#and about the grunt i met in the cave who told me about his dead mother right before i met the ghost of *my* mother

[formleadsfunction]

Pokémon Rejuvenation is making me experience shrimp emotions

[littlest-w01f]

Heartburn

Sylus x MC

SYLUS MASTERLIST

FULL FANFICTION SUBMISSION FOR where drakeshadows fall contest

WORDCOUNT: 5K+

Summary: Finding an injured dragon out in the dead caves of Tarus City, doesn't end in the way MC quite imagined

Cw: Elements of fluff and angst, annoyed strangers to lovers? Not really *enemies* enemies

Heartburn

-A burning sensation in the central chest or upper central abdomen.

Rumours had long circulated about the fabled dragon beast who once called the crumbling spires of Tarus City their home, but most believed them to be more than a myth. Until now.

The ancient stone walls seemed to whisper as MC cautiously ventured deeper into the forgotten keep. Dust motes danced in the slanted beams of sunlight filtering through narrow windows high above. She ran a hand along the weathered battlements, imagining the grandeur this place must have held centuries ago, when it was more than just ruins.

With the heart of an explorer and hunter, MC had found herself miles away from her home village to the remote fields of the city. Suddenly, a faint rustling echoed from a cave ahead, sounding like wings, and a man's grunting, causing MC to freeze. Her pulse quickened as she drew her dagger, its worn leather handle fitting comfortably in her grip.

As the eerie sounds grew louder, MC crept closer to the cave entrance, her senses heightened. The air inside carried a pungent scent of sulfur and the metallic tang of blood. With each cautious step, the ground beneath her boots crunched under layers of dust and debris.

Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed before her, blocking out the dim light filtering in from behind. MC's breath caught in her throat as she beheld the fearsome creature emerging from the darkness - a dragon like those she had seen and heard told of only in tales. Its scales glistened like polished obsidian, beside the humanoid face and body, horns growing from his silver hair, reflecting the faint illumination in an otherworldly sheen.

He growled when his crimson eyes met hers, pushing himself on his forearms, the muscles in his arms tensing, that's when MC noticed that he was injured. The smell of blood was coming from him, and his tail, scaled, held a deep gash in it.

Sylus' gaze locked onto MC, piercing and intense. A low rumble emanated from his chest, almost a warning, yet there was something else in those fiery eyes, a flicker of pain, perhaps even desperation. His movements were laboured, each push of his forearms against the earth leaving trails of sweat and dirt marring his otherwise pristine form. "Did you do this?" He demanded, eyes on the dagger MC was holding, "You humans and your weapons. You could never keep up with us..." He seemed too angry to continue what he wished to say and let out a rough growl that nearly shook the cave.

MC stood frozen, her mind racing to comprehend the situation unfolding before her. This magnificent being, clearly a dragon from her books, spoke with a velvety tongue, albeit one laced with venomous disdain. The anger radiating from Sylus was palpable, his words cutting through the thick air like a blade.

She slowly lowered her dagger, keeping it at the ready should hostilities escalate further. "No, I didn't attack you," MC replied calmly, trying to soothe the volatile situation. "I'm not here to hunt." She was a hunter, but she doubted the dragon would like to hear that.

Sylus looked up at her, and with a single blink, his crimson eyes softened, "Will you help me then?"

A glimmer of surprise crossed MC's face at the sudden shift in Sylus' demeanour. She hesitated for a moment, weighing her options carefully. The last thing she expected was to encounter a wounded dragon seeking aid.

"I... Suppose so," MC said finally, taking a tentative step closer. "But first, tell me why you're here, and how did you get hurt?" She kept her voice gentle, sensing the fragility of the sudden truce between them. As she neared, the extent of Sylus's injuries became clearer, the gash on his tail, it didn't appear too big or deep, but he was losing blood, the pallor of his skin, and the laboured rise and fall of his chest. It was clear this mighty creature needed assistance, and fast.

In front of her eyes, the dragon's tail healed, and MC found herself losing her balance, she felt claws at her head, banging her against the cave rocks. "I can stink a liar from a mile away!" He hissed, his tail curling around him, pointing at her temple, going down her cheeks, to her throat.

Panic set in as Sylus' talons dug into MC's skin. His hot breath washed over her, reeking of smoke and making her dizzy. She tried to struggle, but the dragon's hold was unyielding, his grip tightening around her slender neck.

"You tried to deceive me," Sylus growled, his voice a menacing hiss close to her ear. "Humans are all the same – sneaky, manipulative. I knew better than to trust one."

Realization dawned on MC as the pieces fell into place, that she in fact had been the one to hurt him. The flamed arrowhead she'd tested earlier, the one that had flown wildly off target, that is why she probably smelled like it to the beast. It must have struck Sylus, wounding him gravely on his tail. The memory of her carelessness hit her like a punch to the gut.

"No, wait! Please listen," MC pleaded, her voice strained as Sylus' claws constricted around her throat. "It wasn't intentional! I was testing a new weapon and lost control. I never meant to harm you."

Sylus' grip loosened slightly at MC's desperate plea, his burning gaze searching her face for any hint of deception. After a tense moment, he released her completely, allowing her to slump back against the rocky wall, gasping for air as he roared. "SO IT WAS YOU!"

"Why would I believe you now after your deceit? You are a liar-" Sylus growled, his tone still heavy with suspicion. MC, out of fright, shut her eyes, keeping them closed but the dragon's claw never came to cut her into pieces, only a frustrated growl came as she felt her own hand lifted.

An enchanted golden hue hummed softly against their skin, pulsing with an otherworldly energy, joining their wrists together. MC opened her eyes wide, staring at the cuff in shock and dismay.

Bound together. Chained to a dragon. MC couldn't believe herself, through the screaming she had done with Sylus, he had taken off, carrying her with him, through the skies. Fear surged through her as Sylus flew like MC was an annoying bug he was trying to get off him.

The wind whipped past MC's face, stinging her eyes and tugging at her hair as they soared through the clouds. She clung desperately to Sylus' scaly side, her knuckles white where they gripped him frantically. The world below dwindled to a patchwork of greens and browns, growing smaller with each passing second.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" She shouted over the roar of the wind, her voice barely audible. But her words fell on deaf ears as Sylus continued his relentless flight, the enchanted cuff binding them tighter with every passing second.

Sylus said nothing, he just began to dip, as if he were testing the grip of what bound them together, while MC couldn't help but pray that the link between them didn't disappear as fast as it had appeared

Sylus' descent was steep and swift, sending MC's stomach plummeting into her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never came. Instead, the dragon levelled out, hovering mere feet above the dense canopy of a lush forest. Towering trees stretched towards the sky, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze created by their passage.

With a powerful beat of his wings, Sylus landed gracefully among the branches, the impact jolting MC hard against his side. For a moment, they hung suspended, swaying slightly in the treetop embrace before the dragon shifted, settling them both onto a sturdy branch.

MC opened her eyes, blinking away the lingering spots of light, and took in their surroundings. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. "You!" She rasped out, even though the word held no bite, "How could-" She spoke through heavy breaths, "How-" Sylus watched in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest, forcing her closer through their link, as MC simply reached for her dagger, her legs quivering from the flight. "YOU!"

Sylus chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the magical bond connecting them. He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, his warm breath washing over her skin. "You think a little thing like a dagger will protect you from me now?" He taunted, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief.

MC's heart raced, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the hilt of her weapon. But before she could draw it, Sylus' hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist in a vice-like grip. With a deft twist, he pried the dagger free and tossed it aside, the blade clattering uselessly to the forest floor far below.

MC's eyes widened in horror as she watched her dagger fall, the weight of its loss sinking in. She struggled against Sylus' iron grasp, but it was futile. His strength was immense, and the magical cuff ensured she couldn't break free.

"Let me go!" She demanded, her voice rising in desperation. "This isn't over!"

Sylus merely smirked, his expression unrepentant. "Oh, but it is," he said, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You're mine now, human. All tied to me." He pulled at their bond to punctuate his words, "What's going to happen now? Perhaps I'll keep you like my treasure." He taunted.

With those ominous words, he pulled MC flush against his chest, the heat of his scales seeping through the thin fabric of her clothing. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a reminder of the power that now controlled her fate.

"Is this what keeps you alive?" MC pulled another dagger from her bodice, pressing it against the red gem that made the center of his chest.

MC's eyes locked onto the crimson gem, her finger poised to plunge the dagger home. But Sylus' counter move caught her off guard, his claw finding her heart over her chest with uncanny precision. The hot scales of his claw met the warmth of her skin, a feeling that sent shivers down her spine.

Sylus almost seemed impressed with her. "Is this what keeps you alive?" He asked in return. His claw then rested over her chest, right over where her heart was. their bound wrists meeting in the middle.

The implication hung heavy in the air, leaving MC feeling vulnerable and exposed. She could hardly breathe, her lungs constricting under the pressure of his gaze and the physical restraint, yet she refused to back her dagger down. The dragon's presence seemed to fill the entire clearing, dwarfing everything else until it was just the two of them, bound by magic and circumstance.

Slowly, deliberately, Sylus tilted his head, bringing his face closer to hers, horns brushing her head. "I could devour you and there will be nothing left of you. But if you kill me, you'll have to carry the deadweight along. And who knows how long it takes for a human to starve to death, dangling from a tree?"

MC felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew he was toying with her, enjoying the power dynamic that favoured him. Sylus' words dripped with cruel amusement, his fiery gaze boring into MC's very soul. He could see the fear and uncertainty swirling in her eyes, the way her body trembled beneath his touch. It was intoxicating, knowing he held such control over her.

"You're playing a dangerous game, treasure," He warned, his claw applying gentle pressure to her chest, a silent threat, the nickname a taunt. "But I suppose I can appreciate the spirit."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "Tell you what, treasure. I'll make you a deal. Keep that dagger sheathed, and I might just let you live... For a while longer, anyway." As they stood close, something like heartburn spread through his chest.

MC's heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that echoed the turmoil within her. She swallowed hard, her mind racing to process the gravity of the situation. She was at the mercy of this dragon, forced to be with him till she could be free. The best she could do was find a way to stay alive.

"I understand" She managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of surprise crossed Sylus' face at MC's acquiescence, but it was quickly replaced by a smug grin. "Good girl." He purred, his claw slowly retracting from her chest.

It had been days, nearly a week that MC was bound with the dragon, Sylus, in that time, they had learned each other's names, and that was enough for the two despite being linked to each other.

These days had passed since that fateful day when Sylus and MC had been chained to each other's sides. In that time, they had grown accustomed to each other's presence, learning to navigate the complexities of their unlikely bond.

At first, the silence between them had been oppressive, the only sound was the rush of wind and the occasional snort from the dragon, the random mentioning of his treasury, how he had collected the best things from the entire continent. Growls and groans from them when they had tried to share a bed for the first time, But gradually, they had begun to speak, exchanging small talk about their lives before the cuff had brought them together.

They had decided to stay at his cave, since MC couldn't possibly return home with a dragon as her hip, and had convinced Sylus to take her out into the fields once a day so she wouldn't feel cooped up. Sylus had stopped hissing at MC for ruining his first few hunts while they were trying to work around being bound, they had gone hungry those nights, and MC still was yet to hear the end of it.

MC found herself growing more comfortable in Sylus' presence. Gone were the initial jitters and fearful thoughts. Now, she could sit beside him in silence without feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.

Their conversations, though infrequent, had become more natural. They would discuss the weather, the taste of the food they hunted, or the peculiarities of the landscapes they traversed. Occasionally, MC would regale Sylus with tales from her homeland, and he would listen intently, his crimson eyes glinting with curiosity.

Despite their growing rapport, sleep remained a challenge for both MC and Sylus, all because of their different sleep schedules, while MC slept at night, Sylus chose to rest in the morning. The physical proximity required by the enchanted cuff meant they often found themselves tangled together during their sleep, their bodies reacting instinctively to each other's warmth and scent.

MC would wake up to find herself shoved down the bed, Sylus' grumbling sound telling her that she had been draped across his chest, but whenever her face nestled in the crook of his neck, his scales provided a soothing counterpoint to her soft skin. The dragon, too, would occasionally stir in his sleep, his claws gently kneading her stomach as he settled into a deeper slumber, horns digging into her cheek, but MC wasn't quite able to shove the giant dragon off her, so she would retalisate with a stab at his back, and watch fascinated and annoyed as he healed, not carrying enough to wake up.

These entanglements often led to brief, restless skirmishes as they adjusted to each other's presence. Grunts and muffled curses would punctuate the caves those times, followed by periods of tense quiet as they regained their composure.

MC discovered that beneath Sylus' gruff exterior lay a dry sense of humour and keen intelligence. He regaled her with tales of his kind, of ancient battles fought and won, of hidden treasures and forgotten lore. In turn, she shared stories of her own world, of the village she hailed from and the adventures she had wanted to embark upon.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the landscape, Sylus settled down on a rocky outcropping. MC sat beside him, her legs tucked under her as she gazed out at the vast expanse of wilderness stretching before them.

"So, tell me more about these ancient battles you have fought," MC prompted, her curiosity piqued by the tales Sylus had shared earlier. "What drove you to clash with the others?"

Sylus chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into MC's arm, which rested against him. "Ah, the eternal conflicts of our kind. Mostly, it was a struggle for dominance, for the right to rule over the skies and land alike, command the respect of all lesser creatures."

Sylus' eyes gleamed with a mix of nostalgia and pride as he spoke of his people's history. "We dragons were fiercely independent, but we also crave recognition and admiration. In the old days, a dragon's strength and cunning were the ultimate measures of worth."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "Of course, there were also disputes over territory, resources, and the... Romantic... Affections of certain folk." A scowl played on his lips at the mention of the latter. "Not that I am ever driven by such... Human... Emotions of love, or fear, or any really."

MC couldn't help but chuckle at Sylus' haughty declaration. "Oh really? Then why did you seem so bothered when I accidentally ruined your hunt a few weeks ago?" She cocked her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I mean, I've seen you sulk like a child denied a treat ever since. It was just a rabbit. That's an emotion, sulking, being angry and all. Disappointed."

"That was merely a minor setback," He growled, his voice taking on a defensive tone. "It is not my fault that your clumsy interference disrupted my well-planned strategy."

Despite his protests, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, betraying his true feelings. "Besides, I suppose even a mighty dragon such as myself can appreciate a bit of... Company... On occasion." His gaze drifted to MC, and for a fleeting instant, something almost akin to affection flickered in his eyes before he looked away, clearing his throat. "However annoying as it may be."

Intrigued by the intricate markings on Sylus' palm, MC reached out tentatively, her fingers hovering just above his scaled skin. The dragon's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, but he made no move to stop her exploration. "May I?"

Sylus raised his brow, "What are you going to do? Read my hand like I'm some human?"

MC nodded, "Yes. I used to read my friends'. I could do it for you too."

With a slight smirk, Sylus extended his hand further, allowing MC to examine the intricate patterns etched into his palm. "Very well, little human. Go ahead and try to decipher the secrets of a dragon's destiny if you wish."

As MC's fingers brushed against his scales, Sylus felt a strange tingling sensation, as if the simple contact had awakened dormant nerve endings, giving him heartburn again, making him clear his throat hoping that would soothe the ache. He watched her closely, intrigued by her curiosity and the delicate way she explored his hand.

"What do you see?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Do the lines foretell great triumphs for me?"

"Well, this one," She traced a line on the inside of his claw, "Represents how old you will grow. This one, when you will find love." Sylus snorted at that but didn't interrupt much, then MC traced a different line, "And this shows your wealth and fortune." She looked up at him, "You already have that stolen, right?" She hummed, Sylus had wanted to throw her in his treasury, on the piles of gold, diamonds and rare gems, but that made it quite impossible without him staying there too, given their linkage.

When MC stroked a scar, Sylus spoke up, "Those are not lines, treasure." His tone teased, "That's a scar from a battle won."

"Oh," MC then hummed, "Well, then this one means you are powerful."

Sylus shook his head, "Now you are just making things up."

"So, this one doesn't mean you're beautiful?" She traced another scale, the bold statement out before she could stop herself.

Sylus let out a deep, rumbling laugh, clearly amused by MC's playful attempts to interpret his palm markings. "No, little human, that particular scale simply indicates the location of a particularly stubborn patch of scale on my claw."

His teasing words were laced with warmth, and MC could sense a genuine fondness beneath his gruff exterior. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well, I think you're beautiful regardless," She said softly, her fingers lingering on his scales.

Sylus' laughter subsided, replaced by a contemplative silence. His chest was targeted with pains again. He looked away from MC, hating the twist in his chest.

Flying with Sylus was different now. He carried MC in his arms, soaring through the skies. For the first time, MC let herself see down the fields and not be scared of the height. She knew Sylus wouldn't drop her, not that he could with their link still intact.

As they flew, Sylus marvelled at the change in MC. Her initial terror had given way to wonder and exhilaration, her face alight with joy as she took in the breathtaking views unfolding below them. The trust she placed in him, despite everything, stirred something deep within the dragon's ancient heart. She trusted him, the thought left his chest tightened.

He tightened his grip slightly, pulling her closer against his chest as a particularly strong gust buffeted them. "Hold tight, treasure," he rumbled, his breath ruffling her hair. "The winds can be unpredictable at this altitude."

MC nodded, pressing herself more firmly into Sylus' embrace. She could feel the powerful play of muscles beneath his scales as he navigated the currents, each beat of his massive wings carrying them higher, faster. The sensation was exhilarating, almost addictive.

The wind made her ears close up, the feeling instead of scaring her made her laugh. Sylus heard the delightful sound of MC's laughter carried on the wind, mingling with the rush of air past their faces. It warmed his heart like no battle glory or hoarded treasure ever could. He felt a strange urge to protect this fragile, beautiful creature at all costs, to ensure her happiness above all else.

All of a sudden, their moment was broken by MC slipping out of Sylus' grasp, their link broken as MC began to freefall from the sky, her laughter cut off abruptly by a startled scream. Time seemed to slow as Sylus watched, horror-stricken, his precious cargo plummeting towards the unforgiving earth below. The broken link left him confused, too taken aback to intervene, chest burning as he felt his massive wings would be unable to reach her in time.

With a roar of anguish, Sylus dove after MC, his claws extended in a desperate bid to catch her. But the gap between them only widened, the wind tearing at his scales as he hurtled downwards. The landscape rushed up to meet them, a blur of green and brown.

Just as all hope seemed lost, Sylus managed to snag MC's arm with his talons, barely slowing her fall. He pulled up back into the sky, holding MC close to him as he regained his equilibrium. Once airborne again, Sylus gazed down at MC with a mixture of relief and concern etched across his features. She clung to him tightly, eyes wide with shock.

"Are you alright, treasure?" He asked, his voice low and soothing, tail coiled around her waist to hold her close to him. "Did you suffer any injuries during the fall?" Cupping her cheeks, he looked for any injuries.

MC breathed heavily, gripping his biceps hard, she was shaking slightly. She looked up at him, and a smile formed on her lips, "You like me-" She chuckled, her voice almost singing the words, laughter bubbling in her throat.

"I..." Sylus scoffed, his eyes locked onto hers, a tumult of emotions swirling within the depths of his irises. There was fear, worry, relief, but also something deeper, something he hadn't expected to feel for a human. A certain warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward, making his scales tingle. "I do... Not."

"Yes. I do not. I could drop you now on purpose and will not care." His tail softened around her waist, as if he would drop her, but at the same time, his arms tightened around her.

"I think you're lying," MC teased, poking Sylus' chest lightly. "Besides, if you really wanted to drop me, you would have done so already. If you wanted me gone you wouldn't have tried to hard to catch me."

She leaned back, looking up at him. Her eyes were bright, sparkling with mischief. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your secret affection for me, Sylus." Her tone was playful, yet there was an undertone of genuine concern.

Sylus' eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling in his throat at MC's teasing words, at his name on her lips. "You presume much, little human," He rumbled, his voice a mix of warning and reluctant amusement. "My actions are my own, not some declaration of affection." With that, he set MC down in the fields.

Sylus and MC exchanged a glance, both reaching out to touch the empty space where their link once resided, wrists free. The realization hit them simultaneously. Their unique connection had vanished without a trace.

After a few moments of silence, MC spoke up, "Are... Are we free now?" The words weren't as certain as she wanted them to be. A few days ago, she would've been thankful that the golden link between them was broken, but now, she wasn't so sure anymore

She glanced up at Sylus, her expression uncertain, searching for reassurance. "What happens now? Will we part ways and never see each other again?"

Sylus' gaze lingered on her, a complex mix of emotions playing across his features. Regret, perhaps, but also a hint of relief. He had grown accustomed to having her by his side, even if their circumstances were full of distant before.

"We will find our paths," He said finally, his voice measured. "You will return to your people, and I will resume my duties here." The words sounded final, but the way he avoided meeting her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

"I have to go back." MC nodded slowly, accepting his statement even as doubts niggled at the edges of her mind. "But, I don't have to leave today itself..." She shrugged, a gentle smile forming on her lips.

Sylus' eyes widened slightly at her words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he schooled his expression into a neutral mask. "Is that so?" He rumbled, his tone cautious. "And what, pray tell, is keeping you here?"

MC's smile grew wider, a mischievous glint entering her eye. "Oh, just the prospect of spending more time with a certain dragon who claims not to care for me," She replied, her voice light and teasing. She reached out to brush a scale of Sylus' cheek, her fingers lingering on his warm skin. Sylus' nostrils flared, his breath catching in his throat at the intimate touch.

MC curiously moved where she sat all of a sudden, "Are… Are those dandelions?" She spoke, eyes trailing on a few little flowers.

Sylus' gaze followed MC's pointing finger, and indeed, amidst the rugged terrain, a few lone dandelions stood tall, their delicate small petals swaying gently in the breeze. "How... Unusual," He murmured, tilting his head in contemplation. "Flora is scarce here, especially something as benign as a weed."

Intrigued, Sylus shifted his body, and reached out a clawed hand towards the dandelions. With surprising gentleness, he plucked one of the flowers, bringing it closer to examine. The fine golden hairs on its stem caught the fading sunlight, casting a warm glow.

Now that he held the flower, he was unsure of what to do with it, "Would you like to hold it, human?" He said before he could stop himself.

MC was surprised by Sylus' offer, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. For a moment, she simply stared at the dragon, her mind racing to process this gesture. Slowly, hesitantly, she extended her hand, allowing Sylus to place the delicate dandelion in her palm. "Thank you, Sylus."

As soon as her fingers closed around the stem, a gentle puff of wind carried a few loose seeds drifting lazily through the air. MC watched, transfixed, as they danced and twirled, eventually settling on her shoulder and hair. A soft, wistful sigh escaped her lips.

"You know, back home, dandelions symbolize wishes and hope," She murmured, her gaze lingering on the tiny white tufts clinging to her dark locks. "People make a wish when they blow on the seeds, believing they'll carry their dreams far away."

Sylus found himself smiling, "Well, do you want to make a wish?" He rested against a nearby boulder, paying her his full attention.

A tender, nostalgic look crossed MC's face as she recalled the carefree childhood of her village. "I used to love doing that," She reminisced, her voice tinged with a bittersweet fondness. "Making wishes on dandelions, chasing fireflies at dusk, playing hide-and-behind among the wildflowers and bushes..."

Her thoughts drifted further, to the simple joys she'd left behind in pursuit of adventure and freedom. A faint melancholy coloured her expression, but it was quickly replaced by a determined spark in her eyes. She closed her eyes, making her wish she blew on the flower.

"That sounds lovely, treasure." He murmured, taking a seat right beside her, making her smile. The term wasn't fully mocking anymore, like he owned her, but it almost sounded like... Endearment

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the rolling hills, Sylus and MC sat together in comfortable silence. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had surrounded them mere moments before.

MC closed her eyes, savouring the peaceful moment. The weight of her responsibilities, the constant need to prove herself, seemed to melt away in the presence of nature's serenity. When she opened her eyes again, she found Sylus watching her intently, his expression unreadable in the fading light. "Youuu like me-" She rested her head against his shoulder.

"Whatever makes you believe that, treasure." He shook his head, his long tail swishing the air and thumping gently against MC's back like a pendulum. Despite his nonchalant tone, Sylus couldn't help but relax further into the grassy terrain, his body language betraying a sense of contentment. He wrapped his tail more snugly around MC, providing a comforting warmth that seemed to seep into her very bones.

The steady beat of his tail against her set MC to sleep, with a sigh, she curled around her lap. Sylus tensed at the way she rested on his lap, the sight of her like that made his heart too heavy, feel too much. His chest started burning again. Heartburn. He felt it again.

Something like fear chilled through Sylus' bones at the thought of never feeling this full again, at his heart, never feeling like his heart was about to stop like this. MC would leave, probably never return, how would he be man enough to deserve her? Could he ever be more than a monster feared, hated and hunted by the rest of the villages? He wasn't really sure. But she had called him beautiful. And that was good enough for him.

Wetness brimmed his eyes, he gasped, trying to stay quiet so he wouldn't disturb her, the heartburn was making him feel, fear, it was fear, so much fear.

Tears pricked at the corners of Sylus' eyes, threatening to spill over. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the moisture, but it only seemed to intensify the sensation. The lump in his throat grew, making it difficult to draw breath.

MC stirred slightly in her sleep, nuzzling closer to Sylus' lap. Even in her sleep, she sought comfort in his presence, unaware of the turmoil brewing within him. Her trust in him, her acceptance despite everything, it was a weight he didn't know how to bear.

With a shuddering exhale, Sylus surrendered to the overwhelming emotions, letting the tears flow freely down his scaled cheeks, the liquid evaporating with how his cheeks were burning. He held MC tighter with his tail, wrapping a wing around her, as if afraid she might disappear if he let go, even for a moment.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he felt his chest impossibly tightened. Heartburn, he would call it. Until he wasn't so scared to call it love.

Love. The word echoed in Sylus' mind, resonating deeply within his chest. It was foreign, yet familiar, terrifying, yet exhilarating. He had never allowed himself to consider such feelings, not after what he had become. But here, at this moment, with MC safe in his embrace, he couldn't deny it any longer.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the storm of emotions to subside, but they only intensified, swirling within him like a maelstrom. Fear, longing, hope - all tangled together in a mess of uncertainty.

Sylus' sobs were silent, save for the occasional hitch in his breathing. He buried his face in the crook of MC's neck, his hot tears soaking into her hair as he struggled to contain the depth of his emotions.

His tail, usually so strong and confident, now trembled with vulnerability. It wrapped protectively around MC, as if to shield her from the intensity of his feelings. Each ragged breath he took seemed to shake his entire being, his body quivering with the force of his pent-up longing.

For a long while, he simply held her, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the tidal wave of sentimentality. It was a release he had denied himself for far too long, a catharsis born from the profound connection he shared with the girl in his arms.

Heartburn. Yes, he would call it heartburn for now.

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[cyn-write]

The Little Cecelia - Chapter 1: Friends

Summary - Every 100 years, the spirit of the Great Seven and their Rival return. Sometimes, they attempt to right the wrongs of the past, get revenge, or relive the same story, but it all is the same - only one spirit gets their Happily Ever After. Azul has always had a fascination with the human world, which only intensified once he met a human girl, Grace Trien. His desires to become a Great Mage of both Land and Sea and to explore the human world and all its wonders with the Tweels and Grace by his side, but Prince Rielle is willing to do what ever it takes to stop the little Cecelia from getting his Happy Ending.

Masterlist - Next

Pairing - Azul Ashengrotto x F!Oc (Grace Trein)

Tags/Warnings - Friends to Lovers; Bullying; Grace is Trein's Daughter; Angst -> Fluff; Self-Deperication

Notes - I have been working on this for a very long time, and I hope you enjoy it! Grace Trein is based off my Oc Grace Wilde so if you want to learn more about her click the link, but you can replace her name when reading if you want to read it as Yuu or another name. This is only the first chapter of 11, so if you enjoy this and want to be tagged or have questions, please let me know! This is also on Ao3 if you want to follow it over there. Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Without Further Ado: Once Upon a Time.....

Every Merchild was told from a young age how dangerous the humans were. Parents, Teachers, Elders all told tales of the vicious humans who slaughtered merfolk by the dozens and the clever traps they would use to ensnare merfolk for prizes. Landfolk were all described as hideous creatures fascinated with lifeless contraptions. They were monsters… or so the stories said.

Despite the fear, some dared to have a fascination with the beings above. Azul has always had a fascination with the landfolk and their contraptions but stayed away from the shore out of fear. But sometimes, greater forces led people to face their fears. Forces named Rielle.

Azul was minding his own business, studying a new trinket he found that morning while the twins were off hunting for lunch. It was a triangle with a rounded bottom and a cone on the top that made things look closer when peered though. It had an engraving on the side of an odd creature with four legs and fins sprouting from its back. As he looked through the cone at some fish, he failed to notice the Merprince and his gang readying their rocks.

“HEY OCTOTWERP! CATCH!” Called the red-haired prince as he signaled the attack. Azul jumped from his spot and felt the first of the rocks hit is tentacles. He accidentally inked as he swam away as fast as his tentacles could propel him. “GET HIM!”

On the princes’ orders, the merchild brigade chased him away from the reef and towards forbidden waters.

“JADE! FLOYD! HELP!!” He called out, but the eel twins were nowhere in sight. He looked for another way out, but he was surrounded. He passed the ship graveyard, the kept forest, the rock grove. He could feel his tentacles strain to keep up the pace and all three of his hearts beating at record speed, but the tyrannical prince would not give in until he saw Azul crying and crippled.

“Come on Azul think.” He grunted as he weaved through jagged rocks. Then he saw the sea floor start to incline and a dangerous idea came to mind. Rumor has it that there is a cave that use to be the home of a long-dead exiled Sea Witch and all rumors had a grain of truth. As the rocks got bigger, he saw the carcasses of sharks and whales and knew he was getting close.

“Rielle! He’s heading towards the shore!” He heard Rielle’s right-hand, a flounder named Florence call out.

“Then hurry up you guppy! Don’t let fatso escape!” Rielle called back; his voice was getting closer.

Azul scanned his surroundings and saw it, a small opening underneath a whale head. He darted for the bones and heard the bullies change direction after him. In a last stitch effort to lose his pursuers, he took a deep breath, concentrated, and squeezed himself into the hole. It was a tight fit, but he made it. As he shimmied through, some of his tentacles loosened rocks that blocked the entrance, stopping his pursuers and trapping him in the process. The hole grew larger, and he let himself stop and hide.

He hid in the larger hole and listened.

“Florence! Get out of the way! I’ll blast my way in!” Rielle called.

Just as Azul prepared to face his death, he heard the distinct voices of his saviors “In where, Princie~”

“TWEEELS!” Florence shrieked in fear.

“We playing a game here?” Jade asked.

“Oooo~ I wanna play!” Floyd retorted and all Azul could hear was chaos.

“Your highness, we need to leave! This place is way too close for comfort.” Another of the prince’s posse, Sebet if Azul was correct, said. “Besides, they’re doomed anyway, let’s leave them for the fishermen. We can play with Azul later. He has to come back sometime.”

“Fine.” Rielle sounded annoyed then decided to shout, “YA HEAR THAT AZUL! SHOW YOUR FAT FACE IN ATLANTICA AGAIN AND WE’LL GETCHA! INKING WILL BE THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS!”

“YA! WELL NEXT TIME WE SEE YUR FACE OUTTA ALENTICA WELL BE SNACKING ON PRINCIE!” Floyd called back.

Azul heard the group laugh as they swam away.

“Azul, are you in there?” Jade called.

“Yeah, I think I’m stuck…” Azul called back, choking on his words from crying.

“Hold on Zul! We’ll get ya outa there!” Floyd called, “I think there’s another entrance over there!”

“Azul, we’ll be right back!” Jade said before the two swam away.

Azul waited a few minutes before letting himself take a deep breath. A few tears escaped his eyes as he realized his doom. He was stuck in a cave. He couldn’t get out. The twins would get bored of helping him soon enough. And if he went back home, the prince and his school were waiting for him.

‘Would mom look for me?’ He thought as more tears streamed from his blue eyes, ‘She probably thinks I’m dead anyway…she’ll just try again with dad and forget I ever existed.’

His tentacles curled in on themselves as he cried. No wonder the other fry picked on him, he was just a crybaby, that’s all he’ll ever be.

Then one of his tentacles hit something… a vial. He looked up from his spot as his tentacle picked up the object. It was thin, made of glass with a cork keeping some green stuff in it. Then another hit a different object, a rounder, thicker glass container holding a powdery substance. Ever curious, Azul moved forward and saw more vials. Somewhat intact and held different substances while others were broken and had the contents spewed around them. The deeper he went; he saw more things covered in moss with age. Then he entered a larger opening, what must be the main room. In the center was a caldron overturned and around it was different objects.

‘The stories were true… this is the witch’s layer!’ Azul’s mood quickly turned from despair to joy. “I can’t believe it! I’m in The Sea Witch’s layer!”

For once he was thankful for his tentacles as he explored the cavern. He looked into different rooms and saw bedrooms, a kitchen, storerooms and the most wonderful library! In the library there where rows upon rows of spell books. He took some off and skimmed the contents. There where books for beauty potions, translations spells, identification incantations, and even transmutation! He was pulling different books then found a peculiar one titled “Cecelia: A History.” Out of curiosity he pulled it, and the shelf began to move.

A new, hidden tunnel appeared. It was dark and lead straight up, so being the curious creature he is, he went up. His amazement pushed his caution to the side as he began to think about what could be up there: magical artifacts, forbidden spell books, long dead secrets! But instead, it led to the surface. He saw the end of the water and paused. He had never broken to the surface before… but what could be up there? He was already here, might as well take a peek.

He took a deep breath and slowly lifted his head above the water. What he saw amazed him: another living space. It was almost exactly like the one below with a cauldron in the center and a smaller set of shelves behind it filled with things. To the side was a makeshift kitchen, a bedroom, and a sitting room with furniture made from the brown, rough material sunken ships were made of. After determining that the land was also deserted, he rose higher and got the courage to climb onto the land. His tentacles moved on the dry land pretty easily and adjusted to the sudden pressure quickly. After determining it was safe, he let his curiosity take over. He rushed over to the shelves and looked at the different books and objects. He picked them up and read the different titles, some were spell books, but others were books on human society. He made a mental note to read them later after he explored some more. Then he saw a necklace. A beautiful shell necklace that seemed to glow slightly. As his hand brushed the shell, then he heard a noise.

Crying, someone was crying. He darted back to the water out of fear and hid under the waves. ‘Someone’s here… I thought this place was aban- wait… that sounds like its coming from over there…’ He swam towards a second entrance to this place. It was vertical and there was a light coming from the other side. He went through the tunnel and saw the sand make a sharp incline up. ‘The Shore!’

The crying got louder and through the water he saw a small figure. ‘Leave! GO! This is Dangerous!’ part of him screamed in his brain, but the other part recognized that crying. It was a cry of loneliness. He clenched his fist and took another deep breath “Kept it.” He told himself then rose to peer out of the water. He peaked his eyes out of the water but that was all he needed to see the most beautiful being he has ever seen: A human girl.

She looked to be around his age, skin the color of white sand, golden hair like waves fell over her shoulders and hid her face. She had on a cloth thing in a pink color more vibrate than he had ever seen with a matching ribbon in her hair. He could see her legs, thin things that had the oddest fins attached to them with thinner tentacles on the end of them. Her legs were pulled into her chest with her arms keeping them close. He had been in that position many times before. Her sobs echoed in the cavern and made his heart hurt. Next to her was a brown basket made of the same particular material that the furniture was made of. Inside it were books and cloth wrapped objects.

He watched her for a moment and a part of him wanted to swim closer. Subconsciously, a single tentacle stretches close to the girl, and it wasn’t until he saw the black limb creeping up to her legs that he noticed. He wrenched the tentacle back and it caused a splash.

“Who’s there!” The girl looked up quicker than he could sink down. Their eyes locked in that moment, and he was stunned. Vibrant green orbs starred back at him. Filled a familiar sensation that he knew all too well: loneliness.

He has no clue how long they stayed like that. Staring at each other unsure what to do. She was the one to break the silence. “Woah… you’re a.. A mermaid!”

She moved closer and Azul sunk down into the depths, his rational brain telling him to flee.

“Wait! I-I won’t hurt you! Please don’t go!” He heard her call. He saw her legs running towards him in the water and he backed-up terrified. He was about to run, but what she said next would be the words that changed Azul’s life forever: “Please… I-I just want a friend…”

‘Run… Run…’ He thought, then his pesky hearts got in the way, ‘She’s just like me…I’m already dead anyway.’

He turned around and saw her lower half in the water. The fabric moving with the waves and pale legs firmly planted in the sand. He closed his eyes and slowly rose above the water. Her eyes shined and looked over him not in fear and disgust, but amazement and wonder.

“H-hi…” She said and smiled at him. She smiled at him. Then held out her hand, “I’m Grace…Grace Trein, what’s your name?”

She looked so soft and squishy. He reached out his hand tentatively, but his nerves got the best of him and backed away. She could see his hesitation and lifted both of her hands palms out, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise, see.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled. He was still nervous and didn’t move towards her but did speak up.

“a-azul” he said in a quiet voice.

“Azul? That’s a pretty name!” He could feel her eyes studying him and prepared himself for the hurtful comments on his weight. But she instead pointed to something in the water, “Is that a Sexton!”

He looked down and saw he still had the weird contraption that got him in this mess. He lifted it and repeated the name, “Sex-ton?”

“Yeah! Sailors use it to navigate!” She stepped closer and he moved back. She noticed this and stepped back as well, “May I see it?” She stretched her hand out palm up. He saw a silver bracelet on her arm that caught his eye. She saw this and took it off, “Wanna trade for a bit? I promise i’ll give it back!”

Curiosity won and two black tentacles moved towards her hand, and one held the sexton. He quickly took the silver bracelet and dropped the sexton into her hand before she could comment. He took the bracelet from his tentacle and examined the silver base and blue jewels embedded in it.

“Wow! You’re an Oct-mer!” She said, “That is so cool!”

He was not prepared for the comment and a blue blush crept onto his face. He was shocked to say the least, “Cecelia…”

“huh?” Grace tilted her head and repeated the word, “Cecelia… is that the proper name?”

Azul nodded and kept his head down. “Yeah…”

“Cecelia… That is really pretty, I like it!” Her face glowed as she spoke, all happy and joyful. It was completely different from the face she had when he arrived. She looked at the sexton and moved it around in her hands, then lifted it up and looked through it. The curiosity in her eyes made Azul want to ask her questions like ‘where is she from? Why was she in the cave? How did she find it? Why are you being nice to me? What do you want from me? Are you just being nice to my face or to lure me into a trap?’ but he kept his mouth shut and went back to examining the bracelet. It was very beautiful and simple in design, but even more interesting was the writing on the underside of the bracelet: Grace – Our precious pearl Love Mama and Papa. He ran his hand along the writing and felt the indents swirl with the letters.

Grace broke his concentration, “I was just reading about this!” He looked up and saw her walk to the shore with his trinket.

“h-hey! That’s m-mine!” He swam forward a bit as he feared she would run off with the sexton!

Grace quickly turned around and subdued his nerves “I won’t take it, I’m just grabbing my book!” She took out a green book from her basket and sat on the shore, “come here! I wanna show you something!”

“u-um…” Azul bit his lower lip before gathering his courage. This was going against every bone in his body, but he swam to the shore, “Ok.” The dry sand felt weird on his skin, but he made it over and peered at the book.

On the page was a four-legged creature with wings, the same creature that was on the sexton. “It’s called a Pegasus! They are magical creatures from when the great seven lived.” She said and tilted the book as if telling him to take it. He took it gingerly and felt his hand brush against hers as it transferred. His curiosity took over and he started to read the passage next to the picture. “According to the book, The Hero Hercules had a Pegasus who helped him on his adventures. I was reading about it for lessons today!” She was really close to him, and he could feel her clothes brush against his skin as she held up the Saxton. “Papa says that the Gods rearranged the stars so Hercules and his Pegasus’ could watch over humanity for the rest of time.”

“Stars?” Azul asked and turned his head to look at her, only then realizing that their heads were so close. Their noses almost touched, and she looked into his eyes directly.

“Yeah! The bright dots in the sky at night!” She says and points out to the opening of the cave, then her expression changed to one of confusion and realization, “You have never seen the stars. Have you?”

Azul shook his head and held his breath. ‘She is so close to me. Why is she so close to me. Whyisshesocloseto-’

GRRRRR.

Azul’s train of thought were interrupted by his stomach. His round belly grumbled so loudly that it echoed in the cave and Azul felt his heart sank. He froze in embarrassment. He was making progress with the girl and his stomach is going to ruin every-

“Are you hungry? I have sandwiches!” Grace turned to her basket and pulled out the cloth wrapped thing. She removed the cloth and handed him a dry sandwich. It looked like the sandwiches his mom sold at her restaurant, but instead of kelp it had a sponge, beige looking holding the contents together. He looked at her in surprise and pointed to himself.

“Y-you’re giving it to me?” He said surprised.

“Well yeah,” She took out half of the sandwich, “I have other snacks to if you don’t like sandwiches, Mrs. Hellen aways packs extra so I have chips, apples, juice, and some cookies!” She held out more food and he just looked at her in shock.

“You’re not going to make fun of me?” He asks quietly. This question made her smile fall and eyebrows knit together.

“Why would I do that?” She said, she shoulders slumped a bit and she looked down, “Being made fun of hurts more than being pushed downstairs, I don’t wanna do that to anyone.”

The glint came back. The watery gaze, strained voice, tense body, the pain… it is all too familiar to Azul. “People do that to you too?” Azul asked.

“Worse, brothers.” Grace said, “Anthony and Danny always make fun of me. They say I talk too much, or ask too many questions, or am too ugly to be a girl, or make fun of me for not having magic, or worse…” Tears started to form in her eyes. She hugged herself with the food still in her hand, “Ever since we moved here, its gotten worse. Mama and Papa use to step in and tell them to stop, but Mama isn’t here anymore, Papa is always working, and the servants don’t do anything… probably because they agree with them. Eli tries to step in, but he is too little to understand.” She then shakes her head and wipes her eyes away with her forearm, “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much, its not proper for a lady to talk so much-”

“Nonono! Me too!” Azul gestures to himself, “I mean- I like hearing you talk! People back home bullied me all the time! They say I talk to much a-and call me a nerd too! B-but they also call me fat and ugly, w-which is true for me but not in your case you're really pretty-but anyway! I get it! Bullies hurt…” Azul fidgeted his fingers and tentacles as he spoke and looked down at the ground, scared to look into her eyes.

There was a tense silence for a moment and Azul thought he blew it with his new potential friend, “…you think I’m pretty?” He looked up and her face was red, she was blushing so hard and looked at him in surprise.

“Y-yeah… you are…” He was really nervous as they were still close.

Grace loosened her grip on herself and the poor sandwiches and a small smile graced her lips, “Well… I think your pretty cute,” She looked up and him and their eyes met yet again. “And, I have never seen a mermaid in real life before, but after talking to you, I think Cecelia are cooler than regular mermaids.” She held out half of the sandwich and her smile changed from small to big in a genuine manner. And a weird thing happened, her smiling made Azul want to smile. The only people who have ever made Azul smile just by them smiling were the tweels. He feels a weird draw towards her, like a string pulling them together. It was a similar tug he felt with the tweels, but something about it was different.

Grace handed Azul half of the sandwich and he took it. But before taking a bite, she raised her half. “Friends?”

Azul felt his hearts beat faster. He was in shock; ‘Sh-she wants to be friends with m-me? Th-this never happens! I have a Friend! A new human friend! That means I have THREE friends!!’ “Friends!”

“Friends?” “FRIENDS!!” Two teal heads suddenly leaped out of the water.

In the shallows of the cave water were Jade and Floyd in matching sharp tooth grins.

Azul felt panic rise in his chest as the two swam closer and crawl onto the sand. Grace jumped with half a sandwich hanging out of her mouth. “moareyou?” She said with her mouth full.

Azul’s arms and tentacles were moving frantically, “nononono, please don’t freak out, they are my friends,” Grace took the sandwich out of her mouth and relaxed her shoulders a bit. “T-this is Jade and Floyd, they a-are my friends, and I guess your friends now too since you’re my friend, i-if that’s how this thing works right?” As he spoke his tentacles moved to exclaim his point.

Grace looked back and forth between Azul and the twin’s and her apprehension turned to a smile, “I-I have three friends, I HAVE THREE FRIENDS!” She was as excited as Floyd was. Her hair and bow bounced as she jumped. Her eyes sparkled and she tackled Azul in a hug. “THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! YOU’RE THE BEST!!!!”

Azul stood there stunned. Her arms around him and she was thanking him for friends. She moved on to hug the twins, but all Azul could think about was her arms around him and her eyes glowing in excitement.

“YAY!” Grace tackle-hugged Floyd and the two fell in the water. Jade chuckled at the sight and beached himself on the shore.

“Seems like you helped yourself Azul,” Jade commented and plucked some of the treats out of Grace’s basket, “You even found food.”

“Seems so,” Azul replied as Grace and Floyd got out of the water.

Grace squeezed the water out of her dress and hair, Azul couldn’t take his eyes off her and it made Jade’s smile grow sharp, “A human girl… interesting,” He hummed.

Azul turned to Jade and quirked his brow, “What do you mean by that?”

Jade shook his head as Grace came over to hug him, “Nothing, just interesting.”

Azul would not understand what Jade noted until years later. On that summer’s day, Azul’s life changed. He found an abandoned grotto he now called home, he started to seriously study magic alongside the tweels using the books and artifacts now at their disposal, and met Grace Trein, a girl who would help him conquer both land and sea.

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Tag List: @twistedcece @thisisafish123

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[staysaneathome]

Take Your Place in the Spotlight

[CLICK]

THE ARCHIVIST: Right. All in order here. And this is still working—

THE ARCHIVIST: Oh. Hello, you.

[FAINT CHIRP OF GREETING.]

[FABRIC RUSTLES AS THE ARCHIVIST CHUCKLES FONDLY.]

THE ARCHIVIST: Alright, alright, good morning, I’m happy to see you too. Are you going on a walk with Martin this afternoon? Try to make friends with the cows again?

[A WORRIED GRUMBLE, MUFFLED BY FABRIC.]

THE ARCHIVIST: [CONCILIATORY RUMBLE] Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll warm up to you soon. Just…maybe don’t get so close to the fence next time?

[A POUTY WHINE. MORE FABRIC RUSTLES AND A DULL THUD]

THE ARCHIVIST: C’mon Robbie, get up off the floor. C’mon, now—

[MUFFLED PROTEST. THE ARCHIVIST GIVES A GRUNT OF EXERTION.]

MARTIN: What’s going on here?

[A MOMENT OF SILENCE.]

THE ARCHIVIST: Nothing!

[BRIGHT CHIRP OF AGREEMENT]

MARTIN: [BARELY STIFLED AMUSEMENT] Suuure. Whatever you two say.

[A GENTLE WELCOMING CROON. FABRIC RUSTLES IN TIME WITH A HAPPY, SLIGHTLY STRAINED SQUEAK. IT RUSTLES AGAIN AS THE ARCHIVIST HUMS CONTENTEDLY. A TWO PART HARMONY.]

MARTIN: Mmf. Weather says a storm might be rolling in soon. If we want to go for a walk and give Jon some privacy, we’ll need to set off now if we don’t want to get caught in the downpour.

THE ARCHIVIST: Oh. I, I could wait—?

MARTIN: [FOND EXASPERATION, AN UNDERCURRENT OF I LOVE YOU IN EVERY WORD] Hardly. You’re looking peaky enough. We’ll give you some privacy, maybe jump in some puddles, be back in time for tea.

[MUCH CLEARER EXCLAMATION OF EXCITEMENT. POUNDING FOOTSTEPS, THEN THE SOUND OF SOMEONE STRUGGLING TO PULL ON A PAIR OF RUBBER WELLIES AND RAINCOAT AT THE SAME TIME.]

THE ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED EXHALE] Let me know if you see any good cows.

MARTIN: [DELIGHTED HUM] Obviously we’ll tell you if we see any good cows. C’mon Robbie!

[A FAREWELL CHIRRUP AS FOOTSTEPS WALK AWAY. THE ARCHIVIST CHUCKLES QUIETLY AND FONDLY TO HIMSELF. THEN HE EXHALES, AND AS THE DOOR CLOSES, HE SCRABBLES AT THE STATEMENT ON THE TABLE, GETTING EVERYTHING IN ORDER.]

THE ARCHIVIST: Right. Well then.

THE ARCHIVIST: Statement of Robbie…ah…Robbie Blackwood, regarding their abduction by the Stranger and Training for the Circus of the Other. Statement transcribed November 5th, 2018 by Archival Assistant Martin Blackwood and recorded by the Archivist November 8th, 2018. Statement begins:

Dear Brother,

How are you? Are you doing well? Have you got to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream a lot after dinner recently? I hope you have.

I’m doing okay. I haven’t met any more monsters since the old witch with the puzzles tried to eat me, and I got to see Singin’ In The Rain again. The cinema also did this other film called Steamboat Bill Jr. which I liked a lot, even if it had no colors. Nobody talked in it, like me.

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. I read this book, and it was an adventure story, with these kids who get powers to turn into animals and turn back again. I wonder if you would like it. It seems like it’d be fun.

But they fight these enemies. These things called “Yeerks” that go inside people and make them not them anymore. The original person is dead and their body is puppeted around, and nobody except certain people knows that it’s not the real person anymore.

And I think I know them. The Yeerks I mean. Not the kids. They seemed cool though.

I think I need to tell you what happened to me. Or the person who used to be me.

Because I’m not a person. Not anymore.

Memory is hard for me, as I think I’ve told you, but these ones are clearer than the others. Like it’s important that I keep them, somehow.

It was after the man in the dark cave with no bats and the dark leaking from his eyes, the one who tried to eat us all, who wanted to eat me most of all when I said I wasn’t afraid of him, the one you saved us from, with the bus’ headlights and driving it down the highway until the police found us.

I remember none of the adults believed any of us when we tried to tell them what happened. And gradually, the other kids stopped believing it too, even though they’d lived through it. Even though they’d seen the tendrils of dark taking away the others, seen them chase the bus out of the cave and down the road, killing every light they came across until the truck and the police came. They stopped talking to me, but I think they kept talking to you? You always were better than me at talking to people. I hope they’re being nice to you and you have lots of friends.

I think I only had two friends by the time it happened. The only ones who still believed me and you. I can’t remember their names or faces, not their ages or if they’d presented yet. One liked to wear a red dog collar occasionally that I wasn’t sure any dog had ever worn. The other had a twin who didn’t look like them and hung out with other people. One or other of them kept claiming they were from somewhere else, even though they or their parents or their great great grandparents had never even been to there. I remember that both of them just had to brush their hair to get it looking nice, and being jealous of that.

I don’t think either of them survived what happened.

It was the end of school, but you weren’t there. I think you had a club or activity that I was waiting to end before someone picked us up and took us home. The other two were also waiting for other reasons, so we went somewhere close by the school. A coffee shop, I think, but I’m not sure.

We were talking about what happened, how no one was listening to us. How everyone was trying to pretend it didn’t exist, that the kids who we couldn’t save were just missing, not dead. I remember telling them about something I’d found, something that I was sure was somewhere that would listen to us, take us seriously. I don’t know what it was, anymore. But I think that’s what let her find us.

I didn’t see her walk in.

But when she stood next to our table, I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Even more beautiful than any actress or model in existence. I thought it was amazing that no one else in the shop was staring at her like we were.

I’m having a lot of trouble explaining how she was beautiful. I can’t remember how exactly her face looked. Every time I think I can write it, I remember it different. I just know it was all perfect. So perfect it made you feel small and a little scared.

Her scent was like cotton candy and butterscotch popcorn all rolled into one, so warm and salty-sweet it almost overwhelmed you. She never made a sound though, so I assumed I knew what her dynamic was.

I assumed she had one in the first place.

She told one of my friends that their skin was some of the nicest she’d seen in a while. She told the other that their smile was lovely, and she was sure it belonged somewhere where everyone could enjoy it.

She looked at me and smiled the most perfect, beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. She said, “You have very pretty eyes. Very expressive. Are they yours?”

I was confused, but a little happy. I told her yes.

She pulled up a seat and sat down. She introduced herself as Dr. Carmilla. But when I said it again, she smiled like I’d done something funny, and said I’d heard wrong, that it was actually Dr. Camellia.

But it kept changing, all the time I knew her, from Carmilla to Camellia and back, and whenever you thought you’d finally gotten it right, it would turn out you were all wrong again. And it always felt wrong to just call her “Doctor” or “Doc”.

Her beautiful smile now went a little sad, but her cloying scent never changed. I wanted to do anything to make the sadness go away. I’m not sure if it was because I was sad she was sad, or if even then, something about it didn’t feel right.

“Something happened to you three, didn’t it?” She said. “Something nobody can explain. Something that everyone is pretending didn’t happen.”

We all nodded.

I started to tell her, but one of my other friends shushed me. They asked her how she knew, what she wanted from us.

Dr. Carmilla spread her hands wide. “I’m going to tell you something you already know. There are many things in this world that prey on humans, things that aren’t as easily explained as natural disasters, animal attacks, or human crime. I know this because I’m a member of a group dedicated to preventing those other supernatural occurrences from consuming the innocent. And unfortunately, you all have the look of those touched by the other side. Am I wrong?”

We stared at each other. My friend admitted that she wasn’t.

“Could you tell me what happened to you?”

And all throughout our confused, disjointed explanation, she nodded, gasped, and said exactly what we wanted to hear at exactly the right places. She looked sad, as though her heart was breaking for us, though her scent still stayed exactly the same. An odd gleam came into her eyes as we finished. She placed a hand on each of my friends’ shoulders, and looked us all in the eye.

“You three may be some of the most courageous people I have ever met.” Dr. Camellia said. “Not many could have faced what you did and survived. It takes a certain strength of character, a certain wisdom, to face up to the Dark and walk away. Though even you could not save all your classmates…”

I think I started crying a bit at that. It was all so much, the relief of her looking at us and tell us we weren’t imagining it, that we weren’t lying for attention, that we’d done the best we could, and the shame that even she knew that we hadn’t done enough.

Maybe if I were better, if I’d been braver, I could have run deeper into the cave. I could have fought the monster directly. I could of pulled out some of the kids we left behind out with me, or let it eat me in their place. I can’t even remember their names anymore. I still know I failed them. I wasn’t a hero like you.

Dr. Carmilla started speaking again. “I work for a branch of a group called the Syrcas yr Arall—”

At that point one of my friends interrupted. They knew that language, said they studied it to feel closer to their heritage. That the first word translated to “Circus”. And then my friend stuttered. I don’t know why. When I looked, Dr. Camellia was smiling like nothing was wrong.

“That’s right.” Dr. Carmilla continued. “That is what we use as a cover. We pretend to be a circus, and travel all over the country. When we can, if we have the numbers and strength, we root out any other monsters we can find so that we all can be safe. Monsters that destroy, monsters that chase, monsters that can infect or control minds. Monsters that come creeping out of the dark.”

She splayed her perfect hands in front of us. “I see potential in you three. Not only have you survived one of the most dangerous monsters out there, but you did it while you were all so young too. I would like to give you the chance to train that potential. To mold you into something that will never need fear what you’ve faced. That will strike fear into the others that have plagued you.”

“My group will give you not only the ability to do this, but a community of others like you. Those who can support you in this chosen quest.” She took her time to look us all in the eye. Dr. Camellia smiled a perfect smile.

“Well? How would you three like the chance to be heroes? To help others? Make a real difference to this world?”

I should have said no. I should have demanded why she was coming to us and asking us to fight the monsters, if she was so good at it. I should have thought about how wrong everything felt for longer than a minute. But right then, all I could think was that I wanted to protect you, more than anything. Never let the Dark come and hurt you again. Never let anything hurt you again.

So I said I would go with her.

And after I did, my friends did too.

We followed her out of that place, through a parking lot, to a large, grey caravan. She opened the door to let us inside, let us mess around with the beds and the cupboards and the sofa, before closing the door behind us and telling us to stay seated. She didn’t want us getting hurt if she had to brake suddenly.

I’m not sure how long we drove. Just that it was long enough that we went to sleep in the beds, and woke up again a few times.

The air was much colder when the got out than the place we left. But there were so many people, in a long line of caravans and wagons and trucks and other vehicles.

Dr. Camellia said that before we could be trusted to help with any proper monster hunts, we’d all need to be Trained to pass as Circus folk first. So that the monsters in the Dark or the predators wouldn’t realize we were more than prey, so that we could defend ourselves.

So we were assigned our own little bunks in one of the caravans, ate a big meal and slept. We spent the first few days meeting the other Performers and Trainees, though all the names kept slipping out of my head like water, and learning where all the important things were kept. This white trailer was the Storeroom. That green van was where the animals stayed. The big black truck was where all the cloth and poles and stands to set up the circus ring. The red trailer which Dr. Carmilla stayed in and no one else was allowed to enter.

The Trainees were given little jobs to help out around the site. Fetching costumes and hats for the Performers between acts. Going out to buy gas for the vehicles and food for everyone. Handing out flyers for the Circus in towns we came across, to gather an audience. Helping to pack up when it was time for the show to travel somewhere new.

Trainees weren’t allowed to watch the Performances. We could hear when they were put on, the music distorted by how loud it was and the screams of laughter. But Dr. Camellia said we all had to wait until we were fully Trained to see them ourselves.

Instead we sat around wooden tables outside or crushed together in one of the caravans, playing cards badly or telling made up stories or singing songs we couldn’t remember the words to, before going back to bed again.

It wasn’t long until the Training began.

It wasn’t hard to begin with. Learning about different positions within the Circus. Lots of stretches, touching your toes, running laps to get fit. Trying out different roles to see what we were suited for.

One of my friends was really, really good at everything, the best in the group. The other really, really wasn’t.

I was in the middle, I think. The only thing really good about me was my singing. Dr. Carmilla said my voice could be wonderful if I practiced hard.

Then it got harder.

Running laps became learning how to fall and not hurt yourself, climbing walls and poles and ropes and ribbons of fine gauzy cloth really really high into the air. Toe touches became spreading your legs wider than it felt safe to go in splits, spending days walking and running on your hands, tying your arms and legs on knots and holding the position until it felt like everything inside you was breaking, and then keep going. Learning how to swallow knives and fire, how to ride unicycles and bicycles along tightropes with no safety net. Acting as an audience stand-in or taking the places of one of the Performers when they were rehearsing their acts for the big shows. Singing not only in harmony with others and with a melody, but to replace other noises, my voice making sounds that I was sure it shouldn’t.

One of my friends was really, really good. The other really, really wasn’t.

But the most important lesson of the Training, the one Dr. Camellia drilled into us over and over again was this: “Always smile. And I don’t mean a weak little grin or a trembly baring of teeth. I mean a real smile, a big smile. The audience can sense weakness. They can sense nerves, sense doubt, sense fear, and they are watching, waiting for you to slip up, to reveal that you don’t know what you’re doing to them. The moment they realize that, the show may as well be over. It’s the same with our enemies. They thrive off of seeing how scared they can make you, because your fear is power to them. So smile my little ones. Smile big, real, genuine smiles, until your faces ache, and then keep smiling. If you smile, you aren’t nervous, you aren’t terrified, you’re excited. Excited to perform, excited to show the audience what’s coming next, too excited to let our enemies hurt you. Smile, and the rest will follow.”

So we smiled and smiled and smiled, and slowly everything we were Trained in got easier. Got quicker. Felt normal, even as it felt like your body was becoming something not quite yours.

There were days when my teeth felt too big for my mouth, cutting into my tongue and cheeks until all I could taste was blood. Days when my legs would wobble and ache with every step I took, like there was something in them that was stopping me from walking like I used to. Days when I’d stare at my hands and the bandages on them for hours, feeling over all the new lumps and bumps, not quite sure they were mine. Days when I couldn’t stand looking in the mirror, and days when it was all I wanted to do, to reassure myself it was still me looking back.

But the worst bit, Brother, the absolute worst bit, is that even with all that, I had fun.

Even when there were things that made me pause, that made me a little scared, when everyone smiled at me, it was so easy to convince myself it was just another joke I wasn’t in on, one that I was allowed to laugh at. And unlike everywhere else I’d ever been before, when I laughed along, everyone laughed with me. They didn’t give me odd looks, they didn’t tell me I couldn’t, didn’t tell me I didn’t belong. They just smiled back and clapped my shoulders or ruffled my hair.

It didn’t matter that I felt like an outsider. I felt like that even when I was a person, with other people. At least when the other Trainees and Performers teased me, it didn’t feel like they were trying to make me go away. Like they didn’t like me.

I don’t know how long I spent like that. Pretending that the things I glimpsed in the corner of my eye weren’t as bad as they seemed. Swallowing every excuse they gave me about the audience, about some of the other Trainees vanishing. Forgetting how long it had been since I’d seen one of my friends, ignoring that the other seemed to change scents or dynamic every time I spoke with them. Enjoying when they or Dr. Carmilla said I did a good job singing, that I was getting more and more flexible by the day, that I was improving by leaps and bounds in Training. That I’d be able to Perform for real too soon.

And then one day, I opened a costume box in the Storeroom to get out a hat, and I saw my friend’s skin hanging there.

It was put away so neatly, hung up carefully to not crease like the clown costumes and sparkly leotards around it. Loose, empty eyeholes and mouth stretched in the grin that made me want to be their friend in the first place.

It was like a curtain had been pulled away.

All the things I’d been ignoring, I’d been forgetting, rushed into my head. How long ago had my friend been replaced?! How long had it been since I’d seen the other one?! Why couldn’t I remember what their face looked like, what their scent smelled like?! How long had it been since I’d seen my family?!

One of the Performers called my name.

I grabbed the hat and closed the costume box carefully. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. It was like my body wouldn’t let me, made me keep smiling wide even as I went back, even when I went to sleep.

Like it knew that smiling was all that was keeping me safe.

From there I kept trying to pretend as hard as I could that I didn’t know. That everything was still normal, that they hadn’t hurt my friends, that they weren’t going to hurt me.

But I could feel their eyes on me. They knew I knew, even if they never acted like it. It was just a waiting game, seeing if I broke first or they did.

And now, realizing that they weren’t human, I knew that they could wait forever. It was only a matter of time until the terror drove me mad.

One day, when I’d been entrusted to buy more gas from a station for all the caravans and trucks, a strange man came up to me.

I can’t remember what he looked like. Just that he smiled warmly, smelled like something gentle and green, and was wearing a nice, if dusty suit. He looked like a detective from a tv show, or a secret agent.

“Hey kid,” The man said. “Are you alright?”

I’m still embarrassed by what I did next. I opened my mouth to tell him I was fine, like Dr. Camellia always taught us to, only for a weird whiny sound to come out. Next thing I knew I was crying hard, and the man was kneeling in front of me with a pack of tissues, trying to clean me up.

He took me into the little rest stop cafe, and bought me a hot chocolate to drink. He just had a black coffee, and sipped it greedily.

That made me relax. Even when the performers at the Circus ate, it was always like they were pretending. Only eating or drinking as little as they could get away with for the performance.

That meant that this man was actually human. Like I was.

The man said, “I’m Agent Benjamin Ellison. Friends call me Benji. I work for an organization.” He said a name I hadn’t heard before and that I can’t remember. He asked me if I’d heard of it, and I shook my head no.

We were quiet for a bit. I drank the hot chocolate. It didn’t taste like I thought it should. I asked him if he was actually on my side. On the side of humans, rather than monsters.

He tilted his head and smiled warmly at me. “Course I am, kiddo. Why, you got a monster problem?”

I told him everything.

From the darkness in the cave to Dr. Carmilla to the Circus to finding my friend’s skin. I told him that I was so, so afraid, and so, so tired of it all. That it had started out as an adventure and ended up as a nightmare. And all I wanted was to wake up in my bed at home, with you and everyone important to me. I probably started crying again. I seem to do that a lot.

By the time I was done, his warm smile was gone. His scent had gone peppery-sharp, and there was a soft growl in his throat as he frowned at me.

He raised his hands as I tried to make myself small in my seat.

“Wait kid, I—” He gave a big sigh and a lot of the peppery notes went soft and green again. “It’s not you I’m teed off at, but. This is. A lot. I need to make a call real quick. My job, the organization I work for, I think we might be able to help. Can I ask you to stay here while I do? I’ll just be right outside.”

I nodded.

He smiled at me and stood up, leaving his coffee behind.

He went outside and called someone. I don’t think it was good call, Brother, because he kept walking up and down the sidewalk outside, and he began waving his hands and yelling.

I remember being terrified that he was going to come back inside and tell me that I couldn’t be helped. That I was in too much trouble to save. That I’d never see you again.

The door slammed open when Agent Benji Ellison came back in.

He stomped over to his seat, smelling purely of pepper-anger. He downed the coffee in one go, without stopping for breath.

I was terrified and impressed.

“Listen, kid.” He slumped into his seat and stared me in the eyes. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t just run into you on accident out there. Or I did, but—there’s a reason why I started talking to you. You’re a missing person. You’re—” He said a name I can’t remember even when I try my hardest. “Right? Your family and your friends’ families have been looking for you all for months now, even after the HCSO declared the case cold.”

I was shocked. For some reason, it never occurred to me that you and our family might be looking, might be worried about where I was.

Agent Benji Ellison nodded. “And what you’ve told me—this clearly goes way deeper than we guessed. An entire supernatural human trafficking ring—if it is as benign as that.” He leaned back, hand sliding over his head. “The problem is my superiors won’t send me any backup. Not without hard evidence of wrongdoing or supernatural activity, just keep repeating some bullshi—bullcrap about warrants and due process and keeping tabs. But I’m willing to bet this syrcas or whatever won’t be hanging around long?”

I shook my head. We had one more show in this town, then we would be going again. It was why I needed to get gas.

“Exactly.” He said, a low warning growl under his words. “Time’s running out, and if I leave it, it’ll be too late for you, or any of the other poor so—suckers stuck there. So I need you to do me a favor, one that’ll need you to be super brave. Can you do that, kiddo? Can you be brave?”

I should have realized by then that the answer to that question was always going to be “No”.

But I listened to Agent Benji Ellison’s plan. On the night of the show, he’d sneak onto site. As a Trainee, I wouldn’t be participating. From there, we would gather as much physical evidence as we could find on Dr. Camellia and the Performers. Then, he’d take me and the evidence back to his organization so I could give them my testimony, they would contact my family, and we’d be reunited and go into hiding from the Circus together. He would get the things he needed to stop the Circus for good. I would get to see you again.

I decided to trust him.

The night of the show was busy, as always. We set up in nearby fields, far enough away that people had to drive down winding, rickety roads just to get to us. Lots of the audience before the show would joke that they were sure they’d gotten lost, despite living here for years. I’m not so sure it was a joke.

I was front of house, leading the audience to their seats, when I saw him. As we’d discussed, he pretended to ask me questions as I pretended to help other audience members, until I could get him to slip out the back of the tent. He was very good at pretending, walking like he belonged there, so no one took any notice of him.

I’d told him all about where the Storeroom was, and how to get in. He told me to meet up with him in an hour in that spot, with anything I could find, no matter how small or meaningless.

I was breaking into Dr. Carmilla’s trailer, after all.

It was so much smaller than all the other vehicles, it felt a little silly that I was as scared of going into it as I was.

Still, I climbed on top and managed to pry open the top window enough that I could slide in. I even found it funny that her Training was what was helping me here.

Inside…I still have trouble thinking about it.

Nothing looked right. All the angles were off somehow, and there were so many more wires and lights than it felt like there should be. It all hummed, like people chanting something far, far away. But there were no people things. A bed, a chair, a desk, a closet, but no mirrors, none of the little bits and bobs other Trainees kept by their bunks until they became Performers and stopped caring about it, or vanished.

Except for on one wall. There was a painting of a woman, as impossibly beautiful as Dr. Camellia was, but somehow…more so. Like Dr. Carmilla was somehow the drawing, rather than this lady.

I pulled out drawers for small things to stuff into my pockets, but there was nothing like what Agent Benji Ellison told me to keep an eye out for. Nothing that could be detached that was obviously evil, no letters or books with any writing about money or kidnapping plans, not even a hairbrush or something with a fingerprint on. It was all gleaming and unmarred until I touched it.

At last, I turned back to the painting. Maybe there was something hidden behind there? Like a secret safe, in books.

The painting wouldn’t come off the wall. I think it was part of the wall. But I glimpsed some writing down in a bottom corner underneath the impossibly beautiful woman: Dr. C Pritc—

“And what do you think you’re doing here?”

I couldn’t read more than that, because my ear was grabbed and I was yanked around to stare up at Dr. Camellia.

She was frowning, but her scent was the same overpowering salty-sweetness it always was. That made me even more scared.

I began wriggling and shouting, trying to get away, but she shook me so hard it felt like she would rip my ear off, making me dizzy with pain.

“I’ll admit, I’m disappointed in you,” Dr. Carmilla said, as she unlocked the door and dragged me outside, to where a group of Performers was waiting. One of them was wearing my friend’s skin. “You had so much potential. I’d hoped to make a jewel of you for our Ringmaster—someone who could be wonderful for her in the ring and in the choir, recapture some of the greatest work I’d ever seen. But, needs must, I suppose. We just need to put you through some of the procedures that I’d have done sooner than expected, that’s all. If it hurts, you’ve no one to blame but yourself.”

I started screaming then. Screaming that she’d never get away with this, that they’d never get away with this, that people were coming to arrest them even as we spoke. That the audience would notice, that they’d stop them. Screaming for someone, anyone to come help me.

That made them all laugh, an awful chattering laugh that I could finally admit sounded faker than any real laughter could.

“You think you can escape this?” Dr. Camellia said. “From the punishment that you deserve? Shall I show you how useless that is? Enter, stage right!”

Someone came out of the Storeroom.

For a moment, my heart leapt. I thought it was him, coming to save me. He said he was an agent, and agents usually had guns, which meant he could beat all the monsters and we’d get away and I’d get to come home.

And then it stepped into the light, and smiled at me.

It wasn’t Agent Benji Ellison anymore.

I know now that a Yeerk had got him and ate up all his life, but all I knew then was that this was not the man I’d spoken to, who’d promised to get me out, even if I didn’t know how I knew that. Even if I can’t remember what Agent Benji Ellison originally looked like.

“This is your sole responsibilty.” Dr. Carmilla told me, sounding almost happy. “You talked, after all, and because of you, a man is gone. His life all eaten up and ripped away. Do suppose he had a family? Someone like that brother you claim to love so very much? Like those friends of yours—though did forget them so easily, didn’t you? No one is coming. It’s only you, and us. Now what do you have to say for yourself, hm?”

I want to say I was brave. That I’d spat at her or something, that I’d told her she’d never break me, that I demanded my friends back, that I’d said I’d die to protect you.

I wasn’t. I didn’t. I was scared. I was so, so scared. And I was a coward.

I cried and cried and I begged her not to kill me, even as I hated myself for it.

Dr. Camellia laughed and told me not to worry. That I was too good a performer to waste like that.

I thought that meant I would be okay. That even if I spent the rest of my life never seeing you again, I’d at least live.

And then the Yeerk grabbed my head and held my mouth open. Two performers grabbed my arms and made me get on my knees. They stood on my legs so I couldn’t run.

“Chatterboxes don’t deserve voiceboxes, after all.”

I kept thinking, this will be it. Soon everything will hurt too much, and I’ll pass out. Like they do in the books and movies. 

And when I wake up, it’ll be awful, I’ll be a monster or a doll or a pile of parts, but it’ll be done. The pain will be done. This will be over. Any second now.

Any second now.

Any second now.

I don’t know what they did to me. It hurt too much to focus on it, on anything else. 

But I know they kept me awake through all of it. Even when I was sure I couldn’t possibly take anymore. Even when I thought I’d die from it.

She kept me awake the entire time as she ripped away what made me a person and made me whatever I am now.

I don’t remember much after it was done. I was still thinking about the pain, still waiting to pass out.

But I think they must have let go of me. I know Dr. Carmilla kept touching me, pulling things into place, muttering to herself, “It must be secure. No use in letting it slip loose. It won’t be good for anything like that.”

At last, she said. “It’s done. Now we just need to keep it in good condition until the time comes. I’ve high hopes for this one.”

She put me into the Storeroom, hooked something into my back that kept me still, made it so I couldn’t move. I hung there, like all the other costumes and props that weren’t needed.

Before she left, Dr. Camellia made two other Performers move a mirror in front of me. So I could see what I was. So I could see what I wasn’t.

I don’t want to tell you what I look like now. It will scare you, and the worst thing in the world is if I make you scared of me.

I’ll just say I don’t look like me anymore. I can’t sound like me anymore.

She left just enough of me behind that it’s clear I’m not.

And if you scream and run away if you ever see me again, I’ll understand the most.

I don’t know how long I was there.

I know when I was let out to Perform, though.

The colors…they were like nothing you’ve ever seen, Brother. I can’t even describe them, I don’t think.

All I know is they terrified me. The colors, the lights, the music. And there I was, in a room full of Strangers.

And it was me or them.

So I did what I’d been Trained to do. I Danced.

I Danced, and Danced, and Danced, hard enough that the Strangers and the audience went to bits and pieces around me. And the audience feared me and loved me. And the Strangers loved me and feared me. I felt full to bursting with it, with the music and colors and lights, and I understood then. I didn’t know, because I couldn’t know anything, not with how everything in my head was tossing and tumbling and screaming.

But I understood that I wasn’t human anymore. I was a Performer, with a proper Smile on my face.

So I Performed.

When I was done, when the lights went up, when the music and colors stopped, when I could see all the unrecognizable bits and pieces that were left that was when Dr. Carmilla walked over to me. She was clapping, hard enough that the sound hurt. The Yeerk that was pretending to be Agent Benji Ellison had a large bunch of flowers. It handed them to Dr. Camellia. It almost looked scared.

“I’ve done it.” She laughed. “It’s a masterpiece, the finest thing to come out of my Training yet! Oh, I can’t wait for Nikola to open it. She won’t know what hit her. Pack it with care. The Contortionist must not be damaged before its debut.”

I was put into a box, filled with straw. I was in there for a long time, I think. I could hear things, but it was like they were far away. I stopped getting hungry and thirsty quickly. I just laid there, waiting for when my new owner would open my box.

And then, the box was opened.

The first thing I remember hearing was, “Ooh, well aren’t you a bendy one?”

I thought I knew what the scariest thing the Circus had to offer looked like.

I was wrong.

Nikola Orsinov is the Ringmaster and the Dancer. She is the big boss of the whole Circus, and anything good enough to pass the Training is sent to her, to perform in her ring.

She is not human. I’m not sure she ever was. She loves that fact, that humans are so scared of her, when she’s just plastic. She loves the fact that the whole Circus is scared of her even more.

She said, “Let’s see what this toy can do then!” and had me Perform in the Circus ring for a long, long time. Every time I did well, she would laugh her plastic laugh with her stolen voice, and clap her plastic hands. But I never felt she was actually happy. Just hungry. Just waiting.

One day after a big performance, she draped herself over me. “Really Contortionist, it’s amazing that you’re able to perform with all that skin in your way! I could take it off your hands, if you would like?”

I shook my head. She laughed, delighted.

“Well, if you’re sure!” She said. “But we run a tight ship here! None of that riff raff or third rate acts they have over the pond—I do want all my Performers to be the best they can be! And sometimes that means trimming off the fat! Or skin, as the case may be! Oh, it would make such a lovely statement piece!”

I shook my head again and trembled and smiled wide, wide, wide as she laughed and laughed and laughed.

I was scared, Brother. I was so, so scared.

I knew that if I stayed here, no matter how good I tried to be, I would mess up. And the moment I messed up was the moment that Nikola Orsinov would take my skin from me, take everything I had left, and then there’d be nothing.

I had to get out.

I didn’t get the chance until one of the later shows.

By that time I’d gotten used to how the Performances worked. Most of the audience wouldn’t walk away, either joining us or getting pulled to bits for new parts. But at least one would always leave, stumbling and shaking and crying. They’d always be back, maybe not for the next Performance, or the one after that, but eventually they’d be stuck there again, even if it meant we had to go to them. A special, private Performance. No one ever got away twice.

But some did always get away once. And I noticed that.

And I thought about how I was a monster now. How it might be harder for them to track down a monster than a human, who couldn’t do all the things I can do. After all, they used their monster powers to ensure that you and our family couldn’t find me, that no one could until Agent Benji Ellison found me by accident. And they’d given some of those powers to me, by making me this.

I just needed to wait. I just needed to pretend. And I’m a monster now.

Monsters are so good at waiting and pretending.

So I waited. I waited until there was a big Performance, a “Dress Rehearsal” as Nikola called it. There were so many Performers there, all indescribable and all terrifying to each other and to our audience. The Strongmen, the Yeerks, the Acrobats, the Clowns. They even managed to get the Conductor and its Choir to sing.

And there I was in the middle of it all, smiling, smiling, smiling, slipping into the audience when my part was played, feeling stuffed full when the person next to me noticed I wasn’t who was meant to be there. Right up until the end of the show, when I was next to the exit.

I made myself stop smiling. I let my fear and my terror show through, walked in step with the audience as they stumbled away from the main tent, pretending as hard as could that I was a normal human person, scared silly by something I couldn’t explain.

And then, when I was far enough, I ran.

I ran as far and as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I was when I stopped, but it was a big city with lots of big metal buildings.

I try my best to not be a monster now. Or as much of one as Nikola Orsinov or Dr. Camellia. I do still need to scare people, otherwise I get slow and ill and weak, and I can’t tell my body to move how I want.

But I try my best not to scare people to bits and pieces, and everyone who sees me Perform always get away. It’s hard, and I feel weak a lot, but I think I’m doing okay. I’ve got lots of books from libraries so I should be able to work out what kind of monster they made me any day now.

I’m not sure how long it took Nikola or the others to work out that I’d escaped. I try to steer clear of them whenever I can. Keep moving so they can’t trap me again and take my skin.

But they sent the Strongmen after me a couple of times, and when I started scaring people away from where they were waiting that must have made Nikola Orsinov and the Circus angry, because there are a lot more of them trying to find me now.

Please don’t worry too much. I’ve lasted this long against them, so I think I should be all right.

Even if I’m not okay, I now have the angry ghost to help me out. Do you remember? I’ve written about him before—I learned last week his name is Emil, and he actually let me into his warehouse for a second time without throwing any bricks at me!! I think he’s starting to like me!

Please stay safe. If anyone tells you they know what happened to me, run away as fast as you can. Don’t end up like me Brother. Please.

Love you always.

THE ARCHIVIST: Statement Ends

THE ARCHIVIST: Given some of the context here, it seems “Yeerks” from the children’s series Animorphs were the closest term Robbie could find to describe the creatures I know as the NotThem. Hard to work out what something is if no one has given you the words to understand it. Which I imagine was rather the point.

THE ARCHIVIST: Though…Benjamin Ellison is…a name I’ve come across before. When I was in America, in 2017, it listed him as one of the heads of the research department in the Usher Foundation, when I was trying to work out who to contact to learn more about Gertrude’s activities there, before I was, ah. Waylaid. Given what Robbie has declared their age to be, it could be likely that this incident occurred after my trip to the U.S., but…well. Barring myself, heads of department don’t tend to get much involved in hands-on field work, let alone need to force a child to return to a dangerous situation in order to procure enough evidence to justify a call for backup.

THE ARCHIVIST: Which means the Usher Foundation has an agent of the Stranger actively involved in the upper echelons of its organization, likely inhibiting any attempts to bring this “Carmilla slash Camellia” doctor and her ilk to justice. [LOWER, GRUMBLING TONE] And here I was thinking it was bad luck enough that there was more than one of them running around. Or well. Not Them.

THE ARCHIVIST: Which is one of many. Many. Distressing revelations included in this statement. I’m beginning to understand why Martin has been treating Robbie like a teddy bear these past few days. I’d feel much happier once they’re back in my sight, after their wal—!

[A FAINT BUT BUILDING BUZZ OF STATIC, RISING IN PICTH UNTIL IT WARBLES, SHIMMERY QUICK, AT A QUAVERING HIGH TONE THAT ALMOST SOUNDS FAMILIAR.]

[A CHOKED GASP.]

THE ARCHIVIST: —no, no, not them, please, leave the two of them out of this, they haven’t done anything, not them, not them, Not Them—!

[THE SOUND OF POUNDING FEET ON HARDWOOD, A DOOR BEING FLUNG OPEN. THE CRUNCH OF GRAVEL UNDER SOCKS AND HOWLING OF THE WIND.]

THE ARCHIVIST [FRANTIC]: Martin! ROBBIE! MARTIN!! MAR—!

[CLICK]

[carmasi]

Mercenary for Hire Chapter 14 - Coincidences

“Again” 

The stern voice of his teacher was heard as he was seen slashing through the body of a training dummy. He’s been at this since the sun came out and he have had no rest, as all he did was angled his sword, and slice, slash and repeat. 

“Again” 

Allen yelled again and so he did as he was told, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to training, but it had been a while since he was last  subdue to his master training method. He remembered  those were the same training method he subjected his elder daughter to and for what he heard she turned out to be something. 

“Allen!” They heard the voice of a woman coming from the hall in their vicinity. Her figure was tall and slender, and her hair a light color blue, her eyes though, a shade of amethyst that rival that of his master. 

“Can you call me dad for once in your life Blue bell?” She grunted and Killian's eyes widened  at the sight of the rune knight.  That was Sayasaki Keeper? Her mere aura was menacing, not to mention her narrow hooded eyes had a murderous wind to them. 

“Fine, dad, I need the training rink. When are you going to be done?” She asked, a hand placed on her hip as she swayed them to one side. She wore the Rune knight uniform, but unlike most, a black bodysuit covered the rest of her body, where the armor did not.  Killian’s gaze met hers and for a minute he shivered “Who’s that?” Saya asked, looking his way  and then at his stance, analyzing every inch of the man’s position. 

“ That’s My pupil,  you remember Killian?” Saya raised a brow, trying to recall whom he meant but she was drawing a blank,  much to Allen’s disappointment. He trained them both in the same grounds, they faced each other multiple times, needless to say, Sayasaki always won. Was the Rune knight really so dissociated with everything around her she would not remember? 

“Can’t place him… but he has a good grip on his hands. Work on his foot work though, he’s slow” she grinned looking over at the dark haired man “ You two have ten minutes, before I come over and kick you both out” Allen groaned, his daughter had become a pain since she was appointed as reconnaissance captain. He liked her better when she was a lazy knight who drank booze all day and fought at the arena for fun and glory. 

“Alright Wrightstone pick it up,  we’re heading back to Izlude for the rest of the day” Killian flinched, he hadn’t been called by his given name in so long. The name Wrightstone, the one given to him by his master when he was found in that cave, when he lost all hope. When he was borderline dead alongside all those other kids. 

He picked up the sword that he was given and followed his tutor, he’d heard what the runed knight said about his footwork, it shamed him to know his flaws were out in the open for anyone to see. Then again, she did train under his master, so maybe not just anyone could see his flaws. They walked through the hall on their way back to the Izlude home, where he knew more dummies awaited them, more training. 

Lily walked right through the gate, passed the same hall, missing her husband and his pupil. Her blonde hair brown eyes daughter falling into stepped behind her. She stopped though, as the scent of spearmint lingered around them, such a familiar scent, calming and lovely. 

“Kyrius?” Lily called out and Kyrius looked back at her not having the time to even turn her head to find where that familiar scent was coming from, “coming mom”

They felt into step together and soon reach the castle library where books floated about as they walked, scholars greeter the sorcerer and she said nothing, the picture of poised perfection, as her lilac hair flowed gently and the hibiscus at each side of her head made her look younger than she was, who’d thought she had three grown daughters. 

“Alright honey bee, let’s try and fix those runes for you” Kyrius nodded and just like that disappeared behind a door with her mother.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Hello, hope you’re well! Do you have any headcanons of Yujiro Hanma in a relationship with his S/O?

Yujiro was pretty damn hot when he was a young Rambo, huh?

Remember how miss Obnoxious Diane managed to piss Yujiro off enough to humiliate her?

Well, you met him around the same time, but under weirder circumstances.

You were hiding in a cave and cooking a porridge with whatever ingredients you managed to poach around, until someone intruded your small, temporary home - It was a very buff and intimidating-looking red head man who looked to be around your age, yet somehow, his features seemed more mature than most 16 year olds you knew.

The two of you shared eye-contact for quite a few seconds from the shock, neither of you expecting to find another human being in such a place.

Before he could open his mouth and properly intrude in your home, you just scuttled over and told him to sit down and eat together.

Cue his shock --- WHY?

Rations were scarce, and he ate like a freaking animal, not to mention, he’s a complete stranger, heck, he might be an enemy for all you knew, yet you treated him with such polite nonchalance that he can’t quite figure out himself what’s going on.

You just handed him a spoon and told him to dig in, and even warned him about it being hot... And that it wasn’t much for him, but it’s all you got.

Are you dumb? You must be, otherwise, why the hell would you starve yourself to aid another??

Those insults found themselves being spoken out loud as well, but you merely shrugged and agreed, as if it wasn’t anything fantastic.

“Yeah, I know. My mum always scolded me for being the stupid Good Samaritan. It’s not like I believe in altruism or anything, but I don’t think you’re that bad of a guy and I’d rather be your friend than enemy. Look at you, you could look at me the wrong way and I’d drop dead in a second.”

Not wrong. Not only you, but everyone else alive was so petite and frail compared to him, he could damage your skull with a mere flick of his fingers and he’d just laugh at how weak you are.

At the same time, he did find this kindness of yours to be rather smart, now that you explained, yet at the same time, he also enjoys how unbothered you are by everything.

You don’t seem the least bit afraid of him on the outside, yet he can feel your heart beating faster and your eyes were sharper - You were more on the edge, cautious of all his moves, whilst also trying to be subtle.

When he asked why you were hiding in a cave, you told him your brother was captured by the enemy and you were trying to infiltrate the headquarter estate and rescue him - It amused him - Someone weak and untrained in combat, sporting a mere sword, not even a gun, infiltrating that heavily-guarded estate and even trying to rescue a war prisoner.

Never mind, Yujiro was pretty intrigued by your strong resolve and told you to stick around him and make sure you don’t die, ‘cause he won’t protect you.

JK, he completely protected you without even realising when a bunch of soldiers with machine guns started firing your way. They were all dead within mere seconds.

He turned his head to look at you, and you didn’t seem to care about the gruesome deaths of your enemies - In fact, you simply raided their bodies so now you had better weapons and ammo.

Smart cookie.

He absolutely hated women who freak out over stupid things like murder.

“Say, Yuji, why are you here anyway? Do you have any goal for fighting in this war?” you asked all of a sudden during one night as you stood by the fire, waiting for the food to be cooked.

“Just having fun. And what better way of having fun than training to become the strongest creature on Earth, ey?” he gave off a twisted smirk, wishing to scare you off, but you merely grunted in understanding and nodded.

“Well, if anyone can do it, I’m sure it’s you. You’re like those guys in hero comics that train so hard that it looks like they have superpowers, but in fact, they’re just that cool. Hey, I bet you could kidnap the president if you want. That’d be hilarious.” you chuckled lightly in such a crystalline voice that it sort of impressed him.

“You’re giving me awful ideas, Y/N. I love it.” his grin widened so much that it seemed to split his face in two.

From then on, until you found your way infiltrating into the estate, he made sure to protect you in all the subtle ways - He was a man, he was a fighter, not a protector - But even so, he didn’t want his little companion to die so quickly, the war would be so much boring without you.

Hell, he even ended up carrying you bridal style here and there under the pretext that you were just too frail, slow and completely inapt to be doing such missions by yourself, so he so kindly offered you his aid, you should rejoice!

It was going pretty well for the two of you, until this blonde chick Jane appeared in the picture and it seemed to ruin the mood for the both of you with her way too straightforward, brash and rude flirting and invitation to being more intimate than acceptable.

Not wanting to bother with this exchange of words between the blonde and a pissed off Yujiro, you simply started walking away with your hands in the large pockets of the pants you stole from a soldier - That is, unless you heard some growls and yelps from behind and you noticed the red haired Rambo man punching the blonde away from him, stomping towards you.

You couldn’t help but let out a breath of amusement, but didn’t utter a single word, not wanting to bother him more than he already was.

“Say, Yuji... Don’t you think Jane was being a bit suspicious?” you asked, all of a sudden, this time staying at the food of a tree, looking up at the starry sky.

“Are you jealous, Y/N?” the smirked mockingly, leaning forwards, very close to your face.

“I think jealousy is an emotion for weak and insecure people. Do you want me to be jealous, Yuji?” you tilt your head to the side, jaw propped on your palm, looking at him with sort of sleepy, hooded eyes.

“What innocent thinking, if not, rather foolish." he sneered tauntingly at her. "Also, I don't quite remember allowing you to use such a familial nickname with me. I'm not your friend."

You could only blink, wide-eyed and slightly embarrassed, not having realised how you abbreviated his name, and you could only sheepishly chuckle and scratch the back of your head "Ahh, sorry, sorry, I didn't realise I was calling you that. You're right, we're not friends, and when this is over, we'll never see each other again."

Ouch.

The sensation of a palm being slapped harshly over his face was felt as your words echoed in his head over and over again.

Not see each other again, you said...

That's inadmissible. Yujiro no likey. Nuh-uh. That won't do.

"I don't tolerate such bullshit being spoken around me. You're lucky I didn't kill you yet." he huffed, scowling at her.

"Sorry, sorry." despite threatening you, somehow, you picked up on his light-hearted predisposition and merely smiled at him as if you had no care in the world. "The sky is very pretty tonight, don't you think, Yuji?"

"Why the hell are you still using that nickname?!" he snapped at you, only to see you laugh.

"You told me you don't remember allowing me to use it. I never said that I cared what you think you can allow me or not. If you're not my mother, you have no right in dictating my rights." she didn't even bother looking at his frowning visage - She just looked up at the sky with a serene look.

"You insolent woman --" he grabbed your face roughly, only to widen his eyes at the doe-like look on your face - So carefree and passive, so untouched by the world and unbothered by everything surrounding you - As if for you, Yujiro Hanma was just another simple man, unthreatening and without the littlest speck of fright or intimidation around him.

He couldn't help but tsk and let go of you, turning to the side to go to sleep, without even saying good night.

But you did. And he answered with a dismissive huff.

However, when you woke up, you were covered in his jacket while he was stretching and working out shirtless, getting ready for the infiltration mission.

"Moornin'~!" you waved lazily to him, your hair a mess and eyes still closed due to your sleepiness.

"It's late. Better thank me for not waking you up sooner, you slob." he sneered, not bothering to stop his routine.

"Thanks, Yuji! I slept really well. It was really warm last night, thanks for the jacket. I hope it wasn't too cold for you." you replied, getting up and carefully folding the jacket, ready to hand it back to him.

Little did you know the reason for you being warm wasn't that paper-thin jacket, but the Hanma natural high body temperature as he held you through the night after seeing you shiver to hell in your sleep.

You cuddled into his chest, your head underneath his chin, resembling a baby kitten hidden inside a warm cardigan, he couldn't help but stroke your hair the whole night, while pondering about the mission of the next day.

"Keep it, I don't need weakling germs to be crawling all over me." was his way of saying "Keep it and keep yourself warm, you frail snowdrop of a woman."

The infiltration mission went really well - More or less - And you met up at the main room, only for the blonde woman to appear out of nowhere, for the second time, yet now, she was carrying a huge barrel of T.N.T and other explosive stuff, but Yujiro seemed to narrow his eyes suspiciously at her.

She opened a secret passage by taking out some rather specific books - No matter how you looked at it, things just couldn't stop being fishy - And the red haired man caught a glimpse at the worried frown of his little companion.

It was the first time she expressed any kind of emotion other than unbothered passiveness - She really didn't like Jane, and rightfully so. She smelt her lies so easily, what a great intuition.

"Miss Jane, do you know anything about B/N, a war prisoner? He looks like me, just with shorter hair and a bit taller." he heard the girl speak in a rather unsettled voice, her E/C eyes peering into Jane's blue ones as if she was piercing them.

"Oh, that guy? They're preparing to execute him outside." the blonde spoke so nonchalantly as she stepped to cling on Yujiro's arm, dragging him towards the secret passage, while you could only grit your teeth in anger and concern, sprinting towards the window, looking down to confirm for yourself.

"B/N...!" you gasped, seeing your poor brother being blindfolded, on his knees, with a machine gun to his temple, unaware of the other two.

"Y/N. Let's go." you heard your name being spoken by the man, but you could only gulp, looking at him with a nervous expression. "You can't save him by looking at him from up here, can you? Move, before this place explodes."

No need to be told a second time, you merely nod and sprint his way, as fast as you could, only to get half-way through the tunnel and to have your wrist suddenly grasped mid-way through your running, almost falling but being pulled into Yujiro's chest.

"What are you doing?! You'll get killed if you stay here!" Jane yelled at him aggressively, but he only glared at her, pulling you closer to him chest, his arms protectively around you.

"Yuji...?" you asked in a soft voice, questioning him, only for him to keep you grounded and safe in his arms during the explosion, not daring to let out a single squeak, knowing you'd be safe with this superhuman of a man, while with the other arm, he grasped Jane's wrist, keeping her from being blown away -... Yet, in a way, their eardrums were blown away by her annoying screaming.

As soon as the explosion passed, the grip on you tightened slightly, while with his other hand, he roughly bitch-slapped Jane into a wall. "Listen to you, you scream like any woman who has reached the limit of her power. You have courage in trying to act like a soldier, but you are still only a woman." with this, he let go of you as he menacingly walked towards the blonde who was unable to unglue herself from the wall out of fear.

"Why? Why did you hit me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Jane, or should I say, Diane Neil? I've known for a while the United Nations has great fears about my combat strength, because my powers will soon reach those of a nation's army. This tunnel was built in secret many years ago by the United Nations. How did you come to know about it?" hearing that, Jane grabbed the knife from the back of her pants and tried to attack Yujiro, who merely grabbed her wrist, breaking it, making her drop her weapon before pushing her into the wall again. "Being a UN worker was just too much or you. I told you, I will protect myself no matter what the cost." he was angry - Boy, was he so angry that he radiated so much darkness - But you didn't care. You almost died because of her, and you knew she was suspicious from the get go anyway.

"Y/N. Get out of here. What I'm about to do should not be seen by such a baby like you. Sneak out of here and get behind them. This tunnel will lead right in front of them. It will create enough of a diversion to rescue your brother. Understood?" he snapped his head towards you, peering into your very soul as he strangled the woman below him.

"Got it." nodding firmly at him, you ran back the way you came and did just as you were told, not caring, nor wanting to know what he was going to do to her - All your thoughts were on rescuing your brother and running away.

You successfully managed to hide in the bushes, as everyone was much too tense and staring at the door in front of them, until it was kicked open and before the soldiers could shoot him, he threw the fainted body of Diane at them then leapt like a jaguar, killing them so easily - You wanted to sit there and admire, but you used the last ammo from the machine gun you had to kill the soldiers surrounding your brother, then sprinted to get him out of there.

Much to your surprise, however, as Yujiro was busy with the representative or whoever that was, Diane got your brother in a choke hold, her gun at his temple, and you couldn't help but freeze on the spot.

"What the hell is wrong with you, woman?! You're following around a demon... A monster... A rapist... As if you worship the ground he walks on?! For what?! Are you delusional?! He's a criminal, you idiot!" she was sweating and trembling like a leaf, and the grip on the pistol was weak, but you couldn't act, fearing risking your brother's life.

"B/N... Remember the thief game?" you muttered at him, watching him bite his lip and grunt in approval. "Three thieves. That's all I need." was your secret code so he'd know to advert her pistol away in 3 seconds.

And he did, allowing you the chance to jump on her, trying to struggle the gun away from her hand, but in the commotion, as she screamed in shock, she pulled the trigger in the unfortunate direction of your brother's heart, making him fall to the ground.

"What... Did you just do...?" you could only stare in disbelief at the pool of blood forming around the corpse of your poor brother. "What did you do? WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!" you couldn't believe your eyes - Your only family, the person you loved so much, was rendered nothing but a piece of dead meat on the ground because of the aimless, scared aim of a stupid woman.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I... My grip slipped and --" it was obvious Diane didn't mean to kill an innocent person, but apologies weren't going to bring your brother to life, right?

You could only see red from the anger, feeling genuine, dark emotions for the first time since the tragedy happened, that you couldn't help but climb on her abdomen and punch away at her face, shaking her roughly and just actively trying to kill her with your bare hands, all while your vision was blurred from wrath and sorrow in the form of tears.

You had no idea how long you stood there like that, covered in Diane's blood, deaf to her screams of desperation, blind to the world and unbothered by the pain surging through your arms, until you felt yourself being effortlessly picked up and away from what was now the lifeless body of the blonde fraud.

"That's enough, Y/N. She's dead. There's no more revenge you can inflict on that useless trash." it was Yujiro's time to speak in a passive, low yet comforting voice as his chest was glued flush to your back, stopping you from struggling so much.

"He's dead, Yujiro, he's dead! What the hell am I supposed to do now?! I failed to protect the last person remaining of my family and now I'm all alone in the world. I... I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do now. I have nowhere to go and I'm very pissed off." from all the struggling, the last bit of strength and energy finally left you and you remained lax in his arms as he held you like that effortlessly.

"You lost a purpose, find another. You're a woman, you're not strong, nobody is expecting you to save the world. That's what men are for. Let yourself live and find something to live for. Your brother may have been weak, but he tried to protect his sister until the end, and he wouldn't want you to mourn." you never expected such words to come from this savage Rambo-like man, but somehow, it made you smile through your tears and you find yourself nodding and stealing one last glance at the lifeless body of your brother.

"Sage words, Yuji. Very wise. I'm impressed and surprised." you muttered, slipping out of his grasp. "Any ideas on what to do, then?" you asked, looking around for a tool to burn his body.

"When I'm done with this war, I'll be going back home, in Japan." he spoke, taking out a lighter from his pocket and lit the body up. "Come with me."

"Bold proposition for someone you've just met." you let out a snort of amusement, beginning to walk by his side. "You may end up regretting it. I can be a real pain, you know?" you smirked up at him with a carefree expression on your face, despite how pink your eyes were, or that your skin was still glimmering with tears.

"I'm regretting it already." he muttered, hitting the back of your head playfully, but catching you quickly, realising your were much frailer than imagined.

"Your kindness towards me has been received, we thank you for your donation, here is your receipt. We are sorry, your emotions cannot be returned back, the receiver will be keeping them forever. Please, do consider making another donation soon!" you laughed so cutely that he couldn't help but groan in annoyance and wipe away the stray tears from your face.

"I'll kill you."

[ragingbookdragon]

The Daughter Of Superman, The Adopted Son Of Batman...What Could Go Wrong? PT. 2

Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I should really post my other Kryptonian reader story. Enjoy the angst! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She jerked backwards, eyes widening at the sight of the thick, crimson liquid running down her arm. A shudder ran through her, throat seizing up as she tried to suck in air, her other hand coming up to rub at her arm. Suddenly it was on both hands and she stared at them in horror.

A voice called from below her, pained, but firm. “Superwoman…it’s okay. Don’t—ugh—don’t panic. It’s alright.” The voice was soothing at first, but when she looked down to find its owner, the body next to him took up all she saw, a vicious, gaping hole where his heart used to be.

She peddled backwards, stumbling to the floor, apologies falling from her lips. “I’m sor—I’m so sorry. It was just—he was hurting you and I—I didn’t mean to do this, I swear—”

The boy reached out to her but grunted in pain, hand dropping to hold his side. “(Y/N)—”

Her eyes met his once more, and he could see the tears swimming in her gaze as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She shot from the ground, disappearing in the sky in a blur of red and blue.

He reached for her calling out, “(Y/N)!” He lost sight of her as quickly as she left, and the other two ran up to him.

“Tim!” The taller boy stopped, looking down at the corpse next to him, jaw dropping in shock. “…Oh my god. Wh—what happened?” He looked at the other. “Tim?”

He shook his head, eyes meeting the shorter one. “Bart, I need you to get to Central and find Wally and Dick and tell them to get to the cave.” Bart nodded and spun, taking off in a flash of yellow lightning.

The other boy knelt, picking him up off the ground. “Tim, what happened?”

He groaned, hand moving to hold his side once more. “(Y/N) killed him on accident.” Tim looked at him. “Conner, I can get back to the tower on my own, but I need someone to get to Jason.” He sucked in a breath, reaching up and wiping the blood from his nose though it still bled despite him. “Kori and Roy will probably be with him, but right now, we need everyone who can search.”

Conner nodded, steadying Tim on his feet before rising from the ground; he looked down at him. “Do you know where she went?”

Tim shook his head, grimace crossing his lips as he muttered, “I don’t think we’re gonna find her for a long time.” He glanced up at Conner. “Go. Now.” The boy nodded, flying off, and Tim took a few steps forward before stumbling into a wall. He heaved a sigh, picking up his transmitter from his belt.

He pushed a button, and a few seconds later, a voice came over the line. What’s going on?

Tim frowned and asked, “What’s your E.T.A. to earth?”

Eighteen hours. What happened?

Tim glanced back at the body, the puddle of blood seeming to consume it. “It was (Y/N). She… she killed someone.”

The voice on the line was silent, then it said, Superman is on his way. Call me when he gets there.

The line went dead, and Tim sighed, sliding down the wall. He lent his head back, eyes staring up at the sky, waiting for (Y/N)’s father.

***Later In The Cave***

The group stood in silence, faces molded in a mixture of shock and pain. Tim yelped as Alfred pushed on his side. “Ow shi—Alfred!”

The man hummed, wrapping the cloth around his side. “Apologies, Master Tim.” He tucked an ice-pack between the layers. “With the broken ribs you’ve got, it would be best to keep ice close. I also advise against any harsh movements.”

Tim nodded, gaze turning to the man beside his oldest brother. “Clark.”

The man looked up from the ground, voice stricken as he lamented, “I can’t hear her. She’s…completely silent…” his eyes held a deep and sorrowed pain. “I can’t hear my baby girl.”

The others listened, then Jason stepped forward, expression grim and solemn. “Tim, what exactly happened in San Francisco today?”

The boy looked over at him before dropping his gaze to the ground, sighing, “What didn’t happen out there, Jason?”

Tim shook his head, clearing his throat. “It was a routine mission, patrol the area before getting back to the tower, but Bart called and said that he saw what looked to be a meta-human going on a rampage. We all met up and started fighting, and while it took some time, we managed to get him to an abandoned warehouse complex. Turns out, he not only had super strength, but he could also make copies of himself, and when I figured out that the original was susceptible to damage while he had copies, I sent Conner, Bart, and (Y/N) to fight the copies while I found him.”

He paused, picking at his nails. “What I didn’t expect was for him to throw me into a forklift and break three of my ribs. I tried to get up, but before I could move, his hands were around my throat, and he was lifting me up off the ground.” He absentmindedly reached up, fingers brushing the purple hand-prints around his pale neck. “Everything was happening so fast, and I couldn’t get my bearings in time. My vision started to get dark, and I could hear (Y/N) shouting from behind, and the next thing I knew, I was being dropped again. When I could see and breath clearly again, I looked up, and I saw (Y/N)…I saw her…”

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he glanced up, seeing Conner nodding firmly at him. He let out a breath and said, “And I saw (Y/N) standing there, and the meta-human lying in a pool of his own blood and he had…he had a hole through his chest.”

Quiet gasps were heard around the cave, and Tim looked up at Clark. “It was just an accident Clark, she didn’t mean to do it. She was trying to save me.” The man didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the floor as he swallowed thickly, obviously thinking about what he was just told.

Jason stepped up to Tim. “Do you know where she went?”

Tim shook his head. “No, she took off before I could stop her.”

“So, you’re pretty much saying that she could be anywhere.” Everyone turned their head at the sound of Dick’s voice.

Tim nodded. “That’s why I called everyone here. We need help trying to find her.”

Dick turned to Wally. “You and Bart comb Central.” The two took off, and Dick turned to Kori. “You should take Roy and go check around hideouts the Outlaws frequent.” Kori and Roy made their way to the stairs. “Tim, you sit out and monitor everything. Conner, you can help me and Jason check Gotham. Clark…”

Dick walked over and resting a hand on his arm. “You should go home and tell Lois about what’s happened, then check Metropolis.” Clark nodded, but made no move to go, and Dick squeezed his arm gently. “Clark.” He looked at Dick. “We will find her, I promise.”

Clark nodded again, this time finding his feet; he paused as he reached them and turned to Jason. “Jason?” He turned, waiting for Clark to continue. “I don’t really have any doubt that you’ll be the one to find her tonight…” His voice soft as he asked, “But when you do, will you tell her that I’m not angry at her?” Jason nodded, and they watched Clark leave.

Dick faced them, tone quiet. “Conner, you and I can take North and East Gotham, Jason, you should take South and West.”

They nodded at his words, each moving to the exit. Tim’s voice reached them before they could leave. “Jason! Can you wait for a minute?”

Jason nodded at the others, watching them leave before moving back to Tim. “What’s up?”

Tim hung his head and whispered, “It’s my fault, Jason. I should’ve been more vigilant when I was fighting. If I had gotten up sooner, none of this would’ve happened. I’m sorry—”

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up; Jason stared at him seriously. “Tim, it wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t (Y/N)’s either.” He squeezed Tim’s shoulder gently. “Okay?” Tim nodded and Jason let go, though he saw the tears in Tim’s eyes.

***

Jason crouched atop the ledge staring down at the city, a frown crossing his lips. He didn’t bother to look up at the sound of someone’s boots hitting the rooftop, or when they stopped beside him. “Have you found her?”

He snorted, eyes following a car on the busy road. “Do you honestly think I’d be up here if I had?” He glanced up, seeing Dick slightly grinning at him.

Dick lowered himself on the ledge until he sat next to Jason, legs hanging freely off the edge. The two of them simply stared out at the streets, observing the cars carrying their passengers’ home.

After a few moments, Dick asked, “Where do you think she is?”

He watched Jason shrug and murmur, “I have no idea…I’ve searched everywhere that has any kind of meaning to us and I still can’t find her.” He looked at Dick, eyes filled with trepidation. “I’m worried about her, Dick…she’s all alone out there, thinking about what’s happened, and it’s eating me up.” He shook his head, letting out a sigh. “I shouldn’t have left San Francisco earlier. I should’ve stayed.”

Dick’s eyebrows shot up at his words. “Wait, you were in San Fran earlier today?”

Jason nodded. “Spent the night with her but left in the morning.” He thumped the heel of his armored boot against the wall. “I could’ve stopped that meta and she wouldn’t have done anything.”

“You’re really torn up about her killing someone, Jason.”

Jason turned to Dick, shouting. “Of course I am!” He placed a hand against his chest. “I kill bad people because they’re evil and they deserve it. I wouldn’t want (Y/N) or any of the people I care about to follow the path that I do.” He paused, voice lowering. “(Y/N) is…a good person. She’s kind and caring and she loves everyone with everything she has. She protects those that are innocent and protects those she loves even more fiercely.”

He sighed heavily, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I’d never want her to have to think about the people she kills like I do.”

“You’re telling me you actually think about the people you kill?”

Jason let out a mirthless laugh, his gaze returning to the city. “Contrary to popular belief and what you see when you look at me, I am not a heartless killer, Dick. I know the consequences of my actions, and believe me, I think about them every moment I’m alive.” He stood and looked down at his brother. “I’m going to hit my apartment and take a nap before getting back out there.”

Dick nodded, observing him as he started climbing down the ledge; he called out to Jason. “She’s really changed you in the year you’ve been together.”

Jason snorted, “Don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a reputation to keep.” He paused, hand gripping the ledge as he replied, “ But yeah she has… and only in the best ways, Dickhead.”

“Hey!”

***

The apartment was quiet, just as he’d left it the day before, and he shucked his helmet and jacket off, placing them on the table. He bent over, undoing the laces from his boots, kicking them off before reaching up and pulling his domino mask off, raising a hand to rub the fatigue from his eyes. It was a futile attempt to delay the inevitable, and as he made his way to his room, he mentally took note of how long he needed to sleep before getting back in the field to look for her.

As he walked through the hallway, a quick intake of air sounded through the apartment, and Jason reached to his hip, pulling a pistol. He stepped carefully through the hall, checking the rooms before he came up to his bedroom. Sucking in a quiet breath, he stepped into the room, gun following his gaze as it landed on a huddled mass beside the window.

He walked silently over to it, and upon closer inspection, his eyes widened, voice laced with disbelief as he questioned, “(Y/N)?”

She raised her head, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. “Jason?” she whispered, unsure of herself.

He lowered the gun, placing it on the nightstand before moving to her, hands grasping her upper arms. “(Y/N), we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you call one of us and tell us where you were?” She didn’t respond to him, simply looking down. Jason let go of one of her arms, gently cupping her cheek. “Doll?”

He felt something wet drip onto his hand, and finally, she sat up straight and stared at him. The blanket she’d been covered with fell away, and his gaze dropped to her arms. His eyes widened at the sight of the faint red smeared across her arm. “(Y/N),” He breathed.

“I kept scrubbing and scrubbing, but no matter how hard or how much I did, it wouldn’t come off.” The tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she lowered her head. “I didn’t mean to do it Jason. I just…”

Jason reached for her, pulling her into his arms and hoisting her up. He reclined against the headboard, arms wound tightly around her. “Shh…it’s alright…”

“I killed him, Jason.” (Y/N) pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept yelling for him to let Tim go, but he wouldn’t. I could hear Tim’s heartbeat fading and I just reacted.” She gazed at her arm. “I put my arm through his chest, Jason!” (Y/N) stared at her arm as if it didn’t belong to her body, an alienated limb, then she felt herself being lifted again. “Jason what—”

He said nothing, maneuvering her into the bathroom where he sat her on the sink. She watched as he pulled a rag from the cabinet and reached below the sink for a bottle. He poured the solution into the rag, then gently took her arm, wiping it. His gaze was unreadable, but it was anything but hard; in fact, it was soft, and before she knew it, the remaining blood had been wiped away.

Jason threw the towel into the hamper and turned back to her, cradling her face in his hands. “It’s all gone, (Y/N)…it’s not there anymore.” Her eyes lowered to her arm before they rose back to his, and he pressed his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to think about this anymore, doll.”

“I killed him though, Jason.”

She felt him shake his head and he asked, “What would’ve happened if you hadn’t?” She went silent, and Jason asked again, “(Y/N), what would’ve happened to Tim if you hadn’t protected him?”

Clearing her throat, she whispered, “He would’ve died.”

“No, he would’ve been murdered.” Jason looked in her eyes. “(Y/N),you saved Tim’s life.”

“At the expense of another’s.”

Jason let out a sigh and nodded. “Sometimes that’s the only way…but (Y/N)?” She looked at him and he insisted clearly, “What you did today…does not make you a killer, and it doesn’t make you a murderer…do you understand that?”

(Y/N) blinked at him before looking away and muttering, “…You should call everyone and tell them where I am.”

Jason reached down and picked her up from the sink, flicking off the light and moving to the bed. He lowered her down before crawling under the covers beside her, pulling her to him and raising the covers to their chins.

“I’ll call later.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Right now, the only thing that matters is you.” (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from crying, and a moment later, Jason quipped, “Remember that time that you threw me out of a third story window?”

(Y/N) let out a watery laugh, burying her face in his chest. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you, Jason?”

She glanced up at him, and he leaned down, pecking her nose. “If I keep getting a reaction out of it, probably not.”

(Y/N) searched his eyes for a moment then whispered, “I love you, Jason.”

He nodded, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you too, (Y/N).” He curled his arms around her, caging her to his chest. “Get some sleep…I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She did as he said, tucking her head under his chin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, doll.”

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 2]

WORD COUNT :- 2.3k

Warnings ⚠️: I don't even know if there are any...Swearing maybe?, mentions of kidnappings, actual kidnapping oh and also violence and angst :)

A/N 😋: I got lost while writing this so judge accordingly people. Also forgive me for any mistakes. I TRIED.

Part 1 , Part 3

•°•°•°•°

“JASON STOP!!!!!”, your voice echoed in the silent warehouse.

Jason stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your voice, his mind was brimming with thoughts, questions and worst of all, emotions.

“Well, well, well, look who crawled out of her little cave”, He said smugly as he finally turned around to face you. The voice was his, you’d recognize that voice anywhere but it felt cold, devoid of emotions, hearing him like that sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel your determination slipping.

Even though you had your cowl on, Jason could still see how much his rampage was hurting you but he couldn’t stop now, not when all he had left to do was to capture Joker, beat the living shit out of that asshole and show Bruce how much of a failure Batman’s moral compass really is.

“Well? Got nothing to say now?... Why am I not surprised?”, Jason scoffed.

You took a deep breath, you were breaking down inside but you sure as hell weren’t going to let that stop you. You spoke, voice barely above a whisper,  “Jason...Jay...Stop all this...Please, come home, come back to the--”

“Manor? Home? Did you hit your head (Y/N)? Why in the hell would I ever go back to a place where NOBODY GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, WHERE HE REPLACED ME AS IF I MEANT NOTHING?!”, Jason didn’t want to lose control of himself, not in front of you. So with visible effort he calmed himself down, took a step forward and gave you a deadpan look.

“You all left me”

Your blood boiled at that statement.

“How dare you?! We lost you! We mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, listening to him you wondered whether he truly believed the words actually coming out of his own mouth.

“The Jason I knew was a roughed up street boy who still cared when many didn't, who called Bruce out every step of the way, who had this ridiculous favoritism for bread, who had the guts to take out a tire from the fricking Batmobile”, despite the dreadful situation you smiled remembering those sweet memories.

You looked him in the eye, pleading in a way, and you spoke softly, “The Jason I knew was The Robin to my Batgirl. This-this is just not who you are Jay, not really...So can you just stop?”

He looked unfazed by your words and cocked his head to the side.

“Princess, the only way you can stop me is if you fight me, knock me down real hard, make sure that I won't get back up again. Tell me Batgirl, can you do it? Do you actually have what it takes?”, he waited for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. As expected, all he was met with was silence.

Long, Painful Silence.

With that Jason knew what he had to do, he put on his red helmet and swung out of the nearest window, you couldn't stop him, for all your big talk, you just couldn't. He was right you failed him.

•°•°

You jumped awake with a start, bolting upright and immediately regretting your subconscious decision, the throbbing pain made you clutch the back of your head with your palm and you closed your eyes again to achieve some semblance of reality as a way of grounding yourself.

‘It was just a dream (Y/N)…just...a...dream’

You tried to lie to yourself knowing deep down that it was a memory, something you have already lived through, something you regret everyday. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It felt dry and your whole body was sore. You really should've called in early and then maybe Dick would've been the one stuck in this crapy situation and not you.

Pushing past your perplexed state you got up and took in your surroundings, there were vines hanging from the open roof, a LOT of flowers and some Venus flytraps by the corner. It wouldn’t even take being a detective to figure out where you were; The Botanical Gardens.

“How the hell did I end up here”, you muttered under your breath. This was getting out of hands.

“See Pammy I told ya Girl-Bat would rise and shine by now”

“I can see that Harls”

‘Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, just great, is nobody in Arkham these days’

The duo descended down from the open roof through one of the vines and stood in front of you. Harley looked as happy as a 10 year old about to get their favorite toy and Ivy seemed to be interested in anything and everything that did not concern you. Classic.

“Why the hell did you both kidnap me?”

You jumped forward and grabbed Harley by the collar of her dress, in retrospect it wasn't the best move but it's not like you were thinking straight at the time anyway.

A vine wrapped itself around your waist and you were tugged back by such force that you were sure there was gonna be a big bruise there tomorrow. You skidded across the floor and finally stopped when your back connected with a bench. You were just too drained to fight back so instead you just crawled up and sat on the bench with a grunt.

‘Not fighting my way out of this one so for once let’s try talking’

“Whoa, should ya really be this obnoxious when ya got a concussion?”, Harley burst your thought bubble as she looked you over.

“Wait, Did you just call me obnoxious?!”

“But don'tcha worry I am a doctor and I got a PhD”

“In psychology!”

“I will fix ya in no time”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Just like that you saw Harley leave the room to go get some medical supplies, or well at least you thought that that's what she was going to do, you turned your face towards Ivy hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

“So you both finally done babbling? And here I thought it was never going to end.”, She looked at you from where she was petting her plant, and made her way over to you, something about her seemed genuine. You got the feeling that whatever she had to say, it won't be a lie.

“Try and not mind what Harley does, she's just happy to make new friends for girls night.” She sighed before continuing, “As for your question, last night we were near the Gotham Central Park when we saw a masked man dragging your unconscious body out of a building and into a van parked in the alley, so we kil-- we took care of him and brought you here”, She shrugged as if that explains why the Poison Ivy just saved your life.

"Wait that means Red isn't here", you whispered more to yourself than to others.

“Pam is Red!”, Harley said cheerfully as she came back out nowhere with a bunch of boxes which would've made you very uneasy if your mind wasn't already preoccupied.

“What Harley means to say is that if you are trying to ask about that gun loving leather jacket vigilante who wears a red helmet, then no we don't know where he is”

Her words sunk in and yesterday's memories flashed in your mind, your eyes widened under your mask as the realization hit you like a bus.

The missing people, the creepy mannequins, the medical journals regarding surgeries, the weirdo in the white mask instead of a face, the poster of some Pretty Dolls parlor; Now it all makes sense!

“Pyg!”

"Huh?", the women in front of you almost jumped at your sudden revelation.

“Lazlo Valentin aka Professor Pyg that's the son of a bitch who is behind all this mess, he's the one who has got Red Hood And it's all my fault! Now, He might be dead already! I should've known, I-I should've figured it out quicker, I should've done something, DAMN IT!!”, you buried you face in your hands due to the building frustration within you.

“Don't be like that”, you heard Harley's voice as a hand was placed on your shoulder, she sat down on the bench next to you, you turned your head and eyed her warily, seeing nothing but concern.

“Don't give up. Clearly this Hoodie person means a lot to ya so you get off your ass and go get him, don't you Bat People always find a way”, you looked at her for a moment, then jumped up on your feet.

“Can't believe I am saying this but you are right Harley, I need go and I will find a way to save him, but before leaving I wanna know something”, you looked Ivy in the eyes as you worded your next sentence, “Why save me?”

“It was just my way of replaying you for saving Harls from that clown once”, instead of elaborating Ivy just crossed her hands over her chest waiting for you to leave. You gave her a warm smile, something they are not used to seeing, from a bat of all people.

“Thank you Pamela”

With that you were out of that detour and onto finding the path leading up to Jason.

•°•°

Somehow you reached the safe house without running into some kind of trouble, with how your day has been going, you were completely expecting something else to go wrong. Thankfully it didn't. You took out a spare comms unit, keys for your bike and some aspirin to dull the headache.

Soon you were whizzing past vehicles at full speed triying to contact anyone available at the moment.

“Come on pick up, pick up, pick up! What's the meaning of giving us an emergency button when no one picks the damn thing up”, you spoke into a dead line, wishing you could just bang your head against a wall, on second thought not a good idea.

Two minutes later the call was finally picked up and a screen appeared on the dash of your bike, it was from the batcave and you could see Dick, Damian and Bruce in sitting in front of the computer, Tim was connected from what you assumed to be the titans tower. However Dick was the first one to pop the question.

“(Y/N) what's the emergency? Are you okay? We haven't heard from you since last night”

“Look no time to explain. Jason's been taken by Pyg and I need you guys to give me a location. Now”, you said gritting your teeth as you narrowly missed a truck for the second time this evening.

“Todd's captured? *tt* his incompetence precedes that of Drake”, Damian's snarky remark made Tim snap his head up.

“Hey!”

“Boys”, Bruce's stern voice made them quiet enough for the time being, “Batgirl you are injured and your emotions can compromise the whole rescue, go back to the safe house and let us handle this”, Bruce ended the transmission and it made you angry.

'He said that they are going to handle it, that means they know where he is, so now all I have to do is to get Dick to spill it out'

You dialed Dick back, hoping he would understand what you are trying to do.

“I know why you specifically choose to call me back and No I am not letting you go head first into danger without any of us with you especially when you are compromised”, Dick's tone was stern but laced with concern.

“Dick the last time Bruce said he will handle it, Jason died, look I know what he is trying to say, I get him, I can't blame him for wanting to look after me but you have to understand I have to be the one to get him back”

“Why?!”

“Because I can't lose him again! The last thing that I said to him was that I might never forgive him! Never forgive him for something that's not even his fault! You are my only hope at getting him back, please don't take that away from me, please”, you pleaded with him as you slowed down the bike to a stop.

The line was silent for a while, the thought about saying more to him crossed your mind; what you are feeling about Jason, how much he matters to you, how you've failed him more than once, but ultimately decided against it and instead you just waited for his reply.

You deflated as soon as you realized that the line was cut but the ping of a notification caught your attention; The map to the possible location of Jason.

“Dick Grayson, you big softie”, you smirked, your bike roared as you made your way on to the free way heading fast towards the Gotham outskirts.

Meanwhile at Professor Pyg's 'supervillain headquarters' :

Jason slowly woke up, assessing the situation he quickly came to the conclusion that he messed up and now he is tied up to what seems like dentist's chair.

“Great, there has got to be a new record I've set in this family for messing up and getting kidnapped”, Jason muttered under his breath, he tried to tug at his restraints to get free but it turned out to be fruitless. A blinding light was switch on above him and he grunted due to the intensity.

“Man, what is up with you people and light?! Turn it off already!”, Jason said as he tried to adjust his eyes accordingly, when he came to, he was met with his captor himself.

Jason just stared at the man in front, moving towards him, wearing a pig mask and holding a butcher knife. He has seen enough crazy but this guy might just rival the Joker himself.

“Pyg know you broken. Pyg make you perfect”

“WHAT THE F--”

°•°•°•°•

(I like to think I am funny)

Cute little extra note: Yes it is the second time I'm leaving you guys hanging and NOPE I do not regret my decision.

Tagging: @ladyperceval

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Privileged (Pt 34/?)

Summary: Lincoln’s death proves to be the breaking point of more than one relationship as *yn* and the rest of the group plot how they can take back Arkadia and save their people.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, violence

Notes: Based on 3x10 “Fallen” of The 100.

‘Privileged’ Masterlist

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

*yn* could practically smell the fresh water trickling down the rock surface as the group approached the cave entrance.

They had been walking in complete silence for the past hour. Not a single word had been exchanged, not even a glance had been shared.

The tension was palpable, so thick that *yn* swore she could smell it mixed in with the smell of the fresh dew and wet grass.

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as the group fell into a line as they walked behind a huge boulder, revealing the entrance to the hideout. 

She felt a breath catch in her throat as she turned the corner to see Bellamy standing just inside the cave. His wrists were bound in front of him and she could see that he was chained to the wall. 

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before she averted her gaze and followed Sinclair inside. She could practically feel the rage radiating from Octavia who was following closely behind her. A part of her was scared to even turn around and risk making eye contact with her. 

“Where’s Lincoln?” *yn* winced at Bellamy’s words.

There was a pause and then, “Pike put a bullet in his brain.” Octavia spoke, her voice void of all emotion. *yn* came to a stand still and couldn’t help herself but look up at Bellamy once more. 

He was already looking at her, clearly trying to gage her emotions. She simply stared blankly back at him. Bellamy swallowed, his eyes growing glossy as he looked back at Octavia who still had her back to him. 

“O, O I’m so-”

*yn* flinched involuntarily as Octavia swung around, a grunt leaving her mouth as her balled up fist collided with his jaw. Miller sprung to his feet as Sinclair and Marcus immediately took a few steps towards the siblings.

Bellamy took a step back as he recovered from the blow, his eyes wide as he stared back at his sister. Octavia glared at him for a few moments before she raised her arm again, this time landing two punches on either side of his face in quick succession. 

“Octavia that’s enough.”

“O, stop.” 

*yn* and Marcus both spoke at the same time as they simultaneously stepped even closer. 

“Stay out of this.” Bellamy ordered, his gaze flickering between them both. Blood was beginning to ooze out of freshly made cuts on his cheeks. 

Moments after the words had left his mouth, Octavia descended on him once more. This time landing blows to his stomach and arms. *yn* could see that Sinclair and Bryan were averting their gazes, both clearly feeling queasy at the sight. All it took was another punch for Marcus to crack, shaking his head as he turned his back from the pair. 

She knew that she didn’t owe Bellamy anything, that she should hate him with everything in her for what he did. For how he betrayed her and her friends, her family. But the sight of him wounded and in pain was making her feel sick. So sick that she knew she couldn’t stand by and watch it continue.

“That’s enough, O.” *yn* spoke once more as Octavia shoved Bellamy against a wall to knee him in the stomach. 

“*yn*, leave them.” Elijah murmured softly, gently grabbing her arm to cease her moments.

“Get off me.” *yn* snarled, yanking herself out of Elijah’s grip instinctively as she watched Bellamy sink to his knees, crimson red blood now pouring out of what looked like every inch of his face. 

She distanced herself from Elijah’s hold despite the protests from the rest of the group. In the midst of her rage, Octavia shoved at her blindly as *yn* tried to pull her off Bellamy. *yn* gritted her teeth and shoved Octavia back, forcefully enough that Octavia stumbled back enough for her to shove herself in-between Bellamy and Octavia. 

“Get the hell out of my way *yn*.” Octavia hissed, her eyes burning with rage as she glared at Bellamy over *yn*’s shoulder. 

“No.” *yn* answered firmly. 

“I won’t warn you again.” 

“Go ahead.” *yn* spoke matter-of-factly.

“*yn*-” Marcus began but stopped himself off when *yn* rose her hand to signal him to stop. “No. Let her hit me if she wants.” *yn* answered, her eyes never leaving Octavia’s trembling figure.

Octavia eyed her for a few moments before drawing her arm back, her fist clenching into a ball. *yn* mentally braced herself for the pain as Octavia’s arm began to sail through the air towards her. However, the blow never came as Octavia stopped short just inches from *yn*’s face. 

“Just move *yn*.” Octavia spoke, her voice growing desperate as it wavered and tears streamed down her face.

“No.” *yn* repeated firmly and she knew in that moment that Octavia was not going to harm her. 

“You’ve made your point. Don’t do something that you’ll regret.”

“How can you defend him? After all he’s done, to Trikru, to us - to you.” Octavia snarled. *yn* ensured to keep her face neutral as she locked eyes with her friend.

“There’s been enough bloodshed. Don’t forget who your real enemy is. Pike is still in control of Arkadia. We all need to be at our best if we want to stop him.” *yn* spoke calmly. As she talked she could physically see Octavia slowly beginning to calm down, her fist was now at her side and her chest was beginning to rise less frequently.

Octavia took one glance at *yn* before moving her gaze to Bellamy. Tears were still spilling down her cheeks at a rapid pace, her bottom lip trembling as she opened her mouth to speak.

“You’re dead to me.” 

The silence following Octavia’s words were deafening as the group watched her shoot Bellamy one last hateful look before she stormed out of the cave. The rest of the group did not dare utter another word as they all began to busy themselves with setting up a fire and gathering food to eat.

*yn* stole a glance at Bellamy as she made her way over to her bag. She felt her heart sink at the sight of him, still slumped over on his knees. Heartbreak was evident on his features, his face now covered in cuts that were still bleeding profusely. She looked back at her bag, spying the small medical kit that Abby had obviously packed for her.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath. Letting out a huff as she pulled it out and made her way back over to Bellamy. She could feel pairs of eyes on her as she came to a stop and crouched down so she was eye level with him.

“Sit up.” She ordered, sitting back on her haunches. “Before I change my mind,” she warned as she opened the medical kit on the ground.

Bellamy manoeuvred so he was sitting up right, his back pressed against the cave wall. The pair stayed silent as *yn* began to gently wipe the blood from his face. *yn* glanced over her shoulder to see Elijah staring at the pair. She inhaled sharply and turned her attention back to Bellamy.

Bellamy’s eyes never left *yn*, analysing every inch of her face. He watched as her brow furrowed and she bit her lip lightly in concentration. He wanted nothing more than to cling to her, fall into her open arms as she told him that everything would be ok. 

*yn* could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her and she did everything she could to avoid locking eyes with him. She felt a tug at her heart strings as she places rubbing alcohol into a deep wound and Bellamy winced. Her instincts were screaming at her to envelope him in a tight hug, to run her hands through his curls and whisper comforting things into his ear. 

Those thoughts were quickly drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of resentment that suddenly washed over her. If it hadn’t been for Bellamy’s actions, she would be able to hug him. To kiss him. To love him. But he had chosen Pike over their relationship. She could never hug him like that again.

“Thank you.” Bellamy murmured, breaking *yn* out of her thoughts.

“I’m not doing this for you.” *yn* heard herself answer coldly back. “I know Octavia will grow to regret this one day. If you’re scarred, she’ll be constantly reminded of what she did.” 

Bellamy fell silent once more, nodding feebly at her words as *yn* finished applying the last of the ointment. He glanced down at his restrained hands, blinking hard to keep more tears at bay.

“Lexa’s dead.” He muttered.

“What?” His words made *yn* jerk her hand back from his face and for the first time since she had sat down, her wide eyes locked with his deep brown ones.

“Lexa’s dead.” He repeated. 

“How do you know? How can you be sure?” She queried, her brow furrowing once more as her mind raced at a million miles an hour.

“I know. Trust me on this-”

“Don’t.” *yn* cut him off suddenly, her eyes blazing with a new found anger. “You don’t get to say trust me, not after what you did to me- to us.” She corrected herself. Bellamy eyed her for a few moments, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something before sealing his mouth shut again.

“I need to go talk to the others about this.” *yn* sighed, dumping the cloth beside Bellamy. All too soon, her warm body vanished from his side as she rose to her feet and made her way towards the rest of the group.

“I’m sorry.” Bellamy mumbled under his breath. “Fuck I’m sorry.”

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

“You want some?” 

*yn* looked up from the flames flickering at her feet to see Elijah holding out a palmful of nuts and berries. She nodded, shooting him a grateful smile as she picked up a few and popped them into her mouth.

The feeling of food on her tastebuds seemed to remind her body of how hungry it was and sure enough her stomach let out a grumble. Elijah let out a small chuckle and pushed the rest of the food into her open palm.

“Here, take the rest. You need to eat.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, shooting him another smile which he returned as she greedily shoved the berries into her mouth.

Guilt nibbled at her insides once more at the thought that she was leading Elijah on. Using him as a distraction and a shoulder to lean on.

“We should get a patrol started.” She heard Bryan say. She immediately pushed the thoughts of Elijah to the back of her head. She needed to focus and any thoughts other than survival were a distraction. 

“I agree, although I think we’re too close to the grounder blockade for Pike to come searching.” Marcus remarked.

“Yeah, but are we safe from the blockade?” Bryan queried.

“If we stay on this side of the line we should be fine.” Marcus reassured him.

“They’re grounders. Are you sure they’ll play by the rules?” Bryan spoke back and the tone of his voice caused *yn* and Octavia to send him warning glares.

“What like when Pike played by the rules and slaughtered the army sent to protect us?” *yn* bit back. She clenched her jaw as she glared at Bryan. She could sense Bellamy’s eyes burning holes through her.

“Yeah but-”

“Hey, Pike will want you dead now too.” Miller piped up, raising a brow up at his boyfriend. And everyone knew that what he was really saying was “Are you sure you want to keep arguing with *yn* Kane?”

That message seemed to get across to Bryan who nodded glumly. “If we take Pike out, we can go home.” Elijah added.

“And if we take Pike out, then grounders will lift the blockade.” Harper spoke.

“That’s right. We become the thirteenth clan again, those are the terms.” Marcus nodded. 

“But those were Lexa’s terms. If what Bellamy says is true and Lexa is dead, how do we know the next commander will honour them?” Sinclair piped up, voicing *yn*’s own internal worries.

“One problem at a time.” Marcus shut him down causing *yn* to roll her eyes.

“And what about Clarke? If Lexa’s dead she won’t be safe in Polis.” Miller continued.

“Clarke made her choice.” Octavia snapped causing everyone to turn to look at her. “The only thing that matters now is killing Pike.”

*yn*’s frown deepened. “Octavia’s right. Once we reassume our place in the commander’s coalition, Clarke will be safe.”

“Yeah but we aren’t in the coalition, are we?” *yn* spoke. “Who knows how long it’ll take before we become the thirteenth clan? I know getting Pike is important-” She continued, shooting Octavia a glance, “but Clarke has sacrificed so much for all of us, we can’t just-”

“-We can just.” Octavia cut her off, thrusting her dagger into the ground as she looked at *yn*. “What the fuck is wrong with you? First you let Lincoln die, then you protect Bellamy and tend to him and now you’re trying to stop us from killing Pike because of Clarke? It’s like you’ve got no fucking spine-”

“-Octavia, I understand you are grieving but watch your fucking mouth or-”

“Bellamy, come in.” Bellamy’s radio suddenly crackled to life, interrupting the impending ticking time bomb that was *yn* and Octavia. “It’s Monty, I’m in trouble. Please say you still have your radio.”

Sinclair looked between *yn* and Octavia before slowly grabbing the radio and moved to give it to Marcus but paused. “If we respond and Pike’s listening-”

“Go to channel seven.” Bellamy’s gruff voice spoke up. Everyone turned around to look at him in the corner. “Please say you still have your radio, that’s seven words after the word trouble, it’s code. Go to seven.” He continued, his voice flat and void of emotion.

*yn* eyed him for a few moments before turning to her father who was already looking at her questioningly, seemingly waiting for her to make the call. “Do it.” *yn* nodded, stealing one last look at Bellamy before turning her attention back to the radio. She could feel Octavia shooting daggers at her and felt herself clench her fists at her sides as white hot rage bubbled within her. 

Sinclair gave Kane one last look before hesitantly flicking to channel seven. “Bellamy? Are you there?” Monty spoke.

“Monty. It’s Kane. What’s wrong?” Marcus answered after a few moments, exchanging another glance with *yn*.

“Pike knows that I helped you get out.” He spoke and *yn*’s heart dropped. Even though he betrayed her for his mother, Monty was still family. 

“Can you get to the drop ship?” Kane asked.

“I think so.”

“Go there, I’ll bring you in.” Kane ordered. “Stay off the radio. Over and out.”

“Ok hold on, what if it’s a trap and Pike’s waiting?” Harper queried.

“That’s why I’m going alone.” Marcus sighed as he rose up from his seat on a rock.

“Like hell you are.”

“No way in hell that’s happening.”

Octavia and *yn* both spoke simultaneously, shooting each other glares as they both rose to their full height. 

“They’re right.” Miller added as he got up. “Monty saved our lives, I’m going too.” 

“No you’re not. If it is a trap, I’m not marching our entire group into it.” 

“If you don’t want me going, you’re going to have to kill me.” Octavia answered as she shrugged on her jacket.

“She hopes it’s a trap.” Bellamy remarked dryly causing Octavia to shoot him a glare.

“I’m coming.” *yn* spoke up, locking eyes with her father. “Someone needs to make sure things don’t get out of control.” She added, raising a brow as she glanced at Octavia.

“Well he’s coming too.” Octavia bit back as she turned her attention to Bellamy. “We need a hostage to trade for Monty.” Her tone mocking as she sneered at her brother.

“It’s a good plan.” Kane admitted. “We’ll keep him chained, someone gag him.”

*yn* bit her tongue as she glanced at Miller to see him already looking at her, clearly trying to gage her reaction. He could tell she wasn’t pleased.

“Sir, with all due respect Bellamy’s-” Miller began.

“-He’s the enemy.” Marcus cut him off, sending *yn* almost a pointed look before looking back at Miller. “Do as I said.”

*yn* inhaled a sharp breath, attempting to mask her displeasure at her father’s words as she moved to go begin collecting her things. “Are you sure you want to go?” Elijah’s voice piped up from behind her.

“There’s every possibility that it’s a trap.” He continued once she had turned around to lock eyes with him.

“I’m sure.” She nodded, looking over at Octavia who was sharpening her sword. “Octavia’s a loose cannon right now. I need to look out for her.” 

“You sure that’s the only person you want to look out for?” Elijah queried, unable to hide the jealousy woven through his tone. Regret slapped him in the face the second the words slipped out of his mouth and he could see *yn* visibly flinch at his question.

“Are you seriously bringing this up right now?” *yn* snapped, feeling her face flush at his unexpected question. 

“*yn* I-”

“I can’t deal with this right now, we can talk about it later.” 

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

“Can we talk?” 

Octavia ripped her eyes away from the path in front of her to see that *yn* had fell in line with her.

“About?”

“Take a stab at it and have a guess.” *yn* huffed.

“Not literally though... please.” She added and Octavia couldn’t stop the sharp chuckle of amusement that passed through her lips.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Octavia admitted, throwing *yn* off guard.

“Oh I-”

“I know that you couldn’t have stopped Lincoln. It wasn’t fair for me to say that. And Bellamy-” Octavia cut her off and glanced over her shoulder.

“-I know it’s easier said than done to completely cut off someone you love. But what I said to him was true. He’s dead to me.” She continued, her face hardening as she spoke.

A few moments of silence passed between the pair as *yn* racked her brain to think of something to say. But as she opened her mouth to finally speak, Octavia beat her to it.

 “Look, I mean it when I say that I’m sorry, I don’t blame you for Lincoln’s death.” Octavia sighed as she came to a stop, turning her body to look at *yn*.  “But I do blame my brother and Pike. And if you come in-between me and killing Pike, I won’t hold back next time.” 

Before *yn* could even process the words that had just left Octavia’s lips, she was already turning away from *yn* and marching towards the drop ship once more.

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

“We’re about a minute out from the drop ship.” 

“I’ll scout the perimeter.” *yn* spoke, slinging the gun that was draped over her shoulder into her hands. “Keep close to each other.” She said before splitting off from Octavia, Marcus and Bellamy. 

She moved as stealthily as she could behind the makeshift fence that her and the other delinquents had made to keep the grounders at by. That battle seemed like a lifetime ago now.

“Monty?” She heard her father call out as she came to a halt at an opening in the fence line. It was just big enough that she could squeeze through if needed and allowed her an almost perfect view of the drop ship entrance.

 There was complete stillness as *yn* positioned her gun on a small ledge, placing her finger on the trigger as she waited.

“Get outside! Now!” Octavia bellowed suddenly. *yn* looked over her gun to see that she now had her blade pressed to Bellamy’s throat.

*yn* watched with bated breath as the flaps of the drop ship fluttered and a shaky Monty Green edged out into the sunlight. Her finger flew back to the trigger when Pike stepped out behind him, a gun pointed right at Monty’s temple.

“They followed me. I-I’m sorry.” Monty spoke quietly.

“Let him go Pike!” Kane yelled, but *yn* could see even from where she was standing that he was beginning to shake slightly.

“Can’t do that.” Pike answered calmly. 

A gun shot suddenly rang out, narrowly missing Octavia’s foot. *yn* immediately begun scanning the forest in the direction that the gunshot had come from.

“It’s over. Put down your weapons.” Pike ordered as he stood directly behind Monty, completely erasing any chance of *yn* or Marcus getting a clean shot.

“Come on Marcus.” Pike goaded as another shot rang out. “I promised Monty’s mother that I’d bring him home alive, don’t make me a liar.” 

“Fuck.” *yn* muttered under her breath as she watched her father relent, dropping the machine gun to the ground with his hands raised in defeat.

“Now you.” He ordered to Octavia, who promptly brought her blade closer to Bellamy’s throat. 

Her eyes darted around rapidly until finally she spotted one of Pike’s men peering out from behind a tree. She didn’t waste any time, steading her hand and holding a breath as she trained the rifle onto the target. 

Pike’s head jerked up in surprise as the bullet found it’s target, hitting the man square in the shoulder causing him to let out a groan as he dropped to the ground. 

“*yn*, that wasn’t very nice.” Pike drawled, shaking his head before muttering something into his radio.

Octavia let out a yelp in surprise as Bellamy suddenly gripped her arms and yanked the sword out of her hand. He overpowered her quickly, pulling her down so she fell to her knees. 

*yn* reacted instantly to Bellamy’s betrayal, her rifle finding another one of Pike’s men. This time the bullet went through his bicep. 

“You shoot one more bullet and a bullet will end up in Monty’s skull.” Pike threatened, clearly growing angry at *yn*’s defiance. “And you know I’ll do it. So reveal yourself *yn*.”

*yn*’s finger wavered over the trigger as she locked on to another one of Pike’s soldiers. She glanced over to see Monty shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as Pike pressed the gun further into his temple. “Shit.” She cursed, finally relenting and chucking the gun to the ground.

Pike’s face lit up in smug victory as she inched out of her hiding spot with her hands raised in surrender. “Very good.” He smirked before letting out a shrill whistle.

A dozen more soldiers immediately sprung out of their hiding spots and hurried towards their group. Octavia groaned as soldiers forced her hands in front of her and placed cuffs on her.

*yn* didn’t even flinch as two men grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly forced her hands together to bound them with rope.

“You don’t look so good.” Pike remarked to Bellamy as he leant down to pick up Octavia’s dropped weapon.

“I’m fine.” Bellamy answered back as he glanced over at *yn* who was currently staring daggers at him.

“You’ve got about five seconds to make me believe that you’re still with me.”

“All the other’s are in a cave not far from here-” 

“You motherfucker-” *yn* spat, moving to step towards him but was immediately stopped by two pairs of hands gripping her shoulders.

“You son of a bitch!” Octavia shrieked at the same time, however she was able to break free of her captors hold. *yn* could do nothing but watch in horror as one of the guards stepped forward and shocked her with an electric baton. Octavia fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, her eyes fluttering shut as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

Pike barely spared her a glance before looking back up at Bellamy. “Give me the coordinates.”

“I don’t have the coordinates.” Bellamy immediately answered. “But I can take you there.”

Pike eyed Bellamy for a few moments before nodding. He stepped forward and cut Bellamy’s hand restraints. “Gag the prisoners, we’ll head out immediately.” 

*yn*’s body tensed as she watched Bellamy approach her, the gag that had been over his mouth now dangling in his hand. “Don’t fight me on this.” He warned as he came to a stop in front of her.

The two other guards nails were basically digging into her flesh as they held her still. Her eyes narrowed as their gaze met fleetingly. There was something in his eyes. He was pleading with her to keep quiet, but there was something else. Something that she could not quite place her finger on. Despite every fibre of her being screaming at her to fight back, she didn’t. Instead she stayed perfectly still as he gently placed the gag into her mouth and tied it behind her head. 

“Let’s get going.”

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

*yn* pressed her tongue against the material in an attempt to alleviate some pressure. She knew Bellamy had tied it looser than most would, but the fabric was beginning to mix with her sweat and rub painfully against the corners of her mouth.

She was walking beside Monty who was occasionally stealing glances at her. She looked ahead of her and studied Bellamy’s figure for a few moments before her eyes flickered to her surroundings. They had initially begun on the right path to the cave where the rest of their group was hiding. But *yn* swore that they should have started to travel south a few minutes ago. 

“You sure about the route?” Pike’s voice broke the silence. “We’re getting close to the blockade line.”

“Kane intentionally set up out here, didn’t think we’d risk it.” Bellamy answered and her heart rate increased when she sensed a subtle edge to his voice.

“Well he was wrong.” 

*yn* risked a glance behind her to lock eyes with her father and she knew with one look that he’d picked up on it too. She ensured to keep her face neutral as Bellamy suddenly began to lead the group down a small slope.

Right towards the blockade line.

“Hold on.” Pike ordered causing the entire group to come to a sudden halt.

“It’s alright, the cave’s just on the other side.” Bellamy assured him and if *yn* didn’t hate him for what he had done she could have leapt into his arms and kissed him right then and there.

“Keep a sharp eye out.” Pike ordered, his gaze meeting *yn*’s briefly. She kept her face void of all emotion, simply staring back at him until he turned his head once more.

She inhaled a sharp breath as the group began to move forward, half of them completely oblivious that they were about to cross into grounder territory. All it took was one more step from Bellamy and a loud warning horn sounded, echoing through the trees.

“The blockade!” Pike shouted, grabbing his rifle immediately as he frantically looked up at the trees. “Anybody got eyes?”

*yn* watched as the panic grew in his eyes as the rest of his soldiers muttered frantic ‘no’s’ back at him. “Back to higher ground!”

*yn* watched as Pike turned around and the second his back was turned, Bellamy leapt forward and grabbed the gun out of his holster. 

“Drop your weapon!” Bellamy thundered, pointing the gun at Pike’s head.

“What the hell are you doing?” Pike yelled back, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and fear.

“Drop your weapon!” Bellamy repeated. *yn* saw one of the soldiers move to aim their gun at Bellamy and she reacted instantly, stomping on one of their feet and using this as leverage to swing her other leg around to knee them in the stomach. The man moaned in pain and *yn* swung around, pressing her boot onto his back to send him hurtling to the ground.

She could hear grunts from behind her and she knew that Octavia was doing the same.

“We bring you Chancellor Pike of the sky people.” Bellamy continued, his eyes never leaving Pike as he spoke. “O, can you translate?”

“osir bring yu chancellor pike gon skaikru!”

“You’ve killed us all!” Pike snarled.

“Take him and lift this blockade.” Bellamy continued, ignoring Pike’s words.

The second that the translated words left Octavia’s lips the sound of arrows whistling through the air echoed in *yn*’s ears. She jerked her head around as the bodies of Pike’s men hit the floor, dead before the could even touch the ground with arrows protruding from their chests.

She could do nothing but watch as dozens of grounders suddenly appeared from the trees and the thick undergrowth, all surrounding them within a matter of seconds. 

As *yn* bent down to grab a knife out of one of their pockets to cut herself loose, she saw Octavia doing the same thing out of the corner of her eye. “Octavia no!” She shouted when she saw her grip the knife and glare at Pike.

Kane reacted instantly, grabbing her by the waist seconds before the knife in her hands embedded itself into Pike’s chest. 

“No. The Grounders are going to need him alive. They didn't get justice for Finn. We won't get away with that again.” Marcus warned her as she struggled against his hold.

“Well in that case.” Pike spoke before swinging around to shoot Bellamy. 

Before *yn* could move to stop him another arrow shot through the air, landing in his shoulder. One of the grounders stepped forward and landed a blow to his temple. *yn* watched unsympathetically as the grounder kicked him in the stomach as he crumpled to the floor, knocking him out cold. 

“Where are you taking him?” Marcus asked as the grounders stepped forward and picked up Pike’s body.

“To the new commander.” The grounder answered as *yn* hurriedly pulled the gag down to around her chin and made her way towards them.

“May I join you?” Marcus asked, pulling up his leave to reveal the mark burnt into his flesh before *yn* could protest. “We’re the thirteenth clan.” 

The grounder eyed it for a second before looking at Marcus. “Don’t slow us down.” He warned before stalking away.

“Dad, what are you thinking? We don’t know anything about the new commander.” *yn* queried the second the grounder was out of earshot. “*yn*’s right, what if they won’t even honour the deal we made with Lexa?” Bellamy piped up.

“I have to try.” Marcus answered. “Being the thirteenth clan is the only way that we survive.”

“Then let me come with you, you need someone to look out for-”

“No *yn*, it’s too dangerous. Especially with them thinking that you’re malak al maut, the new commander may want to take your power for themselves.”

“But I-”

“Go home with the others, tell everyone what happened here.” Marcus cut her off, stepping forward to embrace her in a tight hug. “Our people will need a leader now that Pike’s gone.” He mumbled into her hair. “And I’ll look out for Clarke.” 

“I’ll tell Abby.” *yn* murmured as she realised that despite every bone in her body wanting to protect her father, that he was right.

Marcus smiled softly and nodded in thanks, finally releasing her from his tight grip. “Come on *yn*, I’ll help you out of your cuffs.” Monty offered. *yn* gave her father one last look before mumbling a ‘coming’ and following after Monty, leaving Bellamy and Marcus alone.

Marcus took a few steps forward so that his chest was only inches away from Bellamy’s. He looked over Bellamy’s shoulder to ensure that the others were out of earshot before locking eyes with Bellamy.

“Did you do this for *yn* and Octavia, or because it was the right thing to do?” He asked.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, “you’re welcome.” Marcus gripped Bellamy’s forearm, ceasing his movements as he leant in closer. 

"It matters. Until you see that, you'll still be lost." 

With that Marcus gave Bellamy one last earnest look before turning on his heel and following after the grounders that were already out of sight. Bellamy eyed his retreating figure for a few moments before making his way over to *yn* and Monty.

*yn* glanced at Bellamy warily before looking back at Monty who was shakily cutting the rope binding her wrists. “My mum turned me in.” Monty mumbled to her as he finished freeing her from her constraints.

She was so angry at Monty for betraying her and the others but as she studied him for a few moments she couldn’t help the wave of sympathy that washed over her.

“We should head back to the others as soon as possible.” She muttered, glancing at both Bellamy and Monty once more before turning her attention to the dead bodies of Pike’s soldiers to see if they had any weapons on them that may be of use. She crouched down over one of the men and began to fish through his pockets.

“You’re family.” She heard Bellamy murmur to Monty. “You’ll figure it out.” He spoke once more and *yn* glanced up in time to see Bellamy patting Monty on the shoulder comfortingly.

She jumped back when the body in front of her suddenly sprung to life. The soldier gasped as he began to sit up, but unfortunately for him he didn’t get very far. 

*yn* flinched as Octavia leapt forward and plunged her dagger into his chest, killing him instantly. She watched with wide eyes as Octavia pushed the knife even further into his flesh as she locked eyes with Bellamy.

“Jus drein jus daun.” She spat venomously. 

Her eyes were dark with blood lust, swimming in the desire for violence and revenge. It was enough to send a chill down *yn*’s spine. She watched as Octavia’s face went as still as stone as she emotionlessly pulled the knife out of the soldier’s chest and began to walk in the direction of the cave.

*yn* swallowed before flickering her eyes up to see Bellamy’s gaze was already fixed on her face. The pair eyed each other for a few brief moments before *yn* rose to her full height and followed after Octavia.

Even though neither had said a single word, *yn* knew exactly what Bellamy was thinking. Despite everything that Bellamy had done, they now had one thing in common.

Both were seriously worried about Octavia and what she was capable of doing.

Part 35

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

osir bring yu chancellor pike gon skai kru = we bring you Chancellor Pike of Sky Crew

Jus drein jus daun = blood must have blood

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

EEEEEEP, *YN* AND BELLAMY BACK TOGETHER AGAIN (KINDA)!!!  As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

TAGS:

@captainpineapplesbloguniverse @moodboards57 @reyeswritings @sheebthezeeb @endgametike @badbitch101 @previouslyforgotten @nutterbutter2885 @earthtobear @istlynn18 @illyrianbae @fandomcrib @mick--schumacher @wanheda101 @princekooks​ @lilulo-12​

[rrickgrrimes8]

Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

 Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired. 

One man fell. 

Then the next. 

And then the last. 

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man. 

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now? 

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers. 

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man. 

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn. 

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing. 

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?” 

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily. 

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.” 

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face. 

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

~

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it. 

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you." 

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response. 

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here." 

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room. 

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited. 

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to. 

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you. 

"I already told you," Coldly you returned. 

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted. 

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to." 

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?" 

You sighed, "I was following you." 

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?" 

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive." 

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath. 

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?" 

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you." 

"So let me go," You promoted. 

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically. 

"Why not?" 

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?" 

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?" 

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?" 

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy." 

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home." 

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety. 

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either." 

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head. 

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?" 

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

[morosemagick]

Listen, Before I Go | Finan x Reader One Shot

Welcome to my first one shot/first Reader!Fic.

Be gentle, I'm trash.

Warning: Major Character Death, (its sad, okay, idk what else to say.)

Words: 3847

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @lauwrite1225

You had seen many things in your life as a traveling healer. Wounds and illnesses alike, taking you from place to place wherever people may need you. Taking care of people was in your blood. Both your parents were healers, and you planned on using all they taught you to care for people around the world. And yet, when you met Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his crew of accident-prone warriors in the aftermath of the battle at Tettenhall, something inside you told you to stay. A feeling in your heart, telling you that no one will ever need you more than they would. Over the months that passed, that feeling proved true. You healed every cut, bruise, and battle wound they would come to acquire. Each wound healed was a bond growing stronger with each man in Uhtred’s service, including your lord himself.

Osferth, the first of the Coccham boys you healed. His kindness was always warming to the heart. Sihtric, who spoke often of his wife and joked about his desire to return to her in one piece. And of course, Finan, whose laugh made your heart skip a beat and smile did things to you that was certainly ungodly. They were your family, and you loved them all dearly.

And you would do whatever it took to save their lives.

Especially now, when they needed you most.

“Sihtric!” You scream out at the sight of him, bloody and broken. The snow falls thick and heavy around you, stained red with the Danish man’s blood and Osferth and Finan work together to lift him from the ground.

“We got him, Y/N, just go!” Finan yells out, and you nod okay. The storm is picking up and though the raiders that ambushed you are dead, none of you are out of the woods yet.

Up ahead is a cave. It’s cold and dark but it’s dry, and getting Sihtric out of the storm is your main priority.

“This way, to the cave!” You call out as you lead the men forward, being sure to check for any unfriendly creatures that might be hiding out from the storm inside. When the coast is clear, you wave the others on.

As carefully as they can, Osferth and Finan lower Sihtric to the ground. The injured warrior groaned as he touched the ground, “We need to make a fire.” Finan tells the rest of you.

“Did anyone see Lord Uhtred?” Osferth questions, making you and Finan glance at each other.

You shake your head no, and then Finan looks back to Osferth, “He must be with Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Should we look for them-”

“We can’t,” Finan cuts him off, sighing, “We must stick together, make a fire, and take care of Sihtric.”

“I will tend to Sihtric,” You tell them, “Go get what you need for a fire but please stay close, this storm is only getting worse, and finding your way back might get harder.”

Finan nods okay, and the two men leave as you bend down to check up on Sihtric. He’s breathing heavy but he’s still alert so that has you at ease. Checking his wound on his side, it doesn’t seem bad but it will definitely need stitching. His skin, however, is freezing to the touch and that makes you nervous, “That bad?” Sihtric chuckles the best he can, his eyes looking so very tired.

“Not at all, you needed stitches. That’s all,” You tell him as you look through the pouch tied to your belt.

“You are a bad liar, Y/N,” He huffs, looking up to the ceiling of the cave, “Tell me, please.”

Biting your lip, you sigh and glance away, “You're freezing, you need fire or you may get sick.”

“I could have told you that,” He laughs but the motion makes his side hurt and his laughter turns to a wince.

“You must rest, Sihtric, please,” You tell him as you find your needle and thread, “Eahlswith will not forgive you if you do not make it home in one piece, remember?”

“Ealhswith,” He smiles slightly, and then grunts as you start to clean the wound, “I miss her.”

“And you will see her soon, I promise,” Glancing up, you can see fear in Sihtrics eyes, and it breaks your heart, “I swear it, Sihtric.”

He only nods, and you continue to care for him in silence.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Time has passed, and the fire has been made, but it’s small and just barely enough to keep you all comfortable so to make up for the lack of heat you all huddle close to each other. You are to Sihtric’s left, Finan is to yours, and Osferth is on the other side of Sihtric. Sihtric’s wound was cleaned well but he is still very cold and you’re trying your best not to show how worried you are. As you take a deep breath, you let out a shiver and it shakes your whole body.

Noticing how cold you are, Finan scoots closer and wraps his arms around yours and holding it tight, “You alright, Y/N?”

You glance momentarily at Sihtric, who's currently half awake with his head on your shoulder and his eyes on the fire ahead of them, and then look back at Finan, “I am.”

It’s a lie. You’re terrified.

Terrified of losing your friends, of dying to the cold, but mostly you’re terrified of not being able to keep the oath you made to Lord Uhtred and yourself to keep them all safe. It’s killing you inside.

Sihtric is shivering to your right, his cold body against yours sending chills down your spine.

“Alright there, Sihtric?” You ask him, though you know the answer. Instead of staying strong, you can feel him shake his head no. His fear brings a tear to your eyes, “It’ll be okay.”

“It will not,” Sihtric whispers, making everyone else suddenly alert to how beaten he’s feeling.

“It will be, Sihtric, we will get out of this mess like we have every other mess Uhtred has gotten us into,” Finan tries to joke in an attempt to keep everyone’s spirit up.

“Uhtred isn’t even here,” Sihtric tells him, his head still rested on your shoulder, “We might never see him again. I might not-”

“We are getting out of here,” Osferth adds, “God will see us through this.”

“He is not my God, Osferth, he does not care if I live or die,” Sihtric argues.

None of you have seen him so defeated before.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” You tell Sihtric as you turn your body to face him, forcing him to lift his head up. You can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold himself up, and it’s hard for you to keep a calm expression. You grab Sihtric by his face and put on your best smile, but your eyes are still watering and the wind outside has made it so unbearably cold; so at this point, you don’t know if you have it in your heart to lie to him. So you don’t, “I know you are cold, and you hurt, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get home to Coccham. To your wife, and to your son.”

Sihtric nods okay, but his eyes tell another story as he starts to cry.

Past his shoulder, you can see Osferth is also looking mighty defeated as his own eyes start to get red, and behind you, Finan’s hand has gripped your cloak and tight.

And then, to make matters worse, the fire dies.

“Fucking bastard fire!” Finan growls loudly as he kicks the still hot wood with his foot, making soot spread, “Fuck!” His scream echoes throughout the cave as he gets up and stomps around in anger, and you look away from Sihtric as you start to cry, biting your lip in hopes of keeping your fear to yourself.

On the tips of your fingers, you feel Sihtric’s tears falling down.

“Finan, sit... please,” Osferth calls out, and you can hear his voice cracking, “Being angry will solve nothing.”

Sihtrics’ crying has worsened, and now they can all hear him.

You pull him closer to you, cuddling him like a child in your arms, trying your best to keep him warm. His sobbing is enough to shake you both, but you keep your grip on him strong. Osferth scoots his body closer to Sihtrics, putting his arm around his brother, and to your left, you can hear Finan return to his seat. After a moment or two, you can feel his arms wrap around your waist and hold you tight.

At least if you die, it will be next to those you love the most.

The four of you sit this way in silence for some time, the only things you can hear are Sihtric crying and the strong snowy winds blowing outside the cave. You have never been a very religious person, but at that moment you find yourself praying to every god you can think of to save the ones you love.

A moment later you hear Sihtric sniffle, and shuffle a bit in your arms before he sighs and speaks, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing for us?” He asks, and you nod yes.

If you can bring him comfort now, in what very well might be his final hours, you will do whatever he wishes.

“Take me to the rooftop. I wanna see the world when I stop breathing. Turning blue,” You rest your cheek on top of Sihtric’s head, and your eyes glance away as you continue, “Tell me, love is endless, don't be so pretentious. Leave me, like you do. If you need me, wanna see me, better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon,” There's sniffling in the air as you sing, you can hear Osferth shuffling, probably to get closer to Sihtric, and you can feel Finan’s arms grip you tighter. “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out but down, mm down.”

You move your left hand down to where Finan is holding you tight, and he moves to grab it, squeezing it as best he can. His hand is lacking a glove, and yet you can feel his warmth.

You hold on to that feeling as you continue singing, “Taste me, the salty tears on my cheek. That's what a year-long headache does to you. I'm not okay, I feel so scattered, don't say I'm all that matters. Leave me. Deja vu. If you need me, wanna see me, you better hurry. I'm leaving soon,” Finan’s head is on your shoulder, you can feel his breath on your neck. It makes you think of all the times you should’ve kissed him. You should have told him. Probably too late for that now, though, “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out, but down, mm down. Write my friends and tell them that I love them. And I'll miss them... but I'm not sorry. Write my friends and tell them that I love them, and I'll miss them…”

Sorry.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

The men have been asleep for some now, but you’re still awake. You have been staring at Sihtric all night, watching his chest rise and fall. Making sure his chest still rises and falls. A couple of times you’ve even put your fingers to his lips to make certain that he’s still breathing. Anything to make sure he’ll survive through the night. On the other side of him, Osferth is sound asleep, you can hear the man snore just slightly, and see him cuddled against Sihtric’s side.

The inside of this cave is freezing but you know it’s better than being out in the storm.

“Y/N?” You hear Finan whisper, “Are you up?”

“I am,” You whisper back, your fingers hovering just above Sihtric’s lips. Still breathing, good. You roll over slowly to not wake him, and when you are facing Finan, you sigh, “He is still alive, thank God.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Finan asks quietly, his eyes a red mess.

You shrug, not wanting to lie right now, “I do not know, Finan,” You shake your head, and the tears are building in your eyes again and your next words barely make it out, “I fear the worst.”

The tears fall down your cheeks and you try your best to not cry too loudly because you fear waking them more than you do crying in front of the man who’s stolen your heart. Finan reaches out to hold you by your cheeks and you can feel how warm he is still, it’s not much but enough to feel wonderful against your cold face as you cry. He shuffles his body closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your face as you open your eyes.

You don’t want to die without him knowing how he makes you feel. How he makes your heart flutter. How he fills you with so much life.

How loved he makes you feel.

“Finan- I need to tell you something,” You get yourself ready to say the words, but he stops you with his finger on your lips.

“Tell me in the morning, Y/N,” He’s smiling, but his eyes are red and full of tears.

“But what if we don’t make it to morning?” Your voice cracks, and instead of answering Finan leans in and kisses you. It’s warm and delicious, and you want to kick yourself that it’s only happening now when you might not live to see another day because your body is cold but kissing Finan now fills your soul with so much warmth.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a terrible way to die.

The two of you stay like that for a while, and you're trying your best to etch every inch of him into your mind as he pulls you in closer by the way to deepen the kiss. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like coming home, and when you finally break apart the content smile on his face says he feels the same.

Finan leans back in, kissing your face over and over again. Making sure to kiss away all the tears that have stained your cheeks and then finding his way to your neck, “If I didn’t fear waking them, I’d pull my cock from my trousers and warm you with that.”

You try to bite your lip to contain your laughter, but a snicker comes out anyway, “I’m sure that is that last thing either of them would like to see now.”

“Aye, but what a sight it would be,” He smirks, leaning in for another kiss, “But If I’m going to bed you, Y/N, it will be properly I swear it.”

“I will hold you to that,” You tell him with another kiss, and as you move to separate you can see the expression on his face shift and the mood become more somber, "We should try to sleep. We need our energy."

"You sleep, I'll keep watch," Finan tells you, kissing your forehead.

"Nothing is going to hurt us here but the cold," You try to tell him, "Please try to sleep, Finan."

"I will, Y/N, let me just hold you for a while," Finan nods for you to turn around and you comply, and a moment later his arms are around your waist again and he's kissing behind your ear. Then, barely a whisper and more like wind, you can hear him say something in your ear, "Tá grá agam duit."

It's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You wake from your sleep in a cold sweat, your heart racing as you rise quickly from the ground. The first thing you do is turn your body to your right to check on Sihtric, and to your surprise you find him sitting up and wide awake.

It brings tears to your eyes.

"Oh thank God," You can't help but say at the sight of him.

Sihtric smiles slightly. He looks tired, but he's alive and that's all the matters, "Good morning, Y/N."

"How are you feeling?" You ask as you lean over to put the back of your hand on his forehead. He's warmer than he was last night, which is a good sign, "Warmer? Is your wound okay?"

"Looks like you did it again, Y/N," Osferth calls out as he enters the cave with firewood in his hand, "Told you you’d be okay." Osferth drops the wood where the original fire once sat and then walks over to Sihtric and ruffles his hair, "Lord Uhtred will be pleased."

You chuckle, wiping your face of tears, and then suddenly you remember last night and Finan.

With a smile still on your face you turn to your left, where you can see his body still lying there, "Finan, it's morning-" the moment you put your hand on him your smile fades and your heart drops as you notice something very important. His fur cloak isn't on his body, but on yours and Finan is cold, "Finan?" You shake his shoulder as you call his name, the frantic sound of your voice getting the other’s attention, "Finan!"

Osferth rushes to your side just as you turn him on his back, and you place your fingers to his lips and can barely feel a thing. Osferth, however, has his hand on Finan’s forehead, "He's burning up."

"I cannot feel his breath," You tell Osferth as the tears hit you quick, and your breathing is all over the place, "Finan, come on, please-" you start to pump at his chest to get his heart moving, breathing into his mouth to help him get air. You do both this over and over again, trying not to let the sobbing stop you, "Come on, Finan, please!"

"Y/N?" You can hear Sihtric's voice question you from where he sits, the sound of fear clear.

You keep going, refusing to give up on him. Thinking about the other night.

You still haven't told him-

"Y/N," Osferth calls to you, but you do not stop, "Y/N," He tries pulling you away, but you keep going, and going, but now Osferth is pulling a little harder, "Y/N, please-"

And just as Osferth is about to tell you to stop, Finan starts to gasp for air and your heart can beat again, "God, thank you," you cry as you pull Finan close to you, taking off the cloak he gave you in the night and putting it back around his body. He's breathing lightly, but he's breathing so that's good enough for now, "You're okay, Finan, you're okay." He lifts his hand up to grab yours and you place a kiss on the top of his head.

“It seems your God is with us, Osferth,” Sihtric chuckles from behind them, making you and Osferth look back at him with a smile.

“We need to get out of this cave,” Osferth smiles, patting your shoulder as he rises to his feet.

“Why, when you’ve seemed to have made it home?” The voice from behind you has you all turning heads, a shocked and pleased look on your faces when you see Lord Uhtred has found you, “Y/N, what have you done to my men? They look awful.”

You laugh in relief at the sight of him. It seems all the Gods have heard your prayer.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You all get home to Coccham in one piece, and you’ve never been happier to see your little home in your whole life. They leave Finan with you so you can watch him recover, and you do not mind giving the Irishman your bed. It’ll take him a few days to heal, and after everything that has happened, you’d prefer to keep a close watch on him. Sihtric and Ealhswith stop by to visit, partially so you check on Sihtric and partially so Ealthswith can thank you with meals for bringing her husband home.

Osferth and Lord Uhtred stop by as well. Finan isn’t always awake so they usually sit by his side for a while. Osferth prays and you think Uhtred might too.

You are cooking dinner one evening when you hear movement in your bedroom, and the sound of something falling over. You immediately rush to the other room to find that Finan is trying to sit up, and has knocked a cup of water to the floor.

“What do you think you're doing?” You giggle as he leans back down, feeling grateful to see him awake.

“If you wanted me in your bed, Y/N, you only needed to ask,” Finan jokes as you walk closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed, “What happened?”

“You’re a fool, that’s what happened,” You tell him as you put your hand to his forehead and he is no longer burning, which is good, “You had a fever, almost froze to death,” Your smile fades as you take a deep breath, “I thought I lost you for a moment…”

“A fever?” He questioned, looking generally lost, “I don’t remember a fever,” He reaches out and takes your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles, “But I do remember some things. You were going to tell me something, were you not?”

You smile and lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll tell you when you're out of this bed.”

Finan laughs, using his other hand to reach out and hold you close from your neck, “Will you now?”

“You have promises you have to make good on first,” Your smirk as you lean in closer.

“Oh and I plan on making good of them, Y/N,” Finan tells you in a low voice that makes you squirm.

You chuckle as you lean in even closer, “God is good.”

“Aye,” He smirks as he hovers over your lips, “Praise him.”

Oh, you do. You thank him later that night in bed as you ride him and Finan makes good on his promise to warm you. A bed that Finan ends up never leaving and now you share together. You praise him on your wedding day, and multiple times on your wedding night. You praise him a few months later when you find yourself pregnant with your firstborn, and again when you give birth to your first son. You thank God for every child you have after, and every moment with this family of yours; made and found, that you decided to stay in Coccham and make it your home.

You thank God, all the Gods, for every moment they bless you with.

Even once your husband passes on.

And one day, when you're old, tired, and lying in the grass surrounded by the ones you love most you thank him one last time; before you go, for blessing you with such a life.

Grateful to go out under the heat sun, taking in the world one last time.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Second And Third Chance- Tony Stark x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: favorite dilf- i’m sorry lmao

   Movie/Show: after endgame. but no one is dead because i’m still in denial.

   Summary: (Backstory included) Being the fiancee of Tony Stark was all you could dream of, but not everyone is perfect and Tony is certainly no saint. Even with Thanos being gone, Tony is still obsessing on how to keep you safe from other worldly beings, but due to his own ignorance ends up losing you all by himself. 

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: angst with fluff ending, cursing, Tony being Tony, F.R.I.D.A.Y and Wanda being your besties lmao, 

    ☼-☪-☼

   you wondered how you were ever came across such a man. Narcissistic, arrogant, just completely full of himself in every way possible. You had met the infamous Tony Stark at a shield ball/party so long ago. He was charming, you’ll admit, but you were fully aware of his playboy status. 

   you wore a long black off the shoulder dress that started skin tight at the top and flowy at the bottom, also sporting a slit down the side of the dress. Some said hi and gave you compliments on your outfit. You wanted to find Fury so you could talk to him as he was the only person you really knew. 

   walking along the floor a woman holding a platter of drinks offered you one and you gladly accepted it. You spotted Fury a few tables away, talking amongst Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. Once you made it over, you slipped yourself into a empty seat. 

   Fury noticed you first and patted your shoulder “Didn’t think these parties were your scene Agent L/n” he spoke with his usual formality. You hummed into the glass of wine as you took a sip “They are not, but i needed a reason to drink” you admitted, earning a chuckle from Natasha. 

   you then took the time to look at both of them and smile “Natasha Steve. Still doing the whole saving the world thing?” you say. Steve cracks a smile and nods once “The world can’t seem to give us a break” he says. A chuckle bubbled in your throat “Not that you would take it though, right cap?”

   you four spent a good thirty minutes talking about the usual, until Maria Hill showed up then you got to talking about new missions that he Fury only trusted you all with. You were like Fury third in command. Someone Maria had recommended if something would have ever happened to her. 

   not to long Natasha and Steve had left the party earlier then expected, but they were always in the rush. You, Fury, and Maria were now standing next to the table. Maria’s phone rang and she slipped it from her bag and pressed the green button “Yes?...Give me ten minutes” 

   she hung it up and put it back in her bag. Fury looked at her with a questioning stare “I’m going to assume Romanoff or Rogers were on the end of that line. Would the rest of us be needed?” he asked. Maria shook her head “No. Just a minor problem. I’ll call if it escalates”

   Fury nods once and gestures with his head to the exit, dismissing her. They were so loyal to each other. Maria then sends you a polite smile before exiting the ballroom. You placed your cup on the table were you all resided minutes ago “Should we be concerned?” you ask. 

   he shakes his head “They’ll be fine. I like to come in at the end anyway, makes me alluring” he says, making you stifle a bit of laughter. “Right” you agreed not really wanting to dwell in that subject. Only seconds later is when an unfamiliar voice spoke “Nick”

   both you and Fury turn around and see the nice tailored suit belonging to the less nice man of Tony Stark. Fury cracks a small grin and holds his hand out “Stark, fashionably late” he points out. Tony grabs his hand and shakes it “Well if i wasn’t i’d be stuck looking like you losers.”

   did this grown man just call you both losers? Okay then. You folded your arms over your chest, not really paying much attention to there very testosterone filled conversation. Tony eyes removed themselves from Fury and looked at you “and who is this?” he asked. 

   you removed your eyes from the people walking past you and looked towards the billionaire “ This is Agent L/n. works alongside Agent Hill and myself” Fury explains. You give Tony a polite nod “It’s Y/n L/n” you say. Tony grins and went to say something more when Fury coughed. 

   “I’m going to use the bathroom. Tony don’t be weird” he spoke before leaving you both by your lonesome. Great. “May i offer you another drink?” he asked and you shook your head “I already had one and i have to be alert at all times. It’s in the job description. Very fine print”

   “Sounds like you need a vacation or a xanax” he makes a face, earning a small smile from you “Maybe, but i like my job too much” you reply. Tony steps to the side and gestures with his hand for you to walk. You didn’t see much wrong with that, just a friendly stroll. Why not. 

   you step in forward and Tony lifts his arm up a bit for you to link yours. ‘What a charmer’ you thought before slipping your arm through his. YOu both began to walk slowly through the ballroom “So what does your significant other think about how much you work?” he asked. 

   ‘very slick’ “I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment. Tried dating on the job, but no one really understands how much working here changes you in a way” you explained, Tony nodding along with your answer. Being an Agent had its perks and downfalls. 

   “Why did you get into this line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony questions. It was strange seeing him be so genuine with his wording, the complete opposite of what Fury, Steve, Natasha, or Maria had to say about him. It was pleasant.  

   you gulp, a few choice memories deciding to flood your mind “I worked CIA with my sister for awhile. Our whole family was worked in some form of Government job. Then the 2012 attack happened and we were told to stand down. Me and my sister were stubborn so we didn’t”

   you inhale deeply and managed to keep your formal smile upon your face despite the urge to down another glass of wine and call it a night “No one knew about aliens back then, but we wanted to help people in any way we could. In hindsight it was very stupid of us”

   your mind began to wander to something else, the smile fading from your face and be replaced with a blank stare. For an expression so neutral it would be hard to tell that you were reliving a terrible memory. Crashing, a blood curdling scream, your pleas, and a then silence.

   Tony looked at you once you had stopped talking abruptly and used his free hand to pat your shoulder. You broke out of whatever horrific trance you were in “Sorry, zoned out- anyway my sister ended up passing, i was charged with treason funny enough, but Fury convinced them to drop the charges”

   Tony chose to ignore the brief daze you were in for your own sake and you two continued your stroll. The night ended with more talking and much needed laughter. He also offered you a ride home and you gladly took him up on that. It was really nice. 

   when you got to your house he asked you on a date to a very nice restaurant near your place. You accepted even though your brain was telling you not to. On the day of the date you ended up being called in and canceled. He said he understood and that you could reschedule anytime. 

   you never did go on that date 

    ☼-☪-☼

   just like most things it only happened once and you figured that was that. Spending a couple magical hours talking to Tony Stark would be any girls dream and just like dreams you awoke to reality. You had a job and had many other important things to do beside fantasize about a billionaire. 

   that was until Hydra took over Shield in 2014, you and Fury faked your deaths. Tony actually went to your funeral, wearing sunglasses and standing away from everybody. It was pretty sad, but you had a job to do. fury actually came back, but you stayed in hiding.

   then in 2015 when Ultron was a the main problem and you were itchy to bash some robots skulls in- wait they don’t have skulls. Whatever, Fury wouldn’t get involved. Then Sokovia became a giant plane and Fury caved. After a year of doing grunt work you could finally fight. 

   all the staff, including you loaded up a helicarrier. You made your way to the command center where Fury and Maria resided “Ah Agent Y/n. Glad that you could join us. Already suited up i see?” Fury points to your all black outfit and mask. 

   shrugging, you walked towards the front “I’ve been ‘dead’ for a year, cut me some slack for being excited” you say. Fury nods, agreeing with your statement before facing forward. “Set a course to Sokovia and making it fast” Maria announced.

   and with that, you were off

    ☼-☪-☼

  Maria hacked into the Avengers coms and connected Fury’s, your’s, and her own. “Where else am i gonna get a view like this?” a woman said through your earpiece. You instantly recognize it as Nat. You missed her so much, god you couldn’t wait to talk to her again. 

   “Glad you like the view Romanoff. It’s about to get better” Fury spoke, folding his arms behind his back, interlocking his hands. The helicarrier started to raise above Sokovia. Holy shit this is high. As you ascended you were able to see Nat and Steve standing together. Nat cut her hair, it looks pretty.

   rest of the staff began to enter the command room and set up “Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple old friends. She’s dusty, but she’ll do” he spoke. “Fury you son of a bitch” Steve said right back. Did he just curse? That had to be Ultron. 

   “Woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury said with a fake surprised tone. His comment made you chuckle a bit since he had a foul mouth. Hypocrisy am i right? “Altitude is 18,000 and climbing” Maria spoke, typing away on her keyboard like desk. 

   another guy spoke up from behind you “Lifeboats secure to deploy, disengage in three...two...take them out ” he clicked one final button and sat back. You felt the helicarrier rumble beneath you, which meant the lifeboats were being sent to the ground.

   oh shit. You were supposed to be on one of those. “Shit!” you yell before running out the command room. You raced down the stairs and made your way to the deck. You watched as a lifeboat flew right below. This is such a bad idea. Your doing it anyway.

   taking a couple steps back, you mentally prepare yourself before running as fast as you could. As you touch the edge you jump and launch yourself off the helicarrier. The lifeboat came closer to you until your shoulder collided with it. You hissed and slowly pushed yourself up “Damn- that’s gonna sting”

   “Did you just jump off the helicarrier?” Fury says through the coms

   “Who did?” Steve spoke

   “Oh you know, backup-” Fury replies before Maria cut in “Sir we have multiple bogeys on our starboard flank” she spoke and indeed when you looked up you saw a bunch of Iron man suits flying above. Oh shit. “Show them what he got” he replied back. 

   you reach down and pull both guns out the holsters that were on both of your thighs “It feels good to be back” you said to yourself. You heard something fly above you that wasn’t a Bogey and saw War Machine- Rhodey blasting through a bunch of them. He’s pretty cool.

   just as you were about to bask in the moment a Bogey landed on the lifeboat and came charging at you. It swung and you ducked just in time, lifting your foot to kick it in the chest. As it stumbled back you raised your gun and shot it straight in the head.

   the literal lights behind its glass ‘eyes’ flickered until it shut off and it fell to the ground. “It better not be that easy to kill the actual Iron Man” you spoke. “And your not gonna find out” a voice spoke. You turn around and see Tony in his suit, with his arm raised, ready to attack you. 

   you raise your hands “Woah- What the hell Stark!” you shout. Oh shit- you had a mask. “I’m on your side” you add. Tony tilts his head “Really, prove it” he says. You slowly move your hand. as to not startle him and slowly pull the mas down from your face “Hey Tony”

   he visibly tensed up. His mask retracting back into his face. Still has handsome as ever. He reaches up with both arms and takes off his helmet, dropping it to the side. “So is faking your death a Shield initiation thing or you just really didn’t want to go out with me?” he asked. 

   you cracked a smile and dropped your arms to your sides “I told you work gets in the way” you said. He went to say something when four Bogeys landed on the lifeboat. Damn you couldn’t let any on until you landed. Tony groaned dramatically and shot one in the chest, causing it to fall off the ship.  

   “No. See regular work doesn’t involve faking your death. I went to your funeral you know?” he says. You drop off and push off the seat and onto the Bogey, wrapping your thighs around its head. You push the barrel of the gun against the top of its head and shot “I know. I was there!” you shout.

   “Oh that’s just great. You saw me all vulnerable and teary” he says with a scoff. what was happening right now. You drop to the ground and the Bogey grabs your leg, pulling you back. You shot it in the arm and it lets go “I actually didn’t know you cried. That’s kind of cute though”

   you shoot the Bogey in the head and stand up on your feet. Just as you are about to take a step, a metal arm wraps around your neck, pulling you back. Oh yeah there was four. You went to reach behind as Tony shot through it’s head. The grip around your neck was released and you pushed it’s corpse off.

   “Your welcome” Tony spoke, he still sounded snappy. “Your such a baby Tony. What can i do to make you stop moping?” you ask, putting one of your guns into the holster. You look behind you as the lifeboats pull up next to Sokovia “One date after all this. So i can show you what you missed of course”

   you crack a smile, pulling your hood off your head. You raise your hand and hold up one finger “One date. That’s it” you say and he nods along “That works for me” he replies before picking up his helmet. He puts it on his head “But you’ll come back for more” he says as his face is covered by metal once more.

    ☼-☪-☼

   present

   you ended up did going on that date with Tony and he was right, there would be multiple date and girts until he finally asked you to be in a relationship. It was any big grand gesture that you expected from him, it was simple and sweet. It took him three years for him to propose in 2018.

   but he was always one to wait. 

   the second battle with Thanos, but everyone seemed to be somewhat recovering, but Tony wasn’t himself anymore. You already knew he was a workaholic, but it had never been this bad. He’d stay up all night working on new tech. Security, suit adjustments, anything. 

   when it first started happening you chalked it up to his response to trauma. One night you suggested he’d go to therapist. Just one session and if he thought it would work then he could continue and vise versa. Tony ended up shooting down the idea with a couple harsh words. 

   it was strange to see him yell at you because he had never done before. It was like you were talking to an entirely different person. It scared you to be honest, but you loved him. A whole year after Thanos had gone by and he was just falling deeper and deeper into his work and less into you.

   “Friday, is Tony awake?” you spoke, pouring coffee into a black mug. You place it on the silver tray and grab the light beige cardigan off the counter, slipping it over your white sports bra. “Yes Miss. Would you like me to inform him your coming down to the lab?” Friday asked.

   “No that’s alright. I’d rather surprise him. Thank you Friday” you say and grab the tray off the counter, it had a mug of coffee and a plate of pancakes. You knew he wouldn’t have eaten already “Just doing my job Miss” she replies. You smile to yourself. You liked listening to her accent. 

       ☼-☪-☼

   you push open the door with the side of your hip since your hands were full “Tony!” you call out, looking around the lab one time. You stop as you see your lovers head pop up behind a machine you were unfamiliar of “Y/n? What’re you doing up? It’s late” he said, putting down a tablet.

   you roll your eyes and walk over to the big table in the middle, placing the tray down “It’s nine in the morning, love” you reply. Was he starting to lose track of time now? This place needed more windows clearly. Tony put on a confused face as he scratched the back of his neck “Really?”

   nodding, you lift up the mug of coffee from the tray and make your way over to Tony. You dodge a few tools laying on the ground and hand him the cup “Drink” you say. He takes it from you and brings it to his lips “Thanks” he says. While he drank you studied his face. He looked so exhausted.

   it broke your heart

   “You look terrible by the way” you comment, causing him to crack a small smile. “You said yes to this face, remember that” he retorts. Well he wasn’t wrong about that one. “That is true, seriously i want you out the lab today and into bed. Tomorrow is an important day”

   Tony goes silent for a moment and you can tell he was trying really hard to think “Tony” you said, your voice sounding like a mom who was getting ready to lecture there child for forgetting to do homework. “I know i know- important day. Can’t wait for that...day”

   you narrowed your eyes “Friday” you called out. “Yes Miss” she replies instantly. “Read me Tony’s schedule that he set for himself for the week” you ask. Tony steps forward, but you take a step back, moving away from him. “There is nothing on Mr. Stark’s schedule this week Miss” 

   wow

   moving away from Tony, you walk over to the table “It’s our anniversary tomorrow you ass” you snap at him. Tony sighs and runs his hand over his face “I’ve been busy-” “You’ve never forgot it before” your tone was unusually calm, which through Tony off. 

   “Thanos is dead Tony” 

   “I know-”

   “Then what are you doing?!” you shout, shocking yourself at the loudness of your own voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe!” he exclaims. Your fist clench. God you loved this man, but you wanted to punch him in the nose “You know i thought that you would get over this, but i can’t take much more”

   your words seem to scare Tony a bit, but you continued to speak “It’s been a year Tony. You don’t sleep next to me, we barely talk unless it’s me making sure you don’t fucking starve to death, we haven’t been intimate in god knows how long. I’m tired of being neglected”

   crying for a man was so pathetic, so you reached up and wiped any forming tears away with your thumb. Tony reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. You wanted to push him away, but he hasn't hugged you in so long, so you gave in. 

   he rubbed the back of your head as you let a few tears fall onto his shirt “I’ll stop okay- look i promise i’ll get some sleep and will have a whole day together okay?” he says. You were mad and you wanted to scream at him, but you also loved him and wanted to give him a second chance.

   “Okay, but i swear Tony. You screw this up and-” you were cut off by him placing his lips on yours. Damn Stark. You smiled lightly into the kiss and pull away a couple seconds later “and you’ll throw me out on my ass i know.” he says. 

   you ended up making Tony go to sleep in your shared room while you cleaned up his lab and such. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   the anniversary, night 

   you were waiting outside a restaurant since Tony wanted to show up in his car to ‘swoon’ you wearing a black jumpsuit, it was his favorite color on you You looked at your phone and noticed he was about ten minutes late, but that didn’t worry you much since he liked to be fashionably late. 

   he’d come. He wouldn’t risk his last chance.

   would he?

    ☼-☪-☼

   after two hours Happy ended up picking you up and taking you back to your home. He apologized for Tony a couple times, but you said it was fine. Once you got home you kicked off your heels at the door. You were kind of running on autopilot just in shock and realization at the same time.

   you knew what you had to do, but at the same time you didn’t want to, but it was over. You gave Tony a chance and he blew it. Nine years down the drain in a flash. You just couldn’t believe it. Walking down the hall, you wipe your face from the warm tears.  

   shutting the door to your shared bedroom, you go over to the closet “Miss you seem to be in distress is there anyway i can help?” Friday spoke. For an AI she was very self aware on feelings. “Is Tony awake Friday?” you ask, going over to your closet. “No Miss, he is asleep in the lab. May i call someone for you?”

   you open the closet and pull out a suitcase you had in there and bring it over to the bed “Call Wanda” you say as you unzip the suitcase, opening it up and throw it on the bed. “Of course Miss, contacting Wanda Maximoff” she replies. After a couple seconds you hear her voice. 

   “Y/n? It’s late, are you alright?” she asked. You had confided in Wanda about your relationship problems with Tony since you were both in a long term relationship. You had also told her about the anniversary thing and Tony’s last chance. she said if it didn’t work out yo could stay at her place.

   “Hey Wanda- uh. Yeah i know it’s late but-” you didn’t get to finish speaking when Wanda cut you off “Are you crying? Tony didn’t come did he? Know what? i’m on way. He better like a car through his window” she threatens, you could hear her moving around and the sound of keys. Well damn-

   you began to grab your clothes from your dresser and stuff them in your suitcase “He’s sleeping, just pull in the front. I’ll send you the gate code okay?” you say, beginning to take off the jumpsuit you were wearing. “Fine, but no promises if i see him in the street. I’ll see you soon Y/n, goodbye”

   Wanda hung up the phone “Friday-” “I sent Wanda the gate code. Before you leave would you like to leave a message for Mr. Stark?” Friday asked. You grab a dark green sweater and jeans from your dresser and throw them on quickly. You didn’t bother to pack the jumpsuit. 

   you wanted Tony to know why you had left so he could see the consequences of his actions and so that he wouldn’t tear the city apart thinking you were kidnapped. “I will, can you record a holographic message?” you ask. “Yes Miss, also Wanda will be arriving in 15 minutes”

   “Okay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Tony awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring off into his ear “Shit. Friday shut that off!” he groans, lifting his head from the table “Yes Boss” she replies and the alarm shuts off. “Y/n has left a message for you to listen too. It is very important” she adds.

   “Play it” he says going to lay his head back down on the table “It is a holographic message, Boss” Friday says. Tony begrudgingly lifts his head and leans it on his arm “Play it” he repeats. A second later you appeared sitting on the chair at the table with a blue hue around you. 

   “Hey Tony” you spoke a half smile on your face. tony would have found comfort in it if he doesn’t your puffy eyes and saddened expression. His head lifted on his arm “Remember our anniversary, you know your last chance and all that? Yeah.” you began. Tony sighed mumbling curses under his breath.

    “I care about you, i have since you talked to me at the Shield dance, but i haven’t been your first priority in a while and i get it, but you promised when i left Shield that you would always make time for me. I know that Thanos shook you and you won’t admit it, but you need realize that something bad isn’t lurking around every corner”

   Tony watched as you reached up and rubbed your eyes, the scene tugging on his heartstrings “We need a break from each other Tony, just for a little while. I’m going to stay with some friends. Please try to help yourself, get out the lab, clean yourself up, all of that.”

   you pulled something off your ring finger and placed it on the table. Tony looked down and saw the silver ring with three aquamarine stones. He remembered proposing to you with it. You said the color reminded you of his reactor. Weirdly enough your hologram looked up at him and smiled. 

   “I’ll be waiting” you said and then flickered away “That’s the end of the message, Boss” Friday says. Tony slowly picked up the ring off the table. You had recorded the message in hear, talking to his sleeping body. He wished he had woken up. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   three months later

   staying with Wanda was fun, but after a month or so you decided to get your own place. As much as you loved your big house you shared with Tony you bought small cabin well away from the city. It was quiet, it was outdoors and you loved it. 

   when you and Tony got engaged you ended up retiring from Shield so you could be more at home and help Tony with his work, but now even though you didn’t need a job you also didn’t like the idea of sitting on your ass. In that night of packing you put your old suit in there while on autopilot. 

   It took awhile, but you called up Fury and he was more than happy to let you back in “What does Stark have to say about all this?” he asked and you just sighed quietly “What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him” you replied and he didn’t ask any more questions after that. 

   getting back into your old life was pretty easy. All you needed was to get back into your regular exercise regiment that you had been lacking on and you felt more confident than ever. You didn’t feel neglected or forgotten, the complete opposite, you felt badass. 

   one day when you were walking out the store after picking up some groceries you felt eyes on you as you walked along the sidewalk. After years of being an Agent you knew when you were being followed. What was strange was that it felt like someone was watching you from above.

   having a hunch at who it might be you quickly looked up and see a quick blur of red and blue swing away from your vision. Was this kid following you? but why? You duck into an alley way and walk slowly. You hear him drop behind you and follow your steps. 

   “Peter”

   “Hi” he replies in nervous tone. You turn around, placing your free hand on your hip “Why have you been following me all week Peter?” yopu ask. You haven’t talked to Peter in months. Did he need something? Peter lifts his arm and grabs the top of his mask, pulling it off of his head. 

   he was lucky you were in a remote part of the city “Mr. Stark told me you weren’t together at the moment” he starts, looking at his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright” he says and flashes a toothy grin. Aw- wait. “Did Tony ask you to check on me?”

   Peter shook his head “No. He’s been busy with setting up the new senteries and therapy- i mean i don’t know. I just missed you and i can tell Mr. Stark is trying to change, but i hate to see you both so sad. I couldn’t imagine not being with Mj” he says. This kid was too adorable. 

   not only that he went out of his way to see how you were doing. Wait- what did he say about Tony “What senteries?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Peter started to fidget a bit “Uh- i really have to get going-” “Peter” you said in a demanding tone. 

   he exhaled deeply, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this “Mr. Stark has a whole line of senteries to sell to the senator so he can finally retire from being Iron Man. Not fully retire just on a long term vacation- that’s what he called it.” he spoke. Holy shit- you hoped he had done this for himself

   and you as well- but mostly himself

   a smile creeped onto your face. The most stubborn man you had ever met changed. “When does he plan on doing this?” you say to Peter “A dinner party this weekend. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until it was done. He was going to do some grand gesture to show you he’s changed” 

   you shook your head and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Don’t be. For once i’m doing the grand gesture”

    ☼-☪-☼

   saturday 

   after figuring out and planning on when and where you were going to show up you decided to tap into Friday’s systems and watch most of his speech then find Tony when the time was right, preferably when he was alone. Being with Tony for so long you figured out a way to enter your shared home, undetected.

   once you were in the building you hid away in a spare room that was never used “Friday show me the room Tony’s in” you spoke, pulling out your phone “Yes Miss” she spoke and on your screen you saw Tony in the dining room. You lift your phone and flick it so its projected off the screen.

   your eyes latched to Tony as soon as it turned on. He looked so different and healthy. It was pleasing to see that he was doing much better. You were also glad he took your advice. A warmth invaded your chest, it’s like you fell in love with him all over again. 

   gosh how you wanted to run into his arms that very moment. 

   “So Stark, why retire now?” the senator asked, taking a sip of wine from the glass he held. Tony seemed to tense up the question, but no one noticed other then you and Tony himself “If you asked me three months ago i would have told you to go to hell and that i don’t need to retire”

   “and now?”

   “Well back then i had my fiancee and thought i was the king of the world. Then i lost her because of my workaholic nature- also i’m not retiring Iron, Man will still be here for whoever needs him, but i think it’s time i put my future wife first if i want to keep her” he shrugs his shoulders casually.

   most at the table were stunned into silence before the senator lifted his hand for tony to shake “I guess Tony Stark does have a heart” he spoke and Tony shook his hand. You felt something warm come down your face and reached to wipe the tears away.

   god- what a charmer. Always knew just what to say.

   “Well this was fun, but my finacee i’ve been talking about is actually here on the moment” he said. Wait what? You looked at the screen as Tony’s head turned towards the camera, sending you a wink. How the hell did he find out?! Tony grabbed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper.

   “Happy will show you all out” Tony waved them off before walking out the room “If you step out the room you’ll be able to meet Mr. Stark in the hallway” Friday spoke. Oh so she snitched. Betrayal at it’s finest “Thanks Friday” you spoke before stepping out the room. 

   as you turned your head you come face to face with your husband to be, except he seemed nervous? “You look great- well you always look great” Tony says, making you form a smile “I’m proud of you” you say back. Tony reaches up, using this thumb to wipe away a stray tear. 

   “That means a lot coming from you. I can’t believe i let you slip away” his voice got darker, a frown forming. “I’m right here” you open your arms out. tony takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But seriously Tony i will really leave you next time”

   he nods “I know i know. You can have the whole house if i do” he says, making you chuckle. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes, silently making up for lost time. “Oh my god Tony Stark if you don’t kiss me right now-” you didn’t even need to finish before his lips were on yours. 

   the kiss was desperate and starved for a deeper feeling. Who knew one person could miss another so much? After this, you speculated you’d be stuck to his side like glue for a couple weeks before he say something stupid to piss you off. 

   Tony’s hands traveled lower and lower until they gripped the back of your thighs, causing a familiar feeling to bloom within you. He pulls away from your mouth and his lips attach to your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Zero to one hundred real quick. 

   “Tony” you breathed out. You could feel the smirk against the skin of your neck. Horny bastard “Tony seriously” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. He pulls away and looks at you ‘I’m trying to seduce you. Why are you interrupting?” 

   you shake your head and hook your arms around his neck “I love you, you idiot”  you say, trying to catch your breath. A ego filling grin decorated his face as he pecked your lips “I love you too. Now let me get back to work” he says and goes back to kissing your neck and his hands worked off your belt.

   yeah- you were in love 

    ☼-☪-☼

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    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: Eh this kinda sucks. requests are open and my taglist. Anyways, peace

[srose-foxfire]

Damirae Week 2021 - Day 6

“Towards Home” Day 6: Pets / Animals  

Raven was very much exhausted as she reached a clearing in the woods. She leaned against a pine tree to catch her breath and steady her over-beating heart. Part of her was just tired from running non-stop but the other part had been scared. Raven had stood there in Damian’s study, he had brought her there to show her the enchanted rose that somehow regained its magical glow. She had thought some good had just happen instead Damian’s character completely reverted back to when they first met. The moon had passed over most of the night sky, dawn would be nearing. They needed to find shelter, rest, and continue on with their journey-

Raven had noticed Sombra had perched on a nearby branch and was staying rather very silently as it looked to the right where the forest was denser. The young girl managed to keep her breathing steady and moved around the tree she was leaning against. From the shadows of the forest, there it emerges very carefully. The creature she once saw, the first time she had fled from the castle, the one that had softened her fall, months ago. Scared Raven hid behind the tree, she heard Sombra squawk angrily towards the unusual invader.

The strange creature then lowered its head and whimpered. Raven peeked from around the tree and gaze at the creature, as it lay down, keeping its large head between it thick paws. Sombra from the top of the trees continue to squawk and swoop down, trying to scare off and protect its mistress.

“Sombra stop.” Raven said sternly as she carefully walked around the tree. “You are not trying to hurt me…” She stops just a foot away from it. “That day we met, when I fell, you saved me didn’t you?”

Whatever this strange creature was, raised it head to her height, perking up it ears. It looked almost like an overlarge dog but transformed into a terrifying creature to be feared by anyone who dared gaze at it. The large dog’s head was long and square-like, with black pointed ears, it had very short fine black fur, and its eyes were dark. It was definitely bigger than Damian’s beastly form.

Very carefully, Raven reached out a hand and stroked behind its ear. She gasped when the large dog started licking her hand and wag it large tail. Raven couldn’t help but giggle, Sombra then landed next to them and looked up at the creature with curious eyes. It hopped near it, before long the large dog, sniffed him and licked him. Sombra squawk and flew up on top of the creature’s head.

“I don’t suppose you know someplace we could stay. We happen to be homeless at the moment.” The large dog, only grunted turn it back and lay down. Raven knitted her eyebrows together but cautiously got on the large creature. She wasn’t sure if she was seated properly, she never once ridden  a horse or any other rideable animal. It took her through the thick forest but avoided any loose branches so she wouldn’t get scraped. The black large dog walked on top of a hill and in the distance could make out the point of the towers of Wayne Castle. Turning her head, Raven looked back to the path as she noticed they were nearing a cave.

-- -- --  

Morning came and Raven woke up to the smell of wet moss and dew drops. In the distance she could hear some playful barking, curious she walked outside the small cave which she came to conclude was the large dog’s home. Exiting the cave Raven found Sombra flapping and jumping as he played with their unusual friend. She gave out a laugh as it looked like the two were old friends despite their forms and size. How could this creature be evil, she wonder? Dick had mentioned that a large black monster, probably this large dog, guarded the castle.  Yet she didn’t see no monster, Raven just saw an oversized playful dog that only wanted to protect and play.

The large dog-like creature barked happily and zoomed past Raven, going back inside its cave. Sombra flew onto Raven’s shoulder as they both waited for the creature to emerge from its home. It return outside, holding some sort of round band in it mouth, walking gracefully towards Raven, it handed her the round band.

“What do you have here?” Raven asked ash she took the band in her hands and inspected it. A dog collar. Raven lifted a brow and examined the black band. It was a knitted black collar, with many threads out of place, probably due to being worked out. She noticed a silver rusty-round tag, both sides engraved. It took Raven a while to decipher the text since some words had been scratched from years of being out in harsh weather, or scraped against rocks; Raven could only assume. She was able to decipher one side and her eyes widen when she read, what was the address to the tag:

If found, please return to

Prince Damian Al Ghul-Wayne,

~ Wayne Castle ~

Raven looked from the tag to the large dog, she flipped the tag around and read the name engraved: Titus. This creature was Damian’s dog, she had seen an old portrait of a small black Dane puppy sitting in a meadow of dandelions. Raven would sometimes find Damian looking at that portrait in the parlor.

Raven’s chest suddenly starting aching remembering what Damian had told her last night. “When the witch cast the curse and she transformed me, she said she would take everything I held dear would be gone.” 

The witch, she took everything that Damian ever cherished. Then a sudden thought crossed her mind, Damian mentioned that the rose had become a symbol of good fortune, but even it’s light faded. Though last night it regained the light he had mentioned, after Raven touched it. Some good has come from the curse, them meeting was proof of that. Could Damian believed she would had been fated some terrible fate if she continued to stay with him? Could that be the reason why he ordered and scared her off from his castle? Raven only prayed that it was true, that he had acted the way he did to only protect her. No one had ever done that for her.

Raven had never felt like she belonged anywhere, she never had friends, or ever shared a holiday meal with anyone but herself. She always looked out for herself back in Trigon’s lands. Raven had always been alone till she befriended a lone raven during her travels, then she came upon Wayne castle. Where she met the most unusual cursed family who immediately welcomed her into their home, except their youngest member. Though over time even he opened up and they became friends.

Raven felt her chest ache as she thought of the Wayne’s, imagined what they were doing this late morning. She gasped when she realized she had started crying as Sombra and Titus watched her. It occurred to her Raven never once thought of leaving or asking Damian to leave the castle. Not after she learned so much from everyone, not after spending some ‘girl time’ with Kori, Cass, and Stephanie. Raven wanted to do more holiday meals and celebrations. She had so much fun when they all danced and laughed together. How could she think of leaving when each day, Raven wanted to read to Damian another book she discovered in the castle’s library.

Raven slumped down to her knees and continue to cry. Titus and Sombra came next to her, her pet raven perched on her knees while Titus whimpered and nudge Raven’s shoulder with his nose. Raven petted them both as her tears started to dry up, “let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damian hadn’t slept resulting him being very much tired. His siblings had tried to get him to eat but he was rather dead inside. He paid no one any attention. The places in his castle where he once found solace were no longer bearable, he couldn’t stand it. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her.

Damian needed to find a way to move on and forget all about the girl that came to his castle months ago. He should had made her leave that day she first walked into his home, then he wouldn’t be feeling like this. Damian felt his heart turned over inside of him, he left weak and vulnerable. At any moment he could break out into tears again. He had fallen madly in love with Raven, and now she was gone.

Damian laid in a corner of the parlor, the same parlor where they had all celebrated the end of the year’s celebration together. Where Raven had made Damian dance with her to the off-beat music his siblings were playing. How could he just erase those precious memories? How could he just forget the moments they had spent together where he wanted them to last a lifetime? When Raven would read to him, when they cooked together, when they take a stroll through the castle together and answer any question she had. He was a fool.

Damian sighed heavily, his face was between in the corner, but Damian knew too well that his nosy siblings were in the room with him, they were just – which was strange – keeping extremely quiet. Everyone was scattered in the room, Jason and Cass were playing a game of chess, Dick lay across an old sofa with his head propped on top of Kori’s lap. Stephanie was dusting an old tapestry that depicted the castle’s first annual masquerade ball. Tim was floating near the window, looking outside and the day dreaded on.

“Guys… you won’t believe who is riding towards the castle on a… what the heck is that?” Tim added rather out loud as he was able to gain everyone’s attention. At his statement everyone floated towards the window looking out to what caught Tim’s attention, they all gasped.

“It’s Raven?!” Kori added very delighted.

The mentioned of her name brought Damian out of his trance. He wanted to believe he was in some dream, where Raven turned back and returned to his arms asking for permission to stay. Could it really be her? Damian slowly walked towards another window and gaze outside, there up the main walkway of the castle’s entrance was Raven, she came in fast on top of the creature Damian had only once ever catch a glimpse of. It was the monster that guarded their castle to ensure no one came in or out. Beside them, Sombra was flying matching the creature’s speed.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Damian dashed out of the parlor and ran through corridors until he reaches the main doorways to exit. His mind was running all over the place, some were if he had gone to sleep and this was all just a dream his unconscious mind had created for him. Other thoughts were that Raven only returned to stock on supplies for her long quest to finding her mother’s homeland. Just one thought, one Damian was holding tightly to his aching heart was that she came back for him.To be with him.

Damian pried open the doors, he use his whole body to open them and stopped just above the doorsteps as Raven and the creature she was riding stopped right at the foot of his castle. Damian went down the steps slowly, with his brows narrowed, “you came back? I told you to leave and yet, you came back.” Damian didn’t mean to almost whisper his statement, but he couldn’t believe he would find Raven, standing right before him after last night’s incident.

“I had to… I know the curse took so much away from you and I wanted to return to you an old friend of yours.” Raven added softly before dismounting her strange steed. “Damian, meet Titus.”

“Titus?” The creature both bark and whimpered as it took three steps and give Damian a lick across his face. “Titus! It is you! I missed you so much friend.” The cursed prince wrapped his massive fur arms around the Titus’s neck. Damian had thought that his dog had died many years ago, he wasn’t able to find him when they all fell under the curse. To think his beloved dog, his great Dane had just been outside the castle walls all these years. Damian was both filled with happiness and sadness, realizing that Titus had been alone for such a long time. After petting Titus, Damian turned his attention to the raven-hair maiden that seemed to bring in light to his world. “You found him for me… thank you.”

“He actually found me.” Raven added timidly, she then folded her arms behind her back, almost as if she was embarrassed to speak to him. “Damian, I came back because I want to-”

Raven didn’t finish her sentence, out of thin hair a creature with blueish skin and arms covered in feathers swooped down and grabbed Raven. It screeched harshly and it ascended to the skies with the girl Damian loved. He was able to recognize the winged creature to be a harpy from the many books on mythical and enchanted creatures.

“Damian!” Raven screamed as she tried to land a hit on her captor.

“Raven! Release her!” Damian called out. Raven’s pet raven, Sombra flew up towards the harpy. He tried to peck the harpy, but the harpy managed to evade Sombra attacks and then slashed him with her claws. Injured, Sombra was falling down, Damian ran on all fours and then jumped to catch the bird in his paws. Titus ran and stood next to its former master, barking at the harpy. Damian grunted and ran towards back to the castle; there his siblings were waiting at the door. Their eyes were filled with anger and desperation wanting to help, but the curse did not allow them; their souls were forever bound to the castle. Damian handed Dick the injured raven.

“Damian what are you going to do?” His older brother questioned.

“I am going to go and save the woman I love.” Damian said through clenched teeth. Titus barked and turned his body, so his back faced Damian and his head was pointed at the harpy who was looking to be farther away into the skies, heading to some mountains in the distance. Damian leapt and mounted Titus, commanding his old friend to chase after the harpy. As Titus ran, Damian looked up, he could barely make out Raven anymore, she was disappearing between thick dark gray clouds.

Raven wait for me, I am coming for you.

[make-me-imagine]

Grief

Sensory Prompts: ‘Hollow feeling in your chest when you feel sad’ + ‘Fingertips brushing hair from your face’ 

Requested by: Anon (2 years ago; BIG YIKES lol)

Pairing: Spock x reader

Gender: Neutral        Words: 1,557

Triggers: Angst. Mentions of fighting, and fake character death.

Star Trek Taglist: @starfleetimagines​

Sensory Prompts From here (written by me) 

Note: I haven’t written angst in a while, so I hope this came out good. 

As the water from the shower washed over you, you tried to relax, letting the warm water relax your body, the water stung as it ran over your cuts, but you didn’t care. Your eyes closed, but flashes of what happened on the planet kept bugging you. 

Bringing your hands to your face you breathed out, trying to stop the memories from rushing taking over. Staring down at the drain, you see the dirt, grime and dried blood wash away, but the pain and guilt didn’t, as much as you wanted it to.

Stepping out of the shower, your chest seemed hollow, the empty weight of sadness filing you body, shoulders heavy, body sore. Your movements slow as you got dressed, and made your way to your bed, sitting down on the floor, back pressed against your bed as you stared at the walls around you. Finally letting the memories of what passed that day flood back. 

*Flashbacks* 

“This planet is amazing” you wondered out-loud, the rest of your away team gazing at the surroundings “Lets get some samples of these herbs, Dr. McCoy said they might prove useful” 

“I wouldn’t mind living here” your friend Zamara said as they stood next to you, meeting your eyes as you shared a smile. 

It seemed like such a peaceful planet; there were no signs of any life except small land creatures. The planet was covered in foliage and minerals. The mission was supposed to be simple, collect and study. Nothing was supposed to go wrong.

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“Y/n come in” Zamara’s voice was patchy, interference making it hard to understand them. 

“What’s up?” 

“I’m finding un..al readings coming from a cave to the south of yo- ..osition; I think it might be-  rare ore interf-ng with the equ-ent, permission to inv-igate” 

A strong feeling in the gut told you it wasn’t that, don’t let them go in alone “Wait for me, I’ll be there in a few minutes” 

“Alright” 

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“Leit- t- we’r under-...-mara....hurt-....help-”  

You could hear distress in the ensigns voice as they tried to contact you. The sound of phaser fire coming through the coms, as well as from their location. Running to meet them, you rounded the corner, when you did you weren’t prepared for what you would see. 

Two members of your away team were crouched behind a large rock, including the ensign who tried to talk to you.Your eyes landing on Zamara, on the ground, injured, but hopefully alive. 

Next your gaze moved to the hostile aliens in the entrance to the cave, firing advanced weapons at your team. 

You yelled at them, gaining their attention “Stand down! You are attacking a starfleet team, stand down!’ 

The aliens responded with more weapons fire at you. Tapping your com’s you called out “Away team to Enterprise, I repeat away team to enterprise!” 

“This is Captain Kirk to away team, what’s going on down their y/n?”

“We are under attack Captain! Hostile aliens were in a cave that could not be scanned, one officer down, requesting back-up!”

“We’re coming Y/n, hold tight!” 

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

More weapons fire, yelling, an explosion. How did these aliens get such powerful weapons, and why are they here, why are they attacking? 

Your train of thought was distracted as you were knocked to the ground from another blast the the cliff-side. Taking the chance as the aliens retreated a little further into the cave, re-charging their weapons. You ran to Zamara’s side, quickly grabbing them and dragging them behind a large boulder. 

Checking their pulse you contacted starfleet again “Where’s my backup!?” 

“We’re almost there Y/n, hold on” the voice was that of Spock’s, he was coming too. He was almost here, just hang on. 

Your gaze landed on a nearby ensign, clearly dead. Your heart clenched as you felt a wave of grief and guilt. They were here because of you. 

Peaking over the rock, you fired more at the aliens as they tried to advance. 

“Y/n” the voice was quiet, staggered. 

Looking down you see Zamara gaining consciousness as they stared up at you. “Hey, good you’re awake, just hold on”

“It was so sudden. They came..out of the cave....all at once-” 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you can tell me later, just hold on, ach!”

You crouched down as a blast hit the stone in front of you, sending sharp stones blasting through the air. You grunted, anger and fear rising in your chest. 

Hearing the explosive weapon charging again, you felt fear grip you. Grabbing a hold of your friends shoulder, you pulled them back before shielding them with your body. 

The explosion was quick and loud, sending both you and your friend tumbling. As the debris from the stone fell down on top of you. You grunted as you struggled to see around you. Looking down at your friend you turned them over “Hey, Zamara are you-”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw them. Eyes open, but no life left in them. You checked their pulse, only to find nothing. Your heart seemed to crumble in your chest as your friends non-gazing eyes met your own.

Hearing something behind you, you look up, seeing a weapon pointed directly into your face. The aggressive stare of one of the aliens peering into your eyes. 

Just as you thought you were about to die, the alien was shot down, your gaze landing on Spock running towards you, the Captain himself and other officers behind him, firing and protecting the rest of your team. 

Spock kneeling down next to you, checked the pulse of your friend. Feeling nothing, and realizing they were dead, his eyes met your own, seeing the repressing grief deep in you eyes. 

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The scanner was being waved over your body by Dr McCoy as Spock and Captain Kirk watched from nearby. Another medical officer patching the cuts you had acquired during the attack. The rest of your team being treated by others. Your away team consisted originally of 7, now consisted of 4. 

You had experienced death before. Seen innocent starfleet officer’s lives taken. But this was the first time you knew them, this was the first time it was your team. This was the first time you lost a friend. A very good friend. 

This was the first time you tried to save a friend, and failed. 

*Now*

A tear rolled down your cheek as you came back to the present, your eyes burning from the sadness that was finally taking over. Memories of Zamara’s death plaguing you. 

You almost didn’t hear the signal at your door, the persistent knocking, not until you heard a familiar muffled voice from the other side. 

“Y/n, are you in there?” You could hear the concern in Spock’s voice. An emotion he only ever shows for a few. 

You didn’t rise from the floor, but instead called out “Come in”, unsure if he really heard you. 

The doors sliding open almost immediately told you he did. As he stepped inside, the door sliding closed behind him. His gaze roamed over the room before landing on your form on the floor.

Hair still wet, eyes red, tear presently rolling down your cheek. A deep feeling of regret and pain moved through Spock’s body as he slowly approached you. You looked so fragile, and tired. 

Kneeling down in front of you, he met your eyes for a long moment before his hand slowly rose, as he brushed aside a piece of hair from your face, his fingertips gently gliding across your skin before he tucked the hair behind your ear. 

Next, he brought his hand to your face, gently wiping way the tears still present on your face. His voice came out quietly, gentle “I’m sorry. I...know, you must be hurting, and grieving for Zamara, but. I need to make sure you know that this wasn’t your fault.” his eyes stared deeply and softly into your own “There was no way for you or your team to know of the aliens presence. No matter what guilt you might be feeling, it is false. This was not your fault, and no one involved believes it to be.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, immediately stopped by Spock’s hand as he wiped it away. He wished he could take the pain away, teach you to push it down until it fades, but he knew you were too...human, to do that. He knew that you needed to grieve, and he insisted he be there to help you through it. 

Though it took him a while after the two of you entered into a relationship, to admit he loved you. He really did. And he would be there for you through whatever happens, just as you were there for him. 

He felt a pang of relief as you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him closer. Spock wrapped his arms around you as well as he now sat fully on the floor, pulling you closer as he let you cling to him. He was relieved when you started to cry, relieved that you trusted him enough to show him this part of you.

And you felt the weight of grief and guilt lift, not all the way, but slowly beginning to fade as Spock wrapped his arms around you and continued to quietly comfort you. Reminding you again and again that it wasn’t your fault, and that he was there, and he wouldn’t leave you alone, ever. 

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Hope you guys liked it, not sure if it was super angsty, but I tried lol. 

If you’d like to be added to a taglist for any character or fandom let me know. 

Also, please consider reblogging, as that is one of the best ways to help share creators work past their followers!~ Comments and likes are appreciated as well :) <3

[boogiewrites]

Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An… admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

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

You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

---------

Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit @shikin83​ @ookamikuro​ @anglovesthis​ @swol-bear @louist91syndrome​ @guiltylitpleasures​ @nfnoofiii​ @hellothefriend​ @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h​ @firehart9​ ​

[lastluvbug]

Your Trick Me Once and Trick Me Twice was amazing! My poor heart ached as I read it. May I request for a situation where Kalim was depressed after the events of Chapter 4;Jamil says something along the lines of "If only you hadn't exist" and Kalim decides to take drastic actions like attempting suicide? You can choose if his attempt is a success or a fail but I do want to see Jamil's reaction to the attempt though. Of course this is only if you are willing to write this. Thank you very much! :)

Toxins

Haha, you guys sure are enjoying the angsty Kalim fics! Oh well, truth be told, I am too! So let’s continue the sadness train!

Warnings: Extreme suicidal tendencies, toxic behavior, and language.

Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics.

Vermillion skies bled to dark midnight as a little twinkle on the horizon grew into a thousand stars that created shapes and pictures Kalim loved to trace with his fingers.

Twilight, the death of the day, and the birth of the night. A long time ago, it was the part he dreaded with a passion unmatched by any other. After all, when the sun set, that meant today was over, and all those precious times he’d savored were now nothing more than lightly remembered memories soon to be rewritten, or forgotten. But now... well, now that he had no one to fall back on, no one to reach out to, twilight was now the sweetest kiss he could await for, the kiss that he’d wished to feel, but for now could only see.

Caressed by the wisps of wind that held the slightest hint of spice, he leaned back onto his hands, swathed in the moonlight that seemed to spotlight only on him, on the tears that freely dripped down his cheeks like crystals, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Feet dangling over the edge of the too tall balcony, he drank the taste of night, the bittersweet flavor of the dry desert air.

Sleep had long since been a hazy concept, often coming in sporadic periods that sometimes stretched for hours, and sometimes lasted no longer than five minutes. No longer did he carefreely fall into blissful dreamland, no longer did he find comfort in the silk finery of his sheets, or the clothing that had once fit so snuggly over his already lithe body.

Stomach shrunken, fingers bony, cheeks ever so slightly caved in, Kalim had gone from so heathily full, to a frail petal on the edge of falling from its flower of life. He didn’t need to show anyone the way his ribs had replaced the muscle that used to line the bones, didn’t need to explain why he’d suddenly found nitpicking every food that was placed before him as a new hobby. Probably the worst of all, he refused to allow anyone to see the secrets he was hiding, masked with a terrifying expertise he surely shouldn’t be capable of creating.

Riddled with jagged lines that cut over his shoulders, his hips, his thighs, Kalim hid those so well, walking without a single limp, waving without a flinch, acting as if he didn’t feel the sting of reopening wounds whenever he stretched his limbs a little too far, or the dripping of crimson as sparkly as gems down tanned skin. Laughing soundlessly at the tranquil sky, he sniffled, betraying his actions as the glittery sea of bottled sadness spilled from his eyes.

What was perhaps the scariest feeling of all, was that he simply felt... nothing.

All those smiles to his friends, all those sympathetic hugs he offered to classmates in need, he didn’t feel anything through it. It was as if a switch had been turned off; the dark smothered his light, shutting out the emotions that had so clearly made Kalim, Kalim. He could laugh and cry as much as he wished, but that didn’t cover the fact that it was all... fake? Forced? Imitated?

He knew why. He wrote about it every night, in the journal he kept beneath his pillow. He dreamt about it, whenever he could manage even a glimpse of an image past the realm of sleep. He remembered it, he remembered him. His words. The ones that stabbed him in the back, in the heart he thought he could so foolishly bear to someone who’d once been so trusted.

He knew this was all because of Jamil. But he rejected any thought that came within a hundred feet of blaming him. How could he? How could he even begin to blame Jamil, after everything he’d done?

“Hey, Mr. Oblivious. Won’t you pull your head out of your ass for one goddamn second and pay attention?”

Kalim should’ve been listening better, then Jamil wouldn’t have had to tutor him on basic classes.

“Why won’t you just get out of my life? I’ve told you a million times, and I’m done repeating myself. I’m not your friend. I never have been and never will be. Now leave me alone.”

Was he being too pushy? Maybe... maybe he just needed some space.

“Kalim, get the hell out! Good for nothing leech, just get away from me!”

...How much longer can he do this?

Slow, encumbered, Kalim turned his head to the door of his room, waiting, hoping, praying that the handle would turn, and welcome in the one person he wanted to love again, despite the late, late hour. Staring at the wood, he felt numb, expecting something he knew would never happen.

Falling rather ungracefully from the balcony ledge, he dropped onto his wide bed, onto the plush mattress that was deceivingly firm underneath his back, cradling all the wrong places as his covers practically strangled him in the heat. The tears that came this time weren’t born of fear, or anger, but grief and guilt.

Maybe if he’d been more perceptive, maybe if he’d loved just a little harder, things would be different. But... didn’t it amount to anything that he’d tried? That once, Jamil had been treasured like a brother? Didn’t he care at all that Kalim was suffering?

Cuddling into the overwhelming confusion between suppressing heat and empty cold made Kalim’s head spin, and cradled by the hand of the night that so desperately urged its dimming sunshine into sleep, he felt his eyes slip shut, sinking into a slumber that was neither welcoming, nor satisfying.

<————>

Heavy and cold, shivering in warmth, dimmed in light.

Kalim curled in on himself, sleep clothing askew as he gritted his teeth, chest sinking with a fractured stabbing as he hugged his knees to his chest. Just as the nights before, sleep had brought nothing but a dreamless black that he wished he could stay trapped inside, only to awake yet again in a body that only ever seemed to work against him.

Sitting up, he grunted as his wounds burned, flames traveling through his veins as if salt had been rubbed into his cuts. Tears speckled across his eyelashes as he bit back his cry, every breath he took watering the knot that grew in his throat.

He knew then, with the sensation of cracking glass prodding at his chest, with the cloud that dampened his head, with the glaze that formed over his eyes consisting of dammed tears and bottled fear, he couldn’t do it today. He couldn’t go out and act as if everything was alright. He couldn’t smile and laugh like he’d taught himself to. Because every time, it would come out too broken, it would show the feelings he’d worked so hard to conceal.

He needed to make a trip.

Dressing himself was an especially difficult task, as any small movement made his arms scream in protest, his hips cry in red as mended injuries were pried open, his thighs burn like boiling water had been splashed over them. But, biting his cheek and gritting through it, Kalim disregarded his bodily urges to stop, pulling on his school uniform and sloppily tying his turban, slipping on his pointed shoes to complete the look.

He didn’t even note the time as he headed out, feeling unbearably heavy as he glued his gaze to the floor, wandering through the halls of Scarabia. Along the way, he caught the eye of a few students, who waved energetically. He didn’t have the strength to summon even a hint of a smile back, trudging past them as he blinked, shoving down the water that longed to rush down and cool his warm face.

Pinned with the helplessness of being alone, Kalim hesitantly made his way to the mirror portal that led back to Night Raven’s main building, freezing as he noticed who stood against the wall, cleaning the dirt from his nails. Jamil barely acknowledged Kalim until he was within reaching distance, scowling as he met the crimson eyes of the other.

Though he was tugging dangerously hard on a taut string, Kalim inhaled as he brought forth a shimmering smile, betraying the unspoken words in his eyes. “G-G—“ Kalim cleared his throat, swallowing the knot, “Good morning, Jamil! Are you on your way out? I could come with you, if you’d—“

“You’re a damn idiot if you think I want to spend even a second with you. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was waiting for someone.” Jamil clipped, crossing his arms.

��A... Ah, of course! Well, I could still stay with you as you wait for—“

“No. It’s clear they’re not coming. I should get out of here, before I waste anymore brain cells on a useless, incompetent child like you.” Jamil didn’t make eye contact as be pushed off the wall, pushing by Kalim without another word and wandering off into the labyrinth known as Scarabia.

Fists clenched tightly at his sides, Kalim stared blankly into the mirror, watching it swirl and sparkle with ethereal light as he resisted the urge to break down right then and there. He could feel as his legs quivered, on the edge of giving out as his breathing hitched, shallow and shaking.

Still, he followed the path set aside in his mind, almost missing a step as he practically fell into the portal, whisking away to the Mirror Hall.

Emerging on the otherside, he almost breathed a sigh of relief when no one was there to greet him but the dead silence of morning. Instead of bouncing off to class like he would’ve had he the stability to paint on a pretty smile like any other day, he made a sharp detour to a certain portal he never saw himself going into.

Stepping into it, he squared his shoulders, prepping himself with failing encouragements for the conversation that needed to succeed.

<————>

“Dorm head Vil. Pardon the intrusion, but you have a visitor.”

The blonde looked up from his vanity, pausing mid stroke and setting his mascara down. “Oh? Let them in, I’m not busy.” He shrugged, standing to his full height, enhanced by his heeled shoes.

“Of course,” the underclassman nodded, stepping out of the room to allow in said visitor.

Kalim felt weirdly out of place in the proper Pomefiore, despite having been raised in sumptuous royalty since birth, and setting foot into Vil’s positively sparkling room made him wince inaudibly with guilt. His bone slim fingers twitched with anxiety, a dark shade over his eyes as he stepped before the taller boy, only scarcely making visionary contact. “Good day to you, Vil,” he blandly greeted, grinding his teeth together in a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“...And to you, as well Kalim. Is there something you needed?” The white haired dorm leader shuddered, offering no explanation before pouring out the dialogue he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head.

“Well, you see... I’d like to ask you if you could make me a poison. Something fast acting, and easily hidden, that doesn’t smell too horrible.”

Vil flinched, pupils dilated and mouth agape as the request spilled from Kalim’s lips. He... wanted a what? For who? Why? “E-Excuse me? Kalim, what are you thinking?” Vil near yelled, balling his fists at his sides.

“O-Oh uh...” Kalim scratched the back of his head, feigning an awkward look as he chuckled. “It’s for educational purposes. I’ve been cooking for myself lately, and knowing me, I’m likely to accidentally poison myself!” He laughed boisterously, perceived differently by both listeners. “So I figured you’d be the one to go to, right? Unless... maybe I should’ve tried doing it on my own...” His voice trailed off, Vil’s hand on his chin, debating within himself.

Kalim popped a sad smile that didn’t appear so outwardly as Vil returned the act, a smirk falling to his painted lips as he extended a hand towards the prince. “Very well. Of course, coming to me is obviously the smartest idea someone like you could’ve come up with, but sit down first. You look absolutely atrocious.” Vil scoffed, gesturing to the seat before his vanity.

Reluctantly taking a seat, Kalim felt the insult dig deeper beneath his skin than it should’ve, crushing his hands under his thighs as he obediently followed Vil’s instructions, lips pulled into a thin line.

With momentary strokes and too gentle touches, Kalim couldn’t help but think of Jamil, seeing his gold speckled coal black hair and stony grey eyes instead of Vil’s blonde and amethyst. He used to do this too, every morning, dragging a brush dipped in black over Kalim’s thick lashes, dabbing red onto the corners of his eyes, thumb and first finger gripping his chin and tilting his head when need be.

A cold stab to his heart snapped Kalim from his short lived memories, reminding him of his purpose for coming to Pomefiore. “All done. Now that you look presentable, please, follow me.” Vil clapped, stepping away from the fellow leader and clicking off. Scrambling after him, Kalim gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly, biting his lip.

They didn’t travel too far, Kalim following closely behind Vil as he unlocked his bathroom door. Arriving in the room, Kalim toed the polished white tile, the lights fixed into the ceiling seeming to spotlight him as opposed to the beauty guru who swooped low to open the cabinets under the sink.

Inside were a number of brightly colored liquids, some transparent as water, others dotted with plant shavings or objects Kalim didn’t want to recognize. “Fast acting... sweet smelling, easily hideable, is that correct?” Vil quizzed, the twinkling of glass clacking against glass filling Kalim’s ears.

“Exactly,” he nodded into the mirror, averting his gaze quickly.

Vil didn’t reply, merely smiling devilishly before bringing out a small cauldron and three different bottles. Apprehension pulled Kalim taut as he watched the taller begin to explain his process, acetic irony making him soundlessly sneer. From poisoned to poisoner.

“On most occasions, a poison of this sort wouldn’t be possible to make, seeing as you want it to be not only quick to show results, but also pleasant-smelling. But, since you are working with the best, I believe we can make it work.” Vil boasted, uncapping and pouring the first vial into the cauldron. “This one is for the rapid dissemination,” the second, “this one for scent,” the third, “and this one for dilution, to water down the color, though still deadly.”

Kalim watched in wonder as Vil stirred the liquid, eyes wide and trained on the poison. Though at the beginning, an arrant black that made him scrunch his nose in disgust, the more Vil continued to churn, the color began bubbling with splashes of transparency. By the end, it was water-clear, and almost overpoweringly reeked of florals.

“Ah, there we are,” Vil smiled, laying a delicate hand on his cheek. Once again swooping low, he retrieved an empty bottle, ever so carefully filling it with the solution and capping it. “I haven’t made any antidote for this particular poison, so it may be in your best interest for me to hold onto it presently.” Vil cautioned, placing the ewer just out of reach while Kalim’s eyes shadowed.

“A-Are you sure? You can trust me, I’ll be careful with it!” Kalim argued, smiling wide to prove his point.

“Hm, I’m not a fool. I feel it would be for your safety if it was in my care until I create an antidote.” Vil refuted, sternly said, toying with the intricately designed cap.

Kalim chewed his tongue, clenching and unclenching his fists as he formulated a plan. Beaming a smile to Vil that seemed so outwardly innocent, he bowed slightly, showing his appreciation. “I see. Thank you for your time anyways, Vil.” He lied through his teeth, rising from his bow and bouncing off.

He didn’t risk a glance behind him as he stepped out of the senior’s room, shutting the door gingerly behind him. Scanning the gorgeously decorated hallway, he identified objects that could be used to his advantage, closing his eyes as he snapped the steps of his newly formed plan together.

Tiptoeing over to a vase that rose slightly above his head on a marble pedestal, he yanked the flowers that sprouted from the top out, tossing them on the floor as regret rooted itself into his heart. He internally apologized for what he was about to do, knowing full well that no one would hear him.

Winding his arms around the pot, his knees buckled as he dropped the weight of it in his arms, the arms that could barely lift his body mass. The water inside sloshed around, jumping onto his face as he regained his footing, tilting the porcelain prize and leading a trail of water around the corner of the hall. Repositioning himself in the indigo drapery of the curtain closest to Vil’s room, he swallowed a deep breath, hurling the expensive decoration as far as he could, cringing as the sound of shattering filled the hallway.

He hid himself in the curtain just in time, as Vil’s door burst open, slamming against the wall as he stormed out, empty handed. “What in the— Rook! Rook, go chase down Epel! That little scamp destroyed another vase, and made some pretty little prank out of it too.” Vil barked, Kalim cowering behind the curtain as the older stomped off.

“Sorry, Epel-kun,” he whispered, before creeping out from the curtain and darting back into Vil’s room.

Snatching the vial from Vil’s bathroom countertop was surprisingly easy, Kalim tucking it into his pocket as he scampered out once again, heartbeat amuck. Sneaking along the walls, he beelined away from the mess he’d created, turning a blind eye to it as he pushed open a random door in the hope that it was some sort of exit.

Instead, he welcomed himself to the Pomefiore lounge, where a handful of boys were lined up before Vil and Rook, Epel amongst them, who all twisted to stare at the invader. “Kalim? What are you still doing here?” Vil badgered, arms crossed.

“U-Uh... you see...” Kalim ducked his head in fabricated humiliation. “...I got lost... I couldn’t find the exit.” He whined, a few of the students laughing as Vil sighed.

“Rook, please escort Kalim out. I need to have a word with you lot.” The leader threateningly smiled, the laughter immediately ceasing.

“Of course, Roi de Poison! Come now, Kalim, we shall leave these heathens to their due punishments!” Rook singsonged, spinning over to the white door where he stood.

Kalim looked over to Epel, who had his face scrunched in confusion and fear, an apology spelled in his gaze that the purple haired boy only caught at the last minute, Kalim vanishing behind the door as Rook pulled it shut.

“Oh, what a tragedy! The rowdy boys of our dorm destroyed a simply magnifique vase crafted of the finest quality! On top of that, they made a mess of the hall too...” Vil’s overly extra vice leader boohooed, the flowy feather of his hat bouncing in an imaginary wind.

“Really...? Why would they do that?” Kalim asked, as if he didn’t already know they answer.

“I wish I could say. I often wonder what goes on in those spoiled little brains of theirs.” Rook replied, falling into a solemn silence Kalim relished.

The early blue sky hadn’t before been such a treat to the Scarabia dorm head, the boy thanking Rook briefly for the guidance. “Of course! Do come again!” He laughed, waving briskly and waltzing back inside the rather stuffy building.

Sneaking a victoriously pitiful smile, Kalim pulled out the stolen toxin, only holding it to the sun as he stood before the mirror portal.

It wasn’t supposed to be so easy.

A tiny part of him had wished it hadn’t been.

<————>

The school day came and went in a blur of colors, voices, and assignments that flew right past Kalim’s head.

He wasn’t fully there when he agreed to walk with Azul, the Leech twins joining not to long after. Happy conversation tied between the threads of three complementary personalities weaved around Kalim, who remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange. He was too busy twirling the stolen poison in his pocket, and had been for the whole day, debating his very existence instead of interacting with his peers as he normally would.

The quiet wasn’t overlooked by the three, though Floyd was the one to finally put voice to the thought the Octavinelle trio shared. “Hey, Sea Otter~ is something wrong? What’s with the face?” He cooed, downturned eyes for once actually bearing a dollop of sadness.

“Hm...? Oh, um—“ Kalim shook his head, pulling a smile to his face that looked more dismal than welcoming, “—of course! I’m a little tired, is all! Y’know, Trein’s lessons can put anyone to sleep, even me!” Kalim laughed, mutual discomfort shared between the Leeches as Azul fixed his glasses.

“Kalim, would you like to accompany us back to Mostro Lounge?” Azul offered, having picked up on Kalim’s abnormal behavior. “We could always use someone like you to brighten up the atmosphere.”

“Yes, Azul is right. You know how to play the drums, correct? Why don’t you pair up with Floyd? You’ll put on a show that’ll attract dozens to the Lounge.” Jade smiled, eyes shut out of joy.

For a moment, Kalim thought about it, giving them the false hope that maybe, he’d agree. He felt remorse sink its claws into his brain, making him shake his head as the three strolled by the open courtyard, a flash of red, gold, and black making Kalim freeze as he identified the person behind the Scarabian shades. “A-Actually, I had plans already,” he fibbed, stepping back to put distance between himself and the trio, “I was going to meet Jamil in the courtyard. Sorry guys.” He bowed, shoving his hand back into his pocket to fiddle with the bottle.

Azul perked an eyebrow. “Jamil wanted to meet up? With you?”

“Uh, yep! Told me this morning!” Kalim smiled, trying to wave off the suspicion that the fellow second years exuded.

“Oh? I thought that you and Sea Snake had—“ Floyd began, but Kalim was already dancing away before he could continue.

“Sorry, don’t want to keep him waiting!” He shouted, coughing after he stepped outside. It wasn’t often he had the voice to be so loud anymore.

“Should we pursue this, Azul?” Jade asked calmly, Floyd’d signature careless grin upside down in a glower.

“...No. It’s Kalim, he’ll figure it out himself. It’s about time he learned how to do so.” He coldly decided, pushing his glasses up. “Come, we have business elsewhere.”

“Of course,” both Leeches replied, though Floyd couldn’t hide the somewhat concerned look he sent over his shoulder, before disappearing with his fellow Octavinelle members.

In the courtyard, Kalim looked around confused, having been so sure that he saw Jamil walking around from the hallway. “Surely, he didn’t leave... wouldn’t I have seen it if he did?” He puzzled, approaching the stone well located in the middle of the wide yard space. He briefly caught a glimpse of his striated reflection in the impossibly dark water at the bottom, hastily breaking the contact to look up.

Through the strings attached to the wood bucket, Kalim’s maroon irises set themselves beneath the apple tree, to the person who sat so daintily upon the black-rimmed bench. With his hair brushed over his shoulder, Jamil crossed his legs, immersed in a thick book that Kalim couldn’t quite make out thanks to the gap. Sprinkled in the choppy afternoon sunlight, he looked more like an ethereal angel than the traitorous student he was to Kalim, so deceivingly beautiful.

Exhilaration, and dare he say, a spark of hope, flared in him, a genuine smile splitting his face as he sashayed closer. Believing that he had the courage to mend the bridge that had been severed from both directions, he stopped a meter from the bench, attracting Jamil’s attention, who shot him a dirty look, tearing himself from his readings.

“What is it you want now, Kalim?” He spat, holding the book up.

“I... I saw you from the hallway and I...” It was as if he’d forgotten how to speak, words working against him.

“Congratulations for using your eyes, dimwit. If you’ve come to be nothing but a stuttering fool, see to it that you leave me alone.”

Kalim squeezed his lips shut, heeding Jamil’s advice as he awkwardly looked up, to the apples that grew plentifully from the strong tree overhead.

Courage slowly being whittled down to an embarrassing pit, Kalim forced himself to smile once more, pulling his hand from his pocket. Taking a seat beside Jamil, he gripped the edge of the bench, leaning over the side to peer at the cover, and, riskily enough, Jamil’s tranquil features.

They didn’t stay tranquil for long, as grey orbs met Kalim’s enchanted red ones, scowling as he noisily slammed his book shut. “What?” He seethed.

“Nothing, I just—“ he cut himself off, unwilling to live the lie any longer, “I miss you, alright? I miss—“

“No, don’t start. Screw this, I’m leaving.” Jamil growled, tucking his book under his arm and stomping away.

“Jamil! Jamil, wait...!” Kalim called. Panicked as the vice refused to listen, he hopped up, rushing over to him and pulling on his arm, book falling to ground in a flurry of aged pages. A thunderous boom exploded in the courtyard as it collided with the ground, Jamil whipping around, arm still locked in Kalim’s grip.

“Jamil, please! I’ve tried so hard to take care of myself, but I need you!” He confessed, tears brimming. “I need your—“

“Shut up!” Jamil yelled, making Kalim flinch as he tore his arm away. Turning the tables, he spun, shoving a finger into Kalim’s chest as he grew red from anger. “What you need is to grow up! Do you understand how much you’ve hindered my life, because you just “need me so much”?” He kept shoving his first finger into Kalim’s chest, making him stumble backwards. “I wasn’t able to have a normal childhood because of you! I had to hide who I was, because of you! And now you need me? You must be a goddamn idiot, even after all this time!” Jamil accused, Kalim staggering as he tripped over himself trying to back away.

He refused to let his tears fall, Jamil continuing with his rant as his back hit the apple tree, both of them speckled in the magical light, despite the argument. “It would’ve been better if no one came to save you whenever you were kidnapped!” Kalim choked a sob, meeting Jamil’s murky eyes as the taller seized the collar of his shirt, slamming him back into the trunk of the tree.

Kalim gasped as his head thwacked against the wood, Jamil so close he could feel his uneven breathing. “If only you’d never existed.” He whispered, shoving a hatred dipped dagger into Kalim’s heart as he dropped the boy, Kalim’s legs giving out as he fell to the ground, eyes glazed and distant.

Stomping away, Jamil grabbed his book and left the courtyard, steam practically pouring from his ears as red hot anger guided his feet as far from Kalim as possible.

Dropped unceremoniously on the grass, the silvery haired dorm leader slumped over, bleak and broken as he stared to nowhere at all, shoved over the dam that had both blocked his sugary tears, and kept him from drowning in the ocean of self hatred and doubt that now had full access to Kalim’s entirety.

Numbly, Kalim picked himself up, ambling towards the school corridors once more as his eyes dried, hand reaching back into his pocket and this time, pulling out the vial within.

The clear liquid swished around, seeming so harmless in its elegant bottle.

Kalim hoped with everything he had left in him that it would be quick.

<————>

The beat of his heart had never been so loud before.

Erratic and off timed, electric volts shot throughout his hands, every pulse of blood throbbing in the tips of his toes, the center of his chest, the thin muscles of his legs. A formless noose of cold anticipation wound itself tighter around his throat, strangling the words that longed to be said from a voice that wouldn’t again speak. Tears pooled in his deep red eyes, though Kalim couldn’t fathom why, since he waited all this time just for the moment of peace that wouldn’t remain so peaceful.

Lying with his back against the end of his bed, Kalim rested his head on the firm wood, clenching the small bottle of poison Vil had specially created that morning in one fist, his journal in the other. Tilting his head to look at the moon, always a perfect circle, and always smiling down at him despite the action he was so close to making. He was tempted to smile back, but uncapping the bottle and smelling the rosy scent that wafted from it, he was reminded why it was he couldn’t.

Dropping the book inked with the thoughts he’d neither shared nor broke free from, he watched as it fell, slamming on the floor loudly and torn between pale light and shadows. Inside, a letter was tucked in the smudged pages, the last note that would be written in his swirly handwriting. He prayed that Jamil would take the time to read it, but he didn’t want to hold his breath.

Lifting the graceful vial to his lips, he felt his tears drip down his supple cheeks, for what seemed like the first time, fear dripped into his soul.

He was scared. What would be waiting for him after...? Would this really fix his wrongs? Would it... make up for what he did to Jamil?

“No,” he thought gently, pressing the glass to the plush flesh of his lips, “it’s not for you. It’s for everyone else.”

Hungry for a distraction, he looked to his door, locked for safe measures, keeping any prying intruders away. He didn’t want anyone to stop him. He needed to this, needed to make up for the years of pain he’d brought to those around him. Though, he did regret not getting a second chance to apologize to Jamil, the scuffle from before helping him realize that Jamil truly didn’t want anything to do with him. He deserved this. He earned it.

Finally, setting his dulled gaze on the moon once more, he leaned the glass up, pouring the liquid into his mouth and swallowing it in a single gulp.

It was excruciatingly bitter, burning trails down his throat as he gagged, dropping the vial as his hands squeezed his neck. The feeling didn’t stop no matter how tightly he wound his fingers around the skin, the bubbly fire spreading throughout his chest and dripping into his stomach, iron-tasting blood seeping out through his parted lips.

His vision swam with black, his body betraying him as he lost the fight in him, leaning back on the end of his bed, sitting with his legs stretched out on the floor and hands numbly dropped into his lap. It no longer felt painful as he struggled to keep his eyes open, the midnight-dark blood dribbling over his chin to settle on his clothes.

He had time for only one last thought, jumbled and lost to the winds of his mind, never to be voiced.

“I... I’m sorry... for every breath I took. I’m envious Jamil, that you had the strength to carry on for so long... Me? I couldn’t last half a year in your shoes... I’m not a fighter... I’m not even strong enough to look you in the eye. I hope—I hope this did something for you... I hope this... brings an end to your suffering.”

For a moment, he saw his life flash before his eyes. The games he used the play when he was little, the laughter he used to share with his siblings, the friends he made, the fight that cost him his best friend... they all seemed to burn away as he stared at the moon, ever the lively spirit.

But, just like a candle whose fire was blown out, he snapped, going limp in the paleness of his room.

Sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, Kalim Al-Asim took his last breath, light finally snuffed out for good.

<————>

Clomping down the corridors of Scarabia, Jamil pulled his hood over his silky braided hair, something indescribable cracking in his chest.

He hadn’t seen Kalim at dinner that evening, off putting Jamil’s behavior as he pondered over the reason behind the change. Ever since Kalim announced them as “equals,” Jamil had been rather lax with his servant duties, cooking only for himself instead of for the prince, refusing to wake him in the morning, and so on. But tonight... tonight was the first night he noticed Kalim’s absence in the mess hall.

Asking around had revealed that the white haired dorm leader had been skipping the meal for quite some time, furthering Jamil’s confusion as he followed his planned track to Kalim’s room. How long hadn’t he been eating? Was he really that afraid to ask someone else for help? The idiot.

Jamil gritted his teeth. The absence hadn’t been the only reason he was so adamant on checking Kalim.

He wanted to—and damn him for saying it— he wanted to apologize. Ever since that afternoon, when he laid hands on Kalim, he felt strange, almost guilty. Maybe it was true that Kalim was overly clingly and immature, but it wasn’t his place to hurt him the way he did. Not only that, but...

Jamil furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at nothing in particular as he tried to assemble a puzzle that was missing far too many pieces. The gnawing in his stomach continued as he trudged down the hall, bringing a fist to his cheek as he nibbled on his lower lip.

Kalim had been so... thin. Like all the muscle on his body had just melted off, leaving skin and bones as replacement. Before the overblot, Kalim had been almost neck-and-neck with Jamil when it came to physique, always healthily svelte, while the dark haired servant became more toned thanks to the dirty work he often found himself in. But now—now Jamil could only describe Kalim as frail, dangerously near skeletal.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jamil tried and failed to remember how easy it had been to slam Kalim into the wall, to pin him using barely an ounce of his strength. The usually cheery boy’s helpless face flashed in the darkness, stained with tear tracks and shock as Jamil walked off, not even a glance over his shoulder to accompany him.

How long had it been since Kalim properly took care of himself?

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamil clucked quietly, reopening his eyes to see that the end of the hall, and the door leading to the grand bedroom, was closely approaching, “I’ll just get him to tell me. He’ll be back to the old Kalim in no time. Idiots never change, after all.” He quipped, though the tremor in his voice sounded more like a timid reassurance than a witty remark.

Stopping a few inches from the door, Jamil bit his tongue, debating what he was trying to say as he pulled his hood down. Cautiously bringing his hand to the door, he faltered for a split second, as if in fear the wood would reach out and bite him. Three quick short knocks bounced off the hall walls, magnified in Jamil’s ears as he was met with silence. “Kalim, it’s Jamil. Can I—I come in?” He stuttured, surprising himself.

When, yet again, late night quiet was his response, he felt the need to double over, uneasiness eating his gut. Knocking again, Jamil placed his ear on the door, listening for the rustle of clothing, or the scuff of shoes on stone. “Kalim?” He tried, hand slithering down to the brass knob. “Kalim, answer me or I’m coming in.”

Still nothing.

Dread coiling in his core, his arms stiffened as he turned the handle, finding it firmly held in place. Frantically jiggling it, he used a shoulder to push at the wood, feeling it give way ever so slightly. “Last warning, or I’m busting in, Kalim. Open the door.” He deadpanned, taking a step back.

The third round of the silent treatment sent Jamil over the edge, the vice shaking out his hands before balling them, running shoulder first into the door. It swelled, before dropping back in the same place, Jamil repeating the process over and over until his shoulder was decorated in a blossoming bruise and there was a hole just big enough for him to weasel his hands through.

Wincing at the sting in his skin, Jamil pushed his hand through the cracked wooden hole, maneuvering his arm so that he could reach the lock from the handle. Twisting it, a satisfying click rendered the door openable, Jamil yanking his scratched arm from the door panel.

“Alright, Kalim, was that necessary? I understand that I—!” Jamil froze as he swung the door open, letting a swath of light from the hall slip into the dorm leader’s exquisite room.

His heart skipped a beat as his blood chilled, eyes stretching impossibly wide while the air fueling his lungs seemed to be syphoned out of him.

There, just barely discernible from the dark, Kalim sat motionlessly. His eyes were sealed with his thick lashes, mouth parted as blood dribbled down to the neck of his clothes. He lie still, propped up by the bedside, a transparent purple vial close by, glinting in the light.

One moment... two moments... three, until Jamil shrieked out Kalim’s name, throwing the door completely open and rushing inside.

Sliding and dropping to his knees before the body, Jamil softly lifting him into his embrace as he called for anyone to come help, to come save what had clearly been lost.

“Kalim... Kalim, wake up...! I know you’re stronger than this! Get up, move, do something! Please, please wake up...!” Jamil cried, brushing the hair away from his forehead. “I-I’m sorry I pushed you earlier... I’m sorry I l-left you alone for so long. I... I didn’t mean what I said, you know I didn’t! I’m sorry, I’m sorry but please, just open your eyes... laugh one more time. Smile...? Anything... just... wake up...”

Nothing. Kalim was cold, and not a single breath heaved from his bony chest.

“Somebody help me!” The plea was cracked, echoeing about as Jamil suppressed tears, tears that shouldn’t even exist.

He asked for this. Every damn night, he asked for this. He wished with every part of what he was for Kalim to be kidnapped, for him to shunned, for him to rot in a ditch. He hated Kalim—no, he despised him.

So why the hell did it hurt so much?

Why did every look at his pale face stab his heart in a way watching an abused puppy limp did? Why did he care that Kalim was feather light, that it felt as if he was holding a pile of bones rather than a person? Why were there tears dripping from his hatred powered eyes?

Trembling with the force of fear, disbelief, and stigma, Jamil’s ears didn’t recognize the orchestra of shouts and gasps that rang out behind him as Scarabia students acted upon his words, calling for teachers and help alike. He didn’t realize just how many tears slid from his face to Kalim’s bloodied clothes, soaking the fabric. He could only stare numbly at Kalim’s once so buoyant features, at the eyes that would never again light up with joy whenever Jamil entered the room. At the cheeks that would never again heat up in a blush that was the product of his profuse smiling. At the lips that would never, ever utter a single syllable, or pull into a grin that made even the sun look like a busted light bulb.

Moreso than that... Jamil heaved breathy sobs at the discoveries he made hidden all over Kalim’s body. His arms, mutilated with self inflicted wounds that never properly healed. His torso, tenuous and more bone than skin. He wouldn’t let himself go any further, already shaken to the core by the sick scavenger hunt.

The tears felt hollow and empty, painfully slow in their race to his jaw, grip crushing on Kalim’s shoulders.

He fought with a vigor that put three boys in the infirmary when help finally arrived, Kalim being wrestled away from his protective grasp and off to who knows where. He didn’t settle down until Kalim was carried off somewhere, far outside of Jamil’s view, and was left with the worthless consolation from people he didn’t care to see.

The only thing that ran through his head was the fact that he’d been the cause of this. That he was the one who pushed Kalim too far. That it should’ve been him to die instead.

Hours later, Jamil slept in Kalim’s now unoccupied room, stumbling upon a certain bound journal that just begged to be explored.

<————>

Why was it that the saddest moments always happened on sunny days? Was it the sun laughing at the earth’s struggles? Was it nature’s way of trying to ease the pain?

Jamil had no response for his questions, dressed in his formal wear as he stared somberly down at the glass casket, the temporary bed for Kalim’s lifeless body. Today would be the last day he ever saw him, as in less than an hour, Kalim’s family would be arriving to take their brother, their cousin, their son, home.

“Hey Kalim...” Jamil muttered, kneeling before the casket. “I, uh... I wanted to say goodbye, one last time. You’ll be with your family now, they’re taking you back to the Land of Hot Sands, where you’ll get a proper burial.” He said, studying Kalim’s blissfully expressionless face.

It was so strange, seeing him so calm. It looked like he was sleeping, like he could wake at any moment and pull Jamil into a hug that he would reciprocate with all of his strength, had he the opportunity.

“It’s not fair...” He whispered as a ray of light painted over Kalim, making his white tuxedo almost blinding. “Even in the afterlife, everything about you is so... so happy. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining on the horizon, it seems fitting. You were always... the sun to my moon.” Jamil admitted, a realization striking him like a lightning bolt.

“Oh, I um... I read this last night,” Jamil held up the black journal he’d found in Kalim’s room, “Kalim, why did you keep yourself hidden like that? You didn’t have to—you know you didn’t have to! You shouldn’t have done this to yourself, because of me. You should’ve... should’ve...”

Should’ve what? It wasn’t Kalim’s fault he felt that way... it was his. Jamil knew that.

“I know it’s a little—no, very, very late, but I... I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Those words don’t mean anything now that you can’t even hear me, but I need to say them. I need you to know that I’m sorry...!” He felt his eyes damped, and using the back of his hand, he wiped away the water that hadn’t even spilled yet. “Kalim, you were right, okay?! You were right! You may have needed me, but I needed you more! You gave me my freedom, even after I threw you to your death! I had so much pent up anger, I didn’t... didn’t know what to do with it!”

The dawning of the truth set Jamil’s waterworks into action, a pretty blush darkening his cheeks as his shattered weeping rose into the air. This was it. Kalim would never smile, laugh, speak again. Never. He wouldn’t ride a magic carpet, or sit on the balcony of the lounge, or even take another breath.

He was gone.

Undeniably, irrevocably, gone.

Sniffling, Jamil placed the journal in Kalim’s hands, having written his own letter inside. “I figured, your family deserved to see your last words. And my apology. There’s not much left for me to say... but thank you. You were never in the wrong, it was me. Thank you, for being so forgiving, even in my darkest hours. Thank you, for staying by my side. Thank you, Kalim, for being the brother I didn’t realize I needed.”

Standing, Jamil leaned over Kalim, the one he took for granted. Sliding his hand over his eyelids, he bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, the way he did when they were little. “Goodbye.” He breathed, before parting ways, beads of saltwater still trickling down as he trekked off, fists balled tightly at his sides.

<————>

Dear Kalim,

I’ve had little time to ponder over your passing. Over the very certitude that you’re not here anymore. But in that little time, I’ve arrived at a single conclusion, that can’t begin to express my emotions.

I said I hated you. I said I wished you’d never existed. I said I wanted you out of my life. And, I used to mean those words. I used to believe that if you one day disappeared, everything wrong with me would suddenly right itself, that you were the source of my suffering.

But... only now, when you’ve really departed, do I see that I was so incurably mistaken.

I was the cause of your pain, as once upon a time, I thought you to be mine. I’m the fool, for having ignored you for so long. I’m the fool, for pushing you beyond your limits. I’m the fool, for pretending to hate you, even as I myself, was at the mercy of your charms.

When we were young, I treasured you like family. We fought like siblings do, we laughed as brothers, we grew as a pair. It’s impossible to set a specific date, but somewhere along the way, something changed. Suddenly, you were no longer my brother. Suddenly, you were my rival, my enemy that I could never escape.

I know the penmanship of my woes could never bring you back, I am painfully aware of that. I am beside myself that it took your death for me to grasp that the reason I never left your side was because I didn’t hate you.

I never left you, because I was afraid.

I was afraid that you’d lose the need for me. I was afraid that you’d leave me behind. Moreover, I was terrified of losing you, like I have now.

That smile of yours, the one that never ends, and never fails to bring laughter to even the coldest of hearts, that was what I wanted to preserve. That was what I wanted you to keep, if nothing else.

I’m truly sorry, sorry beyond what words can say.

I pray that one day, you’ll smile again. It’s far too late for me now, but I want you to know that you were my best friend, Kalim Al-Asim.

You were what I strived to be.

I just wished I had the gall to admit it sooner.

Written truthfully,

Jamil Viper

Yet another request finished! Thank you @etervenislucifen for the ask!

I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!

Stay lovely!!