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#at least he can make something to calm it
gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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Could I request the Batboys with an s/o who has unexpected/unsuspecting strength? Like the batboys try to hug their partner from behind but the s/o has been a little jumpy lately so they panic and accidentally end up throwing them? But instead of being angry at their s/o, the batboys are relieved bc they know that their love can protect themself?
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Dick
Managed to put his skills to good use as he landed soundly on his hands in a perfect handstand with perfect form, before stopping his charade and went back to standing on his own two feet.
‘Oh my goodness dick are you okay?’ You asked, scared that you might’ve accidentally hurt him with that throw.
Dick smiled as he did some basic stretches to show you that he was fine and not in any pain. ‘I’m fit as a fiddle my love, nice throw you could’ve knocked someone out with a throw like that.’ He says casually as you could only rub your temples to ease the oncoming headache.
‘That’s not exactly reassuring..’ you trial off.
‘In a city like Gotham, it’s the reassurance you need to keep safe.’ Dick replied seriously now as he moved towards you and brought you into his arms, ‘it lets me know that you’ll be fine without me with reflexes that fast.’ He adds as he presses kisses into the top of your head, face and shoulders.
‘I’ve lived here long enough to know how to protect myself Dick, you don’t need to worry.’ You reassure him but the worry upon his face didn’t go away as he buried it deep into the side of your neck.
‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep sweetheart, those streets only get more and more dangerous by the day and I’d be damned if I let you go out there without knowing you’ll be completely safe.’ Dick replies as he peppered your neck in kisses, tightening his hold on you as he does to ingrate you into his very being. ‘So please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you in the end, please.’
You smiled softly as you’d rubbed his back soothingly, kissing his shoulders and parts of his neck that you could reach in hopes of calming his heart and soul. ‘I won’t, you tend to do that sort of thing for a living.’ You joked and dick pinched your side, causing you to yelp.
‘I mean it.’ Dick pulled away from your neck to cup your face in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours. ‘I don’t want to loose you to something so easily preventable.’
‘And you won’t.’ You tell him as you rested your hands atop of his own, rubbing your nose against his. ‘I’ll be extra carful and will throw anyone that looks at me with bad intent.’ You promised him, stealing a kiss from his lips as an extra measure.
‘Good, but I think I should at least help you with some basic defence just to be certain!’ Dick said and you couldn’t help but listen to him intently, it was the least you could do to help him feel confident in your abilities to keeping yourself safe.
Damian
Lands on his feet like an agile cat.
‘Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Damian I don’t know what came over me-‘
Damian holds up his hand. ‘No need to apologise, consider this a test for when I can’t be near to keep you safe my treasure.’
You furrow your brows. ‘A test? So you weren’t just trying to hug me from behind just now?’
Damian flushed. ‘Nonsense. A hug is beneath me.’ He splutters.
You smiled as you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Are you sure?’ You asked as you watched Damian attempt to glare at you, but it only ends up looking like a really cute pout.
‘Certain.’ He says but he knows you don’t believe it.
‘Then I guess you don’t want forehead kisses or hand holding anymore either since it’s all beneath you.’ You taunt as you begin to walk away from him.
‘Do not show me your back my treasure or I’ll-‘
‘End up being thrown across the room again?’ You inquired as you looked over your shoulder at him, smiling. ‘I can hold my own against you my dear Dami so I would act with caution.’ You added teasingly as Damian couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you were going to be okay but just to be safe he was more then willing to teach you basic defence as a precaution, after all he can’t have you getting too cocky on him now.
‘I would very much like to test that theory my darling in a sparing match.’ Damian proposed and you stiffened, even if he was going to go easy on you that don’t mean you won’t walk out with bruising and a lesson in not getting cocky with a trained assassin since basically birth.
Jason
Deeply relived at the fact that you could toss someone of his size across the room like it’s nothing.
He didn’t even care that his back might be a little bruised, he’s been dealt worse but he’s smiling widely at you as you stare at him as though he’s got two heads.
‘You’ve got quite the throw on your sweetheart.’
‘You’re smiling, I could’ve seriously hurt you Jason Todd and you’re smiling!’ You scolded as you made your way over to him to check up on him, only for him to wave you off.
‘It’s fine, it’ll heal in due time but seriously are you sure you’re not a meta human or?’ Jason trails off as he feels a weight lift off of his shoulders, content and happy knowing that you could keep yourself safe from harm but that isn’t going to stop him from checking up on you now and then as red hood.
It was one thing to be strong, it’s another to be smart and cautious of your opponent.
‘Just someone with stupidly abnormal strength.’ You tell him as you held him by the biceps. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Jason chuckled as he kissed your forehead, from your nose and quickly on the mouth. ‘Of course I am! I’m just glad that you can keep yourself safe when I can’t be nearby to do so myself, I’m really, really happy as I wouldn’t even let you out on those streets with how dangerous it’s become lately.’
‘And I want to keep you here with me to keep you off of the streets, from getting hurt because of the same thing.’ You retorted as you kissed his cheeks and nose softly. ‘I don’t care if you’re trained for this or not, I will still worry for your well being Jason.’ You add as Jason pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as his warmth encompasses you in a protective manner.
‘Now you know how I feel chipmunk.’ Jason murmured, ‘even though you’ve got strength on your side and can knock a fucker out of they overstep a boundary,’ you couldn’t help but chuckle at that as Jason smiled at the sound of you chuckling, it warmed his heart like no other could, ‘I’m still going to train you up on other aspects just to be certain and besides there’s nothing wrong with have a few good tricks up your sleeve.’ He adds.
You nuzzled yourself further into his chest, closing your eyes as you focused on his breathing’s his warmth and his heartbeat, any and all signs that he was very much alive and well. ‘If it makes you happy.’
‘It will.’ Jason replied.
‘Then I’ll make sure not to ogle you when you’re deep in concentration, it’s an attractive look on you.’ You said lightheartedly as Jason chuckled, holding you tighter to his chest as he replied, ‘then I’ll make sure to be extra deep in concentration, just for you.’ You lightly swat his biceps as he bursts out laughing.
You’ll be a okay…that and Jason thinks he’s got a bruise forming on his bicep from the playful hit.
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sugurouge · 15 hours
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— can you try me? nanami kento x f!reader
summary: after a rough day, there's only one solution to kento's pent up frustrations
content warnings! smut, pet names (little devil, perfect / good girl), dirty talk, reader gets carried around and manhandled, wall sex, teasing, size difference, praise, one or two spanks
wordcount: 3.2k
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Days like these are the worst, Nanami thinks once he closes the door to your apartment and allows himself a moment of breather. He can already hear your favourite creator talking in the living room, the sound of the TV mixing with your clueless giggles to leave no room for Kento’s tired sounds to arrive in the next room.
The best course of action is to shed himself off his belongings and make his way over to the kitchen. The ghost of his tall figure dances in your peripheral vision, luring you in to immediately get up to follow your grumpy-cat of a boyfriend towards his desired destination—the stash of treats hidden in one of the kitchen cabinets.
“Oh, oh, somebody had a rough day…” you conclude upon his silent search for something sweet. He can’t help but feel caught red-handed. So Nanami only leans back for his head to pop up behind the door, tired eyes swiftly roaming over your figure before his attention gets redirected towards the treasures inside your cabinet. “Yeah,” is his quiet reply, and the crinkle of wrapping paper follows suit.
You won’t even attempt to hide your chuckle upon his little pick-me-up ritual, you’re too used to him being a softie by now. “What about having proper dinner instead of sweets, Kento?” you propose while you stalk over to him and wrap your arms around his waist as you place a chaste kiss on his back.
He cringes at the drawl of his name, well aware of how counterproductive and immature his cravings for sweets as comfort are, yet plops another chocolate in his mouth. “Maybe later.”
How a man his height frees himself that quickly from your hug always leaves you dumbfounded, but you let him play his game of hard to get. “Well, anyway… I’m going to continue watching that travel series, feel free to join me,” you tease, knowing exactly that he can’t resist the temptation.
But at least you give him some time and space as you’re sat on the couch. Nanami continuously fiddles with the wrapping paper of his recent chocolate while his attention lingers on the screen, eyes glued to the TV and the heavenly beach scenery. He definitely needs to book a vacation with you soon.
You close the gap between your bodies over the course of the night, slowly shuffling towards his figure as you adjust your sitting position. From leaning against the arm of the couch to sitting cross-legged and finally, carefully, your fingertips brush over his hand once you lean your head against his shoulder. You feel a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head and smile to yourself, hiding your face behind the firm muscles of his biceps. “Meanie,” you mumble, and your eyes peek up to his face.
Nanami’s head is already turned towards you, a certain gentleness lingers in his eyes that are illuminated by the TV screen as they meet your curious gaze. “Come here,” is his demand while his hand already holds the back of your knee, to swiftly pull you on his lap to straddle him.
Your arms find rest around his neck to allow yourself to bask in his scent, the lingering fragrance of his body wash calming you down as you place soft kisses on his cheek. The gentle pressure applied on his neck by your fingers tempts Nanami to close his eyes, his arms moving to rest around your waist, pulling you in for a close hug. “Wanna talk about it?” you question with a soft voice. The use of your fingernails on his scalp sends shivers running along Kento’s spine.
“No…” Nanami starts but interrupts himself with another sigh, “maybe later. I don't want to burden you with troubles you cannot help me with.” You gently cup his face and redirect his gaze to meet yours, hoping for him to notice the love pooling in your tender gaze. “You’re the best,” the words are whispered against his lips, yet you don’t fully close the distance to let him decide the course of the evening.
Don't play games with him tonight.
You feel his fingertips dance upward your spine to cradle the back of your head and let his lips crash with yours. He’s so greedy, so needy for love, you can tell by the way he prolongs the kiss until he nearly runs out of breath.
And despite enjoying these types of kisses more than anything, you break away. A slightly annoyed groan slips past his lips while his arms return to lay around your waist as his forehead rests against your shoulder. Once this man gets a taste, he turns greedy; you’ve learned that this not only applies to sweets—but to you as well.
So he tries once more. Kissing you once more; ever so gently while thumbing your cheek. Nanami’s soft lips mould against yours as your tongues meet between parted lips at such an awfully slow pace, he can practically feel you grow needy in his hold. His teeth nibble on your lower lip, tugging on the sensitive flesh before pulling on the soft flesh. Tender eyes immediately meet yours, lust hidden in both pairs as you stare at each other. “I missed you a lot today,” Nanami murmurs, while featherlight touches explore your sensitive body. His kisses roam along your neck and the burning trail of his fingertips flows along your calves and thighs.
“I missed you too,” you exhale, craning your neck for him as your eyes fall shut, fully basking in the he addictive feel of his touch ruling over your body and mind.
The whispered demand of “tell me what you want,” sends goosebumps to spread over your skin. Long fingers pull the straps of your top and bra off your shoulder, allowing Nanami’s lips to fully explore your collarbone and litter kisses along your body like you’re his favourite candy. The rough pads of his tongue wet your skin as he licks over the irritated areas where he previously sucked.
“Is it—, is it weird if I just… just want you to use me tonight?” Nanami curses beneath his breath, and you feel his grip on your body tighten, blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he hums in reply, head dipping lower until his bangs tickle your collarbone.
His kisses lead to your chest, where he tugs at the hem of your top to further expose your breasts. “You wear so much… how do you expect me to spoil you like this?” he complains with a trace of irritation in his voice. His hands dip beneath the hem of your top and tease your skin. “Be good for me and take it off.”
Yet his patience seemingly runs thin as he already lifts the fabric to expose your figure, carelessly throwing the top over his shoulder as his lips immediately attach to your chest once more. Sloppy kisses cover your skin until he arrives at your breasts, his hands gently squeezing your soft mounds above your bra—desiring to hear your moans for him as his teeth graze the sensitive skin.
With his warm palm pressed flat against your back, he shares warmth and strength with you as you lean back further, allowing his kisses to cover your sternum. “Kento,” you practically mewl his name, your fingers tugging at his roots as your hips roll against his, seeking friction where you need him most. “Kento, please…”
Nanami pulls back almost immediately, the tip of his nose following the path his lips created on your skin until his mouth meets yours. “Patience is a virtue,” the words nothing but a husky murmur. But your fingers know better than to hold still, already palming his biceps and shoulders. You brush your nose against his, the plea in your eyes clear as day as you drive him towards madness. “Want to feel you inside me... Can’t be patient if all I want is right in front of me, Kento—,” a surprised yelp interrupts your words as he simply hoists you up.
The sheer strength behind his actions makes you jump in his hold and your arms fly around his neck to stabilise yourself. Nanami simply chuckles right next to your ear, teeth nibbling at the flesh. “Not so cheeky anymore,” his hands guide your legs around his waist, carrying you out of the living room to make his way to your bedroom.
If it wasn’t for the little demon inside you, convincing you to already move your hips against his, moaning sweetly just for him. You break one of his rules by marking his neck, lips attaching to his perfect skin and sucking a deep patch of red, which causes him to hiss and land a spank to your ass, quickly followed by a particularly painful pinch.
You won't even attempt to hide your amusement, giggling so innocently while further pushing yourself against his body until your back meets the cold wall of your hallway and Nanami forces you to look at him, grip on your hair strong as his face hovers above yours.
You simply stare at him, challenging him for actions. Nanami’s expression seems calculated as his eyes roam over your face until they lock on your lips—which widen into your cheekiest grin. “Kento~,” is your sinfully innocent sigh of his name. You arch your back and place one hand on the nape of his neck, pulling his face towards your breasts while you unclasp your bra with your free hand.
“Little devil,” he mumbles, but complies as he takes one nipple between his lips, letting the tip of his tongue swirl around the nub as his teeth play with your sensitivity.
Your hips grind against his clothed erection, slow and teasing, to have him grunt and seek further pressure. “Sometimes…” he breathes, but pauses to clear his thoughts. “Sometimes…?” you repeat. The audacity to chuckle over his struggles annoys Nanami further as his icy glare meets your twinkling eyes. “Sometimes I could simply—,” Nanami leans closer, exhaling a breath over your ear that makes your eyes fall heavy. “Simply fuck you until you beg me to be nice again. But you want that, don’t you?” Your nod follows before he even finishes his words, and you turn your head for your lips to brush against each other once more—greedily pulling him down to kiss him again.
Your moans meet between your parted lips, mouths hungrily moving against each other as flimsy fingers rake over his clothed chest. The desperate whine from your lips upon not being able to directly feel his muscles beneath your touch is almost too cute.
Your feet reach the floor once your lips part, leaving you awfully aware of your usual size difference as you gaze up at him. 
Nanami follows your request in a heartbreak, unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing the fabric carelessly aside, so unlike his usual prim and proper behaviour. You really bring out the worst in him. 
Your shameless gaze tracks every little crevice on his built figure as you subconsciously wet your lips. “Greedy,” he mumbles, yet he knows he isn’t much better, as his fingers already run along your hips and dip beneath the fabric of your shorts and panties until they fall to the floor. 
You stand on your toes as you search for his lips, one hand tracing over the shape of his erection beneath his pants before finally freeing him from his restraints. His cock rests heavy in the palm of your hand, but the satisfaction your smaller hand offers him is worth millions. Nanami’s hands rest against the wall behind you, his head lolling forward until his erratic pants fan over your skin.  “And so, so impatient,” you complete his previously started sentence as you pull back. 
The moment you bring your fingertips to your lips, your eyes meet his, to ensure Kento witnesses your tongue cleaning off his pre-cum from your hand. You love to make his composure falter. 
He exhales a shaky curse before you see his jaw tighten, brows creasing in frustration, or confusion(?). “How—, why do I still want to ruin you even when I’m in a bad mood...” His quiet confession draws your bottom lip between your teeth, it makes you clench around nothing as desire starts to overflow inside you—a selfish part of you loves his sour mood. The slow kisses you plant along his chest only make it harder for him now. Nanami’s hands land on your waist and pull you close against him, his subtle moans meeting your ear right away. “Then do it,” you mumble as your hand returns to move along his shaft. 
Yet you don’t expect his fingertips to immediately dig into your ass and lift you once more. You squeak as your hands grip onto his shoulders, searching for some sort of stabilisation. Nanami presses your back against the wall, his chest cages your body between the hard wall and his muscular frame, with the tip of his cock prodding against your entrance. Yet he refuses to lower your body in his hold. 
“Do what?” he asks, seemingly clueless, while the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He can see the answer clearly in your eyes, but it's just so much more satisfying to hear it coming from your lips. “Ruin me.” You demand with a gentle whisper. It rewards you with a rare smile to soften his stern features, while Nanami steadily lowers your position, allowing you to feel each drag of him inside your walls—despite the almost embarrassingly easy entrance thanks to your arousal. 
Nanami presses your back against the wall as he straightens himself to stand at full size. Your limited mobility leaves him in full control, his cock slowly thrusting inside you until he feels you adjust to his girth. Your hands wander over his body, appreciating his broad shoulders or tugging on his hair as his movements gain strength. You moan his name in return, arms snaking around his neck for support as he keeps pressing you against the wall while his cock drags along your clenching walls. 
The desperation of your walls trying to keep him inside seems utterly amusing as a rare tease slips past his lips right into your ear: “Greedy, always so greedy.” 
He moans lowly and leans his forehead on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting—bouncing your body up with each push inside you with ease. His hands squeeze your hips, further controlling your movements when he creates some space between your body and the wall. 
Your eyes widen in shock—the fear of falling makes you involuntarily clench harder. “Afraid I can’t manage to hold my woman?” Nanami feels challenged, the struggle in his voice clear as you refuse to loosen up around his shaft. Until only your shoulders rest against the wall and his gentle grip helps you grind against his pelvis. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips subconsciously applying further pressure until the delicious friction of his cock has your thighs twitching against his hips. 
Your moans meet between your bodies as you slowly circle your hips, grinding against his pubic bone as you feel your orgasm approaching. Nanami busies himself by dousing your chest and stomach with deep kisses, holding still to the best of his ability despite the need to simply thrust into you. 
“You feel so good,” he murmurs. Groans escape him as his hips stutter against you, his cock throbbing inside you and twitching in utter despair. Your legs jerk at his actions, your back arching just a bit more as another moan falls from your parted lips. 
You lure his eyes to open again with a seductive drawl of his name, forcing him to witness your hands roaming over your body; along your chest as your fingertips redraw the round of your breasts before you cup them. Gently fondling them in front of him and playing with your nipples, you don’t even try to hide your deep moans. 
Nanami clenches his jaw, biting back his groan as you pulse around him so perfectly. How badly he wants to play with your breasts. 
He returns to fully press your back into the stone, his hips leaving no room as he grinds up into you, stimulating your clit once more. You paw at his chest and shoulders, your head leaning back as you gasp for air. The way he holds you open and simply thrusts into you is erratic. 
You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and he feels your nails scratching his back, leaving careless marks like he was your personal scratching post. “So close,” you promise, biting your bottom lip as a smug little smirk decorates his handsome features. “Good girl, such a perfect girl.” 
Yet even the strongest man gets overtaken by exhaustion eventually. And spoiling you with his deep thrusts and his kisses, moans and groans can get tiring.
You kiss him almost frantically, your back lifting off the wall as you fully cling onto Nanami. Overwhelmed with your need, he topples a few steps back. Luckily, he is a man of quick solutions—opting to get down on his knees and place you on the carpet of the hallway. His hands grip your thighs and press you against him as he ruthlessly snaps his hips against you, his cock hitting just the right spots. 
The mess you’ve turned him into is the prettiest version of Kento you’ll ever see, sweat dripping down along his temples and over his chest—highlighting his lean and strong build as his brows furrowed in deep desperation. 
Strangled moans and harsh pants come from his lungs as he makes you cream all over him. Your fingers nearly claw at his wrist thanks to the perfect pressure applied by his thumb on your clit as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The countless moans of “Kento” and “so good” sound like music to his ears, he never thought he’d be a man who could listen to a song on repeat.
Once he finally allows himself to let go, he blankets your smaller figure with his frame. Nanami’s hips maintain a shallow pace, spreading his cum inside your deeply stimulated cunt while he touches your figure with tender care until his arms reach around your back to hoist you up into his lap. 
Your body feels almost limp from your orgasm, making it awfully alluring to allow yourself to lean into his chest and close your eyes. Nanami’s fingers brush your hair out of your face, the thrumming of his heart hammering against his ribcage quite clear for you to witness as he holds you closer against him. 
“Are you okay?” both of you ask at the same time, to which he offers a rare chuckle as he shakes his head. “Let me clean you up, yes?” A simple hum is all your tired reply consists of, simply letting him carry you to your bathroom. 
You could already pass out once the soft cloth stops teasing your sensitive body parts—if it weren’t for the curious fingers touching your figure while water begins to surround both of you. 
Actually, days like these are the best, Nanami concludes, as long as you’re there.
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dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/strangergraphics
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 days
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deep breath in, deep breath out.
your eyelashes flutter, your eyes move around under your eyelids.
your chest expands, then drops again.
and repeat.
tomura wonders when the last time he’s been this close to somehow before was.
he also wonders how long you’ll let him do this.
tomura shigaraki has, what you call, the nasty habit of being a night owl. it usually wouldn’t be that much of an issue if all he did wasn’t just playing some pc game until ungodly hours of the morning. tomura was awake when you went to sleep and was awake when you woke up too.
he’s unfortunately so very stubborn, so he always insists that he’s not tired at all and that he could at the very least just get a nap in later.
but he was also very picky and sensitive, he didn’t like napping on the couch because he couldn’t find the right way to position his neck, or the light of the outside world would prevent sleep from consuming him, and he moves around a lot so he can never get comfortable and then he gets moody and bitchy and annoying and everyone is just trying to piss him off today. you’ve seen him almost lose his mind because on one of those days he’d gotten his shirt stuck on the door handle. and you don’t want to see that again.
the reason he’d be up so late was because of his insane competitiveness, it only took one nasty comment picked up through his headphones to send him spiraling, just having to prove to the world and the people behind his computer screen he was better than them.
you’d been able to find a sort of compromise lately. because sometimes he woke you up raging and you did not want the both of you to end up moody and bitchy in the morning. so you somehow convinced him to get into less violent games, sandboxes and such. right now it seemed he was really into puzzle games.
and it started working out well for you. it was a good plan, tomura could give you that. the soundtracks in the games he played usually managed to calm him some, and actually start to make his eyes droop and the urge to sleep started to seep in.
but sleep never came.
he managed to finish some games at an okay-ish hour. some he’d just leave for tomorrow if he got bored, and he go try to lay down with you and close his eyes. but he just couldn’t sleep.
thought it shouldn’t be all that surprising, now that he thinks back on it. he’d probably completely fucked up what was even remotely left of a sleep schedule. completely fucked it over in the ass and chucked it off a cliff.
now he’s irritated, tired and so bored.
until he realized something.
you drool in your sleep.
it’s something he wouldn’t have realized if he were at his pc, nor if he’d fallen asleep earlier. he thinks about that for a minute, then focuses back on you. he reaches forward and wipes at the small trail with a single finger, careful not to wake you.
you’d probably call him gross for it, but he doesn’t care. you should thank him for saving you the embarrassment of waking up with a pool of drool on your pillow.
and so, tomura developed another nasty little habit.
whenever he was unable to sleep, which was 98% of the time, he’d just watch you do it. as cheesy as it sounded he always gets this weird feeling whenever he does, like he’d slept too. it felt like he was sleeping with you in a weird, weird way.
and he could admit you were interesting to watch. you weren’t doing anything interesting , but he thinks a sick, twisted part of him enjoyed seeing you so vulnerable, so unaware of the eyes on you, so clueless once you wake up and you have no idea that you make noises and chew while you sleep.
another part of him wonders what is is you dream about. it watches and analyze how your breaths pick up and relax again, how you shuffle or snuggle more into your blanket and pillows.
it wonders if you ever dream about him, but that he’ll never admit, because that was pathetic.
another part of him thinks you just look cute while you sleep. the way he can catch your eyebrow twitch occasionally if he pays extra close attention, and one time he even heard what sounded like a mumble of his name on your lips. and it felt rewarding. would you do it again if he kept doing this ?
he wonders what you’ll do if you woke up to see him doing this. would you be scared ? embarrassed ? angry ? disgusted ? would you hate him ? you’d have to see how much of a creep he was then, wouldn’t you ?
or maybe you’d laugh, maybe you’d jokingly call him a freak for watching you sleep, maybe you’d somehow make him feel embarrassed about it in that weird way you do.
he likes not to think about that much though. not because it was completely unrealistic, but because it wasn’t completely off the table either, and that just made him feel sick. guilty.
for now, he’ll just keep watching you. if you complain about him being moody then you’ll just have to deal with this. you’ll snuggle into him when you find him in bed with you, conveniently already awake because he was such an early riser. you’d kiss his cheek first thing in the morning and smile lazily at him “how’d you sleep ?” you’ll ask.
“good.” he’ll reply.
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musiccutiepatooty · 2 days
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Logan Howlett Love Languages
Here's my thoughts on the love languages in regards to Logan
Word Count: 1.5k
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I am a firm believer that every love language is given and received in some capacity in relationships. With Logan it is absolutely no different. In order form least to greatest, in my opinion, Logan's love languages are: gift giving, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and physical touch.
Gift giving:
I believe that Logan loves to receives gifts from you… eventually. When you first gave him a gift (before you all had started dating) he was very hesitant to accept it. You were being nice to him and that usually ended poorly for the people being nice to him. He just told you to keep it and left you standing in your tracks. He was surprised to later find a bag sitting on his doorstep. He begrudgingly took the gift inside, but didn’t open it for a couple of days. When he finally opened the gift bag, it revealed a small key chain with an 'L' on it. You had seen him in the hall with two keys in his hand. Both of them were separate from each other.
When you saw him pull out his mail key then shove it back into his pocket in favor of his house key you stopped. "How do you keep track of them? It two separate keys."
"It's just two keys," he said quizzically. The look you gave him was blank for a second and then you shook your head, going into your house with a small smile.
When he saw the key chain and remembered the front porch interaction, he felt a pang of endearment in his chest.
Words of affirmation:
It was going to be a rough day for Logan. He woke up with the voices in his head being stronger than his ability to ignore them. All of his failures were on the forefront of him mind and he had only been awake for ten minutes.
You rolled toward him, stretching your arm around his midsection and kissing the back of his shoulder. He felt you murmur something against his back but it didn’t register. "What'd ya say, baby?"
"I said 'how's my beautifully incredible husband doing this morning?'" This caused a small smile to form on Logan's lips and his brain to be turn down a notch.
Throughout the day, it was like you knew that he was in his head. You were showering his with verbal praise.  "You're treat me so well, honey." "I'm so lucky to have you." "You're such a good friend." It was helping hush his thoughts.
The one that silenced his brain completely came when y'all were sitting on your couch, you reading a book with your feet in Logan's lap and him watching tv absentmindedly stroking your legs. You gently tapped him with your foot until he was looking at you. He was met with your smiling face as when he turned his head. "You know you're doing really well and I'm proud of you."
He stared at you long after you went back to reading your book. When he has a hard day, hearing you just be kind to him calms him down. And the fact that you love him despite his flaws lets him know your words are true.
Quality time:
Once he got past the "I'm not good for you. Stay away from me" mindset, I firmly believe that Logan will make any excuse just to be around you. And I mean like you're taking a shower and he's in there. Not in the shower. He is just sitting on the toilet so that he can talk to you.
The knock on the door wasn't heard over your music until it got a little bit more persistent. You gave a quick "yes" to come in and he gingerly peeks his head in the door, "can I come in?" you pop your head around the edge of the shower curtain and gave a small smile and nod. "Come on in, baby."
You expected Logan to start taking articles of clothing off and join you in the shower, so it was a surprise when he lowered the toilet lid and sat down on it, "You're not getting in?" You cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I already showered this morning. And you're shaving your legs I know you need some room for that," he leaned back against the toilet and spread his legs out. "Just wanted to talk to you."
You closed the shower curtain and chuckled as Logan began to rattle off questions to you.
...
He is also a sucker for sitting beside you doing nothing. You can both be doing your own thing and he can enjoy just being in your presence. Like you're both sitting with the TV on, a show that you and Logan have started together but never seem to pay attention to, and you've both ended up scrolling on your phones. You remove your feet from Logan's lap and make a move to stand up, making him perk up. "Where ya going?"
"Just going to pee and then getting a snack." you stood fully and kissed his head. "Do you want something?"
"Just for you to make it quick," He settled back into the couch, looking up at you, satisfied that you wouldn't be gone long, "wouldn't want you to miss too much of the show."
"If I didn't know any better, it seems like you're gonna miss me." "You could say that."
Acts of service:
Logan's boss had been on him about production. You had been working 15 hour days. You listened to his spiel at breakfast and he listened to yours. After breakfast you handed Logan his lunch box. You mentioned you were able to come home early today and would be crashing as you had to prepare for another early morning the next day. He promised he'd be quiet when he got home and gave you a kiss as you both headed out of the door.
As promised, he was damn near silent when he entered your home. The first thing he noticed was that every light was off aside from the one above the stove and the light in your shared bedroom. The light above the stove illuminated a lidded pot. Opening the lid, his favorite entrée was revealed. Initially he was thankful for the meal because he was starving, even after his huge lunch that you so graciously packed for him. (I swear this man has a huge appetite). His gratefulness was increased ten fold when he remembered that you were not a fan of his favorite dish, though you made it so well.
On the lid in his hands, he noticed a post-it note: 'Sides are in the oven. You don’t have to produce anything tonight. ♥"
Even dead tired you still took the time to make him a meal that you knew he would enjoy. Logan felt his shoulders relax and his heart warm.
Physical touch:
Sounds cliché but he has had so much violence in his life that when it comes to your gentle hands… Lord does he just melt. From scratching his scalp while you guys are lying down to you wrapping your arm around his while you're walking to placing your head on his shoulder while you're sitting and watching tv.
Logan had explained to you that he was a mutant, the Wolverine, and that he had claws. He gave you the whole rundown of Stryker's experiments and how that gave his claws and skeleton a metal coating. He told you all about his war escapades and his time with the X-Men. At the end of his speech, he revealed his claws.
You were silent for a moment and looked at his hands. You held out your hand and looked at Logan, asking for permission to touch him. He gave a small nod and you raised your hands to his, dragging your fingertips along the topside of the claws. You poked the end gently, like an idiot, and felt the sharp sting. Logan just looked at you and cocked his eyebrow with a 'really?' expression. You placed your finger in your mouth to collect the blood droplet.
You nodded for a moment and then your eyebrows shot up, "Is that why you're so fucking heavy when you lay on me?!"
All Logan could do was chuckle as he retracted his claws and kiss you. But he noticed from that point forward, you made extra efforts to touch and hold his hands.
When you are sitting and watching TV, you're absentmindedly stroking over his knuckles. Grocery shopping, your hand is draped on top of his on the cart. Making dinner together, you're taking an extra long time to grab the spoon from him, making sure your hands connect. He is in love with it. Who would have thunk it; Mr. Big Bad Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, is an AVID hand holder.
You distinctly remember the time you both were making dinner and he hand-fed you a pepper from your stir fry. You quickly chomped down on the pepper and smiled at him grabbing his hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles. You could see his brain short circuiting as his face turned a deep red.
Divider Credit: @bunnysrph I'm gonna figure out how I want to set these up because I plan to write more Logan stuff. Pls leave me feedback! I haven't actually written anything in like two years so I'm a bit rusty. Anyways... thanks for reading!!
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papaya-twinks · 21 hours
Text
mauve - l.n - p.3
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Sexism
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Taglist: @cheriiepies@jan1on@sagestack@fall-bambi@meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole @justcharlotte @cutieln4 @amz824 @coff33andb00ks @yoruse @neferaskingdom @dramaticpiratellamas @leonie404 @scarletwidow3000 @awritingtree
other parts 💜
“God, she’s so fucking infuriating,” Lando said, balancing his phone against his water bottle as he buttoned up his white shirt. “You mentioned,” Max refrained himself from rolling his eyes as Lando ignored him. “Like, why does she insist on being such an annoying little shit? Is she trying to piss me off?”.
“And that stupid little dress she wore before practise and quali,” Lando said, his mind jumping back to the memory of the dress you’d worse, the thick, knitted black minidress, the holes between the wool showing off your skin. “Is she trying to tease me or something?” Lando asked, more to himself than to Max.
“I don’t think she wore it for you,” Max said, “but you sure are getting worked up about it,”. Lando rolled his eyes as his hands ran through his selection of chains and necklaces, sliding a couple rings onto his long fingers. “I’m not worked up about shit,” Lando said, his voice sounding forced and strained.
“Whatever,” Max scoffed, knowing Lando could be a stubborn little shit sometimes, “you blocked her for making a joke, at least unblock her maybe? Proves you’re not as petty as you made out to her,”. Max did have a point, Lando supposed, as he took his phone out, hand hovering over the ‘unblock’ button.
You hadn’t even blocked him back, which onto made him look petty. God, you knew his game better than he did. “Look, me and some do the guys are gonna head down to the club, meet us there when you’re done selecting which necklace is the least feminine,” Max said as Lando snickered, hanging up.
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“She’s such a-,” Lando said, showing Max the phone. “A bitch, yeah, you mentioned,” Max said, rolling his eyes, “now what are you showing me?”, he squinted at the phone, reading the comments. “Man, I put them fire emojis, I always put them and she sent the extinguisher,” Lando groaned.
“You told her she was shit as well,” Max protested weakly, knowing Lando would either flip at that, or ignore it. “Whose side are you even on?” Lando grumbled, though he did know he was being unreasonable. But he just didn’t understand why he felt so….so annoyed with simply your presence.
“Fine,” Lando said, putting his phone back down, “if she wants a social media rivalry coz she’s too shit to even bring her car close to mine,” he hissed, “she can have that,”. But yet, as Lando forced himself to try and understand and make himself believe that he hated you…he couldn’t help doing what he did next.
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As much as Lando hated to admit it, you were very beautiful. He could see why people said that, though you wouldn’t catch him dead with those words on his lips. It was well past midnight by now, as Lando just scrolled and scrolled through all your photos, the ones from your F2 days, karting days.
If little Lando had been told you’d be a driver one day, and he looked at you at that age, when you were little and karting too, he would’ve probably laughed. To him, what could a girl do? Well, tomorrow was when you showed what you could do.
You’d qualified 13th, just behind Alex, which was a pretty solid result considering you were driving a cheese grater on wheels, but mow was the race. Your palms were sweaty, arms heavy as you walked onto the grid. You’d at least manage to line your car up fine, which was a good sign in some respects.
You’re nervous, you could feel your heart throbbing against your chest, but on the surface you look calm and collected, ready to drive the shit out of this race. “Hi, Y/N,” an interviewer appeared out of nowhere as you walked up and down the pit lane, silently assessing each car.
“How are you feeling for the race?” she asked as you blinked for a few seconds. You opened your mouth, you’d forgotten what you’d practised, everything you wrote down, it was all gone. The race hadn’t even begun and you’d choked already. You gave the reporter a weak smile before nodding your head and walking back to your own car.
Not an encouraging boost. As you say in the car, talking quietly to yourself, you watched the light go off to signal a formation lap. It was the same as F2 and F3, just warm up your tyres, slide to the left and right to grab some heat into them. You’d done it countless times before, you could do it again, right?
“Fuck!” you hissed as your front left tyre immediately locked up at the front corner. You just about managed to make it round the corner, but it was no doubt that that type was no overheated, and more than likely flat spotted. “God, she’s locked up already?” Lando snickered as he watched you through his rear view.
He looked forward to telling Max he was right about you being shit. You lined up into your box, a little further back than you would’ve liked, as you waited for the lights to go out. One…two…three…four…five. And out they went, your foot stamping down on the accelerator. Much to your own surprise, you’d gotten a decent start.
You barely registered the cars that you passed, making up two places already as you made it round the first corner. Thank shit. Alex had made it up to tenth, the last of the points paying position, and you were just behind. The last thing you’d ever want to do on your debut was fuck up your teammate’s and your own race.
You watched as the cars who started on soft began to file into the pits, Lando included as he tapped his steering wheel with his fingers, waiting for the tyres to change. And where did he come out? Right behind you. Great. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando cursed to himself.
“Y/N, don’t fight it,” your radio engineer said as you ignored him, defending like it was the race of your life down to the first corner. “Y/N, please, don’t overheat your tyres, this isn’t your fight,”. You didn’t care, you hated Lando. You hated that man more than anything, he was nothing but a stupid jerk, he deserved it.
“Y/N, this isn’t our race, we’re not racing Lando, I repeat, we’re not fighting Lando,” your engineer said firmly. God, fuck it. With a silent yell, you let Lando pass you, watching him wave one hand out of the side of his cockpit to you. Was that a thumbs up or a middle finger? You couldn’t tell.
You struggled with your tyres for the remainder of that stint, pitting to come out in 9th, before getting swiftly overtaken by Alex, and then Daniel. It wasn’t a bad race, yes, you’d not come in the points, but you had only gone up two places.
Fuck, Lando, he was a dick.
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yuri-is-online · 3 days
Note
I'm taking a break from making Yutu asks and giving you a jade ask:
Most mer people expect humans to be either helpless or just a little ok when it comes to dealing with bodies of water.
Basing Yuu off of my experiences today, Yuu would not be most people. I come from a province that is full of rivers and waterfalls. When you first step in the water you'd let out squeaks and screams because the water is VERY cold. Cold enough that people stick full watermelons in and when they later crack them, they've turned into sorbet.
Today I went to a water resort that's based in a canyon. I was wearing high heeled sandals and started wading against the stream (yeah I know, pretty dangerous) I fell into the water twice but i still consider it a win since the first time I was dragged in when I was pushing a bench swing and the second time was when i tried sitting on an unstable swing (both were within 2 hours and both times my head stayed above water) my pants still tore from the water pressure
When jade first finds a waterfall on a hike with Yuu, he feels content with setting up a cute picnic. Yuu on the other hand asks jade to hold onto the food, as they eat to swim first. Jade is confused. What swim? WHERE?! Yuu then, fully clothed, walks into the water. Jade wants to scream. Sure they're at the bottom of the waterfall but that's still a lot of water pressure, some merfolk have drowned trying to swim against the stream. Yet Yuu just stands there, in the water, completely unaffected (adjusting to the temperature). Then they JUMP into the fucking water and start swimming to the other side of the stream. Jade loses his mind and starts yelling for them, he even puts his head into the ice cold water and screams hoping they'd hear him. When Yuu surfaces on the other side they look at him in confusion
"what's wrong, jade?"
"WHAT'S WRONG??? PREFECT WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DONT YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS?"
"what??? I'll just swim back and forth a few times! It's been a while since I've done this"
"AND WHAT IF THE CURRENT CARRIES YOU SOMEWHERE ELSE? WHAT WILL YOU DO?"
"....I'll stop??? With my legs??? I'll just stand????"
Jade is stunned
Legs. Yes legs. Humans had legs. Merfolk don't. That's why they can resist the current.
That day jade returns looking a little gaunt, which is something that worried Azul for what discoveries his friend had made
-Grim OB Anon
You know Grim OB anon you bring up a really good point with this concept: the way humans interact with water is probably a relatively foreign concept to the Octatrio. We know from Book 3 that NRC has a swimming pool they use for classes, but swimming isn't the only way humans interact with water. The three of them have never seen a water park, and it sounds like a concept that they would brush off as being silly. Why wouldn't humans just swim if they want to have fun? There's all sorts of things you can do to have fun under water, just ask they'll show you.
Jade has a calm facade, and the only time he really is comfortable breaking it is when he's excited. We've only ever seen him upset a handful of times, it's a very intense emotion on him. If this was any other human he would find it funny, but it's you so he doesn't find it funny at all. He's terrified and you are-
Fine. You are confident and radiant surrounded by water and standing up against something that is genuinely dangerous. He still asks you to come to shore, hiding his fear under a faux pout. You scared him, prefect, after he went so far out of his way to do something nice for you. Really the least you can do is just stay with him and let him take comfort in your presence.
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dindjarindiaries · 2 days
Text
The End of Love
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summary: After losing Hunter to both his inhibitor chip and the Empire on Bracca, you and the squad stop at nothing to bring the real him back.
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader
tags: angst, panic attack, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence, mind control, hurt/comfort
rating: T
word count: 9.780k
main masterlist • hunter masterlist
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His golden brown eyes had never looked so empty, nor so haunted. You stood and stared at him, breathless and frozen in place. He could snap out of it. He had to.
Rex had to be wrong. He had to be.
But then Hunter raised his blaster at you. You could only shake your head at him. Any of the protests you wanted to make were lodged in your throat.
You were wrong, because Rex had to be right. There was no way that Hunter, your Hunter, would ever point his blaster at you.
You couldn’t muster the strength to grab your own weapon, even though you were the last one standing between Hunter and Omega. She had at least listened to your instructions to flee and hide, but you didn’t know how much more time you could buy her. You couldn’t fight him. You wouldn’t.
Hunter’s blaster shook in his grasp. You weren’t sure why, but it devastated you all the same. You held your hands up in surrender, your own body trembling as you swallowed past the lump in your throat. You could only manage a whisper. That was still enough for Hunter and his enhanced senses to hear.
“Please.”
But you had already lost him. He pulled the trigger, you ducked down to try to avoid the shot…
And you sat up in your makeshift bed, gasping for air.
Your hand flew to your shoulder. It was no longer bandaged, thanks to the bacta treatments, but the texture of the forming scar could still be felt underneath your fingertips. You closed your eyes and attempted to catch your breath, but you were failing.
Because this wasn’t just a nightmare you experienced while you slept. This was a nightmare you were forced to live every single day.
“Sunny?”
Omega sounded as if she was underwater as her tired voice spoke to you. She was blurred by the tears trapped within your vision. You tried to reach out for her to assure her that you were okay, but the motion was scrambled in your own panic and devastation. Omega held your hand and wrapped the other around your arm.
Omega’s voice rose to a volume loud enough for the others to hear her. “Echo, help!” You pressed the heel of your free hand to one of your eyes as your body started to rack with frantic sobs. “It’s Sunny!”
It only took a few more desperate breaths for Echo to show up. Then there was a hand running soothing circles over your back, and a calming voice attempting to ground you back to your cruel reality. “Okay, Sunny. Tell me five things you can see.”
You worked your throat to speak around the pitiful sobs that tore through it. “Hunter…”
“Not inside your head.” Echo gave your back a gentle pat. “Out here. Open your eyes and tell me what you see.”
You obeyed, fighting the panic that seized your very heart as you did so. “I see Omega.” The young girl smiled at you, a gesture that was obvious even through the blurriness of your tears. “The weapons station. Hyperspace.” You looked down. “The blanket.” You wanted to cry for a completely different reason when you spotted the fifth thing sitting right in your lap, no doubt the work of Omega. “And… Lula.”
“Good.” Echo nodded in your periphery. “Now give me four things you can touch.”
You gave Omega’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Omega.” Your free hand lowered to your lap, just as your gaze had. “The blanket. Lula.” You searched for something else nearby, but came up empty—until Echo offered you his hand. “You.”
“That’s it.” Echo’s smile was evident in his voice. “You’re making great progress. You know what’s next.”
You nodded, because this exact process had become routine in the weeks after Bracca. “I can hear your voice, the hyperspace vibrations, and…” you strained for one more, “Wrecker’s snoring.”
Omega giggled. That at least got you to crack a smile.
Echo also chuckled. “What else?”
“I smell leather and a bunch of other confusing, gross smells that this squad can’t get rid of for some reason.”
That got even heartier laughter out of both Echo and Omega. “Damn right, Sunny.” He patted your back again. “One more.”
You glanced at your nearby canteen. “I could taste water if I drank from that.”
Echo bobbed his head. “Sure, I’ll take it.”
With your vision now clear and your chest rising and falling in normal breaths, you looked between Echo and Omega, who were equal parts relieved and sympathetic. You hung your head in defeat as you exhaled a heavy breath. “Thank you both. Again.”
“You don’t have to thank us.” Omega sounded just like Hunter as she offered reassurance. She squeezed your hand. “We’ll always help you.”
You lifted your head back up and caught Echo gesturing with his head towards Omega. “What she said.”
You shook your head, the weight on your shoulders causing them to deflate. Your eyes fell closed and your voice grew smaller. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”
“It won’t be much longer at all.” Your eyes shot open at Echo’s words. He awaited your stare with a small smile. “We found him.”
You blinked at him, your jaw dropping in pure disbelief. You had lost count of the amount of days it had been ever since Bracca, but each one had felt like a lifetime in its own right. You had been so ready to give up completely. “Really?”
“Really?” Omega repeated your word with more enthusiasm.
Echo nodded. “Really.”
His confirmation opened up an endless stream of words and wonders from within you. “Where is he? Has he gone far? Is he alone?”
Echo set his hand over yours again. “He’s on Kaller.” Your eyes widened at that. “He must be looking for the Padawan he saved back when we first got the order.” Echo exhaled and looked away from your gaze. “Tech said Crosshair’s not with him.”
Your lips tightened at that. You had all been hoping that you could get them together and bring them both home.
“Where’s Crosshair?” Omega sounded hopeful, clearly still elated by the idea of Hunter being found. You had certainly been taking Hunter’s absence the hardest, but Omega was just behind you in that regard.
“We’re still not sure. Because he’s been placed in high command, he’s harder to track.”
You let go of Omega’s and Echo’s hands and held Lula instead, hugging the tooka doll closer to your chest. “Are we heading there now?”
Echo nodded again. “We are.”
You frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve woken me up.”
Echo softened and tilted his head at you. “Because, Sunny, you need all the rest you can get right now.”
You handed Lula off to Omega and prepared to stand. “Well, now I’m awake.” You stretched. “Let’s start planning.”
Echo sighed, though the fond smile on his lips proved it was far from being one of annoyance. “Yeah, we had a feeling you’d say that.” He started to stand with you and turned his head over his shoulder. “Tech, time to wake up Wrecker.”
“Affirmative.” Tech sounded just as alert as Echo was. You huffed to yourself; they had clearly been spending their watch shift locating Hunter, and then starting a plan. You might have had the most special connection to Hunter, but you were far from the only person who wanted him back, desperately.
Not just wanted, though. Needed.
“I’m coming to help, too.” Omega’s mind was made up, and the chin she lifted at both you and Echo proved it. The two of you shared a look before you both nodded at her.
You, Echo, and Omega all headed to the hold, where Tech and a half-awake Wrecker were awaiting you. Tech and Wrecker remained seated where they were, while Echo stood by Tech’s chair and Omega leaned against Wrecker’s. You paced the floor, your arms crossed and your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek.
“Our current inference is that Hunter has been assigned a miniscule squad.” Tech wasted no time getting right to it. “Despite this, it would be wisest to prepare for more numbers.”
“Exactly.” Echo was just as focused as you were, now. “Especially if we think they’re looking for a Jedi.”
“I will land the ship just outside the perimeter of the clearing where we last fought on Kaller.” Tech typed on his datapad, no doubt making note of the plans as a backup—or for his own research. “I advise splitting into teams.”
“I agree.” Echo nodded in Wrecker and Omega’s direction. “Tech, Wrecker, and Omega, you should all stick together and act as a distraction. We need to keep Omega away from Hunter for now. Sunny…” he paused and let his gaze flicker over to you, “we’ll go after him.”
You froze in place, the image of Hunter standing across from you on Bracca yet again haunting your mind. You were torn; you wanted nothing more than to see him again, even if he was still trying to kill or capture you, but you couldn’t forget the hesitation you had the last time you were forced to face him.
Ultimately, you let out a soft, defeated sigh. “I’m not sure if I can, Echo.”
Echo’s brow furrowed in determination. “If any of us can get through to him, it’s you.” Echo offered you a nod. “You can do this.”
Your haunted mind replayed that moment on Bracca, but this time, it focused in on Hunter’s shaking blaster. You couldn’t help but think, or maybe hope, that the trembling was indicative of him trying to fight the chip. If it was, then it proved Echo’s words to be true. You could have a chance of getting through to him.
And that was a chance you had no choice but to take.
You steadied yourself with another breath before you nodded. “Okay.” You resumed your pacing, even as you continued. “So, let’s say you and I succeed, Echo, and we get Hunter. What next? Do we go back to Bracca?”
Tech lifted a finger. “It is either the Jedi cruiser on Bracca or Kamino.” He adjusted his goggles as his brow rose. “Though Kamino is not much of an option, given our present… unfavorability with the Empire and the regs.”
“It has to be Bracca.” Echo was set on it. “We just have to make sure he stays unconscious until then.”
You tightened your jaw and gripped your upper arms tighter. The thought of keeping Hunter unconscious, no matter his current state of mind, was unsettling. You didn’t want him hurt.
That was what had made this situation so difficult for you in the first place. You knew Hunter, and you knew how he would feel the second he realized what had happened and what he, or at least his body, had done.
That was going to hurt him more than any physical wound ever could.
You stopped your pacing and faced the group. “That’s it, then?”
Echo and Tech shared a look before nodding. Echo provided the verbal confirmation. “That’s it.”
“Wait.” Wrecker’s voice betrayed his confusion, as did the furrow between his brows. “Who’s going to get Hunter?”
Tech frowned. “Echo and Sunny. We have already reviewed this.” He huffed and looked back at his datapad. “Perhaps if you paid attention.”
“I’m still wakin’ up!” Wrecker stretched out his arms. “It could be the middle of the night for all we know.”
Tech tilted his head. “On which planet, exactly?”
Echo sighed. “That’s enough of that.” He leveled both Tech and Wrecker with stern looks before walking over to you. He set his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We need to get ready. We should be dropping out of hyperspace soon.”
You lifted your brow. “We were that close?”
The corner of Echo’s mouth rose in a smile. “We were.”
You let out another steady exhale as the shock of all these quick developments began to sink in. Echo, recognizing this, took a step back as you gestured with your head towards the weapons station. “I’m gonna take some time to prepare.”
Echo nodded in understanding. “Take as long as you need, Sunny.”
You offered him a small smile of your own before you headed back towards your makeshift bed. Once you got there, you reached forward to pull the blanket off the item you kept hidden in the corner, close to the place where you rested your head every night to sleep.
It was Hunter’s helmet, the only piece of himself he had left behind on Bracca.
You held it between your hands and set it on your lap, with your legs crossed and folded underneath you. The empty visor stared back at you, familiar and comforting enough to make the corners of your lips twitch upwards. You lifted the helmet as you lowered your forehead, allowing the two to meet as your eyes fluttered closed.
You had found him, and you weren’t going to leave without him. You weren’t sure whether it was the stars, the Force, or the gods responsible for this chance, but you didn’t hesitate to thank them all. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Are you nervous?”
Omega’s voice made you jump as you opened your eyes and lowered Hunter’s helmet back to your lap. She wore a sheepish smile as she sat across from you.
“I think we’ll get him this time.” Omega’s innocent eyes bore into yours, as if she was silently begging you for reassurance. “Do you?”
You had always vowed to be nothing but honest with Omega, mostly because she could sense a lie better than anyone else you had ever known, and you were able to do the same now. “I do.”
You handed Hunter’s helmet to her. Omega took it, her gaze giving it a once-over as her chest inflated with a soft inhale. She then hugged the helmet against herself, closing her eyes just as you had before. “I can’t wait for him to be home.”
You maneuvered yourself to Omega’s side and set your hand upon her back. “Me too.” She leaned into you, and you rested your head against hers. “And he may not be thinking about it yet because of that chip, but I’m sure he can’t wait to be back, either.”
Omega reopened her eyes and looked up at you. “Are you gonna tell him?”
You blinked at her. “Tell him what?” Your chest flared with panic at her knowing more than you wanted her to.
Instead, Omega’s gaze gestured to your shoulder. “About your scar.”
You twisted your lips. “I have a feeling he’ll already know.”
Omega’s expression fell. “You mean… you think Hunter will remember everything he’s doing?”
You gave her a solemn look. “Do you remember when Rex told us about the chips at Cid’s?” You paused, giving Omega time to recall the memory. Once she nodded, you went on. “He said it wasn’t something that could be controlled. He would’ve only known that if he experienced it for himself, and remembered it all.”
Omega’s sweet eyes searched yours before she lowered her focus to the helmet in her lap. She hugged it just a bit tighter and let out a worried sigh. “He’ll be so upset.”
You offered her an encouraging smile. “But at least he’ll have us.” Omega’s gaze flickered back up to yours. “We can help him through it.”
Omega returned your smile and nodded once more to agree with you. She rested her head against you again, and you assumed the same position as before. The two of you sat together with Hunter’s helmet in peaceful silence until the Marauder jolted out of hyperspace.
Echo poked his head inside Omega’s makeshift room. “We’re here.”
Your stomach fluttered with a confusing mixture of anxiety and excitement as you acknowledged him with a nod. You focused back on Omega as you held her face between your hands. “Ready?”
Omega set her jaw as her kind gaze hardened with determination. You started to smile at the traces of Hunter you saw within her. “Ready.”
Your smile widened before you bent down to give her forehead a kiss. You then eased Hunter’s helmet from her lap and put it back in its spot, though it would hopefully soon return to its proper place. Omega led the way back to the hold and the cockpit, where the rest of the squad had already gathered.
You braced your hands upon the back of Echo’s chair as you watched the atmosphere of Kaller grow closer. Everyone was holding a collective breath at the anticipation of the battle to come. There was an unspoken yet universally understood and agreed upon truth; you weren’t leaving without Hunter.
Even if that meant you didn’t leave at all.
Wrecker was the one who broke the tense silence. “Hunter’s done a lot for us.” He looked around the squad, his expression more serious than you had ever seen it. “The least we can do for him now is bring him home and save him from that chip.”
Everyone else started to nod in agreement. You, on the other hand, walked away from your place at Echo’s chair and gave Wrecker an embrace you both needed. He held you there for a few long moments, his gloved hand patting your back every once in a while. When you pulled away from each other, Wrecker set his hands on your shoulders and smiled.
He repeated Echo’s words from before. “You can do this, Sunny.”
You returned his smile and straightened your shoulders. “Thanks, Wrecker.”
You all took your seats as Tech lowered the Marauder to Kaller’s surface. Your heart leapt into your throat when you flew over an Imperial shuttle. You had half a mind to tell Tech to destroy it for fear of Hunter getting away again, but you bit your tongue. Hunter would know you were here, no doubt, but he wouldn’t run with a whole squad backing him up this time.
Once the ship was grounded and powered down, the squad rose to their feet. You triple checked all of your gear as the boys did the same. Omega had her bow and her comm, and she stuck close to Wrecker and Tech. Echo glanced at you before he spoke to the group.
“They already know we’re here.” Echo slid his helmet on as he continued. “We’ll stick together until Hunter leads them to us. That’s when we’ll split up. We’ll want to draw as many of their forces away from Hunter as possible.”
You steadied yourself with deep breaths as you nodded at him. Now that you were here, it was beginning to feel more real—and your nervousness was growing. The mere idea of facing Hunter and his activated chip again made your stomach tie into sickening knots.
Echo held up his blaster and gestured with his helmet to the open hatch. “Let’s head out.”
Echo continued to lead the way, weaving the group around the snow-covered trees until you reached the clearing from that fateful day when the war ended. You froze there for a moment, recalling the pure horror in Hunter’s voice when he realized what was happening. If only he knew then what was happening now, that the Empire had dragged him into it.
You swallowed hard and pushed on.
You descended the downward slope on the other side of the clearing and entered the density of the surrounding wood again. It was a lot harder to know when to stop without Hunter on your side. He certainly would’ve been able to hear them and sense their location by now.
Echo held up his scomp, a substitution for a fist. The squad stopped, and you began to look around your surroundings in a careful circle—but you didn’t see anyone. Your heart was racing inside your tightened chest, and each fogged-up breath you took sounded louder and louder in your roaring ears.
“So, you decided to come to me first.”
Hunter.
Your knees nearly gave out at the sound of his voice. It was even lower than usual, evidence of the way the chip was corrupting him. All of your heads snapped towards the source of the sound, and you watched as he emerged from the trees.
Hunter had painted his armor entirely black, and he had been issued a helmet with a green visor, just like Crosshair’s. Those were the only noticeable differences, until he paused and lifted the helmet from his head.
Your heart pounded even more violently against your chest as you caught sight of him. He had exchanged his red bandana for a simple black that matched the rest of his armor, and rather than letting his hair flow behind him, he had tied it back, aside from the usual small pieces that framed his face. The most notable difference, however, was still his dark gaze.
It was completely empty, and it was just as haunting as you had remembered it to be—especially once it locked with your own.
“We’re here for you,” Wrecker corrected him. “We’re gonna bring you home, Sarge.”
Hunter’s gaze flickered over to Wrecker as he huffed, his jaw circling and his brow furrowing. “I don’t think so.”
He lifted his free hand and waved two fingers, drawing his Imperial forces out of the shadows. Thankfully, as you observed them all, you realized Tech’s initial thoughts were true; he only had a smaller squad with him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Hunter set his helmet back over his head. “Not this time.”
Echo held his blaster tighter. “Yeah, and neither are you.”
Hunter’s fingers fluttered at his side before he gave the command. “Fire!”
You saw what he was reaching for. You leapt forward to lower Echo’s hand, causing it to just narrowly avoid being hit with the blade Hunter had thrown to disarm him. Meanwhile, as the blaster fire started to rain down upon you, Wrecker and Tech focused on shielding Omega and leading more of Hunter’s forces away. You took Echo and hid behind the cover of a tree.
After checking that your blaster was set to stun, you leaned out and fired in Hunter’s direction. He ducked behind a nearby tree, hiding from your shots. You took the opportunity to hop over to the trunk beside Echo’s, letting each of you have your own space.
“Go after them,” you heard Hunter instruct his troopers. He gestured with his helmet in Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s direction. “The rest of you are with me. We’re going after those two.”
Echo tilted his helmet at you. “Told you, Sunny.” He chuckled and lifted his blaster. “Even with the chip, he can’t resist you.”
You rolled your eyes, and despite the severity of the moment and the anxious trembling that threatened to overtake your entire body, the corners of your lips turned up in an amused smile. “Let’s make sure we get him far away from the others.”
Echo nodded to agree with you. This time, you led the way, diving between the trees to avoid any of the blaster fire that was aimed in your direction. Echo was just behind you the entire time, and every once in a while, he shot off some stuns of his own.
You went far enough for the sounds of Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s pursuers to disappear. Only at that point did you speak up to Echo through your panting breaths. “What now?”
Echo got a few more shots off before answering. “I have a theory to test.” He caught up to your side and nodded. “I’m gonna split off and see if he sends them after me.”
Your eyes widened. “You think Hunter will go after me alone?”
“Like I said.” Echo dodged a blaster bolt and hid behind a tree trunk. “I’m testing a theory!” He tapped his helmet. “We’ll comm if it doesn’t work!”
You inhaled before ultimately nodding at him. Echo patted you on the shoulder before he split off to the right, drawing their fire as he wove through the trees. You continued to the left and tried not to worry about him, or yourself. There was a high possibility that one of you could end up being the focus of all their firepower.
But deep down, you knew Echo was right, because you had seen it somehow inside Hunter’s empty gaze. There was a part of him that couldn’t keep himself from focusing on, and ultimately pursuing, you—and you could only hope it was the good part of him.
You heard the crunch of a branch from close behind you, and you didn’t have a chance to turn your head over your shoulder to see who it was. The same blade from before was whizzing through the air, thrown at just the right angle to catch the material of your shirt and pin you to the nearest tree trunk. Only one person could have an aim that precise.
You holstered your blaster to focus on pulling yourself free from the blade. Hunter was closing the distance quickly, and you weren’t waiting around to find out what he would do next. You cried out with effort as you managed to tear the blade from the bark. Instantly, you threw it back in his direction, missing on purpose so that it solely served as a distraction. It hit the bark of the tree across from you, and Hunter pulled it free without missing a beat as he barreled towards you.
You stumbled back and grabbed your blaster, holding it with both hands as you prepared to pull the trigger and stun him. Hunter stepped close enough to knock the weapon from your hands, though your sidestep kept him from getting any other hits in. You blocked each one of his blows, suddenly grateful for the long, grueling training sessions that he would do with you back during the war. You refused to go on offense, instead doing whatever you could to keep him from hurting you—for his own sake.
But being forced backwards wasn’t a stable way to fight. You soon tripped over a fallen branch, and that gave Hunter a window to kick your middle. You lost your breath the moment your back connected with a tree trunk, and in a flash, Hunter was upon you. His blade was at your throat, and his knee was pressed between your legs, keeping you in place.
Your eyes went wide, especially as Hunter took the liberty of removing his own helmet with his free hand. Your chest rose and fell in quick breaths, but all you could focus on was him. There had to be a piece of him left in his gaze, but all you could see was darkness, the same darkness that had been plaguing your nightmares ever since Bracca.
He shouldn’t have been hesitating to slit your throat, yet he was. The edge of his blade was kissing your skin, flirting with the very real possibility of swift death, but he wouldn’t make that final move.
The real him was still in there.
“Hunter.” Your voice was softer and calmer than you expected it to be, nothing more than an intimate whisper of his name. His brow was still furrowed, but you could see a muscle in his jaw flex. You swallowed hard, feeling the blade bob on your throat, and went on. “H.”
Hunter blinked at you. His brow softened for a split second, but then the knit returned with even more ferocity than before. “Don’t call me that.” His voice was a sneer. “Traitor.”
You remained soft, even if every single survival instinct inside you was screaming to tense up and fight for your life. “Come home, H.” You repeated the only thing you could say to him on Bracca. “Please.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes, but you couldn’t be fooled. The blade had started to tremble slightly against your skin, and just as Echo had worked on his theory before, you started to work on your own.
“I’m sorry.” You let the genuine, raw truths spill from your tongue as you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have waited until now to say this, because you deserved to hear this truth from me a long time ago.”
Hunter growled and tightened his grasp on the hilt of his blade. “Don’t.”
You ignored him. “I love you.” Your vision started to go blurry as tears pooled at your waterline. Your lips were trembling just as much as Hunter’s blade was. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Not until I had to face a reality where I had lost you.”
Hunter blinked, his brow relaxing again as he absorbed your words. The shaking of the blade worsened, but he still didn’t lower it. Even your blurry vision could still make out the small, golden flecks that began to faintly illuminate his gaze. A piece of him was here with you now, and he was fighting to be here.
“I love you, H.” You dared to lift a hand to his tattooed cheek, your thumb tracing the outline of it as you did so. Your voice lowered back to a hushed whisper. “Let me bring you home. Please.”
Hunter’s gaze searched yours. Most of it was still dark, but that growing light was unmistakable, as was the trembling weapon against your throat—and the tear that fell from his eye. You caught it on your thumb.
He needed one last push to give himself completely over to you, if only for a moment, and you were going to take your opportunity to provide it.
Your free hand caught his wrist and moved it just enough to let you lean forward, sealing your lips over his. The hand on his cheek snaked back to the nape of his neck, securing him in place against you. Hunter hesitated to respond, but the moment your fingertips threaded into the hair that was secured at the back of his head, he gave in.
The blade fell from his hand and clattered to the ground as he instead focused on holding you against him. You were hit with a confusing mixture of emotions, with relief and pure love reigning above all the others, but there was also a strong trace of guilt—because as much as you wanted this, you couldn’t forget the reason why you were doing it.
And as you pushed your tongue through his parted lips, you drew his blaster from his holster, switching it stun and pulling the trigger against his armored chest.
Hunter froze, the shock of the stun running through him. You didn’t break away from him just yet, instead continuing to hold the back of his neck as you whispered your apology against his lips. “I’m sorry.”
When his knees gave out, you went with him, supporting him the best you could to ease his descent to the ground. It was only then, when you had his head cradled in your lap, that you realized how damp your cheeks had become from your own tears.
Your actions were numb as you kept one hand on his face and used the other to lift your comlink to your lips. “I got him.” Your voice shook, though you tried to project as much strength into it as you could muster. “I’m gonna need some help to—.”
“I’m on my way.” It was Wrecker who answered with protective decisiveness. The words brought a small smile back to your lips.
“So am I.” Echo sounded slightly out of breath, no doubt preoccupied with eliminating the threats that had trailed him. “I’ll be there in a minute or two.”
“Omega and I are en route to the ship,” Tech added. “I will bring it closer to facilitate a more expedient exit.”
You listened to their voices as you hung your comlink back on your belt and reached for your blaster in the snow. You then disarmed Hunter of his weapons and kept them tucked into other places on your belt. Keeping your blaster drawn, you held it at the ready, though it was trembling in your hand similarly to the way it had trembled in his on Bracca.
But this time, he wasn’t getting away. He was finally coming home.
Still, your shoulders weighed heavy with guilt at the things you had to do to him, and the fact he could potentially see your love confession as nothing more than a calculated tactic to get through to him. Nothing would devastate you more than him doubting the truth, especially when you had meant every single word of it.
You continued to repeat an apology to him as your free hand cupped the side of his face. Your gaze ran along the lines of his relaxed expression until they led you back to his hair. You took a deep breath and reached back to free it from its restraint, marking the first official step in bringing back the man who was trapped within his own, traitorous body.
You were so focused on Hunter that you didn’t even hear Echo’s approach. He was suddenly kneeling on Hunter’s other side, his blaster holstered and his hands lifting his helmet from his head. He wore the same expression that he did when he helped you through your nightmare-induced panic attacks.
“You did it, Sunny.” Echo’s voice was softer than you had ever heard it, and he reached forward to rest his hand over the one that was clutching your blaster. He lowered the weapon for you and nodded. “Just like I said.” The corner of his mouth rose in an amused grin. “I knew my theory would work.”
You huffed and raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Tech.”
Echo chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, this entire squad’s starting to rub off on me, I guess.” He put his helmet back on as you holstered your weapon. “Let’s try to get him up.”
You nodded and reached for Hunter’s arm, waiting until Echo was ready to hoist him up. You set his arm over your shoulders and pushed up until you and Echo were back on your feet. Hunter’s limp head hung between you, and his boots dragged over the snow as you and Echo headed back to the clearing. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from externally reacting to the sight of Hunter like this, but even that couldn’t prevent Echo from knowing you as any good family member would.
“He’ll be thanking you for this once the chip’s out.” Echo’s visor glanced in your direction. “You know that, right?”
You closed your eyes and exhaled a steady breath. “It’s more than stunning him and dragging him around, Echo. It’s…” You paused, uncertain if you could even bring your fears to words.
“And like I said, he’ll thank you for it.” Echo remained firm in his reassurance. “Whatever it is that broke through to him.”
Your shoulders fell in defeat, but before Echo could question you about it, Wrecker burst through the trees. “There… you… are!” He was out of breath as he reached forward to take his brother’s limp body from you and Echo. “You guys… went far.”
You chuckled. “Yeah, that was the idea.” You smiled as Wrecker tossed Hunter over his shoulder, and once he was settled, you hugged Wrecker on his open side. “Thank you for coming.”
Wrecker held your shoulder with his free hand and echoed Omega’s words from earlier that morning. “You don’t have to thank me.” He secured his hold on Hunter and nodded. “Now let’s bring ‘im home.”
You grinned wider at that. The more members of the squad that you saw, the better you began to feel about it all. Your guilt still loomed like a shadow over your mind and your heart, but this family was a light that began to illuminate your darkest corners.
Echo and Wrecker stood close to both sides of you, keeping you in the warmth of their realms as the three of you made your way back to the clearing. The Marauder was waiting there for you, just as Tech had promised. Omega was waiting on the steps that had been lowered from the hatch, and as soon as the three of you stepped out of the surrounding wood, she gasped and ran forward.
“You did it!” Omega was smiling as she closed the distance to your group. You fully expected her to go to Wrecker and Hunter first, but instead, she went right up to you. Omega threw her arms around you and let the side of her face smush against your middle. “I knew you could do it, Sunny.”
You were too choked up to respond with your words, so you settled for holding her back just as tightly. Her pure love was a healing balm for your very soul. You hoped she knew that—and somehow, you knew that she did.
“Let’s keep celebrating inside the ship.” Echo was gentle with his directive as Omega stepped away from you. “We should get going so we can make it before he wakes up.” Echo nodded towards Hunter on Wrecker’s shoulder.
Your gaze fell to your feet. You didn’t like remembering that it was you who had put him in such a state.
Omega held your hand, drawing your attention back to her. Her eyes were wide with a sympathy that was genuine rather than pitiful. She kept her hand in yours the entire way back to the ship, only letting go once you were settling yourself next to where Wrecker had eased Hunter down onto the floor of the ship.
Hunter’s upper half rested upon the interior hull, his head and shoulders slouching under the weight of his unconsciousness. Either Wrecker or Echo had already taken care of restraining his wrists, in the event that he woke up and tried to fight. You steadied yourself with a breath and closed your eyes as you exhaled. It would all be over soon.
When you reopened your eyes, you caught Echo’s gaze from across the ship. Wrecker had taken Omega to the cockpit to witness the takeoff back to Bracca. Echo made his approach and knelt down in front of you and Hunter.
“If he wakes up,” you warned him in a low yet honest voice, “I won’t be able to do it again, Echo.”
“I understand.” Echo set a hand on your shoulder. “And you won’t have to.” He gestured back to the chairs behind him. “We’ll be right here, ready to do it for you.”
You smiled in the best show of gratitude you could muster. Echo squeezed your shoulder before he stood back up and returned to his chair. As soon as the hull at your back began to hum with the familiar sensation of hyperspace, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega were all joining you, too. Omega sat at Hunter’s other side, her head resting against his arm, while Wrecker and Tech stayed at the ready by Echo.
After a drawn-out stretch of silence, with tension thick enough to have been cut by your blade if you tried, Tech dared to speak—which hardly surprised anyone. “I must ask, Sunny.” He adjusted his goggles before going on. “How exactly did you succeed in… apprehending him?”
Wrecker swatted Tech’s shoulder hard enough to make him grunt in both surprise and pain. “You actually don’t have to ask that!”
“On the contrary,” Tech narrowed his eyes as his hand rubbed his sore shoulder, “this could be vital information should we run into another individual whose inhibitor chip is active.” He inhaled a gentle breath before going on. “Such as Crosshair.”
You ran your thumb over your forehead and sighed. “What I did won’t work on Crosshair.” You gained the faith to look up, just to see the entire squad staring back at you. Even Omega had lifted her head from Hunter’s arm. You steadied your shoulders and returned their eager gazes. “It won’t work on anyone.”
Tech raised an eyebrow. “Well, clearly…” He gestured towards Hunter.
You mumbled, “Anyone except Hunter.”
The ship fell silent before Tech yet again spoke up. “Ah.” His furrowed brow relaxed as his gaze cut away from you. “I see.”
Wrecker gave Tech’s shoulder another nudge. “I told ya’ you didn’t have to ask.”
“All that matters is that Sunny did it.” Echo finally entered the conversation with a voice of reason. “The next thing we have to focus on is getting to Bracca and removing Hunter’s chip.” Echo’s gaze caught yours. “Not the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ behind what’s already been done.”
Your lips stretched up in a small smile as you mouthed a silent Thank you to him. While you usually wouldn’t mind Tech pressing for information, this situation was more delicate than any other. You were having a hard enough time coming to terms with what you had to do to get through to Hunter.
Even if it had worked.
Echo kept Tech and Wrecker busy by discussing plans for getting to the Jedi cruiser on Bracca as fast as possible. You should have been participating in the discussion yourself, but you instead took the opportunity to wallow in your own self-pity, and to come up with things you would say if Hunter woke and immediately questioned everything you had said to him.
It was in the midst of this that you hear Omega’s hushed voice from Hunter’s other side. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it.”
Your eyes widened as your head slowly turned in her direction. Omega’s brown gaze was piercing, but not in an uncomfortable way, as it flickered over your own expression. Even at her young age, she exuded a wisdom and a peace that was difficult to bring to words.
“He would have done the same to bring you back.” Omega nodded and gestured to the rest of the squad. “We all would.”
You let out a breathy chuckle and shook your head. “I’m not sure about that.”
Omega began to wear an amused smile. “You mean the kissing, and the ‘I love—.’”
“Shhh!” You held a finger to your lips and cut your gaze at the boys. They were still talking amongst themselves, completely unaware about whatever you and Omega were discussing. You narrowed your eyes at Omega. “How did you know that?”
Omega giggled and shrugged. “I guessed.” She snapped her fingers and pointed them at you like a blaster. “And I was right.”
You returned her smile, but only for a moment. It faded as your worries, and the overall heavy weight of the entire situation, settled over you once again. You closed your eyes and let out a long exhale. “It worked, Omega, but if I’m being honest?” You reopened your eyes to look at her. “I don’t know if I should’ve done it.”
Omega’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
You couldn’t meet her gaze as you instead studied the lines of Hunter’s face beside your own. He could always calm you down, even if he wasn’t awake to do it. “Because I don’t want him to think I didn’t mean it.”
Omega blinked once, then twice. She reached her hand over Hunter to quietly ask for yours. You accepted her small hand in your grasp, which left your entwined hands on Hunter’s armored thigh. Her stare never left yours as she went on. “Did you say it with your brain, Sunny,” she tapped the side of her head with her free hand, “or your heart?” She lowered her palm against her chest.
You took a gentle breath before answering. “My heart.”
Omega offered a small smile and a quick squeeze of her hand. “Then he’ll know the truth.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think he already knew.”
You narrowed your eyes at her again. “Why would you think that?”
Omega gave you a knowing look. “Everybody knows, Sunny.” She looked at the boys again, and your gaze followed hers. Their heads all whipped in different directions, as if they had just barely avoided being caught staring directly at you.
You huffed and shook your head. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to hide feelings around here.”
“The mission was to bring him back, Sunny.” Omega’s voice was nothing but warmth as she went on. “And you did.” Her eyes welled with sudden emotion, but using her strength that had always amazed you, she kept it held back. “Thank you.”
You immediately softened, the strain of her voice pulling you full-force out of your self-pity as you instead opened yourself up to her. Omega stood just enough to move from Hunter’s side to yours, her arms wrapping tight around you. You held her back and leaned your head against hers, your eyes closing as you recognized this exact scene.
It was the perfect reversal of your journey to Kaller.
You and Omega stayed like that until the Marauder exited hyperspace. You were immediately shot with a new wave of adrenaline at the thought of having Hunter back so soon. Though he had physically been here, you all were painfully aware that it wasn't really him, not until that chip was out of his head. You were going to do everything you could to make sure that happened.
Once Tech had landed the ship as close to the Jedi cruiser as he could, you all geared up again and prepared for the trek. Wrecker yet again took care of Hunter, who was somehow still unconscious, as the rest of you led the way and made the path as easy for him as possible. An unsettling wave of déjà vu settled inside you, but you tapped into your buzzing adrenaline instead.
Tech stared at his datapad as he led the group inside the Jedi cruiser. Thankfully, you had already learned all its traps the last time, and Tech had��of course—made note of them. Since the others had still taken the time to remove their chips the last time you were here, Tech was also familiar with the process, too. Everything would be expedited.
Which meant you would be facing Hunter again, your Hunter, before you could really begin to process it. That excited you and scared you more than you thought possible.
As you arrived at the infirmary and Tech began to dial up the machine again, you began to run at least a thousand possibilities about what would happen the moment he woke in his right mind again. Rather than dwelling on yourself as you had for the majority of the trip here, you focused on Hunter alone. You had to have a plan for how you would help him through his own guilt of what he had done, because it would indubiously be there.
Wrecker set Hunter down and prepared him to be operated on. You steadied yourself with a breath and made your way over to his side. Gently, you lifted a hand to his bandana and slid it off, making room for the machine to do its work. As you brought your hand back towards yourself, you let your fingertips linger on the warmth of his skin along his defined and tattooed cheekbone.
After this moment, you would no longer have to see him as a stranger. Hopefully.
You held onto the bandana and looked at Tech, who was clearly waiting on you. You nodded. “Go ahead.”
Tech returned your nod and lowered his gaze to the controls. His fingers flew across them before the machine whirred to life and eased Hunter inside. You watched, your gaze glued to the sight, until Hunter’s body stopped again.
Tech spoke into the tense silence. “The process should only require a few standard minutes.” It was no doubt his attempt at reassurance, due to the fact you had all seen before how long this process took. “Though I am uncertain how long it will be before he wakes.”
Echo, who had his arms crossed Tech’s side, was the next to speak up. “Well, we’re not going anywhere until he does.”
You nodded before glancing over your shoulder at Wrecker and Omega. He had his hands on Omega’s shoulders as she stood in front of him and stared endlessly in Hunter’s direction.
You looked around and found one of the chairs you all had utilized the last time you were here, and you pulled it right up to Hunter’s side. Looking at Omega once again, you tapped the back of the chair, inviting her to sit in it. She smiled and stepped forward, letting Wrecker’s hands fall from her shoulders as she hopped onto it.
It was exactly where she had been for the others’ chip removals, and you wanted this one to feel just as normal for her—even if it was anything but.
Meanwhile, you and Wrecker both walked back towards Tech and Echo. Everyone remained quiet with anticipation, though the unspoken sentiment of hope shined brighter than the light that poured from the working machine. Hunter’s absence had been difficult on all of you, and at last, that trying time was coming to an end. In the waiting, all you could do was fumble with the material of his bandana in your hand.
Your heart leapt into your throat the moment the machine finished. Hunter’s body slowly slid back to where it had started, his expression displaying a different kind of serene than it had before, though that may have just been you fooling yourself. You stepped forward to slip his bandana back on, minding the bandage that had already attached itself to the side of his head. You knew he would want it back on when he woke.
But before you could even finish pulling your hands away, one of your wrists was suddenly grasped by a delicate touch. You let out a soft gasp and could only stand there, blinking in surprise with your jaw dropped, as Hunter’s dark eyes fluttered open.
Only they weren’t dark anymore. They were a sweet, golden brown again, sparkling more and more the longer he looked upon you.
Omega’s gasp at your side was much louder than yours had been. It drew you and Hunter apart as you both looked over at her, seeing the uncontainable joy and relief written all over her smiling face. “Hunter?” Her utterance of his name was strained with the same emotions you had seen on her expression.
Hunter chuckled, the sound breathy as he pushed himself to sit up. “Hey, kid.”
Omega couldn’t contain herself, and you couldn’t blame her. She all but leapt from the chair into his arms, holding onto him even more tightly than she had held you before. Hunter grunted in surprise, but the sound morphed into sweet laughter as he held her back. You pressed a hand against your warm chest and tried to take it all in.
The relief. The admiration. The overwhelming love…
Your eyes were watering before you could help it. All your fears from before returned and created a confusing mixture with the overjoyed emotions that had already been devouring you whole. You were drowning in a sea of dark devastation and breathless relief; he was right here, finally back to his true self, but you weren’t sure what he would think about how it had happened.
You stepped back, making room for Hunter to approach his brothers once he was done with Omega. But when Hunter patted her back to gently ease her away from him, he only had eyes for you, and they met your gaze with a stare so powerful that you truly did lose whatever air was left inside your lungs.
Hunter stood and closed the distance over to you. You were ready to fall into his arms the moment he opened them up to you, his gloved hand holding the back of your head and inviting you to bury yourself into him. You obliged, your soft cries muffled by his armor. He was holding you in a way he never had, certainly not in front of anyone else.
He waited, his other hand running over your back in soothing strokes, until you had mostly composed yourself. Only then did he ease his hand off your head and encourage you to look at him. 
You both said the same thing at the same time. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter furrowed his brow, his brown gaze studying yours as he lifted a hand to your cheek. “What are you apologizing for?”
You sniffed, your gaze falling to his chestplate as you gently pressed your hands upon it. Your voice was quiet and uncharacteristically timid as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have waited until then to say what I said.”
Hunter’s expression flashed with understanding, but you were surprised to see the corners of his mouth rising in a small smile. “You’re right.” His words made your heart drop until he caught it, using the same gentleness as the grasp he had taken on your chin to tilt your head back up at him. “You shouldn’t have had to wait, because I should have said it a long time ago.”
You blinked at him, your disbelief overwhelming every rational part of your mind. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
Hunter’s grin only widened as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. “We are.” He brought himself closer, the closest he had ever come to you with the others around, and whispered the words upon your lips. “I love you, too.”
Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t much, not with everyone’s attention on you, but it was just enough to prove that his words were anything but a simple reassurance to put you at ease. It was the wholehearted truth, one that was so easy to believe with him showing it to you by finally loving you out loud in the open for those he cared the most about to witness.
And your heart was a melted puddle in his hands, ready for him to do whatever he wished with it—because you knew it would be safe there.
When he pulled away, your gazes lingered the way you wished your lips could, the corners of your stinging mouth finally lifting the same way his had.
Unsurprisingly, it was Tech who broke the silence. “So that is the reason why your method would solely work on Hunter.”
You burst out into laughter, which only intensified as Hunter leveled his brother with a quizzical look. He wasn’t able to question it before Wrecker finally gave up on his restraint and practically barreled over to Hunter. “Welcome home, Sarge!” He cheered the words as he hugged Hunter tight enough to make him audibly gasp for air.
Hunter’s voice was a wheeze that he could only get out once Wrecker had set him down. “It’s good to be back.”
He maintained a warm smile as Echo and Tech approached him with warm handshakes and pats on the shoulder. Hunter’s expression, however, started to fall as his gaze did the very same.
“I’m sorry about everything that happened, and that you had to come after me like that.” His stare returned to you. “It was impossible to control, as much as I tried.”
Your hand mindlessly brushed over the scarred part of your shoulder. “We know.”
But that mindless action had accidentally drawn Hunter’s attention straight to the healed wound. He frowned as he walked back over to you, his gloved hand covering yours as he looked upon the scar. You couldn’t have written mortification more clearly over his face even if the word itself replaced the skull that was tattooed there.
“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft as you gently turned his cheek and set his stare back on your own. “Like you said, you couldn’t control it. I know that.” You nodded at the rest of the squad. “We all do.”
Hunter’s jaw circled. “Still.” His voice was much lower than before. You softened even more as you ran your thumb over his cheek. He took a deep breath and nodded at you. “I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”
You smiled at him. “You never even hurt me the first time.” Your gaze flickered over to the bandage that hid underneath his bandana. “That wasn’t you. I saw the blaster shaking. I know you were trying to fight it the best you could.”
Hunter closed his eyes in defeat, a heavy exhale falling from his lips. You leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek, which encouraged him to look up at you again. “I couldn’t fight it.” His face morphed into determination as he went on. “And I’m far from the only one who was affected by it.”
Hunter stepped back from you, inviting a patient Omega to his side as he did so. She was eager to take her place there, her arms wrapping around his waist as he set a gloved hand on her back. The sight alone warmed your body like the sunlight.
“Tech, I assume you’ve already found the most optimal route back here?”
Tech nodded. “That is precisely how I got us here this time around.”
Hunter returned his nod and set his shoulders. “Good, because we’re not done with this place yet.” He spoke with a decisiveness that made it clear he wouldn’t ever be moving on the matter. “It’s time to bring Crosshair home.”
You beamed at him, as did the rest of the squad. If you could find and bring back Hunter, then it was possible to do the same for Crosshair, too, no matter how long it had been. Hunter’s gaze found yours as he offered you a warm, loving smile that you had no choice but to return.
This time, you wouldn’t be doing it without him. He was back, as sure of himself as ever, and he wasn’t backing down on anything anymore—not on finding Crosshair, and certainly not on the way you two felt about each other. Those days of dancing around each other were over.
This nightmare would be hard to forget, but maybe it really did have a bright side after all, because it had set you inside a dream you never thought possible.
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main masterlist • hunter masterlist
hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020
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grapefives · 3 days
Note
im in love w how u wrote for hoshina.... can i ask for more please 🙏🙏 any fluff or teasing (him) would be ok i just binged kn8 and fell for him 😩 ( also male reader rise up bc this man makes ME rise up i get cuteness aggression w him sb)
HIGH, HIGH | OS
hoshina x gn!reader (platoon leader reader!)
fluff + teasing + cuteness aggression + light mentions of injuries
a/n: (IMPLIED MALE READER) stop, i feel the same way. i just wanna east him up
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your eyes won’t stop looking at those narrowed eyes, the ends of his bangs falling softly over them and casting a pretty shadow. you trail down to his cute nose, then to his lightly puckered lips. you smile, biting it back when you sense his narrowed gaze flitting towards you.
“y/n.” hoshina says sternly.
“yes?” you ask, returning your gaze to the belt you have yet to fasten around your waist.
damn him, he always catches your gaze before you look at the best parts.
“nothing,” he says, and he turns around to look around for his swords.
he can’t hide from you. you know your fiancé too well. you catch the redness in his ears as he gives his back to you. you eyes down at his waist, smiling at the empty slits on the back of his belt. you take the swords you had sneaked out of them and trudge up to him. he’s murmuring softly to himself as he looks around.
“-swear i never take them out-“ he says before pausing.
you put the swords back in their rightful spot before placing both your hands on his waist, a bit above the belt hanging around him. he’s not exactly frozen in place, but pausing with anticipation. you only smile, leaning your whole weight from behind to press him forward a bit…only to place a kiss on the shell of his ear.
he shivers before smacking your arm when you quickly step away with a cackle.
he glares at the back of your head as you walk out of the office, saying something about finding out the commander over an inquiry. he knows your lying, to an extent at least. he makes sure he has everything on him before walking out, he has to watch the officers practice and go through their training.
“hoshina?” a voice asks in his in ear.
“yes captain?” he asks, his boots thumping the polished floors as he walks down the corridor.
he listens in to her concerns and to her comments. his day goes on like that, he doesn’t see much of you throughout the day, it’s always like that. he’s immersed in office work while you’re more immersed in hands on, physical work. his mind sometimes goes back to how you two met, that mission that made his heart skip a beat around you.
where you had to drive the team out. where you kept scaring the living shit out of everyone with your recklessness. where you kept getting scolded and had the audacity to drag him into it. where you had smiled at him and winked when he glared at you.
“boom!” you open the door to his office with a loud exclamation.
“how’d the mission go?” he asks, yet doesn’t look up at you.
“well sweetheart, grant me a pretty smile and i’ll let you know.”
he rolls his eyes before looking up at you. the papers in his hands go slack but he remains calm. “you’re hurt?”
you flash a grin at him. “i miss those days when you’d drop everything and run up to me to check where i’m hurt.” you sigh out nostalgically.
he rolls his eyes, “after years with you, sweetheart, i’m used to the sight of you injured.”
“eh? hoshina from yesterday wouldn’t have said that.”
he looks back up at you, “what are you talking about?”
“yesterday you ran up to me and kissed me.”
“yesterday you went radio silent mid fight.”
he tries to glare you down but your eyes are soft, and your lips wear a small smile. you’re looking at him so tenderly he almost melts. he sighs and stands up. he melts.
“come here you baby.” you say with wide arms.
“how about you come here?” he huffs.
“because i’m in so much pain!” you yell and drop dead to the floor.
“ah, honey, you’ll get my floors dirty.” he squats down next to you, eyeing your face as you grin up at him.
“just me?” you grin teasingly.
his eyes widen before falling back narrowed. he lightly pushes your face away in an act of annoyance. you turn your face back to him and as fast as he normally is, with you, he’s always slow. before he knows it he’s tackled to the floor.
“ah- y/n! aren’t you in pain?” he looks up at you, a smile on his lips.
“yeah, my knee just popped back in place i think.”
“eh-?” he frowns. he tries to look at your frame but your caging him underneath your body.
you smile smugly at him, a hand grazing over the side of his ribs. “see, i got stabbed here, with one of the kaiju’s spikes.” you trail your hand down to his knee, voice softening and lowering, “i got thrown across the street and dislocated my knee trying to hop off a platform to run up to it.”
he stares up at you, listening to your storytelling. he knows what you’re doing and as much as he hates it, he loves how his heart still races at your warm touch.
“then, i had to duck and i think i sprained my hamstrings,” your hand moves lower down his thigh and his breathing gets slightly shallow-
“a-am i interrupting?” okonogi asks at the door.
hoshina gasps, trying to shove you away. you laugh and pat his thigh before getting off of him.
“no dear, we were just talking.” you smile up at her.
“o-on the floor?”
you nod, smiling wickedly at the flush on hoshina’s cheeks. “i was telling the vice captain how the mission went.”
“oh! i brought the reports about it actually, since you asked for them,” she says, forgetting what she saw to hand you the folder.
you sit criss crossed and thank her. “well dear,” you say to hoshina, tapping his head with the folder as you easily get up from that sitting position, “you should get back to work, i was only here to see you and you attacked me.”
“eh?” okonogi tilts her head.
“ah, how bad of me to want to inspect your injuries, honey.” he grits.
“you can inspect all you want,” you grin, pulling him up to his feet.
“hope you get better platoon leader y/n!” okonogi says cheerfully, “good to see you vice captain,” she bows respectfully before leaving.
you watch her leave and close the door. you look away for a second before smiling, moving your sight to hoshina who’s glaring you down. ah, how cute! he’s so cute when he’s all grouchy! only you get the worst out of him.
“yah!” he yells as your hug him and bite down on his cheek. “GET OFF!”
“BUT YOU’RE SO CUTE, BABY! WHY SO POUTY?” you ask as you grab his face, folder long forgotten and on the floor now.
“because you always interrupt my work-“ he frowns as you squish his face. your grip is strong and he glares at you.
“how can i not when i love you so much?” you grin before kissing his entire face as he grunts. ah, you just wanna eat him up!
“i love you too- DON’T BITE ME!” he screams and you cackle.
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synthetickitsune · 2 days
Note
hoshi,,,blind date,,,fluff
Hoshi (SVT) | Blind date fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader
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The evening was… nice.
And that’s about all that you can say about it.
Honestly that is in part why you seldom say yes to blind dates. But since your one-plus-one deal coworker and trusted friend in one insisted you and their other friend Soonyoung should give it a try, you eventually agreed.
There was nothing wrong with him. He was nice. A little awkward, his shyness matching yours, but you didn’t mind much. He was laughing at your jokes a little too hard, but it was endearing. The conversation flowed well, he was kind, funny. Nice.  
Not to mention handsome. Maybe slightly cuter than a guy has any business being, but it works so well for him. It’s very charming, actually.
But for a date, it was nothing special - which is to be expected, of course. It was obvious he liked you, as much as you could like little more than a stranger, which made him less of a social butterfly than he is at the office (at least from what you could tell from his stories). You’re sure that the next date would be better since you’d be more familiar with each other, but honestly… Is it worth it? Perhaps you had too high expectations after a long and tiring week, just craving something magical to make the struggle worth it.
You feel slightly guilty for feeling that way when Soonyoung has been nothing but sweet the whole time, even now as you’re strolling along the river with the setting sun shining down on you, he’s great. It’s quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet. You’re grateful for the brief pause in conversation as you sip on the cold drink in your hand. 
The park on your other side is getting empty, but there’s still plenty of people chatting on the blankets having a late picnic. The insects are buzzing, the water is rippling. It all makes up a nice ambiance of dying summer.
While you’re pondering the pros and cons of a second date, the kids in front of you finally talk their parents into buying them some ice cream. Just as you’re passing by them, the youngest one tries to run away from its siblings and the ice cream suddenly splatters on the ground as they wobble. The kid looks at the mess like it’s the biggest tragedy to ever befall mankind.
You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from laughing. Soonyoung next to you isn’t so successful.
He starts walking faster, about to burst, and his barely contained laughter only makes it that much more difficult for you so you match his pace, and then all it takes for you to lose it is one glance at each other. At least you’re out of earshot of the parents fussing over the kid.
“It’s not nice,” a shaky breath interrupted by laughter, “To laugh at something like that.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” you don’t take the scolding to heart, instead you try to calm your breathing. Which just makes Soonyoung laugh harder, which in turn makes you laugh again.
“We’re really messing up our karmas,” he finally manages to say relatively calmly after a couple minutes. He wipes at his eyes quickly and you take the opportunity to do the same.
“I’m so glad you started laughing first,” you take a deep breath, “I thought you’d judge me.”
“Never!” his hand shoots up to clutch at his chest as he acts all offended.
“Are you sure?” you tease, “I’d be very disappointed if that was a lie.”
“My sense of humor is really childish,” he waves you off. His ears look a little red. Soonyoung really is a bit too cute. And you still don’t mind.
“Yeah? Give me your worst joke,” And that challenge is your undoing. 
How you got here, sitting by the river and leaning on Soonyoung because you’re laughing so hard, you have no idea. It’s a blur - and the memory is filled by too many jokes that would just make your cheeks hurt more. He really wasn’t kidding, the jokes are bad. Horrible. Childish. And exactly your taste. And just what you both needed to relax and be comfortable apparently.
Somehow you’re still sitting there when the sky gets dark, just talking. The contrast of before and now is night and day. Suddenly you’re reluctant to leave even though you really should. And your date doesn’t seem too excited about the idea of leaving either - not even after you already scheduled another date.
Although you think just one more won’t be enough.
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dreadfuldrip · 9 hours
Text
Torn between worlds
~~A ghost of a memory
or
Your Logan is dead, so how come he's standing in the doorway of Wade's apartment?
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The worst!Wolverine/GN!Reader
a/n: No one asked for it, but take some angst. I hurt my own feelings with this one ngl
CW: MDNI 18+, GN!Reader, past partner death (major), grief, alcohol consumption (minor), physical violence, ANGST, hurt with eventual comfort, mild language
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You fumble with the paper sitting on your bedside table. The invite to Wade's party only had a date and address, which is a little strange, seeing that he is your next-door neighbour. According to the invite the party started an hour ago, but better now than never, right?
Shimmying into simple jeans and a t-shirt, you thought about what Wade could throw a party for this time. It's not uncommon for him to have impromptu get-togethers, but it had never previously involved an invite. Usually, Wade would just knock on your door and drag you down to his apartment, half forcing you to join in on the fun. So what was different this time?
Although the invite doesn't ask for it, you stand in your kitchen throwing together an ensemble of snacks ranging from fruit to chocolate to bring to Wade's. As you reach to put away the extra fruit, your eyes snag on an old photo of you and Logan on vacation. The two of you had taken a trip to Ireland; in the picture, Logan is smiling at you, eyes alive with something you can't quite tell, and your head is tipped back in laughter at something he said. The years since Logan died seemed to fly by in a blur; days of rotting in bed turned to months and would have turned to years if Wade hadn't dragged your sorry ass out. You never told him about your relationship with the famous Wolverine; you disliked talking about it. You already had to share his death with the rest of the world; you can keep your grief for yourself. Shaking your head, you take a few calming breaths before grabbing your plates and heading for the door. 
Stepping into the hallway, you could hear the hum of voices and laughter coming from Wade's apartment down the hall. It's a miracle the guy hasn't gotten a noise complaint yet, or at least none you've heard about. As you near the apartment door, you spot a man taking the stairs toward ground level before disappearing out of sight, and for an instant, you could have sworn it was Logan. The broad shoulders and tousled hair transporting you back to a time long since passed. Even as every fibre in your body screamed to check and make sure it wasn't him, you forced yourself to push open the door to the apartment.
People were littered around the room, talking and laughing with one another as music played quietly from somewhere. Placing your plates on the counter, you poured yourself a glass of something good from the fridge before looking for Wade.
Unsurprisingly, you find him seated on the couch with Vanessa beside him, talking to a young girl with long brown hair. You briefly lock eyes with the girl, and a strange sensation washes over you. Not quite recognition, but something tugs on the edges of your memory, just out of reach. 
You don't have time to dwell on it before Wade is bounding toward you, dragging you into a tight embrace before grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. "Look who decided to show up! My absolute favourite neighbour—right up there with that guy who blasts show tunes at 3 a.m.!" You can't help the smile growing on your cheeks while you swat him off of you. 
"Jesus, Wade, did no one teach you personal space?" You ask between laughter, swatting him away before letting him lead you over to the couch, babbling about some adventure he went on.
"You wouldn't believe who the cat dragged back from the multiverse," Your brows shoot up at that. Seeing the look on your face, Wade goes into a long-winded story of how the TVA wanted to destroy your universe for a reason you couldn't catch. By the end, you have more questions than answers.
"Sorry, what the fuck reason did they need to destroy our universe for?" You question, feeling ridiculous just speaking the words.
"Well, basically, each universe has an anchor person. Unfortunately for us, ours was sweet Wolverine who took impalement to heart." You can't hide your flinch at Wade's words, but no one seems to notice. "But now we have this cutie-pie over here. Meet Laura, better known as X-23," Wade wraps an arm around the girl who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. "and Peanut is just making his hourly trip to the liquor store!" 
Your head feels like it might explode. Multiverses? Who the fuck is Peanut? "I need another drink for your bullshit." You huff, earning an offended scoff from Wade before going back to talking to Laura.
Standing in the kitchen, weighing your drink options, you think about that girl. The name X-23 definitely rings a bell, but it's like any memory of the name has a thick layer of fog surrounding it, like your mind is telling you it was better to forget. With a sigh, you pour yourself a tall glass of wine.
You hear Wade's excited shouting just before turning to see the door open, revealing the stranger you had seen taking the stairs earlier, only he isn't a stranger. It was Logan. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room as you stared at the talking ghost. He was dead; you cried over his already cold body all those years ago, fell apart in front of his headstone daily, and went to years of therapy just to be able to hear his name without breaking down. Heads swivelled in your direction as the bottle of wine you'd been pouring shattered to the floor, splashing crimson on your clothes and shoes. A strangled noise bubbled up from your chest as Logan's eyes locked onto yours. Distantly, you heard people fussing around you, but right now, it felt like the room was empty besides the two of you. 
You didn't realize your knees were shaking until they buckled beneath you, your knees hitting the cold floor, red wine soaking the fabric of your jeans. The noise around you faded to a dull hum as your mind raced. Logan was standing there, alive, breathing- but you buried him. How many nights had you spent curled in the bed you used to share, grieving your last days with him, begging anyone who would listen for one more moment, one last chance to say goodbye? 
And now, he was standing in the doorway not 15 feet away from you as if no time had passed. You couldn't stop staring at him, terrified if you blinked he'd disappear again, like a cruel trick of the mind. He still had that haunted look on his face, the same one you used to kiss away and the same little tufts on either side of his hair you used to endlessly tease him for. Your chest tightened painfully; it felt like an old wound in your heart was tearing open, stitch by stitch.
"You're-" His voice, hoarse with emotion, cracked painfully as he stepped towards you, his face pale as snow. "You aren't my y/n," 
You could barely focus on his words, your mind reeling at the sound of his voice. For years, you've cursed yourself for forgetting the deep timber in his words, how it used to be so at odds with the sweet words he'd whisper to you each morning. You open your mouth to speak, but your throat threatens to close, a noise akin to that of a dying animal choking its way out instead. You can't speak, can't breathe. How do you talk to someone you've mourned for years when they are standing right in front of you? 
Logan's words sliced through the haze like a blade. Not my y/n. They echoed through your head, reverberating off the walls in your mind. What kind of cruel joke was this? You dragged in a ragged breath, your chest tight, eyes burning with unshed tears. Every cell in your body was begging you to run to him, to feel his skin's warmth and let the smell of him envelop you, but you couldn't move. The floor felt like it was swallowing you whole, and part of you wished it would just to rid yourself of this terrible ache in your chest. 
Logan's eyes, the same ones you would stare into and see your future in, looked at you as though he, too, was seeing a ghost. His gaze was filled with sorrow, mirroring the look on your face. "I lost you in my world." His voice was barely over a whisper, agony dripping off each syllable. "I lost you, I buried you, I am the reason why you-" He choked on the word, unable to finish his sentence as his gaze dropped to the floor. 
You felt a pit form in the bottom of your stomach. The weight of his confession nearly had you un-having dinner. Not only were you seeing the ghost of a man you loved, but he had mourned you. In his world, you had been the one who died. The cruel irony of it all left you shaking. 
Wade's voice cut through the heavy silence like a jarring chord. "See, isn't this multiverse crap fun? It's like a cosmic soap opera!" You felt something inside you snap at Wade's ignorance. 
Time seemed to speed up as you launched yourself at him, tackling him to the floor as a vicious growl tore through your throat. You could feel a distant sting in your knuckles as you landed blow after blow to Wade's face; it vaguely occurred to you that he had gone still and was taking it. When the pain in your firsts became unbearable, and Wade's face was black and blue, you stopped, panting over him. He turned his face to the side and spat blood. 
You felt weak, like your body wasn't your own. Someone hoisted you off of Wade, backing off as soon as you shook them off. The pit in your stomach grew, threatening to envelop you whole as you pushed past a Logan that wasn't yours. Your chest felt like it was about to explode, your vision blurring with tears. You needed air- needed space because the walls in Wade's apartment were closing in, and you were drowning in the memory of a past that's now come back beyond the grave. 
The cool night air hit you like a slap when your feet hit the pavement outside the apartment. You gobbled it down, relishing the cool embrace on your tear-stained cheeks. The city buzzed around you, indifferent to the waking nightmare you're currently living in. 
You didn't register Logan behind you until you heard the door slam. "Wait-"
"No." You snapped, spinning around to face him. The look of anguish etched into the lines on his face threatened to make your knees buckle, but anger still flowed through your veins. "Don't. Don't follow me." Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it. You couldn't do this again; your world was crumbling around you, but this time, it was someone else's Logan breaking your heart. You could feel the years of work and grief trying to move on falling in shambles around you. "You're not… You're not him." You watched your words land like a physical blow.
Logan flinched, his expression twisting in pain. "No, and you're not them." He bit out each word, like the mention of the other you put a sour taste in his mouth. "You think this doesn't hurt me? I've mourned you for years, and here you are, alive. I held you as you bled out in my arms, helpless."
You couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped you. "Hurt you? You come into my universe, to my home, and you expect me to try to empathize with you?" You take a few strides forward and stare at Logan, an ugly snarl on your lips. "I fell apart every single day for years after I lost you, and now you-" Your voice falters, a tear slipping down your cheek. 
Logan's face softens. "I didn't know you were alive here, and I definitely wouldn't have guessed you'd be buds with Wade. But," He takes a breath before continuing, something new mingling with the sadness in his eyes. "I'm here now."
Something deep inside you broke. "No, this is a mistake. You need to go home. You're not him. You're not the man I-" Your words caught in your throat. Before you could finish, Logan touched a hand to your elbow. 
"I'm not him, the same way you aren't them. I know that." He whispered, his breath mingled with yours. "But can't you see? It's killing me to stand here, knowing I can't hold you like I used to."
His confession tore down the last of your restraint. The weight of all of your emotions - grief, anger, love you had tried to bury- came crashing down. Before you could think, you grabbed his face, pulling him into a bruising kiss. Logan hesitated for a moment, hands hovering over your waist, but he gave in, crushing you against him like a man starved. The kiss was messy and frantic, both of you clinging to each other as if this could mend years of pain and suffering. 
The world faded as your lips moved together, your bodies recalling each other like a forgotten melody from long ago. You barely notice stumbling into the narrow alley beside the apartment building; you gasp into his mouth as your back hits the cold brick wall. You were fueled with desperation and longing, revelling in the way his breath hitched as you kissed him harder. Right now, nothing mattered. Not the multiverse or the difference between this Logan and the one you lost. All that mattered was the way his body ground into you, his lips threatening to devour you whole. 
You broke away for air, foreheads resting together, your breaths ragged and uneven as you shared the same air. "Logan… I don't know how this…" You trailed off, unable to find the words to make this make sense. 
"I know." He murmured, voice low and raw with emotion. "We'll figure it out, one day at a time." 
You kissed him again, softer this time, letting yourself dream of a world with Logan again. For however long this would last, you hoped that at least this time, you'd have the chance to say goodbye.
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Notes and reblogs are appreciated! Hope you enjoyed :)
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nanamincreampie · 2 days
Text
Quiet choso
Choso Kamo x Black plus size reader
Warning: 18+ mdni, Choso expriencing puppy love
( part 2 )
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Quiet Choso who’s always been on the sidelines, keeping to himself but never missing a single detail when it comes to you.
He’s seen you in class so many times, always effortlessly put together. Your soft 4c hair, styled in a neat bun today, draws his eyes whenever you walk in, and your rich, deep skin glows, accentuating every curve of your plus-sized frame. It’s not that he’s staring, at least not in an obvious way, but his gaze always seems to find its way back to you, the way your dress hugs your hips, the soft outline of your waist, and the fullness of your thighs that press against the seat when you sit. He notices everything about you without trying.
He never says much, but he’s always listening, especially when you speak in study groups. The soft, calm tone of your voice commands his attention in ways that the professors never could. Even when you greet him in passing with a gentle "Hey," he only responds with a quiet nod or a brief “Hi,” his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not used to talking, especially not to someone who stirs him up like this.
Today, though, it feels different. You’re sitting in the library, the same place he often studies, and your presence is impossible to ignore. The fitted dress you’re wearing perfectly hugs your curves, and from his spot across the room, he admires how effortlessly beautiful you are. Every time you shift in your seat or tuck a curl behind your ear, his eyes linger just a second too long.
As he flips through his notes, his mind isn’t on the pages in front of him it’s on you. He tries to focus, but when he glances up, you’re smiling at him, soft and shy. His heart skips a beat.
You catch him watching, and with a soft laugh, you tease, "Choso, are you even studying, or are you just people-watching?"
His throat tightens, and he clears it, turning his eyes back to his notes. “I’m studying,” he mutters, though even he knows it’s a lie.
You stand up and start to make your way toward the stacks of books nearby, and his gaze follows you, admiring how gracefully you move. There’s an ease in the way you walk, your dress moving fluidly over your curves, every bit of your figure making his mind race. And when you bend slightly to grab a book from a lower shelf, he can’t help the way his breath hitches, eyes drawn to the way the fabric clings to your hips and thighs.
It’s then that another guy walks up to you, trying to make conversation. Choso clenches his fist under the table, feeling a sudden rush of jealousy as the guy leans in too close, his eyes wandering over your figure. He watches the interaction from a distance, his jaw tight.
"Come on, don’t you want to grab a coffee or something?" the guy presses, a little too eager.
You smile politely but shake your head, clearly uninterested. "No, I’m good. I’ve got a lot of studying to do."
Choso feels the tension in his chest ease a bit as you turn the guy down, and when you return to your seat, your eyes meet his again. There’s a playful glint in your gaze, as if you know he’s been watching.
"You alright, Choso?" you ask, your voice soft, genuinely curious.
He nods stiffly, trying to keep his cool. "Yeah, I’m fine," he says, though his tone betrays him.
You tilt your head, eyes narrowing slightly as if you’re figuring him out. "You sure? You seem… distracted."
Choso doesn’t answer immediately, unsure how to respond without giving too much away. Instead, he lowers his eyes to his book, biting the inside of his cheek.
You laugh softly and shake your head. "Well, don’t let me distract you too much. We’ve got exams coming up." You give him a teasing smile before returning to your notes.
And Quiet Choso, who sits there, unable to shake the feeling growing inside him, is left wondering just how much longer he can stay quiet about how he feels. Because every time you walk by with your curves, your soft voice, and that smile, it gets harder and harder to keep his thoughts to himself.
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daydreamerwoah · 1 day
Text
Family Tree (Chapter 4)
tw: awkwardness; drinking
Simon x Y/n <3
When you walked back toward the booth, you could see three additional bodies sitting with Ella. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to put on a face to meet her boyfriend and his friends. God, why didn't you just leave when you had the chance? Maybe you could sneak back to the bathroom so you could have more time to calm your nerves. You cursed yourself for not bringing your bag; maybe then you could have just left the place entirely and told Ella you had to leave when you saw her the next day at work. 
But no. You didn't have the chance to think of a grand escape plan. 
Ella's eyes found yours and an excited grin found its way on her lips, making the guy sitting beside her glance your way.
Shit. 
"Guys," she said as you made it to the table, "this is Y/n." she gestured to the three men sitting there.
Your eyes first landed on the brown-skinned man who was next to her. "Kyle," he introduced himself, sticking his hand out to shake yours. "This is my fella," your friend sweetly said before kissing his cheek playfully. Somehow, seeing them next to each other, you could instantly tell how they fit perfectly for one another. 
"Steamin' Christ," the guy sitting across from Kyle said, catching your attention "These two," he playfully rolled his eyes, "Name's John, but you can call me Johnny lass," he joked, making the couple laugh. 
"He's just jealous his bird is deployed right now," Kyle shot back. 
You wanted to ask what the hell bird meant, but from how you were just talking about Ella and Kyle, you thought it had something to do with a girl he was with. At least you hope that's what it was.
Johnny scoffed, "Yeah whatever."
"Scoot," Ella told Kyle, making room for you to sit next to her in the booth. You smiled before squeezing your way in, "And this-" she said, making your eyes look at the body that was now sitting across from you, "- is Simon."
Your heart dropped five flights of stairs down to your stomach the moment you saw the man. The dark brown eyes, the black surgical mask, the hood that covered the rest of his head. It was the guy you'd seen in the cafe twice; the guy you hastily backed up into, and fuck did you want to hide under the table. Your eyes widened, and you gulped, embarrassingly obvious. Ella subtly glanced at Johnny and Kyle, who both had a curious look in their eyes but remained quiet. It was amazing how the three of them had come to the same conclusion that you had to have known him somehow.
"Uh hi," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt, "Nice to meet you guys," you glanced around the table. 
A waitress brought each one of them drinks, giving a thankful distraction to the table as she set down the glasses. But it wasn't a good enough distraction for Simon Riley. The moment you walked back to the table and he glanced at you, his eyes narrowed slightly. From the side of your face, he thought you looked familiar but couldn't place where he'd seen you before. It wasn't like he remembered a lot of things when it came to his civilian life - especially people - but it was something about you that screamed I've seen you. It wasn't until you sat down across from him that he was indeed correct; he had seen you before... in the cafe. And by the look on your face, you had remembered him too. The slight furrow of his eyebrows was slightly covered by the hood, but you saw it. 
You wanted to believe that he wouldn't recognize you. I mean, he probably saw a lot of people during the day like you did. Surely some girl who bumped into him weeks ago would spark anything for him to think about that moment... would it?
Wrong.
You tried your best to keep your focus on everything else going on at the table; Kyle and Johnny discussing a little bit about their last mission - the pieces that weren't confidential; each time one of them raised their glass to take a sip of their drink; anything.
While Ella asked Kyle and Johnny about what all happened earlier in the day, Simon's eyes subtly remained on you. Maybe this time you'd catch him staring, and then you'd feel slightly better about catching him. But he was quick... each time you found yourself glancing his way, his eyes would already be on the couple. He was a soldier, after all. Everything he did was silent and quick… Except for his intimate moments, but that rarely was shown to anyone. Even the one night stands he had, they had never even seen his face before, so there was no way they'd see anything more.
But hell, this was awkward as fuck. So awkward you found your leg slightly bouncing under the table. 
"So lass," Johnny said as he took a sip of his drink, "America?" You slightly raised your eyebrow at his quick conclusion, making him smirk, "The accent." 
Oh.
You nodded, quickly looking at Simon before going back to Johnny, "Yeah."
I mean, it was hella obvious that you weren't from anywhere except across the pond. 
"What made you move here?" Kyle chimed in. 
A beat went by before, "Family," your short answer came out. But Ella, already proving herself the best bestie there was, switched topics immediately.
"I was thinking about cooking a big dinner on Friday. You all should come over yeah?"
Bless her heart. You didn't even know if she really was going to cook or not, but it definitely got their attention changed to food and how good Ella's cooking was. You slightly lowered your head, thankful for the change in topics, but this didn't go unnoticed by the quiet man sitting across from you. He was no stranger to avoiding anything that remotely talked about family, considering he didn't like to talk about his either. But he didn't like the feeling that crossed his mind about why you didn't like to talk about yours. Were they back in the States? Were you close to them? Were they dead? All those questions ran through his mind as he looked at you for a moment. 
Feeling his gaze, you briefly glanced up meeting his eyes, before cutting them away to pay attention to Ella talk about everything she was going to cook. 
"Oh you should join us," she said, looking at you. 
And risk running into the man - erm, Simon - again? 
"I can't... have to take care of some things," you declined, once again coming up with an excuse.
Well, it wasn't an excuse. You did have something to do. Continue fixing up the damn townhome. 
Her famous pout formed on her lips, making you give her a sad smile. If she convinced you to do anything else today, your head was going to spin. 
"Fine," she playfully rolled her eyes, "But one day you have to. Deal?" You nodded. She glanced down at your empty glass from earlier, "Want another bourbon?" she asked, making the table go silent for like... three seconds. Although it felt like an eternity.
"Y'drink bourbon?" Johnny asked, with a look on his face that was unknown to you, it made you slightly blush sheepishly. But Ella and Kyle, that look made their lips turn upward before simultaneously glancing at Simon. He, however, felt his eyebrow raise at hearing her ask you that question. Another thing that made him curious about you. 
You nodded, "Yeah," you answered him before looking at Ella once more, "But no. Think I'm gonna head out."
She groaned before a thought popped in her head, "Wait. Come to the restroom with me," she pleaded and all but gently shoved you out of the booth before grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the restroom. You didn't even have time to protest before you were walking behind her toward the back of the pub. The moment the two of you stepped inside the restroom, she faced you with a big, toothy grin, "Alright spill. How do you know Ghost?"
Your eyebrows drew closer together, "Ghost?"
Rolling her eyes, "Simon. We call him Ghost cause that's what he usually goes by - his callsign. But whatever. How do you know him?" she smiled. 
"I don't know him."
"Bollocks. When you looked at him, your eyes got so big I thought they were gonna pop out ya head," she teased. 
You wanted to laugh, but the fact that she saw the way you looked at him made you freeze a little. You weren't that obvious were you? You had two choices: brush her and the topic off like it never even happened, or tell her. The thought that she'd bug the shit out of you forever if you didn't say anything made you cringe a little. You glanced around the restroom, feeling silly about why you even felt awkward about the guy.
"I just-it's a cafe I went to a few weeks ago. I was in a hurry to get to work and accidentally bumped into him after I ordered my latte. It was embarrassing, to say the least," you said, remembering that day vividly for some reason, "And then I saw him again the other day. I wasn't-wasn't staring or anything, but he caught me looking at him. Talk about being a weirdo. Just didn't think I'd see him again," you finished, somehow zoning out a little at the memory of how you embarrassed yourself in front of a man what was now three times. 
And god was Ella beaming inside.
The same thing could be said for Johnny and Kyle back at the table. 
"Seems like she likes ya L.T.," Johnny teased, nudging Simon's shoulder, making the large man huff, "She likes bourbon too."
Kyle chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, "You've seen her before?" 
Simon was a man who never talked about his personal life, not even to his teammates. What little they knew about him was snippets of his past and that he enjoyed a good Kentucky bourbon any day of the week. There were bits of pieces that he sometimes indulged them in, but for the most part, what he did when he wasn't at work was any of their guesses. So knowing that you had seen a girl - Ella's coworker at that - intrigued them like small boys learning about something their big brother was doing. 
"Wouldn't ya like to know," he responded, the cockiness of his personality coming a bit. 
Although he was quiet - ghostly quiet - Simon was playfully cocky, and every now and again, his friends would catch a moment. This made the two other men chuckle, teasing him more about where he probably met you.
After a minute or two, you and Ella had made it back to the table, her taking a seat next to her boyfriend again while you grabbed your bag. 
"It was nice meeting you guys," you said, bidding farewell to them. Before you left, Ella made you - more like demanded with a laugh - that you put your number in her phone. You couldn't help but slightly grin as you did. Handing it back to her, you took one last look at the three men sitting in the booth as well, eyes lingering a bit longer on Simon. He didn't even hide that he was looking at you too. It made your stomach flip at the silent interaction. "Bye," you said before leaving the pub. 
If you were lucky, you probably wouldn't have to see him again and further embarrass yourself. 
I feel like this wasn't awkward enough but I was having a hard time putting thoughts into the writing lol!! I might rewrite this What yall think?
Taglist: @simp-4-masked-men @dayrin085 @jessicab1991 @kylies-love-letter @kalypsoox @brownlee-22 @firefoxkairan
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idkyetxoxo · 2 days
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Daeron Targaryen - Ashes of Betrayal
Summary - Secrets unravel and tensions ignite between brothers, Daeron's forbidden love for her puts them all at risk. With loyalty and betrayal hanging in the balance, her fate is sealed by forces beyond her control, leading to a devastating clash between love and cruelty.
Pairing - Daeron Targaryen x Velaryon reader
Warnings - Violence, mild language
Word count - 3176
Based on this request
Masterlist for Daeron • House of the Dragon General Masterlist
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Finding myself captured by the enemy in the midst of a war wasn't exactly part of the plan. 
Yet here I was, shackled, facing Aemond Targaryen, whose cold, calculating gaze remained unnervingly calm, even as the chains rattled against my wrists.
"Tell me this instant how you knew about that route," Aemond demanded. His tone was even, controlled, as though the answer was more a matter of curiosity than importance.
I met his stare, unfazed. "You already have me in chains. What more can you do?" 
My voice was steady, but the deliberate tug at the cold metal binding my wrists served as a reminder that I wasn't as composed as I pretended to be.
Aemond's jaw tightened, though his expression stayed eerily neutral. His single eye bore into mine, assessing every detail, every slight movement. 
My gaze flickered for a split second to the shadows where Aegon and Daeron stood, just out of the light, and that brief glance was all it took. 
Aemond's attention followed, and though he didn't outwardly react, I saw the moment he understood.
"Seems our younger brother has betrayed us," Aemond said softly. His words were cold and measured, though the underlying anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. 
His gaze drifted toward Daeron, who shifted uncomfortably under the accusation, his guilt clear even before he opened his mouth.
Aegon, however, didn't waste a second. He stalked toward me, fury written in every step. 
His hand shot out, tangling painfully in my hair, yanking me roughly to my feet with a vicious jerk. His breath was hot against my cheek as he leaned in, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
"I wonder what your smug cunt of a mother would think," Aegon hissed, his voice dripping with venom, "if she saw how her precious daughter was being treated by the rightful king." 
He pulled harder, making me wince, but I refused to cry out.
"She would expect nothing less from a usurper like you," I spat, glaring at him with all the contempt I could muster.
Aegon's eyes darkened with fury, and before I could brace myself, the back of his hand struck my face, the force of it sending a sharp sting across my skin. 
The pain was immediate, radiating down to my jaw, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daeron flinch, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he stepped forward instinctively, hands raised in an almost futile gesture of peace. 
His eyes locked on mine, and despite everything—the chaos, the violence—there was still something soft there. 
A silent plea. He hated seeing me like this, hated what his brothers were doing. But he was powerless to stop them. Or, at least, too afraid to try.
"Aegon," Daeron murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stop. Please."
Aegon glanced back at his younger brother, a cruel smile twisting his lips. His grip on my hair tightened. 
"Stop? Why?" He yanked me forward, dragging me toward him as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. "You're the one who betrayed us, Daeron. You should be thanking me for not gutting her on the spot."
Daeron's eyes flashed with something raw—guilt, fear, love. But Aegon's words held him captive as much as they did me.
Aemond stood slowly from his seat, his tall frame casting a long, ominous shadow as he moved closer. His cold, calculating gaze shifted to Daeron. 
"Do not tell me you betrayed us for some bastard girl," he said, his voice dripping with disbelief and disgust. His words were an accusation, and they lingered in the air like poison. 
He stepped closer to Daeron, not just daring, but almost begging him to deny it, to speak some lie that would erase the suspicion from his mind. A beat passed, heavy, suffocating.
Daeron's silence was damning. 
He glanced at me again, and in that moment, I saw everything he couldn't say—his fear for me, the guilt of betraying his family, and the helplessness of knowing he couldn't save us both. 
His fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely contained emotion, but he said nothing. And in his silence, Aemond found his answer.
"Fine," Aegon snarled, shoving me back so hard that I stumbled, falling to the ground with a loud clatter of chains. 
My wrists throbbed where the iron bit into my skin, but I barely registered the pain. 
Aegon loomed over me, his smirk wide and vicious. "You can watch her die tomorrow. Consider it a fair price for your insolence, brother."
"No, please," Daeron's voice cracked, his desperation unmistakable now. He stepped forward again, but Aegon turned away, already done with the conversation.
"You should be grateful I'm giving you a front-row seat," Aegon called over his shoulder, his tone flippant, as though my death were a mere triviality. 
He stalked toward the door, leaving Daeron standing frozen, torn between his family and the woman he cared for.
The room pulsed with unspoken tension, every breath weighed down by the unshakable promise of death. 
Daeron's eyes found mine, pleading, but there was nothing either of us could do.
His love for me was evident, but love had no power here. Not against Aemond and Aegon.
"Brother, listen," Daeron began again, voice cracking under the strain of desperation. He took a tentative step toward Aemond, his body trembling with the weight of it all.
Aemond turned sharply, jabbing a finger into Daeron's chest. 
"Do not say another word," he spat, his voice sharper than the edge of a blade. His single eye burned with barely concealed fury. 
"For now, she is simply a prisoner—chained and forgotten, an afterthought in this war. But if you push me, if you test me, brother, I will throw open those cell doors and let every knight, servant, and man in this city have their fun with the false queen's precious daughter."
His words sliced through the room, venomous and cold. Daeron froze, his face paling as the threat settled in. His lips parted, but no words came out. 
His gaze flickered back to me, and the weight of Aemond's threat crushed any hope that remained.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rising panic in my chest, but the chains felt heavier now, the room colder. Aemond was no longer simply playing a game; this was his final move, and he held all the pieces.
Aemond had always been the calm storm—the silent, calculating force that ruled with a cold fist. I had no illusions about what he was capable of. 
But Daeron... Daeron had been the light, the flicker of hope that perhaps, somewhere, there was still something human left in this war.
"Aemond, please," Daeron's voice was a hoarse whisper, barely holding together. "She's not—"
"Not what?" Aemond sneered, leaning in closer. "Not worth it? Or is it that you think your love for this girl will sway me?"
Daeron's silence only fueled Aemond's cruel smile. "You've always been weak, Daeron," Aemond said, his voice laced with disdain. "Weak and foolish."
The words hung heavy between them, and Daeron's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Think on it," Aemond said as he turned to leave, his tone mocking. "By morrow, it may be too late to save her—or yourself."
The door creaked open, the dim light from the corridor casting long shadows across the room. 
For a moment, Daeron stood there, trembling, caught between the desire to act and the crushing weight of his brother's will. 
His eyes flicked to me one last time, filled with sorrow and guilt before he turned and followed Aemond out. 
The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the cold, dark silence, my heart pounding in my chest. 
The promise of death—or worse—loomed closer now, more real than ever before.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
"Mother, please," Daeron pleaded, his voice cracking as he sank to his knees before Alicent. 
His hands clutched desperately at the hem of her skirts, his tear-filled eyes searching her face for any glimmer of hope. 
Alicent stood still, her fingers trembling as they rested on the arms of her chair. She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking away from his, unwilling to meet the depth of his despair.
"Daeron," she sighed, her voice heavy with the weight of truths she wished she could deny, "they do not listen to me any longer." 
The admission tasted bitter on her tongue.
Aegon and Aemond had drifted far beyond her reach, carried away by power and ambition.
"But Aemond will kill her," Daeron insisted, his voice rising with panic. 
He scrambled to his feet, his hands gripping her arms now, begging her to intervene, to be the shield between Aemond's cruelty and the woman he loved. 
Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill, and the sheer desperation in his face broke her heart.
Alicent pulled away, her movements sharp and swift as she turned from him, unable to bear the sight of his anguish. 
She crossed the room, pacing, her hand unconsciously rising to her mouth as she chewed nervously at her thumb, a habit long thought forgotten but resurfacing now under the weight of their reality. 
"You know what Aemond is," she muttered, the words half-spoken to herself. 
There was no controlling her second son anymore; he had grown into a storm—cold, relentless, and unpredictable.
"Do not let him," Daeron's voice broke as he followed her, his tears finally spilling down his cheeks. He reached out, his hand trembling as it touched her arm. "I beg you."
Alicent froze, turning to face her son, her eyes softening. She exhaled deeply, her own heart torn. 
With a gentle hand, she brushed away a tear from his cheek, her fingers lingering on his face, wishing she could offer him some comfort, some promise. But there was none to give. 
"If Aemond has set his mind to it," she whispered, "there is nothing I can do." Her voice cracked, the burden of her helplessness almost too much to bear.
"Rhaenyra will not let this go," Daeron warned, his voice thick with the fear of what was to come. 
The mention of her name made Alicent flinch, her fingers twitching as the ghost of old memories washed over her—memories of friendship now soured by blood, betrayal, and bitter rivalry. 
Rhaenyra's name brought a dull ache to her chest, a reminder of everything that had been lost between them.
"She will not," Alicent whispered, her eyes drifting to the window. 
She gazed out at the sky, her mind flashing with images of her once closest friend. 
The hurt, the pain, the love that had been twisted into something unrecognizable. It all felt like a distant dream, yet the consequences of those shattered bonds were now painfully real.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
It all seemed to be happening too fast.
One moment, Alicent had been trying to make her sons see reason, pleading with Aemond and Aegon to abandon their cruel paths, to halt this madness before it spiralled further out of control. 
But reason had fallen on deaf ears. And now, in the next breath, Daeron was kneeling before me, his trembling hands wrapped tightly around mine, his soft words a quiet comfort amidst the storm. 
Silent tears spilt down my cheeks as the heavy reality of my fate sank in.
"Move," Aemond's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. His footsteps echoed as he approached, the sound chilling in its finality. 
He stood above us, his cold eye gleaming with malice, his lips curled into a smug smirk. But Daeron refused to budge, his grip on my hands firm, as if he could anchor me to safety as if love alone could protect us from the inevitable.
"No," Daeron whispered, shaking his head, his knuckles white as he clung to me. His eyes were wide with fear and defiance, staring up at his brother, silently pleading for mercy.
Aemond's smirk faltered, replaced by cold fury. With a single nod, he signalled to the Kingsguard. 
Two of them stepped forward without hesitation, seizing Daeron by the arms. He struggled violently in their grasp, his body thrashing as they dragged him away from me.
"Let me go!" Daeron shouted, his voice hoarse, fighting with every ounce of strength he had. 
His eyes remained locked on mine, desperate, terrified. The sight of his suffering twisted something deep inside me, and tears streamed freely down my face.
Aemond watched it all with cold detachment. 
Slowly, almost lazily, he unsheathed his sword, the metallic ring of the blade echoing ominously through the room. He stepped forward, the tip of the sword gleaming in the dim light as he approached me.
"Any final words, niece?" Aemond asked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he towered over me. 
He stared down at me, his eye alight with cruel amusement, savouring every moment of my helplessness.
I lifted my head, staring up at him defiantly, though my body trembled with fear. 
"When my mother comes," I spat, my voice trembling but filled with fury, "I hope she brings the wrath of the seven hells with her."
Aemond chuckled, his lips curling into a mocking smile. 
"Such a fiery spirit," he mused, tutting as if I were a misbehaving child. "But you'll soon learn that fire burns out quickly, especially when faced with the cold steel of reality." 
He stood over me, his sword raised high. His cold, calculating eye bored into me, devoid of remorse, devoid of mercy. 
Every second seemed to stretch into eternity as I knelt there, bound by chains, my heart pounding in my chest.
Behind him, Daeron struggled violently against the Kingsguard restraining him, his voice ragged and desperate as he shouted, "Aemond, please! Don't do this!"
But Aemond's attention never wavered. He was relentless and unmoved by his brother's pleas. He had already made up his mind. 
This was his justice—cold, unforgiving, absolute.
I stared up at him, my breath shaky, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. 
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, different tears but I refused to let him see me cry. If this was my end, I would meet it with strength. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
Behind Aemond, I could hear Daeron's anguished cries, the sound of his body thrashing as he fought with every ounce of strength he had. His voice cracked, breaking with each plea. 
"Aemond, no!" His eyes, wild and desperate, searched for mine through the chaos.
And then, in that final moment, I locked eyes with Daeron, my heart breaking at the sight of him—tears streaking his face, his lips trembling, torn between helpless rage and soul-crushing sorrow.
Our love had always been a quiet thing, hidden in stolen glances and whispered promises, but now, with death so close, there was no need for silence. 
I didn't have the strength to speak, not with Aemond's sword poised to strike, but I mouthed the words I had longed to say out loud for so long.
I love you.
Daeron's face crumpled in anguish, his knees buckling beneath him as the weight of those words sank in. 
The Kingsguard dragged him backwards, but his eyes never left mine. 
He screamed my name, the sound a raw, broken cry that echoed through the chamber, reverberating with his pain. "No!"
But Aemond didn't hesitate. He smirked, his lips curling in satisfaction as he brought his sword down with brutal finality. 
The cold steel sliced through the air, and in one swift motion, it cut through me.
Pain exploded in my chest, sharp and overwhelming, but it was brief. The world blurred around me, and for a moment, everything slowed. 
My body crumpled to the ground, the chains clattering loudly as I collapsed, the cold stone beneath me stealing the last warmth from my skin. 
Blood pooled beneath me, thick and dark, seeping out in slow, spreading tendrils.
Aemond stood above me, his sword still in hand, watching the life drain from me with a detached, almost clinical gaze. 
He had done what he set out to do—delivered his judgment, his so-called justice. And now, to him, it was over.
But behind him, Daeron was anything but composed. He fell to his knees as the Kingsguard finally released him, their grip no longer necessary. 
His body trembled with shock, the horror of what had just happened crashing down on him. His eyes, wide with disbelief, stared at my lifeless form, and for a moment, it seemed as if the world had gone silent. 
The sound of his own breath caught in his throat, choked by grief.
"No..." Daeron whispered, his voice small, broken. He crawled toward me, his hands trembling as they reached out, gently touching my blood-stained cheek. 
"No, no, no..." His words came out in a rush, frantic, as if he could somehow undo what had been done as if his desperate whispers could bring me back.
But I was gone.
Daeron cradled me in his arms, pulling my limp body against his chest. His tears fell freely now, soaking into my hair as he rocked back and forth, whispering my name over and over, as though the repetition could summon me back to life. 
His hands, stained with my blood, clung to me, refusing to let go.
"Aemond!" Daeron's voice rose suddenly, hoarse and raw with fury. He looked up at his brother, hatred blazing in his tear-filled eyes. "How could you?" 
His voice was a broken snarl, filled with more pain than rage. He trembled violently, barely able to contain the torrent of emotions ripping through him. "How could you..."
Aemond sheathed his sword with a slow, deliberate motion, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at Daeron. 
"It had to be done," he said, his voice calm, as if the weight of my death meant nothing to him. As if it were just another move in a grander game.
Daeron's entire body shook with the force of his grief, his hands clenching into fists as he held me tighter. 
His heart shattered, torn between love and the devastating realization that no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he fought, he could not protect me from Aemond's cruelty.
"You—" Daeron choked on his words, his face twisted in agony. "You've killed her... You've destroyed everything."
Aemond turned away, his back now to his brother, and without a word, he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a final, resounding echo.
Daeron was left alone in the suffocating silence, clutching my lifeless body to his chest, his tears falling in steady streams. His voice was gone now, replaced by soft, broken sobs that filled the empty chamber. 
He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hitching as he whispered, "I love you... I love you..."
But it was too late.
And as the night stretched on, Daeron remained there, shattered and alone, the weight of his loss crushing him from the inside out. 
The woman he had loved was gone, and no matter how many tears he shed, no matter how many promises he had whispered, there was no bringing me back. 
The hollow ache of regret and sorrow would haunt him for the rest of his days.
In that moment, Daeron knew he had lost more than just me—he had lost himself.
A/n - Sorry this took so long but I hope it's ok I got a tad bit carried away hence the word count!
Daeron tag list - @alyssa-dayne
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dark-frosted-heart · 3 days
Text
Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)
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This is the from the 4th anniversary event.
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 
(—I didn’t expect this)
Alter!Keith: You don’t even look sleepy.
Emma: You’ll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.
Alter!Keith: So you’re saying you didn’t cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?
Emma: Well…I wouldn’t say cry, but rather, I’ve gotten so angry I thought I’d explode.
Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Would’ve been interesting to see you rage.
Moonlight dimly lit the room.
Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.
The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. 
Alter!Keith: … Sorry.
(...For what happened back at the estate, I’m guessing)
(I have a feeling he’s not used to apologizing)
The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.
Emma: Just words?
Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?
Emma: I want you to sleep.
Alter!Keith: You’re still worried about these dark circles? Too bad I’m not feeling sleepy.
Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.
Alter!Keith: I’m still not done dealing with those people, so there’ll be trouble if he comes to the front. …Well, causing trouble would be convenient for me.
Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldn’t sense his true intentions.
Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.
(Wicked Prince Keith didn’t have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)
(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)
(So much more than I could ever imagine…He only lives for the nice Prince Keith)
(Probably never for himself)
I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.
(I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t do anything to help, even when I’m right beside him)
(But I don’t want to keep being someone that can’t do anything)
Alter!Keith: Hm?
I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.
I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keith’s ears.
Alter!Keith: What are you doing?
Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax. There’s too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away. …Please let me at least do this.
(I want to help lift this burden, even if it’s just for now)
Alter!Keith: …
Prince Keith’s sigh melted into the dimly lit room.
Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.
Alter!Keith: That guy’s future fiancee sure is softhearted.
Emma: …How did you know?
Alter!Keith: You don’t look like the type to invite someone else to your room when you’re engaged.
A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.
Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the future… Is that guy finally smiling?
(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)
Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.
Emma: …Yes, he’s smiling. So, so much. Every day, from morning to night, he’ll smile on various occasions. Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyes…Ah, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cute… And before we sleep—mmph.
Alter!Keith: I didn’t tell you to gush about it.
(Hmm, I was doing that)
I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.
Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like he’s happy…else there’d be no point in me being around. … That guy came back.
(Ah…)
Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.
Alter!Keith: Huh…me?
Emma: Of course.
Alter!Keith: What…I didn’t disappear?
(Ah, I thought so)
~~ Flashback ~~
Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.
~~ End flashback ~~
(It’s been on his mind this whole time)
(The way he said it, he assumed he didn’t exist anymore in the future)
Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, it’s only natural for him to think that way.
(But I don’t want him to assume that)
(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)
Emma: In the future, I’m engaged to both Prince Keiths. I love you both and you’re both more important to me than anything else.
Alter!Keith: …
Emma: That’s why I don’t want you to think you’re someone that will disappear. I won’t let you think that. I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.
When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.
It looked like he believed me.
Emma: I’m still new to it, so there’s only so much I can do to help you. But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.
Alter!Keith: You’ve already done enough. Actually, I… Your words saved me.
The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.
--
(Mmm…I’m in…)
Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.
When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keith’s room.
(Everything that just happened was all a dream)
(It was a pretty realistic dream…my heart still aches a bit)
Alter!Keith: Thought you weren’t in your own room. You were here instead.
Emma: Ah…Prince Keith.
(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)
Alter!Keith: …
(What’s wrong?)
When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.
He awkwardly patted my head.
Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.
Emma: Ah…Well, I was remembering the dream I had.
Alter!Keith: …That so. Then nothing happened to you.
Emma: Sorry for worrying you.
Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.
Emma: Eep!
After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.
The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.
(Back then and now, Prince Keith’s kindness never changed)
Emma: Um, so your official duties…?
Alter!Keith: I’m done with them.
Emma: You finished pretty early today.
Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you. Since it’s your day off, there’s no point in my working that hard in the first place.
(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)
(...So you want to spend time with me?)
Emma: Mnn…
He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.
It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.
We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.
(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)
(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)
Warmth spread in my chest.
(I want this to keep being the norm for him)
With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.
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ancha-aus · 2 days
Text
RealAgeAU Drabble - Training
I am back with this AU :D @spotaus
This drabble is a lot earlier than the last few drabbles. shortly after Nightmare's first birthday, and kidnapping.
The gang decides they should really start to learn more about their new powers :3
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Cross nods as he crosses his arms “You guys ready?”
Dust looks very unhappy to be up already, Horror is next to him trying to get him to stand up. Killer just grins and salutes “Yes sir!” and he throws in a wink.
Cross ignores the obvious flirt as he tells his own body to cool it. Not the time nor place.
Cross takes a deep breath and continues on with what he was saying “Good! It is time we do something which we should have done long ago.”
Killer raises a hand “Make out more?”
Dust just keeps laying in the dirt. Not making a single move to get up “We already do that now.”
Killer nods “We should still do it more.”
Cross sputters and glares “Training! We need to train!” They had tugged Nightmare in for a nap in a nice warm little nest in a sunny spot nearby them. He is still sound asleep and hopefully he will sleep right through this all.
Cross has high hopes for that as Nightmare seemed to hardly wake up whenever they made noise.
Cross glares at the two on the ground “I am serious!”
Horror chuckles and stands by his side “Calm Cookie.” And he rubs his shoulder and Cross feels part of him melt as Horror smiles at him. God what did he do to deserve them all?
Cross feels reassured and turns back to Killer and Dust his two more unmotivated mates, oooh he is still not over the fact he can call them his mates now! “I am serious! We need to practise our new powers!” especially with Nightmare suddenly getting new powers as well. They need to be prepared.
If… if anything like that kidnapping happens again… Cross had been so lucky his powers just… worked with him instead of doing the normal uncontrollable flickering in and out of view. They need to practise this and work on it! They need to be ready!
Killer sighs as he leans on his hand “How do we plan to do that exactly? I don’t have something that we can just work with without going around town and telling lies and hoping it doesn’t backfire. And Dusty still shocks us when he gets overcharged.”
Dust just points at Killer as if to say ‘what he said.’
Horror hums “May be hard… but we need to practise and learn. Having the powers and magic won’t be useful until we can control them and know their limits.”
Cross nods “We can’t count on powers we can’t control. Even if we can’t control it we need to at least understand our limits a bit better.”
Killer pouts “You guys are my limit.” Then he grins and winks as he finger guns at them “And my weakness.”
Dust groans from the ground as he just covers his face with his arm “Can’t believe I agreed to this madness.”
Killer grins and pokes his cheek “You did! And now you are stuck with me!” Killr sounds very happy about it.
Cross glares “Guys I am serious! What is Nightmare gets taken again and we can’t do anything because we don’t understand our powers!?”
Killer’s face grows dark as he crosses his arms “Won’t happen again.”
Cross glares “We don’t know that. That is why we need to practise and learn.” He checks his mates. Killer sighs but gives in with a pout and a nod. Dust may not have moved but he is still here which counts. Horror had been down for this idea from the start.
Cross nods “Good!”
Dust speaks from the ground “How exactly?”
Cross frowns as he thinks “well… we need to figure out what triggers the powers… So try some stuff…” He stands up taller “I will go first!” It is easy! He did this before. He knows how to train and practise new skills or ideas for moves. He just needs to get in the right mindset.
Horror nods and joins Killer and Dust, forcing Dust to sit up right as well.
Cross takes a few deep breaths. Something about his magic makes him able to be invisible. Lets try that first.
He thinks about hiding. About staying out of sight. About following people quietly.
Cross opens a socket but sees this three boyfriends still watching him. Okay. He is still visible.
Mmh.
Cross closes his sockets and thinks. Hiding. Being invisible. Not being noticed.
No exclaim that it worked.
Cross stops as he taps his chin in thought. He is doing something wrong with this. He doesn’t even feel his magic react to his request.
Killer leans on a hand as he watches “No luck?”
Cross shakes his skull “Not yet… It doesn’t react to me thinking and wanting to hide or anything like it… I figured that would be a trigger at least.”
Horror frowns “Nothing?”
Cross sighs as he rubs his neck “Nothing.”
Dust yawns as he watches “Maybe it wasn’t hiding. You weren’t exactly hiding when you went after those assholes who took Nightmare.”
Cross frowns and shakes his skull “I was thinking about following them and not being noticed.” Neither worked.
Dust yawns “I would say you were doing a bit more than just being not noticed or following them but sure. It is a start.”
Killer shoots Dsut a look “I mean. We always notice him anyway.”
Dust snorts and nods “Very true.”
Horror looks at both of them disapproving but shoots him an apologetic smile.
Cross however knows he has a frown on his face. Thinking back to when his powers tended to activate… Generally it was when he wanted to hide or not be seen. But when he thought about more context to when he wanted that. Then it only happened when he was already nervous about something. Normally in some way related to them being discovered and found. Or more specifically, Nightmare being found.
But when it reacted? When it actually did what he wanted and needed? It was when he was focused on hunting down the pieces of filth that took their babybones…
Cross takes another deep breath and focuses. He thinks back to that mad dash. That rushed feeling. The need to get his baby back to his side right that second.
That is when this power had answered. That is when he had had most control. Without even needing to think. It had moved and done what he wanted without having to focus.
It isn’t about focus.
It isn’t about control.
It is about trust.
Cross forces his shoulders to relax. Focusses on the trust he feels in his mates. The trust in himself to do what he can. That he is able.
“Cross you are doing it!”
Cross opens a socket and watches as patches of him are hidden and others aren’t. It doesn’t feel like being gone or being unnoticed… It feels like parts of him are covered in a thin blanket. Cross mentally grabs it and just imagines wrapping himself with it.
And he is gone from view.
“Cross you did it!” Killer cheers “Way to go Crossy!”
Cross however has no control. It is like how he trusts his body to catch him when he jumps off something. How he trusts his body to run and catch him. How he trusts his movement.
It isn’t just a power he can lead or learn to control. It is different. It is like his body.
Cross takes a few steps around. Noticing that he is completely silent as well. huh. Strange. Still Cross speaks just to test “Seems like it isn’t only sight. My steps are much more silent than I am used to.”
Dust tilts his skull confused “Well.. .when you speak we can hear you just fine…”
Horror hums “Like when you want to speak you are obvious. But otherwise hidden.”
Cross shakes his skull and his mates blink confused at him. Cross glances down and sees his is visible again. Huh. As soon as he wanted-no, tried to communicate nonverbal he became visible again.
It isn’t focus. It isn’t thought.
Cross looks up at them “It is instinct.”
Horror, Killer and Dust all share confused looks before looking at Cross.
Cross shakes his skull as he tries to put his thoughts into words “It is instincts. These powers? It is more than just power or magic or movements. It is more than skill. It is about…” he can’t find the words. It is so strange. He is used to having to practise and work and try again and again. Failing over and over until you finally get the basics and then you work from there.
The powers are still finicky. Unpredictable. But they are there. Ready to work at just the right… need? Want? Wish? Hope? Anything for them to work.
Killer hums thoughtful “huh… maybe that is why my stuff just… acts the whole time? Because when I tell white lies I want people to believe it? So it just does the thing…” He frowns “especially with the woman in fur and mud… explains why she hasn’t tried to sue us yet.”
Dust glares at him “Don’t tempt faith…” but he leans on his leg “Doesn’t explain my stuff… the static just grows a lot… and if I don’t use magic we get another thunder storm situation.”
Horror shakes his skull “it does make sense. You want to protect Nightmare. Be ready. Your magic and body and power work together to have everything it needs to act right away.”
Dust frowns before huffing as he looks to the side “Whatever.”
Cross feels his soul give a little flutter. Can you blame him?! Dust looks so embarrassed wit his tiny blush!
Killer grins as Horror “Your turn H!”
Cross nods and quickly changes places with Horror.
Horror seems to think as he stands there. Considering the ground for a moment before making a pulling motion.
The ground shudders and a tiny piece of ground seems to slowly move over while other ground moves to fill in the space left behind.
Killer sighs as he leans against his knee as he stares “Looking good!”
Cross can’t help but agree. Horror has somehow figured his stuff out just passively. By careful and gentle nudging and feeling the powers out. He hadn’t been able to explain just muttered about moving what felt natural.
Killer had sighed wishfully that he wished he could do that stuff.
Cross for one is happy Killer doesn’t have this power. He would either try to dig a very deep hole or just make a very large tower. Cross isn’t sure which option would be worse.
Horror shrugs as he moves back to the group. He joins them and Dust leans against his side. Staring hard at the ground that moved so effortlessly for Horror.
Cross smiles at Horror “amazing.”
Horror shrugs as he mutters “It is physical. I don’t create or destroy stuff. It is about moving stuff one way and pushing other stuff to fill what is left…” he shrugs.
Dust chuckles as he just leans against Horror “That is amazing…” he stares at his own hand and frowns.
Horror just pulls him closer as Killer leans happily against Dust with a large grin “Your lightning is real cool~” Killer lowers his voice in a purr as he keeps staring at Dust. Cross isn’t sure if Killer is trying to flirt right now, or force Dust to believe what he says even if Killer knows his power doesn’t work against them. Killer just continues to talk when he sees Dust roll his eyes. Killer purrs and just lays on Dust as he purrs at him. Dust looks away from him with a tiny blush.
Killer grins and purrs “So much power. Just at the tips of your fingers. Only thing keeping it from exploding and destroying everything is your control and stubbornness to keep it tempered down~ Yet not once did you ever zap Nighty with it.” Killer grins wider as Dust starts to blush and look embarrassed.
Yeah. Cross gets it. Killer can get intense with his affection… Cross also still gets overwhelmed with it.
Cross is happy they know how to help Dust. It sometimes stings a little that those three had already been so close long before Cross joined them. He notices it with moments like these. When he is lost in what to do or how to act or help and-
Oh no Kiler is watching him.
Killer looks at him critically before grinning and pulling him closer until he is right up against Dust and Killer expends to cover both their laps.
Killer grins at Cross with a clearly mischievous look in his eyes “Great idea Cross! And you figured your stuff out so quickly! You just needed a moment to learn and study your skill and boom! You understand it! and thanks to that we could better understand ours! Fucking brilliant and fucking talented. Skilled beyond believe and you know yourself and your magic so well which just makes this so much more impressive!”
Cross knows he is blushing. He tugs his little bandana up to try and cover part of his face. His bandana had been a gift from the others… because he mentioned how he used to have his own bandana much like blue used to have. And they just got him a new one. It is a nice grey one with purple stripes. It is soft and fuck now he is just more embarrassed as he tries to hide from Killer’s compliments with the very gift his mates gave him!
Horror doesn’t stop it. Instead he just smiles at them with that handsome little smile as Dust and him just have to suffer through the storm of compliments.
Killer grins as he looks so happy as he just stares up at them from his spot of honour “And then you guys just look fucking amazing when we have some time to ourselves as well.”
Cross glares as he feels like his skull will explode and he hisses “Killer. Not with Nightmare so close.”
Killer laughs and winks at them “It is fine. He is asleep anyway-”
A small yawn “Are we cuddling?”
They turn around and spot Nightmare standing next to them. One hand rubbing his sockets while he other is holding unto one of the blankets from his other nest.
Dust is quick to focus on their baby “We are taking a break from practise. You slept well?”
Nightmare yawns again and climbs over Killer to get to the spot where Cross and Dust sit against one another. Nightmare gets to his spot which makes him able to snuggle into both their sides. A happy little hum as he closes his sockets.
Cross carefully takes the little blanket and tugs it around their little child. All cozy and comfortable.
Killer’s purring has only grown in volume as he watches them. Perfectly comfortable to lay across their laps with Nightmare snuggled in against all three of their sides.
Horror pulls them closer and sighs happily “A break sounds perfect.”
Cross laughs and nods. Sure they hadn’t practised much yet but they already got their goal completed. Which was to better understand their powers.
Now? He just wants to enjoy this moment. How comfortable and loved he feels between his mates with their son.
*------------------------*
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lw77 · 1 day
Text
Over and Over (MV x CS)
In this life or the next, Max is determined to keep meeting Carlos, over and over, to follow his tethered half as long as he'll have him.
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Carlos thought back to something Max once said. “We’re soulmates. In our last life, you left me too soon, so I followed. That’s why you’re older now, and I’m younger.” Max had said it so plainly, as if it were absolute truth, sensing the hesitation Carlos never voiced. Every time Carlos felt the tight knot of anxiety form—realising it was Max’s arms he ran to, Max’s hands he clung to, and Max’s gaze that steadied him—those words unravelled the tension.
It was a softness for Max that made his father seethe, a trait he had tried to discipline out of Carlos his whole life. But when his soul was so tightly tethered to Max, pretending otherwise felt impossible.
He thinks back to that now. They're in Barcelona for testing, his home track—the place where Carlos first met Max and where he last sat in a Formula 1 car. Standing at the edge of the track, the sun high and bright, it beats down on Carlos’s back as he watches Max slip into the cockpit. The engines roar to life, and a familiar ache tightens in Carlos’s chest—a mix of pride and something deeper.
The last time he was here, he had stayed in the cockpit, helmet firmly on and head bowed. It was then that he realized he didn’t want to do it anymore. He had only ever stayed for the friends, then because his father wanted him to, and finally because it was the only place their fathers had no choice but to let them meet—bound by teams, contracts, and duties that served as a mask. He had never been the hunter his father wished him to be, never became the driver his father pushed him to be. Too soft. Always too soft to hold any shape his father pressed into him.
He wonders now if he ever truly accepted his dad pushing him into karts because some part of him knew it would lead him to Max. Was it all just fate’s twisted way of bringing them together? How cruel fate was, Carlos sneers, to let him break over and over as his father tried to shape him into someone he wasn’t meant to be. He gave years to the sport—to his father, only for them to chew him up. At least he managed to spit himself out before they could.
Back in the garage, Max prepares for the track, his eyes set with determination. The fluorescent lights cast a soft glow, a halo around him—the same Max who followed Carlos into F1 at seventeen because he always knew what they were.
As if feeling the weight of Carlos’s thoughts, Max’s gaze finds his, and when their eyes meet, he presses a kiss through his helmet to his index finger—I carry you with me.
—----
He’s leaning against the garage, waiting for Max to join him.
"Do you ever wonder if we really lived other lives?" The thought that they've been in each other's orbit far longer than they can imagine—that they've met as soulmates each time—goes unsaid as Carlos murmurs, his words barely audible above the cacophony. But then he remembers the weight of Max's gaze—how it anchors him and makes him feel like he belongs to something bigger than himself. He recalls how at peace he feels in Max's presence, how his heart slowed into a summer calm the first time they met, as if it recognized, before Carlos did, that he was whole. Carlos can't imagine a life without it; he can't envision his soul in any universe not being halved so Max can piece it together.
“Every day,” Max replies, his voice cutting through the noise as he emerges from the garage, wiping sweat from his brow. “I think about all the times we’ve found each other. It’s like we’re destined to collide, over and over.”
Carlos turns, a faint smile easing the tightness in his chest. “Maybe that’s why I can’t let go. No matter how hard I try, amor.” Leaning back against the cool garage, something stirs in his chest—something heavy and unspoken. He tilts his head, feigning confidence, but Max sees through it.
Grinning, Max steps closer, his eyes softening as he cups Carlos’s cheek in his hand, his touch both familiar and grounding. It’s as if he knows what Carlos is afraid to say. “You’re not supposed to let go, remember? Didn’t I tell you? I followed you for a reason. It’s always been you.” Max’s thumb brushes lightly over the dark circles beneath Carlos’s eyes, and Carlos lets his lashes flutter closed, feeling the tension melt under Max’s touch—the only anchor against the tide of anxiousness that threatens to wash over.
“Do you wish I never stopped? That it was still me in the garage next to you?” Carlos whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his vulnerability.
Max’s gaze deepens, and for a moment, the noise of the track fades into the background. “Always,” he admits softly. “But it’s not just about you racing. I want you everywhere, you know? When you’re not here, when I don’t see you—” Max shakes his head, closing his eyes as if whatever he thought is something he doesn’t want to hold onto. “It feels like I imagined all of this. Like I’ll have to chase you into the next life just to see you again.”
Max’s confession hits Carlos like a tidal wave, chest splitting open with the weight of it. His heart surges toward Max—this boy, now a man—ready to carry both of them. He grasps Max’s wrists, his face cradled between Max’s warm hands, and holds his gaze. Max’s fingers trace gently over his features—his brows, cheekbones, and lips—brushing tenderly against the stubble Carlos has been growing. Max’s reverent gaze never wavers, as if he’s memorising every detail, every touch, as if this moment is his last chance to do so.
It churns something deep in Carlos's chest, unaware of how fragile it all feels to Max to finally have him—for them to be together without the threat of either of their fathers looming over them ever again. He remembers when they were still boys under their fathers' guardianship, bound by filial duty and controlled by paternal pride. How the pain of their forced distance clawed at him, reminding him of all the times they could only brush hands or clasp each other’s necks in feigned sportsmanship, desperate for just a moment of warmth—a fleeting chance to soothe the ache of a bond stretched too thin.
Suddenly, it’s like Carlos is the one going 300 km/h, not Max. Carlos who waits on Max’s side of the garage, hand covering his mouth, too scared to watch the TV, too strung out to focus on anything but the data. Heart racing until Max returns, helmet off, healthy, whole—alive. Max is on the other side, speeding around the track, desperate to find him, to know he’s still there, waiting—real.
He presses a kiss to the palms still cradling his face, pulling Max from whichever depth of thought he’d fallen into—I’m here. Max answers his kiss with a gentle press to his hair, and as one hand slips to his neck, he pulls Carlos into him, drawing him closer—You are.
Author's note: This is based on the idea I had and the little blurb I wrote for it yesterday. I may make this multi-chaptered sometime in the future but this is it for now, so enjoy!
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