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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 3 months ago

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Devil's Snare Part.6

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Description: Aemond comforts his new wife when she is rebuffed by the other ladies of the court for her low birth. When the succession to the Lord of the Tides is put to question, an insult from Lucerys Velaryon to his wife prompts Aemond's anger.

Previous part

Writer's note: basically Aemond and Y/N getting accustomed to married life but this part follows ep 1x08 Lord of the Tides. Starting to get into the plot of S1 now.

Crediting @cinderkaliningrad who is a gem and let me use their idea that Aemond would allow those he trusted to be on his left side.

Warnings: female reader, sexual innuendo, angst but also fluff, hurt/comfort, fainting (I would too if I saw Vaemond's head like that) swearing, bit of violence.

Aemond had not thought it possible to experience such happiness as he had in the weeks following his marriage to Y/N. He had never imagined that such unconditional love would be directed towards him, having been largely ignored by his family and feared by members of the court all his life. The slightest touch from Y/N was enough to set his skin alight and he burned for her alone. He was grateful his little wife did not seem to mind the fervour of his affectations, still sometimes feeling like that lonely boy from his youth who'd craved the love of his family to no avail. It filled him with pride to see Y/N wear the dresses he had made for her in varying shades of blue, for her to wear the sapphire necklace he'd had commissioned against the elegant curve of her neck, as if she were carrying a part of him with her. He could never forget her thoughtfulness to match her wedding dress to the sapphire which replaced his eye, which he supposed spoke to a degree of possessiveness in him, but in his mind he belonged to Y/N as much as she did to him. Indeed, it was still the eyepatch she had mended on their initial meeting he continued to favour for it had been her delicate hands that had graced it with her touch, and it was almost as if he could feel her tender caress against his cheek and carry her complete acceptance of him along with him as he wore it.

It filled his heart with joy to see the evidence of her presence in their shared chambers. Though it had been strange for Y/N at first to consider the chambers she had spent months cleaning as her own, and he'd had to stop her several times as he'd caught her tidying and arranging items on his desk as if she were still his handmaiden. With time she had begun to make her own mark on the chambers, a hairbrush here and a ribbon there. He had expressed to her his wish for her to see his chambers as her own and to make any changes she would like. And it pleased him to mark subtle changes and improvements such as the vanity table now positioned close to his desk, holding an assortment of her belongings, to know she had taken him on his word. If it were not for the news that his half sister and her spawn would be arriving to King's Landing in mere days to settle the question of the succession of Driftmark he should be entirely content.

Y/N could scarcely believe that the man she'd been so wary of upon their first meeting could be such a gentle and loving husband. She blushed to think of how affectionate Aemond was with her, always touching her in some way. A hand on her thigh under the table as they broke their fast with Helaena each morning, an arm wrapped around her waist as they walked in the gardens of the Red Keep, reaching for her leg to drape it across his body each night and pull her as close to him as possible as they slept. Aemond seemed to crave her touch as if it were the very air he breathed and she thought that it provided him a degree of comfort that had always been denied him, each caress an assurance that she loved him as he loved her, that they were two souls intertwined as one.

He had been determined from the first that she should see his chambers as their chambers going forward and that he wished for her to make any changes she liked, whatever the cost. It had been a challenge at first to adapt to the drastic change of her status upon their marriage and to feel comfortable considering Aemond's chambers as her own. But she noticed the ghost of a smile lighting Aemond's features each time he saw one of her belongings on a side table or on his desk. It was only when he explained what it meant to him, that she were truly his, that she began to accede to his wishes and make her small mark upon their shared space. It had been Helaena who had convinced her of her need for a vanity table to house all of the gifts Aemond insisted on bringing her. Feeling that it was too great an expense and encroachment on Aemond's space, she had prevaricated on the subject for a time.

But before long it became essential she should have her own space as every surface in their shared chambers became littered with trinkets Aemond thought she might like. She noted his proclivity for gifting her dresses and jewels in shades of blue to match his sapphire, all of which she wore with pride, knowing the private significance the colour held for him. She had been nervous as carpenters had moved the vanity to their chambers and positioned it close by Aemond's desk, concerned it took up a greater space than she'd been anticipating. But Aemond had smiled at her so brightly upon seeing it, she was glad she had risked it.

Despite the blissful beginnings of their marriage, Y/N could not shake the sadness she felt at the continued judgement she felt from her fellow courtiers. She had tried to speak with the other ladies and befriend them if she could but had been met with only cold politeness, icy looks, and murmurs they either did not think she could hear or did not care to hide. She was aware Aemond could not spend every moment with her and she had to make her own way, but she began to worry that in time even he might regret their union and be ashamed of his choice, since she had failed to forge a place for herself at court. She felt almost like a shadow, relegated to the peripheries of courtly life, as she succumbed to her own dark thoughts. Before Y/N could stop them, tears started cascading down her face and she quickly shifted to the edge of the bed, trying to muffle her sniffles with her arms so as not to wake her husband. She did not wish to bother him with her concerns.

Aemond blinked awake confusedly, trying to ascertain what had woken him. His fingers grasped at air as he sought out Y/N, the sound of muffled cries snapping him out of his dazed state as he turned to find her curled up at the very edge of the bed, crying into her arms. His chest restricted at the sound, heart falling at the thought of his wife being so upset and trying to conceal it from him. Shifting closer to her he wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her to face him, gently pulling her towards his chest. Y/N's fingers automatically curled against his heart. "What is it, my love?"

Y/N sniffled but, he was glad to see, did not reject the comfort he offered as she placed her face in the crook of his neck.

"I did not mean to wake you." He had to tilt his head down to hear her as her voice was muffled against his skin, and he tried not to pay attention to the way her soft lips grazed his collarbone.

Aemond shushed her gently. "I would not have you rebuke yourself. I wish you to always feel safe coming to your husband with your concerns."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath.

"The other courtiers don't accept me. I fear they never will."

Aemond felt anger course through him, if some bastardly courtier had insulted his lady he would have their tongue.

"Tell me who has caused your tears, my sweet girl. I'll have their head."

Y/N placed a delicate kiss to his shoulder.

"I would not have that on my conscience Aemond. Though I appreciate the sentiment. I cannot find a place for myself with the other ladies of the court. They are as polite as they need to be but keep me at a distance and I know how they speak of me when they think I cannot hear. It makes me feel very alone."

Aemond tightened his arms around her. He had known what it was to be lonely since childhood, felt the gaping hole festering within him until he met Y/N, and he hated that she should ever have felt that way. Kissing the crown of her head, he rubbed his hand up and down her spine. "You are not alone, nuha prumia. It does not matter what they think, you are my princess. Spend your time with me instead."

Pulling her away from his chest so he could see her face he kissed her tear stained cheeks. "I always want you close to me. Have I not told you as much? Come with me to the training yard tomorrow."

He peppered her face with kisses, planting them against her eyelids as they fluttered closed, her nose, the corner of the mouth, his kisses growing more haphazard as Y/N let out a giggle. Smiling at her, Aemond brushed the hair that stuck to her face back. "That's my girl. Pay them no mind. You are worth more than the lot of them combined."

Y/N smiled at him with a watery smile "I think your mother and the other nobles might have something to say about you shirking your duties to be with me. I cannot always be joined to you at your hip."

Aemond smirked, grasping her hip and pulling her closer, causing her to gasp "I beg to differ. Indeed I forbid you to part from my side."

Y/N laughed in response to his antics and Aemond delighted in having elicited the sweet sound from her.

"I love you, Aemond."

His gaze softened and he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. "And I love you."

Y/N snuggled back into his chest and eventually her breathing slowed so Aemond was sure she had fallen back to sleep. Stroking her hair, he considered what he could do to make the other courtiers more accepting of his wife so she should not feel so lonely when he was not by her side. Perhaps he could discuss it with his mother, she might be better placed to select some ladies as his wife's companions. He had long since grown accustomed to the stares and whispers of the nobles as he passed them. The one-eyed Prince they called him. And he could care less for their opinions, but it was clear that Y/N did and anything that mattered to her mattered to him.

Only a few days later Y/N was stunned when several ladies of the court introduced themselves to her, one taking her arm to guide her over to their party. She was not used to such friendliness and was more than a little suspicious, but she enjoyed conversing with the ladies and thought them sincere in their offer of friendship. Y/N could not but assume that Aemond had had some hand in this new development given his inquisitive line of questioning about her day later that evening. Although she felt a small degree of embarrassment at needing his assistance even to forge friendships at court, she was gladdened at the prospect of company and was grateful for his attentiveness to her needs.

Aemond was relieved to see his wife's mood improve day by day, and that she had taken to the cohort of ladies his mother had singled out as potential companions for her. He enjoyed hearing her speak animatedly of her day each evening, as it seemed to him that she was beginning to feel more comfortable with her elevated position. He could nor bear it if marrying him had cost her her happiness. The corner of his lip quirked up at the sounds of children giggling as he turned the corner to his sister's chambers, hoping to find his wife in the knowledge that she spent so much of her time with Helaena and her children. He wished to distract himself from his half sister's impending arrival the next day, knowing he would have to face the tormentors of his childhood oncemore.

The Prince's heart leapt at the sight that met him as he entered Helaena's chambers. Y/N's face was flushed with laughter as she carried Jahaerys on her back, bearing him where he pointed, his twin Jahaera in a fit of laughter at them both all the while. His smile broadened as he watched his wife interact with his little niece and nephew. A passing image of Y/N holding their own child swept across his mind. He had not thought of fatherhood before, but he felt his heart swell at the prospect of having a little Y/N running around. He knew he would love them fiercely. When Jahaerys yanked on strands of Y/N's hair as if they were reigns on a horse and he saw her wince minutely, he stepped in to rescue his wife. Plucking his nephew off Y/N's back he placed him gently down by his sister before ruffling his silver hair. "Daor, play gently little nephew."

Y/N turned to him at feeling the weight removed from her back, her own smile broadening at the sight of him. "Husband."

Aemond had not yet tired of hearing his beloved address him as her husband, indeed he did not think he ever would.

"Wife."

Helaena's voice broke through his reverie as he found himself lost gazing at his beautiful wife.

"Oh good, you're here Aemond. Let me show you my new pet."

He had to tear his eye from Y/N's face to allow Helaena to pull him towards whatever new creature she'd adopted.

Aemond was sparring with Ser Criston when he spotted the unmistakable brown hair and distinctly non Targaryen features of his nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys from across the training yard. He threw himself into the duel with increased ferocity as they approached to watch, eager to show them he would not be such an easy target now he was grown, all the while mindful of his Lady wife amongst the circle of spectators. As Cole's mace shattered the wood of his shield he carelessly tossed it aside, swinging at him and looking for any openings in the Knight's stance. Turning to clash his sword against Cole's mace, he wrenched it from his grip and had his sword pointed at his throat in seconds to the cheers of the onlookers and, he noted with a satisfied smirk, the wary expressions of his nephews.

"Well done, my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about Tourneys." Aemond made sure to keep his eye trained on his nephews as he spoke.

"Have you come to train nephews?" A fight would be little challenge, but he could not resist taunting them with his own proficiency in his swordsmanship. A true Targaryen prince should have mastery of the sword.

Not a moment later a horn sounded, announcing the arrival of the Sea Snake's brother and his entourage. Sheathing his sword, Aemond went to Y/N's side, wrapping an arm around her waist as she stood on tiptoe to press a tender kiss against his cheek. "Well done, husband." He smiled affectionately at her before returning his gaze to Vaemond Valeryon, his mouth upturned though his eye held no mirth as the lord levelled Lucerys with a piercing glare. It would serve the bastard right to lose his inheritance. He was glad that Y/N had not seemed to notice the tension that crackled off him, not wishing her to be privy to the darker turnings of his mind when it came to this particular side of his House.

Y/N stood by Helaena and her husband as Lord Vaemond made his petition for his right to Driftmark. She was surprised by the brazenness of his allusions to the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra's children, but admittedly their features were clearly not those of Targaryens like her husband. She discreetly studied Rhaenyra's sons, unable to stop herself from taking an immediate dislike to them despite never having spoken a word to either. She did not think she could ever forgive them their treatment of Aemond. As Rhaenyra took Vaemond's place to make her own petition, heads snapped up at the sight of the heavy doors of the throne room opening, followed by a knight announcing the King's presence. Y/N had only met the King once and it had been an unpleasant experience, which left her shrinking into Aemond's side presently. He had tried to introduce her to his father but the King's illness seemed to have addled his mind and he alternated between rebuking Aemond for the match or forgetting who she was entirely. Y/N did not think it right that he should be so judgemental of Aemond's choices when he had scarcely acknowledged him his whole life, instead favouring his nephew's begotten out of wedlock. She did not like to judge Rhaenyra, but she hated the double standard. King Viserys stumbled with great difficulty towards the throne, mounting the steps only with the aid of his brother Prince Daemon, who struck Y/N as an intimidating figure.

She felt Aemond tense beside her as the King called on the Princess Rhaenys to express Lord Corly's wishes, ultimately asserting the validity of Lucery's claim to the Driftwood throne. Y/N subtly brushed her arm against Aemond's in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He had spoken little of his nephews since their visit to King's Landing had been announced, but she felt his discontent in his silence nonetheless. She supposed that to Aemond Lucerys losing his inheritance of Driftmark might in some way make up for the loss of her husband's eye, and she could understand his dissapointment now. She hadn't counted on Lord Vaemond taking such a belligerent stand against the King himself, jumping as his voice boomed across the throne room.

"They are bastards!"

Her eyes flitted up to the face of the King, who looked positively murderous.

"I will have your tongue for that."

She regretted looking back to Vaemond to garner his reaction as Prince Daemon unsheathed his sword with lightning rapidity and cleaved Vaemond's head off, leaving the ghastly sight of a tongue lolling out of an empty neck socket.

"He can keep his tongue."

She shrieked and turned her face into her husband's chest as he moved to shield her and Helaena from the gorey scene. Y/N had never seen such violence before and felt physically sick as she recalled the squelching sounds that had followed Vaemond's beheading, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in an attempt to fend off the nausea. Her actions were to no avail as her stomach churned and she began to feel light headed, swaying slightly where she stood.

Aemond, like everyone else who'd witnessed Daemon's act of brutality, was shocked by the escalation to violence. And yet he could not help admiring his uncle for his daring and loyalty to his Lady wife. He must know surely that his nephew's were in fact bastards and Vaemond had only spoken the truth. He did regret that his own wife and sister had witnessed the spectacle. Not anticipating Daemon's actions, he had not turned quickly enough to block their view. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked down at Y/N to find her looking positively green as she swayed on her feet. Checking that his sister was well, he took a firm hold of his wife's elbows and led her quickly from the throne room. Directing her to a bench just outside the chamber so she could sit, he knelt before her and caught her torso as she fell forward onto him. Aemond held her head against his shoulder as she breathed deeply trying to ward off her nausea.

"I apologise, I'm acting silly."

Aemond would not hear of it. Y/N, like his sister, was a gentle soul and he would never have wished her to see such violence. He stroked her hair, relieved to see colour returning to her cheeks as she continued to sit and breathe deeply.

"It is I who should be apologising on behalf of my House. You should never have seen such brutality. Daemon is a rogue with no care for the sensibilities of ladies."

Y/N laughed softly but it concerned him how weak the sound was.

"Do you know before I met you I overheard some handmaidens gossiping about how you wore your eyepatch so as not to upset the ladies of the court. I thought it very chivalrous of you at the time. Is that true?"

Aemond's heart was warmed to know that his beloved had thought of him so positively even before they had met and he had fallen for her. She was of course correct, he did not wish to disturb any of the ladies of the court with his wound but was grateful to have found the one lady who would not shrink from him.

"That may have been so at one time and it gladdens my heart to know you think your husband chivalrous. But I fear I must disappoint you, my love."

Y/N's brows furrowed in confusion as she looked at him quizically. Thankfully her breathing had somewhat returned to normal and she seemed to be feeling much better, no longer slumped against him but sitting up straight. He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.

"There is only one lady I think of now."

Y/N was nervous as she chatted idly with Helaena, her eyes continuously flitting from her husband as he stood by Aegon to the other end of the table where Lucerys Velaryon was seated. It was a cause of anxiety for her that they should be seated directly opposite one another. She only hoped this evening's dinner would not descend into violence with tensions brimming to the surface. As the King was carried in by several knights, Y/N went to take her seat by Helaena to the right of Aemond, and was surprised when he gently directed her to the seat on his left instead. Y/N had quickly realised that Aemond preferred her to remain on his right side with his good eye so he could see her, always switching sides with her as they'd walked through the gardens of the Keep. She thought it sweet that he always wished to have her in his eyeline, but it saddened her that this was necessary.

Aemond seemed so capable that it was easy to forget his sight impairment, and she couldn't help the animosity that rose up in her towards Lucerys Velaryon as the perpetrator of the act which had cost her husband his eye, even if he was but a child at the time. As such, it seemed strange indeed to Y/N that Aemond should specifically want her to sit on his left side. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his jaw clenched slightly, so she did not question it for the moment.

She cast a glance towards the other end of the table when she heard her name whispered quietly along with the words "wife" and "handmaiden." Heat rose to her cheeks and out of the corner of her eye she saw Aemond stiffen as he turned the full force of his stare on his nephews. He must must have heard their mutterings and she could not help feeling embarassed and dejected, as if she were an outsider intruding on a family affair. Aemond placed his hand palm upwards on the table, holding it out to her in invitation. As she placed hers in his she noticed he did not avert his gaze from Lucerys though he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. The sound of a chair scraping silenced the whispers as the King rose to address his family. Y/N's mouth fell open briefly as he pulled his mask from his face, revealing the gnarled cheeks and hollow of his eye socket, though she quickly schooled her features so as not to cause offense. She watched Aemond's face carefully as his father spoke, his expression softening as King Viserys pleaded for an end to the fractious infighting that plagued the two halves of his family. Y/N felt the tension easing in her shoulders as Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra toasted to one another. Perhaps this evening would go smoothly after all.

This hope was short lived however as not a moment later Jacaerys was on his feet, eyes blazing in Aegon's direction, for what reason she knew not. Aemond released her hand a moment later and was also on his feet, staring pointedly at Jacaerys. The animosity was palpable between them, as if Aemond was daring him to have the courage of his conviction. The young Prince looked fearful of Aemond and, clearing his throat gave an awkward speech before sitting down. Y/N reclaimed Aemond's hand and he reluctantly sat back down as well. The intimidating and cold front Aemond was fronting was not a side of her husband Y/N was used to seeing, though she had been all too aware how willing he was to protect those he loved. She found his quiet defence of his brother admirable.

"Come, let us have some music." Minstrels immediately started playing at the Hand of the King's command. She startled as a hand appeared in front of her, her eyes tracing the path of the owner's arm to be met with the face of Prince Jacaerys. Y/N had little experience dancing, but the Prince looked sincere and she did not wish to offend him by rejecting his offer. Aemond's fist clenched against the table but he nodded tersely as she glanced at him, so she accepted the Prince's hand and allowed him to lead her to the centre of the room. As they danced she felt Aemond's gaze boring into her back and hoped he would not be too put out with her.

Aemond did not try to hide the scowl on his face as he watched Y/N dance with his nephew, his knuckles turning white as his anger and jealousy contended for dominance. His ire was reserved solely for his insolent nephews who he'd heard whispering about his wife under their breaths and though Jace seemed to be behaving amicably enough with Y/N, he was suspicious of his intentions in asking her to dance. At the same time a possessiveness rose up in Aemond, though he knew it was childish. Y/N was his love, his person and he misliked seeing Jace touch her, his mind swimming as they interlocked arms and brushed their fingertips together.

He made a concerted effort to relax his posture and unfurl his fist as their dance came to an end, not wishing Y/N to think him angry with her. It irritated Aemond to no end to see Jace offer his hand to his sister Helaena next, prompting Y/N to weave around the Prince and make her way back to him from the other end of the table. He felt a sense of disquiet at her having to pass by Luke, though he knew it was inconceivable that he would harm her. His continued distrust of the boy who'd maimed him had prompted him to have Y/N sit on his left side, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in having the person he most trusted on his vulnerable side where he could not see. His feeling of unease was not groundless however as Luke pointedly held his cup out to her.

"I have need of a refill."

Y/N stopped in her tracks and Aemond watched with fury as a look of confusion passed across her features. He saw plainly what Luke was playing at, observing the petulant boy's barely repressed smirk. When she didn't reply Luke twisted to face her, feigning surprise. "Apologies my lady, I mistook you for one of the servants."

Aemond slammed his own goblet down on the table hard enough for it to shake the dishes and silence the hum of conversation.

"A final tribute to my nephews. Jace, Luke, Joffrey. Each of them handsome, brave..."

Aemond looked directly at Luke, wishing to convey the full weight of his insult and for him to know exactly who it was directed at.

"And strong."

Aemond felt Y/N brush her hand against his as she returned to his side, though he could not see her.

"I dare you to say that again."

Aemond was amused by the Strong pup's gall as he advanced on him, coming to meet him halfway.

"Why? Do you not think yourself strong?"

He had to admire his nephew's bravery as his fist connected with Aemond's Jaw, though it did not carry enough force to have the intended affect. Aemond did not spill a drop of wine. Hearing his wife gasp in alarm he shot her a cocky grin to let her know he was unharmed before shoving Jace to the ground. It did not serve him to fight his nephew, Jace was no match for him. The dinner descended into chaos as Luke rose to aid his brother and was roughly slammed into the table by Aegon.

His mother's voice broke through the cacophony of shouts and scraping chairs.

"Aemond, why do you say such things?"

He pulled his arm from her grip, irritated that it was him being reprimanded once again when it was his nephew's who had insulted his wife. His retaliation was surely to be expected. "I am only expressing how proud I am of my family, mother. It appears my nephews are not so proud of theirs." His tone was laced with venom as he glared at Lucerys. It was not enough for him to take his eye. That he could have forgiven. But he had to revel in his lack of punishment and embarass his gentle wife too. This was a transgression he could not ignore.

As Jace made to rush at him again Daemon stepped in between them and Aemond struggled to decide whether he would stand his ground. The soft feel of Y/N's hand against his as she interlocked their fingers decided it. He stormed from the room, Y/N in tow.

Y/N did not dare to say anything as she stumbled to keep up with Aemond's long strides. He released her hand only when they reached their chambers, stalking away from her to lean against his desk. She worried he might be angry with her but she could not bear to see him so distressed, his head downcast so that his silver hair formed a blanket around his face, his knuckles gripping the edge of his desk so tightly they turned white from the strain. Tentatively approaching him she came to stand between his legs and moved his hair away from his face. Her fears were dispelled as he only grasped her hips and pulled her closer towards him, hands splaying across her waist. "I will make no apology for defending my wife."

Y/N brushed her knuckles against his cheek and Aemond immediately brought his hand up to hold hers in place.

"I would not ask it of you. Indeed, I am glad to have such a protective husband. Though I am sorry that Jacaerys hurt you."

She trailed her fingertips across his jaw lightly, not wishing to press upon a bruise which must surely be forming. Though she could confess inwardly to a degree of girlish embarrassment that after the initial moment of shock and concern at seeing Jacaerys punch her husband, she'd found it attractive how little it had affected Aemond.

Seeming to realise she would not reprimand him for his comportment, Aemond smiled beatifically at her.

"I am unharmed, my love. I have to admire my nephew's spirit, but despite his parentage he has not the strength to match it."

Y/N quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Have I not told you to reign in your arrogance before, husband?"

Aemond's eye lit up with mischief at her light scolding, and he brought a hand to the small of her back to press her closer still. "Tell me again."

Y/N brought her hands to his chest to steady herself as she leant fully against him, heat pooling in her stomach at the way Aemond was looking at her. Noting how his gaze fell to her lips she gladly titled her head to bring their lips together.

Valyrian Translations: Nuha prumia-My heart

Daor- No

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discocandles · 3 months ago

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yeah, you're onto something here. i went on a rant in the tags but heres the stuff related to this:

a jon and chrissy friendship would be so awkward and so tragic oh my god. jon would see chrissy filled with fear & see will, his brother who's forever away. he abandoned his family, and now chrissy too. maybe she wouldn't have died if he went to california.

i think there would be a lot of guilt in the Byers family if this happened. Joyce because she wanted out of Hawkins, but she should've waited until Jon graduated to move so he wouldnt have to choose. Now her son is stuck in that town alone. Jonathan because he chose to finish high school at Hawkins, abandoning them after the pain of Starcourt. Will because if he hadn't been kidnapped and possessed, mom wouldn't have felt the need to move and jon wouldnt have had to choose. El is exempt bc she's new to the Byers, and grieving her dad.

also we wouldn't have had lucas being given shit by mike and dustin for joining basketball. Jon would not give two shits aout lucas liking sports and his music. even if Steve and Jon are jealous of each other right now, they would avoid bringing the party into it like the plague. and they would have good moments before everything officially goes to shit.

and speaking of Steve, the "you're a good person actually" talk would be way more impactful from Jonathan. given their history and how steve treated jon in s1, it would be an even bigger moment. and steve would probably give credit of his change to jon, the whole "thump on the head to get him going the right way" thing. which would impact jon, who feels like he's been abandoning everyone.

Sorry to be a hater for a second but st4 truly was so foul. Imagine them trying to convince us the Scooby teen gang included EDDIE while Jonathan was just some other random guy…….. and people bought into it……….

#you unlocked thoughts i didnt know i had and i dont really know how to articulate them or how i feel about it.#like 1) the duffers didnt know how to write jon bc he was nancy's sidekick to them for about 2 seasons #so they just decided his thing was gonna be weed jokes & ldr angst; both of which were mostly sold by heaton & franco's comedic acting #speaking of carrying a role 2) script eddie was bland. quinn ad-libbed most of what made eddie fun. there was room to make that jon instead #god i should make this its own post but im in too deep now #third & my big gripe. st has too many characters. i understand not wanting to kill the main characters off but stop adding more.#max and billy were great but we didnt need murray to stay and kali's been retconned. robins great but susie's a punchline #and i love erica but i think she was mostly used as a sassy Black girl stereotype. it'd be more cohesive if it was a party member there #then there's s4's plethora of new characters. oh and some people arent dead now. like joyce & el reuniting w/ hopper was nice ig #but what if their grief was explored like max's was? what if we saw joyce mirror her s1 self when el is kidnapped? that would be awesome #st #this sat in my drafts for a bit but here it is

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mncxbe · 9 months ago

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Come on, baby, don't you hurt me anymore

𝐀𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: light angst, fluff?, itty bitty smut, one bed trope, smoking, mutual pining, spoilers for s1// inspired by an ask i got from my beloved 🐑 anon

"I can feel you plotting something" said Aki, his gaze fixed on a distant spot outside the hotel room window. It was snowing so much that the buildings on the opposite side of the street appeared only as a blurry contour– blocks of dark grey punctuated by neon signs. Aki's voice carried an edge of annoyance which you shrugged off, huffing.

"I'm not plotting anything" you chuckled, shifting away from under the heavy blanket. "Whatever..." he groaned in response "Just stop moving around I'm trying to sleep"

You were grateful he couldn't see you rolling your eyes at his words. He was impossible. It's been a few months since you first started crushing on your partner and now that Makima sent you two to Kyōto on business it was the perfect opportunity to make a move. You were forced to share a room, a bed.

As you laid next to him, you wondered what would be the best way to confess your feelings– a direct approach might've worked, but Aki was too sleepy to engage in any conversation. You sighed, your gaze musing on the snowflakes outside and then it hit you... the perfect opportunity to get Aki to talk to you. Sliding out of bed you made your way towards the window, prying it open.

Your movements alerted the man beside you who groaned angrily. "Where are you going?".

"Just getting some air, relax. It's not like I'm gonna run off or something" you retorted "You should come too"

"Like hell. It's freezing". You couldn't help but laugh at his comment– for someone who grew up in a mountainous area he sure hated winter. "Suit yourself, but you'll have to do without your cigarettes" you giggled, dangling his pack in front of him as you disappeared outside on the fire escape platform. You could hear your partner's groans of protest as he called out your name but you didn't respond.

With an annoyed sigh, Aki got out of bed and slipped on his shoes, following you outside. He found you at the leaning against the metal railing, holding the pack in front of him– daring him to come get it. He wasn't in the mood for this; it's been an exhausting day, packed with meetings with the higher ups and honestly all he wanted to do was sleep but you wouldn't give him a break.

Stepping closer to you, Aki reached for the cigarettes but you quickly pulled your hand away, hiding it behind your back. "Come and get them if you want them so much, Hayakawa" you taunted. The mischevious smirk that played on your lips only irked him more. "Can you not?" he hissed, closing the distance between you as he tried to grab a hold of the pack. He was basically hugging you, his body pressing you further against the icy railing."I'm not joking, y/n. give them back it's cold out here" he whined and you pursed your lips, cooing at him. "I didn't know the great Aki Hayakawa was scared of a little cold"

You could see the shift in his expressing, his lips pressing in a thin line as he yanked the pack from your hands. "You're no fun, Aki" you sighed, content that the man was back to his alert self. "Well, I'm not in the mood for this" he answered mindlessly, taking a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. The flame glowed red against the grey night. You stepped closer to him, the crisp snow melted under your bare skin, burning the soles of your feet but the sensation felt oddly comforting– a distraction from the heavy tension between you and Aki. Raising on your tippy-toes you gave him a knowing smile "Then what are you in the mood for?"

Aki's cheeks dusted pink at your question. He wasn't stupid, he was aware of your feelings for him but he'll be damned if he was going to give you the satisfaction. His gaze moved up and down your body– from the lace trimmed tank top and cushy pajama pants to your bare feet and he scowled. How were you not freezeing?"Get back inside, idiot. I don't want you catching a cold."

"Didn't know you cared so much about my well-being" you purred, stepping on the vamps of his boots. Your actions took him by surprise and he instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You were almost at the same level as him, so close he could see the fat snowflakes resting on your hair and lashes. God, you looked so pretty in the soft glow of the winter night. You seemed right out of an old pictures movie. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it, averting his gaze.

"What, Hayakawa, you nervous?" you taunted, your voice dripping with amusement. Hooking a finger under his chin, you brought your lips closer to his ear"Am I making you nervous?" The man shivered– your breath was hot against his skin, the closeness warming up his insides.

"No" he said plainly, still not facing you. He's never been a good liar and he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his true feelings if he were to look you in the eyes. Of course, you were aware of that, but you were dead set on making his composure crumble. Your lips ghosted over the shell of his ear before making their way lower, tracing soft kisses along the expanse of his neck. "You sure, Aki?" you giggled, relishing the way he tensed up under your touch. He smelt well; of tobacco and fresh cologne, making your whole body heat up in anticipation.

Your kisses raised goosebumps in their wake, causing the man to shudder. Still, he made no attempt to stop you- he knew it would've been pointless. Instead, he squeezed your hip tighter, ashing his cigarette. "You know it won't work, right? A relationship I mean"

"Why not?" you asked, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. You were perfectly modled in his embrace, as if you were made to fill his sharp, hollow edges with your soft curves. "Because it simply wouldn't work" he insisted, sighing. He didn't want to tell you that he only had at most two years left to live, that starting a relationship would be pointless since he wasn't going to watch it grow into something... more. So he simply remained silent.

As if reading his mind you pulled away from him, looking up to meet his eyes. "If it's about you dying soon, i know already" Aki raised a brow at your words and you shrugged, wrapping your arms around him "Denji told me" you clarified, watching the stern expression on his face melt into something softer.

"Look, Aki... do you really wanna go through life without living a little? Don't you want something more?"

Aki would've lied if he said that your words didn't take a toll on him. You were right, he wasn't allowing himself the comfort of normality– getting attached to you, caring. "I just don't want you to suffer. There's no point in you falling in love with me when I already have an expiration date"

You chuckled at his words, placing a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Be a little selfish, Aki. It's your life, don't let it go to waste. Plus, i'm a big girl I can take care of myself."

"You clearly can't" he commented, gesturing at the way you were clinging to him. Aki brushed a frozen strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. "I like you too. i really do but... I don't think we should do this"

You looked up at him with those big doe eyes he so adored, blinking a few snowflakes away from your lashes "Okay, you don't think we should, but do you want to?" you asked in a soft voice that made him melt like a wax candle. "It's nothing wrong with letting yourself have the things you want. for once, think about what you want, not what you think is the right thing to do"

You were so goddamn adamant that you were making him give him, so stubborn– but also right. He never allowed himself the things he wanted most. Looking down at you his heart tightened in his chest; you were so beautifully present, so real and certain, unlike any other aspect in his life. He couldn't bring himself to say no to you. So maybe... just once he could have something good in his life.

Aki let out a low sigh. flicking the bud of his cigarette out on the street, he took a deep breath "And how would this work? Are we going to sneak around? You know Makima doesn't take relationships between colleagues too well" You hushed him, placing a finger on his lips "Don't worry about that, Aki. We'll figure out a way." you reassured him, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips and his heart skipped a beat. His arms tightened around you, squeezing you against him as his tongue slipped in your mouth, ripping a soft moan from you.

Aki's mind went blank, all his worries and doubts melting away as he held you close to him. You were far away from home, so he was going to make the most of the alone time you had together. You were right, he thought as he rushed back inside with you and slid under the puffy blanket, dragging you on top of him– you could figure things out. Give it a try at least. But for now he just wanted to give in, to spill all his want in you. So for once, he didn't hesitate when you kissed him, dipping his hand lower down your body to touch you where you needed him most. you hastly unclasped his belt, the sound of metal piercing through the silence of your room and he groaned at your touch, pulling you closer against him. Any trace of uncertainty was gone the moment you sunk low on him, moaning softly into the needy kiss you were sharing– he knew without a shred of doubt that this was right, you were good for him. And he wasn't planning to let you go.

#‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚#chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #csm aki #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #csm x reader

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hugmekenobi · 5 months ago

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S3: The Bad Batch (13)

Chapter Thirteen: Into the Breach

Gif by @trapezequeen

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Omega gets to work on an escape plan of her own. Meanwhile. the Batch aren't about to let a chance to get to Tantiss slip away

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

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

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, me making up science and medical stuff, Rampart, Hemlock being a manipulative creep, heavy angst, mentions of injections and drugging for interrogation purposes, injury descriptions (blood, bruising, cuts), depictions of physical and emotional torture, lotta internal conflicts, referenced character 'death', me giving more conflict to Emerie's internal struggles

Word Count: 7.6K

Author's notes: It's a tough one this week and that will be the remaining theme as we enter these last few chapters but there's light at the end of the tunnel, I promise!!

It was another new day and Omega, now back in the plain grey uniform, had come to terms with her predicament now and was growing more accustomed with the daily routine of the vault. She woke up as the artificial light encompassed the room and her cell door opened.

She had given it a while, but she’d decided that now was the time to plan not only her escape, but the escape of all the kids here. And she would find you in the process. But, to do that, she needed the kids to know that they could trust her.

Omega walked out into the room and approached the young female Iktotchi with her old straw Lula doll. “Hello. I’m Omega.” She said warmly.

“I’m Eva.” Eva replied, a tad shyly.

“What’s that?” Omega asked about the hologram in front of Eva.

“A game. They want us to play them.”

Omega glanced to under the tabletop to see a drawer. She opened it and brought out a case filled with coloured puzzle pieces, each of a different shape. “I like your doll.” She said as she fiddled with the pieces, hoping the comment would help Eva feel more at ease around her.

Eva clutched the doll tightly. “Dr. Karr gave it to me.” Eva turned off her game as she said, “She’s the only nice one.”

That gave Omega a flicker of hope that perhaps her words had had more of an impact on Emerie than she’d thought but she followed Eva’s concerned look to the glass windows above to see the hordes of scientists lurking and staring down at them, “Are they always watching?”

“Yeah. The droids too.”

“That’s Jax.” Eva pointed to the green Mirialan that had answered Omega’s question before she introduced the others. “Sami, and Baryn. This is Omega.” She said to the three of them.

Omega nodded to the Pantoran girl holding the Tarlafar baby. “How long have you all been here?”

“They don’t like it when we talk to each other so much.” Sammi said nervously.

“And if you cause problems, things only get worse.” Jax added mournfully. “Come on, Sammi.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” Sammi said dully as she followed Jax to another table.

Getting used to it was not in her plan, but she’d bide her time. Omega carried on arranging the shapes in front her, but her mind drifted to you- if they were all to play games, she had to anxiously wonder about what kind of games Hemlock had in mind for you.

“Good morning, Emerie. What’s on the schedule today?” You croaked with forced enthusiasm as the door opened. You already knew the answer, but it was the same question you’d asked every time since Hemlock’s plan for you had been enacted that first morning after you’d arrived.

Emerie swallowed tightly as she walked in with the troopers. You look particularly bad today- your cheekbone was purple, and the swelling hadn’t quite gone down yet and the cut on your lip was still open and oozing and she was sure your ribs weren’t doing much better after the beating you took yesterday. “Dr. Hemlock wants you back in the training room.” She said, hoping she didn’t let her discomfort slip through.

The reprieve from the uncomfortable position and biting metallic cuffs was always short-lived because it was instantly replaced by the cruel, pinching grip on your upper arms.

You were pulled to your feet, and you bit back the groan that threatened to spill from your lips as your sore and tired body protested the action. You watched Emerie walk over to you and take your blood sample. “And then I’m assuming we have our regularly scheduled session with the good doctor afterwards?” This was the only part of the routine that varied. If you weren’t taken to that room, you remained in the cell and had more rounds with the interrogation droid and honestly, you welcomed the training room days because that was a pain you could cope with more.

“I… believe that is his plan, yes.” Emerie said, shifting her eyes from you as you were marched past her.

“Don’t look so sad. After all, you’re part of a great scientific adventure.” You remarked over your shoulder as you were led away.

Right… somehow that didn’t feel so good anymore. You had attempted to sound satirical, but you were too weak to convey it effectively so the genuine dullness and pain in your voice was the only thing Emerie had heard. She shook the counter-productive sympathies away and headed to process your sample before she went back to the vault.

You stayed still as you let the trooper tie the blindfold over your eyes- you were used to this by now too. It was only after that was done that you were shoved into what you assumed was the training room that was always being referenced.

The blindfold was Hemlock’s way of keeping the secrecy element of this room intact. Plus, he claimed it was a way to see how your Midichlorians reacted when channelling the Force in a threatening situation because without your sight, you had to use the Force to guide you more.

“You know, for someone who claims to be sophisticated, you sure do like seeing me get beaten up.” You called out, knowing he was somewhere observing this whole thing. The response, however, came in the form of an injection in your neck and your entire body seized up- this was an unwelcomed change. “What-” The internal effects were instantaneous and all too recognisable. Dread and fear started to squeeze around your chest.

“An alteration to my methods. I wish to study how you handle both the physical and mental strain when meeting them together, rather than tackling them separately.” Hemlock explained as he nodded to Scorch to leave the room after the injection had been successful. He then gestured to the four operatives to come into view. “Begin.”

You stood unsteadily on your feet as that familiar haziness and fogginess set in, but you found strength in the Force and pushed it away to focus on the other threat that was about to happen.

You sensed the bodies around you.

There were four of them.

Each one of them were poised and ready to fight.

You parried away the first series of but a strong kick from someone else landed against your still injured and bruised ribs. Winded, you tumbled back a few paces.

“I want you to remember Deveron.” Hemlock began.

You couldn’t help it; the memory of that first meeting was as clear as day in your brain and the warmth the nostalgia brought you felt as though you were right back there. No, snap out of it, don’t let him twist these memories for his own gain. Knuckles grazed the side of your head as you managed to duck just in time but the pain that shoving away the memory was all too real.

“I want you to remember the Reek stampede.”

Your back stiffened as the emotions of that day and what it had meant overwhelmed you but clearing your head quickly, you anticipated the punch to your jaw and took a half step back to avoid it, but you weren’t fluid in your steps and setting yourself again left your stomach open for another onslaught of blows.

Hemlock quashed his own irritations at the lack of progress and kept pushing, though the language he had to use now left a foul taste in his mouth but it was for a greater purpose so he could make do for now, “I want you to remember every bonding moment with Clone Force 99.”

“I want you to remember the first time you met Omega.”

“I want you to remember Kamino and afterwards when you and Hunter told each other your… affections for one another.”

You choked as the oxygen was snatched from your lungs as pushing away those beautiful memories brought with it a different but just as crushing kind of pain. You didn’t manage to stop the series of punches that landed on your nose and mouth this time. The harsh taste of iron flooded behind your teeth as blood dripped down the back of your throat and from your nostrils. You hastily spat it out but there was a steady distracting deluge of blood leaving your nose now.

“You can feel that happy again. I’m allowing that for you. I have them here and you can be back with them all again. Omega is safe too.”

You deflected the kick to your thigh but fumbled avoiding the kick to your back as you felt yourself growing more passive under his words. He sounded so genuine, they really could be- no, it was all fake. He didn’t mean it. It was a false reality.

“You can feel that all again. They’re right outside and they’re waiting for you.”

No, no one was waiting for you. You avoided the strike that was intended for the back of your knee and questioned in a breathless panic, “Where are you getting all this from?”

“Tech has been most informative, and I’ve learned all sorts about you. He wants to see you again.”

That broke the illusion, and it was where he slipped up. You already knew Tech was dead, you were so certain of that and so his lies to that matter had no effect. You weren’t sure how he knew all these references but at least you felt your focus coming back more as you smoothly avoided and parried away a series of jabs and kicks from your attackers.

Hemlock noticed you gained more clarity after he said that, evidently there’d be no way to convince you of that fact without giving everything away, so he went back to the original tactic. “Don’t you want to be with them again? They’re your family, are they not?”

The impact of the statement sent you tripping backwards of your own accord. Your recovery was slow, and you barely managed to avoid the punch to your cheek and your chin took the follow up blow.

“You hear them calling for you.” Hemlock taunted as he watched you go between fighting with yourself and the attackers surrounding you. Your strength was something to be admired but he needed it to work for his purposes and for that, you needed to break.

You could, you could hear their voices, they were calling your name, but they sounded distorted, something wasn’t quite right with them. It couldn’t be them; Hemlock would never allow for such a peaceful thing.

You blocked the oncoming punch but a shove to your chest sent you stumbling backwards.

“Don’t you wish to go to them?” Hemlock maintained the scenario as he observed you.

Yes- no, it wasn’t true! You fought with your own brain before another strong punch to your jaw distracted you from the internal battle and you sensed the follow-up kick coming for your stomach which you dodged.

“You only need to join me, and I’ll promise you’ll be reunited.”

No, no you couldn’t do that. They weren’t here, he was lying. They- This time, you felt the tip of a blade slice through your clothing and across your skin. You yelped in pain but before you could react, a kick to that wounded area sent you sprawling to the ground, and you contorted in agony as a combination of fists and feet stamped on your side and the fresh cut there.

“Enough.”

Upon Hemlock’s command, you immediately felt the bodies above you stop but all you could hear in your mind were the warped and falsified voices of your family and you hated it. You longed to be around them again, you longed to talk to them again, and you knew it wasn’t possible. “Make it stop, make it stop.” You whispered frantically as you clutched your head.

Hemlock gave you that relief. He needed you as clear-headed as possible for the next session in order for his tests to be the most effective and for the results to be an untainted as possible. “You can no longer hear them. You know that you’re back in the training room.” He told you.

His words sank in, and your breathing evened out.

The mental effects of the dosage began to fade but only enough to make the physical pain you were feeling more apparent.

Hemlock crouched down next to your beaten body. “Such unnecessary suffering. It can end, you need only accept my proposition.” Hemlock offered as he wiped away the blood secreting from the various wounds on your face.

The offer always got the same response from you, “Go to hell.” You wheezed as you slapped his hand away and braced yourself against the ground. You gingerly sat on your knees and pressed your hands to your side in an attempt to stop the steady flow of blood leaving the cut.

Hemlock only chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, I believe you’re already there. And we’re not done yet.”

Your throat tightened with fear as you heard the threatening promise in his words.

The images and sounds you’d been subjected to still remained faintly in your head as you were harshly tugged to your feet. Your feeble struggles against the hold the troopers took of you had no impact as you were pulled from the training room, but you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up properly, so your feet dragged behind you.

Hemlock avoided the spatters of blood dripping from your body as he walked just behind.

Rampart paced irritably across the filthy and decrepit landing platform, “Where in the blasted galaxy did that pirate abandon us? And why are you keeping me here?” He directed his question towards Hunter.

Hunter didn’t so much as glance up from the datapad as he replied, “You’d prefer we take you back to that Imperial labour camp instead?”

Rampart sighed, “We had a deal. I already told you what I know about Tantiss.”

Hunter angled himself to face Rampart this time. “You’ll get your freedom when we get the exct coordinates to that base.”

Before Rampart could argue further, the sound of an approaching ship interrupted him.

Hunter made sure to push past Rampart’s shoulder as he went to go meet Echo.

Echo came down off the ramp and clasped Hunter’s hand in greeting.

“Nice work.” Hunter complimented as he took in the new ship Echo had acquired.

“A stolen shuttle is the best I could do on short notice.” Echo said. “The supplies we need are aboard.” His face hardened as he saw Rampart. “You really think we can trust that hydrosnake?”

“I can hear you.” Rampart scoffed pointedly.

Hunter half-turned back to Rampart. “No, but he’s our best chance at finding them.”

His brother may have been putting on a convincing front, but it still wasn’t his usual ‘put together’ nature- something just felt off. Echo hesitantly started to ask, “And… how are y-”

“Fine.” Hunter replied roughly.

Echo figured now was not the time to push the matter further, so he simply nodded and turned back for the ship.

Hunter followed Echo on-board.

Crosshair hit Rampart’s back with his rifle to get him to move. Was it necessary? Probably not but he found the displeased look on Rampart’s face at the action rather amusing.

Wrecker shoved Rampart down into one of the seats. “Now, start talking.”

Rampart groaned in exasperation. “Oh, how many times do I have to explain it? Hemlock put safeguards in place to keep his base’s location a secret.”

“But you’ve been there before?” Hunter said, his frustration at Rampart’s persistent evasiveness making his tone more aggressive than

“Any ship going there must first dock at Imperial Station 003 in orbit over Coruscant where the coordinates are transmitted directly to the navicomputer.” Rampart explained.

Echo pulled up the hologram of the station. “Well, his intel about the orbital station checks out.” He agreed reluctantly. “But I can’t confirm the rest of his story.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” Rampart said with an offended scoff.

“Yes.” Crosshair and Wrecker said at the same time.

Hunter analysed the map, “Once we reach the station, we can find a ship departing for Tantiss and pull the coordinates.”

“We’re going to need Imperial clearance codes.” Crosshair said.

“Got that covered.” Echo confirmed.

Rampart interrupted the proceeding with a chuckle. They made is sound so simple, yet their naivety was astounding. “Unlikely. Those codes change every rotation.”

“Which why we’re not waiting around.” Hunter responded impatiently.

“Even with a stolen shuttle and clearance codes, you can’t expect to walk onto an Imperial station completely unnoticed.” Rampart pointed out.

“But you can.” Crosshair countered.

“And we’ll be your security detail.” Hunter added on.

“You just walk us right onto the station.” Echo rounded off the brief by chucking Rampart an Imperial uniform.

This was never in the arrangement. “You cannot be serious.” Rampart argued.

“You were an Imperial before. Impersonating one should be easy enough.” Hunter said unsympathetic to Rampart’s unease.

Rampart supposed he better get on board with this quickly or he’d be landing himself right back on Erebus but there was still one small issue that had to be rectified at once. “I can’t wear this. It’s a captain’s uniform.” He pointed to the rank markings on the top but all he received in response was a series of blank, uncaring faces. “I was a vice admiral.” Surely, they had to understand how improper this was?

“Well, you’ve been demoted.” Echo replied bluntly.

“I hate clones.” Rampart muttered to himself.

Omega sat in the cot in her cell as Emerie kneeled in front of her.

Emerie reached for her hand. “It’s time for your sample, Omega.”

“The other kids. Where did they come from?” Omega asked as her blood was being drawn.

“I don’t know. But they are well looked after here.”

“I’d like to believe you.”

Emerie withdrew the vial and placed it in the small storage slots that came from a hidden compartment in the walls.

Whilst she was distracted with that, Omega sneakily stole a sharp implement from the testing kit and slipped it up her sleeve.

“And… is she being well looked after?” Omega noted the way Emerie made sure to avoid her eyes as she tidied up the equipment.

“I’ll be checking on her soon.” Emerie replied, using her words carefully and she left before Omega could ask any more questions and headed upstairs to join the other scientist on the observation level.

Omega watched her go and she let her mind drift to worrying about you before she focused on the task at hand. She’d make sure to see you soon.

“Letting Omega intermingle with the specimens in unwise.” Dr. Scalder advised as she saw the girl join one of the tables.

Emerie paid little attention to the objection. “They’re engaging in the activities I’ve provided to keep their minds active. Besides, they are under our watchful eye.”

“That didn’t stop her from causing problems in the past.”

“I’m the chief scientist. I will run the vault as I see fit.” Emerie said definitively. With that, she left the room to go join Hemlock next.

“How often do the droids take our vitals?” Omega asked covertly as she pretended to play with the puzzle game.

“Twice a day. After meals.” Eva informed her boredly.

“What about the troopers? Do they ever come in here?”

“Only when we cause trouble.” Jax informed her.

“Jax tried to escape once, but he didn’t get very far.” Eva revealed.

“There’s no way outta here. We’re never going home.” Jax said with a sad sigh.

Well, that wasn’t how she was going to go about this. “Want to know a secret? I escaped from this mountain before.”

All of them perked up at that.

“Really?” Eva gasped.

“How?” Jax asked as a follow up.

“I had training. And I wasn’t alone. Know what else? I’m doing it again, and I’m taking you all with me.” Omega said confidently before she moved the box aside to show them what she’d been working on. “Look.”

All the kids gathered round to see what she’d created.

“It’s a layout of the vault.” Omega explained before she labelled each section of the improvised diagram. “This is where we’re sitting right now. These are the walls. These are the tubes in the walls the droids use to transport our samples. I need to get inside and see where they go.”

“Only the droids can access those hatches.” Jax said.

Omega messed up the puzzle piece layout to avoid attracting attention and subtly revealed the tool she’d snagged earlier. “I can get them open. I just need them not to see me.” She glanced up to the observation deck.

“Won’t take them long to notice you’re missing.” Jax pointed out.

Omega simply gave an unphased smile, “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

The blindfold was whipped off you as you were brought back to your cell, but you had no time to adjust since you were hastily tied up again.

Hemlock waited until the cuffs were back on and you were chained to the wall again. “Bring in the droid.”

Emerie entered with the droid that had the serum ready to go but came to a sudden halt as she took you in.

There was no ignoring your freshly bloody and beaten appearance but that was the norm now.

What wasn’t the norm, however, and it was the element that caught her off guard, was the still distant and glazed look in your eyes that tended to follow as an aftereffect of the interrogations.

“Dr. Karr?” Hemlock queried as he saw the sudden and unusual reaction.

Emerie fumbled over her words slightly, “Am- am I late, Dr. Hemlock? I… thought you had business in the training room first?”

“No, you are right on time. I merely… adjusted our technique.”

“Sir?”

“Come, Dr. Karr, you know that the pursuit of knowledge and getting results sometimes requires that we alter how we go about our research and that includes our interactions with specimens.”

What he’d done clicked with her then and suddenly the idea of putting you through, yet another round so soon felt like a very bad idea. “Should we not wait longer? If her body needs to recover more, this session could-”

“No, our methods need to get more aggressive. This is the new approach. Do you have a problem with that, Dr. Karr?” A firm challenge behind the softness of his tone.

Emerie snapped out of it, “Of course not, Doctor.” She handed Hemlock the datapad with the questions and scenarios that seemed to get to you the most. She put the monitor on you and connected it to her own datapad. She hated watching this part the most, but Hemlock had charged her with taking your samples and monitoring your vitals during this, so she had to stay.

The electronic warbling from the approaching droid always sent a cold rush of fear through your heart. You knew it was pointless to resist but the way your body instinctively tried to get away from the needle couldn’t be helped.

You inhaled sharply as it pricked your neck and that groggy, yet detached bodily sensation swiftly overcame you once more.

Hemlock released a content and easy sigh, “Now, today I think we’ll go with your dear Sergeant Hunter.”

“No.” You groaned as you already started to pull against the chains. “Not him.” You pleaded as your resistance crumbled away. You closed your eyes as you were helpless to what was to come.

Hemlock ignored you, “Do you feel that heat, that burning pain in your body?”

You had to conserve what fight and strength you had left so you allowed yourself to let those words take hold but what you couldn’t do was allow him to use Hunter to get to you in this way.

You felt the fire course through your veins and your body seized up with the intense pain it brought. You tugged against the chain, but it brought you no relief.

Satisfied that he had a hold on you again, Hemlock kept the torture going, “That agony, that burning pain that you’re feeling that feels like every nerve is on fire? Like your very being is being burned from the inside out? He’s feeling that too. As it gets worse for you, it gets worse for him.”

Hunter’s senses, he wouldn’t- no, he was safe. He wasn’t in pain. You told yourself as the burning in your own body intensified under Hemlock’s words.

“You can hear his cries…”

And you could. You heard Hunter screaming out your name. Screaming, pleading, begging for your help. They raged in your head, and you needed them to stop.

You yanked against the chains and your breathing came in the form of short, sharp pants and your body heaved with the effort of fighting against the serum’s effects and Hemlock’s voice.

“He’s calling for you. He wants you to make it end. Don’t you want to help him?”

Yes, you’d do anything to help him. You could join Hemlock, you’d do that for- no, stop. You told yourself.

“He’s in pain, he’s begging you to help him.”

“Hunter…” You rasped with a broken cry.

“He wants you but he’s hurting. And it’s because of you.”

Tears escaped your shut eyes and slid down your cheeks.

“I can end his suffering, just surrender to me.”

Yes, surrender and save Hunter- no, you’d never hurt him, and Hemlock wasn’t either. It was a lie. You thought internally as you continued to strain against your confinement so that the words wouldn’t take root.

“I’ll make it stop. I’ll let him hold you.”

Yes, that’s what you- No. Hunter wasn’t here, he couldn’t possibly be here. You reminded yourself as you tossed your head from side to side to rid yourself of the security that idea brought you… that made you all the more susceptible to Hemlock’s voice and his suggestions.

You had to push it away. You inhaled sharply and groaned, and you knew you’d succeeded when the pain came raging back again instead.

“Sir…” Emerie interjected timidly. She didn’t like the way your vitals were looking right now.

Hemlock raised his hand to quiet her and kept his attentions fixated on you. He’d seen a subtle change in you, a willingness to cooperate that hadn’t been present before. He needed to get back and now he knew the way to do so, “Don’t you want to feel his comfort once more?”

You thrashed against the chain and violently shook your head as if you could physically get rid of the images being created in your head, “No, it’s not real, it’s not real!” You cried as your entire body convulsed in both mental and physical agony.

“Oh, but it is…”

“It’s not.” You whimpered, but your conviction faltered for a moment as Hunter’s image entered your head and the comfort it brought you felt so real.

“And you can see him…”

No, remember it was a trick. “Stop!”

“Dr. Hemlock-” Emerie attempted to interject again as she kept an eye on your rapidly deteriorating vitals but again, he gestured to her to stay silent.

Hemlock continued his torment, “You can go to him…”

“No, I can’t! He’s not here, he’s not here!” Saying the words aloud was the only way you could fight against both your physical captor and the one in your mind. You were uncaring of the way the cuffs dug in and rubbed the skin of your wrists raw as you writhed in pain.

Hemlock noted your distressed reactions, but it didn’t matter to him, he could see this was the way to break you and he was almost there. “Just give into me and he’ll be yours again.”

“Stop!” You begged through hoarse and strained breaths.

“Dr. Hemlock!” Emerie urged more strongly this time as she saw the way your body was collapsing due to the strain of resisting the serum’s effects. If he went on for much longer, you wouldn’t make it.

Hemlock glanced at Emerie’s datapad and saw the minor cause of her rather ill-timed and inconvenient anxiety. He ground out a sigh and relented. Her interruptions would only hinder things. He stopped and allowed Emerie to take the droid away and monitor off.

Hemlock waited a few minutes for you to stabilise and come back to the present moment again. You were a formidable adversary which is why he knew he had to have you in his ranks and that meant altering his methodology further. “Increase her injection level. We go for longer next time. No interruptions, Dr. Karr.”

Emerie clutched her datapad tight to her chest and, without clearly thinking it through, started to protest the order, “Dr. Hemlock, her body can’t handle-”

“I know what she can handle, Dr. Karr.” Hemlock said sharply before he crouched down to your level and brushed his hands through your hair before he tucked his fingers under your chin. “Unless you wish it to stop. Why suffer more? All you have to do is join me.”

Your body heaved with each distressed pant as you made yourself meet his eyeline. “Go to hell.” You spat with as much venomous spite as you could muster. You managed a tired, half smirk of your own as you saw the flash of frustration behind his eyes.

Hemlock inhaled and exhaled a deep sigh to calm himself. “See it done for the next round today. Be sure to take her blood. We’ll still need records of how her M-Count reacts to each technique.” He directed Emerie as he past her and left the room.

“Yes, sir.” Emerie said quietly before she approached your side with the sampling equipment and injected the needle into your hand. She gulped as she saw the new dark red bloodstain on your clothing and the fresh blood leaking through your clothes that was now forming a small puddle on the floor. She feared what would become of you if that wound went unchecked. “If you just joined him, it would stop. You-”

“I can’t, Emerie.” You said through gritted teeth as you pressed yourself against the wall and closed your eyes. You ignored the stinging and dripping wound on your side and allowed yourself to drift off into nothingness because that was the only time you found peace now.

“We’re approaching Coruscant.” Hunter informed Echo as he came to see how he was getting on burning the paint off his helmet like he’d been doing for himself and the rest of their armour pieces.

Echo lifted his helmet as he heard the words. “All the armour’s been stripped. But we’re still not gonna blend in.” He tossed Hunter’s now all black helmet to him. “You really think Rampart can pull this off?”

Hunter caught it but didn’t put it on right away. He stared at it and his mind drifted back to a very different time.

He remembered back to his squad’s first official missions during the war, back when they’d all wanted to blend in.

But it had soon become clear that that wasn’t an option any of them wanted to follow. Establishing their own stand-out colours had been a significant moment, it hadn’t felt like it then, but it was.

Then they’d only grown more into the squad that they were today. The squad that owned who they were and the differences that came with that.

A tradition that had carried on when Echo joined.

And when you’d joined.

And when Omega joined too.

He recalled the days of Ord Mantell and when Lyra had changed their traditional red and black colours to the hues of blue, red, yellow and orange. It had marked the end of an era but also the beginning of a new one.

He’d remembered the pride and affection that had swelled in his chest that day when he’d seen that his colours had mirrored yours.

But now all those meaningful colours were gone. And the memory of that would be something he’d hold on to.

Rampart’s indignant cough at Echo’s words as he emerged from the refresher pulled Hunter out his thoughts. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t just make it to vice admiral on looks alone.” He had to admit it, it felt good to have his hair and beard no longer be a tangled mess and he relished being back in proper uniform again, even with an inferior rank.

Hunter said nothing, he only turned and went to the pilot’s seat and put through the transmission coming from the station.

“Rho-class shuttle, we have you on approach. Please identify.”

Echo activated the ship’s comm channel as he replied, “This is transport shuttle Alpha-44. Transmitting landing codes.”

There was a series of beeps as they all awaited confirmation.

“You’re clear to land at docking bay 5-tac-02.” The technician permitted.

“We can’t stay docked for long.” Echo cautioned. “This shuttle’s bound to be reported missing soon.”

“Assuming we’re not captured or killed during this little mission, what assurances do I have that you’ll let me go?” Rampart interjected.

Crosshair stared at him. “You’re going to have to trust us. Just like we have to trust you.”

“So don’t mess this up.” Wrecker added sternly.

Rampart turned to the big clone, “Hmm. Mess this up? I know how to carry myself.” He said self-righteously. “You’re the ones that are gonna stand out like overheated Gamorreans.”

This ship docked successfully, and it had been decided that Hunter, Crosshair and Echo would form Rampart’s security detail whilst Wrecker staying behind to watch the shuttle.

Before the four of them disembarked, Hunter caught Rampart’s shoulder and angled Rampart’s body towards him. He ignored to disgusted look on Rampart’s face at the action and began his warning, “The Empire betrayed and imprisoned you. We broke you out. Remember that before you try and betray us.”

Rampart obnoxiously wiped the spot on his shoulder where the clone’s hand had been. “I’m here, aren’t I? Let’s get this over with.” Rampart grumbled as he led the way off the shuttle.

Crosshair and Hunter donned their helmets like Echo had done earlier and stepped off to greet the Imperial that had just walked through the hangar doors.

“Who is responsible for this vessel? It is not on my docking manifest for today.”

Hunter took point and stood in front of the officer whilst the others remained behind by Rampart’s side. He remained still and silent as the Imperial examined him, but it was taking more willpower than he’d expected to wait this inspection out. He didn’t have time to humour Imperial questions.

“What division are you with? These uniforms are not regulation. I asked you a question, trooper.”

Rampart decided it was his moment to step in now. He shoved past Hunter and addressed the officer, “My division. And my orders are classified. If you have an issue with that, Lieutenant, then contact Governor Tarkin.” Rampart felt rather smug as saw the name have the desired effect. That flash of panic followed by an immediate desire to comply from subordinates was a part of the job he had missed dearly. “Now carry on.”

“Uh, y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The Lieutenant automatically straightened up and went back through the doors he had come from.

Rampart turned back to the clones and waved a hand towards the doors, “Shall we?”

Rampart led the way to the desired destination. “The control room is up ahead. We can access the station manifest from there.”

“Just do your thing and get us inside. We’ll handle the rest.” Echo said frankly.

The insolence he constantly received from these clones was getting to be a little much. “That’s ‘Do your thing, sir’.”

“I don’t think so.” Echo replied in a low, disapproving growl.

Rampart paused as they reached the guarded door and spoke to the two officers, “Troopers, you are relieved.”

“Captain?”

“Report to the barracks. You’ll receive further instructions.”

“But, sir, we just started our shift.”

“Perhaps you’d like to spend a few rotations in the brig for violating Article 15 of the Imperial standing order 10?” Rampart threatened.

The two troopers glanced at each other. “No, sir.” With that, they moved out.

The group of them made it into the control room but the technician was willing to be as accommodating or passive as others had been.

Hunter barely let him get his protests out, he stunned the Imperial but caught his body and laid him gently on the ground rather than letting him fall harshly.

Crosshair shut the door whilst Echo plugged into the system.

“This is taking far too long. Can you crack the encryption or not?” Rampart asked anxiously.

“I’m working on it.” Echo snapped, unplugging and pushing past Rampart to try another terminal.

“Hunter, I had to sideline an Imperial. Someone might come looking for him.” Wrecker said over the comm channel.

“Copy that. Have the shuttle ready to go.” Hunter glanced over at Echo as he heard a series of more positive sounding beeps.

“I’m in.” Echo confirmed as he read the information now on the screen. “A science vessel docked in Bay 8 is set to depart for Tantiss, and soon.”

“Let’s get to that navicomputer and pull the coordinates.” Hunter ordered swiftly.

“We can’t. The vessel is tagged for uplink after it launches.”

“Which means there’s no way to get the coordinates.” Crosshair deduced. “Did that slip your mind?” He directed the question to Rampart.

“You expect me to know technical details like that?” Rampart disputed.

Hunter wasn’t prepared to let this chance slip away. They- he- needed those coordinates no matter what. “Then there’s only one option left. We can’t extract those coordinates. But that vessel is heading to Tantiss. That’s our way in.”

“What?” Rampart questioned in disbelief. Surely they realised this was venture was now dead in the water.

“It’s the only chance we have of finding them and freeing those prisoners.”

Rampart sighed, there was that naivety again. “Science vessels have heightened security protocols. There’s no way you can all sneak aboard undetected.”

“But I can.” Echo volunteered.

“You can’t go alone.” Crosshair argued.

“He’s not.” Hunter said. “Once you’re aboard, find a way to disable the proximity sensors. We’ll follow behind, then attach our shuttle to the hull and hitch a ride directly to Tantiss.”

“Now, wait just a minute. This is not the plan I agreed to.” Rampart objected strongly.

“Plans change.” Crosshair sneered.

Hunter caught Echo’s shoulder as he passed, “They’ll monitor comms. So, we’ll have to go radio silent. Watch your back.”

The four of them left the room and split off.

Omega watched as the droid left and when it looked like the scientists above were not looking, she slipped into her room and used her tool to jimmy away at the wall panels.

She was successful in taking a few of them apart which allowed her to stick her head through the gap and take in the shaft of space behind the panels and was pleased to see there was room for her to manoeuvre around and explore what lay beyond the walls of the vault. However, as she her shoulder and more tumbled down, making more noise than she was comfortable with.

Omega knew she didn’t have a lot of time, Dr. Scalder kept a very keen eye and had probably noticed her absence and so was most likely already on her way down. She hurriedly tidied them back up and sat innocently on her cell’s makeshift bed as Dr. Scalder entered. “Hello, Dr. Scalder.” She said casually.

Dr. Scalder said nothing and cast her eyes around the room for signs that anhthing was amiss.

“Is something wrong?” Omega inquired.

Dr. Scalder only gave a mild hum in response before she walked out and left the vault to go back to her post.

Omega released a relieved sigh and rejoined the rest of the kids.

“Well?” Jax asked.

“Did it work?” Eva followed up.

“Uh huh.” Omega replied.

“What did you find?” Sammi asked quietly as Baryn played on her lap.

“Our way out.” Omega said confidently.

Hunter and the others ran onto the ship just as Wrecker was ridding the shuttle of the unconscious Imperial.

“’Bout time.” Wrecker grunted before he gently sat the Imperial down on some crates and placed his cap back on his head and joined the others again.

“Hunter, I’m inside the ship. It’s launching right now.” Echo commed in.

“Get those sensors disabled.” Hunter hastily powered up the ship and set it off for the pilot’s seat to get the ship in the air and in the direction of the shuttle Echo was on.

Using the droid transport chute had meant that Echo had successfully snuck aboard the shuttle leaving for Tantiss but where he’d run into trouble was in the form of the unnecessary delay caused by the trooper sent down to investigate his activities down below.

“What are you waiting for?” Wrecker asked as Hunter slowed the ship down.

“The proximity sensors haven’t been deactivated yet.”

Rampart- in his nervous state- had already strapped himself into one of the seats in the main hold. “This isn’t going to work. Their proximity sensors will detect us and shoot us down.”

“Relax. Echo’s on it.” Crosshair said to him.

With the trooper and his cover taken care of again, Echo was able to get back to work on disabling the sensors.

Hunter glanced down at his console as the beeping grew more incessant as it was indicating the ship ahead was getting ready to enter hyperspace.

“They’re about to jump.” Crosshair said, a hint of his own anxieties coming through now.

Hunter’s own resolve stayed steady. This wasn’t going to fail, he was getting to Tantiss, and Echo wouldn’t let them down. “Echo will come through. He just needs more time.”

“Which we don’t have.” Rampart stood up now and pushed past the other two clones who stood in the hallway just behind the pilot’s chair. “He’s probably been captured. Abort the mission.” He urged.

Wrecker and Crosshair only waited. This wasn’t their call to make or have a say on this time.

That wasn’t an option and no one, certainly not Rampart, was going to convince him that it was. Hunter kept his eyes fixed on the shuttle ahead and his voice was cold and unyielding as he said, “Negative.” He powered up the engines again and made for the bottom of the shuttle. He turned the ship upside down right as the console indicated that the sensors were down. He attached to the Tantiss shuttle just as it entered hyperspace.

They were getting those clones out of there.

They were getting Omega out of there.

They were getting you out of there.

“Oh, come on, Emerie. You’re killing me here, aren’t you a little early?” You moaned as you forced yourself up, wincing as the cut on your side felt like it ripped itself open more. It seemed like you’d only just finished the latest round with torture droid equipped with the new parameters Hemlock had set out and yet here Emerie was again.

Emerie found that she really didn’t like that that’s all you associated her with. She wanted to pursue knowledge and be known for her science, not hurting people. “I’m not- I’m not here for that.”

You just about managed to open your eyes but did a doubletake because you weren’t certain that what you were seeing wasn’t due to the blood loss and there was the possibility it was another one of Hemlock’s tricks. Getting to tell reality from hallucination was proving to be more challenging with each injection he put you through and this was one of those occasions where you weren’t sure what to believe because in your cell was Emerie.

Alone.

Holding a medkit and a flask of what you hoped was water.

“You’ve not been injected with anything.” Emerie could tell that’s where your thought process was heading as she knelt down next to you and pushed up the top of your uniform to examine the angry knife-wound on your side. Before she attended to it, she held the flask to your lips and let you drink from it.

The water cooled your sore throat, and the small act of unexpected kindness allowed the spark that Hemlock was doing his best to snuff out to grow more again.

You felt a few drips spill down your chin as she took it away, but you were too fixated on the way she was now attending to your injury to care, plus she’d seen you in far worse states.

“Why are you doing this? Why bother helping me?” You hissed in pain as she cleaned the wound and placed the bandage over it. You guessed the reason she hadn’t stitched it up or used any bacta was so that Hemlock remained unaware of the outside assistance, but you’d take any help you could get.

Emerie hesitated; she didn’t fully have the answer herself yet. “I don’t quite know but I do know Omega would want you to get through this.”

At Omega’s name, you felt a new surge of strength flow through you. “How is she?” You whispered.

“She’s fine. I’m doing what I can to watch out for her.” Emerie replied before she unscrewed the cap of the canteen again.

You huffed out a relieved breath. “Good.” You welcomed the final swig of water she offered you. “How long do I have?” You asked as she removed it and got the stuff together in order to leave it as though she’d never been here.

“About 40 minutes.” Emerie admitted, her voice solemn.

“Bring it on.” You said with a tight, pained smile.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @dominoeffectsworld, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff @qvnthesia

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #hunter x fem!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #friends to lovers #star wars #angst

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arcait · 7 months ago

Note

Caitvi breakup + reunion?

18+. brief, unsexy smut under the cut. also angst

1050 words

read it on ao3

A breakup is like the girls’ separation that we see them go through in s1, but it’s worse. Because the thing between them isn’t unspoken now - there’s no denying the pain of it all, the intense longing both Cait and Vi feel.

Cait tells herself Vi is being stubborn: she’s the one who broke it off, spouting an obvious lie about how she needs to focus on getting Powder back, on figuring out how to help everyone she knows in Zaun. Vi had said it like she was the one who cared about being part of a cause, not Cait.

Cait knows Vi is headstrong, and won’t be the one to try to win Cait back. Maybe Vi convinced herself of what she told Cait because she felt like she was distracted, or she was embarrassed by constantly being in the presence of snobbish Piltover citizens. Vi’s pride can be annoying, but she’ll get over herself eventually. Once she does, Cait’s anger at the other girl will have passed, and then they can get through this. Just like they have before, sort of.

Cait has to tell herself this, because the alternative is too much.

The alternative, of course, is that Vi realized how deep in with Cait she had not only allowed herself to become, but done so enthusiastically. If one day she woke up and got psyched out by her feelings, there is nothing Cait can do. She can’t wait out Vi’s fear like she can Vi’s… ego.

Cait can only lie to herself so much. After a month, she elects to simply stop thinking of Vi. She scribbles out hastily written notes, listens to her parents more. She also makes herself finish again and again each night, even when it’s clear her body doesn’t care to. Cait ignores the sweat on her brow, the rawness of her entrance as she pushes her fingers further in and presses even harder on her clit.

Cait was hardly a virgin when she met Vi, but the orgasms Vi had given her were unlike anything Cait had ever felt. And Cait is as loving as she is lovely, and she wanted to share everything with Vi, especially in the heat of the moment, and so she had told her that, and Vi had smirked and let her chest puff up with pride as she smirked and said okay cupcake, let’s see how many more you’ve got in you -

So Cait makes herself cum faster and more times than Vi ever had. It’s never as hard, but Cait doesn’t mind. Or she tries not to, at least.

Vi tries to numb herself after she does it, and finds it works way too well.

She felt dirty after the fight with Cait. Guilty, like she had something wrong and was going to get in trouble. And that just pissed Vi off, because there’s no one around to scold her. She doesn’t have parents like Cait does, no one close enough to chastise or talk some sense into her. That’s probably why Vi was able to go through with what she did to Cait.

It makes Vi so, so upset that she always feels like she’s doing everything wrong. It’s such a fucking burden to carry around, and Vi doesn’t even know why she has it.

She wants it to disappear, that and the gaping feeling in her chest left behind by Cait, so she spends her time training. Vi punches the bags until her knuckles bleed through the wraps, and then she keeps going. She thinks it’ll make her tougher, strengthen her skin and condition her body into being more tolerant of the pain. That’s not what happens. Each day, without fail, Vi reaches a block, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t hit as hard as she does in a real fight.

Vi realizes the stakes must not be high enough, and she laughs bitterly. Aren’t the stakes always too high? Isn’t that why she left Caitlyn, alone in her bed wearing nothing but the set Vi had told her she liked? Isn’t that why Vi is so intent on reminding Jinx that she’s actually Powder?

Her hands are so bruised she can’t feel or move them properly. Vi becomes sluggish. Lazy.

After that, Vi tries a few times to go home with women she meets at bars. They all have dark hair, know their way around a weapon. But that numbness Vi thought she wanted so much has fully seeped in, and she can’t feel anything. It doesn’t bother Vi that she doesn’t get wet - it’s better not to, in fact, because the point of this is to remind herself that she has power, and can make someone shake underneath her. But everything is off. Vi can’t bring herself to pay enough attention to all these bodies, so she can’t tell what they like or when they’re close. Each night ends with Vi and the other girl unsatisfied and awkward.

Once or twice, Vi snakes her hand down her own pants. But nothing compares to the sheer intimacy she experienced with Cait, and Vi doesn’t think she deserves to feel that way after how she hurt Cait. Besides, she wants to prove to someone - even if it’s just herself - that she doesn’t need to feel good. Feeling good is a luxury. And luxuries aren’t for Vi. They’re for people like Cait.

It takes awhile for them to trust each other when they get back together. It isn’t pretty, it’s messy and imperfect and they fight more often than not. They’re apart five months, not long in the scheme of things, but it feels like they have to re learn everything.

But they make it. Cait is somehow even more patient, and Vi makes it a mission of hers to be understanding. When Vi shows up in Piltover, Cait makes her swear that she will never leave her again, not a third time, because Cait doesn’t know what will happen to either of them if Vi walks away.

And when Vi nods, Cait does something that she hasn’t does in five months.

She smiles. Exhausted and relieved, Cait thinks she might be happy. And then, she takes Vi’s hands. They’re more bruised than Cait remembers, but she couldn’t care less.

#ask #anon #request #req #caitvi #cait x vi #caitlyn x vi #caitlyn x violet #arcane #arcane fic #caitvi fic #caitvi smut #caitvi drabble #caitlyn kiramman #violyn #vi #cait #vi arcane #cait arcane

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asleeponelmstreet · 5 months ago

Text

Burnt (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3

Charlie takes you to a show, and you are confronted by your past.

Tags: Alastor x female reader, Blitzø x female reader, eventual smut, lots of angst, panic attacks, drug use, Charlie and Angel Dust being the best friends a reader could ask for

wc: 3,244

This takes place after S1 of Hazbin Hotel and before Helluva Boss S2 E7 Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special. I don't know if that timeline is canon, but it's what works for my story so that's what I'm doing.

You can also read this on AO3 here if you'd prefer.

Minors DNI!!!

Fuck.

This was not fucking happening.

Your muscles stiffened the moment you stepped outside of the bright pink limousine that took Charlie and you to the show. A tingling sensation crawled up the tips of your fingers as you realized the mistake you had made, not asking the princess who you were seeing in the first place. Now you found yourself facing a grand concert hall adorned with a gigantic banner for the most famous clown in all the seven rings of Hell, the great Fizzarolli.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him plastered on every available surface in the general vicinity. It had been impossible to ignore one of the most well-known faces in Hell, but you did your best to shove down all the emotions that just the mention of his name evoked from you. But here, surrounded by all these pictures of your long-lost friend, it was just too much.

A high-pitched ringing filled your ears, drowning out all the noise of the city as well as your heartbeat thrumming in your chest. After thanking the driver, Charlie grabbed your hand and pulled you towards a side door away from the main entrance. You let her tug you along, not trusting your own feet to carry your weight. You could vaguely hear her say, “Being the princess of Hell comes with some perks” through the buzzing in your ears.

She led you up a small flight of stairs, into an elevator that sped towards the top floor and through a doorway guarded by security and a red velvet rope. The whole time you wracked your brain for a way out, but you came up with nothing. Your mind was about as useless as soup, alphabet soup. The letters only came together to form self-hating words and phrases that were not helpful right now: Idiot. You should have known better. Coward. This is on you. Traitor. It’s all my fault. That last one is the only one not in your own cruel voice.

The room you found yourself in was elegant, almost entirely built of glass walls along with an open front window facing the stage. If you weren’t brimming with dread and starting to feel a bit nauseous, you would be giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing a live performance from these luxurious box seats, fit for demon royalty. Growing up an imp from a poor family, you never dreamt of being somewhere like this – getting to see how the other half lives.

Velvet couches faced the stage with a few cocktail tables brimming with finger foods interspersed throughout the room. A fully stocked bar took up the back wall, complete with a bartender who didn’t appear to be drinking (or sleeping) on the job. A part of you wished Husk was behind the bar instead to bring some much needed comfort from your new life into this blast from the past. “Soooo what do you think? Isn’t it amazing?!” Charlie asked excitedly, waving her hands around as if she couldn’t keep her happiness to just her beaming smile.

Someone else entered the room before you could answer saving you for a few more moments. You didn’t know how it was possible, but Charlie’s face lit up even more when she saw them. “Uncle Ozzie!” she practically screamed as you turned to face the person who had joined you in what you had thought was a private space. You would have recognized him even if Charlie hadn’t said the name – though, you didn’t know him personally. Asmodeus, the King of Lust.

Your friend did a running jump into his arms, wrapping him in a great big bear hug. He reciprocated the tight embrace, planting a chaste kiss on the top of her blonde head before settling back down on the floor as if she were a child and not the tall, lanky thing before you.

“It’s always a pleasure to receive one of your strangling hugs Charlie.” His voice was as deep and smooth as you imagined the finest bourbon. “I’m so glad you finally made it to one of Fizz’s shows! How’s that dear old dad of yours? Haven’t seen him in quite a while.”

Charlie talked with THE embodiment of Lust as if he was a close family friend, but your mind wouldn’t let go of the familiarity in which he said Fizz’s name. You knew at that moment that the gossip columns you tried your best to avoid were right. Hell’s worst-kept secret was true. The powerful demon had a much more intimate relationship with your old friend than just working together on the popular sexbots made in Fizz’s image.

“Forgive me, I should introduce you two,” Charlie said. At the mention of your name, you thought you saw something — maybe a flicker of recognition in his eyes. You wondered if Fizz told him about you. But you quickly pushed the thought away, not wanting to think of what he would have revealed to the powerful demon now standing before you.

The show was about to begin, and Asmodeus motioned to you two to join him on the couch. You complied, but you were still on edge, trying to decide the best way to get out of this situation without offending Charlie who so sweetly invited you out tonight.

After all these years apart, you were about to see Fizz perform with his secret beau sitting only a princess of Hell away. You tried to ignore him, the way he looked at you as if you were a puzzle to be solved. Looking out into the crowd below was worse. Fans decked in merchandise featuring Fizz’s name and likeness filled the seats. They were screaming his name, cheering him on even before he appeared on stage. Some of the freaks were even debauching their sexbots right there in the crowd.

It was still hard to think of all the freaks who had their hands on him (even robot versions of him) since the last time you touched him. The overt sexualization of Fizz made you feel even sicker than you were before if that was even possible. You had seen it all before, but only in small doses. You even came across several of his robot clones throughout the years but did your best to steer clear of them at all costs. If you ever did, you had to remind yourself repeatedly that it wasn’t him – even if the RoboFizzs looked identical in every way.

But he was everywhere here. His name, his face, his fucking body. His body. Just thinking about what the fire did to his body made bile rise in your throat. And what they did and are probably still doing to his body today. The room started to spin the more you got lost in your thoughts, you gripped the armrests to ground yourself. That’s when you noticed Asmodeus eying your nails digging into the supple velvet.

The curtains parted and his small figure appeared center stage. Your stomach lurched and you felt tears coming. Damn, you’ve already cried so much today. You didn’t think your ego could handle it anymore. But it was too much. His arms and legs stretched out to unnatural lengths as he said something, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the roaring crowd. That’s it. I’m out of here, you thought. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you ran towards the door cradling your stomach. Charlie jumped up to show you the way, you assumed, but you bolted towards the door before she could catch up to you.

Once you locked yourself in the bathroom stall, you fell forward releasing the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. It burned – probably from the hot sauce – and tears stuck tufts of your hair to your forehead. You tried to pull at your hair to keep it from falling into the bowl as you retched, but it was no use. You were a mess.

The knock at the stall door didn’t startle you. You knew who it was. “You know there’s a private bathroom a bit closer to our seats…” she paused as if reconsidering what to say. “Can I help you?” You gave in because damn you really did need help. You fumbled at the lock on the door until it opened, and she was down on the floor by your side.

“I can hold your hair back for you,” and with that, she took the ribbon from her hair and tied it around your own. Even with it tied back she gently held your hair keeping it from falling over your shoulders as you continued to throw up.

Once your stomach was emptied of everything that you had eaten that day, you lay your head against the wall and let yourself cry. “I’m sorry you’re missing the show,” you choked out.

“Shh, it’s okay. I can come back any time,” she cooed. She took your hands in hers and just held them in silence as you continued your embarrassing meltdown. After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you think it’s something you ate?”

“No—uh, yeah. Maybe?” You said, shaking your head. You just blew your best excuse. Why hadn’t you thought about feigning sickness? Probably because your brain was just about as functioning as that summer when you spent all your earnings on heroin and horse tranquilizers. That would be preferred to how you were feeling right now.

Charlie moved in closer to your side, wrapping your shaking body up in her long limbs and rubbing soothing circles into your sore muscles. “Would it help to talk about it?” she asked. “If you don’t want to, I understand. I can tell you’re holding a lot in. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

You were so used to holding it all in. Holding it all back. Her comforting presence made you think that if you opened up just a bit, it may provide some relief. But you wouldn’t crack, you knew better. If you told her everything, she would never look at you the same way again. You couldn’t lose her or the hotel. They were the only things that gave your life a purpose anymore. “I’m not ready,” you said. She didn’t frown or let disappointment show on her face, but you imagined that she expected you to open up. She lived for those sappy heart-to-heart conversations that you avoided at all costs.

Charlie sat with you on the floor of the bathroom in silence until you were ready to leave. She explained that she just needed to say goodbye to Asmodeus and then the two of you could go back to the hotel.

Once you were back in the private room, you hung back while she told him you weren’t feeling well. Charlie had done a good job at helping you fix up your makeup and hair in the bathroom, but you knew the demon of lust didn’t have to be very perceptive to know why you had missed the start of the performance.

Before you could escape the door, his eyes locked with yours. His gaze startingly soft. “Charlie has my number if you would ever like to see Fizz. I can speak with him.” He danced around it as if not wanting to reveal anything, but you knew. The fact that he said see and not meet. He knew something and this was an invitation.

The ride back was silent as stared out the back window, thinking about what Asmodeus said the whole way home. What did it mean really? Was there a possibility that Fizz didn’t hate you? Or that he could forgive you? You couldn’t even begin to wrap your mind around it.

You walked into the hotel lobby, expecting to have to make up an excuse for why you were back hours early. Luckily, it was just Husk asleep with a half-empty bottle of liquor behind the bar. Charlie pulled you in for one last hug, reminding you that if you needed anything she would be there before the two of you went your separate ways.

Once you were in the privacy of your room, you slumped on your newly made bed. You didn’t bother to bathe or change before you curled up into a ball. You wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t. You had already shed more tears today than you had in your entire life. More than after the fire. More than when you learned your parents died. More than when Fizz refused to see you. More than when he left.

Sleep didn’t come. No matter how many times you tried to empty your mind of all the thoughts clouding it. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the darkness behind your eyelids gave way to Fizz’s face. Seeing it plastered on every poster in the concert hall and briefly on stage before you made a run for the bathroom brought back so many memories. His little head tossed back in a fit of giggles, that smirk he threw your way amid a round of applause and those wide eyes full of hope before you turned your back on him.

After tossing and turning in bed for over an hour, you gave up. You tiptoed to your dresser where you found your hidden stash in your underwear drawer. Sitting astride the open windowsill that looked out on Pentagram City, you thought about how you found comfort in the place you least expected.

As you exhaled smoke, the tension in your body released a little. A few more inhales silenced your unquiet mind, letting you focus on the better parts of the day. Like Angel rushing to your side in the morning. And how kind it was of Charlie to invite you out in the first place. And was that a compliment you received from Alastor – of all the sinners in Hell? That overlord may have come from Earth, but the stories about his reign of terror preceded him.

A soft knock at your door had you scrambling to put your joint out and hide it along with the rest of your stash behind a curtain. Probably not the smartest move, but you weren’t exactly thinking clearly.

The door creaked open, and the top of Angel’s head peaked into your room, “It’s just me. Don’t worry the fun police is fast asleep.” You sighed in relief. Though you had a feeling Charlie would have been a bit more understanding of your rule-breaking after the day you had. “Is that fuckin’ grass, babe? What are we in the fourth grade?” the spider teased.

“It helps with the nausea… and my nerves,” you said tossing your hair out of your face before relighting what was left of your joint. You motioned for him to join you if he wanted. Though, you had a feeling he would have preferred some of his namesake or at least some Devil’s Dandruff as Charlie liked to call it.

For all that teasing, the porn demon still didn’t refuse a high. Angel joined you on the windowsill and took what was left of the joint you offered him as you lit another. “I saw Charlie earlier,” he said slowly between puffs as if he was trying not to rile a rabid animal. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, some.” You mumbled, perfectly content with smoking in silence but also not hating the company. Angel looked out at the skyline, gazing over all the bright glittering lights from all the buildings filled with sinners who never seemed to sleep.

“Why did you come here?” He asked. “You could’ve gone anywhere in Hell, but you moved to this tacky-ass hotel.” You smiled, knowing it was all a façade. Maybe he crashed at the hotel for a free rent at first but since you’ve gotten to know him, you knew he cared about it, about Charlie and her dream of redeeming sinners. “We don’t even know if sinners can get into Heaven.”

“I know there’s no way for imps to get into Heaven. That’s not why I’m here.” You let out a sigh. “But there are other ways to redeem yourself even if you’re not getting anything out of it.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of redemption?” Your immediate thought was no, but you did technically want redemption for selfish reasons even if they weren’t the same as his.

“I guess, but I’m not trying to get into heaven. I just wanted to help, and I thought it might help me find some relief.”

“Relief from what?”

“All the guilt.” You looked down at your lap, knowing it sounded stupid.

Angel cackled. “What do you have to be guilty of? You’re a fucking demon.”

“Well, I’ve killed more than I can count.”

“Ha! Haven’t we all?”

“True. And I don’t feel guilty for most of it.”

“Then, what is it?”

Although the conversation was getting a bit too serious for your liking, you felt like you owed him some truth. “I hurt the people I love. And even after losing everything, I keep doing it over and over again.”

Angel’s expression grew serious, and he thought for a moment before speaking. “We all do that. It comes with the territory.”

“No, you don’t understand.” You looked away from him. “It’s different.”

“Everyone thinks they’re different, hon. You’re not special.”

“I guess.” You pouted, wanting this conversation to be over. Maybe you could change the subject to something else. “Alastor complimented me today…” You noticed the time on the alarm clock beside your bed. “Or I guess, yesterday.”

“Al complimented you?! Didn’t know he had it in him. Are you sure he wasn’t sizing you up for a meal? What’d he say?”

“He said I looked absolutely divine,” you used your best impression of the radio demon when saying those two words.

“Oh, yeah. He totally wants to eat you.” You giggled, but Angel went on. “And not in a sexy way. I don’t think he’s interested. I would know because he keeps turning me down. Me!”

“Maybe he plays for another team,” you mused.

“Or he doesn’t even play the game at all. Because anyone would be all over this.” He emphasized his point by motioning to his body and doing a slutty little hip thrust that almost shifted him out the window. You grabbed him by the shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall as you tried to contain your laughter.

“You’re right. Anyone who refuses you is out of their mind!” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t mock me. You know it’s true. I’m surprised we haven’t hooked up yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I like you too much, Angie. I haven’t had a real friend in a long time, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” You also had a feeling he’d much rather be fucking Husk or Al than messing around with you.

“Why would it ruin it?” He leaned into you seductively, close enough that your lips were almost touching. “C’mon, it’d be hot,” he purred.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” you crooned. “Maybe someday, but not today.” You could see it being fun, but that’s all it would be. And although you weren’t a saint, you tried to avoid those kinds of situations now.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, wondering if Angel knew how much you needed this distraction.

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I know Alastor isn't in this chapter but he'll be back, I promise. And if you're patiently waiting for Blitzø, don't worry I am too. I had to post this so I would stop worrying about it and finally be able to focus on the next part. It may have a little bit of spice. But shhhh... you didn't hear that from me.

tag list: @sirens-and-moonflowers @whoknowswhoiamtoday y'all literally made my week, thank you <3

#fan fiction #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel alastor #eventual smut #helluva boss hazbin hotel crossover #helluva boss blitzo #alastor x reader #blitzo x reader

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crowsongcaws · 7 months ago

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Empires S1 Scott and Empires S2 Jimmy, no angst as a treat

Dear Jimmy Solidarity,

Thank you for your assistance in adjusting to this new world of yours.

...Maybe that was too formal.

Dear Jimmy Solidarity,

Thank you for your assistance in adjusting to this new world of yours. for helping me find a place to stay. I was not expecting to end up in a world like yours, and it has been devastating and disorienting to me from the very beginning. I am still off-put by the increasingly horrifying realization that I may never return back to the world I knew, but I have appreciated your company.

...and that was far too depressing.

Dear Jimmy Solidarity,

Your kindness knows no bounds, and I am eternally grateful for that. You truly are lovely inside and out. Put in your position, I would be cautious of someone like me claiming to not be from this world, but your belief in my words and trust in me has kept me sane. grounded.

If you ever find yourself in need of help, know that I am here, and I will do my best to provide the help you need. In the meantime, maybe you could show me around the other empires? I remember you mentioning that you'd like to fly, and I have wings, so I'm sure I could carry you.

Well Wishes, Yours, Thanks,

Emperor Smajor Scott Smajor Scott

Scott stared at the mess of ink on the paper for a moment before crumpling it up into a ball. He promptly threw the ball somewhere into the depths of the room, but more importantly, he threw it out of sight. Retrieving another sheet of paper, he began to write again.

Dear Jimmy,

Thank you.

- Scott

Again, Scott stared.

Since when had writing a letter been so difficult?

Since I found myself stuck in a world where my empire, status, and customs don't exist or matter, Scott's mind "helpfully" supplied for him.

He leaned back in his chair—a habit he found himself doing because no one would judge his entire empire for it—and let his wings sag partially onto the wooden flooring. Even if this position made him more comfortable, the tension wouldn't leave his shoulders.

He could only guess that it was because of Jimmy.

Jimmy—who had seen him and immediately realized he wasn't from any recognizable empire of his—had allowed him shelter at his own home in the guest bedroom. He'd heard Scott explain his story and had believed him. Every day, Jimmy showed him new things and new places and new people. He helped Scott learn to adjust to the brutally dry heat and sand of Tumblr Town, which was a drastic change to his year-round snow-covered and mountainous home of Rivendell.

Still, despite all the kindness, Jimmy made him tense. He felt the need to impress him despite having no reasonable means of doing so, and yet he always managed to do something that made Jimmy's whole demeanor light up like the northern lights in the night sky. Stuff that Scott himself felt had no value really entertained Jimmy like the ice magic he had, his unnaturally cold skin, the fact that he knew how to and consistently used an ink quill, and "how fancy he spoke" among other things.

But, in truth, there were small things that Jimmy did that impressed him just as much, even if he didn't show it as openly as Jimmy did. He was shocked, of course, by the kindness the sheriff of this town consistently showed him and everyone else, but on top of that, he found himself surprised with how well Jimmy could stop a bar fight (even when he got insulted in the process), the way he knew how to get a cranky horse to calm down (even if he nearly got kicked into next century), and the fluid skill and knowledge he had to help just about anyone in Tumble Town.

Even more surprising was that none of that kindness faded behind closed doors. He wouldn't have blamed Jimmy for being bitter in the privacy of his own home, and he'd suspected that whatever benefits he had as a sheriff overruled any urge to leave, but Jimmy really was that optimistic.

And speaking of Jimmy, it was the very same man who was currently knocking on his door before opening it (what was the point of knocking if he'd open the door right after, anyways?).

"Afternoon, Scott! Just came to tell you that Mrs Peterson from across town brought some brownies for you to try if you want some!" Jimmy cheerfully told him.

Then, at the very moment Scott realized his letter was still out in the open, so did Jimmy.

"Oooh! Writing again with your fancy feather ink? Whatcha writing?" he curiously asked.

"Nothing," Scott said, and to prove as much, he crumpled that paper up, too, and tossed it in the opposite direction.

Jimmy tilted his head like a confused puppy, but ultimately didn't question it to Scott's relief.

"Well," Jimmy drawled, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight to the top of the valley? It's easier to see the stars and today's the day they say Tumble Town was founded, so the whole town's going to be covered in lights!"

Why would I want to look at a whole sky of stars or a town of lights when I already live with the human embodiment of sunshine?

Scott briefly considered bashing his head into a wall.

"Sure, that sounds fun," is what Scott said instead. "Do you want to walk up there or fly? I really do think I'd be able to hold you long enough to fly us both up there."

Jimmy's much smaller wings fluttered, but he still looked unsure.

"You can say no," Scott added.

"Maybe next time? I do want to, I'm just not sure if I should," Jimmy explained.

"Alright, then I'll ask later."

Jimmy smiled, and this time, Scott thought about a place unlike Rivendell or Tumble Town—a place without snow and full of life. Everything about him reminded Scott of blooming flowers.

"I'll get you when it's time! But I've got to go help everyone put up their lights for tonight, 'specially the older folks around!" Jimmy said. "Have a good time writing! Bye, Scott!"

Scott nodded in acknowledgement, and then Jimmy was out the door.

In that moment of silence, Scott sighed and grabbed another sheet of paper. The gentle scritch scritch scritch of the quill on paper soothed him.

Dear Jimmy,

Thank you for being you.

- Scott

"Oh, Aeor, I'm screwed," Scott groaned, shutting his eyes.

But when he shut his eyes, he heard canaries outside and thought of stars and tan skin.

#flower husbands #empiresblr #empires s2 #empires s1 #empires scott #empires jimmy

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romanticatheartt · 6 months ago

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Do you remember how I said I won't be watching s3? Yes, I'm a lying liar through and through lol my sister said let's watch it and I love watching movies or TV shows with her, and tbh we had a good laugh😭💀

Okay so here are my thoughts:

First of all: KATE AND ANTHONY. Omg they're everything to me!! They were only in one episode but they made that episode theirs. I just love seeing them blissfully happy and living in their own bubble. I'm both sad and glad they were only in one episode. Because I wouldn't put it past the writers to give them some unnecessary drama and conflict. At the same time their screen time was so little... I suppose we can't have it all :')

Francesca. Omg I love her so much. I already loved her from the books but the show? God, she's so cute and beautiful. Hannah played her to perfection and I'm glad she's the new Francesca. Even when you read the books, that's how you imagine Fran's character. Both she and Kate have a special place in my heart.

John... my god John is here. And I'm already too attached to him. I can't- Listen, I know my heart will break when his time comes. The actor was such a good choice for his character and I was on the verge of crying whenever he appeared with Fran. She was always so happy to see him. I never thought two characters/actors could have this much chemistry while sitting in silence. GOD I LOVE THEM and I'm ready for heartbreak :D We still have no Michael but I'll keep hoping for him to appear because my god... Francesca's book is filled with angst I just hope when it's her turn, they do it justice<3

I actually enjoyed Eloise and Cressida. I never thought I'd say this but I did!! I know they made 180 changes about her character in the new season but I don't really care lol I just hope she works it out with Debling so at least she'll be free from her parents.

People keep saying they don't like Eloise this season but she's so much better than me. I would've been so much worse... The first thing I would've done was give Pen's name to the queen but she kept it this whole time and was actually worried about Pen... she was kind enough to a person who ruined her and her family, not once but twice.

There are too many side plots in this season. Like I don't want to be pathetic but we've been saying that since s2 and y'all called us delusional and said to be grateful because it was more than enough. But now that I see even Polin fans have a problem with this season makes me so happy and sad at the same time. Because when this happened to your favs, it's a real issue...

I love LD and QC friendship so much!! And QC & Brimsly. These friendships were more shaped since QC spin-off and I really enjoyed it.

It's obvious to me that they don't know what to do with Ben's plot lol. Because creating these unnecessary original characters is doing a disadvantage to the whole show. I really hope we see Sophie this season.

Okay I've avoided the inevitable as much as I could lol so let's talk about the main couple:

They have no chemistry. I know some might not agree with me but there's no chemistry for me. It has always been like this since s1. At least I don't feel anything special between them. Nicola is a wonderful actor and is carrying the whole ship on her shoulders and I said what I said.

Luke wasn't good at portraying Colin at all. He has no charisma and is trying too hard. I'm not talking about his character wanting to be something he's not but talking about the acting in general, so don't come for me with that argument. They really tried to make him like Anthony but failed miserably. Which is sad because even tho I haven't read their book, he in other books was absolutely my favorite side character. Me and my sister were laughing our asses off at some of his actings like sir... pls don't😭 I'm being super mean omg

The pacing of their relationship was weird. When he proposed to her I was so shocked like in episode 4? Already? Then I remembered in s1 we had the same situation but in s1 it felt right. It wasn't weird or felt too soon or too late, it was right. With Polin, everything felt out of order. I think they didn't want to focus much on building it up because they felt they already did in the past 2 seasons but it just felt off in the end. They weren't even together much on screen to feel like it's building up!! There was no arc or if it was, it was too subtle that if you blink you'll miss it.

The other problem with their plot was the similarity between s1 and s3. Simon was trying to help Daphne to find a husband and Colin is doing the same thing. Except s1 main trope was Fake Dating and s3 was Friends to Lover.

Which brings me to another reason why I didn't like s3. Friends to Lovers trope. Honestly, this is a me problem. I've never liked this trope at all. I really tried to change my mind about it, like reading books with this trope but most of the time I'm left unsatisfied or hating the book. Unfortunately, s3 was no different. This trope always comes off as unpassionate for me. Which I think it's the trope. Because it's supposed to be cute and subtle and I'm not sure it's really my thing. So I guess the major reason for my dislike of this season is the trope.

There were 2 fkn scenes of Colin participating in a threesome... That was so fkn bad like I can't believe this just happened. And one of them was after he kissed Penelope... I don't care that he didn't continue but... OUGH it gave the ick so bad, I didn't even watch it, just fast-forwarded it.

That carriage scene was okay-ish? It didn't leave me breathless like the Kanthony scenes did. Tbh s2 left me in a shamble with how much emotions I felt with those two. But with s3, I had the exact opposite feeling toward the main couple.

Anyway, I think this season, revealing LW's identity was their priority which is why they weren't so focused on the romance (?) idk but I feel like part 2 won't be any different than part 1 and they're gonna throw some sex scenes to make it up for the romance lol

ps: I know I said s4 will be Benedict's and I still think it will be but if they decide to make it Francesca's? Oh, I wouldn't mind at all!!

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #kanthony #kathony #francesca bridgerton #john sterling #eloise bridgerton #eloise x cressida #benedict bridgerton #simone ashley #jonathan bailey #hannah dodd

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thatturtleleon · 1 year ago

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KOBD HCs Pt.2

pt.1 here !

alrighty I was nice last time with fluffy hcs, now for some angsty ones to start it off

after breakdown got his eye taken, he sometimes wakes up and forgets it's gone and panics for a few seconds when he can't see from that optic

he tries to play it off, acting like nothing happened, but knockout notices

KO isn't really sure what to do, he knows he can't take away what happened to breakdown

so he gently kisses his eyepatch, breakdown flinches a little at first but knows he's safe

when breakdown died, knockout assumed he went missing or was captured again (i think this is canon, its been a while since ive watched s1 so just bare with me lol), BD dying didn't even cross KO's mind

not until he finally saw what silas did

I believe that knockout stated the whole situation didn't bother him, simply because he was too numb to process it

he didn't do anything, there wasn't really anything to do. nothing would bring his conjunx back

(ill expand more on the angst in a separate post but that was a taste)

OK SOME LESS ANGSTY STUFF NOW

breakdown likes to carry knockout

breakdown works out specifically so he can carry knockout

he also likes to show off how strong he is, knockout does the same and shows off how fast he can go

knockout can yell and breakdown immediately knows if it's a "i'm in trouble" yell or a "MY FRAGGING PAINTJOB GOT SCRATCHED AGAIN" yell

speaking of which, they patch each other up after missions

KO took BD to a drive in movie theater once and they watched titanic

both cried

this next hc is based off of a post i saw! ill have to hunt for it again but ill link it here when i find it

for their honeymoon, knockout and breakdown went to the acid wastes so breakdown could drive as much as he wanted to without worrying abt getting burned by the sun (the area they're from, from what i read, has a sun that can burn bots if they don't get away from the light fast enough)

breakdown's the type of dude to (if he could) drink expired milk, shrug, then proceed to still drink it as knockout watches in horror

both of them treat vehicons like actual decent people, unlike the other higher ranking decepticons. because of this, KOBD is very well liked by them, especially breakdown

Note: ahhh these are so fun to make, i love them sm !! tagging @virovirokun-has-adhd and @b1ts-4nd-byt3s-1n-p4r4d1se

#tfp #transformers #transformers prime #tf #tf prime #tfp kobd #kobd #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #tfp knockout and breakdown #knockout x breakdown #kobd hcs #tfp kobd hcs #tfp hcs #macaddam #maccaddams #transformers prime headcanons #knockout #breakdown

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bokunoheros · 2 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ iida tenya saving you, hcs 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🪲 authors note:// “hcs,” more like vague story post smh. but, for some context, this will be taken place in S1 during the USJ attack. in a follow up part, this will feature pro-hero!tenya for a sequel! fyi— reader has a intimidation quirk that makes them more of a support rather than a main dps; which is what gets them caught in this situation in the first place— [yes, this is based off my oc, and yes this a/n is fucking long. suck me off. ]

topics discussed & warnings:// descriptions of physical violence, blood, bruises, wounds, etc., mentions of death but no one actually dies, don’t worry baby, no death here, semi-angst, and can’t forget the comfort, you both kind of have feelings for each other but it doesn’t come to anything, my bad, drabble.

word count:// 498-ish

ᯓ heed the warnings laid before you, your media consumption is your responsibility! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

every WORD under this cut is PG-13 RATED— check warnings before reading.

𝜗𝜚 edited and proof read by the lovely calius .ᐟ xoxo

✎ᝰ Maybe it was the look in your eyes, maybe it was the blood dripping from your forehead— maybe it was his own feelings that stared back at you. His engines fired— the heels of his costume kicking up dirt as he unconsciously hauled ass towards you. He didn’t even know what he was doing, he didn’t decide to act, no. He just did.

The villain above you, actively moving to launch a vehicle in your general direction, seemed to slow down. Time almost stopped, Tenya’s heartbeat rang in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins, asphalt cracking underneath his weight as he sprinted towards you.

He wasted no time, not a fraction of a second even if it was an unconscious decision to launch himself into the air, kicking off the ground with a metallic crunch. Lifting his leg, his engines forced him forward until the bottom of his foot made contact with the villain's temple, echoing a gruesome crunch through the street. You covered your head with your arms, forcing yourself closer to the ground as the car plummeted into a nearby building rather than your body.

The villain staggered, his body wobbling before crashing into the asphalt, launching dust several acres into the air. Tenya landed on the street with a huff, looking back at the unconscious villain’s form.

What the fuck? He could’ve died, hell, you could’ve died— but he still ran head first for you.

He glanced back at you, his engines stuttering again as he took off to grab you. He picked you up bridal style, only throwing you over his shoulder shortly after.

“I’ve got you,” he said, taking a breath as he held the back of your thighs, continuing to run.

He carried you until the prescience of villains were no more, screeching to a halt in an alleyway.

“We’re safe, don’t worry.” He said with a stifled groan as he sat you down, leaning you against the brick wall behind you. Your hands brushed as he placed you down, staring into your eyes.

“Thanks,” you muttered back, glancing away. You bring your hand to your forehead, tapping the cut on your skin with a hiss. Tenya winces just watching you do so alone, taking your wrist before pulling your hand away.

“It’s not so bad, yeah?” He gave you a small, kind smile, shifting in his feet while he crouched. “I’ll get you out of here, okay?”

“Thanks for saving my ass,” You swear you can see him blushing. “Suppose I owe you one?”

THANK YOU FOR READING! if you wish to see more of me, ₊⊹

my carrd // kofi (tip me!)

#bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #tenya iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #iida tenya #tenya iida #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #admin 🪲

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prettygirl-gabi · 2 months ago

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The Heartbeat of the Island

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Rating: Teen And Up

Warning: reader being called out of name: "cunt" (ONCE), reader calls rafe a cunt, Angst, !soft rafe (whattt), slight fluff, happy ending, lmk if I missed any

Category:F/M

Fandom: Outerbanks (obx), Netflix TV series

Relationships: S1 beginning of S2 rafe x !Pogue f plus-size reader

Summary: Rafe and a plus-size Pogue reader clash as enemies from opposite sides of the island, but simmering tensions ignite unexpected passion, leading them from rivalry to a slow-burn romance.

Thinking about making a pt2... lmk

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"Rafe Cameron". Even his name felt like a punch to the gut. Every time I heard it, every time I saw him, my insides twisted. He was everything I wasn’t. Tall, lean, golden-haired, and rich—the epitome of a Kook. And me? I was a Pogue. Curvy, hip dips, no thigh gaps,dark-haired, a little rough around the edges. I worked at a local surf shop, spent my evenings with my friends by the beach bonfires, and wore my outsider status with pride. But there was no denying the fact that the Kooks ruled this island. And Rafe Cameron? He was their king.

I first ran into him—literally—during the off-season. Tourists had gone home, leaving the island to the locals. It was a brisk morning, and I was jogging down to the pier. My mind was lost in the rhythm of my steps, the ocean breeze tugging at my hair, when out of nowhere, someone barreled into me.

“Oof!” I stumbled back, landing on the rough wooden boards of the pier. Pain shot through my elbow where it had struck the ground.

“Watch where you’re going,” a deep, irritated voice barked.

I looked up, and there he was. Rafe Cameron in all his infuriating glory, standing over me with a scowl on his perfect face.

“You ran into me,” I shot back, scrambling to my feet. I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me, even if he was towering over me like some kind of Greek god.

He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy daydreaming, you wouldn’t have been in the way.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but before I could, he was already walking away, his long strides carrying him down the pier as if nothing had happened.

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.

***

A few weeks passed, and I did my best to avoid Rafe Cameron. It wasn’t hard. Our worlds rarely intersected, and that was fine by me. But the island wasn’t that big, and fate—or whatever twisted force controlled this place—had other plans.

It was late afternoon when I found myself back on the pier, sitting on the edge with my legs dangling over the water. The surf shop had closed early, and I’d needed some time to think. The sky was a watercolor of pinks and oranges, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon. The peace of the moment was shattered by the sound of footsteps behind me.

“You’re in my spot,” a familiar voice drawled.

I turned, my heart sinking when I saw Rafe standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at me with that same annoyed expression.

“Last time I checked, this pier didn’t have assigned seating,” I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, he walked closer, stopping just a few feet away from me. His eyes were locked on the ocean, not me, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to ignore me and sit down anyway. But then he surprised me.

“You always hang out here?” he asked, his tone oddly neutral.

I blinked. Was this Rafe Cameron actually making small talk? I shrugged, not sure where this was going. “Sometimes. It’s quiet, and the view’s nice.”

He nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “I come here to think,” he said, almost to himself.

I studied him for a moment. His usual arrogant air was missing, replaced by something almost...human. It threw me off, and before I knew it, I was asking, “What do you have to think about, Rafe?”

He let out a harsh laugh, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised.”

Silence fell between us, the only sound the gentle lapping of the waves against the pier. It was strange, being here with him, not fighting. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I found myself speaking before I could stop myself.

“You know, you don’t always have to be an asshole.”

His gaze snapped to mine, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place crossing his features. But then it was gone, replaced by that infuriating smirk. “And you don’t always have to be so sensitive.”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’m not sensitive, Rafe. I just call it like I see it.”

“Is that right?” He stepped closer, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “And what do you see?”

I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was. His blue eyes were locked on mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. This was not how I’d expected this encounter to go.

“I see a guy who thinks he owns the world because he’s a Cameron,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “But I also see someone who’s more than just a Kook.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and I wondered if I’d said too much. But then he surprised me again.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he said quietly.

“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But I’m willing to bet there’s more to you than you let on.”

He didn’t respond, just stared at me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to figure something out. Before i could open my mouth again he says "Go fuck yourself, cunt." And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me more confused, pissed than ever.

***

Our interactions didn’t stop there. Over the next few weeks, we kept running into each other—at the pier, in town, at the beach. And every time, there was a little less animosity, a little more...something else. We argued, sure, but it was different now. There was a tension between us, one that neither of us seemed willing to acknowledge but couldn’t quite ignore.

It all came to a head one night at a party on the beach. The bonfire was roaring, music blaring, people dancing and laughing. I was sitting on a log, nursing a drink, when I felt someone sit down next to me. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“You’re not exactly the life of the party,” Rafe commented, nudging my shoulder with his.

“Neither are you, cunt” I shot back, but there was a smile tugging at my lips.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Why do you hate me?”

The question caught me off guard, and I turned to face him, searching his eyes. There was no trace of his usual arrogance, just genuine curiosity.

“I don’t hate you,” I said slowly. “You just...you make it really hard to like you sometimes. You know like when you called me a cunt for example.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “I guess I deserve that. I do genuinely apologize for calling tou a cunt, you were right and it hurt to have a pouge tell me something ona deeper level.”

I bit my lip, debating whether or not to say what was on my mind. But in the end, I figured I had nothing to lose.

“You know, Rafe...you don’t have to be the person everyone expects you to be. You can be...more.”

He looked at me, really looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a vulnerability in his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. “And who do you think I can be?”

I hesitated, then reached out, taking his hand in mine. His fingers were warm, strong, and for a moment, I just held on, feeling the connection between us. “Someone who’s not afraid to be himself. Someone who doesn’t have to put on a front.”

He stared at our hands, then back at me, something softening in his gaze. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” I admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

For a moment, we just sat there, the firelight flickering around us, the sound of the ocean in the background. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I didn’t pull away. When his lips finally brushed against mine, it was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters.

And then, just like that, the kiss deepened. His hand came up to cup my cheek, and I melted into him, all the tension, all the animosity between us dissolving in that moment. When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other.

“Maybe I’ve been wrong about you,” Rafe murmured, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

“Maybe we’ve both been wrong,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled then, a real, genuine smile, and I felt something warm bloom in my chest. Maybe this was the beginning of something new. Something real.

And for the first time in a long time, I found myself looking forward to what came next.

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

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