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penvisions · 10 months ago

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 17}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: Din Djarin is not a remorseful man. Everything he's done, he's done for a reason. But he finds himself in an internal struggle as he tears through the galaxy for traces of you.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical fighting, use of narcotics, use of drugs, reader gets drugged, reader gets kidnapped, reader gets tied up, kidnapping, controlling parent, toxic parent / child relationship, toxic parent / child dynamic, din has a lot of feelings, din reflects on his time spent with reader, death, minor character death, infectious thoughts, negative feelings, feelings of inadequacy, issues with intimacy, religious guilt, feelings of religious obligation, religious contemplation, so much guilt for our tin man, violence, derogative language, insinuations of sexual favors, a few instances of shouting, din loses his hold on reality (1) time, references to past instances of self-harm, references to past instances of suicidal ideations, let me know if i missed anything please!

A/N: an all din pov chapter, baby! who's ready for ten thousand words on how this man feels? this was a fun different way to approach the story and i rather liked it even if i am afraid to post it. there are so many different interpretations of din that are all so great, and while this is my personal one for the character in my fic, i'm still worried about how it'll be received

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Mother, please.” You begged, voice absolutely wrecked. Desperation settled in your gut, making you dizzy and nauseous. The illness of it was debilitating even through the hum of drugs waning in your system. Sobs were wracking your body, exploding from your ribcage in painful bursts. You struggled against the cuffs on your wrists, the cuffs around your ankles, rotating them in hopes of finding weakness but they were strong. But they were made of beskar, strong and programmed to shock you should you jostle them too much. Using the culture of the very people who had meant salvation now for damnation. She had made sure they would hold you this time.

She just sat there, watching you from the chair by the door. Long hair pulled up into a knot atop her head, blue tunic and black trousers flowing and clean. Her hands clasped in front of her, resting her chin against them as her eyes took in the slump of your form across the small room. You were on the ground, legs numb from the hard, unforgiving stone underneath you. Boots removed and down to nothing but your simple clothing. She had taken the pendant from you, the one Din had gifted you in the wake of your confession to losing the one from Akiz. It glinted over her own chest, visible where she allowed it to drape over the front of her collar.

“Please. I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to the ship. I want to go home.”

“Oh no, my darling, you won’t be going anywhere near that disgusting ship again. That Mandalorian has caused enough damage, stealing you away after taking your fob. I still had to pay the Guild fee for your bounty. Credits you know we didn’t have in the first place.” She paused, her hands clasped together, elbows on her knees, and she leaned forward to rest her hand atop them. A wicked smile overtook her as she eyed you across the room.

“Luckily, I found someone who was willing to cover the cost and offer to take you as their wife. They’ve put a lot of energy and credits into helping locate you. They will be here in two days’ time to collect you.”

She looked almost mournful at the idea of you leaving so soon after reuniting. Of sharing you with another after claiming to do everything she had ever done to you out of protection.

“But he swore to protect you from any threats, from the Mandalorians that seem to be obsessed with owning you, harnessing your power to help them crawl from the cracks of the universe they ran to hide in when their planet was destroyed. This man, he’s from a very important royal line that is deeply rooted in the New Republic.”

“The New Republic is a joke, they can’t even keep their own soldiers happy, let alone protect anyone.”

“Hush now, darling.” She got up and the black tin she kept in her pocket flashed in her hand. You began thrashing even more so, tears cascading down your cheeks as she approached you. The click of the tin opening sent you back to every other time you had heard that sound in your life, eyes going wide and your breath left you as if you had been hit square in the chest. “The time will fly by with this dose and then we’ll be off to our new home.”

He’d been searching the city for days.

Despite the thrumming of pain through his head, his vision blurring, and the helmet resting too heavy on the now soft, new skin that was his injury. Tender fingers carefully spraying bacta and skin itching as the tissue tried to heal with its aid. He wished for your smaller hands to be the one caring for him, but he was alone. Alone with a fussing child that was beginning to use his powers to get his feelings across since he was still learning how to talk and use his little voice.

Not taking any time to rest, instincts telling him something was wrong, that something had happened. You wouldn’t just run off, even with what had occurred. At least…not for this long. He hoped. He…hoped.

Stalking through the various casinos and cantina’s, searching for any traces of you to be found. Even in the hectic atmospheres of the racetracks and brothels, of seedier bars and establishments you may have ducked into or been taken to by the force of whoever had stolen you away. Snatched you from whatever you had sought out to calm yourself.

He sat in front of the tracking fob given to him when he first took the job to return you to your mother for hours. Set it atop the control panels in the cockpit, helmet removed and head in his hands as he contemplated turning the device back on. He had scoured the hotels and seedier hostels with it in his grip, to no avail.

It was as if you had simply vanished.

Your smiles and laughter, soft sighs and teasing quips a figment of his imagination.

Made up in the loneliness that accompanied the type of life he led. Missions, jobs, hunting, tracking, trading in criminals and runaways for next to nothing, refueling the ship and hitting the ground running again, taking to the air and space again. And again, and again. He didn’t realize how tired and monotonous it had all become, despite the thrill of his skills proofing to be elite time and time again. He didn’t realize how much he had been missing out on until you threw it all off track. Deliver the goods and credits to the covert, ensure they were safe and protected, collect another job, hunt, track, kill, injure, collect. Broke the routine he had been so accustomed to with an utterance of his dying language. Rolling off your tongue with precision.

It had been striking. You had been striking and he had torn you down in a way he never wanted to, unintentionally with a fumbling lack of words. It was maddening, to search for days to find no trace of you anywhere.

There was no indication you ever existed aside from those left behind on his ship. The mug of caf sweetened with sugar and powdered milk at the table, the pack of your cigarras you always insisted on smoking outside while it was docked, the crate with your tools and materials used to make armor, the neat and organized labels you had applied to everything within the panels. The room he had set up for you….though you often split your time between his own and the hammock still hung up in the hold space.

He had left it all untouched, too afraid to erase the pieces of evidence that you were real. That you had been aboard his ship. That you had been trying to connect with him and he stumbled over his words so badly he made you feel unwanted on such a level that made you run.

Like the acts between you two had just been him seeking out pleasure with no real intent other than that behind them. The thought that you must’ve felt like he was just like every other person who had ever used you made his stomach turn and bile burn in his throat. Only his ploys had been steeped in honey and saccharine promises. He had frozen, the words he wanted to whisper to you lost in the panic of the moment, of wanting exactly what you were asking for. It had all been so overwhelming. It had been so real, felt so real, and it had been a jarring realization.

That he had wanted to remove his helmet and give into your request.

Despite the Creed he swore his life to. Despite the commitment he had made to you that would allow for him to do so in time.

But now it was too little too late.

After the third day, he was beginning to think you weren’t merely taking some time to yourself…

Maybe he was foolish to think he hadn’t messed up so monumentally that you had found a way off world and run even further from him. But he knew you weren’t the type of person to do that. To him, to ad’ika.

Burc’ya. Friend.

Ner kar’ta. My heart.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. I love you.

Vencuyot riduur. Future husband.

You wouldn’t have run from him to that degree, loyal and devoted. Loving and caring, kind hearted at the very core of who you were. Even despite the tragedies and ill-natured things you had been subjected to in your life. Good. Too good, for someone like him.

He was beginning to think something had happened.

But without the aid of your communication, vambraces still set atop the makeshift table along with your main bag and armor, he had no way of knowing for sure. Just the niggling feeling in his gut that was burrowing deeper by the second.

He sent a transmission to Karga, asking if there was any news of your arrest before deeming the planet a lost cause and raising the ramp. He took the Crest up up up and into the air, helmet scouring the shrinking planet all the while, feeling an ache in his heart that he didn’t think he would ever get used to.

He had to push through, he had to focus. You needed someone to help you, wherever you had gone or been taken. You needed him to find you. He needed to find you.

Ad’ika had been in a constant flux from eerily silent to wailing as loud as his little lungs would allow, wide eyes brimming with tears the longer you were gone. Din had taken to wrapping the child up in the cloak he had bought you, securing it with the metallic flower latches and laying him down in the cot alongside him. Never sleeping, only laying down intermittently to pass the time. Rest evading him as his mind began to think of the things that could’ve happened to you.

Tatooine was his first stop, no response from Karga when he docked and secured the ship in Pelli’s hangar. Much to his disappointment, the travel through hyperspace hadn’t been too long, so a response was wishful thinking on his part. Spurred on by the endless possibilities of what happened consuming him.

He was silent as he handed her the credits from your bag, loathing that he needed to use them as he lacked his own. Even now, gone from him and hurt, you were still offering him help. Providing for him the way he should be for you, the way that he wanted to. The reality of having asked you to travel with him weighing heavily on his mind. Once ad’ika is settled with those who could train him, Din would need to take up working with the Guild full time again to provide for the covert. A life steeped in danger and endless threats, a life you already had far too much experience with. Perhaps…perhaps he could secure a tract of land somewhere, a place to return to after jobs. A nice cabin surrounded by trees and an endless supply of anything you may need. Or perhaps a shop front on Nevarro, for you to sell you wares. He would take extra jobs to provide that for you, work his hands to the bone and until he could barely move for how exhausted he was.

Because you deserved it. You deserved to be happy and he was beginning to think that may not be with him. Not if he was constantly away or you were left on the ship for days, weeks, months at a time while he tracked down his quarries. Constantly traveling through space and left to handle the ship alone.

Would…would you even want that type of life?

Wouldn’t it be another type of imprisonment, no reward but a tired and aching man in the bed beside you only a handful of nights? Half of him given to you, half devoted to his Creed.

I’d rather be dead than be someone’s captive again. Even if it’s as one to you, jatne vod.

Thoughts consuming him, there was no argument from him as he left ad’ika with her to look through the city.

The lack of your figure emerging from the ship didn’t prompt any questions from her, though he could sense them on the tip of her tongue and the front of her mind.

He set out, looking for the woman who you made friends with the last time he had landed the Crest on the sandy planet.

He found her, in the middle of a scuffle in the marketplace over a stolen loaf of bread. A child whose stomach was caved in and bruises over their arms visible when the sleeves of their tunic rose up. The vendor wanted the child to be taken in, punished for the attempted theft. But he could see how conflicted Sioban was with following that heated demand.

Diffusing the situation, seeing the form he had first encountered you in mirrored in the small child, he stepped forward and offered a handful of credits to the vendor.

“To cover the bread for the child, two loaves and that chunk of cured meat.”

“Sir, this has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to put yourself out for that ungrateful litte-“

“Take it.” Din’s head throbbed, exhausted and anxious, just trying to do something good. Something you would do. They were your credits, and he wanted to do this. At the fixed stare of his visor, the vendor released the child from her tight grip, nearly throwing the small frame to the ground as she did. Roughly, she gathered the loaf that had started the whole ordeal, a second one, and the wrapped meat. Holding it out for him to take.

Sioban ushered everyone who had stopped in their tracks to go about their business. Once the small crowd cleared and attention was diverted, Din turned to the child and crouched down.

“Here, for you.” He kept his voice a hush, not wanting the modulator to manipulate his voice into a threatening or menacing tone it tended to do, taking the emotion from his words more often than not.

“T-thank you, sir.”

“Now go and stay out of trouble.”

An enthusiastic nod and they were running off, disappearing down the street.

“Well, well, well. Mando is a softie afterall.” Sioban’s voice lightly teased. “Where’s Sarad and the baby? Or is this a solo trip this time around?”

“I would like to speak with you, if you have the time.”

“Something happened.” The woman’s features hardened, a slant to her brow as her eyes looked him over before settling on the visor. She didn’t look or feel like a threat, something proven further by your willingness to share a table with the woman. But Din was fighting his instincts, the ones telling him to chase chase chase, even with no actual leads as to where you had gone. And this woman might hold some clues or at least be able to offer Din a higher chance if he had someone on the ground of the planet you had run to once already.

“Yes.”

The conversation with Sioban hadn’t yielded any answers. If anything, it solidified that Din had absolutely no idea what to do. With no other leads, he fell back on his tracking tactics, searching for your last place of known residence.

Once back to the ship, he silently takes ad’ika from Pelli. Not responding to the looks or faint questioning he knew was on the woman’s mind. A nod, a formal shaking of the woman’s hand and he was guiding the Crest back into the air to comb over the planet as best he could. You had said you thought you were here when he took you from that compound, a home you had hidden away on this world after running from your mother years ago.

It took him nearly a week’s worth of days of flying low to the land before he caught sight of a structure.

Mind working overdrive as he strained his eyes through the visor with aided mechanics for any sign of life amid the vast stretch of the desert landscape. Sectors outlined and crossed out when they didn’t yield anything. Errant skeletons of a bantha, the Jawa’s traveling across the land, and Tusken settlements the only markers of time passing and the ship moving moderately along.

And then, suddenly.

There were two tall spires beside a moderate looking abode. Moisture farming equipment, the same you had told him about replacing shortly before your capture. Was all he had to go off of, a small conversation that you hadn’t expanded on in your time with him.

The structure was like most far out into the desert, mostly underground with a rounded and smooth stone roof, a door with a protected entrance to prevent sand from building up right up against it. It was modest, big enough for one person to have plenty of room. Abandoned, by his guess, the stone of the building chipped in places from sand and the spare storm weathering it down.

It had to be yours, it had to be, please let it be yours were his thoughts as he broke the lock still activated, ensuring the structure was protected even out in the middle of nowhere. Mos Eisley was an entire day’s travel away. Even more so in any other direction to another of the planets handful of moderate settlements. A good place to hide. Visibility on your side. A lonely place to hide.

I’ve always loved the forest.

The memory how your tired and injured features had lit up at the sight of Sorgan visible through the glass of the cockpit, the breathy gasp that had fallen from your lips sprung to his mind. You had been so calm, despite the precarious circumstances, stealing away moments to brush your bare fingers along the leaves reaching out from low branches.

You must’ve been miserable here. The land so dry and empty, the closest mountain ridges barely visible on the horizon. Even those were spotty with tangled roots that held little to no greenery. Sentencing yourself to the wasteland to live out your life in fear and comfortability, hoping the environment you weren’t fond of would throw those searching for you off your trail.

Glancing behind him, Din watched as ad’ika slowly made his way down the ramp. Little sounds falling from his lips as he took in the sight of his guardian in front of a new place he didn’t recognize. Raising his hands as he got to the bottom of it, Din retreated to it and lifted up the small child, holding him tight in the crook of his elbow as he descended down the few steps and through the open door.

It was dark inside, no lights on or power source even charged, no doubt. But definitely abandoned. Sparingly decorated, though he could feel that it was once your space. The kitchen equipped with a fancy caf maker, ample kitchen wares, potted plants and herbs that had long died and dried in the sunlight coming in through the windows. There was an impressively organized wall of shelving right above a desk in the large main room, presumably where you would work on crafting armor. The only way to support yourself in such an environment. Most likely making trips into town in order to sell or trade.

There were three interior doors at the back of the structure. A heavy duty one off to the side of the kitchen. That one contained a greenhouse set up, or as close to one as you could imitate underground and on so hot a planet. There was a large panel of controls beside the door on the inside, telling Din of the way you controlled the pressure and moisture of the room One to a storage room, more evidence of your time spent here. Full of large bins and crates, evidence of grains and dried food. Of the pieces of armor you lovingly and intricately crafted.

One to a fresher, the last to what was once your bedroom.

Underneath the bed is where he found it, with the aid of his helmet. The massive rug that took up most of the bedroom floor hiding it in plain sight. The trap door exposed when he moved the bed and folded the rug up.

It wasn’t secured with anything that he could see, even with the aid of his helmet. It looked just like score marks dug into the stone ground. And he recalled the way you could effortlessly wield the Force, the power you shared with the child. Perhaps you hadn’t wanted a way for anyone else to access what lay hidden beneath, using it to manipulate the hideaway you felt you needed even this deep in the desert alone. Forever paranoid and fearful of being tracked down and found out.

Sighing, Din tried to think of a way to break the barrier, knowing he needed to search the entire home.

“Ad’ika,” He called, turning to see the child had situated himself on the couch in the main room. Eyes wide as he toyed with a broken collar. He wondered if it had belonged to a creature you had cared for, run away or long since passed now. “Ad’ika, can you help me?”

Leaning down to pick up the occupied child, Din pointed a gloved finger to the marks in the stone ground.

“Ad’ika, see these lines?” A gurgle of acknowledgement, the tilting of his head. “There’s a door here, that leads underground. Mesh’la put it there, do you think you can open it?”

Din set him down in front of it, crouching down to hold his hand out in front of them both and mimic the way you would twist your hand in concentration to harness your powers.

“Just like Mesh’la, like how you take the handle from the lever in the control room?”

Wide eyes looked up at him, curiosity in them at the man’s words.

If this didn’t work…he could always resort to using the charges fastened to his belt. Force a way through the entrance, but he didn’t want to damage the space or the room below.

But the crackling of stone was sharp as it sounded in the air. The child’s small face scrunched up in concentration, his eyes clenched shut as he harnessed his powers. Quiet grunts falling from his mouth as he struggled to move the stone.

But it was working. It was opening, the telltale sounds of stone grinding on stone as the thick slab that acted as an entrance was pried open.

“Good job, ad’ika! It’s working!” He couldn’t contain the pride in his voice nor the rapid beating of his heart. Positive that any answers he was in search of would dwell below. He moved forward to help lift the heavy slab, shoving it along the floor and revealing a dark space into the lower level of the house.

Turning on the flashlight of his helmet, Din descended into the bowels of your hideaway. Dust enveloped him as he waved at ad’ika to stay put on the higher level until he cleared the space.

It was a large room, the same size as the whole top floor of the structure. Though it was only two rooms, a living room and a bedroom with a second fresher. The living room held floor to ceiling bookcases, filled to the brim with physical books. A holo net in front of the couch, signs that you spent just as much time down here as you did in the rest of the structure if not more. He hated the realization that you felt the need to hide away even this far out in the desert, this far out in the galaxy. Forever paranoid and holding the fear that you would be tracked down. And he had been a part of that fear, he had been one of the many who had sought you out.

The crate in the bedroom caught his eye, beckoning him forward. Not only because of the hefty locks sealing it shut but because there was energy around it that made the tips of his fingers tingle. Much like his blood when he felt your body pressed up to his own, the sacrament of your trust in him personified.

Walking toward it, the small baby curls of his recently trimmed hair prickled on the back of his neck.

Snapping the thick locks, he kneeled on the ground in front of it and slowly lifted the lid.

His breath left him as the visor set into a midnight blue, almost black Mandalorian helmet peered back up at him. It was in pristine condition, as if it had merely been taken off for the man who he suspected wore it to partake in a quick meal and not the reality that it had been stored here for who knows how many years untouched. He hadn’t asked if you had kept it, after the man’s death, but he was felt the question bubble on his tongue more than once. But the answer was sitting obvious and blaring right in front of him.

Lifting it revealed the very same pendant he had gifted to you, attached to a thinly crafted beskar chain.

The one you had said you intended to show him in order to garner his help, to let him know of your connection to his way of life. Lost in the scuffle of being taken off guard and whisked away, but it was here, awaiting your return. He wondered why you hadn’t worn it that day, the day that set your paths up to cross. With slow movements, he began to remove the cowl about his neck, laying it down beside him.

With a held breath, he reached for the pendant and fastened it around his neck, tucking it beneath his shirt and layers of protective ware fronted by his cuirass. The cowl going back in place.

Beside the helmet…beside it was a neatly arranged line of metal hilts similar to the one you carried with you at all times. Similar to the one you had tried to buy your freedom from him with when first meeting.

Similar but not identical.

There were four of them. Lightsabers, you had told him they were called. That he now knew were an integral part of the creed you had been trained in. But the fact remained that he didn’t know the why of how many you had in your possession.

You had said each person similar in skill and training crafted their own, each unique and personal to an individual much like the helmets and armor Mandalorian’s adorned. Carefully picking one up, tingling traveling further up his arms and settling down his back, he tilted it to see that it did indeed house a crystal like your own. Each one had a different hue.

He decided to stay in the place that you once called home that night, locking up the ship after checking to see if he had received word from Karga. But when there were transmissions waiting to be heard, he secured the ship. His head hurting and his mind overwhelmed at finding pieces of you, proof that you existed outside of his memories.

Settling into the bed, he knew it was a lost cause as he tried to feel close to you. Reality reminding him you hadn’t slept in either of the cots aboard the ship in nearly two weeks now, years for the bed he now lay atop, cover bunched underneath his arms as he curled on his side and regarded the journal you left behind in your haste to run. Ad’ika resting atop the pillow beside his own, wrapped in your cloak as if it was the softest blanket in the universe. The child trying to feel close to you as well, missing you and growing more concerned each day.

Sleep evaded him, your voice loud in his head, the way you had sounded so devoid of emotion when he had failed to communicate with you. Tipping into different memories, the most prominent of the events back on Nevarro.

It rang in his ears, over and over, layering itself until it was a buzz he couldn’t rid himself of.

Ner kar’ta.

The desperation in your voice, the tears in your eyes, the way your hands shook as they reached out for him, how gentle they were when they cradled his helmet. The soft press of your forehead to his chest, to his helmet, to his hands grasped in your own as he lay bloodied and injured, barely conscious and so tired. So ready for death after a life that had only allowed him a glimpse of you. To ensure you could escape and continue to live, to be safe.

You had told him, as well as you could, what you meant to him.

Had shown him, with trusting him to press his skin to yours, body tangled with his own. Nervous giggles sounding into the air and seizing his heart as he wanted for more of them. Of the breathy sighs and sounds that fell from your lips as you let him caress your skin, the soft give of your chest, the plush give of your thighs, the velvet smooth apex between them.

Trusted him with the most intimate parts of you, parts of human connection. Even in the face of all that you had endured.

And then you has whispered it, half asleep and safe underneath him.

I love you. Future husband.

And he shattered it. With a foolish blunder of words he hadn’t been able to reign in, to explain himself and his own desires in a more coherent way. That he wanted you just as you wanted him.

Jatne vod.

Contradicted with the emotion bleeding from your expressive eyes, the firm line of your lips as you closed your mouth, resigned to a notion that you gathered from his stupid, ill thought-out words. From his lack of words. The way your hands shook for an entirely different reason, the way you shrunk into yourself, away from him.

And then you had been gone.

And it hurt.

He left ad’ika in the room, fast asleep atop the pillows.

Removing his helmet and hanging his head in his hands, he settled on the couch. For the first time in a long time, the Mandalorian known for being so ruthless, for being so focused and emotionless behind his helmet, cried.

“Mando, I’ve received word. But it is best relayed in person. I will be awaiting your arrival.”

Ad’ika was not having a good day, he didn’t want to leave the house he could feel your presence in. He had already wailed and shook his tiny fists as Din tried to pick up him. Causing the migraine addled man to lose his grip at the sharp pierce of his cries to his head. That had only resulted in the thump of ad’ika’s bottom on the stone floor and more crying.

Din already felt bad enough, but he felt like the worst guardian in the galaxy for dropping his foundling, for not being able to manage his own pain and discomfort to care for another’s. A pang of fear floods him, igniting his instincts in a way it rarely did. And he froze in his crouched position, having been about to scoop ad’ika up.

The child must’ve shared in his foreboding, a shriek sprouting from him and causing Din to cradle his head as best he could with the helmet, knees kissing the floor harshly as he fell to them.

Something was wrong. Low in his gut, unease bubbled and stuck to his insides.

He felt like he was going to be sick, his head throbbing, pain prickling from the healing scar at the back.

And then his body felt numb, like all sense of command was not his to control and his vision blacked out.

Nevarro loomed in the distance, approaching fast. The ship rattled at the harsh landing, Din’s steps hard and fast as he disembarked, the ramp closing behind him as he crossed the new archway that had been erected in the time he had been away. Months had gone by, one with you and one without. Having to spend another week resting in the place you once called home. He had fallen ill, though of what he didn’t have an answer. Only that his head felt like he had been electrocuted and his limbs had been hard to control. Adi’ka too, had been lethargic, crying out long into the night every time the suns had set and darkness took over the planet. The search for you stretching far too long, anxiety thrumming over his skin.

Karga was in the reconstructed city hall, reading over something laid out on the table when the door boomed open, revealing the determined figure of Din, a secretary behind him frantically trying to warn the man in charge of his arrival.

“Where?”

“Sir, please, you need to check in-“

“It’s alright, he’s got clearance.” With a nod the woman was closing the door behind her, knowing it was serious if all protocol was being ignored.

Din repeated his question, forgoing a formal greeting.

“Well, I wish these were better circumstances.” The man stood up, coming around the table and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the still form of Din across the room. The wide eyes of the child peeking out from the bag at his hip, small hands allowing him to climb from within it and jump from the moderate height. He cooed, walking the distance to Karga and lifting his hands toward the man.

“I’m still trying to get intel on that. But I do know that it was her mother, who struck a deal with someone of the Guild. He…was here still when we took back the city. He had taken the transaction separate from the Guild, not wanting word of it to get back to me. To you.” He relayed the information as he bent down to pick up the small being.

“I’ve got him locked up, but he’s not speaking.”

“He will.”

“Mando-“

He was gone in a blink, stalking out the door and toward the prison cells kept on the lowest floor of the building.

The stone steps opened up to a line of cells on both sides of the long room, Din stopped in front of the only occupied one. Body buzzing with anger that the inhabitant had not only hunted you down and captured you but did so on the orders of someone who’s voice triggered you through a transmission. He couldn’t begin to imagine the visceral reaction you’d have upon seeing her for the first time in years, having entertained the thought of killing yourself in order to not have to deal with her again.

And he feared, heat catching in his throat as he felt the prickle of tears.

I’d rather be dead than be shackled for one more second of my life!

You…you wouldn’t, right? Now that you had him to return to, someone to rescue you from being stolen away from the life you had carved out for yourself. It had been so long since you had been taken, days, weeks, and entire month. And he still had no clue as to where you had been crated off to. It would be more days, more weeks, maybe another month before he could figure it out. Did you already seize an unknown opportunity, try to escape? Or had you given up, too loaded up with whatever drugs your mother and intended pumped into your system to make you compliant? Would you have taken the endless out of harming yourself, seeing it as the only option as he failed to come to your aid thus far?

Would you be able to sense the desperation and endless efforts he was putting forth to find you? That he was trying, despite the way he was still healing, despite the sense of dread that he would be too late?

Would you be able to sense his worry and fear over you having to deal with something you never wished for? A forced reunion with your mother, back in her clutches and control. A forced marriage to a man you didn’t know, the obligations that came along with that notion…the very same acts that had caused you to turn to self-harm in the past, the scars of which were displayed on the skin of your thighs, the same ones that he had run his fingers over not too long ago…

A man bound in cuffs was slumped against the floor, back leaning on the wall behind him. He appeared to be alive, though if his answers didn’t aid Din in his search for you he wouldn’t be for long. Giving into the urge to startle the unaware man, Din banged a fist on the bars of the cell. Jerking awake, the man’s eyes flew open and his chest heaved.

The second he recognized the armor, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“It was just a job, nothing personal, Mando.”

“Is that why you went out of your way to hide it from the Guild records?”

“You’re too self-righteous, knew you’d come after me for hunting the girl.”

The snapping of metal was loud, sickening as Din’s shoulders forced the control panel to bend and spark.

The whine of the door swinging open deafening as the man pressed himself back into the wall, trying to get up on his feet. But he was too slow, Din’s hands hauling the man up by the front of his jumpsuit and slamming him into the wall. A crack sounded as the back of the man’s head connected with the stone of the wall. A wail punched from his chest as he lost the air in his lungs.

“It’s too late, her mother married her off to some high lord. She’s probably already knocked up with his heir by now. Living a cush life in some nice palace far away from here.” He spoke unprompted by a direct question. Knowing that it was useless to try and lie to the Mandalorian.

The mere thought of someone touching you had anger swirling in his chest and stomach, igniting him in a dangerous way. You didn’t like people touching you, you didn’t like anyone who wasn’t him touching you in any way let alone intimately. His voice was low when he breathed out his next question, an edge to it that commanded the truth.

“Where?”

“Don’t know, I told her mother you were probably going to find out, track me down and kill me for the information. Don’t know why.” The man flipped the stray hairs flopping over his forehead away, teeth clenching as he recalled the way you had slammed him harshly into the side of the alley. “The bitch has a pretty face, sure, but she was a handful. Took a lot to take her out, but once I did, she begged so sweet for me to let her go.”

“Drugging someone isn’t something to boast about, it’s a last-ditch effort for those who don’t have the skill for the job.” Din’s words were a guttural sound, echoing across the floor. Blood dripped from the man’s nose, a vambrace knocked into it the longer the man talked. He didn’t know anything, but that wouldn’t stop Din from beating what he could out of the man.

“So what? It took her down and that’s what mattered. I saw her take down those Storm Troopers that overran the city, there was no way I was going to be able to without the hint from her mother. You’ll find another body to warm your bed. No need to fret over-“

Din’s hand was around the man’s throat in a flash, knuckles popping with the force. An ugly gurgle deep in his chest, body desperate for air, but he would never take another breath again. Windpipe crushing under his palm, Din took some comfort in the final, choked sound the man made before his body went limp.

Before it could even crumple to the ground, Din was walking out of the room and going straight toward the stairs.

“Mando, I sent communication to Cara, she’s-“

“I’ve got what I need.” Din was careful as he lifted the child from atop the desk where Karga had set him with a snack. Exchanging adoring coos with the tired little being. Making sure to offer the rest of the pack of dried fruit to the claws reaching out for it, a whine falling from his mouth at the idea of leaving it behind.

“Not so fast-“

“I don’t have time. I need to find her.” Din snapped, fists clenching and ad’ika ducking down into the bag at the boom of his voice. “She’s been sold like a slave by her mother.”

“I’m going with you,” Cara was firm in her decision, not wanting to take any chances of your distance becoming permanent. Of it leading to the demise of the person who you had begun to develop into that she had glimpsed.

“No, I have to handle this myself. I was the one who failed to protect her.” He moved to continue through the room, toward the door. But Cara was suddenly in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips a firm line.

“Mando, you’re gonna need help. And she’s important to me too.”

It was a quiet trek back to the entrance of the city, more ships having landed around his own. He was about to engage the ramp when two of the attending guards approached him. But they spoke with Cara at the sharp gaze of the visor on them. Another ship was offered for them to use, curtesy of the city and of Karga. Something a little smaller, a little faster, nondescript and wouldn’t give away the presence of an enraged and desperate Mandalorian searching for his partner.

When the argument for a different ship didn’t take, Karga approached through the archway.

Cara was hesitant to point out that the ship was as obvious as Din’s armor. A sign to tip off those keeping an eye out for threats. She had been quiet, sitting in the office with the magistrate and the child while the body of the now deceased Guild member who had hunted you down was taken care of. Waiting for Din to emerge from the containment level. But now she stood beside him, urging him to see the benefits to changing ships, just for the time being.

“Do we risk docking the ship in a hangar?”

“Yes, we lie about the model.” Din insisted, not wanting to leave the Crest behind.

“What if someone knows?”

“It’s an old ship, pre-Empire, no one will know.”

“They’ll run it through the system.” Karga spoke up, wanting to be a voice of reason for his friend determined to rush, to not take a beat and think things through. “Mando, you owe it to her to be as stealthy as possible. If they know you’re coming, once you track down where, they may hurt her. Take it out on her.”

Din closed his eyes, hand coming to the front of his helmet and over the visor. He didn’t want to part ways with his ship, even temporarily. It would mean he wasn’t surrounded by the things you left behind, the proof that you were real, had been with him, shared in a life with him even for a moment.

With his words more of a grunt than anything, he conceded, knowing the two beside him were just trying to help.

“What did you do Mando?” She asked quietly, the book from your crate in her hands and pages flipping as she looked through it. Hoping to find some light on how to connect with you. Din had gathered supplies from the Crest, things you may want once he managed to find you and rescue you.Your armor and more of your clothing, the first things he packed into your bag. An insistence for you to never leave the ship without the pauldrons again that he would plead with you until you conceded. People would be less likely to confront you with the tell-tale signet of a clan and the Mandalorian armor. But then again, he never planned to stray far from you outside of the ship. He knew you were capable, more than capable, but he…he wouldn’t be able to handle loosing you again if he was able to get you back.

When he got you back, he argued against the self-depreciating and negative thoughts that were attempting to consume him.

The ship was in hyperspace, a three-day trip ahead of them to make it to the mid rim coordinates of your home world. Neither had been there but knew of the inhabitants being an uneven mix of humans and a reptilian race. Oceans and sprawling fields of tall grass making up most of the environment. It was a moderately size planet, had seen bases for both the Resistance and the Empire in it’s time. Though the more recent had been the former. Most likely spurred on by your suspected return to what you knew in the wake of the Temple’s attack. An event in your life that you had yet to open up completely about, allowing him small glimpses before it became to much to talk about. But it was easy to connect the fall of Mandalore and the fall of your Temple being equally devastating, an attempt to take out entire cultures.

“I…I made a mistake.”

“…how big of a mistake?” Cara didn’t look up from the journal in her hands, not wanting to make the armored man feel cornered. Allowing him the privacy and space to turn away from the question should he want to, feel the need to.

“She fled the ship, to get some space. She must’ve been distracted, too worked up to keep her head up and on alert. It…I’m the reason she was taken.”

“Mando, you know that’s not true.” Cara tried to placate him, knowing he carried a lot of guilt over what had happened, whatever it had been to cause all of this. “She didn’t have her saber?”

“She does- did. She.. they drugged her. Like you said, it’s the only way to take her down.”

“Wait, this looks like Basic. They’re the only characters written differently…”

Din was hovering, making out the words on his own.

“Betrothed.”

He recalled the same words falling from your lips, the reason that prompted you to make an escape. You hadn’t wanted to be someone’s wife, someone’s property. The name was in Basic as well, something you didn’t want to forget lest they come after you themselves. A shadow of your past hovering over you and hidden in the back of your mind as you set out on your own, determined to hide yourself away to prevent anyone from having power over you. Of belonging to someone, anyone ever again.

And yet…you had so readily agreed in his commitment to you, knowing that was the only way Din would be able to share in your affections and wants. Mandalorian religion and culture strictly forbade the removal of one’s helmet unless it was with family, with a spouse, with children of the same clan. To do so outside of those conditions would result in the label of an apostate. Striped of their involvement in the lifestyle and Creed. It was a serious thing you should hold reservations about, with your past.

And while he hadn’t pushed the parameters of it….he had wanted to. For you, for himself, to share himself with you in the way that you had felt safe enough to voice. The realization that you had agreed to such an all-encompassing thing, being with him made him reflect. Why were you willing to do so with him, for him? He was just a bounty hunter, one who had actively sought you out and intended to turn you into the very person who had stolen you away. Sold you like an object to someone for their wants and needs, to fill a space in their life whichever way they commanded it. He had been of the same mind when first encountering you, seeking you out for a trade of currency.

Din was not a good man, though he tried to be for his people. But being a good man to his people, being the sole provider for his covert allowed him to be fast and loose with what it meant to be good in order to do so. What did it matter if the person whose puck he had was truly guilty of the accusations calling for their surrender if it allowed him to delivery credits and supplies to his people? What did it matter if the job warranted for the person he was tracking to be delivered dead or alive and he chose to kill them based on the simple notion of them running and it allowed him to bring a ration of meals to his people?

What had he ever done to deserve someone such as yourself willing to let down your walls and allow him entrance? He had been at internal war, whether or not to turn you in the second you spoke Mando’a to him, healed him, saved him from that second raging Mudhorn even when you had to reason to do so. You easily could’ve let the cut on his arm fester, let the rampaging creature take out his already spent form.

But…it wouldn’t have been easy, he knows now. How you cared for those around you: from friendly vendors to women you seemed to see yourself in, to children who are simply hungry and have no choice but to steal, to ad’ika in bounds and waves, to him. The constant swivel of your head while out in crowds and among people, sousing out threats and people who may be on the lookout for you. The swiftness with which you turn into a fighter when threatened and your freedom is at stake.

The thoughts swirled around and around in Din’s mind as the ship traveled toward your home world. The last known location of your mother and potentially holding clues as to who she struck a deal with. The now dead bounty hunter not having gotten a name, only concerned with the exchange of credits for your capture. No questions, no concerns. The quarry’s capture the only thing that mattered. The man had taken the job and completed it. Had died as a result of it.

Din had been like that too, not that long ago.

Could have easily been the one being imprisoned while someone who cared about a quarry sought answers and revenge. But he was the one realizing how fragile things where, had been since taking two fobs from Karga and altering the very meaning of his life.

Something about the wide, beseeching eyes of the child had activated his heart. Opened it up and made room for the small being to fit into. The uncertainty he had sensed from the child once its eyes had looked into his own, spurring a sense of concern from the armored man over its life well beyond the need to deliver it to the client healthy and alive.

“She asked for something, for a…kiss.”

“But…your helmet.” Cara weakly argued, knowing how strongly he adhered to his Creed. Not even removing it in the face of grave injury and offered aid. Not even removing it in the threat of death.

“I know,” His words were carried on a heavy sigh. He sat heavily in the seat beside her, the hull holding a small set up for longer travels. Ad’ika crawled from her lap and over the table, situating himself in Din’s arms, claws reaching for the helmet to try and sooth the man. “She- she called me ‘jatne vod’ before she fled from the ship.”

The cracking of his voice was not lost through the modulator.

“She must’ve felt so rejected, so unwanted. And I- I just stumbled over my words so badly she ran.”

“She knows you care about her, Din.”

The sound of his name from her lips, so different from when you spoke it, whispered it, breathed it, was too much for him.

“I really messed up, Cara.” He admitted with shaky words.

“We’ll fix it, I’ll help you fix it.”

K’ath was a beautiful planet. All endlessly sprawling ocean, sandy beaches, and small clustered villages.

Simple. Life here was simple. Crops being tended to, the oceans being fished in, no signs of the war other than an abandoned base on the edge of the largest cluster.

Din hadn’t ever wanted to enter the planet’s atmosphere, to step foot on the sandy land. It was a place that held painful memories for you, the crumbling of a life you had been hopeful to return to in the wake of losing everything that ever meant anything to you. A hopeful refuge after a life of hardships, but it had only provided you with more. The stripping of your freedom and the control over your own body.

It was simple enough to find your home, your mother’s home. Asking after the armorer, claiming he was in need of repairs. A Kath woman had been kind enough to try and use her broken Basic to tell them where he could find the store front, but that no one had been tended to it for some time now. That the woman who was known to run it could be approached at her personal residence. That she was kind and could be persuaded to help even though she’d long retired from working.

It was empty, signs of disuse obvious from the outside. Tall reeds of grass sprouting up at the foundation, the windows thick with grime. It was humble, despite the ways in which Din had seen you return from a shop front, a bag heavy with credits in your possession. A skill that you learned from your mother lending you a way to support yourself and indulge in all the things you had to go without for so long.

There was only one transmission on the communication radio set up in the corner that Cara had rushed to once the door had creaked open. Sand was collected in the corners, another sign that no one had occupied the residence for some time now.

“She’s on Maldovan.” Cara shuffled into the bedroom from the main one, aware that the man was focused on something she couldn’t see. He was as still as a statue, peering into the darkness of the doorway in front of him.

The visor allowing him to take in the room you had been held captive in. There was bedding on the ground, no frame for it to sit upon. A chair on the opposite side, close to the door. No windows, no other entrance or exit. A small room that was bathed in darkness lest someone bring a lantern into the room with them.

“I don’t know that planet.” Din admitted, shifting from where he was standing at the doorway of what had been the locked room hidden behind a large wardrobe to look over his shoulder at her. The shifting of it had popped a drawer open, revealing needles and syringes, vials that had been long emptied. All signs that this was truly the home you had been kept in.

“Is that-?”

“Where San was kept locked up, yeah.” He was surging forward, hands reaching for the chains secured to the walls above the bedding and he pulled. Using all the strength he had to rip them from where they were bolted, the wall cracking and splintering as he did so. The heavy chains fell to the floor with a clang, metal that sounded eerily familiar as it collapsed on itself. Kneeling down, Din reached for one of them, the cuff in his hand heavy and he sucked in a breath as he realized why such a simple contraption had been able to hold you: the chains were made of pure beskar.

Far too heavy for your drug addled body to fight against.

Programmed to shock you should you move too much, the sensors lining the inside of the cuffs telling him as much. With a shout he tore the second, lower set of chains from the wall, throwing them across the room in his rage.

The image of you shackled to the wall of this dark room, consumed with thoughts of ending your life kept him on his knees, forced his arms to support him as he crumpled to the ground completely. His modulator crackling with the heavy breaths.

Surging up, he activated bright flames to flow from his vambrace. Intent on tearing down the entire house to the last stud and beam. Cara was quick to retreat back outside, letting the man do what he felt was necessary. She stood behind him as he made his way outside, the structure entirely lit up and beginning to collapse in on itself.

Dark smoke whipped around in the breeze coming off of the nearby shoreline, doing nothing to quell the licking flames. Cara was doing her best to sooth an equally agitated child in the bad slung across her shoulders. Though she knew it would take time for them both to come back from seeing the evidence of your heavy past.

They watched as it turned from burning wood, the outer stone walls crumbling from the heat that had been trapped inside, to a pile of rubble and ash.

He knew it was against the Creed, that it was a sin to leave behind something of his people. But the beskar that had contained you glowed hot amongst the ash, left behind as he walked away from the plot of land and back to the ship.

“The holonet has little information on Maldovan. Citing that it’s a desert planet with white sands, crystalline oceans that bring in a lot of visitors.” Din announced as he exited the control room, the ship constructed of only that and one other room off the hold space. One level, but enough for them to be comfortable traveling. Cara had tried to get Din to retire to the room once they returned to the ship and left K’ath behind, but he had insisted he was fine. Though the door to the cockpit had been closed and locked for hours now, well into the trip since the ship had been jumped into hyperspace.

“And their walled city.” Cara added, as she brought up a hologram of the planet to life from her cuff. She had reached out to Karga, asking him for any aid he had to provide them on the place they were traveling to.

“Yes… and if her mother knows about you then it will be hard to make a plan. Your armor isn’t exactly common and I’m sure she’s told the royal guard to keep an eye out for you.”

“Haran.” He cursed, knowing Cara’s words were true.

Shit.

It was entirely possible, and he wouldn’t put it past the woman he personally knew nothing about, going off of the words of her that you had shared with him. But surely the only city on the planet wouldn’t go out of their way to screen the many tourists that sought out the picturesque world.

Time seemed to be moving slowly and far too fast all at the same time. Thoughts continued to consume Din, all the possibilities of what could occur, what had already occurred making him feel like he was a child once again who knew nothing of the world or how it worked. The ship’s system beeping before it shifted smoothly from traveling through hyperspace and back to sublight settings.

The planet in view was covered in vast expanses of white sand and bright blue. An ocean planet as much as a desert one. It was small, a moon to a larger planet visible in the sky even within the atmosphere as the ship descended. The only city was surrounded by a large wall, protection from the two outcroppings that looked to be a racetrack and the well-established tourist destination on either side.

Maldovan was known as a resort destination, an entire smaller sector off set from the main city. The sector looked to be abundant with hotels, spas, shopping, anything and everything to keep individuals occupied and a steady supply of credits flowing into the local economy.

Cara had suggested she be the one to guide the ship through the planet’s atmosphere, handle the communication with the intake group, and land the smaller ship into the hangar. She suggested he stay behind on the ship while she registered the ship, paying the station fee for several days. And when she returned, there was a frown on her face and a worried furrow to her brow.

The woman was frustrated, that much was obvious. Din merely watched her as she closed the ramp, turning to him and explaining what information she had gathered during the short interaction.

There were two glaringly obvious problems:

Everyone wore light, flowing coverings and outfits in order to gain access into the main part of the city.

And there were wanted posters depicting Din’s armored form.

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dividers: by the lovely @cafekitsune

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aaronhotchswife · 10 months ago

Text

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Warnings : alcohol, smut, loss of virginity This is the last chapter of this serie. I hope you'll enjoy it !

chapter 1

chapter 2

"There are many things in life that will catch your eyes, but only a few will catch your heart. Pursue those. " -Michael Nolan

It’s the first time that we’re all since Christmas. Drew is talking to the boys, telling him about how at his parents. We didn’t talk about what happened that day in his bedroom, I just apologized for acting like that and he told me not to worry. We’re just best friends trying to figure life out.

"If that is not Y/N!"

"Oh my god! Hiiii! How are you?" I asked the guy behind me, rising from my seat to hug him. "Guys, this is Oliver. He was my best friend from elementary to high school."

He smiles at them, his arm around my shoulder. When I ask him what he’s doing here, he tells me that his friends picked this bar to celebrate the New Year.

"Do you want a drink? " Olivier asks, pointing over two stools at the bar. I accept, taking his hand and following him. I see the girls looking at me with smiles and playful looks. I laugh softly, just wanting to have a drink with my childhood best friend. My heart belongs to Drew, but these past few days I just want to think about someone else and clear my mind. I’ve been in love with him for a long time now, always thinking about him and how cute and wonderful he is. From the moment we kissed as our characters for the first time to our fight, I keep loving him. But maybe now it’s time to let myself live at little bit, without him.

Drew’s point of view

I see her at the bar, talking with some guy. She’s sipping her cocktail, admiring him. I think Lacia sees the confusion on my face because she taps on my shoulder and explains to me who he is. He looks handsome and I can’t help but be a little jealous of how she looks at him. Especially when his hand finds its way down her back, murmuring something in her ear. It should be me with her like that, and I can’t help but be mad at myself for how things played out.

***

Y/N’s point of view

I’m outside with Oliver, still talking about what is going on in our lives. My phone rings and when I look at it, I see a text from Madelyn wishing me a happy New Year. I didn’t even realize that it was midnight already.

"Happy New Year Oli! "

"Oh! Happy New Year! I wish you everything you wish for. "

I smile before hugging him. It’s good to see him again after having lost touch after high school. When I break his embrace, his lips find mine, kissing me softly. I smile on his lips, my face finding its way on his chest.

"Don’t get shy on my now, " he laughs.

"I’m sorry, I just didn’t except kissing someone tonight. Listen, I just probably go check on my friends, they must probably wonder where I went. You have my number so text me whenever you want, " I kiss his cheek goodbye before turning around and entering the bar.

Drew’s point of view

I see her coming back to our table, her lipstick a bit smudged. I don’t need more clues to understand what just happened with her and that man. I look at her, my head filled with memories of the feelings never told and at this moment, I realize that I need to be hers. I would crawl home to her if it was what it took for her to want me.

"You had fun with your friend?" I ask.

"I did. Thanks for asking…" she responds.

"Yeah, I can see that. "

She looks at me with an awkward smile, before sitting next to Maddie, who is almost sleeping on the table. She wakes her up, telling her that she’ll drive her home since she just had one drink.

"C’mon Mad. Let’s get you home. Drew, are you coming home too? "

I nod, before saying goodbye to everyone. Y/N drove Maddie home before parking her car at our apartment entrance. When she unlocks the door, she throws her heels away, sighing in relief.

"God, my feet are killing me. " She laughs, making her way to her bedroom, exiting it with her towel and pyjamas. "I’ll go in the shower; do you want to watch an episode of Modern Family after? "

"Of course. But I need to take a shower too before. I feel disgusting, " I chuckle.

***

As we’re sitting on the couch, I look at her, not thinking twice before asking about Oliver. She explains to me that he was her best friend and that they kissed. I can feel the anger and the jealousy inside of me but I try to act as nothing.

"He’s cute but he is not my type. I would not have a relationship with him, if it what you’re asking. "

"Maybe it is, " I say. "Maybe it’s because I want you. "¸

"What? "

"I want you, Y/N. I want everything from you. I want you to be able to see yourself through my eyes and to realize how special you are to me. And tonight, when I saw you with him, I realized that I need you in my life more than a best friend. "

"Drew…"

I suddenly have a feral urge to crash my lips on hers and I can feel she wants the same.

Y/N’s point of view

Drew’s lips are on mine and I can’t explain how it feels at the exact moment. Even if I kissed him for work, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels real. It is real. I can feel him smile against my lips when my hand grabs his hair, giving me a little push to sit on his thighs. One of his hands is on the end of my back and the other one is on my cheek. I can feel his tongue pushing against mine and I let him. He lays me on the couch, his hand caressing my hair.

"Do you want to go in the bedroom? " He asks me, murmuring in my ear. He doesn’t have to ask me twice before my hand is in his and I bring him to my bedroom. He kisses me until my legs are on the side of the bed, making me fall on it. He’s on top of me, and his mouth is on my neck, giving me butterflies.

"I want you, Drew. Please. "

"Asked like that, it would be my pleasure, " he says chuckling.

His hands make their way to the hem of my shirt, pushing it further, asking for permission to undress me. I nod, watching Drew undress both of us. Both of our breathing is shallow when he looks at me. I feel shy, being almost naked in front of me. His hand plays with the hem of my panties, his mouth leaving small kisses on my stomach. When he takes off my underwear, I can se his eyes glistening.

"You are so beautiful. Are you sure you want to do this? "

"Yes, Drew, please. "

He kisses me one last time, his fingers playing with my nipples, making them hard. His hand finds its way to my core, murmuring in your ear how wet I am. His fingers play with my folds, before pushing one finger slowly into me, making my breath stops. The palm of his hand rubs softly against my clit, and it that moment I never felt better.

He parts my thighs and he places my feet on his shoulders before placing himself between my thighs. The tip of his nose brushes delicately on top of my clit and his tongue glides slowly in my folds. The moan I do makes him smile against my core and when he looks at me, his face is all wet from my arousal. But now I want to make him feel good. I sit up, my hand taking his boxer off. My breath gets caught when I see how big he is. I tentatively put my hand around him, making up and down movements and with the way his head falls back, I guess I’m doing good.

"Fuck. " He moaned.

"Can I taste you? "

His eyes sparkled the second I ask him, and he replace himself to be comfortable, while I start leaving some small kisses on his cock. His hands grab my hair in a makeshift ponytail, before guiding my head up and down his cock. He stops me just before he could cum, kissing me softly.

"Are you ready? "

"Put your hands on my shoulders and squeeze if it hurts, and tell me if you need me to stop, okay? " He instructed.

I nod, while Drew slowly pushes the tip of his cock in me. He takes a sharp breath as he pushes into me, feeling my walls clenching around him.

"You’re doing really great baby, want me to move? " He says, his voice hoarse.

I agree and with that, it’s not long before Drew’s sweet sounds in my ear and each stroke of him against that perfect little spot make me grip the headboard.

"You feel so fucking good baby, so tight. "

"Drew. "

Drew’s point of view

"Drew. "

The way she says my name and the breathy moan that spills from her lips are too much, pushing me right to the end. I watch her as her head falls back on the pillow and her back arches, and I swear that I never saw something that perfect in my life. I try to catch my breath, while she does the same. I cuddle her, caressing her hair.

"Hey, I love you. "

She smiles at me, and her smile is literally the cutest thing I have ever seen.

"I love you too Drew. "

taglist : @willowalexissss @maybankslover @prentissesredtanktop @conniebabyy @arinadixin @chenslucy @h34rtsformilli @tiaamberxx

#drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #rafe outer banks #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

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petra-creat0r · 4 months ago

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Deltarune: Fool's Fate - Feather Forest

Alright! Time for the second area, aka the Feather Forest! A forest of pink, feathery trees decorated with ribbons and streamers. Somewhere in the middle of this area, there are some Ssnekmer and Buttonmitt selling healing items. This area is mostly traversed with Broadway after the party split before right before entering. I think this area also holds a familiar easter egg too... Though that's for the NPC section, before we get to the enemies though, here's a riddle.

31. What crawls on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?

The enemies. The only unique enemies to this are are Snazzalotl and Buttonmitt, as Ssnekmer can be found in the Dusty Plains as well. Snazzalotl is a snazzy quetzal, and based on a feather boa. Buttonmitt are snowmen comprised of buttons. Also I mentioned earlier that some Ssnekmer and Buttonmitt can sell you healing in a section towards the middle of the forest, similar to the Bakesale in Chapter 1 of Deltarune proper. Ssnekmer sells you Gummy Snakes, which vary healing depending on party member. and Buttonmitt sells you Button Drops, which also vary healing depending on party member.

32. What does greed always make you want, no matter how much you have?

Now the NPCs. DrumRboys are also found in a few puzzles (same with Pirolette) but can also be found just standing around. They're always seen next to Keysee. Chim-Chime are also multiple and found around, while Bulboid and Puzzle Jones are individual characters. Bulboid is found in one room where one of the trees has been decorated with ribbons, bells, and Christmas lights, and will comment on it. Puzzle Jones can be found near some of the puzzles and will either comment on how tricky the puzzle seems, or how impressed he is that you solved it.

33. You mistake want for me, yet it is not. If someone is me, you find them annoying though they require you. What am I?

DrumRboys and Keysees are little wind-up drumming toys and their wind-up keys, Chim-Chimes are little bells, Bulboid is a box of Christmas decorations, and Puzzle Jones is either a, an old puzzle of Papyrus's, or b, an old trenchcoat and fedora, also belonging to Papyrus. Thus why Puzzle Jones bears striking resemblance to Papyrus from what can be seen under his hat and coat. No one has seen the lower part of his face or the top of his head.

34. I'm not from the future and not from the past. Once the moment is gone, I no longer last. What am I?

And finally the minibosses. SsnekKing is fought near the middle of the area, and is a supergraded Ssnekmer. It's based on ribbons, snakes, and a rat king. To spare it, you have to find the right music genre to charm all three heads with the help of Broadway.

35. Add a T and I am not, backwards I turn to on, E and N you have none and you’ll often find me paired with E, S, and Y. What am I?

FashiRat is fought at the end of the area, pretty much before you go into Choral Chapel. They are a ferret who's made out of old socks and stuff. A very dramatic individual, FashiRat fights you to try to prove to Magician that they should be let into the Upper Choir, and you spare them by calling for an encore of their attacks before applauding them. At the end it's revealed that Magician never had any intention of letting them into the Upper Choir, but still encourages their performances to inspire the rest of the attic world citizens.

36. Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?

Alrighty! Next up is the Choral Chapel characters! I'll post again once I'm done coloring those but in the meantime, have more riddles, Creative Creators!

37. How many times can you subtract the number 5 from 25?

38. Played both in battle and out, I may be small yet I always protect someone bigger. What am I?

39. What can you do freely as a child, but are for judged for as an adult?

40. I’m done by the sheep near the end of the day, yet change only my vowel and I am what the sheep is to the wolf. What am I?

#deltarune #deltarune fan character #Deltarune: Fool's Fate #dr atticworld #dr:ff atticworld #deltarune oc #petra's deltarune take #deltarune au #petra art #fool's fate

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 2 years ago

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Far From My Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It’s summer now, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone. He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy.

Warnings: childhood best friends to ??, fluff and a tad bit of angst, lots of longing, idiots in love, young!javi deserves more love, a tad bit of body insecurity from both ends

A/N: I took inspiration from the absolute masterpiece that is Fleabag and voila I have an idea for a series. The dialogue I used from Phoebe Waller-Bridge is bolded down below.

I don't own photos, or characters. Divider is from the talented @firefly-graphics.

Her hands are tucked between the side of her face and her pillow and Javier knows that it’s going to smell like her tomorrow morning and he also knows that he’s going to be desperate enough to press his face into it. She looks like those statues of sleeping child angels. The soft glow from his nightstand light only adds to the effect.

It’s late at night or early morning. She’s half-asleep but fighting it.

His sheets are tucked around her chest, and she’s wearing one of his shirts because she claims that they’re softer than hers. There’s a soft smile hanging around her mouth like early morning dew on a tree’s leaves. It’s a look on her that tugs at something inside him that’s never been tugged at before, but his mind is too muddled to make much sense of it.

They’ve spent the better part of six hours like this.

Old habits die hard.

She was only supposed to stay for dinner, but then he’d taken her to his room claiming that there was a book of hers still in his shelves, which there had been, but then they’d never managed to make it out after.

They’ve found themselves in much the same position as this for over fifteen years. Her hands tucked between her face and pillow, his underneath the covers and both of them on their sides facing each other.

She always lies down closest to the wall. This evening had been no different. He hadn’t even asked her to stay the night but she had this way of drawing him into doing the things she wanted for her, and all of a sudden Javier had found himself handing over his t-shirt, crawling into bed and shifting awkwardly as she tried to do the same.

Some of his best memories as a child come from moments like these.

The time when she’d confessed her first crush on a boy in their class, the other when he’d done the same for his first crush because it felt easier to tell it to her and not his friends at school.

The many times she’d snuck in a box of cookies and they’d eaten all of them until their stomachs were fit to burst, and they were giggling with all the sugar gone to their head.

Those couple of weeks where Javier had found a series of scary story collections in the library and read them to her out loud, and then held her as close as he could to himself so that she could fall asleep.

Dozens upon dozens of memories stacked on top of each other like printed photos, all bathed in soft yellow light and drowning in that gentle silence the night would take on when everyone in the house had fallen asleep.

Looking at her now, at the warm glow of her eyes and the way her hair spreads on her pillow, he finds himself craving chocolate chips and walnuts. Finds that he wants to hold her hand and doesn’t know how to ask for it without it seeming weird.

He’s been desperate for the press of her skin against his, the soft feel of her breaths fanning over his arm and the way her ribs would rise and fall in time. His body has been starved of her in the past few months where she’d been away from him and at college.

It’s summer now though, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone, listening to the melodic tilt of her voice as she tells him about college and Austin and what happened when she was away from him as if trying to justify her absence. There’ll be popsicles that will end up more on the ground than in their stomachs, and his hand will be sticky with sugar.

He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy.

It’s been two years, two summers and he’s still fooling himself. He’ll blink and they’ll be at the end of August and he’ll be laying on her bed watching her pack her things up again, and biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything stupid, envy gnawing at his heart.

Even as a kid he’d known she’d been destined for bigger things than Laredo. Had seen it in her voice and in the images she painted for him in his bed when he asked her to tell him a story. She could do that really well, and didn’t need to rely on books the way Javier had to to have the same effect.

But even if she is destined for better, bigger, greater, she’s also his friend and Javier loves her in a way he’s not sure he’s able to describe. Which means that he doesn’t like having to see her off twice a year, scared that she’ll never come back and leaving him here all alone, the ghost of her shadow hanging around every corner.

When he goes to pick her up, at Christmas and in April, there’s a clamp twisted around his ribs and it doesn’t go away until he hears the tears at the edge of her voice and feels the way her hands press into his shoulders. Then he can breathe easy because she’s back and the inevitable has been pushed off for another time.

Javier’s drawn back to the present by the flutter of her eyelids, keenly aware that they’re slower coming back up than they were going down. He should let her sleep but he’s suddenly terrified of what’s to come in August and the hour has painted it so that he’s scared that maybe he’s dreaming.

So, he shuffles forward, and the sound opens her eyes. She starts to smile at him again.

If it is a dream, he hopes it lasts a while.

“If you could change anything…in the whole world,” His voice is still gravelly from the way she’d made him laugh this evening until he felt that he couldn’t breathe anymore. “What would it be?”

Her face is always so open for him, so easy to read. He thinks that if he gets close enough to her eyes, he can see the thoughts arise behind them. There’s a dent between her eyebrows that shows when she’s thinking and Javier presses it away with his thumb. He hides his hands away before he can think too much of it.

“My thighs.”

He laughs, “In the whole world?” It’s clear that it’s late and her mind isn’t working the way it should. He was expecting an answer more worldly from her. Eliminate corruption. Free education and healthcare for all.

Still, he likes her answer much more. Likes that she gave it to him plainly and that she didn’t hide behind words and ideas that were too big for the town, and by association, himself. The people of Laredo say she has her head too far up in the clouds, that her imagination hadn’t been reeled in at the right time and that she’s a lost cause now.

College. They say it as if it’s shameful, when it’s all Javier wants.

Sometimes, he’d catch her eye and feel like he’s the only one who ever really knew her.

He knows that she thinks too much and that she feels too much. She does too much of everything for everyone else that she forgets herself sometimes and Javier has to bring her back with a gentle hand for fear of scaring her away irrevocably.

“But don’t tell anyone I said that,” the fleshy little anxious part of her is wide awake now, her mind having mulled it over for too long. She lets out a small nervous laugh that she only half-commits to, abandoning it before it’s completely out.

Javier shakes his head, inches forward that much more. With every breath he takes in, he can smell her, and it’s strong enough that he can’t pretend that he’s making it up.

“You?”

He follows the same line of reasoning as her answer, “I’ve always been insecure about my face.” He thinks about the time she’d been the only one able to find him during hide-and-seek, and how, instead of ratting him out, she’d squeezed herself next to him and held his hand so hard that his fingers hurt. He thinks in turn about how she didn’t leave until the moment he’d felt ready. “You know that.”

Her smile widens, she’s grinning at him now. He can’t take it anymore and reaches for her hand. She gives it to him without a qualm or question and lets him thread their fingers together. “You shouldn’t.”

Looking away from her for a few seconds he wills the red to not rise to his face, “Well, thanks but-”

“I mean it,” she squeezes his hand, her voice warm. “Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with your nose.”

That makes him pause, pushes down the insecurity that was rapidly growing inside him like mould. He looks at her and frowns.

“I mean, there’s nothing wro-”

“Say that again.”

“I mean there’s nothin-”

“What?”

Javier’s just fucking with her now.

“I don’t know…” he narrows his eyes at her in the way that always makes her spill something she’d been hiding from him. The soft corners of her voice turn panicked, “I always say the wrong thing!” He wants to contradict her, but she’s already hiding away from him, face pressed into his chest.

The air gets kicked out of his lungs because of how close she is to him and how she’s staying so close to him. She’d arrived over a week ago but had just come for dinner tonight, at Chucho’s insistence only.

Despite the years they’ve spent together, Javier becomes shy when she first comes back, awkward and fumbling as he tries to pull himself upright long enough so that she doesn’t suspect anything’s changed in their relationship.

Because really, nothing has.

It just takes a while for him to get used to her and the idea that she’s once again a four minute drive away from him.

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbles and he can feel it in his chest. He’s glad she can’t see him now because he’s trying to rapidly blink away his tears.

He’s missed her.

“M’know.”

“I’ve missed you,” pulling away, she looks up at him. The words are offered up like an apology. Javier doesn’t accept it because she can never do wrong to him. For a split second he fears that she’ll go back to her side of his bed and without thinking about it, his free arm curls around her.

“M’know.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle, “Smart-ass.”

He rolls his eyes and his hand seeks out the comforting dips and grooves of her spine.

In a couple of days, he’ll regain his footing and be brave enough to reach underneath her shirt and feel her skin. Right now, it’ll be too intense for him, he has to build up to it. “You meant it? ‘Bout my nose?”

“Yeah,” her gaze falls to it. “There’s nothing wrong with it…Really, I mean it, and not just ‘cause you’re my friend either.” Javier’s just a little scared that she’d managed to read his mind even after they’ve spent months apart.

Javier thinks that the person who first said ‘far from the eye, far from the heart’ had never really loved anyone.

“I don’t-”

“You should…the tip, it’s very…kissable.”

He’s suddenly acutely aware of how close she is to him, and swallows in time with the bob of her throat. She lets go of his hand and he lets her and tries to ignore the caving in of his stomach.

Her head falls beside his on his pillow. She’s just far away enough so that his eyes can focus on her. He tries not to think of her and how she’s thought that his nose is kissable and fails miserably.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

“Will you take me to the movies sometime?”

His forehead wrinkles, “Of course.” There’s a movie theatre just over an hour by car from Laredo that they’ve been going to since he’d learned to drive. Summer was synonymous with cold ice cream and her smile beaming at him in his bed, spending the days fleeing the hot sun and the evenings in the violently AC’d air of the movie theatre. “‘Course I will.” Fear seizes up in his throat, “Why are you askin’?”

She just shrugs, eyes falling to his shirt and staying there.

He presses, anxiety drumming in his blood, “When d’ya wanna go?”

“Oh, I dunno,” she shuffles closer to him on the pillow and Javier has to hold his head just a little further back so he can see her clearly. “Just…sometime.”

The static of the silent night falls around them.

“You know,” at the sound of his voice her eyes meet his and he doesn’t know how to describe the feelings that wash over him. He wishes that she would never look away. “Your thighs are great, you shouldn’t change them.”

Candles light up around her face and she smiles, biting her lip like she always does when she gets shy, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Great?”

He nods and then teases so she won’t hear how serious he is about this, “And I’m not just saying it as your friend either.”

Maybe if they were both well-rested, they could have heard what he’d written in between his lines. They’re not and his insinuation flies over both of their heads.

A giggle bubbles up in her throat and the room grows brighter, even with the sunrise still a few hours away. “You think about my thighs a lot, Javi?”

He sends it right back, “You think about my nose a lot?”

Her lips pout down and she starts to frown at him playfully, “No fair.”

“You think about kissing my nose just as much?”

The amusement falls from her face, and he becomes scared that he’s forgotten how to read her in just four months. They always knew when to push and when to stop, when to be pulled and when to pull. A delicate tug-of-war balance that could only be achieved over years of spending any possible moment they could together.

There’s nothing that scares Javier more than forgetting how to pick up on her cues. He thinks that if it ever did happen, he’d stop living.

Life only had meaning when he knew that she picked at her cuticles when she was anxious, that she leaned onto her right shoulder when she was bored and her left shoulder when she was uncomfortable, and that chamomile tea helps her calm down and that she prefers witty one-liners to elaborate jokes that take years to set up and usually end up being a let-down anyways.

He murmurs her name, hoping that he hasn’t ruined his summer with her with just one question, “I-”

Her lips press lightly to the blunt tip of his nose. It’s as soft as the breath of a baby, fleeting as the flap of a butterfly’s wings, and shorter than a heartbeat. For Javier it feels like being born anew. The ever-present noise in his head goes silent. All he can hear now is the rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths. His meaning is only given to him by her face in front of him.

Awkwardly, like the rusty joints of a car, Javier leans towards her, so close to her that the edges of her face are blurry.

In the same manner as her, he presses an idea of a kiss onto her mouth and pulls back just as quickly, if not faster.

His nose and his mouth are tingling.

She’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before. The rush of emotions that it triggers inside him leads to him kissing her again, long enough that they can both understand what he did the first time, long enough for him to feel how soft her lips are.

She lets out a little sound and Javier comes to himself again. His ears pop and his world grows from just her back to his room around him and the gravity of his actions fall down on him like a boulder.

In a jerky movement he pulls away, his heart hammering against his chest, eyes widening.

Images start to flash across his mind.

He sees her frowning and yelling at him, changing back into her clothes and going back to her house. His stomach drops as he thinks of her leaving his bed eternally, and of the way her smell will fade from his sheets in a couple week’s time. He thinks of what he’s going to do with the rest of his summer and what’s going to happen at the end of it when he won’t be the one driving her to the bus stop and then watching her bus drive away until he can’t see it on the horizon.

He should look away now, so as to make the leaving part easier, but instead he’s selfishly drinking up the last few moments he has with her, before he starts mourning their friendship.

Instead of moving away like he’d been expecting, she inches forward, presses her palms to the sides of his face and runs her thumbs under the tender skin of his eyes. “Come back to me, Javi.”

He doesn’t know how.

“Baby,” her eyes are searching his face and he’s back to her. He’s back in her arms and in his bed. His heart is still pounding but he only knows himself in relation to her so it doesn’t matter.

This time, when he kisses her, she’s already there halfway. Her hands are in his hair and though they’ve been there a thousand times before, it feels new to him. His body sings for her skin against his but he can’t bring himself to do it. His hands remain on her waist, on top of his shirt.

“Did you miss me?” she’s out of breath with her forehead pressed against his. Her breaths are fanning out across his face like the waves of the ocean.

It takes a moment for his mind to straighten itself out, for him to realise what she’s asking of him.

Slowly, he sits up, with her in his arms and his lips against hers. He gives butterflies after hummingbirds of kisses to her and she accepts each one as if they were the first. His stomach twists into itself and untwists. He feels as if his heart has just started to beat after twenty long years.

She’s leaning against his arms and looking up at him breathlessly, her chest labouring to catch her breath.

Javier wants to reply but he also wants to kiss her again and he does. Meandering and lazy as he pushes his tongue into her mouth. She makes no move to rush him, thumbs running across his cheeks, one hand reaching under the collar of his shirt and resting at the place his neck meets his shoulder.

He pulls away and closes his eyes for a brief moment and then opens them again out of fear that she’ll disappear.

“Yeah, I missed you,” he’s breathing harshly as he says her name. The words tumble out before he has a chance to think about them, “All I did was miss you.”

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider leaving feedback, it means the world to me. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next part.

Masterlist here.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x female!reader #javier peña fluff #javier peña angst #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fic #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña imagine #narcos fanfiction #narcos #narcos imagine #narcos fic #pedro pascal

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iamthecomet · 1 year ago

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So hear me out!

As a fandom, we LOVE putting Dew through the wringer. Many ppl write his character as emotionally complicated and fucked up. Little guy had a hard past and does not deal well with feelings nor does he always have healthy coping mechanisms.

We have all seen fics where he deals with his shit through self harm/substance abuse, subspace, anger, age regression, animal regression, disassociation, etc.

And maybe this idea has been written before...but maybe not-

What if instead of all of the other mentioned stuff that he used to do...now that he's older he just finds it easier to go a little feral for a while in order to cope? It's natural ghoul behavior anyway. Like, when stuff starts to builds up and he stresses out badly...he starts to show the signs - he gets bitchy, distant... but now, instead of falling into a deep depression or setting shit on fire he reverts to full mindless feral pit beast?

He wanders off naked, into the woods for a few days. He eats deer and birds and bugs and stuff, crawls around in the dirt for a while until it blows over and he feels better.

And at first, everyone's kind of like "Oh shit, Dew's gone feral!" But then they realize that it's actually better than him doing all of that self/property/relationship destructive stuff or actually hurting a sibling, so they just kind of let him go and do his thing? Because they know that it will run its course and he'll come back after a week or two.

Maybe the clergy sends out an abbey-wide email announcing that there's a" feral ghoul in forest B so stay out of there for a while until it leaves the vicinity". And they put up some warning signs so people don't go out on those trails or near where he's been spotted. Kind of like how they do it in Yellowstone park or something when there's a bear or a cougar spotted near a trail so people stay off of the trail.

Anyway, that's my thought!

Gremlin

#goneferal #feralasacopingmechanism

I am so into this! It's so much easier to just walk away sometimes. To just let all the shit he's been bottling up loose in his true form. Just letting go. Slipping free of humanity in order to get his head on straight again.

It happens a few times a year, before and after tours when he's the most stressed out. I like to think sometimes others join him. Mountain will slip into his true form and just sort of hang out with him at a safe distance if Dew will tolerate it. Sometimes Aether too. They check on him, mostly just making sure he hasn't hurt himself, or wandered too close to a town or anything. But mostly he's left alone, to his own devices, to work it out on his own.

Sometimes they'll get caught up in it with him. It feels good to let go. And yeah, Siblings definitely get periodic email updates. Stay away from the eastern swamps. Don't go into the southern pine grove.

He absolutely comes back covered in dirt and scratches, hair greasy. Eyes dull and exhausted. And docile. He lets himself be ushered into a bath. He's pliable, longing for attention, his voice soft and quiet from disuse.

He stays in his room for a few days after, sleeping it off, picking at the food the others bring him. But once the exhaustion is gone he's back to his normal self again. The whole thing is a little stressful for everyone, but far less stressful than when he used to throw tantrums in the abbey, so no one is about to ask him to stop.

#comet comments #dewdrop ghoul #headcanons #gremlin

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holylulusworld · 2 years ago

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Before you - Alternative Ending

Summary: King Steven Grant Rogers once was a good king and a gentle alpha. Now he’s a cruel shadow of his former self. Can he find the light again?

Pairing: King(Alpha)!Steve Rogers x Maid(Omega)!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Maid(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, fluff, implied claiming, implied characters death, polyamory

A/N: This is the alternative ending you asked about… Please consider that this chapter will partially be the same as the other endings. But I changed a few scenes to match the ending.

Before you masterlist

<< Part 18

<< Steve’s ending

<< Bucky’s ending

The day Sharon and Rumlow died you hid in Steve’s chamber.

You crawled under the bed and didn’t make a sound. It had to be done.

Sharon and Rumlow did horrid things. They are responsible for your family’s death, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch them die.

You’re just not like this.

The king had to watch. Just like his brother.

It was their duty. The people expected them to watch Sharon and Rumlow die.

The executioner ended their lives fast. It was your wish. You didn’t want him to hurt them even more.

Steve respected your wish and told the executioner to use a sharp axe.

“Off with their heads,” the crowd cheered as you lay still under the bed, hands pressed to your ears to fade out the voices. You curled into a ball, waiting for their end.

You heard a scream. Applause. And then silence.

“My love, how are you today?” Steve walks next to you. It’s been a while since you had the time to leave the castle and just take a walk in the gardens. “I know the last months were stressful.”

“I like the dress very much,” you whisper. “Do you think your mom would want me to wear it? I’m not sure. Your father didn’t want me to become your mate.”

“She would have loved you, Y/N,” the king softly says. “I wish you could wear your mother’s dress. I know how important traditions are to an omega.”

In your grasp, you squeeze Steve's hand tightly, "It got lost along with so many things from my past. "But I will gladly wear your mother’s dress.”

“What if you had a new dress?” he stops walking to look at you. “A new beginning for both of us. I know someone who makes the most beautiful dresses.”

“Steve, my king,” you bite your tongue. Can you ask him for a new dress? Can you reject the offer to wear his mother’s wedding gown?

"It's settled now," Steve whispers softly. “I will call for her. She will make you the most beautiful gown you ever saw. I want you to tell her what you want, my love.”

Two months later, …

“How are you, my lady?” the maid asks as you look at yourself in the mirror again. A woman you don’t recognize looks back at you. You’re wearing a dress that isn’t yours and feel like an imposter. “My lady?”

“How are you, my lady?” the maid asks as you look at yourself in the mirror again. A woman you don’t recognize looks back at you. She smiles, and her eyes shine. “My lady?”

“I’m just…I don’t know,” you press your hands to your warm cheeks. “Do you think the king will like the dress?”

“He will love it, my lady,” she says, but you are too nervous to believe her. “You are a beautiful bride.”

You look in the mirror one last time to admire the gown again. It is made of rich fabric in a white and gold pattern, and the upper waistline is tied with a matching golden sash. The dramatically long angel sleeves are lined with gold satin.

“He will love it, Y/N,” you gasp as Bucky steps into the room. He smiles when you twirl around to grasp his hands. “You look beautiful.”

Bucky fights the urge to just tell you how beautiful and precious you are to him. He came here to decide what to do about his feelings.

It’s all or nothing now.

Bucky sends the maid away, aware he only has minutes to confess his feelings. He takes a deep breath when the door closes behind the maid.

“Is something wrong, Bucky?” you place your hands on his chest, glancing at them. It feels right. Like your hands belonged there all along.

You look up at the alpha, remembering every moment since you met Bucky for the first time. You smile as he was always around. Bucky was there before anyone even noticed you.

He was there to protect you. Always. Unconditionally. A true knight in shiny armor. Even if the armor only consists of his artificial arm and a pair of soft blue eyes.

“Bucky…”

“Please. Hear me out. Don’t marry him,” Bucky takes you by surprise. It seems like he read your mind. Although you love Steve, your heart pounds so fiercely for Bucky that it is undeniable. “I love you and can’t watch you marry my brother. From the first moment I laid eyes on you, my heart was yours.”

“B-bucky,” you whimper. “I love Grant…I mean Steve. I…I’m so confused. You are so wonderful, and I feel safe and warm with you but…”

“You love him…not me,” Bucky chokes out. “I shouldn’t have said a thing. I’m sorry, Y/N. Please forget what I said.”

“Bucky,” you tear up. “Alpha...I love you too,” you whimper when he takes you into his arms. You immediately bury your face in his chest to inhale his calming scent. “I don’t know what to do. I love you, and I love him. How can this be?”

“I don’t know,” he presses soft kisses on your forehead. “All I know is that you are my omega as much as you are Steve’s omega.”

“What—?” Steve gasps when he sees you in his brother’s arms. “Bucky, what are you doing here? Take your hands off my bride. How can you betray me like this?”

“Please…Grant…it’s my fault,” you start crying bitterly. “I’m so confused and…” you shake your head. “Maybe I’m evil. I enchanted both of you and now you are angry at each other. I should leave and never come back. You deserve a better queen and omega…both of you do.”

“My love,” Steve steps toward you and Bucky. He holds out his hand, waiting for you to choose him. “You are the only queen I want. I won’t give up on you. Please choose me.”

“Please choose me,” Bucky whispers. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “I can’t let you go.”

“I-I can’t choose,” you cry even harder when Steve wraps his hand around your arm to get you away from his brother. “Please don’t make me choose. I would rather leave and never see one of you again than tear you apart. I can’t watch one of you be sad.”

“Steve,” Bucky lifts his head to look at his brother. “I can’t watch her cry…”

“You were always kind to her,” Steve drops his gaze in shame. “I was awful to her. You and Y/N deserve to find happiness…together. I don’t deserve her.”

“Brother…”

Bucky steps away from you, shaking his head. “I can’t break your heart to find my happiness. I can’t hurt Y/N either. She loves you.”

You tear up as you stand between the brothers. Your alphas. “I love you both,” you whimper. “Please…I don’t know what to do.”

“We’re a pack,” Steve clears his throat, “and I’m the king. If I say that we will share our omega, no one will dare to disagree with me.”

“Share me,” you look at Steve, eyes wide and glassy. You whimper in need when the brothers step closer to you again. To you, their mixed scents smell like heaven. “But…what will people say?”

“That we love each other,” the king says, “and that you are our omega as much as we are your alphas. If you want us, say the words.” Steve takes another step toward you to take your right hand. “Please.”

"Say it, Y/N," Bucky asks, taking your left hand. “Please don’t leave us.”

“My alphas,” you purr low in your throat. “I want to be yours, Bucky.” You smile at Bucky. “And I want to be yours, Steve.” You turn your head to look at Steve.

“Our omega,” the brothers purr your name, and everything seems to fall into place.

You did not only become Steve’s queen but also Bucky’s light. The king announced that you are a pack, and therefore you are going to marry both brothers.

Steve and Bucky didn’t waste another day. You married them right after your love confessions. And that night, you became more than their queen.

The brothers claimed you and insisted on wearing your mark too. No one will dare to get between you and your alphas ever again.

“A pack, huh?” Natasha watches Stephen Strange walk next to her. “What brings you here? I thought you prefer isolation and silence.”

“I do,” Strange dips his head to glance at Natasha. “Maybe I came back because I found something I liked here.”

“I hope it’s not the king’s omega,” she chuckles darkly. “She already has her hands full with two alphas.”

“I set my eyes on someone even more beautiful,” he smiles at Natasha with a looped grin. “I heard you wanted to learn about my profession. I’d like to share all of my secrets with you...”

THE END

Tags in reblog.

#Before you - Alternative Ending #bucky barnes #steve rogers #king!steve rogers x peasant reader #a/b/o #medieval au #Steve x Reader x Bucky #bucky x reader x steve #polygamy

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estro-gem · 1 year ago

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Ragatha x Pomni (Platonic): Charting the Landscape

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note:

I'm not dead! I'm sorry for not posting as much; life has me in a chokehold and you all know how things can get this time of the year.

Excuses, excuses, right?

This is exposition of the 'Oasis Lore.' Although this is an event in which Pomni and Ragatha tries to figure each other out, this is centered around Pomni's slow start to working her way into fitting into the Oasis. These two are having 'the talk,' as it's loosely mentioned by Jax in the story 'Anywhere the wind blows.'

Unfortunately, this is not really a ship-fic, but there are more of those coming in the future, though!

I don't think this one will do so well, but eh, I'll keep writing regardless...

I'm keen to bring in some more angst into this AU. Things are too happy in these works for my liking. I want to go into just how messed up Oasis can be, since it's a very unhealthy system they've got going on.

Warnings: Nothing too serious.

Little angst and very little fluff (like, a literal speck)

Frustration (For the characters involved, as well as you poor readers)

Unhealthy coping mechanisms

SUMMARY:

After Pomni had a strange encounter with Kinger, she was struck with the need to work about developing her status to something more positive among the other Circus members. She decides to start by approaching Ragatha, who ends up giving her the friendliest reality-check she could ask for. Pomni was in more trouble than she thought.

CHARTING THE LANDSCAPE

Pushing on.

That was what drove the jester this far.

That was the only thing that she was certain of. It didn’t matter that she didn’t see what the future held or what size and difficulty the obstacle was. It didn’t matter how impossible it seemed and it didn't matter how far she was forced to push herself.

She was a wreck, but she was just as stubborn.

The past few weeks have been tough. Her first day in the Digital Circus was apparently one of the worst that Kinger had ever witnessed for a newcomer to brave through. Her effort to push her mind through Caine’s demented joke of an exit – an unfinished, never-ending maze of a project (as his unfinished work usually was), was ‘admirable,’ as the chess piece called it.

He said she reminded him of his younger self.

Kinger glanced at Pomni to briefly meet her eyes, as if he was checking that she was still paying attention, before falling into a trans-like state. Disappointment tugged at her thoughts upon the realization that the most comforting moment that the little jester had had since she got damned to this digital plain, slipped away with the mere echo of the King’s words. When he suddenly jolted into animation again, she saw the sobriety reigned back and her heart lifted at the chess piece’s effort to force away the fog from his mind.

The fool witnessed the tug of war in Kinger's eyes; the clouded haze of nothingness as empty as death was straining to smother the powerful, but saddened twinkle of clarity. Despite the struggle, he spoke with ease – saying that the digital circus was not a fate to be faced by one alone, but instead, to be experienced by many in collaboration.

“You need to share you use.” He said, blinking rapidly as if looking through fog, “If you share, you are safe. If you are selfish, you will be left-”

Silence.

The king piece was frozen in place and his eyes fogged over. Whatever he was trying to say, died with the ember of hope that the girl had built up for his encouragement. He was gone.

Sudden hysterical laughter ripped the little’s fool’s thoughts from her head as she jumped in fright. After catching her breath, Pomni spotted Jax crawling on the floor as he wheezed with laughter, while she heard Ragatha’s bright voice chime in with near-manic cackles. She had half the mind to pursue the curiosity of knowing the context of their situation, but Kinger’s words haunted her mind.

Pomni was still starstruck by the white king’s clear, sober words. She didn’t think to interrupt him or break the apparent spell that was befell upon the one she first thought of, as the group’s loon. At the time, she was silent and eager to just listen to Kinger’s praise, but ever since she had some time to digest his words, they brought an icy sting of fear with their implication.

If she was like him, did that mean that they shared the same fate?

On that day, from then on, Kinger was the epitome of the loon she that grown to recognize, ever since she was casted into The Amazing Digital Circus. Despite her hopes of having another special moment with the King, she was only met with vague commentary and silly ramblings.

At least it was nothing she wasn’t familiar with.

'You need to share your use.'

Kinger said she had use… and that she needed to share it. Pomni didn’t know what use she had, but that wasn’t the part that she was concerned about. Sharing would imply that she had to have someone that would be willing to accept something from her. While Pomni wasn’t familiar with her new prison, she was far from stupid. Stubborn, yes, but not stupid.

She knew that she had no one.

The unfortunate aftermath of her first day and her decisions she made at the time, labelled her as a reckless, cowardly renegade. No loyalty. No sense of dignity.

Selfish.

Something Kinger warned her against.

Although it was never spoken aloud, Pomni was made aware that she was cast aside. She ran for an exit instead of helping a possible friend. She was ignored by Jax for a reason unknown to her. She was avoided by Zooble for making their partner uncomfortable. She was estranged by Gangle for being too eager – too interested – in the beauty that was the strange, sentient ribbon. She was abandoned by Kinger’s unreliable state of sanity.

She left Ragatha for dead.

And yet...

The ragdoll was Pomni’s only chance. If she was going to get her foot in the door, she was going to have to do everything in her power to get through to that doll. Ragatha was the only one who spared her a glance, aside from Kinger. She even stood aside the jester after she was abandoned by Pomni. It was a clear as day that Ragatha was either crazy, or too good for this world… and the fool was going to bet on the latter. It had to be the latter.

The doll was kind, sweet and reassuring. She constantly provided the little fool with a calm, cool image that Pomni couldn’t help but mirror; like the doll was a surface of a still pool in the dry earth. Ragatha acted like a human. Ragatha also looked mostly like a human. It was something the jester clung to on her first day – someone was still human in the digital world.

After the events of this previous day, she counted Kinger as a weird technicality.

Presently, Pomni was slowly creeping towards a lone, plush couch in the main area with a doll seated comfortably onto it. She was engrossed in the needle and thread piercing though the blue fabric that matched the colour of her dress. From what Pomni could tell, Ragatha was working on something smaller and finer than an article of clothing, but the jester didn’t bother to focus on it too much.

How was she going to start this conversation?

“Hi, it’s me again! You know, the girl who ditched you at the first sight of an amalgamation, came back to give you false hope, then ditched you again, when I saw the first thing resembling an exit. Wanna be friends?”

No, that wasn’t going to cut it.

Pomni didn’t have much to offer aside from her will to make this work, but if that was what she had, she would use it. She wouldn’t make it through another day alone – she wouldn’t! She wasn’t driven to insanity just yet; and be as it may – this digital realm would have to swallow her whole as she fought, thrashed, clawed, and screeched all the way down in her decent.

Pushing. On.

“Oh, hello Pomni!” Ragatha’s voice seeped through her mind from very close by.

That was sudden…

“Hey! Um- what are you making there?” Pomni stumbled through her words. She silently cursed herself for dissociating to the point where she forgot that she was approaching the doll with purpose.

“This?” Ragatha made a lack-luster attempt to gesture to the blue cloth on her lap, “I was just making a little dress for the ragdoll I made. I always find it so awkward to make these tiny clothes. There’s not much room to work with!”

The jester fixed her eyes on the sowing project, using it as an excuse to only glance in attempt to meet the doll’s eyes every now and again. She saw Ragatha scoot herself against one side of the couch before patting the space beside her in invitation for Pomni to take a seat. The ragdoll looked unbothered by her presence, but Pomni didn’t trust the performance.

Gangle wasn’t the only one in the Circus who wore a mask – the ribbon’s mask just happened to be physical.

“I saw you chatting with Kinger the other day.” The doll spoke again, nonchalantly, “Interesting choice in friends you have! But who am I to judge? I’d like to think I’m friends with everyone here, but between you and me, I’m pretty sure that we are all one minor inconvenience away from losing it. Power to Kinger for holding out for so long!”

The gentle easiness of Ragatha’s chatter, while undeniably comforting, felt… well… off – in a sense. It was senseless chatter, but hardly babbling, like small talk. Very well done and maintained by the Ragdoll, who was idly sowing the little dress skirt to the waist of the dress top.

But Pomni realized that that was just it.

The Ragdoll’s words felt like they were rehearsed… and Pomni was just part of a play that she wasn’t aware of. It wouldn’t make sense for Ragatha to be acting so unbothered and calm unless this was staged or practiced. While Pomni wanted to melt into the seemingly normal conversation that Ragatha was trying to coax her into, a deep, primal instinct was screaming for her to remain wary.

She wished for it to just quiet down for once.

“He’s quite the character.” Pomni said with a nervous cackle, to which the doll seemed to beam at. Taking it as a chance to keep the conversation alive, Pomni opted to find answers, “He was acting weird on that day.” That was too vague, Kinger always acted weird, “But like, weirder than normal. But not because he was weirder than normal – it was because he was acting normal.” What was she even saying…? “Well, I mean… normal for Kinger’s standard, which is weird because that is not normal. For him.” She wasn’t making sense! “I MEAN-”

“Whoa! Whoa, easy girl!” Ragatha flagged Pomni down with a easy chuckle, “I understand what you are saying, don’t worry.”

The jester felt the burn of desire to explain herself in the back of her throat, but obliged to the doll’s clear attempt to quiet her down. Instead, she reluctantly awaited Ragatha’s response.

“It sounds like you were describing one of his little ‘resets’ as we like to call them.” The doll explained, calmly and inviting as ever, “It’s like a moment of clarity that he gets occasionally. You’re lucky to have been there for it!”

Pomni decided to let her self-explanation die in her throat, even though she still felt the urge to do so. The doll’s description was good enough for Pomni to push on, “So he’s not completely insane?”

“What? No! None of us are – I think…” Ragatha reassured, while admittedly fading off into her own thoughts as she ended her sentence.

Pomni would think about those things later.

“So… what he told me wasn’t just crazy rambling, then?” she hesitantly asked, looking up to the doll with a fixed gaze for the first time since their encounter had started.

“Likely not!” Ragatha almost cheered, before glancing around and leaning closer to whisper to Pomni, “What exactly did he say?”

The jester paused, wondering what to do and what she could share. From how Ragatha was acting, the things Kinger shared during his ‘resets’ wasn’t something spoken about so casually. If Pomni had an advantaged by knowing something that no one else did, wouldn’t that mean that she had the upper hand in this scenario?

“Come on, Pomni!” Ragatha asked, leaning in even closer, now seeming eager as ever to hear what had the little fool so hesitant to speak, “What did he say?”

Kinger’s warning of selfishness rang in her mind again, causing the ideology of lying to appear less attractive than it was before, but stubbornly, the jester settled on a half-truth instead, “He just told me that I basically need friends.” She laughed in a bitter tone, “A bit of a slap in the face, but I guess he’s right in a sense.”

“Oh!” Ragatha, leaned back to resume her position as she huffed a little laugh, “Well, having friends is healthy! And lucky for you, we are not going anywhere, so you can take your time when warming up to us. No rush – we’ve all been where you are now.”

“That’s a bit hard to believe.” Pomni sighed, causing the doll to look at her in pity as she continued, “You all seem so… happy? No. Adjusted? Everyone is just doing their own thing and minding their own business like it’s nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say that we 'keep to ourselves' and 'mind our own business' as much as you think.” Ragatha spoke, taking the calm and cool, but hardly uninviting demeanor, “We are actually all up in each other’s business. We look out for each other…”

“You call Jax being the spawn of Satan to everyone around him, as him just ‘looking out for you?’ I don’t think that’s a ‘healthy’ relationship, Ragatha.”

“Oh, Jax shows that he cares in his own special little ways.” Ragatha dismissed too easily for Pomni’s liking, “It’s when he ignores you, that you should be worried. It usually means that he couldn’t care less – that he considers you… well… for a lack of a better way to say this; he maybe considers you… kind of… a bit of a, um, waste of his time…?”

Pomni allowed the poor attempt of the doll trying to soften the delivery of the news, to sink in. She reflected on the fact that Jax barely spared her a glance and even acted like she didn’t exist at times. As much as she despised the person that he chose to be towards his fellow Circus-members, it disturbed her just how much he was avoiding her, while he practically tormented the others. If his sick pranks, harmful jokes, and twisted taunting really was more than him just satiating some sadistic fantasy… and if what Ragatha said about him ignoring someone held any form of truth…

Then Ragatha’s words were a warning.

Ice clawed its way up Pomni’s spine. She wasn’t ready to consider that she was already a lost cause – deserted by everyone and only humored by the ragdoll out of common curtesy or pity. Logical reason cried out for the little fool to remember that Jax was still a bad person and that it may be a blessing not to be involved with someone as harmful as he was, but the fact that he looked right through her, while deliberately being a menace to everyone else, had the jester beginning to believe that there was a method to Jax’s madness after all.

The others had been trapped in the Digital Circus for years. Years. If he was really that bad of a person, would the others have made it this far? Clearly there was something that she was missing. Clearly there was something bigger than the bunny being a borderline sadist and the ragdoll being an unconditional saint.

If only she could figure out what it was.

“You drift into your own head a lot.” Ragatha commented with no real thought behind her words, “I can tell that by now. You go quiet when you start thinking. I suggest for you to be careful though – thinking too much is dangerous here.”

“Oh, uh, noted!” Pomni smiled sheepishly, “Thanks, I guess.”

“It’s nothing, maybe I spoke too soon, right?” the doll huffed brightly, “Maybe you are like Gangle… I swear that girl hosts entire conferences in her head. She might be the only one I know of, that’s able to do that without losing it. Trust me, I would know! I’ve been here long enough, second to Kinger, of course.”

Pomni struggled to keep up with the load of information that was being poured onto her.

Jax was a menace, but apparently there was a good reason for it, and he only acted that way with those he regarded. Pomni was being shunned by him, evident by the fact that he ignored her. Kinger was here the longest, followed by Ragatha. Pomni should refrain from thinking too much. Gangle was known for being the thinker or the group.

Her gut was screaming at her mind: everything said, was important – even if she didn’t know why.

But things needed to slow down.

“Gangle is the thinker, huh?” Pomni jumped in before Ragatha could speak again, “So that means she isn’t avoiding me too, right? At least there’s that-”

Ragatha cut her short, although it didn’t seem to be malicious, “What makes you think Gangle is avoiding you?”

“Oh! The other day, she came to talk to me… but things got weird – I made things weird.” Pomni nervously fidgeted as she briefly weighed her limited options to embarrass herself or leave the statement as it was.

She decided on the former, as embarrassment is a small price to pay for survival, “I think I came on too strong? We’re all human, but our bodies are not. She looks so weird, but strangely… I think she’s beautiful. I tried to tell her that, but she backed away very quickly. Her excuse was something about checking in on Zooble and Jax. She’s been walking wide circles to avoid me ever since…”

Pomni looked over to the doll with the intention of seeing just how much she made her cringe with second-hand embarrassment, but she was surprised to find something different.

Something unsettling.

Ragatha was staring ahead with an unfocused expression. Her face was struck with something akin to dread... and although she didn’t have a human body, she appeared as pale and a sheet. Pomni had half the mind to ask if the ragdoll had seen a ghost, but Ragatha’s slow movement to turn her head towards the jester, caused the words to die in her throat.

“Gangle and Zooble are romantically involved.” Ragatha said, any previous cheer from her voice vaporized to nothing but cut-throat, blunt indifference. From what the jester could tell, the doll was done playing coy and dancing around the elephant in the room.

No more games.

“I figured that one out after Jax’s comments about being grossed out by them making out in public.” Pomni shrugged, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Ragatha refused to deflate, “He was making it clear for you to back off. You- y- you’re in a worse position than I thought, Pomni. No wonder Kinger took pity on you…”

“What do you mean? What are you saying?”

Ragatha finally tore her gaze away from Pomni with a huffed sigh, looking as stressed as she was on the day of Pomni’s arrival, “You need to get your foot in the door. If you don’t get you act together, it will only be a matter of time before they refuse to let me talk to you. Heaven knows how protective they can be at times-”

“Ragatha, I don’t know what you are trying to tell me. Who’re ‘they?’ Why do ‘they’ force you to do anything you don’t want to do?” Pomni asked as confused as she was becoming frantic.

“Pomni, listen. Focus. This is important, okay?” Ragatha turned her whole body to face Pomni, reaching out to rest her hands onto the little fool’s shoulders, only to pull away upon seeing a very familiar look of discomfort in anticipation to the doll’s touch – something she recognized in Jax.

That was something to unpack later.

“Pomni, you have Jax AND Gangle against you now. And you are well on your way to having Zooble reject you too. Do you understand that?”

Pomni nodded, hesitant, but silent.

“If it was just Jax, you could’ve had Gangle to get through to him, but now Gangle is avoiding you too, only leaving Zooble open – and that’s a very generous statement, considering that you were practically flirting with their partner.

“If you can get to Zooble, you’ll get to Gangle. Don’t worry about Jax for now, I’ll handle him. You need to win Zooble over. This is the only way you can win Gangle over. If Gangle shuns you, you are done for. Do you understand?”

Pomni’s head was spinning, but she got the gist of it down.

For some reason, it was important to be in Gangle’s good books. Apparently, the only way to do that, was to befriend the abomination she came to know as Zooble, Gangle’s partner. It made sense that someone would choose to get along with your partner’s friends rather than to resent them, but what didn’t make sense was why it was so important.

And what was that about being shunned?

“Listen, I get it – the ‘getting along with Zooble’ thing, but honestly, what does it matter? There’s people who doesn’t like me and that’s all there is to it, isn’t it?” Pomni desperately pried.

“Not here it’s not.” Ragatha shut her down, “Things are different around here… and here we all need each other. Especially when it comes to Gangle and the role she plays; the roles we all need to play to survive here. I can’t explain everything now, but please… do whatever you have to do to befriend Zooble. It’s the only chance you have for you to be accepted.”

“Fine, I’ll do it! Just calm down!” Pomni exclaimed as she was disturbed, “I don’t get it, but if this cult-thing will make things easier, then so be it. I’ll get Zooble to like me or whatever.”

Ragatha looked defeated as she flopped back to rest her back to the couch, “I know it hard to understand it now, but you will in time. Just focus on Zooble for now.”

“Ok! Ok! I got it, ok?”

Finally… silence…

There was a moment of silence for Pomni to digest the whole encounter. She didn’t understand what she was getting herself into, but she would just play along for the time being. It wasn’t until now that the jester realized how much she craved to have a normal conversation, an argument… hell, she craved to just be mad for a reason other than for things she couldn’t control.

While it was cathartic to engage in the encounter with Ragatha, she couldn’t help but feel hopeless and frustrated with her lack of understanding.

The doll’s voice was soft as it beckoned for Pomni’s attention yet again.

“About Zooble... They like fashion and abstract art. They also prefer to be alone most of the time, so try to catch them when they venture out to start a conversation with someone like me or Kinger. That way, you won’t be a bother.”

Pomni listened keenly as Ragatha continued to give her pointers, “Try to keep anything about you and your thoughts or feelings under wraps to maintain that factor of mystery. Believe it or not, everyone here is still very curious about you, even if they don’t show it – they are just trying to protect themselves from getting involved with someone who might cause them harm. Trust me, you are the talk of the town – use that. Not even Zooble is immune to gossip, as aloof and unbothered as they might seem.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” the jester affirmed.

Pomni slowly stood from her seat and stretched briefly, “Thank you. You actually… might have helped me a lot.”

“Honey, as it stands, you need all the help you can get.” Ragatha quipped without missing a beat. It earned a little chuckle from the fool.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for the reminder.”

Pomni missed the little, tired smile that crept up the ragdoll’s face as she turned away. Pomni wanted to walk around outside. She wanted to clear her head and regain her strength before she braved an encounter with the Zolo-being. Just before Pomni could walk a few steps too far, she stopped in thought, turning around to face the doll once again.

“Hey Ragatha, why exactly are you helping me? Even after everything I put you through?”

“Don’t sweat it, New Stuff.” Ragatha scoffed with no real bite.

Pomni felt a real smile creep its way up her face for the first time since she was trapped in the Circus, “You really are too good for this place... you know that, right?”

Looking over to the doll once again, Pomni saw Ragatha’s face sporting an unreadable expression. It was almost as devoid of emotion and robotic as her voice was, when she spoke words with far too much weight for Pomni’s liking;

“I just do what I have to do.”

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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ntzsche9 · 1 year ago

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So, hi! I'm Verne (they/them), practically a queer elder in my 30s, brand new to tumblr (dunno how I ever missed the boat), and I only ever seem to write in the 20 minutes or so between pulling up to work and clocking in, or when I'm putting my toddlers down for a nap but don't want to crawl out of their beds and address the chores I gotta do while they're out of the way. I've written poetry, prose, and roleplayed in the past but got away from it for years and years, and only recently started writing again. I have notebooks and lists of story ideas but the few things I have fleshed out are mostly silly character-based "what if?" scenarios, because those are the most fun to me. Too many of my stories are me simply wanting to write a scene, developing a bit of a world around it, then losing interest entirely. I hope this blog can change that a bit, help me focus on following through or figuring out how to better develop small ideas into something longer.

Interests:

Post-apocalyptic

Near-future dystopias

Scifi/Fantasy (urban) with magical realism

History/AltHistory (especially lesser-known and marginalized stories)

Horror, dark, violent, and mature themes

Queer everything. I can't write heteros to save my life and I'm not all that sorry about it.

Sexy melodrama and smut with too much plot

Fanfiction (I could read/write Fallout stuff all day)

Some Favorite Authors:

Octavia Butler

Nnedi Okorafor

VE Schwab

Starhawk

Madeline Miller

Ta-nehisi Coates

Becky Chambers

Emma Donoghue

Looking for:

Community, inspiration, other writers to follow, and problem-solving tips in storytelling and sticking to stories when things get tough. I really just need some folks to talk to when working through all the things in my head. Open to the occasional tag but I'm not great at responding.

I have plenty more little bits of nonsense in various states of readability, like character backgrounds, alt-ending scenes, slice-of-life banter between characters, etc. These will be posted under the tag #ntzsche misc

Noteworthy WIPs:

Bad Blood - A Fallout Nuka-World fanfic (#ntzsche Nuka-World)

My longest story is a fanfic, but with a cast of characters largely not in the Fallout 4 DLC. I intend to eventually write this in a way that someone who hasn't played the game would be able to easily read.

Lafayette, the son of a 'retired' raider, left his abusive father to find his place in the world and was taken in by an eclectic trauma-bonded found family that inspires him to be a better person and shows him love he is certain he doesn't deserve. When his father comes across them in a raid, Lafayette is given the offer to join him, and he agrees in order to save the settlement and his little brother. Lafayette finds that being with his dad again, and being the son he always wanted him to be, isn't nearly as difficult as he thought it would be. He struggles to maintain the person he wants to be with the person he suspects he is, all while a cast of scheming raiders, wastelanders, and slaves vie for power in the raider city built within the rusted remains of an amusement park.

Salem's Child (#ntzsche Salem)

A background on one of the lesser Nuka-World characters that I got carried away with.

Andrew Rook doesn't look like his parents. He looks like someone they are desperate to forget. Growing up in post-apocalyptic Salem, Massachusetts has it's perks, though. In a fading settlement run by incompetent men who would rather blame the population of feral black cats for their problems than try to solve them, Andrew and his two best friends build a world in their imagination that shields them from the wretchedness of the wasteland and the people they have to rely on to survive.

Hechizo

Another character background that I would love to expand into a few short stories around.

Mateo Zavala was born in the vibrant and tight-knit community of Navarro. His great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, a pre-war ghoul, is still the ruling matriarch, and it's hard for her not to play favorites when she has over 300 living descendants.

The Crash (#ntzsche Crash)

A what-if real-world rewrite of an event from another story. I just really enjoy writing these two.

Gabe always knew his functional alcoholic roomie would get into a terrible car wreck some day, but he never thought he would be dumb enough to be in the car with him. When the consequences of the wreck threaten to destroy Dave's life, Gabe finds himself doing everything he can to hold those pieces together. The love he harbors for his straight, polyamorous best friend runs deeper than either of them are ready to face, and find that Dave's injury turns their relationship completely on end.

#writeblr introduction #writeblr #writeblr intro #queer writers #lgbtq writer #ao3 #wip #creative writing #writing #new writeblr #ntzsche misc #ntzsche nuka-world #ntzsche Salem #ntzsche Crash

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howtodrawyourdragon · 6 months ago

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A Helping Hand

Summary: Written for July Break Flash Bingo 2024. Set in a Modern AU. Hiccup struggles as the pain in his leg is especially bad today. Good thing there's a helping hand nearby.

Warnings: /

Rating: Teen and Up

Prompt: Location: Parking Lot

Words: 910

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Eret

Pairing: Hiccstrid, Eretcup

Author's Notes: The first JBB prompt I wrote for in general, no idea why it took me this long to post it.

Anyway, I've been posting some heavy whump as of late, so why not post a much lighter fic for today? :)

Enjoy!

The card and fic are under the Keep Reading.

-XOXOX-

Today is a bad day to go grocery shopping and Hiccup knew that before they left, but he assured Astrid that he would be fine.

He’s certainly regretting it now.

He’s trying not to lean too much on the cart as he limps around, following his fiancée. Astrid is pretty much running around, trying to get as many of the items on their list to cut this shopping trip short. The pain in his stump was less pleasant than usual earlier today, but after driving here and walking around Berk’s one and only supermarket for the past ten minutes, it has become so much more unbearable.

And Astrid is annoyed. Not with his pain, never with his pain, but with the fact that she trusts him to tell her when he can’t do certain things because of his leg and he didn’t do that today.

It’s so bad, the pain in his leg is giving him a migraine. And what doesn’t help are all the people trying not to stare at him.

He had a couple of plans, a few things to do, but it turns out he’ll be canceling all of it. He’ll be glad when they finally get home and he can crawl back into bed.

Eventually, Astrid manages to find the very last item on their list and then they head over to the register with a very full cart to pay for it all. Once all of their items have been scanned, Astrid tells him to go ahead and head for the car while she pays. He shouldn’t even bother to load any of the stuff up, she’ll take care of it.

Not feeling up to argue with her on that, he does as she suggests and heads out ahead of her. He limps out of the store and finds their car in the handicap spot. It is mercifully close.

Still, his limp draws enough attention. Particularly from a man who only moved here a couple of months ago.

“You need any help?” Eret asks. He was just about to walk into the supermarket himself when he spotted Hiccup struggling with the cart. The uneven terrain doesn’t exactly make it easy to use, not with an obviously painful leg.

Hiccup considers how stubborn he’s feeling in the moment before relinquishing the cart to him and nodding. Eret comes over and takes it from him. Crossing those last few meters together, Hiccup opens up the trunk of the car.

He and Astrid don’t use it often, just on days like these, when the alternative is walking across the city with a very achy stump.

“I got this, you go sit down,” Eret tells Hiccup when he attempts to help. The younger man shoots him a grateful smile and heads on over to the passenger seat in front. He’s not driving when his leg is like this, he’s not driving with a migraine, so he’s certainly not driving with both.

He drops into his seat, lies his head back and closes his eyes. They’re heavy, if he wasn’t in so much pain, he would be falling asleep right here as he waited for Astrid.

After barely any time at all, Eret has loaded up all their stuff and returned the cart. Hiccup knows he’s done when he appears at his still open door and gets his coin from the cart back.

“Sir,” he gives him a friendly, though playful smile. Hiccup returns it briefly, which takes more energy than he can spent.

“Thank you for helping out, Eret. I really appreciate it,” he thanks him, but all Eret does is flash him a smile and tell him to take care of himself before heading into the store himself.

In the side-view mirror, Hiccup watches him go.

Eret moved to Berk a good few months ago in the hopes of starting a new life. He hasn’t shared much about his old one, just that he’d made some bad decisions in the past, go involved in a job he hated and then came here when he quit it on a whim.

Currently, he’s working down at the docks as a fisherman.

Hiccup and Astrid are friends with him. Hiccup certainly since he’d gotten his number after that night of bowling with their entire friend group. And although Ruffnut tried very hard to get it all evening, Eret gave it to him just like that after a single conversation.

A moment later, Astrid plops down next to him in the driver’s side.

“I saw you had some help,” she mentions to him.

“Hm-hm.”

A moment of silence.

“Eret is such a hot piece of ass!” She states quietly, as if he’ll be able to hear them inside the car. Hiccup smiles before immediately regretting it and moaning miserably. His entire face is starting to hurt from the migraine.

“Don’t you think so?” Astrid asks as she starts the engine. She knows Hiccup has his number and Eret has his, she’s onboard with the idea of them.

“He’s nice to look at,” Hiccup admits. “But most importantly, he is nice.”

“I wouldn’t mind if he was nice to me, too,” Astrid admits to her fiancé and they share a smile before she drives out of their parking spot and leaves for home.

Inside the store, Eret can’t help but look back as well and watch as the two drive off. His day definitely made afte r an unexpected encounter with them.

-XOXOX-

#july break bingo #july break bingo 2024 #jbbingo2024 #july break flash #httyd fics #httyd movies #httyd 2 #how to train your dragon 2 #au #alternate universe #modern au #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #hiccstrid #eret son of eret #eretcup #my fanfics #a helping hand

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kevin--of-desert-bluffs · 3 months ago

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Writetober/Jotober 2024

Hiya! I’ll be drabbling a short bit of WTNV fanfic based on the Inktober prompts but turning them into writetober/jotober things instead! Block #writetober and #jotober if you don’t wanna see them!

Personal rules:

No less than 500 words featuring the prompt word or eluding to it. No more than 1000 words. Just write what comes to me and don’t go back and edit. Day 7: Passport Character focus: Martin McCaffry

It was funny how life took you round in circles so often, Martin thought. He thought this as he literally watched luggage going around and around, unclaimed. Night Vale airport was not busy, yet nobody claimed the suitcase. It couldn't possibly belong to anyone here anyway. There were always more departure's than arrivals. When he had worked at the Randy Newman Memorial Airport he had only ever investigated the goings and bewildered comings back of Night Vale residents.

The planes always departed, few arrived, and yet the citizens who tried to leave almost always ended up back at the airport. Almost always. Martin scratches his arm. He always got itchy when he thought too hard about how the airport and planes in general actually worked. That's why he'd quit.

No, that's not right, is it? He'd quit because of the dark elongated figures which haunted his every waking hour. They were here with him now too. Why had he come back then?

Martin had entertained the thought of trying to leave Night Vale himself. Maybe it would let him go since he'd worked so close to the giant flying metallic beasts for so long. It was almost time for his flight now. He'd happily, or more accurately neutrally but with understanding, gone through all of the state-of-the-art security measures. The metal detectors, full-body scanners and the lengthy pitch black tunnel that travelers must crawl through while a recording of a monotone male voice lists possible ways of dying. He hadn't even been bothered by the voice of a small child plays through strategically placed ceiling grates asking travelers to name every person they have ever kissed. He'd listed all five and also his wishes that five could become six one day.

What was stopping him then? This could be his way out. Not just out of Night Vale but away from the figures themselves. He was trying to concentrate just on that long suitcase but they were so close and so tall he could still see them out of the corners of his eyes.

He was about to turn and board the plane when he had a terrible thought; "What if they aren't confined to Night Vale? What if they follow me onto the plane and wherever else I go?"

Martin felt his nerves give in and he headed back out the way he had come. His own luggage had been checked. He would come back for it later. Now he just needed air and a new way out of his situation.

There at the entrance were two smiling people. They were ex-citizens of the former Desert Bluffs. It was obvious that they were by their blood stained clothing and smiles that extended past the eyes showing way too many teeth. As all Night Valeians did, Martin ignored them, until they put a pamphlet into his peripherals.

Suddenly all the dark elongated figures pulled away. Martin, seeing this as a sign, took the pamplet and looked at the two smiling people. They did a motion in the air, a kind of circling with the fist thing. The figures retreated further away from them.

Martin gave a curt nod and that kind of smile you do when you're not really trying to be happy more you're just acknowledging someone or something. You know the one. White people do it a lot? Yeah that one.

He hurried around the corner before he took a closer look at the pamphlet. The Joyous Congregation of the Smiling God. Could this be it? Could this be his ticket and passport to something better, something without the figures? Well…there was only one way to find out. Martin got into his car and started to drive.

#wtnv #welcome to night vale #writetober #writetober 2024 #jotober #jotober 2024

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ruvviks · 2 years ago

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Chapter >> 14 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Lauren Dimas (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Thibault Lajoie (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a long list of side characters Total >> 7.8k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, arguing, blood mention, death mention, family / parents, violence mention

‘Need everyone in mission control, stat! Don’t just fuckin’ stand there- get Misha! Lauren, come in- I need you to get the boss on comms!’

Cato hurried through the hallway, maneuvering around the mercs on their way to mission control to get there before they would. She was attempting to get the clip of her chest armor fastened but with every footfall the two halves bounced off each other and she was starting to get increasingly frustrated about it.

‘Can’t get a hold of him,’ Lauren replied in her earpiece, her voice tense and a little distant- telling Cato she wasn’t even sat in her chair yet. ‘Still out on recon- out of signal bounds? I’ll scan the Net, see what I can find.’

She pushed the door to mission control open with her shoulder, the room already overly crowded with mercenaries; everyone who was in the building at the time, all loudly talking to each other while moving between computers and laptops and pointing at the screen on the wall.

Not much was happening yet. It simply showed a radar of Night City- pings from the NCPD, showing targets, people on the run- none of them the man they were looking for and frankly Cato had no idea how they would ever find him back.

‘What’s going on?’ Thibault asked, jogging over the second they noticed her entering the room. They were dressed in casual clothes; not suited up for gigs or a security shift, simply around to help out in the office itself for the day. Like most of the mercs in the room, for that matter; no one had expected this to happen. Which had exactly been what had allowed it to happen in the first place.

‘Ravager escaped.’

Edward Keizer.

Ex-Maelstrom, now one of Matvey’s mercenaries, personally responsible for many lost resources, injured mercs and both Mikhail and Vincent’s brief captivities in the past. Vitali had managed to capture him after they had successfully rescued Vincent from the man’s facility; and had kept him captive ever since, even after Ivan Dupoint’s unfortunate death earlier that year.

Cato had honestly forgotten a little bit about him.

Too preoccupied with other business; monitoring the situation with the Broker, keeping an eye out for any signs of another attack being planned- catching up with gigs as fast as possible- and then of course their brief time spent with Roksana Dobrynina, who had in her few days of being there proven to be more than a handful to Cato to the point she had needed to take some time off.

She’d only been back for a few days and hell had already broken loose again.

Entirely their own fault- all of them combined, it was of no use to point fingers and try to pin the blame on one person alone. They had not kept a close eye on him anymore and were now facing the consequences; but they needed to find him back. Who knew what he would do out there.

‘Fucking bastard,’ Thibault mumbled, following Cato to one of the computers that was still available. ‘How’d it happen?’

‘Hux went to bring him his breakfast and he wasn’t there anymore,’ Cato plainly answered. ‘Fucker escaped from his restraints, crawled out of a window and dropped himself on one of the lower floor’s balconies.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Got desperate, I s’pose. What’s a fall from over twenty high when you’ve already been stuck in a room for a few months?’

The door of mission control swung open again and Mikhail entered the room- finally, and after briefly looking around and finding Cato he quickly hurried his way over to her.

‘Already long gone,’ Cato said to him, shaking her head and throwing up her hands in desperation. ‘Dunno when he escaped exactly, Lauren’s getting settled in as we speak- she’ll know more soon. Dunno where he’s headed, dunno fuckin’ shit. And the boss isn’t here either! Bit of a pickle we’re in, it seems.’

‘Fantastic,’ Mikhail muttered and placed his hands on his hips. ‘Lauren?’

‘I’m here, I’m here, gimme a minute.’ A pause on the other side of the line, followed by soft humming and the brief flicker of the lights above their heads as Lauren logged into the systems. ‘Gonna try and see when he escaped, when he left the building. See if we can get a direction, make an estimate where he’d be right now.’

In Vitali’s absence, it was Mikhail who was in charge- though he never made any decisions entirely by himself, always needing Cato by his side for a second opinion. They worked well together; of course they did. Had worked together in the past and despite everything that had happened in their years apart, it was often as if they had not even been separated in the first place.

‘We should’ve paid more attention to him,’ Cato quietly said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched security footage from the building pop up on the screen. ‘Bet he’s already found his way back to Dobrynin Senior by now. Wherever that may be.’

‘Either that, or worse.’ Mikhail clicked his tongue and visibly clenched his jaw as a sharp exhale left his chest. ‘We know what he is capable of. Who knows who else he might hurt while out there?’

‘Geez, kids, lighten up a little? Take a look.’

The both of them redirected their attention to the screen again and watched as Lauren showed them footage from early that morning; five minutes past six, the exact moment Ravager dropped himself onto a balcony and took the elevator down to ground level.

‘Where’s he headed?’ Thibault asked.

‘North,’ Lauren answered, ‘from what I can tell at least. Headed to City Center in a stolen vehicle- I’ll see if I can track him down in a minute. I’ll first try to get the boss on the line again now, stand by.’

‘Cool beans.’ Cato paused and turned to look up at Mikhail. ‘And in the meantime?’

Mikhail quietly repeated her in Russian, glancing around the room and exhaling sharply a second time. ‘We do what we can, the old-fashioned way. Wish me luck.’

‘Break a leg, big boy.’

Cato watched in silence as Mikhail walked up to the front of the room, nervously rubbing his hands together as a string of tics left his lips and he tilted his head to the side a couple of times. Not a fan of speaking for a crowd- and Cato knew that, but encouraged him to do it anyway knowing the other mercs were far more likely to listen to him than to her.

‘Alright, listen up!’ Mikhail yelled, instantly drawing everyone’s attention and silence washed over the room.

‘We are working on an exact location,’ he continued. ‘Might take an hour- might take a day. Longer, who knows. Everyone who’s here today is going to make themself useful; I want teams out in field, eyes and ears on the streets. Vitali won’t be back until tonight and I’m not going to simply sit around and wait for him to return.’

‘Convenient for him, isn’t it?’ someone suddenly said, their voice sharply cutting through the silence of the room. ‘Like earlier, with the raids. With the cargo incident.’

‘What exactly are you implying here?’ Mikhail asked, a dark shadow washing over his face and Cato immediately straightened her back to see who was talking; she knew very well Mikhail was not actually asking for an explanation.

One of the newer mercs, she presumed- short, curly hair and big blue eyes behind glasses, and she had never seen them around before. They opened their mouth to speak again but noticed the warning looks from those around them and wisely kept the rest of their commentary to themself.

‘But what if he’s doing this?’ someone else suddenly broke the silence once more and everyone immediately started talking over each other at once- Cato couldn’t make out much of any of it, but she could hear both agreeing and disagreeing noises erupt from the audience.

‘Who fuckin’ said that?’ she yelled, turning around and putting her hands on her hips as she tried to oversee the crowd; but her height didn’t allow her to see very far and she quickly gave up, eyes slowly trailing her surroundings until she found Vincent, standing miserably by himself in the corner of the room.

Part of her understood why some of the less involved mercenaries would find Vitali’s regular absence suspicious. Those who knew him for longer knew how he liked to be involved in his business- and how he would go out into the field himself more than often to join his mercenaries on gigs or to deal with situations himself.

But the unfortunate timing of it all played right into Matvey’s hands and with each passing day, more and more people seemed to start turning against their fixer.

But Cato would never be one of them.

She had not known Vitali as long as Mikhail and did not know him as well as Vincent, but she didn’t need to. He had offered her shelter and protection after she’d shown up there several years back, on the run from Kang Tao with no other fixer wanting to do business with her because of it- and when Daniil had shown up and had attacked her earlier that year, Vitali had not stopped apologizing profusely to her later that day as if he had attacked her himself.

Cato maneuvered through the crowd, shoving some mercs aside to get to Vincent and she carefully reached out for his arm to get his attention. He merely clenched his jaw and shifted position against the wall, briefly glancing further into the room before redirecting his attention to her.

‘He’s not doing this,’ he quietly said, his voice barely audible above the clamor. ‘He wouldn’t- He would never do something like this.’

‘I know,’ Cato said, softly squeezing his arm as she spoke. She turned around again and straightened her back, clearing her throat before continuing.

‘Everybody shut the fuck up!’

Silence washed over the room and people turned to look at her- some relieved, others annoyed. Cato threw up her hands and gestured at the screen behind Mikhail; once more showing the radar with the map of Night City, and this time with areas marked in bright red where Ravager could be.

‘We’ve got work to do,’ she said, dropping her hands again. ‘All of us, Vitali included. In fact- he’s already been busy since what- six, seven in the morning? And what are you gonks doing, standin’ here? Yelling about whether or not he’s doing all of this himself? I’m sorry, are we talkin’ about the same man here?’

‘This is exactly what his father is trying to do,’ Mikhail chimed in. ‘Trying to create a rift between him and us. Trying to take everything away from him- orchestrate his downfall by launching attacks and trying to shift the blame to him. And I for one am not going to let that happen.’

‘And neither should any of you!’ Cato paused, turning to look at Vincent again and she gave his arm a quick, reassuring tap before moving away and walking over to Mikhail, to join him in front of the rest of the crowd.

‘Ravager escaped. He broke free, and he’s on the loose right now doing lord knows what and right now we’re the only ones who can get his ass back in containment where he belongs. Anyone too much of a pissbaby to help, leave the fuckin’ room right now. We don’t need you here.’

Silence, once more. People nervously glanced around, waiting for any sort of movement; and after a few seconds of nothing, a few of them slowly started making their way back toward the door, gazes glued to the ground, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

‘Thank you for being honest,’ Cato sarcastically called after them. ‘Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Hey- How’s Matvey’s boot taste?’

‘Cato,’ Lauren quietly said.

‘Bunch of fuckin’ cowards.’ Cato clenched her jaw and took a step back, exhaling sharply when one merc threw up a middle finger in her direction on their way out. Mikhail quickly placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly- not that it was all that necessary. Cato wasn’t planning on going after the mercs anyway.

‘Everyone else,’ Mikhail said, ‘make teams of four. Lauren will assign you to an area and I do not want to see you back until you’ve gone through every single street in that neighborhood. Understood?’

‘I need Panam, Thibault and V here with me,’ Cato added. ‘Anyone else can get to work. Let’s find this motherfucker before he hurts someone else.’

She watched in silence as people immediately got on the move, mercs finding each other to form teams and reaching out to Lauren- who disconnected temporarily from the inner circle’s channel- to get an area assigned. The three people she had called out for slowly found their way to her, while Mikhail sat himself down backwards on a chair nearby.

‘Special treatment for us?’ Panam asked, giving Cato a wink while hopping onto one of the desks. ‘What gives?’

‘We’re staying here,’ Cato said. ‘V- please, before you say anything- I know you’re eager to go out, but we gotta stay alert. Might just be another trap or part of Matvey’s plan. If Ravager comes back with reinforcements, we need to be ready.’

‘You’re better off asking Eddie to stay rather than me,’ Thibault said, gesturing at himself with a nervous little smile on his face. It faded the second he realized Cato wasn’t kidding.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ she said. ‘Best of the best. Eds is stronger in the field. We both know that.’

‘No luck with Vitali thus far, he is well out of bounds,’ Mikhail said, resting his arms on the back of the chair and placing his chin on top. ‘Best to assume he won’t be back until sunset, so until then it’s up to us.’

‘I know where he went,’ Vincent said. ‘I can easily go and get him if-’

‘No, V. I think- I think for now this is for the best.’

Cato stayed quiet as she looked between the two of them, biting the inside of her lip. Having the boss there with them in a time of crisis was nice, and reassuring; but she understood why Mikhail didn’t mind that he wasn’t there now, knowing very well Vitali had reached the end of his rope a long, long time ago.

She hoped they would find Ravager back before Vitali’s return. It would be the easiest for all of them- especially Vitali- and with a bit of luck she would be home before dinner and could get a good night’s rest.

The longer the situation lasted, the wearier everyone became.

Understandably so; Matvey had been around for long enough now, if you asked Cato, and she would be glad to have him dealt with sooner rather than later. Even though it had been a while since he himself had shown his face, his lasting influence on both the office and the city as a whole was hard to ignore and Cato wondered how much longer it would take for the situation to escalate for the worse.

With the rising threat of a new attack breathing down their necks, Ravager's escape had a highly unfortunate timing. Cato doubted it was part of the plan- no way Ravager could’ve still had contact with Vitali’s father in his captivity- but she did not want to take any risks either, which is exactly why she was staying behind.

‘All teams have been assigned,’ Lauren suddenly said, her voice audible to all of those still in the room with Cato. ‘I’ll continue monitoring the situation, see if I can close in on a specific location. Connecting you through to Judes right now, she’ll take care of any on-location business while I’m surveilling the Net.’

‘Alright, baby, be careful,’ Cato quickly said, clenching her fists behind her back to prevent her mind from wandering back to what had happened a couple of months ago, when Lauren had almost not woken up anymore after nearly getting fried-

‘Of course, sweetheart. Always.’

And the line went silent.

Cato clenched her jaw and lowered her gaze, unable to look any of her friends in the eyes as she took a moment to calm herself down. There was no need for panic, now; Lauren knew what she was doing and there was no way Matvey would be monitoring them so closely that he would see her diving into the Net and consider it a direct threat.

‘Alright, fuckers, I’m strapped in, let’s get going,’ Judy’s voice suddenly said through her earpiece. ‘Exits are covered, let’s secure any resources we still have and get some weapons ready.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Cato said and nodded at the door, signaling to the others to get a move on.

She lingered behind, waiting for Mikhail to get up from his chair again and briefly turned off her earpiece- and he followed her lead, not questioning it as they waited for the others to leave the room.

‘If we don’t find him before Vitali returns…’ Cato quietly started, but Mikhail shook his head and cut her off.

‘Not for you to worry about,’ he said. ‘As far as he’s concerned this is my operation- I’ll take the blame. We tried reaching him and couldn’t and that is all there is to it. No need to try any harder, we will only be wasting more time.’

Cato knew Vitali did not mind Mikhail handling things for him without discussing anything beforehand; though given the circumstances she feared he would mind now, especially taking into account how Ravager had hurt both Mikhail and Vincent and how Vitali had absolutely not been done with him yet.

‘We should have just kept a closer eye on him,’ he quietly said and shook his head again, reaching out to Cato to tap her twice on her upper arm. ‘Too late for that now. All we can do now is try to get him back, yes?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied, reaching out to grab Mikhail’s hand and she pulled it to her face to plant a kiss on the back of it.

‘Come on. Let’s get to work.’

Another day, another fight.

Vitali flinched involuntarily when the door of the living room slammed shut. He was hidden away in his room, but the noise was more than loud enough to reach him and it echoed through the entire house together with Nadya’s heavy footfalls as she stomped through the hallway toward the front door.

Leaving again. Classic.

Vitali exhaled sharply as the front door slammed shut with similar force, the vibrations shaking the windows and rattling his bones. He glanced at his alarm clock- it was nearly seven in the evening. If he and his siblings wanted to have dinner any time soon he would probably have to make it himself, now.

Nadya had gotten angry at Matvey again.

Of course- what else? He had come home and had dared to look at his laptop after work hours to check his emails and Nadya had instantly decided to pull open her mouth, when she could have easily chosen not to. Matvey had tried to explain himself, she had taken it personally, he had gotten frustrated and the situation had escalated into a ten minute lasting shouting competition with neither party in the right- and one of them significantly more in the wrong than the other.

Vitali barely cared anymore. His parents’ disagreements often boiled down to the same few things and it was impossible to tell anymore which of them had caused the entire chain of dominos to fall in the first place; in the past he had occasionally tried to figure it out, but if anything thinking about it all for too long had only made him feel worse.

The house was eerily quiet now.

Vitali stared outside for a little bit longer, allowing his heartbeat to settle down. Whenever his parents would argue, he would simply not be able to keep himself under control even when in the safety and comfort of his own room, as if their fight was happening right there in front of his eyes and it was all his fault.

He often wondered if it was his fault. He had proven on many occasions to be more than a handful to deal with.

He pushed the thought out of his head and got up from his bed, leaving his room without giving it a second thought. The door to Roksana’s room was slightly ajar; he briefly stopped to peek inside, and gave his sister a soft smile when she waved at him from within the half-finished pillow fort on her bed that she was building with Daniil.

Vitali carefully entered the living room, quickly turning to move into the kitchen, expecting his father to be on the couch- yet much to his surprise he nearly ran right into him and it startled him for some reason, taking a jumpy step back as his heart skipped a beat.

Matvey still wore his Arasaka uniform; he had not even gotten the opportunity to change into something else yet. Jacket off, tie loosened and sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he leaned back into the kitchen counter with his hands solidly placed on top, white-knuckled with his fingers curled tightly around the edge.

He looked exhausted. Vitali was unsure what was going on for him at work, but he knew it hadn’t been easy for some time now; Matvey had been forced to make longer days than usual and it had already happened on multiple occasions that Vitali would come home from a party at four or five in the morning and his father would already be awake and getting ready to leave.

‘Sorry- Am I in the way?’ Matvey asked, noticing Vitali standing indecisively at the dining table.

‘No-! No,’ Vitali quickly responded and walked closer, leaning past his father to grab a glass from next to the sink and reaching for the fridge. ‘Just- wanted a drink.’

He exhaled sharply as he stared at the contents of the fridge, eyes slowly scanning for anything of his liking; and they lingered on the bottle of whisky inside the door for just a little longer than necessary, right before he snatched the carton of apple juice off the top shelf and closed the fridge door with his hip.

The silence that followed was deafening. Just the two of them standing in the kitchen, Vitali slowly pouring himself a glass of juice as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest again from stress. He glanced into his father’s direction; the man had still not moved and merely stared blankly ahead, his grip on the countertop still as tight as before.

‘Long day at work?’ Vitali quietly asked, setting the carton down on the counter and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

‘One crisis after another.’ Matvey slowly shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘I won’t bore you with that. It is nothing for you to worry about.’

‘I mean- I asked.’

Another silence as Vitali briefly considered just walking away again- but instead he pushed his father aside a little and hopped onto the countertop, pulling his legs to his chest as he grabbed his glass and took a sip.

‘What did you do?’ he asked, pretending he hadn’t heard every single sentence of the fight already while Matvey turned to lean sideways against the counter to look at him.

‘I checked my email,’ he bluntly answered. ‘Which is something that I have to do sometimes if I want to keep the job she wanted me to have so badly.’

‘You’d think she would understand, considering she has to do the same.’

‘Hm.’

Vitali bit the inside of his cheek and watched his father fiddle with his watch, eyes absently focused on the sink as if he was in deep thought. He used the moment of silence to lean toward the fridge again and slowly put the carton back inside, hoping the awkward tension that had suddenly arisen would settle down again.

Nadya’s hypocrisy was crystal clear to everyone in the household, yet Vitali was still often the only one brave enough- or stupid enough- to call her out on it. How often she would chew Matvey out for things she herself did too; how often entire fights could have been avoided altogether had she just taken a moment to realize how unfair she was being.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Vitali suddenly asked, slightly startling himself with the wave of confidence as he turned back to look at Matvey.

‘You just did,’ Matvey simply said in response, and the corner of his mouth slightly pulled up when Vitali dramatically rolled his eyes and kicked his foot in his father’s direction.

‘Go ahead.’

‘Why are you two- you know, still together?’

Matvey’s smile faltered.

Vitali clenched his jaw and watched his father slowly rub his hand over his face, eyes wandering off to the living room and then the wall as he took a few steps back. For a single moment he genuinely seemed to think about Vitali’s question- but then a surprisingly sad look in his eyes replaced his thoughtful frown and he lowered his gaze, as he pushed himself away from the countertop.

And Vitali instantly felt bad.

At times, he truly wondered if his parents still loved each other; the way they could barely hold normal conversations anymore, the way they slept in separate rooms and the way there would be days they wouldn’t even look each other in the eyes.

‘I’m- I’m sorry,’ he quietly said, lowering his legs again and letting them dangle down over the edge of the countertop while nervously rubbing his hands over his lap. ‘I didn’t mean to-’

‘It’s alright. I understand.’

Matvey turned around again to look at him and gave him a reassuring nod, putting his hands on his hips as he sighed and averted his gaze.

‘I love your mother,’ he said and Vitali felt his heart drop. ‘I truly do- I always have. And yes, she can be a little stubborn sometimes- and she often says things in the heat of the moment she doesn’t mean- but I- I just-’

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Vitali lowered his gaze and quickly finished his drink, a sudden knot in his chest causing his head to hurt- the feeling of tears threatening to well up in his eyes.

He understood his father’s frustration more than anyone else; Nadya was impossible to talk to and because of that nothing was ever talked out, and when she would come back after storming out of the front door she always expected everyone to apologize to her but never did any of that herself.

He set his glass back near the sink and carefully hopped off the countertop, eyes finding Matvey again; he had not moved yet, frozen to the ground and eyes staring straight ahead as he took visibly shallow breaths, falling apart at the seams in a way Vitali had never seen him do before.

‘You don’t speak of this to her,’ he suddenly said, not even able to look Vitali in the eyes.

‘Of course not,’ he quickly replied. ‘I would never.’

He could walk away now. Conversation was clearly over.

But something caused Vitali to hesitate and he stood there for just a little longer, thousands of thoughts and questions racing through his mind; and Matvey noticed his hesitation and finally looked at him once more, frowning lightly as he opened his mouth to speak again.

And without thinking, Vitali stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father, hugging him tightly- something he had not done in years- with his face turned away and pressed solidly into his shoulder.

Matvey tensed up and did not move for a second, and Vitali half expected him to push him away; yet then he relaxed and hesitantly placed his hand on Vitali’s back, absently running it up and down a little the moment he realized Vitali wasn’t going to move away any time soon.

He knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

Nadya would come home that night, Matvey would apologize, they would go to bed in their separate rooms and the next morning everything would go right back to how it had always been. Perhaps Matvey would still be there around breakfast- giving the two of them the opportunity to bicker before either of their day had even started, and if Vitali was lucky enough he would already be awake to witness it happen in real time.

He couldn’t help but wonder, when his parents had last hugged each other.

He slowly let go again and stepped back, hands nervously clasped together as he slowly nodded and let his gaze wander through the entire kitchen, simply to avoid having to make eye contact. Matvey had regained himself now; straightened his back and gestured at the door leading into the hallway, his eyes also searching for anything to focus on other than his son.

‘Go get your siblings,’ he quietly said, a softness to his voice Vitali was not used to.

‘Your mother won’t come back for some hours, anyway. We’re ordering pizza.’

He should never have left.

It had not even been that important anyway; more of a wild guess than an actual possible lead and after an entire day of scouting in Pacifica and part of the Badlands Vitali had managed to draw the conclusion his father’s forces had merely been there to resupply, rather than anything else.

‘He’s entering the Megabuilding now, jefe. First team is at least six minutes away with this traffic- you’re closest as of now.’

He should never have fucking left.

Should have just sent Vincent, like he had offered the day before; should have just let his mercenaries deal with the situation and should have just gone to the office like every day and stay there, be there when his mercenaries would need him.

Vitali tightened his grip on the steering wheel to the point his knuckles hurt and he put his entire weight on the gas. Maneuvered around the other vehicles on the road with ease- the streets of Watson were still cluttered with cars but he was too high on adrenaline to be bothered by any of it, going well over the speed limit as he hurried his way to his destination.

How could he have forgotten about Ravager? Obviously not entirely so- the man had been present in his head just enough for Vitali to not forget to feed him and allow him daily bathroom breaks, but for some reason it had never occurred to him that the cyborg would probably try to escape at some point.

Vitali was not even entirely sure anymore why he hadn’t just killed him yet.

‘He’s taking his sweet time,’ Lauren said. ‘Stairs instead of the elevator. What floor was it again?’

‘Twentieth,’ Vitali absently answered, taking a turn a little too sharply and cutting the curb, swiftly steering around some pedestrians only just managed to jump aside and yelled at him as he passed them by.

It was nearing midnight.

Vitali had been away for the entire day and despite his mercs’ desperate attempts they had been unsuccessful at tracking down Ravager in his absence. Everyone out in the field had already been on their way back to Wellsprings- and then Lauren had suddenly received a ping from another runner in her corner, telling her the ex-Maelstrom merc had been spotted in Little China.

He had taken the metro, to Megabuilding H11.

And Vitali had instantly known something was terribly wrong.

He finally arrived at the entrance- jumped out of his car and sprinted inside, ignoring the looks of the building’s residents as he passed them by. The elevator was already down and he jumped in, knowing very well his leg would not allow him to run up that many sets of stairs; he startled an old lady by accident and quietly apologized while repeatedly slamming the button for the twentieth floor.

‘Need me to send reinforcements over?’ Lauren asked.

‘Have them on stand-by outside,’ Vitali answered, once again glancing in the direction of the old lady and reassuringly gesturing at her that everything was okay. ‘I can handle this myself.’

His eyes briefly moved over the corner of the elevator- the exact corner he had sat in not too long ago, unmoving for nearly an hour as he had been unable to drag himself back up on his feet and go back home. The knot in his stomach tightened and he shakily exhaled, quickly averting his gaze and reaching for the side of the elevator to lean against before he would lose his balance.

It didn’t feel right, being back there. The fight they’d had was still fresh in Vitali’s memory and it was all coming back in waves now the more the elevator ascended.

What could Ravager possibly gain from this? Why go there out of all possibilities- was it payback? An act of revenge- but for what? Directed at Vitali, for holding him in captivity for so long? Directed at Matvey, for not breaking him out?

The elevator came to a stop and Vitali ran out, bolting up the last set of stairs and taking out his handgun. He hoped he wasn’t too late; perhaps Ravager was still a few floors down, perhaps Vitali still had time to intercept him on his way to the apartment-

But the second he entered the hallway and noticed the front door slightly ajar, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Vitali moved forward. Every step heavier than the last, every footfall echoing loudly through the hallway and his head as he once more closed in on the small, remote apartment in Megabuilding H11, gun pointed as steadily as he could at the door and heart nearly beating out of his chest.

What if he was too late? What if he had already-?

‘No cams nearby, I’ve lost you. Talk to me, Vito- what’s happening?’

Vitali reached for the door and for a split second he hesitated again; shaking hand hovering mid-air, fingertips brushing past the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine. He was scared- terrified, holding his breath and biting his tongue until he tasted blood-

And he pushed it open.

‘Vitali? What’s going on? Did you get him?’

He was frozen.

The apartment was still how he remembered it; the same, poorly lit interior with worn furniture, the walls empty, the paint peeling. He still vividly remembered how she had stood there, at the door. How she had stepped aside, had allowed him to enter- had reached up to gently cup his cheeks-

Vitali slowly reached for his hearing aid, switching off the communication channel as he ignored Lauren’s continuous attempts to get him to answer. He could barely keep the gun still but refused to lower it, the barrel pointed right at where he wanted it to go.

They had not heard him enter.

And he did not know what to say.

Could only watch in pure terror as Ravager held Nadya tightly in his arms, her hands cradling his cybernetic face and their lips pressed against each other, a kiss more passionate Vitali had ever expected of her.

His arm felt heavy.

He could no longer hold up the gun and slowly lowered it, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as a frown took shape on his face. For a second, he was no longer sure if he was awake or not- had he fallen asleep behind the wheel? Had someone managed to put a bullet between his eyes during his recon mission and was this hell?

‘Mother?’

She pulled back the second he spoke- as if she had touched fire, pushing Ravager against his chest to get him away from her. And she turned her head, eyes searching- and finding Vitali with ease, the blood draining from her face.

A deafening silence washed over the room. Vitali’s eyes were unfocused; he could barely see straight anymore and the apartment spun around him and for a brief moment he feared he was going to pass out, all by himself in a hostile environment with a loaded gun at the disposal of anyone who wanted to hurt him.

The mere thought of that alone shook him awake again and he grabbed his weapon tightly in both hands, raising it up to Ravager’s chest- the man raised his hands in defense, but the grin on his face told Vitali he felt not even remotely intimidated and was simply playing along.

If he wanted to, he could charge at Vitali and disarm him with ease. And Vitali knew that the both of them were well aware of it.

‘What are you doing here?’ Nadya asked, her voice shaking as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and defensively took a step back.

‘I followed-’ Vitali quietly responded, but for some reason could not find the right words to say. ‘I thought that- I thought he would-’

‘Just get outta here, kid,’ Ravager suddenly interrupted him. ‘This isn’t any of your business. Just walk away.’

Vitali’s stomach turned and he could suddenly almost taste his poor excuse of a lunch from earlier that day in his mouth again, barely able to keep his composure while his chest tightened and he nearly threw up. Nadya muttered something in Russian- but he couldn’t focus on her voice enough to hear any of what she said, the ringing in his ears too overwhelming and the numbness in his head pressing down on his eardrums.

‘What is going on?’ he quietly asked and lowered the gun again, taking a single step toward his mother and ignoring Ravager doing the same. ‘Does he- Does he know?’

His mother didn’t respond.

And that told Vitali enough.

A sarcastic scoff left his lips and he smiled weakly, licking his lips while sticking the gun back in its holster and walking backwards until his back found solid wall. The voice inside his head was screaming at him again- telling him to get out of there, just walk away like Ravager had said-

‘Millions of people in Night City,’ Vitali said in a low voice, slightly tilting his head as his gaze caught Nadya’s again. ‘And you decide to fuck the man who is more of a walking corpse at this point than a human being.’

He felt disgusted.

Of course he had no idea what else had been happening- perhaps Nadya and Matvey were no longer a thing, perhaps it didn’t fucking matter. It shouldn’t matter at all to him, either way- why would he care? It really was none of his business.

Yet something about it all caused him to be sick to his stomach and another scoff left his lips, eyes glossing over again as he felt his entire world start to crumble around him and he felt his shoulders cave in.

‘All he wants is his revenge,’ Nadya said, a sob spilling out of her throat with it and she covered her mouth with her hand, as if she startled herself with it.

‘So you do this?’ Vitali asked, vaguely gesturing around the room. ‘Very mature. I love how your communication skills have developed backwards since I left home.’

‘What could I have said?’

‘What could you- I’m sorry, anything?! You’re his wife, for fuck’s sake!’

‘It would not have changed anything! He hasn’t loved me since the day you were born!’

‘Oh, so now it’s my fault again? How do you keep- He hasn’t loved you since- I’m sorry, are you blind?’

‘Why are you protecting him?’

‘I’m not protecting either of you- I’m just fucking baffled by your stupidity! Not every bad thing in your life is caused by others, you know that? The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!’

‘And it doesn’t revolve around you either!’

‘Yet you seem very insistent that I am single-handedly ruining every fucking aspect of your life when you could have easily decided to just get a fucking divorce at any point in time and walk away like you have always wanted to do!’

Vitali’s words nearly echoed through the room and dead silence followed, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. He was seething again- the same red hot anger he had felt before raging through his system once more and fighting to get out, everything he had always wanted to say to his mother rolling off his tongue before he could reconsider any of it.

‘I don’t know what went wrong between you two but you should both be ashamed of yourselves,’ he panted, instinctively wiping his mouth with the back of his hand- half expecting there to be blood on it when he pulled it back.

‘I didn’t mean for this to happen,’ Nadya quietly cried in response.

‘For what to happen? This? Or for me to find out about it?’ Vitali paused, glancing at Ravager and huffing softly. ‘Hear that? Apparently you were a mistake.’

‘Hey- I have just about the same amount of stakes in this as you,’ Ravager simply replied and raised his hands in defense again. ‘I honestly don’t give a shit. I’m just here for a good time. You’re the one losin’ your damn marbles about it.’

With each passing second, Vitali started to regain himself more and more and he suddenly felt- embarrassed. His cheeks started to burn and an involuntary, strangled chuckle left his lips.

Ravager had a fair point- why was Vitali even trying to argue? Why did he care?

‘There are so many other things you could have done instead of this,’ he quietly said, redirecting his attention to his mother. ‘I don’t- I don’t get it.’

Nadya had always had something to say to him.

But now, she was quiet.

Stared at him with wide, hazy eyes, and she looked terrified- of him, perhaps? No longer the woman she used to be- far from it and somehow worse than Vitali remembered, the display of feigned shock and fear more frustrating to him than her pure rage and seething hatred for him when he had been younger.

‘There is nothing to get.’ Ravager scoffed and shook his head, clearly enjoying himself thoroughly as he continued. ‘If you’ve been gone for so many years- what do you really know? You weren’t there to see it. Who are you to have any say in any of this?’

Vitali wasn’t listening anymore.

He turned around, ignoring his mother saying his name- once, twice, trying to get his attention- but he was already out of the door and stumbling through the hallway, squinting his eyes at the sudden bright light and barely able to keep his balance.

He was just confused, now.

He had not been inside for more than ten minutes and yet he could already barely remember how it had gone- only one third of his own words still lingering in his brain and none of Nadya’s, he hadn’t really cared about any of her responses and not a single one of them had stuck.

The knot in his stomach finally tightened and so did his throat, seconds before he fell to his knees and threw up on the cold, concrete floor of the building. No one around to help him back up on his feet, this time; it was just him and the big, gaping hole in his chest of which he wasn’t really sure why it was suddenly there.

Nothing more than childish revenge.

Nadya’s stakes in the matter were crystal clear to him now. He finally understood why she had stuck around- and now she could finally leave if she wanted to, her newly found love back in her arms and enough money in her pocket to comfortably retire if she so pleased.

He wondered where she would go. The east coast? Another country?

He dragged himself back up on his feet, shivering and shaking and his hands freezing cold. For a split second, he wanted to go back- take out his gun and put a bullet between Ravager’s eyes, and a second one, and a third, and a fourth. Wanted nothing more than to tear his dead body to shreds with his bare hands, burn his remains, bury the ashes deep underground-

I want to go home.

A choked sob left Vitali’s lips and he suddenly felt exhausted.

Why did he even bother anymore? With every passing day it became harder and harder for him to keep going and he kept learning things that made him feel even worse than before; and he knew that none of it should matter. His family didn’t want him back anyway.

And yet there he was, spilling more tears for them as if it would help wash away his sorrows and his pain, as if it would undo everything time had done to them and bring back the days where everything had been good, when his parents had loved each other so- and had still loved him.

If they had ever even done that to begin with.

Back in the elevator, Vitali reached for his hearing aid again and switched the communication channel back on. Lauren immediately said something to him- but her words didn’t reach him anymore, his mind completely elsewhere as the elevator slowly began descending.

‘Everything is fine,’ Vitali bluntly said, suppressing another sob and straightening his back- regaining his composure, for nobody in particular. ‘You can call everyone back- Ravager is not our problem anymore.’

In hindsight, he didn’t know why he hadn’t just killed him. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to do that in front of his mother- but she had worked for Arasaka Security long enough to be more than familiar with death and this wouldn’t have been any different.

Vitali bit the inside of his cheek, Lauren’s voice reassuringly in his ear yet none of what she said made sense to him anymore. He leaned against the wall and rested his head against the cold glass of the elevator, closing his eyes as he opened his mouth one last time to speak.

‘I’m going home.’

#nuclearwriting #rbs much appreciated :) <3 #tee hee and lol. well. there you go #the flashback of this chapter is soo insane to me actually there's so much going on in there #need you guys to know there Is a lot more still going on behind the scenes. it will all fall into place later trust me #but for now. [gestures vaguely] have this and feel free to kill me with baseball bats #or wait save that for after next chapter actually. thanks #ANYWAY YEAS let me know what you guys think!! i love seeing everyone's thoughts in the tags <333 #ch:the broker

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