#and we did this for weeks too before attempting any direct contact

[yukipri]

The First Visual Contact

Cats tag: #YukiPriASLKittens

[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[benedictscanvas]

could you possibly do a benedict bridgerton friends to lovers fic with maybe some jealousy thrown in there? i adore your writing 🫶🏻

this request could not have come at a better time! i finally started my bridgerton rewatch recently and i can feel myself sparking with ideas yet again :) || 2k words, tw benedict is PINING & this is much more suggestive than my usual content, so 18+ please!

can't bear it - benedict bridgerton x reader

He looked bored. It was the first thing you noticed upon entering the ballroom and, in truth, it was often the first thing you noticed upon entering any ballroom. Over your years of friendship, it seemed you had a highly trained eye to seek him out amongst any crowd.

Just as your eyes strayed to him, as if he had similar training, his found you. What had been a dull stare at the ground to avoid any accidental eye contact with the Mamas scattered about the room quickly became a bright and excitable gaze locked to yours and you returned his slow-spreading smile with a rather unladylike grin.

"Hi," he mouthed, a grin of his own now twisting his features. You shook your head at him fondly, biting the inside of your cheek in a foolish attempt to stop your grin from growing any wider.

You were lucky to have a sister with whom your mother was preoccupied. It made it easy to hurry along the sides of the ballroom, exchanging nods with those you passed without stopping to greet them properly, to end up next to Benedict in record time.

You stood side by side, your usual routine, the backs of your hands inches apart but both facing outwards, as if surveying the rest of the room. Each one of your senses was entirely tuned into him as soon as you entered his presence, but it would not look as such to any onlookers.

"You'll start more rumours if you keep trying to communicate across such wide distances, Lord Bridgerton," you began, eyes fixed on the twirling couples so you didn't sneak a glance in his direction, "I thought we were attempting to rid ourselves of the clamours for our engagement."

"They can hardly read into a mere greeting," he responded easily, the words a mere murmur from the corner of his mouth, "I am a gentleman, as you know, and it would be impolite to simply ignore you."

"It would. You couldn't ignore me if you tried, anyway," you mused, "You'd get ever so bored."

"Always so self-important."

His mutter makes you bite back a smirk. Perhaps facing away from each other did nothing to hide your obvious conversation after all. Violet would be sure to notice, you knew, and may once again force Benedict into explaining the lack of proposal between the two of you.

In recent weeks, however, you had been struggling to explain it to yourself. Benedict was so dear to you, so utterly different to the men that regularly bored you, that once you had struck up such unlikely friendship, it seemed you valued it far too much to take it any further.

That, and there had never been any indication that Benedict himself saw marital potential within you. He was by no means a shy man. If he wanted you, you were quite sure he would have swept you off your feet by now.

And what a sweeping it would be, in those strong arms barely concealed by the crisp white shirt, billowing fabric...

"Good evening, Miss Y/L/N," a voice broke you from your spell, and your gaze accidentally drifted to Benedict in surprise before landing on the man interrupting you, "I believe I was promised a dance last we met, and I have heard you are a lady of your word."

You had to fight to keep yourself from frowning as you wracked your brains for his name. Unfortunately, you came up entirely empty and had no choice but to respond vaguely.

"I certainly would not like to gain a reputation for breaking promises," you smiled as taught, taking in handsome features and arms that didn't fill in a shirt nearly as well as Benedict's. You shook that thought from your head as you placed your hand in the unnamed stranger's own, "It would be an honour."

There was a splutter to your left, no doubt Benedict struggling to conceal his amusement at the sudden change in your tone. You allowed the man to lead you to the dance floor, turning subtly to send Benedict a wry smile but finding him staring right through you, expression anything but amused.

It wiped the smile clean off your own face.

His face was thunder throughout your dance, you noticed, however much you tried to focus on the pleasantly mundane conversation provided by your new partner. He really was quite good looking, if only you could appreciate it, but you were entirely preoccupied by Benedict's new foul mood and what could have caused it.

As the dance ended, you bowed politely to your captor, which was the only word that came to mind for him, and hurried in the direction of your favourite friend only to find him gone. This time you did frown, despite your mother's warnings of wrinkles, and picked up your skirt lightly as you slipped out of the ballroom.

Searching side room after side room proved useful. You soon found what could be described as a studio, with large windows to let the light in but currently only cast moonlight across the canvases spread around the room. The moon also lit up half of Benedict, who was stood at the window, staring out into the gardens.

"Be prepared to hide under that desk if anyone should come knocking," you said, startling him as you clicked the door shut behind you, "I shan't let you compromise my honour just because I have to chase after you when you're having a tantrum."

He glowered at you at the mention of a tantrum, the kind of look he usually levelled his brothers with rather than you. It was new territory and you found yourself quickly floundering.

"I did not bid you to follow me."

"And yet here I am," you reminded, taking a tentative step, "So why don't you put a stop to this strange mood and tell me what's wrong?"

"I'd rather not," he said curtly, his voice a little wrong as he turned to face you at last. Were those tears? "Please return to the festivities and I will join you momentarily."

You'd never seen Benedict cry before. In fact, you weren't sure you'd ever seen a man cry in your life, and the sight was terrifying. You wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a long overdue embrace, but you kept yourself stock still in the middle of the room.

"Benedict..." you began, not sure where you were going despite the plea in your voice, "Please. I have never seen you like this."

He laughs, but its harsh.

"You must not be very observant then, Y/N."

"I beg your pardon?"

"In fact, you must be positively blind. Maddeningly so. How do you ever get anything done?"

You could feel tears of your own welling up in your eyes and blinked them away furiously. It was a great effort to keep your voice level when you spoke.

"I have known you to be many things, Bridgerton, but you are not cruel. I am sure I have done nothing to deserve such vehement insult, so-"

"I quite disagree," he interrupted, face fierce as he stalked over to you until he was right in front of you. Your chest heaved as you looked up at him, eyes wide, and felt the rise of his chest almost against your own, "You are observant, Y/N, and far from blind. It is your cruelty at fault here, not mine. It is yours."

He hissed the last word, pointing a finger at you so close to your chest that your head was spinning. His closeness was intoxicating, his scent crowding you out of enough oxygen and his words were making you lightheaded with panic.

"You're not making any sense," you murmured. His fingertips ghosted across the fabric of your dress near your hips, barely there, and nowhere near the skin underneath.

"You must see it," he mutters back, all gritted teeth and barely concealed restraint, "You must see that I worship you. That I always have."

Your inhale sounded more like a gasp. He shook his head above you, moving closer until his chin was pressed hard into your temple and you keened into the touch.

"I know you do not feel the same. And you are not obligated to, I swear it. But taunting me as you do. Playing with me only to dance with another..." he trails off, breath shuddering, and you can hear those tears in his voice again, "I can't bear it. Please, Y/N, I cannot bear it."

Neither can you.

You reach up and take his face in both hands, finding chiseled cheekbones and jawline, thumbs either side of his lips as you pull him until you can look up into his face again. Your gaze flickers across his face, and you wipe the tears from his face with shaking fingers.

"You're blind, Benedict," you say, leaning up on your tiptoes until your lips brush his, soft, like the ghost of his fingertips against fabric. You know what you want him to do and you need him to do it first, need him to take your lead and run away with it.

When he fists his hands in your dress at your hips and drags you into him, your prayers are answered.

He opens your mouth to his, still gentle but insistent, demanding more, more, more of you. You'd give him everything, right here, mainly because you know he'd never take it. He seems more than content with the here and now as it is, especially when your hands slip into his hair and he lets out a low grumble of a moan that you feel everywhere.

He's trying to pull you closer still when you break for air, gasping it in as the two of you pant into each other's mouths. He runs a hand down your hair, your neck, your arm, until he intertwines his fingers with yours, chases your lips for a peck, then another, then another. You meet him with a lazy grin.

"I dance with the Lords of the ton every ball," you breathe out, "I'd have noticed if you reacted like this every time."

Benedict was grinning too. He looked far more like himself when he did.

"They are usually old, ugly fools," he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the thought, "I always hate them having their hands all over you, but watching a young charming bastard who may just have a chance with you hold you as I have always dreamed of doing? It was enough."

"He never had a chance, my Lord," you assured, tracing his hairline, his earlobe just to see him shiver, "You are, as already accused, blissfully blind. Blind as a bat, I should think."

"Recent developments would suggest that to be true," he mused, glowing in a way he wouldn't usually when wrong. Then, all too quickly, his face briefly fell, "I truly apologise for all that I said to you, Y/N. There is no excuse, it was cruel."

"Hm," you agreed, "It was. Although, I can think of a multitude of ways you can make it up to me. Would you care to hear them?"

His eyes lit up at the realisation of your teasing. It was familiar, exactly what had drawn you both to each other time and time again. It was likely what would keep you together for eternity.

"I would like nothing more."

"How about I sit right up here..." you began lowly, moving to take a seat on the desk, "-you sit yourself underneath this desk, and we can have a conversation about compromising my honour."

You grinned at him wolfishly. It looked almost as if his eyes rolled back into his head already, but it wasn't long until he was kneeling in front of you, hands on the hem of your dress.

"And what would you know about compromising your honour, Miss Y/L/N?"

You ran a hand through his hair and used it to roughly yank him forward, until his nose was pressed to the fabric of your dress, exactly where you wanted him. It was easy to see it now, as he stared up at you in total awe: the way he worshipped you.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

if you’d like to request something, please do so here! i’d love to hear from you, sunflower <3

[oswald-can-draw]

About your mlp infection au!! I love this one so much I'm so interested!! Maybe give us a rundown of a couple of the survivors and how equestrias chances are looking? How did the ponies infected by black magic change and mutate? Can spike or other species like dragons, griffins and zebras get infected since they dont have cutiemarks? Are foals who dont have cutiemarks yet immune until they get their cutiemark? How does that play in? Im so sorry if this is too many questions, I really love this au and I think its really cool!!! Its a really well thought out idea and I think its awesome!!! :D I hope you have a nice day! ❤️

Someone being an autistic beast about my work is the highest compliment, so never apologize for that!

But, boy howdy, have we got a lot of ground to cover!

Let’s take it step by step:

1. FOALS

Foals (or those without their cutie mark), are a very complex cog in this AU. On one hand, they don’t have their cutie mark, so they can’t be infected, as there is no magic to corrupt. Great!

The bad news? Getting one’s cutie mark is often an unplanned thing, which means any foal can become susceptible to the Meanie Mark Virus at any time. There are many ways to deal with this.

One common one is to wrap the foal’s flank with compression gauze. Half a desperate idea, and half a way to forget their child’s vulnerability (or to hide when they DO get a cutie mark). Somepony suggested that it could “keep back” a cutie mark, and the rest of the populace decided to go with it.

Another way is to just try and keep the foal from anything that interests them. This works to a point, but the stress from their friends and family on the brink of death every day, and now any sliver of joy that they can find in this hellscape is strictly forbidden. This can cause a once rare, but quickly becoming more common developmental condition known as “Muted Cutie”. This causes a cutie mark to appear, but it’s based off of an outside tension, such as familial pressure, cutie conditions, and lack of input. It’s like a magical wisdom tooth — keeping the actual cutie mark from developing and causing pain and stress to the pony.

The third option is a last resort: quietly “taking care” of foals that were of cutie mark age or freshly marked.

Having a foal of a certain age can bar you from going into certain populated areas, getting ample supplies, and even contact with other ponies.

Of course, this is EXTREMELY traumatizing for the foal. Feeling like they aren’t wanted and that they aren’t allowed even the smallest of joys can make life miserable.

2. OTHER SPECIES

* Zecora’s redesign is based off of the Karo tribe, a small tribe famous for body painting and self expression. Though I have done as much research as I can, there is still room for error. If there is something inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix the redesign accordingly.

Other species may not get the Meanie Mark illness, per se, but they do have reactions to parts of the evil clones that seep into the soil or the corpses of already infected ponies.

Griffins, for example, get something similar to food poisoning, with nausea, vomiting, and unseasonal molting. This is their body attempting to purge the toxins. Their flying also becomes affected, with severe bouts of vertigo and lost sense of direction. For the average, healthy griffin, this usually only lasts a week or so. However, if a griffin is elderly, injured, or any sort of health condition, this infection could be fatal. Fortunately, since griffins are so far from the Everfree Forest and spend so little time on the ground, this sickness is very rare, especially with certain security measures set in place.

Dragons are even luckier. Their stomachs are able to digest any trace of the infection, neutralizing it before it can cause any real damage. However, there is a phenomenon that has been unearthed due to dragons. The gems found near their volcano-filled home can actually be infused with the disease. The only sign of this having occurred is a slightly darker hue and a “rotten” taste, according to the dragons. A few dragons have been enlisted to dispose of infected material, as them consuming it is the only way it can be disposed of without putting more ponies at risk. Not many are up for the task.

Zebras, on the other hoof, have quite the reaction to infected material. While they aren’t infected with the true disease, the special, magical markings and body paint can give the bacteria something to feed on. This can cause weakness, confusion, gastrointestinal distress, rashes, burns, irritability, and even aggression. Zebras often have to be quarantined from the rest of their tribe in order to keep the disease from spreading and the victim from hurting anyone or anything. Removal of paint and markings can help, and are often reapplied after recovery, with additional markings showing their bravery, strength, and health. Unfortunately, some of them do not survive.

Any other living thing, including birds, mammals, plant life, and insects all have generally poor reactions upon exposure. Common themes in symptoms include weakness, vomiting, and confusion. Plants will turn away from the sun. Dogs will whine and curl into a ball. Birds will run into things and screech. Survival depends on the age, health, size, and care plan of a creature. Among them, usually about 73% survive.

Though no other species has the guaranteed death from the disease that ponies do, it can still cause some nasty, or even deadly, side effects.

3. BLACK MAGIC

Since the Meanie Mark Illness is already a form of black magic, just more widespread and deadly, the disease has horrendous effects on those who have already succumbed to dark magic.

Though it’s a rare instance, the phenomenon has been observed. Whether the black magic or the illness comes first, it always begins and ends the same way:

First, a pony becomes much, MUCH more powerful. Instead of gradually gaining this talent through the virus, their black magic reaches a feverish pitch. The pony begins to have uncontrollable displays of magic, usually of the destructive kind. Explosions, rays, death, and evil spells emanate from them without stopping. This has caused many hasty villains to try and catch the famous Meanie Mark Illness — with this power, they think, taking over the world would be easy.

Second, the two opposing powers battling for control inside the pony begin to destroy the victim from the inside. See, the reason why ponies become a husk-like corpse and turn to dust at the end of the Meanie Mark’s cycle is because of the Tree of Harmony’s magic fighting the dark magic of the virus, which ends up destroying the pony in the process. But with the black magic far overpowering the Tree of Harmony, the pony has a different problem — their body can’t handle such raw power.

The pony’s hair begins to fall out, their veins swell, their skin begins to blacken with gangrene as less and less blood goes to extremities. The pony ends up rotting from the inside out, black sludge oozing from their mouth and eyes, magic still pouring out of them. Their cutie mark, both subdued from the virus and given immense power from the black magic, sputters and shines and pulses.

Finally, a pony will die within a few days, their corpse zombified and rotting. However, those who do survive the ordeal have poor quality of life, as their joints, brains, and some of their organs hardly work anymore. They will live either as a wandering corpse or a patient for their friends and family to take care of until their demise in the near future.

In other words, this is a quicker but much more painful death!

4. CHANCES FOR EQUESTRIA?

This disease can be spread very easily, especially among unicorns. If an infected unicorn casts a spell on another pony, they too will catch Meanie Mark. Other than that, a pony either has to come in contact with infected soil/plant life, an animal that has eaten said infected material, or a corpse. This means that, though the illness will be slow to spread at first, it will pick up speed as time goes on.

With the emphasis on foals and the amount that are being killed for mercy or safety’s sake, repopulating is going to be difficult.

As for a cure…perhaps the dragons can help, since they are the only one’s completely immune? Or maybe they could at least offer hints about how to stop this horrible disease?

All this to say — there is a chance of survival. But is Equestria quick enough to find a cure? Or at least keep the disease at bay?

BONUS - SURVIVORS (NOT COMPLETE):

1. Spike: Being a dragon has its perks. But being surrounded by ponies does not.

2. Big Mac: The pony you would want in an apocalypse. Still mourning the infection of his sisters.

3. Discord: Could he even…get sick? Isn’t he part pony? But he doesn’t have a cutie mark…

4. Rainbow Dash: Cloudsdale is on lockdown, and isn’t allowing anypony in or out. But it’s like herding winged cats.

5. Winona: Aids Big Mac. Since eating an infected piece of flesh, she avoids the infected like the plague.

6. Sweetie Belle: Was staying with Scootaloo right before Rarity got infected. Apple Bloom would have come, but she didn’t feel well…

7. Scootaloo: Her inventions are invaluable. But her lack of a quick way to escape could be the death of her one day.

[anemonelovesfiction]

Summoning A Succubus 2

Succubus Tsireya x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Teasing, Begging, Fingering, Tribbing

Came to me while I was working and I figured why not write a part two? Maybe people will enjoy this as well?

Middle picture is from @waiting4avatar

Not proofread

<< Previous Chapter

Translation Station

Rutxe: Please

Tewng: Loincloth

Srane: Yes

Ngaytxoa: Sorry; My Apologies

Yawne: Beloved

Txotsafya: If that’s the case; If that’s so

Sevin’eve: Pretty Girl

Yawntu: Loved one

Word Count: 2.5 k

“Come on, you can do it, go faster.” Her words are demanding and all I can do it try, but the wobble in my legs was starting to catch up to me and I could feel myself struggling to ride her fingers any faster than I currently was, if I did I’d probably topple over.

“I-I can’t,” I finally muttered after thinking long and hard about the correct words to speak in her native tongue.

“Awe, that’s too bad.” She murmurs as she leans down to kiss my forehead and withdraws her fingers from my sopping cunt.

“No no, please put them back in, I was close!” I ramble, not having realized that although I was standing, my legs were shaking bad, I held my dress in the palms of my hand exposing myself to her.

“Mhm,” She hums absentmindedly as she shoves the fingers she’d had inside me, into her own mouth, sucking on my essence while maintaining eye contact.

“Please,” I whine, her eyes rake down my body before bringing them back up to make direct eye contact with me, a small smirk playing at her lips as she takes her fingers out of her mouth, sticking her tongue out to sensually lick between her fingers.

“Why should I?” She asks as the crystalline beads of her top capture the rays of sunlight and sparkles flow into my room.

I groaned aloud, watching as her pointed ears flicker at the sound, sticking straight up toward me so she can hear me better, I could only bite my lip as a wince rips through my lips, scrunching up my dress in my palms while waiting for her future instructions.

She had been visiting me for months on end, I had clearly become some kind of stress relief for her, but the feeling was mutual. But we didn’t always have sex when she visited, she would teach me about her culture, her life, and even her language, the one we were currently speaking at the moment.

“Because I’ve been good-“

“Not from what I saw.” She cuts me off and the skin if her brows relaxes, almost resting-bitch but not quite.

“I’ve been good up until that point.” I admit, feeling how warm my center was, just aching to have her fingers or her tongue shoved inside, begging for release.

I had grown impatient with her sporadic visitation the past couple of weeks and was feeling rather horny this morning. I was unsure if she was even able to visit today given her busy life, but was surprised to see her sitting on my office chair and watching me shove my fingers inside myself. I’d only opened my eyes because I’d felt as though I was being watched, my fingers sliding out as a scream ripped through my throat to find her sitting there and smiling, attempting to shove my dress down to cover myself and a heat spreading on my face, embarrassment washing over me.

“Then you have not been good.” She states sensually, leaning down close to me and placing the tips of her fingers under my chin, the sensation bringing me to stiffen my body as I stared into her eyes.

“Rutxe ‘Reya,” I begged and see her eyes soften as she coo’s at me.

“Lay down,” She instructs in English, accent rich, I could only focus on how her words did so much to me, heart rate quickening as she spoke, my mind going fuzzy as I attempted to focus, but being giddy at the same time as I lied down on the bed, spreading my legs without her having to tell me.

I just laid there watching her walk around the bed until she stood at the end, she turns around slowly and I can feel myself clench around nothing, she seductively slides her tewng off, sliding it off her body smoothly, leaving me to wonder how she’d managed such a great body. I could see her nipples had hardened underneath her crystalline and shelled top she had worked so hard to make the very first day she came here.

She sensually picks her leg up and places her knee right next to my hip, using her hand to steady herself, placing it next to my head and repeating the process with her other leg, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on my lips, tongue darting out to gently caress my bottom lip, silently asking for permission, something she knew she didn’t have to do.

I opened my mouth for her to shove her to guess deep in my mouth, swirling it around my own, not having to fight for dominance, I knew where I stood with her. I could only gasp as one of her hands had come into contact with my clothed breast, thumb flicking the hardened nub underneath my dress.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Tsireya mutters as her lips attack my neck, tongue sticking out to lick across the sensitive flesh and causing me to moan aloud.

I attempt to close my legs together to gain any sense of friction I can to apply to my clit, but am met with a slap to the thigh from the hand that once held my breast, her face backing up as the skin of her brow is furrowed together making her appear angry, I could only bite my bottom lip as an answer but understood what she had been conveying, feeling her hand pry my thighs apart before speedily placing one of her fingers into my core.

“Tsireya!” I stated in a shocked moan as I feel her slip inside so nicely, one of her fingers felt like two of my own, and she’s made me see stars on more than one occasion with one finger alone.

“Srane?” She teases as she slowly slides her finger back out, ensuring to run the tip across my G-spot as she did so, her sweet face breaking out to a smirk.

“Please don’t tease-“ I gasp as she rams her finger back in, not having expected her to have been so rough, I could barely pick up that I’d spoken English before she brings her finger out and shoves it back in.

“Ngaytxoa,” I apologize quickly, catching my mistake before she could correct me, I had to learn Na’Vi in order to understand the rest of the spell book I’s bought and she had been gracious enough to teach me, but it came with a small price, and every time I spoke in English I’d get a slight punishment out of it.

It hadn’t occurred to me that it had been a while since I last felt her tongue on me, until a squeak had left my lips as she licks my clit with her textured tongue, my body reacting in two ways.

First jumping up and wanting to get away from the foreign feeling of her the texture, sending my clit into overdrive with sensitivity. And Secondly, regretting having pulled away from her as I loved the way her tongue could stroke my bundle of nerves and bring me closer to an orgasm. I could only whine once I realized she wasn’t licking me like I’d wanted her to.

“Look at you, yawne.” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she coos, my face tilting downwards to capture her eyes above my pussy, I could tell she had been smirking, but before I could comment on it she had decided that now was the time to send another shock through my nervous system as she licked my clit once more.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, unsure if she had caught it but glad she had decided to continue licking her prized possession, feeling jolts of electricity shoot their way up and down my spine as she continues without ceasing.

“Reya!” I toss my head back as my hand sneaks up toward her beautifully braided hair, grasping onto it like my life depended on it and started grinding my hips up against the flat of her nose, feeling more pleasure than before, until she places her hands on my hips to stop them from moving, no longer fingering me, her mouth coming off of me as well and a whine building in the back of my throat but I don’t dare release it.

“I’d like to try something on you,” she states rather simply as her hands leave my body, my whine coming out at this point as I didn’t want her to stop touching me, her smirk returning on her lips as she stares down at me.

“I think it will be worth your time,” She smiles and hums at the same time, leaving my imagination to run wild as to what it was we could possibly be doing, but my mind draws a blank as soon as I see her shuffle herself near the edge of the bed, seeing as she readjusts herself so her legs tangle with mine.

She can see my confused face and only smiles, reaching between our bodies with her long hand and tilting my chin up.

“Do you trust me?” She asks and all I could do was nod immediately, I didn’t have to second guess if I could trust her, she has given me every reason to trust from the moment I met her- even if it wasn’t under traditional circumstances.

“Good girl,” She smiles at me before adjusting my hips and adjusting hers, I could feel the lips of our pussies spreading one another's open as she ground her hips softly. I raised a brow to try and understand where this was leading to until I felt the friction of her hardened bud slide up against mine.

Her moan breaks through my thought process before I realize I’m copying her with my own, my hips desperate to feel that sensation again quickly humping against her before she grabs a hold of then, almost bending herself in half.

“Rutxe-“ I begged and continued to fight her hands as I attempted to move my hips, ending in a pathetic attempt of a rut against her hips and feeling nothing from it.

“We have to go slow, yawne.” She speaks softly and it gets me to stop my movements.

“Like this,” She demonstrates as she pushes her hips against mine, her clit once again finding mine and rubbing deliciously against it, my legs starting to shake from the lack of continuous pleasure only to slowly move my hips against hers, feeling as our hardened buds pass by each other.

“Txotsafya,” I mutter as I refrain from moving my hips too quickly, desperate for release but understanding that it’ll take time if we’re in this position.

“Slow and steady,” She mumbles and I nod as our hips move in unison and I cry out once more.

“Are you close already?” She teases as I begin to pant, feeling close to my orgasm but not close enough, wanting to feel her rubbing up against my body non-stop.

“How’s this pace?” She asks sweetly as she picks up her pace, managing to move her hips at the perfect rhythm for me to enjoy, throwing my head back with a long moan as I grasp the sheets to give me a sense of grounding myself.

“Sevin’eve,” Tsireya speaks and causes my face to heat up at her comment, feeling like the prettiest of girls every time I had been with her due to her constant reminders.

“I’m close-“ I gasp in a breath of air as I feel my hips starting to rut with a mind of their own, feeling my eyes closed tightly as she continues thrusting her own hips against mine, I felt my dress slipping and rapidly reached for it, grasping it in the palms of my hand, not caring if the fabric of the dress had wrinkled, even after having spent the night before ironing it.

“I want you to look at me, yawntu.” She speaks and its as if my body lived to serve her, feeling my eyes being pried open my the sheer force of wanting to please her, seeing her turquoise eyes as a raging ocean at this moment, wanting nothing more than for both of us to come.

“Come for me,” She speaks and I bite my lip to muffle my moan, a sharp cry coming as her hips continue to move against my own during my orgasm, a sense of bliss running through me and feeling my eyes closing themselves once more.

_________

I rushed my feet down the pavement as I finally reach for the door of the building I worked at, being thankful I lived a walking distance from it and didn’t have to worry about finding parking on such a busy street, and knowing there was nothing in the parking garage. I rushed toward the time-clock area and punch my employee number in, glad to see I had come back on time, a deep sigh leaving my body as I relax a bit.

“Where did you go for lunch today?” My coworker asks nicely, although I hadn’t heard her coming up from behind me and jump a little upon having heard her voice.

“Oh, uh,” I thought rather quickly, wondering if it was worth mentioning, but figured it would be better to tell some of the truth, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

“I went home, didn’t feel like waiting for my food during lunch rush-“ I shrug sheepishly and see my coworker nod their head in agreement, stepping out of the way to see as they reach toward the time clock and punch their own employee number in.

“You wouldn’t want to go to barnes and noble after work, would you? Theres a book I want to pick up but I kind of want to read the first couple chapters to see if its worth buying.” They admit to me and I could feel my body begin to relax. I’d assumed they’d probably ask more invasive questions as to what I had eaten or if my lunch went well but felt rather relieved to have them switch the subject.

“Oh, sure, I’ve got another book I want to pick up from Lauder’s and it’s next door.” I admit as I had been wanting to search if there were any other spell books similar to the one I’d bought a couple months ago.

“Lauder’s has been closed for a long time, Y/n…” They trail off as they rub the back of their neck awkwardly.

“Oh, bummer, how long? I just bought a book there a couple of months ago.” I admit and see their eyebrows upturned.

“They’ve been closed for a little over a year now, my aunt used to own the store,” They admit and I could feel confusion filling me up. If Lauder’s had been closed that long, how was I able to go into the store and grab the book I’d gotten? I could only look up at my coworker and the only thing I could think to do was shrug my shoulders.

“Maybe I have the name confused.”

[pizzafishandchips]

22. "Why are we doing this again?"

Fandom - Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem/7KPP Content warnings - none Pairing - Clarmont x MC Summary - In the wake a dangerous attempt on someone's life, Clarmont reflects and receives a letter. Other notes - contains spoilers for week 5 [A/N - For day 3 of 7KPP Week 2024: Letters as well]

For the umpteenth time that night, Clarmont runs a hair through his tousled hair.

Why is he doing this again? He came here with a goal, a singular, clear goal. Gathering information, forging alliances, all in the name of peace. For the sake of all the innocents who were caught in these deadly games, for the sake of those they’d already lost. How much time had he spent preparing for this? How many times had he repeated this to himself?

And yet, in the end, he’d somehow forgotten it all so easily. All over a single woman.

A woman who somehow met and then exceeded any expectations he had. An intelligent, driven woman who stood firm in the face of adversity and challenge. A beautiful, insightful woman who somehow made him forget himself, the first person in his life who tempted him over the edge of selfishness. All he had to do was jump.

No, not again. He rubs his face with his hands; combined with his lack of rest, he knows he’ll have dark circles under his eyes come morning. No matter how hard he fights, Clarmont finds himself coming back to her, again and again, like a creature underwater drawn to a light on the surface before diving back below, afraid of what it might find when it breaks through.

He can’t do this to her. He knows this, he’s told it to himself over and over. He can’t do this to himself, to the cause he’s utterly devoted himself to for years, completely unwavering, until now.

She might die, he reminds himself, and his heart would likely never recover. He could die, leaving her behind in the most unfair way possible. And given the enormity of the task, the latter seems far more likely. Better to end it now, before they’re too entangled. Better for her to be angry at him, to hate him, than to break her through grief and loss.

He believes in his cause, but Clarmont has long given up on himself. And she deserves more than a man who has nothing left to give.

It isn’t until he hears a knock on his door that he notices the slivers of light dripping in from the gap between the curtains, signaling the onset of morning. In the end, those long late hours did little for him; his resolve is no stronger than before.

The Revaire lord nods absently to his servants when they come in to help him prepare for the day; the gaunt look in his eyes is evident enough, but they know him well enough to not press. He’s handed a small bundle of letters before they bow and leave. Collapsing into a chair, he absentmindedly peruses through his correspondence. There’s a letter from Lyall; he’ll read that one later since he already has an idea of what it might say, and for once he’s not in the state of mind to entertain his friend’s fanciful notions about his bachelorhood.

And mysteriously, a letter hailing from Jiyel in handwriting he doesn’t recognize. The addressee is what surprises him; he doesn’t have any notable contacts from that particular kingdom, aside from one, and she’s here. He looks it over—it doesn’t appear trapped or dangerous in any way. Preliminary checks done, Clarmont gingerly unfurls the parchment.

[ To the esteemed Lord Clarmont of Revaire,

You do not know me, but I write on behalf of my granddaughter, Lady Octavia of House Leigong. My name is Sarantuya, and I have raised and watched Octavia grow since birth. As such, while I know she is perfectly capable of handling her own affairs most of the time, I feel obligated to speak in her favor when it comes to matters of marriage, and of the heart.

She does not speak of you often in a direct way in her letters home, but I know my granddaughter well enough to read between the lines. For a long time, Octavia has always been content in solitary endeavors; there was little that she wanted aside from the pursuit of her own goals. Her heart is not one that is easily stirred. I’m sure you can imagine how surprised I was that she spoke so highly of someone she met during her time at the summit, someone she had intentions to marry, no less.

Truthfully, I worry about my granddaughter. I worry that she will not surround herself with those that care about her. I worry that she will devote so much of herself to her ambitions that she will lose sight of other important things in life. I know as I grow older, I grow closer to a day when I cannot watch over her as I once have.

Lord Clarmont, during your time with her, I am sure you have already gleaned some things about her nature. Octavia can be arrogant and overly reliant on her intelligence. She can pour every ounce of her energy to a task to the point of obsession. She can be cold and indifferent, and care little for strangers, a byproduct of the circumstances in which she was born. My granddaughter has experienced little of the world outside her homeland through no fault of her own. It is my wish that through this summit, she will learn to look beyond the pages of her books and the walls of our small family estate.

In spite of all these things, you will find no one more capable and more devoted. Whatever your dreams are, they will become her dreams, and she will give everything she has to fulfilling them. Whatever challenge you may face, whatever obstacles you must cross, she will stand by you through it all, on her own two feet, strong and proud.

My lord, I can only hope you believe my word when I say my granddaughter is not a weak woman. She has the capacity to reach heights she herself is not aware of yet; the only thing she needs is a supportive hand. The blood of a people who have braved harsh winters, who have survived war, who wander and ride freely through endless, vast plains, courses through her veins. The same blood that runs through my veins. She is not meant to remain in a small cage of her own choosing. It is my wish that she will find the opportunity to fly, and it is my belief that you may be the one who can help her.

I cannot see the future and I will not compel you to a decision. But from what I know, I hope one day to have the pleasure of calling you my grandson. Please watch over Octavia in the meantime.

Safe journeys,

Qiyan Sarantuya of House Leigong ]

Clarmont leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as his sleep-deprived mind struggles to process everything.

My granddaughter is not a weak woman.

He knows that. He knows that so painfully well. Because in the end, he knows that he’s the weak one, and he’s never been more frustrated over it.

Maybe…

He shakes his head, painfully aware of the bright sunshine breaking through to dispel the shadows of the night. Time is not a luxury he has, and eventually he has to face his demons. He folds the letter and sets it aside for safekeeping, praying from the depths of his heart that he can live up to whatever expectations people may have of him.

[cheshirewriter01]

Happy penguin huntings

Law x reader

Summary: you demand your first kiss with your grumpy boyfriend.

Down the halls of a quaint little submarine, a huffy woman stomps her way through.

'Three weeks, three weeks me and law have been dating and I haven't gotten a kiss yet... I don't think I approve... So then... where is he?' she thought with a frustrated eye twitch.

Patience was never y/n's virtue, especially when it came to having an ungodly sexy boyfriend with the most kissable lips... Or at least she thinks they are, she's about to find out because his ass is being too slow.

And law? Well, he's just a shy inexperienced bean, he doesn't mean any harm, but sometimes even beans need a little push.

Three mildly vicious knocks startled the captain from his load of paperwork he was absorbed in whilst he was settled in his desk located in the medical bay.

He quickly returned to his work after muttering a quick 'come in,' only mildly hearing the door open and shut.

Y/n wasn't having it though, she wanted his full attention, and she was going to get it.

Sauntering herself next to his old leather chair she lightly kicked the wheels of it to gain his attention. "Law, get your nose out of your work for five seconds and acknowledge me!" She finished with a huff to show her exasperation.

He slowly set down his pen, releasing an irritated huff himself as he turned his chair to look in her direction, an unamused expression adoring his handsome face.

"I'm clearly busy y/n-ya, unless it's important, then it can wait until later." he went to reposition his chair towards his desk again when her hand shot out and grabbed the arm rest of it, forcing him to continue looking at her. He now noticed her irritated face, although he found it more adorable than anything, like an angry chipmunk.

"This is important, and it can't wait til later, absolutely not!" her voice increased at the end, growing even more agitated with his uninterested behavior.

A glare was passed her way, both for interrupting his work this long and for raising her voice at her captain, 'only she could get away with such a thing' he mused.

"Is someone on the crew injured?" he asked.

"well no"

"dying?"

"also no!" her eyes were growing wider with frustration.

"Are we being attacked?"

"Seriously you jerk, does it sound like we're being attacked!?"

"Exactly so what the hell is so important then hmm?" he asked with a raised brow as he settled back in his chair, a stupid smirk on his face, suddenly enjoying this short game of pushing her buttons after working on papers for so long.

He can't be a romantic, but he sure knows all the right ways to piss someone off, then again she was quite short tempered.

"No one's hurt, no one's dying, we're not being attacked, everything's fine, I just need you to fricking kiss me already!"

And as quick as his smirk came, it also left, leaving him with a blank face and he processed what exactly she just said..

.

.

".. w-what did you just?!" a fervent blush came across the captain's gave that he attempted to hide to no avail, due to the sudden shock of what she just said to him.

"y/n-ya you can't just spout random shit like that out of nowhere, you damn brat!" he glared at her from underneath his hat, still not quite making eye contact with her anymore.

A poor attempt to cover embarrassment with anger really. The only time his personality does a 180 like this is when she's so bold towards him.

Ignoring what he said, she carried on, determined to get way. "Are you gonna do it or not, I want a kissss, lawww, kiss meee!"

"would you keep it down before someone hears you dammit! " he yelled in a hushed whisper, a crimson color quickly returning back to his cheeks.

This only egged her on more continuing to whine even louder.

"Okay! Okay, I'll k-kiss you, just shut the hell up!" he quickly stood up attempting to cover her mouth with his hand, which only resorted in it being licked, a cold glare was thrown her way for that, one which could cut down enemies itself, yet, she only giggled in response.

"Why do I date you again?" he mused in playful confusion.

Pretending to be hard in thought, she responded shortly after.

"Hmmmm, because I'm cute and I make your life interesting?" she spoke with a coy smile on her rosy lips, lips he suddenly couldn't look away from after she brought the topic up...he won't lie, he has thought about kissing her before, multiple times, he just hasn't figured out how to go about it...until now.

"you make my life something alright." he scoffed

"Ohhhh but you didn't deny thinking I was cute, oooh captain thinks I'm cuteee!" She tattled the confession to the almost empty room like a middle school girl teasing her crush.

He simply rolled his eyes in return, determined to make her shut up, which he succeeded in seconds later after he quickly took a large step towards her, bodies becoming mere inches apart.

She immediately shot her eyes up to his once again smirking face, words suddenly lost in her throat at the sudden close proximity.

A more shy smile crossed upon her face, regardless of all her teasing, he does still make her nervous, can you blame her?

"You finally gonna give me what I want cap?" She spoke in a whisper as his large tattooed hand slowly rose up to cup her delicate face, bodies once again moving closer, she could feel the heat from his chest radiating onto hers.

"I know it's a hard task but if you stop talking I will" his other hand grazed the middle of her back, pushing her completely into him now as his face grew ever closer, she wanted to be mad at his response, but how could she when the only thing she could focus on right now was his devilish lips mere millimeters apart from her own now?

'where the hell did all his shyness suddenly go?' she still managed half a thought, pouting slightly, only tempting him further more as her plump bottom lip stuck itself out slightly more.

He was definitely still nervous, never having been so close to someone to even consider having a romantic relationship... and he just had to find someone even more blunt then himself.. but right now, the opportunity to finally feel her lips against him, was making his head so fuzzy with desire that he couldn't think about much else, working completely on instinct at the moment.

Lips slowly and cautiously brushed against one another to test out the waters, breathes hitching at the first contact, before law delicately placed his lips upon her closed ones, letting out a soft sigh of success.

His lips were definitely kissable and much softer than she had ever thought, and she was loving it, never wanting this moment to end between them.

Her hands gripped onto the front of his yellow hoodie to keep herself grounded, as she carefully pressed her lips more firmly to his, wishing for deeper contact. He happily obliged and returned the favor, slowly deepening the kiss to both of their pleasure.

Time and time again they separated and repeated the action, soft sighs and grins coming from the both of them as they enjoyed this tender moment between them. The kisses stayed pure and sweet, simply enjoying the feel of the other so closely. More passionate kisses can come at a later time, for now this was more than enough for them.

Once they separated for the last time, they layed their foreheads upon one another, slight catching their breath. She could feel his increased heart rate under her palm located on his chest, making her smile softly.

Once they lifted their heads to look at one another, it was clear you could see the adoration they had for each other in their eyes, no matter how much they love to bicker, they loved the other more.

And of course her being the playful brat she is, she had to have the final say, so with a happy grin on her face, she patted him on the chest and gave him her best smile.

"Thanks for the kiss cap, you can get back to work now."

And she turned around and happily waddled out of the room, like a penguin who just succeeded in her hunt, a soft click of the door was left in her absense.

And an exasperated captain.

A small grin rose to his face as he plopped back in his chair, staring at the door she just left from.

"What am I going to do with you.. Y/n-ya."

[writereleaserepeat]

Hear No Evil - Chapter 5

Previous // Next

CW: bbu, bbu-adjacent, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, dehumanizing intent by using it/its pronouns, ableism, blood mention, scar mention, non-sexual nudity

It felt wrong to touch the boy’s face. It felt wrong to touch a person who had been endlessly abused into mindless submission, someone who had been trained through pain and suffering that they had to exist at the will and command of another. It felt wrong that the boy was still sitting naked, all but skin and bones, entirely unmoving on Rowan’s floor. 

What other choice did Rowan have? Was there another way to communicate with this boy, one  that wasn’t as direct as physical contact? Necessity, Rowan reminded himself as the boy’s face turned upward in his palm. I’m doing this out of necessity.

Even as he gently guided the boy’s face to look upwards, he refused to meet Rowan’s eyes, his gaze directed towards the floor. That was alright. It was going to have to be alright for a while, Rowan suspected. 

After a moment he let his fingers fall away from the boy’s chin. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was relieved when his new houseguest held the position rather than dropping back to the ground. 

“Hey there,” Rowan greeted. He did his best to smile. “I don’t know if you remember, but my name’s Rowan. I know this is new for you, but it’s new for me too. It’s new for both of us. I’m sure you’re probably scared, but we’re going to get through this. We’re going to have to learn together, alright?” 

The boy didn’t even blink. 

---

Master didn’t seem upset that Pet was holding still and looking up at him. By the hint of a smile on Master’s lips, it seemed that he was pleased by the unusual posture. 

It didn’t dare meet Master’s eyes, of course, but now it could try and read his lips. Even if it couldn’t decipher the words that Master was speaking, it had already come to enjoy the soft murmur of Master’s speech. The kindness and warmth was enough for it to relax. 

New… new… new for both of us… learn together…

Pet knew that it could do that. Pet was happy to learn new things for its Master, and it was going to try its very best to do them well. Failure meant punishment, but even worse, failure meant disappointing Master. Disappointing its old Master is what got Pet into this mess to begin with. It could handle any amount of pain, however Master chose to train it, but disappointment always burned the deepest. 

Pet can be good. Pet can learn with Master. 

---

It struck Rowan that now only was the boy still naked, but the stench of waste and sweat clung to his body. The putrid odor of the liquidation event had begun to seep into the room at no fault of the boy’s own. 

Of course - Rowan privately scolded himself for forgetting. The facility never gave its victims the luxury of proper hygiene, and this one had been stuck at the liquidation event for days, before eventually being stuffed in a box. There was no wonder that the boy’s curls were slicked down with grease and dirt. 

Rowan attempted a smile. He knew it didn’t reach his eyes, but how could it, when he knew how much pain this person had been through? 

“How does a bath sound, yeah? Can we do that?” Rowan offered this enthusiastically. Rowan also knew that his bathroom was a bit of a disaster, scattered with half-empty shampoo bottles and skin care products he hadn’t used in weeks. He tried to soothe himself by rationalizing that the boy wouldn’t particularly care about the room’s cleanliness. 

There was no reaction to Rowan’s offer, not a nod, not so much as a twitch. It was all he could do not to sigh, worried that any sighs would be interpreted as misplaced frustration. The last thing he wanted to do was set the boy on edge. 

He remembered what worked earlier, the very gestures that had lured the boy to his bedroom in his first place. After giving himself a determined nod, Rowan took a few steps backwards, and gestured with a low hand to invite the victim to follow along. 

Much to Rowan’s relief, the boy understood. He scampered forward on his hands and knees, eyes glued back to the ground, every bone on his gaunt frame showing. As much as Rowan would have preferred him to walk on two feet, this was going to have to do for the moment. Just enough to get him cleaned and settled in, nothing more. Then they would begin work on rehabilitation. 

As soon as Rowan opened the door to the bathroom, the boy bolted forward and into the tub in a tangle of limbs and apparent enthusiasm. Rowan hadn’t spoken a single word or made a gesture. He smiled in spite of himself, and cocked his head to the side.  

“Alright, I guess baths are okay? That’ll make this easier.” Rowan thought about the many victims that had been tormented by water, scalded or frozen at inhumane temperatures, or held beneath the surface until they drew mouthfuls into their lungs. To have a victim who was at least amiable to the cleaning process would relieve the burden on them both. 

The boy had resumed the typical kneeling position in the tub, seemingly unbothered by the hard porcelain. Rowan figured it was best not to try and correct that for the time being. One step at a time. Be encouraging. 

Rowan leaned over to the spigot and slowly turned it on, carefully easing the handle towards “H,” and diligently checked the temperature as water began to flow. Once it was comfortably warm he plugged the drain and watched as the clear liquid began to pool around the boy’s legs. Rowan almost swore he heard a contented sigh as the boy’s eyes slipped closed. 

For the first time in more than a day, Rowan felt himself smile, a genuine smile. And for the first time, he felt that maybe he was cut out for this. 

---

Pet was grateful for the washing before it even began. Its old Master was so particular in keeping Pet clean, and would have his servants scrub Pet down every day beneath a stream of hot water. Sometimes the soap was floral, other times it was citrus, but it always left Pet smelling wonderful. Handler never gave it such luxuries when it was sent back to the training facilities. 

The water rose ever higher, first over its thighs, then over the pale skin of its stomach, until the water finally came to a stop right above its navel. It could have groaned with how pleasant the warm water felt on its aching legs and bruised knees. For a moment it nearly dared to speak, express its gratitude for the kindness, but knew better than to open its mouth without being told. 

Still, it was a treat to have Master wash it rather than a servant.

Master gently cupped warm water over its head, and Pet closed its eyes tight to keep the water out. With each new splash of water Master continued to talk away, his voice nearly as warm as the water, wrapping around Pet’s shoulders along with the suds. Of course, the words were still indistinct, and Pet listened in case there was a command it could discern, but it was already starting to think that maybe Master just liked to talk. Pet wouldn’t mind that at all. 

---

“I’ve never really had anything to name before,” Rowan mused aloud as he worked his fingers through the boy’s curls. The texture was so much deeper than his own, the ringlets rich with weight. He made a quick mental note that the dollar-store shampoo he used for his own pin-straight hair would most certainly not do in the future. 

“You see, I had to name a goldfish when I was a kid,” Rowan continued as he began to rinse the shampoo out. “I had to name it, and I stalled for weeks. My parents kept asking me, and my sister kept bugging me about it, but I just didn’t have anything. My mom eventually suggested ‘Goldy,’ and I just went with it. But if you can’t tell me what you want to be called, at least not yet, you deserve a name. A proper one, something with a bit of dignity.”

He wondered if there were websites to help with such a thing. namesforyourbrainwashedhumanslave.com? It wouldn’t surprise him. 

“You’re going to have to learn to wash yourself in the future.” Rowan gently wrung some of the water from the boy’s thick head of hair and hoped he wasn’t pulling on the roots. “It’s okay if that doesn’t happen right away. I’m more than happy to help, but I want you to feel comfortable doing things on your own, without having to ask me. You can come in here and have a bath whenever you want. The apartment incorporates the cost of utilities into the monthly rent already, which means we can use as much as we want at no extra cost. It’s nice to have almost unlimited heat in the winters, especially this far north.”

As he began to carefully wipe away the grime on the boy’s face with a warm cloth, Rowan nearly startled when the boy leaned into the touch. He hadn’t expected to feel pressure returned against his hand. After pausing long enough to pull himself out of the shock, Rowan pressed on and began to scrub at the dried blood on the side of the victim’s face. Flakes of muddy brown and deep crimson scabs covered the deep gouges that ran from his temples, down his ears and jawline, almost down to his neck. Given the extent of the damage, it was a wonder there was any skin left. 

“I hope one day you can tell me how these got here,” Rowan murmured as he got a good look at the wounds for the first time. Blood flaked away and fell in hues of brown into the water, mixed with fresh red from the most recent and still-weeping wounds. 

“I’m sorry,” Rowan whispered before he could stop himself, because he knew he had to be hurting the boy, no matter how gently he tried to proceed. The wounds were deep, and Rowan wondered if they needed stitches. How was he supposed to tell? Maybe they were too wide for stitches, maybe the scar tissue was already too well-formed. 

They were different than the scars that Rowan had seen on other victims before, and he had seen the aftermath of many instruments of torture in his time. These scars were jagged, and they were as wide as three fingers across, as though they had been continually torn open. It was the first time Rowan saw them this close up, and he noted that the cartilage of the ears was warped and knobbed. Again, something like he had never seen before. 

The water had turned a translucent copper color, and Rowan tried not to be sick as he reached in to drain the bathtub. A quick hand gesture and the boy got out of the tub and knelt back down on the bath mat. 

Right, towels. Dry him off. 

“Let’s get you dry, huh?” Rowan spoke. Maybe it would help ease whatever tensions were running through the boy’s mind if Rowan kept narrating what he was doing. He imagined it would be beneficial to take away some of the nerve-wracking suspense, and instead replace it with vocalized certainty. 

Forcing a smile on his lips, Rowan grabbed the freshly-laundered towel he had set aside, and held it out in the boy’s line of sight. 

“I’ve got a clean towel here. If you want to do it yourself, just grab the towel, and I’ll stop. Otherwise, here we go.” 

As soon as the terry cloth made contact with the boy’s shoulders, he leaned into the touch, his upper body shifting a few centimeters closer to Rowan’s own. Again. This time, Rowan didn’t startle quite so easily. In fact, he was surprised at himself, and the happiness that blossomed in his stomach. 

He knew he couldn’t take happiness in this forever. There was no joy to be taken in a human being that acted on inhumane training, a human who sought other human contact because they were told to, not because they wanted it. But if the boy wasn’t afraid of him and his touch, that was one small victory. Rowan had a feeling he was going to have to take the little victories for what they were. 

“You’re doing great,” he said, not for the first time that hour. But this time, Rowan knew he might have been talking to himself as well. 

---

Taglist: @honey-is-mesi @aswallowimprisoned @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @honeycollectswhump @rekiroyalstraightprincemaru @tragedyinblue @clairelsonao3 @octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @peachy-panic @whumplr-reader @dislexiher @cc1010foxy @onlybadendings @panstardalia @tempoghast @whumpzone

[imjustthatbad]

The Ending We Won’t Get:

A/N: FIRST AND MOST IMPORTANT THERE IS MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND BEING CHAINED UP (not in the fun way) if that bothers you please do not read. Anywho… This is my first attempt at this kind of fanfic so please if you read this go hard on me. I did it without an editor and in the middle of the night but I needed a conclusion to this story so I’m making one. There will be some creative direction on my part but mostly trying to stick with what I have researched. Please give a read and let me know if it’s something you want me to continue. If Netflix won’t fucking save our Warrior Nun then gods damnit I will do my best to. From here on out all A/N will be at the end and I’ll add T/Ws at the top. Hope you enjoy this fellow warrior nuns.

——————

Chapter One: Dancing With Your Ghost

… A week after Adriel’s defeat…

“Have a good night Hans, remember to push the specials.”

“Alright Beatrice, have a good night and let me know if you hear from her.”

The air was cold and the rain bit her skin through her shirt as she walked from the bar back to her home above the butcher’s. She wasn’t sure what made her return to the Alps. Maybe because that’s where she was happiest, maybe because that’s what she wanted, maybe because she hoped that Ava would walk through that door any second. It’s been a week and that hasn’t happened and her hope dwindled more and more with each passing moment. As she approached the door to their…her…apartment she paused for a moment. Pushing back the hope that maybe if she opened the door she’d be greeted by the woman who she had once shared it with. She closed her eyes as she pushed the door open and once she heard the door gently hit the wall she slowly opened her eyes and… Empty. To be expected but most definitely not wanted.

She sighed and walked in, locking the door behind her. She crossed the small apartment and turned her kettle on before looking into her apartment. Nothing had changed since she and Ava had last left it. The bed meticulously made something Ava used to make fun of her for.

“It’s just going to get unmade Bea, you really don’t need to make it. I swear you can take the nun out of the Cat’s Cradle but you can’t take the Cat’s Cradle out of the nun.”

“Well, you live under the scrutiny of Mother Superion for a majority of your life and tell me not to make this bed. Besides, it helps you stay out of it till it’s time to sleep.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent enough time in a bed that I don't need any motivation to stay out of one. Well unless it involves having se..”

“..I get the point! …I’m still making this bed, now will you help please.”

“Yes mother.”

The sound of thunder pulled her from the memory far too soon. She shook her head and entered the bedroom pulling fresh clothes from the dresser and changing into warmer, less soaked clothes. Her timing was perfect as she pulled her sweatshirt down just as the kettle began to whistle. She watched the rain fall from a window in the apartment slowly sipping on her tea and attempting to relax. Being free from the obligations of being a warrior nun was still very new, she always had the pull to do something. Train, study, guide others, learn new things, help everyone with anything but now, now was just for her. An attempt at a normal life she had never had. At just being Beatrice. It felt weird, she felt wrong but “It’s still new, it’ll get easier.” Camilla had assured her a five days prior during a surprise phone call. She hadn’t wanted to lose all her friends and kept in contact when she could but at the same time she wanted to be alone. Wanted to start over. In this life or the next didn’t necessarily mean you had to die to get a second chance.

She watched the rain fall for several minutes, finishing her drink before starting her night time ritual. Same as it’s always been; shower, brush teeth, brush hair, get dressed, and pray. She knows she doesn’t have the obligation to do that last bit anymore but it made her feel less…she wasn’t sure but it helped. She walked to the couch and got under the blankets. She hadn’t gotten the courage to sleep in their bed yet. She let the soft sounds of rain and thunder lull her to sleep.

“Oh Bea…”

She opened her eyes and saw her, the small yet strong brunette kneeling next to her a soft yet sad smile on her face.

“Bea…what are you doing? Why are you gone? Where are you?”

Her eyes fluttered with confusion, she felt her eyebrows pull together as she tried to sit up but found that she was unable to move.

“Ava? Ava! Ava I can’t..I can’t move, are you okay? How are you here? What happened?”

She felt Ava’s hand run down the side of her face as she cupped her chin. She desperately wanted to pull Ava into her but when she tried to move her arms she felt the pull of metal on her wrists. Looking down she saw that she was chained to the ground.

“Ava, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

A singular tear ran down Ava’s face, did she look older? More weathered?

“I’m fine Bea, but why are you gone? Where have you run off too? You’re going to miss all the fun.”

She watched as Ava’s eyes got darker, the singular tear slowly turning black. Her voice sounded lower and harsher, like she had been screaming for years without pause. Beatrice pulled hard against the chains, she felt the all too familiar feeling of skin ripping on her wrists as her binds cut into her but she didn’t stop trying.

“Ava! What do you mean? Where are you? What’s going on? Ava please..please help me so I can help you! I miss you so much, please let me help you.”

Ava stood, her eyes continuing to darken, a dark purple light emitting from her back. The halo? No the halo is golden it doesn’t shine purple that’s impossible there’s been no mention of it ever turning purple or any other color. She pulled against the chains again, she felt a give and Ava must’ve heard it too, her focus moving from Beatrice’s face to her wrists.

“Nothing can save her now, she’s under my control. Nothing can stop my halo bearer.”

That’s not Ava’s voice but it’s not Adriel’s voice either. Who’s speaking through her? She pulled harder on the chains and felt her left arm break free and she reached out to Ava but she wasn’t fast enough. Ava side stepped and began laughing but it wasn’t her light and airy laugh Beatrice had come to love. It was someone else. This wasn’t Ava. It was her body but she’s not in control.

“So close, yet so far. We will find you, we don’t like loose ends. This war will be won by the superior army and nothing will stop us.”

Ava’s body begin fade as if she was phasing and right as Beatrice’s right arm was freed she was gone in a puff of smoke.

“AVA!”

Her eyes popped open as she quickly sat up, hearing herself scream for Ava. She stood up quickly and looked around getting her bearings. She saw her apartment, the made bed, the small night light tha Ava liked to keep on next to it. It took her a moment to convince herself it was all just a dream, no night a dream. A nightmare. She covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath.

“It was just a dream, nothing more.”

She assured herself and laid back down but as she laid back down and pulled the blankets back over her she noticed it. Her wrists, bruised but not bloody. As if she had been chained days ago and she was slowly healing from it. But that’s impossible. It was just a dream. Wasn’t it?

[dipolardruid]

OH MY GODDD I LOVE PETRA SOO MUCHH💗 ALSO THANKS FOR DOING MY REQUESTS MAN! Anddddd if the inbox isn’t too full or if you aren’t too busy I came up with another request! SO yk the request you got a while back of reader who’s only friends with Tina right? And how she will practically force reader to spend time/talk to everyone else. How will she and everyone else react to reader being clingy to someone else that isn’t Tina? Like reader spent time with everyone else and now reader prefers to be with Petra, or Paul, or Jake. And sorta just clings to one of them. Maybe even prefers to be with one of them than Tina. You can either make hcs or a oneshot of this whichever you find easier! Separate reactions or not ^^

-🌊

also take that other anons I’m the fav anon 😎

TW: Unhealthy relationships,yandere, slight mention of possible kidnapping.

"Come on please just for tonight! You knew me first anyways!" Tina says in a pleading tone after your rejection "Petra agreed to be there a little later after us." At this you tense up a little bit sighing "Ok ok I'll go." Tina smiles at this giving a small yay.

It wouldn't be long after the conversation that she would practically drag you out into her car, During the 20 minute drive she talked a lot only really allowing you to put in a few words if even that but what'd really catch your attention would be about her buisness "A simple threat about blacklisting him from my company and some warning to other companies about him which would affect any career and future in his field did the trick." You stare at her in shock, something she realizes "what?" She says in curious tone.

"Isn't that illegal?" Tina attempts to hold a smirk but fails to do so "Not if it's proven to be true information." She says without an ounce of shame "but you said he didn't do anything." Tina gives you a side glance before responding "pay some editors, some witnesses and some victims and that is all it would take utterly destroy the man from buisness to personal relationships." At this you seem to become uneasy.

Tina realizes your change in tone and immediately gives her usual and bright smile "Anyways enough of that let's talk about this special getaway!"

As you look towards the entrance once again you hear a small clank and a annoyed sigh causing you to look back at Tina who seems to be giving you a sharp stare before quickly putting on her bubbly appearance once she processes that you were staring back at her.

"Sorry it was more directed at Petra she is very rarely late so I'm just a little confused as to why she hasn't atleast called." Tina looking slightly dejected.

Seeing this you take out your brand new phone that Tina gifted you just a week ago after finding out the phone you had was quite old "I'll call her you never know if something could've happened." Before you could even start typing in your passcode Tina quickly grabs your hand covering your phone screen with the palm of her hand "No" Her tone catches you off guard due to the amount of force she had said it with.

You look around to see the table closest to you staring but quickly look away once they make eye contact with you "Oh I'm so sorry! I meant no she is probably very busy if something had happened I would've been the very first to find out you know this!" She says a little nervous at this point.

Your hands begin to grip and twirl around eachother as you begin to feel more uneasy as Tina's mood seems to go back and forth much worse today compared to previous days.

"I'm really sorry I really truly am, I don't want you to be uncomfortable I just...." Tina seems to stay quiet at this almost as if thinking but just lowers her head "I just wanted a day for ourselves....Petra doesn't even know we are even here...I'm reall-" Tina's eyes begin to water as she cuts her sentence off before completely giving in and letting out a soft sob drawing attention to your table.

You look around seeing those who are aware of the situation looking at you either in confusion or with a stink eye at the situation "Hey hey, it's alright don't cry." After some time of you comforting her she finally stops crying.

"I just really wanted to spend time with you, I see you make time for the others all the time even more for petra and it's as if you've forgotten about me when before you and I would spend time together all day everyday." She quickly continues before you can start talking "I'm glad you all are getting along, I was afraid you wouldn't have any interest in them and ignore them but now I can't help but feel as if you'd prefer me gone and I hate that, I don't want you to leave me or for any of the others to leave I hate it so much."

Hearing this you go to deny what she's saying only to realize it's true, ever since the others started spending more time with you, you seemed to slowly drift away from Tina to the point that even when you do spend time with her you'd be talking about the others or keeping an eye on your phone waiting for any calls or messages from them even with Tina right in front you.

Sighing you scratch your index finger against the table "I didn't know you were thinking this, I'm sorry... I got so caught up with the others I didn't think about how you were feeling, I promise to spend more time with you."

At this Tina quickly looks back at you with a smile "Really!? " she says in excitement keeping her tone low as to not draw anymore attention then she already has upon nodding your head she immediately brightens up seeming to pounce slightly from happiness.

After that day Tina was in much higher moods compared to before when she seemed to only go through the motions even the others seemed pleasantly surprised at her sudden change, the only one who seemed to be the same being Jake but you do catch him giving you a gentle smile once in a while before looking away.

One thing that seemed to intensify though is her clinginess before when you could at least get a small moments peace is now non existent even in the restroom where she'll go with you, she now is the one to drive you home, that's if you're lucky since 90% of the time she takes you to her home despite promising to take you to your home.

Just be careful not to fall back into old habits it will not end well she will use many methods even locking you up in her room while also letting the others in on what's happening, Petra might be the only one to really show hesitation at the plan but will go along with it once she sees you aren't treated badly.

This is avoidable as long as you agree to pretty much give away all freedoms and anatomy with the illusion that you still have your freedom after all she is letting you go out and talk to your friends and family, allowing you to attend school, and most of all allowing everything in your life to continue on smoothly so you shouldn't have an issue with sacrificing a few of your freedoms for that right?

She could always take it all away without a second thought and have you completely isolated as to where the only contact you'll ever have is them so it'd be in your best interest to just go along with it whether you like it or not.

Request are open!

[asteriaspirit]

Call & Response

“Thanks for your patience. Eager to chat. All good on my end. What's your schedule this week?”

Maybe I should've expected it.

It wasn't unusual for Kenneth to disappear off the face of the earth for two or three weeks, complaining about work and deadlines and stress, before popping back into my life as if he had never left. These text messages between us were common place—more common that I would have liked to admit...or accept. And they always caught me off guard; just when I was at the point of leaving, of walking away and never looking back on our relationship for the past year, another one of these damned messages would ping my inbox and I would read it. All those traitorous butterflies would swoop and spin in my stomach and my brain would conveniently forget that he had been missing for two or three weeks—but almost a month this time.

I worry my bottom lip as I unlock my phone and set my thumbs to tapping out a quick reply.

“Hey. Glad to know you're okay—”

I groan, re-reading the words and knowing that if they sounded sarcastic in my head, there was no way they wouldn't sound the same in his. So, I delete the line.

“Hey,” I type for the second time. “I'm pretty free this week. I've got work coming up in two days—training a new girl—and then I'm off on vacation until next Friday. Are you in my neck of the woods?”

I read it over, read it a second time, read it a third time and contemplate adding an emoji or two, but, honestly, I can't be bothered. He leaves on these long trips to the West Coast and I don't hear hide nor hair of him. No snap-chat messages, no random emojis or pics sent via text message. There's nothing. He might as well be dead.

Hell, a few times I was convinced that I'd hear about his untimely demise from some friend that snoops through his messages and relays the ghastly news to all of his contacts.

I hesitate before pressing the send key and I'm thoroughly surprised when his response is quickly.

“Should be. I'm about five hours out right now. Hoping that the boss man sends me in your direction. Been missing you terribly.”

I snort. I know exactly what he's been missing. And...I don't blame him; I've missed him in the same manner, especially on nights when I got to go home early and the apartment was too quiet. Even when we did nothing but lay in the bed together and scroll on our phones, the company was always nice. It was appreciated. But how can he sit there and say he's missed me when he hasn't reached out once? Would it have been so hard to send a thumbs up to let me know everything was okay? That he was okay?

I crane my head to the left and then to the right, attempting to ease the strain that I can feel building at the base of my skull. It didn't used to be like this. There was a point in time when I looked forward to talking with him, to laughing with him and learning about him, but that was...quite some time ago. I doubt we'll ever return to those simple and easy mannerisms again.

And that's a shame.

“Well,” I find myself typing after nibbling on my bottom lip for much too long. “Let me know when you're here and I'll do what I can to make it work out.”

The smiley-face I send him is in good faith. There's no subtext, no hidden meaning to it. I will do what I can to make sure that we have at least one night together. Even if he annoys me, there is a craving that we share that must be sated and I'd be a fool to ignore it for any longer than I already have. Granted, it's his fault that it's been ignored, pushed to the wayside and forcibly forgotten. And now that he's return, it too has reared its ugly head. It feels hungry and vicious inside of me. I wonder if it tugs at him in the same manner that it does me...

The phone dings a third time and I stop gathering my things from the passenger seat to peek at it. Surely he's not still talking, right?

“I apologize again for being out of touch,” the messages states and I can feel my eyebrows lifting. He is not the type of person to apologize directly. There's always a reason behind the apology. He was running late, he forgot something at his hotel, he didn't know that we were meeting an hour before and not an hour later, etcetera. I accept these words, swallow them down and force them to fill this hole that he's made of me; a hole that can only be filled by him.

“I've had a crazy time out west, but not in a good way. It's been...pretty stressful. And I'm hoping that I can relax for a few days and we can get back into our regular routine before I'm gone again. Shouldn't be gone long this time, only a few days. And then I should be back more next month. A lot more than I have been.”

I exhale slowly. Because I've heard these words before—I've read these exact phrases before and I don't want to get my hopes up. I don't want to throw logs onto the budding embers of hope and have it all blow up in my face a third time. Honestly, it's probably been more times than that, but I don't want to think about all the times my heart has overruled my brain and left everyone confused when the outcome was the same.

“I completely understand that,” I type back while nodding to myself. “I've been working like a dog and there's all this shit happening at work—lots of turnover. I've been out of sorts too. So, if you're feeling low, don't worry about us linking up. It's no big deal.”

The hole inside my stomach yawns and growls in disagreement. I can feel sweat begin to bead along my upper lip even though the dashboard reads that outside of my tiny Versa Note, it is a cool 53° Fahrenheit. I shouldn't feel warm, I shouldn't feel achy or even teary-eyed as I press the send button.

I reach toward the driver's side door handle and pull it open when the phone dings a fourth time.

At this point, I'm never getting out of the car.

...And it's that thought that forces me out of the car.

If he was so intent on speaking to me, then he could wait until I've gotten in and settled down from work. After all, this normally happened the other way around; me waiting on a response from him about...whatever. The time we were meeting up, the place where he wanted to hang out for the night; he'd tell me these things last minute and then expect me to just appear there as if I had some cosmic powers of teleportation.

It wouldn't kill him to wait on a reply from me. No more than it killed me the past three weeks waiting on him.

I'm thankful that I live on the first floor of the apartment building. I don't have the energy to climb up stairs tonight and I shoulder open my front door while attempting to stop myself from yawning. I can almost feel the soft cushions of the bed beneath me, but there's things I have to do before I can succumb to the blissful void of slumber.

Bags get thrown onto one end of my couch, I toe off my gym shoes and shrug out of my jacket before hanging it up. I make sure the front door is locked before I find myself slumping down on the couch as well, a groan of satisfaction tumbling from between my teeth. Oh, it felt amazing to be home.

“Thanks for that,” his message reads, “but I want to get back to our routine. As long as you do as well? Everything okay? You seem mopey.”

I squint at the phone between my palms and tip my head slightly to the side. Mopey? Did my words really convey the “mopey” feeling? I scroll quickly, reread a few lines, and snort to myself again. He was hearing what he wanted to hear. Definitely.

“Eh,” I type by way of response while shrugging my shoulders in the same moment. “I've just got a lot going on right now. Not really mopey. Just tired.”

“Are you sure? You didn't backslide while I was gone, did you? Or, maybe you got your feelings hurt because I was out of touch for so long?”

I clench my jaw and allow the phone to slip from my hands and land on the cushion next to me. He had some amount of nerve saying those words to me. Get my feelings hurt? Of course I got my feelings hurt! I didn't know if he was alive or wrapped around a tree! What if he fell between the cracks in an earthquake or a steel beam fell from one of the buildings he was working on and impaled him?! I wouldn't even know!!

Rubbing my hands up and down my face, I sigh and attempt to push past the violent emotion that swirls unbidden in my chest. I have half a mind to call him, to tell him how much his lack of communication really pissed me off, but it's late and I don't want to end the night on a sour note. So, instead, I close my eyes and count backward from ten.

...I'm feeling marginally better by the time I hit two.

“Just got a lot on my brain,” I type back to him, the words leaking from my fingers slowly. I wonder how much I should tell him. Does he really care about what's going on here, with me and my job, or is this just filler to take up the time between now and whenever he finally lays down to sleep? Maybe keeping it lighter is the better idea.

“No backsliding,” I type after a pause. “No one to backslide with.” And I end the sentence with an smiley face sticking their tongue out at the viewer.

And...he doesn't reply. Not immediately.

I've gone through my purse, taken out receipts and change and even put on pajamas before I find myself back at my couch, phone in hand, a new message waiting to be read.

“For future reference,” he says, “if you're trying to make yourself sound extra good to your Sir, saying a shortage of playmates is why you haven't been bad isn't the best angle to take...”

...I hate that he can read between the lines. I hate that he can pick up my subtext without even trying. I hate that sometimes it feels like he knows me better than I know myself. I hate playing catch-up with him and he's always

in the lead, never giving me an ounce of room to make a single mistake. And, most of all, I hate that I like it so...fucking...much.

I clear my throat, willing the cocktail of embarrassment and arousal to subside before I attempt to reply to him.

“That wasn't my intention,” I type, but I don't get far before I'm erasing the sentence. He would know if I'm lying.

There is no excuse that I can give him, no explanation that would sound good either from my tongue or my fingers. There's only the truth and I am laid bare because of it. He was right when he mentioned that I was in my feelings about him being gone. I was. I am.

I am not a creature that enjoys being alone.

I'm still floundering with what to type to him, how to salvage this situation, when the phone dings in my hands. My gaze is drawn to the screen and his words.

“I'll let you know when I pull in. Dunno if it'll be tonight or tomorrow. But I'll keep you informed.”

“Okay,” I quickly type back. “Thanks. I'll see you when you get here.”

“You will.”

Against all better judgment, I allow myself to hope.

[mytraumanarrative]

I Play Rugby Now - Fall 2014

Written March 16, 2024

I started college in 2014 immediately after my high school graduation. My undergraduate university requires all incoming freshmen  to attend a freshman orientation. We were put in the small groups and toured around campus in the heat and the hills. Learning where different buildings were and playing mandatory get to know you games with other terrified 18 year olds. In my orientation group, I met a girl named Caylee Joye. Caylee was bleach-blonde with striking blue eyes, too much mascara, and of average build, except for her giant tits. We strongly resembled one another at the time, physically and humor wise. She was my first friend at college. Though I was only an hour and a half away from my hometown and my college was tiny and isolated among wheat fields, it was comforting to have a friend in what felt like a very large and scary place.

Caylee told me she played rugby back home and she was looking forward to trying out for the girls rugby team here. I thought it was cool, kind of hot, even, but I don’t recall having any strong interest in playing myself at the time. Somehow I didn’t get any of Caylee‘s contact info by the time our orientation had ended. Though I am generally likable, I was and am still fairly shy. If it weren’t for the unique spelling of her name, my desperate attempts to find her on social media may have been fruitful. The first week of classes came and I was relieved to see Caylee in one of my women’s studies classes. She caught me up on what dorm she was in, about her move from the west side, and how to spell her name. When Caylee said she was still planning to try out for rugby in the coming weeks, a girl seated near us shifted her eyes on our direction.

That’s the day I met Sara.

Sara told us she was on the rugby team in a matter of fact way that didn’t really feel like an invitation to know more. She wore a bold, red, zip-up sweatshirt with her sorority logo on it and a full face of make up, Lululemon black leggings with little white ankle socks peeking over her black and white vans. Her sweatshirt hugged the curves of her large body, her size being the only thing that made her stand out from other sorority girls. She clearly fell somewhere between desperately wanting attention and also wanting to never be seen; needing to be noticed and hating what she had to offer. I didn’t yet know just how deeply that ran. (I don’t say these things to confirm that her size made her anything less than her sorority sisters because I do not believe that. But the way she felt about herself is a integral part of her experience and of this story.)

I didn’t know at the time, but meeting Sara would change the course of my life forever. I can’t for sure say what it was about her, and not in some indescribable quality about her way. She was actually so average that I cannot recall what drew me into her, but I was. If anything, she stood out because she didn’t fit in, and her shyness made her seem kind of mean. When she told us she was on the rugby team it didn’t seem like a desire to connect, her face didn’t light up, her eyes didn’t sparkle (though later, when she frequently asked me to tell the story of how I immediately fell in love with her, I would lie and tell her that they did). I think I noticed a desperate need to be validated and the hardness she lives behind. And I think it was at that moment I decided deep in my gay little guts that I would be the one to soften her, to reassure her of all her insecurities, to prove to her she is a good and beautiful person. I decided all of that before I even knew if she was a good and beautiful person.

So this girl, who clearly hated herself and was trying desperately to prove her worth by fitting in, somehow won me over with her bad attitude, side eye, obligatory white people smile (you know, the one where we purse our lips tight over our teeth and look a little constipated), and her immediate disinterest in me.

First impressions are a bitch. And now I play rugby.

Well, played. For one year to be exact. Though I tried out for rugby with the intention of becoming Sara’s Knight in a Shining Armor, I also discovered that it is inherently the gayest sport alive. God Bless. Having recently come out and simultaneously dumped by my high school girlfriend (that’s another story that you’ll probably get to hear about later) I was ready to live my gay college girl dreams.

Sara and I didn’t start dating right away, not even close. But this is where the obsession began. Memories tend to become warped with time and even more so after enduring years of narcissistic gaslighting, so it can be hard to reflect on my actual thoughts or feelings during that time. How much was I truly attracted upon our first meeting? How long did it take for her to notice? I don’t know. What I do know is I became obsessed with making her feel good about herself, it made me feel good about myself. Every skillfully placed self-deprecating comment motivated me to save her from her own insecurity, and she knew it too. My new life’s purpose was to be good enough, perfect enough, that she believed she too was perfect. (Spoiler alert: impossible.)

Disclaimer: if you don’t know, or haven’t already gathered, I am a trans man. I didn’t know or come out as trans until I was about 20 years old. So, much of this begins when I was still identifying as a girl, and even more strongly, a lesbian. All trans people are different in how they like to be referred to in the past and present. Some hold firmly to the fact that they “always knew,” having had a strong sense of who they were before they had the language or safety to share it with the world. I did not “always knew.” Yes, looking back there are signs of the beginning glimmers of gender dysphoria that I can decipher knowing what I know now. But I personally relate strongly to having a girlhood, discovering myself as a lesbian, and learning to find my place among other women. Again, everyone is different, and if you have a trans person in your life that you don’t know how to refer to in any tense, just ask. 

[the-cat-chat]

November 4, 2023

Seven (1995)

Disenchanted, near-retirement detective William Somerset and his newly transferred partner David Mills attempt to stop a serial killer before he can complete a series of murders.

JayBell: My dad loves to reference this movie with, “What’s in the box?!” And it doesn’t disappoint when the moment finally comes around. Also this is my second watch of this movie and he repeats this line wayyyyy more than I remembered and with so many different inflections.

What I like about this movie is that it almost feels like watching an extremely long episode of Criminal Minds. I'm guessing the plot of the movie was probably more original when it first came out, but since the whole seven deadly sins thing has been done many times since then, I can't help but feel like the plot is overdone.

Having Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt team up for this movie is the highlight for me. I love how their characters are contrasted throughout the movie. Not just their experience level, but their personalities, their interests, and even their approaches to police work. It’s kind of like a buddy cop movie in the sense that two detectives who are at odds eventually come to an understanding and develop a bond.

This is only the second time I’ve watched this movie, but I do think it’s a little predictable at the end. Although the end is dark, it feels poetic in a way for both of their characters.

Overall, enjoyable crime mystery with nice acting and a solid plot.

Rating: 6/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: Welll. I’ve tried to forget this movie since we watched it. I haven’t. Never will. Good old mind like a steel trap. Oh calamity. First it wasn’t enough that I had shoveled far too much spaghetti into my mouth 10 minutes before we watched this, actively wishing to barf when… oh you guessed it the first sin…. Yeah that’s greed… oh how’s the greed victim die…death by gorging on spaghetti. Thank you universe I will be here all week.

And I enjoyed the movie for the rest of the time, it was a bit slow, but entertaining- you’ve got young Brad Pitt, a scholarly totaaaalllly retiring Morgan Freeman, and the seven deadly sins. That was until the end. Again, if I ever afford the lobotomy I desperately need, I may be made whole again. I forgot Kevin Spacey was our freak of the week. Annnnd he didn’t disappoint. I’m soo mad. Ya know as much as this “what’s in the box,” was hyped upppp! I didn’t expect it to be ThiSSSsss. As it was happening. I knew what was happening. But like I’m sooooo mad. Did I say that already? All the victims were so planned out for soooo long- then this man that totally barfs at any mundane human contact and convo is envious??? Pllsssss. And the whole deal with the wrath gets me peeved. I really can’t get into it for my safety. Like did Brad Pitt’s character have any say in his sin??? Like wrath is an overwhelming sense of anger directed towards an undeserving person???? And like I get of course there’s the choice that he could’ve not killed Kevin Spacey- but then he was basically emotionally goaded into the act??? It just felt too easy of an ending- plusssss Detective Mills had just moved there- was Kevin Spacey just always going to wing his last two sins?? I have so many infuriating QuEsTiOooooNnnnnsSssss. Like for reals was he just so sure anyone he chose would fall into his trap??? Uggg. Anyway loved the delivery of “wHat’S IN thE BoXx??” Best thing I’ve ever seen Brad Pitt do.

Rating: 5/10 boxes 📦

[imaginefan]

The User

Damon Salvatore X Fem!REader

Word Count: 1064

Requested: Anon

Request: Damon is using you to make Elena jealous. You don't believe it at first until you overhear an argument between Elena and Damon. (Elena is still confused between Stefan and Damon) but knows she has feelings for both of them. Reader is cold toward Damon he doesn't care at first but wanted to know why she's being distant, the two argue he doesn't bother but then weeks go by Damon realizes he misses reader and how he messed up cause she really did care for him. One shot gf

You had been with Damon for a couple of months when people started to warn you that he might be using you but you had been together 7 months when he finally gave you the evidence you were so severely hoping didn't exist. The truth was you loved Damon and you wanted to believe that he was in love with you but truth be told you knew that it was unlikely after everything that he said to and about Elena it was clear that he was using you to make her jealous and persuade her to choose him. The evidence however came from you walking into the boat house when they were arguing.

"Damon you can't do that! I'm with Stefan and you are with (Y/N)." Elena said you couldn't see them but was sure that they were probably standing too close for comfort and you couldn't bring yourself to actually look at them. "She won't know, I mean it's not like it's actually serious." He answered, you could hear the smirk in his voice, you almost thought he knew that you were there because surely he could hear your heartbeat. "Damon, stop!" Elena ordered. "I'm not going to kiss you and everything that you are doing is not making me want to be with you," Elena argued, you heard the sound of stumbling and you were sure that she had pushed him away. "You can't tell me that Stefan is better than me," Damon said, you blinked as you tried to stop yourself from crying. Why did you love him so much if he couldn't love you? "Damon no," Elena said firmly, she continued talking but someone touched your shoulder gently, you jumped before looking over at them to see Stefan was standing there, he took your hand pulling you out of the house, and you looked back at the door for a second before following him willingly. "What about Elena?" You asked and he looked at the house for a second before shaking his head. "She doesn't need saving." He said, stopping you from looking through the window behind you and instead directing you back home.

Over the next couple of days, Damon attempted to get in contact with you, you assumed to end the relationship but you never picked up the phone or showed up for meetings. He had no idea that you had heard the argument that day, he hadn't bothered to check his surroundings when he saw Elena he focused solely on her. That was why he was so confused when he walked into your room. You were on your bed reading, your phone was placed face down on your bed, and you'd been ignoring him. "What the hell is your problem?" Damon asked. "Do you really care?" You asked. "What?" He asked. "It's not like it's actually serious or anything." You quoted his words back at him and he frowned. "You were there?" He asked, realising that this had all started after his argument with Elena. "Do you think this was going to make me stay, make me realise that I loved you?" "No this was going to make you realise that we aren't together anymore and you are not a part of your life." You answered. "I'm not wasting any more time on you." "Don't be-" "Petty? I wasted a lot of time on you, wasted a lot of love, I'll admit that I love you and it's worth nothing to you and a burden to me." You explained as you looked at the man and rolled your eyes looking back at your book, in record time he was across the room, he grabbed you by the chin and threw your book across the room in the process and made you look at him. "You expect me to be afraid of you but you broke me and honestly anything you do now validates my choice to walk away from you." "I don't need you." He growled out and you rolled your eyes. "I know, that's why you're here." You pulled yourself away from him, he looked at you for a second before leaving and you walked over to the other side of the room getting your book and continuing with your quiet day as if nothing had happened.

It was over the next couple of days that Damon realised just what he was missing with you not around, he missed when he'd come back from a fight of any kind and you clean the wounds even though you knew that they were going to heal, how you'd cook him food even if he didn't have to eat, you'd never complain when he got clingy, you accepted everything that he said to you and knew when he was joking vs when he was being an asshole. There was something missing from his life and he was starting to see how you were probably the first and last chance he had at fixing it.

Damon watched as you looked over Jeremy's injuries and helped him wrap his arms, you were laughing at something he said before standing up and walking over to Bonnie to help her "you're an idiot for messing that up." Stefan said as he stood next to his brother. "I didn't mess anything up, there was nothing there in the first place," Damon answered, Stefan looked at you as you gently cleaned Bonnie's head and put a dressing over the small cut. "You keep telling yourself that but the longer you wait the harder it'll be to fix it." Stefan answered, "you have to figure out who you really want and what it means to have them." "Yeah yeah, baby brother, ever the romantic," Damon muttered, “what about you and Elena then?” “You're right you ruined that too,” Stefan answered sarcasm coating his tone as he tapped him on the shoulder and walked away, Damon glared as he walked over to get a drink but he did find himself looking at you again. "Anyone need medical attention?" You asked, everyone else gave you some kind of verbal decline but he wanted to pull you away from everyone else and have you look him over like you had many times before but instead, you didn't spare him a glance in favour of leaving for the night saying you had a shift to cover at The Grill.

*Part 2*

Requests and general question!

[stardust-kenobi]

Reminiscence

Part Five

Part Four

Obi Wan Kenobi x F!Reader

Summary: Your escape from Batuu proves to be a challenge, but Obi Wan is prepared to sacrifice anything to ensure your safety.

Warnings: SMUT, fluff, alcohol, protective obi wan!!! canon-typical violence, death

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: babes we are diving head first into smut here after the flashback. Also I want to note that not every part will be smutty but I cannot resist writing it while they’re holed up in a hotel room together I mean c'mon...AND I got a little carried away with the flashback, oops?

Gif cred: @bladesrunner

"Anakin!" You called out to him across the bustling chaos in the crowded bar.

"I'm coming, don't worry" He teased, glasses that were filled to the rim sloshing back and forth in his hands, threatening to spill on the nearest unlucky patron.

"I thought I'd lost you for a second there" You joked, taking the glass into your grip.

"Hey, it's not my fault you ordered a complicated drink"

"I did not" You laughed.

"Really?"

"You’re dramatic" you teased.

He shook his head playfully, bringing the burning sensation of liquor to his lips. You followed suit, allowing the liquid courage to guide your night into the right direction.

You looked around, remembering those who'd you invited to join you. "Is Ahsoka coming?"

"I'm not sure. I think she might be weirded out to have drinks with me. Rex was supposed to come, too. I haven't seen him yet"

"I assume Obi Wan isn't coming?" Your tone settled in disappointment.

"No, I tried to get him to come, I'm sorry"

"No, that's okay. He just needs to have some fun every now and then" You responded, throwing your hands up.

"Yeah good luck convincing him of that" Anakin rolled his eyes before taking another sip of his drink.

It was also noted by Anakin that you fought hard to conceal your despair and disappointment. You thought maybe he was onto you, and that he'd caught sight of your fleeting glances at Obi Wan and the way you perked up at any mention of him. Anakin's senses were heightened to that of unusual behavior, and since you two had began to spend more time together, you feared what he would sense from you.

"Hey" Anakin started, "Its not that he doesn't want to spend time with you." He tried to console you.

"What? I know. Its just not his thing. I get it" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to brush it off even though you appreciated that he cared.

Anakin did not seem convinced. 79's was as packed tonight as it typically was on a weekend. The bar was usually over-occupied with Clone Troopers, but you caught sight of a few non-troopers in the vicinity, even other Jedi.

"Y/N!" You heard a gentle voice call from behind you. Ahsoka and Rex together. You sighed, thankful for their presence.

"Hey! I'm so glad you both came" You smiled, taking Ahsoka into a quick hug.

"I think we could both use a break from our responsibilities" Ahsoka noted, looking up to Rex, who was wearing casual clothing. This was a shock to you, as you could never picture him wearing anything outside of his armor.

"Y/N" He nodded to you, a smile barely gracing his lips. He looked…good, and you couldn’t help but notice.

“Hey Rex” you smiled, holding his eye contact while sipping your cocktail.

Truly, it was for the best that Obi Wan didn’t come. Tonight was meant to help redirect with your impossible fixation on Master Kenobi. The attachment was becoming unbearable, and no attempt of meditation would shake it. After your conversation with him last week about your endlessly mutual distraction of one another, you’d both had to step back from interacting outside of your training.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop the lingering thoughts that remained. Alcohol was to be your distraction tonight, but you were two drinks in, and your eyes were traveling upon someone else.

Rex observed the room before his gaze landed on you. The atmosphere grew louder by the second.

“What is that?” He pointed to your cup.

“Well, if you ask Anakin, it’s a ‘complicated order’” You jabbed your elbow into Anakin, “but, it’s a Bespin Fizz. I just ask them to add grenadine”

“How is that complicated?”

“It’s not, he’s just a pain in the ass” You yelled, leaning back so he’d hear you.

This earned a laugh from the captain, a reaction you’d not seen often from him.

“What are you drinking? I’ll buy” you offered. He waved his hand to deny your offer.

“Nope, I insist” You pushed.

“Just whiskey, please” He requested.

You shot him a pleased look, “Whiskey, huh? Took you more for a beer guy”

“Not really a fan” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

It wasn’t clear to you how much time had passed since Ahsoka and Rex arrived, but you’d not spent one second away from Rex since. Your tipsy gaze scanned the room for the other half of your party, and you found Anakin and Ahsoka playing a card game with others in the 501st, and by the looks of the empty glasses on the table, it was likely a drinking game. You chuckled to yourself, seeing how much fun they were having.

You and Rex chilled at the bar, talking about any and everything under the stars.

“Did you want to join them?” You asked. Big groups like that were not your thing. You’d opt to sit it out if Rex decided to go join Anakin and Ahsoka.

“No, I’d rather just sit here with you” Rex spoke slowly, bringing his glass to his mouth but never breaking eye contact with you.

“Okay” You smiled. Rex was attractive and that was something you’d never deny. Your desperation for attention tonight as well as the liquid courage that coursed through your blood was breaking the barrier of what you thought to be acceptable. It seemed the same was happening for Rex.

Suddenly, a familiar tune began blaring through the overhead speakers. You perked up, making sure you heard it right. It was your favorite song.

“Oh my gods. I love this song!” You squealed with excitement.

“Yeah?”

“Yes!! I haven’t heard it in so long”

“Would you…maybe want to dance?” Rex hesitated, his fear peaking through his words.

“I would love to” You smirked to him as he held out his hand to help you off the bar stool.

“Thank you”

“Anything for you, Commander” He whispered. You got chills as he used your title in such a tone.

Effortlessly, you maneuvered through the crowd, your hand becoming sweaty in the grasp of his palm, but you didn’t care. A small opening on the outside of the dance floor opened up, and you took the opportunity.

You turned to Rex, placing your hands on his shoulders, and began to sway your hips to the beat. He did what any man would do in this situation, and swayed with you, mimicking your rhythm in a more masculine way.

As the song progressed, your hips shifted closer and closer to him. Rex seemed pleased with how close you were to him now, your bodies pressed against each other. You had almost forgotten about Obi Wan. Almost. The way you danced, you felt your thoughts about him disappear, but as your drunken movements grew heavier, you could only wish that it was his body against yours instead.

You turned around, placing your back to his chest. He knew this was wrong. You knew it too. But right now, it felt so right. Rex’s hands trailed up the front of you, starting at your hips before finding a resting spot at your waist. He grabbed you like he wanted you, and you moved your hips against his crotch like you wished he’d take you home.

Lost in the beat of the song and the swaying of your bodies, you didn’t register the arm ripping you off of him.  You looked in the direction of the person who disrupted you, and your heart dropped into your belly.

Obi Wan.

“Rex”

“General Kenobi” Rex responded and looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Both of you, outside with me now” He shouted over the blasting music and club chaos.

You exchanged a look of remorse with Rex and shrugged your shoulders in pure confusion. Walking what felt like a walk of shame, you followed him outside.

The outdoor air refreshed you instantly, replacing the congested feeling of the atmosphere inside the bar. It was the only feeling of relief you had in that moment.

“Wait here” Obi Wan instructed at the door of the bar, leaving you under the awning. He lead Rex further away, but you could still make out the conversation. 

“What were you thinking, Rex?!” He asked, frustrated beyond words.

“Sir, I am sorry”

“She’s a Padawan. And more importantly, my Padawan. This is completely inappropriate”

“I know. I-” Rex stumbled over his words, “it won’t happen again”

“I’ve got good reason to report this to Anakin”

You tensed. Anakin was in the bar, but from where you were dancing, there’s no way he could’ve seen the two of you. He would not be happy about this.

Obi Wan dismissed Rex, and you watched as he shamefully walked away, shooting you a look of ‘I’m sorry’ before he rounded the corner. You wanted to shout to him that this wasn’t your fault but there was no need to rile up Obi Wan any further right now. Obi Wan remained standing down the sidewalk, turning now to you. Before he could call you over, you stormed toward him.

“Obi Wan what was that!?” You scoffed. You’d never, ever, lost your temper with him, and so rarely did you ever address him as anything besides Master.

“What were you doing with Rex?” He interrogated. Looking down at you standing so close to him, his appeared to be disappointed.

“What did it look like? We were just dancing!” You grew annoyed. Was he serious right now?

“What it looked like…” Obi Wan began, stepping closer to you and lowering his voice “it looked like Rex was about 30 seconds away from taking you to bed”

What a polite way to say he was going to fuck you.

“So, what?” You spat. You knew exactly what. It wasn’t strictly forbidden to have relations with a clone, but it would be greatly frowned upon.

“You are not to do this again, Y/N” He scolded.

“You’re not my father” You said firmly, astonished with yourself for letting that phrase fly freely.

“No, I'm certainly not! Because I would’ve never raised a daughter to behave that way!” He yelled now, causing you to flinch. You were taken aback for a moment, hurt by his outburst and harsh words.

“Just say that you’re jealous. Admit it, Master Kenobi” You mocked, angry at him for yelling. You wouldn’t dream of saying this sober.

“You’re drunk and this conversation ends now.” He dismissed your accusation, beginning to walk away from you.

“So you’re not jealous? You just came to find me in a bar to take my fun away?” You shouted after him.

“No, I-” Obi Wan stopped himself to think carefully through his next words, he thought for a moment…trying to collect his thoughts. Eventually, he walked back over to you, “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret” his voice grew soft.

“I can take care of myself, Obi Wan”

“I don’t doubt that, Y/N, I just…I worry about your safety when I’m not around”

“Rex would never hurt me” You voiced the obvious.

“I know” He hung his head.

“So what is wrong with you?”

“We can’t talk about it anymore. You know that” He whispered while finding it hard to even look at you now.

That said everything you needed to know. A sorrowful feeling overcame you. It’s not as though you were trying to make him jealous because, to your knowledge, he wasn’t even there. It would be a lie, though, if you said it didn’t give you a certain satisfaction to know that he was, in fact, jealous. He could deny it all he wanted, but you knew how he felt.

You were drunk, but not drunk enough to forget every sensual feeling, every gentle word, every fleeting moment of tension and every time you came close to cutting through that tension with a knife.

“I’m sorry for ruining your fun” he began, “but seeing you dancing like that with him…” Obi Wan trailed off, clenching his jaw to conceal his anguish. He needn’t say another word for you to understand. It was jealousy. But his pride refused to let him admit it.

The only sounds you heard was the distortion of the music within the club, distant traffic roaring above you, and your own thoughts spiraling at a million miles an hour. You didn’t know what to say. Finally, Obi Wan looked back to you, and he didn’t dare look away from your regretful expression.

“Will you at least walk me back home please?” You asked softly, knowing he had to go back to the Temple anyways.

Obi Wan nodded. He was stunned that you wanted anything to do with him in that moment.

It was a quiet walk home, but Obi Wan rested peacefully that night knowing you were home safe and more importantly…alone. He felt a foreign sense of selfishness, but he could help what came to his mind next.

If he couldn’t have you, no one else should.

This wasn’t how you pictured your morning at all. Typically, you’d start with a cup of caf and a few minutes of meditation. Sometimes you’d even write in a journal to work through your thoughts. At most, a stroll through nature was a good way to get your day started.

Obi Wan’s face buried in your cunt while his tongue worked fervently upon your clit was not what you had expected, but here you were, fading in and out of absolute paradise, your climax threatening to spill over any second. Coarse, rough patches of his beard rubbed deliciously raw against the inside of your thighs.

No other man has never done this to you and Gods, you couldn’t believe what you’d been missing. It only took one casual mention that you’d never experienced a man’s tongue as the crux of your legs for him to take it as a challenge. Then again, he’d do just about anything to hear you cry those pretty little noises you make.

“Fuck” You whimpered as you rolled your hips against his mouth.

“Please, can I come now, Obi Wan?” You pleaded breathlessly. He’d been edging you for so long, ripping away your pleasure every time he sensed that you were close.

The force certainly worked in weird ways. You never anticipated that it could bond you two sexually, but it was something you’d not felt before with any other partner, and Obi Wan was the first force sensitive being you’d been intimate with. Although you’d both shut yourselves off from using the force, no amount of mental strength could blind you of your heightened senses.

Obi Wan looked up at you, his mouth still working to devour your aching bundle of nerves. His hunger for you was never ending and he sensed that you were close. Finally, he gives in, not pulling away when that wave started to crash.

“Oh my gods” You whined when your orgasm broke open so suddenly. It burst from the sensitivity of your clit and radiated out through your blood, sparks igniting across your skin. The intensity of your pleasure knocked the breath from your lungs, causing a choked cry of his name to float across your lips. Your back arched, but Obi Wan brought an arm up to hold you down as he persisted.

Pulling away, Obi Wan held an expression of desperation, wanting…no, needing to fuck you right then.

“My darling”, He spoke as he wiped his down his beard, collecting your arousal that soaked his chin, “I will never get tired of how beautiful you sound when you come”

“Then do it again” You insisted.

“Sweetheart, I’d love nothing more than to sink my cock in between your beautiful legs right now” He began, and and pained look flashed in his gaze. He absorbed the sight of your bare body beneath him, his grasp digging into your hips. “But, we really should go. The transport ship leaves soon”

His restraint was admirable, because with the way his jaw clenched and fingernails dug into your skin, he was one eyelash fluttering away from giving in.

“I think we can make it quick” You leaned up, whispering against his ear. He smirked devilishly, knowing you’d sway him into a couple more minutes of this.

“How could I last long with you, anyhow?” He concurred, leaning down to place his swollen lips upon yours, allowing you a taste of yourself on him.

“Lay on your side” He instructed, and you did as he asked. Swiftly, he spooned himself behind you, pulling his erection from his pants and quickly pressing it against your throbbing slit, waiting to push inside.

With his chest pressed firmly into your back, he brought his hand around to find your clit, and began to gently rub it, careful of how sensitive you were after your first climax.

Without another second of hesitation, he curled his hips up and into you, his cock sliding between your thighs in the process. He groaned so deeply, his lips gracing your ear, allowing you to hear the extent of pleasure that you provided for him. Obi Wan held himself there for a moment, taking in the warmth and wetness of you.

Your clit pulsed against his fingertips as they circled it gently. His hips remained still, but the sensation of being completely filled and stimulated like this at the same time was foreign but exhilarating.

Finally, he began thrusting. His fingers rubbed you in the rhythm with his hips. You threw your head back against his chest as he fucked you. You’d never get tired of that feeling. That sudden feeling of having him sunken into your cunt.

Recently you’ve been thinking back to all those times that just his hand brushing against yours made your knees go weak, and now he’s pounding into you for the 4th time in 48 hours. You used to touch yourself to fantasies exactly like this, which is why you assume that the tingling feeling of tension and unfamiliarity had not yet passed.

Usually it was gone after the first time you slept with someone, but with Obi Wan? Those butterflies weren’t just fluttering in your stomach...they were having a party, feeling like every time was the first. Your nerves were not likely to ever settle around him, and truly, you didn’t want them to.

He felt the way you responded to how he fucked you, and smiled to himself as he watched you looking down to his hand, “Do you like that, my love?”

“Mhmm” You moaned, feeling him pick up his pace while his breathing grew faster. He was the most attentive lover you’d ever had. He cared so deeply for your own pleasure, which really is a bare minimum but the galaxy is full of awful men, and you’d had your fair share.

That tightened coil in your lower belly was bound to unwind any moment and he could sense your approach already.

“Y/N” He whimpered, you turned to him, attacking his supple lips.

“Fuck, Obi Wan you’re going to make me come again”

“Let go for me” He commanded.

Your walls clenching around his length as your orgasm flooded you triggered his own climax at the same time. His cum spilled into you while you rode your euphoric high. He squeezed himself close to you, both of you overwhelmed with reaching your peaks simultaneously.

Obi Wan’s chest rose and fell against your back as you both floated down. He carefully pulled out of you before placing a delicate kiss on your shoulder, running his hands down the sides of your arms.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” He muttered.

You nodded, wishing so bad you could let your eyelids flutter closed to fall into a deep slumber.

It was bittersweet, you thought, taking one look back at the room where the two of you unraveled ten years of tension into a beautiful expression of your desire for one another. The sheets upon the bed were a mess of fabric, only a further reminder of how wonderful the last 2 days had been. You smiled to yourself as you shut the door one final time.

Something was off. You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was, but your senses felt…alerted. You opted to not bring it up to Obi Wan as you both strolled down the hallway to the elevators because it was probably nothing.

“We have to let Satja know that we are leaving” He noted as the elevator doors swooshed open, "Since we are here unofficially, its only polite to let him know we've departed", He smiled down to you.

The sight that struck you when the lobby came into view led you to believe that you wouldn’t be able to speak to Satja at all.

The once eccentric, loud, never-ending, party-going patrons lay lifeless on the floor in front of you. They were slain in the very spot they finished their last drinks, caught by surprise it seems, by the stormtroopers lining the walls.

But that wasn’t all, no. Not just stormtroopers. Someone worse…an inquisitor.

That’s when your eyes snapped from the death pooling in the lobby to that of Satja’s flailing body floating in the air.

No, not him, you thought.

To less of a surprise, the commanding trooper you'd bumped into yesterday hovered behind the most terrifying inquisitor you'd ever laid eyes on. The commander must've spent too many hours contemplating your interaction, or perhaps you were the victim of bad luck, either way, panic settled into you.

A sinking feeling pressed against your chest when you recognized the lifeless form behind the desk...Nesa, the sweet receptionist from before. She couldn't have been more than 19 years old, her life now ripped away from her before it even truly started. That made you fold within yourself, but you couldn't be defeated by your emotions now.

So much death, you sensed. It flooded you, overpowering your restraint, like the force insisted to be felt, and damn your efforts to cut yourself off.

“Obi Wan” Your whisper hitched in your throat as you froze.

“Behind the wall” He whispered back, swiftly moving behind the wall that barely shielded you from the open lobby.

“We know you’re hiding Jedi here…and you’re going to tell us where” The inquisitor spoke.

You barely caught a glimpse of the inquisitor. He was tall and slender, and appeared to be from Dathomir, an assumption you made based on the tales you’d heard of that place. His golden, almost yellow skin and horns gave him a menacing look.

“Never” Satja choked on his breathing as he insisted on defiance. Obi Wan’s eyebrows pressed together in anguish. He wanted to stop this, but was not foolish enough to put himself in that danger.

"What do we do?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

"There's got to be another way out of here. They'll start searching the rooms soon. All it will take is one probe droid to scan our faces and we are dead" He reminded you. As a former Padawan, you were low on the radar for the Empire, but...Obi Wan? He was their primary target, along with others on the Council whose status was unknown. You often wondered what happened to all of them.

As you searched his expression for comfort, you found none. You were both terrified, and watched each other like it might be the last sight you'll see.

"Tell us now, or I will burn this place to the ground" The inquisitor threatened, letting a scowling chuckle fall from his lips. This was a game to him.

"Let it burn, then" Satja coughed, his breath failing him. You were amazed at his restraint to refuse them information, but your heart broke. You thought to yourself then that you probably would've never been a very good Jedi Knight, as you found it impossible not to connect with those around you, even those you had such minimal encounters with.

The inquisitor laughed, struck with awe of Satja's commitment to his business and his pride. You could not help but flinch when the distant sounds of struggle suddenly ceased, followed by the sound of a body colliding with the floor. He was gone.

"Search the rooms"

"Sir?" The commanding trooper asked in confusion. There were hundreds of rooms in this Inn.

"Every. Single. One." The inquisitor snapped back.

You softly gasped as the stomping of uniformed feet marched nearer to the corner behind which you hid from them.

"Go, go!" Obi Wan shouted in a whisper.

Your heart had not leapt from your chest, no, it had simply left you completely. Everything moved as a delusional blur of endless hallways, blindly following Obi Wan's directions.

Modulated voices and the stomping of boots filled the space of the corridors, but they had failed to find you two before you made it around the corner.

After what felt like hours of shuffling through the maze that these hallways became, Obi Wan led you to what you assumed to be a service elevator.

It opened with ease, and you two shuffled into the space without haste.You allowed yourself the release of a deep breath as the doors sealed shut.

"Are you alright?" He turned to you.

"Where are we going to go?" You asked, dismissing his question.

"There should be an exit through the back once we get down to the basement. We'll....we'll take that exit and hope that we don't run into any one else between here and the port" He reported, not sounding too sure of himself but knowing, just as well as you did, that this was the only plan...and it was one you did not prepare for.

You nodded, swallowing your fear simultaneously.

The palms of his hands found their way to your flushed cheeks.

"I won't let anything happen to you" He promised you softly. You believed him. You always believed his promise for protection. He'd protected you at moments you wished not to be protected, "Stay close to me, that is all I ask" He sighed, so fearful of ever failing you as he feels he did with everyone else in his life before the Empire.

"What if they take us?" You trembled, your breath shaking through your words.

"We don't say a word" He stated firmly. His tone did not imply that your capture was impossible, which did not ease your anxieties.

The doors of the service elevator slid open. You both stopped to see or hear any potential danger, but were only met with the roaring of the generator stored down in the basement.

You sought out the waves of the force, pleading for it to guide your way now. In your frustration and panic as you moved through the desolate basement, you felt nothing. Why had it come back to you before, but failed you when you needed it?

The door leading to the stairwell to take you outdoors revealed itself as you both rounded the corner. You sighed deep into relief, but kept yourself alert as you reminded yourself that even once you escaped to the outside, you still had at least a mile's walk ahead of you. A mile that may or may not be littered with stormtroopers.

"I love you" You assured him, holding his gaze as you stood together at the exit, both contemplating what you may face on the other side of it.

"I love you, too" He answered you with a kiss upon your unexpecting lips.

Blinded by the sudden aggression of the outside sun, you held your hand up to instinctively block the rays. Obi Wan followed suit, trying to maximize your senses elsewhere and not allow the daylight to hinder your ability upon escape.

It was unfortunate, this stab in the dark you took together, because you had no idea what the possibility was of being captured. You two had no idea what awaited you once the basement exit door shut tight behind you.

You crouched together as you remained still, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The coast was overwhelmingly and suspiciously clear. They must've focused their energy inside the walls of the hotel, careful to check every room, no matter who they disturbed in the process.

"I think it's clear" You muttered carefully.

"Lets go, then"

Ensuring that the hoods of your cloaks were both up to shield yourself from being recognizable, you moved into plain sight, trying to integrate casually onto the sidewalk. The forest path that led away from the hotel was eerily quiet, which shot chills down your body.

Obi Wan followed behind you, careful to watch you from all sides from this angle. Your protection was now his utmost priority and to consider failing you at ensuring you remained alive was something he knew would destroy him.

No amount of precaution or hesitant connection to the force could've prepared you for the sudden flash of a burning red blade striking in your line of sight, only a mere inches away from your flesh. You gasped, stumbling backwards in the process.

"Little Jedi", The menacing, growling voice chilled the innermost core of your bones. You trembled in your frozen position. Swallowing hard, you remembered what Obi Wan said about keeping quiet, and wondered suddenly, where did he go?

Your impending doom settled into your conscience, and you gave it all your power not to panic at the thought. The golden skinned horned figure waltzed into your sight from the shadows below the awning. You studied his sleek black uniform, careful to observe all your surroundings in this encounter.

The inquisitor studied your frantic expression and smirked in response.

"Are you looking for Master Kenobi?" He asked, using a mockery of tones.

Your persistent silence was a challenge, but you refused to give into his questions.

Where was he? He was just behind you. Was he captured? Had he abandoned you?

No, you thought, he couldn't have.

"Oh" The inquisitor reveled in his realization, "You are his Padawan...aren't you?"

The hateful gaze you held faltered none in his attempt to mock or question you. As your stillness kept you safe from the fiery red saber blade he had resting just below your chin now, he held it in place, pacing slowly in front of you.

"Tell me where he's gone and I'll spare your life, little Jedi”

Even if you wished to save yourself over Obi Wan, you couldn't help the inquisitor. To your knowledge, he should've been right behind you, but he wasn't.

As your internal panic grew more imminent, every pleasant moment of your short life flashed behind the glaze of your eyes while you considered how you'd spend you final moments. Despite the years you'd spent with your family, and friends you'd made throughout your life, every single neuron in your brain landed on a thought of Obi Wan.

In what you assumed to be the last chance to process coherent thoughts, a multitude of precious moments, unbearable tension, intimate eye contact, his protective behavior, and more recently, the rough calloused hands that roamed your body like a familiar map of the galaxy, soared through your mind. If that was the last thing that flashed your memory, you were ready to accept your fate. There was no time to be angry that he was not behind you, not there to protect you.

And more importantly, there was no time to put up a fight. Your eyes trickled shut as you prepared yourself to take your final breath.

The buzzing of his weapon rang rampant into your eardrums which became all you could focus on.

As if by a miracle of the Gods, a familiar ignition, prompting a lost memory, graced your ears.

A small gasp escaped you as your eyes flew open.

Beyond the glow of the red saber that threatened to take your life, an angelic blue glow shined bright behind the inquisitor.

Obi Wan.

He and the force may have had a rocky relationship, but you were unsurprised that he’d never put his blade away, even after all this time.

"If you even continue another morsel of a thought of harming her, I swear to you, I'll make your death more dishonorable than you can imagine”

The relief you felt was only then suddenly replaced with pure fear. So many years had passed since he’d engaged in lightsaber combat.

“Obi Wan Kenobi” The inquisitor flashed a maniacal grin to you, still keeping his violent attention directed at you, “I knew we’d find you”

“Yes, you’ve found me, haven’t you?” Obi Wan mocked, “So let her go”

Obi Wan stepped around the back of the Inquisitor, now standing next to him, his crystal blue blade pointed directly at the menace. The inquisitor's saber remained pointed to you.

“Take one step closer and you’ll be taking her headless corpse with you”

Obi Wan knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“Step away from her. It’s not her you want, right? It’s me. Take me, leave her be” Obi Wan pleaded. He couldn’t fail you now. This may end with you left unprotected, but he knew you could take care of yourself if he was to be captured. Even the mere thought of being separated from you now was torment, but this is the hand you’ve been dealt.

“Why should I?” The inquisitor tilted his head, “I could just take the both of you. Lord Vader would be most pleased. He’s been very interested in finding you”

Time halted as the air was sucked from Obi Wan’s chest.

Vader.

That was not a name he could wipe clean from his memory no matter how hard he tried. The replaying of the holoscan he’d watched with Master Yoda all those years ago…Sidious gave him that name. But it couldn’t be…

“Oh, you didn’t know?” He began, taking great joy in Obi Wan’s silence, “Anakin is alive, Obi Wan”

You sensed his pure anguish crushing his soul in that very moment. He’d told you of Anakin’s downfall, but you’d both believed that he’d died on Mustafar.

“No,” Obi Wan’s voice trembled.

“Yes, you know it is true” The inquisitor confirmed.

You knew of the pain that Anakin’s perceived death had caused Obi Wan. It had pained you, too, when you discovered what you both thought was the truth only a little while ago. You weren’t close to Anakin, you never had the opportunity to be. But you’d grown fond of his company toward the end. He was a kind and noble Jedi…to know of his turn to the dark side was nearly unbelievable.

With Obi Wan’s loss of focus from this new revelation and a saber held beneath your throat, you didn’t know how you were going to get out of there alive. Every window of opportunity was closing slowly, as stormtroopers were likely on their way to the inquisitor's location now.

A shifting noise above you drew your attention suddenly. The Inquisitor heard it, too, but didn’t dare look away from you and Obi Wan. He was about to capture Lord Vader’s most sought after criminals, and he wouldn’t let a small sound upon the awning steal that chance from him.

It’s unfortunate for him, though, he would’ve been wise to check for approaching enemies, because if he had sensed that the distracting sound was a threat, what happened next wouldn’t have been such a shock to him.

A figure leapt from the shadows above, a flash of electrified blue igniting mid-air. Time crawled to a halt as the figure came into your view. His head contrasted the shade of his lightsaber, fiery red hair revealed as the light of day captured his essence.

The inquisitor suddenly redirected his attention, moving to swing his weapon at the man, but fell short on account of unpreparedness. The man landed with a fierce stance, his blade colliding with the Inquisitor’s.

You moved quickly, running in a crouch, finding Obi Wan. You looked back, seeing the two unfamiliar faces both engaged in heavy combat, each contender an equal match for the other.

“Stay behind me, dear” He instructed, motioning for you to move behind him while he remained in a defensive stance with his weapon.

Four storm troopers rounded the corner. You felt defenseless, having not a single item on your being to combat them, not even the force. It was at that moment you cursed yourself for not still being able to utilize that valuable element.

You stayed close behind Obi Wan as he swung his saber to dodge their blasts, effectively reversing the direction of the last shot. The four troopers fell dead in their spots, and Obi Wan searched the perimeter for more.

You turned to see a struggling inquisitor as the Jedi used an unique fighting style, one that he was seemingly inexperienced in defeating. The collision of the blue and red flashed brightly in your eyes. The Jedi struck one final blow, knocking the inquisitor onto his back. The Jedi towered over him.

“Long live the Empi-” The inquisitor's words were cut drastically short when the Jedi plunged his blade through his chest, ripping the breath from his lungs.

“Who is that?” You asked, certain that no one except Obi Wan could hear you.

“I don’t know but I’m certainly happy he got here when he did” He mumbled back to you.

He was a human, not much younger than yourself, and based on his age you were woefully impressed with his skill level.

“I’ve got a ship that’ll get us out of here, but we have to go now” The Jedi began, finally allowing you all to get a good luck at one another.

“How did you find us?” You pondered, weary of trusting him.

“Jedi distress beacon” The Jedi said, promptly leading the way down the forest path, as there was no time for formalities when a whole army of troopers could catch up to you at any second, "We were passing through the system when it rang. It's been so long since It went off, I almost thought your call was a malfunction"

“Not that we aren’t grateful, but we didn’t send one” You noted, following quickly behind him.

“Satja” Obi wan cut in, stopping dead in his tracks, speaking with sorrow and grief.

“What?”

“Satja had a distress beacon”, He began.

"But, why would he have one? Weren't those made only for Jedi?"

“I gave it to him after I…well” He paused again, “that’s a longer story.  But I don't think he was using it for himself. He knew when the Empire marched through the doors of his business that he was dead. He used the beacon because he knew we were still there" Obi Wan realized.

“He saved our life” You whispered to yourself.

“Yes, indeed he did” Obi Wan muttered, “I only wish we could’ve saved his”

"I am sorry about your friend, but we need to hurry. C'mon" The Jedi insisted, encouraging you two to pick up the pace.

As all three of you traveled down the path to the port, you were faced with only a few more troopers, nothing that you all couldn't manage with ease.

There was no time to consider if he was trustworthy. His lightsaber and force wielding abilities were the only evidence of reliability either of you needed right now.

The ship he led you to was a S-161, a luxury line of starships, but it was clear that it had seen its better days. You turned behind you, noticing that a swarm of stormtroopers were running toward the port.

"Hurry!" A woman called from the extended ramp. The ship was already lifting from the ground, the pilot seemingly try to get a head start. The Jedi jumped, using the force to float himself gently onto the ramp. You and Obi Wan were suddenly pulled by the force, both the red-headed man and the woman on the ship outstretching their arms to assist your boarding.

As you fell to the chilled floor, the ramp closed just in time as the troopers began shooting their blasters at the ship. The thumping of your heart inside your chest blared in your ears. The three of you breathed heavily, settling in quickly to the feeling of fleeting safety.

"Is everyone okay?" The woman asked, looking to you and Obi Wan for confirmation.

You both nodded.

"This is Greez" The Jedi gestured to the cockpit where an unamused male Latero sat, "and Cere" He pointed to the woman who helped you aboard, "Welcome to the Mantis"

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Y/N and this is Obi Wa-"

"Obi Wan Kenobi. What an honor to finally meet you" Cere nodded.

"Oh, and I'm Cal. Cal Kestis. It's nice to meet you both"

Your body jolted forward as the Mantis launched into hyperspace.

CAL KESTIS HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING BABES!!! If we don’t get this in the show, at least I was able to write it for y’all :)

Tagged: @simplysolo @captaincarmel164 @hotchslatte @marygoddessofmischief @notmyideia @meshlasolus@ceruleanrainblues @shylittlefoxx @infinity-witch @star-whores-a-new-hoe @howellatme,@superavengerpotter, @multi-fandom-s, @generalkenobi-4-senate, @sebschicken, @hypnoash, @modernmythic, @bellarkeselection, @molieux, @siidereeus, @morganas-pendragons, @scoobywoos, @ivycoveredstone, @djarinvibe @alorika @theonethatlikeskpop, @lalalalemonade11, @ella-error505, @hofficoffi, @tamtam-go92, @mclemontine, @vibeyhatdawg, @hugmekenobi, @sofiaconlaz, @dont-feel-so-good-peter, @grazieschillivera, @impala1967666 , @punkrogers-jerkbarnes

If I missed anyone or you would like to be removed, please let me know :)

Part six

[anemonelovesfiction]

Colors of Pandora 7: Pink

Jake x Fem! Omatikaya Reader

Emotion: Romance

Warnings ⚠️: none SAFE FOR WORK

Essentially a part two to this work

Last day of Colors of Pandora and I’m sad but also happy?!

A huge thank you to @xylianasblog for having come up with this event in the first place, thank you for your hard work darling❤️

Translation Station

Ikran: Warriors Mount

Olo’eyktan: Male Clan Leader

Kelku: Home

Word count: 1.4k

“Why do you feel the need to take care of others?” His voice was a soft timber breaking through the silence of the early morning.

I’d managed to wake up and just as he promised the night before we had to talk, but we’d decided on taking our ikran out toward the forest to speak privately, climbing the tree we were currently on being careful with my arm to ensure I didn’t damage it any further. The view we were seeing involved a lot of the forest, but it was too vast for us to be able to see a majority of it, but the bits we could see were beautiful.

The sun was rising from between the mountains and sky, the orange, red, and pink hues capturing its essence in a wonderful way. My heart beating slightly faster after having processed his question as I realized I’d have to finally open up about my past to the leader of our clan.

“It helps me forget about the war,” I answered honestly, attempting to take in a breath to explain further if needed, knowing I would have to as my answer was somewhat vague.

“Who did you lose?” It was a simple question really, but it was one that brought slight pain, the pain of having to remember the reason I often buried myself in my work.

“Both my parents.” I answered as I lowered my head to view my fingers starting to pick at one another, something I often did when I was growing nervous.

“I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you.” He apologizes but it doesn’t change the past. We knew what he had done after he had explained once he came back from mating with Neytiri, a lot of us were upset with him, but I always kind of knew he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having to follow orders just to keep his place here, it wasn’t hard to read him, and I could tell he was honest with his apology, but our people were quick to anger and it didn’t matter to them how sorry he was. And now he was our leader, how strange, the great mother must have plans for him if he was still alive, and holding a place of importance within us.

“I have forgiven you a long time ago.” I answered honestly, letting my shoulders fall as I pick my head back up to stare at the beautiful view before me, the sun still rising slowly above the sky.

“I guess your compassion runs deep,” He jokes with a smile and his comment makes me smile as well.

_________

That had been weeks ago, my arm had healed and had been allowed out of the cast, which I had been thankful for. My friendship with my Olo’eyktan had grown into something wonderful and I could finally say I had made my first friend.

“I have a question for you,” He walks up towards me right as I began to walk the opposite direction.

“You always have questions for me, Jake.” I stated as I continued walking, he’d asked me to instruct him as such and I was always one to follow orders, he followed behind me as I continued walking to grab my bow and arrow, ready to head out to hunt for Sepwa and Antuk once more. Sepwa had fallen ill and needed help with taking care of her children while Antuk had gotten injured while hunting and managed to injure his leg.

“I want to show you something.” He stated as his hand reaches out toward my arm, stopping me in my tracks as I felt the warmth leaving his palm and encasing my entire body, I fight a blush as I turn to face him with a serious look.

“That is not a question.” I stated and he rolls his eyes playfully, a smile tugging at his lips as he fights a laugh before straightening himself up, taking his hand off my arm, and I honestly missed the contact.

“Will you come with me?” He asks.

“I need to hunt for Sepwa and Antuk-“ I began to shoot his invitation down, knowing I didn’t want to, but knowing I had a sense of responsibility for my people.

“I’ve taken care of them already, I knew you were going out of your way again, so I was one step ahead of you the entire time,” He crosses his arms in a cocky manner, but all I could focus on were his bulging biceps, I only look up at his face with a blank expression to attempt to hide my own feelings as my heart rate quickens.

“And you have taken care of who will watch their children this morning before they go learn?” I raised a brow while crossing my own arms.

“Of course I did. Do you honestly think so little of me?” He asks with a palm on his chest while feigning hurt.

“Yes I do,” I teases with a smile on my lips before breaking out into a small laugh with his chuckle following soon after.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked after our laughter was out of the way, wondering where he planned to take me now, he had taken the last couple of weeks to show me the forest through his eyes, often choosing good places to calm down after a long and hard day of work, but surely he had to run out of places by now, the forest was only so big.

“Just wait and see,” He offers his hand out to me with a slight nod of his head and I take it without hesitation.

_________

I had been nervous to say the least, I hadn’t expected to have grown feelings for someone so quickly after meeting them, but there was something about her that made my heart flutter alive after a while of it being in a dormant state. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about her, but she made me feel alive again, made me feel as though I could start living once more.

“What is this place?” She asks in awe as she hops off of my Ikran, taking a careful glance around the cave that glowed with bioluminescent plants, the opening of the cave having a waterfall covering half of it, keeping this place well hidden from anyone.

“This is the place I come to when I have a tough decision to make.” I answered honestly only to have her turn with a confused look on her face.

“And what tough decision has this Olo’eyktan had to make recently?” She raises a hairless brow and I had to admit my heart was beating faster than it ever has within the last couple of years.

“You,” I stated honestly before clearing my throat and looking away quickly before looking back at her.

“What do you mean, me?” She asks as she tilts her head sideways and her ears flick over to place her full attention on me.

“I have grown to have feelings for you, and I wish to court you, but I only want to do that if you return my feelings. I don’t want you to agree to doing it if you don’t see a future with me.” I stated sternly, expecting her to have weighed her options before answering, I was about to tell her she could have some time to think about it before she gleefully runs up to me and embraces me in a hug, a squeal leaving her lips as she jumps up and down excitedly.

“Yes, the answer is yes, I don’t need time to think, I feel the same.” She answered quickly and I could feel my heart ready to burst at her reaction.

“Honest?” I asked as if I were about to wake up in my kelku to realize that it had only been a dream.

“I promise,” She smiles as her tail wriggles from side to side in an excited fashion.

“Good, because I’ve been waiting long enough to do this,”

I place my hand onto the side of her face to hold it gently, her eyes widening slightly as she stares at me, ears having gone down to show submission and I smile before leaning my face down to meet our lips in the middle, having closed my eyes to enjoy our kiss, and feeling her arms wrap around my neck loosely as she kisses me back.