#like now that i can move again the fear is kept at bay somewhat

[natandacat]

Cant believe the hospital just actively made me worse to the point where i was hospitalized for 10 days and had to be sent home in an ambulance bc i still couldnt sit and they went, well. How could we have known <- I gave them extensive documentation and warned them for months about the likely outcomes of the surgery

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hemlooo ur request are open yay>< can I request a nightmare animatronic x platonic C.C?

So basically Reader is a nightmare animatronic wanting to kill c.c,he dosen't know about them until it's too late and he gets jumpscared..but when Reader sees how c.c is really scared and just a child they just pick him up and protect/cuddle him on his bed? Comforting him 'till he calms down n protecting him from other nightmares<3 sorry its long pls feel free to ignore/delete it

-🧅

Yeah! Also I'm kinda on the bandwagon of CC's name being Evan so I'll be calling him that in future writing!

..........

'Just another helpless brat who's making a fool out of us...I'll make sure he never sleeps again..'

Hiding in the shadows of the dark house, your claws curled into your fists, long teeth gnashed as your glowing optics searched the hallway. You were aiming for an opening, hoping to catch your newest prey by surprise.

According to your fellow Nightmares, this boy was using a flashlight to keep them at bay, using clever tactics such as relying on his hearing. He was smart for exploiting your weaknesses, you'll give him credit for that.

But now he seems to be treating this as some "fun game". Only Plushtrap and Balloon Boy would wanna play silly games...not you, though.

You wanted this foolishness to end. So you finally manifested in his dreams, joining your friends. Except you didn't want him knowing you existed until the last possible second.

From your observations, the others approached him from the doors, closet, the bed behind him, or a combination of these places. But you realized he never considered one thing:

Looking up.

Conveniently you can turn yourself invisible, so your new plan was to sneak in while he was checking one of the doors. It was time for your own clever tactics.

He'll never see you coming.

Finally, you made your move when he was occupied with checking the right door, sneaking in through the left. Then you scaled the wall and clung to the ceiling, lying in wait as you anticipated his reaction when you inevitably descend upon him and tear the flesh from his bones.

You didn't plan to drop down just yet. A part of you was curious as to how this boy acted, fighting for his own life when most children you've haunted would simply scream and hide.

So you just observed him quietly and patiently.

...........

On the brink of hyperventilation, Evan couldn't understand why all of the Nightmares were so aggressive this night. They wouldn't drop clawing at the doors, Foxy kept scratching the closet blinds, and the Freddles showed up quicker and took longer to leave his bed.

It was like..they wanted to remind him of his upcoming birthday. It didn't help he got left behind at the diner today either. The animatronics just seemed to stare at him, watching his every move as he tried finding the exit.

He shivered a little. The Fredbear plush told him this was his way of conquering his fear of them once and for all. But if that was the case then...why hasn't he gotten any braver? He knows the Nightmares' routines. So they should be easier to stave off.

Once he stopped hearing Chica's breathing from the right door, he sighed and backed off, turning around-

To see the left door was partially open.

His heart sunk into his stomach, wondering if Bonnie got in, but he didn't see the giant blue rabbit anywhere in sight.

That terrified him more than anything. Not knowing where these monsters are when they were somewhat predictable in their movement is what scared him the most.

Then he heard heavy breathing from above.

With a quiet whimper, Evan shakily pointed the flashlight upwards and soon his gaze followed, expecting to see Bonnie.

But it was someone new.

You, a nightmarish animatronic beast resembling some [animal]. Your whole body turned from translucent to opaque the moment the light hit your face. He could see you clinging to the ceiling, your neck craned in such a way that allowed you to stare straight into his eyes.

And you roared, a horrify demonic screech, though only for a brief moment.

The brunette screamed and dropped the flashlight before he collapsed to the floor, curling up and shielding his face from whatever pain you were about to inflict on him.

Yet it didn't come. At least not immediately, though now he was too much of a sobbing mess to care.

Seeing him resort to bursting into tears left you quite confused. He didn't run away at all or try to burn your retinas with the light. You expected him to have at least some fight left in him.

Where did all of that go? Was he only pretending to be brave?

Usually, that'd make you chuckle. Seeing these spoiled brats act all high and mighty until you show up often filled you with delight. It made your job more fun.

But now it didn't seem so fun. Not in the slightest.

He was just bawling on the floor--a pitiful defenseless morsel finally at his limit. Maybe you were the last straw for him, being someone new and unpredictable. And he just can't take it anymore.

Now that you see what he truly looks and acts like...you realize he's definitely the youngest kid you've ever haunted. It was a surprise to think that he was like this all along when the others considered him the devil for outsmarting them.

But in reality? He was just a little kid who was terrified to the core. Plain and simple.

Sympathy and guilt weren't in your dictionary, but...they were in your mind, eating away at you like a parasite. And you eventually caved into these foreign feelings, deciding not to go through with killing him.

Dropping from the ceiling as quietly as you could, your limbs shifted back into place. And you carefully scooped up the crying child into your arms. You tried making him as comfortable as you could, but it was difficult granted how damaged your suit was.

Evan realized this and sniffled, too shocked to immediately panic at being so close to an animatronic. He even stopped crying at the moment from utter disbelief. "Wh-Wha..."

"I'm sorry for scaring you, child," you rumbled in a slightly garbled voice, trying to sound nurturing. But it didn't quite work as he just flinched anyway. "I won't hurt you."

"P-Put me down..please."

Nodding, you walked over to his bed and gently set him down, shooing away the trio of Freddles that gathered. "Go. He's mine now." You growled.

To his surprise, they zipped right off, though he sniffled and hugged his Fredbear plush to his chest. "Aren't you Freddy's friend? That might make him mad and..h-he might-"

"No, he won't come after you. I'll make sure the bed's too heavy for him to crawl out under." You chuckled, hoping to make some light humor as you sat down beside him. The mattress creaked slightly.

Then you looked down at him, seeing that his tears were still falling. It felt a little awkward considering the scare you gave him only moments ago, but you wanted to make amends somehow. "So...what's your name, kiddo?"

"E-Evan.."

"Evan. I'm..[y/n], but you probably already knew that."

"I-I don't..I've..never seen you at the diner before." Evan looked up at you. "Are you new?"

"Ah..I'm from a rival restaurant." You chuckled. "It's not open yet but my face has been in ads, posters...and a cameo in that silly TV show you watch."

"Huh? Y-You know I watch..F-Fredbear & Friends?"

"...I know almost everything about you. After all, you created us. Or at least..that's what Fredbear says."

"Wait, my plushie??"

"Oh..you haven't met HIM yet. Nightmare Fredbear. He's quite a-"

"No...there's more?! I-I..I can't do this!! I can't do it!!!" Evan was starting to panic again, tears in his eyes as he hugged himself. "I-I know I'm scared of y-you all, but..I...I don't wanna be! And..I don't know how to stop!"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to tell him. You weren't very good at this one-to-one talk at all, especially not with a panicky crybaby kid.

Sighing, you set a gentle hand on his back. "Well I erm...think you're already doing a good job."

"I-I am?"

"Yeah. I mean..you're talking to me right now. So isn't that a start?"

He whimpered lightly, though he was starting to see the logic in your words. All he could do was nod, but that was okay with you.

You smiled a bit, despite knowing your smiles weren't exactly the most "friendly." However you stopped when he began staring at you, his expression changing.

"Y-Your suit..it's...?"

"Huh?" Looking down, you realized your torso's plush casing was reforming itself, repairing the damages. The holes and cracks were much smaller now. You held your hand to your chest to make sure it was real. And it was.

"That's pretty cool."

"Why did it do that?"

"Maybe it's because...you're becoming less afraid of me." You believed. "You're not seeing me as some mindless monster anymore. You see me as a normal [y/n], not a nightmare [y/n]. Heh, even I feel more whole than before."

In this moment Evan realized that..maybe there was hope for him after all. He could overcome his fears and not let the Nightmares make his dreams miserable. If he could fix you then..maybe he could fix the others?

Maybe he can do something good with his life for once instead of being so useless and cowardly.

Now he was tearing up again, but for a different reason. Though you didn't quite understand that at first and began to worry. "Evan..this is a good thing. You'll be able to move past these nightmares and wake up feeling better-"

"Th-That's the thing..I..I-I don't know if I wanna wake up now. You've been nicer to me th-than..than anybody this week..or even my whole life. And...I-I..." But he was cutoff by his own sobs.

"I've been "nicer" than anyone in your life? I..I only spared you, kiddo. That's not exactly-"

Though you froze as he pressed his face against your stomach, feeling the fabric growing damp as he clutched at the rips in your suit.

You severely underestimated how many tears this kid had stored in him.

While blubbering he spilled out everything wrong in his life. Granted most of his speech was muffled but you picked up a few things:

His older brother's bullying, his father's neglect, his sister getting more attention, the party he dreads..and other things that made you realize how truly terrible reality was for him.

Even in his own dreams, he can't escape that. He was so neglected that he had a meltdown over you simply not killing him.

And apparently he did cherish you and the other animatronics, considering your plushie forms as "friends", even. It was just his family that made him so terrified of you all. None of this was his fault.

Seeing that he was trusting you this much to the point of sobbing on you was a surprise, but you didn't want to abuse that--nor did you want any of the others taking advantage of that. So you hugged him gently as you looked around the room; you'd pet his hair but you didn't want your cold metal claws freaking him out.

Evan cried for what seemed like hours--then again time moves differently in his dream, but he cried for a long time before he showed signs of calming down. Once he did, you carefully pulled him off you to look at his tearstained face and large brown eyes.

"Th-Thank you.." He hiccupped. "I..I didn't mean to say-"

"No, I understand you better now. Your life has been sad and pitiful...full of anxiety and uncertainty, no?"

"Yeah..I just wish it wasn't like that all the time." Evan shivered slightly, prompting you to take the blanket and bring it over him. "I hate being scared..i-it's stupid.."

"It's not stupid. Everybody fears something."

"Even you?"

"..Sure..I guess I fear...hurting someone who doesn't actually deserve it."

His eyes widened as he stared at you. "Y-You don't think I deserve...a-any of this?" He began tearing up again, but not out of fear this time.

"The others might think you do, but I see what you're really like up close and..this sort of cruelty is most undeserved. If I had the power to stop all of this..I would. Believe me, Evan." You frowned slightly.

The young Afton nodded, rubbing his nose. Through blurry vision he could see the clock was already on 5 AM. Soon this nightmare will be over, but he dreaded the next night. He didn't want you to leave just yet.

"I'll keep you safe as best I can." You promised, carefully petting his hair with your fingertips. "Just rest and let this night pass. I can't change much about your reality, but I can protect you here in your dreams."

"..a-are you sure?"

"Yes. No Nightmare will lay a hand on you. All I ask in return is that my body is fixed. Just keep talking to me, okay?"

"A-Alright. I promise."

"Good. Now be brave and wake up."

The moment you said that, the alarm clock went off and Evan nearly fell out of bed. He opened his eyes and looked around, not seeing you anywhere. To his disappointment, he was hugging a tearstained pillow the entire time.

It was nowhere near as soft and comforting as you were. Ironic he considered "soft" and "comforting" as adjectives for the thing he was terrified most of, but you somehow were.

As he looked up, he found an animal plushie taped to the ceiling--which resembled you. Michael probably thought it was another cheap little prank that was gonna make him bawl first thing in the morning.

But he wasn't freaking out at all.

No, instead he felt...reassured that you'll protect him. He probably shouldn't have trusted you so easily, knowing you look no different from the monsters who wanted him dead.

Though maybe..looks aren't everything.

You had more heart than anyone in his life, and you were a terrifying monstrous animal robot.

Evan didn't understand how that worked, but if you truly meant what you said then...

Maybe things will be fine.

And tomorrow will be a better day, not just another day.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

[dccomicsimagines]

A Loooooong Time - Wally West x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can you write an imagine where the reader hasn't been touched or had any intimate time with Wally for a loooooong time and she wants to know why and Wally confesses that he's afraid to hurt her during sex cause he can get a little too fast? Thank you!

***

Wally pressed you back against the wall. His lips sealed to yours. You ran your hands up and down his back before slipping your fingers under his shirt to touch his bare skin. He moaned, vibrating slightly under your touch. 

Three, two, one and Wally was suddenly out of your grasp. “Sorry.” He was on the other side of the room with his back to you. 

You sighed in disappointment and frustration. “It’s okay.” You bit your lip, watching his hands vibrate as he looked out the window of your apartment. Gathering your courage, you cleared your throat. “Is something wrong, Walls?”

“What? Something wrong? No.” Wally laughed too hard. A fake laugh. You wrinkled your nose.

“Come on, Walls. We can’t go more than a minute of kissing before you run away.” You wrung your hands. “Is it because what happened last time we...got farther?”

Wally turned to look at you, eyes wide, face flushed. “No. I couldn’t be upset that I hurt you. No way.” A hint of sarcasm slipped into his voice. 

You rolled your eyes. “Wally, you didn’t mean to hurt me. You just moved a little too fast for me, but we can try again. You don’t have to be afraid.” 

“(Y/N), beautiful. I can’t risk it again.” He looked back out the window, leaning against the frame. “Hurting you was the worst thing I have ever done.” 

“Now you’re being overdramatic.” You went to his side and took his hand. “The worst thing you’ve done is mock my cooking skills.” 

Wally snorted. His hand limp in your grasp. “Making me laugh isn’t going to work.” 

“Then what will work, Wally West?” you said with a smirk. “I miss you.” You looked at him with wide, wanting eyes. He choked on his breath. 

“No!” He jerked away from you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), but no.” He grabbed his coat from the bed. “I’m heading home. I’ll call you.” A gust of wind hit you as he disappeared from your apartment. 

Your shoulders slumped, sinking down to sit on the floor and hugging your knees to your chest. “Wally, why?” Tears threatened to fall from your cheeks, but you kept them back. You wouldn’t pity yourself, not when Wally clearly needed to get over his fear of hurting you.

***

Wally’s heart was in his throat as he zoomed to the med bay on the watchtower. “Where is (Y/N)?” he demanded, skidding to a stop when he came face to face with Martian Manhunter.

J’onn blinked before gesturing for Wally to lower his voice. “They are resting for now. We want them to stay the night.” He stepped aside. Wally rushed through the doorway, going straight to your bedside.

You looked ill. Monitors beeped quietly around you. Wally frowned at the IV in your arm and the blood bag attached to it. He gently took your hand. A throat cleared from the doorway. Wally glanced over to find Dick standing there. “What happened?”

“(Y/N) took three bullets.” Dick bit his lip, moving to Wally’s side somewhat nervously. “They were protecting some kids.” 

Wally’s hand tightened around yours. You shifted slightly in your sleep before relaxing again. “I told you to protect them,” Wally said harshly. “You promised me you wouldn’t let them get hurt.” 

Dick sighed. “Walls, I can’t be everywhere at once. (Y/N) knew the risks and they will recover.” He bumped Wally’s arm. “Besides, you could have protected them yourself if you would have came with us.” 

“Don’t start that again. I’m angry enough that you took (Y/N) with you.” Wally sat on the edge of your bed, studying your face. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your palm. 

“Try to get some sleep, Walls. It won’t help (Y/N) if you stay up all night,” Dick said, slipping out of the room once he saw he no longer had Wally’s attention.

Wally stared at you for a long time, counting each breath you took. He almost had a heart attack when he got the call you were injured. Why were you always getting hurt? At least this time it wasn’t by him. He swallowed hard.

Time passed, his eyes struggled to stay open. After a mental debate with himself, he carefully laid down beside you. You shifted closer to him, sighing in your sleep. Wally froze, panicked before forcing himself to relax. Resting his arm on your hip, he fell asleep with the comfort you were safe.

***

You felt a heartbeat against your cheek. Wally’s cologne tickled your nose. You took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that floated through your body. Opening your eyes only a little bit, you smiled when you saw the warmth you felt by your side was in fact Wally West himself. 

Joy filled you along with contentment. This was the first time in a long time that Wally would dare cuddle with you. “I should get hurt more often,” you whispered to yourself before closing your eyes again and enjoying yourself.

***

“Wally, I can walk, you know.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to your apartment. 

“I know, but I don’t want you to get overtired.” Wally blushed, giving you a tight smile. You nuzzled his neck, giggling when you felt his pulse throb against your nose. “(Y/N).”

“Wally.” You smirked at him. He grumbled, bumping your apartment door open with his hip. “Thank you.” He set you on your couch.

“You’re welcome.” He sat beside you, leaving a wide space between you. “Are you in pain? Do you need your pain meds?”

“No, I’m good.” You smiled at him and took his hand. “Just sit with me.” 

Wally shifted uncomfortably, but stayed where he was. Silence fell between you. It was peaceful. You closed your eyes, relaxing. Wally’s hand stayed in yours. Suddenly, Wally’s stomach growled, breaking the silence.

You laughed. “Hungry?” you asked, opening one eye to look at him. 

“Always,” he chuckled. “Do you want Chinese? I can have it in a flash.” 

“Sure.” You bit your lip. Your heart soared. He was almost like the Wally you first fell in love with. “You know what I want.” 

He got to his feet and started to lean down to kiss you. You leaned up to meet him when he suddenly hesitated, eyes wide. A frown pulled at your lips, pleading with your eyes for him not to regress into his self-doubt. Wally’s eyes shined and he slowly leaned down to press his lips against yours. You didn’t move, too afraid you would scare him off like a rabbit in the woods. 

“I’ll be back soon.” He pulled away too quickly and was gone with a gust of wind. You sighed contently. It was progress.

***

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” you mumbled as you bent over to turn on the facet of your bathtub. The water ran. You ran your fingers under the stream, testing the temperature. Once it was warm enough, you stood back up. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” You moved to get out the bottle of bubble bath, gasping when it hurt your wound. The bottle fell to the floor.

Wind rustled your hair as the bottle was suddenly in Wally’s hand. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“Yeah, but I feel gross.” You blushed, taking the bottle out of Wally’s hand and dumped some into the tub. 

“Babe, how are you going to get into the tub? Or get undressed?” He blushed redder than his hair.

“I can manage.” You rolled your eyes. Bending down again, you gasped in pain. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.” Wally helped you up. “Let me help you.” 

You ducked your head to hide a smile. Wally’s hands shook as they moved to your shirt. “Thank you.” 

Wally hummed. You shivered as the cloth of your shirt slid against your skin. He pulled it over your head gently. You hissed slightly. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” A smile pulled at your lips when you saw Wally’s eyes roamed your bare chest. “Like what you see?”

Wally’s face turned as red as his hair. “Always.” He smirked. Slowly, he dropped to one knee to pull off your pants. “I missed this.” 

“Me too.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Maybe you could join me in the bath like we used to?” He looked up to meet your eye as he tugged down your underwear. “We won’t do anything, because I’m not able to move the way I would like to, but I just want to be held by you, Walls.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “I thought I was going to die.” 

Wally swallowed hard. “When I got the call, I almost vibrated my phone to pieces.” He hesitated for a moment. His face pressed against your stomach. “You scared me.” 

You closed your eyes, enjoying the vibration of his mouth against your stomach. “I know.” You glanced at the bathtub. It was dangerously close to overflowing. “I think we should get into the bath, huh?”

Wally smiled, getting to his feet to pick you up in his arms like you were the most fragile thing in the world. “I think we should.” He stepped into the tub and sat down with you in his lap. 

You gasped. “Wally, you still have your clothes on.” You laughed hard enough to hurt your healing wounds. 

“Oops.” He looked down at himself in genuine surprise. “I got distracted, but this is fine. You’re comfortable, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You snuggled into him. “I love you.” 

Wally kissed your forehead. “I love you too.” 

***

Weeks passed and you healed. Wally stayed with you the entire time. He didn’t shy away from touching you, even going so far as to sleep next to you. It made you feel like you were on the top of the world. 

Wally’s confidence grew. You saw it in his step and in the way he kissed you. The insecurity that had haunted him for so long was slowly disappearing. 

“Keep your eyes closed, babe.” Wally’s hands covered your eyes for a second before disappearing. You laughed, delighted. 

Things moved around. You heard a lighter flicking on and off. “Wally, was that a lighter?” 

“Maybe.” He chuckled, coming back to your side and leading you toward your bedroom. Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, open your eyes.” 

You timidly opened your eyes to find your bedroom lit by candles and the bed covered in rose petals. “Oh Wally.” A huge grin grew onto your lips as you looked at him. He blushed, standing there shirtless. His hands vibrated, revealing how nervous he was. 

“I want to try again if you’ll have me.” He smiled sheepishly, finally meeting your eye. You smirked at him.

“Always.” In a move so quick that you almost caught him off guard, you kissed him hard and knocked him back onto the bed. He laughed and kissed you back. You finally had your Wally back, and you will argue he was better than before.

[ikeromantic]

Trust

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place toward the end of Ch. 13 of the Romantic Route. SPOILERS!

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Base Villains

Mitsuhide felt a surge of incoherent rage. His beloved little mouse stood beside the shogun, her arm in his iron-grip. Her face was bruised - and likely more of her that he couldn’t see. Her clothes were torn and bloody. If Ashikaga thought this would bring him mercy, he was badly mistaken.

She turned her eyes from the shogun to look at Mitsuhide. There was a world of hurt in that gaze, but strength too. Despite all she’d suffered, she was angry and determined. There was even a flare of joy in her at seeing him.

“You base villains,” Ashikaga shrieked. He waved the guards to attack, but the daimyo’s men didn’t move.

Motonari ignored the shogun completely. He gave the chatelaine a saucy grin. “Hey! Yer lookin’ pretty good fer a prisoner, m’lady!” He even dipped in a slight bow to her, though the effect was somewhat lacking given the blood spatter and gore on him.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my love.” Mitsuhide took a step toward her.

She smiled, though the expression clearly caused her pain. “I knew you’d come.”

“I hoped you would say that, which is why I endeavored to come just as you needed me.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help the genuine affection that colored his voice when he spoke to her. He was still angry - still planning to tear the shogun’s body into pieces - but that rage burned right beside the fires of his love. One did not contradict the other. He knew he didn’t need to gentle himself for her. “I will have you free and in my arms in a moment.”

“Guards!” Ashikaga shrieked, his voice cutting through the nearby sounds of battle. He was not a man that liked being ignored.

The door of the side room burst open, spilling the shogun’s personal guards into the room. Where the daimyo’s men would not obey, these men were eager to do as ordered. There were only four of them, and at least one looked as if he was already half-dead.

“I expected more from you, Yoshiaki. It seems your popularity has taken a plunge.” Mitsuhide lifted his sword, ready to fight.

Motonari laughed. “Aww, if I’da known you were so hard-up fer help, I might not a’ betrayed ya so quick.”

The shogun’s face flushed crimson and he shook with anger. “You - you fools think to mock me? Know your position!” He jerked the chatelaine in front of him. “Besides, I have a hostage. You are mad to go against me!”

“I am quite sane, I assure you,” Mitsuhide’s eyes narrowed. The shogun clearly wasn’t. Mitsuhide was willing to kill a man for making his little one cry. For this . . . death was too easy. “Yoshiaki, this world has moved on. It has no more need for men like you. Because you fail to grasp this, I have come to assist you off the stage myself.”

The shogun’s eyes were wide, though with fear or anger, it was impossible to say. “Insolence! Make your jokes while you have breath for them.” Then he smiled and pulled a dagger from his belt. He pressed the sharp edge to the chatelaine’s throat.

She gasped and froze.

Behind them, one of the servants - no, Mitsuhide realized - Kyubei! - began to step forward. Mitsuhide gave the barest shake of his head. An attack now would mean death for his little mouse. The right moment would come.

“See they do not approach me,” Ashikaga ordered his men.

The half-dead looking guard bowed to the shogun. “As you command, majesty.” Then he turned his gaze to the intruders. Mitsuhide saw in them the fires of fanaticism, and the darkness of death approaching. This man had no fear, not anymore. He pulled a long sword and held it up. “I sentence you to death, kitsune. It is too light a punishment for turning on the shogun, but it is the best I can mete out.”

Motonari gave an excited shout. “Hell yes! Looks like one o’ yer men has got some backbone!”

Yoshiaki hissed something to the chatelaine and then pulled her to the corner of the room.

“I’ll take the room. You can have the shogun.” Motonari didn’t wait for a reply, just charged forward. He was immediately met by the half-dead fanatic, who despite his wounds, was clearly the best of the remaining fighters. “Let’s have us some fun!”

“This will be no game,” the fanatic’s expression was grim.

They exchanged blows, their blades screeching as they met again and again.

Mitsuhide shook his head. Mouri was mad, but at least that had its usefulness. At least this provided him an opening. He dodged past the remaining guards toward the shogun.

“You rush to your end,” Yoshiaki shouted. He pushed past the doors to a small balcony. It was a bare ledge with no railings. Below, the battle was slowing as men died or surrendered. Their cries were carried up to the tenshu on the cold night air.

The chatelaine went with him, the dagger still on her throat kept her still and compliant.

“If you so much as twitch, I’ll throw you to your death,” the shogun hissed at her.

Mitsuhide sheathed his sword and pulled the matchlock from his back. There wasn’t enough space on that narrow ledge to fight. In this, the tanegashima was a better choice. If his aim held true. He checked the load and primed it to fire. Then he pointed it at the shogun. “Do not move.”

The shogun pressed his knife hard against the chatelaine’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “It is you who should be careful of his movements.” He grinned, already feeling he’d won. “Now lower your rifle.”

“You can only kill her once, Yoshiaki.”

“Disarm yourself and kneel, kitsune! Do it, or I will kill her!”

Despite his words, Mitsuhide was terrified. Seeing the blood on her neck only drove home the very real possibility that she would die here, now. He would still finish his mission. The shogun would die. But his little one . . . The thought froze his limbs and stopped his heart. He told himself that Ashikaga would kill her anyway, even if he dropped the gun and knelt. Yet . . . if there was a chance that he would let her go . . .

Seeing Mitsuhide’s conflict, Yoshiaki’s smile widened. “Call off your troops and I will let the girl live. Do it, and I may even forgive you for turning against me.”

Mitsuhide didn’t move.

“Now, or must I say it louder?!”

He ignored the shogun and studied the face of his beloved little one. She saw the decision he had to make. And she understood. Without moving, she gifted him her trust. His little mouse knew the risk he was about to take and accepted it, as he must. Her bravery made his chest hurt and his throat close. But he could only honor it now by taking action.

As Mitsuhide took aim, the chatelaine lifted her hands and in a practiced motion, grabbed the shogun’s knife arm. “Now,” she shouted. She had only seconds that she could hold Ashikaga at bay.

Mitsuhide sent a prayer to whatever gods or devils may be listening, and he pulled the trigger.

The moment stretched. He saw the powder light, heard the explosion of the bullet as it left the barrel. Watched Ashikaga’s ribs buckle under the impact, and his blood stained the cloth around the wound.

“What?” The shogun looked down at himself in confusion. His grip on the knife loosened. The blade fell to the ground.

The messenger stopped fighting Motonari in the room behind them and flung himself toward Mitsuhide. There was death in his eyes. He knew he couldn’t survive this attack, but he was determined to avenge the shogun as his last living act.

Kyubei lunged forward, putting himself between Mitsuhide and the nearly dead warrior. His sword took the man in his gut, stopping him before he could so much as breathe on Akechi. The hate in the messenger’s eyes burned to emptiness as his life-blood spilled. Kyubei watched impassively until he was sure the man was really dead.

“Nice kill,” Motonari remarked. “Who’re you?”

“No one.” Kyubei gave a half smile and pulled his sword free.

Mitsuhide spared a moment to clap him on the shoulder. Their eyes met. There was much to discuss, of course, but it could wait. The shogun was dead, the chatelaine was alright, and there were yet plans to put in motion.

“Mouri, go make sure Kennyo isn’t overwhelmed. There is still fighting on the grounds below us. Everything must be calm before the shogun arrives.”

“Yer losin’ yer mind, kitsune. The shogun’s right there.” Mouri’s eyes narrowed as Yoshiaki staggered to the edge of the narrow ledge. His legs shook. His chest spasmed as he gasped for air. And then, Yoshiaki Ashikaga fell.

Mitsuhide closed the distance between him and his little mouse. He pulled her tight against him. “You are alright.”

“I know.” She snuggled closer.

“Guess I’ll leave ya two lovebirds and go see to Kennyo,” Motonari said gruffly. “Ya did good princess.”

She didn’t look up to watch him go, though Mitsuhide’s eyes followed the pirate until he was gone from sight. Then his attention was back on his little one. Her deep, shaking breaths slowed and steadied. “I hope one day, awful things like this don’t have to happen anymore.”

“As do I.” He stroked her back gently. He had wanted to insulate her from this. To protect her. But his little mouse was strong enough to see death and recover from it. She’d proven herself yet again to be his match. Here she was, injured and in shock, yet she still held strength. Though he hadn’t believed he could love her more, he felt a surge of affection for this strange, sweet woman.

A dry cough from the room behind them eventually broke their moment of peace. Kyubei, still dressed as one of the daimyo’s servants, stood beside . . . Ashikaga Yoshiaki. Or, his replacement.

“Sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering when you’d clear this place out. My room is a mess!” The shogun wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Kyubei nudged him. “The shogun would never apologize.”

“Ah, right. Interrupting you was an annoyance. How dare you embrace and not regard my entrance with the appropriate obeisance?” The shogun smiled.

Mitsuhide smiled back. “I see. My apologies to you then. Shall I kneel?”

The chatelaine looked down at the ground below for a moment as if to check that Ashikaga’s body was still there. Then she looked back up at his double. “You - who? No wait! You’re the scribe! We met you in Kyoto at the shogun’s estate.”

“Riku, at your service, princess.” The shogun bowed. “Ashikaga kept my service while he was in hiding here, and eventually brought me out to scribe for him. Just as Akechi suspected he would.”

“And you made contact with my spy as instructed, I see,” Mitsuhide smiled.

“I did. He told me your idea and, at first I wasn’t interested but -”

“I am very persuasive,” Kyubei grinned.

Riku, now the shogun’s double, nodded. “And the daimyo agreed to go along with it, provided his family was spared. So here we are.” He looked a little nervous.

“You will make an excellent shogun in exile,” Mitsuhide reassured him. “All you need do is enjoy the remaining wealth of the Ashikaga clan and stay out of Oda’s way.”

“I will,” Riku’s expression was determined, if a little pale. “It’s more than I ever could have hoped for as a mere scribe.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “I will leave you in Kyubei’s care for now. He will alert me if you need support.” His eyes fell to his little mouse. “I have more important tasks this day.”

He spared not a heartbeat more before lifting her into his arms. It felt like they’d been apart forever, though it was really only a few days. Mitsuhide carried her past the few lingering fights, and into one of the daimyo’s guest rooms. It was quieter here, though the smell of gunpowder and blood still hung on the air.

“I would take you to Kyoto, but first . . .” he brushed a finger along the edge of her jaw. Her cheek was swollen and bruised. “We must see to your injuries. What happened?”

She told him about her capture as he gently rubbed balm into her wounds. Mitsuhide could tell it stung - both the ointment and relating her capture. But he was proud of her for trying to outsmart Ashikaga’s man, and for fighting back.

“I am sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he said softly, and kissed her forehead.

She put her hand to his cheek and shook her head. “You can’t always be right beside me. I don’t expect you to be. I did my best to keep myself safe and . . . I knew if I couldn’t, that you would rescue me. And you did.”

Mitsuhide felt a sharp warmth in his eyes and realized he might cry. Her trust in him . . . he simply didn’t have words for the way it made him feel. “I love you, little one.”

“And I love you.”

Next: Tears of Joy

[starlightrows]

The Lady of The House

Pairing: Boba Fett x fem reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings and Tags: swearing, not a lot of Boba reader interaction, mostly reader just asserting her position as queen

Summary: Two guards, my original characters Tems and Rhys, have been tasked with informing crime boss Boba of an intrusion... but there’s one problem. It’s the middle of the night and he’s currently with his wife sleeping.

AN: Happy Monday! This blog is getting a bouns fic today!

“I don’t wanna go in there Rhys...” Tems said shakily. 

“The boss said he had to be informed immediately if someone was caught trying to break in to the palace, if the alarm on his ship ever tripped, or if the Mand’alor hailed him.... and all three happened over the course of 20 minutes. We have to tell him Tems!” Rhys waved off his patrol partners fretting and made for the handle on the large ornate door leading to Boba Fett’s private chambers “he will feed us to the rankor if we don’t go in there” 

“Look, you’ve only worked here for three lunar cycles. You ever wonder why there was a job open?” Tems grabbed his arm, yanking him back. The Rhys narrowed his eyes, and gave a shake of his head. “You’re all happy to point out the rules the boss has about being informed. But what is the other, number one fucking rule he has?” 

The realization struck him and his eyes went wide, he gave a silent “ohhh” 

Boba Fett’s number one rule, mostly for his business partners, but also his staff: Do not disturb the lady of the house. Boba Fett’s wife.

An unassuming woman, she was kind and gentle, slightly out of place among dangerous and somewhat violent bounty hunters and crime families that frequented the upper halls. She spent most of her days working on fixing the lower levels of the run down palace. She kept to herself, with the notable exceptions of her husband and his loyal bodyguard, Fennec Shand. The rule seemed to be, if she spoke to you, answer respectfully and do as she asks. But if you bother her, get in her way, or insult her... there would be hell to pay. 

“W-what happened to the last guy?” Rhys shifted nervously on his feet. He honestly hadn’t considered why there was a position available when he accepted the job. 

“He barred the lady from entering the throne room when the boss had guests. He didn’t know the guests were there by her request, but that doesn’t make him any less dead right now” Tems told him, looking uncomfortable at the memory. 

“Well we just won’t wake up the lady then” Rhys said “we’ll be really quiet. We’ll only wake up the boss, alright?” 

Tems still wasn’t convinced “Do we both have to go in there?” 

“You’re a fuckin’ coward,” Rhys threw up his hands in exasperation “every second we wait to go in there, the more angry he’ll be that we waited. I’m going in there, you can stand out here like a little bitch if you want to,”

Tems was tempted to throw a punch, this guy had no idea just how dangerous Boba Fett really is, or how scary he could be right after waking up. Nonetheless, he followed as his partner made for the door again. 

The heavy door swung open silently, surprising given how massive it was. The room was dark, lit dimly by the silvery light of the moon coming through the small window high up on the wall. Against the far wall, was an enormous bed where both guards could see their employer sleeping soundly with his wife tucked securely to his bare chest. 

Tems wanted to die. Every step he took deeper into these chambers felt like a step closer to a painful demise. While Rhys was excited, he had never seen any of the residential chambers of the palace. And this one was huge. 

Rhys creeped up to Boba’s side of the bed, while Tems stood awkwardly by the entrance to the chambers. As Rhys approached, reaching out to shake the bosses shoulder, Tems seriously considered making a run for it. Rhys made contact, giving the large scarred shoulder a few good shakes. 

“Sir?” Rhys attempted to whisper. Boba made no movement towards wakefulness, he just continued softly snoring. 

Your eyes flew open and a fearful gasp left your body. You backed up, trying to put distance between yourself and the supposed intruder. 

“Oh my god. No no no no. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry ma’am,” Rhys backed away, hands raised. Tems practically blacked out but stayed frozen in place. 

I’m gonna fuckin die, and it’s all that idiots fault  he thought 

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and you recognized the young guard. You drew the covers up to cover yourself, you felt exposed in your thin nightgown. 

“What are you doing here? These are private rooms” you whispered harshly 

“I-I- I have orders,” Rhys stammered, knees knocking together in fear “To-to get the boss if” Rhys lost his voice. He could not seem to get the words to come out of his mouth 

“Get out,” you whisper “Go back out there and do not move. I will be there shortly,” 

Your tone was authoritative and stern, leaving no room for questioning. Rhys practically sprinted out of the room, dragging a paralyzed Tems with him. The door slammed shut behind them, making them both cringe. 

Tems doubled over, placing his hands on his knees and heaving with labored breath. “Oh by the maker... we’re gonna die. We’re gonna fucking die. I’m gonna be sick. We’re gonna die” 

Rhys was pacing back and forth, hands gripping and pulling his own hair. “Shit shit shit shit shit.... you were right. We’re gonna die,” 

The large door swung open once more, and shut again firmly. Both men snapped their heads towards the direction of the sound of the door closing, awaiting the blaster blot that would surely end their lives. But it didn’t not come. Instead, there you stood, in a long robe tired securely about your waist, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Alright, what’s all this about then?” You asked tiredly. Neither man spoke a word, staring blankly at you. You grew annoyed, and tapped your foot impatiently. 

“Oh for heavens sake!” You exclaimed “He sleeps like the dead when he’s had a glass of wine before bed. He won’t be coming out here to throw you in the rankor pit anytime soon, but if one of you doesn’t speak up I most certainly will,” 

“The Mand’alor hailed for the boss,” Tems said quickly. 

“And the alarm on the bosses ship tripped,” Rhys choked out 

“And a scavenger was caught at the southern entrance trying to get in,” Tems added. You blinked at them in surprise. 

“That’s a lot of information to take in,” you said “Okay gentleman, first things first, has the scavenger been dealt with?”  

“Yes,” Rhys piped up

“Yes ma’am,” Tems avoided your gaze, staring meekly at his own two feet. 

“Lovely, and the ship. What tripped the alarm?” You asked, feeling slightly less angry by being awoken. If anything you felt a little bad for these two. 

“We’re not sure ma’am. The guards in the landing bay couldn’t find anything wrong with the ship, and couldn’t find any intruders,” Rhys said, taking Tems’ cue to use a respectful title when speaking to you 

“So then it can wait until morning for a follow up,” you noted “and the Mand’alor? Did he give a particular reason why he was hailing my husband?” 

“No ma’am, but he said it was important,” Tems supplied 

“Hmm, Djarin is a bit of a drama queen. But if he isn’t hailing repeatedly, or flying here himself, then I’m sure it can also wait until morning,” you mused. Rhys and Tems were visibly shaking with anxiety. 

“Well, if that’s all settled then I would love to back to bed. Goodnight gentleman,” you said turning to go. 

“My lady, I’m sorry” Rhys blurted out. You turned back to look at him. 

“For doing your job?” You asked 

“For disturbing you. For breaking the bosses cardinal rule,” he said “I should have listened to my partner. I shouldn’t have gone into your private chambers,” 

“Your job is to follow the orders you have been given. Protect this palace. And report when circumstances deem it necessary, no matter the time of day,” you stated evenly “you’ve done well. And your loyalty will not go unnoticed by my husband,” 

“Please don’t tell him,” Tems said “please don’t tell him it was us,” 

You cocked an eyebrow at him “I won’t if you truly do not want me to, but tell me why,” 

“My lady if the boss knew we came into your chambers, disrupted your sleep...” Tems shook his head “please don’t tell him my lady, I beg you” 

You heart softened, you forget sometimes how truly frightening your husband could be. And these men were genuinely afraid of his wrath. You nod gently. “You have my word,” 

“Gentleman,” you nodded quietly, slipping back through the door. 

The with door now shut, a heavy silence settled over the palace. Tems still felt violently ill, and Rhys was quite sure the boss would kick down the door any second despite the reassurances of his wife. 

“Rhys?” Tems said 

“Yeah?”

“I fucking hate you,”

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 11*

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

Alright this one is kinda short but I needed a cliffhanger, and I need to get to fifteen now. Also, I had to write the ending of this in the car and it's difficult so I ended it where I did. Plus I love watching y'all squirm. SUFFER.

----------------------

Rafael hadn’t texted you back since you told him you didn’t care whether he believed you or not, maybe he had gotten the hint and decided to leave you alone. Why didn’t that make you feel any better? You knew what you had told Sonny was true; you couldn’t be in any kind of relationship with anyone but alcohol. 

You’d never admit it to Sonny since he was so proud of you lately, but the monster inside you may be present more than you let on. It wasn’t big things that set you off sometimes, sometimes it was just one bad grade on a test, or being lonely. 

You knew you needed to reach out to someone, anyone other than Sonny. Get some friends of your own, people you could talk to. But you were too ashamed of your problems and your life to ever approach anyone. Even when students in your class would ask you to go out with them after school, you’d always decline in fear of what you might do while you were out. You could keep yourself from having more than one drink on your own, but the social pressure of being around other people drinking made you just want to keep going. And you knew where that led. Where it always led. 

You had kept the monster at bay for so long, it was exhausting most days. And now that you had fed it and let it loose, you were too tired to even try and reign it back in. So here you were, practically unable to move from being so sick from drinking fucking mouthwash rather than ride out your cravings. 

You looked up at the sky and began to pray for God to just take you right there and then, just so you would have to stop feeling like this. Not just physically ill, but completely devastated and heartbroken that the one time you had ever opened yourself to someone, opened yourself to love, the monster inside you killed it. Just like it killed everything. Now you just wanted it to kill you. You were just about to grab some pure rubbing alcohol from under your bathroom sink to drink, you knew it was lethal if you drank about a capful. You had it up to your lips when you heard a banging on your front door.

“Y/N! Y/N open this door!” 

Were you still that fucked up or was that actually Rafael banging on your door? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? You decided it was worth at least checking, if you had hallucinated it you could always come back to the bathroom. You forced yourself to stand up and hobbled towards your front door, still afraid to open it. If it really was him, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your t-shirt was covered in bright green vomit stains, your hair was messy from puking, your hadn’t checked but you figured your face was probably disgusting. 

“...I’m not home!” The words came out before your sense kicked in to tell you that was literally the most idiotic thing you could say. Clearly he’d know you were fucked up now.

“I’m not kidding! I’ll break down this door, I swear to God,” His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard him. Well, that wasn’t saying much considering you hadn’t known him that long but still. 

“Uh...okay, just a second!” You called nervously, doing your best to quickly change your shirt and fix your hair. 

You grabbed a semi clean t-shirt laying on your couch and threw your hair up in a messy ponytail, wiping the dried vomit and drool from your face. You glanced in the mirror, you looked messy but just messy enough you were pretty sure you could pull off “I’m emotionally destroyed because of you” not “I’m totally trashed and fucked in the head because of you,” You tried walking as straight as you could to the door and softly opened it a bit, not letting him inside.

“Hey…” You gave him a sheepish smile. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be mad at him? Don’t act nice now just because you’re trying to act sober. 

“I mean...that’s a pretty lively looking corpse there, counselor,” You smirked. 

“...What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d never be caught dead in Jersey?” You smirked harder. Damn, even when you were on the verge of dying you were smooth.

“Let me in,” Rafael said flatly. 

“Uh, no,” You said mockingly. 

“Let me in,” He repeated more sternly. 

“Do you have a warrant?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Dammit Y/N don’t make me shove this door open,” 

“Oh okay so now you’re threatening to break into my apartment? Why don’t you yell that a little louder, maybe my neighbor will call the cops,” You yelled at him while gesturing down the hall. 

“...Please let me in?” His voice lowered, his eyes softened. You were a sucker for those eyes, no matter how mad or worried about appearances you were.

“...Fine,” You sighed and released your hold on the door and walked away quickly to sit on the couch. You didn’t want him to realize you couldn’t stand without holding onto something. 

“Fuck, I knew it…” He muttered as he glanced around your apartment, then focused on you.

“Knew what?” You crossed your arms, playing it cool. 

“You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?” He looked at you pitifully, not livid like he was a minute ago. 

“What?” You kept your composure. “Uh, I’m sorry Rafael, do you see any empty bottles here? Any FULL bottles for that matter?” You gestured around your apartment while acting offended he would even think that.

“My dad was an alcoholic, Y/N,” He said softly which made you angrier, why was he doing this? 

“Um okay, so that has to do with me why--?”

“Tell me right now if I smelled your breath that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly ‘clean’,” He talked over you.

“....What?” You blinked, trying desperately to act oblivious. 

Fuck, why did he know that was a thing? Well, obviously he just said it. If you weren’t so angry or out of your mind right now, you’d feel absolutely terrible for being like this around him now that you knew he’d been through this before.

“So it’s a crime to have dental hygiene now?” You smarmed.

“Dammit Y/N I know what you’re doing!” Now he was getting angry again, he couldn’t stand that you weren’t taking this seriously. He couldn’t stand watching another person he cared about completely shit faced in front of him, acting as if he was the one in the wrong. 

“And what am I doing, Rafael?”

“Sonny might be naïve, but I know what it looks like when an alcoholic is hiding their drinking!” He accused you.

“God dammit…” you muttered. 

So many things were buzzing in your head at that moment. One you now felt ashamed that he was seeing you like this, two you were upset that he knew all your tricks, and finally you were somewhat happy and hopeful that he cared enough to come for you. 

“Did you have an actual reason for coming over here, or did Sonny just send you to lecture me because he’s tired of doing it?”

“...Can you drink some coffee or something?” 

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?” 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” 

“What? Oh suddenly I must be out of my mind trashed because I’m mad at you? Guess what Barba, this is 100% snarky sober me,” You lied. 

“Mad at me?” He laughed. “Why in God’s name are you mad at me?!” 

“After the way you treated me--”

“The way I treated you?!” He cut you off angrily. “I treated you with nothing but caring and respect, Y/N. Even after you sat there in my apartment throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant drunken toddler!” 

“You--” You were livid at him calling you a toddler.

“Just because Sonny told you what I usually act like towards-- lovers, doesn’t make it true with you. Did I ever, ever act like you were some ‘conquest’?” He asked you.

“...No,” You bit your lip nervously.

“Did I ever make you feel cheap, or unwanted?”

“No…” You looked at the floor.

“Didn’t I tell you that you were different, that you meant something to me?”  He gave you a sad look, as if he was crushed that you didn't believe in him.

“But how do I know that wasn’t just a line?!” You protested.

“Because I’m here!” He gestured around your apartment. 

“And why are you here?” You pressed him.

“I don’t know!” He put his hands over his head.

“...That’s not an answer,”  You crossed your arms.

“It’s the only answer I can give you, Y/N,” He finally sat down next to you on the couch. 

You curled up your knees to your chest instinctively, still trying to hide your inebriation and the smell of your breath; even though you knew it was futile at this point.

“So, you come all the way here to bang on my door and yell at me, but you have no idea why?” You continued to be defensive, trying to keep him off your scent.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? Huh?” He threw up his hands. 

“Do you want me to say it’s because I’m in love with you? Because for the first time in my life I found someone that I want to be with all the time, because you make me the happiest I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever?” 

“Uh no,” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to lie,” 

“...I’m not lying,”  He looked at you very seriously, trying to take your hand.

“Yes, you are,” You shook your head and pulled away from him. “In fact I know exactly why you’re here,”

“....What is happening right now?” Rafael asked himself softly. He had just sat there and poured out his heart to you, and you were dismissing him completely. This is exactly why he should have just let you be.

“What’s happening, is that you-- you feel bad that you couldn’t... I don’t know, ‘deal’ with your Daddy issues," You air quoted Daddy, making him shift uncomfortably.

"That is so--" He tried denying it.

"True?" You gave him a look. "Let me guess, you couldn't 'save' him as a kid, right?"

"...That wasn't on me," He muttered, looking at the floor.

"You don't believe that," you scoffed. "I know you don't."

"And how do you know that?" He looked at you skeptically.

"Because I feel like I failed my parents, and they were the shittiest people on earth!" You exclaimed.

"How did you fail them? You weren't even--"

"By being born, Raff," You clarified.

"Carino, don't--"

"Look, my point is you've got this 'white knight syndrome', but you know what I learned? You can't save everyone, so you shouldn't even try,"

"That's a great philosophy," he scoffed. "So you don't even try?'

"Oh fuck off," You rolled your eyes. "I can't even save myself, let alone anyone else,"

"That's not true," he protested. "You saved me,"

"Oh my god," you made a fake gagging noise. "You're just saying that so it'll appease some kind of guilt,"

"I have zero to feel guilty about," he shook his head. For some reason that made you even angrier. 

"Alright well good! So you can leave,"  You pointed towards the door.

"No I'm not leaving, not until you acknowledge what I said," He crossed his arms.

"What? About you being in love with me?" You scoffed. "I told you that's a load of shit."

"And why do you say that?" He asked.

"For one, because you don't fall in love with someone just because they're good in bed," you gave him a look.

"That's not why--"

"And for two, nobody can be in love with a monster," You finished over him.

"You're not a monster--" he tried pulling you towards him but you stood up.

"Yes I am!" You screamed.

Well that was a bad idea. All of a sudden it was as if the chemicals from the mouthwash were sizzling around your insides. You doubled over in pain, the room was going dark. 

"Y/N? Oh my god, baby hold on--" he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while he dialed 911.

"It's okay, you're okay...just...just hold on, please…" he pleaded with you while stoking your hair and kissing the top of your head, gripping you as if you were going to disappear if he let up.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

[allygodot]

Taking Accountability

My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee. I’m a 27 years old graduate of Chicago Law School living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am a heterosexual Christian, but am an ally to the LGBT community. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. These are all things my followers should know about me, so why am I telling you this? Well... what if I told you it was all a lie? I’m sure this is coming as a shock to a lot of you, and I sincerely apologize to everyone I’ve hurt with my deception. It is my hope that this post will clear up any misconceptions that have been spread about me, whether I spread them myself or otherwise, and that in the future there will be no animosity between us. I don’t expect to be forgiven nor do I deserve it, but if there is one thing I learned from my time in the church it is that all I can do is ask for mercy and hope for the best. But first... I think an explanation is in order. If all that isn’t the truth, then what is? It all starts in college, that nebulous period of my life that everyone keeps asking about and I keep bringing up. Before I went to university, I had always been completely unremarkable. I had always had the kind of fair weather friends who enjoyed my company, but never felt to invested in me. Combined with my status as a middle child, I always felt like I had something to prove to get people to like me. I would say and think whatever I needed to for them to stick around another day, and I’m sure you are familiar with what that means for teenage boys. I acted immaturely because it was what was expected... and anything outside of that was looked down upon it even forbidden. I never thought much of it at the time, but I realize now that I wasn’t allowed much self-expression when I was always trying to conform to their standards. Everything changed when I met him. My assigned college roommate, Anton, was everything my years of conditioning had taught me to distrust. Despite his tall stature, he was emotional and sensitive... even vulnerable. Even so, he wasn’t afraid to be unabashedly himself. The first thing that struck me as unusual about him was his clothing... he almost always wore pastel pink or yellow and I hardly ever saw him without his long, checkered scarf. His nails were always painted with a clear, glittery polish, and I don’t think he ever skipped a shower in his life. His hair was always soft and smelled like strawberry even at a distance... all this to say he immediately struck me as fruity so I wanted nothing to do with him, at least initially. Despite his kindness to me, I would always respond with either the cold shoulder or open scorn, which only amplified the more I learned about him. I discovered pretty quickly that he was a furry, since one day I came home from a day of classes to find a decapitated pink cat head on our couch. He patiently explained the whole culture to me while I glared at him skeptically, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He even brought out his paws and tail and told me he was saving up for a full suit despite my open disgust. Looking back, I still have no clue why he put up with me during that time. Another curious aspect of Anton’s life was his addiction to a certain television series called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” His room was filled with merchandise from stuffed animals to figurines, and I had nothing but disdain for the tacky and embarrassing decoration. I was afraid that if I ever brought a girl over to our apartment she would notice and make all sorts of incorrect assumptions... I couldn’t handle the embarrassment. I tried on multiple occasions to convince him to hide them in a secret box or something, but he always just smiled and shook his head. I even tried to sneak into his room and collect all the ponies for donation once, but he had anticipated this and hid a playful trap for me... I reached forward to grab one of his overpriced statues and immediately got a face full of multi-colored snakes. I was livid of course, despite it being my own fault for trying to pawn of his collection in the first place, but he wasn’t even phased by my tirade. I suppose he was 6’5” and I was (and still am) only 5′7″... but still, I had at least expected him to be somewhat apologetic if not fearful. Instead, he just laughed and told me I should watch the show with him sometime. I obviously had no intentions of taking him up on his ludicrous offer... until he promised that if I didn’t enjoy the show, he would move all of his ponies into a case that he would throw a big curtain on whenever I said the word. I reluctantly agreed on those conditions, positive that this was a bet I couldn’t lose. I still remember that night like it was yesterday. He lead me into the pony chamber and sat down on his bed, taking out his laptop to pull up his favorite episode. It was “The Canterlot Wedding” two part season finale, and although I initially protested that I only agreed to watch one episode, I eventually relented once he reminded me what the prize was. I was hesitant to sit beside him on his bed and lean over his shoulder to look at the small screen, but he assured me that it didn’t bother him at all. I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he felt about it... it was more so my own pride I was worried about. Nevertheless, I sat through the whole episode with him despite myself. Although I was disturbed by the tendency for his long and curly hair to gravitate into my mouth while I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I found the episode to be surprisingly enjoyable. The song in particular surprised me with it’s musicality... by the end of it I didn’t want to leave, but I was far too embarrassed to admit that to him earnestly. I told him I was interested in the show purely for the songs and that it could benefit my studies as a music major, but that he still had to uphold his end of the bargain since I was by no means enjoying it. He just smiled and put on another episode, and before I knew it the sun was rising outside his window. I realized just how tired I was and turned to tell him I would be going to bed only to discover he had fallen asleep. I began to suspect that he must have been asleep for several hours, letting the auto-play functionality do his job for him while he rested up for his exams. Although I was scandalized, I was impressed by his tactical prowess... he had managed to trap me in his room, since I couldn’t move from my spot without disturbing his slumber, and he didn’t even have to be awake to do it. Begrudgingly, I spent the rest of his room, until eventually the faint aroma of strawberries lured me into the world of dreams... This arrangement continued for quite some time. When I got home from my classes, Anton would ask me if I wanted to watch some My Little Pony with him and I only agreed so long as he put the curtain over the cabinet next time I asked. He always obliged whenever I asked him to conceal his collection, but eventually I stopped asking for him to do so and only reminded him not to break our contract before every episode out of habit. It became a ritual for the two of us to do this every night, and even once we had finished all of the episodes we would just watch them again. I found that I was becoming endeared to this eccentric man... and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell a bit in my chest whenever he would run his fingers through his hair or tighten his scarf around his neck. I told myself it was nothing... but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. I don’t know what possessed me, but one night I thought I would get to know Anton a little better. I started by asking if he was single, which to me seemed like an innocuous question, but the very fact I was asking seemed to amuse him. He told me that he was having trouble finding a guy who wasn’t immediately turned off by all the ponies, and I made sure to snidely comment that he shouldn’t be going out with guys anyway even though it made my heart skip a beat when he said that, as well as mention that if he would just give up his collection there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he asked me the same thing: how was my love life going, especially considering my new hobby? I couldn’t help but get flustered and start making excuses. I told him that there was no shortage of girls lined up to date me, but that I just wasn’t ready to make a commitment yet. I spun a whole story about how a girlfriend would only hold me back... I almost forgot that the standard that Anton accepted was completely different from my old teenage friends. He wasn’t impressed that girls were apparently lining up to get a piece of me... he just seemed amused that I thought such a thing was realistic, much less desirable. He didn’t understand that compulsive need to lie at all... he thought it would be better if more guys admitted that they were vulnerable. That was the first time I’d ever heard someone say something like that... I suddenly felt extremely exposed, and before I knew it my eyes were full of tears. My first instinct was to cover my face with my sleeve and hide my shame, but he was already firmly gripping my arm and holding it in place. He told me that I didn’t need to hide anything from him. He asked me if there was anything he could do to help me... and so for what felt like the first time in my life, I told the truth. It was supposed to be just to try it. I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, I just thought that if I got it out of my system all of the unnecessary feelings would finally stop tormenting me... but all they did was grow stronger. I kept telling him that I was still looking for a girlfriend and that once I got one this whole arrangement would end, but eventually I realized that there was no point in lying to myself anymore. I wasn’t ever even sleeping in my own room anymore. I hadn’t so much as glanced at any dating websites in weeks. I was committed, whether I wanted to admit it or not... and I didn’t want to admit it. I only wish that I had told him how I really felt when I had the chance... One of the many things we started to share, which seemed the most inconsequential to me at the time, was a webpage. Anton was the owner of a small subreddit dedicated to My Little Pony fursuits, and he asked me if I would be willing to help him moderate. It wasn’t something I felt qualified to speak as an authority on, since even as I became more open about my love for ponies I still didn’t really feel connected to furry culture despite accompanying him to several conventions, but I was willing to do basically anything just to please him. My job was mostly to stop people from publicly “yiffing,” and although it was a grueling line of work it wasn’t thankless. Anton was a poet with words of affirmation. Many of the compliments he paid me were certainly undeserved, but they motivated me more than anything else ever had... but I got too zealous. There was a certain user on the server who for the sake of protecting privacy, we shall call XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX. As a member of the subreddit they were of course a brony and a furry, but what made them stand out was their dedication to the Flutterdash ship. They were constantly posting couple’s cosplays of themselves dressed as Rainbow Dash, but the Fluttershy in each picture was always different. They were also exceptionally sociable and aggressively tried to make friends with everyone on the tiny subreddit... Anton and I included. I wasn’t so keen on pursuing another friendship that could very well ruin my reputation, but of course Anton was immediately taken with the idea. The two of them exchanged contacts and hit it off instantly, and I started having trouble sleeping at night because he was awake in the early hours of the morning texting his friend in another timezone. He always paid me just as much attention as always during the daytime, but once he saw that his new friend was online he would crawl out of bed to go converse with them in another room. He was trying so hard to be considerate of me, and perhaps it was selfish for me to expect that I would always be able to sense his warmth and scent beside me while I slept... but at the time I was blinded by jealousy. One fateful morning, he excitedly woke me up to tell me that XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX had gifted him tickets to a major convention, and that the two of them were planning to cosplay Flutterdash together. He apologetically explained that he would be gone for a few days since the convention was halfway across the country, but sensing the disturbance within me he assured me that he could probably convince his friend to let me tag along as Applejack... she was always my least favorite. It didn’t matter what Anton said to encourage me, because I was never going to accept any consolation until this threat to our sacred relationship was eliminated. I had to find a way to get rid of XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX by any means necessary... In a fit of rage, I whipped out the ban hammer and beat my rival to death with it, metaphorically speaking. It was a blatant abuse of my privilege as a moderator and I am ashamed to admit it now... but at the time all that mattered was covering up the evidence. I knew I had to come up with an excuse for why I had banned them, so I added a new rule to the subreddit: Flutterdash was prohibited. The news was not met with acceptance from the other members of the community. To some more in the loop with the situation, it was obvious that I had only banned XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX because of a petty personal dispute, but others saw it as nothing but an unfair rule. I was accused of being biased towards other ships like Flutterchord or Appledash and that I needed to accept other people’s ship preferences, or even that I was homophobic and couldn’t handle the thought of lesbian characters in my favorite show. Chants of “mods are gay” could be heard across the subreddit from all sides of the debate, and everyone was rallying for Anton to remove me as a tyrannical moderator. Sound familiar? I can’t help but notice some similarities between my situation and Mo the one over at Kristahlia Week... maybe that is why the drama captivated me so.  Anton tried to reason with me, bless his heart, but at this point I had completely devolved back into my screaming teenager mentality to cope with all the rejection. He was obviously disappointed in me for what I had done but he had no reason to believe it would ruin us... he couldn’t have handled it better. It really was my fault that things happened the way they did, but I refused to take accountability. What I told him still haunts my conscience to this day, even six years later. I told him that I never loved him, and that I was only using his companionship to fulfill my carnal desires. I told him that I didn’t care about what he did with his life as long as he didn’t do anything that kept him away from me. I even told him that I still thought he was disgusting and embarrassing. And the worst thing is... in that moment I meant every word. I was so selfish... I genuinely forgot that I loved him and treated him like he only existed to serve me. My actions were truly despicable and I deserved to suffer for it... and I did. For the first time, I saw Anton cry. I should have been there to comfort him like he did for me on that fateful night, but instead I let him run out of the house to go suffer by himself. By the time I realized how horrible I was acting, it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. I came home the next day to discover all the ponies in the apartment finally gone... isn’t that what I had wanted? My moderator status on the subreddit had been stripped away, and I had been banned by all of the members of the group on nearly every social media platform. Another classmate later informed me that Anton had transferred to a different college... and that was the end. I have no idea what happened to him after that, but I can only hope he is doing well. Instead of taking this as an omen that I should improve my behavior, I began to become even more bitter than I was before I met Anton. I acted like my relationship with him was just an experimental phase that was doomed to fail from the start, and soon I was denying that it ever even happened at all. I convinced myself that the problem in our relationship was that I wasn’t supposed to be with men, and so I began to insist that I was straight and aggressively seek out relationships with women just to prove it to myself. I also started searching for strict moral codes that could give direction to my life... which is when I found the Church. I was attracted to their beliefs because they gave a very clear outline for how someone’s life should go and promised ultimate happiness to anyone who could fulfill the requirements, so I began to obsess over meeting those requirements. I wanted a Christian wife that could bear me many children not because that is how I wanted to live my life, but because that is how other people wanted me to live my life... and all I wanted was for others to tell me I was doing something right. The congregation was distrusting if me at first, and although they never said it to my face I know it was because they were aware of my past. Hardly a woman would come near me, and looking back on it I can’t say I blame them. The ones who were desperate enough for a husband to give me a shot were quirky repulsed by my egotistical behavior, which certainly didn’t help my reputation. Throughout all this, I still somehow told myself I was the victim because I didn’t want to admit that I had become the villain again. For a long time, the only person in the parish who would willingly hold a conversation with me was Lana. She was a fellow member of the choir and a devout believer in God, but she was often judged by the rest of the congregation for being an open lesbian despite her faith. She tried to convince me on several occasions that I didn’t have to perform any sort of identity to impress anyone and that I should “just be myself,” but I insisted that I knew what I was talking about. Eventually, she decided my well-being wasn’t her responsibility and gave up on trying to reason with me, but nonetheless she still treated me more kindly then many of the other churchgoers. I believe that my “dark past” is what drew Gabriella to me in the first place. She likely hoped that we could act as covers for each other until she figured some way out of her situation, but unfortunately I was too far gone to be of any help. I convinced myself that she was really in love with me and that she would be walking down the aisle soon enough. Whether or not I was really interested in her or just interested in what she represented I’m still not sure... but she truly was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have to suffer through my baggage. When she left me I was truly devastated... so much so that I even began to go through another crisis of belief that I recorded on this very blog. All I have to add is that I no longer bear any resentment towards Lana or Gabriella, and only wish them the best of luck. My relationship with Krissy began almost immediately after my breakup with Gabriella. I was desperate to regain the status I supposed that I had lost along with my girlfriend, so I latched onto the first woman who showed me any sort of positive attention. Her death and my downward spiral are all well-documented on this blog. I didn’t want to blame myself for her passing as well, so I developed a conspiracy to rationalize the whole ordeal. I even tried to act like a completely different person to try to keep the blame as mentally distant from myself as possible, but that didn’t work either. In the end, this is my cross to bear alone. So that brings us to now. What will become of allygodot? The truth is, I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t think that is the most important thing right now. I realized last night when I was looking at that art of Diego and Godot as Happy Tree Friends characters that I desperately wanted to be anyone other than myself... it really opened my eyes to the level of repression that had been burdening me since the incident six years ago. I realized that if I wanted to change, sitting around and thinking about how things could hypothetically be different isn’t going to do anything. If I want to make progress and truly become a better person, I’m going to have to act better, not just tell myself that I am. From now on, I will be defining myself on my actions and not my beliefs, as wise man once said. I hope that soon, I will have become a good enough person to meet Anton face to face again... I still love him after all these years, and even though I expect that he justifiably won’t want anything to do with me anymore, I still think that it is a guilt that needs to be resolved. If I ever come back to this blog, it’ll be as a different Adam to the one you thought that you knew. It’ll be as the Adam I’m trying to become... the true Adam that I know exists deep within me... Not allygodot, but as proudgodot. My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee or Godot. I’m a 27 years old former music student living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am bisexual. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Saved

Summary- 2.6k Bucky x You. Based on a ASK from anon-Hella Bi Bitch. Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort. Angst/Fluff. Also written for @jtargaryen18​ 4k Challenge. 

“Sweetheart. They are not coming.” Brock leered over your face, his hot breath washing over you, and it was almost impossible to miss the leer in his brown eyes as he cupped your face. If you had the capabilities, you would jerk away, but you were strapped down. All over, even your head was strapped flush to the hard metal table. The only thing you would do that would be satisfactory was work your mouth, draw up that last bit of spittle you had left and spat at him, making him curse while jerking back. 

It would be worth the pain he would cause next, knowing that at least he couldn't break you, just tie you down. Captain would be here soon, Iron Man, Natasha, Bucky… someone, someone would come for you. 

Brock retaliated by slamming an open palm across your face, biting back a cry, a burst of blood interrupted from your nose, racing down your face. 

As parched as you were, you welcomed the hot iron taste swarming your mouth, even through the pain. 

“Rumlow! You will step away from the girl. We need her.” 

Dread filled you as his face went from rage, to a cold smirk, pulling away from you. “Don't worry sweetheart, once they are done breaking you, you and I are going to do great things.” 

Your eyes flickered to the Hydra Agent, laying out his supplies, tools of pain and vials of poison to flood your system. Nauseated, you looked back up to the ceiling, and squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut. Tears welled up, you would probably be gone, dead before the team would find you. It was what you hoped for now. 

You would rather die then let them turn you evil. Wasn't there a saying? You either die a hero or turn into a villian. You prayed, prayed for death instead. 

A year you were tested on, preyed on until you became a shell. Moved from base to base, handled by various people. None had a shred of kindness, and Brock especially took joy in your torture. 

He was able to use the various instruments, had access to your cell whenever he wanted. Your personal bodyguard, your personal hell. In these times you sink away from yourself, your body started to work on their command, your mind an empty shell of your former self. Intelligent? Yes, but yourself, no. 

It wasn't complete yet, there was still a shred of you left. Holding on, barely. 

Your rescue happened one sunny afternoon, but you weren't to ever know this. You were deep underground, away from air and light. They had just dumped you in your cell when there coms went off. To weak to pay attention to the Hydra agents fear as they hurriedly locked you in, you crawled to your cot and folded yourself onto it. Another day of survived hell. Squeezing your eyes shut, you really just wished for it to end. At this point in any manner. So much pain. To much.

Alone for a while, you start to drift off into nothingness when metal on metal jolted you awake with a terrified whimper. You heard the clang on your bars and lifted your head up to see Bucky trying to see who was curled up on the cot. 

“B-b-bucky?” You eased up slowly to make sure you weren't seeing things, and then right next to him Steve stepped up, flipping his shield to hang on his back. 

“Doll, we finally found you.” Bucky exclaimed with relief, grasping the bars and wrenching them as hard as he could, the metal whining in protest, but it wasn't strong enough to hold him back from what he wanted. 

Steve kept a watch of Bucky's six, speaking into the com at his ear. “We got her, Bucky is collecting Y/N now, have the jet ready Clint. Nat, you just about done? Sam, cover us when we come up."

“Five more seconds and data is secure, Tony can blow this hell hole to dust.” 

Bucky's arm went around you for support as you went to stand, sore from earlier, he saw you hobble forward and he swept you up. 

“Just faster this way Doll, come on Steve. Before Stark gets trigger happy.” Bolting for the nearest set of stairs, everything became a blur as Bucky and Steve bolted from the building. Hiding your face in Buckys shoulder, you never did see that sunny afternoon. 

A shadow passed over Bucky and Steve bolting across the ground, and when you glanced up, lifting your head off Buckys shoulder, the flash of red and silver covered out the blue sky above, and you smiled to yourself, between Sam, Steve and Bucky, you were safe. Exhaustion dipped your head back to Buckys shoulder.

It wasn't long till you were back at Stark Towers, which hadn't been your home in a year. Bucky carried you down into the medic bay with Sam close by. The rest of the team went to debrief on the mission, knowing you were taken cared of. Bucky easily set you down on the table, hovering nearby, he seemed hesitant to leave you, you who were so quiet, so shut down. Sam hovered close by, his jaw clenched. Quiet at well. Not knowing what to say or do, You just stared at the floor till Bruce came in. 

“Give us some privacy Bucky? I need to give her a full examination.” Bruce said softly, and your eyes welled up with tears, hiding away from them both. Bucky shook his head in refusal. “I'm not leaving her alone.” 

“Okay, but on the other side of the curtain, if Y/N needs you, she will call you.” Bruce looked over at you to confirm that was okay, and you nodded, still unable to look at any of them. Your shame and fear pounding at you. Sam clasped Buckys forearm, nodding his head to the door. "We will just be on the other side." When Bucky stepped on the other side, you could see the worried look flashing across his face, somewhat in recgonition to your pain. Sam gave you a slight nod, and a smile of encouragement.

Why couldnt you be stronger? 

The start of your recovery was rough, locked in your room a lot. It took some time for you to open back up to the team. Bring a sense of normalcy to you again. Your normal for the past year has been to be tortured. Everyday life was a lot. Things so simple, like going to get a glass of water, took all your willpower to do. The team, they did everything they could to make it easier.  Natasha and Clint immediately made you a part of their movie nights. At first you would sit stiffly away from them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. But soon you loosened up. Curling up against Clint while his arm draped over you, your feet in Natasha’s lap while she painted your nails. “How are the nightmares Y/N?” Natasha would ask, and you could feel Clint tighten his arm around you slightly, listening. It was no secret, your nightmares were a nightly occurrence, often waking up screaming and trying to hide somewhere in the room. 

“They are fine, fewer and fewer every day.” You lied, covering your shame. 

Steve, you often went with Steve out for walks where he would find some subject to draw. You would lay in the sun, while your friend sketched away at some piece of nearby building, sometimes a landscape. Once he even did you while you were sitting a bit away, catching your profile watching the clouds above. Often you two would sit in easy silence, not needing to have long intense conversations, you were just happy to be with your friend. Once in a while you would ask him. “Steve, you think I can join the team soon?” 

The blonde man would hum, and his blue eyes would shift over towards you a moment before going back to his paper. “Y/N, don't rush it. You were there for a year. I'm not putting you in the field before you're ready. Here, what do you think?” He would flip his pad around and of course it was his way of saying, No. Not Now. Maybe not ever.

Sam often had you over to his apartment to help with meals. You figured it was to make sure you were eating properly. At least one square meal. When you asked him, he scoffed. "Actually taking these cooking classes, I make enough for two. Lets face it, your better company then I could ask for. Besides Steve and Bucky are not adventurous like you. They wanna boil everything." Sam snorted, stiring his jambalaya. "Chop this up." He said quickly, handing you a knife. You always felt safer with something, Sam noticed this the first time you joined him, and you flinched when he drew out a butchers blade. From then on, you were set on chopping duties. You began to really look forward to cooking nights with Sam.

"No girlfriends to have cooking dates with?" You would tease when you set to chopping and Sam would give you that grin of his.

"Sure, I just test them on you first Precious. Gotts make sure they are decent enough to feed to others."

"Yea, I'm real Precious if your using me as a gineau pig." You stick your tongue out st your friend, but secretly you don't mind.

Tony, he was more energetic. Often you would be sitting down in his workshop, laughing at his attempts to improve the Ironman suit. It became a habit to keep a fire extinguisher nearby. “Tony, I don't think you should try this.” You said warily as he put on his new thruster boots. “Aww come on, what's the worst that can happen?” He grinned, and winked. 

He ended up shooting around the room like a balloon just untied, crashing into walls and bouncing off the floor. When he finally came to a stop, his feet were on fire. 

Jumping down with the extinguisher, you yelled “Tony!” and covered him with the foam, once it ended and the billionaire blinked it away, swiping the foam off his face. 

“I had it under control Y/N.” 

“Sure you did.” You squirted him one last time to retaliate before putting it away, and holding your hand out to him, helping him up. 

“Payback Y/N, payback.” Tony glared before pulling you into a hug, getting you covered to. At first it was fine, until you didnt feel Tony anymore and you struggled. Tony immediately let go, and you covered your face in shame. “Im sorry, I'm so sorry Tony.” He shook his head and gently grasped your wrist just enough to uncover your face. “Y/N, it's okay to feel like that. I should have asked first.” You gave an apologetic smile and he winked. The good thing with Tony was that he moved on from your attacks like they never happened, and for that you were forever grateful to your friend.

Bucky, he was the only one that you would find wandering late at night, like you were. When everyone else was fast asleep, you would be pacing the tower, afraid of sleep. It would happen, eventually. Your body would give into its demands, and you would go under into your nightmares. But until that happened though, you found ways to distract yourself. Sometimes it was video games on mute, you would bake muffins for the teams breakfast, get lost in Tony's library he allowed you access to. It was in these wanderings you found Bucky, bumping into him in random places. 

Eventually you two started to really get to know each other. Your late nights would be spent together. You opened up more and more, talking about what Hydra and Brock did to you during that year, Bucky making similar confessions while you two sat outside, away from the confines of the building. Quite a few times you both watched the sun start to come up far off to the east, and Bucky's arm would settle over you while your head tipped onto his shoulder. 

“Buck, I don't know if I will ever just be okay. Steve doesn't seem to think so.” 

“Doll, I came back from it.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, giving a half smile. 

“Your stronger than me.” 

His brow arched as he looked down at you. “That's not true. I had help, Steve, Shuri. I could have never done it alone. Why I know you will come back from this. Your not alone.” 

It gave you something to think about the rest of that day. 

You were so tired after two days going, you couldn't help but pass out, exhausted. You fell into bed in your sleep shorts and a tank, curling up while the world faded away. 

The nightmares though, flashbacks of all those times you were helpless, unable to fight back and could do nothing more than hold back your screams. It never helped, they still fell from you till you were horse from it, rolling from your bed as visions of various doctors plagued you, Hydra Agents beating on you, and Brock he was always in the darkness, watching with anticipation. When he would finally step from the shadows, you knew it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was hell. It was what sent you hiding while you were still sleeping. 

This night the jarring motion falling from your bed woke you, before Brock could get to you. Covering your head, you sobbed into your knees, so completely at a loss of how to fix yourself. Your shoulders shook, and you huddled there on the floor for a moment till your legs and back started to ache from being hunched over. Sniffling, you grasp the side of your bed and pull yourself to sit on the edge, wiping the tears from your face. The room felt cold. Reminiscent of your time with Hydra. No warmth, dark shadows stretching like they were reaching to claim you, in which you withdraw your feet off the floor, trying to talk yourself through what you felt was another oncoming panic attack. You had to get out of there, there was no way you could sleep in here tonight. 

Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, you edge around your bed, trying not to let yourself get psyched out that Brock might be hiding in your room, he wasn't. He couldn't. It was impossible to break into Stark Towers, right? Into the living room you went, looking over your shoulder at what was your bedroom. Even your couch felt too close to the memories. 

It wasn't even a thought, you eased into the hallway and started down familiar doors. Steve, Natasha, Wanda… when you paused in front of one. It had no special markings, nothing to signify to any other that it was a special door, but for you it was. Hesitating for a second, you reached out and gave a quick rap of the knuckles, waiting. 

Bucky heard it, that quick knock knock. He never slept deeply, always aware of his surroundings, years of training and his own deep rooted fears that something was going to happen. When he opened his door to you, the blanket you had on you just about swallowed you, and your face peeked out, red rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. He knew you had been crying, were about to start crying as you were standing there. Bucky stepped back to let you in. 

“Sorry Bucky, I just… don't want to be in my apartment tonight.” Your head dropped as you stepped in, and he softly shut the door behind you. 

Standing there for a moment, you didn't know where to go from there, and he stepped in closer, encircling his arms around your cocooned blanket and you could feel the rush of a sob squeaking from you, pressing in against his t shirt. Bucky tucked you in close, feeling his own eyes prick with tears feeling you break in his arms, your shoulders shaking and even the blanket couldn't seem to keep you feeling safe now. But his arms did. They were strong and hard, encircling you. “Come on Doll, your exhausted I can feel it.” 

You didn't struggle as he led you down the small hallway to the back bedrooms, and  expected him to put you in a guest room that you knew all these apartments had. But he didn't. 

He brought you right into his room, and sat you on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you okay unwrapping from this?” He questioned, his hands resting on the blanket where you clutched it around you like a protective shield. You sniffled and dried your face on it momentarily before nodding, letting your grip go. He eased it off, and folded it. Resting at the end should you want it back. 

“Give me two seconds Doll.” He disappeared into his closet and with the door half shut, pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers, and switched out his tear wet shirt for a dry one. When he came back out, you were right where he left you, feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and your fingers clasped in your lap. When he came around and stretched out, half propped up on pillows, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you leave the light on Buck? Just a little bit?” 

“Of course Y/N. '' Reaching to the lamp, he turned it on a softer setting and saw you visibly relax your shoulders as you looked around, and could still see all the corners of the room. Pushing back to get in the bed, you tucked yourself in against your friend's side, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“They must have been pretty bad this time.” Bucky said as he lifted a blanket over the two of you, and you nodded. “I kept seeing Him in the dark, coming for me.” Bucky was well aware who you were talking about, having shared with him before some that had happened to you. You lifted Bucky's arm and placed it around your shoulder, his palm pressing against your arm and tucking you in closer, dropping the softest of kisses on top of your head. “Even when I was awake, it was like he was just out of sight, waiting for me to drop my guard.” 

“We won't let him get to you Doll, not again.” 

There was a soft shuffle of blankets as you got comfier against him, and your arm locked around his middle, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

“I know Buck, that's why I came to you.” 

[unstoppableforcce]

what kind of day has it been

—PROLOGUE: in the shadow of two gunmen

pairing: Poe Dameron x f! CMO! reader

masterlist | how wonderful | next part

a/n: this is just 1.5k, just a little prologue bc an 8k first part seemed like a lot. this is my west wing piece taking place within the how wonderful universe, i know it's been a while since i've written anything how wonderful or really for Poe at all but i'm so excited for this !!

you can read the rest of the how wonderful universe on my masterlist but it's not necessary for this fic beyond understanding the reader is the chief medical officer and that things tend to get a bit brutal for these two

There is no warning.

No red flashing light blinking on the dash. No proximity alert blaring in his ears. No echoing alarm shuddering through his chest. Nothing.

When things go wrong on the ground, they just do. There is no warning.

One minute, the roar of the crowd is all he can hear. The next minute, he can feel the screams surrounding him, vibrating in his chest as the sharp slice of the first blaster shot rings in his ears. One minute, he’s watching you up ahead, your smile stretching your lips as Leia holds you close to her side, basking in the vibrant afterglow of a recruitment speech gone well. The next minute, his eyes are peeled, scanning every face cowering in cover, every set of shoulders running away from the chaos, unable to find your figure anywhere amongst the panic.

Scorching shots of red blaster fire rained down around the plaza and screams quickly became all he could hear as bodies hit the ground. Body after body after body…

The General’s security had the shooters down in seconds, practiced precision making them some of the quickest shots in the whole of the resistance, but it wasn’t fast enough. None of it was fast enough.

“We need help over here.”

One minute, there’s a warmth blossoming in his chest as the welcoming cheers seem never ending. The General had always been a commanding speaker, but this speech was like no other, the crowd was buzzing with a passionate heat and the energy was unlike anything he had felt before as they moved through the thick of it, back to the ships. The next minute, all he could feel was cold. A taunting shiver ran down his spine as he spun around the empty plaza that remained, too many bodies lying dead on the ground where there used to be overflowing life. A frigid breeze swept across the plaza, hitting his vulnerable form as he pulled himself from cover.

One minute. Then the next.

The frantic voice repeated, “We need some help over here.” It took far too long to recognize the voice. With fear lacing every word and shaking the timbre of the tone, even the voice he knew the best was foreign.

One minute.

Leia had grabbed you by the arm as an excuse to help her stand and kept you close as the two of you moved through the crowd together. As appreciation and celebration poured in, she wanted you to be standing in the middle of it, she wanted you to get your fair share. Her careful touch lifted your chin as you tried to hide your bashful smile in her shoulder, you were the reason the Resistance had made it this far and she wanted the galaxy to see what she saw.

The next minute.

Her voice called again, a desperate plea for help that seemed impossible falling from her lips. The General didn’t beg, she didn’t plead. She was a fighter and there wasn’t a single thing in the galaxy she feared.

But again she called, sickening fear dripping from her tongue. “Help! We need help over here!”

One minute. He could see you through the crowd, just a bit ahead of where he walked with his rambunctious bunch of pilots. The next minute. He could see your feet, just the bottoms of your boots, the frantic crowd hovering over where you laid too dense to see through.

He fought for every step, his legs losing any strength the sudden adrenaline burst had provided him. Someone tried to grab his shoulders, maybe to steady him, maybe to hold him back, it didn’t make much of a difference, he blew past them without second thought. He only had one thought.

“Babe, what— what— are you—”

“Dameron—”

“Get your hands off— baby, talk to me—“

“Commander Dameron—”

Through the bend in one arm and over the shoulder of another, he saw blood. Snap tried to grab him this time, but there was no stopping him. Another step forward and he could see it all, the brutal wound left in your shoulder, the violent burn across your thigh, the blood on your face, the useless hands all over you making no difference at all. It was bad. Not just because it was you, it was just bad. Your brutalized body was torn to shreds where the shots hit you and every other inch of you was drenched in blood.

“Medic!” one of them called back over their shoulder with his hands pressed into your shoulder, everyone else knew better than to waste their breath.

You were the only medic they brought. You were the only doctor they ever needed.

“Dameron, you can’t—“

Either the strength was back in his legs or he just couldn’t feel the surging exhaustion anymore, he blew past any attempts to hold him back and fought his way to your side, reaching a careful, trembling hand to your cheek as your eyes fluttered in and out of painful consciousness. The words escaping his mouth didn’t even feel like his, he didn’t know where he found the breath, it was just all he could do. “We have to move her.”

“Poe—”

“Back to the ships, we have to get her back to base.”

No one wanted to answer. No one wanted to watch.

“There’s a— a base, a New Republic base on Bothawui.” He watched your mouth open but no sound came out, a scream too muted to even make it to your throat. “That’s not far, we can make it.”

No one wanted to tell him otherwise, despite what each of them seemed to know, what Poe refused to accept.

“You heard the Commander,” Leia’s voice was even weaker now as an obvious set of tears began dropping down her cheeks. “She’s a fighter. We have to move her.”

No one could argue with her.

One minute. He was watching you smile. The next. He was watching Snap carry your lifeless form in his arms as the group of distraught soldiers and pilots alike rushed back to the parked ships up ahead. The next. He was cradling your head as the soldiers did what they could to patch you up for the trip. The next. He was wiping the blood off your cheek as your sunken eyes watched him, your blood-spattered lips forming weakly around words that you lacked the strength to voice.

“I’m right here, Baby, I’m right here.”

“P-P-P-Poe...”

“It’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“The Gen… you… she… we have to…”

The first of his tears began to drip from his nose and chin, hitting gentle against your forehead as your chest choked around your words. There was so much blood, so much pain. “Shhh, it’s okay, Baby. It’s okay, I promise.”

“We have to…”

His brow furrowed as his thumb settled on the dip between your chin and bottom lip. “Baby, I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

“No…”

“It’s okay. Don’t try to talk.” His head shook, and seconds later, he felt the ship do the same. For being such a quick flight, it was the longest of his life. “We’re close, it’s gonna be okay, don’t worry.”

Anyone sitting around the two of you would argue otherwise. Anyone who could see you would say there was no med bay in the galaxy, much less a desolate New Republic base, that could put you back together in one piece, not even your own. But no one was capable of voicing that outlook, not as they watched Leia break down in tears in the seat beside them, knowing the blaster shots were meant for her, not as they watched Poe clutch onto your body, barely breathing.

One minute. He had you. The next minute…

Your lips formed around one last word as the ship came in for a landing. “Love…”

It was the last word you got out. The last word he heard from you before your eyes fell shut and Snap rushed back to grab you and get you past the pouring rain inside the somewhat derelict base.

Poe walked two steps to follow before his knees gave out, the downpour drowning him as he collapsed.

“Poe…” the hand in his curls should have been comforting, the voice too, but something else bubbled in his stomach, a sickness he had no chance of escaping. “Poe, come on, let’s get you out of this weather.”

His head dropped out of Leia’s grip as his sobbing grew uncontrollable.

“Poe…”

There was no comfort she could offer, no wisdom, no advice. There was an empty feeling, a space left vacant with you not beside the two of them, a hollow pain that not even the torrential downpour could wash away as Poe wailed, a heartbreaking scream shuddered out from his lips. There was nothing she could do but hold him and hope.

Hope.

He remembered Leia’s words. Hope is like the sun. She was half right.

You were his hope. You were his sun. And now there was rain. Dark, dreary, pouring rain.

The rain reminded him of home. It reminded him of you.

You hated the rain.

He met you in the rain. He met you in the rain...

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER...

[bau-baby]

the ultimate loss. 1/?

aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: Haley was your friend, and you’re dealing with her loss, just as Aaron was. When the grief subsides, what happens to you and Aaron?

Word count: 1,880

warnings: grief, loss

(A/N): Because it took so long for me to finish this, I decided to end my suffering of trying to figure out where to take the storyline within this fic and get to work on a part 2. Sorry for the wait!!

W.S. Gilbert wrote, “It’s love that makes the world go ‘round.” And if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Haley in it. 

You remember the first time you saw the Hotchner family unit in their own element. It was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The total admiration and love Haley and Aaron had both for each other as well as their son, Jack, was unmatched. You were out in their backyard, sitting and watching Jack run around while chatting amongst yourselves, hearing old stories from before your time at the BAU. Your friendship with Haley only grew from there.

Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles, but if there’s one thing we agreed upon unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son, Jack.

You were there for them through all the hell that led up to the divorce. You watched as Haley tore herself up for thinking of leaving and saw how Aaron buried himself in his work to distract him from the problem. You knew that Haley loved Aaron and that Aaron loved Haley all the same. It was just a matter of the time the job took away from them, and ultimately what was best for Jack.

Haley’s love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. 

After the divorce, you tried to visit Haley often, filling her in on how the team and Aaron specifically were doing. You’d help out with Jack, and he ended up adoring you and your visits. Haley grew to you quickly as well. Sure, you were friends before, but your caring nature made you two become much better friends outside of the connection you’d had with her being the boss’ ex-wife.

A mother’s love is an unrivaled force of nature, and we all can learn much from the way Haley lived her life. 

The fear in her eyes when you went in with SWAT to get Haley and Jack was something you’d never seen from her before. She was one of the strongest mothers you knew. She did everything to make sure her son was happy. When she got to the hospital, you saw how she talked with Aaron. You saw the twenty-year-old smile lines shine through to their faces, and you realized that you had missed their lifetime of being together. Sure, you had the hilarious retellings of high school and college-age Aaron, but you think they lived through a whole other world before you showed up. 

Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives to measure who we are, and what we’ve become. I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together, and I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her.

You never realized how close not only you and Haley were, but how close you and Aaron were until after Haley and Jack were put into WITSEC. You and Aaron kept each other sane while they were gone, and you both worked just as hard on finding George Foyet. You’d spend late nights at Aaron’s apartment pouring over the details of the case, hoping something will jump out of the files and tell you where he’s hiding out and what he’s planning, but to no avail.

If Haley were with us today, she would ask us not to mourn her death, but to celebrate her life. She would tell us… she would tell us to love our families unconditionally and to hold them close ‘cause in the end, they are all that matter.

You were in an SUV by yourself, racing against the clock to get to Haley and Jack as you listened in on the call before you. You could hear the strain in Aaron’s voice, the way he had to keep everything at bay to keep a somewhat strong front. You heard Haley as she cried, making Aaron promise to tell Jack about how she and Aaron loved one another and loved him, and to tell Jack of times when Aaron wasn’t so serious. You made your own promise then, a promise to keep Haley’s memory alive in Jack, and to make sure both Aaron and Jack are taken care of. 

When the three shots rang out, you put your foot to the floorboard and sped to Fairfax. You knew Aaron was doing the same thing. You had to make sure that he and Jack made it out of this alive, and had to put Foyet away for all the pain and suffering he caused. 

I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school’s production of The Pirates of the Penzance. I found our copy of the play and I was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed… appropriate for this moment. “Oh dry the glistening tear that dews that martial cheek. Thy loving children here in them thy comfort seek. With sympathetic care, their arms around thee creep. For oh they cannot bear to see their father weep.”

You see the car Hotch used in front of his old family home, and you dash inside the house, brandishing your gun as you checked the house. That’s when you hear the sound coming from the formal dining room area, a harsh thumping and loud sobs belonging to Aaron. You see him over what used to be Foyet, and you run to him, pulling him away.

“He’s dead, Hotch! He’s gone! You’re okay!”

He breaks down crying from there, an inconsolable man crying at the feet of his ex-wife’s killer. 

-----

Something you never thought you’d have to do was not only bury a friend of yours but also comfort her inconsolable husband and kid. As Aaron spoke of Haley and all that she was, you stood off his left shoulder, a hand resting on Aaron’s shoulder as well as Jack’s.

You just stared down at the casket, tears staining the top of your coat. There wasn’t a dry eye as you all listened to a mourning husband who was sharing more of himself right now than he ever has or will again. 

You feel a small hand tug on your sleeve, and you look down to see Jack staring up at you. You crouch down, taking your hand off Aaron’s shoulder. 

“What’s up, buddy?” Your shaky voice asks, even though you tried to keep an even tone.

Jack doesn’t even speak, he just wraps his small arms around your neck and burrows his head into your shoulder. You hold a hand on the back of his head, hoping and failing to hide him from the harsh reality in front of him.

When the service ends and you’re all passing Aaron and Jack, you hang back for a second to look at all the roses on Haley’s casket before walking over to the sullen-eyed man.

“I just wanted to say that if either of you ever needs anything, I’m a phone call away,” You crouch down to be at Jack’s level, “Take care of your dad, okay buddy?” He nods, looking up to his dad. You stand back up and spare one more look at Aaron before walking over to one of the few cars left by the curb. 

-----

JJ gets the one call you dread as you sit around the table, all not-so-subtly glancing out the window to Aaron and Dave throughout your time conversing. The entire team then shifts their gaze to you, variations of sad, knowing looks gracing their faces. They all know that you and Aaron have been close since you joined, so they always looked to you when someone needed to talk to the big boss man.

To save you the embarrassment of being under their gaze, Morgan sends you out to grab Rossi while also realizing you’ll end up talking with Aaron.

The cool air that hits you as you step out onto the patio mirrors a lot of what this day and all the days you’ve lived without Haley have felt like. 

“Rossi, they’re calling us for a case. No other teams available, unfortunately,” You say, sending a sad look to Aaron as you say it.

“Aren’t you comin’ kiddo?” Rossi says, already making small steps towards the door.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll catch up with you guys in a few,” You say as you angle your body towards Aaron. 

“You should really be with the team, they need you,” Aaron says, his eyes taking particular interest in the railing in front of him.

“Aaron, I’ll be there when they need me to be, just like I’m here when you need me to be. Right now we’re both struggling with a loss, and the team understands that,” You say, reaching over to rest a hand over his, “Let me help you, grieve with you. Please.”

He sighs, and you can feel and hear the tears in his voice as he asks, “Can-” he sniffles, “ Can you help me keep my promise?” 

A look of confusion dashes across your face, trying to figure out what promise he was referring to. Then, you recall Haley’s words you heard in the SUV, her final words, making Aaron promise that he will show his son how he and Haley loved.

A small, earnest but sorrowful smile settles on your face, “Of course, Aaron. I’ll spend the rest of my life helping you keep that promise, and I’m sure the rest of the team will too.”

He finally moves from looking out at the world away from the patio to looking at you. He pulls you in for a hug, and you can feel the tears come down on your shoulder. He stays like that for a long time, even after the tears are gone. He finally pulls back and sniffles, reorienting himself. You knew that he was vulnerable, he just hated showing it.

“You really should go, the team needs you for the case,” Aaron says, not wanting to push you away, just taking his time to grieve. You relent, nodding your head.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, and I mean it, Hotchner,” You say, a playful sternness in your tone, even if you were genuine. You see him give a small smile as you make your way back inside.

You both were grieving. He lost an ex-wife whom he still loved, a friend, and the mother to his young child. You lost a friend who was more like a sister, and someone you cared so deeply for.

Both of you could hear the faint bells going off in the back of your head, alerting you of something you couldn’t- wouldn’t- address.

Too much, too soon.

That’s all that anything was these days. Too much, too soon.

But, as with everything in life, sometimes you have to face things head-on. Needless to say, that virtue was not something that came easy to you or Aaron.

But what was to happen when those bells started ringing a whole lot louder?  

[xiaomoxu]

West Moon (坠月之宴) Chapter 1 Part.TWO

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️ A story from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the AU (Alternated Universe) - 坠月之宴 West Moon Story.

Read Part.ONE here

There’s some sub-chapter which full of battle stage so I didn’t put it here.

Stories under the cut-

Chapter 1-7

Across the wide square, I stood under the long steps in front of the Royal Association and looked up.

The blueish-white stairs kept going up, as if the end was invisible, and the uncut gray stone glowed with a faint phosphorescence under the sunlight.

I have passed by here many times, and I only took a look at this long step, which is said to be only climbed by a hidden person, but this time it was my turn to climb.

When I tried my best to reach the last step, the sun had already risen to the center.

Looking down from a high place, the long stairs are like flowing water down a bay, making it even more spectacular.

It's a pity that I'm too tired to appreciate it now.

MC: Phew, is this the Royal Association?

As soon as I walked in, I saw a group of young masters gathered together and whispered about something.

Young Hermit: Do you know? The demonized swordsman who arbitrated himself in the Three Dreams Square a few days ago, heard that he did not leave any hidden dust after his death, but simply disappeared!

Royal Hermit: You are well informed, do you know why?

The young hermit the crowd looked as old as I was. He smiled even more when he heard someone follow him.

Lu: I heard that this is not the first time this situation has occurred, but it was because of fear of panic.

Lu: That man, I heard that he also participated in the Battle of Demon Abyss three years ago. I don't know why he didn't turned into a demon.

Speaking of this, the people around were all embarrassed and sighed with emotion.

Royal Hermit: Maybe it's a trick! She's just a pawn in the army, for strength and power, it is not surprising to do such things.

Royal Hermit: It's just that there are more and more occultists demonized during this period, and there may be someone behind this.

Lu: Wait a minute...who are you?

Following his movements, dozens of eyes instantly turned towards me, who was standing on the side listening seriously.

I quickly pretended that I hadn't heard anything at first, and I looked at them curiously.

MC: Do you register here to join the association?

Lu: Join the association? You?

The young man obviously didn't put me in his eyes. He walked over and looked me up and down. He moved his head and was very disdainful.

Lu: Recently, there have been demonization incidents everywhere in the banquet. In order to prevent hidden inferiors with ulterior motives from entering, the association now only accepts referrals from registered masters.

MC: In that case, as long as there is a recommendation from the Imperial Hermit, it is enough?

In my eyes, I can see that he's thought that I had "ulterior motives".

Lu: Seeing you're so sweaty and out of breath, let's go back and practice again. Who wants to introduce you to the job? Listen to me, he is harming you!

MC: It's Gavin, do you know him?

Lu: Who are you talking about?

His eyes were wide open, as if he had heard something incredible.

MC: Gavin, he belongs to the Bai family. One of the three imperial hermit families, do you know?

*) Notes: I don’t know how should I translate his family name, so I put “Bai” as the original

MC: But he may not come often. Do any of you recognize him?

Lu: .....What, are you kidding?!

Lu looked at me strangely.

MC: Does anyone know him? Do I need any proof?

I frowned, somewhat inexplicable about this situation. Isn't Gavin a regular hermit?

When I hesitated to wonder if Gavin had a bad relationship, the crowd started to laugh.

Royal Hermit: The little girl lied and didn't write a letter! I'm afraid that she has been worshipping for a long time and has become a demon.

Royal Master: The young master of the Bai family has always been a dragon without seeing the end, and never had a close friendship with Master Association. How would you make a referral?

I listened to the whiteness in their mouths, and then I gradually found a familiar feeling.

MC: He is actually the same, he hasn't changed much...

I whispered, and he took the hidden symbol to the table and gave me an ultimatum.

Lu: Unless you play for nothing, we won't let you join!

The lingering sound of this remark hasn't fallen yet, and suddenly there is a loud voice.

The wind surging from outside the door raised the veil on my veil high, and my vision became blurred for a while.

I turned my head and looked, and saw the person we argued with, and the wind fell in front of my eyes.

Gavin looked at me and raised his eyebrows slightly, seeming to ask why I am here.

I hurriedly stepped forward and pulled his sleeves and looked at the crowd.

MC: He is here, can I join now?

Everyone stared at Gavin blankly, and did not recover for a long time.

I looked at them and I was thankful that I was calm on the surface, but my heart was thumping.

Yesterday, Gavin had a vague attitude and did not agree to recommend me to join the Royal Association. Fortunately, I came today.

Gavin: What happened?

He turned his head to look at the young masters who did not dare to speak, and only Lu, who claimed to have seen Gavin, approached him.

Lu: Gavin, why are you here? It turns out that this is someone you know. Are you planning to introduce her to the association?

Gavin: Hm.

Seeing that he wanted to deny it in vain, I secretly tugged at his sleeve and turned my head to pray in a low voice.

MC: Allies, do you remember that we formed an alliance?

Gavin: I can be your referrer.

I didn't expect that he would agree so happily. After a while, there was no response yet, and it was indeed until the second half of his sentence.

Gavin: But you must promise me one more thing.

MC: One word is for sure! No more conditions are allowed.

I agreed in one fell swoop, for fear that he would repent, so I pulled him back and walked quickly with Lu.

The speed of "going through the back door" to complete the procedures was much faster than I thought. When Gavin said that I don't need to perform a hidden energy test, his eyes became more subtle.

Seeing those eyes, I felt a little guilty for a while. However.. Getting a job is the most important thing.

Gu Yu: This is your magic instrument and imperial talisman, please keep it.

The young boy who was in charge of the reception in the hall of the association showed a gentle smile and gave me the things I needed urgently.

With these two things, there will be no forbidden reasons, and the fragments can be found faster.

MC: Gavin, thank you for this time.

Although I was forced to agree to a condition, I expressed my sincere gratitude to him.

He responded, his eyes swept across the thing in my hand, and his voice was lowered.

Gavin: What are you going to do next?

MC: For the next thing, I still need time to prepare.

I remembered the unfinished thing three years ago and the ceremonial a few months later. I was silent for a moment and raised my smile to look at Gavin.

MC: If there is something that needs your help at that time, I will bother you for a favor.

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes lightly.

Gavin: Of course, we are allies after all.

Chapter 1-8

After getting the promise from Gavin, the weight on my heart seemed to be lighter.

Walking out of the Royal Association, the translucent hidden stone at the door is still dark red, as deep as the whirlpool of a building, making people unable to see for a long time.

I remembered the conditions that Gavin asked me to promise earlier, and hurriedly asked him.

MC: What did you want me to promise?

Gavin stood with his arm folded, raised his eyebrows, but his tone was flat.

Gavin: I'll tell you when it's time for you to do it.

MC: You are really.... I didn't expect you to become such a person!

Thinking of how I promised casually, I regretted it.

Gavin: Hm? Then what kind of person do you think I should be?

MC: Justㅡ

I met his eyes fixed on me, but I didn't know what to say.

After all, at our age, three years is enough to make a person changed, but I missed it.

I still remember that Gavin three years ago, carrying that sword that no one would let anyone touch, was clearly still a young boy.

MC: I believe in what you are, and what I promised you, I will do it.

I raised my hand earnestly, looking at my movements, he was a little bit astonished, but he quickly reacted and gave me a high-five.

Gavin: You still have a lot of ideas.

Gavin chuckled. I don't know if the sun has softened the lines on his face, but I have found the feeling of the past.

Handing over to Gavin to say goodbye, I turned my head, and the long forgotten stairs appeared before my eyes again.

Why did the Royal Association want to build such a long stairs to ask for hardship? I secretly groaned in my heart, and when I watched Gavin on the side, I suddenly had an idea.

MC: Gavin, haven't I told you what my hidden energy is?

Gavin: .... is it dancing?

MC: No, dancing is not hidden energy, it's just the work of witches!

After being blocked by Gavin, I was a bit speechless, but saw him glance at me with a smile in his eyes.

Gavin: Okay, what is that?

I'm speechless for a while, don't turn a blind eye to him.

MC: ....Give me your hand.

Gavin's hand is much larger than mine, enough to hold my hand whole. He took my hand and looked up at me.

Gavin: And then?

His eyes were as clear as the wind with a smile, which made my heart a little confused.

I focused my mind, closed my eyes, and felt the cool, pure, morning breeze coming from the palms that were close to each other.

But there seems to be something uneasy lurking in the wind.

MC: Actually this is the first time I use this kind of hidden energy.

I whispered embarrassedly and opened my eyes. At the same time, the kingdom of wind, born out of thin air, surrounds us, gathering more and more.

The sudden sense of suspension under my feet made me nervously hold Gavin's hand, and the distance between us was also pushed closer by the wind.

MC: Can you use my abilities?

Gavin reacted quickly, but did not resist, but let me carefully try to use it.

MC: Well, I can borrow abilities through contact, but the other party must cooperate.

Gavin: Do you have to do this every time you use it?

His eyes fell on the hand we clasped together.

MC: No, as long as you touch it, anywhere is possible.

Gavin: Any place is ok?

Gavin lowered his voice, with some doubts in his eyes. However, his words fell in my ears, I always feel that something is wrong...

Suddenly I felt the warmth of these words, and there was a thud in my head, everything was messed up all of a sudden, and the wind that supported us also broke away in an instant.

Oh No!

I exclaimed, my body fell back uncontrollably, but was supported by a strong arm, and I fell into a windy embrace unexpectedly.

Gavin seemed to be a little puzzled by my reaction, but didn't ask too much. After taking over, I started to only use hidden energy.

Gavin: Ready?ㅡ

Gavin's voice just fell, and the silent wind steadily supported us....

The wind that I had struggled to control before now became extremely warm, leading us to go up quickly.

The building of the association quickly became smaller in my eyes. The long steps shone in the light, and gradually changed from a river to a creek.

The wind in mid-air hits my face with a coolness, and the scene in front of me is open and far away, which feels refreshing and makes me a little scared.

MC: Have you ever thought about what to do if you fall?

I tried to chat with him to relieve the inexplicable panic in my heart.

Gavin: Why the sudden thought?

Gavin said it quite naturally, as if he had never really worried about this issue. I looked at his expression, it was a relaxed look that I had never seen before.

His eyes stretched, the scattered strands of hair curled up in the wind, and even the corners of his lips seemed to show a soft smile, which made my heart move.

So, flying is such a happy thing?

Compared to both feet, the extra long steps were quickly passed by the wind.

Gavin took me to a stop on the square in front of the long steps, and released the arm that hold me.

The feeling of stepping on the ground again is still a little light, and I still feel a little regretful in my heart. I don't know if I still have a chance to fly again.

Gavin: Well, see you next time?

MC: Huh, what?

I was still immersed in the feeling of flying into the air, and I couldn't get back to my senses. Gavin looked at me, amused, helped me lift my hood.

Gavin: There are so many people here, I will go first,

Seeing Gavin turn around, and once again leap up the steps behind me by the wind, his figure quickly disappeared.

MC: ....When I see you next time, please come up with something that you want me to do.

Chapter 1-10

MC: I didn't expect it to be so troublesome to be an imperial master.

On this day, I first went to a few contact points to hand over the name tag, and then did the task of getting started with the master of the hermit, and received a monthly assessment form.

After finally being officially listed and got work, it is almost time for curfew.

There was no one on the street, and with closed doors, I walked towards the wine shop.

MC: !

Suddenly, I felt an extremely familiar and dangerous force, and my heartbeat stopped, almost asphyxiated.

That was the power I felt just before I fell on the high platform three years ago

That is the hand that stretched out to me from behind...

I squatted down slowly against the wall, hugged my knees tightly, and panted desperately to keep myself calm.

It took a long time for the pain that was almost a dull knife to cut the flesh before falling asleep and the flying power eased. I bit my lip tightly, and my palms were sweating unconsciously.

I will never forget this feeling!

I stood up and followed this force without a doubt.

Gradually chasing to the depths of the alley, a red lantern suddenly floated in the dark.

The faint red light of the lantern fell on the ground, and there was no sound on all sides, followed by my sight.

I used to hear people say that the banquet has a black market called "Dark Moon Set". The location changes at any time, and only a red lantern is hung when the market opens.

Yandu's Dark Moon Collection, they are doing ugly business

Smugglers, murderers, and surreptitious.. The unheard of rare treasures and secret techniques are all circulated here. They are never thought of and cannot be bought.

Someone was crying in the depths of the alley, and I felt a cloud in my heart, and I couldn't help but walk over.

The dark night was deep and the trees were full of shadows. Except for a little light covering them, there was only darkness left.

??: Move, quick.

??: Please...let me go.

A low male voice urged impatiently, and the shadow on the wall spread violently, like a hand, and the whimpering begging for mercy suddenly weakened.

Blood splattered on the wall, the shivering figure gradually fell, and the man triumphantly pinched something on his fingertips.

I can't help but move forward, wanting to see what he is holding.

The blood-stained spar glowed strangely in the night. The man looked at the spar and laughed with satisfaction.

??: The harvest is not bad.

??: Move faster and don't leave your feet behind.

The shape of the man’s fingertips was almost unfamiliar, and my breath shook involuntarilyㅡ

What he holds in his hand is obviously a hidden stone!

The hidden stone and the hidden crystal on my chest are from the same origin. The hidden crystal on my chest is the only one in the world, and I have it when I was born. The hidden stone can be collected near the abyss of the same home.

The hidden stone can enhance the power of the hidden person, and has always been the most precious resource. It has been managed by the Royal Association supervised by the court.

If you are found to sell hidden stones privately, you will be punished by capital.

I accidentally kick the stone.

The sound of rolling down can be heard clearly in the empty dark alley

??: Who? Come out!

What to do?

The man's footsteps gradually approached, and when I was approaching my hiding place, there was a sudden sound above my head.

A crystal clear glass glass slid past my eyes, and it was exploded into pieces on the ground mixed with the depressive liquor.

But the shards of colored glaze stayed in the air, even the crimson wine was condensed into the shape of droplets, and the shadow of the man on the wall froze in a weird manner.

This isㅡ

??: Go.

I raised my head.

Above the high wall, a small window was still lit and illuminated by the light, showing a vague figure.

The person's voice was as cold as water, beyond doubt, I suppressed my doubts and ran out of the alley without thinking too much.

I ran all the way back to the main street. When I couldn't run, there was a faint sound of debris falling to the ground.

When I looked back, the city was silent, and the light in that window dimmed, hiding in the deep night.

The wind blows the trees, everything is back to normal again, what happened just now, everything seems to be just my illusion.

I looked at the fallen leaf falling in my palm, as if holding a broken clue, a wave of unwillingness and melancholy rose in my heart.

It's just that the night is getting dark, so I closed my eyes and tighten my cloak, and didn't dare to stay any longer, and walked straight to Three Dreams Square.

What I didn't see was that a child appeared in the shadow of the alley.

He stared at the shadow that gradually disappeared at the end of the road in the distance, showing an expression of indifference that did not match his age.

The child took out a gray homing pigeon and let it into the air.

The homing pigeon flaps its wings and flies towards the depths of the building after the building, disappearing into the night sky,

Chapter 1-11

After running all the way back to the backyard of the wine shop, I locked the door and let out a long sigh of relief.

Had it not been for the kind-hearted man in the restaurant to help secretly, it would have been inevitable just now.

I shook my head, swept away the various thoughts, sat down in the courtyard pavilion, poured myself a glass of wine, and reconsidered the magic qin

From the outside, this qin couldn't be more ordinary.

Although I was sure that the fragments were in it, I was holding the qin upside down for a long time, and there was no trace of fragments.

I looked at the qin in front of me with some discouragement, and suddenly a flash of light flashed in my mind.

The strings rang, and the clank sound steamed away like water, and I was swept back by a force, and the scene in front of me was turned upside down in an instant!

Consciousness breaks away from the body and gets involved in that qinㅡ

A smell that belongs solely to the battlefield rushed over, with blood mixed in the sand and dust, as well as demonic energy everywhere.

This isㅡ a magic wave!

I looked at the blood-stained knife in my hand and the armor of the West Moon female soldier on me, feeling a little at a loss for a while.

A gun suddenly flew past my eyes, and a young soldier in heavy armor struggling to get up, was pierced in the chest in an instant.

His blood just hit my face, and I couldn't help but shake.

The screams of repair, the sound of mourning, the warhorse. The remains of humans and demons will fill the trenches in history, and the two soldiers trampled past, smashing their swords with their red eyes.

I looked at the tragedy before me, my throat seems to be tightly choked.

??: Why are you stupefying!

There was a loud shout from behind, and when I was thrown down, I saw a front half coming through the air firmly nailed to the person behind me.

Looking back again, the soldier who rescued me just now was covered in blood.

MC: what happened to you?

He rode and coughed out a few mouthfuls of blood, and dropped his head in my arms

MC: Demon Abyss...Battlefield.... Why am I here?

I looked up and couldn't see the bridge of Linyuan in the distance, and suddenly remembered

While wandering around the market today, many storytellers in teahouses and pubs were talking about the "Linyuan Battle" that suffered heavy casualties three years ago.

My heart jumped, it seemed to understand, I seemed to be taken by the magic qin into another person's body, and this person...

I don't know who screamed sternly, and the rout soldiers could be seen everywhere, throwing their helmets and armor, and fleeing in all directions.

On the bridge of Linyuan, a tall figure pulled a weapon, and stood up covered in blood.

The robe under the armor was hunted and raised in the wind. He wiped the blood from his lips, raised his head, and saw the soldiers on the hillside in the distance draw their bows towards him.

The military division shouted hoarsely, suddenly the voice was sad and angryㅡ

The major general has become a demon, and only by killing him, we can go home!

He closed his eyes, his face was tired, and he slowly clenched his sword.

Countless arrows were shot at him with black pressure, and the sound of war drums sounded again.

The sound of the wind is like the roar of the ancient gods, coming from the end of the vast world, rolling up the gravel and flying sand that cover the sky and the sun.

The well-trained cavalry soon got ready again, all raised their guns, and only waited for the drums to stop, they rushed to surround him.

He turned around, blank in his red eyes.

At this moment, the mountains on both sides of the Demon Abyss shook, raising layers of yellow sand.

The wind is getting more and more violent, the scenes on both sides are involved in chaos, and another scene emerges like a production building in the sea.

Amidst the twisted flying sand and walking stones, the stretch of the cliff collapsed, and the soldiers and horses ran around in panic.

I suddenly remembered that in the mouths of the storytellers at the market, a general made great achievements at a young age, but he soon fell into a demon.

It is really sad.

When I raised my eyes to try to see his face clearly, he had already turned and walked towards Demon Abyss.

Looking at his back, I don't know why, a deep pain suddenly surged in my chest.

In just a moment, my consciousness attached to this real body was once again swept away by a powerful force.

The wailing of war horses and the sound of desperate fighting gradually disappeared from the ears, and the picture in front of them quickly receded, leaving only a piece of whiteness.

My legs were weak and I slumped on the ground.

My chest was still rubbed tightly by an inexplicable sorrow, and in front of me were the afterimage of the man on the lonely bridge in the abyss, and the blood-stained armor on his body.

I remember, the storyteller seems to have mentioned...

The major general who walked towards the demon realm and never returned, his name isㅡ

Those three words were stuck in my throat, and when I was about to remember, the magic qin on the table suddenly rang.

MC: !

I saw a burst of dark red evil spirits floating on the qin, rising into the air, and hitting me.

 Chapter 1-12

The backyard of the wine shop is bright and clean. I was in a panic, and breathed a little, I still had the chance of being attacked by the magic qin.

It turns out that there is a demon in this qin, but I don't know. I bite the tip of my tongue tightly, and my trance thoughts quickly gathered in the sharp pain.

... not a dream.

Even if I closed my eyes, the figure of the major general could not help appearing in the pitch-black vision.

Victor.

I remember, this is his name.

Is the current king of the Demon Territory the major general? I don’t know how the relationship between the two clans has been during the years I slept.

However, the soldiers under the devil are regarded as enemies. Even if they become the devil, they must have an unwillingness to let go.

The fragments of hidden crystals that fell outside, the bell that I heard when I fell from the stage three years ago, the invisible hand, and the memory of this belonging to someone else...

The intricate clues are intertwined in my mind, and the location is not clear.

The predicament in front of me has not been clearly thought out yet, but the sleepiness gradually hit me.

No matter what, go to sleep firstㅡ

When a person can't figure out what to do, they should honestly wait until he wakes up before asking the master.

The empty wine steamed down on the table and turned around, and I closed my eyes in fatigue.

...

The night was dark, just when everything was silent, the magic qin on the table suddenly moved slightly.

The dark body of the qin glowed with a cold and gloomy light, and under the vast moonlight, a red-clothed human figure floated out of the body.

Suddenly there was a greenery in the courtyard, and the shadows of the trees and the bamboo leaves shook slightly.

Someone inadvertently changed the bamboo wind to solve the problem, worrying about being in the ink painting.

He raised his sleeves and flipped his hands, and hold the floating fuzzy human figure back into the qin.

That man made a fierce and gentle movement, and the strings only rang softly.

The girl on the bed moved her finger slightly and turned over, but did not wake up.

He looked down at the girl in his sleep, his eyes dark and deep.

The human figure who was imprisoned by the qin struggled unwillingly twice, making noises in the silence, and then quieting down again.

He turned and stared at the qin, his brows restored as indifferently as before.

Mysterious Man: It's not time for you to play yet.

 -----END OF CHAPTER 1-----

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 28 (NSFW)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read chapter twenty-seven

Title: You Need Me

Words: 5.9k

Summary: Third time’s the charm, right?

Warnings: Lost orgasm

ST Rambles: WOW! Not me posting a chapter a chapter after only two weeks. Nuts, really. As of now, this semester is much less of... it's just less fucking nonsense, if I am being honest. I am getting very excited about my future and where I will be this time next year. I have an interview on February 27th for a new-grad RN residency program. It's all just very strange and adult right now.

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER // @elmidol​

However short it might be, you thought you would like to spend the rest of forever exactly like this.

The sun remained hidden, and the light of the moon had faded, leaving you shrouded in darkness and engulfed in the heat of Kylo Ren’s resting form. Not a limb had moved from what you could remember before dozing off last night, your legs kept woven with his, cheek melting into his solid chest, the broad hand between your shoulders less stark in its effort to keep you against him. Still, the world vaguely existing beyond the canopy around you, you remained tucked into him, unsure if you had ever felt this amount of peace before. One difference now, something you’d never had the chance to experience, was the faint tickle of deep, rhythmic breath coming from the sleeping warrior who caressed you.

Twelve. Twelve perfect, dazed breaths kissed your forehead and sent mild sparks dancing along your skin; they followed thoughts of absent nightmares, nightmares that always seemed to keep away when he was near. Looking at him, peering up to see the vulnerability in his slackened mouth and long, looming eyelashes framing the dying purple that lay beneath them, you could tell he had not slept this well since Starkiller. Maybe even before then. Quietly, you allowed yourself somewhat of a small victory at the thought.

You did not know what to do, not wanting to wake him, yet aware that you needed to get ready for your shift. The calendar-chip Karmen had given you had transferred its data into your watch, but your watch was rooms away – worlds away – resting on the refresher floor. The transport ship would be waiting at the front entrance at six, but that had to be at least an hour away if you were banking on the soft darkness surrounding you, not quite remembering what it felt like waking up to real sunlight.

So, ever so slightly, making every effort to silence your breath and shifting, you loosed from his hold and led his arm lightly back down to the bed, watching him for any sign of disturbance. Through the distance, you heard the early, soft ebbing of the sea, noting how it complemented the push of Kylo’s exhales. He did not seem to stir, not even a lapse in his breathing when you rolled onto your back and tugged the linens up to cover your chest, the cold of the room taking residence over the skin previously pressed to the hearth of his own.

Your Master. The Commander of the First Order. Kylo Ren. How strange it was to be here, to see up close every healed and healing scar, to witness the slight twitch in his brow, to study the handsome line of his nose and the various moles that flecked along his cheeks. This was the strongest, most feared and lethal man in the galaxy, and here you were fawning over the light spray of sparce freckles sprawled along his cheekbones. A privilege, you thought, to have the man who haunted nightmares keep your very own at bay.

Lips pressed together, eyes full of wonder, you let the very tips of your fingers trace the raven haze of hair that splayed beneath his dreaming face. And when the dark ends met his shoulder, you risked a featherlight touch over the hand you had earlier placed. An intricate, beautiful pattern of veins jutted out on its surface, his long fingers curled into a weak fist, your focus lingering along the scars cut into his knuckles. A life of scrapes and training and battle and bruises lived in his skin, the veins beneath treading paths along them, like a map, like a guidebook to each blight of hurt that ghosted their blue trails. You swallowed a giggle, wondering if you would pick a sixteen or a fourteen-gauge needle to start an IV on him.

Running your fourth finger along the prominent vein that fled gracefully along his entire arm, you kissed the inside of his wrist, watching his face and never wanting to disturb him, but needing to feel him. A slight upward twitch at the corner of his mouth made your heart jump, choking back a gasp when a curl of hair swept over his eyes. Another fascination, how full his lips were; you touched them, a sneaking whisper of your fingers, pulling down on the bottom one and leaning in closer and closer, warmth fogging your hand, your face, his features unmoving and mild.

The elegant brutality that now crowned his features – it was healing, its edges no longer raised and red, but flush with their binding. Two weeks ago his face had been unmarred, but the whole of you found this new normal breathtaking, heart-stopping. Beholding him now brought you back to that desperate moment, just before he’d carried you to bed, when you clung to him because you believed you’d never get another chance.

Palm flat to his chest, above his heart, following the lead of his lungs, you closed your eyes and rested your lips to the corner of his mouth, and said, quieter than the very thought of a whisper, “I never wanted to hurt you.” A ghosted kiss. “I never wanted to leave then, and…” The steady beat of his heart remained, the rush of your own silencing the tide of the waking bay. With his next breath, with an aching chest that held nothing of the pain it had previously, you breathed, “I never wanted to leave then, and I never want to leave again.”

Not a single tear, not even the suggestion of one, nothing but adamant truth tapping against the canopy’s silence. You needed him here, no longer caring if it stole the innocence and vulnerability of sleep’s caress.

“Kylo,” you whispered, kissing him with intent, coaxing him awake.

A deep, sharp inhale. You could not trap the smile that broke across your cheeks.

A nuzzle against his nose, curious fingers breeching that sea of obsidian tresses. “Kylo, wake up.”

He hummed, his lips finally leading into yours when he left his dream’s embrace. Like he had not wanted it moved, his hand reclaimed your back and pressed you against him, his other hiking your leg atop his own, the feel of his skin warming you to your very center. Nearly melded against him, his bare torso to yours, you felt him harden, felt the heat of his cock grow and thicken, become weighted as it filled and filled. You caught an unbidden gasp, leaning away from him long enough to see the mischief that danced in his eyes.

His arms coiled around you as he stretched, a cant of his hips to finish off the gesture. He was looking down at you, first at your face, then over your body, the skim of his eyes heavy when you could see their every tick. Kylo slid a rough hand up your leg, stopping just beneath the curve of your ass and anchoring himself to the scorching skin of your inner thigh. When he looked back to your eyes, searing amber swallowed by the shadows of the room, you smiled and ground yourself into his erection. Kylo growled in approval, your lips gracing his and feeling the depth of the vibration on his lips.

“You know,” he sighed, sleep heavy in his voice, “they should add assault and battery to your charges.” Those fingers around your thigh reached deeper.

“Hm, and why is that?”

“Because,” he nipped your bottom lip, “I didn’t consent to any of this.”

His crooning tone filtered into your veins, amusement blooming in your chest. “You were asleep. If anything, I was being considerate.”

“Considerate, mm?” Your fingers fisted at his nape, the hand at your back gliding up to do the same. “I guess I’ve been very considerate both times I’ve woken up before you, then.”

“Kylo Ren: considerate,” you chuffed a giggle, “I don’t know about that.”

“Really?” he rumbled, light yet venomous. Kylo tread parted lips along your jaw, your ear lobe slipping between them before he pulled you in and whispered with pride and claim, “Because that first morning, before I left you to sleep in my bed,” the hand around your thigh shifted upward, just grazing your slit, “I stared at the bruises I’d made the previous night, stared at how they’d grown and how they all belonged to me.”

The tip of his tongue slid along the shell of your ear, a pant parting your lips when his cock throbbed into your abdomen.

Kylo’s tone had lowered and thickened when he next spoke, “I thought about waking you up, then,” the tip of his finger pushed into the wetness that had gathered between your legs, a pleasured hum rolling out of him, “thought about fucking my hand while I watched you sleep, knowing my cum had dried onto your thighs overnight.”

Hot, masterful fingers parted your folds, your breath stuck in your throat as Kylo stared into you, watching you when his touch brushed lazily against your clit. His eyes narrowed in knowing pride when yours seemed to flutter, hiking your leg up further, trying to get another graze of his touch. An effort in vain. His hips canted again, slowly this time, stroking himself against the soft skin of your belly.

“I wanted to fuck you awake, really, wanted the first thing you were aware of to be me splitting you open, wanted to see your eyes lull and widen when you realized what was going on.” A second tease of those fingers, slick slipping past your entrance. “And I could have, you know,” he drawled, a third nudge over your stiffened bud, a tug at the nape of your neck.

He waited, observing you before you asked through shuddering breath, “What do I know?”

An upward slant to those plush lips, a tongue running along his teeth, a viper behind his eyes. “You know that I can have you whenever, however I want—” his fingers began a slow, circling pattern, passing over and over that sweet spot “—because you’re always ready for me, always wet.” His hand shifted so it was his thumb rolling over the buzzing nerves, and the tips of three bare, slickened fingers teased your core. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

You ground into him, begging for more of him, the length of his cock burning into you, slipping against your stomach as precum slicked his shaft. With as much nonchalance as you could muster, which was near zilch as you held back hums and winces with each pass of his thumb, you sighed, “Maybe, or perhaps you’re forgetting my life doesn’t revolve around you.”

“Maybe not right now,” he purred, pumping and circling his fingers, effectively inching you toward climax, “give it time. Give me time.”

“What are you talking about?” you panted, pushing your body into his hand, reaching the very brink of pleasure.

His hips canted, he grunted, and when you winced, seethed with pleasure, felt it tighten in your belly and quiver along your legs, Kylo stopped.

“No,” you whined, “no! That’s just cruel,” you pulled his face from your neck, “Kylo, what-,”

He said nothing, but there was something unreadable in his expression that stopped you from readying for battle. It appeared like something had just clicked for him, his eyes so distant he could have been in an entirely different galaxy for all you knew. Just as fast as he was gone, he returned with passive pomp settling a smirk into his face.

You studied him, confused and stunted, but if he wanted to return from wherever he’d gone, so would you. “Hey!” You punched his shoulder. “What the hell?”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

He ground his teeth, sucking them before the most sardonic smile cast over his features. “You should get dressed,” he cooed your name, the sweet tone widening your eyes, feeling the challenge in it, “I would hate for you to be late to your second first day.” He hummed, laving his gaze over the sweat glittering along your heaving chest, tiding viciously with unsated breath. “We both know what happened the first time.”

With a raised brow, “I have two capable hands,” you countered, pushing away from him. “I don’t need you.”

Quicker than you could register, he had both your hands pinned beside your head, his broad, structured body pressing fully into you. “You do need me,” he breathed, nothing feral in his tone, but sure, not a shred of doubt when he said, “you need me, and for this to work-,”

“For what to work?”

He kept quiet for a moment, a decision weighing on him, focus flicking between your eyes and the light that teased beyond the windows, along the horizon. It appeared as if time would have permitted, if the sun had slept in a second longer, he would have answered you. You saw it in his eyes, when he peered down to you, his hair a shield from the rest of the world, you saw that whatever rested against his lips – it would have changed everything you knew. Everything you did not know.

But instead, with a swallow and a sigh, he simply said, “For this to work, you do need me.”

You tested a hand from under his, slipping it so your thumb smoothed along his flushed ear. Flitting your attention between his stark, serious eyes, feeling the panting of his parted lips, you knew you were right when you said, “We need each other.” Your other hand found its earlier home over his chest; staring at its placement, feeling every smooth, unrelenting beat of his heart, you declared, “for this to work, we need each other.”

Another quiet moment, and when you looked up, you found the very beginnings of dawn claiming the shadows that had earlier claimed his irises. Pushing his hair back, you could see that even though you were right – you did need each other – he didn’t want it to be true. Not that it seemed to anger him, but something remained hidden, kept quiet in his gaze, something taut and unyielding; something, it seemed, he did not want to admit – to you or himself.

He nodded. Not a word, not a breath. But more than you would have expected from him in the past.

Equal.

“You could have just let me finish and then been dramatic, you know?” you sighed, easing back from intensity when something of amusement softened his face.

“At least for today,” he purred your name, “your world will revolve around me.”

“And why is th-oh,” the Force nudged your bud, laved at it just as his tongue might.

He leaned down one last time, lips to your ear. “Because you’re not cumming until I let you, and you have a twelve-hour orientation shift to look forward to today.” An icy thrill swept your veins when he promised, “I intend to make each one of those hours memorable.”

“You won’t be anywhere near me.”

“As I’ve found recently,” his hand teased along your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting the very tip of your nipple. When you shuddered, he hummed, “distance is no longer a barrier.”

Even through the haze of lust, there was no hiding the contempt in your voice when you barked, “And you figured that out how? Through training? While you’re still healing from not even two weeks ago?”

Kylo did not say anything, instead leaning back and letting you out from under him. He was still hard, but you had no time or want to care about that fact. Kylo watched as you stormed from the canopy and gathered your clothes from the refresher, nearly stomping. Through the gossamer fabric, you saw he was amused with you, and when you pulled on yesterday’s uniform to make the short distance to your room, he stood from the bed and sauntered toward you.

“Didn’t Belkar give you orders to not strain yourself for at least a month?” Your arms were crossed to your chest, your remaining belongings tucked beneath them. “You know, you aren’t invincible. You have to know that by now, right? Because I sure as hell do.” The image of his comatose form slithered in and out of memory. You shuddered. “Can’t you just do what’s good for yourself? This once?”

He took the step up from the bed’s level, the heightening sun glowing behind him, crowding the pale blue of the sky with every step that brought him closer. Lazily, like you weren’t lecturing him, he ran the flat of his fingers along his shaft, cocking his head when he stopped a pace away from you.

“Why would I listen to his orders?”

“Okay, then it’s my order,” you said, “because if you want to be stubborn, fine. But if I need you, then I need you at your best, not hurt and half-healed because your skull is too thick and your ego is too big to process that no matter if you are Kylo Ren, you are still human. And I am your care provider. And… I… say so.”

His lips twitched. “You say so?”

Although you barely believed the authority in your tone, you held steady, “Yes, Commander Ren, I say so.”

He’d never looked at you quite like he was now, something of stunned pride gleaming behind a much more fortified front of command. Closing the space between you, your back meeting the chilled black of the door, Kylo leaned down and studied your crossed arms. Knowing mischief flashed in them before he sought your gaze and met you with a face full of challenge.

“First,” he rumbled, his breath on your lips, “address me by my name or my title, not that rank. Ever again. Understood?”

Eyes on his plush, dawn-kissed mouth. “Yes. Second?”

“Second,” tongue in cheek, the hand he’d busied with his erection came up and plucked an article from your arms. It was only after his face became the youngest you’d seen it – taunting eyes and a broad, pompous smile – when you realized what hung from the tip of his forefinger. “I suppose mine might be more comfortable than your own?”

Your mouth fell open – in horror or at his audacity, you did not know. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, waiting for you to squirm as you viewed his boxer-briefs just inches from your face. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“They are, actually. So, if you don’t mind—” you plucked them from his grasp, not breaking his stare for a second “—I’ll take these.” He only looked between your eyes, his own glinting with amusement. “And here—” you balled up your own panties and clasped your hand to his, tucking both to his chest and smiling sweetly “—if I’ve put you out too many pairs.”

A few seconds passed where all you did was take victory in the stunned setting of his features, and when you reached to activate the door, he caught your hand and pressed a long, hard, lusting kiss to your mouth. When he finished, both of you panting, he circled a canine with the tip of his tongue and took a step back.

“Good luck today,” the door shot open and your heart thrummed at the whoosh of ice over your back. With the tone of his next words – slithering, toying, smug – and remembering his promise to make the hours memorable, you knew he meant nothing to do with your occupation when he said, “you’ll need it.”

Sighing, you stepped into the vacant landing, and shot him one final smirk. “I have my watch if you need me,” you swept your gaze over his bare, muscled body, “if you want me.” No matter if you’d meant to, you’d initiated a game, and for the first time in so long, you were excited to play.

In the few steps from his room to your own, you waited for the gentle lock that indicated the door’s close, but it never came. For a second, you wondered if it had shut and you just did not hear it, but you felt those dark, peering eyes and knew his gaze was following your every move. So when you activated your door, took one step past the threshold, you pulled the skirt of your uniform over your head and stretched your arms above, your bare back arched and ass on display.

In a marked taunt, you purred, “Think of me fondly in my absence, Master Ren.”

You did not wait for a response before activating the door to shut, but one still came in the form of an overwhelming, buzzing pulse between your legs. A high-pitched mewl accompanied your trip forward, yipping until ten endless seconds passed and the pleasure thrumming along your slit subsided.

Game on.

[HORIZONTILE LINE]

With a fresh uniform, and Kylo’s briefs hugging your curves, you strode through the manor – although, you were still unsure what to call this place – and meandered your way around until you found a kitchen. Some of the staff acknowledged you with a small nod, others too busy cutting exotic fruits and preparing for breakfast. Which, passing by two intricately stacked and arranged platters, you knew most of the food being prepared would just as quickly be disposed of.

A woman in a black uniform guided you out of the bustling kitchen, taking you to a dining room. In it was a long table, undoubtedly used for meetings and manipulation, filled with trays of meats and fruits and carafes of juices, a metal one indicative of milk or cream. A large, insulated pot with a gilded, floral handle, steamed at the far end of the table. Caffeine.

There was limited time to eat, only about thirty minutes before the transport arrive, so you took a plate, painted too intricately with the flowers you’d walked through last night, and gathered whatever sustenance might help you make it to lunch. Most importantly, you filled a delicate mug with piping hot caf and carried everything into an adjoining room.

No lights were on, only the rising dawn filtering through thin veils of curtains, and Talia sat at the very end of the otherwise empty, centered table. She was dressed, but looked disheveled, at least for her typical put-together appearance. She wasn’t working alongside you, you knew – your assignment at Canto Bight’s medbay purely aimed at incriminating you – but it was still nice to have a friend, one who was under the same roof and not acting strangely.

Her hands were clamped onto either side of her head and there was a plate of picked-at food pushed to the side, a glass of water placed before her sunken head.

“Hey, Tal,” you started, noting her subtle jump at your voice. When she gave a subtle wave, you took a seat next to her and asked, however redundant, “How’re you feeling this morning?”

A long sigh, fingers comforting her temples. “Do I look that bad?”

A pause, considering. She looked quite pale, but there was no sheen of sweat over her forehead. She was breathing a bit quickly, and her mouth appeared to be parted, like she could be sick at any second. “Well, you’ve looked better, but I’ve seen you at your worst.” A look around the room, tuning your ears to the clang of the kitchen. “Is it nausea?” you whispered.

“Stars,” she winced, more in theatrics than pain, “I’ve spent more time over a toilet than anywhere else since the beginning of this thing.”

You chewed at a fruit you’d never had before, swallowing before saying, “Is it just in the morning or is it all day?”

“Morning sickness is a cruel lie they tell unsuspecting women,” she cleared her throat, finally peering up to you. “At least that’s what I have concluded.”

“Did you sleep last night?” There were purple splotches under her reddened eyes.

A shy smile slipped onto her face, quickly faltering. “I could have gotten more.”

Your brows raised, realizing Talia had a similar night to your own. “Oh?” you hummed.

“A private half of this villa?” she lowered her voice, swallowing, looking to the arch that peered out of the room, “and then adjoined rooms? It’s like they want us to have affairs with our assignments.”

“Well,” you sighed, recounting your night and morning, “perhaps. If that’s the case, can I assume where you slept last night?”

She loosed a breath of amusement. “Shockingly, no.” She shook her head, closing her eyes again before explaining, “I haven’t told him. Yet. Still. I stayed with him until he fell asleep but made it back to my room before I could hurl up everything I’d eaten yesterday.” A small, bitter laugh. “Do you know how impossible it is to throw up quietly?”

A warm sip of caf and you tapped her wrist, earning her attention back. Eyes filled with concern, you asked, quieter than the distant shore, “Are you afraid to tell him?”

“I’ve tried,” she sighed, completely exasperated, “This past week I have had so many opportunities – traveling here, the last few days on the Finalizer… last night.” Talia ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “I want to tell him. I need to, if I’m being honest. Time sensitive issue and everything.”

“Has he suspected anything, or do you know?”

A gloom shrunk her features, her focus shifting to the window behind your shoulder. “I think that’s why I haven’t told him. Armitage is always busy, running off to this place and that. I love the time I spend with him, I do. But, his lifestyle isn’t necessarily… compatible, I guess. Not with a baby. Not with, not with a partner. Not with me.”

“Oh, Talia.”

“No, I’m okay,” she shrugged, sad eyes going back to her glass, “I think I’m just biding my time. Preparing for the worst.”

“And what would the worst be, here?”

The room went silent, still, a few staff members replacing what you’d picked from the trays. For a few minutes there was only the sound of far-away waves and the kitchen’s relentless clattering, but Talia cleared the silence with a drag of breath. “The worst would be me telling him, him not wanting anything to do with me or my situation, being removed from his service and out of a job, publicly disgraced and shamed for carrying the General’s bastard kid, and just wholly ruined socially, occupationally, and personally.” There was quiet fear clawing at her eyes, but she forced a pleading smile.

“Wow,” you breathed, cutting through the intense moment, “it’s almost like you’ve thought about it before.”

A pitiful laugh. “Yeah, just a little.”

“Well, there’s always the alternative,” you shrugged. “Maybe none of that scary stuff will happen. Maybe Hux will embrace it. Embrace you and your situation. Because it isn’t just yours, Talia,” she considered your next words before you said, “it’s his, too.” You clasped her hand, trying to get across that she could come to you whenever she needed. “When you’re ready, or at least before you’re in labor,” you shared a laugh, “tell him. I think… I think people can surprise you if you let them. Maybe Hux will do just that.”

The pact that bound you seemed to glow, such gratefulness in her expression. She smiled and slipped her hand from yours, sipped from her glass and shook her head. “Well, now that you’ve bandaged my crisis, how are you doing? Only a couple days before everything gets real.”

Though you knew it was true, you’d barely considered the trial. Aside from Karmen’s rundown yesterday, you’d spent most of your time preparing for your shift, worrying about Mason, and cooped up with Kylo Ren. So maybe it would all feel real when you got there, but as of right now you’d scarcely thought of it.

“I think I’m doing better than I should be,” you sighed, nibbling a piece of toast. “Like you said, this place is rather extravagant, and then this whole city is unbelievable. I don’t know, maybe I’m just avoiding thinking about it. And, like you, I’m preparing for the worst.”

A glum smile hardly met her eyes. “Your worst is far worse than mine. I can’t even imagine.”

“You and Mason both, I guess. Although, you’re not as cryptic with it as he’s been.”

“Trouble in paradise?” She notched a brow.

You breathed a giggle, remembering you needed to clarify, “Just trouble, no paradise. Mason and I aren’t together.”

Talia was completely taken aback, no hiding her shocked expression. “Oh. I mean, I just assumed… Are you sure? Does he know you aren’t together?”

“I’d assume so,” her tone made you wary, not sure what was so obvious.

“I’m sorry, I really just thought since seeing him in the medbay so often that you two were a thing. Like, a serious thing.”

“We’re not,” your tone was short, but you breathed before saying, “I’m seeing him tomorrow. I need- ah, ah, fu-,”

That buzzing Force claimed your cunt, drilling both sweet spots and making it impossible to breathe. After a few seconds, its presence – its master – merciless, you crossed your legs and knitted your hands together in your lap, coughing to try and hide the sensation’s vision-blurring effects.

Talia was stunned, but before she could ask, you continued, “I’m see-seeing Mason tomorr-ow, and ha! Wow, and,” it felt like Kylo was thrusting inside of you, your toes curled in your shoes. “And grabbing some clothes for the trial. He also said he wants to ta- oh, okay.” You stomped both your feet to the floor, leaning down to the table and chugging the rest of your coffee.

“Are you alright?” Talia leaned forward, but you waved a hand in dismissal.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. So clothes and then Mason wants to talk!” You stumbled away from her and tried to keep from cursing Kylo Ren outwardly, a few shouts of goodbye falling behind when you eventually got out into the main halls of the manor.

The pulse between your legs finally let up, and you had half a mind to tromp back to his room and knee him where it’d hurt, but there were five minutes before transport would arrive, so you decided it would need to wait for a later date.

“If you can hear this,” you hissed, searching the halls for onlookers, “I’m going to-,” a swirl of pressure laved your sensitive bud, sending you tripping into the foyer. “Kylo.” It let up again. He let up. Maybe you would have tried another retort, but the grand entrance slid open, and at the bottom of the dawn-draped stairs awaited CB-7070.

She had a hand clasped to her wrist, not a blaster in sight, and her face remained hidden by a white helmet. The gold band over her right wrist shimmering with the sliver of sunlight to your left. Consciously, you half-circled her, wariness creeping along your veins. Nothing she had done, but… for a second you dropped your eyes to that familiar break in her uniform. You swallowed when you looked back to her visor, not offering a smile, and keeping at least three paces away at all times.

“Morning,” she muffled out your last name, pivoting to face you. When she took a step forward, you tried not to, but you backed away in suit. She stopped her advance.

Without a word, you nodded, pushing your hands into your pockets.

CB-7070 cleared her throat. “I’ve been informed by Commander Ren that you can assign me a name if you choose.”

“No,” you said, too quickly. “No, that won’t be necessary. CB-7070 is fine. We won’t know each other long.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“Use my first name,” you commanded, running a finger along your uniform’s embroidery.

“Understood,” this time she used your own name – no titles, no pleasantries.

With only two minutes before transport, you said, “You’re aware you will not be in any of my patients’ rooms, correct?”

“I have been briefed on Cantonica’s privacy laws, yes.”

You peered side-long at her. “Good.”

When she spoke your name, there was a measure of nerves you couldn’t help but notice. “Is there anything you need from me that will make this arrangement easier for you?”

There was little time to think, but something in your head was screaming to request the one thing you felt would minimize the pit of dread rooting in your gut.

Plainly, facing her, arms crossed, you said, “Show me your face.”

Without hesitation, the stormtrooper unlatched and removed her helmet. She was dark-skinned, full lips and deep brown eyes inherent of the desert around her, genetic protection from the lifelong sun on this planet. Dark brunette curls were smoothed to her scalp, twisted into a tight bun at its base. Her face was round, and with the slight smile she gave, her cheeks crinkled a pair of gentle eyes. So young. Too young.

“How old are you?” There was a harshness in your words, not entirely intentional.

CB-7070 did pause at that. After squaring her shoulders she said, “Eighteen. Nineteen soon.” Her voice was kind, warm.

“I don’t need you to prove yourself,” you guessed as much at her posture, “I can assume if you’re here, at this… place-,”

“The Consulate.”

Consulate. “Thank you,” you continued. “Since you’re stationed at the Consulate, I can assume you’ve already done enough grunt work,” those early weeks, before Kylo Ren, flashed in your mind’s eye, dehydrated soldiers, strung out in preparation for the attack on the Republic. Sighing, watching the sky for any incoming ships, you took one step toward her. “No, I don’t need you to prove yourself. But I do need you to have my back.”

She stood even straighter at that.

“I know you’re assigned to watch me and report to the General, and I’ll just say right now that neither of us is the other’s favorite person. But I am not your enemy. I’m not an enemy.”

She looked at you, hearing the approaching ship, and just before it sped too close to blast your hearing, the young Stormtrooper nodded and said, “I was briefed on your case. You are not an enemy. You saved that man, an engineer. One of many who normally go unseen and unnoticed. I will do my job, but I am not biased to you or my General.” She angled her eyes to the sky and tucked her head back into the helmet. “As much as my assignment is to monitor you, I have been trained to protect the officers and officials of the First Order. And given you kept the Commander alive after Starkiller went down – you are one of the most important officers I’ve been tasked with.”

You hadn’t known that was general knowledge, her admission striking through every chamber of your heart. The memory of that day. People had seen such a different side of it, they’d seen you protect and serve when minutes prior you were begging for death in the dark of your residence. The day you could have used a savior, others had painted you as their own.

CB-7070 marched to the transport’s descended ramp and faced you. “Ready when you are.”

With a straight back, hands smoothing over your uniform, you approached the ramp, waiting for CB-7070 to follow behind. She stood next to you, but before you took a step further, you turned to the Consulate, and then to the sea that spanned beside and behind it, and you quieted all that Canto Bight had already presented.

Today was not about Snoke, or Mason, or Kylo. Today was about you and your patients, whoever they would be. Today you were not Commander Ren’s Care Provider.

Today you would be a nurse, and that meant more than anything.

[froggywhumpy]

Punishment

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>:)!!! finally some whump!!!! I thought this chapter was a bit longer than my others, but I checked the word count and- no. It’s not. I hope people enjoy the shorter style because all of my stories are kinda like that. I think this chapter is pretty good, too!! Enjoy our poor baby Ezra learning the consequences for his actions >:)

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Tagging: @milk-carton-whump @whatwasmyprevioususername @myst-in-the-mirror @happy-whumper @abitefullofwhump @starnight-whump @cowboy-anon @whumpasaurus101 @fromtheo-withlove

- - -

CW: Whipping, knife mention, yelling, swearing, fear of heights, Drew is really mean and Damion is sadistic

- - -

Ezra had never been more terrified in his life than he had when Drew told Damion what he had done.

Drew’s brother was older, and stronger too. Drew- well, he was horrifying, but at least Ezra knew him. With Damion, Ezra never knew whether he would act calmly, or if he would snap his arm off.

However, when Drew told his brother that Ezra had made a call, Ezra knew he was in trouble.

“You’d think he’d have a bit of common fucking sense.” The older man snapped, closing the distance between himself and Ezra in but a second.

Ezra pressed himself further into the corner, trembling like a child. “Please- I’m sor-sorry, I swear, I swear, I’ll never do it again, please, don’t- please-“ Ezra dissolved into frantic pleading, begging as if his life depended on it.

“You didn’t think you’d get off the hook without any punishment, did you? In fact, I think you need to be taught a lesson.” Damion sneered.

Ezra shook his head. “No, no no no, no- please, please don’t-“ he looked up at Drew, desperation clear in his eyes.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Ezra’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“Oh, wow. You’re so fucking stupid.” Damion grabbed Ezra’s wrist, yanking him harshly to his feet, eliciting surprised cry from the boy. “It’s really adorable how you still think he’s on your side, though.”

“Please, please please please-!!!“ Ezra continued to beg, his voice raising as Damion pulled him out of the living room, and down the hallway.

His pleas were completely ignored. Ezra was dragged down the hall, shaking as Damion opened the door at the end of the hallway.

The room Damion had brought him to wasn’t particularly terrifying by itself. It was somewhat small, and while the walls were covered in windows, the mountains weren’t visible, to Ezra’s relief. In the center of the room was a metal pole going all the way from the wooden floor to the ceiling. Against one of the walls was a long metal cabinet, running over a significant portion of the wall. Other than that, the room was empty.

Damion shoved him over to Drew, who had entered the room behind them. Petrified, Ezra whimpered as Drew brought him over to the pole in the center of the room. A moment later, Damion handed his brother a roll of rope, which Drew used to tie Ezra’s hands together, tying them to the pole over his head.

“I’ll never- never do it again, please, just don’t hurt me.” Ezra sniffed, his tears barely kept at bay.

“It’s far too late for that, love.” Drew’s frown deepened as he tied Ezra to the pole by his waist as well.

“Please, please please please- I’ll never ever do that again, I’ll- I’ll never ever..” Ezra rambled on, only somewhat coherent by this point. His pleas were ignored yet again, as Drew and Damion went over to the cabinet and began looking through it.

“Look over here.” Drew ordered. In Damion’s hands were two weapons; a knife, and a coiled whip. Ezra’s eyes widened. “Which one do you choose?”

Ezra shook his head. He didn’t want to choose- which one would hurt less? Ezra had never been whipped before. Just the thought of that being used on him sent chills down his spine. Defeatedly, he hung his head in resignation.

“The knife.”

“Great!” Drew grinned, taking the knife from Damion and approaching Ezra. Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for pain as Drew raised the knife towards him, but it never came. Instead, he felt cool air crawl across his exposed skin as Drew cut the shirt he was wearing off of his body. Ezra watched, not daring to move an inch.

Once Drew was finished, Ezra again prepared himself for the pain he was sure was coming- but after a moment of silence, he realized Drew had put the knife away, and had backed away from him.

Ezra stared at him for a moment, confused, before he saw Damion uncoil the whip.

“Wait- wait, I didn’t- I didn’t choose that one!!” The desperation was plain in his quivering voice.

“Life’s full of disappointments, isn’t it?” Damion laughed.

“That’s not f-fair!! Please, you can’t, you can-“

The next thing Ezra knew, the whip was brought down upon his bare chest, his skin instantly splitting the skin open. Ezra screamed in agony- The pain far exceeded Ezra’s expectations. He never even imagined it would hurt like this.

“Oh, stop screaming. And you might want to hold your head up, unless you want me to hit your face.” Damion began to smile, barely even audible over Ezra’s torment.

“Stop, stop, I can’t!!” Ezra sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t do anymore!!”

“Yes, you can.” Drew glared at Ezra, speaking with disdain. “And you will. I think ten lashes will be enough for you to have learned your lesson.”

“Ten?” His eyes widened further. “I can’t do ten, Drew!!”

“I guess you should’ve thought about the consequences before you disobeyed my direct orders, then.” He snapped.

Defeated, Ezra listened to Damion’s advice, holding his head up as he braced again for the incoming pain. He felt nauseous at the very thought of having to endure ten lashes.

The second hit was just as painful, if not worse, than the first strike. An anguished cry escaped his lips, blood now dribbling from his open wounds.

When Ezra heard the third crack of the whip, he was already anticipating the pain that would come soon after- that didn’t mean he didn’t still scream out in excruciating pain as the whip struck him. The phone call wasn’t even worth this. Jason would never find him. Trying to contact him was pointless. Ezra wondered if trying to escape was pointless, too.

Ezra didn’t have much time to contemplate that, as before he knew it, the whip was brought down on him again. Every time, he thought he knew what it would feel like to be struck by the whip, and every single time, he underestimated the pain.

By the time the whip cracked for the tenth time, Ezra’s world seemed to spin, distorted by pain and blurred by his tears. His body was completely limp against the ropes, and if it weren’t for them, he would’ve collapsed a while ago. Much to his relief, none of the lashes had landed on his face. Ezra was grateful for that much.

“No more,” The boy whimpered as Drew approached him yet again. “Please, Drew, I can’t do anymore.”

“There won’t be any more.” Drew sighed, still frustrated. “No more whipping. But your punishment isn’t over yet, so don’t get too comfortable.” Drew removed the ropes from his around his waist, and then his wrists.

Ezra collapsed, and he would’ve fallen to the ground if Drew hadn’t caught him. He let out a cry of pain; every tiny movement hurt.

“I’m tired, no more punish- punishment, please.” He whined.

“You deserve it.” Ezra never would’ve believed these words could’ve been spoken by his previous lover. Each word felt like a knife cutting through him. He had never felt betrayed like this ever before. Nobody could deserve this- Drew didn’t really think that, did he?

Ezra was dragged from the torture room, writhing in pain as he was lead upstairs. Ezra’s head was spinning. He was brought into a clean room. Ezra was able to make out a desk, bookshelves, a door to a balcony- oh gods, Drew was taking him onto the balcony.

“No- no, no, no, no, Drew, don’t!!” Ezra screamed, his desperation neglected as he was pulled out onto the rickety wooden balcony.

If Ezra thought the floor was moving when he was inside, it was nothing compared to how he felt on the balcony. Lightheaded didn’t even begin to describe how he felt as he stood on the poorly made platform, overlooking a 1,000 foot? 2,000 foot? drop.

Ezra was forced to his knees- he shrieked, terrified of getting closer to the cliff face, even if the difference was only a few feet. Drew pulled out a pair of handcuffs, cuffing Ezra’s hands around the wooden railing of the balcony.

Ezra gaped at Drew, petrified that movement of any sort would cause the balcony to just break. Drew didn’t seem worried in the slightest. “Now, you’re gonna stay out here until you can tell me why what you did was wrong. Understood?”

“I know why, I know why, you can- take me in now, I know-!!”

Ezra’s begging was abruptly cut off, Drew’s hand cracking against his face as he slapped him. “None of that. Shut up and take your punishment like a good boy.”

Without another word, Drew walked off of the balcony, taking time to lock the balcony doors and draw the curtains, leaving him absolutely and completely alone.

Ezra cried. He couldn’t take it any longer. This time he would die, he was absolutely and positively sure of it.

[aerynwrites]

Protector - Din Djarin x Reader

Author’s Note: I loved writing this so much, ngl, however i feel like i may have lost my edge when it comes to angst. Idk it’s probably me just being overly critical of myself as usual...but anyways i hope you guys enjoy this! It’s kinda darker than my more recent stuff but I freaking love angst so, here ya go lol. Enjoy and as always I love to hear from you all! <3

Requested? Yes! based on: Could you possibly do an angsty/little fluffy Mando x reader where their ship is attacked unexpectedly and Mando does everything he can to protect the reader but they both end up being taken and she's going to get tortured but he offers to get tortured instead to save her? Possibly loss of limb if you're up to it? Reader blames herself for what happened to him but he would rather he be hurt instead of her. (requested by anon).

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of death, fear of death, blood, mentions of torture (not descriptive really), injuries, kidnapping, and fluff.

////

You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for almost two years now. You had been with him since before the child, and you were still with him now. As expected, the Mandalorian didn’t take to you at first. He kept his distance, only talked when necessary, and was very short with you when he did speak. However, after finding the child, his walls seemed to come down little by little and eventually you both wormed your way into each other’s hearts.

Starting a relationship with the Mandalorian was a learning curve for both of you. You had to do things a little differently than usual, but you made it work, and you had never been happier. Then the day came when Din had completed his mission of finding the child’s species, and he did the right thing, no matter how much it hurt him. After leaving the child with his people, he was once again closed off, but he told you many times that having you there made the ordeal and heartbreak much easier than if he was alone. He rested his helmet against your forehead and for the first time, told you how much he loved you, and he truly meant it. He had never felt this deep and unyielding love for anyone since his parents died, not even the child. But he loved everything about you: your smile, your hair, the way you poked your tongue out when your concentrated on something. But most of all, he loves the fact that you have never once asked him what was under his helmet. Once he had explained what it meant to remove it and why he couldn’t you immediately accepted it and continued on, no matter how curious you may be. You accepted him for who he was, not what he looked like or any other physical aspects of him. And he knew that he would do anything in the galaxy to protect you and keep you safe.

Until he couldn’t.

It had all happened to fast. The two of you were docked on a planet to get fuel and supplies, a regular routine for the both of you, when a group of storm troopers and other humans stormed the mechanical bay you had landed the ship in. You had been outside speaking with the mechanic when it happened, and before Din could even get a shot off one of the troopers had you locked in his grasp, a blaster held to you head while the others all had their weapons aimed at him.

“You shoot us, we shoot the girl,” one of the men said, “We have you severely out numbered, and all we want is information. Just come with us, tell us what we need to know, and you will be on your merry way.”

Obviously neither you or Din believed a word out of his mouth, but as Din looked at the ten men surrounding him and the one trooper holding onto you, he for once, didn’t see another way out. Not a way where you survive anyway, and he couldn’t risk that. So, Din cautiously lowered his weapon and nodded at them, causing your eyes to widen.

“Din no! What are you-“ but before you could finish, another trooper standing next to you roughly rammed the but of his rifle into the side of your head, rendering you unconscious.

Din felt his blood boil and he immediately raised his blaster to retaliate, but a quick shot and a mean pinch to his upper arm stopped him in his tracks. He quickly looked down to his right arm and saw a small feathered canister lodged into his arm.

A tranquilizer. before he could take another step or rip the device from his arm the world around him went black and the last thing he saw was your limp body being hoisted into the arms of one of the imps.

* * *

Din woke with a start, the first thing he noticed was that he was in a cell, and the second being your small form curled into his side, asleep. His sudden movement at waking must have disturbed you because you peeled your eyes open and bolted upright when you saw him move.

“Oh my stars, Din!” you cried wrapping your arms around his neck in a vice grip, “I didn’t think you were gonna wake up, I was so scared.” By now you were crying again, fresh tears covering the old ones that had dried on your face.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m fine,” he gently placed his gloved hands on the side of your face and he finally saw the damage they caused.

Your hair was caked in dry blood, most likely from the earlier blow, but you also had new injuries. A busted lip and a darkening bruise over your left cheek.

“What did they do?” Din seethed, finger ghosting over the bruise.

You shook your head, “They want to know where we took the kid Din, they came in here to take you but-“ you paused holding back more tears, as your voice cracked, “but I wouldn’t let them. I couldn’t let them take you.” you were sobbing now, as you rested your face in the space between his helmet and shoulder.

“They’re going to kill us Din, we’re going to die.” You whimpered, voice thick with tears.

Din’s heart sunk as he listened to your words. He could hear the fear, the sadness, and for the first time since he was a child, he too felt a twinge of fear wash over his very soul. As he looked down at your shaking form he felt the fear weigh down his every limb at the thought of losing you. The thought of dying without getting to live his life with you, without getting to marry you and start a family with you…it made Din hold you tighter against him as the reality of the situation sunk in. They had stripped him of his weapons and armor, save his helmet, and locked you both in a cell. Din had never felt so helpless.

“We’re not-“ Din paused, debating on if he should make a promise he can’t keep, “We’re not going to die, I promise.”

His modulated voice, the voice you had grown so familiar with and attached too, somewhat eased your fears, but you knew his words were empty. Despair had settled itself in your mind and you were not hopeful of a happy outcome. The only way out of the cell was by force, which neither of you possessed without Din’s weapons, or a key card that only the guards had. You clung tighter to the him, and buried your face deeper into him, as if trying to hide from the terrible future that awaited you both.

Neither of you spoke for the next few moments. Opting instead for the comfort of silence and each others breathing. Din was absentmindedly running his hand up and down your back in some attempt to comfort you, while you were toying with the hair peaking from under his helmet at the nape of his neck. Your small moment of peace was interrupted by the hiss of the cell door opening, and you buried your head as far as it would go into Din’s neck, terrified to look at the two people who entered the room. You felt Din’s arms tighten around you protectively and you heard the voices chuckle before two rough hands grabbed your arms ripping you from Din’s grasp.

“No, no, no – please! Din!” new tears were pouring down your face as you fought against the troopers grasp, flailing your limps in a vain attempt to escape them. Fear gripping your heart at the thought of what awaited you outside of that cell door. In between your panicked movements you saw Din jump from his seated position and quickly lunge at one of the troopers. A well aimed hit to the exposed area of his neck had the trooper stumbling backwards but he was quick to regain his feet and kick Din behind the knee, dropping him to one knee and pointing his blaster at his chest.

“Not so tough without your armor and weapons are you?” the trooper seethed before jerking his head towards the door, telling the one holding you it was time to go.

“Stop – Wait!” Din’s voice stopped the troopers in their spot as well as caused you to cease your struggle against them once more.

“Take me.” He said firmly standing to his feet once more, “She doesn’t know anything, just please-“ his voice cracked slightly as he looked from you to the two troopers, “take me.”

Your breathing was erratic from the struggle and the panic still coursing through you as you watched the two troopers look at one another momentarily before roughly shoving you back into the cell. You stumbled into Din and he steadied you with his hands on your upper arms, you looked up at him giving him a fearful gaze.

“Please don’t go Din,” you beg quietly.

Din just gives your arm a light squeeze and pressed his helmet against your forehead, “I’ll be back,”  his hands fall down to yours and you faintly feel him place a small cool object in your hand, “I love you.”

You couldn’t even respond before the troopers were yanking Din out of the room, the door closing with a final clang. The moment their footsteps faded from your earshot you collapsed to the floor in a heap. You had stayed there for several minutes just crying and trying to push the horrible images of your imagination from your mind when you remembered the object still clutched in your hand. Your tears had finally ceased, most likely because you had no more tears to shed, and you sniffled quietly as you opened your hand. You had to hold back the sob from ripping from your throat as you looked down at the familiar necklace in your hand. It was the necklace he received from the Mandalorians, their crest. You knew the finality behind his action of giving this to you, and it just made you shake harder as you curled into a ball and fell into an exhausted fitful sleep.

* * *

A commotion of yelling and various grunts and exclamations startled you awake, it seemed to be a habit now, startling awake that is. You quickly sat up, pulling you knees to your chest as you heard what sounded like a fight or struggle outside the door, before they hissed open and a strange man was shoved into your cell. He fell to his hands and knees at the force the troopers used and you just sat in the corner casting a bewildered stare from the stranger to the now closing cell door. The man in the room didn’t say anything and you took the moment to take in his appearance. He had dark hair that was obviously disheveled by whatever had happened to him. He only wore pants, everything else having been stripped from him including his shirt. Your eyes then immediately fell to the angry red and scabbed over gashes on his back and arms, and your heart sunk at the realization of what had happened to this man.

Din, that happened to Din? Who was this?

You quickly stood from your place and ran to the cell doors banging on them frantically. It had been hours, possibly even days since the troopers took Din from your cell and now they just throw this stranger in here?

“Where is he?” you call, tears threatening to fall once more, “Where is Din, what did you do to him?” you cry, fist still banging against the door.

“Hey!” one of the guards bark, “Shut up. We just put him back in there. Won’t be long before you’re next.”

Your eyes widen at the Storm troopers words, and you slowly turned to face the man behind you, still on his knees and head bent in shame. You felt like you were paralyzed to the spot, unable to will your legs to carry you over to Din, the man you loved, who you were so sure was dead. Then you felt relief flood through your veins as you rush over and fall on your knees in front of him, hands grasping desperately at his neck and shoulders.

“Din?” you gasp.

The man doesn’t speak he just nods his head, avoiding your gaze as he looks down at the floor beneath you. You then feel tears fall from your eyes once more as you realize that you caused this. His mutilation, his pain, his dignity and his very way of life being stripped away from him.

They took off his helmet.

You instantly rest your head in the crook of his neck and let your hands fall to his hips, the only place not covered in whip lashes and cuts.

“I’m so sorry Din, this is all my fault,” you say tears falling onto his tanned skin, “Why did you do that? Why?” you pulled away from him now hands finally coming to rest on the sides of his face.

And even though you know you shouldn’t be seeing him, you are instantly aware of just how handsome and beautiful Din is under the helmet.

But you shake your head, “I’m so sorry they did this to you, I wish they would have taken me.”

At this comment his eyes finally looked up from the floor and his gaze met yours for the first time. And the look of anguish and shame in his eyes melted away as he looked into your misty (E/C) eyes. Then he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and brought you in for a gentle yet fierce kiss. The first one you two had ever shared.

He pulled away what felt like too quickly as he pulled you into an even fiercer hug, ignoring the injuries on his arms and back, “I couldn’t let them take you. Not since I knew what they could do to you,” he pulls away and grasps your face in his hands once more pressing his forehead against yours, skin to skin, “My job is to protect you, no matter the cost.”

Your lip wobbled at his heartfelt words and you had to stop more tears from falling as your eyes fell shut, “I love you so much,” you say for what felt like the millionth time, “I just wish we could’ve had a life, a true and long life, together.” You admitted.

“Hey,” his voice along with his face pulling away from yours made you open your eyes, “We can still do that,” he assured reaching into the waist band of his pants and pulling out the all familiar key card to the cell.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the card then back up to his face, his eyes filled with determination, and you felt a smile creep onto your lips.

“I told you we weren’t going to die, didn’t I?” he whispered.

He did indeed.

And you knew the minute you saw that card that he would keep his promise

////

Permanent tags: @maryan028​ @lord-wolfgen @petalduck​

[hornsandthings]

Can you do Cassian as a mate head cannons? Thank you xxx

hi! i struggled a bit w/ cassian’s character, but i wanted to fulfil a request within a reasonable timeframe for once hehe! kept it a bit vague but added some story too. i hope you like it and thank you for requesting! x 

headcanons: cassian as a mate (ACoTaR) 

you were a surprise. when his scouts had called him to come investigate something odd, he had expected another strange yet concerning scene involving those wretched creatures slowly encroaching upon prythian. however, it was you who he’d found on the southern borders of the court, wide-eyed and shivering in some frost-lined cave. it was so ridiculously unbelievable that cassian barked an incredulous laugh in the silence that followed, unable to take his eyes from you. there was nothing funny about it, however - you had found yourself in a place where no human should be.

he didn’t know what to do with you - he hadn’t met many humans outside the archeron family. even so, you seemed different: wilder, perhaps even savage. the way you were looking at him made him uneasy: with reverential fear, with awe, with unabashed curiosity. how ironic - he was usually the one to intimidate, not the other way around. cassian couldn’t get anything out of you - all you did was stare, either ignoring or not comprehending his questions. he was considering sending someone for feyre, but it was then when you reached out a hand to him. something about the scene - you on your knees, looking so weathered yet such… hope in your eyes - clutched at his heart, and so he grasped your dirty, shaking, ice-cold hand, not knowing for quite some time the true importance of the moment.

your presence elicit conflict within the inner circle; there had been hot and loud debate on whether to send you back, especially after nesta had identified you as one of those rotten children of the blessed. a group of misguided humans, thinking fae akin to gods. upon learning that, cassian could now make sense of your strange behaviour. it made him uncomfortable, to say the least - his life was of no more or less value than yours, yet he knew there were some fae out there who would take advantage of the power imbalance. when he turned to look back at you, he found you already staring, and he’d never forget the first words out of your mouth: “please, don’t do that. i’ve come a long way. something told me i’d find safety here.”

eventually you were granted refuge at the house of wind. you were quiet about your past, becoming reserved and offering nothing but vague responses to the inner circle’s questions. at first cassian had suspected mistrust, but he soon came to realise that you couldn’t offer any information because perhaps you weren’t able to confront it yet. you seemed to have latched onto him, often keeping him company when he was at the house - something that became more frequent over time. your curiosity was loud and genuine, bombarding him with all kinds of questions ranging from thoughtful to inane. sometimes it was annoying, but sometimes it was endearing, too.

when he finally found out about the mating bond, there was no elation, no relief. cassian had been so sure that nesta was the one, felt it in his bones despite the conflict which always plagued their relationship. and yet, to have a human mate… it was a special kind of sweet sorrow. he finally broke down in azriel’s arms one night, unable to bear it any longer. “this wasn’t supposed to happen,” cassian had croaked, knowing the chances were near impossible. the thing that fate had given him, had intended to be his life-long constant, was doomed to only be a fleeting thing. azriel had held him, quiet and thoughtful as always, pulling him back from the edge with his words: that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

the realisation had made him want to become distant - just the thought of you brought heartache. he had hoped that if he kept to the training decks and avoided the inner house, the others’ presence would keep you at bay. within days, however, you had walked right through the milieu of clashing swords and moving bodies, grasping his shoulder and saying: “you finally know.” cassian would never admit it aloud, but your severity frightened him, and your prior knowledge shamed him. he searched your eyes and found that he couldn’t ignore this. he didn’t have the luxury of it, which he had thought he’d have with nesta. there would be no miraculous transformations this time.

it took time - limited, precious time - but cassian did fall in love with you, bit by bit. at unexpected moments, you’d reveal a tidbit about your journey across prythian, and he’d gently coax some elaboration. first came all the wonders you’d witnessed: the bright landscapes, the creatures, the flowers. sometimes you’d touch upon the dangers, and your sheer constitution never failed to impress him - he even became proud of you. the most mesmerising was your faith: it was the mating bond which had guided you here, something which you never should have noticed in the first place as a human. it humbled him, to know that you risked everything to make it here. “thank you,” he once said to you in a quieter moment. “you came all this way to find me. thank you.”

while he was somewhat relieved by the fact you had gained both weight and colour since your arrival, cassian found it hard to overlook the many dangers a fae court posed to a human. velaris was safer than most - if not all - cities, but who knows which illnesses could befall a human and spare a fae. he couldn’t help but worry when you were out alone, or when even a seemingly normal cold kept you down for a few days. during those periods, he’d stay at your side despite your - and the healers’ - reassurances, loathe to give up even a single minute. you two had already lost so much time; oh, how he had wished he had found you earlier. you’d hold his hand, comforting him rather than him comforting you. “i promise i’ll be alright,” you’d murmur, carding your fingers through his hair. he’d find comfort in your soft breaths, in your warm skin.

rhys had eventually caught on, and urged cassian to live in the moment. “you’re grieving her before she’s gone,” rhys had said, a sad and understanding smile on his face. “she deserves your utmost attention instead.”

one night he watched you closely as you sat on his lap, tracing the faded scars on his wings. you hadn’t yet asked, and quite frankly, cassian wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted. your touch was soothing, however, light and loving. “i’ve got scars there, too,” you murmured, making cassian frown and grip your hips. he shifted until he could catch your eye.

“on your back?” he clarified, taking care to be mindful. you nodded, slowly shrugging off the nightclothes. it was unconventional, the way you showed him - coming close and hugging him tight, letting him see the long, raised lines on your back as he looked over your shoulder. the sound he’d made was involuntary - a mix between a growl and a gasp. he pulled you even tighter against him, big and gentle hands caressing your back. again he was reminded of human fragility, but also human strength. your strength. you nosed along his neck, pressing a kiss there to reassure him that you were fine.

cassian made a vow then, cupping the side of your face. his voice was not as solid as usual, but the same conviction was still there. “i’m just a man, my heart. i’m not as powerful as you think me to be, or as noble. mother above, i’m bastard born. i don’t deserve half the praise you afford me. but i do love you, with every fibre of my being. i promise you’re safe here, and you’re safe with me. i love you so much, now and--” he faltered, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i’ll always love you.”

all you did was smile and nod, giving him a sweet kiss. it took effort to not break down with all the worries that crowded his heart, but cassian forced a deep breath and kissed you again, and again, and again. you had become so very important to him so very quickly that sometimes it felt like whiplash, but you were worth it all.