#to make matters worse this was in a silent area

[letoasai]

Will work for food

DP x DC An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.

~~

It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment. 

The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams. 

Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy. 

A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.  

Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it. 

“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle. 

“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.” 

“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan. 

“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted. 

“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.” 

Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?” 

“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work. 

“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it. 

“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?” 

“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.” 

There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?” 

Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.” 

She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for. 

It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs. 

Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face. 

“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment. 

“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.” 

Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.” 

“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?” 

Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over. 

“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-” 

“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?” 

Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke. 

The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title. 

“I can handle that. Your deal?” 

Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-” 

“Pass.” 

That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly. 

“My soul then….” Raven muttered. 

“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!” 

Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.” 

Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away. 

“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.” 

Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer. 

“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?” 

The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.” 

“Wha…” Flash muttered. 

The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.” 

“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.  

“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.” 

The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough. 

“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked. 

The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds. 

He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction. 

“Cool.” Red Robin muttered. 

“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity. 

Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.” 

Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly. 

“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…” 

“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.” 

“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.” 

Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?” 

“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything. 

Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced. 

“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging. 

The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.” 

“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered. 

The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes. 

“My food?” 

“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.” 

The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage. 

“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?” 

The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face. 

His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green. 

With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head. 

“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.” 

Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”

Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action. 

The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.

Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water. 

It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed. 

In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating. 

Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare. 

His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale. 

He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger. 

They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing. 

Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag. 

“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small. 

Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.” 

Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form… 

“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…” 

Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.” 

He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him. 

“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.” 

Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?” 

Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.” 

“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him. 

“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?” 

“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering. 

Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin. 

“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.” 

“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression. 

Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.” 

Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.” 

Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself. 

“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either. 

“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”

“What?” 

Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.” 

“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!” 

“No way.” 

“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.” 

“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame. 

Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.” 

He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?

~~

Masterlist

[marril96]

Reasons

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha wants to know why you wanted to go on the Road.

You knew you were in trouble when Agatha left the rest of the coven huddled around a fire and joined you in the forest area, away from prying ears.

You needed some peace and quiet. The trials were emotionally tasking. Risking your life day by day, doing things such as drinking poison and performing a song while fire raged around you…

It was a lot.

But this was your life now.You knew full well what you were signing up for. Agatha had warned you, loud and clear.

The choice to come here was yours, and you would make it all over again if given a chance for what you wanted — what you needed — from the Road wasn't something easily attainable. You'd be damned if you were to give up now.

Some things were worth risking everything for.

"Y/N," Agatha said as she approached you, casual, hands in the pockets of her coat. Like she were on a walk in a park rather than a dangerous and deadly Road.

"Yeah?" You weren't really in the mood to talk, your batteries still low from the latest trial. It didn't help that you didn't feel fully at ease with the others. The kid was fine, but the other witches made you nervous. You didn't trust them. You didn't know them.

The only one you really knew was Agatha. Which was why you just stood there instead of moving away or feigning sleepiness as she walked over, something clearly on her mind. It paid off to have befriended her back in the day. It was by pure chance, an encounter neither one of you expected, but, in hindsight, you were both glad it had happened.

She had earned a listening ear, someone to confide in, who wouldn't judge her no matter what. Someone who would have her back even if the rest of the world were to turn against her.

You had earned a protector in a world that was dangerous for your kind.

"We need to talk," Agatha said. Her tone didn't reveal much; you didn't know what to expect.

You turned to her. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's peachy."

"Is Jen talking shit about you again? My offer to punch her in the face still stands," you said. You'd nearly done so a couple days back, but Agatha had held you back. She could handle Jen, she'd said. Her words had meant nothing to her.

It didn't make hearing lies and slander about your friend feel any better, but if she said she was okay, then that was that. Agatha was centuries old; much older than you. She may have been powerless now, but she could still hold her own. She'd heard worse. She'd lived through worse. Some random witch's petty insults didn't bother her.

Agatha chuckled. "Jen is… Jen. But no, she hasn't said anything."

"Then what's up?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Why do I feel like I'm about to be interrogated?" you said, nervous. You forced a smile. "Are you back in your true crime mode? Are you gonna manhandle me until I confess?"

"That's cute," Agatha said, rolling her eyes, prompting you to laugh.

If you'd known Wanda Maximoff had cast a spell on her, you would have come and gotten her out of it sooner — or tried to, at the very least. That was the thing about friendships that lasted for centuries; a lot of time was spent apart. It wasn't unusual for one of you to disappear for a few years and then pop back into the other's life. You missed her when she was gone, of course you did, but she had her life, and you had yours.

It was only when she'd showed up at your door with Teen in tow that you'd finally found out why she'd gone radio silent for three years. And, much to your disappointment, the witch who'd done it to her was dead, so you couldn't even punch her for it, or call her a bitch to her face.

Such was life.

"What are you doing here?" Agatha asked.

"What do you mean?" you said, taken aback.

"On the Road," she clarified. "Why are you here?"

Because you wanted something you could never have without it. Simple as that. "You asked me to come."

"No, I didn't. I told you I was going. You demanded I take you with me."

Right. You'd hoped that little detail would slip by her. You should've known by now she kept track of everything; her mind was as sharp as her magic.

"I haven't seen you in three years," you said, hoping that would be enough of an explanation. "I wanted to hang out with you. And, like, maybe get some more power along the way."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a shitty liar?"

Yes. She did. Multiple times in the past. Which was why, whenever the two of you needed to swindle someone — for whatever reason — she was the one doing the talking and you just nodded along and smiled.

"You did."

"Yes," Agatha said. "I did. Because you are."

You sighed. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

"There's nothing to say."

There was a lot, actually, but you didn't dare open up that particular can of worms. Once it was said, it could never be taken back. So why say anything at all?

"Oh, is there?" Agatha said sarcastically.

"Don't do that," you said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Because you're my friend. Because I don't want to ruin this. "Because I'm asking you not to. That used to mean something."

"It still does." Her voice was soft. Tender. Gone was the sarcasm, the defensive sharpness. It was just her now. Your friend.

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know."

"Leave it alone." You knew she wouldn't. She never did.

"Y/N," Agatha said, your name but a whisper on her lips.

You sighed. Was she really going to do this now? Why couldn't she just take you at your word and put up with a little white lie? Why did she have to be so damn stubborn?

"Why did you want to come here?" She wasn't demanding. She wasn't prodding. She was just asking.

She knew you couldn't resist her for too long.

The perks of allowing Agatha Harkness to be your close friend. She knew you too well for your own good.

A lump formed in your throat. Heat bit at the back of your neck like a curse about to swallow you whole. Your heart raced, a marathon booming in your chest.

There was a silence, long, drawn out. Then, in your quietest, softest voice, you said, "You know why."

She always did.

She always knew everything.

Secrets weren't secrets for long around Agatha Harkness.

You tried to tell yourself that you were being careful, that your emotions were in check at all times, but the truth was, your poker face was worse than your lying skills. You just pretended you were doing a good job, and Agatha went along with it.

To her credit, she never tried to take advantage. She never made fun of you for it, or played games. The deal was friendship, and that's what she gave you. Nothing more, and nothing less.

"I want to hear it from you."

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. Your cheek burned like a fireplace. Your mouth trembled, holding the words back, wanting to keep them trapped forever. But what would be the point, really? The truth was bound to come out eventually.

The truth had been out for a long time, written all over your face. A big, scarlet letter for all the world to know how you really felt. What you really wanted, but never felt like you could have.

"You." It felt almost freeing to say it out loud, as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, allowing you to breathe in a way you hadn't for years. "I came here because I want you."

Really, what else could you have possibly wanted? You were satisfied with the power you had. You got by. Your life wasn't in danger. There was nothing for you to ask for, that you didn't already have.

Except for one thing you thought — you knew — was unattainable.

Agatha Harkness. One of the most powerful witches you'd ever gotten to know. Rumored to be cruel and ruthless, heartless. A remorseless monster. A serial killer of witches. Your best — and only — friend. The love of your life.

"Go on," you said after a few moments of silence. "Make fun of me."

"Now, why would I do that?" Agatha asked, appalled at the suggestion. Offended for sbe thought you knew her better than that.

Which was exactly why you were so afraid. She hid her feelings expertly. Rather than admit vulnerability, she preferred to go on the offensive. A scorpion stinging with its venom where it hurt the most. She cared about you, and she trusted you, but there was no telling how she would react to something like this out in the open.

You saw how she treated people. You watched her murder witch after witch and discard the bodies as if they were nothing. You watch her climb over others to prop herself up, to rise to the top.

What was to stop her from doing the same to you?

What made you so different?

Why had she never treated you any different than one would a friend? Why had she always had your back, without you even having to ask? Why had she taken lives — many, many lives — to save yours?

Why did she trust you with her story, with memories of her son and the failed romance with Rio?

Why did she feel comfortable to bare her soul to you and let the tears flow freely, a salty river down her face each and every time she revealed a piece of her history?

"I just…" You were nervous. You were scared. You wanted to die.

"You know, honey, you didn't have to be so dramatic about it," Agatha said, perking up. Teasing you like she usually did; a bit mean, but with no real malice behind it. Playful. A cat throwing around a mouse it had caught. "You went on the Road to score a date? Really?"

It wasn't really a date you were after, but her point stood.

You were stupid.

This was a stupid idea, and it had backfired, and now she was going to mock you for it until the day one of you died.

"You do know all you had to do was ask, right?" she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Like you'd ever give me the time of day."

Agatha pressed her hands to her hips, elbows sticking out. "Who's to say I wouldn't?"

Now she was definitely taking the piss. "Come on," you said, putting on your fakest smile you knew would never fool her. "You're this amazing, badass, smoking hot witch."

She preened at the compliments. The surefire way to feel heart. She was nothing if not an attention whore.

"You-you're everything." Your everything, and more. So much more. "And I'm a nobody."

"Don't you ever say that," Agatha said in her stern, no nonsense tone. No more Mrs. Nice Girl. All daggers and sharp edges. She grabbed you by the shoulders, fingers digging in, and looked into sour eyes so intently it sent chills down your spine. "Don't you ever think you're a nobody."

"Everyone else thinks that," you said quietly.

It was obvious the others didn't think much of you. You could see it on their faces; the lack of respect, the underestimation. Jen had called you Agatha's pitbull to your face.

That was all you were to them. A pathetic witch whose only purpose was to speak up for Agatha. She may have joked about Teen being her pet, but it was clear to them all that that was your job. Agatha's witch familiar who was hopelessly in love with her and barked — but never bit — at every perceived slight against her.

"Who cares what they think?" Agatha said. "You're an exceptional witch, Y/N. They are nobodies."

"You're only saying that to make me feel better."

"Does that sound like something I'd do?"

No. It did not. She might use those words to manipulate some poor, unfortunate soul, but not you. Never you.

She always said it to you like it was.

"I mean, you do like to manipulate people," you joked. "And you lie better than I do."

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Everyone lies better than you do."

"True." There was no denying that.

She sighed, exasperated. "You really are an idiot."

And then her mouth was on yours, and she was kissing you, and your entire world exploded into fireworks and sparks and electricity, and, for a few short moments, you weren't in a dirty, creepy forest but rather somewhere warm and welcoming, and you never wanted to leave.

Agatha was everything you had imagined, and much, much more. Fire and ice all in one. Sugar and spice and everything nice and cozy and so fucking delicious.

Hers was the taste you never wanted to give up.

She tried to lean her head back, to take a break for breath, but you grabbed her chin and kissed her again, and again, and again. Hunger like you'd never felt before overtook you. Your nerves were on fire, legs weak underneath you, but you held on, forced yourself to remain standing. To remain kissing her for you never knew when you would get another chance.

If you would get another chance.

"Honey, I may be immortal, but I still need to breathe," Agatha said with a chuckle, right against your lips. Playful. Teasing.

Deciding it was enough, you backed away. Your lips were swollen, tingling. The taste of her, all of her, still on them, lingering like a ghost of your past. Forever imprinted on your mouth, a tattoo you hoped would never fade. You never wanted to lose it. Never wanted to forget what it felt like to be kissing her.

"Sorry," you said, blushing, nervous to hell and back.

Agatha looked you in the eye once again with the same fire as earlier. "Never apologize for taking what you want. You're a witch. The world is yours for the taking."

"I don't want the world," you said. "I just want you."

"Done." She said it so casually, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

You didn't buy it.

You quirked up an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"You knew I was…" Completely and totally in love with her. "...into you."

"You have a tell," she said simply. She always could read people like an open book.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I wanted you to ask for it."

"But why?"

Agatha sighed. "Y/N, what is it that I've been teaching you since the moment we met?"

"Fuck the rules?"

She nodded. "Fuck the rules."

"To be unapologetically me," you said.

"Because…?" she prompted.

"I'm a witch, and I've got nothing to be ashamed of. If I fuck up, that's fine. Shit happens. There's nothing that can't be fixed with a little bit of magic."

Agatha grinned, brimming with pride. "That's my girl."

That's what you really were now. Her girl.

A part of you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that this was real. That it wasn't some dream or a hallucination the Road had inflicted on you as part of some fucked up trial.

The other part wanted to wrap her in your arms and never let go.

"Can I kiss you again?" you said, uncertain. Still not used to this new situation you'd gotten yourself into.

"You don't even have to ask," Agatha told you.

So you went for it. You kissed her. Once. Twice. Three times.

An infinite amount of times.

Later on, when it came time to get some shut eye, you kissed her goodnight, and she wrapped her arms around you. A protective cocoon, warm and safe.

And, in the morning, she was the one to wake you with a kiss of her own.

It was only fair.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @werewolfvpire @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans

[1mlei]

An unknown entity is tormenting a city (Gotham, Metropolis, etc, doesn't matter) and at this point nearly the entire Justice League is on location. And they are loosing, badly. The flaming green robot should have been easy enough for the entire JLA to take out, but none of their attacks have any effect, they can't even touch the robot, who is capable of devastating amounts of destruction. At this point the heroes have shifted their focus to rescue and evacuation efforts, while the JLD members present are scrambling to figure out how the hell to fight a being from the Infinite Realms. The idea of summoning someone from the Realms to help is brought up but ultimately dismissed as an absolute last resort, the risk of summoning something even worse being too great.

The robot is hovering in the sky, his mechanical face somehow morphed into a mocking grin as he looks down at the heroes. His arms morph into massive blasters, and the heroes hurry to get the area as clear as possible, then brace for impact. Except, nothing happens. And then, a loud metallic clang sounds. On the ground in front of the heroes lies the body of the robot, or what remains of it after falling 50 feet. They notice it's missing it's head. As the heroes look up to where the robot had been hovering a moment ago, they see a person flyi- no, just standing there. A regular looking kid with black hair, wearing an oversized ghostbusters hoodie and jeans, is standing on the roof right behind where the robot had been hovering. But what everyone can't help but focus on, is the decapitated head of the robot he's holding upside down in his hands.

Everyone there stares at the kid in... relief? trepidation? Mostly in disbelief, they watch as the kid looks at the head in his hands (there's a small flicker of something bright green sticking out of it) then down the side of the building at the body below. The kid lets out a pleased hum that is only audible to those with super-hearing, then turns around and walks out of sight.

The heroes are quickly snapped out of their trance and all hurry to get up to the roof, but in the 0.2 seconds it took them to get there the kid had disappeared, robot head gone with him.

They are later unable to find any clear footage of the kid, or any other clues on how to find him, he's simply vanished without a trace. .....

Danny had been busy studying for an upcoming exam, when he was rudely interrupted by Skulker being annoying outside. Phasing through his wall and invisibly flying over to take a look he finds several city blocks that have been levelled to the ground, and a Skulker hovering in the sky grinning down at his handiwork as if he's done something special. Danny is frustrated at being interrupted for this, and doesn't have time for a long, drawn out battle right now, so he lands on the roof behind Skulker and walks up to him silently. He quickly grabs the head of Skulker's suit and yanks, effectively decapitating him and making the body of the suit fall down on the ground. He checks to make sure that Skulker's actual blob of a body is in the head, then that the suit on the ground is fully powered down. Satisfied, he hums and walks away, turning invisible once more and flying back to his apartment, where he puts Skulker in a thermos for a time-out. Then he sits back down and begrudgingly opens his textbook to where he left off, unaware of the heroes collectively having a breakdown.

[cringe--is--dead]

Can I request headcanon of Jason Todd/Red Hood (Under the Red Hood movie) being with fem s/o who can magically heal just about anything no matter how severe the wounds are and how deadly the diseases, but she can't heal herself; she is serene, gentle and soft spoken please?

I think Jason Todd deserves the world, so yes, I shall! Thank you for the request!

You Playing Doctor Now? Jason Todd x Meta!Reader

The door slamming open and shut had become a sound you were used to. Months ago it would have startled you, made you jump nearly out of your skin, especially given the area you found yourself living in. Now, however, the sound was almost comforting to you.

The slam of the door meant your boyfriend was home, alive, but from the sluggish sound of his footsteps, not uninjured. You paused what you were doing, carefully chopping vegetables for the stew you had been planning on making.

You set the knife down, washing your hands rather quickly, before making your way into the living room. Sure enough, Jason was sat on the couch, having taken his helmet off himself, sweaty and breathing heavily, his eyes shut.

His hair was nearly plastered to his forehead, and he didn't open his eyes to your entrance, despite hearing your footsteps grow closer. You took stock of his appearance, cuts and fresh bruises lined his cheeks, and you were sure there were other injuries beneath his armor if the thin trail of blood from your doorway was any indicator.

"You should see the other guy," Was the first sentence he offered you, lips curled in an attempt of a smirk, but his labored breathing made it appear more of a grimace.

"I'd rather not waste my time looking at dead bodies," Despite your worry, you joked back, voice soft as you knelt down in front of him.

He cracked open his eyes, sighing as he took in your sight. Your eyebrows were furrowed with worry, eyes raking over his appearance, no doubt calculating just how injured he was. He shifted, leaning towards you, prying a glove off before caressing your cheek, thumb softly brushing the cheek bone.

"I'm fine."

You rolled your eyes, rather used to hearing that line fall from his lips, "You and I both know that's a lie," You stood up, hands on your hips, "Take the armor off."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect your concern, "Take me to dinner first."

You barely rose to the bait, "Dinner will be ready sooner if you let me treat your injuries without a fight."

The two of you stared at each other for a silent moment, before he relented. He had never thought he'd meet someone whose stubbornness outweighed his, and he never would have thought that someone as sweet as you could be harder-headed than him.

"Alright, alright," He hated that he was struggling to remove his own armor, muscles sore and screaming at him.

You shook your head as he dropped his clothes onto the ground, stepping forward, tender hands pressing gently to his skin. You started on his face first, palms cupping his jaw, and he relaxed into your hold, the warmth of your hands fighting the nippy cold from outside that still lingered in his bones.

You made a soft tsk, and he felt the odd sensation of the cuts on his cheek closing themselves up, not having to open his eyes to know that your gaze was unwavering, eyes glowing inhumanly, the color a brighter hue of the normal ones he fell in love with.

"The scars will fade quickly," You murmured, voice low as you moved your hands from his face, gently pressing against his shoulders, biceps, forearms, taking assessment of the damage.

He opened his eyes to watch you, a smile forming on his face as you continued muttering to yourself, cursing him for trying to hide his injuries, easily reversing the damage that had occurred to him hours before.

"Jason Todd," You scolded, pressing your hands against his ribs, eyes narrowing into a glare, "You were going to hide broken ribs from me?"

He chuckled sheepishly, "I've handled worse."

"Doesn't mean you have to now," He felt energy buzz under his skin, sucking in a quick breath as he felt his ribs fuse back together, "I'll do whatever I can to make sure of that."

He knew that, he knows that. But more often than not he feels as if he's taking advantage of you, of your abilities. He didn't know if your powers made you selfless, or if your selflessness manifested your powers. But he does know that you would run yourself ragged if it meant you could help every injured or ill-ridden person you came across.

He didn't want to admit it to anyone, let alone the rest of the stupid bird family of his, but he did go out of his way now to avoid massive injuries. If he came back with just a few scratches or bruises, he could talk you out of healing him, telling you paper cuts hurt worse than the injuries he had now.

He had less luck when he came home with cracked bones or bullet holes. He knew, and you knew, he would heal faster than normal thanks to the Lazarus Pit, but your powers worked almost instantly. You'd rather heal him immediately, rather than let him set for a few hours, body healing itself.

In a matter of five minutes, all his injuries were gone, leaving nothing but dried blood and faint scaring in their places. You sat back on your heels, eyes their normal shade, smiling up at him.

"There you are," You stood, leaning to place a soft, quick kiss to his lips, pulling back to run a hand through his hair, "Good as new."

"You enjoy playin' doctor, huh?"

The blush on your cheeks had him grinning like mad, and you rolled your eyes to avoid eye contact. He caught your hand in his, resting your knuckles against his lips, "Thanks doll."

You went to move, more than likely heading back to finish tonight's meal, but a flash of white caught his eye, and he grabbed your hand, turning it palm up. You stood, eyebrow raised in confusion as he ran his fingers across your skin gently, feeling the rough bandage across your palm.

"What happened?"

Your lips formed a quick 'o', grinning almost sheepishly, "I nicked myself cutting the carrots a bit earlier," You let him fiddle with your hand, your fingers for a moment longer, shrugging, "It's fine, I dressed it."

"I wish you could heal yourself."

He had found himself saying that so many times, wishing you could use your abilities selfishly. You healed him, no questions asked. You used to babysit some of the kids in the area, kissing away scraps and bruises under the guise that kisses healed everything when they looked at you in wonder. You held injured birds, cats, and dogs in the alleyways, taking care of their illnesses brought by hunger, correcting broken wings and crooked paws like it was as simple as breathing.

But whenever you were injured, struck down by a fever, found yourself in a situation where you needed help, you were helpless to do anything for yourself.

Your powers, Jason thought, were a blessing and a curse.

You shrugged, "Even if I could, wasting my abilities on a little cut? I'm fine."

His gaze met yours, and you understood the look he was giving you. You were repeating his own sentiments to him now, but you stood by it. Even if you could heal yourself, there were others who needed your energy and powers more than you did. Why would you have been born with this power if not to help others?

That's the notion you were raised on, and while Jason wanted you to put yourself first, protect yourself over strangers in the streets, he also knew that mindset was why the two of you met.

No one else would have rushed to the side of a downed Red Hood in the streets, covered in a mixture of his blood and the blood of those he killed. Everyone else would have run off or ignored him, but you rushed to his side, not asking questions, not trying to remove his hood or armor, hands placed where ever you could put them, and before he knew it, the dizziness brought on by blood loss was gone.

The rest was history.

He stood up, "Let me redress it at least," He squeezed your hand gently, "A lifetime of healing and you don't even know how to properly apply a band-aid."

You pouted but laughed along as he dragged you behind him to the bathroom, the first aid kit he forced you to buy still laying out on the counter.

You chattered away, talking about how your day had been, the kittens you saw coming back from the store earlier, how you got rid of their flea-ridden infections, and how you went back a few hours later and set up a box with some blankets in it for them. You mentioned keeping an eye on them, and bringing them home if no one claimed them in the next few days. He listened intently, cleaning the cut and dabbing some neosporin on it, wishing he could do more for your injuries, regardless of how small there were.

He'd do whatever he was able to though, wrapping any cuts you got, icing any bruises that appeared, he'd carry you everywhere if you required him to. He'd do that for as long as you'd let him.

Sorry, I had no idea how to end it. I hope you liked it!

[valsverse]

hi valerie!

i have a suggestion for a leo x reader. we all know he would give beautiful little gifts, so how do you think he would react when receiving them? like something artistic and carefully handmade. idk just thought it might me cute lmao

thank you 🩶

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ KNICKNACKS | leo valdez x gn!reader hc's [wc: 586]

leo would be so ecstatic omg

he'd handle the small trinket you made for him with so much care and delicacy, you'd think it was made out of glass. and once he was finished admiring your creation, (though, that would take a while.) he'd immediately blurt out a high-pitched "for me??"

he just struggles to comprehend why someone as talented as you would use your creative abilities for him? he's so used to being overlooked that even the thought of being the recipient of your artistry is almost unfathomable. :(

leo would turn your creations over and over in his hands, silently memorizing every detail, as if he's afraid that your work might vanish if he takes his eyes off of it.

and his reaction?? always stays the same?? no matter how long its been?? you'd present your work to him and he'd be so theatrically shocked. like full on gasping and lowkey fighting for his life as if he hadn't expected the gift at all, even though you'd been showering him with your creations for the past month.

but once he gets past that point?? he becomes almost obnoxious about it. 💀 he'd sit in the dining pavilion so proudly, your little knickknack perched right next to him with the full intent of somebody asking him about it JUST so that he could ramble about you.

literally ONE person would bring it up, just to make small conversation, and he'd be like, "oh, THIS?? it was made by MY partner, for ME, by the way. but no big deal, y'know."

waited his entire life for that moment fr.

i completely mean it when i say leo would sweep ALL the belongings from his shelf to showcase even ONE item you made for him in all its glory. front and center. his siblings are so confused.

but if you start regularly gifting him things and blessing him with your artistry on a daily basis? he'll dedicate an entire shelf to your creations. and it's so funny because the rest of his area is so cluttered and disorganized, with random unfinished projects laying around without a second thought, bed not even made, but the shelf above his bunk?? the one with all your creations sitting on it?? it's so neat?? organized and color coded and everything?? it almost looks out of place.

even when you're away on quests, he still admires the creations you've left behind, tenderly cradling them in his hands and running his fingers over every curve and edge, as though you were still with him in the moment. :((

after some time, the gifting thing would turn into running joke between you two. a game of one-upmanship where every gift had to be better than the last. like if you made him a small sculpture out of clay, he would show up at your cabin the next day with a BOUNTY full of creations he made himself, along with a bouquet of flowers that he borrowed with no intention of giving back (stole) from the demeter kids to top it all off. <3

you'd make him one thing and he makes you ten more, he's so whipped.

leo would cherish your gifts so much, like he's almost scared of ruining them. especially if your gift is something that is SUPPOSED to be worn, like a ring of some sort. he'd proudly wear it around camp, obviously, but he'd check on it every few minutes to make sure it hadn't magically vanished from his finger. or worse, broke.

of course, leo knows he could fix it if it became damaged, but it wouldn't be the same. it wouldn't have your charm and artistry, your unique touch that made it so special.

all in all, leo is so enamored with your creativity, but judging by his actions, you probably already knew that.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

This is a lovely commission from a moon of mine. They wish to be anonymous, but I do have a brief description of the headcanons. I would like their reactions to finding out their s/o is self-harming, how they would try to help them day to day, and what new coping strategies they would suggest/get them to try. I'd like this with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox. Romantic Lucifer, Alastor & Vox caring for Reader

TW: SELF-HARM MENTIONED, COPING SKILLS (These may not work for everyone), ANGST/FLUFF

Lucifer:

When Lucifer found you that day, he was devastated. You were so frail and small in his arms, and it hurt his soul.

He cleaned you up carefully and bandaged all your wounds. Holding you close to his chest, telling you how much you mean to him.

It was common knowledge to everyone how much he cared for you and how he compared you to the angels in heaven themselves.

He didn't leave your side for weeks, helping you through every emotion and thought that crossed your mind.

He was honestly a little overbearing, making you feel worse that he was dedicating his whole life to you.

When you brought this up with him, he calmed down on the clinginess but still routinely checked up on you.

He enlisted Charlie and Vaggie, two of the people he trusted most in the world next to you, to find better ways to help you avoid reverting to harm.

He took the learned material seriously and began helping you set up healthy routines again slowly.

He helped you with big tasks that felt way too much at the time while still giving you the independence you needed.

He made sure you two went on 'hot girl walks' once a day to help you get more vitamin D.

He conjured a whole gym area for you in the hotel after learning the endorphins in exercise would help.

If you ever had a dark day or a bad event, he would re-cling himself to you.

Even if you protested, he was right there, ready to go and assist you.

He told you daily how much he loved and cared for you and helped remind you how needed you are in this realm.

Alastor:

Alastor rarely felt broken in his human or demon life. Not often did anything shake him to his core.

The day he found you, though, near death and fading, he was a broken man indeed.

You were not allowed to leave his arms no matter how hard Charlie or other inhabitants asked him to let you be looked at by another.

He had years of wound care experience, so he took to cleaning and tending to you.

Was it mentioned that he was in complete demon form the whole time? Well, he was, and he was so angry at the world but so gentle with you.

He wasn't as clingy as Lucifer; instead, he was a silent observer, only coming when asked.

He refused to let you out of his sight, though, making sure that if you weren't physically with him, his shadow was nearby.

He basically destroyed your room by looking for anymore harmful objects. He made up for it, though, by getting you brand-new everything.

"A brand new you is refreshing, my love letting go of the bad.'

He helped you dye and cut your hair when you decided to go with the whole new me look.

He took your eating habits to heart and ensured you had three meals a day, all prepared by him.

Good nutrients would significantly improve your mental health and give you more energy and stamina.

Every morning, when he woke by your side, he would remind you, "You are never fully dressed without a smile, my love."

Vox:

Vox is a big baby on almost anything, especially when things don't go his way or play out how he expects them to.

He never expected to be serious and somber about anything detrimental until he found you that day.

He was terrified of losing you, and his immediate reaction was to hold you close and get you to a hospital.

Man has every tech device in Pentagram City, but he knew what you needed was far beyond his scammy gizmos and gadgets.

Once in the hospital, he was pacing the room, wearing a grove into the floor.

Once you were cleared and ready to go home, he asked you simple fundamental questions, ranging from a simple "why" to a more in-depth "How can I help you?"

He knew that when you answered in shrugs and 'I don't know,' he would have to do the grunt work to help his love.

He talked to doctor after doctor and scoured the web to find all the best remedies to help you.

He took up yoga with you, and right after yoga ended, he would sit with you in a warm bath and talk about what you thought.

When you fully started opening up to him about the dark thoughts clouding your brain, he was already prepared to help.

He helped you cleanse your social media and even recommended good, worthy shows to distract you from your thoughts.

Vox loved you more than life itself and couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

He made sure every day you knew that you would look in the mirror at him lovingly holding you and remind yourself of that, too.

[mountainsandmayhem]

congrats on 500!! 💗

ILYSM!! could you write this drabble we were talking about😈 a lazy Sunday morning riding Joel..he says something like “use your daddy” and/or “that’s my girl.” thank you daddy 🤭😂

Sunday With Your Dad’s Best Friend

18+

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

AN: thank you baby for this great request. I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩵. Did I proof read this? No, of course I didn’t. ✌🏻 YOLO.

CW: I don’t want to give away too much, but wrap it up (be better than these two) use of nicknames and based on the ask one of those nicknames is daddy.

Joel freakin Miller. Your dad’s best friend and your secret hook up for the past few months. Sunday mornings with Joel might be your favourite. Your parents think you’re at work, but instead, you park your car in his garage and spend the day flirting, cuddling and fucking.

It’s a beautifully warm summer morning, Joel is sitting on a pool lounge chair in his backyard, long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He’s in mid thigh length neon green shorts that accentuate his tan, and no shirt. Sun kissing his chest, and it feels weird to be jealous of UV rays that get to touch him in places that are only for you.

He glances up over his book to watch you swimming laps in his pool. The water glistens off your bare back and ass, legs fluttering gracefully beneath the water. As you reach the end furthest away from him you dive under, spinning your body and pushing off the wall to swim back towards him. As you come up to the surface you spin onto your back, cherry pink nipples skimming the surface as you backstroke through the water. He’s never been more thankful for all the tall trees and bushes he planted to make his backyard completely secluded from his neighbours.

Joel puts his book and reading glasses down as your naked body ascends the steps of the pool in front of him. He crosses his toned arms and tilts his head to the side, eyes watching the water droplets run down your body, pooling in the curvy areas he loves so much.

“Gonna get a sunburn if you aren’t careful, baby girl,” he says, concern and arousal fighting each other in his voice.

You blink at him, gathering your hair to the side and squeezing out the water. “Yes, daddy.” You tease, water splashing against the hot paving stone of the pool deck.

He shakes his head and smirks, a dimple forming on his cheek, highlighted by the sun glinting off his greying facial hair. “Careful with that nickname, darlin’.”

Baby girl and darlin’ in a matter of minutes has you itching to get your hands on him. “You just called me two nicknames back to back. That’s cheating.”

“Cheatin’, hey? How so?” His voice has dropped an octave, and that’s almost worse than a nickname.

You wander over to the table beside him where your towel sits. You reach out for your towel as you say, “Makes me want you.”

Joel grabs your wrist, his large, strong hand easily circling the tapered part of your arm. “That right? Someone feelin’ needy,” he pauses before adding, “Sweetheart.”

A little whimper escapes your throat as his coffee and brown sugar-speckled eyes wash over you.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, pulling gently to stand beside him. Your eyes flick down to the tent forming under his swim trunks.

“Can I…” you start, voice shaky and shy.

“Don’t be shy, baby girl. I’m yours, remember?” You nod as he continues, “And you’re mine. So anything you want. Anything.”

You shut your eyes and take a slow breath, perky breasts rising and falling close to Joel’s face as his thumb caresses the smooth inside of your wrist as a form of silent encouragement. “I wanna ride you.”

You open your eyes to see Joel smiling proudly at you. “Good girl,” he hums, releasing your wrist and slipping his swim trunks off. His cock is hard as nails from just the sight of you, he leans back in his lounger - not quite sitting at a full 90 degrees.

“Come on, baby. Straddle me,” his hands come to your hips as you stretch one leg over him and then down onto his lap. His thick shaft rests between your bodies, your pussy sliding along him as you sit. Your clit twitches with every vein and ridge.

Your hand's card through his hair as his hands move to the globes of your ass, encouraging you to grind along him. You lower your face to him, kissing him slowly as you buck your hips back and forth. You swallow the deep moan that passes his lips, slanting your head and licking along his bottom lip.

He kneads the curves of your ass, “more,” you whimper.

He lifts you slightly, then brings one hand to his cock, pumping it a few times before teasing your clit when the head, pre cum leaks from the slit and he spreads along your already soaked and silky cunt.

“Shit, darlin’, so wet already,” he whispers, sliding the head to tease at your tight entrance.

This is your favourite part, the painful little stretch when he first pushes himself in. He always gives you time to adjust before fucking you, today is no different as he pushes your hips down to swallow all of him. You cry out as you settle onto him and his lips crash into yours to stifle you. “Sshhh, the neighbours could be out,” he mumbles into your lips, chest heaving as he adjusts to your tightness choking him.

“Sorry, just feels so good,” you moan quietly.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” His strong hands massage at the creases of your hips. “This what you needed? Me buried deep inside that beautiful little pussy?”

You feel the walls of your pussy flutter around him. Joel is good with his hands and tongue and has the perfect sized cock for you, but it’s his filthy mouth that usually starts that familiar ache to build at the base of your spine.

“Yes,” you huff, slowly grinding into him.

“I can tell. So tight for me. Can feel you fluttering around me already.” Your hands move from his hair to his broad shoulders, using them to leverage yourself so you can get better momentum to slide back and forth.

“Oh god, Joel,” you coo. The ache turns into bubbling lava.

“Kiss me,” he says, strong arms winding around you and pulling you into his chest. You kiss him deeply, tongues lazily flicking against each others as you glide your hips back and forth against him. At this new angle, the soft part of his lower body hits your clit, the slight curve in his cock hitting that spongy part that makes you weak and boneless.

All of the movements from you and Joel are slow and soft, almost lazy. Neither in a rush to orgasm or to get to the next part of your day. This is all that matters right now.

Joel breaks the kiss, hand sliding up your back to the nape of your neck, gently encouraging you to turn your face so he can kiss along your jawline toward that soft part below your ear. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly, just for you to hear. “Use your daddy to cum.”

Your body jerks faster, the bubbling lava close to the eruption point. He lets you move at your own pace, flicking your hips once, twice, and three more times before you feel it. “Good girl, let go,” his teeth graze your earlobe as you fall apart.

You bury your face in his neck. Whispering his name, body going slack. He takes over, hands gripping your lips tightly and moving them in the same pattern you were.

“Oh fuck….yes, daddy. Please,” you’re a whispering, mumbling mess as the pleasure waves through you. The sensitive hard bud at the top of your cunt twitching and pulsing with each graze of his belly. “Don’t stop, Joel. Please - please don’t stop.”

“I know, sweetheart. I got you,” he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down; he does exactly as you ask. “That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

“Fill me. Fill me, please.” You whine, kissing the crook of his neck.

“Fuck. Shit, baby girl.” He says, head falling back to the lounger. You pull back to watch him. Eyes clenched tight and mouth slightly agape. Small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Look at me,” you whisper, slowly retaking control of your body, swivelling your hips into him. His soft brown eyes peel open, dancing around your face. “Please, Joel.”

“Call me daddy,” he moans, his dick getting harder as you ride him.

“Please, daddy. I’ve been such a good girl. Fill me.” You say sweetly, just the way he likes it, before sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel’s breath hitches as his hips stutter, hands clamping down on your hips to still you. “Shit, yes. Yes. Oh fuck, you’re so good for daddy.” His cock jumps and twitches inside you as ropes of cum coat you, marking you and claiming you as his.

As he comes down he pulls you onto his chest, lips kissing lightly along the hairline of your forehead. “God damn, little one. I love when you talk dirty to me like that.”

You nuzzle deeper into his warm chest. “Noted…daddy.”

A deep growl fills his chest. “I’m still inside you, careful with that nickname.”

“I’m having Deja Vu,” you joke.

“As soon as I get control of my legs, I’m takin’ you inside and lickin��� that little pussy clean in the shower,” Joel says matter of factly.

You giggle, “Anything you say, daddy.”

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twelve: Justice

Chapter WC: 11,285

Chapter Tags/Warnings: war stuff, description of blood/injuries

A/N: angst? happening. plot? developing. romance? uhhhhh

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Saleucami, 21 BBY

Dorin, Geonosis, and now Saleucami. It's been a series of defeats and close calls, and the losses have been mounting. You're running on fumes, and the exhaustion is starting to catch up with you. 

The plan to rescue Master Koth from General Grievous had fallen apart as soon as the mission started, and now, you and Obi-Wan were racing to make things right. Anakin was still in orbit, fighting off the Separatist fleet, while you and Obi-Wan were on the ground in pursuit of General Grievous. Somehow, you'd been given command of the 501st, and even though it was technically only temporary, it still felt good to have his presence at your side again. Especially after the last few missions.

Tracking is tedious work, and your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from the naval battle. You stand off to the side as Obi-Wan's men sift through the wreckage of the landing transport, but you know as well as he does that neither Grievous nor his droids are among the debris.

You stand on the back of an AT-TE, binocs in hand, scanning the horizon for signs of movement. But, the area is eerily quiet, and there's no sign of the enemy. Even the wildlife is silent, as if sensing the danger. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you take in a shuddering breath.

"Thermal housing intakes are still warm. This couldn't have happened too long ago," Cody announces, and the men murmur in agreement.

"The crew compartment's almost entirely destroyed," Rex adds, his gaze shifting up to meet yours. You leap off the walker to stand beside him, the ground uneven beneath your feet, and his hand comes up automatically to steady you.

You ignore the tingle of warmth where his gloved hand touches yours, and you turn your attention to the wreckage. "They can't have gotten far on foot."

"We'll split into teams," Obi-Wan announces, his gaze sweeping over the assembled men, and you nod.

"Rex, take Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix and search the wetlands," you order. "We'll stay on this path and cover more ground."

"Yes sir," Rex says. He signals the other clones, and the four of them break away from the group, heading toward the land speeders

"Be careful," you call after him, unable to stop yourself.

He looks back, and there's a faint smile on his lips.

"Always, sir," he promises before he turns and climbs into a speeder, securing his helmet over his head. The engines roar to life, and the three speeders zoom off. You watch as they disappear over the crest of the hill and let out a long breath.

Rex is more than capable, but you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. The ominous dreams of golden fields and smoke have grown worse over the last few weeks, and it's only a matter of time before the visions begin to manifest in reality.

The feeling doesn't go away. It only grows stronger the further you get from the wreckage. Something is wrong. You can feel it, and it makes you uneasy.

Obi-Wan must sense your unease, because he stops and turns to face you, his eyes searching your face. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he squeezes gently. "Don't worry, my dear. They'll be fine."

"Rex is a smart man," Cody adds. "He knows how to handle himself."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan nods, and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Always thinking on his feet."

"Yeah."

You let out a sigh, and Cody gives you a knowing look. He tilts his head, and his voice drops low. "Sir, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No," you say, and his brow furrows, his expression skeptical. You scowl at him, and he just smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes," you retort, your voice firm. You fix him with a flat look, but you can't quite stop the flush creeping into your cheeks. Cody raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch. You roll your eyes. "I don't know. I can't explain it, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"Well, that makes two of us," Obi-Wan remarks dryly.

"Three," Cody adds. He shakes his head and shrugs. "We should get moving. We don't have time for a debate."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan replies. Cody gives a nod and moves off, leaving the two of you to stand and watch as the men poke through the wreckage. He sighs, his expression grim, and he glances up at the sky. "I hope Anakin is alright. He was in quite a mood when we left."

You huff. "He doesn't like losing."

"No he doesn't. And neither do you," Obi-Wan says, his expression thoughtful. He's silent for a moment, his brow furrowed, and his gaze shifts back to you. "How are you feeling?"

"What?"

"Well, it's been some time since we've had a chance to talk," he starts. His eyes are sharp, his expression serious, and he tilts his head, scrutinizing your face. "I know the past few weeks have been...difficult. We've all been under a lot of strain. But I haven't had the chance to check in with you."

"I'm fine, Obi-Wan," you say, trying to reassure him, but the words feel hollow. He gives you a long, doubtful look, and you let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm tired. Really tired. But, I'm fine. Honest."

"Good."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Fine," you echo. You tilt your head and give him a wry smile. "Are we ever going to actually talk about how we feel?"

"We did," he points out. "And if I recall, it did not go well."

"No, it didn't," you admit. You snort, and you lean against the walker, resting your elbows on the metal hull. Not going well was generous.

"Do you think we should try again?" he asks. His mouth twitches, and he gives a pointed glance at Cody, who's standing a short distance away. The Commander's back is to the two of you, and his gaze is fixed on the men. "Now might be a good time."

"You're joking." At his raised eyebrow, you let out a groan and run a hand through your hair. Your voice drops to a low hiss. "You want to talk about一about the kiss? Here?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, and his cheeks flush pink. He glances at Cody again and clears his throat, lowering his voice. "No, no, that's not what I meant."

"Oh."

"I mean, if you'd like to talk about that, we can. We should," he adds quickly. "But, that's not why I asked."

"Then, what did you mean?"

"Well, it's just that—”

A shout from one of the men draws both your attention, and you stand on the tip of your toes, trying to see what's going on. You can't quite make out what they're saying, but they're excited, their voices loud and eager.

"General, we found something," Cody shouts. He jogs over to you, and Obi-Wan steps forward, meeting him halfway. You follow after, trying to keep up, and you push down the unease that's rising in your chest.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asks.

Cody points down to another escape pod. Behind the glass lies a droid, frozen and lifeless. "Still intact."

"We'll interrogate it on the go," Obi-Wan says. The Commander gives a quick nod and signals the men, who move forward and begin to batter the glass with the ends of their rifles. He glances at you and offers a tight smile. "Well, at least we have something to work with."

"Yeah."

"Try to stay positive, my dear," Obi-Wan says. The glass shatters, and two troopers move to drag the droid out. It's disassembled and shoved into a pack within seconds, and the two of you give the order to the battalions to set off once more.

The landscape is barren and bleak, and the heat is oppressive. It's a stark contrast to the cold of space, and the wind blows your hair as the AT-TE rumbles along.

You stare at the horizon, hoping that, maybe, you'll see the other team, but the sight does nothing to ease your anxiety. The weight of your armor feels heavier than usual, and your body is aching, your muscles tense and sore.

Your gaze drifts down to the ground, and you can't shake the feeling of dread that's beginning to creep over you. It's the same feeling from Felucia, from Geonosis and from a dozen other battles. A touch of something at the back of your mind, a faint ripple in the Force that threatens to pull you under.

You close your eyes, and you let out a slow breath. You don't need the Force to tell you something is wrong. Your instincts are more than enough, and right now, they're screaming at you.

"Perhaps we should split up," you suggest suddenly, opening your eyes and turning to Obi-Wan.

"Split up?" he repeats, his eyebrows arching. He looks amused, but there's a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, and his brow furrows. "Whatever for?"

"We could cover more ground that way," you say, trying to keep your voice light. You shrug and turn away from him, your eyes on the horizon. "A small team could move faster. More discreet."

"I suppose that's true," he muses, but his tone is dubious. "But, I don't want to risk一"

"Risk what?" you press. You look at him, and his lips press together, his expression tight. "It's not a terrible idea, and you know it. We're running out of time."

"I know," he says with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. I'll take the western sector, and you take a squad to the east."

"Understood," you say. Your shoulders slump with relief, and you offer him a smile. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

He nods and smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's a tension in the lines around his mouth, and you can feel his worry.

"Just, please, be careful," he warns. "Don't take any unnecessary risks. And if you encounter General Grievous, do not engage. Understood?"

"Yes, yes," you say, waving a hand dismissively. You leap off the walker and land, dirt flying up around your boots. You cup a hand around your mouth to shout up at him. "I'll see you soon!”

"Make sure you're not followed!"

"I'm not a complete idiot," you mutter under your breath, and you glance back to see Obi-Wan watching you, his arms crossed over his chest. You know he heard you, and you can feel his frustration through the Force.

You consider giving a rude gesture, but you salute instead, and he shakes his head, his expression resigned. You smirk and turn around, looking for a familiar pair in blue armor. 

"Fives, Echo, you're with me. The rest of you, go with General Kenobi. We'll rendezvous at dusk."

The men nod and move off, leaving you alone with the two troopers. They're standing at attention and waiting for your orders, their rifles at the ready.

"Let's move."

"Sir," Fives starts, and he gestures at the walker lumbering past you. "Wouldn't it be easier if we stayed with the main group?"

"Maybe," you admit, and Echo tilts his head.

"Then why send them away?" he asks, confused. "This isn't a stealth mission."

"Because we have a better chance of finding the General if we split up," you explain. "And I can't just sit still and do nothing. We're running out of time, and every minute we waste is a minute Grievous could be getting farther away."

"Fair point," Fives says. He lets out a long sigh, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, where to, sir?"

"We're going to search the eastern sector," you tell him. "Stay close, and keep your eyes peeled."

"Yes, sir," he replies, and Echo nods his agreement.

You head off in the opposite direction of Obi-Wan and his men, and you're glad to have some distance between the two of you. It's easier to think when he's not hovering nearby. You can't deny that his concern is touching, but it's also distracting, and, right now, you need to focus. Besides, the sooner you find Grievous, the better.

You keep a brisk pace as you walk, the sun beating down on your shoulders. The landscape is flat, and the horizon is a blurry, shimmering line through the strange-shaped plants jutting up from the ground around you. You can feel the sweat trickling down your spine, the dust sticking to your skin, and the tension knotted in your muscles.

You manage to come across another pod, but just like the rest, it's empty, smashed to bits, and there's no sign of the occupants. You let out a frustrated huff and continue on your way. You're not sure how far you've walked or how long you've been moving, but the sun is starting to dip low on the horizon, and your body is starting to tire, the worry gnawing at you. You know Rex and the men can handle themselves, but the longer they're out of contact, and the longer you don't know where Grievous is, the more anxious you're becoming.

The only thing you can do is keep moving forward, and so you do, Fives and Echo at your heels. The heat is finally fading, and the breeze is beginning to pick up, the air filled with the sound of chirping bugs and the rustle of leaves.

"It's quiet," Echo observes, an edge to his voice. "Too quiet."

"That's a good thing," Fives counters, and his helmet tilts, his gaze scanning the horizon. "Quiet means easy. We can handle easy."

"Something tells me easy isn't in the cards for us today," Echo mutters.

"Hey," Fives laughs, "don't be such a pessimist. We can handle whatever this place throws at us. Right, sir?"

"Right," you say absentmindedly as you scan the area for any signs of life. But, everything seems calm, and you let out a deep breath, trying to shake the anxiety from your mind.

"Well, it's certainly not the worst place we've been," Echo sighs, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. "Remember Dorin?"

"How could I forget?" Fives groans. "Ugh, the fog. And the mud. And the giant worms."

"And the slime," Echo adds, and the two of them laugh.

"You're both lucky," you chime in, shaking your head. "I missed all the fun trying to keep Obi-Wan and Anakin from killing each other."

"Trust me," Fives says. "You weren't missing much."

"The swamp planet, however," Echo points out. "That was a disaster."

"Oh, yeah," Fives groans. "We all got sick, didn't we? Well, except for Rex."

"He always was immune to the worst of it," Echo chuckles. 

The mention of Rex's name catches your attention, and you look back at the two of them over your shoulder. It's been months since you've seen him, and even longer since the two of you were alone. You miss him. And his laugh. And his smile.

"Is that so?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. You tilt your head, and your voice takes on a teasing tone. "Immune to what, exactly?"

"Everything," Fives says. "Nothing ever fazes him. He's tough, that one. Always has been."

"That's why they made him captain," Fives adds, pride clear in his voice. "He's the best we have. No one's better suited for the job. After he saved some Jedi during the first battle on Geonosis, they gave him the 501st, and there was no turning back."

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you nearly trip over a root snaking along the ground in front of you. You quickly regain your footing and try to ignore the way your stomach twists into knots. There's a strange mix of pride and guilt welling up inside you, and your throat tightens.

"Really?" you say, trying to sound casual. You keep your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Fives replies. "Some crazy, reckless Jedi who was too stubborn to listen to reason."

"Sounds familiar," Echo says dryly, but you ignore the quip, suddenly overcome with the need to know more. Rex had let on very little about how he felt the day he saved your life, and now here was your chance to get some answers. You slow your pace and glance back at the two men, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

"What happened?" you ask, and they glance at each other, clearly surprised by your sudden interest.

"Well," Fives starts. "He was supposed to stay put and man the ship for the retreat from the arena, but instead, he charged into the fray, taking on a horde of clankers by himself."

"Risky move," Echo comments, his tone appreciative, and Fives nods in agreement.

"Very," he agrees. "But, he pulled it off. He managed to save the Jedi's life and earn himself a promotion in the process."

"A Jedi?" you repeat. "Which one?"

"Don't know," Fives replies with a shrug. "Rex never told us."

"He said she was incredible," Echo offers. The feeling in your chest eases a little, turning into something else entirely, a strange mixture of regret and hope that you can't quite identify. "Told us she fought like a demon, and that he wouldn't have survived without her. She saved his life too."

"She must've been one hell of a fighter," Fives says.

"True," Echo agrees. "He has a lot of respect for her."

"Respect," Fives scoffs, and Echo shakes his head.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, vod," Fives says, nudging his elbow against Echo's side. "I think it’s more than that."

Echo nudges him back, hard, and Fives stumbles, hissing in pain. "Ow.”

"Sorry," Echo says. His tone is insincere, and Fives snorts, rubbing his side. "My hand slipped."

"Uh huh," Fives mutters. He steps closer to Echo and dips his head, lowering his voice. "I'm just saying, he's never talked about someone the way he talked about her. Ever."

Echo glances over in your direction, and his voice drops even lower, but not so low that you can't still hear them. "You can’t be serious. It's Rex."

"So? Rex can have feelings, can't he?"

"Of course, he can, but, come on, it's Rex," Echo repeats. "He's the most dedicated clone in the entire army. He'd never allow himself to be distracted like that."

"Who said anything about being distracted?" Fives retorts, his voice rising. "Don't tell me you didn't think the same thing."

"No, I didn't. And it's none of our business," Echo retorts sharply. He looks back over at you, and you quickly avert your gaze, pretending to be interested in a large conical bush. "Besides, even if Rex did have feelings for her 一 which he doesn't 一 it wouldn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because," Echo starts, and you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye, a strange, tight feeling in your chest as your heart races in anticipation of his words. "She's a Jedi. They're not allowed to have relationships."

You swallow hard and bite the inside of your cheek, and you turn away, focusing your gaze on the path ahead. A hollow pit forms in the center of your stomach, and the warmth drains from your body, replaced by a cold chill that makes your bones ache.

"So?" Fives argues. "That doesn't mean they can't."

"Yes, it does," Echo counters, his voice rising. He looks at you. "Right, sir?"

"Hm?" you mumble, turning around and pretending like you hadn't been holding your breath and listening to their entire conversation. You try to look like you have no idea what they're talking about, but it's a losing battle. You can't focus, not with all these thoughts swirling around in your mind. 

The two men are staring at you expectantly as the silence stretches on, and you can feel their eyes boring into you. You shift your weight, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "What was the question?"

"You know," Echo presses. "About the rules."

"The rules?"

"The Jedi code," Fives clarifies, and you let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, that." Your hands twist behind your back, and your palms are sweaty as you struggle to maintain your composure. Forcing the words out takes all the effort you can muster. "Um, yes. That's correct. Jedi are forbidden from developing attachments."

"See?" Echo says, his voice smug. He turns to Fives and folds his arms across his chest. "I told you."

"Okay, okay," Fives concedes. "I was just saying, that's all."

"Well, don't," Echo warns. "It's rude."

"Fine," Fives sighs. He looks back at you and dips his helmet apologetically. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," you tell him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, even though your heart is pounding and your head is swimming.

Fives is wrong, of course. He has to be. It's ridiculous to think that Rex would be interested in you in that way. The two of you are friends, and that's all you'll ever be. It's a miracle that you're even that, after everything that's happened.

It doesn't make sense. None of it does. The very idea is preposterous. 

But...if it's true...what then? Would he ever act on his feelings? Would you? And if you did...what would happen? Where would you go from there? 

It's not like you could have a normal relationship, not that you even know what that feels like. Not to mention the fact that it's illegal. And frowned upon. Very frowned upon.

And yet...

"Sir," a voice crackles on your comm, startling you out of your thoughts. For a moment, you're staggered with a wave of relief, but then you realize that it's not Rex, but Jesse that's speaking. "We're on our way back. No sign of Grievous."

"Where's Rex?" you demand, the question tumbling out before you can stop yourself. Your grip tightens on the device, and you can feel your pulse quickening.

There's a pause, and the line crackles with static.

"Rex was injured, sir," Jesse reports.

Your stomach lurches, and your legs are suddenly unsteady, threatening to buckle beneath you. There's a cold pit in the bottom of your stomach and a lump in your throat as the blood drains from your face, and your hand shakes as you lift your comm back up.

This was what you were afraid of. You should've never let him go without you. This is all your fault.

"How bad?"

"He'll be fine," Jesse replies. "But we had to find him shelter for the night."

"What do you mean?" you snap. "Jesse, what happened?"

"A sniper took a potshot at us," he explains, and there's a grimace in his voice. "The Captain got hit."

"Where are you?" you press. You can hear your pulse thudding in your ears, and your voice is rising as you fight to keep yourself calm. "I'm coming."

"No, sir," Jesse argues. "We're on our way to reconvene with the rest of the unit. We're close. Rex is fine. He's just resting."

"Resting," you repeat numbly. "Jesse一"

"We'll see you soon," he cuts you off. "Don't worry. The Captain will be fine."

"He'd better be," you mutter as you close the channel. The two men are still staring at you expectantly, and you take a deep breath, trying to get your emotions under control. You can't afford to lose it, not now. Not when Rex is counting on you.

"He'll be fine," Echo assures you. His hand rests on your shoulder and squeezes gently. "We've been through worse."

"Of course he will," Fives agrees, his tone light. "He's the Captain. Nothing can take him down."

"You're right," you murmur, and you take another deep breath. "Thank you."

"Of course," Echo says. "Just try not to worry, sir. Rex can handle himself."

"Yeah," you sigh. "I know. It's just...this whole mission has been a fucking mess."

"Aren't they always?" Fives laughs. "You gotta learn to roll with it."

"I'll try," you say.

"Come on," he says, gesturing towards the horizon. "Let's get going before we lose the light."

You nod and start moving again, and the two of them fall into step at your side. The rest of the journey back is tense and quiet. You can't get the thought of Rex lying somewhere hurt and alone out of your mind, and the guilt is threatening to consume you. If he hadn't been out there on your orders, if you'd stayed together, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. You should've known better, should've anticipated the danger, should've protected him.

It's your fault that he's injured, and that knowledge eats at you.

By the time you return to Obi-Wan's position on the western front, the battle has already begun. You can hear the sound of canons and blaster fire, and the ground is trembling under your feet. There’s a downed escape pod surrounded by swaths of droids, and you can see the glint of green and blue lightsabers in the hands of the looming figure in front of it. It appears Obi-Wan has found Grievous after all, and he’s closing in quickly.

"Looks like they've started without us," you observe wryly, and the two troopers glance at each other, amused, before nodding in agreement.

"So, what's the plan, sir?" Fives asks. "Do we rush in and save the day?"

"Something like that," you reply, and he lets out a low whistle, his posture relaxing slightly, his helmet cocked to the side.

"Sounds like my kind of fun," he says, and Echo nods his agreement.

"Stay behind me and stick close," you order. “We’re not letting him get away this time.”

The two men nod and you draw your lightsaber, igniting the blade with a sharp hiss. The three of you begin running, your pace quickening as the sounds of the battle grow louder, and the smell of ozone fills the air. 

When the scene comes into view, it's an absolute disaster. There are pieces of droids everywhere, and the wreckage from the crashed ship is scattered around the base of the cliff. The walkers are firing their cannons, and the blaster bolts are flying thick and fast, ricocheting off the rocks and sending sparks shooting up into the sky. 

You'd hoped to see Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase among the men, but they're nowhere in sight. Still, the 212th and the remainder of the 501st is holding its own, and for once, you’re optimistic that this is a fight you can win. If you can get close enough to Grievous, he'll fall, and the rest will scatter like the rats they are.

Obi-Wan is poised on the bow of a walker, deflecting blaster fire with ease. You catch his eye and gesture to Fives and Echo to stay close, and you leap up to join him on the top of the vehicle, landing beside him with a soft thud. 

"Nice of you to join us," Obi-Wan quips, his attention shifting from the battle to you. When he sees your expression, his brows knit together. "Everything alright?"

"Peachy," you mutter. Your lightsabers ignite, and you deflect a blaster bolt that comes too close for comfort. "Sorry we're late.”

He stares at you for a beat longer. It’s obvious that he can feel the worry coursing through you. He knows something is wrong. He always does. But, this is a conversation that can wait. Grievous is the priority, and, as usual, Obi-Wan seems to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves.

"No apology necessary," he says gently. "Though it would seem our dear General Grievous is in a bit of a hurry to leave. It's rather rude of him not to say goodbye."

"Oh, I think we can persuade him to stick around," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips, and Obi-Wan returns it with a smirk of his own.

"My thoughts exactly," he agrees.

The two of you move as one, jumping off the walker and racing towards the group of droids, deflecting their bolts and slicing them to pieces as you go. You split off to the right with Fives and Echo flanking you, and, together, the three of you cut a path through the sea of metal bodies, heading straight for Grievous. 

Obi-Wan takes the opposite direction, and you can hear his lightsaber humming as he makes short work of the droids in his path. The walkers are firing steadily now, the sound deafening, and the explosions rock the ground beneath your feet. 

The Republic has the upper hand here, but Grievous is a formidable opponent. If you want to win, you'll have to bring the fight to him. And, you know that's exactly what he wants. He's a tactician at heart, and he knows when to retreat, which means you have to push him, and quickly. It's risky, but you don't have much of a choice.

You keep moving, not stopping for a moment. A blaster bolt glances off the side of your armor, and the impact is enough to send you reeling, but Echo’s hand on your back keeps you upright. You surge forward, determined to reach Grievous and end this battle once and for all. There are more than enough troops to keep the droids distracted, and they've begun pushing them back, using the cover fire from the AT-TEs to drive the clankers towards the cliff.

“Sir! We can take him!" Fives yells over the din of battle as you throw your shoto, the blade embedding in a nearby droid. 

When you turn and pull it back into your hand, you can see him pointing at Grievous, and you nod sharply. It's the best plan you've got. 

Grievous is still standing in front of the pod, his body hunched over, his cape fluttering in the wind. You can feel his rage as he stares at you, his yellow eyes piercing through you. The flash of his stolen lightsabers makes you grit your teeth in anger as you race forward, Echo and Fives at your heels, the blaster fire whizzing past your ears, and your heart thumping in your chest.

A ship buzzes overhead, and you look up to see a transport attempting to land behind enemy lines. There's no doubt that the droids are attempting to extract Grievous, and you know the opportunity is too good to pass up. If you can cut them off, then you can end the battle, and capture the Separatist leader.

"Concentrate your fire on that ship!" Obi-Wan orders, and you repeat the command to your men. The walkers adjust their aim, and the cannons pound away, narrowly missing the hull.

"We can't let him get away!" you shout. "Keep pushing!"

Fives and Echo grunt their acknowledgement, and the three of you continue charging towards Grievous, your lightsabers whirling around you. You can hear the men shouting, their voices muffled by their helmets, and the blaster fire is a constant buzz in the air. The sound is punctuated by the explosions, and the dirt is being thrown up around you as the walkers blast the droids.

"Sir, that ship's coming around for another landing attempt," Jesse says in your ear, and your eyes flit back up to the sky, searching for the enemy vessel. You find it easily and curse under your breath when you realize it's too far away to hit with the cannons.

"Keep firing," Obi-Wan commands from behind you. "Don't let that ship land."

You glance back at him. You're closer to Grievous than he is, and you can't pass up the opportunity. If the cyborg manages to escape, then it's over, and you'll be damned if you're going to let that happen again.

"I'm on it," you say into your comm.

"What? No, wait," Obi-Wan protests, but you're already running, your eyes fixed on the ship. “Wait!”

"Sir, where are you going?!" Fives calls after you, and you can hear him and Echo struggling to keep up.

"Taking care of Grievous!" you shout. You launch yourself over the bodies of fallen droids and the wreckage of their machines, the Force pushing you forward. The air crackles with energy, and you can feel the adrenaline surging through you as you jump, twisting your body to avoid the blaster bolts streaking past you.

You hear the men shouting behind you, but the sound is distant. The only thing that matters is catching Grievous. You're not going to let him slip away. Not this time. Not ever.

Your blades sing through the air, and he turns just in time to deflect the blow. His mechanical breathing rattles through the air, and his yellow eyes glow menacingly as he leers down at you, the lightsabers in his hands hissing and crackling with energy. 

He's a mountain of metal and wires, his claws curling into fists as he swings one of the weapons at your head, but you're ready for him, and you duck beneath the blow. You bring your lightsaber up in a wide arc and manage to score a glancing hit on his leg, and the metal sizzles as the blade cuts through it, sending sparks flying.

Grievous roars, and he descends on you with a flurry of blows that leave you reeling, but you're able to parry each one, the blades singing as they clash against each other. Your arms are shaking from the effort, and you can feel the strain in your muscles.

Obi-Wan barks another order over the comm, but you don't listen, too focused on the fight. The transport is closing in above you, and you watch as a rope descends from the open hatch and falls towards Grievous. You know you have only seconds before he's gone, and you have to act fast. Your lightsabers twirl, and you block his next strike, but he lashes out with an unarmed claw as you do.

A yelp of pain escapes your throat as the razor-sharp points rake across your arm, catching underneath your plate and ripping it off your shoulder. The sudden movement throws you off balance, and the blow is enough to send you stumbling backwards, blood dripping down your arm. 

The sight of your own blood soaking through your white robe fills you with a new sense of urgency, and you can feel your rage bubbling up, threatening to consume you. The Jedi Code is the furthest thing from your mind, and, as your eyes lock on the Separatist general, all you can think about is ending him.

You raise your arms to block as he descends on you again, his lightsabers flashing through the air as he moves faster than any human should be able to. The pain in your shoulder is forgotten as you parry his attacks and counter with your own. The sounds of the battle fade away, and all you can hear is the roar of your pulse, and the crackle of his lightsabers as they slash through the air around you. 

After a particularly hard blow sends you stumbling, the cyborg takes the opportunity to appraise you, his yellow eyes narrowed as he studies you. His claws twitch as he looks you up and down, and a strange noise escapes him between labored breaths.

"Ah, I know you," Grievous croaks, and you realize the noise is laughter. "The angry little Jedi from the arena."

"What?" you hiss. Your hands grip the hilt of your lightsabers tightly, the muscles in your shoulders tensing. You feel like you're a spring coiled so tight that it's about to snap at any moment, and a shudder runs through you. "What did you just say?"

"Yes," he chuckles again. "You are the same. How amusing. Dooku will be pleased."

"What do you mean?" you ask, and your voice trembles with anger. You know he's trying to distract you, but you can't help yourself, desperate for any answers you can get.

"You are a fool," Grievous laughs, the sound echoing through the canyon. He raises his arms, his metal body towering over you. "If you knew what happened to your master, you would not be here."

"Tell me," you growl, taking a step forward. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting, but the words are lost in the haze of your rage, and the ringing in your ears drowns him out.

"Why would I tell you?" he sneers. "You are nothing."

His words hit you like a blaster bolt, and the anger burns hotter than the sun, consuming every thought in your mind. Your vision goes red, and your muscles tense as you let out a primal scream and charge, throwing yourself at him, your lightsabers swinging wildly.

It's a reckless move, and a stupid one, but it's all you can do. Your blades strike again and again, the sound deafening. You're barely aware of anything else. Not the blaster fire. Not the walkers. Not even Obi-Wan yelling. All you can focus on is Grievous, and the fury inside you.

"You are weak," he taunts, his voice low and gravelly. His words only make you angrier, and your body shakes as the emotions overwhelm you.

He blocks the next swing of your lightsaber, and the impact is enough to nearly knock the blade from your hand. You scramble to keep your grip, barely managing to hold onto it. You're panting now, your lungs burning, and sweat dripping down your brow.

"You will pay for what you've done," you snarl, and you raise the blades again. "For the lives you've taken."

“What about you?” he snarls, his mechanical breathing labored as he twirls his sabers. “Will you pay for the lives you've taken?"

His words stop you in your tracks, and, for a moment, the world seems to slow down around you. You feel like you're falling into the depths of an abyss, your mind spinning. You know he's toying with you, trying to provoke you, but the images from your past come rushing back faster than you can push them away. He can't possibly know...can he?

The sound of a cannon exploding nearby jerks you back to reality, and you look up and see the ship hovering just above Grievous. He’s staring at you, a sick satisfaction in his eyes. The rope has been lowered almost all the way now, and you can see the droids inside the transport waiting to haul him up.

"You will regret this day, Jedi," Grievous taunts, his eyes flitting to the transport. He knows he's won, and it's the last thing he'll say to you before he's gone, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his voice and the knowledge that he has answers you need.

The anger surges up inside you again, and, before you can think twice, your lightsaber is flying towards him. He barely manages to catch it with his own, and the blade skims the edge of his arm, slicing through the metal and causing the wires beneath to spark. Satisfaction floods you as the smell of burning wire fills the air, and his lightsaber drops to the ground with a thud.

A scream tears itself from his throat, and he lashes out with his other blade. You whirl and parry, but you’re not prepared for the hand that snaps out. Clawed fingers catch around your neck and lift you off the ground, and you kick and struggle, but his grip is like a vice. Grievous squeezes hard, and your lightsabers fall from your hands as your vision blurs and your lungs burn for air.

The pain is searing, and you can feel your pulse pounding in your head as he lifts you higher, until you're looking him straight in the eye. Your hands wrap around his wrist, trying to pull yourself free as your legs kick frantically, but it's no use. You try to call your lightsabers back to you with the Force, but he kicks them away, and the sound of them hitting the ground rings in your ears. 

Grievous lets out a wheezing laugh as he tightens his grip on your throat, and you gasp, your mouth open, desperate for air, your mind screaming in agony.

"This is where we part ways," he growls, and you can hear his mechanical breathing getting louder as his claws squeeze the last of the life from you.

“Leaving so soon?” 

Obi-Wan’s voice comes from behind you, and you can't turn to look, but you hear the hum of his lightsaber and see a flash of blue in the corner of your eye. Grievous roars and releases you, and you crumple to the ground, your body colliding painfully with the dirt.

You're gasping for air, your head swimming, and your vision blurred. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting orders, and the sound of a lightsaber clashing against another. The ground is shaking, and there are shouts and screams, but the world around you feels so far away.

When the haze finally clears from your mind, you look up to see Obi-Wan and Grievous locked in a duel, their lightsabers clashing in a fury. You can barely keep track of the two combatants as they circle each other, moving faster than should be possible, their blades a blur of light and color.

Obi-Wan is the best swordsman in the entire army, and he has more experience fighting the cyborg general than anyone else, but even he can't take on Grievous without help. If you want to win this fight, you need to get involved. You push yourself upright, trying to shake off the fog that has settled over your mind, and you search for your lightsabers, desperate to help, but they're nowhere to be found.

"Come on, come on," you mutter, turning back towards the battle.

"Sir!" 

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, lifting you up and away. You fight, trying to pull free, but the arms are unyielding. You struggle uselessly against them, the panic setting in as you watch the duel unfold. Obi-Wan is starting to tire now, and you can tell he won't last much longer, not without your help.

"Stop!" you cry out, and the sound is strangled and raspy. You can feel the bruises forming around your throat, and the pain is radiating down into your chest as you squirm and thrash. "Let go!"

"Calm down, sir!" the voice orders, and it takes you a moment to recognize Jesse. His helmet is pressed close to your ear, his voice strained with effort as he tries to keep a hold of you. "Calm down! It's me!"

"Jesse," you rasp.

"Yeah, it's me," he repeats. His grip loosens, but only slightly. "Don't move."

You can see the transport closing in now, and Grievous is backing away from the fight. He's retreating. It's the opening he needs, and Obi-Wan won't have a chance.

“Jesse, let me go.”

"What? Are you crazy?" Jesse demands. "You can't fight like this."

"I don't care!" you yell, and the volume of your own voice sends a shockwave of pain through you.

"Sir, I'm trying to help," he pleads, his grip tightening again, the armor pressing into your ribs.

"Jesse, let go!" you repeat, and your voice cracks. "Please!"

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he's going to refuse. But then, his hands release you, and the sudden change in position throws you off balance. You stagger, your hands flailing, and you're certain you're going to fall, but his arms steady you and hold you up.

"Thank you," you pant, and you can feel his eyes on you, even through the helmet.

"I hope you know what you're doing, sir," he sighs.

You both look up to see Grievous scaling the side of the downed escape pod, the transport hovering overhead. Obi-Wan is struggling to stand, his body hunched, his lightsaber dangling loosely in his hand.

The cyborg is still laughing, his metal frame glinting in the moonlight as he reaches for the rope, his claws wrapping around the end and pulling himself up. 

If you can buy Obi-Wan more time, stop Grievous from boarding the ship...you can still end this. This won't be for nothing. Rex won't have been hurt for nothing. None of it will have been for nothing. Not if you can take Grievous down before he can leave. It's the only way.

"Get back," you order Jesse, your voice dark. "Now."

"But, sir一"

"That's an order!"

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice flat.

Jesse releases you, and the relief is immediate. You can feel the cold air filling your lungs, and the weight has lifted from your chest, but the pain in your throat is still searing. Your hands tremble as you try to gather the Force around you, drawing on every ounce of strength left within.

You expand your mind, reaching out for the Force to guide your path, and you feel a jolt as you grasp onto the ship. You hold tight, focusing on keeping it in place, and the metal groans as it strains against the invisible bonds holding it there. The effort makes your head pound, but you ignore it, pouring everything you have into the movement.

"Sir," Jesse yells behind you, "what are you doing?"

"Something stupid," you grunt, wincing as a sharp pain lances through your skull. The strain is enormous, and you can feel your control slipping, your body shaking from the exertion, but you can't stop now. Obi-Wan is climbing up after Grievous, and if you could just hold the transport for a few more seconds...

The air around the vessel ripples, and the engine shudders. The ship is groaning under the strain of the Force pushing against it, and it's all you can do to hold the craft still, your heart pounding in your chest, the sweat running down your forehead, and the ache in your head growing by the second. Obi-Wan is halfway up the pod now, but Grievous is ascending, lifting higher into the air.

The ship begins to pull away, straining against the hold you have on it, the metal groaning and creaking as the engine whirs. Your body shakes as the ship rises a few meters, your grip slipping, your mind screaming in agony. 

You're struggling to stay conscious now, your vision blurred and the world around you beginning to spin, and you know you won't be able to maintain control much longer. The ship is too big, too heavy, and your head is pounding so hard you can barely think straight. But, you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting. You have to save the men. You have to save Obi-Wan. You have to一

Suddenly, the ship lurches, and the metal buckles. There's a loud popping sound, and you fall to your knees, the breath rushing out of your lungs as the weight of the vessel releases from your mind. The world is spinning, and your heart is hammering in your chest. And the ship...

The ship is flying away.

You watch through the fog in your mind as the ship rockets up into the sky, and the darkness swallows it whole. 

There's a moment of deafening silence as you realize what's happened, and then the crushing weight of defeat sets in. Grievous has escaped. Again. All of this was for nothing. You've failed.

"Sir?" Jesse asks gently, and you look up.

You meet his gaze through the visor of his helmet, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes and the lump rising in your throat. He places a hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but firm, and you let him lift you to your feet. Your head is spinning, and the nausea is creeping up the back of your throat, but you keep moving as Jesse guides you back toward the others.

"Is the General alright?" Fives calls as he and Echo rush towards you, their blasters raised and their heads turning back and forth, searching for threats.

"She's fine," Jesse replies curtly, his tone brooking no argument.

"I'm fine," you whisper, and the words taste like ash. You're far from fine. In fact, you're pretty sure this is the farthest thing from fine that you could possibly be. Grievous has escaped. Rex has been injured. Obi-Wan nearly died because of you. How can any of this be fine? How can it ever be okay again?

"Sir?" Fives says, concern bleeding through his voice modulator, and the sound makes your stomach twist into knots.

"We...we need to regroup. We...have to...the men..." you say weakly, and the exhaustion is beginning to creep in, the adrenaline fading and the pain taking its place. The words are a jumbled mess, and you're not even sure what you're trying to say, but the others nod their understanding.

"Sir, you're bleeding," Kix says as he comes running over with Hardcase close behind. His hands are immediately on your arm, his fingers probing the wound, and the pain makes your stomach clench. 

You wince, pulling away from him as best you can, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes again. You're not sure if it's the pain or the humiliation that's causing the burning sensation in your throat, but it doesn't matter, because both are making you want to disappear.

"I'm fine," you reply, the words coming out more harshly than intended, and Kix takes a step back, his hands raised in surrender. You know the injury is severe, but the sting of your pride is stronger. "Help the wounded."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think一"

"That's an order," you snap, and the medic flinches at the venom in your voice. "Do it."

"Yes, sir," he replies quietly, his tone resigned. "Just...take it easy. Please."

He nods to Hardcase and they hurry away. After another long look, Echo and Fives move off with them, leaving you alone with Jesse. You stand there for a moment, watching them, the shame and the anger mixing into a sickening cocktail that's making it difficult to breathe. 

You can feel the eyes of the other men on you, but you refuse to meet their gaze. They must hate you for failing them, for putting their lives in danger, for letting their brothers die. You don't deserve their concern. You don't deserve their care. You're a failure, and they deserve better.

"Sir," Jesse says quietly, and the guilt rises up in your chest, choking you. He shouldn't be worried about you. He should be worrying about the rest of the men, the men that are lying dead on the battlefield, the men that are going to die because of you. 

"Let me help you," he continues when you don't respond. He lifts his hand, showing your lightsabers clasped within it. You didn't even realize he had picked them up. "You're going to need these."

"Right," you mutter, taking the hilts from him, the metal cool and smooth against your palms. You look down at them for a moment before clipping them to your belt. "Thank you."

"Anytime, sir," he replies, his voice warm and comforting. "We should go check on the General. See if we can't help him and the men."

You nod, and the two of you set off towards the wreckage. The sounds of the battle have faded now, and the only things that remain are the moans of the wounded and the crackling of the fires burning across the field. The sight is one that's all too familiar to you, and you know you should be grateful that there are so few casualties, but the feeling of defeat is overwhelming.

Obi-Wan stands, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. You can tell by the way he's holding himself that he's exhausted and sore. Still, he turns when you approach, a small smile on his face. 

"Well done, my dear. Though, I have to admit, you gave me quite the scare."

The brush of emotion through the Force is almost overwhelming, and you have to fight back the urge to cry. He's not angry. He's not disappointed. He's just...relieved, proud even. It's enough to make you break down and sob right then and there, but you manage to hold yourself together. There will be time for that later.

"Thanks," you mutter. "You alright?"

"Just a bit banged up," he says with a shrug. "It'll pass. How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Like a complete and utter failure," you answer honestly, your voice catching in your throat. You force out a laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "But what else is new."

Obi-Wan's smile falters, and his gaze slides from you to Jesse, who's standing silently beside you. "Give us a minute, please."

"Of course, General," Jesse replies, saluting before walking off to join the others. 

You watch him go for a moment before turning back to Obi-Wan, and the tears threaten to spill over. You can feel his compassion, his concern, his love. It's enough to bring you to your knees. 

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asks softly.

"I...I failed. I should have一"

"Enough," he cuts you off, his voice firm but kind. "You did the right thing. It was a calculated risk, and it could have paid off, but sometimes that's just how things work out."

"But I...Rex. And the men. If something happens..."

"Stop," he orders, and his voice is hard, the compassion gone. "You're spiraling. Listen to me: we will find Grievous. We will capture him. We will win this war. And, we will do it together."

The certainty in his voice is enough to convince you, and, for a moment, you believe him. You feel the anger fade and the shame abate. You know he's right. You know you have to stop letting the failures eat at you. You have to learn to let go. You have to trust. 

"I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am."

"I know you are," he says gently. "And, I'm proud of you."

Obi-Wan steps closer, and he takes your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the scar on your forehead. His touch is soft and warm, and the contact is enough to make the tears fall. You look up at him, your gaze meeting his, and you know the emotion that passes between you is the same. "It will be alright. I promise."

"You can't promise that," you whisper.

"No," he replies, his voice low and his expression serious. "But I can try. We won't let him slip through our fingers. Not again."

The words are like a balm on your soul, and, for the first time since Rex was injured, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You nod, and Obi-Wan's smile returns, though it's tinged with sadness.

"Now, please go see a medic," he says. "You're bleeding everywhere."

"Right," you laugh, sniffing and wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Will do, General."

"Good," he replies. Obi-Wan drops his hands and turns to leave, but he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. "There is one more thing, though. I know I'm not your Master, and that's not my place, but I would advise caution."

"What?" you ask, confused, and Obi-Wan smiles sadly at you.

"I saw how you fought today. How you lost yourself to the rage. I felt it," he says softly, and the words are enough to send a shiver down your spine. "I know you don't want to hear it, but it's the truth, and I won't stand by and watch it destroy you again."

You stare at him for a moment, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Of course he noticed. He's always noticed. But, this is the first time in a long time he's said anything. "Obi-Wan..."

"Don't say anything. Just promise me you'll be careful," he says. "We can't lose you. I can’t lose you. Not to the dark."

"I promise," you reply, the words sticking in your throat.

"Good," he replies, his expression lightening. "Now, go get yourself checked out. Our pickup should arrive in the morning."

"Yes, sir," you reply, and the words come out more strongly than you feel. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, turning and striding away, the smile still on his lips.

You watch him for a moment before turning and looking across the battlefield. The fires are starting to die down now, and the moon hangs low in the sky. There's so much left to do, but, for the moment, you let yourself breathe, the air cool and sweet in your lungs.

You close your eyes and exhale, and then you start walking. You make your way across the field, your eyes searching for a familiar face. You see Cody in the distance, helping the men, but Rex is still nowhere to be found. Panic surges in your chest, but you take a deep breath and steady yourself, pushing the emotion away. It will do no good. You'll just have to trust that he'll return, safe and whole, when he's able.

As you walk, you pass the 501st. They're sitting in the dirt, their armor stained with dust and smoke, and their faces streaked with sweat. They're exhausted, but their morale is high. Fives is laughing with Hardcase, and Jesse is teasing Echo about the reg manual he keeps in his pocket. The sight fills you with warmth, and the tension eases from your body. Maybe you haven't failed. Not entirely.

"General!" Fives shouts as he catches sight of you. The others turn, and a chorus of greetings follows.

"Are you okay?"

"What's the word, sir?"

"Is General Kenobi alright?"

You blink, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught. They're all staring at you, their eyes full of hope and concern, and, suddenly, you feel like you might burst into tears again. Instead, you smile, and you count off the questions on your fingers. "He's fine, we should be out of here by morning, and yes, I'm okay. How are you all holding up?"

"Better than you, by the looks of it," Fives replies, and then grins. "Nice work with that ship. That was some crazy Force stuff. Very impressive."

"Oh, it was nothing," you mutter. You move your arm to rub the back of your neck, failing to consider the deep gash in your shoulder, and the pain explodes across your skin. You let out a sharp hiss and close your eyes, waiting for the wave of agony to pass. "Ow."

"That's definitely not nothing," Jesse says dryly, before he turns his head and cups a hand over the side of his mouth. "Kix! Get over here!"

"I'm fine," you insist, and you open your eyes, glaring at him. "I've been through worse."

"Yeah," Hardcase replies. "We know, sir. We were there."

You can't help but laugh at the comment. "Fair point. Okay, you got me. It hurts. A lot."

"No shit," Kix snorts as he approaches. He's carrying a bag full of supplies, and his expression is stern. He grabs onto your uninjured shoulder and guides you to a fallen log, gently forcing you to sit. "Can I take a look now, or are you going to keep arguing with me?"

"Fine," you grumble. "Go ahead."

He kneels beside you and sets the bag down. The others hover nearby, pretending not to watch as Kix helps you remove your damaged chestplate. Your vambraces and remaining pauldron come off next, and together, you pull off your bloodied white tunic. Kix cuts into the grey bodysuit you wear underneath, and his deft fingers begin to peel the torn fabric away from the wound. The motion sends a jolt of pain through you, and you can't stop the grimace that twists your mouth.

Your shoulder is a mess of torn flesh and blood. It's an ugly sight, and the wound burns as the cool air hits it. Kix presses a clean cloth to it, and you wince. 

"Damn. That looks painful."

"It is," you hiss through gritted teeth. "But not as bad as it looks."

"Of course not. That's why your face is white as a sheet," he huffs. He glances up at the others. "Can someone get me some water?"

Hardcase is off like a shot. You're sure he’s just as eager to be helpful as he is to be anywhere but near Kix. You're glad. You don't need any more witnesses to the humiliation of this moment. Still, there's no denying the fact that you need medical attention.

"You should have said something," Kix grumbles as he begins cleaning the wound, his movements slow and gentle. The medic does his best to keep his emotions in check, but the occasional wave of irritation washes over you. He's upset, he feels helpless, he doesn't like it. You don't either. "It's been hours."

"Sorry," you murmur. "I was worried more about the men."

"You're always worried about the men," he sighs. "We're clones. It's what we do."

"Not always," you protest. "You're people too. You matter."

"So do you," Kix says firmly. "You know that, right?"

You shrug and immediately regret it as the motion sends a sharp spike of pain through your arm. "It's just...the war...you can't 一 fuck, that hurts 一 it's hard."

"Yeah," he says softly. "It is. But that's all the more reason to take care of ourselves. We have to stick together."

You nod. "Right. Sorry."

Kix shakes his head and continues cleaning the wound. He's quiet now, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. The others are still close by, but they're keeping their distance. It's probably for the best. You don't want them to see the tears forming in your eyes.

"Rex is going to have my head," Kix mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. You blink and look down at him. His expression is grim, his mouth twisted in a line as he ties off the last of your stitches. "He told me to watch you."

"Where is he?" you ask. Your heart leaps into your throat as the thought that he might have died flits through your mind. "Is he一"

"He's alive," Kix says quickly. "He's stable."

"He's resting," Jesse adds. He's not looking at you, but there's a grimace on his face. "We left him on a farm nearby. Some local family agreed to take him in and look after him."

"Oh, good,” you reply softly as the relief washes over you. "What happened?"

"We were ambushed by commando droids," he says, his tone dark. "One of the bastards got the jump on the Captain. Shot him clean through the chest."

You nearly fall off the log in shock. "What?"

"He's fine," Jesse insists. "Kix fixed him up. It's just...well...it was touch and go for a minute."

"But he's fine," Kix repeats. "The shot missed his heart by a few inches."

"And the other wounds?" you ask quietly. Your head dips down, but you don't miss the way Fives and Echo glance at each other. There's something unspoken between them, but you don't dwell on it, too focused on Kix's answer.

"Minor. Mostly bruises from the crash," Kix replies. "Hold still."

"Sorry," you mutter. The relief is making you a little woozy. You'd been so worried about him, but he's going to be fine. Everything's going to be okay. You're still alive. You're all still alive.

For once, everything is going to be fine. The buzzing of the Force in the back of your mind, the one that has been growing ever since you left Coruscant, seems to settle and calm, and you find yourself letting out a long sigh.

"Thank you, Kix."

"What for?" he asks. He's wrapping a bacta patch over the freshly sutured wound now, his movements quick and practiced. "For saving his life?"

"Yeah," you answer. "And for taking care of me."

"That's my job," he huffs. "I don't need thanks for doing it."

"Well, thank you anyway," you insist. He nods, and you can't help but smile at the faint blush that colors his cheeks. "I mean it."

"Okay," Kix says gruffly. "Enough chit-chat. Let's get this bandaged up."

He pulls out a length of gauze and starts wrapping it around your arm. The bacta is working its magic already, and the pain has eased. You can feel the exhaustion starting to set in, and your eyelids are beginning to droop.

Without the pain and the anger, and the fear, to keep you going, you're starting to crash. You know you should probably eat something too. You can't remember the last time you ate anything. Was it yesterday? The day before? It's hard to tell anymore. The days have begun to blur together.

"How are the others?" you ask, trying to stay focused. "Any serious injuries?"

"Mostly minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing we can't handle," Kix replies. He ties off the gauze and sits back on his heels, surveying his handiwork. "There. All set. That should hold until we can get you back to the ship."

"Great," you sigh. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Kix says. He stands up and brushes the dirt off his knees, and then he picks up the bag of supplies and turns to the others. "Don't let her sleep until she's eaten."

"I'm right here," you grumble, though there's no heat behind the words. You know they're just trying to look out for you, and, right now, the care and concern feels surprisingly nice.

"Right," Jesse snorts. He leans over and taps you on the forehead. "You still with us?"

"Yeah," you sigh, rubbing your eyes. "I'm awake."

"Good," Kix says, nodding his approval. He turns and heads towards the nearest group of clones, stopping to tend to a wounded trooper on the way.

Hardcase returns a few moments later, and you manage to drink the canteen of water he brings you, though the liquid threatens to come back up. You fight the urge, forcing yourself to take deep, even breaths. The food isn't any better, and you struggle through a few bites of nutrition bar before giving up. The taste is too much for your stomach, and you can't bring yourself to eat any more.

The boys don't seem to notice. They're talking about the fight and what they hope will happen next, and their voices are a steady, calming rhythm in the background. They're safe. They're alive. And, right now, that's all that matters.

You sit there for a while, your head resting on the tree behind you, listening to the sound of the clones laughing and joking around, the tension and fear finally fading.

Your eyes grow heavier and heavier, the exhaustion pulling at your limbs and lulling you into a state of relaxation. You can't remember the last time you felt this calm, and it's a relief to finally let go. You let yourself sink into the warmth of the Force, the energy swirling around you and wrapping you in its embrace.

After a few minutes, the darkness of unconsciousness swallows you whole, and the world fades away.

You dream of golden fields, but this time, the sun is shining, and the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers. The wind is cool and gentle, the sound of children's laughter echoing through the trees. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and, for the first time, you let yourself feel hope.

thanks @lordofthenerds97 for beta-ing this chapter!

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[mothfables]

The Chain Sleeping Headcanons

i figured why the hell not haha

Time -this man snores like a goddamned horse -often the last to sleep, makes sure everyone else is doing alright first -would be the first to rise if not for Wild getting up to make breakfast -takes watch often. he’s been chewed out by Wars + the others for not waking whoever’s next many times -very rarely sleeps in

Legend -refuses to sleep on his back unless he absolutely has to (i.e. severely ill or injured) -prefers to sleep on his side, usually curled up, but will lie on his stomach if he feels safe enough -sleeps better with at least one other person with him, but is bad at asking for it -if he’s with Ravio there’s a chance he may sleep on his back, as he knows he’s safe with him -will drop off in a few minutes if his hair is played with -sleeps best curled against someone’s chest with his face tucked in their neck. it helps him feel safe

Twilight -either sleeps sprawled flat on his back or curled up like a wolf. no inbetween -has a habit of getting up and patrolling the camp/immediate area at random points during the night. does not matter if he’s in wolf or hylian form -also snores. usually in the ear of whoever’s closest to him

Sky -he’s never had the best relationship with sleep. this has been something he’s dealt with his entire life -it was bad enough as a kid but it’s only gotten worse the older he gets -some of it is prophetic dreams or other hero shit, the rest is good old sleep disorder -naps when he can get them -chronic sleep cuddler. once he has someone in his grasp he is not letting go. no one is sure if he’s even aware he does this. good for getting Legend to sleep

Warriors -can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position thanks to his time in the army -quick to sleep, quick to rise -usually sleeps flat on his back or curled around the nearest small body (or Time) -always has a weapon nearby

Wind -this kid alternates between alarmingly accurate starfish + octopus imitations -forming a habit of snoring. the prime suspect is Twilight -keeps a knife under his pillow

Hyrule -he sleeps best hidden away, like in a tree or cave -always has his sword nearby -he’s slowly learning to sleep with others nearby/trust others with keeping him safe as he sleeps

Wild -can go without sleep for days. this does not mean it’s healthy -if he goes long enough without sleep he crashes hard as soon as it’s safe to do so -rests best at a campfire or wherever there’s a bed. this doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t pass out anywhere -ready to get up and go whenever -tends to get up early to make breakfast

Four -either sleeps completely silently or says the weirdest shit. often sounds like fractured conversations between multiple people -similar to Wind in that he’ll wrap himself around the nearest person or contort himself into the weirdest positions. his blankets are never where they started in the morning -has occasionally been found on the opposite side of camp from where he went to sleep

[gatitties]

The truth

—Yandere!Bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)

—Summary: an accident makes you more aware of reality even though you already knew it, but what can someone like you do?

—Warnings: blood, kidnapping, obsession, toxic behaviors, harassment

I never thought this would go so far as to have five parts but... here we are! 🫣 (maybe this part is a bit long, srry)

@boycigs there you go!! 🫶🏻

Part one / Part two / Part three / Part four

You fumbled with the wall for the light switch, your tired eyes playing with you and making you almost trip over a blanket that had been thrown on the floor.

You yawned stretching your back, you had been working on some files that Kokonoi asked you to correct, you fell asleep without dinner and your stomach decided to wake you up at this time of night.

Luckily you had some leftovers from today's lunch, everyone had come to eat despite it being your 'day off', but since they had been busy with work more than usual lately, they couldn't spend as much time with you as they would like, although that didn't stop them from hiding cameras in your apartment to check that everything was okay from time to time.

A knock at the door made you frown, remembering the first time you met Sanzu. You walked slowly, expecting to run into him, or even one of the Haitani brothers who ran brothels near the area, it wouldn't be the first time they've come home drunk after a good night.

When you opened it, confusion flooded your face, there was no one there, not a note, nothing, you thought that maybe you were still too sleepy and you had hallucinated, or maybe it was some late-night teenager making a joke. You shrugged shutting to go back to your dinner, but before you knew it or could make a move something hit you in the back of the neck, knocking you unconscious, the last thing you saw was a few blurry faces, but none you knew in the slightest.

Panic, panic was the first thing Mochizuki experienced when he saw the recordings from the cameras installed in your house. He had to do a checkup the next morning and just seeing how careless they had been to let that trash kidnap you made his thoughts turn to disgust and guilt.

Not even five minutes after seeing that, all the executives were gathered in their meeting room, no matter where they were, they all got there instantly upon answering Mochi's call.

"And if I pause right here..." Mochi stopped the video just as two men lifted your unconscious body "this guy here, on his neck, his tattoo is from another band."

"Those bastards have been giving us so much trouble lately, I'm looking forward to seeing blood drain from their brains."

Sanzu slammed both hands on the table, completely irritated and concerned for your well-being, he was controlling his urge to go looking for you only because Mikey had remained silent with a blank stare throughout the entire meeting.

The Haitani brothers were already warming up to fight, Takeomi was mobilizing some men to search your apartment for clues while Koko and Kakucho were trying to find where your chip signal was. Yes, although unknown to you, they decided to insert a tracking chip into you a while ago just to know where you were when they couldn't be around.

The signal was bad, either because you were too far away from their location or because you were somewhere underground, which didn't help much. They were all probably on the verge of hysteria, the search wasn't going fast enough as they'd like and it only made their mood worse.

It took at least five days for them to come up with any solid leads to your whereabouts, the worst five days of their existence, the poor people or employees who will come across any of them probably aren't alive anymore. Mikey locked himself in and refused to come out unless they heard from you, he barely ate and his sleep schedule got even worse.

"Are you sure it's there?"

"Yes, several of our men have seen these guys with the same tattoo come and go, it doesn't appear to be their central base but it's hidden enough to carry out kidnappings."

Takeomi pointed to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, everyone mobilized to go there immediately, even Mikey and Kokonoi, who didn't usually get their hands dirty with this kind of work, decided to go.

As for you... it was confusing the first day you woke up, the feeling of a gun pointed at your head became familiar as did the ropes on your wrists and ankles. Your reaction upon seeing the criminals was to release an inaudible sigh, without fear or surprise, your state was neutral.

You knew it, you knew that sooner or later this was going to happen, as much as your guys will try to hide you from problems with other mafias, there are always some leaks, and playing with loved ones from enemy gangs is the easiest card to play to threaten. Although in this case they didn't even have time to issue a threat to Bonten when they had already been threatened by your kidnapping.

The following days were threats to your people to try to get information that could put Bonten in trouble, as well as planning to move to another of their hideouts, however you were unaware of most of the things that Bonten did, although you were their secretary, you were only in charge of planning schedules and correcting some superficial reports from Kokonoi, you were not much help to these scoundrels.

"Damn! I don't understand how they could have protected you so much if you're just a useless old woman, you're useless! Why the hell do those guys hold you in such high esteem...?"

In the outburst of anger as he took it out on you, the sound of his hand slamming into your cheek sounded as the door above fell off its hinges.

"Boss, we have a prob-!"

The eye of the man who was coming down the stairs was blown out thanks to a bullet, landing right between your feet, you closed your eyes and, no matter if you don't believe in any god or anything, you prayed, not for you, but for what all these people did not suffer such a painful death.

You knew what Bonten men were capable of, at first you thought you were exaggerating, but that was the truth and at times, it terrified you. You were terrified to think of all the lives that left this world just because of you, your boys were more than gangsters, more than just criminals, they were monsters looking for any excuse to kill, and you were that excuse.

You knew that there was nothing in this world that would make you reverse time to the point of not having helped that drunk guy at the door of your house, you knew that nothing would make all those men leave your side because of showing your kindness, you knew that no kind of therapy could help such rotten minds at this point, so you could only swallow, as scared as you were, as much as your legs trembled, you had chosen this path yourself and you had to accept it.

"Mom..."

Your breath quickened slightly as you felt Sanzu's cold hand resting on your cheek, you slowly opened your eyes to see pure relief reflected in his, ignoring the bloodstains on his clothes and face, and even ignoring the blood he was leaving on your face, you smiled at him.

"I'm fine guys, I'm… fine."

You had to swallow and avoid getting dizzy from the smell of oxide in the place, your memories are blurry when you try to remember when you left there, you remember seeing many practically mutilated bodies, a river of blood and many arms holding your body as if you were going to disintegrate at that precise moment.

After you were rescued, you spent at least two days in a hospital at Kokonoi's request to see that you didn't have any injuries, everyone turned to you with questions about how you were doing, especially mentally.

It became suffocating, the amount of attention you received after that event, made you understand that, from now on, you could not have a single moment for yourself, no matter the job, the time or the place, you will always have one of them on top of you to keep an eye on you.

It doesn't matter if you complain, the truth, which you had to accept once again, is that nothing but death could separate you from these men, because they were not willing to let you go, ever. But the worst of all is that you accepted it, you accepted your fate, a fate that was sealed a long time ago, you accepted that you lived with monsters, that you helped and treated horrible people like completely sane people, but, an ordinary person like you, no could change anything.

"How long until the cake is ready?"

"Don't be impatient Rin, it's only been in the oven for five minutes."

"That's already a long time..."

"Shut up, you're always so impatient!"

"Are you looking for a fight!?"

"Kakucho, could you...?"

A nod from him made you sigh in relief, breaking up the Haitani brothers' fight as you sat at the table with the others who were talking about random topics. You stared into your teacup, your blank stare imagining imaginary scenes of another lifestyle in the steaming liquid.

"Are you ok? You seem distracted."

You looked at Kokonoi, keeping your gaze off without focusing on his face, you nodded with a slight smile when you saw that everyone had shut up to look at you.

"Yeah, I just didn't sleep well today."

"We'll buy a new bed then."

"I did not mean that..."

And like many things in your current life, your opinion was thrown away just to bring you more 'comfort'. You had no power and that was the absolute truth, nothing could change at this point.

[vampiricgf]

KNUCKLE VELVET - LEON KENNEDY

SYNOPSIS... ❛ trapped in a rotting cathedral with a man more beast than human, with all the decayed promises of long ago. there's one rule of the world you're still certain of: pain will always be met with equal reward ❜

WARNINGS... blood, blood consumption, vampires, violence/bodily pain, choking, puncture wounds, kinda dubcon, mutual toxicity (they have a fucked up relationship), creampie, no prep, sacrilegious themes/loss of religion (I know damn well his ass is a lapsed catholic)

WORD COUNT... 2.5k+

˗ˏˋ kinktober masterlist ˎˊ˗

The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than god. - St. Teresa of Ávila

~

The human spirit possesses a remarkable ability to adapt. 

You stopped marking the passage of time long ago, it only served to drive you deeper into despair and slowly it became clear the only choice left was to make the best of being trapped inside the rotting cathedral that has become your “home”. 

So be it.

Things became less horrid between you two once that shift occurred, he was kinder, for one thing. Less bouts of intense fits of rage, although the ones that did occur were not remedied by your obedience which led you to believe it was less about you and more so to do with his continued frustration that there was no cure for what he was. During his melancholy episodes he allowed you more free reign, although only within this decrepit place. 

You suppose it would make sense that he would choose this place as a prison for you both. What you couldn’t understand, however, was his continued devotion to a deity that did not create him nor hold any love for him. 

“Leave,” he greeted you, slate colored eyes never even shifting to acknowledge your presence as your footfalls carried you into the altar area. It made you feel miffed that he couldn’t even properly rebuke your presence. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” you lie. He’s always here. Always in the shadow of this tabernacle when he’s not slipping into your makeshift bedroom, attempting to find a much different form of salvation. 

This place had clearly been quite resplendent once, but years of abandonment and neglect have reduced it largely to rubble. This main area of the cathedral was nothing more than a half cracked maw, sucking in the freezing night air through jagged stone teeth. 

“I can’t sleep.” You murmur, half confessional half excuse. 

You both know it’s another lie, his acknowledgement of your words coming as a bland, dismissive hmph. It was strange, to hate and revile a man so much yet also ache for him in the same breath, especially when he would move with all that silent, predatory grace into your room for the night. After what truly felt like years of isolation, you depended on him as your sole point of contact. No matter how unpleasant it was. 

When those eyes finally train on you, full of venom, it makes you briefly reconsider the act of seeking him out. Coming to him like this may have been a mistake, if you don’t tread carefully-

“You’re just as disgusting as you say I am.” He sneers from a broken, dust layered pew and you gape in response, shame flaring hot as a heated knife slid into your gut. “How many times have you called me a monster? Yet here you are, waltzing around looking for the monster to fuck you.” 

You were caught out, most likely by the superior sense of smell, much to your horror at the realization. But is it even really your fault, when he’s made you this way? He is all you have anymore. It’s blurry, even just trying to retrace the threads from the beginning to now, it feels like all you’ve ever known is these decaying stone walls and the equally decayed man in front of you. 

“That’s not what I want from you-”

“Then leave.” It's worse that there is no snarl in his voice, no passion in the command, he can’t even throw you another glare. You suddenly wish you had the nerve to hit him. He knows perfectly well that you can’t leave, you’ll never be able to leave. 

Your own lips curl up into a sneer, settling on something more effective then just raising a hand to him. “You’re nothing but a pathetic creature, not even a fucking monster. Just a dead man kneeling for a god that can’t hear you.” 

You don’t stop, not even as he rises to stand, every miniscule movement radiating aggression and anger. You don’t stop because it feels good, to hurt him even a fraction of the way he’s hurt you all this time, and the ugliness of it twines together with your arousal, twin snakes squirming in your belly. 

“You’re beyond pathetic, it’s why you do this, isn’t it? Keeping people in cages just to have even one person acknowledge you because you know god never will-”

The words die in your throat, replaced by a garbled sound of surprise as you're pushed back against a half rotted support beam, the hand at your throat feeling more like an iron band being tightened. The position itself was oddly intimate, that didn’t escape you as you caught the familiar smell of him, the absence of body heat and that shameful arousal spiked at the way his fangs became visible from how harsh his breathing was. He even kept the habit of manual breathing, despite not needing to. 

“Like you’re not the dog barking for attention.”

The stone floor suddenly at your back was roughly fractured in sharp contours, horribly uncomfortable but it didn’t matter to you. That needy, greedy part of you he’d nurtured all this time was too busy preening, even as you blinked tears out of your eyes from the breathtaking sensation of being laid out flat. You always forgot about his strength when so much time passed, but any display of violence from him whether great or small was thrilling to you in a peculiar, vile way. So was the pain. 

But despite the haze of lust, a noxious cloud swirling over your brain, a part of you was uncomfortably aware of your surroundings. Namely, what they meant. The look on his face was beyond dark, no longer blase in the face of your deliberate attempt to rile him up, his flaxen hair was haloed by the cracks of moonlight beaming from the crumbling ceiling. For a millisecond you swore he looked like the stained glass depictions of angels. 

“Not here.” You eek out between heaving breaths.

“What? Are you scared god will strike you down for it?” His voice dropped to a half whisper, dripping with mockery. 

You swallow thickly, noting how his eyes tracked the movement and the way his pupils had dilated so much only the thinnest ring of jewel blue was remotely visible. But there was no taking it back, you’d deliberately poked the proverbial bear and there's no way to ask for it’s claws to be retracted. 

In the tense quiet he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, the act so gentle, nearly loving, it almost worked to make you forget that you were nothing but a glorified meal and a thing to fuck. The faint stench of old blood curled in your nostrils brings you back into reality, knowing what it meant. 

His faux repentance was brought on by yet another killing. The same as it always is. 

It breaks your heart because it wasn’t always this way. In the beginning there was no death nor blood or violence, only an incredibly exciting affair with a strangely secretive yet tactile man that easily worked his way into your life, your heart. You hadn’t known then that this was what he really was. That this was what he was really promising you. 

That blood crusted hand glided down the column of your throat, making you flinch. You could tell by the hardening of his eyes that it was the wrong involuntary action to have, but there was nothing you could do. That same hand dipped below the neckline of your shirt to trace the curve of your breast before stilling just above your heart, wildly pounding like a bird frantically flapping its wings in a cage. 

“You’re always so scared.” His words almost sounded regretful. “You know I don’t mean it, right?”

“I don’t.” You hate the way it comes out, all whimpered, but it is the truth. For all his occasional sweetness, his nicety, it always wound back around to pain. A pain you got used to, tolerated, even sought out like you did tonight, but you could never be secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t or didn’t mean to harm you. 

He laughed then, a mad sound that ricocheted off the frigid, indifferent stone and made you flinch yet again. 

“You’re just as fucked up as I am, do you know that? Waltzing in, acting on your own desires then pretending you’re not. Pretending you don’t like this,” His words were coming out more rapidly, half crazed. “I could tear you to pieces, leave nothing but some parts, and there's nothing you could do about it.”

It was sick, how delighted he looked as you shrank back against the floor, but despite your own terror and disgust your defiant streak reared its head once more. 

“You won’t.” But you hardly sounded sure.

“Do you want to find out?”

You clenched your jaw, so tightly you could hear the internal sound of your teeth groaning from the pressure. It did very little to stop your trembling.

Too busy focused on trying to control your own body you failed to realize he was rearing back, icy hands moving up and down the contours of your body, subtly lifting the thin fabric of your shirt and pulling up the skirt you wore. A twisted, ugly delight washed over you, infinitely worse than the chill that bit at you from the night air, that your scathing back and forth had given you just what you wanted. 

Frantically you raised your hips, chasing after his hands, yelping as he yanked you down, scraping your back against the stone and lifting your legs up, resting them up on his shoulders as he fumbled with the waist of his own pants. Terror and excitement kept you cemented in place, eyes wide as you saw how erect he was in his own hands, thick and flushed tip beading precum that you felt smearing over your skin as he rubbed the head of his cock against you. You felt the sting, distantly, as you bit your lip in anticipation of fresh pain. 

As he roughly guided himself inside of you, the push much less than gentle, it caused you to struggle a bit, body not yet catching up to your brain and the tangles of pain, fear, arousal, and desire became too twisted to properly make out. You couldn’t help but cry out at the unprepared stretching, the way the girth of him forced your body to accommodate, but the way he fully slots inside calms you slightly, like some sort of soothing object. The familiar weight of him, sitting heavy against your slick walls, made your muscles finally relax, going a bit more limp beneath him as he leaned forward and pushed your knees to your chest. 

His movements started slow, once again the faintest whisper of gentleness leaking through, and you could hear his breaths getting ragged as your cunt immediately clamped down around him. When his movements picked up more vigor the back of your head scraped painfully against the stone, making you yelp as cool tears pooled in the shell of your ears after marking their trail down your cheeks. You hadn’t even been aware you were crying.

It hurt the same way it always did, bringing a pounding pain that flowed throughout your entire body, like your skin was stretched taut over a drum someone was beating relentlessly. It was raw, disgusting, being fucked against the floor like an animal as he bit and sucked at the tender flesh of your throat and chest, decorating you in a necklace of purple and red. A mockery of intimacy, but all the same it sustained you. Feeling his balls rest against your ass with each deep thrust, gasping his name in broken syllables, feeling his fingers slip down to dance over your throbbing clit: it was all a guarantee of survival. 

As you shift to lace your arms around his neck an aggressive sound rips its way past his lips, his pace becoming nonsensical and telling you he was rapidly coming close. All the discomfort made you arch your back, trying to escape the ground while at the same time providing him a deeper reach that brought you a burst of ecstasy, so strong you felt momentarily blind. That familiar jumble of pain and love muddled your mind as your helpless body clung to him, jostled like a ragdoll with every movement.

All this pain would be rewarded, there was solace in that.

With no space between you the scent of old iron returned, pairing with the smell of your own acrid sweat and his strands of golden hair tickling your cheek as he bit the side of your neck with intent this time. 

The wail that rang out against the vacant cathedral was more like a long, echoing scream of indiscernible origin as it bounced back at you, reverberated a thousand times over. It was an animalistic response to the searing, mind numbing pain of the small pinpricks that widened into gaping wounds as he forced his teeth through your flesh. Sobs leave you in spurts as you feel his teeth detach and his mouth latch onto the wound, prodding the sore edges with his tongue to encourage a greater flow of lifeblood. Your nails clawed at his back but to no avail, his pace never broke completely, your struggling only made his fingers circle your clit with even more determination as your cunt spasmed around him. 

It was strangely beautiful, feeling yourself coming completely undone and slipping away as your eyes rolled back, your lids fluttering in a way that only gave you choppy, discombobulated flashes of the world around you. The brief glimpses of the star dusted sky through the shattered ceiling were a comfort. The pain ebbed into the background, as if it had simply always existed and maybe it had. Faintly you could feel the wet, sticky warmth of your own blood sluicing down your neck, he’s always been a sloppy eater. 

It makes you crack a smile, delirious. Fucked out, bloody, grinning up at the sky as the beast devours you, doesn’t stop pumping inside you for even a moment, doesn’t stop groaning against your skin. A barbaric grotesquerie beneath the unsympathetic eye of the moon.

Though there is a kind of happiness in knowing the dance played out the same way it always does. That tomorrow you’ll wake up feeling sore, so sick to your stomach you’ll probably vomit, but alive. 

With that thought your muscles relax fully, feeling a different sort of warmth flooding your abdomen as his hips still, although still grinding against you like he just can’t stop himself from trying to fuck more of it inside you. 

Something shifts, but you’re no longer aware enough to catch it. 

To him, it’s always been a background thought that perhaps the suffering of an eternally damned existence may be less unbearable if you were also eternally present for it. Your body aches, your nervous system all wrung out and strung up, as he keeps drinking past his fill and past the point of no return.

You’ll wake much, much later than you anticipated and as not much more than a lesser fledgling beast but it does thrill him to think of your anguish, your biblical anger once you regain a sense of self and realize what’s become of you. 

What he’s done to you. 

But you have to understand the gift he’s giving you and you will, eventually.

All pain will be rewarded, in the end. Especially if it comes from a place of love.

[scaredycatwrites]

Quiet Comfort

Pairing: Morgie le fay x gn reader

Prompt: you were a victim of one of Uliana's outbursts and Morgie finds you in a quiet part of the courtyard and tries his best to comfort you. 

Warnings: accidental hitting, crying 

a/n: I love Uliana's character honestly so much but i just felt this was a cute idea, this is the first time i’ve posted a one shot so apologies if its badly written.

Word count: 1,851 words

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

Being a VK was fun most of the time, you and your friends would have fun pulling pranks, terrorising the other kids and causing mischief in general but of course it came with its issues. Uliana was a great friend, but she was prone to outbursts of frustration and anger, especially if someone bested her at something, and today happened to be one of those days where someone decided to test Uliana's patience when she was talking down to them. Now usually you and the rest of the VK's could calm her down after a while making her feel better by reminding her that she can get them back next time but she was not in the mood for that today.

“Uli, don't let it get to you, we can get them ten times worse next time.” You spoke attempting to comfort the sea witch. But she wasn't in the mood letting a growl leave her. “Not now Y/n I don't wanna hear your attempts at helping!” Morgie and the others watched as you attempted to calm her down knowing it was probably not the best idea. You looked at her before trying once more. “But Uli, it's not the end of the world, we can get that spoiled princess back I know we can!” The others knew the look Uliana wore well, she was frustrated and at her breaking point. Uliana then snapped. “Oh my god Y/n do you ever know when to stop talking!? Just shut up! I don't need to hear your pathetic attempt at comfort! I don't want your pity!” The sea witch exclaimed her tentacles flinging out in frustration to hit at anything she could around her, unintentionally smacking you as she did so. 

Most of the group backed up to let Uliana take her frustrations out on the surrounding area however Morgie was focused on the way you stood still for a moment as you put a hand on your face where the skin was turning a purplish red on the surrounding area of where Uliana's tentacle had caught your cheek. He could see the way your eyes threatened to spill tears and in a matter of seconds you seemed to excuse yourself mumbling an apology before doing a speed walk turned jog away from your friends. 

You made your way to one of the quieter courtyard areas of Merlin Academy and sat on one of the corner benches, soft sniffles turned to silent sobs, occasional hiccups leaving you while you let out your emotions. The truth was you'd been dealing with some other stuff and this was the last straw to set off your tears you'd been holding in for a few days. It was definitely needed but inconvenient that it happened during school hours, you'd be mortified if anyone saw you crying like this, it made you feel weak and vulnerable, something you were taught by your parents that villains should never be.

Your worst nightmare began as you heard the softest little. “Hey..” come from the entrance to the courtyard, you knew those steps and that voice anywhere. Morgie. You turned your head away trying to stop the little sobs and hiccups from leaving you, taking a shaky breath you stuttered out a broken. “G-go away M-morgie.. ‘m fine..” Morgie slowly made his way closer to the bench you had sat on and sat on the other side keeping distance between you for a moment. “You don't have to be fine, it wasn't exactly a nice situation to be in, I saw how she caught your face, that must've hurt, trust me I know she's caught me a bunch before.” He half joked trying to lighten your solemn mood. You appreciated the boy's words but still felt uncomfortable appearing so vulnerable. “Morgs I'm fine.. I'll put some ice on it or whatever.” You mumbled trying to hide the shaky tone but unfortunately for you Morgie could hear the shakiness. 

Morgie then shuffled a little closer to you on the bench placing a hand on your arm hesitantly which made you jump but you didn't move his hand away. “Y/n, you don't have to hide your emotions from me, I'm not gonna make fun of you, we're friends, I'm here for you.” You felt your heart ache slightly, it was difficult for you to be openly emotional due to your villainous upbringing and Morgie knew that pretty well having grown up in similar conditions yet he seemed so soft and gentle and kind with you all the time. “Morgie, why'd you come looking for me.. You know I would've been fine on my own.” You finally glanced at the boy next to you, your face tear stained and puffy from your crying, yet that didn’t seem to phase him all too much. Morgie slowly reached a hand up, using his thumb to wipe away any tears left, the gentle motion caused your cheeks to flush a faint shade of pink although it partially blended with the red tone of your skin from the crying which you were thankful for. “I know you say you would be ok on your own but i wanted to come and check in anyway, you mean a lot to me and i want you to be ok..” Morgie attempted to hide the faint blush on his cheeks as he confessed this to you.

Morgie let out a small hum, taking a breath as he spoke in a much softer tone than his usual excitable one. “You know, i thought you were very brave to try and help Uliana, you’re always positive about things which are hard to find in a villain, you’re kind Y/n, it’s hard to find that, even in those royal snobs.” His words made the corners of your mouth turn upwards ever so slightly producing a small smile. “Morgie.. You’re so sweet, I don’t understand why you are though, Uliana’s probably gonna kick me to the curb for trying too hard to be positive.” This caused Morgie to frown. “Not on my watch, besides you did nothing to warrant being kicked out of the group. Uliana is just having one of those days, it’s not your fault at all. I’m sure if we talk to her later she’ll probably be fine with you,she just needs to cool off.” You gently nodded and took a breath realising how silly you probably sounded worrying about being kicked out of your friend group. 

You hadn’t even realised that Morgies hand was still resting on your cheek until you felt yourself leaning into the touch. He seemed to continue the gentle rubbing motion with his thumb, no longer wiping away tears but just comforting you with the gentle touch. You let out a comforted hum as he stroked your cheek, the touch was so soothing, it felt intimate in a way but you didn’t want to assume anything about the way Morgie was being. The moment of gentle touch and quiet lasted for what felt like an eternity before Morgie spoke up. “Hey Y/n, i care about you, so much.” You let out a small laugh. “Is that so? I didn’t think that villains were supposed to care about anything.” Morgie smiled a little as he rolled his eyes. “Well if that's the case then maybe i’m not a total villain because i seriously care about you Y/n, like a lot.” You looked at Morgie not expecting him to be genuine but there was nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes. “Oh.. oh Morgie that’s so sweet of you.. I care about you too.. And I seriously appreciate how kind you’ve been to me.” 

Morgie gave a gentle nod as he felt his cheeks flush at your minor confession. “Well I'm glad we’re on the same page about caring for one another.” he half joked, causing you to snicker and nod. “Me too Morgs me too.. I should probably get to my dorm before I get seen by a bunch of snobby princesses, doubt we’d live down me being caught crying with my face in your hands.” This caused Morgie to laugh a little as he hesitated before letting go of your face and standing up. You also moved to stand up, missing the feeling of Morgie’s gentle touch on your cheeks. Morgie then gestured to you to begin walking which earnt an eyebrow raise from you. “Morgie le fay, are you offering to walk me to my dorm?” you teased playfully causing his face to flush pink and he begged you didn’t see, but you of course did. “Well.. um.. Yeah I just thought it would be the polite thing to do.” you let a giggle slip out as he explained himself. “And since when did you care about being polite?” Morgie then shrugged and smiled, beginning to walk off. “Hey if you don’t want me to, I can just let you go alone.” You shook your head quickly before doing a small jog to catch up to him. “I never said I didn't want you to.” This caused him to chuckle as you walked side by side in a comfortable silence for a few minutes towards the girls' dorms. “Thank you by the way.. For uh.. Coming to check on me, you didn’t have to do that.” you spoke up as you approached your room, unlocking your door, standing in the doorway for a moment. Morgie gave a small smile as he spoke in that soft tone once again. “Anytime Y/n, seriously if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask me.” you nodded gently leaning your head on the doorframe giving Morgie a lopsided smile. “The same goes for you Morgs, you can always come to me if you need anything, but if you tell the others about me crying don’t forget i know where your dorm is.” You half joked. Morgie shook his head. “I would never, I swear, VK’s honour.” He gave a silly salute making himself laugh and you giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow Morgie, get to your dorm safe.” Morgie then took your hand in his for a moment pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles causing your face to flush a bright pink. He bowed teasingly, chuckling. “I bid you goodnight dearest Y/n, sleep well and no more tears tonight or I shall have to return and you will soon tire of me doing this voice.” You laughed quietly at Morgies silly attempt at a princely voice shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Yes I will, your unroyal evilness.” you teased making him laugh in response before moving backwards into your room giving a gentle wave. “Goodnight Morgie, you dork, you should go before curfew.” “Ah of course, goodnight y/n, don’t miss me too much!” he chimed before you watched him head off closing the door giggling to yourself and shaking your head, a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as you thought about everything that happened and found yourself anticipating what might happen when you see Morgie again tomorrow. 

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

An: I hope you enjoy this, honestly I just wanted to write some Morgie stuff because the world could use more Morgie. This is my first time posting my writing so I'm a bit anxious about it.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Trial

I am back! With another drabble :D @spotaus are you ready friend :3

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As always. No beta. We die in drabble land with these!

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Dust holds unto Nightmare as Error and Dream discuss how to easiest get to the realm of the gods. Something about needing a large enough portal but worrying about the traces that will leave.

Dust isn’t paying it much attention. Why would he when he is holding his baby?

Dust nuzzles Nightmare as Nightmare hums happily to lean into his hold. Very comfortable.

Cross hums “I am honestly shocked Ink didn’t have anything to say about the whole… us holding him and stuff. Normally people who we tell get hung up on that.”

Killer snorts “I don’t think we matter that much to him.” he nods to Ink and Dust follows his sights. Blue and Ink are talking and Ink seems to just be staring at Blue. Now that he thinks about it Ink hadn’t seemed willing to look away from Blue at all and- oh.

Dust tilts his skull “Since when does Ink have a crush on Blue?” he couldn’t remember ever noticing this behaviour in battle “Wait since when can Ink develop feelings without a soul.” Did he gain a soul somehow?

Horror shrugs “Not our problem.”

Killer nods “True! Just means he is willing to help because Blue wants it. Which works for us.”

Nightmare hums as he watches “Good for Blue. He has been interested in Ink for a long time now.”

Dust blinks and looks at Nightmare “You are six. How the hell do you know that for sure?”

Nightmare looks up and tilts his adorable little skull “I used to be an empath? Blue is not subtle with his feelings that he feels. Honestly how dream missed it for so long is what really confuses me.”

Dust hums as he watches the interaction. Yeah now he thinks about it it does make sense with how they acted before.

Cross pulls a face “Damn… Blue needs better taste in man.”

Killer laughs “For real.”

Dust shrugs “He is probably moronsexual.” Which just causes killer to laugh even more and lean against him.

Horror nods and speaks deadpan “A terrible loss. As no one can pick who they find attractive.” Killer gasps between his laughing as Dust just lets the other lean on him.

Nightmare leans a bit closer and pats Killer’s shoulder.

Killer keeps snickering but nuzzles Nightmare “I am okay… I am okay.” more chuckles sneak out.

At least they gods finally decide how they would get to the right realm.

One teleport later and they are in the realm of the gods.

And Dust must admit. It is fucking unreal to see the people you killed in another life as gods. Some very weird DeJa’Vu right there.

Those gods are staring at him. Mostly at Nightmare.

Dust pulls him closer and nuzzles the skull. Let them stare. He will fight all of them before ever letting Nightmare go.

Cross is shadowing him very closely and Killer walks by his side. Both pretty much having the ‘go not even fucking try’ vibe going on around them.

Dream keeps looking anxiously over his shoulder to check on Nightmare too. Blue pulls him along by his arm as Ink remains right by Blue’s side as well. Reaper is leading them through the area towards a large castle.

Dust frowns “What is it with gods and castles?”

Killer snorts “Think he is compensation for something?”

Dust snorts as Cross shoots Killer a glare “Not in front of Nightmare Kill!”

Horror chuckles “He has heard worse when he was an adult.”

Cross sputters “Doesn’t mean we have to continue making comments like it with him near!” he huffs.

Killer laughs.

Dust smiles along with their joking but can’t help but stay focussed on the looks thrown their way. Specifically at Nightmare. Dust rubs Nightmare’s back and spine and Nightmare just leans into his hold. Trusting him with everything that makes Nightmare him.

And Dust will not let anyone harm him ever again.

The rest of the walk is mostly silent but they get to this giant golden hall.

Reaper does most of the talking and Dust isn’t paying nearly enough attention. No the thing he pays attention to is his Nightmare holds unto him tighter. How Nightmare’s soul beat tries to speed up but Dust manages to coax it back to calming down again.

Dust pays attention again as the god version of Asgore speaks “I see.” he leans back “Very small domains compared to what you both did before. Strange choice.”

Dream looks mostly relaxed as he answers “Well it was a lot of pressure! We both want to take it easy and relax for a while. A long while.” And he smiles.

Asgore nods as he taps his chin. Dust can’t help but note he has the same tells as the Asgore he knew. The same behaviour and way of speech. Dust can tell Asgore is thinking about something else than what they are talking about. Asgore is looking thoughtful as he shoots Nightmare looks.

Dust remembers the story of the children and holds Nightmare closer.

Asgore smiles “Interesting that you made four acolytes! Quite the accomplishment.”

Nightmare shoots him a glance before pushing closer to Dust. Dust makes sure his arms are tightly locked around him. His body feels ready. His magic is ready. Dust isn’t even sure for what but Cross explained long ago that their powers work with their instincts.

If his instincts are telling him to be ready he will be ready.

Asgore nods “It can be rather disbalancing.” He looks proud of his word play “To suddenly find yourself weaker and without powers. Making acolytes as a good way to make defences but there are better options.” He smiles and waves a hand out “Your fellow gods!”

Killer snorts and crosses his arms “Nah. Dream already offered this idea but we got this.”

Dust just keeps watching Asgore.

Asgore frowns “You think you four mortals can raise a god? You are mistaken. The best for him would be to reunite with his fellow gods and remain here. Where others cannot easily reach.”

Killer growls but Dream is faster “No! He is happy and safe where he is! He doesn’t need protection from this realm.” He smiles nervously “this is just to make sure everyone knows his new role and position on it.” he smiles brightly. “With that done. It is best we leave again I think. We don’t want to overstay.”

Asgore frowns “It wasn’t arequest or question. He will remain here to relearn his powers the safe way. The way it is intended.”

Reaper frowns “asgore. He isn’t from this realm. You don’t get to decide this over him. This is beyond this universe-”

Asgore glares “I have decided.”

Dust glares and speaks calmly “If you try to steal him from me. I will kill you.”

Silence.

Every god in this hall is quiet.

Asgore laughs loudly “Oh such hubris. You give a mortal just a small powerboost and he thinks he can fight gods.”

Ink and Dream give each other nervous looks. They should know after all. That Dust was able to fight them long before he got this powerboost.

Dust just keeps staring at Asgore “I will kill you.” He turns to Cross “Cross?”

Cross knows and is by his side right away and he carefully hands Nightmare over to Cross. Nightmare takes  atight hold on Cross but looks nervously back to Dust.

Dust looks at Cross “No one can get him.”

Cross grins and disappears from view.

Dust watches closely as Asgore sits up fully and looks around shocked. As Dust had thought. Cross’s invisibility isn’t as much just invisible but becoming fully unnoticeable from an outside force. Even the gods can’t locate him easily.

Asgore waves out a hand “find hi-”

Dust doesn’t wait and summons a blaster. Aimed at the king of gods.

Once again silence in the hall.

Dust glares “Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence.” He cracks his neck “You want him? either of them?” any of his family? “You will have to go through me first.”

Asgore just looks at the blaster curiously. Still looking bored before focussing on Dust himself. He smirks “Oh I see. You are his first picked acolyte. No wonder you feel as if you stand a chance. You amuse me mortal. Stand down and maybe you will still be allowed to visit your god.”

Dust makes the blaster load magic “Goodbye.” And he shoots.

Asgore sighs and dodges, clearly more out of amusement than actual worry. And the blast misses. That is okay. Dust hadn’t wanted to hit him right away, this is a warning shot.

The blast obliterates the crown and wall behind him. It keeps going and Dust can now see the sky through the other end of the tunnel of destroyed walls.

Asgore looks back before staring at Dust “You should not have been able to destroy that.”

Dust hums and readies another attack.

Something attacks him from the side but Horror is faster and blocks it with his axe before forcing the other god away with a quick move of his arm.

Horror huffs unimpressed as he is clearly ready.

Killer grins widely as he pulls out his knife “You are aware that we were the ones assisting Nightmare way back right? With almost daily fights against Dream, Blue and Ink? You know. Two being gods themselves? Back before we got our powers?” Killer grins widely and leans on Dust’s shoulders. “You really want to challenge our claim over our babybones?”

Asgore readies a bolt of lightning but an arrow hits his hand. Asgore glares over and Dream has another arrow aimed. Dream glares and doesn’t bother to say a word.

Asgore stops and sighs as he rubs his face “This is idiotic. Do you really want a multiple god fight?”

Dust huffs “Then we don’t do that. You vs me.” The implication of the end of the fight is implied. Not that Dust ever plans on honouring it. He fully trusts that if he is about to lose Killer will use his silver tongue to help cheat Dust to victory and Cross and Nightmare will escape with Error’s help.

Dust just needs to distract him.

Asgore frowns “And if you lose?”

Dust shrugs “You prove you would be better at protecting him.” Not that it would matter much.

Asgore laughs and looks amused “and if you win?”

Dust raises a brow “I prove that you are weaker and we are perfectly able to protect Nightmare.”

Not that the end conclusion will be different. The only honourable one amongst them is Cross and Cross is ready to cheat to protect those he cares about.

Asgore laughs and gets ready “Very well. Everyone. Step back.”

Dream shoots him a nervous look “Dust.”

Dust looks at Dream and winks with the eye not in view of Asgore. He glances at Error and dream seems to figure out the actual plan. He still looks unsure but nods and steps back “show him what for.”

Ink grins and cheers “Kick ass! I would be pissed if you can defeat me but not that guy!” he leans towards Blue “Hey Blue? Who was the big goat again and why is he important.”

Blue snorts and laughs as the other gods look insulted.

Dust grins. They should take Ink to places more often, the guy is a riot to have around. Dust walks forwards as the others back up to the side of the hall. Asgore looks smug as he readies his weapon.

Dust takes a deep breathe and lets it out. The electricity in his body and along his mana lines. It is still a lot but it will feel amazing to actually go all out in battle instead of the careful discharges he has done until now.

Asgore attacks with his trident and a bolt of lightning shoots out at him. Dust holds up a hand and lets the lightning strike him headon.

A moment passes. Then the charge turns from the bright cyan to a purple of his own magic as Dust takes the electricity offered to him and makes it his own.

Asgore looks shocked as Dust lets the tiny sparks of lightning go between his phalanges. Dust looks up and hums “spicy.” Then he puts his hand on his blaster. The blaster crackles with magic and electricity as Dust grins “My turn.”

The blaster shoots out the blast, now containing some of Asgore’s own magic and powers.

Asgore dodges again but the damage is much worse than his first blast did. Dust doesn’t bother to turn as he just turns his neck and skull to keep staring at Asgore “You were saying about us being too weak to take on gods?” his blaster loads another attack “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your bullshit.”

Asgore glares but seems to take him more seriously. Good. Dust hates it when others underestimate him.

Asgore throws more lightning and Dust just catches a few more bolts before taking the energy from those. Asgore frowns as he readies his own trident and blocks the blast send his way, even with blocking it still takes a chunk of his HP right out.

Asgore rushes him and Dust starts dodging the attacks. His body moves as he charges electricity to make sure to zap Asgore.

Dust smirks “Fascinating. Isn’t it? Aren’t you supposed to be like. The god of the sky or something? Shouldn’t you be able to handle electricity? Or.” He grabs his shoulders and channels the lightning right into Asgore. Electrocuting him “Or doesn’t lightning fall in your domain after all? just the sky that holds it? aren’t you mad about it? that a lowly mortal can so easily defeat you?” he makes sure to purr his sentence out. Rub extra salt into the wound.

He lets go of the giant and steps back to watch Asgore fall to his knees before him. His HP dangerously low. Dust readies a blaster and aims it at the so called king of gods “Done already?”

Asgore pants and glares at him but mumbles “fine… you win.”

Dust grins more “They can’t hear you…”

Asgore glares more but speaks louder with anger in his voice “Fine. You win. We. We won’t step in.”

Dust watches him before grinning “Much better.” he dispels his blaster and turns away. He hadn’t even needed to summon more than one blaster. Honestly why they called this guy the king of gods is beyond him. Nightmare could have defeated him back when he was still goop.

He joins his mates sides and Killer shoots him a look as he leans close “You look so hot when you fight. I barely could stop myself from throwing myself before you.” he has a grin on his face.

Dust raises a brow “Maybe at home.” For now he looks around and Cross appears. Cross has his own slight blush on his face as he hands Nightmare back before invading Dust’s personal space with a happy hum. Cross nuzzles Dust’s skull and neck with a happy hum.

He whispers “Killer is right… you are so hot when putting people in their place.”

Dust is starting to see a very fun evening ahead of him. A glance at Horror confirms he is three for three and Dust is even more impatient to get home.

Nightmare just looks at him with a grin “Knew you would defeat him easily.”

Error and Reaper talk a bit with Asgore and Dust can see Blue lean closer to Dream in shock “That is acolyte power?”

Dream shrugs “Apparently? I never met an acolyte before. I don’t know their rules.”

Ink meanwhile has wandered over to the destroyed walls as he picks up pieces to look at them. He grins back at Dream and Blue and rushes over before blabbering about how he could use this material and texture for stuff and if he can take it along. Blue shrugs while Dream laughs and tells him to ask the other gods. Ink cheerfully skips over to another god, who backs up from the skeleton, and asks them about the properties and if he can take a piece.

Huh.

Seems like Dust made quite the name for them. Especially with the only other skeletons they know to be gods of dead.

Dust probably made skeletons seem like terrifying creatures at this point. Which honestly? Probably for the best.

They end up leaving soon after. They are offered a meal but they politely decline. Mostly because they promised Life that they would join her for dinner after this trip.

They are walking back towards the spot to make the first one of a series of teleports as Dust hums “that could have gone better.”

Killer laughs “What? Could have finished it in one move or something?”

Dust nudges him “Not that. This was supposed to be a visit to get good standing with them and reintroduce Nightmare. I don’t think that all went well.” He just… the idea of these stupid gods who never helped Nightmare and never supported him taking him away from them? Dust got pissed.

Reaper shrugs “euh. It is fine. You proved that you won’t get scared away by anything and that you got the power to back you up.”

Dream looks worried “It is really fine? They won’t be a problem with Fate or Balance?”

Reaper nods “I am very sure it is safe. They will all prefer to seem like they supported you from the start over admitting you defeated them.”

Error nods “Those gods are obsessed with seeming perfect. They will just say how they were worried you would not be able to handle it and that they tested you. That they went easy to get an idea for your power. That you proved yourself worthy to defend Nightmare.”

Killer frowns “And Fate and Balance will be chill with it?”

Ink shrugs “Not exactly? But they will act that they are and not interfere… They like to appear put together and seem like they know everything. If they admit they didn’t see this coming they will have to admit they are not all knowing and they don’t like that.”

Reaper points at Ink “What he said. They know they won’t be able to just force Nightmare to change domains now without making a mess of a lot of things. And with you guys being more powerful than they probably expected they will be more nervous about stepping in. Even getting hurt or any of you getting one good hit will be a bad look on either of them because they are supposed to be untouchable.” Reaper grins “And you four already proved you aren’t afraid to go on the attack and you won’t be intimidated.”

Cross looks nervous “They already know?”

Dream shakes his skull “Not yet. But this information will spread. And eventually reach them. By then everyone will know about Nightmare’s new role and about what happened. They will be too late to force a change.”

Killer grins “So we are good right? it is over? We will be left alone now?” he looks hopeful.

Reaper shrugs “probably? We can only wait and see.”

Dream nods “I think it is looking good so far! They let me alone as soon as it became obvious everyone knew. I am very hopeful for this.”

Dust hopes it really is that easy.

They get to Life’s domain and are welcomed to the table which is covered with all kinds of delicious food. Dust relaxes in the safe area and helps Nightmare select some things to eat.

The meeting with reasonable well. Now there is just one meeting left to do and get over with. At least that should not get as aggressive. The council is never known to throw punches before talking after all.

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[ravencincaide]

Shhh -oh shit

Summary: You were not the kindest when someone disturbed you; especially when studying for finals. Or the time you shushed a talking bastard in the library's quiet section, not realizing who said ‘bastard’ was. 

Pairing: Student!reader x Chuuya Nakahara. 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 29: Texting/email 

Warnings: Cursing, random Chuuya fluff, minimal edits

Enjoy this little bit of sweetness~ 

Shh

You couldn’t understand how ignorant one had to be in order to speak on the phone in the library. How completely self absorbed to dare do it in the quiet section. Especially amidst final weeks- when it was crawling full of crying and desperate students who queued from the library's opening to the very last second before its closing. Studying reference literature, begging librarians to expedite archive requests just a little bit faster. Buying seniors notes and pleading for tutoring sessions.

“ If this is another goddamn attempt at wasting my time with your bloody stupidity….” the male voice carried loudly, cutting through the otherwise silent section of the library but for the gentle tipp-tapp of keyboard keys or barely hearable flickering of pages. In contrast to those monotone sounds, his voice boomed like thunder, completely breaking your concentration. With each syllable past his lips you could feel your understanding slipping away. 

Why no one said anything was beyond you. 

It was so bluntly obvious that this man was disturbing everyone in the surrounding area. Yet either he was oblivious enough not to see it, or self centered enough not to care. Neither of which sat well with you. As if to make matters worse, his voice grew louder and louder as he drew nearer, now it was not only the phone conversation that was disturbing you, but also the stomps of his feet against the carpet clad floor. “I’ll have you die.. I–” 

“ Shh!” you snapped, making a low, angry hiss towards the owner of the voice somewhere in the distance behind you. You saw the head of a student opposite you snap up and give you a quick, earnest grateful smile. However, that smile quickly faded as the student paled a sickly shade of white before he quickly snapped his head back down, staring at the study books in front of him. His reaction puzzled you, but the blessed silence made you ignore that fact in favour of your studies. 

However the peaceful silence did not last long. 

“ Goddamn it! I swear I’m going to kill you myself this time, you good for nothing, perverted, enemy of all—” 

Slamming your fist into the table you finally lost your patience, your voice, the ‘shh’ resonating through the area. An angry echo which bounced off the walls and furniture throughout the entire second floor of the library’s silent section; “Its a goddamn library so for crying out loud, can you shut the fuck— oh shit” you cut yourself off as your eyes landed on the man with the phone pressed to his ear. 

It was him; it couldn’t be- shouldn’t be, and yet it was. 

You would recognize that ginger hair and black coat anywhere. The piercing eyes which searched the sea of students before they landed onto you, and stared you down mockingly. The cocky grin which matched the handsome boyish expression. And that top hat, the most memorable goddamn top hat in the entire Yokohama. You had seen that hat, and the man it belonged to, in wanted posters and news segments all over Yokohama city. 

The long and loud media warnings to never engage or provoke him. The most dangerous and bloodthirsty member of Port Mafia; Nakahara Chuuya. 

And you had not only encountered him in the most mundane place in the entire city; but also shushed him; not once, not twice but an entire three times. That is without the curse-filled scolding you unknowingly send his way for his less than adequate library manners. In other words you were a deadman walking; a soon to be corpse which currently filled the barely-comfortable study spot. Judging by the annoyance edged onto his features, it was time for you to say your goodbyes and start digging your grave. Then again, your mind reminded you all too bitterly, if you failed the upcoming exams the humiliation, loss of income and homelessness you’d face, would make you wish you were dead. 

Instead of feigning ignorance or getting up and apologizing on your hands and knees, you stared back into his face with a scowl that matched his own. It was as if you challenged him to say something. Chuuya responded with a raised eyebrow. In that instant, your mind flickered between the ‘you’re gonna be brutally murdered or worse’ and ‘ holy hell the media did not do those gorgeous blue orbs justice.’ A part of you still couldn’t grasp the fact that you were actually seeing those eyes in real life. 

You were so, so fucked. 

That sentiment was reinforced as you saw the frown on his lips turn up into something almost morbid. Chuuya’s eyes ran up and down before he rolled his eyes as the voice in the phone demanded his attention, growing so loud you could almost distinguish what it was saying from such a distance; “ I’ll get back to you, slimeball” Chuuya stated midway through slamming the phone shut and slipping it into his pants pocket.

Then he advanced towards you.

You swallowed thickly, and fixed the ginger with an even firmer stare. Then you summoned what little bravery- or insanity- you had left in you; “ Listen with all due respect Nakahara-san your future is set for life; glory, terror and all that. While us pitiful students have our lives decided by the horrors of exams which are primarily out of our control so I kindly beg you, for the love of god and anything unholy; please be quiet.” 

Chuuya stopped in front of you; an unreadable expression on his face half shaded by the tophat.You swore he looked less menacing and more entertained than moments earlier- or was it your wishful thinking? No, there definitely was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of them; “ Whatever, fork over your phone” 

“My phone?” you asked in bewildered as you stared up at the man currently towering over you. 

At another glare, you quickly unlocked and surrendered the device to him. You watched him type something in before handing it back to you. Looking down at it, you noticed there was a new contact added in your list, listed under the simple initials NC. You glanced back up at him in question. 

The angry look was replaced by a boyish grin. To you it looked almost.. Flirty?!

 Chuuya pointed towards your phone with a gloved finger; “ I wanna know what kind of exams are scarier than a Mafia executive. Text this number when you’re done.”

Your eyes widened a little before you shook your head slightly. Your brain not able to comprehend what he was saying, your mind blanking out long enough for your mouth to speak before you had time to think; “ If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were hitting on me” you mumbled in disbelief earning yourself another cocky smirk. He really was?! 

 “ Nakahara-san I don’t think it’s–” 

“Shhh”  you heard another student hiss at you making you instantly grow silent. Before biting your lips in a feeble attempt to keep your expression neutral. You failed; the edges of your lips pulled up into a smile, barely containing the bubbly laughter readying to spill past your lips. Your expression remained  bewildered and a little shocked, while his expression remained cocky almost sweet yet so very confident. 

Who knew such a meeting could derive from a single word; a hissing of an annoyed student in the middle of the exam season in the libraries quiet section:  

Shh.

Author note: A little sweetness is what we all need some days. I hope this fic made you smile at least a little on this (very cold!) Sunday morning.

Like this? Check out Raven's Masterlist

[suw4]

Realisations and Apologies

Kita Shinsuke from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: just kita being mean. and woahhh no way? a new update? thats crazy. okay have fun reading. sorry if my writing is a little rusty

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

It is known for Kita Shinsuke to have a strict routine. No matter what obstacles he may encounter, he will never let it disturb his peace. However, there was an annoying bug that had been flying by his ear. Disturbing his line of work. Putting all of this strict timely routine to break. This greatly frustrates the dual haired wing spiker more than the irritating behaviours from the Miya twins.

[Name], a libero whom he met from the volleyball club at Junior High. Someone who he deeply cares for and who returns the same exact feelings towards him. Shinsuke was never the one to like people pitying him. That's another thing that he hates. However, with [Name], it never felt like that. It was like the light that guided his pathway to success. It was normal. Everything felt normal. Maybe that was the reason why he accepted the [h/c] haired's confession.

Unfortunately for the wing spiker, it was a terrible add-on to his routine. No, [Name] is not even in his routine at all. The libero would change Shinsuke's routine frequently. Often asking him out for a date. For practice. For anything. Even if it means to get a small chance to chat with his lover. [Name] only thoughts were that he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend. For Shinsuke, it was disturbing his peace. The dual haired male never thought it would. Ever. Yet, it did. And it was frustrating him more than it should.

Practice just ended, and everyone was walking out of the gymnasium to get home. "Suke~, let's go on a date tonight! What do you think? We should get dinner as well. I'm sure you're exhausted from using that amazing brain of yours for the team," [Name] chuckled, walking side by side with his lover. Reaching down to intertwine his fingers with his. Unexpectedly, Shinsuke yanked his arm away from the other, surprising him. He stared at him in shock, including with a few teammates who were watching from behind.

"Quit it," he blunty demanded before continuing his walk out of the gym. "Ah- Suke? Is something wrong-?"

"Yes. It's you. You're disrupting my routine. Every time you ask me out, you ruin it. So quit it. We have gone to enough dates now," he snapped back. [Name] was taken aback by his boyfriend's sudden change in behaviour. But he tries to laugh it off. "What am I then if I'm not asking you out ever so often?" he teased with a lighthearted laugh. Only get shut down immediately. Completely shut down.

"You're my boyfriend who couldn't do well in the sport that he loves," Suddenly there was ringing in [Name]'s ears. He was left speechless. Eyes widening at Shinsuke's words. The other members were shocked by that as well. That was the first time Shinsuke has ever belittled someone like that. To make it worse, he was talking about his own boyfriend.

"O-Oi, Kita. You can't talk about [Name] like that. He works harder than all of us," Aran called out to him, trying to stop these lovers before a quarrel starts. But it only seemed to add more oil to the fire. "And why is that? With your sloppy receives, there's a reason why you weren't cut out to be our regular libero. Akagi is better than you. You lack intelligence and plays. That's what makes you a bad player. Hence, Akagi is more talented in that area. You just exist to be an unsuccessful subtitute that will drag us down for future roads to nationals,"

A sense of dread filled [Name]'s whole body. Wondering why Shinsuke was saying all this. But it annoys him because it's true. After Junior High, [Name] could not bring out his full potential like he used to. He looks down to his arms, seeing all the red marks from receiving powerful spikes from Aran and the other wonderful hitters in the team. He stayed silent for a moment until another third year spoke up.

Akagi jolted when he heard his name being mentioned. Upon hearing what the team captian had said, he came to [Name]'s aid. "Kita! You shouldn't be harsh to [Name]! He genuinely works hard! Just like the rest of us. He always asks tips from me. He's pretty determined when it comes to his position!" he encouraged the [h/c] head. Patting his back as a way to say that he did well. "A substitute libero," the captian retorted.

"Are you saying that I'm not good enough for this team?" [Name] blurted out. Everyone seemed to visibly shake hearing that. Then, the substitute libero let out an exhilarated sigh. "You're right. I should've worked harder. Sorry, captain',"

"Also," Shinsuke started. Facing the front where the grym doors are. "I would like to break up with you. So please. Don't ever come to me again," he proposed. [Name] could only bite his lower lip harshly. "Woah, isn't that too much, Kita?" Suna furrowed his brows a little. Shinsuke actively ignores him and takes a step forward. Leaving everyone to go home.

The ones left in the gymnasium looked at [Name] in pity. All of them came to his side, trying to comfort him to their best. But [Name] could only brush it off. Pretending that it was one of Inarizaki's harsh critiques.

The very next day, it was lunch period. Both Shinsuke and Omimi were taking out their lunchboxes to eat in class. Omimi looked over to the other. "Are you not going to eat with [Name]? Usually, you two eat together somewhere quiet,"

"[Name] and I have separated," he replied, lifting the lid open. "So it's true then. You guys have broken up," he took a bite from his bento. "So I've heard from [Name]. I've also heard from coach that he had stepped down from volleyball. He said he would rather focus on his studies and that he wished us good luck for nationals,"

"Good for him,"

"Are you not surprised? You two may have broken up, but don't you still care about one another? He relies on you a lot,"

"I know that very well," that puts a tense atmosphere between them. Anyone else in the classroom would feel suffocated. Omimi stared at the other in disbelief. "I misjudged your character, Kita. I never knew you would be this heartless," That was the first time he was ever described by something so negative.

A week has passed and after school practice came around. Everything was going well. Except something was missing. Someone was missing. However, Shinsuke maintains his observation with his current team.

The coach entered the gymnasium with a piece of clothing draped over his arm. He let out a sigh and called the boys for a short meeting. He had informed them that one of the third years had stepped down. "As some of you realise, [Name] has stopped coming to practice. The reason is that he had decided to step down from the club. Due to him studying, he won't be able to be here and watch you guys play at Spring High. I'm just here to deliver a message from him. He only wishes all of you the best for the nationals," he announced. Aside from the boys being freaked out by it, Atsumu was the first one to speak up defensively. "What?! There's no way we can continue without [N/n]!! He's the only one who could receive this guy's spikes!" he argued, pointing at Suna with his thumb. Suna glared at him in return.

"Seriously, why the sudden leave? Is there another reason? He loves volleyball! It's so obvious that you could see it in his face," he continued to ramble on. The coach only shook his head, saying that there was no other reason. Though a few may think they knew the answer. But everything is alleged. The only true reason will come out once [Name] says it with his own mouth.

Everyone took notice of the clothing that their coach had. It was a jersey, freshly washed and dried. They read the number on it. Number 16. The number that [Name] wore. For some reason, that made everyone's heart feel heavy. While a certain someone felt extremely guilty.

There Shinsuke was. Standing in front of his ex-boyfriend's house. It has come to a realisation how [Name] would rarely allow him to get into his house. He has been there once. Never been there again. It felt a little foreign for the male. But that's not the main reason why he's there.

He stepped forward and gave a couple of knocks. Footsteps came fading it, making blood rush through his body. A little tinge of hope that the [h/c] head would answer. The door clicked, and a long screech sounded. It wasn't [Name] who answered the door, but his father.

"Kita Shinsuke? What are you doing here?" the male asked with a raised brow. "Is [Name] home?" he took a bow before asking. "Yes. He is. Studying his in his room. I'm so glad he stepped down from volleyball. Surely, who wants their son to go through something he can't do? Sure, he used to be a prodigy, but it's better if he focused on his studies. I'm also glad that you were able to get him to leave that club. How did you do it?" he smiled, placing his hand on his hips. That only made Shinsuke eat his guts. He couldn't say much from that. He didn't dare to explain how much he hurt his son from saying unnecessary things.

The dual haired shook his head. "Can I speak with [Name] for a moment?" he politely asked. "Of course. He has been in his room for all day long right after he came back from school. He has been quiet as usual. I'm sure he's tired. Oh. Speak of the devil," he trailed off, hearing someone climbing down the stairs. "Oh. Kita?" [Name] mumbled, walking towards his father. He gave him a look as a signal for him to leave them alone. After the older male left, he smiled at the wing spiker. "What are you doing here?"

"I would like to talk to you, [Name]," Shinsuke fiddled his fingers a little. His body seem to be itching to move. "I'm sorry, Kita but--" the taller male was about to deny but the other leap himself into a tight hug with him. [Name] was a little dumbfounded but didn't return the hug.

"OHHH MY GOD----"

Everyone now was in [Name]'s bedroom. Everyone meaning the whole volleyball club members. Apparently, all of then were stalking Shinsuke and ended up there. Currently, they were kneeling on the floor while Shinsuke and [Name] sat on the bed. "We're sorry, [N/n]!!" Atsumu wept. "We? Who's we? You dragged us here!" Osamu exclaimed, hitting his twin's head with his fist. The others seemingly nodding in agreement. "[N/n]... Why did you leave us? Don't you love volleyball anymore? Do you hate us now?!" the blonde twin whined while crawling up to the older's legs. He sighed heavily and glanced to the side. "I don't hate you guys. I left because I rather focus on my future,"

"Volleyball isn't part of your future anymore?" the younger ask. His shoulders fell, exhausted. "Volleyball is no longer fun if you're not good at it," Some of them furrowed their brows at that statement. "Of course. For the ones that happened to be there that day, no, it wasn't because of Kita. He only made me realised how much I hate volleyball," he paused for a moment, sensing his ex's subtle shift on the bed. "Some of you think Kita breaking up with me was wrong-"

"YOU GUYS BROKE UP??" Atsumu yelled. "You idiot, obviously they are. [N/n] calls him Kita now," his twin shoved him. The rest only sighed heavily in annoyance. "As I was saying, I agree with you. It was horrible. Never felt so shitty in my entire life. At the worst time of my life too," he sighed, rubbing down his thighs. That piqued everyone's interest. Questioning onto their senior's life.

"My parents have never been so supported of me playing Volleyball. Everyday they discourage me but I had every one of you to keep my spirits up. Until as of late. Exams are coming close and my parents has bugging me excessively about quitting the club. It was getting to me to the point I couldn't play as how I used to. So when Kita told me that all of that, it felt like I didn't have no ways to move on," he ended his explanation there. Silence dominated the atmosphere.

Arms suddenly wrapped around the older's neck. It was Shinsuke's. Pulling him into another hug. "I'm sorry, [Name]," he uttered, tightening his embrace. The other exhaled as he melted into the hug, wrapping his arms back. "I shouldn't have said that about you. You are an amazing volleyball player. An amazing libero. An amazing boyfriend too," he mumbled into the crook of the [h/c]'s neck. The male could feel his skin feeling a little wet.

That was the first time in a while where Shinsuke said more than one sentence. Other than the time when he literally berated his own boyfriend right in front of his teammates. Overwhelm filled [Name] as he grabbed a fistful of the back of other's jacket and began sobbing. This triggered the boys to tear up as well. One by one, they stood up from their spot and hug the two. Slowly building up a group hug.

In the end, everyone went home. [Name] and Shinsuke called. The dual haired initiated the call first. Apologizing and apologizing. This time he was careful with his words. The two finally made up and got together again.

The next day, [Name] showed up for the team's practice hours. However, he was only there to send Shinsuke to the gym since he had already made the decision to stop playing for the team and focused on his education instead. He had to leave right after but Atsumu had found himself clinging onto him. Begging him to not leave. [Name] eventually gave in and watched them play for a few minutes.

Shinsuke stood by his boyfriend with a water bottle in hand. He silently slid his fingers in between the taller male's. Locking it in hold. He didn't say anything but [Name] could still feel the guilt radiating off of him. Then he felt weight leaning onto him. Shinsuke laying his head onto his shoulders. "Are you tired?" he asked. The volleyball player only nodded. He hummed softly. "Okay. If you don't mind, I will pick you up once it's finished. Or do you want to keep sticking to your routine?" A gentle squeeze from their connected hands gave him the answer that he needed. So, he hummed once more. "Okay then. I'll pick you up once it's over," he says, turning to look at his lover and leaned down for a simple peck on the head. A small smile reached Kita Shinsuke's lips.

[oceantornadoo]

mad max: the 141 (price x f!reader)

ch 2: your first night

canon-typical violence, sexual violence is referenced (but will not happen), general misogyny. the 141 are the good guys, just a bit rough around the edges

series masterlist (also has more world building info)

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you reminded john of rabbits, creatures he'd heard about from campfire stories. your dress, like their fur, white as limestone. you were jumpy and small, fast as the devil. he could feel your legs tense against his, had felt it for the past three hours of the bike ride. ready to hop off and run, to take your chances in the sand and storm of the wasteland. he didn't blame you.

dusk had fallen as the 141 approached their home base. you were already jumping off his bike when he slowed down, eager to put space between the two of you. smart girl. john price did not consider himself a good man, even though he had met men much worse, men who were not man at all. sometimes, he felt that same instinct lurking underneath him, just out of reach.

base was just a small outcropping of rocks. this couldn't be right. suddenly, gaz had disappeared from your view. then, silent as his name, ghost did as well. your eyes finally adjusted to the quick coming darkness and you took in the sight before you. a hole in the ground, covered with a metal frame. a door to the underground. they had hidden their bikes behind the rocks, the shadows playing tricks on your mind. any traveler would pass this place without a second thought. the captain (you still didn't know his name) hid his bike in a similar matter, then gestured to the hole. "down you go." like alice in wonderland, you thought, images of your precious century-old books coming to mind. you jumped.

gaz caught you gracefully. you murmured your thanks, still unused to having male hands touch you so easily. you were no longer a shiny piece of metal on the shelf, you had been taken down for play. in any sense of the word.

electric lighting flickered around the cavern. there were several tunnels leading into the distance, further underground. you stood in a common area, the group's supplies scattered throughout the room. it was lived in but clean, a rarity in a world like yours. the air smelled the opposite of dryness, almost like-

"water?" the captain was offering you drinking water from a canteen. you looked up at him in confusion. "real water?" ghost grunted an affirmation from somewhere in the vicinity, but you were too busy locking eyes at the captain to get specifics. his eyes were so focused on you, so unaware of the kindness of his gesture. was he prepping you for a future as his wife? that must be it. must be why he was so concerned about your period. either way, you were dehydrated from the long drive and took the canteen greedily, slurping at the water. unprincesslike behavior, not fit for a wife, but you didn't care. he'd get what he paid for.

"how do you have water?" your voice croaked slightly from disuse, the water smoothing out the cracks in your throat. "springs. down one of the tunnels. s' why it smells damp. s' our little secret, yeah?" you gaped at gaz's response. with access to a hot spring, they could be kings. they could have a hundred wives each, slaves in the thousands, become kings of the springs in their own right. yet they made small attacks of shipping trades and deals for princesses of gastown? you didn't understand. they seemed to lack the innate violence you thought was required of human nature, of the existence of man.

"long day, yeah? let's regroup tomorrow." the captain led you down the tunnel as you quickly said goodnight to the other outlaws. despite your propensity to save water, your palms grew sweaty. this was when it happened. this was when he'd take you to bed and make you a wife. or at least someone to get mother's milk from. you hoped he'd be somewhat gentle, hoped the other's wouldn't hear your screams. you were so lost in your thoughts you didn't notice the captain had stopped, directing you to a bedroll.

"would you be gentle, please? if i can ask? i won't ask for anything else." your voice sounded tinny in the room, as if another had asked it. the only sound was the echo of the far off spring. the captain paused his state of undress, clothed in only his underwear. you averted your eyes, quelling any attraction that bubbled up in your belly. you were a virgin, had been groomed to be one, but you had had other experiences with some men in gastown. you knew the electricity of attraction, the zing of the moment. you reminded yourself that the captain was your owner, not your lover, and that quickly ended any other feelings.

"gentle, love? what d'ya mean?" he was sprawled on the bedroll, all muscle and fat and hair. his body corded with the results of labor, hidden under a layer of fat that showed his status. you shrugged back your shoulders, reminding yourself you were a princess. "when you bed me." he let out a bark of laughter, turning you shy. were you too proper? you didn't like the other words men used, your stepfather used, when they talked about the act. they felt dirty on your tongue, like spending a night in the desert sand. "'m not gonna fuck you, love." fuck. he said it almost lovingly, like he revered it. tongue tracing the vowels like he'd traced your stomach earlier.

"then...the belt? you bought me?" he patted the bed roll and you finally laid down next to him, less afraid of him now. "'s all politics, sweetheart. i don't fuck people who don't want me inside them. if you ask me, i'll fuck you good. but only then." people. as in not just women. not unheard of, but never blatantly referenced. you wondered about the other outlaws, images of them undressed and sweaty under the captain coming to mind. with the casualness in their interactions, you weren't surprised. some part of your brain, a part you had thought was long gone when you had been sold, conjured another image. being shared. just like that you shivered in the cold dampness, and it was gone.

"body heat. come on." you finally laid against him, back touching his bare chest. he covered you with the threadbare blanket, slinging his arm around your waist and the other under your head. like a personal pillow. the thought was so insane you almost giggled, and he relaxed at the feel of your body calming. his rabbit was finally less jittery, ready for bed. his paw spread against your stomach, callouses brushing against soft skin. he reveled in the feel of your stomach, not concave like most in the wasteland. his pampered princess, cuddled against one of the most feared outlaws in the land. you covered his hand with your own, brushing against the hair there. he nuzzled your neck, memorizing your scent. the sound of it sent a bolt of arousal straight to your core, but you ignored it.

"goodnight, captain." no wonder you were so scared of him. he hadn't told you his name. "s' john, love." your throat hitched. john. "goodnight, john." he hummed against your skin, his own personal goodnight back.

you fell into a dreamless sleep, the events of the day washing in and out. until the atmosphere changed, the feeling of being watched waking you up. you felt john adjust behind you, the feeling of his body draped around you. you could even feel his cock lay heavy against your ass, resting. your eyes blinked open through the darkness of the cave, searching. and you found it in the man sitting a few feet away, cloaked behind a red mask in the shape of a skull, mohawk standing straight.

you screamed.

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i don't usually write virgin readers but i felt like it made sense for this world. going to try to make it a small deal so every kind of reader can relate. shorter chapter, hoped yall enjoyed!