emotions”. And I thought… that’s not a superpower. That’s something “normal” people can do. But I feel like I can’t. But maybe more things are in my control than I realize. Sometimes I do think that I make excuses for myself. And that’s not to say that we as human beings can control everything in our lives. In fact, it’s what we CAN’T control that brings us stress. Like other people changing their minds about plans and shit 😅 but that’s what makes us dynamic. That’s what makes us human. So I guess, you know, I would be bored or whatever if everything was easy and my life is perfect. I mean, we all need a little drama, right? Like the harmless kind. Like when you go through the drive-through and they give you the wrong order. It’s humbling. It gives us something to complain about. Like, I didn’t fuck up badly to warrant an entire Netflix show about it. At least it’s not THAT bad yet. And I mean. We have all, everyone here, made it through the worse times of our lives already. And sure, there’s every chance the worst thing that’s ever going to happen to us hasn’t happened yet (especially those of us who haven’t reached 25 yet) but honestly as I look back I feel like everything that really sticks out as bad to me isn’t more or less worse than the thing before or after it. It’s just the most present, so it’s the one that hurts them most. I’m GLAD I’m not 16, 18, 20 anymore, even if I had things then I wish I had now and have pain now I didn’t have then. Sometimes the things I have to look forward to don’t feel like enough but what is the alternative? I just have to keep going. I can’t give up. We can’t give up. We have to keep fighting. I refuse to be the one that knocks me down.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

i have thought of 1 (one) pro to this whole housing situation and i’m clinging onto it for dear life

[heybaetae]

.

[whenthegoldrays]

Hmm

[drivemysoul]

as soon as i learn to style and make wigs i’ll be unstoppable

[flippedorbit]

how’s everyones morning going

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i don’t think i’ve really been present mentally at all today. i’ve started to think i just zone out of everything way more often than i realise because there are moments where i do zone in and actually get a bit distressed because suddenly i’m so present and am not used to it at all. but today has just been especially bad with my sibling being a bit sick because suddenly i feel like a lot of the work i’ve done to not be on guard all the time is just gonna be gone. today barely felt real though like i was just going through the motions and wasn’t even thinking anything because my brain just wasn’t present

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~