#sobs i don’t know their ship name sorry

[mnt-artss]

polyamory jumpscare

reblogs silly :3

[lilylovestowrite]

We all know that Aventurine's love language is definitely gift giving! So I would like to request aventurine spoiling his s/o with so much money and gifts. At first reader was thankful and also flustered with all of the gifts he provided for her, but later reader started to become annoyed cause he's been spoiling them too much, so one day they decided to text aventurine about this matter. They only just called his name and he already thought that they needed money so he sent the money. Reader was surprised at first but then got annoyed and decided to scold him in the chat (to which aventurine didn't take them seriously and even teases them, finding amusement with his lover's anger) make this a playful banter between the two and at the end, aventurine decided to meet up with them to pamper them, but this time, with affection ✨

MUST BE FUNNY, IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ (Aventurine x GN! Reader)

WARNINGS ୨♡୧ None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ You decide to confront your boyfriend over his overzealous spending habits. 

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.4k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I love Aventurine SO MUCH. I want to hold him and cherish him but I think he deserves to be thrown down a flight of stairs because he’s such a brat. I am so normal about this man.

Divider by @/cafekitsune

‘I saw you eyeing this crystal swan the other day. When you and I get married, I’ll buy the whole store and decorate our venue with them if it’s to your liking- Kakavasha’

You are going to kill your boyfriend. 

You are going to kill your boyfriend over a Swarovski Swan on your bedside table. And thirty bottles of the same Dior perfume you wore once around him. And every piece of designer clothing he’s gifted you. And that one time he rented out a whole cruise ship just to play tag with you over a moonlit river. Well, perhaps not the last one. You liked the idea, the execution? A little overkill.

But this? Overkill can’t even begin to explain how much Aventurine has been spending on you recently. Just before you started dating, he would regularly spoil you with large bouquets of your favourite flowers and a few lovely pieces of jewellery. It was sweet at first: you remember blushing and hiding your flustered face behind your palm, only for him to kiss your hand and usher it away. “Stop, you look super cute when you’re flustered,” he’d say, but now, a deep pit of shame hollows the joy out of every gift he gives you. He gives, and gives, and spoils you, but what do you have to offer? 

You do appreciate his gestures, and it feels lovely to be kitted out in the finest gossamer, or the softest of silks. The aroma of expensive perfume smells less chemical-ly and manufactured compared to your old bottles. There isn’t a day that goes by where your flower vases in your house aren’t filled with high-end flowers. It’s affection, sure, but, you wish he didn’t feel as if your love is something to be bought. 

With Aventurine, you have to be careful with your communication. He may play off other people’s rude comments about his origin or his affiliation with the IPC. Other people’s opinions don’t matter. But you know how much he cherishes you, and you don’t fit into the bracket of ‘other people’. If you seem too dismissive of his efforts, you fear that he may feel rejected. Picturing his sad face drooping makes you only want to let him coddle you, but you can’t allow this to happen anymore. You ponder your text carefully, before hitting send. 

You: 

Kakavasha. 

Peacock <3: 

My love? 

Are you upset with me?

I’m so sorry, let me handle it. 

Oh, wow. That was a quick fix. You sigh in relief and put your phone down, allowing yourself to get more comfortable in the covers. Another ping erupts from your phone, and the notification nearly makes you turn around and sob. 

Peacock <3 has sent you 1,000,000 Credits

You: 

STOP SENDING ME MONEY

I’M NOT YOUR SUGAR BABY FFS 

So much for being ‘careful with your communication’, but 1,000,000 credits is insanity! Does he think he can buy you off? You sigh and watch the text bubbles load as he types. 

Peacock <3:

Darling, what do you mean?

I want to spoil you! 

And if I’ve done something wrong, I’ll make it up to you!

You:

Then. Maybe. ASK

‘What’s wrong?’

BEFORE SENDING ME A SHITLOAD OF CREDITS

Peacock <3:

What’s wrong, angel? 

You reread your messages and realise how aggressive you're coming off, so you decide to talk to him face to face. Surely, his suave tongue and pretty face won't distract you from the matter at hand. Right?

You:

Let’s call.

You have started a call with Peacock <3

“Kakavasha, stop sending me money!” You hiss the second he picks up the phone. It’s the early morning, and hues of liquid sunlight paint your lover’s skin in light gold. Streaks of light coming through the blinds of his window shine through his gorgeous eyes, turning them translucent like opalescent marble. Aventurine gives you a tiny lopsided grin, the same one that creeps onto his face when he’s plotting something, and you don’t like it one bit. “

“How else am I supposed to show my adoration for you?” His silken, honeyed voice echoes through the phone. You have to stop yourself from giggling at his lovely voice, the cadence rising and falling masterfully, all perfectly orchestrated to let you listen to him instead of arguing. 

But you don’t take the bait yet. 

“I don’t know, maybe spend time with me?” You reply, but you can’t conceal the blush on your face when you realise that he’s only just woken up. His light blond hair is tousled and one of the cat cakes stretches on his lap. Although Aventurine dresses to impress, it’s the domesticated, sweet mornings where he truly shines. 

“I do spend time with you. We went to see the Opera just three nights ago!”

“Without money being spent, Kakavasha. I want a simple, romantic date. No renting out hotels, no extravagant jewellery, and no mariachi band like that one time-” 

“In my defence, I was completely wasted-” He interjects, giggling softly at the memory of planning a lovely beach date after consuming wine like water, and then ordering a band on a whim.

“You were barely awake, I drew a moustache on you.” You muse. Watching Aventurine’s face morph into an angry pout, like a kitten, makes you emit an ugly laugh. 

“That was you?” He gasps, clutching his heart with faux sorrow. Dramatically falling back on his black pillow, his golden locks are spread. Aventurine’s half lidded gaze and light pink blush makes you want to crawl into bed next to him and trace patterns into his hands, and his lovely eyes would-

“Don’t distract me from the matter at hand! Please stop spending on me, sweetheart. I’m not saying I don’t like your love, I want it! Just not in such an excessively materialistic way, you know?” 

This comment breaks Aventurine’s suave attitude. He blinks at you through the camera, positively perplexed. His eyes are wide and shocked, resembling that of a deer tasting cardboard. “H-how else am I supposed to show my love for you?” 

“Well, how do I show my love for you?”

Aventurine’s eyes look up, trying to recall: “You hold my hands,” he lists one on his fingers,  “listen to me when I speak, you support me through hard times,” he smiles warmly at you, flashing a toothy grin that makes his nose scrunch up cutely, bring back pebbles that remind you of me…” A devious smirk makes its way into his face and you prepare yourself to interject: “and you bite my as-” 

“Enough!” You reprimand him, but your tone is soft. “See? I don’t buy things for you to feel loved. You’re much more than a bank, even if other people don’t make you feel that way.” Suddenly bashful, Kakavasha looks away from you. Perhaps unused to such affections, he hugs the cat cake on his lap closer to his chest. 

“I just want to give you the best of the best.” He replies defensively, and you sigh softly.

“You are the best of the best, Kakavasha.” 

“Then,” his voice cracks in an attempt to hide his shyness, “let’s meet up at your place. Let’s stay inside and watch a movie? I hear that’s a popular date idea.” 

“Perfect. My door is open, we can do face masks and-” The call is interrupted by one of the cat cakes jumping on his head, causing him to tumble off the bed and clutch onto the sheets for stability. Instead, his finger hits the end call button. You giggle softly. For all of his cocky displays, Aventurine, at his truest form, is just a little bit of a dork. 

Said dork knocks at your door, dressed in a lovely black dress shirt and his white pants. You suddenly feel a little self conscious, in your bunny slippers and oversized dress shirt. But the way he hugs you and lifts you off the ground slightly for a kiss, it makes you feel like a national treasure. You waddle your way onto the couch, still hugging, and collapse into the plush cushions.

“So, what movie are we feeling today?” Aventurine pulls a blanket over the two of you, and your eyes brighten with an idea. “The Great Gatsby?” 

“Mm, tragic ending. No. Let’s hold that thought.” He leans over and gently pries the remote out of your hand. “Instead,” he kisses your nose and pushes you into the couch a little more, “let me show you even more ways I can show my affection for you.” He whispers, and captures your lips for a deep kiss…

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Hi! Congrats on 1000 followers!

Could you do a cg! Rafe Cameron x little! Reader with the prompts "shh, go back to sleep. you need it." and "shh shh, no, it's alright. you're fine, shh."

Btw, I love your blog and I’m so happy you’re doing obx fics now!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you’re fine ⋆ﾟ⊹ ➢ event masterlist

» rafe cameron x reader

» a/n: hope you don’t mind me taking some creative liberties and making this pouge!reader turned kook!reader

» warnings: set sometime in season 3, talk of canon events, pouge!reader turned kook!reader, pet names, nightmares, angst, crying, hurt/comfort I’m still not sure I like this

Rafe jolts when you wake up with a choked off scream that quickly turns to a sob, he moves from his place in a chair in the corner of the room to the side of your bed in seconds, already reaching to rub your back.

“Shh, shh, no, it's alright. you're fine, shh.” He soothes and pulls you up into his lap when you reach out for him.

“It’s okay baby, you’re alright.” It’s so gentle coming out of his mouth you’d swear it wasn’t Rafe if it wasn’t for the moonlight coming in through the window lighting up his distraught expression scrunched on his face.

It’s been months of this. Of waking up in nightmares that leave you shaking and grasping for Rafe to be at your side, of Rafe doing absolutely everything he can to comfort you, of you trying to adjust to living in Tannyhill with Rafe rather than back on the Cut near Jj’s house where you grew up. You and Jj don’t talk anymore, none of the pogues give you so much as a sparing glance, they’re all too aware of what side you chose when you didn’t flee off that cargo ship with them- you stayed with Rafe.

“I- I was back there-.” Rafe tightens his arms around you with a low shh that you listen to easily, leaning into his touch and letting him start to rock the both of you in place.

“You’re not there, you’re here with me. We’re safe and back in obx, we never have to be there again.” It’s not the fear that was steadily coursing through your veins on that boat that bothers you, really it isn’t, it’s the look of absolute betrayal that spread over all your old friends’ faces.

It’s something you can’t shake and while you know you made the right decision- you, Rafe, and Barry melted the cross down, you’re all rich, Ward isn’t around to bother you, you’re living a better lifestyle than you’ve ever dreamed- it’s still stomach churning to think about the pogues. You don’t even know where they are right now or what they’ve been up to, once they found out you helped melt the cross that was it, you had hope that maybe they’d see where you were coming from but that crossed the line. A line you truly didn’t think existed.

You grew up on the Cut with them, hell you had problems with Kiara when John B introduced her because she had a house on Figure Eight, you never thought you’d end up on this side of island for anything more than a job or a party, you thought you’d be with them no matter what, that nothing that happened would break the bond between you and the other pogues and now-. If you think about this too much you’ll get a headache.

“Shh, go back to sleep. you need it." The feeling of Rafe’s chin hooking atop your head brings you back to where you are.

“I’m sorry.” After that day on the boat where you had clung to Rafe the second you two were alone, crying and scared, slipped so far into your headspace you couldn’t think about that fact that you were hugging around Rafe Cameron- it feels like all you’ve done is apologize to him. The guilt of absolutely everything you do eats at you, no matter what choice you make it ends up hurting someone, you end up being the problem.

“You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Rafe replies with zero hesitation as he always done. He’s never questioned your loyalty to him or said you need to get over what happened with the pogues, in some weird way you think understands it, he doesn’t have anyone but you and Barry left. And even then- Barry betrayed him once, you can still feel the tension between them at times because of it.

“You’re always taking care of me and I’m still a mess.” It took all of two seconds for Rafe to jump into caregiver mode on that boat when he realized that you were regressed, you don’t think he’s ever gotten out of it. Months later and nothing has changed, he’s taken on the role as your caregiver without a single question or judgement made, as if he already knows everything he needs to know to watch you.

“Shush baby, it’s not your fault those pogues put you through so much.”

Logically you know Rafe’s version of events are skewed and probably will be no matter what you say- but it still hurts a little to think he blames them in full. It was your own fault, you went along with every plan they came up with from that first day John B said you guys should go out looking for the royal merchant after that storm, and even if you eventually felt out of your depth and like things were getting too hectic and you wanted to tell them to stop- to go back to how you all were before- it’s still on you.

“They’re never going to forgive me.” You whisper and truly don’t mean to, that was supposed to stay in your head.

“They’ve put you through hell, you aren’t the one that needs to be forgiven, you made the right decision. The smart one.” You nod at Rafe’s serious but soft tone and curl farther into his chest.

“Yeah, I’m glad I have you.” Everything else aside- you’d do anything to keep Rafe around, he’s there for you in a way none of the pogues ever have been and you can’t ignore that.

“You’ll always have me baby.” He presses a kiss to the side of your forehead and lays you both back against the bed, shifting slightly so you can lay over his chest and he can pull a blanket over both of you.

“Try and sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” You hum to Rafe, letting your eyes slip shut in contentment. He will be here when you wake up, you know that, you’d never doubt that, and it makes some of that guilt slip off your shoulders.

[alexa-fika]

hey I love your writing so much I had an idea but I’m not good at making stories so the other day I remember that when I was little I used to run a lot so I fell from a boat and you know I was swimming away while my parents almost got a heart attack how about a child reader with red haired pirates it would be funny , only if you want you don’t need to do it have a nice day or night

Take off (Red haired pirates x m!child!reader)

A/N Here we go, guys can you believe this is the last of the requests from APRIL like that’s so crazy to me, I want to take you for all of the requests and for trusting me to bring them to life

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Readerin Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

The Red forced was the same as always, with lively chatter among the crewmates as they partied over their newest conquests, not taking their eyes off the child running along the Deck

“What has got you this happy, Dokucha?” Lucky piped in, taking a bite from his chicken and laughing merrily at the young boy

“Uncle Shanks found a plane in the loot!” He cheered, waiving around said toy around

“Why did they even have toys? The crew didn’t have any children on them,” Limejuice questioned, downing down a mug of beer

“The crew was big on woodwork; they had a couple of pieces here and there littered on the loot,” Shanks answered, joining the group with his own mug in his hand, his first mate not far behind

Dokucha grinned, ignoring their chatter as they launched the toy, beaming as it glided around and rode on the same wind that pulled the Red Force along

“Dokucha, watch where you are going!” Yassop called as the child ran behind the plane, trying to take hold of it

“Don’t w-

His words die out as the floor disappears behind him, and they quite literally run themselves out of the ship. The last thing he heard was the scream of his name as he made an impact with the water, another splash following after his

He gripped onto Beckman’s similarly soaking clothes as he pulled himself over the side of the deck

“Im sorry, Daddy,” he cried, hugging him tighter and sobbing into Beckman’s already drenched shirt as they both sat on the Deck, Hongo crouching in front of the two, checking over the boy, the rest of the crew crowding around the two much to the displeasure of the first mate, a glance to his captain was all the latter needed to quickly dismiss them, leaving only the officers littering the deck

“Everything seems in order; no water seems to have entered the lungs, and no damage from the impact; next time, make sure you pay attention to where you’re running, okay?” He asked, giving Dokucha a small smile as he ruffled his hair and took his leave

Teary eyes glance up at his father, trying to gauge his emotions

He sighed, turning them around on his lap so that they were facing him, as he wiped the tears from the boy, his own dripping hand not making much difference

“I saw the dive you did before you hit the water,” he comments, giving up in the action as he recalls the safety position he had seen them take before colliding with the water

“You told me to do it if I ever fell in the water.”

“You did well; you had good reflexes as well; now we just need to practice keeping our eyes on the path,” he said softly, rubbing his knuckles against his cheeks

“You’re not mad?”

“We’re pirates; we’re going to have our slops from time to time; everyone here has fallen to the water at least once, though not everyone was as gentle as you, ain’t that right, Punch?”

The latter lets cackles as he happily takes over the small boy as he recalls the less-than-proud moments from the crew

“You know, Monster here once fell overboard; you should have seen the little rascal. It was like watching a b….

Beck watches his son regain his previous demeanor at Punch’a stories go on, and he heads to his quarters to replace the now flimsy box of cigarettes lost to the sea

“Shanks,” he called

“Hm?”

“You are banned from giving any Toys to Dokucha.”

“W-What, come on, Beck! We can talk about it,” the captain whined, following after his vice-captain

Uncle privileges revocked 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[eatommo]

All is Fair [d.d]

Summary: A heated argument lets emotions, and confessions come to the surface.

CW: din djarin/female reader, the helmet stays on, angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, confessions of love, din leaves bruises on her, marking kink, rough sex, d/s dynamics, use of pet names, p in v, creampie, mentions of gambling/bets, mando'a, oral (m reciving) (I probably missed some sorry)

a/n: This is a little messy, I'm just falling so hard again and need to get some of my own pining out. enjoy :)

You swear you hear the creak of his gloves tightening around your arm, “I told you to stay inside the ship.”  His fingers are thick and robust as they dig into your flesh, properly leaving your skin purple.  Helmet sweeping side to side he scans the crowd for someone showing too much interest, “The imps have eyes everywhere, you're going to get us killed.”

“Right. Because you’re an average man walking around, definitely not  inside your own fucking casket.”  His grip gets impossibly tighter, and he stops in his tracks, halting your movement completely. The adrenaline in your body peaks as his blank, concealed, stare fixes on your face.

“You’re tiresome.  Did you know that?”  His voice is pure vitriol, you’ve never seen him so angry.  “I don’t care if I get killed but you can’t be bringing the kid out for a dessert run.” 

“It was his idea!”  Deep down you know he’s right, but being cooped up in the crest for weeks has made you all antsy, and the kid was very persuasive.  “We didn’t just get cookies.” You try and keep your tone even, emotions mounting in your throat.  “I got some bacta, and a new compressor for the carbonite chamber.” His posture is iron, shoulders, and head still as a rock and you trail off.   

“You could’ve told me to get those things.”  He turns away from you and pulls you back towards the ship.  There are several coos and cries from the pouch now snug to dins hip and covered by his skewed cape.  “You can’t let the baby tell you what to do.” 

He’s been nothing but kind to you, and although you hate him confronting you he would’ve gotten anything you asked for, he always has.  “You’re right, I’m sorry, but you don’t need to scold me like a child.”  

His hand loosens slightly as if he is becoming conscious of hurting you, as he practically shoves you forward with his body while you instinctually resist. “This isn’t the first time you haven’t listened to me.”  

You set your jaw, swallowing more bitter words, and scan the crowd with him, slightly turning your head every few steps to get a glimpse of people behind you, just like he taught you.  Miraculously, you make it to the hangar without another bitter word.  

Even as he pays the balance of the ship repairs his hand doesn’t leave its place on your arm, the man glancing between the two of you suspiciously.  Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, and you begin to feel like a scruffed loth cat.  “Do you have to drag me by my bones?!”  You twist your arm in an attempt to escape, but all it does is shoot lightning through your arm down to your wrist.  

He remains silent until he practically throws you onto the ramp of the ship.  To further your shame, you trip and fall to your knees scraping them both on the rough texture of the ramp.  With a huff and barely-kept tears, you storm up the ramp and drop the sack of supplies on a crate, heading straight to the fresher for a rinse in the shower, in a desperate effort to collect yourself. 

The ship takes off in no time with a lurch and the immediate hum of hyperspace envelops the crest.  Only then, do you feel safe enough to let out a choked frustrated sob.  The cry is relatively quick, and the water does wonders for the tight knot of the new bruise on your arm, but not quite the cleansing of your heart you were praying for. 

You rinse the soap from your hair rigorously and not kindly, in an attempt to shake the need for these bruises to linger until they faded without the use of bacta.  He would think you were being ridiculous, he might even taunt you about being young and dumb if he found out how you felt about him.  You’d be lying if these weren’t tears of heartbreak, he embarrassed and chastised you in front of crowds of people and practically dragged you halfway across town.

Yet, you found yourself wanting to seek him for comfort.  Longing for the long nights of telling him about your childhood on bespin, and the comfort of his laugh as he gave you a simple story about the fighting corps that had your eyes full of admiration and bewilderment.  He had been kind and soft and protective.  Today was the first time you remember him being so assertive with you, with enemies and bounties yes, but never to you.  

Maybe it was time for you to take off.  The thought felt like a slap on the cheek, and you bite your lips as you swipe across the ripped flesh of your knee.  It is not a terrible scrape, but the skin is tender and bruised around the minor cuts.  You wanted him to apologize, and you wanted him to see you bleed, you knew he’d feel terrible, he stepped on your foot last week and apologized three times.

Stepping out of the shower you realize that in your rush to the refresher, you didn’t grab a pair of clothes.  Swearing to yourself, you take a look at your dirty clothes from earlier.  They're caked in sand, and rather than put them on you’ll wrap yourself in -shit- his towel.  Sending a prayer to the maker, whoever she may be, you open the doors and set your gaze on the floor towards your bunk and set course confidently.  Unaware he is watching intently from the container you left your sack on until his boots are in your vision.  

He hears the squeak die in your throat and watches your heart race as he scans your near-naked frame with his visor.  His breath catches in his throat at the sight, his hand still radiating warmth from holding your skin even with his gloved hand.  He wanted you, and his body responded to the small friction of your body against his front like he was a teenager.  Then he starts picking up on the scrape on your knees, and the swell of a bruise on your left arm.  As your heart leaps into your throat, he drops to the floor on his knees, he hurt you.  In his scared frustration, he scolded and towed you around like a misbehaving massiff.  

This is where his career failed him, he could de-escalate a bar fight, but he had heard apologizing to a woman was not easy, especially when he so desperately needed you to forgive him.  Not to mention the beautiful distraction of his cock twitching in his pants as he settles on your face, trying not to think about your skin smelling like him.  “Focus.”  Fuck. Did he just say that out loud? 

“What did you just say?”  You take a larger step forward, your leg peaks out of the wrap of the towel, wrath keeping you from caring.  “I always admired your bravery, and now I’m wondering where all the audacity came from.”

He stammers, modulator picking up his sharp confused gasp, “No. I mean-”.

You don’t give him the chance to finish.  “I want to go home.”  The words dry your tongue to ash.  But his posture goes rigid again, and for the first time since you met, you’re afraid of him.  

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” As a wave crashes over him, he resets.  His shoulders slumped over, and the helmet hanging as if he is adverting his eyes.  You watch with bated breath as he reaches up in a familiar movement, flicking through types of vision processors in his helmet, and your blood turns cold.  

With a fluid movement, he guides your hand to his shoulder with his free hand and reaches for your calf with the other, pulling your leg free to examine the scuff on your knee.  

You misread him and in your panic pull away, falling over your own feet his grip catches you as your towel parts to reveal almost your entire body to him.  He’s standing slightly, having to abandon his seat in his efforts to catch you.  The helmet snaps to your eyes, and then to the wall beside you as he stands you up.  

You take a step back while adjusting your towel and holding it closer to you.  “I’m mad that you treated me like a child.” He keeps his eyes trained on the wall, “I shouldn’t-” 

“I panicked, I was worried.”  He is defensively talking over you, but also afraid to tell you of his feelings for you so his voice is low. 

“Be carted through the city on a leash like some misbehaving whore.”  The words are pouring out of you as if coating your tongue with honey as they crack across his bleeding heart, far too much happening too fast as he scrambles to catch up.  

“I want to go home.”  You say it again, but this time it's less convincing as he comes to rest on his knees in front of you.  

“I’m sorry.”  He creeps pathetically closer to you, resting back onto his feet and leaning the forehead of his helm against your stomach seeking comfort that's more intimate than you’ve ever offered.  “I’m not good at these things.”  He shifts again, this time looking toward your face until just the chin of the visor is digging into the skin of your abdomen, “I’ve never had the chance to look after something I’ve cared about so much.”  His voice although clear is quiet, shy even, “I was so scared I didn’t even think until I saw you set the bacta on the crate.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, tears slipping down your face wordless as you watch him grovel, you must be dreaming. 

“Ni ceta.”  His heart aches in time with the throbbing pain of his knees on the floor, and for the first time since pridefully placing his helm on his head, he wishes he could abandon it at your feet.

Everything he does is intense, he is fiercely protective, he is lethal, and you might even describe him as passionate when it comes to his creed.  The child, who you assume is somewhere sleeping, was possibly the most fiercely protected baby in the galaxy.  Having come to know him over the last few months, you wondered how he ever survived on his own, he cherished the companionship the two of you have brought and he always seems to welcome your antics, often at his expense.  Like a light in a dim alley, the conclusion flickers in your brain, it's the only thing that makes sense. 

“I’m sorry I brought him into danger.”  You clear your throat, unable to look away from the dim reflection of yourself in his visor.  “I’m just feeling a little like a prisoner.” 

He says that unfamiliar phrase again, “Ni ceta, mesh’la.” [I kneel, gorgeous] In what you assume is Mando’a, “I will do better.” Your hands twitch at your side, as you fight the urge to caress his head. 

“Okay.”  You give a reserved nod, the ice in your heart melted and you feel as vulnerable as ever.  “Is the kid asleep?”

 Mando gives a soft hum, “He ate a few cookies and then promptly collapsed in his pram in the cockpit.”  You realize his voice is hoarse but he clears it, “Can I give you some bacta, and make you some caf? I know you won't forgive me right away.” He trails off, as the glint of his helm holds your stare. 

“I’m not upset with you anymore, you don’t need to get anything for me, I can still walk just fine.”  A small giggle erupts from your chest, surprising the two of you.  There he is. 

He stands but doesn’t do anything but lean back slightly, “I want to.  I feel terrible.”  You take a step back as he stands, he speaks in a hushed tone, “I’d carry you around if that’s what you’d wanted.” 

There’s a glitch in your brain he doesn’t miss, and it's hard to ignore the small sound that you make, suddenly he’s thankful for the privacy of the helmet and the loose-fitting fabric of his flight suit.  “Is it what you want?” This is an interaction he is slightly more comfortable with, albeit a little rusty.

You clear your throat and shake your head as if the intrusive thoughts will fade with the harsh movement.  “Yes and no.”  You settle on a bit of honesty while also playing coy.  “Who doesn’t want to be carried around by a big strong mysterious man?  It’s every girl's dream.” 

“Maybe I should add that to the list of services I provide.”  He is leaning up against the walls of your bunk, subconsciously blocking you from abandoning the conversation and seeking the warmth and privacy in your bunk.

“We probably would make a killing.  But I wouldn’t want you to…” You trail off, not initially liking what the taunting was morphing into, but what the hell? “To carry anyone but me if I am honest.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to?”  He’s tasting the sweetness of your confession on his tongue, processing it while trying to keep the tone light.  

“I want you to want to do those things outside of guilt.” The conversation is far past smooth, nothing like the holodramas you’ve imagined the two of you a part of.  “I want you to like spending time with me.”

“I do feel guilty, but I would do these things for you regardless, and I do like spending time with you.  We both do, or I wouldn’t fight so hard to keep you here.”   There’s an air of caution in his statement, he’s scared of rushing headfirst into his adoration of you and scaring you, even if his face is protected in his bashful admission. 

“You do?”  You squint an eye at him as if scanning him through your own tech-clad helmet.  “Are we on the same page?” You chew on your lip, analyzing his cool, relaxed posture before settling on his pitch-black visor again, in the flicker of your heart you know he’s meeting your stare.  “I like you.”

His chest rises sharply with an inhale as if he’s been injured and you quickly try and find a way to backpedal out of this conversation.  “Well, maybe we aren’t. I was going to say I’m in love with you.”  

If you didn’t know the child was asleep, you would’ve thought he was pushing you toward his dad.  There was a tug at your heart and you rush to embrace him, met with the cool metal against your bare skin.  Your instinct calls for you to kiss him, and you want to terribly, but you’re unsure of what his customs allow.

You let your hands search for the gaps in his armor, looking for warmth and settling right below the gusset of armor on his back and squeeze him so impossibly tight he groans contently.  “This feels so weird, I’m sorry I don’t know what to do.”  Your cheeks heat, and he chuckles.

“What are you trying to do?” He finally seems to have settled into the space in front of you, a pliant but also stiff bundle of warmth juxtaposed by the cool faces of his beskar plates. “I can take the armor off if you’re trying to get comfortable.” 

“I know how to do it, I just don’t know if I’m allowed to.  I want to kiss you Mando…”  The bashfulness in the way you bury your face into the crook of his arm, makes his heart skip to an unfamiliar beat in his chest.  

“I can take everything but the helmet off, I would eventually.  I’m not ready for that.”  Now he’s the insecure one, how could you want to be with him without seeing him? “I know it’s not ideal, I’m sorry.”

You sense the insecurity right away, and rather than letting it fester in his always-thinking brain, you do your best to soothe his worries with a caress and a change of subject.  “Everything else you say?” Lifting your brow, you hook the rim of his chest plate with your fingernail, separating it slightly from its place. “I can wait for the helmet,” you look up through your eyelashes,  “ I want to feel you.”

Lacing your fingers through his, you stroke the palm of his hand silently asking for permission to remove them.  He nods slowly, and you slide beneath the fabric slowly revealing the tanned, callused skin.  Human skin.

You remove the other glove, letting your fingers soak in his radiating warmth.  Drawing long slow circles on his palms, you search for his approval but his head is fixed on your hands in his.  He is rigid and his posture is stiff, as if afraid if he moves you’ll stop.  

Every nerve in his body is alight, he’s practically vibrating as you run your fingers along his skin, your hands are cold and feel wonderfully soft.  It takes everything not to whine when you go to take his vambraces off and the comfort of your touch is ripped away from him.  

“I don’t know how to do this.”  You admit, well aware of the whistling birds that are more than dangerous and you're afraid to set them off.  He laughs nervously, and you’re leaning so close to his face that you can almost hear the air without the modulator. 

“It’s safe.”  He reaches over and shows you how to remove the armor.  As you lift it away you motion for him to remove the other one while you get to work on his chest plate.  The heavy metal plate joins the rest of it in a compartment to his left, and you lay your hands flat on the broad plain of his chest.

He moves, remembering his strength, and tilts your elbow until your hand is resting on the zipper hidden beneath the collar of his cape.  Working in tandem, he removes his cuirass as you unzip his flight suit.  

Your vision rakes over the ripple of his muscles, a few bruises and scars mark his skin, and you without thinking lean in and leave an open-mouthed kiss over a yellow bruise on his left peck.  This time you are close enough to hear the whine that escapes from beneath the helmet in time with his posture going slack with a flood of goosebumps on his skin. 

The noises go straight to your core, the idea of this hard exterior broken by a hint of your mouth on his chest is enough of an invite to step closer.  Slotting between his feet, you press your mouth to the center of his sternum, chasing it as he flinches away from your cold hands brushing against his lower stomach before curling into the fabric to pull him tight against you.  

He steps back, maneuvering around the crate and leaning against the wall behind it so he can slot his thigh between your legs gently inviting you to grind against the cool metal plate, only separated by an ever-falling towel his brain scrambles, only thinking about how your mouth feels hot against his skin and wondering what you taste like.  

You lean harder into him, feeling the weight of his cock dig into your stomach and trying to focus on nibbling on the tight muscle of his shoulder as the fabric of his flight suit falls off his shoulders.  You hear a loud clang as he throws his head back, likely breaking something behind him, when you dig in your teeth and suck hard on one of his collarbones.  You suckle and kitten lick at the same time, the groans and shivers only provoke you further, only pulling away when your lips start to feel swollen.

He’s thankful again for the privacy of his helmet, as frustrating as it is to not return the favor he can’t seem to regain control of his limbs and jaw, everything going slack as he fights the urge to rut against your body like a horny teenager. 

The weight of what's left of his armor is dragging the thick fabric to the floor, revealing the rich sculpted muscles of his abdomen and the tortuously scandalous dip of his hip bones.  The dull ache of your jaw is ignored as you trail down his warm skin, laving across his nipples as you take your time kissing him, tasting the salt of his skin. 

You blow across the trail of kisses, knowing that the air will feel cold and feeling a little dauntless.  A shiver rolls through him, bringing his hips forward as if begging for your attention.  His cock struggles against the fabric of his underclothes, its weight heavy and practically weeping a delirious amount of precum.  It's the hitch of your breath at the realization of his size that breaks his stupor.  Digging one hand into your hair and shoving the final confines of his clothing to the ground, he takes his cock into his hand, using the precome to tease the head just above your waiting mouth as you admire.

You finally meet the visor with your eyes again, as he stokes himself tauntingly above you, he’s thicker than any you’d seen before, his fingers not even connecting around its circumference, and the flesh is a tad darker than his skin, with slightly darker veins throbbing for your waiting mouth. 

He swears under his breath, as you let your tongue rest on the underside of his thick tip.  He pulls you onto him, barely pressing into your mouth but the edge of his heady moan is irresistible, you need to hear it endlessly until he begged you to stop.  You take more of him in on the accompanying thrusts, swallowing around him as tears brim your eyes.  There's a sense of desperation as he loses his composure his movements less consistent and his body relaxes into the skilled warmth of your mouth. 

By the time you work your way to the base, his sparse curls tickle your nose as you hum around him in contentment, and drool runs down your chin onto your chest.  You realize in embarrassment that you were holding onto the towel, placing it under your injured knee for padding, and you settle more comfortably onto the ground, allowing you to start caressing his balls with your hand. 

His gasp is sinful, depraved even as his hand furls tighter in your hair, teasing the line between pain and pleasure.  You moan around him as he twitches against the back of your throat.  Gently you shake your head side to side, as you get the last inch or so into your mouth.  You hear another loud smash as his head hits the wall a second time, you pause waiting to hear the hiss of a cracked pipe.  Instead, he tugs your head back and forth, hand griping tight but the pace is teasingly gentle.  

Humming in approval, you look up, watching his body fight for breath between curses and moans.  Maker was he handsome, his skin was riddled with various scars and bruises but remained soft and clean, the muscles of his body taut with pleasure and even quivering in his legs as he fought the urge to cum down your throat.

Surprising himself, he guides your head all the way off him, letting himself get a good look at your swollen wet mouth and your naked body as he pulls you back to your feet.  “You’re so beautiful,” he is practically whispering, and you feel as though he’s caressing you with his voice, “Can I,” you step closer to him, pressing more open mouth kisses to the tender base of his throat, “Kriff, Can I fuck you?”  

You hum against his skin in affirmation before taking his collarbone between your teeth and sucking a fresh mark into it.  His arms wrap around your frame as he effortlessly lifts you and you wrap around him, pressing a few gentler, less hungry kisses to the helm where you envision his hairline.  He manages to open the door to his bunk and lays you down.  

He finally gets your entire body laid open for him, letting his hands caress your sides, committing the shapes of your body to memory as he runs over the planes of your body, stopping for a moment to drag his rough fingers over your nipples.  You arch into his touch, feeling as though he is dragging a heated blade of pleasure across your skin.  Coaxing your thighs open with the backs of his hands, he emits a low groan as he swipes two fingers through your folds.  “You’re so fucking pretty.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but he rolls your clit between two fingers effectively shutting you up.  He nudges against your entrance and then slowly stretches you open while continuously toying with your clit, scissoring two fingers while paying close attention to any shifts in your breath and small noises.  

He pushes his fingers up, and your legs try to close as the new pleasure makes your vision fuzzy.  “Keep those legs open for me c’yare.” He demands, massaging that spot a few more times, and you feel as though you’re gasping for each breath in time with the movements of his fingers.  

Just when you’re about to start begging for him to let you cum, he stops completely, using the moisture on his hands to slick up his length haphazardly before lining up with your fluttering pussy. 

Again, his gentleness stuns you, slowly rocking his hips as he edges deeper into your core.  The stretch is shocking at first, but he gives you plenty of time to adjust, slowly circling your clit with his thumb.  He hooks your legs around his waist, grinding deeper and deeper until his face is hovering inches from yours.  

He presses his forehead to yours in a keldabe kiss.  Each slap of his hips is punctuated by your breathy gasp that fogs up his visor. He’s finally close enough to your skin to smell his soap lingering, and it awakens a part of his brain he didn’t know existed. 

“You’re mine, mesh’la.” He rubs your clit just a fraction harder, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

You struggle to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but the need to please him is greater than your need for breath, “Yours Mando,” His body is fire compared to the cool air of the crest, causing your skin to flush hotly, and a sheen of sweat coating your body, “Anything you want.” 

His grunting is entirely animalistic, the ship could fall out of hyperspace or get attacked by purgills and he would be none the wiser.  The tight grip of your pussy drives him further into insanity, he feels his orgasm creep up his spine and even then he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop. “Yeah? I’m gonna cum inside you baby.”

He sits up slightly, changing the angle of his hips to shove impossibly deeper into you as you tighten around him, your own orgasm brimming.  With each faltering snap of his hips, your whine grows louder until you’re pleading with him to cum inside of you, feeling like it’s the only possible way to bring you relief.

He cradles your head in his arm, needing to feel your moans ripple across his skin as he feels you squeeze him like a vice, your legs shaking and practically bucking him off you with the force of your orgasm.  It’s only a few more thrusts before he’s spilling himself inside you and grinding deep until his nerves are on shot and his body is ready to collapse from the stimulation. 

A few quick moments pass, and while collecting your wits, you search his visor again, longing for just a bit of eye contact, but unable to find anything, you give him a soft smile. “I owe Peli 50 credits.” 

Almost unbelievably bubbly, he resigns “I owe her 150, I think we got caught in a sure bet.”  You feign surprise. “I can’t believe she knew before we did.” 

“Sounds like she was a double agent. Maybe she just thinks she’ll get another baby out of it.” Your cheeks heat before you can finish speaking and he’s blushing profusely beneath the helmet. 

He hums in contentment, letting some of his body weight rest on you as he slips free, before shifting to lay your head on his chest.  “I love you.”  His hand rubs circles at the base of your neck, but he can’t help but stare at the dark bruises on your arm. “I’ll get up and get you some bacta in a moment.” 

“I love you too.”  You listen intently to the steady falling rhythm of his heart, as you come down from your highs together.  “I think I’d rather have them.”  You gently run your fingers over the deep purple marks you’ve sucked into his skin, smiling sadistically at his sharp intake of breath. “It’s only fair.” 

[literaryavenger]

Until My Last Breath

Summary: Bucky has always told you he'll love you until his last breath and, through it all, you loved him just as much.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Language probably. No use of Y/N. Mentions of death. Mentions of violence.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: I've been so busy working all summer, then my computer broke and I had to replace it and then when I finally did I had major writer's block. Then, out of nowhere, I got this idea and wrote it in like two hours... Thank you fanfic Gods, and also I'm so sorry for maybe the saddest fic I've ever written.

Masterlist

1941

“Please don’t go…” You whispered, holding onto his army uniform like a lifeline. Bucky sighed. He didn’t want to go. But he had to, he was about to ship off to London with no idea as to when he’d be coming back. Coming back to his mother, to his sister… Back to you. 

“You know I have to, doll…” He whispered back, his face buried in her hair while he inhaled her scent, trying to commit it to memory as if he hadn’t done the exact same thing thousands of times now throughout his life. “But I’ll come back to you… I promise.” You both knew that was something he couldn’t promise, but it didn’t stop either of you from clinging to that promise. He’d find a way back to you, even if he had to walk backwards through hell to do it.

“I’ll wait for you…” You promised him in return, and you both knew you meant it. He was it for you, it was him or nobody and if he was to never come back, you’d die alone before marrying someone else.

“I love you, doll… And I’ll love you until my last breath.” With one last kiss to your forehead, he’s gone and all you can feel is the coldness from the absence of his body against yours. 

1943

“Hey!” Bucky called the attention of all the soldiers around Steve, Peggy and himself. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

Amongst all the clapping and cheering, a sharp voice could be heard. A call of his name that made Bucky’s heart beat faster. Before he could even turn around properly towards the sound of your voice, you were throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

He almost thought he was dreaming, holding onto you like you could disappear at any second while glancing at Steve, who had the goofiest smile because he knew what was coming next.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” You smacked his chest after pulling away, but Bucky could barely feel it or even hear the words coming out of your mouth. 

All he could see was you, your beautiful face, your eyes full of tears, your lips moving but the sound not reaching his ears. 

He stopped your scolding by gently holding your face, a soft smile on his face. 

“I did promise I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” He said quietly and you couldn’t help but soften and lean into his touch.

“I’m so glad you’re okay…” You whispered back and hugged him again. “I love you, you dumbass.” He chuckled at your playful insult. “And I’ll love you until my last breath.” You added and he melted against you, holding you like he had no intention of ever letting go.

1944

You couldn’t believe it when Steve gave you the news. You didn’t want to believe it, tears in his eyes before he could even get the words out and promptly caught you when your legs gave out, not a coherent word coming out of your mouth, only desperate sobs. 

He waited until you calmed down enough to breathe normally again before he told you Bucky’s last words before he fell, wanting you to know his very last thought was of you.

“He said to tell you he’ll love you even after his last breath.”

1954

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peggy asked quietly for what felt like the hundredth time.

It had been 10 years. 10 years since you’ve lost Bucky, 10 years since you lost Steve and 10 years since you joined Peggy, Howard and Colonel Phillips to help them found SHIELD.

And you couldn’t spend one more day like this.

“I told you, Peggy, I… I know he’s alive.” You said stubbornly while resting your hand on the glass of the cryochamber you were about to enter. “He’s out there somewhere and, when he comes back, I’ll be right there with him.” 

Peggy sighed. She knew by this point it was useless to argue, having tried countless times ever since Howard revealed his cryofreezing invention to you both and you volunteered to be the first one to reside in one.

You had fought more times than you cared to remember because Peggy insisted that your inability to accept Bucky and Steve are gone and move on was just not healthy. 

Deep down a part of you knew she was right, but you didn’t care. You could just feel it deep inside of you, that they weren’t gone, not for good. And you intended to be there when they came back, no matter how long that took, because you certainly couldn’t live a life without them.

Howard helped you carefully lay down on the chamber and gave you one last smile, Peggy squeezed your hand and, almost as fast as falling asleep, you were unconscious, your last thought of Bucky’s face and his voice saying those seven words as you mutter them to yourself,

“I’ll love you until my last breath.”

2016

After the fall of SHIELD and Natasha released all their and Hydra’s files on the internet, she found an old file about a secret project that only had Peggy Carter and Howard Stark’s name on it... And, weirdly, Steve’s.

It took a couple of years of digging to find it, and to find him, but finally the team managed to find Bucky’s apartment in Bucharest and this time Steve had a very convincing argument to make Bucky go with him. 

He ran behind Steve, both of them sprinting through the hallways of the Avengers Compound to get to Bruce’s lab.

They arrived just as Tony and Bruce managed to get the chamber open safely while Dr. Cho stood by just in case anything went wrong.

Your eyes fluttered open like you were merely waking up after a restful night of sleep and you looked around at all the strange faces, until your eyes settled on a pair of blue eyes and blonde hair. 

Steve’s eyes were full of tears like you remember them when he told you Bucky died, but his expression was anything but painful.

But before you can even start processing that, Bucky came into view. His face was shocked, his legs almost working on their own as he walked closer to you like his body’s being pulled towards you by some magnetic pull.

As soon as he was close enough, he cupped your face gently like he was trying to make sure you were real and he wasn’t imagining you, he wasn’t dreaming this.

You leaned into his touch on instinct alone and you reached out to wipe the tears streaming down his face. In that exact moment, with the feeling of your skin against his, he knew it was real. He had you back.

He pulled you into a tight hug that you returned, the both of you staying there like that for what felt like hours before Steve had to pry Bucky away so Dr. Cho could check you over, Bucky never leaving your side or even letting go of your hand.

It was a very emotional day for all three of you which ended with Steve retiring to his bedroom with a kiss on your forehead before you and Bucky went to one of the guest rooms to sleep.

Neither of you could, or wanted, to keep your hands off each other as you cuddled close in bed between soft touches and sweet words.

“I knew you’d come back to me…” You whispered while nuzzling your face in his chest. 

“I’ll always come back to you…” He whispered back. “I love you… And I’ll love you until my last breath.” He added just as he felt you starting to fall asleep.

2018

Even as the both of you tried to get accustomed to the 21st Century, Bucky didn’t see any reason to wait any longer since he’d been eager to ask you this question for the last 80 years, and it didn’t even came as a surprise to you when he got down on one knee on the roof of the Compound after possibly the most romantic date you’ve ever had. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you… You got me through war, you got me through Hydra, you get me through every day of my life… And I know now, more than ever, that I’ll love you until my last breath. Will you marry me?”

Needless to say, you jumped on him while squealing out a yes and peppered kisses all over his face before he kissed you senseless.

You got married less than a month later right in the yard of the Compound, surrounded by the entire team that quickly became like your family, Steve obviously was both the best man and also gave you away.

It was the happiest day of both your and Bucky’s, both of you promising to love each other until your last breaths.

2024

Those are all the moments that flash in front of your eyes. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. Nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times in the last eight years. 

But an unexpected enemy came at Bucky and, without even thinking about it, you jumped in front of him. He didn’t even notice until he heard the sound that came out of your mouth as you fell to your knees.

Everything became blurry after that and, by the time Steve arrives at the location you and Bucky are in, every enemy is dead and Bucky is drenched in blood, none of it his own.

He’s holding you close to his chest, chanting ”Please don’t go, please don’t go” like a prayer as tears stream down his face.

You can’t see anything other than him, your eyes locked on him as he desperately tries to keep pressure on the bullet wounds but blood is pouring out of you faster than can register. 

You stop his frantic movements by cupping his cheek weakly, a single tear falling down the side of your face as you struggle to get words out.

There’s so much you want to say to him, how you wish you’d have more time, how he shouldn’t blame himself, how you want him to move on and try to be happy, how scared you are right now to leave him but you can feel there’s nothing more you can do. This is it. But you only manage to say three word,

“I love you.”

His blue eyes are the last thing you see before you sleep into nothingness and you feel a peacefulness you didn’t think was possible this close to the end. But you can’t help it because you know, despite it all, you did love him until your last breath.

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

Childe, Kazuha, Ayato, and Scaramouche when they accidentally hurt their lover during a sparring/duel? :D

Yes my dear. My apologies for the wait, sobbing my panties wet and stuck in my ass crack for this mishap :( and my apologies that your last request got lost in the interwebs of the darks and lights. I love you thought, so I hope you can forgive the internet. And me, but mostly the stupid internet. :)

Childe ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・

He wouldn't realize it at first because you mask your pain so well, and he was very into the moment of it. He was in his zone and he was getting more aggressive as the duel went on.

However, he would notice the long pauses and heavy breathing you would do when he struck you, and you blocked. But each block was slipping, as he was getting near to striking you.

He was starting to notice this, but it didn’t fully hit him as of yet. As he was still in his own bloodrush to notice your injuries.

It finally dawn on him when you missed your block, and he accidentally struck you hard, sending you flying back and hitting the wall behind you.

Immediately Childe turn pale, drop everything and sprint to you, as he immediately looked down at your tired and bruised body and panic.

"Hey Hey Hey, why didn’t you say anything?! You have so much bruises! You are bleeding so much! You could have asked for a break, I wouldn’t use that against you!"

Childe scold you as he was panicking, when he looked at your wounds and the state you were in.

You were too tired to respond, but you looked at him and gave him a smile, to show that you were okay.

He sighed in relief, but guilt plagued him, as he felt that he should have never hurt the one he loves. Yet, here he is, hurting the one he loves.

He would kiss your cheek, and pick you up. He would carry you back to the Fatui headquarters and patch your wounds up there.

He became extremely protective of you, he doesn’t want anyone to see you in this state, he doesn’t want anyone near you. He would yell, hiss, and point his sword at anyone who dares to approach.

Kazuha ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・

You two were having a sword duel, as Kazuha liked practicing his techniques and trading tactics with you on his style of fighting.

You were blocking his sword perfectly, and striking back perfectly.

You two were laughing and having fun actually, and joking with each other. It was just a friendly battle.

Until he raised his sword in the air and strike down on you, you missed the block, and his sword slashed you.

You immediately coughed up blood and fell forward, as your face fell and planted into the sand.

Kazuha widen his eyes in shock, as he realized...he just did the same move as Raiden Shogun did to his friend.

Immediately he screeched your name and fell to his knees, he turned you over and looked at the sword slash from your left shoulder to your right hip.

Kazuha began to panic, and tear up as he apologies repeatedly to you. "My love, I'm sorry, I am so sorry, I am sorry my love, please forgive me, please."

He cupped your cheeks. You then opened your eyes and placed your hand on top of his, as to let him know you are okay. But you were too weak to talk, and blood was leaking out of your mouth and nose.

Kazuha kissed your face repeatedly, as if he was about to lose another precious person to him again. "I...I don’t think I'll ever forgive myself for this love..."

Kazuha picked you up and carried to back to Beidou's ship where you were patched up and set to rest.

However, at the very night, Kazuha took his own sword, and aimed it to his chest, his hands were shaking, he would never forgive himself, he sighed and looked at you sleeping in your bed.

He then put the sword down, and stayed by your side, at least for now.

Ayato ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・

He would notice immediately and stop before your injuries get worse, either that, or let you win the deul.

He is sharp, so he would notice these things very easily, he would call you out on it immediately.

"Darling, is there a reason why I see so much cuts on your body? Have we not talked about communicating to me when you are injured or need healing?"

He would look after you himself, of course, he would still tease you about it as well.

"Haha why are you blushing at that request my love? I have seen your naked body plenty of times, is it so weird I ask you to undress so I can look at your wounds?"

He would look at each wound carefully, and kiss everyone of them. "My apologies for not noticing how harsh I was being sooner, I didn’t mean to cause such unprecedented harm to you."

He would wrap your wounds lovingly, ask you which ones hurt the most

He would clear his schedule to look after you, and make it up to you by buying you your favorite foods or cuddling you, massing you.

His priority is making sure you are comfortable and healing properly, anything that stresses you out would immediately lead him to be stern.

Ayato is very firm on your boundaries, so if work pops up, no matter what, it can wait. Monsters? It can wait. Archons dying? It can wait. Celestia dropping to the ground? It can wait, there are other people qualified to handle it.

Scaramouche ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・

This fucking little shit bitch with his ben 10 team umizoomi undies.

He would scold you at first, calling you weak, and scolding you on how the world will crush you.

He would push you to fight a little bit more because he would lecture you on how the world isn’t going to go easy on you, and how the world will crush you whole, like it once did to him.

However, once he strike you and you fell back, he immediately felt guilty. Of course he will be verbally harsh about it.

"H-Hey! Are you stupid?! Watch your surroundings, that is the number one rule in fighting!"

Without realizing, he would see the large wound on your ribs bleeding and immediately go to you and tend to you.

He would lift your shirt and look at the wound, take his outer layer shirt and press against it.

You would look at him surprised as he was focused on tending to your wound. Once he met eyes with you, he would blush and give you an angry face.

"What?! Don’t look at me, fool. Humans are such weaklings..." He would complain but as he spoke, he would lift you up, and push your head against his chest.

He would carry you to Nahida and ask her how to help heal your wound, however, he would refuse to talk about him worrying about you.

He refuses to bring it up, but he would sneak glances at your wound, he would notice you being in pain, and would INDIRECTLY make things easier for you.

You are in pain from reaching something, next day, somehow it's now more reachable to you because its on the lower shelf.

You are in pain because you are cleaning your sword, next day, somehow they are all clean.

He cares about you greatly, unless you were his fourth betrayal, but he cares about you, and he is holding onto you so much. But he is afraid of showing attachment to you as he doesn’t want to be weak in front of you and show you his weakness to you. But he does care for you. He wants you to handle this world better then him, and doesn’t want the world to crush you like it did to him. He would never wish that on you. He will always be there for you.

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 1

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: A mission gone wrong results in you losing a large part of your memory. What happens when you wake up and you can't remember the love of your life?

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Big thanks to my friend, @cordeliasdarling , for betaing most of this fic :)

Word count: 827

You Don’t Even Know You’re An Angel

Captain Marvel’s ship lands on the Avengers compound, as soon as the door opens she carries your body out to the medical team who already awaited your arrival. There is worry and fear all over her features. She lays you onto the stretcher and follows them to the med bay. You go into immediate surgery and she is forced to wait outside.

Not long after, Fury finds her and sits beside her, "It was an ambush, I didn’t see it coming. She was unconscious when I found her," she says, tears running down her face.

Fury puts an arm around her, "She’s gonna be okay," is all he can say.

After several hours of surgery doctor Cho comes out to find Carol. She explains everything they did to you and how they’re gonna follow up next, "She’s gonna make it," that’s all Carol hears and it’s enough to allow her to breathe again.

"Thank you, can I come see her?" Her voice is desperate.

"It’s best to let her rest for now, you should get some rest yourself." The Captain nods and reluctantly goes to find one of the empty rooms upstairs.

A couple of days go by and you remain unconscious, Carol awaits anxiously to see you, but doctor Cho advises against it. She hasn’t slept at all, the trauma of seeing the love of her life lay almost lifeless before her too heavy to bear.

The next morning Kamala is sitting with The Captain attempting to cheer her up when the doctor comes to find her. "Can we talk? Privately."

Kamala goes to stand up, but Carol stops her, "Stay," she instructs before directing her attention to doctor Cho, "what is it?"

"It looks like she’s gonna make a full physical recovery, but there has been some damage to her brain" the doctor explains quickly so as to not get anyones hopes up.

"What do you mean?" Carol asks with a shaky voice.

"There are indications of memory loss, but it is impossible to tell the gravity of it until she wakes up." The Captain looks at her intently, "You may come see her now."

Carol walks slowly into your room, Kamala following her closely. You’re still asleep, looking weak and hooked to more machines than they can count. The Captain approaches you and carefully holds one of your hands, almost as if you’d crumble if she held it too tight, "I’m so sorry I let this happen to you, angel, you’re gonna be okay and I’ll be right here with you," she whispers, trying to stop a sob from escaping. Kamala can only watch the scene unfold in front of her, unsure of what she should do.

Some time goes by and they settle for sitting in the room and waiting to see what happens. Kamala takes it upon herself to distract Carol from the unconscious body of her lover. They’re in the middle of a heated argument about some menial topic when the heart rate monitor starts beeping faster and you stir awake. "I’ll go find doctor Cho," the girl jumps to her feet.

The blond woman stands up instinctively and gets closer to you, "Hey," is all she can muster.

"Hey," you respond, your voice is raspy.

"You’re awake." A smile begins to form on her face.

"Yeah, where am I?"

"We’re at the compound." Her voice is impossibly soft, you nod in understanding, "Kamala went to get doctor Cho."

You pause for a moment, "So you’re not my doctor?" She falls silent.

The doctor arrives, followed by the brunette girl and she begins to perform some tests on you, after confirming everything physical is in order she begins to ask you some questions.

"Do you remember your name?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where we are?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"No."

"You were on a mission that went wrong," she explains, "do you remember your partner?"

The blonde woman looks at you expectantly, holding out every last bit of hope, "No." She feels like she’s just been stabbed in the chest, unable to take it anymore she storms out of the room.

"Okay," the doctor begins, "it seems you have lost some of your memory. However, the extent of that you will have to find out on your own. Everything physical looks fine, I’m afraid there is nothing else we can do for you."

A nurse comes by to give you a care package and pain meds, you’re ready to leave when you see the brunette girl still standing in the room, "Can I help you?"

Recognizing the severity of the situation and realizing that no one else is gonna take charge she decides to take matters into her own hands. She puts on a big smile and says, "I’m Kamala and I have been appointed your re-orientation agent."

It takes you a moment to register her words, "Did you just make that up?"

"Follow me." Her smile not faltering.

Tell me all your thoughts!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

Chapter 2

[bluemirrorangel]

Can you please make some Dallypop headcanons? (Dallas Winston x Sodapop Curtis)

sorry this is so lateeee, I had exam retakes all week.

I hope these are ok :)

General:

Soda is the type to flirt with his friends. He’s used to them rolling their eyes or jokingly going along with it, so when he meets Dally and he joins the gang, naturally, Soda flirts with him. He is honest to God gobsmacked when Dally flirts seriously back.

Dally calls Soda pretty boy.

Dally had Soda’s attention ever since they met, he just found him so interesting.

Soda was the first in the gang to meet Dally, they met at a rodeo.

Soda always had a thing for Dally but managed to convince himself it would never work out because Dally was too avoidant and uncaring. This changed COMPLETELY when he saw how good Dally was with Johnny.

Both of them find each other's accents attractive but are too embarrassed to say it.

Soda was a little intimidated by Dally and his reputation.

Soda is a LOT more open-minded about  Pony and Curly’s relationship because he’s dating Dally and he doesn’t want Ponyboy to think he’s a hypocrite.

Dallas used to be in a gang back in New York.

The closest Soda’s ever come to New York gangs is when he took Pony to the movies to watch West Side Story.

Their first kiss was after a rumble, Dally had a bloody nose and almost got arrested they were running from the cops, and they’d ducked into an alley to catch their breath Soda was laughing, he’d moved closer to Dally so he could check if his nose was broken. And no one had ever really cared about Dally like that, he was all hopped up on adrenaline and endorphins and how Soda looked in the lamp-light and he kissed him.

Their relationship isn’t technically a secret but they don’t talk about it.

Share clothes like crazy; jackets, shirts you name it they’ve shared it.

Soda thinks Dally’s hair is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, used to get distracted by how badly he wanted to touch it.

They aren’t super into pda but they’re CONSTANTLY roughhousing.

Before they got together Dally went to the DX purely to see Soda.

Soda makes fun of him for being named Dallas but being from New York. 

Soda thinks Dally is one of the most attractive people he knows, he just finds his appearance striking.     

Canon compliant 

Never actually got together.

Never hung out alone much because Soda didn’t want to cause trouble for Darry in case the social found out.

Made out a couple times.

Kind of a situationship-type deal.

Dally had Slyvia and Soda had Sandy, but there was always tension between them.

Dally still called him Pretty Boy, but it always had a bitter undertone to it. Soda could never bring himself to mind.

Soda HATED hearing about Slyvia cheating on Dally when he went to prison because he knew deep down he’d never do that, he’d wait for Dally forever.

Cradled Dally after he died, had to be dragged away full-on sobbing.

Dally’s death fucked with Soda more than he was truly aware of because he never truly had time to process it; he had to help Pony grieve Johnny and then there was the rumble and the court hearing and Sandy’s baby. By the time he had the chance to finally breathe and realise how much he missed Dally, he was leaving for Vietnam.

leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do head canons for them if you want :)

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Moonlight - T. R. x werewolf fem!reader

A/N: this is the eighth part of this series. It’s mostly unedited so please be nice 💛 No use of Y/N. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated 🥰

Series Masterlist

CW: Tom being angry on our behalf, our roommate getting her punishment, mentions of bullying, a briefly suggestive moment, apologies, pet names, and the appearance of one of my rarepair ships. Let me know if I missed anything

1097 words

The next day at breakfast, there’s a big commotion in the Great Hall. You hesitate at the entrance, unsure if you want to find out what’s going on.

Luna skips up to you, tucking her arm around yours. “You’d better go in,” she says.

You look down at her. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Your roommate is getting quite the talking to,” Luna says airily.

“Talking to?” You frown. “From who?”

She just gestures for you to enter the Great Hall. You enter slowly, moving your way through the mass of students all trying to watch what’s going on.

In the middle of the room, there’s a small group of girls huddled together. Your roommate is at the front, clearly crying. Tom is standing in front of them, looking absolutely livid.

Hermione’s at the front of the crowd, watching with a smug look on her face. You have no doubt this is her revenge against your roommate.

“What’s going on?” You ask, walking up to her.

“Sweet victory,” She replies, leaning close. “Your roommate’s after you because of Tom, so I figured the best way to deal with the situation was to address it directly.”

You’re confused about what she means until Tom speaks up. He hasn’t seemed to notice you yet.

“What—“ he snarls— “were you all even thinking?! That I’d congratulate you? That I’d honor your behavior? That I’d even fall in love with you?!”

The girls all look utterly ashamed. Most look close to tears. Your roommate, practically sobbing her eyes out, speaks up. “It’s just not fair!”

“What isn’t fair?” Tom hisses.

“That she gets all your attention and we get none!” Your roommate wails. “We’re just as good as her! What makes her so special that—“

“Everything.” Tom interrupts, his voice cold and final. “Everything makes her special. She’s a thousand times better than you.”

Your roommate just cries harder. Some of the other girls burst into tears as well. Tom’s expression holds no sympathy or compassion for them.

“If you ever,” he says coldly, “harm or bother her again, I will personally see to it that your families are disgraced and that the entire wizarding world knows what a bunch of jealous backstabbers you are.”

Hermione looks at you triumphantly. “Sweet, sweet victory,” she croons. You can’t help a small smile at her words. But a flicker of concern works its way into your expression.

“You don’t think it’s too strong of—“

“Nuh-uh-uh!” Hermione holds up a hand. “She basically poisoned you. She deserves this.”

You take a deep breath in and let it out. You look back at Tom. You know Hermione’s right, but part of you can’t help but feel a little bad.

Tom’s gaze finally falls on you. In an instant, you could swear he knows exactly what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.

With a dramatic flick of his robes, Tom walks around the crying girls and over to you. Your roommate starts wailing.

Neither of you pay her any attention. You start to, but Tom reaches out and lifts your chin up. Your eyes go wide, face heating up. Your gaze is locked on his, a sudden breathlessness in your lungs.

“Don’t feel sorry for her,” Tom says firmly. “She deserves every last bit of shame and guilt. No one tries to poison you and gets away with it.”

You just nod, mouth dry. He’s so close to you, his thumb lightly tracing along your skin. It sends hot tingles throughout your body. His intense gaze doesn’t help at all.

You’re fully distracted from feeling sorry now. A little too distracted, judging by the way Hermione coughs into her fist. “There are people watching.”

Tom blinks and lets go of your chin. You’ve never been so relieved and disappointed in your life.

He turns to the crowd and announces, “Show’s over! Go back to breakfast.”

With a collective groan, the crowd disperses. Hermione gives you a knowing nudge before disappearing off to go sit with her other friends. After a moment of hesitation, you follow Tom.

He glances at you, but doesn’t look particularly surprised as you sit next to him. In fact, a slight smile curls at his lips. Not that you’re staring at them or anything.

A soft sheepish, “Hi,” pulls your gaze away. Pansy and Mattheo are sitting across from you two. You tense immediately. Tom’s hand gently rests against your back. It sends a shiver through you, but you do relax a bit.

“We just wanted to say we’re sorry,” Pansy says. Mattheo grumbles quietly. She elbows him. He yelps and sighs. “I’m sorry for yelling at you or whatever.”

He sounds begrudging, but you supposed any apology from him is better than none. “Thank you.”

He nods and looks away. Pansy leans against him.

“I’m sorry too,” she says. “We tend to act first, think later when one of our friends are hurt.”

You can understand this. Hermione often acts the same way about you. You offer Pansy a small smile. “It’s okay. I get it.”

She smiles back and holds out her hand. “Still, I promise I won’t do it again. We’re friends now.”

You shake her hand. “Okay.”

She smiles and starts piling her plate with food, nudging Mattheo into a conversation about Transfiguration homework. You listen in for a little while, but quickly get distracted.

Tom’s hand is gently rubbing circles on your lower back. It feels nice. Really nice. It takes everything in you to not lean into his side like Pansy’s doing with Mattheo.

“Love,” Tom murmurs into your ear. You shiver. You hadn’t noticed he was so close. “What are you doing today?”

“I have a study session with Cedric,” you reply softly, trying not to stutter over your words. His proximity is messing with your ability to speak. “And then I’m free the rest of the day. Why?”

His hand slides to your hip, gently nudging you closer to him. “I want to show you something. Someplace. It’s special to me.”

Your heart flutters a bit. You look up at him and give him a soft smile. “Okay.”

He smiles back and it makes your chest warm with happiness.

“Oh, get a room, you two,” Mattheo groans, interrupting your moment. “I’m trying to eat my breakfast here.”

Pansy elbows him. “Like you’re any better, Mr ‘I can’t study till I’ve had a kiss first’!”

You laugh, grateful to her for breaking the sudden awkward tension. You fall into a peaceful quiet with Tom as the two of you watch Pansy and Mattheo bicker with each other.

[lifblogs]

We're a Family

Week 10 Prompt: Hugs Alt. Prompt: "Just when were you planning on telling us that?" @summer-of-bad-batch Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 3004 Summary: Crosshair tries to find closure over Tech's death. Author's Note: I can't take all the credit for this fic since one of the main ideas for it comes from @fea-warriorheart, specifically involving grieving and Tech's recordings. READ ON AO3

The darkness of the Marauder weighed on Omega, and it had drawn her from sleep to waking leaving her thinking she was in a cell again. But then she recognized the lights that were still on, recognized her family’s soft sounds as they slept. Restlessness took her as it usually did this time of the night, and she knew tossing and turning was useless.

Suddenly she had the sense that someone was watching her, and she thought she caught a glint of familiar brown eyes in the dark.

“Crosshair, are you awake?” Omega whispered.

“No. Are you?”

Omega covered her mouth to hold in her giggle.

It quickly subsided as she saw shifting in the dark, Crosshair getting out of his rack. He came over to hers, and she sat up.

“I need to talk to you,” he said. He tilted his head towards the cockpit, and the entrance to the ship. “Outside.”

Omega nodded, and got out from under her blanket, following him into the balmy night air.

He leaned against the ship once they were outside, and it looked like he had acquired a toothpick.

Omega crossed her arms as she waited for him to speak, an almost-cool wind caressing her and playing with her hair. Still, it remained a warmer night on Pabu than usual.

“I… I need to see where it happened,” Crosshair said, rough whisper of a voice almost too quiet for Omega to hear. He wasn’t looking at her. “I need to see where… where he… where…”

Omega caught on, and her chest filled with terror and hurt and shock and loss, and—

She dragged in a ragged breath, turning from Crosshair. She covered her face with a hand, the other fisting in her pajamas.

“It’s too dangerous,” Omega eventually said. “That’s what Hunter would say.”

“I don’t… I can’t move on,” Crosshair admitted. “To me he just… disappeared. He was never dead to me. I was in that mountain, thinking he was alive, because I told him to run and hide. And then in all that… darkness… I find out my brother’s been dead for weeks, and now for months. But he never died to me, do you understand that, Omega? He’s not dead for me. I keep expecting to see him, keep expecting to have someone else there annoying the kark out of me. And he’s not there.”

Omega came forward, and took his hand, not sure who she was doing it for.

“So much happened so quickly,” she said. “I’m not sure I’ve been able to move on either.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s go to Eriadu. Please, I need to see. I need to know.”

Omega shook her head, pulling at his hand insistently. “You do not want to see that. I did, and now my dreams keep picturing it, keep showing me how high the fall was, and it hurts. It hurts because I wonder if he was afraid, if he wished he could say goodbye, if there was something he had badly wanted to do and had to let go of. And did it hurt, when he—”

Crosshair pulled her close then, arms wrapping around her, and her sobs were muffled against him.

“I’m… I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said.

“No. You had to. Someone has to.”

She curled her fingers in his tunic, trying to breathe rather than sob.

Eventually she pulled back, wiping at her face.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

“What?”

“Let’s go to Eriadu.”

“Are you sure we should be meeting up with a pirate?” Crosshair asked.

Omega was grinning, almost bouncing with excitement. The sun shone, agreeing with her cheery mood.

“She’s not just a pirate. She’s my friend. And she was Tech’s friend.”

At his name Crosshair stopped speaking, letting Omega drag him to the meeting place by the caves on the beach. Batcher bounded ahead of them, barking in delight, and chasing birds that dropped to the sand to scavenge and perhaps enjoy a delicious meal.

They were near the caves when Batcher bounded towards someone, a half-eaten fish in her mouth.

Crosshair put on his best skeptical look, not a fan of Omega being friends with a pirate, and headed over.

Omega rushed ahead of him, and hugged Phee just as she was accepting the “present” from Batcher.

Crosshair dragged his feet, partially to observe. The thin, dark-skinned woman seemed genuine in her excitement at seeing Batcher and Omega, her smiles reaching her mirthful brown eyes.

“Phee, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Omega said as he stepped over to them. She came back over, holding onto his right arm. “This is Crosshair.”

“You’re Phee?” he asked, knowing he probably sounded judgemental or disinterested. Either would do.

Omega whacked his side. “Don’t be rude.”

He gave her a tired look, and she threw her hands up in defeat.

Then she turned to Phee, grinning, “Sorry about him.”

Phee deposited Batcher’s present on the ground when the panting lurca hound wasn’t looking.

“No worries. I expected… this.” She gestured at him.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Tech told me all about your sparkling personality.”

Crosshair almost huffed a laugh at that, but then grief hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Tech was gone for all of them. He stepped back slightly.

“So why are we meeting here?” she asked, looking around. “And what exactly are we discussing? You weren’t very forthcoming, Omega.”

“Sorry, uh… about that—”

“We want to go to Eriadu,” Crosshair stated, not having time for cold feet, or worry at how certain words struck him deep. “I need to see where he died.”

Phee sighed, and sat on the rocks. She picked up a shell and tossed it into the blue waves.

“No, you don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to see that,” Phee said. “I went, and… it broke my heart.”

Crosshair didn’t want to admit to his pain, but it was dragging at him, urging him. This wasn’t real! Tech wasn’t dead! He couldn’t be. He just couldn’t be. How was he dead? The last time Crosshair had seen him had been that platform on Kamino, and it just wasn’t fair. Why Tech? Why someone so brilliant, and brave? Perhaps those were the reasons for it, for a sacrifice that felt empty and hollow, like the hole in Crosshair’s chest, in his life. His emotions couldn’t comprehend that he was really gone. He couldn’t be.

He came forward, raising his voice, hardening it, “I need to see. I need to know. He’s not even dead to me. For all I know he could come walking down to us right now. I never saw him die, and he died while I was…” His hand shook, and he grasped it. “It’s just. Not. Real. Not to me. That's why I need to go.”

Phee pulled Omega close, wrapping a hand about her wrist, and something stung Crosshair in the chest, and it sizzled with electricity.

Jealousy? Protectiveness?

She let her go after rubbing her back in a consoling manner, and Omega reached out to Crosshair. He almost backed away, right foot lifting, toes digging in the sand, but then he held his ground.

The sun seemed to burn, the brightness too much. For a moment Crosshair didn’t completely understand where he was, what he was feeling, what was happening.

Focus.

He pretended he was aiming at a target, finding it with his eye. In his distress he picked the hilt of Phee’s sword, saw it glinting in the light, watched as it moved as she shifted and breathed.

He felt too exposed down here, and he looked up. Maybe Omega would say he was being paranoid if they weren’t in anyone else’s company. But he felt watched, felt like someone’s prey. Maybe he was. Maybe the coming pain was stalking him.

Seeing Eriadu would hurt. He knew that. Of course he knew that. It would be like seeing Mayday’s helmet. But he had to do it. He just had to.

“You don’t have to go back there,” Crosshair eventually said to Phee. “We just need to borrow your ship.”

She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. “Uh huh. So what makes you think I’d let you have my ship for free?”

Crosshair paused. “Omega said—”

Omega wilted under Phee’s suddenly tough gaze.

“Sorry?” she offered. “I didn’t know who else we could go to.”

“Why not Hunter?” Phee asked. “I’m sure he’d listen to the both of you, want to hear you out.”

Crosshair shook his head. “He’s done with that. He was there, he doesn’t know what… what it’s been like.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?”

Crosshair crossed his arms. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to be told to work on my communication skills from a pirate.”

“Trying to insult me, sniper?”

He sighed, looking around.

He thought he spotted something, a glint of sun against armor, but it passed behind a rock.

Crosshair changed how he was standing, Phee on one side, the direction they had come from on the other.

“Are you sure no one else knows we were meeting here?” Crosshair asked Omega.

“It’s just us.”

Batcher came over, offering Omega a stick, which she threw for her. Batcher bounded away down the beach, racing along beside the waves.

“So, are we getting your ship for a trip to Eriadu, or not?”

Phee stood. “Hmm. Not.”

“Good girl.”

Crosshair turned, seeing Batcher had given Hunter the stick. What was he doing here?

Crosshair faced him, and Hunter crossed his arms, Batcher nipping and tugging at the stick he still held. “Eriadu, huh?” he asked. “Just when were you planning on telling us that?”

“I wasn’t,” Crosshair said.

“So you were just going to leave, let me, and Wrecker, think you were missing?” Hunter asked. “And Omega, you know better than this. The Empire is—”

“Searching for me, I know.” She kicked the sand, refusing to look at Hunter. 

Guilt pulled at Crosshair, and he stepped forward. “Look, it’s my fault,” he said. “It was my idea.”

“Oh, I know it was because it’s stupid.”

“How did you even know we were here?” Crosshair asked.

Phee came over now, Hunter nodding to her. Phee took Omega’s wrist again, showing the comm she’d secretly activated earlier. Omega, a bit sullen, pulled out of her grip, switching her comm off.

“We’re not your enemies,” Hunter said.

“Then get out of my way,” Crosshair hissed.

“Why?” Hunter eventually asked, dropping the stick, Batcher pawing at it, giving a slight whine.

“What?”

“Why do you want to go?”

“Hunter, don’t be mad at him,” Omega pleaded. “He just wanted to know. He wanted closure about… about Tech. He never got that. He wasn’t there.”

Hunter’s stance relaxed, but wasn’t fully pulled down by grief.

“I think I can give you closure,” he admitted. “Come on.” And then he nodded at Phee. “Thanks for alerting me.”

“Anytime. Omega, stay out of trouble.”

“As if you stay out of trouble.”

“I only get into the fun kind of trouble.”

Crosshair noticed Batcher wasn’t following as they headed back up the beach, and he whistled for her.

He petted her smooth head as he walked, wondering what Hunter thought could possibly give him closure from a loss so tragic it felt like he’d had vital organs cut out of him, and with each breath he was bleeding out.

By the time he was back at the Marauder he was panting a little, and definitely sweating. Sometimes Crosshair wasn’t sure if he could get used to Pabu, but it was better than going on missions.

Hunter directed him to one of the seats before the ship’s central computers.

“Sit.”

He did, raising an eyebrow, which was interrogatory enough for Hunter.

He sat next to him, and Crosshair realized he wasn’t that upset by his nearness.

Hunter pulled up files, fingers not moving as fast as Tech’s would have.

“I pulled the data from the recorder on Tech’s goggles, put all the files into the computer. Wrecker and I have been sorting and organizing them, but there’s so much. We’re not even close to finished. But um, here…”

Hunter pulled up a recording, and Crosshair was stunned to see his younger self. All of them were younger.

“Tech, what are you doing?” cadet Wrecker asked.

The view shifted slightly, like Tech was adjusting the recorder.

“I’m recording us.”

“Erm, why?” Wrecker asked.

Crosshair was in the back, chewing on a toothpick, a habit he had only recently picked up at that time.

“It’s fun!”

Crosshair flicked his toothpick at him, and Tech laughed.

Crosshair found himself laughing a little too.

Hunter opened another file.

Tech was flying, and Crosshair saw a beach and a jungle through the viewport. Then he heard, “Why is Omega hanging off the side of the ship?”

“It is an unscheduled study break.”

Omega laughed at that, and she came in between Crosshair and Hunter. She leaned against Crosshair. He laughed too.

“Were you really hanging off the side of the ship?” he asked.

“It wasn’t like it was my fault,” Omega said. “There were giant crabs.”

“Yes, that explains everything,” he said, tone flat and deadpan.

Oh, there was so much he had missed.

He leaned into her, even as it had him leaning closer to Hunter.

Another file was brought up.

Crosshair was surprised to see himself with his light gray hair, and almost wanted Hunter to change it, but he decided to stay strong.

The cockpit of the Marauder was dark. Crosshair sat next to the pilot’s seat, trying to keep a wound on his arm from bleeding.

“Are you all right?”

Tech’s voice, asking him if he was okay, caring about him.

Crosshair put an elbow on the console, leaning in, and resting his face in his hand. He didn’t know if it was to hide his tears, or if he was just too shocked.

“Didn’t I tell you if you asked me again I’d use your goggles for target practice?”

Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega all gave weak laughs at that that could have been half-sobs, laughter awash with tears.

“Yes, and I know you’re lying.”

Crosshair put his foot down from where it had been resting on the chair, tightened the bandage on his arm like it was some kind of sign of strength, and leaned in. “You want to bet?”

“No, because last time I bet against you you completely cleaned me out.”

Blood seeped from the bandage, trickling down Crosshair’s arm.

Crosshair almost grinned at hearing Tech’s weary, annoyed sigh at him.

He pushed Crosshair back, and started helping him with his arm.

As he pressed gauze to it, hard, Tech said, “When will you learn that we care about you?”

“What’s there to care about?”

Crosshair felt those words deep in his bones, especially now. He was scarred, unable to fire a blaster with precision.

He was nothing now.

Just a tortured remnant of the man he had been in this recording.

Tech placed his other hand on Crosshair, a soothing gesture.

“Plenty,” he answered.

And somehow he thought maybe someday he could believe him.

Crosshair was crying silently as Hunter found another file. “Oh, this one is good,” he commented, all choked up.

Crosshair heard a little sob from Omega, and he started rubbing her back.

The view showed a cave with a pool before them, a waterfall plashing into it like a hidden song. The cave glowed blue, lighting up the water, the droplets glistening like jewels. It was so beautiful it broke Crosshair’s heart.

“Everything is changing, and you don’t even care,” Omega accused.

Crosshair glanced at her, and she was holding onto Hunter too, burying her head against his arm. He stroked her hair. Seeing that, it made things feel more normal than they had in a long time. Contentment made a home in the hole in his chest, even as it left room for plenty more, for a yawning darkness that still pulsed inside him like a dark poison.

“It is a fundamental part of life,” Tech answered.

“Echo left. Why doesn’t that bother you?”

“I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on. That is what soldiers do.”

“We’re more than that. We’re a family. Aren’t we?”

Tech paused. “Well, uh, yes. Yes, of course we are.”

We are, Crosshair found himself mouthing.

And here his family was, missing this wonderful man, no longer whole anymore, but different, changed.

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

Tech sighed. “Echo chose a different path, as did Crosshair.”

Shame colored his cheeks, but he kept watching, needing to hear Tech’s words from this moment.

“I have to respect their decision. Even though it can be difficult to understand, we must carry on.”

Somehow it felt like Tech was speaking to him, telling him of his own loss.

“I may process moments and thoughts differently”—(he sure did)—”but it does not mean that I feel any less than you.”

Screaming and coughing filled the cavern as Wrecker and Hunter fell from the waterfall.

Crosshair couldn’t stop laughing, including when Tech said, “See? That wasn’t so bad.” Knowing him, it was pretty bad.

“No, no, we’re watching another one,” Hunter said, as Crosshair laughed at seeing them soaked and angry.

Crosshair put his hand on Hunter’s, and he could barely see from the tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Crosshair choked out. “I… I’ve seen… what I needed to see.”

He cried then, and Hunter and Omega pulled him into a hug, crying with him. Maybe it took a few moments, or more than that, but Crosshair tentatively held them like they held him.

We’re a family. Aren’t we?

Tech was gone. No more words to be spoken or flying to be done, but he lived in his recordings, lived in them, lived in their hearts, and in the bond they had with each other.

Yes, of course we are.

[alex-wrestling]

Trapped in the Grasp of a Memory

Jey Uso/Rhea Ripley/Damian Priest

Summary: All Jey wants is the comfort of his two favorite people

Warnings: past verbal abuse, self esteem issues, two swear words

A/N: do they have a ship name? If not, I’m dubbing them jheamian. I’m projecting big time in this btw. Title is from Trapped in the Grasp of a Memory by Knocked Loose

Jey’s eyes darted between Gunther and Ludwig, breath coming in hot and fast.

“I cannot believe you lost that match, Kaiser!” The Austrian shouted, lips turned upwards in a snarl. “You’re useless! Haven’t I taught you anything?”

Ludwig bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Mein General. I will win the next match.”

“Dummkopf,” Gunther spat, “you never win anything!

All Jey could hear was Roman, yelling at him, berating him for every botch and stutter. He could see tears forming in his eyes. No. Not here!

He sped out of the locker room, wiping his eyes. His days in the Bloodline, it seemed, we’re far from over. Every insult, every screamed word, reminded him of his Tribal Chief.

He found himself in an unused hall. He sneezed a few times because of the dust, his eyes stinging even more than they already were. It was here that he finally let himself cry, leaning against the wall and falling down as he choked on his tears. It was pathetic to get worked up like this, really. They weren’t even yelling at him. Why was he so emotional?

He longed for his partners, but knew they had their own issues. Rhea and Damian had just gotten out of their own situation with their own baggage, it was unfair to add his in with it. They’d react the same as Roman anyway, wouldn’t they? Call him a baby for crying, tell him he was making things up, deny him the physical touch he so desperately craved. Yet, he wanted them. Rhea’s soothing touch, Damian’s deep voice. He wanted them so much. It made him cry harder. He didn’t deserve their affection, their kind words, their weird little gifts. He didn’t deserve them.

“Jey?”

Jey covered his mouth, immediately recognizing the Australian accent. No. She can’t see me like this. She’ll leave.

“Querido?” Not him too! “Where are you?”

Jey curled up in the fetal position, burying his head in his knees. Tears still leaked out of his eyes, instead covering the sweatpants he’d stolen from his boyfriend. I’ll have to give these back.

He heard loud footsteps echoing in the hallway, and felt eyes on his head. “Jey? What happened?”

He shook his head, refusing to speak. He wasn’t sure if he could talk anyway.

He felt fingernails in his scalp, and he leaned in to Rhea’s touch. He sniffled. “I’m-”

He sobbed again. Rhea pulled him into her chest, still stroking his hair as he cried into her.

“Jey? Who hurt you, mi corazón? They’ll never hurt you again, I promise. They’ll never even think about it.”

Jey shook his head again. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled.

Rhea stopped her strokes. “What?”

“Gunther was yellin’ and-”

“País de merde,” Damian mumbled. “I’m going to kill him.”

“He was yelling at Ludwig,” Jey clarified, “not me. Yelling reminds me of when I was with Ro, and…” Jey trailed off, realizing he had revealed too much. Anger, even when it wasn’t directed at him, was a part of life. Rhea and Damian realized that, didn’t they?

“That asshole,” Rhea muttered. Damian hummed in agreement. “Why didn’t you come get us? You know we’d help you.”

“Don’t deserve it,” Jey said. “Shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

“You’re not sensitive, you’re traumatized,” Damian said. “You deserve our help, cariño. Don’t listen to Roman. We’re all equals here.”

“Yeah,” Rhea said. “I know where your head is at, Jey. I’ve had mental health struggles too. You’re not a burden, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. You help us so much, baby, it’s time we return the favor.”

“We have more than enough room for you in our hearts,” Damian added. “No matter what happens with the Bloodline or the Judgement Day, you can always talk to us. We won’t yell at you, we promise.”

Jey finally looked up at his lovers. They looked concerned for him, not angry. He laid his head back on Rhea’s chest, hearing her heartbeat. He was going to savor this moment as long as he could.

[saturnsorbits]

YES! we all take Eiji’s last name! I didn’t care who’s last name we took just as long as I got rid of mine bahahah

But Katsu was ADAMANT about taking Eiji’s last name because it was his own little way of like I don’t want to say submitting to us but more so a way to say “everything about my ego is tossed aside when it comes to you two.”

And nothing against his parents but he has a lingering like distaste in his mouth when he hears the “Bakugou” because it kinda carries all the trauma and memories of when he was not that good of a person AND of when he fucking died.

In our vows (which were like super secret and only recited with me and Eiji around no one else) he mentions dying and waking up again and feeling brand new and he attributes that feeling of waking up again (being revived) to the love he has for Eiji and I. So taking Eiji’s last name is his “Thank you for saving me” action. 🥹

And we didn’t tell Eiji we were doing it until we’d already changed our last names so it was AFTER we got married and he sobbed for I shit you not an hour and a half bahahah. But when he heard it he said he felt like he was finally worthy of us. Worthy of something good and whole and because of it, he didn’t really care if he didn’t make it into the too ten anymore cuz he had “already won the biggest prize.”

ANYWHOO SORRY I RAMBLED. LOVE YOU.

Ahh! No that’s so fucking cute!

Bakugo’s little bending the knee - The acknowledgment that you two are above all else for him! And him being able to shed all the bad of his past too is a lovely sentiment, it’s a new beginning for him and he gets to become part of the best thing that’s happened to him.

Oh, I’m crying…

Knowing he has such a home and there’s this physical thing tying you all together; like, he can’t write his name without grinning ear to ear - signs autographs with a grin not bc of the fame but bc he’s Katsuki Kirishima now.

And Kirishima’s not knowing! I know he still tears up about it when you mention it… Has to sniffle and wipe away a tear - bc you’re his, like officially, both of you. He’s such a sweet pea. Just thinking about how much all of that meant to him and the surprise of it all too.

Never apologise for rambling - your self-ship is literally my favourite thing to talk about!

I adore you 💕

[dreamwritersworld]

Ghost of you. Finale (Sully family x reader)

It took a 2 weeks for Y/n to finally work up the guts to talk to her little girl again. Within those days Y/n watched her from a far, sobbing and mourning over the girl she saw smile every second…now standing with a face and eyes full of anger and betrayal. When she saw Tuk alone…on a shore, staring at the sea exactly how Y/n does, she knew Tuk was wondering if something was out there, or if she could just for a couple of minutes listen to muffled waves of water while she sinked under.

Y/n didn’t need to announce her presence..not when she trained Tuk to be aware of her surroundings. Tuk heard unfamiliar footsteps approach…she used to know Y/n’s presence so well.

“Tuk..”

The little girl turned around and her eyes went wide to her older sister…the one who left her, the one who raised her.

“no..no..”

Tears fell from Tuk’s eyes frustrated at the mix of emotions and all Y/n could do was watch and push away her tears…she couldn’t force herself onto Tuk when she knew, she felt she was wrong.

“I’m so sorry Tuk-“

“What are you doing here? Have you been staying here? You left me! You left me.”

“I didn’t want to! I ca-“

“No. Don’t talk to me!”

“Just listen to me please! Tuk you know I never wanted to leave you-“

“But you did! You did leave me Y/n! Just go! Get away and never come back!…please.”

Y/n knew she shouldn’t push anything onto Tuk…she never did. Y/n taught Tuk survival in the most natural exciting way possible and it didn’t make anything feel forced…not how Jake would have forced her if he taught her. So…she left.

That entire night Y/n and Tuk cried in their own beds barricaded from the world. Tuk had no one asking if she was ok or what happened…but Y/n had Ao’nung…

“Y/n?…what’s wrong?”

The boy Y/n had learn to open up to held her close to his heart.

“Tuk..that’s my sister. I talked to her today and she..she didn’t want me.”

Ao’nung had no words to say, how could he? He didn’t understand either side, he was always fortunate and lucky enough to have his younger sister. He settled on holding Y/n for as long as he could. Y/n fell asleep that night dreaming of Tuk’s childhood memories….

The next day all was going well until they had discovered mother’s Tulkan dead…and then the war broke out.

When I was beside Jake and my parents…he did a double look..his daughter? His missing daughter was here the entire time? Beside the people and he didn’t even know?..Tuk hadn’t told them, she still respected me enough to not break my peace…oh my sweet sunshine.

My heart didn’t settle, instead it was beating rapidly witnessing my sunshine and siblings tied up on the ship.

I spent the next hour in the war…inhaling every fiery breath in my lungs…taking in and witnessing all the blood shed of humans and my people and once everyone else was off the ship…I didn’t see Tuk or Kiri.

Eclipse was soon going to fall but all I saw was red…a man, was holding Tuk and Kiri captive. My footsteps were silent and my bow n arrow was aimed but…then the man turned around with his gun getting ready to click it…

It’s not easy to forget the traumatic tales the scientists told of Y/n…not when her body and eyes have experienced so much betrayal and blood. Quaritch brought up the only thing that he believed would make Y/n fumble. The one thing the scientists warned him would set her off.

“Reyakana would’ve been heartbroken, knowing he taught you all the wrong things-“

“Don’t. Don’t ever say his name.”

“I know more of Reyankana better than y-“

“ever!”

Then I took a hiss at the man as he grabbed Tuk…now placing the gun at her head. My body froze…for the first time Tuk was in real danger and I didn’t know what to do. I would’ve never put her or my family in danger…not the way Jake did.

“This is your baby girl right? This is your baby? Bring your father and I’ll give you her. I’ll hand her right to you.”

I reached for the intercom on kiri’s neck, she looked directly in my eyes begging me. She doesn’t know how far I’d go to keep Tuk safe…no one does. I ripped it off looking directly into Quaritch’s eyes..I’ve only ever heard tales about him, listening in to the stories Jake told the other kids.

“Come on the boat. Right now Jake…he has Tuk.”

Having this man live was a danger to Tuk…he’d had to go if it meant she was safe and It was without question that I no longer held any love for my biological father Jake…but I saw how much Kiri loved him. Giving him up would mean killing him, as much as I had seen and done…I couldn’t bare seeing her or anyone mourn for someone who isn’t here..not anymore.

As soon as Quaritch let Tuk loose i aimed my arrow and shot directly between the eyes…the poison leaked between his veins and would kill him…he died quick and painfully but not like how my wound would cause me to go by slow. He had raised his gun just like me..aiming wrongfully and hitting near my heart.

I dropped to the floor, my eyesight went blurry and I couldn’t hear well.

“Y/n!….no! Help-“

I had grew unconscious but I could still feel a familiar warmth and comfort i so dearly longed for. Those small hands held my head and rushed her hands through my hair.

“Tuk..”

My body felt so heavy…it was too early to shut down..

“Y/n! Stay awake! Please!”

Oh…her small sob and tears hurt my heart so much more.

“I..love..you..”

Then it went black…I had passed. I was now swimming in the ocean listening to the muffled waves of water…sinking in.

…

Saying farewell to Y/n’s body was the hardest for the Metkayina leaders family. All of the people had known of the quiet girl , they knew she was an absolute dream just by witnessing Ronal’s war cry and Tonowari’s tears as they put down their daughter..allowing the waters to drag her.

It had been a long couple of hours…spent of discussing who should give Eywa Y/n’s body. Tuk settled it and defended Ronal and Tonowari mentioning how their own family wasn’t there for her but others from another clan were.

Soon after the funeral Ao’nung went to Y/n hiding spot, where she’d usually go to calm down and think of Tuk…but surprisingly Tuk had made it her own place as well.

Ao’nung hadn’t heard Tuk speak once since coming on the island…for someone who was so greatly spoken about, hearing how the young girl always spoke a lot..it was saddening to know that now she spoke nothing.

He had took his chances at whistling the small melody Y/n did…with Tuk.

Tuk turned around with a hitched gasp…

“How do you know that..?”

“Your secret whistle with Y/n. She talked about you all the time, Tuk.“

“….she did? What did she say?”

“Well…she told me about how you struggled as kids…how she left the forest..I asked her if she was scared when she was leaving home..all she could think about was that you were safe. That never changed Tuk. She loved you and always wanted you safe.”

Tuk sobbed into her arms getting frustrated for not forgiving her sister easily.

“…It shouldn’t have gone this way…if I wasn’t on that boat, she wouldn’t have died. I could’ve stopped it.”

“Nothing was going to stop her from killing that man Tuk, not when she knew there was a chance he was going to use you against your father. You know Y/n..”

Whimpers fell from Tuk’s mouth

“she made her choice…and we’re both going to have to find a way to live with that.”

“I loved her so much..”

“me too.”

Silence sat between them but bracelets on Tuk’s wrists and old gems woven into Tuk’s hair caught his attention…they were Y/n’s.

“..she told me she used to always make you jewelry and pick gems with you. Y/n never failed to mention how much skills you had she talked about how you would make the most perfect shots, clothing and crafts. You were her sun Tuk.”

Tuk has let out a breathy laugh, knowing Y/n she probably bedazzled the whole story like she always did with Tuk. To y/n, Tuk was everything in the world and she was good at it all.

“…she went back for you Tuk. I had lied to my parents telling them she was just coming with me to do a trading proposal with another clan…but when she saw you, she didn’t want to take you away from how happy you were with your siblings.”

“…what? What are you talking about? I-“

“When y/n came back to the forest she saw you laughing with the rest of your siblings. In her eyes, it was wrong to show up out of the blue to take you away from where she believed made you happy.”

“oh..no…she came to visit the one time I went to go with my siblings. That one day, was months after her departure…a fun day like that never happened again.”

“Well Tuk, you have your family. Y/n told me how your siblings were with you, they love you. Please, if it’s not too much to ask Tuk…go on and love yours. Love what you have right now and heal yourself, Y/n would’ve never wanted you upset for the rest of your life thinking of what could’ve been.”

“I’ll do that..is there any stories you have of her? How was she living here? Was she at peace?”

The questions of Y/n’s last couple of months shot quickly at Ao’nung and the two laughed for ages at silly sayings or actions Y/n would do.

When Tuk went to sleep her dreams hit her…finally.

*Tuk’s dreams*

There she was…Y/n. She was crying looking at me, reaching her hand out to me.

“Im sorry I couldn’t keep my promise. You probably don’t remember but I was really serious about building a gorgeous home for us and taking you on adventures everyday just us two…with our craft area, bed forts, and piles of warrior equipment!..All the latest cool gear of course! I’d be there waiting…so everytime someone made you cry..you can come back home..”

I pulled her into a hug, crying into her shoulder missing her soft skin and comfort.

“I forgive you, Y/n…I love you.”

For the rest of the night I was dreaming of us. Eywa allowed us to still be connected…I could feel Y/n’s love and affection every time I dreamt..

*

now everyone knew how far y/n would go to keep Tuk safe.

!💞!

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @abbersreads @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @midnightliacr @waitingforanotherpart @marybrown234 @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @deleted-1-800

[jessicas-pi]

the Bo and the Blueberry incorrect quotes post I made reminded me that I had actually written a little bit of the AU, and as i'm probably never going to write a whole fic, I decided to share a chunk of what I have!

------

Bo-Katan stared down into her drink, feeling a numbness that wasn’t from the alcohol. She hadn’t had enough for that.

Not yet, anyway.

The flap of her tent brushed open, and a moment later, her uncomfortably stiff cot creaked as someone sat down beside her. Bo-Katan just kept looking down into the shimmering liquid and the cup clasped in both her hands. She hadn’t bothered to pull her hair back, and it hung down in her face.

“Why are you here?” she rasped.

The modulated voice beneath the helmet was gentle. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

“You know why.” Bo-Katan swirled her cup, reluctant to take another sip of the nasty liquid. “I don’t want anything to do with you right now.”

“I know you’re hurting, but don’t take this out on me, Bo,” Ursa chided. “I lost someone, too.”

Bo-Katan scoffed, gulping down the cheap drink. “And you’ve come to mourn with me. Is that it? Are you here to tell me you’re sorry? Sorry that your little demagol’ika built a machine to kill us with our own armor?” Bo-Katan laughed bitterly. It came out sounding like a sob. “Or are you sorry that my son died because of it?”

She heard Ursa’s breathing, tight like a coiled spring, burning with hurt and anger. Right now, Bo-Katan didn’t care. She wanted Ursa to hurt. She wanted everyone to hurt.

Bo-Katan tossed back the rest of the drink, then threw the cup to the ground. It broke to shards.

“He made a hero’s sacrifice,” Ursa whispered levelly, like it was some kind of consolation.

Bo-Katan turned on her old friend, finding the strength in her anger to rise to her feet. “He was thirteen. Thirteen, Ursa! He shouldn’t have to make hero’s sacrifices! He should be giving me attitude and complaining about his lessons and wondering if the girl he likes will ever know his name! He should be a boy, not a pile of ashes!”

Ursa rose to her feet, too, and pulled off her helmet.

Her eyes were red, like someone who had spent a long time crying.

“I didn’t come here to fight with you, Bo-Katan!”

“Then you shouldn’t have come at all!” she yelled, balling her hands up into fists.

She might have actually struck Ursa, then, if the roar of a ship descending rapidly, followed by an enormous crash, hadn’t interrupted the argument.

Bo-Katan shoved Ursa aside and ran out of the tent into the camp. Usually, at this time of evening, there would be music playing and drinks all around, but the camp had been eerily quiet for the last few days, as her people mourned with her.

They had all loved Ezra.

But the camp was no longer quiet, now, and Bo-Katan took in the scene with shock. An Imperial shuttle had crashed into the ground just outside camp, leaving a long gash in the landscape. She pulled her blaster from its holster and advanced slowly, warily wondering just what was going on.

The door to the shuttle opened, the ramp descending. Bo-Katan pointed her blaster, ready to fire at any Imperials who might emerge.

For five long seconds, nothing happened.

Then, a gangly boy in blue-and-gray armor slid down the ramp, hop-skipped forward a few steps when he reached the bottom, and cheerfully shouted—

“Hi, Mom!”

[russolover]

can i request 7 + 8 + 6 frm prompt 2 fluff/ other (6) list or 120+74+34+42 from prompt 1 please if thats okay please

Apocalypse

I’ll post your other request in a separate story :) Btw - all the titles for my fics are songs I got inspired by while writing them

Apocalypse - Cigarettes after Sex

6. “I don’t care what they think, to me, you are perfect.” 7. “You’re not going to lose me.” 8.“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.”

Social Media was many things. A platform for people to connect and spread happiness or to update friends and family on your life. But sadly it was also a place where lots of hatred was spread.

You and Alessia have been together for 2 years but only decided to come out to the public a few weeks ago. There were many positive messages and a lot of ship names thrown your way but there was also a certain amount of people who decided being spiteful was their way to go. Especially to the Italian.

You didn’t care about the comments since you didn’t use social media that much but if you came across one you didn’t hold back since you saw what kind of an effect it had on Alessia.

It was one of those lazy Sundays, laying on the sofa, binge-watching some episodes of friends while your girlfriend was sound asleep on top of you. You mindlessly ran your fingers through her silky hair while an occasional sigh was coming from the blonde.

The silence was interrupted by your phone ringing. On the screen you could see it was no other than tooney.

“what’s going on tooney”

You stated rather quietly not to wake your girl up.

“Why is less not picking up”

She asked abruptly.

“She’s asleep but Thank you for asking tooney, I’m fine as well”

You chuckled but quickly stopped when you heard the serious tone of her voice.

“Y/n have you been on Twitter recently”

“what no.. why?”

You started panicking slightly.

“Remember Alex?-

“Alessias ex?”

You interrupted her.

“Yeah, they released some old pictures of when they were together an-

“What the hell?!”

You screamed into the phone, startling the Italian on top of you.

“I’m sorry baby”

You squeezed her thigh as she sat up. Poor thing had no clue what was going on.

“Why are you shouting and who’s on the phone?”

She mumbled as she rubbed her eyes trying to get rid of the tiredness.

You pulled the blonde closer before putting tooney on speaker, knowing what was about to happen. Alessias Ex was a tough subject for you and for alessia. Mainly because they were trying to profit out of your girlfriends name.

Everyone wants to know why the relationship ended- how it began- how fame was changing their relationship- Questions that should never be discussed by the public or random journalists.

Once tooney explained what was going on, you and alessia took a look at Twitter to find the most spiteful and nasty comments you’ve probably experienced until now.

They started calling the Italian a cheater, since her ex didn’t state when those pictures were taken.

“Y/n should’ve never gotten with her”

“Not Russo cheating on the Football God”

“Y/N can do so much better”

You could hear alessias breathing picking up.

“Less?”

Her frown started getting bigger and the tears started rolling down her cheek. You immediately pulled her closer to you, wrapping the blonde up in a big hug.

You were furious at the people calling the most wonderful, loyal and kind hearted girl you’ve ever known those malicious things.

The crying didn’t stop, less was full on sobbing into your chest trying to form sentences.

“Baby I need you to breathe”

You whispered softly into her ear trying to calm her down while still holding her as close as possible. She only shook her head.

“Less.. c‘mon my love”

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.”

This eventually guided her into slowing her breathing down and stop sobbing. The tears were still flowing though.

“I swear I didn’t chea-

She tried to say but was interrupted by you immediately.

“hey I kno-”

"I don't want to loose you"

She whispered while her breathing started picking up again.

"“You’re not going to lose me.”

You said while cradling her face in your hand trying to rub all of the tears away with your thumbs.

"Less listen to me, you're the most important person in my life and no one is going to ruin that, not those haters and especially not Alex"

"But everyone thinks-

"“I don’t care what they think, to me, you are perfect."

She didn't say anything but the tears slowly stopped and the frown was still prominent on her face. She looked down at the promise ring you gave her for your one year anniversary and started fidgeting with it.

"Come here"

You whispered, pulling her onto your lap.

"You, Alessia Mia Teresa Russo, probably have the biggest heart on this entire planet and for people to take advantage of that is not right. Those people saying mean stuff have no idea what's really going on and they try to make up fucking stories only to spread misinformation. But that's what it is, they're just random people who would never dare to say something to your face, and if they did I would have a talk with them."

A little smile appeared on her face after you finished your last sentence and repeatedly left kisses on her cheeks.

"I love you so much Y/n"

She turned around to face you and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I love you mi vida"

Your heart broke at her tear stained face but you were glad that she was feeling a little bit better.

"How about ordering something from your favourite sushi place and watching Dirty dancing?"

Her blue eyes lit up by the mention of her favourite food and she gave you a proper smile which you immediately returned.

"I thought you hated dirty dancing?"

She raised her eyebrow at you while pulling you closer by your necklace, which only made your need to kiss her grow larger.

"Yeah but I love you, so I have to deal with it"

You chuckled and pressed your lips on hers, instantly relaxing into the comforting taste of her strawberry flavoured chapstick.