#i can truly say this thing took my blood and sweat <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[weaselishmcdiesel]

listening to wade's secret words and bob said "you know what's dangerous about technology thinking you're a clever boy and thinking you can build your own computer you don't know what pain is until you've bent pins on a cpu" tee hee ^_^ i guess that makes me a clever boy

[strandsofgold]

For @reallyhatethiswebsite, hope you like it and thank you for the prompt <3 I am so so sorry that this took as long as it did, but I loved this prompt so much that I couldn't physically stop myself from turning it into way more than the short, little ficlet it was supposed to be. Whoops. Prompt: Tav nuts before Raphael does for once 👀

TW: Implied non-con (just to be safe), but I would sooner say very dubious consent because deep down there is a part of Tav that deeply enjoys Raphael's treatment of her Kink tags: Belly bulge, forced orgasms, rough sex, choking (kind of), painful sex, cervix-bumping, inappropriate use of mage hand

A Little Death

It is a sudden thing, her orgasm. It seises her, knocks the wind out of her, thighs shaking as that thin string of restraint snaps as if it was sliced in two by the tip of a claw. It drags her to the highest of highs, even when her muscles burn and her breasts ache, the pleasure overwhelms and drowns any discomfort she may have had.

A gasp, pitiful even to her own ears, spills from her mouth, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

When Raphael stills, so does the world.

Where she once rode him with abandon, his cock lodged deep inside her, his hips raising every now and again to meet her halfway between the bed and her, there is now nothing but quiet and stillness and the unceasing pressure of his fingers digging into the meat of her waist as he holds her still.

And Tav, in turn, does her best to quiet down and subdue her body as well, but she cannot—she truly cannot—her heart thundering away in her chest and cunt clenching around him as if trying to force him to meet his end just as soon as her. Sweat drips down the sides of her face. Her rapid breathing only intensifies when she looks down at him, her eyes meeting the amber brown of his iris.

He looks decadent in his human form, just as he always does. But there is a storm brewing in the fine lines of his face. A twitch at the corner of his eyes. The beginning of furrow by his brows.

"I—" She tries, she desperately tries to make it up to him—"I am sorry."

When that garners her no reaction other than the flare of his nostrils, she attempts to move once again, attempts to roll her hips—attempts to emulate Haarlep who would simply keep going in order to satisfy their master and distract him from the slight made against him.

But she is not Haarlep.

Raphael tuts, lighthearted almost, as the corners of his mouth stretch upwards. But his smile is all teeth, a violent kind of glee in his eyes as his grip on her waist tightens, finely trimmed, human nails digging into her skin. Thankfully, they are not sharp enough to draw blood.

He only ever makes her blood in his true form.

"So insatiable, little mouse," is all he says before Tav's world spins on its axis.

In the span of a second, she is beneath him, hands pinned on each side of her head. He is still inside her, his cock twitching every now and again—it betrays his interest, his desire.

Raphael looks at her, all smug and... calm. Too calm. His tail lazily swishes to and fro behind him. It is frightening.

As he is now, Raphael is unpredictable.

When they fuck—and it is fucking, they are not lovers, no matter how often Raphael refers to himself as such—it is always about his pleasure, first and foremost. He 'indulges' her, as he likes to say. And there are rules to these indulgences; some have been explicitly stated—'Do not touch my wings, you ingrate!'—whereas others have been implicit, recognisable only through their repeated pattern.

This is one of the implicit ones: Raphael always comes first.

Always. No exceptions.

Tav retreats—as much as she can—presses herself into the bed as if it will swallow her if she merely sinks far enough down. It is the closest thing to escape she will have tonight.

And Raphael, the bastard, laughs at her, that rich, smooth laughter that reminds her of fine brandy ringing in her ears.

"Why so gloomy, oh apple of my eye?" he asks her—mocks her, really, head tilted and eyes widened in the closest thing to innocence a devil like him can muster, feigned as it is. "I am nothing if not a magnanimous lover."

Tav is not so naive as to not see the threat for what it is.

Still, the wall of smoke and fire and magic that consumes him as his human glamour falls apart makes you gasp all the same. The flames lick at her skin, fine kisses of warmth a distraction only for so long. Because with the loss of his human figure makes way for his true one. His devil form.

And with the change in appearance—fine, olive skin making way for red, leathery ones—comes a change in size.

He forces her open, her walls stretching to accomodate him, the rim of her already sore cunt aching at his size. He swells and expands until she is on the brink of tears, the skin on the bottom of her belly stretched taut around the bulge that has formed there.

He is no longer fully inside her.

He is barely halfway inside her.

But she is full. Gods, is she full.

She hiccups, squirms beneath his hands, the his now clawed fingers digging into her wrists till it hurts.

"You want your little death?" He leans down, breathes deep as he presses his nose against hers, mouth hovering above her parted lips and whispers, low and venemous, "I will give it to you."

.......................

The violent, rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin is the only thing tethering Tav to reality. That, and the all-consuming, mind-numbing pain and torment that wracks her body at every point of Raphael's movement.

He pounds her into the floor—had her on all fours until her arms gave out—one large hand crushed agains the back of her head where it forces her face into the floor, the other possessively cradling her abdomen where it presses against the bulge that disappears and reappears with each of his sharp thrusts.

It is unending. The pain. The brutality with which he takes her.

She has long stopped fighting to flee.

When she tried to escape after the first dozen orgasms, rolled out of the bed, sore and bruised and desperate to not succumb to yet another forced orgasm, scurrying across the floor on hands and knees, Raphael merely looked on in dull amusement—leisurely commented that, If you wish to be taken on the floor on all fours like a filthy animal, you need only ask, little mouse.

Now she lies still, limp and defeated in his grip, nothing but pathetic little twitches of her hips, vain attempts at evading the mage hand whose sole purpose is to make sure her clit is forever stimulated that force her over the edge again and again and again. Even as Raphael violates her thoroughly and fully, his cock spearing through her, carving out her insides to a point where she feels her organs may have turned to mush.

Again and again and again his cock bumps against her cervix, and the stab of pain that comes with it every time tells her that she is as battered and bruised on the inside as she is on the outside. Every push and pull of his hips has puddles of his hot come spilling out of her. Raphael seems unbothered by the mess, merely continues to fuck his remaining spent into her, along with more every now and again when he too reaches a peak.

Her vision is hazy. Her lungs burn, spots of black flickering in and out of her vision. She can barely breathe.

The pressure on the back of her head eases, but only for a moment, and Tav gasps for precious air as Raphael wraps his fist in her hair and drags her head up—forces her into an even deeper arch, forces her ass to press impossibly closer to his scorching skin, his cock impossibly deeper inside her.

She cries and cries and cries, her tears the only cooling reprieve in the blistering heat that consumes her entire being.

Again, she is forced over the edge, her orgasm burning through her so violently she nearly passes out, thighs trembling from exertion, her poor, abused cunt twitching around him. The drool that has dried on her chin gets replaced with new spit as the gurgles and chokes on her tongue, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

She gets no respite. No mercy.

If anything, the mage hand rubs harder at her clit, pinches and twists to make it hurt that much more as Raphael yanks her even further backwards to a point where her back is nearly against his chest.

Shamefully, she knows she would not have it any other way.

[clxvdy]

Normal Friday ~

Mauga X G/N Reader <3

Big, loud, obnoxious - all of these were things that applied to this weird but relatively charismatic guy.. in a way at least. Kind of a psycho to be exact. But there was just something that pulled you towards him.

Today was Friday. You went to work, as usual, not expecting a peaceful and stressfree day, but to your surprise it was exactly what you weren’t expecting - a peaceful and stressfree day. Strange. You got ready to do your daily ritual - stand behind the counter and make coffee. However, it was in fact something you enjoyed doing.

Customers walked in and out. The well decorated cafe just had the smell of freshly baked cookies and coffee in the air. The chairs and tables had a pretty beige colour, not to forget the beautiful windows you could look out of while enjoying a nice cup of coffee. Preferably hot, of course. They were decorated with nice ivy plants. A truly aesthetically appealing place. Who wouldn’t want a nice flower to look at while working or studying?

The cafe was quiet. You could almost hear your own heartbeat while looking around the place in order to find something to stare at for the next couple of minutes. As you doze off, you’re woken up by a loud and obnoxious voice. A big, big man walks into the cafe. His hair is long and chunky and in the colour black, a white strand to add extra flavouring. His teeth were sharp, as if they’re just made to tear things open. His eyes as red as blood. What the hell is this guy?

“Hey beautiful, is there a chance you could make me a cappuccino?” He said with a deep and husky voice.

He smirked at you and leaned towards the counter. You backed off, no words coming out of your mouth. He was kind of terrifying but you did what he asked for, since you were afraid he is going to chomp you with those fangs. You slowly handed him the cup and smiled with a drop of sweat rolling down your forehead. He surprisingly grabbed it gently and said:

“Thank you very much, beautiful.”

Stop calling me beautiful! Who do you think you are?! You blushed slightly at his words. Your mind was filling up with his words.

You saw him turn around in the empty cafe. He was too big … to fit in the seats. You walked infront of the counter and lead him to the garden. People loved picknicking out there. He followed you, however you felt comfortable. He sat down on the grass and started drinking his coffee.

You went back to the counter but it was so boring. Nothing to do.. no one to talk to.. nothing to make… ultimately you grabbed a piece of strawberry cake and decided to bring it out to the huge guy. He was still sitting and drinking his coffee.

“The cafe is very empty today despite it being Friday.” You said expecting an answer from him. You sat down and looked at him. He hummed and smiled back at you. Why the hell is this guy so friendly? It doesn’t add up with his looks.

“Are you going to eat that cake?” He asked and pointed at my hands.

“No… would you like to eat it? I mean.. I uh brought it out for you .. what’s your name..” you stutter. As he notices you fumbled over your words, he grabs the plate - gently - and starts chomping on it.

You were left in shock. He just… took it!! But.. agh!

“Hey! I never said you could have it!”

“What you did say is that you brought it out for me, love.”

You looked at him with an angry expression. He smirked and continued eating his cake.

“I’m sorry love.” He said and gave you the cake back. You took the plate and started eating the parts that he took a bite from. You totally forgot your hunger in the morning. He smiled at you and pat your head.

“I like you. Mauga. What’s your name?”

You looked up at Mauga… so that’s his name! Your cheeks became slightly red. You knew exactly that you’re going to close the cafe and sit there for hours talking to Mauga.

what the flip guys my first thingy on tumblr?!??

Mauga is just bbg… I believe he can be gentle 😭🫶

[sugar-plum-writer]

A Heian Era Affair

Parings: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; Chaos; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader A/n: Sorry for not putting out any updates or fics for almost a month! T~T I was busy with college and sem exams! but they are finally over so yay!!!!

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

@elernity @derpykirb here is the update! ^-^

CHAPTER - 3

The sunlight basked in the small wooden house, the morning dew shimmered as the birds chirped in a lovely tune, a better alarm clock than what Gojo was used to

"Don't wash clothes like that! if you use too much strength it will rip apart!"

"I am trying god damn it!"

Wiping the sweat from his forehead he scrubbed the clothes, you guided him as you sat beside him, your hair tied up in a bun sweating yourself.

"How did humans survive this!?" he groaned

As he and you continued washing the clothes you heard a scream from him

"Ah shit!-", he bit his lip

"Oh lord what happened!?", hurriedly you took his hand and your eyes widened as blood dripped from his wrist

"This is bad wait let me get medicine!"

"Wait-"

Before he could say anything you had already left

"I can use RCT…" he whispered words barely audible as he watched you running

After some seconds he saw you holding a wooden box

"You truly are useless and cannot even wash clothes properly! How can you even call yourself the strongest!?" you nagged him as you cleaned up his wounds and bandaged him up

"Oh sorry I am not used to washing clothes using ancient methods near rivers am I?!", he argued back as the yelling continued

Unknown to you the moment you bandaged him up he had used RCT to heal it within seconds

"Phew that should do it…let's just hope you don't get an infection if you do even I cannot save your life"

Hearing your words he has never been happier to be able to use RCT

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Y/n!" a lady rushed screaming your name, causing both you and Gojo to finally stop nagging each other

"Who is she?" he whispered

"Just my neighbor, an aunty my mother knew"

"I see... I guess aunts are the same every era..."

"Oh my god, you did not tell me you got married!?" she yelped as she saw Gojo beside you

"I am not married okay!?" freaking out you tried your best to refuse her words

"What do you mean not married!? oh~ he is your boyfriend~" She nudged you and smirked as she walked towards Gojo who was screaming internally looking at you desperately for help

"He is n-!"

"Greetings! My name is Sumi Tachibana, I am Y/n's neighbor!"

Cutting you off she looked at Gojo smiling brightly

"My name is Gojo Satoru it's nice to meet you too", he smiled putting his hand out to shake her hands

"Oh~ how bold to flirt with me in front of your future wife! I am married so sorry~" she chuckled bashfully

"Huh…?", he looked at her then at you confused

"Aunty! What brought you here?" you stood between her and Gojo shielding him

"Oh right! I came to tell you the village has decided to host a festival next week so be sure to come!" she smiled warmly and left after chatting a little longer

"Flirting…what crazy conclusion is that!?" Gojo looked at you dumbstruck

"See I don't know what you knew previously but to put your hand forward to a lady after just meeting her gives the wrong signals alright" You looked at him and sighed

"Ancient times sure are crazy…"

"Oh god…" groaning you lowered your head

"What's the matter?" he looked at you

"She is now gonna tell everyone in the village that we are in a relationship"

He looked at you even more stunned than before, things were progressing too fast his brain felt fried. He realized just how big of a deal it was for him and you to be together in ancient times

"I guess…we gotta pretend to be in one"

"Do you know the significance of what you are saying!?" you looked at him shocked

"What? it's just a relationship~ I have been in many! my experience is over the charts dear" he smirked playfully as he looked at you

Link to Masterlist!

[wwereaderinserts]

Hi, love your writing! Been a long time reader of it since 2018. Your work is amazing! Really liked the Tama one you've recently written & was wondering if you're okay with writing another one of him x reader from enemies to lovers? They hate each other, but actually have feelings for each other deep down? The reader gets flirty with his brother Tonga Loa, which makes Tama jealous & it leads to them confessing & it gets heated at the end? Take your time with it too, thanks!

Thank you so much, it means a lot!! 2018 is a looong time to have been following my work, so I'm so grateful for the continued support! I also know this took a while to get done and I do apologise for that, but I hope it was worth the wait!<3

Title: Jealousy Pairing: Tama Tonga x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,437 Warnings: Swears, slightly spicy/suggestive towards the end

Tama rounds the corner backstage, his eyes narrowing when he’s met with the sight of you and his brother, Tanga Loa, together. You’re leaning into him, your voice low and sultry, and the flirtatious curve of your lips while you’re flirting with him is enough to make Tama’s gut twist.

He tells himself that it all boils down to it being a reaction as a result of the hatred he’s harboured for you for as long as he can remember, almost as though he’s trying his best to convince himself that’s exactly what it is. But he’s at war with himself, not wanting to call it what it really is, lest it become a reality once he finally says it out loud.

Jealousy.

When Tama’s looking at you, virtually all over his brother right before his very eyes, the word is no longer forbidden in his mind at that moment, now pushed firmly to the forefront instead. He’s storming over to you both, and when you see him out of the corner of your eye, scowling at the display before him, it only fuels you to kick things up a notch and lay it on thick with him.

“You know, I think you seem like a bit of a quiet type,” you purr, giggling as you trail a hand down Tanga’s forearm, “I could think of a few things I could do that’d make you a little louder…”

Tanga is clearly flustered by this as he lets out a huff of a chuckle, but he doesn’t get the chance to so much as fire a retort back your way. Tama is quick to cut between the two of you and break up the interaction, with him keeping his back to his brother while he faces you front-on, seemingly using himself as a human barrier as he glowers at you.

“C’mon, move along. Leave him alone, he’s not interested.”

Tama practically barks, his stare unfaltering while you look right back at him, perplexed and taken aback above all else. Slowly, you blink twice while you register his abrupt interjection, and you take a step back and fold your arms once you’ve gotten over the initial shock.

“I think he can speak for himself, actually. Didn’t seem like he’s not interested to me, but…” you trail off, chuckling mirthlessly while subtly shaking your head, “Why do you care, anyway? It’s none of your business.”

You challenge Tama, your heart now beginning to pound in your chest while your palms sweat and your hands shake. He raises a brow at you before he looks over his shoulder at Tanga, wordlessly dismissing him with the nod of his head in the opposite direction. Tanga doesn’t protest, instead he nods in agreement and bids his brother farewell as he leaves him to handle you.

“It’s every bit my business when it’s my brother you’re all over like that. Go find someone else instead, there’s a whole ass locker room out there for you to choose from.”

There’s venom in Tama’s words - even the thought of you pursuing someone else in the locker room is enough to make his blood boil over, and the more he tries to deny the fact and hold everything he truly wants to say in, the more he feels like he’s about to explode.

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, unfolding your arms in favour of letting them drop to your side instead. You clench your fists at your side as you scowl at the man in front of you, your nails biting into the skin of your palm as you do your best to conjure up a scathing retort on the spot to fire back at him.

It takes everything in you not to tell him that you only flirted with his brother in hopes of gaining his attention, that you’ve started to feel something for him, that all this bad blood that’s been between you both for as long as you can remember has bloomed into something far more pleasant than disdain, that you think you should both just do something about this unresolved tension between you both already.

“Oh, how fucking charming of you,” you practically spit the words at him, “He’s a grown adult, and so am I. We can both do whatever we want! It’s starting to feel like you have this kind of obsession with me or something, Tama. It’s like you love to hate me, honestly.”

“Jesus, you’re fucking delusional,” he completely brushes you off, stepping closer to you despite himself, your pull magnetic to him, “You’re not even worth my time-”

“Yet here you are.”

You interrupt him, not giving him another second to finish his sentence. Tama’s lost for words, as evident by the way his jaw slackens, his lips remaining parted after being stopped dead in his tracks. With a smug smirk, you give him a shrug, knowing full well you’ve got him cornered.

“What, nothing to say now? You give me so much of your time and energy, yet you claim you hate me. Or you at least act like you hate me, anyway. I don’t get you! Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on-”

Tama groans in pure frustration before you can even finish your sentence, and he throws his hands up in defeat as all of his feelings towards you finally spill over. He’s been at war with himself over them for so long, and he doesn’t think he can keep up the jig for much longer.

“I like you! And I’ve been pretending that it doesn’t matter, like it’s nothing, but it fucking does matter! It’s pissing me off, is that what you wanted to hear?!”

Tama’s chest feels like it’s about to burst, the weight of his confession pressing down on him. He waits for you to laugh, to reject him, even outright tell him to fuck off, but he sees a glimmer of something else in your eyes instead. A flicker of understandable surprise, mixed with one of interest, maybe?

It’s definitely interest on your part. Your mind had been swimming anyway with everything you’d been wanting to tell him, but the confirmation that he feels almost exactly the same way has relief washing over you, like a weight has been lifted.

“Well it’s about damn time, because pretending this is all nothing has been pissing me off, too!”

Tama’s eyes are still locked on yours as you fire back at him, and you close what little distance there currently is between you and crush your lips against his. Tama doesn’t immediately kiss back, needing a moment to register the fact that this is very much real and happening right this second, but when he becomes fully aware, he reciprocates the kiss with equal fervour. He takes control, his hands firmly resting on your waist as he backs you towards the nearest wall to pin you in place, now partially concealed from any potential prying eyes in your little corner.

Your back meets the wall with a soft thud, and you groan softly into the kiss while one of your hands finds its way to his head to card your fingers through Tama’s curls while the other grasps onto him for dear life. His tongue tangles with yours when you open your mouth into the kiss, all while his hands now begin to roam over every inch of your body, mapping every curve as though he’s committing each one to memory.

“Want this as much as I do, huh?”

Tama momentarily breaks the kiss to ask, and before he can even give you a chance to answer him, he’s slotting his thigh between your legs with a smirk. You gasp softly, your breath mingling with his while you silently nod. His intentions are clear, and you hardly need to think twice despite the underlying fear of someone catching you two at any point.

“Yes…yeah, of course I do-”

You whisper in response and grind your clothed core against his thigh, hesitantly at first, but when you get a taste of the sweet friction, you’re more firm with your ministrations. You groan softly before his lips find yours again, and he continues to grope you in all the right places while you slowly begin to rock against his thigh, building up a steady rhythm.

“That’s it, good girl,” he breaks the kiss once more and chuckles lowly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “Just you wait until later, because this? This is only a taster. If you want the real thing, it’s a hundred times better...”

[mystical-flute]

Checkered: Chapter 3

Also on AO3 || Buy me a Ko-Fi

Two weeks was all it took.

Just two weeks after Gozaburo’s funeral, Seto sat in the lobby of Industrial Illusions, briefcase in hand, waiting for the man himself to greet him. His Solid Vision technology had been perfected by him and him alone (despite Noah’s nagging), but this was his company now, and his technology needed to be at the forefront. Noah would have his place, of course, but as the face of KaibaCorp, he needed to show he knew what he was doing.

“Mister Kaiba? Mister Pegasus is ready for you,” Pegasus’ secretary said with a polite smile, gesturing for him to follow her.

Sero did so, unclasping his locket to look at the photo of Mokuba inside. Finally, after all of the blood, sweat and (though he would deny it until the day he died) tears, he was finally at Industrial Illusions about to show off his work. He had finally made a name for himself, and that name was only going to grow with Pegasus’ help. Finally, he and Mokuba would be able to start building KaibaLand. A little more time was needed, perhaps, so he could make sure the company was fully turned around, but it would happen sooner rather than later. It was a real, tangible thing they could actually accomplish instead of just a childish dream created in a sandbox to ease his brother’s sorrows at being in the orphanage.

“Mister Pegasus? Seto Kaiba for you, sir,” the secretary said, knocking twice upon the solid oak door. How strange that despite the sleek, modern exterior and lower floors, that the executive offices would be so warm and opulent.

“Thank you Adrianna, send him in,” came the clear, though slightly muffled voice of Maximillion Pegasus.

Seto stepped inside when Adrianna opened the door. Looking around, he was struck by how… vintage the office was. While it matched the rest of this floor, the heavy dark woods in the office furniture and elaborately framed paintings that decorated the walls.

Pegasus rose to his feet when he saw him. There was a look of amusement on his face, and Seto wondered if he’d missed a joke. “Ah, welcome Kaiba-boy. Please, have a seat.”

“Mister Pegasus, thank you for meeting with me,” Seto replied, reaching to shake Pegasus’ hand before he did as requested and sat down. He had to be more careful with Pegasus than he’d been with the business owners he’d met with just a couple short weeks ago. Pegasus was not fragile, not weak like them, and it was crucial that he stay on Pegasus’ good side, otherwise his plans of truly changing KaibaCorp into a gaming technology business was going to be slower than he wanted.

“I must say I was quite surprised to get your email,” Pegasus began, folding his hands on the fine wood of the desk and regarding him curiously. “I’m not quite sure how Industrial Illusions can help a company like KaibaCorp. Gozaburo and I barely ran in the same circles.”

There was something unsaid in Pegasus’ face, but Seto didn’t dare question it.

“My intentions are to shift KaibaCorp away from the darkness and war that my father chose to build,” he began. “In fact, I have designed a system of holograms that will take your Duel Monsters game to a new level.”

Pegasus raised an eyebrow and leaned forward with interest. “Is that so? And how do you propose these holograms work?”

“Do you have an empty desk or table that we can use? I have a scale model version of what I am planning in my briefcase, but I would not want it to crowd your workspace,” he replied smoothly, gesturing to the briefcase at his side.

“Yes, of course, there’s a table just there,” Pegasus said, gesturing to Seto’s left to a small coffee table. Excellent, that would fit his scale model perfectly.

Seto carefully began to unpack the scale model, first the floor of the arena, then watching as it began to unfold by itself, then carefully placed two of Mokuba’s Dyna Dude action figures at either end as stand ins for what would be human duelists. The Duel Arena, that was the name he and Mokuba had come up with when they’d been testing it and going over simulations on the computer. He could have just brought those, he knew, but he’d done a lot of research on Pegasus, and Seto knew he’d appreciate being able to get his hands on something tangible, to see that it was possible . 

Like him, in a way.

“Color me impressed already, Kaiba-boy. The quality of this scale model is impressive on its own,” Pegasus said, his eyes wide like a child spotting something shiny.

But Seto knew this was a businessman. For Pegasus, this would be something to exploit - and Seto wasn’t going to let him.

“I’m just getting started, Mister Pegasus,” Seto replied, pulling out the miniature Duel Monsters cards Noah had designed. “This is the Duel Arena. Imagine on all sides there is an audience cheering on their favorite duelists. My vision is to implant your Duel Monsters cards with microchips that coordinate to each card. For example, I summon Saggi the Dark Clown in attack mode…” With a pair of tweezers, Seto put the mini card on the mini console, and watched as the Saggi the Dark Clown hologram appeared on the arena floor. “And then the opponent will summon, say, Battle Ox, also in attack mode.” And there was the Battle Ox, formed perfectly and looking rather eager to attack. “Now, Battle Ox, attack Saggi the Dark Clown.”

Seto watched Pegasus as the Saggi the Dark Clown disappeared in a hail of holographic splinters.

“My goodness Kaiba-boy! You have far exceeded my expectations! This holographic technology is incredible, and the cries you’ve chosen for the monsters coordinate well to what they look like!” Pegasus said with a beaming smile and what appeared to be a genuine laugh. “Now, the big question is, where exactly do you see these arenas being built?”

“Any city around the world that wants them. I believe everyone should have a chance to play the game if they so wish.”

“A sentiment I echo, Kaiba-boy. I would be more than happy to partner with you to make both of our dreams a reality,” Pegasus stood and held out his hand for a shake, which Seto did.

He’d done it. He’d secured a deal with the biggest gaming company in the world, and his designs would finally be used for good instead of evil.

If he hadn’t had his emotions beat out of him (almost literally), he would have been elated, perhaps crying. Instead, all he felt was a weight lifted off his chest as he returned to Pegasus’ desk to start legal negotiations. A proper contract would be sent to Johnson later, but there were some things Seto wanted to make sure Pegasus heard from him directly.

“I shall have my lawyers send Mr. Johnson the final draft of the contract Kaiba-boy, but I feel like what we have planned is more than generous for both of our companies,” Pegasus said with a wide smile. “I am so looking forward to seeing what we can do together.”

“As am I, Mister Pegasus.”

Pegasus leaned back in his chair. “You know, the American Duel Monsters Championship is tonight. I would like for you to be one of my VIP guests. You can check out your American competition for the Worlds tournament. It might inspire you to refine your own technique.” Seto wasn’t quite sure how to describe the look on Pegasus’ face, but it was a bit unsettling.

But he nodded. Obviously he wanted to watch the finals. It would be great to not only see the American duelists, but he would also be able to put the Kaiba name out there as a gaming company and really show how serious he was about wiping the slate clean of Gozaburo’s filth.

“I think we should announce our partnership there as well. It’ll be a great way for the public to see how serious you are about turning KaibaCorp around.”

What the - how had Pegasus known what he was thinking?

“You are far from the first person to inherit their parent’s company and want to change things around,” Pegasus said, rapping his knuckles against the dark wood of his desk. “But be careful who you trust, especially if they were attached to your father. Loyalty can be such a fragile thing in the business world.”

He tensed. Was Pegasus insinuating he didn’t have the loyalty of his employees? Even after he’d gifted them with generous bonuses for staying on and agreeing with the turnover? And giving those who left incredible severance packages? “How dare - ”

“Come now Kaiba-boy, don’t get so worked up. Go enjoy yourself for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll have Adrianna send your guards the information about the finals.”

Seto stared at Pegasus for a long moment before nodding and putting the scale model Duel Arena back in his briefcase.

What a strange feeling he felt moving down the back of his neck.

Shaking his head as he clicked the locks closed, Seto left the office, and didn’t notice the golden light flashing beneath the curtain of Pegasus’ white hair.

---

“So the Big Five really didn’t plan a meet up with you guys?” Yugi asked as he set a bowl of popcorn down on the table in front of them. “I mean, you said KaibaCorp was going to games, right? And this is the end of the American tournament…”

Reika could only shrug. “I don’t know what goes on in their heads. Maybe they’re still so stuck on focusing on products that improve KaibaCorp instead of products that will be good for everyone that it didn’t occur to them. Besides, I’d rather be here watching the finals with you and gramps instead.”

That, and Mokuba had let it slip to her that Seto would be showing off the new Duel Arenas tonight and she would much rather see the reactions of her Duel Monsters obsessed family members over the stuffed suits she’d spent hours with already that day.

Yugi shrugged and handed her a soda. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It feels like we haven’t been able to hang out in a while.”

“I know, sorry. I’m supposed to be seriously looking at universities and working on my piano. Mom and Dad think I’ve got a really good chance at getting accepted because of my talent, but… I’m still not sure what I want to do after I graduate,” she sighed a little. “But this weekend, it’s just us and Duel Monsters.” Her parents, thankfully, were out of town and she had elected to crash at the game shop. “Next time we duel I’m going to kick your butt though.”

“We’ll see about that!”

“Yeah we will! Hey gramps, hurry up! It’s starting!” Reika called, sliding her phone into her hand and opening her camera. She had promised Mokuba a video of their reactions to the holograms and duel arena and she didn’t want to miss a second of it.

Grandpa slid into “his” chair just as the camera panned away from the dueling announcers and focused on the stadium floor.

The crowd was buzzing with excitement, spotlights crossed the American duelists that were lined up on the floor, and then - 

The lights went dark, and something roared, causing everyone to jump. A Blue-Eyes White Dragon suddenly erupted from one side of the stadium, standing tall and proud.

“Huh? A Blue-Eyes? But… but how?” Yugi asked, his eyes wide.

Reika grinned. “You’re looking at the future of KaibaCorp.”

Seto and Pegasus appeared through a trapdoor, onto the stadium floor. Pegasus was posturing to the screaming crowds, while Seto looked stoic as always as he scanned for the cameras. Still, there was something in his eyes that told her he was, in fact, feeling something. Joy? Relief? It was hard to say.

“Good afternoon one and all! I am Maximillion Pegasus, and I am absolutely delighted to introduce you to Seto Kaiba, an up and coming Duel Monsters champion from Japan. He is also the president of the Kaiba Corporation. The hologram you saw just now was designed by him. Industrial Illusions will be entering into a partnership with KaibaCorp to bring dueling to the next level.”

The crowd roared with cheers and applause before Seto spoke.

“Going forward, Duel Monsters cards will be microchipped to create holograms like the one you just saw. They will appear for every card type. We also plan to build Duel Arena around the globe - specialized areas where Duelists can gather and challenge each other. This will help make the game more fun and accessible to people of all ages,” Seto explained. “When I took KaibaCorp over from my father, I vowed that I would make it a company for good instead of evil, and I am intent on keeping that promise.”

Once again, the roar of the crowd deafened the Mutou living room, and Reika smiled softly in relief.

Her grandfather was grinning. “What an incredible idea! I can’t wait to get my hands on some of those holographic cards. I wonder if I can get one of those microchips put into my Blue-Eyes card.”

Reika frowned. “Gramps, you don’t even like dueling with that card. You said so yourself.”

“Yes, but I think it would be nice to see the monster Arthur gave me. Maybe I will start dueling with it…”

Reika shrugged. “I can find out for you, if you can get the chard chipped. I’ll text Seto now.”

Seto, as it appeared, had gone to the VIP seating on the stadium floor while Pegasus explained the rules of the game and the brackets of the first round.

She set her phone down on the table after messaging both Seto and Mokuba, then grabbed a handful of popcorn. Relaxing like this felt odd, but it was nice at the same time. She felt like she could actually breathe instead of worrying about reputations or her future in life. Sitting here, watching dueling with family was something she missed. Before Gozaburo’s death, she felt like she had little time to keep up with her schoolwork, let alone being able to just hang out and relax. She hoped this feeling would become more frequent now that he was gone and Seto was in charge.

Her phone pinged a few minutes later, as the duels finally began.

{S. Kaiba} Your grandfather is welcome to bring whatever cards he wants to get chipped to KaibaCorp. Your cousin too, especially if he’s serious about becoming a duelist. We’ll do an early chipping event for employees and their family members.

{Reika Mutou} Cool! Thanks a ton!

{S. Kaiba} Pegasus is also insisting on KaibaCorp hosting a gala to celebrate our new partnership. Still working out the details but will likely be in a few weeks.

{Reika Mutou} Fine. Just let us know when.

Reika rolled her eyes and set the phone back down on the table with a small sigh. “You guys can bring your cards in to be microchipped soon,” she said, looking at grandpa and Yugi. “And I need to go dress hunting again. There’s going to be a gala for the partnership. Pegasus is going to be there.”

“What?! You’re going to be able to meet Pegasus in person? Can you get me his autograph?” Yugi begged. “Please? I’ll even let you win our next duel!”

“I was going to win that anyway but fine, yeah, I’ll see if I can get you an autograph.”

Settling back, Reika relaxed and forced her mind to do the same for the rest of the night.

---

The Kaiba ballroom was flooded with the Japanese elites, eagerly chatting with each other, the air buzzing with anticipation of Pegasus’ arrival. Alcohol flowed for the adults and sparkling cider for the younger crowd. There were musicians on the small raised stage, playing jaunty dance music for anyone inclined to start dancing before the guest of honor appeared.

“This is really exciting isn’t it?” her father whispered with a grin. “Meeting the man who created your favorite game?”

“Dad, I’m already nervous enough!” she laughed, tucking a stray piece of wavy hair behind her ear. “I just hope I can make good on my promise to Yugi and get him that autograph.”

Her father shrugged. “I’ve heard Pegasus is supposed to be a generous man. I’m sure you will. Now, go on, it looks like Noah needs you guys over there.”

Reika glanced over at Noah, who was indeed waving for the Young Five, and moved in his direction, her high heels clicking against the marble floor. “Everything alright?”

“Having a gala without my father feels a bit odd,” he admitted when the five of them reached him. “Good, but odd. It makes me smile thinking how angry he would be to see this. I managed to sell one of my scopes to a medical company. They’re planning to use it to find abnormalities in people’s blood… and I’m going to be working on a smaller version to use on animals.”

“That’s great news! It really shows that you and Seto have turned away from the sort of person Gozaburo was,” Mei said.

“We will be announcing it tonight, but of course the majority of the evening is about Seto’s deal with Pegasus. Those Duel Arenas were a project between all three of us… Seto said we’re all going to get credit for it, but…”

“There’s a part of you that still doesn’t trust him,” Hideo said.

Noah frowned. “How did you guess?”

Katsuo laughed. “We’ve known you since we were babies. You get used to what your faces mean. Especially when your dad was around and we had to pretend we weren’t rolling our eyes at him on a near daily basis.”

Sora nodded in agreement. “We all have that sort of face. Or we did. Hopefully now that Gozaburo is gone, we won’t have to make those faces anymore.”

“Pegasus has just pulled up, Noah,” Seto suddenly said, coming up behind them and glancing from Noah to the Young Five. “Can we trust you to be right behind us?”

“Of course, as we always are,” Reika said with a shrug. “And the Big Five - ”

“Them as well, naturally, but tonight we are focused on the future, and that is the Young Five.”

Right, the future. Reika just hoped Seto and Noah would keep their word to the Big Five. There were a lot of secrets that their now-former competitors would love to get their hands on and they all knew it. Seto and Noah would have to be very careful if this turnover was going to be a lasting thing.

And she could see the same look of hidden concern on the Young Five. They had their own faces that had always been kept from the adults.

The Big Five approached, and the masks of the Young Five were placed firmly over their faces, kind, placid smiles as they gazed at their mentors and moved to the door, behind the Kaiba brothers.

“Mister Pegasus, welcome to Kaiba Manor,” Seto said. “These are my brothers, Noah, and Mokuba.”

Pegasus was grinning even as the Big and Young Fives dipped into bows. “My goodness Kaiba-boy, I wasn’t expecting you to roll out the red carpet for little old me.”

“Why wouldn’t we, Mister Pegasus?” Noah asked. “There is much to celebrate, is there not? And behind us we have the Big Five and the Young Five, our closest confidants and directors leading us into the future.”

Pegasus chuckled under his breath. “It is wonderful to meet you all. And don’t worry, if anyone wants an autograph I will be more than happy to hand them out.”

Reika smiled softly in relief as she shook his hand, glad he’d said something so she didn’t have to ask him awkwardly. “Thank you, Mister Pegasus. My cousin is a huge fan of yours and he’s thrilled that you’re here.”

“Ah yes, so I’ve heard! Yugi, right? An up and coming duelist in his own right?” Pegasus asked as the group dispersed and conversation and music filled the ballroom again.

She blinked in surprise. “I - yes, that’s right. How did you know?” Yugi hadn’t had any public duels yet, just ones against her or schoolyard games when he had a break between lessons.

“I’ve been reading up on the Japanese duel circuit since Kaiba-boy and I made our deal. Yugi hasn’t had any public duels, has he? Yet the name is already out there.”

This was… strange, but Pegasus was a multi-billionaire with access to whatever he wanted, and there was the fact that the Mutou name wasn’t exactly an unknown one in certain circles of the world.

“You might recognize the name Mutou because of our grandfather, sir. He’s a former archeologist who specialized in Egyptology,” she explained.

“Solomon, yes, that’s right. The man who discovered the Nameless Pharaoh’s tomb. I read all about his adventure. Or, what little adventure he’d speak about.”

Reika smiled weakly. “Yes, he’s kept his secrets to himself. I’m sure he just wants to make sure his family doesn’t follow in his footsteps of being reckless.”

Pegasus’ grin seemed to grow wider. “I’m sure reckless isn’t in your vocabulary given you are a member of the Young FIve though, is it Reika-girl? I can’t imagine that would be good for business… or future university prospects.”

A nervous chuckle escaped her. “That’s very true, Mister Pegasus. But I really don’t plan on being reckless, and I doubt Yugi does either.”

“That’s smart of you. Come now, let’s get you that autograph so you can enjoy the rest of the gala, hmm?”

Reika nodded and led him to the private room set aside for the KaibaCorp elites to put their belongings and take a moment to breathe if needed. There, she handed him the wall scroll Yugi had given her to be signed.

“There you are, Miss Mutou,” Pegasus said, his name signed with a flourish and pen given back to her before she really had time to process what was happening. “One autograph. And I must say, I can’t wait to see what your cousin gets up to when he starts his duel career officially.”

“Thank you again, Mister Pegasus. I’ll tell Yugi what you said. I know he’ll be thrilled.”

With a flourish of his hand, Pegasus left the room, and Reika realized only when she was alone that her hands had been shaking.

She let out a heavy breath, then took a slow one to try and calm her racing heart and shaking hands just as Hideo entered the room.

“Reika, come on! Noah’s about to make his speech. Hey - you alright?”

Another deep exhale escaped her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a weird vibe from Pegasus, that’s all.”

“You felt it too then, huh? The rest of us were thinking the same. I think we’re going to have to keep an eye on Pegasus, make sure he’s on the up and up.”

Reika nodded. “We should keep our suspicions close. Just between us.”

“For the good of KaibaCorp.”

She nodded. “For the good of KaibaCorp.”

She followed Hideo out of the room, letting the door click shut behind her.

[fandom-fandom-fandom-17]

Day 4 spirit, I got really sick so this one is shorter than the others. No beta. So much angst.

When Viggo was a young Dragon hunter his help was called upon by a town in need. They said that they were scared of a dragon that constantly loomed over them. They offered a hefty reward to whoever slayed it. The problem was that the dragon gigantic compared to most even by Titan wing dragon standards. Young and ambitious Viggo took a crew and the challenge.  

The towns people of old had somehow had a deal with a dragon. The deal had lasted generations but as the years went on the people had began to fear the dragon despite no harm ever coming to them. Until one day there was only one woman who still knew of the deal. With the woman's mind going the towns people no longer trusted her, so they enlisted Viggo Grimborn for help. 

 Viggo took the killing blow with the old crone clinging to legs.

"Get off me!" He shouted without a hit of sympathy "I'm saving your village you old fool"

The old woman ran to the dragon as fast as she could. The beast was bleeding out on the ground and Viggo couldn't understand why she was sobbing.

"Viggo Grimborn this dragon has saved my life more you could possible imagine"

"Save you?" Viggo roared " I saved you! I saved this entire island!" 

"Without that dragon we are dead in a month! that dragon was the only thing keeping us safe."

"Oh yeah?"Viggo sneered "From what other dragons?"

"That dragon protected from the wrath of mother nature. Viggo Grimborn I promise you this with my dying breath. The person you will love most shall be like me. A lover of dragons through and through. They shall warp your dreams until you undo everything you have done. Your past misdeeds will haunt you" She shook with anger."

"Are you that old that your dying right now?" Viggo scoffed 

"Mark my words this island is finished" Viggo didn't believe her but the determination in her eyes planted a seed of doubt. 

Viggo checked in on the island to prove her wrong but in less than a month the island had flooded so badly you could barely even tell there was once a town. Viggo had been 20 at the time engaged to a woman he barley knew. The engagement lasted less then 3 months. Viggo had several relationships and each time he scoffed at the old hags words. 

Then he found out about the dragons riders. There was fighting, there was peace, there were losses, there were victories, there was hate, and there was love.   Until a heartbeat no longer stood by his. Only then did Viggo truly revere the old woman's words. 

He felt eyes on him constantly. The crew had began to notice, his brother definitely noticed.

"Really brother? one measly dragon rider that we've been trying to kill for months dies and you suddenly go insane"

"Hello to you too brother and if you have nothing else to say you can leave." Viggos voice was firm but the bags under his eye said differently. "

"Oh I've got something to say. If you cant get it together  by the end of next month I'm taking over everything and I mean everything" Riker straightened his back to look more intimidating which never worked on Viggo and slammed the door. Riker would soon regret his words because by the end of next week he too could see what haunted Viggo. Dragons. Hundreds of dead dragons. Most had open wounds Viggo recognized some that went as far back as his childhood. The crew could see them too now some through themselves over board in an attempt to stop the madness. It never worked. Then he started to show up.

One good night's sleep is all Viggo asks for. One night, he knows he doesn't deserve not after what he did. A kiss is placed on his temple. Before me is my dear Hiccup. Bathed beautifully in the moonlight. I slipped my fingers under his tunic laying him gently onto the bed. Hiccup gave him a gentle kiss. He Viggo a gentle smile but then it turned into somthing malicous. His eyes turned blood shot and he screamed 'MURDER' over and over again till Viggo woke up in a cold sweat.

"Another dream with me in your arms?" the green eyed boy spoke

"Hiccup please.... I didn't -I-"

"-But you  did. You know what you need to do" Hiccup leaned forward to There was a knock on his door and Hiccup vanished"Boss hes here again"

Viggo groaned "I know" Viggo got out of bed heading up deck if to do nothing but put the crews fears to rest. There in the moonlight was Hiccup Haddock. When his ghost first showed he was true to form. Passionate and kind with death glares at the dragons we caught. Which were few and far between with all the ghosts flowing us to warn them. A blessing disguised as a curse, but then he turned cold he never spoke a word to anyone but Viggo which were always cruel. Men began to leave left and right just wanting to get off the ship. There were only about 10 men left with nary a  dragon in sight. 

Viggo did know what to do to make it stop. It was the first thing ghost Hiccup had said which had given the crew hope when Riker had told them. Viggo wished he hadn't. For what he had asked was near impossible.

"Free them. Free every dragon whose path you ever cross until you find one that can free your soul.   Destroy the dragon hunters if you must. That is your penance. Find a dragon that can free your soul even if you have to look forever. I'm so sorry Viggo I wish I could help. "

The only other clue Viggo had gotten was when Hiccup said the freeing of the soul was similar to that of him and toothless. That was the last hint he got before nothing but violence fell from Hiccups lips. That was Viggos last hope. 

As the days continued even his brother abandoned him, so Viggo did as his past lover had. He took to the skies with Toothless and Hiccups ghost flying behind him. Some say you can still hear them an army of Dragons howling in the night. 

I changed ideas like 5 times. From Hiccup still begin alive to the whole old lady thing not even existing. 1072 words

[ramblesbiab]

Do Us Part

This is a little writing piece I did! I'm very proud of it. <3

TW for lots of blood, character death, suicide

“You deserve so much better than a bullet. Of all the things to take you,” Carmine scoffs. Her ears still ring, and from outside the alley comes the sounds of anguish and flames, the stench of spilled blood wafting through the air with thick black smoke in tow. Yet the sight of her love, the deep crimson splotch under her disgusting old jacket, staining that damn white tank top that would normally cause her to grow feral. “Fucking cowards. That’s what they are, cowards waving around those wretched things like they own the world.”

“They do, don’t they?” Nyai asks. “Or have you forgotten why this fight’s taking place?” Her bangs stick to the sweat on her forehead as she groans and rests on her elbows, her skin wincing against the gravel which takes any chance to dig in. The paths of tears stain her confident cheeks. “I must admit, this has seemed inevitable for quite a while. I chose this fight.”

“You chose to be better than any other. You tamed those savages into warriors, you achieved more than any one of those pitiful resistances in our history, the ones we squashed like the bugs they were, you - you stayed. You were always persistent, you fought with a will stronger than titanium.” Carmine runs two fingers over the wound, as though to cover it will make it fade. “It’s cheap. It’s - it’s worthless. 

“Now I. I deserve it,” she continues, grabbing her love’s wrist and planting Nyai’s palm against the bloodied fabric of her dress. Fresh tears sting the corners of her eyes. “My father built the factories that pumped out guns and I took part in signing the orders to expand them. I stood behind bulletproof windows for all those years, overlooking it all, smirking at the slaughter. No better fate suits me then all but my own hand.”

“Where’s your father now? Or his dozen yes-men?” Nyai reaches up to the edge of Carmine’s jaw. “They’re behind that same glass, perhaps two layers now. If I had the funds or time I might bet they’re on a boat, fleeing to some other place instead of facing the mess they made, but Carmine, you’re here. You took a bullet for a cause you despised for decades.”

“The one you built for decades. And we both know I could not give less of a shit about the lives of your people, even if I had centuries to change my mind,” Carmine bites, not to her love but to the flaming expanse she can barely see behind the corner. She shakes her head. “None of them matter to me. No one matters any longer, whether they side with one of us or not.” Her body throbs. Something, somewhere. “You. It’s only you that I care for, Nyai.”

“And that’s why you believe I deserve better?”

“Among many reasons, but yes.” 

Nyai gives half a smirk, blood on her yellowed teeth and the cracks of her dry lips. “Come onto my lap, then.” Her voice raspy and breaking. 

“Even now you try to fluster me? Here of all places?” It pains Carmine to laugh. To find any source of joy in this moment, as she throws a leg over the splayed out, dying body of her lover. “There. You have me.” 

“As I prefer it.” Her hand drifts down to her hip, and she slips a dagger from her belt, the only clean one left. “You, too, are all I truly care for, Carmine,” she whispers. She runs her thumb against the metal. “And you say I deserve better. So I won’t die by a bullet.” Their eyes meet, Nyai’s sparkling from the everflashing lights from every direction. 

“What do you propose?” The throbbing continues, echoing through Carmine’s entire body. How she wishes the pain were silent, that she could sink into this moment, yet she isn’t a fool. She sees the way Nyai’s hand moves and feels the weight of the dagger’s handle tucking between her fingers, the soft grip slotting against her skin. 

“If I deserve better, then give it to me.” How she wants to throw the knife aside. “You’ll take it.” How she wants to stop the directing of her arm, to not see the sharp tip licking at her love’s chest. “You’ll kiss me.” How her beauty shines even now is a mystery, one that plays a symphony on the strings of Carmine’s heart. “And you’ll drive into me, right here.” 

She taps the blade down twice, parting the fabric below it into threads without effort. “Every breath, my love, I breathe for you. So my last belongs nowhere else but between your lips.” She kisses the back of Carmine’s hand, leaving what could almost be a lipstick stain, what could have been if only they lived in a different world. “I’d die by your hand a thousand times to taste your lips once. So truthfully, I’m beating the odds.”

A shiver jolts through Carmine’s body, peppering her with goosebumps and ripping the tears from her eyelids, sending them crashing down her neck. “I’m to kill you, then?” She thinks of each and every moment in her past where she told herself this was the dream above all others. How often she thought about the woman below her without ever knowing the extent of the emotions keeping her up at night, filling her mind with cruel, horrific fantasies.

Here they are now. Here a palm finds her face, and another kiss falls to the raise of her knuckles, and all noises fade but for the heave of her lover’s chest. 

“If I’m to do this, then - then you will promise me.” She nuzzles her face against Nyai’s hand. Burying her teeth in her cheek to stop the tears which keep thickening her throat. “You will promise me that death will not do us part. And it will never do so,” Carmine begs, gripping the dagger so her hand tingles and threatens numbness. “Promise to me now and forever that in every life from here on you will find me. No matter where you may be, you will - you will find me.”

“I will find you,” Nyai repeats. 

“No, promise. Do you promise?” 

“I do,” Nyai whispers. “You are the key to my soul. No other could ever fill the space you’ve created, and there’s not a single other way I’d have it. As long as you are mine I’m yours.”

“I’m yours,” Carmine repeats. She tastes blood in her mouth and loosens herself. She looks past the dagger and only to Nyai. “And while I have no control over the matter, our next life will be simple. We will be farmers in a distant land with acres all to ourselves, with a barn bigger than our home and a comfortable area on the second level where we can make love and look at the stars.”

“Can we have horses as well?”

“All the horses you could ever want. We will ride laps around our fields and rest under a tree until sunset.” She moves her hand down, nearly cringing at the greasy wetness of her lover’s hair. “We would shower together often so I could keep this clean.”

“That’s the reason why?”

“It’s one of them,” Carmine snickers and her body burns her for it. A shivering fuzz lines her vision. “I don’t wish to be away from you for so long.”

“May our love grow in time apart.” Nyai brings the dagger back into position, the heave more noticeable. “I will know you when I see you. No matter how you may look, my love, I will know.”

“And I will know as well.” She brings another hand to the knife. “I will know then and the next life, forevermore.” Carmine leans down, licking the space between Nyai’s lips. She tastes like copper and salt and perfection. “I love you,” Carmine whimpers. “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you,” Nyai repeats. “Forevermore.” 

They kiss recklessly. They’d do so until their skin grew raw and broken if time weren’t so cruel. Carmine lifts her hand, the end of the handle pressed into her dress. A dictionary runs through her mind until she realizes no word could ever fit now. No sentence, no noise. All which is left between them now is actions. So she kisses. And she kisses.

And she dives. 

“My love,” she cries. She can feel the smile on Nyai and can’t move away from it until all beneath her rests still as a stone. She sits up. Withdrawing the knife, now coated with her lover’s blood. Shining and metallic. 

Carmine can feel the adrenaline in her veins as it slowly slips away. With what energy is left, summoned from deep in her core, she screams into the sky, and her vocal cords threaten to shred. She can’t tell what lights are real anymore. 

She raises the knife. Focusing on the red. Nyai’s blood. 

She thinks of everything that brought her here. Every mistake she made, every lie she took at face value. None of it matters now. But she won’t die by a gun she sold, even if she may deserve it. 

She’ll die with her lover’s blood in her heart. 

She brings her arms in and screams again and sobs as her body quivers. Her stomach pulses. As everything fades her body falls, her head against Nyai’s chest. She swears she can hear the ghost of her heartbeat. 

Her vision grows coated in ink. With a dying whisper, the world hears her one last time.

“I love you, Nyai.” 

She dies with a smile. 

[skyetheprophet22]

Various Writing Prompts

#1 ~

I couldn’t believe it when they told me. The study had been successful. The pokes and prods of needles; the saliva-stealing test tubes; the snakes of IVs and blood-sucking syringes. It all had led to the development of some truly incredible powers. One tiny pill and countless exams and exercises later…now look at me - lifting buses without breaking a sweat and swinging thousand pound bears over my head as if it were nothing. One tiny pill and countless exams and exercises later to be told that my pill was a fake.

“Plecebo?” I choke out in indignation.

First off, how could they? Do I look like a plecebo kind of a person? Of course not! I am clearly the kind of brilliant, self-possessed, humble type of person who would be the perfect addition to any kind of super-soldier army. I’ve watched all of the Captain America movies, after all.

#2 ~

She was a creature of the desert. Of white suns and waving heat and parched tongues. Water was a luxury only the cunning could afford. She had sacrificed the tip of her tongue to a dying raptor for a mere sip. Shade was an amenity provided only by the night; at times by glistening monsters which ate the people and spit them out again. These monsters radiated heat, so there wasn’t much relief to be had. 

This was such a different land than the one of her origin. Here the rain was plentiful, rolling over waxy green leaves and spilling into vast lakes. The sun was hidden by vast amounts of interlinked branches and huddled bushes and hanging ferns. And here something extraordinary happened: the leaves would fall off the trees, a brisk wind would nip through the land, and the cold would creep its way into her bones. 

That’s when she first experienced it. The white rain. At first it was a gentle drifting, carried by the whispering wind. It flurried about her muzzle, tickling her whiskers and numbing her nose.

#3 ~

“Come, Johnny, come,” called the robotic voice.

John groaned. Rolled over in his bed and pulled the blanket over his head.

“Coooooooooooooooooooooooome.”

“Shut-up,” John growled, throwing his pillow at the blinking box of gray gears and beeping attennea. 

“No, no, Johnny,” the robot chastised. “That’s a bad word.”

A second later John was shocked by a spray of cold water. He shot up from the nest piled at the foot of the robot’s charging station, a look of murder burning in his eyes.

“I swear to the fucking Lord above if you do that again-”

Suddenly his whole body seized up. John’s hands flew to his neck to grasp at the shock collar currently zapping into his flesh.

“That’s what bad humans get,” the robot said.

#4 ~

They were the very best society had to offer. Golden children with spectacular gifts who, yes, had their tragic backstories and bad days, but in the end always did the right thing. They protected the helpless and saved the bystanders. They had so much in common, but that didn’t mean they all got along at first. Samuel “Stormsurge” Johnson had a nasty case of survivor's guilt, leaving him serious and brooding and continuously butting heads with the cool and narcissistic Gemma Gilmore, the Nightshade. Robert Randall tried to quell the constant bickering, but usually ended up growing angry himself and lashing out. It took years for them to become a cohesive unit; a specialized team of friends who could take down any manner of villain.

They were a ragtag group of nobodies all molded by the very worst of the world. They had lied, cheated, whored, maimed, slaughtered…They were prisoners to their own dark urges and sadistic thoughts.

#5 ~

There’s not much to say about me. I’m just an average teenager, I guess: parents who won’t get off my back, an addiction to mountain dew, and a tendency to lose track of time when I load up the playstation. I know everyone can relate to the parents thing, but I don’t think you really understand how bad it is for me. My old man is like a ghost, hovering over me and prophesying my demise into the incredibly exciting career of accounting. I’m just like him, he says. My mother is a different story. My dad doesn’t harp on me for not doing my homework or threaten to ground me for staying out past curfew. Nope, he leaves all of that lovely helicoptering to my mother. She literally followed me one day while I was out with friends, creeping down the street in her black Sedan like a panther. It’s not like my friends and I are up to anything suspicious. Just the usual demonic possession and arson that every young devil gets out of their system when they're young. It’s totally different when your parents are the physical embodiments of Death, though. Then everything you do could literally throw the whole universe out of whack. 

#6 ~

The viking in me wants to slaughter everyone in sight. I’ve been up since five am. I’ve endured a forced workout session, 6 hours of classes, and a two-hour lab of training baby freshman and sophomores on how to defend a pretend base in a completely ridiculous and unrealistic scenario, and to top it all off, I’m being yelled at because I cracked a smile. The smallest, most fleeting of grins because one of my peers stuffed a jacket up their shirt and was pretending to be pregnant. The viking wants me to eviscerate the condescending little boy with his holier-than-crown crown perched sloppily atop his head. The guy who was held back a year because he didn’t make the cut the first time. 

WHY SHOULD YOU HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS SCUMBAG, the viking roars. SLICE OPEN HIS BELLY AND WATER THE GROUND WITH HIS BLOOD!

It’s oh-so-tempting. To just scream back at this little red-faced punk. How good it would feel in the moment with his fucks and shits thrown carelessly in my face.

But a gentler voice sings out from my right. That’s no way to handle bullies, dear. You must be the bigger person, otherwise you stoop down to his level. 

#7 ~

He had slipped through his fingers once again. The promising trail of death and destruction he’d been following screeched to a sudden halt, leaving him nothing save for another dead little girl and a strange symbol etched into her leaking forehead. His calling card. The gruesome flair he left on all his victims. Further study led him to discover that the symbol wasn’t indicative of a witch coven, as he had initially thought. No magic was to blame for these murders. They had more demonic undertones than anything…He had the behavior patterns of a demon. 

[clouds-rambles]

Hey bestie may I request diluc,childe,zhongli,and venti having a bad nightmare over their s/o wanting to break up with them and when they wake up their s/o isn’t there but really they’re in another room or something if that makes sense!! Thank you 🤑

Hi bestie positively evil... i love it <3 nobody question why zhongli and the reader are married in all my headcanons thanks lmao

Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x reader

Warning(s); panic, nightmares, hurt/comfort, injury mention

Keep reading under the cut!

Diluc

Diluc wakes with a start, his brows furrowed as he takes a moment to arrange the events of his nightmare in his head

Both you and he had a particularly explosive argument after he had come back injured from a night protecting Mondstat 

You had left the winery after exclaiming that you refuse to date someone who has such a lack of regard for his own life. In the long run you’d be saving yourself from further heartbreak if he ended up dead on the front porch

Diluc wonders if dream you could be right...

The red-head finally notices the cold side of the bed you should be sleeping on. He more than remembers going to sleep with you

Panic sets in at the bottom of Dilucs stomach. He must be imagining things right? You’re probably just in the bathroom

A beat passes

Then three

No, you’re not in the bathroom. He would have heard you by now...

What if the dream was actually what had happened last night. A breath catches in the mans throat as he gets out of bed and throws a shirt on

If he couldn’t find you in his home has he truly lost you?

Diluc speedily walks through the halls of his home, checking the spare rooms, the study, the library, the living room, the dining room, the

Diluc opens the door to the kitchen his heart threatening to break out of his chest at the pace it’s beating when he finally spots you drinking a cup of tea, in your pajamas

Thank the archons it was just a dream

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” you ask getting up from the table in the kitchen to your sweating, hyperventilating partner

Diluc says nothing but opts to hugging you, his head bowing to your chest as he breaths you in

“Diluc, you’re worrying me” you tell him returning his embrace and rubbing circles on his back

“You weren’t in bed” is all he offers to tell you. You don’t push him on the details of why he is so panicked

“I couldn’t sleep so I came down for a herbal tea” you explain kissing the man on his bed of fluffy hair “I have a cup left in the kettle, I can pour one out for you” you offer

“Please” he breathes, but doesn’t move to let you go from the embrace, you can stand to hold him and tell him sweet nothings for a little while. Tea can always be reheated

Childe

It would only be right, and he suspected as much. You had told him that because of what has recently transpired in Liyue you cannot find yourself to love a brutal harbinger

Maybe its for the best. Childe concludes not paying much attention to his weeping heart. Maybe, you’d be happier not to be under the constant eye and scrutiny of the Qixing, the Milleth, and the watchful eye of Childes own fatui informants

Without much pause form Childes last thought the man finds himself waking in his room, unsure if the dream was reality or his mind playing tricks on him, he feels your side of the bed and notices a distinct lack of warmth... and you

He cries

Childe curls himself up in a ball determined to not get caught by anyone showing such an extreme and out of character emotion, he let himself cry. He’s pretty sure he’s sobbing loudly but he doesn’t care. It’s just him in the house anyway. The one person that he doesn’t mind seeing such emotions has left him

That’s until he hears the distinct click of the bedroom door open “Oh my archon Childe, are you okay?” you ask quickly making your way to the side of his bed and placing a hand on his shoulder

The man looks up to you, he isn’t sure if you’re real 

“I thought-” he starts “I had a-” he tries to find his words without seeming like a crazed person “You weren’t-” 

“It’s okay babe, I’m right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere” you console “I just had an epiphany in my dream and I had to write it down” you add explaining your absence. Childe nods along 

“Stay” he tells you as you wipe the tears out of his eyes. You nod and hum

“Of course” you lay onto the bed and let Childe wrap himself around you

You hum him to sleep and whisper sweet nothings

Zhongli

‘I can’t love you anymore Zhongli, I feel obligated to come back to Liyue after every adventure, it’s starting to take a toll on me’

‘But our vows, [name] we made a contract at the altar’

‘To love each other, yes? Zhongli there’s no love left in this marriage, you sleep in the spare bedroom whenever I’m back, we sit in silence over dinner, I don’t think I’ve kissed you in months. The lack of love itself is the breach in the contract’

‘But I-’

‘Think about it, do you really feel the same love that you felt on the day we got married?’

‘[name]-’

Zhongli wakes up with a start, his heart beats a little fast for a second. The man convinces himself it’s just a dream he had, but the coldness of your side of the bed seems to speak otherwise

In all fairness, Zhongli should have rationalised his dream before he started wondering the house like a mad man. The only time he sleeps in the other bed is when you’ve suffered an extreme injury, dinners are often spent with jolly laughs and conversation. And Zhongli prides himself on the amount of affection he gives you around the house... and in the bedroom

But most things aren’t making sense in his head right now

“Zhongli my love” you call him upon noticing him in the hall. You had just come out of the bathroom after a midnight toilet break “Are you okay darling?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder

The tenseness in Zhongli’s shoulders dissipate as soon as you initiate the touch

“I love you” he tells you, the declaration is out of nowhere to you. But you smile at him and embrace him

“And I love you too” you pause bringing up your hand baring the ring that sits on it “And this ring is a reminder of our vows and my unyielding love to you” you tell him with a smile

Zhongli chuckles at you and returns your hug “You seem to always know how to comfort me my dear”

“It’s because I’m a mind reader” you jest matching your spouses chuckle

Venti

Disappeared. So much so that the thousand winds could tell Venti that you were in fact not in Mondstat and had travelled to Liyue from the time Venti was playing music in the tavern to when he knocked for you early the next morning

The only trace you left was a letter. Unmistakeably written by your hand

‘Venti, writing this in a letter is much easier than saying this to your face. I am quite simply tired of your antics, no matter try to talk to you, you seem to always brush me off. Be it the nights you spend at the tavern, my general concern when you disappear for days at end just to tell me you were at the thousand winds temple, stormterrors lair, or windrise, no matter how much I tell you I checked all three. Being in a constant state of concern isn’t good for me, it’s emotionally draining and I’m terrified of finding you dead somewhere, despite your archon blood. By the time you read this I’ll be in Liyue where I’ll be staying with a friend for a while. Tell me I’m going somewhere you can’t follow, and I’ll tell you this is how I have felt many a night. I wish I could have kept loving you, [name]’

A harsh way to break up Venti admits to himself rereading the paper a few times before waking up

A dream?

Venti holds his chest, surely a dream couldn’t conjure such a horrific sinking feeling that makes him want to just vomit

Looking to your side of the bed for your comfort the sinking feeling intensifies when he doesn’t see you

So it wasn’t a dream? Venti doesn’t want to call on his kin, the thousand winds, again just to be told once more that you’re currently in Liyue sipping tea with this cousin you had mentioned in the letter 

The archon sits up in bed and takes deep breaths, he doesn’t want to explain to anybody that he had a panic attack over your horrific breakup letter, no no

After calming his breaths Venti steps out of bed with a shaky few steps before walking downstairs to engage in the typical breakout routine. Snacking. Maybe when you left you had elected to ignore some of the snacks you love to litter about your abode

When Venti walks in to the living room towards the kitchen he sees you nursing your head on the couch

“[name]?” he asks in almost disbelief

“Hm,” you answer before looking up to Venti “Oh hey love, sorry I’ve got a headache” you greet properly after a moment. Venti grins at you which causes you to tilt your head. Why is your headache so grin worthy? Weird...

“Would you like some paracetamol?” he asks walking beside you, you shake your head

“I just took some” you reply looking up at your partner “Though I’d love to rest my head on your thighs” you add. Venti more then obliges and settles down on the couch

“You know I had the strangest dream” Venti tells you after a prolonged amount of silence, you hum to let him know you’re listening “You left me” he says bluntly

Oh

Damn

You bring yourself up to Venti’s face with a smile and give him a kiss “I love you Venti, I wouldn’t leave you for even the prettiest lyre” you half console half jest

“That’s because the prettiest lyre is mine” Venti chuckles and you nod pressing another kiss to Venti’s lips

guys it’s 2.42am I’m so sorry if there’s grammatical errors, my brain isn’t catching up rn

[xiao-isms]

Hello I just recently found your Sub Xiao things and oh my god thank you for the food 😍😍 If ur taking requests, Reader with a strap on with a dildo that can vibrate, and Xiao taking it ? 👀 Multiple orgasms would be fun, but anything you write is excellent so I don’t mind where you take this 😳

— dirty.

character. xiao

content warnings. multiple orgasms, semi dirty talk, verbal humiliation, cum eating, a little bit of cross-dressing. note that reader does have a strap-on but i tried to make it as gn as possible !

word count: 1.7k words

voicemail. agshs thank u sm anon! i really liked writing this one so i hope you enjoy <3 ps sorry if the ending is rushed, i recently started uni so ive been superrr busy lately

you slid a hand up xiao’s milky thigh and underneath his blush pink pleated skirt with a mischievous grin on your lips. halting for a moment, you took the opportunity to squeeze that soft, meaty flesh that you loved so dearly, pressing wet kisses and angry red hickies across his skin. once satisfied with your work, you pull away and lift your head to look the mighty yaksha right in his now watery eyes and archons, you doubted even the lord of geo himself would believe you if you told him how pathetic his war-hardened adeptus looked at this very moment, all from a few simple touches. the sight was laughable, really; his hard cock protruded from his pretty little skirt, precum already beginning to stain the garment, accompanied by a face so flushed you swore you could see steam emerging from the top of the other's head. you grabbed the man by his chin and yanked him forward. "you're fucking disgusting." the words came out a bit harsher than intended but xiao, oh xiao, he loved it. he loved it when you made him feel absolutely deplorable; when you broke him until he felt like he couldn't be fixed. he didn't respond, just looked at you with hunger, like he was silently begging you to fuck his brains out.

you could feel a primal need rumbling from deep inside your chest. “does that turn you on?” you asked with a cheeky grin that only seemed to be getting larger by the second. the petite man whimpered in your tight hold, nodding ever so slightly but much too embarrassed to give a direct response. “how naughty of you, xiao. so shy, and yet so, so dirty.” you interlocked your lips with his, sliding your tongue in his small mouth as soon as you got the chance. it was messy and sloppy and it felt like xiao hadn’t kissed anyone a day in his life, saliva running down the sides of his pointed chin while his mouth hung open, completely pliant, but it was so hot. you were the first to pull away which only made the adeptus whine in a desperate, high-pitched voice.

“so needy,” you whispered in the shell of his ear, rubbing his sensitive sides. “you want it? you want my cock in you, pretty boy?” he makes a sound of affirmation, one that you can’t quite make out, but one nonetheless. xiao shouldn’t be acting like this, he knows he shouldn’t—he’s a yaksha, a seasoned demon slayer, and yet, whenever he’s with you like this, he just can’t seem to control himself. he thrusted his little hips into thin air with vigor in what seemed to be an attempt to get some kind of friction, something—anything—to soothe his aching, leaking dick. “ah, ah,” you hummed, gripping his waist so tightly you were both positive there would be bruises there the next morning. “the only way you’re going to cum tonight is with my cock plowing into your tiny hole.”

the way his face contorted slightly and his brows furrowed while fresh, blood-hot tears ran down his flushed cheeks only spurred you on further. you spread his legs as far as possible, yanking both his cute panties and tight skirt off, throwing it behind you without care. you haphazardly coated your fingers in saliva before inserting them inside your boy with newfound fervor, eager to fuck him until he couldn’t think straight and was unable to scream anything other than your name. he moaned and cried and whimpered as you pumped your wet digits in and out of his hole. the adeptus whined, he was so close, so close, but he desperately wanted to be good for you-- and there's hardly anything that he wouldn't do to achieve that, even if it meant holding back his own orgasm. you scissored your middle and index finger, adding a third once you were sure xiao was stretched well enough. soon, you were able to thrust your digits in back and forth freely while the other's body continuously spasmed and shook with close to unbearable pleasure.

too impatient to keep waiting to enter the small man, you pulled your fingers out entirely, the act ripping a loud wail from your lover. "wh...w-why'd you stop?" the words were slurred and almost incomprehensible—it sounded something akin to what someone drunken on sex would say, certainly not a powerful immortal such as himself. the question truly makes you wonder if he'd actually been paying attention to your previous statement or if he really was that incoherent already. how cute, you hadn't even started and here he was, a drooling, stupid mess. you didn't respond, instead opting to press your lips against his, thrusting your tongue deep into his mouth once again. whether or not he understood you before didn't matter, the night would end the same way: with xiao becoming an inchoate husk of a being, only able to give as much pleasure as he received.

quickly, you fastened the harness onto your waist, clicking the straps in place. the plastic toy connected to the o-ring of the strap-on was useful in more ways than one; you knew the both of you’d love it as soon as you saw it. slowly—or, as slowly as you could, patience thrown to the wind long ago—you slid inside of your boy with ease, his breath hitching in the most adorable ways. you smirked and wrapped your fingers around the small device that activated the dildo. “are you ready?” before the man under you had a chance to answer, you clicked the 'on' button, the sex toy whirling to life. for a second, you thought you could see hearts in xiao’s teary, amber eyes. he looked so, so beautiful like this; spreading his legs and moaning for you like a cheap hooker. nimble fingers landed on his waist once again, allowing your hips to slam against the meat of his thighs. his mouth hung agape in shock at the sudden movement, whimpers and whines spilling from those pretty, swollen lips. "a-ah! mmph, p-please go s—oh!—" the words seemed to have fallen dead on his tongue due to a particularly well aimed thrust, hurling him forward. every little movement felt so good, like he was on cloud nine, and oh god, don't even get him started on the way the pseudo cock vibrated in him, making his head go blank with overwhelming lust. he could feel that familiar heat stirring in his abdomen, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"mm, 'm gonna cum, ooh, g-gonna cum, p-please!"

with one more rough, domineering push of your hips, he came over the newly washed bed sheets. you slowly came to a stop and slipped your fingers over the head of his now softening sex, swiping away a hefty amount of your lover's seed and putting it towards his face. "open.” you demanded, inserting your moist digits in his mouth. his red, puffy lips wrapped around them, lazily licking you clean. "good boy," you praised as you pulled your fingers from him. "do you like that? you like eating your own cum like a filthy whore, hm?" he didn’t respond, apparently much too fucked out to even nod. you pulled the man’s cheeks together, leaning down and pressing the tip of your nose to his own.

“i asked you a question.”

his mouth opened slightly at the deep, commanding tone of your voice; he was trying to answer you, he was trying to be good, but his mind was so fuzzy he could hardly breathe. with much struggle, he moves his head up and back down. the action was hardly noticeable with how subtle it was, but you took pity on the poor yaksha, placing a kiss that he felt was almost too gentle considering the current situation. you heard a whimper erupt from xiao and a small, close to inaudible humming sound could be heard within the quiet room.

oh.

you had forgotten about that.

the adeptus trembled underneath your form with overstimulation. he feared he was going to cum again, untouched; he could feel it in the way his dick was beginning to harden again, the way the muscles in his stomach churned and tightened in the most delightful ways, ways that made him feel lightheaded and painfully aroused. you were silent, watching your lover’s face scrunch up with a glint of pure lust clear in your half-lidded eyes. you begin to rock your hips back and forth again, only moving a centimeter an inch this time. xiao couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt inside him, how his slick walls clenched and unclenched around your barely moving cock, making the smallest squelching noises.

it was all so filthy.

with that thought, the warm coil in his lower body burst and he was positive that he was seeing stars from how hard he’d just orgasmed. it was ego-boosting, really, knowing that only you could touch him like this, look at him like this. you hummed, increasing the pace of your thrusts until xiao was crying and incoherent, garbled whines falling from his mouth. “s-sen—o-oh fuck!” tears clouded his vision as you abused his prostate, taking advantage of that sensitive spot inside him. with heavy breaths, you leaned down to look at him directly, the smell of sweat and sex prominent on both of your bodies. “you’re such a good boy, xiao,” you commended between grunts and quiet moans. you brushed his messy hair back so you could see the pleasure on his flushed face, planting kisses on each of his cheeks. he keened at the attention, throwing his arm over his face to hide from the embarrassment.

“you take my cock so well, such a brave boy.” you knew he loved to be showered in praise more than anything, even more than he loved to be pinned down and degraded. he felt as if he’d cum at any second, the way the silicone toy felt inside him was more than exhilarating and your occasionally words only added to that addicing feeling. nimble fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, hard and dripping precum, preparing itself for its third orgasm. you finished him off with just a few strokes, his small form twitching with overstimulation. you slowly came to a stop and cupped his red face with your hands.

“what am i ever going to do with you, baby?”

[allmightluver]

**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana. 

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy. 

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further. 

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury. 

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on? 

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him). 

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.

[darthkruge]

hello lovely!! i’ve been getting back into star wars lately and i’ve been loving your fics!! and i was wondering if i could make a request?? sort of like,, anakin but he doesn’t turn to the dark side type thing?? like he maybe confesses he’s scared to lose you and you help him through it?? maybe obi wan helps out?? honestly you can take it however you want :)) ty ty

anakin skywalker x reader || rewritten

summary || a rots fix it fic where i take many liberties and give anakin a support system + everyone gets better communication and we think about how it would perhaps end differently

warnings || hella canon divergence, angst w/ a happy ending, some violence (non graphic and not super described)

words || 5.1k (i am legit shocked)

a/n || hello and thank you!! i’m so glad you’ve been loving my fics! this fic was honestly super challenging for me and it ended up being the longest thing i’ve ever written. i made some big changes and lots of smaller ones, but each one was fully intentional. i really, really hope y’all like it <3

main masterlist || anakin masterlist 

gif credit

-----

Anakin awoke with a start, chest heaving and covered in sweat. He was gripping the blankets as he tried to ground himself, frantically looking around as if to discern between reality and the horrid dreamscape his mind created. He whipped his head to the side, visibly relaxing as he saw you staring up at him, a confused look on your face. 

You were no stranger to Anakin’s nightmares but this one seemed unlike any he’d ever had. You slept curled into him and, thus, his jolt caused one of your own. Unsure if he wanted your touch just yet, you reached out to him with the Force. Panic, loss, grief, fear, terror, insecurity. You looked into his eyes, watching as they slowly cleared and he registered your presence. He blinked quickly, trying to clear the tears from his vision and gave you a slight nod. 

Reaching a tentative hand to his shoulder, you suppressed a gasp as you felt him shudder beneath you. You quietly whispered his name and placed a finger under his jaw, guiding his face to yours. You nodded back at him and opened your arms in silent invitation. He crawled into your embrace as you pulled him impossibly close to you, situating yourself against the headboard so you could better wrap yourself around his shaking body. Choked sobs erupted from his lips, each one tearing a hole in your heart. As he finally let himself cry with his face buried into your neck, you held him. By the Maker, you held him. 

He didn’t want to speak just yet and you understood. You’ve always extended the same respect back to him as he gives to you. Tucked into you, Anakin’s fingers squeezed into your flesh, as if trying to remind himself you were solid. You placed a few kisses into his soft hair and onto his forehead, hands running up and down his arms and back. You physically pressed reminders of your love into his skin for hours and, somewhere in the midst of your embrace, he let himself fall into a state of limbo. Unawake, unasleep, umoving, yet feeling everything you had to offer. 

----

When morning came, you reached out once again. The emotions from last night were still evident, just not as strong. Simultaneously, you allowed a small smile to come to you as you felt something new. Warmth, comfort, love. You ran your fingers through Anakin’s hair to pull him to consciousness, needing to see his eyes. Stars, his eyes. While they were absolutely gorgeous, they also always gave him away. You once told him that. “Only for you, my love.” He’d replied. 

“Hi.” He croaked out, meeting your gaze. Your eyes fluttered closed for a second as you took a deep breath in relief. His eyes were clear. You didn’t know how long the shadows would be banished for, but as long as they weren’t constant, you had hope. 

“Hi, baby.” You whispered, allowing yourself to give him another forehead kiss, made easy by your position that you’d somehow remained in throughout the night. You looked at him expectantly and knew he knew what you were asking.

“You… you died,” Anakin started. His eyes were already filling with tears. “It wasn’t clear. There was so much blood. And you kept begging me to help you. You screamed and screamed and screamed and you were in agony and…” 

You took his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers in encouragement to go on.

“I never- I never came for you.” He spit the words out as if they were venomous and shook his head. You could hear the self-hatred in his words, the way he couldn’t grasp the concept of hurting you, ever, and yet how seriously he took this. 

“Hey, hey. Stop, my love.” You said, hoping to pull him out of his spiral. “You would never harm me, Anakin. You would come for me, you always have. That was a horrible dream and I’m so sorry you had to experience it. But it was just a dream, Anakin. It’s not real.” 

He pulled away from you as if he couldn’t stand to feel your gentle touch. “No, no, no! It-” His words were cut off by his uneven breathing, his pulse racing as he relived the nightmare. “It felt like the ones I had about my mother. It felt… prophetic. I’m scared, Y/N, I can’t lose you.” 

You walked over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks and rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, hoping to calm him. “You won’t. It takes a lot to kill me, you know? Especially when I have you by my side.” 

Anakin nodded but you could tell he was unconvinced. 

“How about you talk to Obi-Wan about the dreams? He’s always helped you before.” You suggested. 

While normally this would be unthinkable, as it would expose your relationship, Anakin felt himself pulled toward the choice. Inwardly, he admitted that he could definitely use a friend right now. And Obi-Wan had always stood by him. Somehow, he just knew that now would be no different.  

------

Obi-Wan easily swung the door open with the Force before Anakin even had a chance to knock. He knew his former Padawan’s force signature like the back of his hand and had sensed his distress for days. Unbeknownst to Anakin, Obi-Wan had canceled his missions due to this, wanting to stay close for when Anakin eventually came to him for guidance. 

Obi-Wan looked up from his paperwork as he realized Anakin refused to come closer. Huddled behind the door frame, a conflicted and fearful look on his face, Obi-Wan was struck by how similar Anakin looked to the little boy he’d found on Tatooine all those years ago. Many nights, young Anakin would come into Obi-Wan’s room, plagued with nightmares. Just as before, Obi-Wan never turned him away. 

“Something’s troubling you.” 

Anakin sighed, taking a tentative step forward. “You know Master L/N?”

Obi-Wan smiled knowingly, having a sense of where this is going. “Yes, of course. A brilliant strategist, much like yourself.” 

“I…. I’m involved with them, Master.” 

“Involved?” Obi-Wan replied, with a quirked eyebrow.

“Please don’t punish Y/N for this, I know the Council frowns upon relationships. If you need to report it, I understand. But just report me, say they had nothing to do with it. But before you do anything please, Master, listen to what I must tell you. I wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary.” Anakin pleaded. 

“Anakin, I know.” 

“Yeah, I mean it truly is necessary-” 

Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on the younger Jedi’s shoulder. “You misunderstand. I mean, I know.” 

Anakin’s eyes widened with realization before confusion filtered into his gaze. “But we were so careful!” 

“Not as much as you would think,” Obi-Wan said with a slight laugh.

“And you’re not upset?”

He sighed. “Being honest, I was a bit at first. Anakin, you know the rules and you can be so reckless at times! But how could I fault you for your own humanity? And I knew who you were when I met you. I was always aware of your compassion, your capacity for emotions.” Anakin nodded and smiled, but the faraway look in his eye never wavered. 

Clearing his voice, Obi-Wan continued. “Are you alright, Anakin?” 

“No.” The strength of the word shocked them both and caused Anakin to take a moment to compose himself. “They’re dying.”

Panic flashed through Obi-Wan’s expression. “They’re what? What happened? Was it a mission? Do the medics know? Is-” 

“- No, nothing… nothing yet. But it will.” While Obi-Wan didn’t exactly understand, he could tell through Anakin’s tone that his former Padawan believed this with his entire soul. 

“I’ve been having more nightmares.” Anakin said. 

“Like the ones with your mother?” 

Anakin nodded, his gaze muddled as his mind wove through every possibility on how to save you. Coming up with none, he looked up quickly, the lost confusion clear. 

“It’s going to be alright, Anakin. We’re going to do this together.” Obi-Wan offered, trying to comfort his friend. When Anakin nodded this time, his expression had more hope in it. Obi-Wan returned the gesture, tipping his head as Anakin walked out. Before Anakin reached the door, Obi-Wan called his name. 

“Talk to me if you feel troubled. About anything, my friend. And just know… it’s okay to feel afraid. And you’re no less a Jedi because you love them. At least, not in my eyes.” For the first time since he’d walked in the room, Anakin gave a true smile. His former Master inhaled deeply, realizing after hearing those words, Anakin looked more like himself than he had in a long while. 

----- 

A few hours and a Council meeting later, Anakin walked back into your chambers, closing the door with a huff. He wasn’t enraged, per se, but definitely conflicted. You approached him cautiously, heart falling when you saw those familiar clouds back in his eyes. 

“Did Obi-Wan not take it well?”

Anakin shook his head. “It’s not… he was supportive. But the Council has assigned something to me and…” He trailed off and looked at you. Only then did you see his bloodshot, puffy eyes. 

“What did they ask of you, Anakin?” You questioned, coming behind him to gently massage his tense shoulders. 

“I’m needed to spy on the Chancellor. Apparently there’s a Sith Lord somewhere in the Order. They suspect him.” He tried to keep his voice strong, but you could see how torn apart he was by the inflection in his tone. 

You took a breath and tried to process the information. “Will you do it?”

“I don’t know… if the Council tells me I must, then I must. But the Chancellor has only been good to me. I worry about betraying him but I don’t want to let down the Order. I’m not sure how to do this without causing someone harm.” He confessed. 

“They shouldn’t have put you in this position, it’s unfair. And you don’t have to, Ani. I know it feels like you do but you don’t need to bend to each of the Council’s requests. Whatever the fallout, whatever you choose, please know that I’m with you. And so is Obi-Wan. Not that it fixes anything, but at the very least, you’ll always have us.” 

Anakin turned around so he was facing you. “I don’t know what to do.” He whispered, voice laced with hopelessness. 

“Trust yourself. You have a good heart, intelligence, and strong morals. They’ve never failed you before.”

He nodded before leaning into you and your arms instinctively wrapped around him. Your fingertips found their way to his hair, gently weaving through the golden strands. 

“We’ll get through this, yeah?” While it was a question, you both knew you meant it as a statement.

“We’ll get through this.” Anakin echoed. He mumbled the words into your neck where he had buried his face. As if the words could seep into your skin. As if the hope could find its way to your heart and stay there, ever protected, ever true. 

-----

The next day, Anakin found himself in Palpatine’s office. He was wary, guarded. It was evident by the look on his eyes, the way he took a moment before taking another step. It was his training as both a Jedi and a General that allowed him to do this. The careful complexity of planning every move. 

“I heard the Council debating whether or not they should have made you a Master. It seems they do not trust you or value your talent as they should.” Palpatine’s words made Anakin freeze. Rationally, he knew this was wrong. At the very least, Obi-Wan trusts him and so do you. But there was a part of him that felt so validated by the Chancellor’s words that he wanted to hear more. To bask in them, in feeling wanted and appreciated. He hated himself for it. 

“I… I’m not sure what you mean by this.” Anakin attempted not to give himself away any more than he already has. 

“Well, they care about your potential. But they hold you back. They’ll never show you your true power, for they don’t want you to understand. They just wish to use it, no matter your own fate.” 

“I feel cast aside. Like I don’t matter.” Anakin wasn’t even sure why he shared these words. Somehow, in feeling so praised, the doubts just bubbled their way to the surface. He felt like a child in these moments, so painfully fragile. 

“You don’t. Not to them, Anakin. But with me I can teach you your power. I can teach you the ways of the Dark Side. I know of your fears, of those nightmares that plague you. I know about your secret marriage and how close you are to losing it all.” 

Anakin froze, his heart hammering in his chest. His thoughts raced as he tried to piece together the truth from all the lies. The mentions of Darth Plagueis. The Dark Side of the Force. 

“You’re the Sith Lord!” Anakin said, igniting his lightsaber and pointing it at the older man’s chest. 

Palpatine bowed his head slightly, a small smile gracing his lips. “Well done, my boy.” Anakin felt sick as he noted the pride in his tone. And yet that aching part inside him still swelled, ever so slightly.

“Now, don’t do anything rash.” The Chancellor reasoned. “Only the Dark Side can save the one you love.” 

Anakin wanted to do the right thing. He wished to be the one who could stand up and arrest Palpatine without a single ounce of guilt or regret. But as soon as Palpatine mentioned you, it’s like all his logic disappeared. He just wanted to save you, to not fail you as he’d failed his mother. But then he thought back to your words. “Strong morals.” And to his Master’s. “We’ll do this together.”

“I’m turning you into the Council.” 

“Wouldn’t you prefer to kill me?”

“Yes.” Anakin’s remark was forceful and clipped with anger.

“Then do it. Give yourself over to your wrath.”

He felt himself burning with betrayal, with resentment toward both sides. Even so, he could still tell right from wrong, selfless from selfish. And whatever Palpatine was doing… it certainly did not have the will of the people in mind. Without so much as deigning him with another response, Anakin turned and walked out of the room.

“If you turn me in, you’ll never save them!” Anakin tried to will Palpatine’s voice out of his head as he ventured back to the Council chambers. When he arrived back, he decided to slightly alter his plans. While he knew he must face all of them eventually, he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan first. Perhaps his Master could give him guidance, like he did about your nightmares. 

“General Skywalker… are you alright?” Anakin stumbled as he walked right into another figure, too caught up in his own head.

“I’m fine, Master Windu. Thank you- I’m sorry.” Mace looked at the younger Jedi with an unreadable expression. While there was much in his eyes, concern was definitely a part of it. 

“Have you seen Master Kenobi?” Anakin said after a brief pause for composure. 

“He’s supposed to leave for his next mission any moment now. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him.” 

Anakin thanked Master Windu before taking off in a run. No matter how fast his legs carried him, he felt his mind was working even faster, the internal conflict brewing more intently by the second. 

-----

Obi-Wan opened the door as soon as before Anakin could even knock. He looked at Anakin and gestured at a vacant chair, a silent invitation to sit. Anakin shook his head quickly. The younger Jedi’s eyes were scattered and conflicted, as if he’d been shaken to his very core. 

“Palpatine is the Sith Lord.” The words came out rushed, yet clear. As if Anakin needed to get them out as quickly as he could but replayed them in his head until they were all he knew. The intensity showed Obi-Wan that there was no doubt in his friend’s mind. 

Obi-Wan blinked. “Okay.” He stroked his beard, trying to find the words to say. “Are you alright?”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan in confusion. Certainly there were more important questions his former Master would want to ask than that. 

“I know you and the Chancellor were close. This can’t be easy for you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright.” 

“I’m not sure.” Anakin said after some hesitation. “I don’t really know what to think… Palpatine is evil, right? But he believed in me when no one else did. He saw my potential, allowed me to confide in him. He told me he could show me how to save Y/N. Would someone evil do that?” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes softened as he looked at the painfully conflicted young man in front of him. “Anakin… he was manipulating you. He was isolating you so you had no one to turn to but him. It was a tactic, a ploy. He doesn’t care for you.” Anakin looked so heartbroken that Obi-Wan knew Anakin believed him. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But what about Y/N?” Anakin asked desperately.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Loving someone in the Order isn’t easy. Especially after everything you’ve gone through. And losing someone… it changes the way you love. You fear constantly, wondering when your love will evade you. When it will fall apart, like all the rest. But living like that, loving like that… it leaves no room for growth or peace. And that’s what relationships are for, aren’t they?” His voice was filled with compassion and wisdom. From experience, perhaps? Regardless of the reason, Anakin was reminded that someone did understand him. Despite the circumstances, he felt content. At least a bit. 

“Is there any way to save them?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s focus on Palpatine for now, alright? And we’ll bring Master L/N with us so you know they’re safe.” Obi-Wan wished nothing more than having a set solution to save Y/N. But some things were even out of his grasp. “I know this must be impossible for you, Anakin. I truly am sorry.” 

Anakin nodded. After all, it was true. If there was anything to describe the impending threat of losing another person he loved, impossible summed up the process. “I know. You’re doing all you can. Thank you, Master. And yes, I would like to bring them with us.” 

Obi-Wan clasped a hand to Anakin’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they met each other with a smile. “I’ll send them a message right now.”

----

You gasped when you received Obi-Wan’s message with the details of the Supreme Chancellor’s truth. Your heart cried for Anakin, knowing the betrayal must be breaking him. All you could do was wish that with Obi-Wan’s help, the two of you could support Anakin until he felt like he could breathe again. And you had faith in him. You always had faith in him. 

Grabbing your cloak, you jogged to Obi-Wan’s quarters. As soon as you opened the door, you ran to Anakin and hugged him to you, needing to feel his presence. Somehow, you knew he needed it, too. 

“Ready?” Anakin and Obi-Wan gave you nods of confirmation and you gave a tentative smile. “Alright. Let’s do this.” 

-----

Anakin entered Palpatine’s chambers first. For once, he felt sure of himself. He finally knew what he had to do. His gaze shifted to you, making sure you were alright. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb up and down to reassure him. He inhaled. Exhaled. And ignited his saber. 

“I knew you’d come back, Skywalker. I knew you’d join me.” 

“Think again.” Obi-Wan responded as you and him walked into the chambers. Pure, unfiltered rage flickered through Palpatine’s eyes in response.

“Anakin, they’re trying to corrupt you. They’re trying to keep your power. Come with me, boy, and I’ll teach you all you wish to know. I’ll teach you how to save them.” He said, pointing a pale finger toward your face. 

You let out a sharp breath as you suddenly understood Anakin’s conflict. Of course Palpatine was using you as a bargaining chip. Using Anakin’s fear of abandonment, of losing his loved ones against him. It was disgusting, even for a Sith. 

“I… you can’t possibly know how to do that. It’s impossible!” 

“Not on the Dark Side. Look… Obi-Wan has turned them against you. He’s the cause of this! I’m sure he didn’t even pose a solution to saving Y/N. It’s because he doesn’t care about you, not like I do.” 

The shadows returned to Anakin’s eyes as his gaze switched between Obi-Wan and Palpatine. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at you, to see the pain in your eyes as he struggled with a choice that for others would be so simple. He hated himself for being weak but he truly couldn’t fathom losing you. 

Obi-Wan stepped forward, backing Palpatine against the wall and pointing his lightsaber at Palpatine’s throat. Anakin stepped back, too frozen to move, and unconsciously placed himself between them and you.

“It’s over, Chancellor. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” Obi-Wan said.

Palpatine shot lightning from his hands, causing Obi-Wan to deflect the matter with his lightsaber, redirecting it to Palpatine himself. As Palpatine shook from the force of his own blast, he once again called to Anakin.

“If you let him kill me, dear boy, Y/N will die. If you don’t try to save them, you will be the cause of their death.” 

Anakin’s eyes widened, those words hitting him right in the chest. He moved forward, pointing his lightsaber at Obi-Wan but refusing to make the final cut to end his life. Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to speak but the effort of holding of Palpatine’s lightning rendered him useless. It was Obi-Wan, after all. His former Master, his friend. The one person who he trusted with the secret of his marriage. He couldn’t kill him, right? He faltered, stepping slightly back. 

“Ani,” You said, your voice calm as you tried to reason with him. “Ani if you do this, you can’t come back from it. I know you don’t want to lose me and if you kill Obi-Wan, you will, regardless of the fate of my life. You aren’t too far gone, yet. You haven’t done anything irredeemable. Remember who you are, my love.” 

Anakin heard your words and looked at your face. You. He wanted to do good by you, to do good by all of them. He wanted to make his mother proud, make himself feel like leaving her for the Jedi Order meant something. And then his gaze filtered over to his friend. Obi-Wan stood tall against the force of Palpatine’s lightning, reminding Anakin of his friend’s strength. It was something Anakin wanted to emulate, too. 

Understanding his choice, Anakin took a step forward to position the blade toward Palpatine’s chest. His hand was shaking, movements unsure, eyes glossed over with immeasurable pain. But before he could make contact, you swiftly moved in front of him and killed Palpatine instead. Obi-Wan was thrust backward as the lightning ceased, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Why would you do that?” Anakin asked as he looked at you. 

“I didn’t want you to have to kill your friend. No matter what he turned out to be.” You said as you shifted on the balls of your feet. The weight of Palpatine’s death now weighed on your soul, as do those of every life you’ve ever ended. You could bear it and you knew Anakin was strong enough to do so, as well. You just didn’t want him to have to. 

Anakin nodded and whispered a thank you back to you. You just smiled, the love for him clear in your expression. Anakin turned around, walking to his friend and extending a hand for him. 

“I never doubted you.” Obi-Wan said simply as he met Anakin’s guilty eyes. 

“I should have made the choice to believe you earlier. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I’m sorry, Master.” 

“Look at me, Anakin. We all struggle with our morals. We struggle and we’re unsure and we pray and hope to land on the right decision. And you did. You have nothing to apologize for.” Looking at your and Anakin’s arms around each other, Obi-Wan made one last decision. “How about the two of you retire for the evening? I’ll debrief with the Council, you’ve been through enough.” 

Once again, Anakin was struck by the older Jedi’s strength and selflessness. He nodded, as did you, before he accompanied you back to your quarters. 

----

You kept one arm around Anakin’s waist the entire way home, mirroring his that was around your shoulders. You couldn’t bear to separate, not after the events of the past few days. Seeing Anakin so torn up inside, it was eating away at you. Knowing you couldn’t save him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to deal with. 

Now, Palpatine was finally gone. There was no more threat to the Jedi Order, the Force once again balanced. But both of you still understood the one solution that hadn't been found: how to save you. It made everything easier, that you chose to kill the Chancellor. Anakin refused to voice the doubts in his head, wondering if he actually would have gone through with it knowing he would lose his chance at saving you. 

The air was melancholic surrounding you both. Heavy. Neither of you knew what to say, words failing in a moment that was so conflicted it almost overwhelmed you. But your heart warmed as you saw Anakin scamper in front of you to open and hold the door for you. You loved him so much, for doing the little things even in moments like these. It gave you hope.

You were okay with death, so long as it only affected you. When you joined the Jedi, you had to make your peace with it. But after you fell in love everything changed. You didn’t want Anakin to go through the pain of losing you. He’d been so open with you about, well, everything. Especially his past. He’d gone through so much, felt such raw pain and loss, you didn’t want to add to that. 

Taking his hands in yours, you looked into his blue eyes. 

“I don’t want you to die.” He whispered, the desperate, deflated tone making your heart break. “I won’t.” You wished to say, but you knew you couldn’t. 

“I don’t want to die, either.” You chose these words instead, relying on their honesty. 

“Palpatine could have saved you.” Anakin said after a beat. 

You sighed. “You don’t know that.” You stated, knowing it wouldn’t change how he felt. 

“Neither do you!” 

“But at what cost? At the cost of losing your soul? Anakin, you would have had to join the Sith! That’s no longer you! You’re good and you couldn’t have saved me if you were there, don’t you see that?” You pleaded. You wished he would see your logic, the truth behind your words. How even though he thought otherwise, he made the right decision. 

“What good is saving the Order if you won’t be a part of it?”

“What good is saving my life if I wouldn’t have you to live it with?” You countered. 

Anakin let out an exhausted breath before pulling you into him, hugging you. The fighting was too much and, frankly, he didn’t want to argue. Not with you, not ever. You both let out a humorless chuckle as you leaned into each other. 

“I love you.” His tone conveyed it all. 

“I love you.” You replied, your voice muffled from being pressed into his robes. 

“Can we sleep? I don’t want to face this right now. Can we just put this aside, if just for a moment? Can I lay with you and can you hold me and can we just have each other?” You questioned breathlessly.

“I would like nothing more, my love.” He smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to your head as he added the words of endearment, wanting you to understand he wasn’t upset with you. You already knew that, though. You were in love with Anakin Skywalker. Of course you’d argue from time to time. But at the end of the day, you were two hopelessly in love Jedi just trying to save each other. 

Crawling into bed, sleep came for the both of you quickly. You were holding him and he was holding you, tangled together as you nestled his warm embrace. He tucked his face into your neck as you did so and savored the feel of you next to him. Safe. 

Drifting off, Anakin tried to fight the pull of sleep, knowing he’d just suffer from another nightmare like he had every day since the first one. One where you’d die and he could do nothing to stop it. Amidst these tumultuous thoughts, his breathing evened, lulling him under. 

You were in the grass, a flower crown atop your head. Anakin was leaning against a small house. It was quaint but beautiful. Small, not outwardly flashy, but full of love and meaning. Looking around, he smiled as he saw green vines crawling up the sides of the house, a garden of your favorite flowers out front. You always had a soft spot for that. 

We are on Naboo, he realized. It was peaceful. It was the dream you always talked of together. Anakin’s breath caught as he felt the certainty of this dream. It felt just like his nightmares, except this one left him content. He didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long, afraid of jinxing it. But he knew it was prophetic. He wasn’t sure how he changed his fate, what exactly gave him this future. Something inside him just knew that when he wakes up the next morning, all will be okay. He felt infinitely lighter as he understood the threat was gone. 

When you looked up and saw him, you raced toward him and jumped into his arms. Anakin stumbled but caught you, breathing in your scent as you kissed the side of his neck. As he held you, his thoughts slightly wandered. But he was grounded by your presence, reminding him that you were safe and he was okay. With you, he was finally, completely, home.

-----

the link to join my taglist is in my bio and masterlist!

permanent tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poestardust @beskar-tano @starwarsflowers @sunsetkenobi @90steaology @revengeofskywalker

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @savingpluto @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @wintersoldiersthings @mystic-writings @thejediuniverse @anakinravageme @cafeoiogy @dracowars @idkyouu1800c3 @luminara123 @jedi-general @collywobbl @soveryhowvery @asthefirerisesblog @kelieah

[drwcn]

I loved your fem lwj take on things. How would thibgs go if WWX was the lady? Other than ppl assuming she stood up for the Wens bcs she jad feelings for WN ( and that Yuan was hers)

Heyyy friend, I think I’ve seen a couple of girl!wwx fics floating around in ao3 so i certainly won’t be the first :P.

Also I completely misread your ask initially, I thought you were asking me what I think would happen if A-Yuan was WWX’s kid, and I was like oh?? But then I realize wait... I can make it worse.  

Today, I decided that my mortal soul doesn’t matter, so here we go. Let’s see how accursed I can make this idea: 

[1]

It started with Jiang Cheng. Jiang Wanyin had set out for the Burial Mount with the explicit goal of throttling speaking with Wei Wuxian, but what greeted him at the entrance of the “Demon Subduing Palace” — more of a cave than anything really — was not his martial sister, but Wen Ning. Well, what had once been Wen Ning.

Black veins ran across his pale, ashen face, down his equally ashen neck , and into the major veins beneath his clavicles covered by the collars of his black threadbare robes. Lifeless eyes, white as his skin, stared into a void the living could not see. There were talismans littering his body, and Jiang Cheng knew that when he spoke to this fierce corpse, he was not speaking to the young Wen boy, but to his mistress who controlled him with her demonic cultivation. 

Wei Wuxian refused to face him. Refused him explanation. Refused him closure.

“Er-jie!” Jiang Cheng screamed into the stony expressionless face of Wen Qionglin. “If you continue to protect them, then I can’t protect you!!” 

There was no response. 

Suddenly, just as Jiang Cheng was about to kick and fight his way into the cave, Wen Ning thrusted out his right fist, and in his grasp was a piece of purple silk. Jiang Cheng unfolded the silk, vaguely recognizing that it had been cut from someone’s robe, and saw what was wrapped within was a slip of parchment.

割袍断义*, the paper read. Tell the world that I, Wei Wuxian, first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang has forever defected (Note: 割袍断义- to rip one's robe as a sign of repudiating a sworn brotherhood (idiom)).

With this, there was nothing left to say. Hurt and furious, Jiang Wanyin threw the piece of parchment onto the dirt ground, grinded his heel down on it, and left the Burial Mount without ever having drawn Sandu. 

Inside the cave, Wen Qing held Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Why won’t you just tell him? He’s your brother; he can help you, you can —” 

Wei Wuxian’s mile long stare seemed to be gazing at something — someone — very far away. Slowly, she placed her other palm over her belly, which horrifically was already starting to round out. “Nobody can help me now, Qing-jie.”

“I can,” said Wen Qing, blunt as ever. “I can make it go away, if you want.”

“No.” A droplet of tear escaped pass long lashes. “No.” 

[2] 

It continued with Jiang Cheng.

On a snowy night, the first winter after Wei Wuxian escaped with the Wen remnants to the Burial Mount, Jiang Cheng was rudely awakened from his slumber by a less-than-stealthy intruder breaking and entering into his bed chamber.

Zidian whipped through the air, lighting the room with her eerie violet glow, before the intruder could think to take one more step. It was a man, judging from his silhouette colliding against the wall and the pained groan he made in response. The very next second, the tail of Zidian coiled tightly around his neck and dragged him across the floor towards beneath Jiang Cheng’s waiting foot. 

The Sect Master of Yunmeng Jiang summoned Sandu, ready to deliver the final strike, but just as his blade sailed towards the intruder’s chest, a pale arm jutted upwards, blocking Sandu’s descent and revealing a pale hand holding a … a... 

Even in the dark, Jiang Cheng immediately recognized the mahogany comb. 

“Jiang — ! Zongzhu —!” The man croaked out urgently, throat still stomped on by Jiang Cheng’s foot. It was - it was Wen Ning?!

Jiang Cheng looked him over. He was pale, yes, but his eyes appeared human. His hair was brushed and haphazardly done up in a farmer’s top knot. He was wearing farmer’s clothing too, probably more inconspicuous for travel than his Ghost General getup.  

“Jiang-zongzhu! P—please!!”

No, impossible. 

“Wei — Wei-guniang—”

Jiang Cheng lifted his foot and dragged Wen Ning up in a split second. “What’s wrong with Wei Wuxian?!”  Wen Ning coughed and shook his head desperately. “No time to explain. My sister asked me to fetch you. Please, you have to come! Wei-guniang’s life is in danger! If you won’t come, I’ll...I’ll have to go to Gusu, and I don’t know if - if -” 

Jiang Cheng followed Wen Ning. 

For speed, they travelled by sword, but even so, dawn was breaking by the time they arrived. The crowd of Burial Mount’s villagers huddling anxiously outside of the Demon Subduing Palace parted for them upon their arrival. Jiang Cheng took a moment to gather himself and square his shoulders. Whatever it was; he was ready.  

He was wrong. None of the dozens of scenario he had agonized over on the flight here could have prepared him for what awaited him inside. 

Wen Qing, pale and drenched in sweat, was near complete spiritual collapse, and without Wen Qing’s spiritual energy sustaining her, the single tenuous thread by which Wei Wuxian’s life hung on would have undoubtedly snapped under the toil and devastation her body had been put through. 

There was so much blood, so, so much blood everywhere, and amidst the blood, there was a baby. 

Fuck. 

Jiang Cheng transfused his sister half of his total spiritual reserve over the course of a day, while an exhausted but unrelenting Wen Qing worked diligently under blood-soaked sheets. 

Then at dusk, when the storm finally passed, Jiang Cheng sat at the mouth of the cave with a tiny, perfect little human — a girl, a niece! —  in his arms and cursed Lan Wangji’s name. 

Wen Qing was extremely clear with them: 孩子要是留在这里，养不活。

If the newborn was left to be raised at the Burial Mount, she would not live. And so, because parting was inevitable from the start, Wei Wuxian adamantly refused to hold or nurse the child. Her child. 

I can’t. If I do, I won’t be able to let her go. Those dark eyes burned with more than just the delirium of her childbed fever. For once, Jiang Cheng could not find it in himself to argue.

Thus, he took his niece home and named her Jiang Yan 江曕. The name was not his doing. His foolish, misguided, stubborn sister had stroked her daughter’s soft, baby cheek and whispered it to her as a farewell gift. 

Yan - to be bathed in daylight. In the end, when given a choice, Wei Wuxian still opted for her child to walk on broad sunny road. 

It made Jiang Cheng wonder why, then, she would choose the dark twisted path for herself instead. 

[3] 

It ended with Jiang Cheng. 

The truth was simple: Jiang Wanyin killed his shijie Wei Wuxian. He did. He meant to. 

He killed her. But that did not mean he wanted her dead. 

In one day, he had lost both of his sisters, leaving two orphans in their wake. Jiang Cheng could not ignore the cruel irony of their fate: one’s father murdered by his aunt, and other’s mother murdered by her uncle. 

This was the kind of tragedy fairytales were made of, and if there were anything left in him to shed tears over it, he would.  Standing amongst Nevernight’s carnage, he could not dredge up even a single drop of tear.  

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how he could return home to Lotus Pier to face that cherub face, always so happy, so sweet, so utterly untainted by the world. She had her mother’s smile. Yan'er was starting to learn how to speak. Her first words were da-da. 

Da-da. Die-die. Father. 

He was standing beside her father now. 

Lan Wangji. Devastated. Destroyed. …Deceived.

Jiang Cheng hated him so much, so fucking much that for one insane second, he thought about telling Lan Wangji the truth just to see what would happen. Maybe he would run Jiang Cheng through with his Bichen - that would be a relief now, wouldn’t it? - or maybe he would jump after Wei Wuxian. 

Truly, if he knew, he would. Jump, that is. Jiang Cheng was almost entirely sure. Oh the utter melodrama that would inspire indeed!  

But then... 

Wei Ying birthed you a daughter, a lovely, perfect, blessed little girl, and she carried that secret to her grave. I may be damned by my actions, but you, who have done nothing for her and taken everything, why should you deserve something as sacred as the truth?

Jiang Cheng turned away. 

He was acutely aware that one day Jiang Yan may very well be the literal death of him. After all — 杀母之仇不共戴天 — one cannot tolerate living under the same sky as the murderer of one’s mother. 

Be that as it may, he would raise Jiang Yan well, just as he promised. Unlike his sister, he would not break his word. Jiang Yan was of Lotus Pier, of Yunmeng, like her mother and grandfather before her. That for him, was enough. 

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu and gripped Zidian. Whatever his fate, he already made peace with it, and the rest was inconsequential. 

One day, he may die, but today he lives, and so as long as he lives, Jiang Yan and all of Yunmeng Jiang will be protected . So as long as he lives, they will flourish. 

[...and in between]

On the streets of Yiling, Lan Wangji tilted his head inquisitively at Wei Wuxian and the little boy at her side and asked, “This child, he...” 

In response, Wei Wuxian patted her chest in a self-declarative kind of way and announced, “Oh this child, I birthed him!” 

He stared at her in shell-shocked silence, his mind racing with panicked thoughts of but that’s impossible — that was just once — even if — the boy is too old to be —

“怎么，蓝湛，不要我们娘儿俩了？” What, Lan Zhan, you don’t want the child and I?

“Wei— Wei Ying—” 

Then of course, she had laughed, and Lan Wangji thought no more of it. 

Just a joke. A silly joke. 

In time, he would come to realize his mistake. 

~~~

[A/N]: I’m not even a little bit sorry. 

[writeroutoftime]

baby makes three

(gif created by me)

pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader (this is for the 3 anons who wanted to see a similar situation with colin being a father!)

summary: snapshots of colin throughout your pregnancy with your first child 

warnings: pregnancy 

words: 1.7k 

a/n: this is the story that kept disappearing in my drafts, but it has reappeared, which is why I’m posting 2 stories back to back! 😂anyway, this is such a sweet thought, and I adored writing it! hopefully it doesn’t seem too choppy, I just thought it would be interesting to write little snippets of colin and yourself preparing to be parents! (as well as some fluff once the baby is born!) anyway, please let me know what you think, and have a lovely day! 

oOoOo

the announcement 

“You’re what?” 

“Pregnant, Colin.” you repeated, unable to keep the smile off your face. “And you’re going to be the most wonderful father!” 

Immediately, Colin’s face morphed from one of disbelief to pure joy in a matter of seconds before he shot forward and wrapped you up in his arms. His laughter and lightheartedness was infectious, and your heart swelled at his reactions. A gasp of surprise left your lips as he spun your around before setting you back down and placing a chaste kiss against your lips. 

Growing up in the Bridgerton family, Colin always knew that he wanted a large family of his own one day. The day he had met you, he knew you were the one for him, and from that day he had imagined starting a family with you. Now, those dreams were coming to fruition, and neither of you could be happier. 

Once recovered, Colin quickly got down on his knees and lovingly placed a kiss to your covered stomach, staring up at you with intense love and devotion in his eyes. You reached down and carded your hand through his thick, chestnut locks, thinking how lucky you were to have someone like Colin in your life. 

“Hello, little bean.” he whispered sweetly. “I cannot wait to meet you, so you just stay safe and keep growing in there until it’s time.” Colin instructed, pulling a laugh from your lips. 

“Little bean?” you questioned the nickname for your unborn child. 

Colin shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Well, we don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter, so I shall call our precious gift ‘little bean’ for the time being.” he explained as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

“Well this little bean and myself love you dearly, Colin.” you praised, smiling down at your husband. 

“And I, the both of you.” he vowed, offering your stomach one more kiss before standing up, unable to keep his lips away from yours. 

5 months 

Colin beamed as he watched you walk into the drawing room and sat down, admiring the glow that you seemed to radiate. The months were passing quickly, and now that there was a visible bump it made your situation feel all the more real. Of course, you had received so much love and support from not only Colin, but the rest of his family, especially the women who had already experienced a pregnancy of their own. It warmed your heart to know you were not alone in this endeavor. 

“Oh!” you suddenly gasped, quickly setting your teacup down and rubbing your stomach where you felt a slight discomfort. 

“Is everything alright, love?” Colin asked as he rushed to your side. “Do we need to call for the doctor? My mother?” he listed, worry glazing over his eyes as he hovered, waiting for your instruction. 

The movement repeated and with your hand rested over your bump, you smiled, realizing what had just happened. “No, no, everything is perfect.” you whispered, lost in wonder and awe. 

“Then what is it?” Colin inquired, still concerned and needing answers. 

Wordlessly, you grabbed his hand and rested it on your stomach, moving it around for a few seconds before pressing down. Colin was about to protest further until he felt the same sensation you did just moments before and his eyes widened at the spot his hand rested on. His eyes then flicked up to meet yours, and neither of you could contain the joy you felt. 

“That’s our little bean in there.” he whispered, voice shaky and eyes misty. 

“That it is.” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the moment, though you let out a small giggle when you felt the baby kick again. 

“She’s going to be just as beautiful as her mother.” he said. 

“She?” you questioned. “What happened to little bean?” 

“Oh, she’s still our little bean, but I just have a hunch that we’re going to have a daughter to love and spoil.” Colin said, pulling you into your side and soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your bump, and that is where the two of you stayed for the rest of the afternoon. 

8 months 

The further along in your pregnancy you were, the more you found it difficult to sleep, tossing and turning as your child constantly kicked against your stomach. Luckily, Colin was always there to help you and even stayed awake with you on those restless nights. However, one night when sleep was achieved quite easily, you found yourself awakening to Colin’s soft voice. It only took a moment to realize he was talking to your baby, so you kept your eyes closed and your breath even, not wanting to interrupt the moment. 

“I can’t wait until I can hold you in my arms, little bean.” he whispered to your belly, hand supporting his one hand while the other ever so gently rested on your stomach. “You’re mother and I cannot wait for you to be in our lives, and you’re going to be so spoiled between your mother and I and all your aunts and uncles.” 

It was difficult to hold in a laugh as you imagined Colin’s words to be true. The two of you were eager to start your family, and the rest of the Bridgerton clan always enthusiastically welcomed another niece or nephew to dote upon. 

“Speaking of your mother,” Colin continued. “we are so lucky that she is in our lives. I know that this has been difficult for her, but you have been blessed with the best mother. We’ll both have to love and appreciate her as much as possible.” 

By that point, it was exceedingly difficult to keep your act up as you felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. How were you so lucky to have such a caring and attentive man like Colin in your life? It seemed as though your baby had been listening and agreed with Colin because right after he spoke, another sharp kick could be felt. 

“Are you giving your mother trouble, little bean?” he asked, brows furrowed as he awaited another kick. “What did I just say about being kind to your mother? It is not nice to kick her that hard, especially at night.” he reprimanded in the gentlest voice. “Even if she is pretending to be asleep.” he added with a smug grin, looking up to meet your eyes. 

Sheepishly, you looked down at your husband. “How did you know I was awake?” you asked, curious as to what it was that gave you away. 

“I could feel your small laugh earlier on.” he admitted, and shifted his body so that he was face to face with you instead of your stomach. “But I truly meant every word I spoke.” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

When you pulled away, you couldn’t stop the tears that ran down your cheeks, moved by the love Colin always gave you. “I’m so lucky to be doing this with you by my side. You are going to be the best father, Colin.” you told him, your voice watery but sincere. 

Colin gently brushed away your tears and kissed the spots where tear tracks had been left behind as he entwined your hand with his. “I think I am the lucky one, love.” he countered, and curled into your side for the rest of the night. 

birth 

The moment you went into labor, Colin was there to hold your hand while sending out for the midwife and doctor as well as his mother. When the doctor tried to shove him out of the room, Colin held his ground and demanded that he be allowed to stay by his wife’s side; he was not about to leave you to fend for yourself at this hour. Hesitantly, the doctor granted his request, and you sighed a breath of relief, as Violet smiled to herself at the sight, her heart warmed at how dedicated the two of you were to each other. 

Hours later, filled with blood, sweat, and tears, you were propped up in your bed, gently holding your daughter in your arms. It was a tender scene between yourself, Colin, and y/d/n. Colin held you in arms and kissed the top of your head while gently stroking his daughter’s cheek with his thumb. It felt surreal that you child was now here and that your family had grown to three. 

“She’s beautiful.” you said, voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your eyes from your daughter. 

“Just like her mother.” Colin responded, squeezing you a bit tighter. “Thank you, y/n.” he suddenly said, causing you to look up at him. 

“Whatever for?” you asked. 

Colin took a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke. “For starting our family, for being so strong to support our daughter until she was ready to meet us, for making me so incredibly happy every single day.” he listed over, each one more passionate than the last. 

It was already an emotional day, and you didn’t think your heart could feel any more full, but as usual, Colin found a way to prove you wrong. “I love you so much.” you told him, and he leant his head down to rest against yours as the two of you spent the next couple hours admiring the newest addition to your family. 

Later that night, Colin found that he could not sleep, the excitement and adrenaline of the previous day’s events still coursing through his veins. Carefully, he untangled himself from your embrace and padded over to the bassinet in the corner of your room where your daughter slept. He knelt down next to her and simply watched as she slept her first night. A few minutes later, your daughter opened her eyes and met Colin’s gaze. 

“Hello there, little bean.” he whispered, not wanting to frighten her or wake you up. “I just want to let you know that I love you so, so much, and I’m always going to be here to protect you.” Colin promised as he offered a finger for your daughter to grab a hold of with her tiny hand, ready for everything the future would bring. 

oOoOo

tagging: @dreaming-about-fanfictions​, @elennox03

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual ! 

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif 

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense. 

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for. 

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically. 

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water. 

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out. 

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however. 

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again. 

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

 It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly. 

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly. 

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.  

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be. 

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening. 

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features. 

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes. 

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly. 

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

TAGLIST:

@viirgobbyy  @bluesunflowersz  @dreamyvcid  @goddessofgames  @natt-nih  @cheesecakes-randomshitz  @supersouthy  @rebellionsarebuiltonhopee  @peter-parka​  @thefandomplace​  @angelofslytherin​  @karentheugly​  @thebirdskeeponsinging​  @rubbyy420​  @bimyoux​  @lovely-valllll​  @angstywhore​  @moose-squirrel-asstiel​  @lordfxxker​  @dommiefinch​  @johannalauraaa​  @aestheticallymarauderss​  @mrs-isabela-malfoy @dogglefoggle​ @ba-responds​ @1tristful1

APOLOGIES IF I FORGOT ANYONEEE 🥺 BUT I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO IT WASNT TOOO EVENTFUL ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I GOT ACTION FOR THE NEXT PIECES THO JUST WAITTTT