#the knowledge that for the remaining of his life he will not break free of the cage he built for himself

[baelabong]

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ

(ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq: yes

Pairing: Knight! G!P! Karina x princess! fem reader

Note/warnings: multiple s*x scenes, swearing, this is all fiction gang, riding Next

“Y/N,” he begins, his tone one of authority. “Next week Wednesday is an important night, not just for our kingdom, but for you personally.”

You nod, trying to keep your expression composed. “Yes, Father.”

He walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, a reminder of the expectations that have always been placed on you. “Mark’s family is powerful, their influence extends across many lands. A strong alliance with them would benefit our kingdom greatly. It’s time you start thinking about your future… about marriage.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest, but you force yourself to remain calm, nodding in agreement. “I understand, Father.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Y/N. But as a princess, your duty to the kingdom must come first. Tonight, you must show Mark’s family that you’re ready to take on that responsibility.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening as you suppress the emotions threatening to break free. “I will do my best, Father.”

He gives you a small, approving nod before turning back to the window. “Good. Now, go prepare yourself for the ball. Remember, the future of our kingdom rests on your shoulders.”

With a final bow, you leave his chambers, your composure intact until you’re out of sight. The moment you reach your own room, however, the dam breaks. You collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your father’s words crashes over you.

It’s not just the thought of marriage that tears at your heart—it’s the knowledge that you could never be with the one person you truly love. The unfairness of it all feels suffocating, as though you’re trapped in a cage with no escape.

The door to your chambers opens quietly, and you look up to see Karina standing there. Her expression shifts from concern to heartbreak when she sees you crying. She rushes to your side, kneeling beside you as she gently takes your hands in hers.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” she asks softly, her voice filled with worry. “What happened?”

You can barely speak through your sobs, but the words tumble out in a broken whisper. “It’s so unfair, Karina. My father… he wants me to marry Mark. He says it’s my duty to the kingdom, but… but what about us? Why can’t we be together?”

Karina’s jaw clenches, and you can see the anger flicker in her eyes. She pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly as if she can shield you from the pain of reality. “You’ll always have me, Y/N. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. And if it comes to it, I’ll run away with you. We can leave this place, start a new life where no one can tell us what we can or cannot be.”

You pull back slightly, looking into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “You would do that for me?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Her eyes blaze with fierce determination as she cups your face in her hands. “I would do anything for you. I’d even get rid of anyone who stands in our way… even your father if it meant keeping you safe and happy.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, a surge of emotion overwhelming you. The world around you falls away, and all that matters is Karina—her love, her devotion, the way she makes you feel safe and cherished. Without thinking, you crash your lips against hers, the kiss filled with desperation and raw need.

Karina responds immediately, her arms wrapping around you as she deepens the kiss. You can feel the intensity in the way she holds you, as if she never wants to let go. Her hands begin to roam, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.

You break the kiss, panting as you look at her with a mix of longing and urgency. “Karina… I need you. Please…”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. In a blur of motion, she lifts you into her arms, carrying you over to the bed. She lays you down gently, her eyes dark with desire as she hovers over you. The sight of her above you, her hair falling like a curtain around your face, sends a shiver of anticipation through you.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice husky, though you can see the tenderness in her eyes.

You nod, your hands trembling as they reach for her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, she kisses you again, her lips moving down your neck as her hands begin to undo the delicate ties of your gown. The fabric slips away, exposing your skin to the cool air and Karina’s burning touch. Her fingers trace over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she explores every inch of you.

Your breaths become ragged as her hands move lower, teasing and caressing, until you’re a trembling mess beneath her. The composed princess, who stood so poised before her father, is gone. All that remains is a woman lost in the throes of passion, unable to hold back the moans and gasps that escape her lips.

“Karina… please…” you plead, your voice barely a whisper as you arch into her touch.

She doesn’t make you wait any longer. Her hand slips between your thighs, and you cry out at the sensation, your body reacting instantly to her touch. She watches you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and desire, as she brings you to the edge of ecstasy.

You can barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure as she continues to work her magic. Words fall from your lips, broken and breathless as you cling to her, your nails digging into her shoulders. “Karina… I… I’m…”

“Let go,” she murmurs against your skin, her voice soothing as she pushes you over the edge. “I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ll always have you.”

With a final cry, you shatter, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. Karina holds you through it, her touch never wavering as she guides you back down, her lips pressing gentle kisses to your flushed skin.

When it’s over, you collapse against her, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Karina pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively as she whispers soothing words in your ear.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, her voice full of conviction. “And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

You smile weakly, feeling safe and cherished in her embrace. “And I’m yours,” you murmur, your voice filled with emotion. “Always”

——

The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow through the tall windows of your chambers. You stand before a large mirror, admiring the way your gown shimmers like stardust. The intricate embroidery catches the light, making you look like a vision of royalty. You smile softly at your reflection, but the flutter in your stomach isn’t just from the anticipation of the grand ball—it’s from the woman standing just behind you, her presence as electrifying as ever.

Karina, your ever-loyal knight, is supposed to be helping you get ready, but her touch lingers far longer than necessary, her hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress and the bare skin of your shoulders. Her fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close.

“You look stunning,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “But you know, I could just as easily take this gown off you as I put it on.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, and you bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Karina,” you whisper, your voice trembling with both excitement and a hint of warning. “We don’t have time for this… the ball—”

“Let them wait,” she interrupts, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against her. “You know how much I hate sharing you with them.”

You laugh softly, though it quickly turns into a quiet gasp as she presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, her lips lingering there. “Karina, please,” you try to protest, but your resolve is already weakening under her touch.

She turns you around to face her, her eyes dark with longing as they meet yours. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you?” she asks, her voice low and husky. “To watch you parade around in front of all those nobles, pretending you belong to the kingdom when you’re mine?”

The possessiveness in her tone sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help the way your body responds to her, leaning into her touch. “I belong to you,” you whisper, your hands coming up to rest on her chest. “But we must be careful. If anyone finds out…”

She silences you with a deep, searing kiss, her hands sliding up to cup your face. The kiss is filled with a mix of frustration and need, her lips demanding as they move against yours. You melt into her, the worries about the ball and the court slipping away, replaced by the sheer intensity of her kiss.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, her forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never let anyone take you from me,” she vows, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re mine, Y/N. Only mine.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you nod, your hands tightening on her arms. “And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice soft but firm. “Now and always.”

She kisses you again, more gently this time, before reluctantly pulling away. “We should go,” she says, though the reluctance is clear in her voice. “Before I decide to keep you all to myself.”

You laugh softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You always know how to make me want to stay,” you tease, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back.

Karina watches as you turn back to the mirror, her eyes never leaving you as you finish preparing. She helps you with the final touches, her fingers brushing against yours as she adjusts your necklace, her gaze filled with both love and longing.

“Are you ready, my princess?” she asks, her voice a soft whisper in your ear.

You nod, turning to face her once more. “As long as you’re by my side.”

She smiles, a rare, tender smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

——

The grand ballroom buzzes with life, the music resonating through the space as the elite of the kingdom whirl about in their finest attire. You, Princess Y/N, are the center of attention, as always. Tonight, you're dressed in a gown that shimmers like stardust, catching the light with every graceful movement you make. You smile and nod politely at the courtiers and nobles who bow as you pass, though your heart is elsewhere—focused on the one person who truly matters to you.

From across the room, you feel Karina's eyes on you. Your knight, ever vigilant, stands close to the shadows, her gaze never straying far from you. She’s always been your protector, your confidante, and now, your secret love. The bond you share is a hidden treasure, known only to the two of you, kept safe from the prying eyes of the court.

As you continue to circulate through the room, your attention is suddenly drawn to Prince Mark, who approaches with an easy confidence. His charm is well-known, and the look in his eyes tells you that tonight, his interest is solely on you.

“Your Highness,” he says with a smooth bow, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

You hesitate for a brief moment, your thoughts flickering to Karina. But you know that you must accept; refusing him in front of the court could raise unnecessary questions. With a composed smile, you place your hand in his. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As the two of you begin to dance, Mark pulls you slightly closer, his grip firm but still within the bounds of propriety. The two of you move together effortlessly, and for those watching, you’re the perfect picture of royalty. Yet, there’s an unease in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that only grows as Mark’s gaze lingers on you longer than it should.

“Princess,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear, “you are even more beautiful up close than I imagined. It’s no wonder everyone speaks so highly of you.”

You offer a polite smile, keeping your expression neutral. “You flatter me, Your Grace.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. As you move together to the rhythm of the music, he watches you closely, his gaze intent. “You must have suitors from every corner of the kingdom, vying for your hand,” he begins, his voice low and intimate. “But I wonder, has anyone truly captured your heart?”

His question pulls at something deep inside you, and you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound tinged with the memory of the night before—a memory that flashes vividly in your mind.

---

It was late, the palace silent, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the curtains of your chambers. Karina, your loyal knight and secret lover, had entered your room with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. She closed the door behind her, sealing off the world outside, leaving only the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Without a word, she crossed the room, her eyes locked onto yours. You tried to maintain your composure, the grace and poise expected of a princess, but it all began to slip away the moment Karina reached you. She cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle yet commanding, and leaned in to press her lips against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken desire.

“Y/N,” she murmured against your lips, her voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You drive me mad, you know that?”

You smiled against her mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what do you plan to do about it, Karina?”

Her answer was to deepen the kiss, her hands moving to the laces of your gown, deftly untying them. “I’m going to make you mine,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “I’m going to make you forget everything but me.”

You shivered at her words, a quiet moan escaping your lips as she pushed the gown from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. The cool air of the room brushed against your bare skin, but all you could focus on was Karina—her touch, her scent, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Karina,” you breathed, your hands finding their way to the hem of her tunic, tugging it over her head. “I need you.”

She groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she kissed a path down your neck. “You’ll have me, Y/N,” she promised, her voice thick with need. “But first, I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say that you’re mine.”

You gasped as her hands roamed over your body, her fingers brushing over sensitive spots that made you arch into her touch. “I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours, Karina.”

She smiled against your skin, a wicked smile that made your pulse race. “That’s what I like to hear,” she murmured, her lips trailing down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you back until you were lying on the bed, her body hovering over yours.

“Tell me how much you want this,” she said, her voice low and commanding as she teased you with light touches, her fingers brushing over your thighs.

“I want this more than anything,” you moaned, your back arching as she continued to tease you, the ache between your legs growing with every passing second. “Please, Karina, don’t make me wait.”

She chuckled softly, a sound full of dark promise. “Oh, my princess, I won’t make you wait long,” she said, positioning herself between your legs. “But I need you to know that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Do you understand?”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping the sheets as she finally entered you, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, her rhythm steady and deep, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Karina,” you gasped, your voice breaking as she moved inside you, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Oh, gods, Karina—”

“Louder,” she demanded, her voice rough with desire as she quickened her pace, her hands tightening on your hips. “I want to hear you scream my name, Y/N.”

And you did. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming to hold back. You screamed her name as she brought you to your peak, your body trembling beneath hers as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

---

Back in the ballroom, Prince Mark’s words pull you back to the present, a soft, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you laugh lightly, your mind still lingering on the memory of Karina and the way she had completely unraveled you just hours ago.

The question catches you off guard, and for a split second, your mind flashes to Karina—her steady gaze, the way she always seems to understand you without a word. You quickly compose yourself, offering a practiced response. “As a princess, my duties to the kingdom come first, Prince Mark. Matters of the heart are secondary.”

Mark’s smile widens, but there’s a calculating edge to it. “Perhaps,” he says, leaning in just a fraction closer, “but even the most dutiful princess deserves someone who understands her, who can stand by her side through all challenges. I could be that person, Y/N.”

His use of your name, without the formal title, feels too intimate, too presumptuous. You maintain your composure, though inside, you can feel your frustration building. “Your Grace, you are kind to offer such sentiments, but I believe you overestimate your familiarity with me.”

Mark chuckles softly, undeterred by your cool response. “Perhaps, but I would very much like to change that. I see in you a strength, a wisdom that surpasses others of your rank. Together, we could do great things.”

The dance continues, but your thoughts are no longer on the music or the steps. You’re acutely aware of Karina, standing just out of sight, undoubtedly watching this interaction with a heavy heart. You glance briefly in her direction, catching her silhouette in the corner of your eye. The tension in her posture is unmistakable—she’s holding herself back, maintaining her knightly duty, but you know she’s struggling to keep her emotions in check.

As the music draws to a close, Mark tightens his grip on your hand slightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go just yet. “Think about what I’ve said, Princess,” he says quietly, his tone sincere. “You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are.”

You nod politely, withdrawing your hand as the dance ends. “I appreciate your words, Your Grace. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to my other guests.”

Before Mark can respond, Karina appears at your side, her presence a reassuring balm to your frayed nerves. She bows slightly, her voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Your Highness, may I have a word?”

You nod, grateful for the interruption. As you walk away from the crowded ballroom, you feel Karina’s hand brush against yours—a brief, hidden touch that sends warmth through your entire being. Once you’re alone in a secluded corridor, Karina turns to you, her eyes searching yours.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

You nod, though the encounter with Mark has left you unsettled. “I’m fine, Karina. But he was… persistent.”

Karina’s jaw tightens, and you can see the storm brewing behind her usually composed exterior. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” she admits, her voice low and filled with barely-contained jealousy. “He doesn’t know you like I do, and I won’t let him think he can have you.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand on her cheek. “And he won’t,” you assure her softly, leaning in until your lips meet hers in a tender, stolen kiss. “You’re the one I choose, Karina. Always.”

Karina’s breath catches, her eyes darkening with a mix of desire and possessiveness as your words sink in. She tightens her grip on your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Then show me,” she whispers, her voice rough with emotion, as if daring you to prove your devotion.

Your heart skips a beat at her command, the intensity in her gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Without another word, you quickly glance around to ensure no one is watching, then take her hand and lead her down the dimly lit corridor. Your steps are hurried, the anticipation and need driving you forward until you find a door to a private room—one that you know will offer the seclusion you both crave.

You push the door open, pulling Karina inside before shutting it behind you. The moment the door clicks shut, Karina is on you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s both demanding and filled with raw passion. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair as you press your body against hers, needing to feel every inch of her.

She backs you up against the bed, her hands roaming over your curves, teasing the sensitive skin beneath your dress. You moan into her mouth as she grips your hips, lifting you slightly before laying you down on the bed. She hovers over you, her eyes devouring the sight of you laid out beneath her, your dress slipping off your shoulders to reveal more of your skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice filled with reverence as she dips her head to kiss along your neck. Her lips and teeth work in tandem, leaving a trail of marks that you know will be hidden by your gown later, but for now, they’re a claim—her claim—on you.

“Karina…” you gasp, your body arching into her touch as she works your dress down further, exposing your breasts to her hungry gaze. “Please… I need you.”

She growls low in her throat, one hand sliding down your body, pushing up the fabric of your skirts until her fingers find the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m yours, Y/N. Only yours,” she whispers before claiming your lips again, her fingers slipping inside you with ease, making you cry out.

The way she touches you, with both tenderness and urgency, sets your nerves on fire. You grip her shoulders, your hips bucking against her hand as she works you over, her thumb rubbing against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. But you need more—so much more.

“Karina,” you pant, your voice breathless as you pull her closer. “I want you inside me. Please… I need to feel you.”

She doesn’t hesitate. With a quick, deft motion, she undoes her belt and frees herself, her thick, throbbing cock springing to life. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help but reach out, your fingers wrapping around her shaft, feeling the way it twitches in your hand. She groans at your touch, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head as you stroke her a few times.

“Y/N…” she breathes, her voice strained with desire. “I need you.”

You release her, your hands shaking with anticipation as you pull her down to you, positioning her between your thighs. She lines herself up with your entrance, and you both let out a shared moan as she slowly pushes inside, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your back arches off the bed, your nails digging into her shoulders as she fills you completely.

“Oh god, Karina…” you whimper, your head falling back against the pillows as you feel her cock bulging in your stomach, the veins rubbing exquisitely against your inner walls.

She stills for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Her eyes are locked on yours, filled with a love so deep it nearly takes your breath away. “You’re so good to me,” she murmurs, her hands caressing your sides as she starts to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate. “How did I ever deserve you?”

Your heart swells at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you meet her thrusts, the pleasure building with each movement. “Karina… you’re perfect. I’m the one who’s lucky… so lucky…”

She kisses you again, her movements becoming more urgent, more frantic as the need to claim you, to make you hers, overwhelms her. You can feel every inch of her inside you, the way her cock drags against your walls, the way she seems to hit that perfect spot with every thrust. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain as she takes you higher and higher, until you’re both teetering on the edge.

“Karina… I’m close…” you gasp, your hands gripping her arms as you feel the coil in your belly tightening, ready to snap.

“Me too,” she groans, her hips slamming into yours as she chases her release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N… make you mine…”

“You’re so perfect,” Karina breathes, her voice rough with emotion as she begins to move in earnest. Her hips rock against yours, creating a rhythm that has you gasping and moaning with every thrust. “I want to fill you up with my babies, Y/N. I want you to feel me inside you, to know that you’re mine in every way.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you can barely process them through the haze of pleasure. The thought of Karina’s claim on you, her desire to leave a mark, sends shivers through your body, making your pleasure even more intense.

“Karina… please,” you moan, your hands clutching her shoulders as you try to keep your composure. “I… I want it.”

“That’s it,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as she leans in closer. “Take it all, Y/N. I want to see you filled with my cum, to know that you’re carrying a part of me with you.”

Her words are almost too much to bear, adding an extra layer of urgency to her thrusts. You’re so lost in the pleasure that the thought of what she’s saying only intensifies the feeling. You moan loudly, your hips bucking against her as your climax draws near.

Karina’s thrusts become more frantic, her cock driving deeper, hitting all the right spots inside you. She reaches down, her hand finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles to push you closer to the edge. “Come for me, Y/N,” she commands, her voice a low growl. “I want to feel you come around me, to know that you’re mine completely.”

The combination of her cock filling you and her fingers working magic on your clit sends you spiraling over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes through you. You can’t think, can barely breathe as the pleasure overwhelms you. “Karina… I’m c-coming…”

“Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice filled with pride and desire as she fucks you through your climax. She speeds up her thrusts, her cock pulsing inside you as she chases her own release. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/N. You’re going to be so full of me, you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

The force of her words pushes you even further, your orgasm extending as she continues to pound into you, filling you with her cum. You can feel her release filling you, the warmth spreading through your core as she moans and groans, her thrusts becoming erratic as she reaches her peak.

Karina finally stills, her cock twitching inside you as she spills her seed, the heat and pressure almost overwhelming. She collapses beside you, pulling you close as you both try to catch your breath. The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint echoes of your shared pleasure.

“You’re mine,” Karina whispers, her voice a mix of satisfaction and tenderness as she wraps her arms around you. “All mine.”

“And I’m yours,” you reply, your voice filled with a contented sigh as you snuggle into her embrace. “

Her words send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You scream her name, your body trembling as the pleasure consumes you, your inner walls clamping down around her cock.

The sensation is too much for Karina. With a guttural moan, she thrusts deep inside you one final time, her cock pulsing as she spills her hot seed into you, filling you to the brim. The warmth spreads through you, and you can feel her cum seeping out around her cock, coating your thighs in a sticky mess.

———

The moment is brief, but it’s enough to reaffirm what you both know in your hearts. You pull back just as the sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway. With a shared look of understanding, you both step back into your roles—princess and knight, lovers hidden in plain sight.

“Tonight, we play our parts,” you say quietly, giving her one last lingering look before you return to the ballroom. “But never forget, it’s you who holds my heart.”

As you rejoin the festivities, Karina watches from the sidelines, her protective gaze never leaving you. And while the world may see you as a princess without a suitor, you both know the truth—a love that runs deeper than duty, hidden beneath the moonlight.

The grand ballroom is alive with laughter and the soft strains of music, guests swirling around in their finest attire. You move through the crowd, your thoughts occupied with the evening's complex dynamics and your secret affair with Karina.

After your quiet, intimate moment with Karina in the hallway, you return to the ballroom, your heart lightened by her presence and the secret you both share.

You exchange fleeting glances with Karina, whose eyes remain steadfast and watchful from the sidelines.

Just as you're about to engage in conversation with a group of nobles, Mark approaches you again. This time, his demeanor is more earnest, and he catches your hand gently, guiding you to a quieter side of the room.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice carrying a note of earnest sincerity. “I have something important to ask you.”

You look up at him, sensing the gravity of the moment. “What is it, Your Grace?”

Mark’s gaze is steady and filled with emotion. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small, elegant box. With a deep breath, he opens it to reveal a sparkling engagement ring. “Princess Y/N, I know that our time together has been short, but in it, I have seen the depth of your heart and the strength of your character. I cannot imagine my future without you by my side.”

He drops to one knee, his eyes locked on yours. “Will you marry me?”

The room seems to freeze around you. Mark’s proposal hangs in the air, the weight of his words heavy and poignant. The unexpectedness of the moment leaves you breathless, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind.

As you open your mouth to respond, a soft touch on your arm makes you turn. Karina’s presence, though discreet, is unmistakable. Her eyes, filled with a mix of pain and determination, meet yours across the room.

Mark’s gaze is unwavering, waiting for your answer, while Karina’s look speaks volumes—a silent plea, a promise of unspoken love.

Oh fuck.

[yorsgirl]

Perhaps, in another realm

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: An elixir of life – you, destined solely for his consumption. Yet, in his pursuit, he forgot, he sipped away your essence, your breath of life.

Tropes: Dark romance, Historical fiction, Angst, fluff.

Warnings: implied nsfw, implied forced intimacy, forced marriage, baby-trapping, knife play, yandere themes, isolation, trauma, one-sided love implied, non-explicit violence, mild stockholm syndrome(to empathize with one's captor), misogyny, minor character death, healthily unhealthy relationship, Sukuna being a red-green flag, Sukuna has eyes for no one except his wife.

General Warnings: Heian Era, strict Japanese setting, usage of Japanese terms(glossary provided), True form!Sukuna, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 3.7k

Glossary || Pictures

Ryomen Sukuna beholds secrets which he musn't.

Each dawn's awakening, he notes the sun's radiant dance on your irises. Marking the gentle arc of your lips, a telltale sign of mirth's embrace. By the garden's edge, he watches as the winds tousle and play with your hair curls.

With each flicker of your essence, he can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his own inability to guard his heart against the allure of your presence. Each time your unpredictability unfolds before him, he curses his own vulnerability for the arising tenderness within him.

It vexes him deeply.

Gnawing at the recesses of his, once assumed, dormant heart. Yet, now brought to life by unknown sensations – fuzzy and irksome.

An elixir of life – you. Meant to be solely consumed by him.

Your intricate curls destined to be twirled in his fingers alone. Singularly, he'd stand as the privileged observer, captivated by your brilliant elegance. Your figure draped in the resplendent folds of an opulent kimono, delicately bestowed upon you by his hands.

Thus, he embarked on the sole course he could comprehend – take you.

Splitting you away from the familiarity of a family, hearth and hamlet; for in his eyes, your fragile essence demands his safeguarding against this wicked, cruel realm.

Persuading you, that a life enfolded in his embrace had no reason for trepidation. Your purity, too immaculate to endure the harshness of existence.

Yet, persuasion faltered; your resolute heart held no inclination to remain in his grasp. Mounting a relentless siege, to break free from him and his distorted path.

"You crave peril as I assume, so be it," He conceded. "But know this: I'll be the sole peril haunting your very being."

Pressed beneath the weight of his body upon the bed, your resistance proves to be futile against his strength. Leaving you ensnared in a struggle where defiance falters in presence of his immense power.

"Isn't this what you desired? Didn't you yearn for peril?" He questions, his forefinger trailed across the delicate curve of your neck, assessing the rhythmic beat of your pulse point.

"Fear not, I shall burn the world down to literal ashes until none poses a threat to you, save for me, of course."

For danger, befalling upon you while his eyes held the witness and hands were the forebearer of pain – he'd allow. After all, he embodied peril, haunting humanity for centuries.

"My dearest," He began, twirling a blade before your defiant gaze. "I've wielded this to afflict your kin but fear not, it shall yield pure ecstacy for you."

Said so, he thrusted the timber end of the blade within your slick, delicate folds. Your screams shunned out over his malevolent laughter, fingers twisted the cotton sheets as he glided the blade in-and-out of you.

Blood dripped down his wounded hand, staining the white to red, yet his countenance held no response to pain. Gaze fixated upon your shuddering form, underneath him.

He was no stranger to the acts committed in bed. Knowledgeable of all ministrations and threads he needed to ensnared in order to make it pleasurable. Yet, you found no pleasure in this undoing.

The act of intimacy, which you envisioned to be filled with love while your lover would pepper kisses on your skin much akin to the gentle touch of spring's warmth.

That dream left shattered like shards of glass when your chastity was cruelly left to ruins under his harsh caress.

The night stretched on, your anguish unending as he remained vigilant, subjecting you to his torment.

When it ceased, he gingerly held your fragility while tears streamed down your eyes. He cradled your head in his palm, enfolding your trembling form against his chest as he murmured endearments into your parched ears.

You feebly hit on his chest, for you were seeking comfort from your captor – a sickening act.

He brought you pain and despair, yet here he was, bringing you solace in his arms. A sickening man, indeed, he was.

And with him, you were to stay.

.

You kneeled before the shrine deity.

Decked in a white shiromuku with traces of pink pattern embellishing the fabric, haori lowered just above your lips – grateful to the one who dressed you. Moisture laden lashes would've been a sight for sore eyes.

Beside you, your husband knelt. A black montsukini hakama draped around your self-proclaimed fiance and soon to be husband. Perhaps, you'd have seized the moment to admire him in such a lavish attire if he didn't commit the acts he did.

Abduction and coercion reigned heavy on your mind, the priest's chanting muffled over your loud thoughts. Your fear of the impending, palpable.

Later, you stood by his side, bedecked in jewels, unknown to you. Countless villagers and curses bowed before you but you were a foreigner to such deference.

It was his decree. For he was the King of curses and you – his consort, his queen.

.

Sukuna witnessed you gazing at the pond situated in his garden.

You gazed upon the lotus blooming at the heart of the pond, longingly. Reaching out for it, the trailing end of your garment splashed in the water – a futile attempt, too distant to grasp.

He stifled a snort on the brink of his lips as he descended into the garden, tethering on the stoned pads placed in between soil – approaching you.

"You desire that flower, wife?"

You rose swiftly, clutching the dampened hem of your attire. Refusing to meet his gaze, you brushed off the fabric, clearing away the soil.

"Apologies," You murmured. "I was just curious."

"That doesn't answer my question." He stated, an arch of his eyebrow at your frame. "Do you yearn for it?"

Standing before him, a hush lingered in the air, mere seconds passing. Fingers fidgeting, you nibbled on your inner cheek.

"Perhaps," you admitted, finally locking eyes with his feet once he takes a step forward. Bracing for the inevitable, you tightly shut your eyes.

You shouldn't have considered it. Entertaining the thought of plucking it behind his back, hoping he wouldn't notice, all the while unaware of his presence. You should have realized. Defiance in the past had met harsh retribution. This would be no exception.

"I beg–"

"Enough," He interjected.

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched tightly. This was worse. A single mistake, and you're sealed to a worse fate.

Yet, the vision never bore life.

He took your right hand, delicately clasping it within his own. Slowly, he pried open each finger, tenderly placing something within. Curiosity overrides your apprehension, and you cautiously open your eyes – finding the lotus nestled in your palm.

Your lips parted in astonishment as you gaze up at him, wonderstruck.

"Apologies should not leave your lips for trying to claim what is rightfully yours." He asserted, a ghost of an arc perched upon his lips.

"You desire something, you speak up," He waited, letting the words sink down. "Its upon me, how I'll bring it to fruition."

.

"You are to accompany master to dinner tonight," Uraume conveyed, head and eyes lowered in a humble bow.

The fusuma slid shut, signaling their departure, leaving you to your solitude once again.

Lately, companionship has been ceased from your existence. Confined to your chambers by Sukuna's decree that none other than he should share a moment with you. Save for his devoted servant and few maids he deemed worthy, who prepared you for the day.

Upon your bed, you rested, gazing into a void. Softly humming a melody, reminiscent of a distant song, echoing from the depths of your memory; harkening down the familial embrace in your ancestral village.

The day commenced to dusk, the sky donning a cloak of darkness – welcoming the night's silhouette.

Attended by chosen handmaidens, you were draped in a lavish kimono of crimson and ivory. Crushed red cherry paste graced your lips, a stroke of kohl ran along your lashlines.

You beheld your reflection, lovely; yet the joy eluded you. Unable to savor your captivating visage amidst your plight.

You were escorted to the dining hall by Uraume. As the doors parted, your captor, your husband, awaited you; seated on the head of the table. You took your place across him, evading his malevolent stare, your attention fixed solely on the delicacies presented by the servants.

"Afraid to meet my gaze, wife?" He inquired, his smirk palpable in his tone.

Still, you didn't meet his gaze, eyes fixed on your folded hands resting neatly on your lap. "I fear, I am not deserving to meet your eyes, your highness."

His sight danced upon your figure, measuring you as though you were his quarry. A chuckle escaped him as he poured the sake in his ochoko, indulging in a sip.

"Amusing, how you speak so when you are moons away from birthing my offspring, wife."

Your frame grew rigid, lips drawn tight whilst you glanced at your burgeoning womb.

Restraints couldn't bond you to him forever, he comprehended that moons past. Thus, he had to resort to unruly stratagems. Seeding you with his progeny – rendering you incapable of fleeing him.

If only, you acquiesced and remained by his side, as he craved, he wouldn't have acted thus. But your resolve left him with no alternative.

Not a matter to ponder his head upon, he would've planted his seed in you eventually. A kinship with you, his aspiration.

"I wouldn't leave you famished in such a state, wife. Begin eating." He declared, slicing a strip of meat with his chopsticks.

Eating, as if it were possible in such a condition. The satisfaction of a hearty meal has long deserted you. You didn't suspect the flavors of dishes perched before you. Furthermore, you lacked appetite.

You partook in meals solely to survive.

With adjoined palms, you offered a silent prayer to the almighty reigning above you. And so, you began.

.

Blood bathed the tatami mats of your chambers.

A severed head of a, newly appointed, handmaiden, laid near your feet. Her corpse, probably resulted into hundreds– no thousands of strips, indistinguishable.

Your stance remained rigid and motionless. Terror evident on your countenance, fragile fingertips shaking with shock and apprehension.

"Ah wife," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. He approached you, stepping over the puddle of blood and sliced flesh.

"You weren't supposed to witness that– come," He gingerly caressed your skin, ushering you out of his chambers with a hand on your back.

"Uraume," He summoned his loyal servant, as on cue, they knelt before their master. "Have the maids tidy this mess."

With the subtle nod, Uraume pivoted around, carrying out their master's command alike a proclamation from thee almighty.

Snapping a life wasn't on his schedule today. He wished to spent it with you, hence summoning you back to your chambers.

Perhaps, a foolish handmaiden, attracted by his visage, made the decision to lure him with her appeal. Lowering her uniform to display her curve of of breast, singing praises of his brilliance to him.

Taken him to be resembling any ordinary man, giving into his desires by just any woman's revealed skin. Alas! He had no interest in any woman other than his wife.

An act of like that, only receives the treatment he'd bestow upon any mortal other than you.

Death.

.

"I must say, you look lovely, my queen." Twirling a strand of your hair, he pushed it behind your ear.

Upon the engawa of your husband's abode, you knelt, sight fixated on the swarm of fireflies illuminating the garden.

Sukuna held his stance beside you, lower two hands bearing his weight behind, the third perched upon his arched knee. He set the kiseru down with the fourth, his thumb and forefinger lifted your chin; coaxing your towards him.

"Intriguing, you are," He remarked, eyebrow arched.

"Such defiance you displayed upon our initial union, and now, you show indifference. Continuously subjecting me to such blank stares and compliance." A hint of exasperation lingered his tone.

"Isn't that what you wished for?" You retorted, a moment later.

Drawing you near, his lips brushed against yours, "Perhaps, I did do." He murmured, breath caressing your cheeks, prompting a flutter of your eyelids.

"But now, I yearn for something greater."

With that, he seized your lips in a fervent, fiery kiss. Only parting, a hair's breath away, to allow you to catch your breath.

He pivoted you gently, drawing you into his embrace. Two arms encircled your waist, one caressing your swollen belly. Third, Brushing aside your hair, you heard the tinkling of ornaments. Moments later, a chain adorned your neck, a crimson gemstone nestled between your collarbones.

"Ruby?"

"Rubies are ill-suited during pregnancy, its diamond" He corrected, whispering beside your ear, securing the clasp of the chain. "Unlike most, this one's tint sets it apart than rest."

"For what?" You questioned, assessing the gem like it were poison. Grasping it between your middle finger and thumb, the lantern lights reflected on its surface. Though small, you knew it amounted to more than your ancestral wealth.

"Do I need a reason to spoil my wife with jewels?"

A moment passed in silence, your gazed him through your peripheral vision, the next. "Perhaps not, its beautiul."

"Turn around," He commanded, you complied instinctively. Turning your body to face him.

His gaze met yours at first, second they drifted to the chain bedecked on your neck and on third, he glanced at both, at once.

The jewel's radiance evoked with you being it's wearer.

A grin cracked upon his lips, gingerly holding your cheek in his calloused hands in which you begrudgingly leaned in. With a mouth, summoned on his palm, he placed a chaste kiss on your skin.

"Just how Intriguing you are, wife."

.

Love for your son eluded you.

A splitting image of his father with the identical hair and carmine tinted eyes. You pondered if he'd grow up to be just like your husband.

At days, you couldn't muster the courage to cast your eyes upon him. His mere presence: a testament to your plight, evidence that you were no longer the woman you once were and evidence to your compliance to Sukuna's desires.

Even then, you never shied away from your duties as a mother.

Perhaps, some love existed, for he wielded your flesh and blood too.

You were rendered from ever escaping. Though half-heartedly, you didn't wish to leave your child with Sukuna even though you despised both of their existence.

In this era, nurturing a child as a sole woman was beyond grasp. For all held the thought, as a woman your sole duty was to remain by your husband's side and bear his offspring.

You couldn't return to your home either. Your father, though loved you, would never let you set foot in his abode ever again.

Reasons: You were abducted by a man, your chastity stripped off of you. You were no longer pure in any sense.

He wouldn't tarnish his family name and reputation for just a daughter.

Moreover, your matrimony with the wicked, king of curses had reached rivers far; binding you to his side forever.

Peril loomed at every turn, dangling your life by a single thread. Easily snapped by even the weakest of men. Sukuna's adversaries would leave no stone unturned to reach him, venturing as far to lay down the life of his innocent wife. Someone absolved of his transgressions.

Reluctantly, you accepted that remaining by his side was the wisest decision.

You cradled your son in your embrace, rocking him back and forth as you hummed a lullaby to put him to sleep.

Once his snores serenaded the room, you tenderly placed him upon his cot, adjacent to your own resting place. Gentle pats graced his chest, once you noted him stirring in the embrace of slumber.

"Come to bed," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. Compliance swiped in your being, a swift rotation of your heels after you had checked your son to be far from awakening. You parted the curtains and perched upon the bed – lying beside your husband.

His arms encircled around your waist, drawing you to his chest, he inhaled your scent.

Your body tensed when his lips brushed against your nape. You dreaded the inevitable.

Six moons had passed, since he last embraced you intimately. The last two, post your son's arrival, were a blur of exhaustion. From tending to your physical strain and catering to your son's ceaseless crave of attention.

Tonight, all you longed for was to surrender yourself to slumber, wrapped in embrace of gentle linens. Alas, it seemed that wish would remain unfulfilled.

You were keenly aware of his intentions tonight – for he was but a man. Thus, you braced yourself.

You waited in anticipation, for him to act on his desires. Yet, it did not come to pass.

You cracked your eyelids open, stealing a glance at him. His carmine eyes met yours in a resolute stare, holding it with unwavering poise.

"Retire to sleep," he finally remarked, tenderly brushing aside the tendrils from your weary visage.

A year prior, during the early nights of your newly forged union, you would have taken a moment to contemplate his actions, perhaps even staying awake the entire night to discern his intentions.

Now, whether out of trust or simply exhaustion from the demands of motherhood – you found yourself slipping into a dreamless slumber without further ado.

The haunting nightmare of humanity, he was; yet, you found solace in falling asleep in his embrace.

.

His son has taken just after you.

Verily, his offspring could be likened unto a veritable likeness of himself in countenance, yet in comportment and carriage, he bespoke tales of you.

Awaking to the crack of dawn, shedding tears should companionship elude him. Taking solace in the embrace of the verdant garden, to which you oft escorted him. Even directing reproachful glances towards him, his father, whilst cradled lovingly in his paternal arms.

Beneath your eyes lay heavy shadows, hollows etched upon your cheeks, and a perpetual frown graced your lips, save for moments spent conversing with your offspring.

Sukuna escorted his sobbing kin from their chambers, affording you the much-needed respite that has eluded you of late; his offspring casted a disdainful gaze upon him.

"What? Speak up if you wish to," He queried, a playful lilt adorning his speech.

He tenderly traced his son's tender cheek with his claw, wary of leaving any mark upon his cherubic visage. His son seized his finger in both tiny hands, elevating it as though clutching a covert weapon – scrutinizing the nail and the ridges with keen interest.

His little one beamed, a gesture akin to the gentle breeze of summer, bestowed upon him by the heavens above. A giggle swift past his lips – a laughter, he assumed angel's melody wouldn't sound better.

His smile was yours – Sukuna realized. Perhaps, he hadn't completely taken after him in physical features.

Rocking his form back and forth on his arms, a tender smile danced upon his lips.

"Lower the tone, child. Your mother rests inside."

.

Sukuna couldn't help but contemplate alternative scenarios.

He sipped his sake, his gaze fixed upon your figure, leaning against the amado – your eyes lingering on the cherry blossom trees outside, in the garden.

The fragrance of spring permeated the air, imbuing a soothing atmosphere, starkly contrasting with the terror he instilled upon the village beyond the river.

At moments such as these, he can't help but ponder on the possibility of attaining a kinship with you, without resorting to unruly methods.

His thoughts rewind to the clash conversation he shared with you, mere moments past.

In your gaze, defiance ablazed, aimed straight at him.

"What's your intent? To end my life? Proceed, now. Who held you back? Proceed. Perhaps, I'd choose that fate over spending another day with you."

"Make no mistake," You pressed on. "My sentiment for you isn't love, don't deceive yourself. What festers within me is pure, unadulterated hate."

How could he let slip from memory? A curse he was, brutal and unyielding. Unwelcomed, marked with shame – The disgraceful one. How could he fail to recall? Love's realm, forever beyond the reach of his reach.

He seized you, by means unorthodox yet deemed vital. Yet, he finds himself lost in contemplation.

What if he had treaded a different path?

Would a love aglow your heart if he had courted you in a proper manner? Would you accept him in your life – a husband, a companion, a lover? Would you had willingly become his? 

For your presence brought his heart back to life; in doing so, the life and light was lost from your eyes.

Scorned by the desire to claim you as his, the thought of your own desires, feelings was pushed to the desolate corners of his mind.

In another realm, he assumes– in another realm, he might have treated you properly from the very beginning.

In another realm, you wouldn't have to have a lingering threat struck on your mind. You wouldn't fear him.

In a realm beyond, you'd stand beside him by choice, not coercion. A realm where he'd navigate every step flawlessly. A realm where, instead of vowing to set the world ablaze for you, he'd pledge to journey with you until the world's end.

Perhaps, in another realm, you'd fall in love with him like he did for you in this.

A/N: uhm uhm uhm, just typed down an idea which I had for days + I used a new format of literal english (idk how it turned out, I am so sorry if it's cringe 😭) + I fucking don't know how to end stories so bear with me.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

Hi hi!!!

Can I request a yandere Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x cybertronian! Reader??? (Transformers One)

Yes yes, more TFO Orion Pax and Optimus Prime yes yes. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

(TFO) Yandere!Orion Pax / Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!Reader - "Rebirth"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour. Obsessive and possessive behaviour, Reader gets basically kidnapped and isolated. Reader is gender neutral.

The days in Iacon started to slowly become brighter - the public murder of Sentinel Prime and Megatron's vanishment shook Iacon for too many days, making the days feel tense. But Elita-1, Bumblebee and Optimus Prime did such good at becoming the three lights of hope and guidance for Iacon.

Still, you couldn't help but miss the old days (of course, leaving out the corruption and social injustice of those days). You really shouldn't be remembering with some kind of nostalgia those days of hard shifts to be done until you were nearly feeling all of your joints hurt and have to suffer verbal harrassment from the guards just because of the work title you had as a miner.

... but deep down in your spark, you missed the Orion Pax you once knew.

Orion Pax, the pain in the aft for the guards and the mech who sometimes acted before thinking, having both Elita-1 and D-16 behind him and trying to keep him from getting in trouble or drag someone into the trouble (D-16 was always the one to suffer the latter). And the mech who was constantly courting you - little flirts and pick up lines, holding your servo at recharging hours, helping you in the working shifts, supporting you emotionally or making sure you didn't got hurt.

You were sure Orion Pax was the mech you wanted to court back oficially and become his Conjux - and he was damn sure he wanted that too! You miss those recharge hours that, before going into stasis mode, he would promise you to become your Conjux Endura and you, his.

And sadly, as the new Prime and head of Iacon, Orion - well, Optimus now didn't had that much free time: he had to be a leader, take decisions on the reconstruction socially and morally on Iacon, plan defense tactics against the Quintessons, and also keep an eye for any Decepticon activity as they have recently started to make a few little troubles outside of Iacon. And you were perfectly aware at how time consuming and sacrifice those tasks were - Optimus was moving for the sake of moving his people to reach a better life. And that only made you yearn more for him and love him silently, too.

Primus was still merciful, for whenever you and him managed to cross paths, Optimus Prime would give you those soft smiles you were used to, wishing you a good day and make sure to at least visit you a couple of kliks before you went to recharge.

"He still loves you." Elita-1 said to you one day you and she got to match your breaks.

"Really?" You ask, hopeful as the pink fembot nods her helm.

"He is always counting the kliks before it is time to go and recharge and see you again. Primus - he sometimes gets lost in his own thoughts and when Bee points out that he might be thinking about you, Optimus gets all blue of embarrassment." The fembot chuckles, making you chuckle as well and feel your spark warm.

That talk made you feel at ease - Optimus still loved you, just as you loved him. Still, you couldn't help but feel saddened at how much the two of you had to do and that kept you away from being with each other - to finally confess your feelings for the mech.

You shake your helm a little, taking a deep breath to then exhale as you place carefully a few datapads in their respective shelves at one of the recording rooms. "Keep your helm cool, (Y/N) - he is a Prime now and he is acting like one, he must look for our people... there will be time soon to meet again and bond with him." You try to tell yourself and lift your own mood. You smile to yourself, deciding to remain hopeful yet with your pedes on reality and keep working.

As you work, a big frame remains hidden from your knowledge outside of the room, a few steps away from the entrance.

When Orion felt his cold frame be embraced by the warm light of the Allspark and his spark be set on once again - to then hear his new name be called... he came to terms that he died. To then be reborn.

Rebirthing was always been a studied yet not spoken concept in the Cybertronian society. There were many theories that being reborn was possible - Primus works in such interesting ways... of course, many that believe in said concept always come to the same conclusion: a cybertronian can go through the process of rebirth. But it will never be the same.

You name it - lost memories that are now deep buried in their systems and softwares, old mannerism from their past lives still engraved in their spark but never recalling when those mannerisms appeared in the first place, and so on. The same, but changed.

And that's what happened to Orion - he knew who he was before dying, but also didn't feel like Orion, but now as Optimus Prime. The same, but changed.

His love for you... did change, too.

He still loved you - with such a fiery passion, the same one that kept him pushing and moving when he was out of Iacon with Elita, Bee and (his now lost) D-16. He wanted to bring justice for his people and you, give you what you were taken from: the right to live.

He still felt his spark buzz and pulsate at the sight of you - precious, beautiful, ethereal you.

But, while when he was just Orion Pax, his love for you felt fuzzy, warm and innocent... now it felt - too complex.

When he saw you again after Megatron's vanishment and your T-cog making your frame change a little, he felt his spark vibrate with such intensity. He wanted to hold you and not let go, let his spark and yours fuse until they were just one. He wanted to keep you in his arms and carry you, never let you once again work, walk or waste energy in any sense - he wanted to keep you safe and sound, in his hold, hugging you and let you rest as much as you want.

Each time he saw you interact with others made his spark hiss - it scared him as the need to take you and not let others talk or see you grew and grew. He knew it was wrong. It was more than wrong. He always prayed to Primus silently for strenght, trying to force himself ot not seek out for you just to see you - but his spark would agonize, pulsate with such hysteria and pain that it would only calm down after setting Optimus' optics on you from afar.

Optimus wants to feel guilty for this changed love for you and how he takes advantage of his new title to task you with small jobs that keeps you isolated from others, like fixing archives and datapads in the recording rooms or such.

He begged to Primus to have his spark teared off - he was becoming the same false Prime that ruled over them before. Or worse.

"Oh, Or- I mean, Optimus." Your sweet voice makes Optimus click back into reality, finding you right in front of him, holding a few datapads with your servos, giving him that gentle smile with your faceplate.

"I was looking for you." Optimus announced as you left the datapads on the desk of the recording room. And his spark purred at the sight of your smile growing, brightly as always.

"Oh, really? I mean - what can I do for you?" You ask. And your spark twirls when Optimus extends his servo at you to hold. And you gladly take it, his hold strong and warm, still gentle with you as he starts to walk. And Optimus can't help but smile softly as he sees how you follow him.

The Prime looks down at you, his optics holding that genuine love that was slowly twisting into something that scared him - and yet, allows to keep going. After all, his mind didn't stop his body when he started to walk towards your working area.

"I've been meaning to... speak with you - sadly, my tasks as a Prime had kept me from looking after you before. But I've decided to no longer await." Optimus explains, his thumb gently caressing your servo. "Would you... care for a little chat in my headquarters?"

You nod - Precious you. Perfect you.

Optimus feels his spark twirl, again. He hoped you liked the idea of living with him now. After all, if he wanted to court you properly to become a worthy Conjux, he needed to show you how much you meant to him. How much he loved you.

Don't worry - Optimus Prime will keep you safe. Away from any danger, away from anyone, away from the world.

Hehe I love Optimus Prime. o((>ω< ))o Vhaos out!

[lxkeee]

UNEXPECTED

—ONESHOT

PAIRING: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM! SINNER! READER

GENRE: not angst:)

WARNINGS: no angst fr

NOTES: When I hit a writing slump in one of my series, I try to write one shots to inspire myself:3

We fall in love with three different people in our lifetime.

First love, this love often happens at a young age. You eventually grow apart or call it quits over silly things. When you get older you may look back and think it wasn't love. But the truth is, it was. It was love for what you knew love to be.

Lucifer fell in love with his best friend, Raphael. She was the only one who believed in his silly dreams when he was still in heaven, that's one of the reasons he fell for the seraphim. He didn't tell her, he didn't get the chance to as unfortunately, Raphael told him about her crush on Azrael.

This made him put a distance between them, despite a breaking heart, he played as her wingman and set her and Azrael up.

Lucifer was proud of himself for doing that, he got to see his best friend to be so happy and in love. He can see how good Azrael is treating her and he knows that she'll be in safe hands.

Second love, the hard one. You get hurt in this one. This love teaches us lessons and makes us stronger. This love includes great pain, lies, betrayal, abuse, drama and damage.

But this is the one where we grow. We realize what we love about love and what we don't love about love.

Now we know the difference between good and bad humans. Now we become closed, careful, cautious and considerate.

We know exactly what we want and don't want.

After Azrael and Raphael got married, it wasn't exactly difficult for Lucifer to move on. He saw how happy she is and he decided that he shouldn't dwell on heartbreaking things. He continues to do his wonderful creations for the world. Raphael remained supportive of him, continuing to believe in his dreams despite the elders not believing in him.

Then came Adam and Lilith, he was mesmerized when he saw Lilith when he visited the Garden of Eden.

He fell in love with her and so did she to him, he listened to her how Adam wasn't treating her right. He couldn't believe a woman like her is treated like that.

He talked about her to Raphael and even though the seraphim was happy for him, she warned him not to do anything stupid. He promised that he wouldn't.

The more time he spent with Lilith, they slowly got to know each other.

He and Lilith shared the same beliefs, causing them to give the fruit of forbidden knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve who gladly accepted.

With that, evil finally found its way to earth. Lucifer and Lilith were both banished into hell for what they had done.

Even though hell was dark, empty, and incredibly hot. He and Lilith managed to make it work. They were madly and deeply in love. Their love bore fruit and that is their beloved daughter, Charlotte Morningstar.

An eternity in hell with his family doesn't seem so bad.

Not all happy things last, slowly his and Lilith's beliefs started to clash once mortal souls slowly came down to hell. Lucifer witnessed the cruelty of mankind, how his actions gave these souls freedom to do incredibly horrifying things.

“This is how they used their free will...?” he asked himself.

He hated it, he lost so much because of the risk he did to give humanity freedom.

Lilith on the other hand, thrived off the evil.

Their differences caused them to split.

He fell into depression, how couldn't he? The woman he loved for so many eons left him? Not only that, his relationship with his daughter is deteriorating. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he held her.

For so many years, he believed that he was unlovable and he was destined to be alone. Why wouldn't he think that when the love of his life, the mother of his daughter left him?

Third love, this one comes blindly. No warning. It creeps on you silently.

You don't go looking for this love.. It comes to you.

You can put up ANY wall you want, it will be broken down. You'll find yourself caring about that person without trying. They look nothing like your usual crush types, but you get lost in their eyes daily. You see beauty in their imperfections. You hide nothing from them. You want marriage and family with them. You thank the universe for them. You truly love them.

It took a while but Lucifer managed to reconnect with his daughter, he promised to be there for her.

He helped her how to get to heaven, he helped her when the extermination happened.

He was proud of himself, promising to help the hotel as he can finally see that his daughter's dreams weren't hopeless. He was filled with hope once more, he wanted to help humanity once more.

It was sudden, no warning. He wasn't even looking for love.

Lucifer found himself staring at the third sinner who joined the hotel, [Y/n]. She joined and he was able to befriend and get to know the sinner.

He showed off his rubber duck collections to her, he thought she would find his hobby silly but turns out she loved it and found it adorable.

It was unexpected.

He suddenly found himself wide awake in his bed at the dead of the night, staring at the ceiling as countless thoughts of [Y/n] filled his mind.

“Uh oh.” he muttered, a realization that he fell for the sinner so suddenly and he fell hard.

He can only think of her bright and sparkly [e/c] eyes, her soft hair, soft skin, her beautiful face, and everything of her.

He groans, “Luciferrrr... you just had to fall for someone so suddenly and that is your friend too.” he groans to himself, mad at himself for falling for someone he thought he could call a friend.

He doesn't want to be friends with her, he wants to be more. He wants to marry her, have a family with her, worship her like the sinner he is.

After coming to the realization, he decided not to confess immediately. Wanting to see how deep his affections for her goes.

And it was deep, it was rock bottom. He was whipped.

He doesn't mind losing himself in the process when he loves her.

He pretended, he hid his feelings. Afraid of losing her.

It took so long, hiding it became unbearable.

He spilled the three words to her, “I like you.” he says so suddenly, he was mesmerized by her that the words came out so suddenly. Catching both him and her off guard.

His eyes widened, slapping a hand over his mouth.

[Y/n] just looked at him with wide eyes, cheeks tinted pink from fluster.

“I-I'm sorry, pretend I didn't say that...” he says, slightly stammering his words. His heart was beating erratically, his hands felt warm against his gloves. His cheeks are warm, warmer than usual. The spots on his cheek have reddened more than usual, almost glowing red.

He covered his face with his hand, embarrassed.

He was expecting that she would be gone once he removed his hands away from his face.

He felt his hand being held by soft ones, removing them from his face.

“Lucifer, look at me.” she says softly to him, he looked at her shyly and with embarrassment. His red eyes finally met [e/c] ones. He admired how beautiful she looked.

Her eyes were looking at him with so much adoration, cheeks flushed, and she was shyly smiling at him.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked softly, hope evident in her voice.

He gulped nervously but decided to nod at her, a slow shy nod.

He could see how her eyes sparkled, her smile got bigger.

“I'm glad... I like you too, Lucifer.” she admitted softly to him, her voice devoid of any lies and only filled with honesty.

His eyes widened, his cheeks getting warmer.

“Why...? What's something about me to love?” he asked her sadly, avoiding her eyes. He is happy she felt the same but he genuinely can't see himself deserving of love.

“There's nothing about you that I couldn't love, I love everything about you... Lucifer.” she admitted softly, holding his hand with hers.

His breath got caught in his throat, his heart beating erratically against his ribcage.

“I am hard to love.” he says softly, ashamed. He squeezed her hand gently.

“Who said that?” she asked softly.

“Me.”

Her eyes softened, her other hand caressed his cheek adoringly, “Well, you're wrong. I can love you just as easily as breathing.”

Speechless, embarrassed, and flustered. He's not used to such affectionate words said to him.

“Huh...?”

“I meant it.” she says softly, leaning closer to him, “Can I kiss you...?” she asked and he forgot to breathe.

“Y-yes, please...”

Soft lips pressed against his, his eyes closed instinctively as his hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

They'll be fine. He'll be fine. He has her now.

GENERAL TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @akiqvq @the-attention-whore @homie-xidal @nicora04 @knave-hearts @emekeneme @chirp23 @wendds @crazed-flower @your-next-daydream @rocketxgirl @tobe-a-smiley @purplerose291 @ritzes28

[dindjarindiaries]

Doomsday

summary: You and Din are interrogated by Moff Gideon, who has quickly realized you’re the best weapon he has to use against the Mandalorian.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

tags: intense physical & emotional torture (incl. choking), injuries (incl. dislocations & blood), trauma, hurt/comfort, angst

word count: 5.197k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

Doomsday had finally arrived, but at least you and Din would be going down together.

Your hands and ankles had since been bound by yellow fibercord, strong enough to resist every effort you tried to make to break free of them. The same had been done to Din, leaving even the galaxy’s most formidable warrior helpless. There was nothing else you two could do than allow the Super Commandos to drag you through the corridors of Moff Gideon’s base.

The thought alone twisted a sickening knot inside your stomach. Somehow, it had come to that again. You played yourselves right into Gideon’s filthy hands.

Of course, you and Din had been the only ones to survive the trap on your side of the blast door. He had acted as your shield, and maybe if he hadn’t needed to block so much of the Commandos’ blaster fire, he would’ve been able to take them down easier. You were quickly finding out that you were more of a liability in Din’s life than a partner, even if your shared vows said otherwise.

The Commandos brought the two of you into what you assumed was the briefing room Gideon had mentioned before. Each pair of troopers had set you and Din on your knees across from each other, forcing you to face one another. You couldn’t bear to look at him, no matter how much the mere sight of him comforted you.

You had only been at Gideon’s mercy once before, but never like this—and that one time was enough to almost take Din away from you forever.

“Cyar’ika.” Din’s modulated voice was soft, but due to the tense silence in the room, it nearly made you jump. Your gaze still darted across the floor. “Cyar’ika, look at me.”

His words weren’t a plea. Instead, they were a comfort, as if he was verbally trying to lay his own cape over your shoulders. It earned him your gaze, and despite how disheartening the sight of him tied-up was, the sweet familiarity of his visor began to ease the unsettled knot within you.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You swallowed hard, wishing you could borrow his strength for once as you instead dreaded the shadows turning the corner towards the room’s entryway. “Promise?” Your voice was no more than a whisper.

Din nodded. “Promise.”

You fought to ignore the amused huff one of the Commandos let out, but Din couldn’t do the same. He shoved his side against the trooper’s leg, earning him a hit of the trooper’s blaster against his helmet. Din grunted, and you winced to yourself, staring at the floor once again.

Gideon’s bootsteps manifested from the shadows, presenting you with the vision of his full figure. His new armor was still a lot to process, especially with the knowledge that it had been inspired by the Dark Troopers that had nearly taken all of you out on Gideon’s light cruiser. He stopped once he entered and let the door slide closed behind him before he raised his helmet from his head and offered it to one of the troopers at his side.

“And so we all meet again.” Gideon sounded overjoyed at his proclamation, his arms raising at his sides as he chuckled in cruel delight. “If only it was under better circumstances.”

You and Din remained silent. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, but you still couldn’t quite return his look. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and hoped the sudden wave of nausea would go with it.

“Ah, yes, I see how it is. You’d like to get this done quickly.” Gideon’s sickening smirk remained as his arms fell back to his sides. “For once, our desires align.” He gestured over to Din. “Remove his helmet.”

“No!” You couldn’t bite back your instant protest as it clawed its way through your throat. You set your jaw and stared Gideon down with a lethal gaze. Your chest burned with the flame of hatred as you tugged on the troopers’ grasps.

Gideon’s gaze sparkled at you as he set his focus in your direction. “Is there another option you’d like to present at this time?”

Your gaze slid down to Din, who was somehow as composed as ever. His visor had never strayed from you, as if he was studying every inch of you to make sure you were okay. You let out a defeated exhale. “What do you want from us?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m desiring something?”

“There’s no other reason why you’d have us here.” You scoffed and shook your head, using the logic Din had often praised you for. “You have everything you’ve ever wanted. A shiny beskar suit, a fully-equipped base on Mandalore itself, the ability to make even the strongest of warriors yield to your demands.” You frowned as you sifted through everything. “There’s nothing we could offer you.”

You looked at Din again. His armored chest suddenly stalled, and yours did the same at the same time. Oh shit.

“Bait.” For Bo-Katan, certainly, but mostly for Grogu—for another shot to take more of his blood.

“You’re asking and answering my own questions for me.” Gideon gave you a smile of approval. “That’s a brilliant mind.” Gideon’s attention shifted to Din as his smile widened. “Must be why you decided to wed.”

Din’s chest began to move again as he calmed himself with steady breaths. Still, he presented no response, remaining silent in a way that clearly brought Gideon heavy frustration.

“What do you think, Din Djarin?” Gideon tilted his head, his smile straightening out into a look that had haunted your nightmares longer than you cared to admit. “Should we keep this easy and slip off that helmet now?”

Din only raised his chin higher at Gideon. Your heart twisted in your chest as you realized the motion gave Gideon and his men easier access to the lip of his helmet.

“I can’t let you do that.” Your voice was low, rough, and bitter, as if it had been squeezed out of your tense throat. You narrowed your eyes at Gideon as his gaze met yours again. “I won’t let you.”

“Is that so?” Gideon hummed and strolled closer to you. “And what do you intend to do about it?”

You circled your jaw. “Whatever it takes.”

Gideon’s gaze sparkled again. He knelt down in front of you and held your chin with his fingers. “Anything?”

You jerked your head back, forcing his grip away from yourself as you snarled at him. “Anything.”

Gideon smiled in satisfaction. “There we go. Compliance.” He kept his voice soft as he tilted his head at you. “All I need to ask you is a simple question, then.”

You kept your anger at the forefront of your mind, knowing that if it faltered, fear would surely give way. “Fire away.”

Gideon nodded. He asked his question like it was the easiest thing in the world to answer. “Why did you come to Mandalore?”

Your expression didn’t falter. “For fun.”

The corner of Gideon’s mouth twitched. “Ah. Yes.” He stood back to his full height and stepped back, nodding at one of the Commandos. Next thing you knew, your cheek was burning from the trooper’s blaster hitting it, and the stinging it left behind promised not only a forming bruise but also a bleeding cut.

“Gideon.” Din spoke for the first time since Gideon had entered, though his voice was more a growl than anything else. It was the angriest you had ever heard him. “Keep your hands off them and focus that energy on me.”

Gideon turned his head towards Din. “Is that a treat?”

Din tilted his helmet, a slow and calculated motion. “It’s a promise.”

Gideon huffed, clearly amused by Din—as if he wasn’t on the receiving end of one of the galaxy’s greatest warrior’s threats. Before he could speak, you filled the space with your own voice. “It’s all right.” You rolled your shoulders, ignoring the way the Commandos tightened their grip on you. “I can take it.”

Gideon lifted his brow, genuinely impressed. “I believe you.” His lips spread in a slow smile. “But the question is,” he turned towards Din, “can he take it?”

“No.” You shook your head at Gideon and hoped your pure desperation wasn’t obvious. You couldn’t handle watching them hurt Din at your expense. “There’s no need for that. There’s no need for any of this.”

Gideon waved a gloved hand towards you. “Would you like to plead your case?” You tightened your jaw, and Gideon offered a dramatic bow, giving you the floor.

“You already know why we’re here. It’s why you sent your forces after the fleet. You need us alive if you intend on using us as bait, and given the fact you somehow know about our marriage, it seems there’s nothing about us you don’t already know.” You tilted your head at Gideon, narrowing your eyes as you assessed him. “So why did you ask me about coming here, and what the hell do you really want to know?”

Gideon hummed. “Ah, you misunderstood. I don’t want to know why you’re on Mandalore now. I want to know why you were here before.”

Your blood ran cold, but you kept your face unchanged. “We weren’t here before.”

Gideon chuckled. “Whose TIE interceptors did you think were following you?”

You swallowed hard and looked at Din. His visor, however, was stuck on Gideon, something that made the knot in your stomach tie tighter. There was more that you weren’t getting.

“That’s not the only thing you misunderstood.” Gideon was smug as he went on, clearly proud of himself for outsmarting you. “You thought I intended on hurting him.” He paused for a moment and shrugged. “In a way, I suppose you were right.” You froze as one of the troopers at Gideon’s side stepped in front of you. “Just not physically.”

The Super Commando tossed his blaster to the floor and swung his fist before you could process the action. You took the hit with a gasp of both surprise and pain, feeling the sting of it on the side of your face they hadn’t already hurt. You were ready for the next one, and you had braced yourself before it hit your other cheek that had already gone sore.

The sound of a struggle was somehow louder than the blood roaring in your ears. “Gideon, if you value your life, you’ll stop.” Din’s warning was so terrifyingly ruthless and genuine that it made a shiver run down your own spine. The breathless way it was spoken due to his constant struggle against the Commandos’ grasp on him only made it more threatening.

Gideon remained unshaken. “Answer my question, then.”

“Don’t.” You bit back a whimper at the soreness of your jaw as you gave Din a determined look. “I can take it.” Din’s visor met your gaze and that time, you were the one who sought to comfort him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The trooper disappeared behind you. You knew better than to think it meant you were in the clear. A moment later, his arm wrapped around your neck from behind, closing your airway more and more as he slowly pulled you in tighter. You tried your best not to make your struggle obvious, but eventually, you couldn’t help it. You fought to keep your gaze on Din, who had started pulling even harder at the Commandos’ grasp.

“Make them stop.” Din’s words were a pure growl once again. You accidentally let your gasp for air escape you in a way that made Din repeat himself much louder. “Make. Them. Stop.”

Your vision began to go spotty. You blinked an apology at Din if he could understand it before you let your eyes fall closed to focus on staying awake—staying alive.

“All you have to do, Din Djarin, is ans—.”

“Get the hell away from them and take my damn helmet off already!”

That was Din yelling. But, it couldn’t be. Din never yelled. He was never afraid. And he sure sounded afraid just then—but also very, very angry. You needed to breathe. Please, please…

The arm at your neck fell away, and you fell with it. Your body crumpled forward as you coughed and gasped for air, your neck and throat burning. The troopers pulled you back up, forcing your lungs to work even harder, but at least letting you see Din again. He was fighting to maintain his composure, and you noticed that right away, but his steady breaths indicated that he was getting closer to calming down again.

“So.” Gideon was smiling again as he looked at Din. How the hell was he smiling at that, at inflicting such horrible pain upon people? “That’s the choice you’re making.” He shook his head, as if he was disappointed with Din. “Breaking your precious Creed instead of answering a simple question?”

Din remained silent. Just like before, he held his chin up higher, offering his helmet up as if it was the easiest thing in the entire galaxy to do.

Gideon gestured for one of his men to step forward. You shook your head, your chest still heaving as you spoke with all the air you had managed to gather back into your lungs. “No, Din. Please.” Your voice was so hoarse even you could barely recognize it. As the trooper stood in front of Din, your panic rose, and flashes of every moment that led up to Din’s redemption in the Living Waters hit you in a single second. “No, no! Please.”

“Just tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make it stop.” Gideon had the audacity to act honorable as he nodded at you with a wrinkled brow, as if he was pitying you. It took all your self control to resist spitting in his direction.

“It’s okay.” Din’s voice was soft again, just as it had been when he first spoke to you in this horrible, terrifying room. You found his visor and lost yourself in it, for once in your life praying to the stars that you wouldn’t have to see his brown eyes anytime soon. “Just like I promised.” He nodded at you, then he turned his attention to the trooper at his side. “Do it.”

The Commando waited for Gideon’s command, and once he earned a nod from the Moff, the trooper reached forward to grab the lip of Din’s helmet. That’s when Din slammed his helmet forward, hitting the Commando’s hand at an angle perfect enough to make it bend and break at the wrist. The trooper cried out in pain and fell back a few steps, grabbing at his limp hand.

You smiled to yourself. Of course Din had a plan. You were foolish to think he wouldn’t.

But that sense of victory was short-lived. Gideon gestured to Din’s shoulder and the Commando on Din’s right side followed the unspoken order. You had no time to prepare as you watched the trooper grab Din’s arm tightly with both hands and pull it as far back and away from Din’s shoulder as he could.

The sickening crack couldn’t be heard over the sound of Din’s agonized scream. You squeezed your eyes shut so tight it made your temples throb, your stomach so sick that it threatened to expel any contents it had left onto the floor. Your lips trembled, the devastation that flooded your being overwhelming you in waves the more you heard Din’s pained breaths and quiet whimpers.

“There we go.” Gideon was satisfied. Of course he was. He delighted in draining the strength from those who posed a true threat to him. “It should be safe to remove his helmet now.”

You managed to open your eyes once again, but you almost wished you’d kept them closed. Din’s right arm was entirely limp at his side, but the Commandos still held him up anyway, no doubt adding more painful pressure to his dislocated shoulder. The trooper at Din’s left side was the one who made the move for his helmet, foregoing any sense of decency as he tore the beskar from Din’s head.

There was nothing but pure pain written all over Din’s handsome face. It contorted every feature in a way that made you fight the grasps holding you down, even if you were aware of how pointless that fighting was. Your chest heaved in panic for him rather than a need for air, and you didn’t care if Gideon noticed.

Then Din’s brown gaze met yours, and you realized there was actually a part of him that wasn’t in pain. His eyes were full of concern and comfort, both of which he aimed in your direction, his gaze never once straying from yours. He wrinkled his brow in a way that somehow differed from his look of agony. Are you okay?

Your lips continued to tremble, but you pulled them tighter in a vain effort to stop them. You offered a small nod and wrinkled your brow to ask him the very same thing.

Din’s brow relaxed, and with all the true determination and strength of the Mandalorian you wed long ago, he nodded as well.

For that moment, you believed him. You always did, and you always would. No matter how damn painful a dislocated shoulder was, especially with so much pressure on it, Din had certainly experienced worse pain before.

“Now we can get some answers.” Gideon sounded relieved as he turned his attention to you. “Are you ready to talk?”

You looked at him with all the hatred you felt for him in your heart. “Hell no.”

Gideon raised one corner of his mouth. “Your resilience is impressive, I must admit.” His head lowered, but his gaze remained in yours, looking deeper into the true feelings that hid within it. “But for as much as you’ve composed yourself, you’ve given just as much away. Nervous glances are saying what your tongue doesn’t have the courage to.”

Gideon paused, looking over at the Commandos by Din and nodding. One of them kicked Din in the ribs, making him grunt in surprise as an immediate punch to his cheek earned a pained gasp. Your eyes squeezed shut. They had already given enough away.

In all these years of being one of the galaxy’s greatest warriors, Din had never gotten a hit to his face without his beskar barrier—until now.

“That’s it.” Gideon’s victorious voice ran a horrible chill down your spine. “You won’t let him talk if we focus on you. But you…” you chanced looking at him again just to see another conniving smile, “you will comply if we focus on him.”

Your gaze found Din’s. You expected to find disappointment and pain there, but in true Din fashion, he offered nothing but comfort yet again. He gave you another nod, just like before. It’s gonna be okay.

“Fine.” Din’s gaze flashed with panic as you spoke with a resigned voice. You let your eyes fall to the floor in defeat. “I’ll tell you.” You swallowed hard and looked up, unable to face Din as you focused on Gideon. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Gideon smiled in victory. Stars, he was so arrogant that he wouldn’t have been able to see your mask slip even if you let it. “Let’s hear it.”

You looked at Din, painting guilt on your expression in a way that wasn’t completely a lie. Just seeing the pain that continued to remain on Din’s face, as well as the concern he held for you, was enough to make that guilt a little more real. “Beskar.” Din’s brown gaze flashed with understanding, but only for a moment. He quickly began to mask as he dropped his head in feigned disappointment. “We wanted beskar.”

Gideon didn’t buy it right away. “That’s it?” He scoffed. “After years of exile, you returned for… beskar?”

“We needed a large supply. An endless one, really.” You bit your cheek and paused. “I… I wanted my own suit of armor. Our people didn’t have enough for that. So, we took the risk and came here ourselves.”

Gideon’s gaze gave you a less-than-impressed once-over. “Clearly, that plan of yours didn’t work.”

“But our mission was worth it.” You raised your chin, selling your act with the true confidence you felt budding in your chest. “We may not have mined any beskar, but we discovered the planet was breathable, habitable. We were the ones who brought Bo-Katan back, and we were the ones who helped her to unite all Mandalorians—despite your best efforts to keep them apart.”

Gideon’s lip twitched. You didn’t bother hiding your smile of success. It would only sell your lie even more. “In doing so, you still made one critical failure.” Gideon nodded at one of the troopers next to you. “You never got your armor.”

The Commando slammed their knee into your ribs, not even to break them but certainly to bruise them. You gasped at the feeling, and a split second later, Din cried out in pain himself as he fought the troopers’ grasp on him, despite his heavily wounded shoulder. His eyes were screwed shut in an agony you couldn’t begin to imagine, but he fought anyway.

“Don’t forget, Din Djarin.” Gideon’s attention shifted to Din with another one of those sickening smiles. “You can’t hide your pain from us, now. Your face is even more expressive than theirs.” He pointed a lazy hand towards you.

Din reopened his eyes, a brown blaze of fury that would have terrified you if you weren’t so familiar with his softer and kinder nature. He spoke for the first time since having his helmet removed, his voice somehow even more threatening than before even amidst his hoarseness from his screaming. “You think you’ve won something by doing this.”

Gideon shrugged, smiling wider—and confirming Din’s words in the process.

“You think you’re the first Imperial who’s ever seen my face.”

Din huffed, an amused sound that matched the growing smirk on his blood-encrusted lips. Gideon’s expression began to falter. Din raised his chin and lowered his voice in a tone you’d only heard him use one other time before his duel with Paz.

“You’re wrong.” When Gideon’s brow furrowed in disbelief at Din’s words, he nodded. “That’s right. I’ve broken my Creed before.” Din chuckled and raised his brow at Gideon in expectation. “More than once.” He tilted his head. “Does that make you angry?”

Gideon himself stepped forward to deal Din his next blow. You braced yourself for it, closing your eyes as you heard the sound of Gideon’s fist meeting Din’s face. Din, however, only let out a grunt, a sound that immediately transitioned into a laugh as Din gave Gideon a less-than-impressed once-over.

“Really? That’s it?”

Gideon scowled and kicked his boot towards Din’s dislocated shoulder. You closed your eyes before you had to watch Din scream in pain. Hearing it was bad enough. Your lips had started trembling again, especially as Din’s pained whimpers continued with each breath he took.

“I’m satisfied for now.” Gideon rolled his shoulders and nodded at the troopers. “We’ll leave them in here, seal the door.” Gideon’s signature smile returned as he looked pointedly in your direction. “I have a feeling the worst for them is yet to come.”

A chill ran down your spine at his ominous words. With that, the Commandos at your sides all but threw you against the floor. You sprawled out as they filed out of the room behind Gideon, struggling to push yourself up with your bound wrists as you heard the door slide closed. Instantly, you looked at Din, who they had so graciously left on his injured side.

“Oh, Din.” Your voice was a broken whisper as you crawled your way over to him.

Every breath Din took was pained, but there was nothing he could do to help himself. His gaze found you when you got closer, and your shattered heart fell apart within your chest as you saw the tears of pain there he had clearly been fighting to keep away from Gideon.

Your own eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry.” You couldn’t stop apologizing as you lifted your bound hands to his face and held it the best you could. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do this to me. You got me through it.” All of Din’s words came through gritted teeth as he fought the agony that attacked him. Still, he nodded at you with determination. “Can you help me up?”

You returned his nod, biting your cheek as you held his left arm with your bound hands and pulled. Din barely swallowed back his cry—and part of it still escaped—as the pressure on his shoulder released. You wanted to empty your stomach again at the sight of his limp arm, but before you could process it, Din spoke again.

“Are you okay?” Din looked as if he was trying to raise his bound hands to your face, but his shoulder wouldn’t let him, causing him to close his eyes and growl at the pain. “You’re bleeding. And…” his inhaled, reopening his eyes and revealing his pain—though this kind wasn’t physical, “your neck…” He trailed off, circling his jaw in evident anger.

You didn’t have to see yourself to know there were already bruises forming around your neck from the trooper’s tight grasp. “I’m all right. I promise. Like I said before, I can take it.” You covered his bound hands with your own. I’m not the one we need to be worrying about right now.”

Din’s gaze fell to your hands as he heaved the best breath he could manage. “I need your help again.” His eyes met yours. “It needs to go back in.”

“I…” you choked on the words you intended to say, “I can’t.”

Din’s gaze searched yours with a desperation that left you breathless. “Please.”

You closed your eyes and steadied yourself with a breath. “Isn’t it gonna hurt you?”

Din nodded, refusing to lie to you. “Badly.” His forehead fell against your own in his effort to comfort both of you. “But you’ll be fixing me.” Din’s voice was a soft, intimate whisper as his lips brushed over your own. “It’s okay.”

Your lips began trembling again, so Din steadied them with his own. His mouth slotted over yours, as if you were the only remedy that could truly fix him. It alleviated all of the horrors and worries if even for just those precious few moments, your shaky breaths strengthened by his own before he pulled away and kept his forehead against yours.

Din nodded. “It’s okay.”

You tightened your jaw, returning his nod before you leaned away. “Here.” You managed to tug the leather off one of your hands as you lifted it towards Din’s face. “To help with the pain.”

The corner of Din’s mouth lifted in the best smile he could manage. You helped him bite down on the leather and waited for another nod that would be your cue to work on his arm. Even though you weren’t quite ready yourself, you were going to help him, just as he had asked you to.

“On three.” Your grasp on his arm alone caused Din to growl into the leather, but the material at least worked to muffle the sound. “One… two…” you closed your eyes for a moment and inhaled sharply, “three!”

You corrected Din’s shoulder placement in one swift move. The popping it made as it fell back in place could be felt under your fingers, but once again, all you could hear was Din’s own agony—even through the leather. You lifted your hands and saw Din’s eyes screwed shut as his head hung in pain and exhaustion, each grueling sound still cutting through the leather.

You maneuvered yourself in front of him again and held his face the best you could with your bound hands, running circles over his tightened jaw as he began to relax more and more. There was a single tear that had escaped his eyes no doubt caused by his agony, and you were quick to wipe it away as you held him until he was breathing evenly again.

When Din’s gaze met yours, you took the leather and removed it from his mouth. He was quick to lean forward and kiss your cheek. “Thank you.” His voice was nothing but an exhausted rasp. “I love you.”

Your lips and your voice wobbled as you responded. “I love you, too.” You shook your head, the devastation hitting you in waves as it brought a flood of tears to your gaze. “I’m sorry they’ve done this to you.” Your gaze flickered to his helmet that still laid on its side many feet away. “All of it.”

Din raised his bound hands to your face despite how badly it hurt him, something that was clear by the tight growl he released as he did so. As if you were his tether of safety and comfort to the galaxy, his grip on you made him relax once again. His voice was so quiet you almost missed it. “You say that like it’s your fault.”

You tried to steady yourself with a breath, but you hiccuped on it instead. Din’s forehead pressed against yours; he was just as much your tether to the galaxy as you were his. “If you hadn’t had to defend both of us from them…”

“No.” Din shook his head at that, minding your own as he kept your foreheads together. “You should have never been in that situation to begin with.” Din’s gloved fingers ran over your cheek. “Neither of us should have.”

You heaved another breath. “Your Creed… after everything you did…”

Din shrugged, wincing as he moved his bad shoulder. “We’re still on Mandalore.” He managed a half smile. “I’ll just go back to the Living Waters when we’re free.”

You didn’t dare voice your fears about ever getting out of there. Instead, you lowered your head to the space between his good shoulder and his cowl, tucking yourself underneath his bound hands so that his arms could be around you. His hands still held the back of your head the best they could.

You hated how small your voice was, but with all the hours you’d experienced in such a short amount of time, you couldn’t help it. “Can you tell me it’s gonna be okay again?”

Din’s face rested upon your head as he did just that. “It’s gonna be okay, cyar’ika.”

You closed your eyes. “Promise?”

Din nodded. “Promise.”

And despite all the odds stacked against the two of you, you believed him.

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

[florencemtrash]

Masterlist of Masterlists:

A collection of my writings, all in one convenient location (AKA the root of all things posted on my blog):

ACOTAR:

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird - Completed

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

The Wisp Between Worlds - on hiatus

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Flame, Shadow, Beast - Completed

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

The Artificer: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV - Azriel x Reader

Club Rats & Cigarettes: Part I - Azriel x Reader

To Sleep at Your Back - Azriel x Reader

Bedsides and Breakfasts - Azriel x Reader

He Feels Safe With You - Azriel x Reader

Take it off - Azriel x Reader

In a Year's Time - Azriel x Reader

Let them find us here - Azriel x OC

Heads will roll - Azriel x Reader

Please remember me - Azriel x Reader

The Ballad of the Shadowsinger - Azriel x Reader

Brown Eyed Beauty - Lucien x Reader

ATSV:

Hummingbird - Completed

Summary: What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Wedding Invitations - Miguel O'Hara x Reader

[starshipsofstarlord]

in sickness and in health

summary. daryl is distant, more so than usual, and so you force yourself into his personal bubble, wanting to make sure that he is okay since he is the only reminder of your old life before the outbreak

warnings. fluff, sick!daryl, mentions of death, admission of feelings, mentions of suicide, swearing

divider credits. @cafekitsune

Sickness could be life threatening, especially in a world without medical expertise, but you were lucky enough to be on the land owned by a practitioner of animal welfare. Hershel wasn’t a doctor, however he knew enough to have saved Carl’s life, to the pledged appreciation of Lori and Rick. The older man felt indebted to ensure that the boy regained his strength, and so your group tampered with negotiations to remain on the farm. It wasn’t a permanent reside, your welcoming was of temporary habitation, although the ex-officer was hoping to sweeten the bones of the vet.

The grass brushed against your calves as you stalked through one of the large fenced fields, staring at the distance which was illuminated by the hot sun. It was soon to be the last days of summer, and you wished to enjoy the heat breathing upon your skin before you began to get bitten by the autumnal breeze. It was a relief to be departed for just a moment from those whom you had survived with, you rested your palm around the fence, daring to pass over it, and run free.

But you couldn’t. Not when you had the knowledge that ties in the group were unraveling, and soon they would wind all the way loose, and although you knew that the aftermath would not be pretty, there was only one thing keeping you here. A quick glance in the direction of his lonesome tent had your heart swarming with a tornado of emotions, Daryl had pried himself even further away from those that judged him, and was practically living in his own forced solitary confinement. And for a day or two he had even been avoiding you, the only person that he felt as though he could confide in.

For some reason he had yet proclaim that you both up and leave the company that you had weaselled into, and escape the hurdles that had yet to break. You opted to chew at your fingernails for a moment, a habit that you had acclaimed from the huntsman, easing the tension within you that was unraveling before you approached the tent. The last couple of nights you had been spending within the farmhouse, to keep a watchful eye over Beth as she was enduring afflictions of her mind’s darkest corner, and the fact that you understood the tauntingly horrifying thoughts that she was feeling.

Once, quite some time ago, you too had undergone the struggles of being alive, but now that you had realised that there was so much to live for, you were not going to end any suffering that put strain upon your chest just because there was an apocalypse occurring across the whole globe. No sir, and whilst you pondered over your and Beth’s shared difficulties, you suddenly became paranoid that Daryl too would be feeling encompassed by the hand of looming death. Merle was either dead, or off somewhere tending to his handless wrist, and that was a lot for anyone to take on, let alone a brother.

Not many people, especially those that you were currently occupying yourself with liked Merle, they labelled him as a pig, which he was with all consideration, and they presumed he would lead them all to their deaths, you however had gotten along with him just fine. But then again, you had known him before everything had gone to shit, same with Daryl of course, and with the younger of the two you had felt fooled that you could be more. When times weren’t like this, and in a state that would be addressed as ordinary, you’d both often lull in the presence of one another, and there may have been one or two drunken kisses. It had never gone further than that, you made sure; you couldn’t lose a dear friend over a alcohol induced actions, no matter if you still felt the desire to repeat them when sober.

Daryl meant a lot to you, he had always been a firm shoulder to lean on, and now it was your time to be there for him whilst he squandered by himself, and so you stalked with stealth towards him as you did when preying on animals in the woods together. You suspected that despite your footsteps paving no sound to the human ear that Daryl would still expect you to be luring outside, he was a brilliant tracker and you never underestimated his skill, and as predicted, with your shadow being cast across and through the waterproof fabric of the tent, the zip began to become open mouthed, it’s teeth being separated by the man inside.

You sprang a smile at the sight of him, after all you were his only friend out of all the people that you had arrived to the farm with, however he didn’t reciprocate the expression, instead his face looked sullen, exhaustion stroking through each of his gestures, as his eyes held dark bagged weights below his waterline. There was a dew highlighting his flesh, something you had only seen when he was… sick. “Whadd’ya wan’.” His voice was heard like uncut fingernails slicing down the landscape of a chalkboard, and it made you wince as you thought about how dry his throat must have been. If you had a kinder heart, or least the others suspected you weren’t so cold in retaliation to their judgements, you would have ran to fetch him a pale of water.

“To know that you’re okay.” You responded with honesty, he was the only other person that you could contend niceties with, the others didn’t truly understand either of you, they made their apprehensions and only allowed them to shift if either one of you performed in an agreeable manner. “Which clearly you’re not,” your observations became verbal, as you swayed absentmindedly on the grass where your footing remained, “and someone has to be there for you, none of those sorry suckers care enough. You’re all I have left from before, and I ain’t prepared to lose you just yet.” Ever would have been the preferred timespan, but you too didn’t have a tendency to flaunt your emotions.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere sunshine.” His gravelly tone dispersed with his statement as he began to violently cough, his shoulders shaking from the pressure that beckoned undesirably in his chest. He heaved as he came down from the breathless moment that had silenced his words, staring up at you with his oceanic gaze that cradled you without touch. “But you shoul’, ya probably got somewhere better to be rather than worryin’ ‘bout lil’ ol’ me.” His words were the farthest thing from your viewable truth, he was the only one that you felt comfortable around, you weren’t sure if it was because he was a part of your old life prior to the ravenous outbreak, or because you really weren’t a fan of the continuous drama that fledged around Rick, Shane and Lori, however either way you wanted to be here.

With him, that was. “I don’t.” And he knew that, he just resented admitting that there was somebody other than his brother in existence that cared about him. “Let me spend some time with you, and make sure that you’re really alright. If not for you, then for me.” It was his weakness, he could never deny you anything, he always had harboured a sweet spot for you, except from if he had to detain you from drinking another beer in some surly bar. “Please Daryl, I’ve had some time for myself, and I don’t want to be alone right now.” Daryl exhaled slowly, feeling the threatening rattle in his throat as he shifted aside, allowing you room to enter his private quarters, if you could call his shabby tent that.

It didn’t take you long before you slunk into the material walls, eyes casting around the layout that matched your own tent that you had almost forgotten about; except it was a mess, the sleeping bag was shrivelled up in a ball towards the corner, and his crossbow and its ammunition was slung across the ground. Daryl nervously clicked his tongue after enclosing the space by reassuming the zipper to its closed position, watching you with drained eyes. “I really am alrigh’ y’know.” He stated unconvincingly, sitting beside you as close as he could without the fear of you catching anything from him. It was just a summer cold, he told himself, it would soon pass and he would be back to his regular self.

“That’s completely debatable Dar.” You raised your eyebrows, passing him the water flask that had been one of the only things to keep him company, at least he had been staying hydrated, you thought, and felt content as he obeyed your silent order to take a few sips, not too much and not too little. There was no doubt from his grimace that it pained him to swallow the water, and you couldn’t help but have concern to become you. “Maybe you should lay down, and try and rest.” It was an observation, you could physically see how fragile his muscles felt. He would never say it aloud, but he felt weak at the knees, not just in this moment but in each one he spent with you.

It made his heart stutter with emotion to listen to your breathing, it was always calm around him, and it made him feel as though he had a chance with you. The last thing that he would ever want to do was to ruin your friendship, especially by speaking of his more-than-crush on you. He was almost positive that he was in love with you, and he held such certainty that his heart strings had been tugging with a craving for you before the walkers had risen to tear apart the world. “Tha’s exactly wha’ I was doin’ jus’ before yer wanted to babysit me.” A scoff fell from your lips as you lightly shoved him, and he crumbled dramatically from your touch, falling flat on his back.

“You okay?” You loomed above him, your locks cascading around your face as you fretted, and Daryl could only pull a dopey smile. He wanted to answer you, with all of his trauma induced heart; you were one of the only people that had ever roamed the earth whom had never speculated theories of his life - you knew him, and it was a dear experience. He wasn’t a no good red neck as Shane put him down and described him to be, he was a man that had survived, through terror and abuse, and was still doing so with different forces opposing him. The dead would rip his flesh from his bones, and feast without resistance on his body, but that was a far thought from what he was currently thinking.

There was no woman more beautiful than you, Daryl thought with an open mind, captivated by your beauty even during his sickness. He was engaged with eye contact with you, practically entranced, as the structured cough in his chest lowered to a dull tingle in the back of his throat, it was easy to ignore with you as his main focus. Well ignoring wasn’t the right phrase or term to it, you were a pleasant distraction in the moment, even as he chortled for breath whilst he attempted to hold in the spluttering that was induced by hell knows what he had caught.

“‘M fine.” He wheezed out, his face beginning to turn red as he held the symptom of his sickness in, stuttering as your hand drifted to his upper chest that was exposed by his grimly worn vest, drawing circles on his skin with your fingertips. “It’s okay.” You told him, brushing a lock of his hair that had slowly grown since his last haircut behind his ear. “Jus’ let it out Dar.” Despite your inclination to listen to the exhausted struggle that disputed from his lungs and compactly mucus filled chest, he felt comfortable enough with you to follow your words. He leant half over on his side, coughing on and on until it felt as though it was finally over. And your hand remained in its placement, being in contact with each pressuring hurdle his chest fought through.

“Feel a little better?” You hardly had to ask, the archer nodded stiffly, his hand drifting to rest over your own. “Do you want me to go? I know sometimes you like to be alone, and I don’t want to overstep on your personal space.” He almost signed you off of your duty of watching over him, he didn’t want to hold in his most sacred secret any longer. And if you stayed, well he was almost certain that he would inform you of the truth that he had hidden from you for so long. “Nah, you don’ gotta go nowhere.” He pulled you closer by your hand until your face was drifting over his own, and it took all of your resistance to not lean in. “Jus’ hope ya don’ mind gettin’ sick if you still wanna stick around.”

“Whatever you’ve got? You know how strong my immune system is Dixon.” You sharply spoke with a tenderness lining your tone, ogling at his runny eyes with the dearest of adoring gazes. So far you had been sufficiently lucky considering that you had not undergone any injury since the beginning of the outbreak, only the mental aspects had affected your perception. Each rotted walker that gnashed it’s grotesque teeth in your direction hadn’t caught your flesh between its jagged dentures, and you hoped it would remain as so. It was probably just luck, but through your lifetime you had survived enough flus and colds for another to shatter your instincts.

“Tha’s not wha’ I meant. Mean’ sick of me.” Daryl spoke with a lowered head, as though he had been ashamed to admit the truth in his train of thought. With your pointer finger you raised his face from hooking it beneath his chin, so that his eyes made contact with your own, the swelling of emotions that’s swirled in them pointedly driving you to lean in closer, despite the risk of getting sickened from the contagion that his body carried, greeting his lips with yours. It was a soft kiss, and one well worth the always lingering wait, and it made you realise that you were the only person in the world of existing death that Daryl wouldn’t push away. “I will never get sick of you Dixon. Never.”

[dreaisgrayte]

HEHHEHEHEHEH WHATS UP MY BBG? I hope you have had a good day/night! I have this idea in my head that I'm ITCHING to get out but you can feel free to ignore❤️

Can you do what would happen and what would Sanemi, Giyu, Tanjiro, and Obani do if reader got turned into a demon during a battle?

LIKE I SAID FEEL FREE TO IGNORE!! YOU DA GOAT BBG❤️

GEHEHE I'M DOING SO GREAT! 🫶🫶I HOPE YOU'RE DOING EVEN BETTER THOUGH 😡🥹 It was raining here all day and I was a worrisome parent and got soaked going to check on my kitties🥰🥰. (also why would I ignore such an angsty request MWAHAHA😈)

Includes: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyu Tomioka, Tanjiro Kamado, and Obanai Iguro CW: pretty much reader dies in all scenarios, but... yeah no my heart hurt writing these so there's no hope for any of us. Death, angst, sadness.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The demon’s claws slice through you, tearing your skin apart. You fall to the ground, crumpled and bleeding

“San-Sanemi,” You choke out, the life draining from your beautiful eyes.

A vengeful scream erupts from his throat, burning his very vocal cords as he rushes the creature

Its head falls to the ground with a gruesome thump, Sanemi dropping to his knees next to your corpse. “YN...I’m so-”

Your eyes, they’re open and your pupils pull into slits. His next breath catches in his throat. “Sorry,” He breathes, his eyes stinging with hot tears

He picks up his nichirin blade, using it to help him into a standing position. Sanemi’s choked sobs echo through the forest valley. The glint of fresh sunlight reflecting off of his blade as he plunges the tip into your heart. The sun is cresting over the mountains in a new dawn.

Your garbled noises nearly drive him to the brink of whisking you off to a shadowy haven, but you wouldn’t want to live out your life being the very thing you fought so hard against. 

As the ashen belongings of your body blow past him he feels like he’s just stabbed himself through the heart.

“Sorry…so sorry.” He cries, but the sunlight dries his tears. 

Giyu Tomioka

He was by your side one second then cornered off by a second demon. He wants to remain close to you and protect you, but as he lands the final blow to the demon in front of him he catches the tail end of the demon lifting you by your throat. 

His blood runs cool, the demon’s features twisting in a cruel sneer as it makes you lick up the blood from his wounds. 

Too late, too late, too late

Just like with Sabito, Giyu was too late to save you. His head spins, running through possibilities to somehow not fuck up again

Tanjiro and Nezeko were a special case, who’s to say Giyu would break through to you? And when he didn’t? Would his heart finally go numb? The risk was too great.

The demon has dropped you and ran off, leaving you panting on the ground. You touch your throat, hacking up the blood it tried to feed you. A glimmer of hope sprouts in Giyu’s chest. Maybe you had saved yourself? You meet his gaze, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Giyu,” you smile, the one he’d grown accustomed to seeing every morning when you greeted him. “Giyu, I need you to be strong,” you start, but he can’t hear you. He doesn’t want to.

“No, I’m not strong,” His voice is trembling. His body aches with the knowledge of what you’re about to request of him. He couldn’t do it. You meant too much to him and he was a selfish man. When everyone else ignores him you see through his suffering to the little boy underneath, scared of being seen for the fraud he was. 

There’s that smile again. “Giyu. You’re a Hashira, you’re more than strong – you’re kind. You know what you have to do. Please, before it’s too late.”

Giyu’s body feels limp as tears mix with his sweat. He was too weak to save Sabito, but he could still save you. He yells into the night, a pained scream that rustles the birds from their branches.

Your head thumps to the side, fanning into dust as he sinks to his knees, sobbing over your remains. Turns out – he wasn’t numb after all. 

Tanjiro Kamado

You’re bloody, a demon standing over you, it’s foul stench dripping round droplets onto your wound

“Let’s see if you have the heart to kill one of your own, slayer.”

Tanjiro had been through this before, with his younger sister Nezeko and things were turning out alright with her.

Would his bond be strong enough to snap you out of the demonic craze? You had acted like an older sibling to him, watching over his progress and always cheering him on. Often he thought the gods had blessed him with you so he would have someone to look after him when he had no one. 

“YN!” He screams, the demon slipping away into the night. “YN talk to me. If you can still talk that means there’s still time.” But the veins on your face bubble and contort your expression to one of hatred.

Tanjiro falls back on his hands, heart loudly echoing in his ear. “YN, please… it’s me…your little brother.” But it’s far too late to work on your once human heart. As you rise to your feet Tanjiro stumbles to his as well

His katana is shaking in his grip. You were a demon, but also his friend. He can’t see through his blurry vision. 

“Pathetic,” you spit, then before Tanjiro can will his heart to do what he knew he couldn’t, you spill into the shadows

His vow to cut the head from Muzan Kibutsuji’s body grew a thousandfold that night

Obanai Iguro

You had been on this mission for weeks now, fighting side by side. Obanai had grown fond of you.

That was until a demon stole you away, reminding him that fondness sprouted weaknesses. However, he tracks you down regardless.

The demon had set up in a cave, the dawn making this rescue mission easier, but as he steadily slides into the heart of the cave he finds you’ve been tied up, dried green blood on your lips

“Fuck,” Obanai hisses into the darkness, searching around for the creature that did this to you

“It’s gone Obanai…” You drawl, your voice raspy and strained. He winces at the state of you.

He rushes to untie you, hoping it’s not too late and the insect Hashira can work some miracle cure on you. If Obanai was fond of you he couldn’t even imagine how the corp members felt about you. 

It had been a while of your fighting off the urge to turn, there had to be hope for you. If only he could get you back to headquarters fast enough…

As if reading his mind you shake your head solemnly. “Please, let me see the sunrise one last time,” you croak, gaze drifting to the sunlight filtering in from the cave’s entrance. 

Obanai squeezes his eyes shut, the electric buzz of his heart making it hard to fulfill your request. He was stagnant, breath quickening as you pleaded with him.

He offers you his hand, willing his chest to return to steel. He leads you to the outside world and your grip tightens as you step into the sun. Obanai’s body aches with unrelenting sorrow. If only he’d kept a better eye on you.

Soon enough, a faint ‘thank you’ blows past him on the wind, and he rushes away from the spot, not willing to look at what he had so carelessly taken for granted. 

[crematedcow]

She couldn't simply surrender what had been the very essence of her life, the one thing that no one was supposed to have the power to take away from her. Her freedom? Nobody was acutally free. Her love? She could find a way to cope with it. Her child? A heart-wrenching sacrifice, but she could endure it. Yet, this vital part of her, this very core of her being – she would never allow anyone to snatch it away.

And that marked the tale of a parasite.

Of a Patron and Its Chains is a 18+ interactive fiction in a fantasy and steampunk setting inspired by the worlds of The Witcher Series and Fullmetal Alchemist. You are a seasoned hunter tasked with tracking and eliminating dangerous supernatural threats. However, your story takes a turn when you decide to become also a pactbearer.

In this realm where the intricate dance of magic and technology creates a canvas of possibilities, one could easily envision an idyllic existence.

The ability to traverse into other realities, though often at a steep cost, promised rapid advancement that could border on madness. Yet, amid these innovations and developments, lurking dangers remained ever-present. The very act of opening portals to other realms could inadvertently usher in creatures not meant for this world, seamlessly intertwining them with reality.

It was a world where the choice was to either be the hunter or the hunted, and most succumbed to the latter fate. However, your father instilled a different path in you. As a hunter of those creatures, he ensured you absorbed all the survival knowledge you needed before eventually got wrongfully accused and executed, a tragic turning point that reshaped your plans. Rather than simply following in his footsteps to become a hunter, you decided to become a pactbearer.

Summoning a Patron, a legend from diverse worlds and realities, your mission was to unite with fellow pactbearers. Together, you would confront an encroaching evil, all while seeking the fulfillment of a cherished wish granted by a god. Yet, even with the support of numerous companions and your trusted Patron, each victory over a monstrous foe revealed a looming threat waiting just beyond the horizon...

You are the hero... right?

This is an 18+ interactive fiction that is being written on Twine.

be a hunter that kills monsters or embroils into unwanted drama

fully customizable mc from appearance, pronouns and personality

several sidequests to develop your skills as a hunter (includes: Possession, Witches, Ancient Beasts and more)

a beastiarium with further information to every creature you meet on the way

the big world of Vestria & Co. with a lot of lore that you can all uncover - or not!

a cryptic voice inside your head that occasionally breaks the fourth wall

meet the other pactbearers and their patrons and decide what relationship you want to have with them

choose what animal-form your patron is going to have

a total of six companions (including your patron) who will be with you a majority of your journey

all of them are romancable, plus a hidden romance option for those who can be patient

lots of parental issues!

figure out the truth of your world, or fail to do so - there is no right or wrong

and a... cow?

CONTENT WARNINGS: depicitons of death, violence, mental illness, gore (in the territory of body horror), animal cruetly and death, abuse, pornographic content, strong language

More might follow

DEMO TBA

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 21000+

but nothing demo ready yet

The RO's include:

✸ Cú Chulainn (M/F)

In ancient tomes and tales, Chulainn stood as a formidable legend — an indomitable hero whose laughter echoed in the face of enemies and even death itself. They reveled in the thrill of combat, never yielding without a proper battle. Yet, such was the image you held dear until the moment you summoned them into your realm, making them your esteemed Patron. The being before you shattered the illusion you once cherished. No longer did they exude the vigor of a warrior; instead, bitterness clung to their spirit, entwined with a profound disdain for the world and all its inhabitants. Longing for the solace of death they once fervently evaded, Chulainn relinquished their ardor for combat, dismissing it as a hollow pursuit devoid of significance. As a consequence, their role as your Patron proved less than… helpful. Nevertheless, a flicker of optimism lingers within the depths of their desolate heart. Perhaps, against all odds, you possess the power to reignite the flames of purpose within them, offering a renewed sense of hope and the chance for a remarkable new beginning.

✸ Lysander/Lysandra (M/F)

Within the illustrious court of the High Queen, there exists a figure of great repute: Lys, a distinguished servant renowned for their unparalleled ability to fulfill any given task. Their name has become synonymous with perfectionism, as they consistently meet and surpass the lofty expectations placed upon them. The mere mention of their name evokes awe and respect throughout the courtly corridors. Alas, despite their esteemed standing, Lys remains a figure of divisive sentiment. Whispers and murmurs abound among their colleagues, swirling in a ceaseless cycle of gossip. Tales of their rigid and occasionally insolent demeanor dominate these conversations, yet there is another facet that elicits both awe and envy in equal measure. Lys possesses an unparalleled loyalty to the High Queen, a level of devotion that others find almost unattainable. Yet, the reality surpasses the worst of these rumors. Lys' nature transcends the bounds of mere unpleasantness, particularly in their interactions with you. Adding fuel to the fire, they perceive you as a sort of rival, amplifying the tensions between you. One can only wonder if it is merely a facade in an attempt to hide their weakness or the reality of their identity.

✸ Holographic Entity "Holly" (F)

Holly, the Patron of Lys, assumes the guise of a long-haired housecat, but her true essence hails as a revolutionary from a distant reality, a realm of unparalleled advancement far beyond the scope of Vestria. For Holly, her presence in this foreign world feels akin to embarking on an elaborate holiday excursion plucked from the very pages of historical books she once heard of. Her insatiable curiosity serves as the driving force behind her existence, propelling her to seek new experiences and infusing every interaction with a buoyant energy that suggests no challenge is insurmountable. Unafraid to vocalize her thoughts and opinions, Holly fearlessly shares her insights, even when they clash with those of her companion, Lys, particularly when the subject of her candid musings centers around you. Or at least, that is the impression you choose to hold. Her unabashed honesty may lead some to believe that she is a simple, unassuming creature. However, the more time spent with Holly reveals that there is much more to her than meets the eye. After all, one cannot lead a revolution based solely on a smile and an unfiltered mouth.

✸ Elli Agilulf (M)

The Blessed Ones, the esteemed right and left hand of the Night Church, are figures known to all who have ventured beyond the confines of ignorance. Cloaked in an aura of mystery, their veiled faces lend an air of both authority and enigma. Among their ranks is Elli, who strives to embody the idealized image of a Blessed One. He adheres to a code of silence, speaking only when necessary and responding with a detached aloofness. True to form, he carries himself with an air of subtle intimidation. However, beneath his carefully crafted facade, Elli is easily rattled by even the slightest inconvenience or a quick-witted remark, his frustration and anger palpable despite his hidden face. He is short-tempered and stubborn, a nature that clashes with the expectations of his position. As a Blessed One, he is expected to be a mindless automaton, devoid of thoughts or personal desires, but Elli's mind is a swirling vortex of thoughts and emotions, overflowing with complexity. Perhaps it is this contradiction, this clash between his true nature and the expectations placed upon him, that makes Elli an actual enigma. You do feel yourself challenged when he decides that you are a criminal to-become.

✸ Irydion (F)

Irydion holds a perspective that challenges the notion of victory being achieved simply through diplomatic agreements and signed papers. To her, a war is not truly won until she has exacted revenge to those she deems responsible for the suffering inflicted upon her country. As a member of the militia, she is fueled by a desire to fight, her hands trembling with the power of her magic, ready to unleash it upon her enemies on the frontline. While others may perceive an undisturbed silence on the battlefield as a sign of these so called peacetimes, Irydion remains vigilant, recognizing it as a deceptive tactic used by the enemy to lure her into dropping her guard. Too bad she is always a step ahead of those who seek to harm her people! Her selfless dedication to protecting and caring for her fellow countrymen is unwavering, even if it means being seen as misguided or paranoid by those who don't fully understand her. Irydion's allies may acknowledge her kind-hearted nature, but they also recognize her single-minded determination and unwavering belief in the necessity of fighting back against an enemy that is just a shadow. Irydion does not care for these rumors, knowing that regardless of how many may stand against her, they will eventually come to understand the truth of her cause. She remains steadfast, believing that time will prove her right in the end. After all, you believe her… right?

✸ "Junius" (M)

Even as Irydion's patron, the line between their roles blurs, with Junius' approach to her and other humans carrying an arrogantly nonchalant air. His actions, delivered with ease and naturalness, ridicule or charm one without noticing. With a mere lazy wink or a mockish bow, he effortlessly asserts a sense of superiority, deliberately refraining from putting genuine meaning or depth in his antics. Maintaining an elusive detachment, he keeps others at arm's length, preventing them from ever truly getting close to him. Despite his mysterious past, he carries himself as if the weight of secrets hold little significance to who he is. Junius' personality dances on the edge of daring, akin to playing with fire, drawing allure and enticement from the very act itself. He fearlessly indulges in flirting with married women and engaging in challenges with those of higher social standing, defying conventional norms and embracing a provocative existence. There lies a subtle irony in his guise — a wolf rather than a lion — his pride speaking for another form. And even in conversation, he adeptly maintains the facade, never allowing his act to waver, leaving you to question whether it is indeed a carefully crafted performance or indeed the reality of his character.

???

If it wasn't the work of gods, maybe it was fate that brought you together.

And several other characters you meet on your way across the country; other pactbearers and their patrons, tragic lovers, a noisy priest, ill-ridden villages (there is only two but it's weird it happened twice), two twin-rulers who don't seem to get along, a talking book, and more.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader • Hopper has been your dad’s best friend for years. He always thought you were a nice, if not slightly awkward, kid. But when you return home to Hawkins during a break from college, Hopper is immediately smitten with the young woman you’ve become. He indulges his infatuation with you in the only way he can. Hopper lets his mind run wild with a fantasy that’s become familiar to him, even though his feelings for you leave him racked with guilt. And maybe that’s where the story would end for Hopper, alone and burning up in a desire he would never be set free from… But when you came home to Hawkins, you brought with you a knowledge, a craft, that a practical man like Hopper would never give credence to, until it captures him wholly, body-mind-and spirit…

Quiet moments like this were the most difficult for Hopper. When he wasn’t physically kept busy with his job, he was mentally kept busy by his conscience. Guilt tended to creep up on him most acutely in the moments he should have been able to rest, especially the early hours of morning. While Hopper believed mornings should be spent with warm coffee and personal introspection, he found it impossible to practice what he preached.

In fact, Hopper’s hypocrisy extended to more than one area in his life. While the town of Hawkins assumed their Chief of Police was, for the most part, an upstanding and honorable man, he harbored an uncomfortable secret that burned in the back of his heart: Jim Hopper was in love with his best friend’s daughter…

If only you’d never come back to Hawkins, Hopper told himself, he wouldn’t be caught in this moral storm. If you’d stayed away at college, Hopper never would have given you a second thought, except for when your dad mentioned you. His only memory of you would have remained the one Hopper had always had, of you as a skinny, polite-but-awkward kid.

The current image of you in Hopper’s mind was vastly different. You were all grown up now, the clumsiness of your youth replaced with a woman’s elegance. A gentle, refined softness had replaced all your rough edges, the gangly limbs of your teen years now shaped into the graceful form of a young woman. A beautiful woman, Hopper realized, who had him completely wrapped around your finger…

The day began as a regular Monday morning for Hopper, complete with the weight of guilt on his conscience. He stared up at the ceiling from bed and had a cigarette, his free hand moving beneath the blanket covering him, lazily massaging his cock. Hopper had always taken care of his morning wood, usually as his first activity of every day. But what now darkened his behavior and made it feel wrong, was the fact that Hopper couldn’t touch himself without thinking of you…

He tried to imagine someone else…anyone else. Hopper’s usual mental reference for masturbation was Bo Derek, an actress he’d had a crush on for years. The recurring fantasy Hopper had entertained for so long now felt stale in comparison to his thoughts of you…You, with your pretty, bright eyes flashing wide up at Hopper, a blush blooming on your cheeks as you realize he’s standing in the doorway of your room…as you realize he’s been standing there, watching you undress, for minutes now. And you’re covering yourself with the first item of clothing you could grab, a thin t-shirt, clutching it over your breasts in an attempt to hide your nakedness...

…But the shirt’s fabric is too sheer to provide any true coverage, any real protection from Hopper’s penetrating, wolfish stare. He steps inside your room, closing the door behind him, and presses in the lock with his thumb…

In the privacy of his bed, Hopper’s hand moved with more direction beneath the sheet, his grip around his cock tensing. As usual, he’d give in to the temptation that plagued him daily: he was going to come to the fantasy of you.

In Hopper’s mind, there were no moral obstacles in his way, no societal expectations from anyone preventing him from having you. He could fuck your face, your tits, your cunt, your ass, and come anywhere on and in you that he pleased. No one was there to stop him in the safe enclosure of his fantasy. And Hopper allowed himself to indulge.

“…Chief?” your wide eyes darted over his face. “W-what are you doing here?”

Hopper’s hand left the doorknob, moving to his shirt collar. “I think you and I already know the answer to that question, (y/n),” he said, his voice low, husky. You took a step back as you watched Hopper loosen the first few buttons of his shirt, your grip on the fabric covering you faltering slightly.

“How long were you standing there?” you asked tentatively. “Watching me?”

Hopper smirked as he undid the last button on his shirt. “Long enough to know that everything I’ve imagined about your body is right,” he replied, moving closer. “You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n)…Has anyone ever told you that?”

Your eyes drifted over Hopper’s exposed chest and down his stomach, watching as he unbuckled his belt. You nodded confidently, feeling less embarrassed. “Plenty of guys have told me I’m beautiful,” you replied, your voice a little sharper than you intended. You allowed the t-shirt over your chest to slip a little further down, revealing your nipples. “I’m twenty-one years old, Chief Hopper. Of course I date.” You smirked back at him now. “Lots of guys have fucked me.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hopper chuckled to himself, pulling his belt from his jeans. “I’m sure they have. And all these guys-,” He emphasized the word. “-any of them actually make you come?”

Your cheeks heated again, going pink. “I…uh-,” you stammered, as Hopper tossed his belt to your bedroom floor. “Any of these boys...” His hand moved to his cock, palming the bulge tenting his jeans. “…Make you feel like a man could make you feel…?”

Your chest dipped, your breath quickening as Hopper closed the space between your bodies. “…Like I could make you feel?” he continued, his dark blue eyes probing yours. Hopper was standing right in front of you now, mere inches separating your bodies. His hands moved to cover yours, gently removing them (and the t-shirt) from your breasts.

Your lips parted in an expression of both surprise and desire. Hopper cupped your cheek warmly in his palm, gliding his fingertips lightly along your chin. Your eyes fell closed in blissful surrender as Hopper touched you, the last of your defenses evaporating…

Hopper groaned as he fisted his cock, the muscles in his stomach tense. He knew he needed to hurry his fantasy along, or risk arriving even later at the station than he usually did Monday mornings. Hopper had already overslept and still had to shower, shave, and grab something quick to eat before heading into the station. So in his mind, Hopper fast-forwarded a bit to the part of his fantasy he liked best…the part where you begged…

…Hopper’s cock punched deep, sloppy thrusts inside you, rocking your bed frame, knocking off several plushies as he split you in half. One of his hands was wrapped in your hair, pulling your head back, your lips parted in a moan of ecstasy as he fucked places inside you no other man had reached.

“Come on, honey,” Hopper murmured down at you, his voice thick with exertion. “Go ahead and let go; I’ve got you sweetheart, just let it go…”

You whimpered beneath him, bucking under the weight of Hopper’s body. “Chief-,” you started, but Hopper cut you off, his words punctuated by each thrust of his hips. “That’s not my name, honey,” he gently insisted. “Go on-say my name-I know you know it-.”

“-Jim,” you panted against his shoulder. “Jim please, please Jim, please come inside me-.”

Hopper’s cock twitched at your request, at hearing you whimper his name. His balls were tight, aching for relief. Hopper’s eyebrows met, his forehead creased as he strained to withhold his climax just a little longer…

“Say it again,” he growled beside your ear, but your reply was lost in a groan. “Hey!” Hopper said forcefully, taking hold of your chin and holding it firmly. Your lips parted, and he spat between them. “Say my name if you want my cum,” Hopper ordered. “Say-,” *thrust* “My-,” *thrust* “Name...”

You came undone beneath Hopper, his name spilling out from between your lips like a prayer as he spilled his release inside you…

Hopper’s cock pulsed in his fist, his stomach clenching as a thick, creamy load of cum gushed from his tip. He cursed as his semen made a mess all over the bed; Hopper would have to wash the sheets later, or else sleep in his own cum that night. He reached for a fresh cigarette and stared up at the ceiling while exhaling thin clouds of smoke in its direction.

Hopper wondered how much longer he could go on like this? His ability to resist fantasizing about you was virtually non existent. Eventually, he’d have to either figure out a way to let go of his lust for you, or tell you how he felt. And Hopper knew the second option really wasn’t an option at all. There’s no way in hell you’d actually be attracted to him, Hopper thought. He was the same age as your dad, and that alone had to be a major turn-off for you. The likelihood of you ever viewing him as anything besides a contemporary of your dad’s was slim to none. And the last thing Hopper wanted to be, for you, was a father figure…

He swung his legs over the bed, and forced himself to the shower. Hopper knew that revealing his sick secret would destroy his friendship with your dad. He didn’t want that. And maybe more than anything, Hopper didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He chuckled darkly to himself as he stood in the shower, letting the water run over him. A sweet, pretty young woman like you would never guess she was the subject of a perverted cop’s fantasies. Not with all the men who probably pursued you at college, men twenty years younger than Hopper. At best, you likely viewed him as a nice older man, someone you could trust just like you could trust your dad.

Hopper shook his head, gazing down at the shower drain. How wrong you were, he thought to himself. Because there was nothing about Hopper that was trustworthy, when it came to his true feelings for you. He was a hypocrite, a liar, and a convincing one. For now, he would go on spending time with your dad, at your home, pretending like everything was okay. And one day, when you returned to college, maybe Hopper would be free of your spell…

✨ one week earlier ✨

It was a peaceful Monday morning for you. Home from college on Summer break, waking up in your childhood bedroom filled you with a rush of nostalgia you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Sunlight feathered through your curtains and across your bed. You stretched your legs and arms, and let your thoughts drift to the evening before.

Jim Hopper had stopped by to visit your dad last night and watch a football game together. You hadn’t seen Hopper in over two years. To be honest, you’d forgotten about your old crush on the town’s chief of police, letting it fade to the back of your mind as college life became your main focus. Traveling away from home to the big city of Indianapolis, Indiana, was a life-changing experience. You’d never been that far from Hawkins before, and while a few familiar faces from home were there as well, it still felt like the small town you loved was a whole world away.

Over time, you’d forgotten about Chief Hopper and the silly little crush you’d had on him when you were younger. But when he showed up at your house last night, your feelings for him were…brand new. Now, you were an adult, and nothing about your previous crush was present in the feelings you had watching your dad’s friend enter your home. Viewing Hopper through the eyes of a woman, your perception of him was completely different.

You’d been with a man before, a man your age. It had only happened once, and it was terrible. You regretted losing your virginity to someone who obviously had no idea what he was doing, let alone what he was supposed to be doing to you. Part of you wondered what a man like Jim Hopper, a man with decades of experience fucking women, could do to you? The Chief’s love life had always been a popular topic of gossip around town. Rumor had it that Hopper was quite promiscuous, and had developed a reputation as a womanizer in his younger days. A man like that, who you just so happened to be insanely attracted to, could probably show you what sex was supposed to be like. What a real, rough fuck was like, the kind of fucking you fantasized about, the kind of thoughts you touched yourself to…

You sifted through the pages of a well-worn notebook. In its contents were various notes on divination, the phases of the moon, a record and analysis of your dreams, the magickal correspondences of crystals, colors, and more. But by far, the most important content in your notebook were the spells you’d written. Some had worked, some had failed, and there were some you had written but not yet used. One of these un-cast spells was the love spell you’d written. Admittedly, it was less of a love spell and more of a lust spell, but…regardless, you hadn’t yet found the right person to use as inspiration when the spell was cast. You’d never desired anyone enough to make an attempt at bending the Universe’s will to influence your love life, but…seeing Jim Hopper again had stirred something powerful inside you.

Gathering your supplies, you prepared yourself mentally and physically to carry out the spell. You opened your bedroom window and let the sun sink its fingers beneath your skin, absorbing its masculine energy. Performing the spell by moonlight would have been useful in securing a lover whose energy was feminine. But the object of your desire was absolutely dripping with a masculinity so potent, you didn’t think you’d ever been near a man who exuded such powerful masculine energy.

After completing the spell, you trusted that the only thing left to do was wait. You climbed back into the familiar warmth of your bed, feeling a bit sleepy, but with a thrumming ache between your thighs that just couldn’t be ignored. Slipping a hand beneath your panties, you imagined it was Jim Hopper’s hand instead. Believing in your personal power, you trusted that the Universe was working with you. It may take a week, or ten days, or fourteen; but you would have Jim Hopper. If he didn’t want you already, he would, and badly. He would soon be craving you, not just desiring you, but burning alive inside with the need to possess you. Closing your eyes, you began to rub soft circles over your clit, building the pressure until it broke in waves, and Jim Hopper’s name was spilling from your lips in panted, grateful whispers… ✨

PART TWO

[ariseur]

sephiroth felt your hands grip the sheets, stirring in your sleep as you tossed and turned. he blinked the remaining sleep left in his eyes, adjusting to the darkness of the room as he finally felt you jolt up.

a hand flew to cover your mouth in a weak attempt to hush your ragged breathing. it was like barbed wire coated your throat as you tried to keep your sobs in, a flow of hot tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

you knew he was awake, he always was a light sleeper. and with that knowledge, you draped your arm over his as he laid on his side— and you pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder, now bare in the comfort of his bed rather than being armor clad like usual.

he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his arm while you press soft kisses against his skin, your hushed hiccups breaking the silence of the room. every broken sigh you let out to try and regulate your breathing made sephiroth’s heart pain even more, a sharp pain in his chest as he resisted the urge to sit up.

your gaze fell on his face, mako eyes standing out against the darkness of your bedroom as they turned to look at you, silver hair framing his face. he said nothing, merely reaching his hands towards yours and interlacing your fingers in a gentle grip. you cherished the moments where you did not feel leather on his skin, but instead the softness of his own hands.

and when you reached for his face in the dark, free hand stained with tears and the guilt of your own sorrow, a wave washed over both of your bodies. it’s hard to accept love when all you’ve known is hate, but that’s okay. he eased into your touch the same way your voice lured him into your web of a loving embrace, taking him into your arms as you whispered promises and affections soon to be fulfilled. all the memories you two shared were half-yours, because in this life, it’s a loop. and a loop is a circle, meaning there are two halves. half of this love came from you, too.

and that made sephiroth tear up a bit, knowing you just want to help people even as you’re crying yourself. in the morning he won’t ask you why you cried, he won’t ask about the nightmares you had and the terrible things you’ve faced on your lonesome. instead, he’ll wrap you into his arms the same way you did for him, and he’ll hold you for as long as you need. you’re okay with that, you thought, as your shoulders heaved with sobs that had yet to hit your ears, only focusing on your sephiroth’s heartbeat while you rested on his chest, reveling in the feeling of the familiar calloused hand that came to rest upon the back of your head.

[hwnglx]

bts on cam vs. off cam

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

jin

on cam

basically the moodmaker. he ties a lot of himself to that role; loves making people laugh. feels proud when a joke lands. very entertaining, charismatic, fun to watch. brings more energy into the group dynamic. has a strong and clear will, goal oriented, a lot of determination and drive. active. very chatty and witty, good comedic timing. he just lights up the room.

off cam

much more sensitive and emotionally intelligent than what meets the eye. deep and kind heart. also great at observing his surroundings, he's very intuitive and in tune with his environment. he has a quick mind. great deal of empathy and compassion for the people he holds dear. sweet nurturer. makes them feel comfortable. mentally active. seems to talk a lot behind the scenes too lol, but in a more tactful and sharp manner; great at communicating. can be both; emotional or logical, depending on what the situation asks for. adaptable.

suga

on cam

restrains himself more. much more careful and conscious over what he displays; a great case of show the best, hide the rest. i keep sensing his virgo moon here, he just wants to manage his image closely and make sure it remains clean. does allow himself to break out of that shell sometimes, and lets out his more playful and fiery side. very free-thinking, independent. just wants to do his own thing. much brighter and higher spirits on cam than off cam.

off cam

stubborn and self-focused. finance-oriented; stable and good at dealing with that part of his life. puts a lot of importance and value into material matters. can have some gluttonous tendencies, where he just gets insatiable; ariana grande's seven rings “i want it i got it.” vibe. increeedibly ambitious. if he sets his mind to something, it is going to happen. logical and rational. also extremely intelligent and smart. good luck trying to outsmart yoongi. doesn't bother to sugarcoat his words, very direct and honest in his expression. prefers and values the harsh truth, head over heart.

j-hope

on cam

masculine, passionate and strong, just has this quietly powerful and authoritative presence that demands attention. but at the same time gentle, balanced; a pleasant and agreeable aura. presents himself as this continuous student, someone who's very eager to expand his knowledge and skills in his career. consistent, stable, humble and self-aware. good at dealing with criticism. someone you just enjoy being around, he creates emotional connections with ease and makes everyone feel comfortable. big heart.

off cam

very focused on his group. like he loves these boys dearly. much more in tune with his feminine side; a soft, empathetic and nurturing soul. might be the hidden mother of the group lol. in tune with his emotions. doesn't shy away from expressing his feelings. so much more romantic and dreamy too. i feel like he cries a lot behind the scenes, especially about sappy and little sentimental things. very charming and idealistic. but also immensely hard-working. type to put in even more effort when no one's looking.

namjoon

on cam

confident and inspiring. so so much passion. brings a sense of warmth to his surroundings, and has an encouraging and uplifting effect on the people he's with. carries a lot of wisdom with him, so much good advice to give. knowledgable and mature for his age. like an old soul. very introspective, deeply reflects on his actions and his behavior. good at bonding with people and offering this sense of comfort, support and emotional understanding. loves in a profound way.

off cam

solid and stable. level-headed. a lot of focus on tangible achievements and practicality. “let's get this work done”. much more self-sacrificial than one would think. not as stubborn as it might appear, quite adaptable and open to opinions different to him. however, rub this man the wrong way somehow, he can get incredibly rigid pretty quickly. “cut the bullshit, deadass.” is what i heard, lmao. he doesn't like people who are too blinded by their emotions, and too delusional all the time; he can't deal with emotional immaturity. very fact-based and rational in that sense.

taehyung

on cam

a lot of contentment and abundance in the way he presents himself. like he just gives off this expensive aura, and seems pretty satisfied with himself. kinda snug and prideful. knows what he is and what he can do for people, and radiates that self-assurance and confidence to the outside. i can tell it just makes him very attractive to people. mature, in control of his emotions. calm and collected. he just looks like he knows what he's doing all the time. very complex too, someone who just adds depth and flavour to everything he does.

off cam

talks and speaks up much more. very clever and quick-witted. mentally agile and savvy. observant and detail-oriented. isn't afraid to stand his ground and voice his opinion when he needs to. he makes things look very easy and effortless, but in reality, he puts a lot of effort and hard work into all of his endeavours. responsible. can get burdened and overwhelmed more than you think. impatient tendencies. can get scared of change, but also doesn't wanna stay stuck; can have problems balancing out these two clashing sides in him. i always feel how being a capricorn stellium with an impulsive and rash aries moon must be quite exhausting sometimes.

jimin

on cam

balanced and gentle aura. sweet and diplomatic. someone who encourages a peaceful and harmonious environment. very much a libra. he has huge duality, where he can go from this happy go-lucky and bright smiled sunshine, to a dark and sensual devil (card that come out) that just gazes holes into your soul. i think he bases a lot of his image on his performances, i keep seeing him on stage in my minds eye. loves letting out and transitioning into his scorpionic (his venus+mars placement), sexy and mysterious energy whenever he's on stage. almost like he plays a role and fools people. loves to stand out among the crowd. can get very competitive and greedy too, in terms of his performances. (the energy was crazy intense here?)

off cam

much more laidback. outgoing and sociable, enjoys meeting up and going to parties. good at making friends and networking. more comfortable and slow-moving. more pragmatic than one would think as well. not nearly as soft and sensitive. can be more confident and self-assured than what meets the eye. but can get emotional out of nowhere though, kinda unpredictable with his feelings. his energy is just very fickle, but at the same time intense. he's either completely loyal to you, sticks by you through everything, or doesn't give two cents about you, honestly lmaooo :')

jungkook

on cam

humble, an eternal student. always trying to improve, expand his horizon. more youthful and bright in spirit. extremely driven and determined; if jk sets his mind to something, no one can hold him back from getting it. very much obsessive in that way. holds a lot of love in his heart, is gentle and careful in the way he treats people. there's some femininity here too. he might have this more sensual image in people's eyes. people enjoy his company because it's very calm and chill, drama free. mostly quiet and reserved. doesn't insert himself into any conflict intentionally and stays out of it.

off cam

surprise surprise - hugely perfectionistic. even obsesses over managing his image behind the scenes. very eager to keep it as flawless as possible. i heard “a dream to work with” though. someone who loves to collaborate, enjoys learning from other people. very committed and dedicated to quality at his work. always focused on doing the right thing; well-established manners and strong morals. likes connecting to people on an emotional level; moreso needs it. more sensitive than one would expect. can also get immensely greedy sometimes; this is where i see his dilemma. he's always yearning to reach the highest level work-wise; but can easily feel dissatisfied and unfulfilled. he doesn't enjoy fame, but at the same time can't do without it. i heard “the only thing i'm good at” jk is the type to think he's not good at something if he isn't at level 10 right away. he's always looking to do more and more; very prone to burning himself out badly because of his extreme ambition.

note; mister jeon always has so much to say, phew.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 1

Part (1) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Back to some good, ol' whump here. Minor ptsd, blood, broken nose, needles, profanity

WC: 3,183

“Damn it, get down!!”

“I am! Any lower and I'll need a kriffing shovel!” I snapped back, tempted to mute him just to hear myself think.

“I’ve got eyes on her, Cross; just focus on finding us a way in!” Even Echo's voice held the faintest rush of unease.

We'd known this wouldn't be easy. They'd caught someone – some big-name politician I hadn't made much effort to remember, but the Republic deemed them important enough to send us behind enemy lines to get them back.

The Marauder lay hidden nearly a dozen klicks away, nestled amidst brambles and fallen logs until even I struggled to notice it. We’d stolen a pair of Separatist transports to approach the black ops site without raising much suspicion and split up to search the compound faster. Tech and Wrecker infiltrated the northern side, Echo and I came in from the south, and Hunter was on his own along the crumbling remains of the eastern wall with Crosshair posted in the nearby tree line. He’d violently opposed my going in, but we had no means of knowing what kind of state our target would be in when we found them.

The politician was the least of my concerns, though. I’d been on edge since entering those transports. The ping of the metal walkways against our boots, the hum of the engine, even the color of the walls… it was just too similar. But were weren't on Agamar, and I hated how softly the others were stepping around me. I hated even more the undeniable knowledge that I needed them to.

That tension hadn’t lessened as we reached the Separatist black site. It looked abandoned; scarce buildings in such a perfect state of intentional disarray as to almost promise nothing but ancient debris and decades of dust lay within, but Tech's scans confirmed massive power fluctuations underground. It wasn't a huge compound, but it didn't need to be. Barely a half dozen structures remained standing, skeletal framework partially hidden by an overgrowth we now used to our own advantage as we crawled through the dense brush, thorns somehow numerous enough and sharp enough to occasionally find purchase in the slim crescents of skin left unprotected between sections of armor.

Echo and I had just finished sweeping through the second building in search of an entrance to the lower level when the site’s defenses suddenly roared to life. Numerous turrets burst from the soil that, mere seconds prior has shown no trace of anything beyond untouched wilds, and we’d just managed to hide behind a partially caved-in room before being noticed.

I could hear dozens of gears whirring to life just beyond our dilapidated shelter, the harsh crunch of leaves and branches breaking beneath heavy, metallic feet. Droids were flooding the site. We were pinned down by the turrets. And Hunter wasn’t answering his com.

“Can we make it to the next structure?” Echo asked, voice forced into a whisper.

“Not yet.” There was a long moment of silence, and I could feel myself tensing more with each passing second, legs coiled beneath me. “Now!” We were moving before the hushed order fell silent, both crouched so low that we were practically crawling, one hand occasionally darting to the ground in a gate more natural to some forest dwelling beast, but our awkward appearance didn't matter. The half dozen droids mere meters to our right posed little threat in and of themselves, but revealing our presence now might cause untold numbers to swarm. If they had Hunter, our only hope to free him was to keep ourselves hidden.

My legs burned from the effort of keeping up with Echo. He moved as though he’d been born for such things, body stalking preternaturally through tall grass and biting bramble effortlessly, but I still found myself watching him, worried I'd note some hint of a falter in his stride, but whatever strain the motion surely wrought upon his residual limbs was a torture to which he was far too accustomed to show amidst the threat lingering over us.

“Down!” We dropped harshly to the ground, and my every instinct balked at the helpless position. Mere seconds passed before the almost musical chorus of shifting counterweights and metallic limbs raced through the foliage just feet ahead of us. Droidekas. The nervous tension dancing beneath my skin turned to dread in an instant, ice bursting through my chest in a rush of panic. I didn't want to notice the way Echo glanced back toward me, the depth of concern that tiny movement conveyed. The droid presence was no longer a simple annoyance. We were in danger.

Was Crosshair switching between com channels to warn Tech and Wrecker lest their chatter create a lethal distraction? Were they balancing the risk of striking first versus continuing what felt like a doomed plight to remain unnoticed? My lungs ached from the effort of controlling each breath, body eager to fall into the too tempting frenzy of fear.

Echo’s hand flared out, signaling me to move around his left flank before readying his pistol, attention trained toward the sound of machinery falling into formation. I knew at least fifteen meters still lay between us and the next building; knew that he was purposefully placing himself between me and the enemy units; that, even among this squad of elites, Echo was the most capable soldier I could hope to have guarding my back, but, still, I had to grind my teeth against useless objections, abhorred at the very thought of letting him act either as distraction or delay if we were seen.

That fear surged anew at every shuffle of leaves and snap of twigs as I crawled forward, stealing one final glance just as I passed him. He couldn’t see the plea in my eyes, the order begging to scream from lips carefully trapped between ground teeth that he not put himself in danger, but he didn’t have to. With the smallest movement, he looked toward me in kind and offered the faintest nod, and that tiny gesture was enough to push me on.

He waited until several feet separated us before he started after me, and something about that, about knowing he was following just behind me granted me a confidence I had no right feeling, determination numbing me to the burn in my arms as I hauled myself through an undergrowth that showed no sign of the wear it ought to have from the abuse of concealing a Separatist base.

When the ridge of a tattered roof finally jutted above the line of greenery, I couldn’t restrain the deep sigh of relief, but I had to remind myself that any façade of safety feigned by the crumbling walls granted only a fool’s comfort and forced myself to pause just shy of the entrance. Echo didn’t stop until he was nearly flush against my side, and we both waited with bated breath.

“Tech and Wrecker found an entrance. If you don’t find one in there, stay hidden until they report back.” Crosshair’s voice fell into a carefully detached hum. I wanted to respond, to offer some reassurance, but we couldn’t risk even that, so I merely watched in silence as Echo took point once more, waiting for his signal before following him into the derelict structure.

Once, it stood a couple stories high, brick walls more akin to a school than a prison, but there was no sign of such possibilities within any longer. Nature had reclaimed the half-dozen rooms and interconnecting hallways long ago. Ferns draped through shattered windows, and mounds of dirt collected in the corners reached halfway to the ceilings. There was no broken furniture nor remnants of belongings hidden amidst the rubble, and I found myself wondering if it had ever been anything more than this. Had the Separatists built it solely to be abandoned; its fate preordained to ruin from the start purely to act as camouflage for what horrors lay below? I wanted to hate them for it but knew it was fueled by naivety; knew that far more had been wasted for less in this war on both sides and that even more would be lost before there would be any hope of armistice.

Only after Echo stood did I move to regain my footing as well, body still hunched forward in that instinctive drive to hide as we searched each room in turn. When he paused in what must have been the central chamber, attention trained in the corner just to the right of the doorway, I stepped back toward the hall, carefully watching for any signs of encroaching danger, my own pistols at the ready.

“We’re heading in.” Echo stated seconds before the hiss of an airlock screamed through the tense silence.

“Copy.” Crosshair replied shortly. He hated this. I knew he hated this: being forced to wait behind as we tread beyond his sight, beyond his reach should something go wrong, and my heart ached knowing there was no comfort I could offer as I turned to follow his brother down the narrow porthole into what was surely a maze of identical passages designed to be inescapable.

No veneer of color was granted to bare metal walls and exposed purlins overhead, and what few lights flickered within granted only fleeting glimpses of the lifeless passageways. This place was not created for comfort. Every detail was made through cruel intent to rob those trapped here of even the thought of warmth, and I couldn’t force the memory of that filth-stained cell from my mind; the scent of stale moisture and blood and rot.

My stride must have faltered; my pace slowed or breath hitched. Something drew Echo’s attention back to me, and shame sank into my gut like something rancid and squirming, and I couldn’t find the strength to push it back in time to dismiss it entirely.

“You alright?” He whispered it, body leaning carefully over mine as though he could hide me from the nightmare surrounding us, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to answer him directly.

“Let’s just get Hunter and the damn politician, and get out of here.” I nearly growled. He hesitated a moment longer, and I wanted to yell; to shout that there wasn’t time for this, to berate myself for causing even this short delay, shoulders pulling back with a determination fueled by the rage I felt toward myself for my weakness. He drew a slow breath before wrenching his focus back toward the long hallway, and a shaky sigh of relief escaped me.

I wouldn’t have noticed the port had Echo not stopped suddenly beside it, needing only to shoot a quick look for me to take watch as he plugged himself in. There was no cover here, nowhere we could hide if a patrol came upon us, and each second we lingered stoked the anxious certainty that we were moments from being found, but I didn’t waver, attention shifting between the direction we’d come from and the path ahead.

“Tech, Wrecker; looks like the target’s in the far west corner. Are you guys near there?”

“We are.” Tech responded quickly. “Have you located Hunter?”

“No, but we’ll head east and see what we can find.” My heart dropped at Echo’s response, and I fought to convince myself that that didn’t mean they didn’t have him; that didn’t mean he was…

Echo disconnected from the port, and I forced myself back to attention. He didn’t say anything more before continuing forward at a quick trot, weapon held loosely before him. Our footsteps boomed around us, mocking our every attempt at quiet. We slowed at every intersection, carefully searching down each hall before crossing. It was a perfect grid, an even number of paces separating each corner for what felt like eternity.

I heard it first. It was wet. An occasional crunch of metal against meat. I knew that sound. I knew the heat of abused flesh swelling beneath the assault; knew they would kill him long before he talked.

My hand was reaching for him before consciously acknowledging the movement; a quick tap on Echo’s shoulder singling him to stop. He needed only to pause before he heard it, too, and I watched his body tense as he reached the same conclusion I had, breath quickening beneath a flare of rage and dread. Without a word, we took off toward the wretched sound. There was a rhythm to it. Two strikes and a pause. Two strikes. Pause. I couldn’t hear what they asked in those fleeting seconds between, but my mind wouldn’t let it remain quiet long enough to wonder.

Who ordered the hit?

I swallowed back the bile that tasted too akin to rancid water.

We barely slowed at crossings now, nearly sprinting through the underground base.

Who placed the bombs?

Two strikes. I could hear him cough in the brief silence that followed, heard the splatter of liquid against metal and knew it was blood.

Echo looked over his shoulder to catch my gaze, to make sure I was ready, before tearing through the door. An alarm blared. The lights flashed a deep red that paled beneath the blue of our blaster fire filling the small cell. His armor was gone, blacks torn where they’d snagged on metal fists. I didn’t count them, nor did I need my overlay’s targeting system as Echo and I stormed the room, both strafing the enemy units in a frenzied rush.

I vaguely noticed the lethal elegance of the man beside me as he dove between a pair of B2s, rolling to his feet behind them, pistol already raised and firing before he’d come to a stop. I ducked to the side just as another droid raised its arm, the wall behind me hissing as metal melted beneath the powerful, crimson shots. It didn’t get the chance to fire again, and I watched with eager satisfaction as the towering machine fell heavily to the floor.

It took mere seconds. I didn’t have time to find a new target before Echo felled the few remaining enemies, sparing only a fleeting thought toward a figure among the metal corpses that was far too soft to belong among the droids, nor did I pause to wonder if it had been my shot or Echo’s that claimed their life. Whoever they were, I was too happy to leave them to rot among the destruction they sowed, attention training instead on Hunter.

Already, Echo was working to sever the bounds securing his wrists to the metal slab behind him, and I rushed forward to catch him as his first arm fell free, wincing at the stifled groan my touch drew from him.

“T… took yuh… long ‘nough.” He slurred, jaw barely moving around the strained words.

“Not our fault you let yourself get caught at a kriffing black site.” Echo retorted, already working on his other wrist.

“S… st’nned m…” His reply broke into an agonizing flurry of coughs, thick drops of crimson smearing across my chest plate.

“Alright, enough – you can make all the excuses you want after I patch you up,” I interrupted, a gentle warning in my hushed voice, “For now, just try to slow your breathing and stay awake, alright?” His head shifted toward me in silent consent, and my worry spiked. He was barely recognizable from the sickeningly wrong angle of his nose, and already his eyes were nearly swollen shut. His ribs were far worse off, however. I could see the heavy bruising through tears in his shirt, could hear the rattle in his every hitched, shallow breath.

“I presume the alarm indicates that you’ve found Hunter?” Tech asked just as the other shackle clicked open. Hunter fell against me with a choked grunt, and I tried not to imagine the pain shooting through his torso.

“Easy; just sit back.” I murmured softly, carefully guiding him to the ground.

“Yeah. He’s hurt, but Doc’s with him.” Echo responded, already treading back toward the door to watch for incoming troops. He paused briefly at the figure lying amongst the droids, but I didn’t see what he did, attention devoted to helping the wheezing man before me.

“Hunter, I want you to focus on me for a bit, okay?” My voice left in a whisper void of the urgency with which I dug through my bag. He hummed some manner of a reply, but I couldn’t make out anything akin to actual speech.

“We located the prisoner, but… it seems we were only given a portion of the information regarding this mission.” I had to stifle a surge of frustration that I could hear mirrored in Tech’s clipped statement as my scanner buzzed to life.

“Great.” Echo groaned.

“We’ll rendezvous at the Marauder and discuss how to proceed. Crosshair, is-” He was interrupted by a violent shockwave tearing through the base.

“That… wasn’t me.” Wrecker said hesitantly after a moment of tense silence.

“All clear.” I nearly scoffed at the haughty pride in Crosshair’s voice before returning my attention to the scan results, stomach twisting as I read over his injuries.

“Looks like you’re gonna live, Sarg.” I managed to tease softly despite my own dread, earning a groan heavy with mock disappointment. “You’re going to be pissing blood for a week, though.” He let out an even less thrilled grunt that drew a quiet chuckle from me. “How about I get some pain killers in you, and you let me help you back to the ship?” His eyelids shifted but weren’t able to fully open. Still, he offered no objection when I laid an autoinjector against his neck, and my worry grew at how quickly his body went limp.

“How is he?” Echo asked, voice tense as he walked back toward us. My gaze caught on a sack thrown over his shoulder. “His armor.” He explained, much to my relief. They hadn’t had him long, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that they wouldn’t have had time to dispose of it, but it was still a stroke of luck that he was able to find it so easily.

“He’ll be alright… but we should hurry.” Even through our opaque visors, I knew he felt the intensity with which I held his gaze, that he understood the truth behind my carefully even reply. He gave a small nod and dropped to a knee at Hunter’s other side.

“Hey, brother, think you can hold on to me?” My lips pulled into a small smile at the gentleness of Echo’s deep voice, the care in his movements as he eased Hunter’s arm over his shoulders. I threw my bag back on and followed suit with his other arm.

“Mmm… m’alri’.” His dismissal faded into a barely audible mumble as we pulled him upright, head slumping toward his chest.

“Those drugs won’t last long.” I warned quietly. Again, Echo responded with a short nod, and, together, we began the lock trek back toward an exit I doubted I’d ever find without him.

Next Chapter

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[miffmuff]

Rob and Gumball's relationship is so funny Rob is genuinely going through a Truman Show-esque nightmare and Gumball just thinks he's larping the whole time. Like Darwin and Gumball even try to be his minions at one point and Gumball gets genuinely horrified and confused when rob actually tries to hurt him. They just think he's just role-playing for fun while he's going through the horrors I'm sickkkk.

THE TRUMAN SHOW MENTIONED!!!

Yeah when Gumball and Darwin suggest being a villain it was for shits and giggles, I don't think they fully grasped that they're giving this depressed amnesiac kid who was desperate enough to live in their basement and has no purpose in life, a "purpose" to fill. And he'll take anything he can get.

Although I don't blame them for thinking it's just harmless roleplay. I mean, Rob gave zero context for his backstory in the nobody. Yeah it makes sense to us cuz we see a flashback, but all he says outloud is "I was one of the worlds mistakes, but you only cared about Molly. You saved her and left me there to rot, but I clung to life" like they don't have knowledge of the void, or saving Molly, what does that even mean. They probably think he's just really good at back stories on the spot.

I do feel bad for Rob, mf just found out their worlds existence is made to entertain some audience, and he's a background character in it. And although it's wrong to pin all of that on the main character aka Gumball I get where he's coming from. Like this world that's wronged you so much is centered around this one guy, and it trashed you because that guy found you kinda forgettable. It really does matter what other people think of you in this universe.

Rob's got all this existential dread and to top it all off he has to deal with it alone. Which is a bit upsetting, also considering he's only 13. He doesn't have much of a support system, villainy is kinda all he has going for him. Without it there's no reason to be in the show aka exist. Going off that interaction in "The Pony", Pre void Rob seems like a nice guy, he's extraverted and friendly. And now he's been shoved into a box labeled evil and has to act on that or else bad things might happen.

My hc is that he won't actually be sent into the void again if he didn't act villainous or whatever he'd just kinda exist off screen. Cuz Molly wasn't sent back and she still remained the same. But it's the fear that he might that drives him, also it's his only purpose in life soo what are you gonna do.

Gumball on the other hand is like hell yeah I have a nemesis this is so awesome!!! It's like being frenemies, like nooo please don't try to kill me but also I'm free next Saturday wanna try again then?

In the disaster is when he realized just how deep Rob's hatred for him ran. Like yeesh dude don't you think getting someones parents divorced and breaking up their relationship is a bit harsh.

But then he forgets it all so we're back to square one.

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Unbound

Part 7 - Putting on a Brave Face

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 6.2k

Warnings - general angst/anxiety, light swearing, canon typical fighting, memory loss.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Celeste stared pointedly at Nesta. The breakfast tray that Elain had just brought up was laying over her outstretched legs in the bed. The taste of the bile from last night still lingered even after brushing her teeth. Her stomach gave a needy rumble and Celeste knew she should eat something. 

“Celeste, honey. I’m so, so sorry.” Nesta started from her position in the chair at the bedside. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I promise. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon after waking up. You were so terrified and we didn’t want to scare you even more.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Celeste asked with a narrowed glare, the piece of toast she had been nibbling now abandoned. Nesta sounded genuinely upset at the thought of hurting Celeste by withholding information but she couldn’t let go of that nagging suspicion. 

“Well, all of us. Everyone who cares about you.” Nesta dropped her gaze from Celeste’s face and started down and her hands in her lap. “This is all new to us too, you know. We were just trying to do what we thought was best.”

Celeste tried to hide the annoyance from her face. 

New to them? They aren’t the ones who woke up with no knowledge of their life.

Another look at Nesta and she calmed her flare of anger. It was obvious she was trying to be a good friend here and there was genuine worry written across her face. She had been nothing but kind to Celeste since she woke up.

“Is there a reason that knowing Azriel is my husband should scare me?” She asked.

Nesta’s chin shot up to look at Celeste once more. “What?”

“You said that you didn’t want to scare me more. Is there a reason I should be afraid of him?”

“No. No, of course not.” Nesta’s countenance softened, her mouth quirking at the corner. “But you did wake up thinking that he and Cassian were guards here to haul you off. I didn’t think  breaking the news that one of them was your husband would go over very well.”

The explanation sounded perfectly logical. Celeste was sure that she would have indeed taken it badly finding that out so soon after waking up. She didn’t exactly take it well when she found out last night either. 

“We weren’t trying to actively keep you from knowing.” Nesta continued when Celeste remained quiet. “I just hadn’t exactly discussed with Az how to go about doing it yet.”

“Do you need his permission to tell me things?” That ugly suspicion rose up again full force.

This time Nesta scoffed. “I don’t need his permission to do anything,” she said seriously. “His or anyone else's. And neither do you.”

Reaching over the bedspread to grasp Celeste’s hand she carried on. “I know why you are thinking the things you are, Celeste, but it’s not like that here. That isn’t your life any longer. You are safe here. Safe and loved and free to do whatever you want. No one is going to punish you for anything you do, I promise.”

“What do you know of my life before?” There was no malice in her question.

“Enough. You’ve told me a lot of it, but I’m sure there are things you haven’t told me. And that’s ok. It’s your story to tell. But I know how you were treated and the punishments that were inflicted upon you. Those things will never happen here. Not to you or me or anyone else. I wouldn’t stand for it.”

Celeste briefly thought about how easy it was for Nesta to say that. It was easy to say you wouldn’t tolerate something until it was happening to you. Until you had no choice and no way out. She knew first hand that a person would tolerate a lot of things they disagreed with if it meant staying alive. 

The room remained quiet as Celeste continued to pick at her food. Nesta didn’t push or prod any further. 

“Is he kind?” Celeste’s voice broke the silence. “You said Cassian was like a giant puppy in battle leathers. Is Azriel like that too?”

Nesta’s laugh rang through the room as she threw her head back. “No, I wouldn’t say the same thing about Az,” she gathered her breath again. “Cassian likes to joke around. He teases and pokes and tries to make people laugh. And drives me crazy most days. But Azriel is different. He’s the quiet one. Stoic. He had a rough start in life and he can be very hard to read until you know him and even then it’s not easy.”

Nesta paused as she gave Celeste’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But he is kind. He is one of the kindest males I have ever met. He has always been one to do anything to protect those that he loves.”

Celeste studied Nesta’s eyes as she relayed her answer. Her gray eyes were clear and genuine. She could tell that she believed wholeheartedly everything she was saying, but that didn’t stop that wiggle of doubt from creeping in. 

“He would do anything for you, Celeste. He loves you, truly.” Nesta’s eyes never broke contact.

Instead of the wiggle of doubt, Celeste felt a sensation she wasn’t familiar with. It was small and not insistent enough to latch on to. Just a quick flashing flicker in the middle of her gut. 

“I’m sick of this bed.” Celeste changed the subject. “I want to get up. I feel fine.”

After dressing in another pair of those impossibly soft pants and a shirt that was definitely hers this time, Nesta led her out of the bedroom into the hall. As they began making their way towards the stairs she pointed out the library Celeste had discovered last night. 

“We usually hang out in here. We could sit and read if you want.”

Celeste surveyed the room from the doorway where they stood but her attention was focused on the door just a few feet away. The entrance to the office was closed fully this time and the murmur of voices could be heard behind it. 

“Or we could sit outside.” Nesta continued when she didn’t answer. “Some fresh air maybe?”

Celeste tore her focus back to the woman next to her. “Yes, fresh air. I think I’d like that.”

They made their way down the stairs and headed for the front door. Before they could cross the entirety of the entryway a boisterous voice rang out behind them. 

“Nes,” Cassian called as he trundled down the stairs. “I’m heading out after lunch. I have to meet Rhys. Do you want me to carry you home or are you staying here?” He turned to Celeste. “Good to see you up and about. Feeling better?” A wide unfeigned smile spread across his face.

Nesta watched Celeste as she just nodded at his question with a downcast look. “No, I think I’ll stay. But carry some food with you to Feyre would you. Elain cooked enough to feed an army.”

“Or for the General Commander of an army at least.” Cassian smiled at his own joke but it fell flat on his audience.

Celeste wasn’t listening, as she had raised her gaze, she spotted another figure still making his way down the stairs. Azriel, reaching the entryway floor, didn’t approach their small gathering but instead left a wide berth as he sidled past them toward the back hallway. His eyes locked solely on Celeste.

Her heart began to pick up rapidly as the thought of stumbling upon him last night sprang forth and her body jolted into action, taking an involuntary step backwards. His eyes still hadn’t left hers, his brows furrowed inward as he flinched at her movement. 

“Are you going with Cas?” Nesta asked after him. 

“No.” he replied meekly, turning away from them.

Celeste followed his movements as he retreated, Nesta’s earlier words ringing through her mind.

Stoic.

Kind.

He loves you, truly.

The next few days progressed in much the same quiet way. Celeste normally tucked herself into a book or sat placidly outside watching people pass by out front, Nesta a constant by her side. Her interactions with Azriel were hardly more than a meal shared with others or a quick passing in the hallway. She had poked around in every room by now and even though there were signs of her presence all around, it still felt foreign in her mind. The clothes in the wardrobe were definitely hers. The official letters and correspondence in the library desk were penned in her hand. The small trinkets and style of decoration all throughout the house were definitely her taste. She hadn’t gone delving too deeply though, not wanting to find anything too damning in the presence of her friend. But so far she had found no sign of her past self in these walls. The only self she knew now. 

Nesta. My friend. 

Confusing as it was to have no memories of their friendship, it still felt right to call Nesta her friend. She had been nothing but kind and straightforward with her since her whole world had been flipped upside down, doing her best to help her navigate through. Celeste was especially relieved to find her close by at night the few times she had abruptly awakened from more dreams. They were never fully materialized, just snippets portrayed randomly in no particular order. But they were enough to get her body flooded with adrenaline and jolted from sleep. 

“Smells like Elain is at it again.” Nesta’s voice broke through her wandering thoughts. “Let’s go down before it gets cold. I’m starving.”

They settled down to eat in the dining room along with Elain, who had joined them for many of the meals since she had cooked a fair number of them. Cassian heaped his plate full across the table from them, a nod of thanks in Elain’s direction. His presence during the day was nearly as constant as Nesta’s, stopping in after training and his official duties before retiring to the House of Wind at night. The final member of their lunch party rejoined them, Azriel settling himself back into his chair after seeing Rhys out. 

“Well that’s good news then.” Cassian said referencing the news Rhys had just brought them regarding Helion’s response. “We just might have some answers tomorrow.”

Cassian’s wink in Celeste’s direction made her slightly uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as it would have a few days ago. Cassian was quick to laugh and hardly ever without a smile or a joke. His easiness in any company had done a lot to begin melting Celeste’s persistent worry.

Helion’s impending visit had a tangible tension hanging in the air however, mostly radiating from the opposite side of the table. The charged atmosphere had Celeste on edge but she didn’t quite feel the same way about the news. She wasn’t allowing herself to get her hopes up only for them to be dashed. 

“Are there always this many people in and out of here?” Celeste piped up, changing the subject. 

Cassian smirked. “You can kick us out anytime you like, you know.”

Azriel’s hard glare in his direction had him smirking at his plate instead. “Not normally this frequently, no.” Az answered as if it took some effort to keep his voice even.

“Often enough that Azriel keeps threatening to move though.” Nesta’s mouth perked up into her own smirk at the Illyrian across the table. Another hard glare in her direction didn’t break her gaze though.

“What?” she challenged. “We all know you secretly love it, Shadowsinger.”

“Enough.” Azriel snapped harshly.

The sharp change in atmosphere had Celeste freezing with her fork halfway to her mouth. She remained still as her eyes darted over the rest of their company. Elain’s eyes went wide for a split second before she straightened her napkin in her lap. Cassian and Nesta exchanged a quick look between them before Cas shoved an elbow into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t worry,” he directed at Celeste. “Nobody’s moving anywhere. I simply won’t allow it. I’d starve if that happened.”

“The house can conjure anything you want Cassian. You aren’t in danger of starving.” Nesta quipped. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t listen to me. You two have that in common.” Another smirk graced his face and with Nesta’s answering crack of a laugh the tension was broken.

For everyone but Celeste that was. She risked a glance at the figure across from her. The tension rolling off of him had his shadows flowing over his shoulders in waves. The name Nesta had called Azriel had her attention drawn to those strange wisps that she had noticed he was never without. She had caught them a few times slowly drifting over her skin whenever she was close enough, which wasn’t often. She had wondered what they were and where they came from, asking Nesta once.

“I don’t really know what they are. They just — are," she had said. “I don’t think he’s ever explained how they came to be or if he even really knows himself.”

It was Azriel’s observance that she was staring that shook her back into the present. Dipping her head towards her plate, Celeste pushed her food around with her fork, no longer hungry but not wanting to offend Elain. 

The chatter that had accompanied the meal at the start was now just a quick remark here or there, mainly between the sisters and Cassian. 

“What would I be doing now if things were normal?” She asked during a lull in the conversation. “Like during a typical day?”

The word normal seemed to rub against the already tense aura around Azriel, his wings shuffling before he pulled them in again. A scowl flashing across his face. 

“Seeing patients, I suppose,” offered Nesta. “It all depends on the needs of the day and the rotation schedule and things like that.”

“You’d be in the clinic.” Azriel spoke. His voice was much calmer now but his body and face still tense. “It’s your clinic rotation this week.”

“Clinic? Where’s that? I thought I did house calls?” Celeste hadn’t asked for a lot of information about her usual routine outside of the healer abilities she had no memory of acquiring. She had tried once or twice in secret to pull forth whatever force should be within her but found no answering magic.

“It’s downtown.” Azriel answered her again, now pushing around his own food on his plate. “You do house calls mostly, but all the healers do clinic rotations for a week at a time.”

“It’s for patients that need round the clock care or more specialized treatment.” Nesta added. 

“Could I go there? I’d like to see it. Do you think they would have something for me to do?” Celeste looked toward Nesta hoping she’d volunteer as her chaperone. “I’d like to feel useful and get out of this house for a bit.” 

The clank of Azriel’s fork dropping to his plate made everyone jump. With another uneasy ruffling of his wings, he excused himself from the table. 

“I’m sure they could always use an extra set of hands somewhere.” Nesta answered smoothly as she gave a nod to Cassian. “I can take you if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. Thanks, Nes.”

It was the first time Celeste had used her nickname since this whole ordeal had begun. The small smile she gave her friend was heartwarming and bright.

“Anytime.”

“Leave it to Az to be such a neat freak.” Cassian quipped to himself as he sifted through the wardrobe. The clothing on the hangers was precise and neat, training leathers arranged by season, shirts ordered by type and color. Even the casual loungewear pants were neatly folded into thirds and stacked by color on the bottom shelf. “I bet he folds his socks too.”

With a flick of his fingers against the handle of a drawer he gained his answer. “Yup.”

Cassian gathered the haphazard pile he had tossed behind him as he selected items and tossed everything over one arm. Marching down the hall past the stairs, he didn’t even knock on the closed door he was headed for.

“Brother. Buddy. Pal.” He said jovially as he made his way across Azriel’s office and dumped his armload on the desktop. “Get dressed. We’re going on a field trip.”

Azriel eyed the pile of leathers in front of him with his neutral stoicism. “I’m working. Something you should be doing as well.”

With a sweep of one arm, Az deposited the pile onto the floor beside his chair and made to gather the stack of papers that had been strewn across his desk. 

“I know for a fact that you have deferred everything but your daily reports until further notice. The reports can wait. Our little field trip however, can’t.” Cassian’s lighthearted voice relayed his words but his eyes carried a hint of warning.

“Not now, Cassian.” Azriel countered with a warning of his own.

“Yes. Now.” His tone was no longer light.

Holding Cassian’s stare, Azriel didn’t respond. But when he moved to grab the fountain pen from its holder and continue on with whatever task he had in mind, Cassian took action. One large palm deposited itself over top the stack of papers as he leaned in closer to his brother across the desk.

“You scared her down there today. Not as much as you could have, but you still scared her.” Cassian’s voice carried a deadly timbre that most people only associated with the Spymaster. “I know that wasn’t your intention but given her history I don’t think you want to find out how easy it would be to go too far.”

Cassian straightened himself to standing, tugging at his own leathers to adjust them. “So you can sit here and brood and deal with the consequences or you can get yourself dressed and get your ass out the door.”

A deadly rumble of a growl came straight from Azriel’s chest. It was the realization of scaring Celeste that did the trick. The thought sickened him to his core. 

“Fucking asshole.” Az grunted as he pushed himself up and bent to gather the pile from the floor.

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking asshole, Illyrian bastard, ‘Ow, Cas you’re on my hair.’ I’ve heard it all before.” Cassian smirked as he mimicked his mate, his jovial attitude returning. “Get dressed. Time’s wasting.”

Less than an hour later, the two winged warriors touched down from flight into an open clearing deep in the Night Court woods. As Azriel shuffled his wings, Cassian rounded to face him.

“Well, let’s get the ball rolling. I’d like to be back in time for dinner.” He said, cracking his knuckles in a fist and rolling his shoulders. 

Azriel’s body was taut with energy, his shoulders practically hunched to his ears with tension but the deepening glower towards Cassian was the only movement he made. 

“Don’t make me tie you up and kidnap you until you are ready to cooperate.” Cassian winked. “I’d hate to resort to such measures.”

The growl that echoed through the trees had Cassian crouching slightly into defense, prepared for the blow he was sure was about to come. But nothing followed except for the groan of leather as Azriel gripped his damaged hands into fists at his sides. 

He waited one beat, then two. The shadows were creating a small breeze with all the whipping around they were doing between them, but Azriel remained motionless. 

“It’s for your own good and you know it.”

Silence.

Azriel didn’t want to be here. He didn’t care if it was for his own good like Cassian said. He didn’t want to play this game, he just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to stew in the roiling thoughts inside his own head that he had always been prone to escaping in. That escape felt comfortable and familiar even if the thoughts themselves were eating him from the inside. 

“Take it out on me now. Or keep on like you are and you’ll have her running scared,” Cassian remarked, no tease within his tone and with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Straight into the arms of the next male to warm her bed.”

There was no warning growl this time. In the blink of an eye, Azriel lowered himself and lunged straight for Cassian’s hips in an attempt to tackle him. With a swift dodge, Cas managed to miss the grab but he wasn’t quick enough to maneuver out of the path of the wing that slammed his shoulder and spun him around. Before he could even plant his feet to defend himself, Azriel’s fist met his cheekbone, snapping his neck viciously to one side. 

A wet rattling cough sounded as Cassian spat blood into the grass. “Ok, I probably deserved that.” Without wasting another second he was immediately on the defense. Azriel was pure fury wrapped in shadow as he struck again.

“I would never hurt her.” He gritted out through clenched teeth as he snatched Cas’s leathers at the shoulders and swept his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick. Pushing even more force through his arms, he slammed Cassian on his back onto the hard ground and topped it off with a punch straight to the gut. 

Cas wheezed as all the air left his lungs. “I know,” he coughed out winded before Az landed another strike to his already swelling jaw. Kicking out with all his might, he managed to hit Az squarely in the chest, tossing him back to land on his backside. 

Azriel was on his feet again in a flash. Around and around they brawled, occasionally grappling on the ground after one of them had been pinned. No more words were needed, just the sounds of their exertion and growls of injury rang through the clearing. 

Eventually Azriel had Cassian pinned on his back, knees planted firmly on top of his shoulders. As he pulled back his arm preparing to land another blow he suddenly lost all steam and tucked in his wings as he flopped to the side, rolling onto his back. Azriel lay there, gasping for breath through a busted lip and one working nostril, the other clotted with blood and well on its way to being swollen. Cassian remained beside him sprawled out on the grass, silent.

“I scared her.” Az broke the silence, staring above him toward the sky at the tree tops. 

“It can still be fixed.” Cassian replied, still unmoving.

Even Azriel’s shadows were tired, laying perfectly still like a cloak tossed over his front. His heavy sigh had them scattering like the seeds from a wishing flower. 

Az rolled his neck to peer over at his brother. “What if it can’t be though?”

“She’ll come around. She just needs time.” Cassian swiveled his own gaze to his brother. 

“Not just that. I mean her memory – what if,” Azriel paused, gathering his shortened breath as that chasm deep inside him spasmed. “What if it can’t be fixed without a mating bond?”

Cassian pushed himself up to sit. “What? Az, brother, this didn’t happen because you two don't have a mating bond. Don’t think like that.”

“But what if it can’t be fixed without one? Remember what Feyre told us about under the mountain? When she died, she held onto that bond and that was before she even knew it was there.” Azriel’s throat felt like it was closing up and the shadows began their swirling movements once more as he pulled himself up to sit as well. “What if I were able to give Celeste her memories back with a bond?”

Cassian ran a rough hand through his disheveled hair. This wasn’t his forte. He was the Lord of Bloodshed, a slayer of enemies. The intricacies of magic wasn’t something he had the confidence in to give Az the answers he wanted. 

“Helion will be able to tell us something surely. He is the SpellCleaver after all.” He sighed.

The birdsong had returned to the clearing after their raucous battle and the lull in conversation amplified their songs. Azriel sat hugging his knees, staring unfocused at the ground before his feet. He was trying not to pin all his hopes on the outcome of Helion’s arrival, but if he couldn’t get any information from him, Az was at a loss. He felt like he was failing his wife, his sweet Celeste. Due to her history and where her mind was stuck in time, she had woken up terrified of him. He didn’t know what to do with that. The urge to comfort her, to take her into his arms and assure her she was safe, was all he could think about. That would only terrify her more. She didn’t know him and finding out he was her husband had made the whole situation worse. He was a stranger in her eyes. 

“I think she was relieved.” Az choked out past the tightness of his throat. “When I told her there was no mating bond. I’m a stranger to her Cas.”

“She needs time.” Cas repeated his earlier sentiment. “She has had a lot of information thrown at her in a short amount of time. It’s not just you who feels like a stranger to her. It’s not just all these new faces she woke up to. She probably feels like a stranger to herself too. To find out she has a life she doesn't remember? To not have any recollection of all the choices she made that led her into that life? That’s got to be a serious mind fuck. She doesn’t know who that Celeste is.”

He had spent so much time grappling with how to reconcile the fact that they were all strangers to her that Azriel hadn’t really considered she was also a stranger to herself. He had focused so much on her fear and his grief that it didn’t click until now. 

“What if this time she chooses differently?” Az’s voice hardly above a whisper as that chasm yawned painfully, stealing his breath away. “What if this time she doesn’t choose me?”

“She hasn’t run yet.” Cassian answered with a soft smile. At his brother’s apparent confusion he continued. “Celeste could have run for the hills as soon as she realized the situation she was in. She trusts Nesta now, she could have begged her for sanctuary anytime in the past few days. She could have left that house for somewhere she felt safer already. There are a thousand choices she could have made since waking up that she didn’t make. Something inside is telling her to hold out and see where she lands even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”

Azriel contemplated his words in silence, the look on his face told Cassian he wasn’t quite convinced.

“Do you still love her?” He asked.

“Of course I do.” Az scoffed.

Cas nodded knowingly at his answer. “The Celeste you fell in love with is still there. And the Azriel she fell in love with is still here too.”

The day had progressed much faster than most of the previous ones. Probably due to the fact that Celeste had actual tasks to complete instead of roaming around the townhouse. Nesta had graciously accompanied her to the healer’s clinic earlier that morning before jetting off to do some much needed errands. Celeste felt a bit like a burden for having taken up all of Nesta’s time over the past week. She was still sleeping at Celeste’s side, although now at least she had moved from the armchair into the more than ample bed. 

She hadn’t recognized anyone upon arriving at the clinic, hoping to at least see Marin or Selah who she had been acquainted with in the couple days after waking up. The faces were all new to her however, but they all knew her considering she was their boss. The title felt strange to Celeste, the thought of managing so many people and schedules and needs was overwhelming. Quickly though she was set to task and was able to set her thoughts to the job at hand rather than her own swirling thoughts.

A positively tiny healer by the name of Elora had suggested that Celeste could start on inventory since it was due to be done in the next month or so anyway. She was provided with a list, strangely written out in her own hand, and shown to the back room. 

The walls were filled with glass fronted cabinets and open shelving of all kinds. Mismatched in color and height, they were arranged in whatever way could be fit. Deciding to start from the left most side of the room she began. By lunchtime she was no further than the third cabinet down, the depths of the shelves inside each cabinet seeming to hold a neverending assortment. It didn’t help that healers were constantly in and out of the door in search of their needed items causing Celeste to backtrack and amend her previous counts. 

Just a couple hours later, she tucked the list back into the office that she was told was hers and set herself on the bench outside to wait for Nesta. She had said she would return by now to walk her home but she was still nowhere in sight. The sun warmed Celeste’s skin and the sounds of the movements of downtown lulled in the background of her thoughts. With no task to complete now they had begun ramping back up to full swing. 

Slipping in the door once more, she found Elora and pulled her aside. “Would you please let Nesta know I headed back already.”

Elora gave her a wide eyed stare. “Are you sure? She might worry.”

“I can make it back home on my own,” Celeste answered politely. “It’s really not hard. I remember the way.”

Elora just gave her a nod and went on to her next patient.

Celeste did remember the way, at least she was pretty sure she did. Once she got out of the downtown proper she knew it was just a curving road along the outskirts until she reached her street. She eyed the posts on the corner closest to the clinic and pulled at her memory of earlier this morning. 

Yes, we definitely came from that street. And then a right at the next one I believe.

Confident in her path, Celeste set out. It wasn’t long before her thoughts began getting louder and she found it hard to block them out completely. Letting herself pick them apart a little at a time while she took in her surroundings, she carried on over the cobblestones. 

First and foremost in her mind was the incident from when she had wandered the house. Stumbling upon Azriel by surprise was bad enough, but the revelation that he was her husband still made her reel if she thought about it too long. She had not spent much time in his company outside of shared meals and so she hardly knew anything else about him other than what her friends had relayed to her. She had found that Nesta’s words still rang true. Stoic? Check. Kind? As far as she could tell, but she had spent zero time alone with him. Truly loved her? 

She shook that thought away before she could pry at it too deeply. Celeste couldn’t stomach the crawling feeling that it gave her in her gut. It wasn’t that Azriel was bad looking, he was actually quite beautiful. But love? How could anyone love someone so damaged as her? She was afraid to be alone, afraid of males in general, afraid of getting hurt. How could that attract love?

That is the old you, the you from before. You are a different person now, you just don’t remember.

Celeste shook that incessant thought from her brain once more. She didn’t feel like it was the old her. How could it be? How could she now be a different person if she didn’t remember anything about becoming that person?

That spiral of a thought made her pause before letting it slip away. Her brain was fuzzy with too much thinking and she glanced up at her surroundings once more to make sure she was still on the right path. But she wasn’t. Or at least she didn’t think so.

The building before her wasn’t once they had passed this morning, or was it? The gray stone front and full holly bushes out front were generic enough but also oddly familiar. She spun around to take in the rest of the street but before she could get enough of a look, a voice called out to her.

“Celeste!” Nesta called out breathlessly. “Gods spare me!” she gasped as she bent over, hands to knees catching her breath. “You scared me to death, I’ve been running around for three blocks looking for you.”

“Sorry, Nes.” Celeste replied sincerely. “I really thought I could get myself home. I guess I got distracted.” She flashed Nesta a lopsided smile of apology.

“It’s alright. I found you. Thankfully before I had to employ help.” She panted as she righted herself. “Azriel would have never forgiven me. Let’s keep it between us ok?”

At the mention of Azriel, Celeste’s smile faltered and she gave Nesta a quick nod. Nesta’s gaze had shifted before she could see it however, drifting up to the building they still stood in front of.

A frown of thought appeared across her face as she looked at Celeste once more. “Did you mean to come here?”

It was Celeste’s turn to frown. “No, I got distracted and I was just trying to figure out where I was.”

“Strange.” Nesta said wistfully.

“Why is it strange?”

“Just that you would end up here without meaning to. You used to live here. You don’t remember anything about that at all?”

Celeste peered at the building once more trying to unearth that earlier feeling that it looked oddly familiar, but the feeling slipped through her mind like smoke as she tried to grasp at it. 

“No. Nothing.”

“Yeah, you lived here before you and Az were married. I’m pretty sure it was the only place you lived in Velaris before you met all of us.”

Celeste remained staring at the building, trying to imagine herself walking from the lobby doors and carrying out her day to day life, but she had so little idea of what that life actually looked like.

Nesta saw the thick look of concentration on Celeste’s face. “We can go up and see your old apartment if you want. Maybe it would trigger something for you.”

They had been trying unsuccessfully over the past couple days to see if random things could pull forward any of her locked memories. Nesta had even had her read books they had finished hoping maybe even just the plots would ring a bell. 

“We can’t just go knocking on people’s doors asking to peruse their home, Nes.” Celeste giggled at the thought.

“We don’t have to,” Nesta started. “You own the building, you can do whatever you want. Besides, your old apartment is an office anyway so we wouldn’t be barging in or anything.”

“I – own the building?” Celeste stared at her, openmouthed. “And why is my apartment an office? I’m so confused.” 

“Well, technically Az bought it for you. And It’s not just an apartment building anymore. It’s a sanctuary for females escaping violence.” Nesta’s face softens. “You wanted to put it to good use. So you made it a place where they could transition safely into a new life.”

Tears sprang immediately to Celeste’s eyes. This building before her was the start of a new life for others like her. She did this.

“Did-” she choked out. “Did Azriel buy the building so I could do this?” She gestured with her hand toward the building front.

“Well, not exactly.” Nesta’s face twisted as she hesitated. “I don’t know if it's my place to tell you.”

“Whose place would it be Nes? This is my life we are talking about. I want to know.” Celeste demanded.

“I know, honey. It’s just – it feels so personal. But you are right. It’s your life.” Nesta’s face softens as she sighs. “Az bought you the building a few years after you two got together. Even after you moved in with him, you kept secretly renewing the lease on your apartment. You didn’t want to let it go. When it was sold to a buyer who was going to demolish it, Az doubled their offer and bought the building.”

The apparent look of confusion across Celeste’s face had Nesta reaching out, placing a gentle hand on her elbow. 

“You always wanted to make sure you had a place to go. If you ever wanted to leave, you didn’t want to be stuck. He knew about the apartment the whole time, so when the building was being sold he made sure you would always have it.” 

Celeste’s tears were back with a vengeance now, leaking steadily down her face. This revelation rocked against all the previous thoughts in her mind, the fear since waking, the suspicion of Azriel, the worry that her life wasn’t what it seemed. It shook her to her core. 

She turned to Nesta, eyes still glistening. “There’s one more place I want to go.”

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[ganondoodle]

you know, not like i had enough zelda ideas and rewrites already

but i thought of another (just roughly .. for now) for totk ... and its one where theres no time travel and no direct views into the past either, and no sonau shown, been wanting to think up one like this before but i recently got the basic idea for it (it ignores all of totk aside from some ideas like .. underground stuff)

the basic idea being that the sonau, whoever they were, had an understanding of the cycle hyrule keeps falling into, based on their use of the three animals representing the three virtues, perhaps them being so aware in fact that they were working on dismantling it, finding out why and get at it at its roots, perhaps being one of the only tribes left that knew some things of the past- with the twilight princess referecnes in that boar statue and the seven stones around it with one toppled over (like the sage that was killed)- or even just being aware of it, but not doing anythign against it bc they thought it should be and remain like it (though i like the first idea more)

them not being a high tech people either, perhaps more naturalistic or magic adjacent thing- to contrast the shiekah, who, as their place under the hyrulean monarchy, firmly believedd in hyrules divine right to conquer it all, and the sonau with their knowledge of the past and the cycle of reincarnation beign a threat to the royal families absoulute power position- thus leading to the sonaus destruction and why all their (botw) ruins are highjacked by shiekah shrines!

since the sonau kept most of their knowledge to themselves (hey hey, heres and idea, they didnt communicate vie normal languegs but vie sign language or some magic- making them even more different and mysterious to the others living in the world) no one really got to know what they knew nor their culture or plans; the shiekah findign out what they know or just that they might be a threat to hyrule being sent to get rid of them, in the process finding out more about the past (like the king of the gerudo being the one who has resisted hyrule before and his potential to go monster mode) beginning the plan to imprison the current king of the gerudo (picking up some of the ideas i have had before, the whole betrayel plot) before he can become a danger to hyrule

ganondorf finds out about it (perhaps being in a shaky alliance out of necessity- like the shiekah intentionally minign below the desert without the gerudo knowing that it robs the land of life- thus makign them dependend on trade with hyrule) and plans to counteract it (a big somehow for now, like assassinate the king of hyrule? or try and force him to abandon their plan or sth), and the plan works out for the most part, but theres one gerudo thats been on the side of the hyrulean family the whole time leading to ganondorf ending up sealed and trapped by the queen of hyrule (sealing powers and all, perhaps, again picking up former ideas, after starting a war for ganondorf killing the king) and after realizing ganondorfs undying spirit will never rest try and purify the malice hed sent out to break free, leading to them discovering a much more efficient way to power their newly developing tech, rather than luminous stones which are hard to mine and process, using ganondorfs spirit/malice instead (yes i WILL include battery theory again) which allows them to make all the ancient shiekah tech in the scale we see in botw (and hear of in the past calamity)

its sort of more like the first ideas i had for a totk rewrite, zelda being your companion from the start and link loosing his arm and gettign a shiekah tech replacement- with the added bonus of including the sonau without robbing them of their mystery while still developing them further

most of their recording having been destroyed, either intentionally or by the tides of time, but due to the cataclysm changing the landscape there being new caves uncovered with cave painting like remains of the sonau, entrances to the underground revealing that they came in fact from there and the population on the surface was a small fraction of the last ones of them, with the underground being filled with even more (botw) sonau ruins, but also shiekah labs in other parts

yes it paints the shiekah in a bad light .. which honeslty why not, they are hyrules pawns more or less, and given what the monks do just to give a future hero their last bit of spirit they must have very strong believe in it all- but then the next king turning on them and persecuting them just like they did to the sonau .. being yet another cycle

you slowly discovering everything real time, no memories and no direct views into the past, just real discoveris

ganondorf would once again be the villain, but it would give alot more background to him, in this case making him much more a victim of said cycle, it repeating by wanting to avoid it etc etc, and you wouldnt be able to reason with him after a little over ten thousand years of solitary imprisonment AND your spirit/energy being continueosly exploited to power tech built to fight off any of his attempts to break free (calamity ganon) leading to the desperation of literally tryign to rebuild himself out of malice, which is how you get weird spider ganon and the malice build lumps, eyes, mouths and even rib like structures- the monsters and bosses being a creation of him yes, it being an attempt, or antoehr really, to take revenge on all those that plotted against him, that helped in putting him in this agonzing condition between life and death AND then even exploiting his spirit too-- making the end fight more of a mercy kill with a tragic note, but still hopeful to a better future and not to let the cycle begin anew once a new gerudo king is born- so its not utterly throwing it all in dissarray but giving you the sense of ... theres a future, hope for soemthign better even if it wasnt fixable now

it falls more in line with the 'traditional' zelda formular, but makes it a bit more .. involved? nuanced?

(havent yet thought of ideas for the sky except .. it being there still like i had previously thought, idk if i will develop this further but i like this ones alot bc .... i dont like the totk sonau at all and find it extremely boring to just say yep they are here and actually everywhere and here they are literally in your face as people with voices- i liked them alot more as unkowns)