#also. “he wonders what if it feels like to touch her lips” I DIED WRITING THAT

[evanescentdawn]

it’s about the TENSION n the PINING. also I can’t believed I added the horne grip (jang shinyu version) in this fic.

Jang Shin-Yu reaches his hand to the screen as if he is about to go through the screen and wipe it away himself. He forgets he can’t. He wonders what it feels like to touch her lips. 

“Did I get it?” Lee Hong-Jo asks him, leaning her face into the camera.  

She angles the camera to her lips specially, zooming in. Jang Shin-Yu can see the curve of her cupid’s bow perfectly; the fullness and pink of her lips. 

He grips his thigh. 

[athenamikaelson]

hii i was wondering if you could do a imagine where the reader is klaus daughter and she is a tribrid like hope and her boyfriend died or something like that (you can change it idc) and she turns her humanity off and she is all badass and he tries to turn it back on also i love your blog

Klaus Mikaelson x Daughter!Reader

Summary- Reader is Klaus’ daughter and also a tribrid, her boyfriend gets killed which results in her flipping the switch. Klaus is there to get her to turn her humanity back on. Also, I didn’t know whether to add Hayley as her biological mother so I’m going to leave that up to you guys and just write the character as someone who had a mother-daughter LIKE relationship. Hayley is also still dead, RIP Queen. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- Thank you for the request! And thank you for the compliment!!! <3

Warnings- Blood, Reader has no filter and no cares, mentions of death and killing, body parts, alcohol, swearing, Klaus and the reader have unresolved issues, Reader digs on Hope. (I love you Hope, no one can make me hate you.)

Blood drips down my lips as I throw the body of some rando onto the floor of the dusty-ass bar I’m in. I bring my hand up, wiping the stray crimson liquid off my chin, and bring it back to my lips. I sigh escapes my lips at the taste. Feeling a moment of euphoria; well technically as much euphoria as someone with no emotions can experience.  

I catch the sound of the bar door opening from behind me and turn prepared to kill whomever decides to walk in. Unfortunately, the biggest earsore decided to grace my presence. If I could feel annoyance at this moment, I would. I let out a sigh of annoyance as I stared at my father. He stands at the entrance of the bar and casts a glance at the piles of bar patrons, or more truly the bar patrons' body parts, that are scattered across the floor. 

“Well, it appears you’ve been busy.” He says with a smirk and slight tilt of his head. He kneels and picks up the head of a man by his hair and glances at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’ve been hanging out with your Uncle too much appears,” he says as he tosses the head back down as if it’s trash. 

I just raise a shoulder as I walk behind the bar and pour myself a glass of bourbon. 

“Says the man with the nickname, Klaus the Mad.” I shoot back as I down the brown liquor. 

“Touche, Little Moon. I do have to say your,” My father pauses as he glances at the bodies around the bar, “habits, definitely come from my side of the family.” He appears to smirk in fatherly approval and then quickly covers it up with a shake of his head. 

“Your Uncle Elijah wouldn’t approve of this you know?” He says as he reaches for the bourbon bottle. I watch as he pours himself a drink but before he can grab the glass I speed to grab it. I stare at him as I down the drink and then give him a thoughtful look, “Well why doesn’t he tell me that himself?” My father’s smirk drops and we stare at each other for a moment before I lean back onto the counter and raise my hand in a matter-of-fact movement, “Oh, right. He can’t. Because he’s like dead.” My father just rolls his eyes.

“You done?” He asks me with a look of disapproval only a father could master. I stare at him for a moment, tapping my chin and pretending to be in deep thought.

“Well I mean there’s like countless other dead relatives I could bring up,” I bring my right hand up and start counting on my fingers, “Josh, Hayley, Cami, Jackson.” I ponder some more thinking of all the other people that have died because of my family. 

“Your boyfriend. Don’t forget to add him to the list.” I freeze for a split second as I hear my father’s words. I look at him and he’s staring at me with a knowing look. It takes me only another fraction of a second before I let out a laugh. 

“I’m not turning it back on,” I tell him as I cross my arms and lean back against the counter. He stares back at me and taps his chin in the same way I had done moments before. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, turn what back on, Little Moon?” He says with a tone that makes me want to stick a white oak stake into his heart. 

“Let me guess, Hope calls you crying to Daddy that her sister is going off the rails and hurting and killing people and needs to be stopped. Even though like a month ago she was going around telling everyone, “I’m the big scary tribrid I can’t be killed” and then goes and kills our friends?” I say in a matter-of-fact tone at my sister’s hypocrisy. 

My father lets out a sigh as he goes to walk behind the bar next to me, he comes to stand next to me and I subconsciously take a step away resulting in my father stopping and staring at me. 

“Y/N, Hope regrets everything she did and only wants you to know that turning your switch off is only a temporary fix.” I pretend to put a small smile on myself before dropping it and laughing in my father’s face.

“God Dad, you’d do a killing at a TED talk, maybe next you can tell a group of teenagers with anxiety to just “chill out”  and that it’s all in their heads. Also, why the fuck did Hope get you to do her dirty work, why can't the big bad tribrid come and face me herself?” 

“OK first, I have no idea what the bloody hell a TED talk is. And second, your sister called me worried and we both thought it would be a better decision that I come and talk to you. We both know that you have the emotional capacity of a Mikaelson. Just like your father.” He says with a small smile on his face. 

“I remember once when you were 11 Kol told you that he wouldn’t teach you a certain spell because he said it was too advanced for you at that age. In retaliation, you went behind his back, stole the spell, and tried your hardest to do it. But as much as I hate to give your Uncle Kol any praise and I deny this if you ever tell him, Kol knows too much about spells and witch stuff so he was right about the spell being for a higher age level.”

I stand there remembering the exact story he’s retelling. 

“No, it wasn’t.” I deny. He stares at me and raises his eyebrow.

“You caught your hair on fire, all of it burned off and Hayley had to buy you a wig. The wig was also an atrocious purple color.” 

I just stare at him for a second and then nod remembering that the purple wig really was a horrible decision. For a split moment, I felt a light feeling in my chest at the memory but as quickly as I felt it I pushed it away. 

“Let that feeling in, Little Moon,” he tells me as he reaches his hand out to touch my arm, but in a split moment, I grab his arm and push it back to a breaking point and push him away speeding to the edge of the room away from him. 

“Don’t even try it, Dad, giving me a funny childhood story isn’t going to make me instantly turn it back on. One funny story doesn’t amount to all the other shit that went on,” I look at him in anger, “Do you remember why Hayley had to be the one to buy me the wig and not you?” My father’s face falls and goes to say something but I stop him. 

“Hayley had to do it because you weren’t there. You. Weren’t. There. You had to hear this story from Hayley’s letters to you. Letters you never responded to. Just like the phone calls you never responded to me. Waiting by the phone every birthday, waiting for my father to call me, or watching the other girls go to the Daddy daughter dances while my father is across the world killing innocent people. So don’t for a second try to doting father act. I have every right to want a break for one second in my fucking life. Y/B/N dying was just the cherry on top of the fucked up ice cream that is my life.” I finish yelling at him as he stares at me with noticeable regret and heartbreak in his eyes. I watch as he picks up his hand and goes to reach out to me but drops it once I flash my tribrid eyes at him in warning. 

“I know I wasn’t there for most of your childhood and I will always regret that,” My dad looks down at his hands and for the first time in my life I see the most feared man in the world look as little and humane as a mortal man, “but I’m here now Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere. You can flash your eyes at me, bite, and yell at me, even threaten me but I’m not going anywhere. I’ve lived a long time and have seen many people go through what you’re going through Little Moon. And I know you’re hurting and I know I’ve left you before and I will spend forever making up for that. And right now you need your family and, I’ll follow and annoy you until you’re ready to flip that switch. Always and forever, My Little Moon.”

When my father is done with his monologue I place another solemn look on my face and walk over to him and give him a small smile. My father seems to lighten up at my approach and goes to meet me but as he comes to pull me into a hug I speed behind him and snap his neck dropping his dead body onto the ground. His body blends with all the other dead people that are already scattered around the bar. 

“You can take your Always and Forever and shove it down your throat,” I say to his dead body as I walk out of the bar.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (55) (End)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, giving birth, breastfeeding kink, mention of trauma, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

I am touched, this is my longest story, my beloved child, my beloved couple. This story of mine was probably the most successful and brought me a lot of joy, your involvement made me want to keep writing. I feel like I'm ending at the right moment, just as I wanted, and I hope you won't be disappointed. I remind those in despair that I still have stories from The Impossible Choice AU to write. I also recommend reading Brother, Lover, Son and The Pearl and The Sapphire, because these are also stories from this universe. Thank you all for such a wonderful response!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She wasn't sure she'd ever been as horrified in her life as she was when she realised her husband had lied to her – after he left the wedding feast, as she waited for him in his chamber, she finally asked the guards standing at her door if they knew where he was.

They looked at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.

She understood that her husband had hidden something from her, that he had planned something and left her.

Her head was buzzing with his words that he had said her before he left, she could see his gaze, his lower lip trembling.

You know that I love you.

Only then did she realise it was a kind of farewell.

A farewell in case he didn't come back.

She felt as she had that night when his army had set out with her father to the Eyrie, only for her to suffer such a painful loss.

She began to cry loudly, terrified, unable to calm herself, her child in her womb moving restlessly, sensing her condition. She was unable to fall asleep, but she was also too tired to think logically in the morning so she persisted in lethargy, breathing hard, recoiling at every louder sound, hoping it was him.

Finally the door opened and he stood there, his white hair, his face, his hands, his armour all in blood.

She covered her face with her hands trying not to scream, horrified at the thought that it could have been his own blood, that he was wounded, and just stared at him with big eyes, unable to get a word out.

There was a kind of emptiness and weariness in his gaze.

He approached her slowly and the door closed quietly behind him. He knelt in front of her with a loud clatter of his steel armour and embraced her gently, cuddling his cheek against her abdomen.

"It's done." He whispered in a hoarse, low voice while looking somewhere in the distance, and she felt a constriction in her stomach mixed with relief and horror.

It's done.

Her lip trembled as an involuntary question escaped her lips.

"Are they dead?"

Her husband swallowed hard and clenched his eyes as her hands stroked his hair.

He seeked comfort in her arms, consolation, an escape from what he had done, what he would have to face every day from now on.

"Yes."

She didn't ask him anything else.

She didn't ask him how they died, who killed them, if they suffered much.

She didn't want to know that.

She didn't want to think about it.

"You must take a bath, my love." She whispered, kissing the top of his head. He sighed quietly, as if relieved, as if afraid that the scale of his act, the enormity of the sin he had brought with him would make her push him away.

She knew he needed her like never before.

She did not let him out of her arms, letting him snuggle into her womb as she called their servants and ordered them to prepare a tub of hot water. As they did so she combed her fingers through his hair, whispering to him that he was brave, that there was no other way, that he had protected her and their child, his family, that he had to do this.

She told him everything he needed to hear to keep him from going mad with despair.

She felt his tears on the skin of her arms, felt that his body was shaking, that the realisation of what he had done was slowly reaching his mind along with the adrenaline and overwhelm leaving his body.

"– Joffrey –" He muttered and pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold back the feeling that was building up inside him, and then he burst out sobbing.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought of that little boy, at the thought that both he and she knew he was a child who had nothing to do with these events, was no different from Jaehaerys.

"− shhh − I know − I know − I know, my beloved − I am with you −" She whispered and leaned towards him so as to enclose him in the embrace of her body, his head pressed from the side to her abdomen and from the top to her breasts, her hands stroking his neck and wet cheeks, her lips kissing his hair.

Slowly he began to calm down, ashamed of his weakness and what he had shown her. As he stepped into the tub of hot water at last he let out a loud gasp of air, as if he didn't believe he was back.

That he was alive.

Just as she had done before, just as she had done then, at the beginning of their marriage, she began by washing his head, the blood from his hair and body staining the water red. She felt him lift his hand back and run his fingertips over her arm, as if he needed to feel the touch of her body, needed to be physically reassured that she was with him, that he was not alone.

She knew he was scared, that what he had done was crushing him and that she needed to be there for him.

She tried not to think about it, to push the doubt and remorse away, knowing that she had to be his pillar, his strength, that he could not see hesitation in her. He needed to feel that he had made the right choice, that she did not despise him, that nothing had changed.

After his bath, she helped him get dressed in clean clothes. Even though it was morning and they should be eating their morning meal, she led him to their bed holding his hand, and lay down with him.

"Try to sleep, my dearest. I will be with you all the time." She said softly.

He hummed under his breath and nodded, laying down beside her, cuddling his face between her breasts. She placed her chin in his hair, embracing him tightly, stroking him, and began to quietly sing him the lullaby her mother used to hum to her when she was a child.

She felt his tense body slowly relax, felt him cry again, and then after a time that lasted an eternity for her he finally fell into a restless sleep.

Word of Aegon's severe burns reached her quickly and she decided to visit him with her husband, knowing better than anyone else what he was going through. As they walked into his chamber Helaena was watching over him, rising from his bed and smiling at them.

Aegon's face was almost entirely covered in bandages and she felt an involuntary tightening in her heart at the sight.

Despite what he had done, she felt sorry for him.

"How are you feeling, brother?" She asked softly and he glanced at her, warmth in his gaze by the way she called him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Not only am I disgusting on the inside, now I'm disgusting on the outside." He laughed, but no one responded to his words. They spoke with each other for a while, and then Aegon surprised her with his words.

"I would like to speak with my brother."

She and Helaena left his chamber and moved ahead with a slow step – now that she knew it was over, that nothing threatened them anymore, she suddenly felt a gigantic relief, as if she realised that she was safe, that she could calm down at last. She looked at her companion.

"Is he good for you now?" She asked. Helaena looked at her with dreamy eyes.

"Yes. Yes, a lot has changed in him. I regret that it is only now, but… well, I am glad that after the death of our son, me and my daughter find comfort in his arms." She said quietly, looking around, distracted, immersed in her own thoughts. She involuntarily smiled at her words.

"I'm really glad."

She decided not to return to her husband's chamber, but to visit Royce and his new wife. She reasoned that since the danger had passed, she no longer needed to fear anything and lock herself in his quarters like a prison.

She stood outside her brother's chambers and asked the guard to announce her. The man went inside, and after a moment came out and said that Lord and Lady Baratheon would welcome her.

She went inside with a smile, stroking her swollen abdomen contentedly – Royce stood up, extending his hands to her, and they threw themselves into each other's arms, embracing each other tightly.

"I've heard about what they have done. Gods, why didn't they tell me anything?" He asked, glancing at her, and she sighed heavily.

"I suspect it was all about the surprise effect. My Lady. My congratulations on your nuptials." She said softly and nodded at the young woman who stood up from the table, her dark hair braided, a grey-blue long, simple gown with wide sleeves on her body.

She wore no jewellery.

Even so, she must have found the expression on her face pleasing, her mouth was full as was her shapes.

"Thank you, my Lady." She answered her and also nodded. She glanced at her husband, moving towards the entrance.

"I'll leave you alone. Husband." She said lowly and calmly, nodding at him, embarrassment and something she couldn't decipher ran across Royce's face. When she left, they both sat down at the table, Royce grunting away while combing his hair quickly with his hand.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling well." She said, looking at him intently, unsure if he was happy or not.

"Oh, I feel well." He said quickly, pouring himself a cup of wine and grunting loudly. She blinked, looking at him intensely.

"Are you content?" She asked finally. He lifted his gaze to her and pressed his lower lip tight. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"I…I've had close-ups with various women, but she…gods, I don't even know how to put it, I've never experienced anything like this. She's very experienced, I can only tell you that much." He mumbled and she saw with surprise and amusement that he was all red – he had trouble looking into her face, clearly overwhelmed by the memories of his last night.

"So… you're content." She finished at last. He pressed his lips together and grunted again.

"I…yes, I think so."

When she returned to her husband's chamber he was already waiting for her, sitting in a chair right by the fire, his eye piercing her, focused and anxious.

"Where have you been?" He asked coolly. She sighed quietly, approaching him slowly – her abdomen was still swelling, and she was getting tired of walking more and more quickly, but sitting wasn't any more comfortable for her.

"I visited my brother. He is pleased with his new wife." She said softly and touched his hand with her fingers. "I thought that since my husband has ensured that the danger has passed, I could visit him."

He looked at her watchfully, and after a moment he hummed under his breath, nodding, accepting her words and explanation. His gaze fled to the fire again, her hand on his skin.

"What did your brother want?"

Her husband was silent for a long time, his whole body as tense as a string. He swallowed loudly, running his fingers over his chin.

"He said he wants to relinquish the throne to me." He said lowly, and she looked at him in shock, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad. "That as he is now, he cannot rule the kingdom or represent it physically."

There was a silence between them full of tension – his gaze finally lifted to her, wanting to see her reaction.

"Did you agree?" She asked quietly.

She had the feeling that his gaze was piercing her deeply, that he knew her enough to be aware of her every doubt, her every thought.

His silence seemed to last her an eternity.

"No."

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth, looking at him in disbelief.

She felt a sense of relief.

"Why?" She asked in shock. He murmured under his breath, stretching out his hand on the armrest, straightening and clenching his fingers as he always did when he was thinking hard about something.

"Because I promised the gods that if they spared you I would give up my hopes for the crown. They kept you alive then, in Harrenhal, and they kept you alive in the Red Keep. I have grown to think that the gods do not want me to be king. My current role suits me. As the Hand of the King and Prince Regent, I will rule in his name until his condition improves. I told him I want something else in return." He said, entwining their fingers together, stroking her soft, warm skin with his thumb.

She felt heat in her heart at his words, at the thought that he still remembered that vow, that he truly believed that through his sacrifice the gods were watching over her.

"And what do you want?" She asked softly, and he lifted his gaze to her, a disturbing glint in his eye.

"Dragonstone."

When they finally moved to Dragonstone she walked with difficulty, the heat was unbearable for her and she demanded a cool bath as soon as they reached the place. Before their arrival, her husband had the chamber in the underground where Luke was last seen completely cleaned and sealed.

When she finally sank into the icy water she breathed a loud sigh of relief, her husband strolling through their chamber with evident satisfaction.

She knew that he had at last won a coveted inheritance, something to pass on to his descendants that was his, that he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

When he looked at her at last she smiled at him.

He hummed under his breath and approached her unhurriedly with his hands folded behind his back, gazing intently at the indistinct outline of her body that he could see beneath the sheet of water.

He knelt by the tub and took her hand in his, pressing it to his lips. He stroked her wet skin with his thumb and let the air out quietly through his nose.

"Just a few more weeks." He whispered, and she nodded.

She saw him press his lips together, looking at her – she knew what he was thinking about, she knew what he feared.

He was afraid that she would die.

That she had not been taken from him by fire or by an assassin, but would be ripped from him by her labour, just as it had taken wives from husbands for hundreds of years, just as it had taken Aemma from his father.

She stroked his face, seeing his worry and tension.

"Be of good cheer, my beloved." She whispered tenderly and he nodded, kissing her hand again.

She did not want to be alone at such a difficult time and asked that Cassandra come to Dragonstone to keep her company. Helaena and Alicent had also announced their passage, so that she was not as afraid.

She felt her first intense contractions at the table when they were eating supper together, as they did every day.

Her husband was telling her about a new book he had read and she listened contentedly until a wave of pain went through her body. She dropped her cup and rose suddenly, catching her stomach, her husband froze in mid-motion.

"What's happening?" He asked terrified, unable to move for a moment.

"I think it's starting." She muttered, and then felt something warm run down her thighs.

She began to cry in his arms as he carried her to their chamber, for Cassandra, Helaena and Alicent were only due to arrive in two days. True, the midwives and maids were by her side, but it wasn't the same.

"I don't want to be alone." She whined quietly and he looked at her despairingly, laying her down on the bed, the women around her began to untie her gown to help her.

"…do you want me to stay with you?" He asked uncertainly, and she swallowed with difficulty and wept loudly, feeling another powerful spasm.

He turned his face away, unable to look at her suffering, not knowing how to behave, not having any knowledge of these women's affairs that always took place behind closed doors.

"Get out." She said finally, grabbing her stomach – she felt him throw her a shocked, uncertain look. "Get out, I don't want you to look at this."

She exhaled, not wanting him to be disgusted with her, so that later, thinking of her, all he could see was that sight, the sight of a ripped flesh full of sweat, blood and bodily fluids.

He, however, did not move from his place, his hands clenched into fists, horror in his gaze.

He didn't know what to do.

She didn't have the strength to think about it, hot sweat was running down her whole body, she felt like she was on fire. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally left in just her nightgown, one of the servants put a pillow under her back and another applied a cold compress to her forehead.

The midwife sat down in front of her, parting her legs with her hands, peering between her thighs.

"When I tell you, my Lady, you will begin to push. Do you understand?" She asked softly.

She imagined with tears in her eyes that this strange woman was her mother, and that the servant rubbing her forehead was her sister, and nodded quickly.

Without even looking at him, she knew that her husband was still standing by their bed.

She felt relief and horror, gratitude and rage at the same time.

The pain and contractions began to become more intense and followed each other faster and faster, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body in readiness for the tremendous effort that awaited her.

She wondered if she would survive it.

"Push, my Lady!" The woman called out, and she clenched her eyes shut and, with a loud whine of effort, tried to force her child out of herself. She felt something move inside her and she threw her head back, panting heavily, hot tears running down her cheeks.

"Very well. Breathe, my Lady, deep, full breaths." The woman spoke to her, and she nodded, trying to focus only on her breathing, on the way the air flowed through her chest.

"Push!" She called out again, and she clenched her hands on the bedclothes around her and cried out loudly, feeling the searing pain, her baby's head trying to squeeze through her tight walls.

She fell backwards panting all over, heard a sudden movement beside her, her husband's hand tightened on hers, his gesture of support and terror, his gesture of closeness, his sign that he was there for her.

"Yes, just like that. And again. Push!"

It felt like it went on forever – she was one big sweaty, weeping mess.

She clenched her fingers on his hand so tightly that she felt like she was going to break his fingers, her heart pounding like crazy.

"I can already see the head, my Lady! Just a little more! Push!" She squeezed her eyes shut and a whined in effort and pain as she made her body to force her offspring out.

Suddenly she felt something flow out of her, a lightness and relief filled her, the midwife caught something red in her arms.

"There he is, my Lady, look what a beautiful baby boy!" She said, wrapping the small creature all smeared with blood in a clean white cloth, wiping him slowly. She laughed with joy and relief as she looked at her child's face.

Her son had dark Baratheon hair.

She turned her head towards her husband, wanting to see his reaction, his joy at the sight of their child, but she saw that he was crying without even looking in that direction, his wet cheek pressed against her hand, his fingers clenched on her skin trembling all over.

She felt her heart squeeze at the thought that he was rejoicing that she had been alive.

When their first shock had passed, when she had been changed into a clean nightgown and the bedclothes had been changed, when she had lain back in bed, her son had at last been given to her. He already had his first bath, wrapped in a warm, bright blanket, his tiny arms and legs squirming vigorously when he felt her proximity, as if he recognised her immediately.

She felt a bond, a love, a tenderness, looking at his little chubby pink face, his scent wonderful and addictive.

She looked up contentedly and saw her husband's proud look, an almost invisible smirk on his face. He stood over her with his arms folded behind his back, preferring not to touch such a small creature for the time being, watching his interaction with his mother.

They had agreed that if a girl was born she would name her, and if a boy was born, he would name him.

She knew exactly what name he had chosen, but she asked him anyway.

"Daeron."

It was only at night, when they were finally alone, that her husband lay down beside them in just his shirt, looking intently at the little being sleeping in her arms. She cradled him looking at him with tenderness, thinking that he was the most beautiful child she had ever seen in her life.

"He has your eyes." She whispered and he hummed with contentment at her words as he carefully put his arm around them, pressing his temple against her forehead. She felt him place a kiss on her cheek and on her jaw, felt him inhale her scent.

"You were so brave, sweet wife. I have never been more proud of you." He whispered tenderly, and she felt the heat spread through her heart. She looked up at him, brushing the tip of her nose against his and they kissed, warmly, softly, their lips moist and swollen.

They spent the next few weeks getting used to the changes in their lives – her wounds healed slowly and after only a few days she was able to get up, much to the displeasure of her husband, who wanted her to avoid straining herself.

The cold stone walls of Dragonstone suddenly became cosier when the baby's babbling filled them, their son was loud and constantly laughing, overjoyed at their constant presence.

Her husband didn't want to be like his father, and though he was afraid to pick Daeron up, he often looked in on him just to touch him, to make sure he was safe.

She saw him watching out of the corner of his eye as she fed their son, finding it a very intimate and private sight, his wife holding his heir at her breast, giving him life, tending to his legacy.

She knew he craved her, saw the way he gazed greedily at her breasts, but dared not demand anything of her after seeing their son tear her flesh.

However, when her wounds had healed and she was no longer in discomfort, when she told him he could touch her, he threw himself at her like mad, his tongue deep in her throat, his hands ripping her nightgown from her body.

They were both panting loudly, kissing each other greedily with a sticky, wet click as she felt him grab her hips and settle her on top of him, quickly untying his breeches – they didn't have time to be embarrassed by how much they needed it, that they just wanted to fuck.

"If I don't fill you soon I'll die, sweet wife." He gasped affectionately, his voice trembling with desire – she kissed him again, clamping her hand in his hair, the other guiding the swollen head of his erection to her puffy slit entrance, slowly lowering herself onto him.

They both moaned piteously loudly, his hips beginning to impale her on his manhood again and again, filling her with himself, shivers of pleasure and heat passing through her.

She pressed her forehead against his, rising and falling against onto him, their bodies slapping against each other hard and fast, the lewd clicks of their shared moisture echoing through their chamber.

"− can I taste you? − " He whispered so quietly that for a moment she wasn't sure she heard it – his hand involuntarily cupped her full breast filled to the brim with milk. She mewled in pleasure as she felt him begin to play with her nipple in his mouth.

"− yes −" She exhaled and moaned loudly, aroused by this perverse act, his lips clamped tightly around her nipple began to suckle, she heard the loud sound of him swallowing.

She clenched her hand in his hair pressing his face closer to her, feeling her walls begin to throb against his length that he pushed into her body with each of his deep thrusts.

She was embarrassed by how surprisingly pleasurable it was.

"− oh, Aemond − yes −" She mewled as she struggled to fall and rise on top of him, their bodies slapping against each other with each violent slam of their flesh, his lips pulled away from her nipple with a loud plop, he licked his lips as he looked at her with a misty gaze.

"− so fucking delicious −" He breathed out and she whimpered softly, feeling his words between her thighs, not having the opportunity to answer him, his lips pressed against her other breast, repeating everything from the beginning, her nails tightened and ran over his naked back, she heard his loud purr of pleasure between the loud sounds of swallowed milk.

"− Aemond − it feels so good − oh gods −" She cried out loudly and tilted her head back, coming harder than ever in her life. He moaned low into her breast without releasing i from his mouth – she felt his hot spend spill inside her a moment later.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced such an intense, long orgasm before.

He finally released her breast from his mouth, pressing his face to her chest, panting along with her. She stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head, purring with delight as she felt his manhood pulsing inside her in fulfilment.

"− will you let me do it again? −" He asked in a trembling voice full of embarrassment and guilt, as if he had done something lewd and unthinkable, as if he feared she would now be ashamed of him. She kissed his hair at his question.

"− yes −"

From then on, his perfect place in the world was to be deep inside her with his mouth pressed against her breast. They both knew that there was something even more intimate than usual about this act, some kind of taboo, unmistakable intimacy that could not be replaced by anything else.

She tried not to burst out laughing when one day during their morning meal he asked her, feigning indifference, when she would lose the milk in her breasts, and she answered him that her body would continue to produce it as long as she breastfed.

She then saw the shock and the glint in his eye, he bit his lower lip involuntarily, unable to hide his expression of delight at this information.

They were closer together than ever.

The birth of their son reassured the entire kingdom, for in the situation in which Helaena did not bear Aegon another son, there was a young heir to the throne alive who would take over after his father.

When she spoke to her husband it seemed to her that he was made to be the Hand of the King, his advice always cool and recalcitrant. To her surprise, Aegon finally learned to use them and became a better king than she would ever have expected.

Daeron was a calm, joyful infant. He soon began to chatter, making his own unspecified sounds and syllables, bringing joy and laughter into their fortress. Her husband read to him a lot, and he stood in his little wooden bed with railings and hopped softly on his feet, delighted.

He adored him.

She had to keep repeating it to him because he didn't believe it, but his son was drawn to him, forever longing for him – he would reach out his chubby hands greedily to him whenever he saw him return from the Red Keep.

Although outwardly he was stern and cold towards the servants and guards, when he locked himself with them in their chamber he changed into a different person.

He would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, say he heard Joffrey crying from the underground and frighten her, breathing hard. She tried not to show it, hugging and stroking him until he fell asleep again.

She knew that these events would never stop haunting him.

When morning set in, the first thing after checking with a touch of his hand that she was lying next to him was to see if Daeron was asleep in his bed. He would sometimes get up in the night to check that he was breathing and, reassured, would only return to further sleep, embracing her from behind and snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck.

She was overwhelmed with happiness when her brother sent her a letter from Storm's End informing her that his wife was expecting a child.

From what she understood their marriage had been quite successful and peaceful, her character proving far more calm and composed than her brother had originally assumed. She renewed herself in Storm's End, happy to still be close to the sea.

As the time approached for her to give birth, she asked her husband to fulfil his promise that he had made to her when they were in Harrenhal and for them to travel to Storm's End.

Travelling on a dragon's back with a small child seemed too dangerous for them, so they set off in a carriage, patiently enduring the hardships and length of the journey.

When they arrived she felt a strange tightness in her throat as she watched the round throne room where her father had always sat, and now her brother sat in his place.

He stood up happy to see her, kissed her cheek and stroked the head of her son whom she held in her arms – Daeron giggled happily and began to squirm again, bursting with energy.

"I see my nephew is growing fast. How these children are changing! He was such a little baby not so long ago." He said gushing with enthusiasm, clearly delighted at the prospect of becoming a father himself. She smiled broadly at his words, glad to see him, glad to be home.

Royce looked at her husband, who was standing behind her, and nodded. Her husband reciprocated the gesture, but they did not say a word to each other.

She felt memories hit her from every direction and she was moved. She had insisted that they sleep in her old chamber during their stay even though it was small, her husband agreed without a word.

When they went inside their belongings and their son's cot were already standing. He had only been there once, on the night he returned from Winterfell and left abruptly after their argument, so he had no time to look at anything closely.

He looked through her books curiously, looked out of her windows, looked around, and she thought fondly that he had tried to imagine her life before she met him.

Before he had chosen her.

"Would you like to see my mother's crypt?" She asked softly. He looked at her and nodded.

They descended into the underworld with the torch he held in his hand. Although the web of corridors beneath the fortress was complicated, she knew this path by heart, having often gone down there as a child, asking her mother for advice from the heavens.

After a short walk among the stone statues, they arrived in front of the one she remembered so well. She felt a squezee in her throat, burning tears in her eyes as she saw a familiar sculpture, a stone female figure that was supposed to resemble her mother, but did not even partially reflect her beauty.

She approached it and touched its cold surface with her hand, her husband remained silent.

"Mother, this is my husband, prince Aemond. Forgive me for not introducing him to you earlier. He chose me against my and my father's will, but I did not know then how much I would love him. I didn't know that…" She said, feeling her voice break, her husband moved beside her restlessly, swallowing loudly.

"...I didn't know we would make it, I didn't believe I would be as happy as you were with my father. Thank you for watching over me, for listening to my prayers and making the gods send me the husband I asked for." She finished in a trembling voice, choking on her own tears, feeling that only now, two years after these events, did she truly understand what had happened, what she had experienced, what she had gone through, what a long and difficult path it had been.

She heard him come up to her, putting his torch down on the stone ground and embraced her, hugging her to his chest. She felt his heart pounding fast, felt that he was unable to get a word out. He kissed her hair and pressed his face to the top of her head, standing with her like this in the warm light of the fire.

"I thought it was impossible for someone to love me. I thought it was impossible for me to love someone. I thought it was impossible for me to make a good choice when I came here on Vhagar's back..." He whispered, and she clenched her hands tighter on the material of his leather tunic, his warmth, his familiar, wonderful, calming scent spreading through her lungs.

"...and then I saw you."

______

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[thelov3lybookworm]

Another Chance

Summary: Y/n is a fallen star. Lucien finds her.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: my second fic for my first @starfallweek celebration🥳

so, as we all know, i cant live without my baby boi luc, so out of the three random fics i started writing yesterday, this made it to the finish line.

also, i couldnt decide who to pick because, this fic was obviously going to be an x reader fic, but then i got the brilliant idea to make it Jesminda x luc, but now i present to you.... THIS!!!!

(@daycourtofficial please dont kill me ily)

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

If someone got dropped in the middle of a night court's forest and didn't know, all they had to do was wait till the sun set.

After that, the dark practically screamed Night court.

Walking through the thick roots blanketing the ground, it seemed like there was no light in the world, the canopy so thick that even the light from the travelling stars that filled the night sky was hard to penetrate.

The air was still, though the occasional breeze made Lucien shiver as he wandered around aimlessly, trying to pass the time until he returned to the human lands so Vassa and Jurian didn't question him about his early arrival.

Lucien glanced down to his feet as he kicked a rock, then stomped on a fallen branch. In front of him, Lucien could see a clearing coming into view, but he decided to turn away.

That is until the world suddenly brightened, and Lucien's head whipped up to see a bright streak of light flying straight toward that clearing.

He watched as it- the star- collided with the ground and soil flew in every direction, a loud thud echoing in the aftermath before silence again enveloped the forest.

Lucien was sprinting towards the dent in the earth the moment he got his bearings, tripping and falling over his own feet. His heart beat in his ears, telling him to hurry and go to her.

Lucien did not understand this sudden urge, but he did not fight it as he sped up.

Just a few feet away from the shallow crater in the earth, Lucien's ears picked up on sounds.

Groans of pain emanated from whatever had landed in the clearing, and for the first time since Lucien saw it beelining towards the ground, he was on edge and wondering if this was a good idea.

Oh well.

Peering in, Lucien's whole body froze as he studied the softly moving form of... of a fae.

What the fuck?

Lucien's brain had stopped working, for he could do nothing but stare at the female and think about how she felt familiar.

Too familiar.

The colour of her hair, the tone of her skin, the shape of her body...

With a jolt, Lucien realised why she felt so familiar.

This was not a random fae. This was Lucien's first and only love. The one he had watched die in front of his eyes.

Jesminda.

Y/n Jesminda Flores.

She glanced up after a moment of squirming, her eyes widening with relief when she found Lucien staring at her.

"Lucien? Help me out please."

As if in a trance, Lucien watched his hand extend and grasp hers, tears springing in his eyes when his skin touched hers, the familiarity and comfort of it threatening to break him.

He did not feel anything, numb and confused as he watched her dust herself off, still in the bloody slip she had been wearing when she was kill-

No.

Lucien could not think back to that time, for if he did, he would lose any and all composure he had managed to hold on to.

"Jesminda? How- I... how?"

She glanced up at him, a furrow between the brows Lucien used to kiss every chance he got.

"What? Why do you look like someone bit you in the ass huh?" A teasing smile, the one Lucien would have died for, graced her lips, and finally, despite his efforts, a tear slipped out of his eye.

"Y/n, how are you here? I... you- you died."

"Oh shut it Lucien, what do you mean I died? I'm standing here in front of you aren't I?" She glanced behind her to the crater, then frowned down at her slip. "Though I would love to have a chat with whoever put me in that crater and in this ugly thing. Why would someone put a bloody-"

She didn't get to finish, because the next moment, Lucien was wrapped around her, holding her as if he wanted to kill her from lack of air.

"Lucien- Oh mother- stop. I can't breathe."

She tried to slap him on the back, his waist, anywhere she could reach, but he did not budge.

"Y/n- Y/n you died. You were killed in front of me." He sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder.

Y/n froze. "What the hell are you talking about Lucien? I'm..." She trailed off, then quickly pushed him away. "Lucien, what day is it?"

He sniffed. "Starfall in the Nigh court."

She blinked, then turned her face towards the sky. "Was I really killed?"

He nodded.

"Then maybe the stories were true."

"What stories?" Lucien questioned as he discreetly tried to wipe his face on the sleeve of his jacket.

"My mother used to tell me. The souls that travel during starfall? Sometimes the Mother grants them another chance in life, but its so rare that barely anyone knows about it."

She grabbed Lucien's arms, tears now streaming down her face.

"If what you're saying is true, which I believe you, then the Mother has blessed us."

He blinked at her, brain unable to grasp anything. "I-"

She laughed, her head tossed back. "Oh Lucien, my love my heart, what would I ever do without you."

Lucien smiled, starting to believe this was not some cruel joke the mother was playing on him.

She quieted down after a moment, looking at him with the eyes she could only use when in the safety of his rooms.

So much love, too much adoration swirled in the depths of those eyes, a window to her soul.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Its been centuries-"

"Centuries?! What the fuck??"

Lucien laughed then, like the way he'd never laughed since she left him.

"Cauldron boil me, you need to give me all the drama that happened while I was doing mother knows what." She glanced down. "But before that, maybe let me take a shower. And your clothes."

Lucien pulled her in for a kiss before she could demand anything else.

•○🌑○•

Whore hive: @clairebear08 @thehighladywrites @artists-ally @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @readychilledwine

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

[ohworm-writes]

Hi! I don’t know if your requests are open currently so you can ignore this, but I was wondering if you could write something involving Nikolai being a soft dom as he overstimulates the reader, whispering praises into her ear as he coax another orgasm out of her?? I totally think he’s great at aftercare too but that might just be me 🤭 (Also love love LOVE your writing, and this is def inspired by your Nikolai hc’s that I loved too!!) 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽‼️

「✰」 ━━ HONEY AND MOLASSES

RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings : 18+ mdni, afab!reader, feminine pronouns used, soft-dom!Nikolai, sub!reader, overstimulation, cunnilingus, oral sex, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, slight biting, vulgar language, aftercare ]

SYNOPSIS As seen in the request above. (I wrote this in an hour straight, not stopping once. I don't know what possessed me, and I don't even know if this is good, but I really hope you like it. Thank you for the kind words. 🫶) Translations provided at the bottom!

WORD COUNT 1.3k

“Come on, малышка, you can give me another, нет?”

He asks rhetorically, voice low yet so sickly sweet, dripping from his lips as if it were laced with honey and molasses, a sweetness starkly contrasting with the way his thumb circles your clit in slow, counterclockwise circles, the rough padding juxtaposing the softness of his touch, two of his thick fingers filling you to be so utterly full as he curls and stretches them inside of you.

It’s the sweetest feeling, yet the cruelest torture. He’s kept you like this for what feels like hours, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you that you can’t even find the strength in your arms to push or kick him away, left only to whine and keen out in loud, breathy sounds that he listens to like a gospel, the slurred words that fall from your lips sounding like nothing less than a prayer.

A prayer to him - for him.

“Nnn…”

You try to start, the first letter of his name finding its way to the tip of your tongue, ready to fold out and flourish into something more - a plea for him to stop or keep going, you don’t know - before it dies off, crumbles, and shatters, replaced by another whine as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, his chest rumbling as he chuckles deeply with nothing short of amusement.

His fingers continue their ministrations, curling so deeply inside of you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach, arching your back up into his touch and trying to shy away from it at the same time. You’re so drunk on the pleasure he’s been providing to you non-stop that, at this point, you can’t tell if you love it or if you hate it.

“Taking my fingers so well, aren’t you?”

He coos out in a whisper, his nose pressing against your lower abdomen, barely taking his tongue away for a few seconds to speak before it returns, providing you with its undivided attention. His free hand keeps one of your legs pressed back, keeping you wide open for him as he squeezes softly onto the flesh of the underside of your thigh.

“Ты так хорошо принимаешь все, что я тебе даю. Это так прекрасно.”

Your body jerks and spasms as you get closer and closer to your release, borderline thrashing against the bed as you whine out as his tongue quickens in the way it teases and abuses your poor, swollen clit, all puffy from the attention he’s been giving it, his fingers pumping and curling and stretching out your cunt in a way that makes you twitch.

God, it’s so beautifully devastating.

“Can’t… t… too much.”

You complain out to him, voice hoarse and raw, a broken sob passing through your lips and settling into the air between you both, mixing and intertwining with the smell of sex, weaving into a blanket of pleasure. He chuckles, his eyes crinkling as he does so, before he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard onto it, making your breath stutter as it depletes from your lungs.

And then everything blurs.

Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, having you teeter over the edge of pleasure before pushing you in without warning, your eyes rolling back into your head as your back arches, your whole body tensing as you clench and gush around his fingers, completely soaking them with the warm slickness of your climax - though, granted, everything up to his knuckles has been soaked in nothing but your slick and cum for the past while, so there’s hardly any difference.

“There you go, beautiful girl. That’s it.”

He murmurs softly, his tongue gently flicking your clit in slow, unhurried movements, working to draw out your orgasm to the very last second before finally - finally pulling away, pressing one last kiss to it that makes you jolt as he slowly slides his fingers out of you, the makeshift plug that they had acted as being removed, a small amount of your own cum and slick trickling out of you.

It’s an intoxinactingly sinful sight, one that makes him groan deep as he licks off his fingers and knuckles, tongue tracing over every bump and dip of his hands as he cleans remnants of you from it, watching the haze that coats your eyes as your body twitches and shivers ever-so slightly, riding out the last of your high as your body slowly begins to melt into the plush fabric of the bed.

The sight makes him grin, the scruff of his beard scratching against your inner thigh as he leans back, pressing a gentle kiss to it, nibbling softly as he translates his pure adoration into the action, littering kisses and gentle bites all along the skin of your left thigh, before transitioning to the right one, mumbling soft praises against your skin as he does so.

“So perfect for me. Pretty sight, you are. You already know that though, да? Of course you do. Smart thing, too.”

He’s muttering softly to himself, lost in his own world as you lose yourself in yours, dumb from all of the pleasure he’s given to you, having drawn… four? Five orgasms out of you? You can’t even tell or remember at this point, having lost track when the sun first went down outside - it’s pitch black now, so it must have been a while ago.

He worships your body as if it were a work of art - a marble statue sculpted by the ancient Greeks, a work of art for only his eyes to see, to adore, to lust for, to praise, to grab, to touch, to hold, to kiss, to bite, to lick, to worship. Because you are everything to him. You’re the reason he gets up in the mornings and the reason he sleeps so peacefully at night.

A goddess amongst mankind, he muses.

His hands traverse the curves of your form, greedily grabbing and tugging at every inch of skin that he can find, pulling you closer and further into his own bare frame, pressing kisses against your skin, and licking hot, wet paths along your body, as if he were following a map to find a treasure he’s spent his whole life searching for, utterly obsessed with the journey he’s set out on.

Your thighs, your cunt, your tummy, your tits, your shoulders, your hands, your neck… refusing to stop until every inch of skin on your body has been touched by his lips and his words, mumbling out lowly, breathily against the underside of your chin as he continues to travel upwards, right until he finds himself hovering above you, his lips a hairsbreadth away from your own.

“My pretty girl.”

“Y…”

You try to start, wanting to affirm his words and say “yours”, but you’re too fucked out to even think about what letter comes next in that response, your mind too lost in the foggy daze it’s lost itself in, your eyes long having glazed over as you stare at him, blinking slowly with your lips parted, mouth open, having so many words to say but not nearly enough energy or focus to form them.

He silences your words with a kiss to your lips, and you can taste every part of yourself on his tongue as he tastes your lips, swallowing the word from your lungs and your mind until you forget it, only focused on him, fingers reaching upwards with strain towards his cheeks, trying to pull him in impossibly closer, to which he chuckles, the sound reverberating against your chest.

He tuts and clicks his tongue as he gently pats your outer thigh, pulling back by a few inches, his eyes lost in a haze of their own.

“Come on. Let me get you cleaned and fed. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it.”

And how could you ever deny him?

малышка - baby, baby girl

нет - no

Ты так хорошо принимаешь все, что я тебе даю. Это так прекрасно. - You are so good at taking everything I give you. It's so beautiful.

да - yes

[mulberrysilk]

Illicit Affairs | Z. Yeager

Zeke Yeager x f!reader

summary: an unspoken love hidden from others. An involvement with the Zeke Yeager was akin to a sweet dream. It was reckless and was bound to be tragic with what the Wonder Boy’s ambition will bring. Yet, every time, none dared to speak the three words that might change everything or nothing.

cw: canonverse. unprotected sex, hinted corruption kink, secret relationship. creampie, possessive Zeke Yeager, kinda angsty? praise, zeke calls reader good girl. Zeke is only soft to reader, okay i guess this fic is lowkey sweet but more so bittersweet

wc : 5.3k

a/n : it has been very long while and I'm mid away S4 part 2 of AOT but am now watching Bleach just cause. So here is a Zeke fic that's been sitting in my drafts for a long time with a lot of other drafts. I will also start posting some fics when I make an ao3 acc! Again, I'm sorry for being gone for a long time but I'll try to write more because I do miss it and I miss interacting with everyone here too.

Special thanks to @iwaasfairy for beta-reading this! ♥︎

That’s thing about illicit affairs  and clandestine meetings and longing stares

It’s born from just one single glance but it dies and it dies, and it dies

A million little times

“How about you?” The ravenette nodded at your direction, a gentle yet playful smile adorning her face. The sleepy and calm look in her eyes was ever present but now had a shimmer of curiosity. 

“What about me?” 

“Have you been seeing anyone?” Pieck’s grin widened, especially when you froze momentarily. All fell eyes on you now. 

You nervously laughed and played it off by pouring yourself another serving of wine. Little did you know, two pairs of eyes were curiously keen to know the answer, they stared at you with anticipation, and Pieck knew this. 

“Yeah, let me know, so I could beat him up. Give him a good scare,” Galliard smirked, clenching his fist and flexing his bicep to further his point. 

“You won’t have to scare anyone,” you interjected immediately but like being shot with an unexpected arrow to the back or as if being caught sneaking around to steal something, you tensed. The all too familiar burning stare made your skin prickle and your body shiver. Swallowing the lump in your throat and maintaining your composure, you continued. “There’s nobody.” 

To make it even more believable you offered your friends a smile.

The blond across you exhaled as if he held his breath. “If there was somebody, she would tell us. We don’t have to pry like this.” 

Pieck pursed her lips, eyes teasing and in disbelief. “Oh? Well, I’m just teasing her, Reiner.” 

You chuckled and reached to the back of your neck, your senses tingling from the knowing feeling of what it’s like to be in his presence. 

“Plus, people know better than to go after our Y/N.” Porco huffed, leaning back into the cushioned booth seat,  a strand of ashy blond hair falling from its slicked body. “We’re not letting some good for nothing idiot anywhere near her.”

“How protective of you, Pock.” Pieck mused, your ears not picking up a lot as your head buzzed with the effects of wine. “And do you think you’re not a good for nothing idiot?” 

He was here. You could feel him. As you stared into the glass, the still body of deep red reflected your face. 

“Hey, kid.” A hand gently squeezed your shoulder. The warm touch made you shudder as your teeth clenched. Don’t call me, kid. Something about that made your heart sink a little and yet his touch lingered as everyone acknowledged his appearance. 

“What’s Pieck tormenting you with this time?” He asked, voice void of sarcasm one would really think he was serious but that’s him. He says some things seriously with a humour he only understood. 

“I’m not tormenting her,” she giggled, glancing at you as Zeke causally stood behind you, not taking a seat in the booth you four were sat. “Just asking about our dear little crybaby’s love life.” 

“Oh?”

“There’s not much to tell because she claims she doesn’t have one.” 

His thumb gently drew circles on the back of your shoulder, your heart picking up at the gesture. You raised your gaze from the wine and up to him. His defined jaw and the sinews of his neck as he spoke were the first thing you gathered before moving to his lips, his cheekbones, his nose and his eyes.  You weren’t sure if it was the buzz of the wine getting to you, making you feel all soft and fuzzy but this was a face you had gazed upon many a night. Sometimes you wondered why he hid his handsome face with his golden beard. Not that you were complaining, oh no. The hair that framed his mouth and jaw added a kind of wisdom to him, it made his overall countenance even more unreadable. 

“How is she supposed to have one when you’ve got these two,” he tilted his head slightly to the direction of the two men sat across from you. “…Colt and even the kids, guarding her like a hawk?” Zeke jested. 

How indeed. 

“She could be having a secret love affair?” Pieck suggested with a sly smile, winking at your direction.

But all you could think about was how you disliked it when Zeke called you kid. 

Soft linen kissed the bare skin of your back and your head rested upon a cloud soft pillow. Your whole body tingled as if slowly being set aflame, sparks ignited with every single caress from callous yet gentle hands. The bitter taste of tobacco lingered on his pink lips that you’d never imagined to be this soft and yet there was a sweetness to them that you can’t quite place but you craved for more. 

His hands run down your sides and paused at your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze, feeling them as if checking that he was really touching you as his lips refused to leave yours. When they did he found himself wanting to kiss every part of you and he had the rest of the long night to do so. Your lips parted slightly with a soft gasp escaping when his lips, hot, kissed and suckled at the curve of your neck. Your legs shivered to close, wanting to rub against each other for some kind of friction but he was between them as he pinned you beneath him, worshipping you with every kiss and caressing you with adoration.

He felt the way your thighs tried to close, squeezing his waist gently. He couldn’t hold back the smirk that formed on his face as he continued to kiss you, bringing his knee up to your mound.

“Z-Zeke!” You had gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders squeezed him at the sudden pressure of where you began to ache.

“That’s a beautiful rendition of my name, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin. “I’m looking forward to hearing more.” 

Zeke didn’t know what was awoken in him to even try with you. All he knew was he wanted you and that every time you had to leave after being with him and your shared friends, he’d rather go home with you than watch you go. He sought after you in ways he shouldn’t and believed he couldn’t care for. He didn’t know what exactly it was. Was it because his term with his Titan was ending? Maybe he just wanted to live a little? Let loose before he dies? He was too intoxicated by just you to even contemplate an answer, it’s even more difficult when he could feel your supple soft skin beneath his calloused tainted hands, hear your titillating breaths and feel warmth emanating from your body. 

It felt like a crime to be this close to you. To touch you. He couldn’t help but be audacious when he had seen you from across the room, seated by the bar and in  a conversation with Pieck. He had wondered what she had said to you that made you flush and bloom so prettily that the sudden idea of other parts of you being that same shade of flush crossed his mind. He could’ve stayed away. He should’ve. But when you caught him staring at you from afar and you held his gaze, he knew that something was lit aflame. 

Then it happened over and over again. Longing stares, a glint in his eye and a soft nod of your head and a smile to silently acknowledge him. Over and over til small talk became in depth conversations, til soft short touches lingered and became bolder. 

Till it all filled a chalice that was full and now was overflowing endlessly. All that so he could now feel your skin against his, your lips on his lips and be completely and utterly drunk on all of you. 

“T-take these off.” You huffed when you lied back down, annoyed with the fabrics that separated the two of you. 

“Impatient are we?” He grinned, leaning back to full height and kneeling between you. You rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face but when he discarded his blazer and his fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, you let out a deep breath. It was a shame that his clothes hid away such a toned frame, a body that was trained rigorously for years and one that harnessed a Titan. 

“You were the one who kissed me first,” you pointed out, still admiring his physique illuminated by moonlight. 

“I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.” He threw the shirt away before bringing his attention, not like he wasn’t before, back to you. There you laid on his bed, hair beautifully a mess, only in your shell satin slip,pliant and anticipating, looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He wished he could take a picture. 

“See. You’re the impatient one.” 

“Guilty as charged.” He surrendered easily to you and only you. 

Without wasting another precious moment, his lips claimed yours and he would claim it over and over again if he had to. You were sweet. Too sweet. Too much of a good thing that he shouldn’t ruin because God knows the sins he had committed. But at the end of the day, he was also a man. A temptation as promising and as beautiful as you was worth a bite. 

Zeke’s hands roamed the expanse of exposed skin, finding that he adored touching the skin of your thighs as he pushed the satin fabric higher and higher, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he caressed your inner thigh. 

“Have you ever had someone before?” He asked, grey eyes looking through long, pretty, dark golden lashes.

“Why?” You caught your lip between your teeth finding the question amusing as you hid your smirk. “Do you want me to say you’re the first?” 

His hands squeezed your thighs, his jaw tightening as he glared. “You’re teasing.” 

“Am I?” You ran your fingers through his blond hair, pushing it back to see his face. He looked agitated and antagonised, and the way he looked at you like this made you want to push his buttons more. Did it bother him if someone else did touch you? Was he a territorial kind of man? 

His thumbs dug into the flesh of your thighs. “Answer my question.” 

You kept his gaze and let your smile unfold, and he didn’t like that. But you looked so god damn beautiful, smiling down at him like that with your secrets and leaving him on the edge, wondering if you’ll indulge him with what you hid behind that confident expression.

“Why?” You weren’t letting up, your fingers untangling from his locks, his eyes followed  your hand and how it traced your collarbone then slowly down between the valley of your breasts. “You’re wondering if I’ve been touched here?” 

“Yes.” He replied, hands sliding up to grip your hips now. 

“No...and nowhere else.” 

Zeke muttered a swear and your smile remained, finding it amusing how the great Zeke Yeager, the Wonder Boy and War Chief, was acting. You’ve never seen him like this or even imagined him to be like this. 

“Good.” He spoke, moving up so that his face was levelled with yours, his frame caging you. “Because I would make sure you’ll forget whoever it  was.” 

“Didn’t know you were so possessive, War Chief.” You batted your lashes, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.  “It’s a new look on you.” 

“You are a tease.” 

“A secret love affair?” Galliard scoffed as if the possibility of it was so far-fetched. He was in denial of it.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Pieck smirked knowingly at  Porco’s reaction. His annoyance was written all over his face at the thought of someone else getting to you first. “Well, is it?” 

The ravenette was met with silence and you gave your two male friends in front of you a sheepish smile. You weren’t going to say anything. You couldn’t. Not with how things were. 

Far away from peering eyes and gossiping lips, you were his. You knew that. He made sure you knew. It was hard to not remember when every time you two would meet, your skin would have evidence of your time together. His lips would kiss and brandish your skin with marks that would take days to fade and if they did, he’d make sure  to kiss and nip at you again. 

In the privacy of his apartment, he was yours in the way every woman dreamed a man could be. Dressed in his shirts that smelled like him, you’d wander the rooms, going through his collection of books and sometimes making the two of you meals. He freely doted on you and flirted, took care of you and was a different person with you. On the other hand, Zeke could watch you forever but he had never confessed that out loud. Watching you go about his home as if you lived there too, as if you and him were in a world where nothing constrained him, had glimpses of  a future cross his mind. Zeke reminded himself that they were nothing but fantasies. An impossible dream. 

You were his and he was yours, and yet at the table, or in public, you didn’t know what you two were supposed to be. 

“I’m going to call it a night.” You yawned, slowly getting up feeling your lover's hand slip down your back. His touch was gone briefly and you already missed it. What an idiotic, lovesick fool he’s made you. “We should do this again sometime.” 

“Definitely.” Reiner smiled your way and you returned it, unaware of how his expression softened to quiet adoration but a pair of steel grey eyes knew that look too well. 

“I’ll walk the lady home.” Zeke casually announced, not raising any alarms in anyone’s heads. Meanwhile, your heart skipped when he had said that. 

“Sure you won’t stay? You haven’t even sat down to drink?” Galliard asked, hoping he could take over the duty of walking you home. 

“Just saw you all from the window and decided to drop by. Can’t drink tonight, I have a meeting with the top brass tomorrow morning.” Zeke declined courteously, the younger warriors nodding in acknowledgement.

“There’s always next time.” Pieck chirped, not thinking much of how the blond helped you with your coat. Everyone knew how Zeke took care of you. It’s always been like that ever since you all were young. 

“Next round is on me.” He placed a couple of bills on the table, Porco cheering at the treat as you waved at them and excused yourself for the night, Zeke following you three steps behind.

The streets were empty at this hour, dim yellow lights lit the road with white blankets of fallen snow on the ground and that same white was sprinkled on the rooftops. You could feel his gaze on your back and smell the thick scent of tobacco from the cigarette between his lips. You wished he was closer but you didn’t ask for too much with all the unanswered questions of your relationship with him.

“Where’s your scarf?” He asked.

“Oh, I must’ve—,” 

He draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, the intimacy and the sudden closeness catching you off guard. “You’re going to catch a cold if you keep forgetting.” 

“Mhm.” You nodded. That was all you could manage from your shock and fluster. He didn’t pull away after passing four street lamps, he continued to walk by your side as if he should be and as if this was an everyday occurrence, but to you it was so much more. You wished your heart could stop beating so fast so you could really cherish the moment.

“Yours or mine?” He asked when the two of you reached the cross section, his arm still pulling you close to his side, his warmth keeping you from shivering from the cold. 

“I thought you had a meeting with the top brass tomorrow…I don’t want to keep you up.” 

“Mhm, but you will.” He responded with a playful sing song voice all you could was shake your head and softly laugh. 

Your place wasn’t much compared to what he has as Marley’s Wonder Boy and War Chief, and yet when you least expected it he’d drop by, saying he was just passing and then you let him in for coffee or tea which always led to you and him tangled in the sheets. The same goes for his place, except there it felt more like home to you. Somewhere completely safe and guarded. 

“Yours.” You answered, leaning your head against him and he gently squeezed you tightly as a response before turning left, to the direction of his home. 

In the dim hallway, the keys rattled against each other as he unlocked the door, his half embrace around you gone for the time being. You rocked yourself on the balls and heels of your feet watching with butterflies in your tummy as he opened the door. Like a gentleman, he held it open and gestured for you to head in first. 

You shook your head, smiled, and stepped in. You looked around the apartment, very minimalist as always but homey in its own way. You removed your coat and folded it neatly to hang on the armchair. Plain white curtains, sand coloured sofa with matching cushions, a coffee table with books stacked on its surface as well as several folded newspapers from the days before and a crystal ashtray that had been your gift to him. 

The door clicked shut  and locked behind you, you exhaled feeling the comfort of his home wash over you. You turned to him. 

“Should I make coffee for the both—

You didn’t finish your offer as his lips on yours stopped you from doing so. His hands held your waist and pulled you against him. 

“No coffee, just you.” He managed to say in between kisses, his hands sliding down to the curve of your ass and even lower, a signal you knew all too well. You did as he asked, bouncing once so he could support you in wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Good girl.” He hummed with praise, before clashing his lips against yours again, easily carrying you to the direction of his bedroom. 

God, you loved hearing every praise that poured from those lips of his. 

Clothes came off quickly and were discarded along the way. His hands roamed the expanse of your body, caressing every curve and every spot that he had memorised would make you shiver in the sweet way you do. He knew your body and soul, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t love him. It was hard not to, especially when you’re lying on your back, breathless from hot kisses and heavy petting, on the edge of anticipation, caged beneath his frame with his handsome face hovering inches away from yours. He’d always, even in the heat of every passionate moment, have a little pause as if just to look at you, to savour the moment. It never failed to make you blush. To be subject to his intense gaze laced with desire and something that you could not read. 

Why did it have to be Zeke Yeager? 

Little did you know, in his head, every time he gazed upon your flushed and glistening face, he wondered about how you could’ve been with Galliard or Reiner, any other man you wanted. The thought of anyone else looking upon you and touching you like this made his chest sizzle with green jealousy. He wanted you to be his and in this moment, when you’re lying beneath him, plush lips parted and waiting for more, he’s reminded that you were his. 

Zeke hissed softly, torn from his epiphany when he felt the softness of your fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down gently. You lined his cock to your entrance, the man before you amused by your impatience. He could feel the dampness leaking from you on his hot tip and it took everything in him to not grab your hips and fuck you then and there. 

“Z-Zeke…” you whine, pouting up at him. “P-please?” 

“How badly do you need me?” He asked, sliding his length beneath your folds, a breathy moan leaving you as it brushed against your clit. 

“B-bad.” You managed to say, your hands resting on his back. “Please.” Your lips trembled with want, Zeke unable to maintain his composure. “I want you. Need to feel you.” You began to rock your hips against his length, trying to get some sort of relief from the searing ache he had caused. God, he loved it when you were like this. 

Obliging to your cute sweet begging, he entered you painfully and deliciously slow. The heat of your walls wrapped snugly around him, fluttering and tightening at the intrusion, making him groan softly against your forehead while you moaned at the sensation of being finally filled. Each and every time, the beginning was a spreading warmth of euphoria.

Zeke’s teeth gritted against each other and he swore as he bottomed out, remaining still to just feel you. His pelvis pressed against yours, soft moans fell from your lips at the sensation of him inside of you as if all your secret trysts hadn’t made you used to him. How were you able to make him feel like this? So desperate, hot and bothered, and insatiable for your touch and attention. A rough hand gripped your hip, while the other steadied him to prevent him from crushing you with his frame. 

“You gotta let me know if I can move, sweetheart.” There was a hint of tease in his voice but he needed your green light as always. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. Your arms tugged him close, allowing you that comfort. He listened as you took a shaky breath, your hips wiggling to have a feel. A moan left you as you did, giving him the answer he needed. “I swear,” he muttered, his hands assisting your legs to wrap around his waist. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He wished that could be true. 

Your heart skipped a beat at his words but that sweetness was overtaken with hot passionate need, when he rolled his hips, cock smoothly sliding between your walls. Your back arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest as you moaned and shuddered at the sensation. God, you needed more. 

“Good girl.” He kissed your cheek, thrusting and began to set a steady pace, all restraint leaving him with the way you tightened around him with the praise as his name fell so sweetly over and over from your lips.  

Shared soft moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The city outside was silent and the heat of your bodies fought off the cold bite of the winter breeze. Your nails sunk themselves in the skin of his back, the throbbing pleasure within your walls toe curling good. Zeke rather adored the marks your cute little claws would leave, he would always glance at them in the mirror post-sex when he has a chance before his regeneration makes it fade. 

If you had any sort of shame within you, you’d be embarrassed at how you panted and moaned for him. Your desire for him was painfully obvious. His hips rhythmically colliding against yours emitted obscene wet squelching, your cunt greedily welcoming his thick length as you felt every inch of him against your plush walls.

“You’re only this wet for me aren’t you?” He teased, his hand on your hip assisting your left leg to hook around his hips, allowing him to angle himself in the way that you liked that all you could do to respond to him was whine. “That’s it. Good girl.” The praise fell so enticingly smooth from his lips, his pace steady but fast. 

Pleasure bloomed through you, the tightening feeling in your core cooling tighter and tighter, close to snapping. The heat, his skin, his voice, everything. You wanted it. You wanted to be his forever. You wantonly begged for more, your nails carving crescent dents into his back as he rolled his hips over and over with burning lust. This was the closest you’ll ever be with him. The closest he’s going to allow you to be with him. 

“Fuck, I’m close.” Zeke grunted, hips not faltering from its pace and hands gripping your hips tighter. The blond chased his high, slamming his pelvis against yours, driving his cock into your plush pulsating walls and watching how you stared up at him with those lustful heavy lidded eyes. “You’re close too huh?” The sound of his voice made your walls tighten around him, Zeke groaning at the feeling. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 

“You. Want you…make me come please.” You whined, brought closer to the edge when you felt one his hands leave your hip to splay itself over your lower belly, palm pressing against your skin and his thumb against your clit. You moaned out his name, your hips bucking at the added stimulation.

You didn’t have to tell Zeke twice. You were so good. So obedient. So sweet. So cute even like this, moaning and whining with pleasure, your breasts bouncing with every thrust and  the lips of your pussy split by his cock, walls hugging him so snugly. He can never get tired of this, of you. 

Zeke’s pace stuttered. Your walls squeezed him tighter and tighter, so close to your climax. Your voice was getting higher and louder too. His name fell from your lips like chants from a devoted worshipper begging their God to grant them their wishes. It boosted his ego as if it wasn’t already big enough, and he continued to rub circles on your clit, watching your lips part in a silent scream, your eyes shutting as you succumbed to your climax. 

No. He wanted you to look at him. 

The hand that remained on your hip, wrapped around your throat, your eyes fluttering open. Your brows furrowed as you huffed and panted, you looked up at him as if to ask what he was doing. His darkened unwavering gaze told you exactly what he wanted and your shoulders dropped, relaxing as the piling build up of your orgasm doubled. Zeke gently squeezed your pretty neck, surprised to feel your walls tighten around him. Did you like that? “C’mon, just keep looking at me, sweetheart. Let me see you.”

Your head was spinning from pleasure, your thoughts being nothing but how good his hot length moved inside of you and how you were tingling intensely with pleasure. The circular pattern when he massaged your clit quickened and the next thrust he gave kissed your g-spot so suddenly, the tightening coil within you snapped. 

Zeke groaned at the wetness that coated his cock as your walls spasmed around him, sucking him in he could only shallowly thrust, your legs wrapped tightly around him. He was so close, so damn close and  there it was. That drunken lustful look that haunted his dreams and appeared in every impure fantasy. His fingers left your throat, opting to cradle your face as he managed a couple more thrusts before completely forgetting himself, already lost the moment his skin kissed yours. 

You sucked in a deep breath, never breaking from his gaze and watching his eyes shut in bliss. His blond hair glistened in the dim room, strands stuck to his forehead gleaming with perspiration and his soft lips were parted ever so slightly, his face just completely relaxed and rapturous. You were so caught up in your own haze that you didn’t fully register the unfamiliar warmth that bloomed in your insides. 

Zeke doesn’t separate his hips from yours, he instead wrapped his arms around you, wanting to pepper your chest with kisses before nestling his forehead into the curve of your neck, still in his high. You wrap your own arms around him, your hand caressing the back of his head, running your fingers through his golden locks, just relishing this closeness. Your heart was in your throat, torn from saying the three words you don’t dare to say but would die to hear from him. 

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, your body already felt the fatigue catch up. As you slowly drifted to sleep, you could still feel Zeke lazily kiss along your neck. You fell asleep easily, remembering the sensation of his lips on each eyelid and him softly saying that he’ll take care of you before you fully passed out. 

Only then did Zeke slowly untangle himself from you, pausing when he realised his cock was still buried inside of you. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, pushing his hair back as he scolded himself for his mistake. It was careless of him. He couldn’t believe he lost  control like that.   Not letting himself lose composure and not wanting to wake you, not with how peacefully you slept, he slowly pulled out. His mind was blank as he stared bewildered at a sight that should’ve felt like a sharp slap  in the face, instead he felt hot to his core. Between your puffy lips, milky white leaked from your hole and unto the bed. He should be ashamed of himself… not like this. Gently with his thumb, he split your folds apart just watching as whatever of his seed overflowed from your full womb. God, why was that thought driving him mad? He could feel himself getting hard again at the sight. He had always, always, pulled out…finished on your skin, either your back, your ass, your tits, your stomach, your face. Never inside. It was against his creed. But fuck, he wanted to do it again. 

“Mhm…” you hummed in your sleep, shifting a little, fingers sleepily feeling the bed for the duvet. 

Zeke was snapped out of his trance, his eyes moved to your face, seeing you still in peace. The post sex glow lit your features and he’s reminded to go grab a towel and clean you up. Knelt again before you, he softly swiped the cloth along your inner thighs, his eyes drifting to your pussy stained with his cum. He should clean that up first.  

He didn’t know if he should apologise. He probably should. What he did was beyond careless. It was irresponsible. It’s against everything he fought for…and yet, that image of a happy family flashed his mind again. You, him and a babe in this apartment. He hasn’t got long so he shouldn’t even think about it. He should never think about it. 

“Zeke…” you murmured his name, eyes still shut, your hand heavily sliding itself on his side of the bed, brows furrowing ever so slightly at the emptiness. 

“I’m here, sweetheart.” He answered softly, resuming to clean up the mess he made. 

“Come…sleep…” 

“I’ll have a smoke first.” He gently dabbed the towel on your sensitive core, successfully having fought the curious urge to shove his cum back into your cunt with his fingers. What were you doing to him? 

“Okay…” your voice grew softer, turning to your side. Zeke covered your naked body with the duvet so that he's not tempted…

Out in the balcony with his trousers hanging low on his hips,  he inhaled deeply the fumes of the cigarette, finding comfort in the small little stick. What was he doing? He turned his thoughts over and over like pages in a book in search of pieces that would fit together to give him a solid conclusion.

In that ten minute smoke session he knew one thing for sure.

He was screwed.

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (6)

Chapter Six: Tribe

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: A mission from Cid sees you and the Batch dealing with something much bigger than what you had originally been expecting.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mild angst, fluff, my own fear of spiders being projected

Word Count: 6.4K

Author's notes: When this episode first aired, I got very excited for what it meant to my writing for this season so hope you enjoy! Also, I have arranged a cry for help with regards to Ch7 lol cause I have too many ideas so any assistance would be appreciated! xx

You’d been back on the Cid assigned missions for a while now, each one never quite the same so as the ship pulled into the most recent mission location, you couldn’t help but wonder what this one would have in store.

The ship touched down and you all left the ship, coverings, and helmets on.

“Cid said the Vanguard Axis is notorious for illegal smuggling. So be ready for anything.” Hunter advised. “Wrecker, Tech, and I will make the delivery. Echo, (Y/N), and Omega. Guard the ship.” He directed.

The three of you waited as the others made their way through.

--

You and Omega were sat on the steps whilst Echo stayed standing next to you. All three of you were observing the droid activates around you.

“There’s something off about this place. I don’t like it.” Omega said uneasily.

“Yeah, me neither.” Echo concurred. “But we’re not staying for long. I’ll prep the ship.” He began to walk up the stairs.

You shuffled out the way and gave a distracted nod of agreement. There was a tingling in your spine you couldn’t quite shake. You clued into the Force around you and there was something almost… familiar in it. A presence you hadn’t felt since you’d been around your fellow Jedi. That alone was making you a bit jumpy. You didn’t know where that optimism or wishful thinking had come from.

Your head shot up, along with Omega’s at the sound of a howl and clattering in the distance. You both stood up. Omega looked to you.

You nodded your permission and together, you both set off to see what was making the noise.

--

As you moved the maze of shipping containers in the direction of the commotion, you found that whatever it was you were sensing earlier on grew stronger and you couldn’t understand why, and it was driving you up the wall. It was only when you felt Omega tug on your arm that you realised that you’d stopped moving. You shook your shoulders and the two of you hid by some of the crates and watched in horror as you saw an adolescent Wookiee being jabbed with electro-staffs by two of the droids.

“Stop! You’re hurting him!” Omega yelled as she ran over.

Since you couldn’t and wouldn’t want to stop her, you followed.

“Halt, humanoids.” The droid ordered. “Do not interfere with Vanguard Axis business.”

Any retort died on your lips as you stared at the Wookiee. What you were feeling was coming from him but that didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t make sense… You didn’t have the chance to think about it for long since the Wookiee took the opportunity of the droids being distracted to leap up and disarm one of the droids. He knocked it down and then swiftly stabbed the second one with the staff. But his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and it was then you saw with the droid he’d originally forced to the ground make a move to grab him. You and Omega each fired a shot, and the droid was destroyed.

The Wookiee turned and stared at the two of you.

You didn’t have time to stick around as you heard the door behind you whirr open. “More are coming. Hurry!” You said and the three of darted back into the rows of cargo.

--

In all the sneaking around, the young Wookiee had separated from the two of you. You turned the corner but were greeted by one of the droids.

“Halt-” It didn’t get to finish the command due to the electro-staff that came down on its head.

You and Omega watched as the Wookiee jumped down from the droid and made his way past you.

“Not that way.” Omega hissed.

You both followed to find him urgently searching through one of the containers.

“What are you doing? You need to go before they find you.” You warned.

“Omega, (Y/N), let’s get back to the ship.” Echo said as he walked through the door.

The Wookiee snarled in the direction of the newcomer.

Echo took half a step back.

“It’s okay. He’s a friend.” Omega comforted. It had little effect; the Wookiee just turned and ran back the way you all had come from. “Wait!” Omega called, getting ready to go.

Echo put his mechanical arm in front of the young girl and turned to you.

His helmeted gaze just screamed ‘the two of you couldn’t stay out of trouble for two minutes?’. “Those droids are after him.” You explained. You omitted your personal conundrum for the moment.

“Come on!” Omega said before she ran after the Wookiee.

You titled your head and Echo who merely sighed before he started to run too.

--

The other three were nearly done securing the deal when the main droid’s comm beeped and the sound of blaster fire echoed through before the droid on the other end spoke.

“We have a situation.”

“Problem?” Hunter asked innocently as the message ended, knowing full well that whatever was happening had something to do with his remaining team.

The droid said nothing. He walked away and took the rest of the droids in the room to assess what the issue was.

“The cause of that blaster fire is from one of the other three. I’d say it’s most likely (Y/N) or Omega.” Tech hypothesised. Just as he said that their comms chirped, and it was Echo’s voice that came through.

“Hunter, we need backup now.”

--

The four of you took cover behind a box and looked at the group of Axis droids ahead of you.

“What sort of treachery is this?” The lead droid demanded as he saw his prize with the smuggling group.

“Stay back!” Omega ordered as she drew her bow.

You, Echo, and the Wookiee raised your blasters.

The lead droid wasn’t put off. He waved his droids forward, but any advance was cut off as a shot came in from the right and the leader of the group, he had been dealing with had disarmed one of his droids.

“They’re with us.” Hunter said coolly.

The lead droid turned to him. “I would advise you to take your soldiers and extricate yourselves from the situation.”

“No! They’re going to hurt him.” Omega said.

The droid faced the young girl. “Oh, on the contrary. The Wookiee is worth a great deal to our buyer. Alive.”

“You can’t smuggle living beings.” You said, voice filled with disgust.

“For the right price, I can do whatever I want. Now stand down or be destroyed.”

Your reply didn’t come. Instead, whatever you had been sensing around that Wookie grew tenfold and your blaster arm lowered slightly as you stared at him. You weren’t alone either. Both you and Omega were looking at him as he raised his hands towards the lead droid.

What you saw next filled you with what you could only describe as pure, unadulterated joy with a bit of shock on the side. You’d never thought you’d see that weapon again, let alone see a Jedi holding one.

The Wookiee let out a roar and stood tall and ignited the lightsaber the head droid had stolen from him. The green blade shone brightly.

All hell broke loose, shots were being fired in all directions, but you didn’t care. You could barely think straight. You were frozen in place. All you cared about was what was happening in front of you. You’d been so sure they were all dead. You watched as he deflected bolts of blaster fire with ease, albeit his form was slightly unrefined but that was to be expected. He’d probably barely scratched the surface of his training before Order 66 happened.

Hunter watched your reaction, or lack thereof. You had made no moves to take cover or even fire back. He understood why, whatever surprise he and the others would be feeling, you would be experiencing it far more intensely, but it was stressing him out.

He and Tech pushed a repulsorcraft over to Wrecker who picked it up and used it as cover before throwing it into the ranks of the droids. Hunter jumped over it and used his vibroblade to stab another droid. He quickly made his way over to you and pulled you out of the line of fire. “Focus, stay with me, alright? You get killed here, everything you want to know goes unanswered, not to mention I’ll be severely pissed off, okay?”

You nodded and made yourself concentrate on getting out of here alive. There would be time for everything else later. You and Hunter started to provide cover fire so Omega and the Wookiee could get clear.

“Get to the ship.” Hunter instructed Omega.

“Come on!” She shouted to the Wookiee over the blaster fire.

The Wookiee grunted before he followed the girl out.

You and Hunter went next and all of you managed to get back to the ship hangar, but you saw the Wookiee hesitate as the rest of you boarded the ship.

“Hurry!” You encouraged as much as you could despite the continuous onslaught of blaster fire.

The Wookiee considered his options for a moment. He was unsure about this, but anything was better that whatever fate those droids had planned for him and there was something about you that made him trust you on instinct. He boarded the ship.

Tech got the ship in the air and managed to get out of range. He put the ship into the safety of hyperspace.

--

The others kept their eyes on you as you paced up and down the cockpit, mumbling to yourself and occasionally glancing to the Wookiee huddled in a corner by the steps to the Omega’s room.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” Wrecker asked you, his voice as quiet as he could manage.

“I don’t know.” You replied, still pacing, and wringing your hand anxiously.

“Well, don’t you want to tell him that he’s not the sole survivor?” Tech said, not fully grasping why you were so nervous to talk to him.

Hunter caught the upper part of your arm as you turned to continue walking. He spoke softly as he addressed you. “What’s on your mind?”

You released a long breath. “I don’t know how to start.”

Hunter waited for you to go on.

You started pacing again and your hands gripped the roots of your hair. ‘Hey kid, guess what, you’re not the only Jedi to have survived Order 66. Oh no, I wasn’t personally attacked, I actually left the Jedi Order way before it happened. Oh, things turned out okay for me in the grand scheme of things. I forgot all the rules of attachment, got a new family, and fell in love. How’d you survive? How long have you been on your own and where were you being smuggled to?” You rambled, your voice growing more and more distressed. You paused for a brief moment before continuing, “He’s been through so much and I… I got lucky and right now… right now that feels so wrong.” You said quietly as you ceased your stride once more.

They all looked at you with sympathetic eyes.

Hunter rested a hand on your shoulder. “You getting away and finding a new path isn’t something to feel guilty about. What’s important is he’s here now but he’s scared could probably use some good news.”

Omega picked up the ration box. “He also needs to eat. Why don’t I go first, and you can follow and go from there?”

You took another deep breath and nodded.

Omega walked up to the young Wookiee and placed the box down along with a water cannister. “Here. You look hungry.”

You sat down next to her and smiled at him. You noticed that he seemed to look at you a second longer than he did Omega which would make sense given the circumstances.

The Wookiee roared aggressively as he saw the clones appear behind the two of you.

Hunter and the other recoiled.

“What’s wrong?” Omega asked.

“He doesn’t trust us.” Hunter replied.

“Well, seeing how all clones were given an order to execute the Jedi, he has good reason to be cautious.”

Hunter took a small step forward and raised his hand to signify he meant no threat. “I’m sorry about what happened. But we are not like the other clones. We did not follow that order.” He sat in the chair across from one of the control panels. “And we don’t work for the Empire either.”

“Hunter’s telling the truth.” You reassured the Wookiee. “I-” You coughed and started again. “I wouldn’t be here if they had anything to do with the Empire or that Order.” You noticed the slight head tilt the Wookiee gave you. You inhaled deeply and channelled the Force and lifted the water cannister and put it into his paw.

The Wookie released a series of excited roars and launched himself at you.

You fell back with a laugh and patted his head.

“See, you don’t have to be afraid of us.” Omega said as the Wookie sat back again. She nudged the food back in front of his. “It’s okay, eat.”

The Wookiee looked to you.

You nodded reassuringly.

He dived into the food and water.

“I’m Omega. What’s you name?” She asked as she hopped up onto a bunk.

You all looked to Tech as the Wookiee replied but clearly it was a day to be filled with surprises because it wasn’t Tech who answered.

“My Wookiee is a little rusty, but I think he says his name is Gungi.” Hunter revealed.

You angled to face him; eyes wide. “You speak Wookiee?? How did I not know this?”

Hunter merely shrugged. “Never really came up in conversation.”

Well, you being bilingual has just increased your attractiveness and I didn’t think that was possible.

Hunter grunted a quiet laugh before Gungi started to speak again but he couldn’t quite get all the words. “You catch that?” He asked Tech.

Tech, being the only one with his helmet still on so he could translate, replied, “He’s been on the run since Order 66, and was attempting to reach the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk before he was captured by those smuggling droids.”

“I’m not sure how you survived this long on your own, but it’s impressive.” Hunter admired.

Omega jumped back down. “If he’s trying to get to his homeworld, we can take him.”

“Been a while since we’ve been to Kashyyyk.” Wrecker said.

Hunter stood up and walked back to where Echo was standing in the hallway.

“The Empire could have outposts there by now.” Echo cautioned. “We don’t know if it’s safe for him there. If it’s safe for either of them.” He added as he looked towards you and Gungi.

Hunter sighed and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked back too. He saw you and Gungi playing a form of Force catch with Omega using the now empty water cannister. “They’re Jedi. They’re not safe anywhere.”

--

“Hunter, can you come back here please?” You called as Gungi had started to speak to you.

Hunter stood behind you and leaned against the wall.

“Okay, Gungi, can you repeat that please?” You requested.

Gungi did so and pushed the water cannister back into your hand.

“He wants to know your name and how you managed to escape the Order 66.” Hunter explained.

You told Gungi your name but saw his face frown. “Yeah, you probably wouldn’t have heard of me. I actually um left the Jedi Order a long time ago…. I left that life behind me a long time ago. I didn’t always get on with the members of the Order but what happened that day…” You placed your hand on Gungi’s paw. “No matter my feelings towards them, nobody deserved that. I’m- I’m so sorry.” It sounded like such a lame thing to say but you didn’t really know what else would make sense.

Gungi grumbled appreciatively and waited for you to carry on with your explanation.

You huffed out a quick breath. “Fast forward and I’ve met this group. That’s how I survived Order 66, I kept my previous life and identity pretty quiet. They only found out due to someone’s keen observations.” You added with a cheeky grin in Omega’s direction who smiled back at you and grabbed the water as it moved in the air towards her.

Gungi spoke again as he caught the cannister from Omega.

“He wants to know when you left.” Hunter translated.

“Umm…” You thought back. “Probably coming up on three years ago now. I don’t know how old you were or how much you knew her or the situation, but I left pretty soon after a Jedi called Ahsoka did.”

Gungi nodded his head and let out some happy roars.

“You knew her?” You asked with a smile as you received the water.

Gungi nodded again and grunted in your direction.

Hunter took a moment to make sure he understood everything before he told you what Gungi said, “He’s wondering if you know what’s happened to her since she left… if she also survived.”

You shook your head regretfully before you touched his arm as you saw his head hang. “But hey, you never know. I thought all the Jedi were gone and then you turned up.” That seemed to lift his spirits a little bit. He released another series of rumbles in your direction.

“I missed some of that, but I think he’s asking about how you ended up with us.” Hunter provided.

“I was on my own for a while when I came across them needing a bit of help. I was offered a place and didn’t look back.”

Gungi glanced between you and Hunter and mumbled some soft roars.

You didn’t need Hunter for this. You knew what he was asking. “Your instincts are pretty spot on. I didn’t gel with the Order and that part of things anyway.” You gave Hunter a warm smile which he returned.

“They’re very sweet. Sometimes too sweet the others think.” Omega whispered to Gungi.

“We heard that.” You and Hunter said in sync to the young girl who only laughed in response.

Gungi studied you for a minute as you looked back at Hunter. At the most, he could sense some fire, a sense of fierce protectiveness within you that was not solely limited to Hunter, it radiated through to the others, but your attachments for them all didn’t extend into channelling the darkside, nor any of the negative things he’s been taught if someone was to allow that attachment in their life. No, you seemed happy, content. Maybe things worked differently for you.

“We are coming up on Kashyyyk.” Tech called out.

The four of you made your way towards the cockpit.

Gungi walked over to the big clone and stared longingly at the ration bar in his hand.

Wrecker handed it to him.

You and Hunter took up opposite sides of the wall frame. Both your poses the same- arms crossed and keeping an eye on Gungi.

“We’re heading to a village we know of.” Hunter said before he walked over and laid a hand on Gungi’s back, so he was now facing him. “The Wookiees there should be able to help you.”

“I’ve locked into the coordinates.” Echo stated. “But I’m picking up heavy smoke and deforestation.”

“Keep an eye out for Imperial outposts.” Hunter said. “Oh, and kid. Keep that laser sword hidden. It, uh, draws attention we don’t want.”

Gungi put his lighsaber in his satchel.

You walked over to where Hunter was now standing in the cockpit. You bumped your hip against his. “Laser sword?”

“What was so wrong about that?” Hunter asked with a smile.

“No, nothing. It’s cute.” You teased. “We just call them lightsabers but I like laser sword. It has a fun ring to it.” You pushed your hood and mask up as the ship entered the atmosphere.

--

The ship touched down and you all walked out.

You took in the beautiful forest around you. You’d never had the opportunity of going to Kashyyyk but the descriptions you’d heard were not wrong. The forests were dense, filled with thick trunked trees which were covered in vibrant green leaves and the other plant life was also plentiful.

You all walked into the forest were rays of sunlight managed to peak through the gaps in the branches. The grass was lush beneath your feet. Things felt peaceful.

“Do you remember anything about this planet?” Omega asked Gungi. “What did he say?” Omega asked Hunter as Gungi replied.

“From his dreams.” Hunter answered.

Wildlife chittered around you all as you moved deeper into the forest and you weren’t thrilled with what greeted you. An unhappy groan left your throat.

“What is it?” Hunter queried.

You indicated ahead of you. Webs. You replied dully and you felt your skin start to crawl with the thought of what could be lurking above you.

“It’ll be fine.” Hunter comforted quietly.

“Here, I’ll take care of it.” Wrecker said as he grabbed his longer vibroblade and took the lead, cutting through the web to clear a path.

A shriek above you made you all stop, and you couldn’t help the way you jumped back. You had no control over it. Why of all the wildlife to encounter did it have to be spider-esque appearing ones. More descended from the trees and it was like a nightmare coming true for you.

“They’re swarming us.” Echo said agitatedly.

You were fully prepared to just stay frozen and let the creatures win but that wouldn’t be very productive. Your hand hovered over your blaster just in case.

Wrecker raised his but Gungi pushed it back down.

“Hold your fire.” Hunter commanded.

Gungi spoke to Hunter.

“He says, ‘They will not attack unless we pose a threat.” Tech translated.

 Gungi reached out into the Force around him and the creatures. He assured them that they meant no harm, that they were simply passing through.

The creatures ascended back towards the treetops.

Behind your mask, you huffed out a relieved sigh. “You got that down quicker than I ever did. I’m still practicing.” You praised Gungi. “Certainly explains the green blade.”

Gungi let out an appreciative rumble and pointed to his bag and then to you.

“Mine was blue.” You said.

Gungi nodded his understanding before he led the way.

--

“Arachnophobia?” Tech observed as the two of you walked behind Gungi and Hunter. Each touch of a web and animal chitter had you twitching.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You mumbled.

“Experiencing fear is perfectly natural.” Tech provided as a means of comfort. “We all have something we worry more irrationally about than others.”

“And what’s your fear, Tech? Being wrong?” You kidded.

“In a way. Being wrong when it truly matters and someone getting hurt because of it.”

You hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t often you got a glimpse into the more vulnerable and emotional side of him. You glanced at him. “Thank you for sharing that.” You said, your voice gentle.

Tech simply nodded and the two of you kept walking.

--

You all emerged at the top of the hillside and stared at the vast space ahead.

“According to my telemetry, the village is straight ahead.” Tech pointed from his datapad.

The seven of you started the climb down.

--

Except the village wasn’t there. It had been destroyed. Smoke and dying embers surrounded the area. The trees had been cut and burned down. There was nothing left.

Hunter kneeled down and examined the ground. “Tanks came through here.” He let out a regretful sigh. “The Empire incinerated the entire village.”

Your heart ached for Gungi as you watched him fall to his knees. All this Empire knew how to do was take and destroy and it disgusted you.

Omega walked up to Gungi and crouched next to him. “The Empire destroyed our home too. Don’t worry. We’ll find your people.” She helped him back up.

The sound of machinery put you all on guard and you retreated into the forest and hunkered down behind the grass.

Tech brought out his macrobinoculars.

“What do you see?” Hunter asked him.

“Trandoshans. And they have a Wookiee hostage.”

“How did they get their hands on Imperial tanks?” You questioned. Your blood boiled as you saw the Trandoshans set fire to the surrounding area.

It was then Omega noticed Gungi was no longer next to her. “Hunter, Gungi.” She whispered urgently.

Hunter parted the tall grass and saw the young Wookiee making a beeline for the scene ahead. “Oh, no.”

Now, that’s a Padawan learner. You thought to yourself with a smile. You couldn’t really blame him for the slightly reckless act, but he wouldn’t be able to handle this on his own. You all ran to assist him.

--

Gungi ignited his lightsaber as he stared down the Trandoshan in front of him. He deflected the blaster fire with ease as he ran over to free his fellow Wookiee.

Echo, Wrecker and Tech provided cover fire whilst you, Omega and Hunter moved in to help Gungi take care of the tanks.

It was over rather quickly but you’d wished you’d gotten here sooner. There was no saving this area from the destruction the Trandoshans had caused but you could stop it from going any further. You and Omega both touched the upper part of Gungi’s arm to soothe him.

“We need to stop the flames from spreading. Start digging.” Hunter directed as he handed out the shovels the Trandoshans had been using.

--

It took a while, but the combined team effort meant you managed to stop the fire and prevent it from spreading. You all regrouped by one of the tanks only to get a brief moment of reprieve before the sounds of growling filled the forests. You all reached for your weapons.

“More Trandoshans?” Echo asked.

“No. Something bigger.” Hunter replied.

Your eyes widened as more Wookiees arrived from the treetops on the backs of large, cat-like creatures.

The Wookiees signalled for you all to climb on and once you all were secured, they took you into the trees to their safe haven.

--

You patted the side of the creature as you departed it and took in the scene in front of you. The Wookiee Gungi had rescued from the Trandoshan ran up to the older looking female Wookie who angled her forehead to press against his. After she did this, she turned her attention on you all.

“Her name is Yanna. She appears to be leading them.” Tech interpreted after she finished speaking.

“We are returning him to his homeworld.” Hunter explained. “But he doesn’t know what village he’s from.”

Gungi made his way through the group and awaited the answer from Yanna.

You watched as Yanna kneeled in front of him and brought him into the same familial touch that she had greeted the first Wookiee with. It seemed like Gungi was to be given a place amongst them.

Yanna studied you all for a moment before she addressed who she assumed was the leader.

“We were soldiers of the Republic.” Hunter answered before he took of his helmet. “But let’s just say we don’t see eye-to-eye with the Empire.”

Yanna continued to speak to him.

“We came because Gungi was in trouble. Jedi or not, he’s still a child. He needs his people.”

The sincerity of his words made you smile behind your mask. Whether he knew it or not, he had a paternal instinct within him that wasn’t just limited to Omega. He didn’t need to answer in that particular way, yet he did, and it warmed your heart. You threaded your fingers through his as Yanna beckoned you all to follow her into the hut.

--

You had to fight to keep back the laugh that threatened to spill from your lips as you watched the scene across the table. It was a tale of opposites. Wrecker eagerly awaited a taste of whatever it was the Wookiee was drinking whilst Echo was looking on in utter disgust.

The Wookiee noticed the two men in front of him were without food, so he offered some over.

“Uh, no, thanks.” Echo declined with a grimace.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Wrecker said happily as he decided against the spoon and just drank from the bowl.

Not even going to try some? You taunted.

Echo just wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Yanna’s agreed to let Gungi stay with them.” Omega said as she, Hunter and Gungi walked over to the table.

“What about the Trandoshans?” You asked.

Hunter came to sit next to you. “The Empire’s been using them to strip the planet’s resources. Many of the villagers have fled deeper into the jungle.”

“Yanna’s scouts are reporting a large convoy in this direction. She says to leave.” Tech stated as he came over with Yanna.

“Hunter, the Wookiees were our allies for years. We have to do something.” Echo implored.

“Yeah, they can’t be allowed to get away with this.” You concurred.

Gungi also released a determined roar of agreement.

Hunter faced Yanna. “We’ll stay and help you fight them.”

Yanna spoke softly.

“You don’t have to do this alone.” Hunter reassured her.

Yanna said something to her fellow Wookiees.

You all watched as they, along with Gungi, followed her outside. They all walked over to the base of the trunk of one of the trees and placed a hand on the roots and kneeled.

“What are they doing?” Omega asked.

“They’re asking the trees for help.” Hunter replied.

“They’re talking to the trees?” Omega said, a tad bewildered but also fascinated, as she looked at them.

“They believe this planet belongs to the trees. And they are allies in this fight.” Tech further explained.

“We’ll take all the allies we can get.” You murmured.

--

Dawn came and it had been Wrecker and Echo’s turn to take up position at the hut and keep an eye out for any Trandoshan or Imperial activity.

Echo peered through his binoculars, and it was then he saw fresh fire and smoke. “Wrecker, found em.” Together, they dashed over to the main doorway where the rest of you were. “The Trandoshan convoy’s closing in.”

Whilst Hunter had remained standing behind Omega, you had been sat next to Tech, his datapad keeping you both occupied but you stopped and stood up when Echo and Wrecker approached.

The other Wookiees had finished their ritual and Gungi ran up to Hunter to fill him in.

“The trees have a plan?” He repeated, flummoxed as this was not a military strategy he was aware of, but he was willing to run with it. “Alright.” He put his helmet on. “Whatever they say.”

You came up beside him, hood already up. See, you’re becoming more open-minded every day.

“Somehow this is less taxing.” He muttered to you.

You grinned at him before you pushed your mask up. “Fill us in on the plan, Gungi.”

--

You were hidden from view and patiently waited for the oncoming Imperial tanks and soldiers and Trandoshans to get in range.

“The tracks have broken off. There’s no trace of them.” The clone commed through to the lead Trandoshan.

“They can’t run far.” The Trandoshan hissed in reply. As soon as he said that, sounded ahead and a tank suddenly exploded.

“Ambush!” The clone sounded the alarm.

You all fired shots towards them, the natural cover the jungle provided made it difficult for your foe to return fire accurately.

After the initial disruption your group caused, it was time for the second phase. A squad of Wookiees came down on backs of their cat companions and met the tanks and soldiers head on. When they had successfully drawn the forces closer, they retreated into the forest to lure the Empire towards them, and it was time for phase three.

“Stick to the plan. Draw them into the nest.” Hunter directed.

You all fell back for your least favourite part of this plan as you retreated a bit further back into the webbed part of the woodland. You just had to keep reminding yourself that they were going to be useful and there wasn’t a need to feel terrified of them. The fact that you were never one to shy away from a fight and could face death practically every day, but any eight-legged or similar looking things sent your heart pounding a mile a minute completely baffled you.

You and the others held your ground once more and continued the barrage of fire whilst Wrecker and another Wookiee ensured the tanks that followed were out of commission.

Gungi decided to speed things along and help out. He activated his lightsaber and cut the gun from one of the tanks before he focused his attention on the last tank with the lead Trandoshan in it. He leapt towards him and swiftly dodged the burning hot flame that appeared from the flamethrower the lizard was now holding. He jumped down from the tank and ran back into the jungle, sensing that the leader’s greed would make him follow without thinking things through.

Omega saw Gungi run in a direction away from the rest of you and decided to follow.

--

Meanwhile, the rest of you had started to hit against the bottom of the trees, hoping the resulting vibrations would draw the animals above out and down towards your enemies. The growing eery chittering and howling indicated that the plan was going to work.

You watched on with both glee and mild nausea at the scene unfolding. It was a nightmare coming true, but the plan had gone exactly how the Wookiees predicted it would go. The creatures unleashed themselves upon the Imperials, cutting them down and forcing them to withdraw.

“Guess the trees knew what they were doing.” Wrecker stated in a satisfied manner.

It was then Hunter realised two members of the group were missing and he had to keep his panic at bay. “Where did the kids go?”

You and Echo fell in line behind Hunter as he started to track their recent steps.

--

Hunter paused and examined the ground below. It was then he heard a rustling up ahead and he lifted his head to the sounds of footsteps approaching but felt nothing but relief as he saw Omega and Gungi appear.

You also breathed out in relief but that was short-lived due to the news that Omega brought.

“The fire! It’s spreading too fast!” She panted as she and Gungi sprinted to the group.

“Tech, gather all the Wookiees.” Hunter said through the comm channel.

You holstered your blaster and walked up to the two children. “You two okay?”

Omega nodded.

Gungi let out an agreeing grunt.

“Gungi took care of the head Trandoshan.” Omega said as she got her breath back.

You faced the young Wookiee. “Nice job.”

Gungi chuffed out a pleased growl.

It was a few minutes before Tech arrived with the shovels and the other Wookiees and you all got to work.

--

With the fire safely handled, you all went back to the treetop village.

Wrecker enjoyed the food once more and had even delved into learning the language. He tried out some of it on his Wookiee friend before he took another mouthful of food. He wiped his mouth. “You know, I could get used to this.” He said with a chuckle.

Echo decided to be brave. He dipped his bowl into the soup in front of him and took a sip. A sip that left him pleasantly surprised. “Hmm. Not bad.” He clinked bowls with the Wookiee next to him.

Yanna looked on warmly before she noticed you and the lead clone standing in the doorway. She’d felt the bond between the two of you since you’d arrived and the secure and comforting arm he’d put around your waist and the way your head laid tenderly on his shoulder served to prove she’d been right.

Tech put on his helmet and followed her out.

You and Hunter watched on as Gungi and Omega kneeled by the tree. The young girl mirroring what the Wookiees had done earlier. They looked completely at ease.

Yanna let out a gentle roar as she approached your side.

You lifted your head from Hunter’s armoured shoulder and greeted the Wookiee with a respectful tilt of your head.

“They’re both just kids. But they don’t get to be.” Hunter told her. He let out a rueful sigh. “Not in this galaxy.”

You could see the flash of regret on his face. You reached down and squeezed his hand.

Yanna started to speak.

Tech translated as she went. “When a young one leaves, the trees weep. But when they return, the trees sing. As this child has found his new home, perhaps, one day, we all will find a new path.”

Her words were beautiful, and they left you feeling more hopeful than you had in a long time.

“Hopefully…” Hunter said with a sigh… “one far away from war.” The thought itself felt so inconceivable but he wished for it, nonetheless.

--

“How are you feeling after all this?” Hunter whispered as the others slept as the ship flew through hyperspace. His fingers slowly playing with your hair.

You kept your eyes closed. “Optimistic. There may be others out there who got away.”

Hunter maintained his ministrations but paused for a second before he asked you this next question. He wasn’t sure how sensitive a topic this would be but being around Gungi and Kashyyyk had him thinking about it and it was something you hadn’t talked about before. “Do you remember much about your home?”

“Nope.” You replied, brief and to the point.

Hunter wasn’t quite satisfied with that. His lips placed delicate kisses to the back of your neck, imploring you do give him more than that.

You let out a deep and content sigh as you turned on your other side to face him. “I don’t even have dreams to remember it by. I just have flashes of what I picture it was like, but I know they’re not based on anything other than my imagination, I felt nothing when I thought of it. Eventually, I just stopped.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed slightly.

You saw the concern growing behind his eyes, so you cupped the side of his face. “I have my home right here. I don’t need to think or wonder about another one.” You kissed him tenderly before you turned back around and let him pull you close to his chest.

Next Chapter>

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[bengiyo]

Marahuyo Project Eps 3 & 4 Stray Thoughts

Last time, we met King, our out queer activist, whose family moved him to Marahuyo after he was expelled from his high school for making out with his friend and then knocking down the dean. Here, on an island with only 12 hours of electricity a day, King finds himself with little queer community and so decides to build it himself. He bonded with Venice, a trans girl in his class, to build an LGBTQIA+ organization in their school. Unfortunately, he must get the approval of the student council president and then the board. King believes the president is his enemy, but it’s clear these two are vibing. We’re also detecting queers all over the place, particularly Lorena and Lili. I’m having a blast to finally be back in the Philippines and to have a show not in the bubble.

Episode 3: Sidapa At Bulan

I’m getting really sad for Ino. I grew up in a city, and so as I started to figure out myself I was able to go online and express that. All he can do is write his letters to the cosmos and the gods and leave them on a rotting boat.

I am so happy for Venice that she has a friend. She’s clearly resurging out of her shell.

OOF, this eye contact scene.

Wow, Lili is smart enough to make sure they’re actually alone in the bathroom before having a serious conversation.

That’s right, Lorena, you take the time to figure out what queerness means to you.

Omg are we faking distress now??

CPR could actually break his ribs, so this is probably a terrible idea.

I’m glad they didn’t touch lips like this.

Okay, that tongue in cheek moment was something else. Holy shit.

I’m a fan of the plan to write letters back to Ino!

I bet it was Ino who vandalized the mural. This mermaid thing is too specific to the people of Marahuyo.

Marco, STFU. This is not about you! Lorena is standing up for her friend! FFS!

I always feel so much for people like Lorie in the community. Lorie never intended to come out, but she did to protect someone else in her community with a show of solidarity. I also came out because I didn’t want to hurt a woman I admired and respected a lot.

Archie and Venice were definitely close before. He knows way too much about her, and is constantly trying to protect her.

I do love how plain the politics of this show are. Drawing the comparison of people wanting to defend Ino’s family and reputation with the lack of defense for King and his friends is a strong note. It’s especially potent because Ino seems to have serious angst about his family’s reputation.

I love the notes exchange. Ino is smart, and definitely suspects that he’s actually writing to King. This is such a great way for him to work up his courage and comfort.

Episode 4: Santelmo

Wow. Cutting his hair while King was asleep is so, so violent.

King, please do not embarrass yourself IN A BARBERSHOP!

The barber may have done a good job with the haircut, but I’m still mad about his mom cutting his hair.

King is correct. Ino is way more attractive when he’s experiencing joy or amusement.

I love Venice. She came over to call out King on his bullshit and then immediately started teasing.

It’s 2024! We all verse now!

Okay, Lorie, that’s so difficult. I had wondered about her reactions whenever her dad came up in discussion.

Oh no. Does Venice know who died by the beach in the Santelmo story?

Oh ho, we’re sitting on a log on the beach and talking about love. I really love the way Adrian turns to the camera as King.

I actually love that King as a character is jaded about love. He’s not building an organization because he’s looking to smash or for love. He’s building it because he believes in community for people like him.

That being said, he’s so ridiculous about Ino.

COUPLE KEY CHAINS ALREADY??

Do we have any fans from the Philippines watching on Tumblr? I’d like some additional linguistic context about the ‘mermaid’ term. Getting the sense that Ino’s dad left for a queer relationship.

King’s shirt looks even gayer during this splashing scene.

They let these boys ride the bike themselves at night? Brave choices from this production team.

Wow, an even gayer crop top.

This grief scene was devastating.

Archie, dude, you’re killing me. You lost one trans friend. Why shove the other away like this?

Yeah, the mom basically just told Ino, “Don’t be gay.”

Um, I’m really fucking nervous about someone approaching the boat with a fucking torch.

I am absolutely in love with this show. I love that for all the posturing that there’s no queerness on Marahuyo, we now know of multiple characters who are either queer or closely related to queer people. It’s been so long since we’ve seen a show where the characters have expressed their feelings for each other in roundabout ways but won’t say it openly, and that not feel like shit. Everyone who’s seen them together can see what’s happening. I’m so nervous for Ino. I love that King is being patient with him without diminishing himself or his goals. I’m going to be thinking about Lorie abandoning the safety of heteronormativity and the closet to stand beside other queers, and also about Venice having to constantly defend hers and Christina’s names to their former best friend.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,043

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest)

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2023

*I actually teared up a few times while writing this one, because the dream described in this one is literally a dream I just had a few hours ago. Doesn't help how vivid and real my dreams look and feel.

"I heard you moaning my name in your sleep." Gunnar stated with a smirk, thinking he'd caught her having a wet dream about him. "You died in my dream." (Y/n) frowned before glancing at the rest of the team, who were across the warehouse packing equipment. Gunnar had since frozen at her words, his smirk vanishing. "You all did." She added bitterly before standing up and walking away, suddenly in desperate need for fresh air. The Sweed remind frozen there for several minutes, shocked and honestly appalled by the thought of (Y/n) having to watch them all die. When the guys laughed particularly loud at something that had occurred, Gunnar snapped out of his mind and went looking for (Y/n), finding her smoking a cigarette on the roof. He walked across the roof, and sat beside her, so close their knees touched. It was his way of showing her that he was still here, still alive. But she didn't even turn to look at him, instead the cherry of her cigarette simply glew as she took another long drag, her eyes locked on the darkness of the night sky.

"What happened?" Gunnar asked suddenly, genuinely curious about how bad her dream must have been to shake her up like this. "We were on a mission, on some off the grid tropical island. An island that was lost, and supposedly untouched by man for decades." She took another deep drag, and Gunnar wondered why he'd never noticed her smoking before. "Well that was bullshit of course." She chuckled darkly. "Why were we sent there?" Gunnar asked, his eyes locked solely on her, while her gaze remained elsewhere. "To find and retrieve an ancient artifact. Worth millions. It was like a dream come true, easiest job we'd ever been on. That's what we thought anyways." Her tongue swiped out and across her bottom lip before she continued. "We were deep in the jungle, separated into teams. You, me, and Caesar were travelling down the river in kayaks. Ross, Christmas, and Toll were on foot. They were gonna check an old temple deep within the jungle, we were gonna check an old village nestled within a massive cave a ways down the river." She snuffed out the rest of the cigarette.

"I wasn't there in the dream, but I still saw it happen, Toll had accidentally tripped a booby trap. An old bouncing Betty was triggered, and then he was gone. Then bombs were going off at the base of trees surrounding Ross and Christmas. Ross got pinned, and ended up dying when a wolf with only half a face came and tore his throat out. Christmas made it out, only to be cornered by two Jaguar... I don't know if he'd lost his knives or what... But he... Well he didn't stand a chance." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. It wasn't until then that Gunnar realized just how deeply he cared for (Y/n), as he fought an internal battle to resist taking her in his arms and chasing that nightmare away. "We only had two kayaks, so as usual me and you paired up together. But when Caesar was suddenly shot through the heart, you shoved be out of the boat and into the water, yelling to get the hell out of there until you were also shot through the heart." Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't even hide wiping them away. The sight broke Gunnars heart. "You guys kept floating down river in the boats, and I stayed in the water beside you, using your bodies as cover, and hoping whoever had shot you would think I had drowned." She sniffled as her nose began to run from her bodies reaction to her crying.

"No such luck I guess. Caesars boat got flipped when it bumped a bolder, tossing his into the water, and breaking part of my cover. A bullet struck the water just a few inches from my head, then my legs got tangled up in this jumble of rocks. Of course my foot got stuck." She shook her head. "You kept floating down the river of course. And I couldn't tear my eyes away, even as I heard men shouting and running into the water. Your voice still ringing in my ears, telling me to get outta here." She ran a hand through her hair, and Gunnar placed his hand right above her knee, trying to offer her comfort. "I uh got my foot free, and tried climbing onto a bolder, hoping to use it as an advantage point." She cleared her throat. "But I was surrounded, mostly by these deformed looking animals, and only about four guys. But they had rifles, and I'd lost mine when you tried saving me." (Y/n) finally turned her gaze to Gunnar then. "I couldn't help but look downstream where you were, sighing in heartbreak as I muttered "Oh Gunnar." Then I was knocked out when one of the men struck me with the butt of his gun." Gunnar realized that what he had heard while she was asleep, and had assumed to be scandalous or lewd, had actually been her parting words to him as he was lost entirely to her.

"I woke up in a cave, one right off the river, it wasn't quiet where we had been headed, but probably not far off. Anyways I had my hands tied behind my back, and I was struggling to stand up. When I did I saw that wolf with half a face. One side was normal, while the other side was missing all the skin and most of the muscle, like it was dead and decaying." (Y/n) had since turned her eyes back to the far distance. "And it wasn't until it looked at me and growled that I realized it was gnawing on Ross's severed arm. Lucky ring." She sighed heavily, and Gunnar gave her leg a light squeeze, encouraging her to continue. "I could hear this rhythmic thumping coming from a corridor to my right, it was alluring in a way, almost hypnotic. Knowing I was the only one left I needed to decide if getting the job done was worth it, or if running away was a better idea. I know most of you guys would have wanted me to run and save myself, but I couldn't just let you all die for nothing, I just needed to figure out what I was going to do." Gunnar frowned deeper, knowing that's exactly what they'd want, and that's exactly what she'd do. And he hated it.

"I don't really remember how I got my hands free, I think I used a stalagmite, or something like that. But right as I broke my bonds one of the guys from before had entered the chamber. He was the one that had the sniper, and had killed you and Caesar." (Y/n)'s fingers moved to pick at a string on the hem of her shirt. "He started talking about the artifact we were there for, about how it had some effect on living things, made them bloodthirsty, dangerous. He didn't seem upset about it, or about what he'd done. He was smiling in fact, as if he were proud of his accomplishments. Fucking asshole." She hissed as she shook her head. "He just kept monologuing, and then these weird monkey looking things started attacking my legs. So I kicked the little bastards off, one of them tried jumping at me, but I caught it by the throat, and I just squeezed and just kept squeezing even after I'd felt it's neck break. I... I was so angry, so... Heartbroken." (Y/n) wiped her eyes as a new wave of tears threatened to spill.

"Something had happened then, and despite clearly being on the same team, the guy and that wolf were now at each other's throats. It was as if the violence I had caused, triggered something in everything around me and they all just started killing eachother." She swallowed thickly. "I took my chance and took off down the corridor I heard the thumping coming from. And the closer I got to it, the odder the corridor became. The floor had turned into a small stream, with sand, rocks, and everything. But the walls, the walls were the strangest thing. It was as if they were made of carved wax, intricate tribal designs carved all across the walls, which were shiny from a thin layer of it melting in the heat that was coming from further down the hall." She frowned as she tried in vain to understand. "When I reached the chamber the floor had eroded into a pit filled with fire, while a narrow path lead to the artifact. The artifact itself was just a small statue of some lost deity, but you could still feel it's power. It wasn't until I managed to tear my eyes away from the statue, that I realized you were all hanging from the ceiling. Even Toll, who was only a pair of legs by that point. I screamed and cried, and I realized that this thing couldn't leave the island, and neither could I." She chuckled bitterly.

"I never have had the nerve to ask Ross to teach me how to fly." She then shook her head before continuing. "I knew you had what I needed, because you were the only one crazy enough to carry c4 in your pocket for "emergencies". So I scaled the wall and ceiling, cussing and crying the entire time from how much it hurt my muscles and hands, until I reached you." Gunnar squeezed her leg again, and this time (Y/n) rest her head against his shoulder, sighing deeply as she did so. "You looked so peaceful, like you were only sleeping. I remember resting my forehead against yours, whispering about how I wasn't far behind. And after placing a kiss..." She hesitated, but the feeling of Gunnar leaning ever so slightly into her kept her talking. "Against your lips. I took what I would need, and made my way back down to the ground. I then planted the c4 and set up the detonator, when I was finished with that I sat on the ground beside the statue, looking up at all of you and whispering my apology for failing you all. And with one final look at you, I triggered the detonator." She sat upright from leaning against Gunnar. "Then I woke up, found you all okay and in good spirits. But I can't get those images out of my head, how real it all felt, how much it hurt to watch you die, and for what? For nothing." Gunnar stopped her rambling by taking a gentle hold of her head and turning her to him.

"That's never gonna happen." He assured her before closing the distance between them, kissing her tenderly despite wanting to pour all of his want into their first kiss. (Y/n) had jumped in surprise initially, but quickly melted into the kiss, having been harboring a crush on Gunnar for years now. Gunnar pulled away first, both of them still a little dazed from the kiss. "We're never going to a lost island, and we are never going to go retrieve some ancient artifact." (Y/n) smiled at his words, a content sigh passing her lips when he kissed her once more. This time when he pulled away he had a smile on his face. "And Barney is going to teach you how to fly that shitty plane of his." He added as he pulled her hands into his own, his thumbs tracing the backs of her hands as they simply gazed at eachother. "Whatever you say big guy." (Y/n) hummed softly, knowing he was true to his word, despite the almost playful look in his eyes. All was well in the world, because they were alive, he was alive. And now he was hers.

[thecheesiestcheese23]

the hand that feeds (and the heart that bleeds)

47 was an unknown and innominate man whose mind was a gaping maw of death and destruction; who was a blight upon some and a freak of nature to others. He thought he was nothing more, could be nothing more.

Until he remembered.

Until Six.

Until Lucas.

--

hello!! this is my first time writing anything in like,,, ever so please don't judge lmao. i recently got into this game and the lore and storyline is soso good compared to other fandoms i've been in recently.

for some notes: this is mainly based off of the trilogy, however i have added some aspects of the old games and from what i've seen of the comics. also, i have not read the comics, so i have taken some liberties on them. the title is loosely based off of ozymandias by percy bysshe shelly (which is a really good read) and i def recommend. ALSO if anyone has any song recommendations for my hitman playlist pls drop a comment ty.

please do enjoy!

words: 4.6k

--

A timeless chasm tears open within his mind, the hungered mouth swallowing everything that he knew.

“This is your gift.” An empty voice speaks to him and a blank-faced boy. He blinks, and the boy dissipates into ash. “Your gift, and your curse.” A heavy hand rests upon his shoulder (upon his mind and his memories, burying them) and squeezes, a nameless man looming above him. A voice booms from the man, and yet he only shows a vacant visage. “To touch lives only by ending them.”

--

Agent 47 was no stranger to being called a machine.

He's heard it from other ICA agents spread through gossip, an off-handed comment from Diana, an insult spat from the lips of Soders as he died. He let it fester, doing nothing to stop it. It had never bothered him before: let people think what they will.

After all, it was partially true in some form, not that he remembered- he was genetically modified for killing, his bare atoms torn apart and made into an unempathetic and inhumane killer. He was a twisted and unsettling imitation of a man, a vicious mockery of what he should have been. An improbable being made of stone and dust where blood that is not his own drips down his body and pools beneath his feet.

Before he remembered, 47 thought he could be nothing more. The call of death hummed in his veins with the handle of a knife fitting perfectly within the palm of his calloused hand. It was all he knew since waking up in the asylum, knowing nothing more than the most effective way to kill and how the recoil of a gun felt.

The ICA had given him a sense of purpose. A home, of sorts. Diana, in turn, appeared in his life, a constant presence in his ear, her quick-witted humor and steady voice filling in the void where he knew someone else should be.

The thought would give him pause at moments, which was unlike him. 47 knew he didn’t remember much of anything beyond the art of death, but there was always this pressing feeling that there was more that he should know. It settled like ash on his tongue, sour and grainy.

The only proof that he held of this feeling was the polaroid clutched between his thumb and forefinger. Angry eyes stared back at him, a cold blue that mirrored his own detached ones. It was him- he was sure of it. The picture sat heavy in his scarred palm, an unnamed weight tied to it.

47 sees the face every time he blinks his eyes, an unknown slate of himself pushing against his eyelids, a haunting image following him wherever he goes. It presses down on his shoulders, bears down on his violent mind. He leans back in the leather chair that sat in the hotel room, the material squeaking in protest for a moment. There had been points over his time employed at the ICA where he had wondered if his past was really worth remembering.

His eyes slid over to the open briefcase on the made bed, the light from the windows catching on the sliver of the guns and the glass of the bottles. He remembers what Diana had told him over the phone call, her smooth voice crackling over the phone, over the many continents that separated them.

“I, too, know what it’s like to have everything taken from you.” Diana admitted, her voice tinny over the phone. 47 says nothing, letting her speak. “He claims to know about your past; your childhood, your memories, everything Ort-Meyer stole from you.”

Would it be worth it? To join Providence just to remember his past? More importantly, how did Providence know who he used to be? There had to be something more than what they were telling Diana.

He didn’t know if it was worth it. It was as if the world had just spat him out; opened up to a gaping maw where he was made not from a mother or father but from death itself. If that was all he remembered, then maybe there was a reason for that.

47 slides the photo into his pocket, smoothing it over as he stands up fluidly from the chair. With a snap, he closes the briefcase and takes it in hand. There was little else for him to take- he never left a trace of himself anywhere. (Distantly, somewhere far away, a rosary hangs from a wooden gate, swaying softly in the wind.)

He strides out the door, a ghost in everything but name.

--

The first memory 47 could recall was of a snow white rabbit.

It was a runaway lab rabbit with beady red eyes and silky fur. The first time 47 had met it, it had been hidden underneath his bed. Curious, he reached his hand out to grab it, yet it had scurried away.

He was unsure of what to do, how to continue. It was unnerving.

47 did not know how to be kind.

Over the expanse of a few weeks, 47 taught himself how to care. He cared for it as well as he knew how- he fed it scraps from dinner and water smuggled from lunch. Slowly, it no longer flinched away from 47’s heavy hand- it leant towards it instead, like a flower to the sun.

He was surprised by the softness of it all. The kindness it exhibited. It was a feeling 47 had never experienced before and it acted as reprieve from the constant tests and pain that the Institute provided.

He knew Ort-Meyer didn’t approve- he made it known with condescending glances and patronizing words, saying that boys like him didn’t need unimportant attachments to such things. Still, he did nothing to remove it, so 47 kept it.

Unlike everything else at the institute, it was gentle- forgiving, even. It was not jagged at the edges or venomous in its words.

And then there was Six.

47 eyes the boy in his room, ever untrusting. The boy (who he distantly recognizes as Subject 6) sputters for a moment, standing up straight from where he was crouched over the rabbit. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”

47 nods slowly, analyzing the room. Six continues. “I had just heard you had this rabbit. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He tilts his head, thinking. “It is… alright. You are Subject Six, no?”

Six nods, seemingly more relaxed than the other. “Yes. And everyone knows who you are, 47.” He looks to the rabbit and then back again. “I did not mean to intrude. I can leave if you wish.”

He nods again. “You can… visit more often, if you like. The company would be enjoyable. You do not seem like the others.”

The boy smiles, almost giddily, and 47 is taken aback for a moment.

The next two years pass in a similar motion- the two becoming closer and closer by the day.

That was, until 47 came back to a dead rabbit.

Six was away on a mission, so there was no one for him to turn to. He knelt down before the dead rabbit where it was beaten senseless and bloody, the red blood seeping into the cold concrete below. The other boys had always been particularly cruel. Something burns in his eyes, and before he can blink whatever it was away, it drips down his cheeks.

He stays there, broken and crying before his bloodied rabbit.

--

Streaks of blood stream down Wazier Kale’s forehead. A smoking gun is hidden away, slipped behind the black void that is 47’s suit.

“The infamous Maelstrom is dead.” Diana hums in his ear. “Excellent work, 47.”

47 sometimes wondered about the people he killed. About the families and dreams they left behind; about the opportunities not yet taken. About their life- their past. He wondered what it was like to have the opportunity to be something.

It wasn’t something he enjoyed thinking about often.

“Mission accomplished.” Diana says, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Time to find an exit. It’s almost too bad we can’t stay for a vacation. Lovely weather this time of year.” She jokingly muses, humming and not expecting a reply.

47, as expected, says nothing as he leaves the building. He leaves no trace behind: the gunshot unheard in the loudness of the streets, the gun unregistered, and he easily blends into the crowd.

Diana had asked years upon years ago about his past. About who he was. All he had to answer her with was a number made name and the suit he wore. If asked now by her, he would say that he was a hitman. A contract killer. Others would say that he was a freak of nature, an animal in the skin of a human. As he slid into the cab, to the people wandering the street, he was nothing more than a man.

His back is set in a straight line, the guns resting at his hips barely noticeable. The cab rolls over the brick of the road, and it takes a few minutes before Diana speaks. Usually, the two wouldn’t speak until 47 was back in a safehouse, so he listens intently to her words, wondering if something had gone wrong.

“Agent 47,” Diana breathes, and to anyone else, she would sound impassive, but 47 knows better. She sounds almost giddy, yet she tries to reel it in with a front of professionalism.

He says nothing, not wanting to freak out the cab driver, so he just hums.

“I have been tracking any suspicious purchases of large or abandoned buildings lately after the dismantlement of the base in Colorado, and just now, I have received a notice that an abandoned building out in Romania has been purchased by an antonyms investor with the use of cryptocurrency. It has to be Lucas Grey.”

Lucas Grey. The Shadow client. The man they’ve been hunting for the past year. To have this much of a lead on him would allow 47 to put an end to this once and for all.

But this is almost too easy. Grey has been covering up his tracks well enough over the past year that even Providence hasn’t been able to track him.

“But,” Diana continues, taking the words right out of his mouth. “Even if this does end up to be Grey, it still very much could be a trap.”

The cab sputters to a stop with the driver shouting something in Marathi, and 47 takes that as his cue to get out. He gives the cab driver more than what the fee would have been, but he’s gone by the time the cab driver can process this.

“It is the most we’ve had on him in the past year.” Agent 47 says smoothly, not agreeing or disagreeing on Diana’s hesitance as he strolls on the long-since abandoned sidewalks towards the airport.

“It is.” She agreed, and he can faintly hear typing in the background. “The plan is to wait for a few weeks to monitor the place; see if there will be anyone else entering or leaving the compound.”

He’s silent for a moment before Diana continues.

“47, this is the only way to return your memories. To learn what Ort-Meyer has stolen from you. Don’t you think it’s time to get some closure?”

47 thinks of a polaroid burned long ago. Of angry blue eyes. Of a past long lost. Of a boy he killed.

He finds that he agrees with Diana.

--

47 and Six run through the forest with nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other. Gunfire rings out, bullets lodging themselves in the wood of trees and the soft dirt of the ground.

They duck beneath branches and hop over streams of water, silent as they could be. Their breaths stay quiet and even, trusting in the other to follow them wordlessly as they continue through the endless forest. Their feet sink into the soft earth as down-pouring rain splattered down around them, drenching their jumpsuits as they blinked the water out of their eyes.

“The rain’s good.” Six had whispered to 47 after they had taken out the guards at the main entrance, hovering close behind him. “It’ll cover our tracks.”

47 swiped the access card he had stolen from Ort-Meyer earlier. He was the only one who could get close enough to do so. “It can cover theirs too.” He said, sparing a glance at Six as the door soundlessly unlocked.

The two had been planning this for months on end through hushed voices after dark and on assignments, not wanting to be caught by Ort-Meyer or any of the guards. Finally, they had put their plan into motion: a piece of concrete broken off from the underside of the cafeteria tables had been all they needed to distract a guard and strangle him with a homemade fiber wire. They choke out the others, snap the necks of some, and kill the rest with silenced pistols.

The smell of earth and the taste of liberation on their tongues was a heady feeling.

Now the two sprint towards the promise of freedom with bullets flying at their backs, never taking a moment to rest when they knew it could be their last. 47 dutifully followed Six, never faltering or doubting for a moment.

That was, until he tumbled forward onto the wet and slick ground below. He slides for a moment, unsure of what had happened until a dull pain spreads throughout his shoulder. One of the guards had gotten him. Grunting silently, he pushes himself up with his good arm to his feet, staggering for a moment.

In an instant, Six is by his side, a question on the tip of his tongue before 47 shakes his head. “I’m fine. We need to go.”

Six stares at him for a moment, assessing, before nodding his head in a sharp jerk and taking 47 by the good bicep to encourage him along. “C’mon, 47, aren’t you supposed to be the best of us?” He attempts to joke as they continue running, but it falls flat. Still, 47 finds it within himself to huff a laugh.

They continue to run, only this time side by side with Six clenching his bicep in a death grip as if he was afraid he was going to disappear if he let up for even one second. At least with the movement, he could feel that the bullet had gone clean through, so there was no need to dig it out once they were safe.

Yet safety never came.

With another two resounding gunshots, 47 felt a bullet lodge in his lower stomach, and if knowing by some innate feeling, he shoves Six out of the way to get another bullet lodged in his leg instead of his brother’s.

He tumbles down once more, a wet gasp leaving his mouth as his injured leg connects to the ground below.

“Why would you take that bullet, you-!” Six knelt down beside him, fluttering hands skating over the wounds, not knowing how to help in a moment of panic for his brother. “Shit! 47- fuck, come on, you need to get up!”

“Six.” 47 gasped, more so in fear for his brother than for himself. The barking of dogs and the pounding of footsteps only grew closer. “You need to run.”

“No, come on, I am not leaving you. Not here. Not in their clutches.” Six shakes his head, resolute. 47's heart throbs in anguish. And then his wounds sear in pain as Six attempts to pick him up. He was always the more hopeful of the two.

47, in one last attempt, gets up with the help of his brother before he lurches forward in pain. He knew that even with three bullet holes in him, he would still be able to run, but he would only end up hindering Six. Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. “You need to run.” He repeats.

Six protests immediately. “No-”

“I’ll only slow you down. You and I both know this.” He insists steadily as he stumbles away slowly, acceptance slowly blooming within his gut.

“I’ll carry you. You’ll heal. I can’t go on without you. I won’t know how.” Six continues on, distress clearly showing in the lines of his body.

“The bullet is still in my leg. I won’t make it long without proper medical care.”

“I’ll dig it out myself-”

“Six.” 47 interrupts him, speaking through a mouth full of blood. It dribbles down his chin and stains him. “Please.”

He was never one for words, and he never begged, not for anything, but for his brother, he would do anything. He would get down on his knees before the altar of a long-forgotten god and beg for his safety, he would cut out his heart if Six needed it, he would kill for him, die for him, return to that god-forsaken institute for him. ”Live your life for me. For the both of us. Be free.”

He hesitates for a moment, but 47 can see the dawning realization on his face. His older brother swallows harshly, encapsulating one of his hands in both of his. “I’ll come back for you, okay? I’m- I’m not just going to leave you here.”

He should tell him no. He should tell him to run and forget about everything that has happened here. About the Institute. About Ort-Meyer. About the torture, the experiments, the pain and suffering.

About him.

But he allows himself to be selfish, to hope one last time. He nods shakily, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay.”

Six squeezed his hand, yet the ever-increasing closeness of the guards spurred him away. He disappears into the foliage, looking back one last time before the forest swallows him whole. 47 pitched forward, catching himself on the rough bark of a tree as black spots danced in his vision.

With a shuddering sigh, he forces himself back up and makes his legs move in a different direction, intent on leading the soldiers away. He makes as much noise as possible before he heaves forward, a tangle of limbs on the ground.

The last thing he sees before he passes out is the looming building of the Institute that hovers over the tree line and the muzzle of a Weatherby Vanguard pointed at his face.

The black void engulfs his vision, grief and blood heavy on his tongue.

--

The place, just as Diana had described it, was deserted.

And familiar.

It was familiar in a way you had something at the tip of your tongue, yet couldn't name it. The way a dream slips away. The way you walk into a room and forget why you’re there.

“He’s here.” 47 says as he approaches it.

The dilapidated building stood crumbling yet tall with vines crawling along the stone sides and in through the broken windows. Getting there had 47 traversing through acres upon acres of foliage with only Diana there to guide him at points. There was something odd about this forest, however. At points, there would be bullets deeply ingrained into the trees or embedded into the dirt below.

“The breadcrumbs were almost too easy to follow, 47. This could be a trap-” Diana’s voice wavers for a moment before being forcibly cut off.

“Not a trap.” He muses to himself as a window flickers to life with light.

The gate swung open easily, creaking. If this was any other mission, he would have found another way in.

Deep down however, with a churning gut and unknown past, he knows he knew this building. He loads his gun.

“An invitation.”

Now it was time to find out how.

--

47 sits straight in an uncomfortable chair, the cold of it seeping into his bones. His head is held high as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s back as the man hunches over, fiddling with something.

Resentment pools within his gut and hatred burns the back of his throat.

It would be so easy to slam Ort-Meyer’s head down into the metal table until his face was nothing more than flesh stuck to his palms, but he had to bide his time before his next escape attempt. Six had already gotten out, and that was more than enough for now. To know that his brother was free from the Institution's clutches gave him more than enough hope that he could get out next.

His thigh, shoulder, and stomach all throb in a distant reminder of what had happened: not in pain, but as a dull memory; the wounds have all long since healed. 47 grits his teeth and bides his time.

The rest of his brothers had already been killed or had been placed in another part of the building, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be next. If he was going to be, they would have put him down in that forest. He was too useful to them. He was the perfect clone.

‘Too useful to waste.’ Ort-Meyer apparently agreed with this sentiment.

Something akin to fear settles deep beneath his skin when Ort-Meyer turns back around, filled syringe in hand. The man begins to pace, circling around 47. He tenses and his nails dig into the metal of the chair, leaving crevices behind.

“47,” Ort-Meyer begins, voice even. “I understand your actions. You felt trapped, scared. 6 had been tormenting you for so long."

Confusion paints his face white, but he refuses to show any fear. He swallows harshly as the doctor continues.

“It would only make sense for you to lash out like how you did. However, I would prefer it if you only kill the people we ask you to, 47.”

“What do you mean, father?” 47 asks, fingers twitching as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s neck. Dread pools in his gut and a feeling of wrongness weighs him down.

Ort-Meyer hums in compilation, and 47 hates like never before. “How you killed your tormentor, 6, after he pushed you too far, of course. How he had bullied you for years upon years until you snapped. How you had fled the facility in fear, thinking that we would punish you for such a deed. However, that is not the case. 47."

His heart hammers within his chest, and fear thrums in his nerves. Why is Ort-Meyer telling him this? Did they kill Six? Did they find him? Bile rises up to his throat.

He flicks the tip of the syringe, examining how the light reflects off of the liquid. “We are impressed by your so-called escape, even at the loss of Six. The thoughtfulness you exhibited when you hid his body, made a fiber wire out of a window sill and broom, oiled the door hinges to prevent them from making noise, and shot the guard dog with a bow and arrow is impressive. We cannot let such talent go to waste.”

‘No,’ 47 thinks, an indescribable feeling of dread washing over him. ‘They found him. They killed him. Six is dead because of me.’ “That’s not what happened, father.” 47 says steadily, but his voice sounds shaky even to him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Ort-Meyer stops behind him, and alarm bells set off deep within him, making him nauseous. “When we’re done here, 47,” Ort-Meyer caresses his head in a mockery of a loving touch, thumbing over the bar code at the back of his head as if he was trying to comfort him. 47 wants to kill him. The prick of a needle at his throat stings for only a moment, and a feeling of numbness settles over him like a scratchy blanket. “It will be.”

--

A shattered mirror lies at the top of a staircase.

The broken pieces jut out like a venus flytrap, and 47 can see the faint traces of blood coating them. 47 stares at himself for a moment, his body broken up and spread through the many pieces.

An angry blue-eyed boy watches him. He blinks, and 47 stares back.

The inside of the building was just as broken down as the outside suggested. Mildew and mold coated the walls, wallpaper torn and spiderwebs crawling along every surface available. 47 stalked forward, following the twisting and turning halls easily as if he knew them like the back of his hand.

The place seemed to be void of any personality: the wallpare a musty green and the flickering lights a sickly yellow, aged with time- yet it gave him this peculiar and inexplicable feeling of home. It sickened him like never before.

His free hand trailed along the decaying walls, something akin to unease settling in the pit of his stomach. There was something about this place that made him want to flee and never look back. It was strange and left him uneasy like never before.

A flickering light beckoned him forward, and shoving everything aside, he followed.

In front of a gaping hole stood Lucas Grey, his silhouette cutting against the harsh light of the afternoon sun. 47 steadied his gun, arm straight and true, yet something made him hesitate.

“You can home.” A haunting voice came from the man, gun in hand. He shifts it so that he held it by the muzzle, turning ever so slightly so he can look 47 in the eye. ”I knew you would.” Grey tosses the gun aside into a puddle, the water rippling for a moment as 47 looks on in muted surprise. “You’ve come a long way, 47. And even now, you don’t remember.”

47 should shoot him down where he stands. He shouldn’t prolong this any longer, but he doesn’t pull the trigger. “This place…” he begins.

“This was our prison.” Grey interrupts, hatred coating his words. He spits the words out like a curse, as if they burned on his tongue. He turns around, and 47’s head pounds. “Where father trained us, shaped us into killers for Providence.”

He stalks forward, gun hand never wavering, but what Grey says next gives him pause. “Now you don’t remember, they ripped it out of you, wiped it away, but I do. I remember everything.”

A hand on his shoulder. A comforting presence. A house yet not a home.

47 shakes his head, finger ghosting the trigger. ”You’re a terrorist with nothing to lose. You’d say anything.” Grey moves to the left, towards the wall, and 47 nearly makes him a smear upon the wall.

The man squats down and digs his fingers into the wall, tearing it away. Two bloodied handprints sit there, and 47’s hand stings in a reminder. The muzzle of the gun is pressed to the back of Lucas’ head as a reminder.

He swallows harshly. “I know it’s difficult. You never miss your mark or question your function. But we made a pact, you and I.”

47 stares at his scarred palm. He had forgone gloves for this mission, and now the matching X on his palm stands out more than ever. Lucas turns, and emotions that 47 can’t catch paint his face. “Do this… we both lose.”

47 remembers little but he knew he was a killer in more ways than one. “There was an incident. That boy… he died by my hands.”

“He lived.” Lucas says, the words dripping out of his mouth like nectar. “Because of you.” He fluidly stands, gray eyes boring into his own, searching frantically. “Don’t you remember his name?” He asks desperately, pressing forward, only stopped by the barrel of a gun kissing his forehead. ”You know this. Deep down, you know. What was his name?”

A forest. A promise. Pain and hope. A brother.

Six.

He raises his gun, hand twitching. “Subject Six. Your name is Subject Six.”

“And what is our purpose?”

Suffering. Experiments. Killing. Flesh tearing anew.

“To destroy them all.”

--

please excuse if the characters are ooc, i haven't written these characters before so i'm still trying to get the hang of writing them. i hope you all enjoyed it! i may write some more on this fandom later on! :)

[a-driftamongopenstars]

too much to ask; cayde & guardian

exploring some personal thoughts about Cayde through my Guardian :) been really looking forward to writing this ficlet! also on ao3

An equal measure of grief and accord settles around the small camp. A few empty bottles of wine sit by a folding chair, the Ghosts are quietly huddling together, giving space to their Guardians. Crow, after giving the Guardian and Cayde a small drowsy smile, has walked away to join Zavala and Ikora as they overlook the endless valley of the Pale Heart, contemplating. 

Cherish finds herself alone with Cayde. He comes to sit on the ground next to her, plucking a grass stem and fixing it in his mouth. 

“They are not very subtle, are they,” Cayde says. “Really want us to talk, huh.”

“Maybe we should.”

“Not to be all Crow-like, but I agree. We do need to talk, something important.”

Cherish looks at him, a curious sideways glance. 

It's been ages since they have shared a moment like this together. Never been good friends, not even as a mentor and mentee. A friction that neither could express or smooth out. But something companionable always tried to bloom between them. Maybe back then, she wasn't ready yet. And he didn’t want to push.

“You've changed,” Cayde says, and her spine crawls with a shiver. He notices and adds, “Hey, that's not a bad thing. If we all stay the same, what kinda world would that be? Change is beautiful. Painful, uncomfortable, but beautiful. And you turned it around. Look at you.”

Pride swells in her chest, tightening. At what cost is a question that hangs in the air. 

“It… wasn't easy. When you died.”

“Straight to the point, I see. Always liked that about you.”

“I mean it, Cayde,” she turns to look at him, meeting eye to eye. “You died, and I was meant to pick up the pieces. Go on a murder spree, stray from everything I've ever known, and when it was all done, I watched a man die - with a part of myself.”

Cayde's bright glowing eyes focus on her. She wants him to feel her desperate pain that still echoes from that time. Her confusion that muddled the thoughts, her headstrong intentions as she scoured the Reef for Uldren and for answers.

“It's a lot to ask of you, I understand.”

“It was expected as it was questioned. If I could become a vigilante overnight, then why couldn't others. And if I didn’t go and become one, then that would have sent the wrong message.”

Cayde sighs and moves a little closer. To her own surprise, she does the same, until their arms touch. And as another surprise, she finds her fingers encrusted with a layer of Stasis ice, crumbling at her notice. 

It's been too long since those thoughts surfaced quite so physically, and she suddenly feels drained. 

“I'm not gonna apologise,” Cayde prefaces, “but I get it. Maybe even more than you think. And I wish you weren't put in that position. And for that, I am sorry. The Vanguard always asks a lot of you.”

For a moment, they are quiet. 

“So… How did that happen?”

“What?”

Cayde glances over to Crow whose back is still turned, his cape softly flowing with the wind. 

Cherish huffs, rolling her eyes, but her lips are already smiling. 

“No, no, I'm not judging. Just curious. You keep giving each other those eyes and I keep wanting to push y’all into a tent and let you get on with it. Still, wonder how that came ‘round. Can't imagine it being all sunshine and rainbows after… Well.”

“Yeah... We did have some monster hunting, some Ascendant Plane racing, having the Traveler’s premonitions, being babysat by Savathun in disguise…”

As she numbers it off on her fingers, Cayde laughs.

“Well hold on there, tiger, not so fast. A who in disguise?”

“Don't tell me Crow didn't update you on that particular situation. He's efficient with his reports.”

“I'm well aware,” Cayde hums. “But I'd like to hear that from you. If you wanna share. Penny for your thoughts?”

Their eyes meet, and for a moment Cherish feels that maybe that camaraderie, long time in the making, can finally happen. She is different, she did change. So did Cayde.

He offers her an empty hand, and she squeezes it, holding on. But somehow, that handshake is worth a hundred thousand pennies - and a small pile of glimmer. 

[not-a-big-slay]

Girl crush

Matt Murdock x gn!reader

‎

I want to taste her lips

Yeah, ‘cause they taste like you

I want to drown myself

In a bottle of her perfume

I want her long blonde hair

I want her magic touch

Yeah ‘cause maybe then

You’d want me just as much

summary: love always finds a way to make you miserable, now it made you fall for a taken man...

type: angst

warnings: mentions of starving (not ED), foggy being the best best friend and it might make you sad you dont have such a good friend irl (def not talking bout me)

A/N: this was inspired by the song girl crush. i wanted to write a fanfic about it, but i didn't know about who. matt murdock takes the cake then :) it's kinda short, but i also love it like that.

He smiled again.

An action that could bring you to your knees. His wide addictive smile fastened your heart beat every time without a fail, though his eyes kicked it hard it almost broke.

The smile isn't meant for you.

It never is. Karen is the one owning his smile, his heart. She owned his everything for a quite long time now and you just wondered when it'll be your turn. Couples should remember the date when they got together, but you liked to keep track of it as well, marking it as the day your heart died.

You met Matt in college. Foggy always talked about him as a best friend and roommate that will "bring the hottest chicks to our room for sure". Because of all this talk, you imagined Murdock as the perfect human being and wanted to meet him as soon as possible out of curiosity. They say first impression matters most and the day you two have met, you definitely made it matter, because you straight up laughed into his face. You couldn't believe that Matt, apparently THE hot roommate that will fill up a college dorm room with attractive women, was blind. However you soon found out how true Foggy's statement was as you slowly began to fall for him every time he talked to you or laughed with you.

Foggy and Matt were inseperable and you loved to watch their friendship evolving, while they welcomed you into their perfect duo. Although your ways parted when you became a private detective and they opened their lawyer firm, your friendship remained and the three of you decided to work together.

You liked Karen. From beginning she was very kind to you and always glad to help the firm or some of your cases. She was fun to be around and you shared a lot of drinks at Josie's, even gossiped about people you both knew. She was the proper girl friend you always wanted. You never blamed her for getting together with Matt, you never mentioned your crush on him in front of her. You never blamed him either. The only person there was to blame was you. And so you did.

Foggy knew, you told him when the frustration of watching the couple all day overwhelmed you and the feelings needed to get out. He comforted you and made fun of you after you were okay, as a good friend does. He also helped you avoid them by making them work in the office while you two were out and vice versa. You would be forever grateful to whatever power is upon the world for crossing paths with Foggy.

Still it was hard seeing them kissing, hugging, touching. Billiards at Josie's were not the same anymore, Nelson and Murdock was now an anxious place for you to be in as you knew what awaits you there. From another person's perspective, nothing changed. Karen was still as friendly and funny as ever, Matt was still talking to you frequently and Foggy still complained about not having enough customers.

Everything stayed the same, only you changed the view at a perfect friendship.

Becoming distant never tasted so deliciously to your soul, being cold never played such a beautiful tone for your ears, but you could never do so. You helped Matt at being the Daredevil with your police resources, you helped Karen take the weight off of her shoulders after a long day and you protected Foggy from becoming the third wheel at work. You couldn't betray them, so your soul starved and your ears ignored while you pushed through.

It didn't matter how long they have been lovers, the sight of them was always new, always surprising, always painful. Your jealousy soon turned into desire. A desire to be Karen, to be close to Matt like her, to be kissing his lips like her, to be touching him like her, to be her. She became your idol and your dreams without her knowledge. You no longer wished for Matt to date you or to kiss you, but to become someone he loves, so he couldn't leave you.

But the smile always set you back to the start line, reminding you that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. You're just there to make him laugh, to help him catch criminals and to cover up for him when he messes up. You're just a friend. Just a help.

Maybe it was just a matter of time, maybe your cup was filled up to the edge, maybe this morning's smile was different, but you couldn't handle it anymore. You couldn't push further, your soul was hungry and your ears found the melody again. That evening you packed your bags, everything you thought important, and took money out of account. You bought a plane ticket, stuffed everything in the car and rejected sleep.

The next morning something made you stop before the office. Your GPS was leading you straight to the airport, but you couldn't press gas again without saying goodbye. You owned it to them. The way up the stairs was harder than ever and the door had to change to concrete over night, but you managed to get inside and look at your friends one last time.

"Y/N?"

Foggy and Karen looked confused, studying every inch of your red face. You looked around, the absence of the white cane screaming at you. Matt's running late. You shifted your gaze back to the lawyer. Sometimes, eye contact is all that is needed. Foggy's eyebrows seperated and his face relaxed with a sigh, he nodded. A clear sign that he understands was all you needed. Without a word you slowly closed the office door, able to hear Karen's worried voice and Foggy's explanation. If the stairs up were hard, down it was impossible. All you wanted was to run up and lock yourself there, yet you knew it would destroy you more than leaving. Outside you looked back at the sign, examining it once again. Nelson and Murdock, avocados at law! Your young laughter rang through your head as your tears wetted the cobblestones underneath. You turned around, walking to your car, hoping this is what doing the right thing feels like.

Before you sat behind the wheel, you saw him. He was just standing, not looking at you, but you knew he felt you. Tears tickled your cheeks, urging you to sit and drive. The two of you just stood, not one of you moving, until the wind screamed in your ear to let go. "I'm sorry." you whispered, watching him to smile softly. A smile finally gifted to you, however it gave you a bitter feeling.

‎

Aware that the last smile he gave you was out of sadness.

You looked away, aware that your eyes saw him for the last time.

‎

[noellefan101]

Heyaaaa, I saw a yandere Genshin blog that writes for ladies and I know what I must do!

Could I see what Yandere Yoimiya's like? Perhaps general headcanons as to how she acts once she's in a relationship with her beloved?? TYSM, I'd love to see what you make of this!!

:3 no real intro cuz im really tired, sry

prob ooc yoimiya, but like extra ooc cuz im too tired to think straight

i wrote most of this at 1 am and the rest in math class

i feel like she would be a very soft yandere, yk not hurting her darling or not even wanting to kidnap (but she would if she thought that you would be more safe like that, will hate so much herself if she ever hurt you)

ofc like any other yandere she would kill for you, but it wont be for dumb reasons like some dude looked at you for 0.1 second, no,

but it'll be more if you really hated your boss or someone dared actually hurt you or say something that really broke you

she is really gentle and sweet, plus she loves to make you new fireworks and just gifts you a lot of things in general, even if you're "just friends"

"[y/n]! there you are, i brought you some of my new fireworks!" she yelled as she ran up to you, her eyes glued to your figure ignoring anything else around her in the process.

"look, arent they going to be pretty!" she said as she showed you her concept drawing for the fireworks, and ided they were pretty, and going to be even prettier when in lit up in the sky

"im sure they are, yoimiya" your smile was so sweet and looked so lovely on you, you were the only thing going trough her mind as she got lost in your eyes.. "uhm yoimiya, you ok?

"h-huh?! o-oh yeah love, uh i mean [y-y/n] i-im fine, uhm, would you uuhh like to see the f-fireworks in action?" her face was so warm it felt like she was burning more then that guy would be right now, what stupid idea he had, he should've never even thought about touching you then she wouldnt be so late to seeing you today and- "yeah of course i want to see the fireworks you made!"her thoguh got cut off with your voice, that beautiful voice...

and also acts like you're the litteral reason she is alive (you are), so if she ever hurt you if even by a tiny scratch she would actually just die inside, and look like she died on the outside

yoimiya

she is really supportive of whatever you do, and if you have like a fashion brand or something it would be the only thing she is willing to wear, or if you work at restaurant she would eat there everytime you have a shift

she would definitely bring you flowers on random occasions and just say it wasnt because of anything special or anything, but it was just because she missed you and really needed to see you or she would've mentally destroyed herself not knowing if you were ok or not

"h-hi, i uhm brought you flowers! y-yeah, flowers i hope you like them i picked them myself" she said giving you a beautiful and big bouquet of your favorite flower, wait did you ever tell her what your favorite flower is?? you dont think so, but you guess it doesnt matter right now, maybe you just forgot you told her (you never told her your favorite flower, yet she knows the exact shade of that flower you like the most).

"awww thank you, yoimiya! i love them!!" you said as you held them close to youer chest, she really wishes she were those flowers right now, all close you. she looked up at your lips, getting cought in the thought of how soft they look and how she so wanted to kiss y-

"y-your w-welcome, i-i just thought t-that you were so pretty that you c-could use some flowers- what! n-no no i-i mean you i uhhh i-i have to go n-now yeah, i-i'll see you l-later" she panicked, what was she saying and in front of you too no no no, what if you thought she was weird now, or what if she went too fast and too far...

"o-oh ok, have a nice day yoimiya! thank you again for the flowers" you waved goodbye with one hand and had the flowers in the other, wondering why she seemed to be running out to the middle of nowhere. she talked so fast you didnt even hear what she said other than a few words which were "you were so pretty", and they left a blush behind that certainly would go away for a few hours or so.

if you lived far away, like not even in inazuma, she would send so many letters to you, even if you didnt know who she was as she just saw you while on the road once and fell so badly in love, its fine you're going to fall for her sooner or later

she would also visit you again and again but that costs a lot of money so she tries to convince you to move in with her, but if thta doesnt work she might actually get frustrated and just drug you and then take you home herself

with that idea still in mind, if she met you while in sumeru and you were a student she still doesnt want to interfere with the things you love (though save some of that love for her pls) so she wouldnt kidnap you but would wait patiently for as long as you need, or promise to take you out to study the things in inazuma instead (she would murder your professer if they said no and that you should stay in the akademiya, abselutely)

"how are you doing this week? i know i send you a lot of letters but i just had to when i found out where you lived so i didnt have to travel so much as it costs quite a bit. but its worth it if it means i can see you every so often, as you are slowly becoming the reason i exist, i would love to hear about everything you have done in your life, big or small. please think about visiting inazuma soon, i would love to show you around all the different regions, shops and more. i also learned what proper love is now because of you, and i think it indeed is you, as i cant find anything that i love and adore more than you.

i also picked some fireworks out for you, they are from my personal collection and are very pretty, just like you, i would love to get your feedback on them and would happily make you a thousand more if you want me to. i will also make different ones if you get bored of the ones youcurrently have

please keep yourself safe

Your Love-Yoimiya"

attached to the letter is a few too many fireworks, and some inazuman snacks and accessories too, she doesnt seem to be very wealthy yet has bought you what looks like a diamond necklace and a very pretty ring.

would absolutely cook you meals throughout the day, she'll cook you anything you want for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but she also makes sure you're healthy and checks in on you every few hours to make sure you drink enough too

if you're really depressed, she would make sure you had your meds for it and stuff, would also hand feed you everything. she calls it that because she hates using the word force but yes, she forces you to eat and will not take no for an answer

almost killed your doctor when the meds stop working, but then found out later that its completly normal and its not the doctor trying to kill you (you saved a life that day, multible even)

*knock knock* "oh, my love, i found you! here's your lunch for the day, i used some of the leftovers from yesterday, i really hope you like. oh i also got you your favorite snack right here, and then remember to drink your water too." she left with a kiss to your cheek and blew you an extra kiss before closing the door to your room again.

she wasnt lying when she said you would fall inlove with her at soem point, as you were certainly beginning to fall down deep in the hole that is Yoimiya.

she loves to hug you when around you in general, but loves to kiss you cheek when she feels like you've been away from her for too long. would never actually kiss your lips, altough she wants to, you have to give her permission first and then she might if she still has the confidence

she becomes a literal puddle when you just as much as touch her cheek, yes she has to touch you every second you are near her, but its different when its you doing anything!!!

she thinks you're a god, and in her eyes you are, doesnt matter how ugly you think you are or how weak you actually are. she will worship you so much you would think every 'imperfection' you have is prettier than ever.

she looked into your eyes as she lays in your lap, the sky is pretty, and that was what she thought she would be looking at the whole time, but it seems she made other plans. your eyes are just too captivating, too pretty, and too- her thoughts cut off as she felt your hand play with her loose hair, as she had put it down just as you started to ask her the question.

your hands were soft, and felt nice in her hair. she could lay here forever if it meant you were going to be here and stroke her hair like this, she's sure her pops wouldn't mind if she feel asleep for just a little longer, and she definitely could when she is laying on her darling.

"yoimiya? oh, you're awake, how as your na-" "you look divine" she cut you off as she just stared up at you like you were the god of beauty, like you were the god of her heart, and maybe you were, but to her it wasnt even a maybe. "y-you think so? dont i just look messy? or ugly? i dont think i even brushed my hair today" she looked up at you with a questioning look in her eyes

"no how dare you even think that, you look divine, beautiful, pretty, majestic, lovely, attractive, god-like, charming-" she stopped when you held a hand over her mouth, she wanted to kiss it so badly... "ok ok, i-i get it, i look pretty to you" your face was red, really red, and it looked cute she thinks, very cute indeed. she should make you blush more often so she can see more of your beauty that is only for her too see.

she had an even bigger smile on for the next week and no one knew why, but she normally smiles a lot so they didnt question her. though she would have happily answered with a long rant about you.

when you two actually started dating she would have a constant blush on her face for the next month or smt, she just cant believe you would actually date her, i mean you were just so perfect in every way, and then theres her what do you even see in her, do you even see anything in her?

but its fine if you dont, she wont let you leave anyway, she cant lose you not now, not ever. you are hers and hers alone, and you know she will make sure it stays that way, even if it costs her verything else. you will be hers, and she will be yours.

i uhh didnt just give you general headcanos heh, your welcome??? wtf is going on with me rn

im so single that being kidnapped by a hot person doesnt sound bad at all, like take me PLEASE... *cough cough* thank u for reading pls kidnap me, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[e-the-village-cryptid]

From the WIPs ask, what is the "hotel razor scene"?

(you and @a-flickering-soul both asked about this one so i will write it all here)

(content warning for mildly graphic suicidal ideation)

so. I made the unfortunate decision to reread 1984 at the same time as I was going through peak Andor hyperfixation last year and they all got tossed in the blender together. and I began thinking. so first off what if Bix worked at the Rix Hotel as a second job after her parents died and before she began smuggling, because she needed a way to make ends meet. and so she actually knew some of the staff (who we know were kept on to serve the Imperials, and who would also have likely been the ones tasked with bringing Bix food and generally keeping her alive)

and as I said this is the result of Andor 1984 brain tornado blendering so what if. as the days become weeks and Bix grows weaker and the pain and misery begin to seem unending, she and her hotel friend begin to believe there is only one way out. and he can offer it to her. a tiny razorblade, hidden beneath a piece of bread. she knows it would be useless against the guards, as if she could even stand to attack them. no, there's only one way to escape. she's stashed the blade under her mattress— they stopped bothering to search her room on day 2— and touches it whenever she dares, feeling the comfort in its sharp edges, in the promise it holds, or perhaps just the fantasy. she imagines drawing it across the largest artery in her neck. she wonders how long it would take. short enough for it to be too late, she thinks. she hopes. she doesn't do it. she touches it and imagines and she doesn't do it. it's an obsession and a comfort; the knowledge of her way out makes the torment a bit easier to bear. she could hold on for one more day if she has the option to end it tomorrow. and one more day. and one more day. and one more day. she's not sure how many one more days she has left in her. her fingers reach for the cold steel yet again— when just out the window, the faint heartbeat sound of a bass drum meets her ears.

oops i think the headcanon explanation accidentally became fanfic somewhere in there but here's an actual excerpt from the wip lmao

A knock on the door snapped the room back into focus, somehow succeeding where Bix's best efforts had failed. There was only one person in this building courteous enough to actually knock, but adrenaline still flooded Bix's veins, setting her heart pounding faster than the clanging cacophony of an alarm call in the streets of Ferrix. The omnipresent ringing in her ears reached a fever pitch, almost blocking out the hiss of the door as it opened. It was only him. She tried to still her shaking limbs. She wished she could remember his name. He'd been working at the hotel for decades, had been a friend to her back when she was a runner here in the evenings, years ago. Why couldn't she remember his name? He was the only one who would look her in the eyes now, out of the rotation of employees sent to bring her food. He looked at her like she was human. It almost made her believe it herself. She hated that she couldn't remember his name. He was saying something to her, lips barely moving, his back carefully turned to block the security camera as he set the tray down next to her. She wanted to tell him she couldn't hear, she didn't understand, but only the barest exhale escaped her lips when she tried to speak. Perhaps he understood anyway— he made a minute gesture towards the stale-looking bread as he stood up, looking at her with an intense expression she couldn't quite place. Pleading? Sympathy? Grief?

(sorry to excerpt so much, you see i also had to make sure all the stuff about my "bix has hearing loss and tinnitus now" headcanon made it in there too, very important)

anyway I imagine that after she gets out she keeps the little blade almost as a comfort, gets a little case and hides it in her braid, just for the security of knowing that they will never take her alive again.

thank you both for asking!!!

[copiousloverofcopia]

Better late than never with some content for the Goore Whores!!!!!

Here is the next chapter of Under the Spell with Mary Goore and OC Piper!

Thank you to everyone who is patient with me. I recently got a promotion at work, and it comes with a lot of new training and responsibility... so I am doing my best to bring you all some content. I really appreciate all the love, support, and the patience from you all!

Also once again, please be nice I am SO not used to writing for Mary, so I hope its ok!

Also thank you to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the awesome dividers.

Piper and Mary have been best friends since they first met as children. When Mary and her boyfriend Sid asked her to come along on gigs, Piper thought it was a no-brainer. But as the excitement of the buzzing amps dies down, she realizes she wants more—now if only she can get him to agree.

Chapter 5: REPUGNANT

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

The hum of the amp sent shivers down his spine. Mary, feeling the thrill as he heard the crowd roaring. Walking out on stage for the second half of their show. His eyes were only able to make out a vague suggestion of bodies, hidden within the sea of light that shone on the stage. He felt amazing, ready, and most importantly—alive. 

Though he lived for the stage, he found himself distracted. Absentmindedly biting his lip and occasionally forgetting the lyrics, though no one seemed to care. His mind was too obsessed with the memories of the night before. Fixated on the feel of Piper’s mouth, crashing into his. The warmth from her tears, felt as they dripped down over her cheeks. 

The two of them, coming completely undone in each other’s arms until sunrise. Enraptured by the way they felt for one another. The physical attraction and the unspoken emotions between them tighter and tighter. Binding them together as they managed to fuck the night away.  

He could still feel her hands on the top of his head. Running her fingers through his hair as he held open her thighs. Devouring her, tasting the blood so sweet on his lips. Listening to the click of her tongue ring as he glided across her teeth. 

Though Piper had tried her best to stay quiet in the bathroom, she couldn’t help but moan and mewl with his touch. Mary, finding even more arousing that others at the party might hear them. Hear how good he was making her feel as he drenched his face in her juices and blood. Mercilessly eating her out until she came for him—over and over again. 

By the time Mary had had his fill, Piper was barely able to stand. Bent her over the sink as he slid his desperate cock inside her. Thrusting away—fucking her senseless as their eyes lingered on one another’s face in the mirror. Mary felt his mouth watering even now at the memory of it—how tight her cunt was as he came. Spilling himself inside her—kissing and biting her along her neck. Leaving splotches of blood in his wake. Both of them, looking like a pair of satisfied vampiric lovers, spattered and spent, as the sun met the horizon of the sky.  

Not many people had wondered where they’d run off too. The two of them stumbling, out of Tom’s friend's bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. Long after everyone else had left, making their way back to the hotel before ultimately passing out. Both of them woke up, hours later, in their separate rooms. Neither one of them, giving away to the other’s what had really  happened the night before. 

Piper had woken up that next day, covered in her own blood. Wondering to herself how things had gone so far. Sure she was already having sex with him, but that was different. For a purpose. Wasn’t it? Thinking to herself that despite how much she may want it, there was nothing real between them. 

By the time the band’s gig was on that night, neither had spoken a word to one another. Both, however, stealing a number of glances during rehearsal. Each of them explaining it away as coincidence—something other than what it was. Mary and Piper were falling in love, like it or not things had changed forever between them and there was nothing that could be done.

For Mary it was perfect madness. While he started off a bit apprehensive, now he wanted more than ever to be with her. To give her everything she wanted—especially the baby. Finding himself more and more excited to be a part of the family they were desperately trying to create. He didn’t want to be just a friend, some sperm with a bit of time on his hands, to help her own. No he, to his surprise, was ready to be a real father.

The thought of them creating a little Pipes or a mini him filled Mary with a sense of content he’d never felt before. Imagining them, running around and causing chaos, in between him teaching them to play guitar. All of it filled his soul with renewed purpose. Finding himself warmth watching Piper smile, wondering if their child would share it. That same smile that managed to rip his heart right out of his chest. What a beautiful, bloody mess they had made between them. 

Mary knew that they’d try again as long as Piper would have him. Though he doubted she’d turn him down now. He started to wonder when they should tell the rest of the guys in the band. After all, it would only be a short time before Piper would get pregnant if he had anything to say about it. Something that couldn’t be held secret for very long. Mary deciding that now he was ready to move forward—to tell Piper how he truly felt. 

When the show was done, Piper was sitting alone as she waited for Mary. Her legs, hanging over the stage while she wrapped up some cords to keep herself looking busy. Hoping to seem unbothered, though her mind was absolutely spinning. Completely unaware that Mary had been watching her from behind the stage. 

“Hey, you all almost done?” Yulan, the old headbanger of a manager, asked as he came towards her. The bar, now completely empty and quiet—everyone else having long gone. Before Piper could respond, Mary chimed in. Surprising her as he manifested from within the shadows to meet with them out on the stage.

“Yeah, we’re good. Be out in a few. Ok?” Mary said, coming up to stand beside Piper. She looked up at him, his face and body still covered in sweat and smears of paint as he held out his hand for her to take.

“Yeah, we are...pretty much done.” Piper agreed, without glancing away from him. 

“Alright… well I’m locking up in front. So you got 20 minutes before I lock the two of you inside.” the old man chuckled. Piper finally took Mary’s hand and got pulled up onto her feet. The two of them, staring at one another for a moment before Mary spoke.  

“You know what's funny?” he asked, Piper looking confused at the question. Still a bit embarrassed as she recalled what had occurred the night before. 

“What’s that?”

“The last time you waited for me on stage, you asked me to put a baby in you.” he laughed, Piper’s face turning blood red.

“I–-who said I was waiting for you?” she asked, giving him a swat to the chest. Mary couldn’t help himself from laughing as he brought his hand up and placed it where she struck him. Finding it funny as he felt the sting, just how much she excited him. 

“Ouch.”

“You big baby.” Piper said, shrugging him off as Mary’s face changed. The goofy smile turned more serious. His eyes softening towards her again as she felt her heart beating faster in her chest as she waited for what it was he would say.

“...baby…Pipes…ah when…when is the next time we can—-” Mary asked, choosing to not finish the sentence when he caught sight of Sid and Tom heading out the front door. Hoping they wouldn’t be overheard. 

“Oh…oh. Not for a couple of weeks.” Piper blushed. Mary was unable to hold back his look of disappointment. Piper instantly on edge as she looked at him. Why that face, is he…is he really upset , Piper asked herself. “Is that ok?” she asked him.

“That's fine…heh…heh…Just trying to plan ahead.” Mary laughed, scratching the back of his head and pretending to be casual about it.

“Mare, you have never planned ahead in your life.” Piper said, laughing back at him. 

“Well. I’m planning for this.” he assured her, closing the space between them. Piper found herself blinking. Wondering if she had imagined the change in him. The change in the way he looked at her. Hints of longing—or mistaken lust for love. Wishing she could know what he was really thinking. 

Mary felt breathless. Taking in Piper’s beauty, her dark circles and smeared eyeliner from the night, only adding to her appeal. He wanted so badly to kiss her, to tell her that regardless of how things might turn out with agreement between them, she was now his. He couldn’t help but bite at his lower lip, ready now to confess how he truly felt. 

Ready to tell her how he’d give her the world or burn it down—whichever she’d desire. Bringing his hand up to caress her face. Cradling her jawline as he inched towards a kiss. Both of their eyes closed, ready to give way.

“Hey you two coming?” Tom yelled from the doorway. Thrilled he’d managed to find the two of them before they left for the hotel. Mary and Piper both, looking over at him in surprise, wondering how much he had heard—or seen. 

“Be right there!” Mary called back, smiling at Piper before grabbing what was left of the equipment. Both of them heading out the door without saying another word. 

The hotel bed sheets felt too cold, Piper thought to herself as she laid wide awake. Her eyes fixed on the empty spot beside her. Wishing that Mary had come back with her to the room. Cursing Tom for having the nerve to show himself and interrupting the moment. Hoping there was something more going on—something still left unsaid. 

She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before deciding to give up. Throwing on an oversized Repugnant tee and some jeans before walking to a nearby coffee shop. Forgoing the free sludge they had in the hotel lobby, in favor of something that tasted rich and bold. Feeling she deserved to treat herself while trying her best to stay awake for the day. Hoping to find a moment of solace to think.  

When she walked inside, she saw the shop was rather full. Piper, smiling once the woman at the front nodded at her. Acknowledging that she’d seen her come in before pointing to the small set of stairs that led up to an additional seating area. Ascending the steps until, to her surprise, she saw Tom and Annie sitting towards the back.

Before Piper could sneak off, she saw Annie waving her at her. Calling her over to join them when all Piper wanted to do was be alone. Feigning a smile as she forced herself to approach them. Taking a seat beside Annie, rubbing her tired eyes beneath her glasses and brushing back her unwashed mess of hair. 

As usual, Annie was put together. Her hair swooped up into a ponytail, donning a mini skirt and an off the shoulder white top. Her makeup, already done even at that early hour. Tom was his usual self—long scraggly blonde locks draped down under a baseball cap and wearing his favorite jean vest. 

The two of them, looking a bit out of place together. Tom however, despite his appearance, was the more mature of the two. Annie rested her head on Piper’s shoulders, letting out a sigh as she rejoiced in seeing her. Tom on the other hand seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

“Something wrong, Bones?” Piper asked him, watching him take a sip from his cup of coffee.  

“Not really.” he said his tone quite as the waitress came to take Piper’s order. Her mouthwatering with anticipation of the French vanilla blend. Piper knew something was up, Annie was acting a bit nervous once Tom spoke and the air between them had changed from how it was just the night before. 

“Unlikely…seriously, what is it?” Piper asked. Tom set his cup down, taking in a deep breath. The act of which set Piper on edge. Something serious was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I think you’re making a huge mistake.” he blurted out. Annie’s face, looking as if it had been set on fire. It was clear that she had told Tom everything. 

“I see.” was all Piper could say. Tom, looking over to her with his eyebrows furred and a glint of anger in his eyes. 

“Is that all you can say?” 

“I don’t know what it is you think I am supposed to say Tom.” Piper barked back, Annie watching them in stark silence.

“You can’t have a kid with Mary.”

“Why not?” Piper growled. 

“What about Sid?” he asked her, hoping to avoid saying what he really wanted.

“Sid is no longer in the picture. I don’t intend on making the same mistake twice.”

“Oh but you’ll do this?” Tom snapped. 

“Tom, baby please…” Annie began before he cut her off. Annie mouthing an “I’m sorry” at Piper.

“No, she needs to know.”

“Know what?” Piper asked him. Tom’s anger turned to sadness. 

“If you and him have a kid…what do you think is going to happen to Repugnant?” he asked her. The words hit like a scorching flame—burning her ears and heart.

“Nothing is going to happen to it. I am not part of the band Tom. I’m just a glorified roadie. Mare will go on being with you all, I’m the one who will be taking off when the time comes.” Piper began when Tom began having a chuckle. Amused at her ignorance. 

“You really think that’s how it’s gonna go don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The second that baby is inside you, the man will NEVER leave your side. Don’t you get it Piper?” he asked, Piper felt as if her lungs wouldn’t fill with air.

“Tom…” Annie tried once more when he continued, Piper staring down at the table. Trying her best not to cry in front of them.

“Piper, he had feelings for you.” Tom explained, the words making Piper gasp. Looking over to him in shock.

“No… that’s not true. We are just friends, that’s it. He’s doing this to help me. I want this baby Tom. It was my idea… not Mary’s. He is just along for the ride.  

“Piper don’t be stupid. The rest of the band might not see it but I do. The way he looks at you gives it away every time. What do you think he will do when you get pregnant? Just let you run off with his child and be content to see you on the off weeks or months of time passing between visits? You gotta be outta your fucking mind if you think that’s what will happen.

“You’re wrong.” Piper cried, no longer able to hold back how she was feeling. Cursing her hormones for making her even more emotional and sensitive to Tom’s harsh—yet honest comments. 

“You get pregnant and he will have to choose between his dream. Touring with the band, making records, becoming famous—all of it and you. Choose between making something of himself and getting what he has always wanted and giving you a baby. You’re being selfish.” Tom continued, realizing that his last statement had taken things a bit too far. 

Piper swallowed back the tears. Wiping harshly at her eyes, leaving them red and sore as she stood up from her chair. She clenched her teeth, wanting to scream and holler at him. Not caring at all that they were in public. 

Stopping herself only because deep down she felt he was right. Sniffling back as she looked over to Annie and then back to Tom. Ready to leave the shop and never look back. Tears began to stream down her face as the two of them locked eyes. 

“Fuck you.” she told him, her voice trembling and low. Tom and Annie left alone at the table as Piper made her way back out onto the street. The pain inside her heart, unbearable. 

Mary had gone looking for Tom, wanting to get some advice on how to move things forward with Piper. A smile spread wide across his face as he left the hotel and headed to the little coffee shop Tom asked to meet that morning. Stopping only when he saw Piper coming from the front door. Her face, sullen and eyes shot red. 

She looked upset, more upset than he could ever recall seeing her. Running across the street with no regard for traffic. Heading the opposite direction of the hotel before Tom and Annie came running out after her. Piper, having disappeared around the corner as they caught sight of Mary across the street. 

“What is going on?” Mary asked them as they met with him on the sidewalk, “His eyes fixed on the corner from where he last saw Piper. 

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about…I know about this thing between you.” Tom confessed, Annie almost hiding behind him. Ashamed she’d said anything now seeing what her slip of the tongue had caused. 

“Thing?” Mary asked, almost aloof to Tom at all as he pondered chasing after Piper.

“The baby thing, Mary, I told her that it was a bad idea. You don’t need all that shit looming over you. If Piper wants to be a mom, I told her she needed to find better options than trying to take you down with her. 

“You did what?” Mary hissed, turning back to face Tom with fury burning in his eyes. His heart pounding and his fist clenching up as he wanted so badly to punch him. Only seconds later, deciding to forgo the confrontation and find Piper. 

“Forget it Tom, think what you want but I’m outta here.” Mary told him, running down the street. Hoping that it wasn’t too late to undo the damage. Hoping to confess to Piper how he really felt.

[umbracirrus]

I am sat here, at... Just gone 5am... feeling all tired and stressed because I've got so much going on both in relation to university over the coming weeks (with my last deadline for this year being 10th/11th December) so I'm not sure how frequently I'm going to be able to actually write or anything in the meantime!

And, in the realisation that yesterday was Wednesday, I'm going to share what may possibly be my last WIP until after uni has died down for the year 💛 I'll obviously be on here still, just not so much on a creative capacity.

I'm not sure if I've posted this snippet before, no doubt I probably have, but pfft. Too tired to check. Wanna share it anyway. I've been sitting on it for a while, but nonetheless I love it (even if this version has been edited a teensy little bit to remove references to a future plot point for The Perfect Storm!)

----

“It looks wonderful out here tonight...” Elyse whispered, hands gripping onto the wooden railing of the balcony as she stared up at the skies with awe across her features. “I spent most of my life hearing from my mother just how beautiful the Skyrim night sky was. I’ve lived here for about four years now, and every time I look up at night and there are no clouds, it’s just as incredible as the first time I saw it.”

Balgruuf nodded at her observation, though in all fairness, he was looking at a different sight entirely. He was too busy looking at her... The way in which her hair had fallen loose from behind the ear closest to him, which had him wanting to tuck it back to where it had been. The sparkle in her eyes as she took in the sight of the aurora. The slight flush across her cheeks from the wine.

Divines, she was... Beautiful. Moreso than the night sky. And just looking at her as she was made him feel... something. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Elyse let out a quiet sigh, then slowly moved to lean against him. It took him aback for a moment, though it didn’t take him long to move his arm to behind her back.

He could envision spending the rest if his life like this. With her.

He also couldn’t help but move his other hand just to tuck that stay strand of hair back to behind her ear before long, though his hand lingered as she turned to look at him. Knuckles lightly brushed against the skin of her cheek, trailed across her jaw, and even with that slight motion, he could feel the warmth radiating off her. He didn’t notice her own hand reach up to his until their fingers touched, but rather than pull him away, she took his hand into her own.

There were far too many words which he wanted to say. Needed to. But little noise came from him as he opened his mouth – all he managed was a whisper of her name.

In an action which was perhaps more succinct than his attempt at vocalising his thoughts and emotions, he tilted his head down so that their foreheads were touching, lips barely an inch apart as the hand which was being held by hers broke free from her warmth and came to rest on her waist. She was the one who closed the distance though, the faintest taste of the wine from earlier lingering on her lips.