#I could barely see what I was doing and kept getting hit by lightning

[saetiate]

call it what it is. (or, the five times sae and you are "just friends". and the one time it stops being possible to deny what this really is.)

itoshi sae x f!reader fluff. friends to lovers, first kiss, how love happens, reader goes by she/her pronouns and has some personality (sorry, i couldn't get around it bc of The Plot but i kept it as minimal as possible) word count: 2.3k author's note: you both have a whole dinner date, go to events together, take care of each other, and then get surprised when people think you're dating??? okay so the sound of fireworks are less obvious than whatever yall have going on

Bitterness churns at the back of your throat. Is it from the roasted beans of the coffee you've been slamming into your system for the last few days, or from the lack of sleep?

Not that it matters. You've worked OT, both your team and your clients are unhappy, and according to your Excel worksheet, you're on your 85th job application. So really, it doesn't get worse than —

The doorbell rings.

Who the actual —

You breathe out the biggest sigh at the pretty face standing before you. It's definitely the lack of sleep, isn't it? Either you really should've checked the peephole and put on something a little more flattering, or he's a hallucination.

Let's hope it's the latter. You move to close the door, and his hand reaches out lightning-quick, holding it still. In a spark of annoying rebellion, you press all of your body weight against the door, and it doesn't budge an inch.

Right. Athletes and their stupid, stupid strength.

"You didn't answer my calls."

They say sighing is a necessary part of your lungs, that one of the struggles of artificial lungs was getting them to sigh. You wonder if it meant this many times in a day. "Sae, I'm busy. Wait, I didn't answer your calls? You don't answer my texts 90% of the time."

Then he's in your entryway, because of course you can't argue where your neighbors can hear, that's rude. But then he's in your kitchen, washing his hands, opening your fridge.

"There's nothing in here. When's the last time you took a shower?"

"You come here just to insult me?"

A towel hits your face with an oof before it falls into your arms.

"Sae," you try again, as the towel slides down your cheek, "You can't just barge in here and —"

20 minutes later, there's two steaming bowls of katsu curry rice on your now-clean desk. Sae opens up the little ziplock of togarashi, leans it against your bento box with more care than you'd expect.

"Itakadimasu."

~

It's the strangest thing, walking into your place only for someone to already be in there. How the noise cuts through, something unbelonging but welcomed.

"You know, giving you the key wasn't so you could just walk in here whenever you want. It was for emergencies only."

The only answer you get is the smell of onions being caramelized, crackled sparks of savory in the air.

"I answered your call," you continue, undressing behind a half-open door. "So this can't be an emergency. And you have a much nicer place than this."

Sae barely glances at you as your head peeks into the kitchen. "You could stay there."

"What, with you? Like we're roommates? Nah, you'd see what a mess I am."

"I'm already seeing it."

A spatula waves in little circles around the pan.

“What are you doing here, Sae?”

Like he's already braced for the question, the refrigerator light beacons out into the descending night. Your favorite wine passes from his hand to yours.

"Got gifted it," he responds before you can even ask. You could've caught him looking at you, but the gold label glints with stars in your eyes.

"How'd you get gifted icewine? You've never talked about it in an interview."

He doesn't tell you he asked his manager for recommendations, that he knows they let it slip to someone looking for a brand deal with him. Instead, he watches as you struggle to pop the cork open, the xylophone clink of ice into twin wine glasses.

"So you do like sweet things," you comment as the nectared drink meets your tongue with a smile. There's a reverence to it: how he watches you chop the vegetables before sliding them into the pan, how the last remnants of today's sunlight filter through the window and past your hair.

Sweet things. He supposes he does like something like that.

~

"This event, is it a big deal?"

He vaguely hears a ruffle of clothing behind the half-shut bathroom door, lightstream swept across the floor. He offered you what he knows his teammates get their wives for these events — stylist, makeup artists — but he watched you stand in his bathroom layering on eyeshadow for yourself anyways.

I don't trust anyone else to touch me. A simple statement made stark.

"Sorry, Sae. Could you help zip me up please?"

Maybe it's that implication, that hidden trust you place in him, that makes his exhale a little shaky as one of his hands wraps around your waist to hold the dress down, the other carefully pulling up metal piece up.

You've often thought athletes would naturally be aggressive. You've seen Sae make a fast pass across the entire field without breaking a sweat. But when his hands are on you, they're always light. You think of the falling of snow, its soft and silent touch that comes unexpected, the easy descent it makes before it melts into the ground.

Love is a little like that, maybe.

~

It's a common feeling, to feel as if you're completely alone in this world. Easy to get into your own head, to see only yourself within four walls again and again and forget that there is a whole world outside. It's logical, well-researched, known. It's because of that that you can factor out the feelings when it hits you.

The four walls has never felt as striking as now, coughing into the hollow quiet. The morbid thought strikes that if you died here, no one would know. They'd find your body days later, after the smell starts to waft out.

But you chose this. To move and to fight and to create a life worth living. You, with your ambitions and heavy heart and endless survival faith that makes you somehow believe you can still make it. Sometimes you have to force a door close before wrenching another one open with nothing but your bare hands. Sometimes you have to swallow all your pride and roll up your sleeves and pray to no higher gods you worship that the decision you made is worth it.

You think you hear something click as your mind fogs back and forth into sleep. You hope whoever's burgling you will at least leave you alone and only take what they need. You hear your name, and then a shuffle, and god this is really the worst time to have a stalker.

The back of a hand over your forehead is cool to the touch, the night's breeze still pressed between the molecules.

"You're sick."

Thank you, intruder, for pointing out the obvious is what you want to say. But instead, your head lulls heavily to the side. "I just need to rest for a bit."

"You need a hospital."

"I'm fine. I'm just- being dramatic. But I'm fine."

Your world tips on its axis, warmth blooming into your side. He lifts you into his arms soundlessly. You almost envy how effortless it is for him; the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself.

It's only halfway towards his car that you find yourself processing, finally speaking, "Thank you, Sae."

There's a sharp intake of breath from him, the hard line of his body protecting you from the night's chilled-sweet air. His heartbeat against your ear is as steady as the shore, the way it waits for the kiss of the tide.

"Just call me next time."

~

Sae's not sure how he feels about this.

It's his first time being late when he's meant to be taking you to this event. He moves fast through the crowd, searches with keen eyes. Chandeliers flicker and crystal-light dances —

Only to find you propped up against the wall, Rin leaning down close.

Sae might be less confused if Rin didn't look — for what might be the first time at an event ever — like he actually wanted to be there. He's listening to you with all his attention, has no problem being in your space.

Sae only approaches once you've been whisked away by Bachira.

"Why were you talking to her?"

Rin whips around, and instead of looking guilty, he's in wide-eyed shock, and then narrow-eyed annoyance. "Ha? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Sae blinks. Did he say that? He would've remembered, wouldn't he?

"You good-for-nothing older brother," Rin's voice is a grunt, nothing like the sweetness he gave you. "You didn't even introduce me. I had to fucking find out through Isagi."

"How does Isagi know?"

"Oliver."

"How does Oliver know?"

Rin gives him an begrudged, deadpan look. "He's your teammate?"

That explains nothing. Actually, Sae is even more confused. He has about a dozen more questions.

"She's nice." Rin mumbles low, playing with the stem of his wine glass, watches as it almost tips before swooping it back up.

"You like her?"

"I think she's nice." Rin grits, and Sae really doesn't know how Rin gets away with faux passes on the field when his reactions are this obvious, because he watches how his eyes grow with realization as another thought passes through his brain. "You don't like her?"

"I like her." Sae accepts quickly.

"Ha??? Then what are you asking me for?!"

~

If Sae's being honest, he knows he has more than enough. He wonders what this thing is that he's had since he was born, never satiated even as he reaches the top. He thinks about how Bachira describes his 'monster', a childlike wonder, whether this is his own version of something like that.

But even the blackhole-depths of his greed doesn't anticipate wanting you. Like remembering the sea upon the drink of an oyster. A second breath, heart soaked with knowing.

What am I doing, sleeping in his bed? The night grows darker with every step, so the invite was innocuous enough. You sink into the mattress and the blanket of night muffles the fear, the thought that love is never so easy. There will be complications and contracts —

You turn to him and all the braveheart strength seeps out of you. Maybe you can put it down here, just for a moment.

He looks at you love-first, in a thousand colors, something he can't find with anyone else. He brushes the hair from your face so delicately, you find yourself stuck between watching his relaxed expression and fluttering your eyes shut to absorb the feeling. The back of his fingers caress your cheek, a butterfly's wing.

"Are you happy? Satisfied?"

Sae is not abstract. It's a vague but concrete question. You understand him at first glance.

"Not yet," you exhale honestly. "I have more to do. I'm gonna get there."

I'm gonna be the person I want to be. And by that time, I'll also be —

I'll also be the kind of girl you'd consider worth dating.

"Just wanna be worth it," you smile weakly instead.

He looks at you with a tenderness that feels dangerous. You think of a bird's first flight, the swoop of the fall. The crackle of a flame before it eats the firewood.

"People are worth something the moment they're born," he recites with no inflections.

"I know that."

"You're the one who said that." It's not accusatory, it's a reminder: your own truth, a perception of love you've been made the exception of. It's too heavy with degradation for him to feel comfortable focusing on, so instead he asks something he knows.

"If you had everything you want now, would it be enough?"

You sit up, his eyes following you. Your body heat no longer pressed against his feels like a loss, something he's sure to correct.

"No. You know that's not how it works." You should know, better than anyone.

He does know. That greed is a bottomless abyss, ambition an infinite sky. There is no amount of good enough that could ever make it all feel worth it.

His hand circles around your wrist, pulls you in on top of him until you're chest to chest.

Love is not your right. Shattered somethings cradle your heart. Trees can grow around items. You wonder if your heart is the same — muscle grown strong around fractured glass, a whisper of a cutting edge with every beat.

If you're always going to want more, be better, go further —

Could you have a little something in the now?

He's so close to you now that it fills your mind completely. He's not naked but he feels so bare under you, your hands framing his cheeks, soft skin brushing against your fingertips. One of his hands skates up your back, the other slides up your jaw, cups the back of your neck.

You wonder when you started letting him touch you like that.

He treats you so gently, so unlike the overwhelming emotion that crashes into you. Both lightweight and heavy, you feel swept under, you just want to anchor onto something —

His lips touch yours and everything falls into place.

~

"How'd you know about her?"

Oliver could make it easy for him. He won't, because getting a reaction out of Sae is much more fun. Instead, he tries and fails to feign ignorance. "Who?"

"My girlfriend."

Oliver leans his head back against the wall, a playful smile over his face. "So she is your girlfriend. Loyal too."

Sae narrows his eyes.

"Relax. I just talked to her at one of those events you brought her to."

"You talked to her?"

Oliver gets the sense that Sae is trying to make it sound like a normal question, but all it sounds is exactly how annoyed he feels.

"She just said she's waiting for you."

notes: unbelonging is not a word, i used it anyways on purpose to strengthen the idea of something not belonging. nectared and lightstream are also not real words, but i like them. twin wine glasses is kind of a reference to twin flames, though i do think you and sae are actually soulmates. i wonder if people can be both. "the weight you carry is so heavy when you're carrying it yourself" is a double meaning, not just your body weight but everything else you carry too.

call it what it is: / a love created, hand-sculpted to fit. / a silent reprieve, / to be seen, / constellations bursting at the seams. / unfounded heart, / a tepid start,/ an easy, soft-sweet thing. / say what this really is. / place it on the justice scales of the abyss. / what you're meant to be / versus what you choose / you can decide you have a right to this.

[skyward-floored]

I beat hyrule warriors :D

[em1i2a3]

Would you ever consider a scenario where Bob has a nightmare about losing reader? Perhaps due to the Void overpowering her, in the dream it gets to be too much for her, etc?

Big Shot

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader!

Summary: Bob has been having nightmares about losing you to The Void.

Warnings: Horror Imagery, Nightmares involving The Void (nuff said I think…), Hurt/Comfort, Reader has been injured before by The Void (it is referenced, they have a scar on their arm.), Angst

Author’s Note: I love nightmare sequences so much, and I enjoy writing them for The Void especially…Look at the dude he’s a little mean boi lol. Anyways! Hope you enjoy <3, thank you for the request Anon! I hope it meets the request,

Word Count: 3,801

Bob knew it was a dream, but that never mattered to him, because all of it felt too real to him.

The air was thick and wet–soaked in static, the kind that you feel tingling in your bones before a thunderstorm, or before lightning strikes. Like ozone laced with rot. It filled Bob’s lungs with something sharp and metallic–like he was inhaling old blood.

The sky was wrong–a vast dome of colorless space that pressed down into the environment around him, there was no horizon, no sun, and no stars, it was nothingness. The world around him looked like something built from the bones of his worst memories–deformed and stitched together into something cruel. His childhood home with broken dishes scattered across the floor and old food that had long since dried into the wooden panels of the walls. The lab that he had woken up in, the thing that created who he was today. The car crash that turned him into an addict…It made him ill.

And in the center of it all…Was you. Barefoot, standing amid the rubble of his worst memories and shameful past. You were breathing heavily, shoulder rising and falling in sharp panicked jerks, like you were in pain, or something was trying to crawl out of you.

“Bob,” Your voice was paper-thin, raw, and barely audible , “I-I don’t feel right.” Your hands trembled at your sides, and your knees threatened to buckle. And all Bob could do was run towards you.

But the ground betrayed him. It pulsed–as if it was alive beneath his feet–then liquified into sludge. His feet sank, and he was dragged down by a type of force he couldn’t see. It was like moving through molasses laced with broken glass. He growled and pushed harder, even through the pain that began to erupt through his legs.

You reached out, your hands shaking.

And then it began…

It started with one drop from your nose, thick and impossibly black. It wasn’t blood, it wasn’t even close to anything that he had seen before. It hit the fractured concrete beneath your feet and hissed, releasing a wisp of smoke that curled around you. The second drop came from your tear ducts, slipping down your cheeks and painting your skin, before dripping from the corners of your mouth.

Then your spine arched, and you let out a sharp, choking sound–like you had swallowed something wrong and couldn’t breathe through it. And suddenly, the blackness was everywhere. It poured from your nose, your mouth, your eyes. Your skin began to slowly split in hairline fractures and those too wept the all too familiar vantablack that The Void wore like a suit. It bubbled beneath your flesh like it had roots.

And all Bob could do was scream your name.

You dropped to your knees, hands bracing against the ruined ground, grunting as if you were trying to fight it. But the darkness kept coming, like possession.

You opened your mouth to cry out again, but your voice had been hollowed, and what came out was not you.

”Help me–“ It wasn’t your voice…It was his. It was The Void.

The sound had twisted as it left your throat–like it passed through sheet metal, then bone, then something inhuman, extraterrestrial. Bob’s stomach lurched as your skin went glossy, black veins racing up your arms like wildfire. The ink spread across your body like paint being poured over a monument. The whites of your eyes turned black–your pupils being eaten away by a light, and the colour of your lips leached away. The shape of your face–the one that he had kissed countless times–became distorted, all of your features ceasing to exist

You weren’t just fading away in front of him. You were being rewritten. He saw the darkness crawl over your shoulder, watching it curl like smoke around your bicep.

Right over the jagged scars that looked like chemical burns if you glanced at it, but when you looked closer, they resembled claw marks…It was the one The Void had left behind.

He’d hurt you before–by not being fast enough, by not being strong enough to protect you from the horrors that lived inside him. Even with the serum that ran through his bloodstream–the one that gave him the mantle of being the world's saviour–he couldn’t even protect the one thing that mattered to him.

The blackness wrapped itself around that mark like a crown, displaying it like an award.

”STOP!” Bob shouted, voice breaking as he lunged toward you–arms outstretched, his hands inches from yours, he could’ve sworn he touched the tips of your fingers.

Then…Something took you.

A force slammed into your chest, and you were ripped backwards through the air, your body snapped with the velocity, limbs flailing, as a strangled noise escaped your throat before you were swallowed by the darkness of the horizon.

“N-NO. NO, PLEASE–BRING H-HER BACK!” Bob begged, his hands clawing at the ground beneath him, palms stained with blood, eyes wide and frantic and wet.

“You think…You can protect her from me?” The voice slithered in from every direction, burrowing into his brain like a parasite. Bob could feel his throat closing at the sinister undertone, the way The Void crept up and invaded all his senses.

“You think nine months of good behaviour makes you human? That you get to play house with Y/N, and sit beside her like you’re not a ticking time bomb.” The ground around him began to peel open like flesh, as it began to pulse beneath his palms.

”You think keeping your hands to yourself is enough to keep me caged?” Black tendrils coiled through the cracks in the cement like smoke made solid, brushing up Bob’s arms, and wrapping around his wrists like rope.

”I scrape the walls of your skull, Bob. I breathe through your lungs when you sleep. I taste the scent of her hair when she kisses your cheek…You’re a fucking vessel. A small, puny little host, with whom I despise.” Bob pulled against the restraints, but the tendrils only tightened, and squeezed until he lost all feeling in his hands.

“One day, I’ll crack you open like a fucking shell, and I’ll take her again–properly this time. I’ll wear her…And I’ll show her what you really are.” Then your scream surrounded him from every angle in his brain, and the world exploded into total darkness.

——————

Bob woke like he had been hurled from a skyscraper. His body snapped upward with the force of it, a ragged breath tearing through his lungs and escaping his throat, like he hit the ground and shattered on impact. His heart was thundering against his ribcage–wild, and sickeningly fast, like it wasn’t beating but vibrating instead–it was as if it was trying to bust out of his body. Every inch of his skin was soaked with sweat, clinging to the warm sheets like it was gluing him to the fabric. He tried to take in a deep breath, but it only sounded like a choked gasp.

He closed his eyes tightly, clenching his jaw, attempting to reorient himself to the space around him. The room was still, but it felt far away and distant. The echo of your scream vibrated through his body like an aftershock that crawled up his spine, and gripped the base of his skull with invisible fingers. The dream was clinging to him–the shadows, the heat, the visceral image of you being swallowed whole by the darkness…By his darkness.

Bob tried to breathe, pulling air through his nose, slow and shallow, before forcing it out through trembling lips, you had taught him how to breathe through the burning in his chest, he remembered your hands on his cheeks, easing him and whispering he was going to be okay, how you told him to breathe. It took a few ragged inhales to really get things under control. But once he did, he finally pried his eyes open.

The moonlight bled gently through the sheer white curtains, soft and silvery, casting faint striations of light across the oak floor and the edge of the bed frame. It shifted slightly with the movement of the fabric–swaying like water, refracted in the breeze that floated in through the cracked window. It crested over the bare skin of his chest, cooling the heat that bloomed beneath it.

Bob took a deep breath and let it fill his lungs slowly, as if the act alone might stitch the torn edges of his nerves back together. The cool air slid down his throat like smoke, thin and quiet, and he swallowed thickly as he finally leaned forward to sit upright against the headboard. The movement made his spine crack, subtle and sharp, and the room shifted faintly around him, like it too was trying to settle back into place after the dream tore through it. The wood was cool against his back, but it gave him a bit of a jolt of reality, tethering him to the waking world.

He dragged both palms down his face. They were damp with sweat, slick with the remnants of adrenaline, and they left a faint sheen across the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. His fingers pressed hard against his cheekbones, as if he could scrub away the weight of what he had seen in the dream–and everything he had felt.

Only once he settled himself, and the throbbing in his throat dulled to something less intrusive, did he finally turn his head.

You were there, right where he left you, right where he had kissed you goodnight before turning over for the evening. You were curled on your side, facing him like you always did.

Even when he fell asleep with his back to you–when the weight of the day was too much–he’d always wake to find you like this, turned toward him. Sometimes you’d rest a hand on his shoulder, sometimes your forehead would just barely touch his spine. Even in the narrowest of safehouse cots or the wide expanse of his or your bed, you always had a tendency to find your way to face him. Because your body refused to rest unless it could keep him in sight.

Tonight was no different. One of your hands was tucked beneath the pillow, the other was loosely fanned across the mattress between you. You looked relaxed–your brows were unfurrowed, your lips were slightly parted, and your breaths were slow and steady like waves hitting shore. Even in sleep, you were holding him in place, like your presence was an anvil tied to reality, keeping him exactly where he needed to be.

Bob’s gaze drifted down your arm, to the scar on your bicep. The light from the moon made it glint faintly–almost like glass catching a glimmer of sun before it dulled again. In the dark it looked soft, barely there, but he knew better. He knew what it was, and he knew what it represented.The skin along your bicep was uneven, and jagged, reflecting a shape of something that didn’t belong in this world. It wasn’t from a knife or shrapnel, not chemical burns or fire. The edges curved and twisted unnaturally, like the aftermath of being touched by something sentient and cruel–like a signature carved by a god-shaped wound who should’ve bared no name. Up close, the lines were too precise to be accidental, and too deep to be merciful–like something had reached into you and pulled out what it could before leaving its mark behind.

You had told him what happened that day–but only after he asked, again and again, his voice quiet, almost ashamed, like he was afraid of what the answer might be. Even then, you never shared the worst of it. You spared him the details, which in turn spared yourself in reliving what happened, you only ever said “He hurt me. I was stupid to go to Sentry when they ran. But I couldn’t leave you.”

Still, Bob had pieced the rest together. In the quiet hours. In the long stretches of isolation where his own thoughts were louder than any team comms. The memory of that moment was a blur in his mind, but some things stuck: the discussion Sentry had with Val, the way he got in her face and held her neck, and the red that invaded his vision suddenly when he was about to snap.

You hadn’t left. You’d been in the Watch Tower when Val issued the kill switch. You had somehow slipped through the cracks and stayed behind as the rest of the team hauled themselves off and made their escape. He didn’t remember seeing you crawl to him afterward. Didn’t remember the way you dropped to your knees, still bleeding, hands shaking as you pulled his lifeless body onto your lap. Didn’t know that you’d been crying, or that you’d run your hand through his hair and whispered his name over and over like it could bring him back. But you told him later, in pieces. In echoes. Always downplayed. Always with a sad little smile, like it was just something you had to live with.

Because it was still Bob. Regardless of everything he had done to you and the team. Regardless of the serum, or the suit, or the shimmering gold that lit his body like a flare before everything spiraled into ruin. You’d seen him in there. And that was what brought you to him, even when you should have run.

But the real horror hadn’t started until after Val was gone. When you were holding him–your hand on his cheek, your voice tight with panic, begging him to wake up–that’s when it happened. That’s when the darkness crept in from every direction. When the air collapsed inward and The Void came for you.

He still felt sick about it, and he still had nights like this, where his throat was raw and his heart thundered with the weight of guilt he couldn’t carry. Because even though you forgave him–even though you loved him now, and had told him so in your own careful, honest way–he couldn’t forget. Couldn’t unsee that scar. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a brand. A warning carved into your skin because of him.

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out.

He didn’t think. He didn’t even breathe. Just let his fingers hover above your bicep, then slowly trace the edge of the scars. He didn’t put enough pressure to wake you–but it was just enough to feel it. It was warm, the skin soft, raised faintly beneath his touch. The lines still felt unnatural beneath his fingertips, like a language written in agony.

He traced one of the curves near the top, his brow knitting so tightly it made his forehead ache. He hadn’t even realized how furrowed his expression had become–how tightly his jaw had locked in place–until your eyes fluttered open.

You slowly blinked in the dark, letting your eyes adjust to the moonlit room, as your gaze settled on him immediately.

“Bob?” Your voice was laced with tiredness. He pulled his hand back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, curling it against his chest. But not fast enough. You saw it–the guilt in his eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted, how his chest barely moved with each breath. You saw how his brows were drawn together like he was in pain. His face was still flushed, his cheeks damp from sweat, and his expression had the soft, trembling look of someone who had just woken from the edge of hell. “You okay?”

You shifted slowly, the sheets rustling in the quiet as you sat up beside him. The blanket slipped slightly before you gathered it against your chest, holding it loosely across your bare torso. The moonlight skimmed the slope of your shoulder, kissed the high points of your collarbone, painted you in soft, silvery light–like something divine beside him, real in a way his nightmares never were.

Your eyes never left his face.

“Bob?” You asked again, a little clearer now, your voice rough from sleep but laced with concern. He couldn’t look at you, he averted his gaze, glancing off to the side of the room.

“I-I had another nightmare,” He finally admitted, his voice quiet and flat. Almost lifeless. “It was…B-Bad.” You didn’t ask him to explain. You didn’t need to. Instead, you reached for him–your hand immediately finding the tense muscles between his shoulder blades. You began to rub in slow, gentle circles. Soothing him the only way you knew how. Your thumb pressed in just enough to ease the tightness from his posture, watching as he took a slow deep breath in. Then you leaned toward him, brushing a soft kiss to the curve of his shoulder, just beneath the faint shimmer of sweat that still clung to his skin.

“It was just a dream, Bob,” You whispered against him, your breath hot and sticky “It’s over.” He shook his head, his whole body shuddering with the effort of it.

”…I always think I-I’m going to hurt you again.” His voice cracked, shaking with the admission. For a moment you just looked at him–at the man you loved, coming apart in the dark, sitting rigid in your shared bed like he didn’t believe he should be in it. His shoulders were hunched, like he was trying to fold in on himself, to disappear. His hands trembled where they sat in his lap. His jaw twitched as he fought the tears welling in his eyes. You sighed softly, not from frustration–but from something heavy and aching, like your own chest couldn’t hold the grief that had just spilled out of him.

”Bob…” You breathed, reaching out towards him slowly. Your fingers curled along his jaw, as you turned his head, slowly, until he met your gaze. His eyes were glassy. Haunted.

And you didn’t miss a beat.

”I know he would never do that again,” You said quietly. “No matter what he says in your dreams, it’s just an empty threat. That’s all it’s ever been.” Bob’s eyes flickered, and a tear slipped down one cheek before he could stop it.

“I haven’t seen him since that day,” You continued, voice steady. “Not once. Not even a flicker. He hasn’t come close. Do you know what that tells me?” He sniffled, watching you lean closer to him.

“That tells me you keep him away. Every hour. Every day. And every night you hold me and fall asleep beside me and keep him buried…You’ve done all of that for me…You. Not anyone else.” Bob’s bottom lip trembled slightly. His throat worked around a soundless sob. You pressed your forehead against his, breathing him in, “I’m not afraid of him, Bob…And You shouldn’t be either.” He closed his eyes at that–tight, like it hurt to hear–and another tear tracked slowly down his face. He turned into your hand, seeking it like a lifeline, and you held him there, thumb sweeping gently across his cheek, catching the tears before they could fall any farther.

“I-I love you Y/N…” He stuttered out, and your eyes softened even further. You leaned in and kissed him. Softly. Slowly. Like sealing a promise with your mouth. Your hand never left his face as your lips met his, warm and trembling and laced with emotion. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t meant to fix anything. It was just meant to be–to exist in the aftermath of the storm still shaking through his bones. When you pulled back, your thumb brushed under his eye again, wiping the fresh tear away. Your voice was soft, tender, full of the kind of warmth that made Bob’s ribs ache.

“I love you too,” You whispered. “So so much.” You added, pushing his mane of light brown hair off his sweaty forehead. His eyes fluttered shut, like he was trying to absorb it. Like if he could just hold that moment inside him long enough, it might quiet the thunder in his chest.

You kissed his temple next, a featherlight press of your lips against damp skin. “Now lay down with me,” You murmured, gently coaxing him as you slid your hand from his cheek to his shoulder. “And let me hold you till you fall asleep again.” Bob hesitated only for a breath, then nodded, slow and silent.

He shifted down with you, easing into the mattress like he didn’t trust it to hold him–but you held him first. You let him come to you, his long arms sliding around your waist, wrapping you up as though you were the only thing in the world that could ground him. He curled into your side, burying his face gently against your chest, nose brushing just below your collarbone. You tugged the blanket back over both of you, tucking it up around his back, and he melted there like a man completely unmade.

His breath hitched once against your skin. Then again.

And you felt it–warm, quiet tears, soaking slowly into your skin as he clung to you like your body was the only safe place left in the world.

Your fingers found their rhythm against his back. Slow, comforting strokes. You traced shapes between the dips of his shoulder blades, circles and stars and invisible words he didn’t need to hear out loud to understand. Every time his breath trembled, you smoothed your hand lower, across the curve of his spine, whispering nothing, only silence and safety.

He didn’t speak again, he didn’t need to.

He just held on tighter.

And eventually, his breathing slowed and his body softened against yours. The tension in his muscles ebbed out inch by inch as sleep crept up behind his grief and cradled him the way you did–with patience, with forgiveness, and with a love that refused to be shaken by shadows.

You kept tracing lines against his back long after his tears stopped.

And even longer after his breathing evened out.

Because you knew–this was how you kept The Void at bay.

Not with strength.

But with love.

[changbinniescurlyhair]

Hey, I have a skz request if you don't mind. ☺️ Could you pls do a smutty felix one?? 🌶️ Maybe when he's hanging out with the members but something happens and he comes back mad and uses Y/N to calm himself with pleasure?? Soz if its too much, I'm js asking!! 💗

Title: Yours to Soothe Pairing: Lee Felix x f!Reader Warnings: Sexual content (Minors DNI), Dom!Felix, angry sex, creampie, hair pulling, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation, overstimulation, aftercare, teasing from the members, lowkey exhibitionism, a very smug Felix A/N: Thank you for the request! I kinda turned it into crack at the end, but I hope you like it :) Requests Masterlist

The front door slammed.

You barely had time to look up from your phone before Felix appeared in the hallway, chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted up ten flights of stairs. His brows were furrowed, his jaw tight. The usual softness in his eyes? Gone. Replaced by a storm.

“Felix?” you called gently. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

He just looked at you like you were oxygen and he hadn’t taken a breath all day—then he closed the distance and shoved you back against the nearest wall with a force that stole your breath.

“You’re mine,” he growled, mouth crashing onto yours.

It was all tongue and teeth and heat. No teasing, no hesitation. You barely had time to gasp before he pressed his body against you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other sliding under your shirt to grope at your chest with zero restraint.

“I don’t fucking care if they were just joking,” he muttered against your lips, grinding his hips into yours. You could already feel how hard he was. “Hearing them talk about you like that—about what they’d do to you—like you aren’t already being ruined every night by me? Fuck that.”

“Felix—” you gasped, but he didn’t let you finish.

He spun you around so your cheek hit the wall, hands pinning your wrists above your head.

“I need you,” he said lowly, voice like gravel. “Now.”

You felt your knees buckle as he shoved your shorts down and dragged your panties aside, not even bothering to undress you fully. His fingers slid through your folds and he cursed under his breath.

“Already wet,” he muttered. “Fuck, you like when I’m like this, don’t you?”

You nodded helplessly, back arching when he ran a finger down your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Of course you do,” he whispered. “My filthy girl. So eager to get filled, huh?”

He didn’t waste another second. You heard the clink of his belt, the sound of his zipper, and then—he was pressing into you, thick and hard, stretching you in one smooth, rough thrust that made you cry out.

“Shh,” he cooed, leaning in to press his hand over your mouth, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t want them hearing you scream my name, do we?”

You whimpered against his palm, the stretch of him making your eyes roll back. He set a brutal rhythm, each thrust slamming into you with so much force your body jolted against the wall.

“God, I wish they could see you right now,” he gritted. “Bent over, moaning like a bitch in heat. So cockdrunk you can’t even think straight.”

Your walls fluttered around him at the filthy words, your moans muffled and needy.

“You’re mine,” he growled again. “Say it.”

He moved his hand just long enough for you to gasp, “Yours! I’m yours—Felix, please—”

His hand came down hard on your ass and you yelped.

“Damn right you are.”

Your legs were shaking, that familiar knot coiling low in your belly. He reached around and rubbed tight, desperate circles on your clit.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured against your neck. “Come all over my cock like the good little fucktoy you are?”

That pushed you over the edge. Your whole body clenched and spasmed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning. Felix didn’t stop—he kept thrusting through it, chasing his own release until he finally groaned deep in his throat and buried himself inside you to the hilt.

Hot, thick spurts of cum filled you, and he held you tight as you both trembled through the aftershocks.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing. Your cheek was still pressed to the wall, Felix's arms wrapped around your waist from behind, lips kissing the sweaty skin of your shoulder.

Then, softly:

“Did I go too far?”

You shook your head weakly, barely able to speak. “No… it was perfect.”

He kissed your temple, voice low with emotion now. “You ground me. Always.”

You reached back and laced your fingers with his, still pressed against the wall. Still full of him.

“You can always take whatever you need from me,” you whispered. “I’m yours too.”

The soft cotton of Felix’s hoodie was warm against your cheek as you lay draped across his chest, both of you still tangled in the afterglow of everything that had just happened. His fingers ran lazy, soothing patterns along your spine, and his other hand played with strands of your hair like he couldn’t stand to stop touching you.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice still a little rough but no longer dripping with anger.

You nodded against him, lips ghosting over his collarbone. “Yeah… more than okay.”

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Didn’t mean to go that hard. Just… needed you. You grounded me.”

“I like being your safe place,” you whispered, nuzzling closer. “Even when you're wrecking me against a wall.”

That earned a soft, breathy chuckle. “You’re such a menace.”

“Look who's talking,” you teased, flicking his ribs.

He caught your wrist and kissed it, eyes full of warmth now. “Mine.”

Your heart fluttered. You were just about to answer when—

Knock knock.

The two of you froze.

“Uh… Felix?” came a voice from the hallway. Jeongin. Of course. “Not to, uh, kill the mood or anything but… maybe next time don’t slam her into the wall directly across from the living room, yeah?”

You buried your face in Felix’s chest, mortified.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “They heard us?!”

Felix didn’t look remotely sorry. In fact… he looked proud.

“Yeah, yeah, we heard everything,” Seungmin’s voice added from the hallway, deadpan. “I’m emotionally scarred. I hope you’re both happy.”

“Felix, I live here,” Jisung groaned. “I had no choice but to hear that. You were practically narrating.”

“Ohhh, that’s what you sound like when you're mad,” Chan said, tone way too amused. “Should’ve recorded it. Could use it as a warning.”

You peeked up at Felix. “You’re not embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed?” he smirked, pulling you tighter into his chest. “Not even a little. Now they know to never talk about you like that again.”

You smacked his arm, half-laughing, half-dying inside. “I’m never showing my face again.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “In every way. Always.”

Another knock. This time, it was Hyunjin.

“FYI, we love that you two are in love. But next time, use a bedroom.”

“Noted!” Felix shouted, entirely unbothered.

You groaned again.

But despite the embarrassment, you felt Felix’s hand settle protectively at your lower back, felt the way he leaned in and kissed your cheek—gentle now, reverent.

And in that moment, embarrassment or not…

You wouldn’t trade being his for anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ © @changbinniescurlyhair

[fangirlfuel]

Ready to be a Father

Kimi Antonelli was in the middle of an intense testing session in Bahrain, his focus razor-sharp as he navigated the track, gathering valuable data for the team. The mechanics and engineers monitored his every move, analyzing every fraction of a second, every minor adjustment. The pressure was immense, after all, this was his first year in Formula 1, and expectations were already sky-high.

During a short break, he sat in the garage, helmet resting on his knee as he grabbed a water bottle. His phone buzzed on the table next to him. He wasn’t one to check his messages during testing, but something made him glance at the screen. The moment his eyes landed on the picture you had sent, his entire world tilted.

A tiny, pink baby onesie.

With the caption: You're going to be a daddy! 🩷

His breath caught in his throat, heart hammering against his ribs. His hands trembled slightly as he re-read the message, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing. Pregnant? You were pregnant? His mind short-circuited. He was only eighteen. You were only seventeen. He had just started his career, barely getting used to the chaos of F1. And now… a baby?

A mix of emotions crashed over him like a tidal wave. Panic. Shock. Fear. And then, something else, something warm and overwhelming. Love. The idea of having a family with you, of holding a tiny baby in his arms, made his heart swell. He swallowed hard, his mind racing. Could he do this? Would he be a good father? Would you be okay? He had so many questions, so many worries, but one thing was certain—he loved you, and he would do anything to make this work.

With shaking hands, he took a deep breath and, without really thinking, forwarded the picture to his parents with a voice note , his voice trembling. "Mom, Dad… I have to tell you something important......Y/N is pregnant".

Immediately, his phone exploded with notifications. His mother was calling him nonstop, and his father sent a string of panicked texts.

Kimi Lorenzo Antonelli, ANSWER YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW!

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

You’re EIGHTEEN, Kimi!

KIMI, WE ARE GETTING ON A PLANE.

Kimi felt like he was going to pass out. His hands were sweating, and his helmet slipped off his knee onto the floor with a loud clatter. His engineer, noticing his pale face, frowned. “Kimi, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I think I just did,” Kimi muttered.

He barely made it through the rest of the testing session. His engineers kept asking if everything was alright, and he brushed them off with forced smiles. The second he was done for the day, he bolted to the nearest store, heart pounding in his chest. He found a small, soft teddy bear, something perfect for a newborn to cuddle. Holding it in his hands, he made a silent vow to be the best father he could be.

When he finally arrived home, his hands were shaking as he unlocked the door. You barely had time to turn around before he was wrapping you up in a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured against your skin. “I–I don’t know how we’re going to do this, but I swear, I’m going to be the best dad. I’ll do anything for you, for our baby.”

You froze. “Our… baby?”

He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with the softest expression you had ever seen. “I know it’s unexpected, but I swear, I’ll be there for everything. Doctor’s appointments, late nights, everything. I’ll make sure you and the baby have everything you need.”

Your mind reeled, trying to piece together what was happening. Then, a small bark broke the silence.

Your eyes flickered towards the couch, where a tiny golden retriever puppy sat, its tail wagging. And there, draped over its tiny frame, was the pink baby onesie.

Realization hit you like a lightning bolt.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. Your shoulders started shaking with laughter. “Kimi, no! The onesie wasn’t because I’m pregnant, it was for the puppy! I was trying to surprise you with our new pet!”

His face turned a deep shade of red. “Wait… what?”

Tears of laughter streamed down your face as you clutched his arm. “Kimi, you actually thought I was pregnant?”

Kimi groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I just had an entire existential crisis for nothing.”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “A very cute crisis, though.”

Just as Kimi was about to respond, the apartment door burst open with a loud BANG.

“KIMI LORENZO ANTONELLI!”

Kimi jumped, nearly dropping the teddy bear as his parents stormed inside, looking completely frazzled. His mother, eyes blazing with fury, marched up to him and smacked his arm. “You thought you could just TEXT US something like this and NOT ANSWER YOUR PHONE?!”

His father, though slightly calmer, was running a hand through his hair, looking at you with wide eyes. “Kimi, what were you thinking?! You’re both so young! We are about to rearrange our whole lives for this!”

You were doubled over in laughter at this point, tears streaming down your face. Kimi held up his hands. “Mom! Dad! It was a misunderstanding! Y/N isn’t pregnant!”

His mother stopped mid-rant, eyes narrowing. “What?”

Kimi pointed to the couch, where the tiny puppy was now chewing on the onesie’s sleeve. “The onesie was for the puppy! Y/N was surprising me, and I misunderstood!”

Silence.

Then, his mother smacked his arm again. “IDIOTA! Do you know what you just put us through?! We nearly had a heart attack on the way here!”

His father let out a deep sigh of relief before shaking his head. “You’re lucky we love you, Kimi.”

You wiped at your tears, still giggling. “I think this is the funniest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Kimi groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

His mother crossed her arms. “Not from me.”

His father smirked. “Or from me.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around Kimi’s waist. “And definitely not from me.”

Kimi let out a dramatic sigh. “Great. Just great.”

But despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile. Because even though this wasn’t the life-changing moment he thought it was, he still had you, and now, a tiny puppy that you would raise together. And maybe, just maybe, one day, the real onesie moment would happen.

Just… not today.

----

[rikupid]

thinking abt… mutual masturbation as punishment for haechan

thinking abt how he’d stare so hard at you getting yourself off… his eyes trying to catch every detail of your face and body… and at first, he can’t touch himself, his cock straining in his pants as his fingers dig into his thighs, restraining himself. it’s not until you give him the go ahead, immediately fisting his cock at the sight of you.

he’s satisfied until he’s not. whining out that he can make you feel so much better. he’s practically crying out to you, begging for your touch, only you can make him feel good.

i just fell to my knees…. I THINK YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL ME. warning this is literally just haechan begging….. IM SORRY

—————————————————————————————————————

“you did this to yourself, baby,” you laugh, watching as haechan began to squirm. you were on display for him, fingers deep inside yourself and your cunt dripping, yet he couldn’t touch. every moan that left your lips was pure torture and haechan was whining in frustration. he wanted so badly for you to let him touch, his cock straining against his pants while he sat there watching you.

“please, just lemme touch you,” he began to plead, eyes wide and desperate, “s’not fair. wanna feel you.”

you did nothing but ignore him, closing your eyes as you kept fingering yourself. you knew just how much you were affecting him, letting out soft little moans every time your fingers hit just right.

“baby, please. let me make you feel good,” haechan tried again, his nails digging into his thigh. this wasn’t fair. “c’mon, please? you know i’d feel better than your fingers,” he whines, hating the way he was getting ignored. it should be his cock stuffing you full, not your stupid fingers that could barely amount to just how good he fucked you. he was so needy, too obsessed with your cunt to think about anything else.

“shut up,” you finally let out, opening your eyes to see just how desperate he was becoming. “you don’t deserve to touch me, not after what you said earlier,” you spit out, refusing to give in to his begging. he was going to learn just how badly he needed you to make himself feel good. no one else could bring him the same pleasure that you did, his poor cock useless if it wasn’t you touching him.

“i was just teasing, baby, i’m sorry,” haechan whines again, frustration clear in his voice. he hated this. you were so mean to him and it was starting to drive him mad.

pulling your fingers out and making sure haechan was watching, you began to slowly rub circles on your clit. “feels so good, hyuckie,” you moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. you were doing this on purpose and he knew it, getting closer and closer to his breaking point. deciding to spare him just a little, you gave him the go ahead to touch himself.

haechan was desperate, pathetically so, and pulled out his cock at lightning speed. he was so hard that it hurt. he immediately started to touch his poor cock, chasing a release that you refused to give him. but he couldn’t. it wasn’t the same if you weren’t touching him, stroking him to completion and telling him just how good he was for you. he let out another whine, face crumpling.

noticing his reaction, you let out a mocking laugh. “you wanted to touch so badly and now you’re complaining?” you ask, pulling your hand away from your clit. “i thought this was what you wanted?”

“i do, i do—it’s not, fuck,” haechan whines again, “it’s not the same. n-need you to touch me.” he was so humiliated, so close but so far from cumming. he looks up at you with watery eyes and quivering lips, pleading for your touch.

“you need me? even after your little outburst earlier? i thought you didn’t need me to touch your pathetic cock to feel good?” you ask, mocking him once again. he was so close to letting go, tears threatening to spill as he kept touching himself. “tell me how much you need it and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“p-please, touch me,” he cries, tears finally rolling down his face. “i need you to touch me, please! i can’t—can’t take it anymore, please,” haechan was full on begging now, overwhelmed with the need for you to touch him. every second without your touch was too much for him to handle, causing him to sob as he continued to babble about just how badly he needed you to touch him.

“that’s all you needed to say, hyuckie,” you coo, moving over to where he was. “you just need me to feel good, don’t you?” you ask, knowing the answer. haechan nodded, sniffling as he looked into your eyes. you leaned in, softly kissing him and wrapping your hand around his cock.

quickly starting to jerk him off and swallowing his moans, haechan was so close. you pulled away from the kiss, watching as he fell apart. “i’m s-so close, please,” he begs, thrusting into your hand.

“you were so good,” you praise, speeding up your hand as you stroked his cock. “cum for me, baby,” you whisper into his ear, finally giving him the permission to cum. his hips stuttered, a loud whine leaving his lips as he spills into your hand. you kiss him one last time, pulling your hand away from his spent cock.

“t-thank you,” haechan mumbles, face red as he tries to recompose himself. you couldn’t help but smile, so weak for your boyfriend. no matter how bratty he was, you always gave him what he wanted.

[ragingbookdragon]

A Vow To Keep

So'lek x Sarentu One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence

Author's Note: Man it's a hard line between So'lek x Sarentu and Eetu x Sarentu <3

**********************************************************************

“Trying to find someone?”

The voice startled her, and she looked up, seeing So’lek leaning against the wall of the command center, gazing intently at her.

She lowered her gaze back to the computer, tapping away at it. “Reading up on reports of Harding.” Her voice was sour, twinged with bitterness. “Easier to see what I’m looking for if I get a scope of the land from the satellite views.”

“It would be easier to see the land on the back of your ikran,” he said, walking over.

“Katir’s run ragged after our last fight with the Scorpions. She needs rest.” She reached a hand in her pouch, pulling out a few thumb drives. “Found some more rosters for you.”

So’lek took them, tucking them away safely. “You’ve been busy.” His eyes drifted to the pollution monitor; it favored higher into the green areas. “Very busy.”

She hummed in response, scanning the screen, and tapped a few more times. “Seems like there’s a few more bases to take down in the Plains. It’ll definitely put a dent in her operations. I’ll head back out tomorrow.”

As she stood straight, So’lek murmured, “You seem particularly intent to track Harding down.”

“No more than I am Mercer.” His gaze drifted to her back, and she turned, keeping it away. “I’ll leave in the morning. If I find more rosters, I’ll send them your way.”

She passed him, leaving him there; Nor and Ri’nela walked over. “She doesn’t like Harding.”

So’lek glanced at him. “That much I have gathered. Why?”

Nor opened his mouth, and Ri’nela hushed him. “She doesn’t like talking about it.”

“She isn’t here,” Nor shot back.

“It doesn’t matter. She always said it was a memory she didn’t like bringing up.”

The Na’vi frowned, glancing at So’lek. “Perhaps…you should ask her instead.”

***

So’lek stepped out into the night air, scanning the front of the base until his gaze landed on her at the far end of the water, quite a distance away. Quietly, he walked over, averting his gaze when he saw her nakedness from the water.

Before he could even speak, she said, “Mercer killed my sister. And Harding never let me forget it.” He drew his eyes back to her but kept them above her front; she turned around and his eyes widened at the sight of pale, jagged scars lining her back and shoulders. “Come,” she said softly, and he stepped into the water, watching as she held up her kuru for his.

So’lek drew his from his back and connected it to hers, chest heaving as the memories rushed through his mind.

***

“You’re getting sloppy,” Harding sneered, shoving her with her boot as she powered through the pushups. “That’s not proper form.”

She grit her teeth, sweat pouring from her brow as she pushed herself up and down on the sterile floor.

“Sloppy. You’d be eaten up in a second out there. Chewed up and spat out like waste of flesh you are.” Harding shoved her again. “Proper form!”

Her jaw clenched so tight; she could feel her teeth grinding with the strain.

“God, you’re so fucking pitiful, just like your sister. Stand up.”

She did as Harding said, standing up and looking down at her; suddenly, her face snapped to the side as Harding’s hand connected with it.

“Every failed pushup is another hit.”

“Do not hit me again,” she warned, and Harding’s eyes flashed.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“I said, do not hit me again,” she repeated, and her face cracked to the other side.

“If I were you, I’d remember who the fuck you think you’re—”

Fast as lightning, her hand shot out, snatching Harding by the jaw in a steel grip, lifting her up; she pulled the human woman face to face and bared her fangs, snarling, “Hit me again, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

For a moment, she saw the fear flash across the woman’s eyes before the hardened, and a stream of soldiers entered the gym, tackling her to the ground. The other Sarentu teens yelled, moving to them but stopped when guns were pointed their way.

Harding rubbed her jaw and snapped, “Teach her a new lesson.”

The soldiers shoved her to the ground, ripping the back of her shirt open and began beating her with the butts of their rifles. The other Na’vi cried out, Nor screaming at them in native tongue, Ri’nela holding a sobbing Teylan, tears in her own eyes. She felt each hit, but refused to cry out, glowering at Harding, even when the blood began to seep through the fabric of her shirt and down onto the floor. At some point, it felt like knives were skinning her backside, but she refused to back down, refused to give in and let the devilish woman see her pain.

Her vision blurred, head slumping as the beating came to an end and two soldiers hauled her up by her shoulders. Harding bent down, getting eye level with her. “I think this is a lesson well learned about threatening your superiors.”

She lifted her head and spat the blood in her mouth. It splattered across Harding’s face, and she vowed, “I’ll rip your heart out one day.”

Harding wiped her face and snorted, before punching her square in the jaw. “Not likely.” She looked at the soldiers. “Take her to solitary. A few weeks there should kill that rebellious spirit.”

Her vision faded as the soldiers carried her away, the cries of her fellow clan members in her ears.

***

So’lek inhaled sharply as she disconnected their kurus, the memory dissipating. He saw the withering anger in her eyes, the way the muscle jumped in her jaw. He breathed deeply, feeling the water lap at his hips. “I…” he didn’t know what to say to her.

“I’ll kill her one day,” she seethed, with barely restrained hatred. “I made that vow. And I intend to keep it.”

He gazed at her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do not let it consume you, this rage. It will eat away until you have nothing left.”

“What do I even have left, So’lek?” she asked. “No clan. No family. No identity. I have nothing. I am nothing.” She looked at her hands. “All I have is rage.”

So’lek walked in front of her, taking her hands in his own, calloused fingers brushing over her soft ones. “You are more.” She looked up at him, and a familiar ache nestled in his chest as he saw the tears in her eyes; he knew those tears. The tears of a survivor trying to find whatever shred of hope they could and cling to it. He lifted a hand from hers and brushed a braid behind her ear. “You are more, ma yawntu.”

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, and she shifted forward, burying her face in his neck. So’lek wrapped around her, one arm firmly at her waist, the other brushing through her hair. He whispered comforting words in Na’vi as she shook in his arms.

***

So’lek laid her on one of the soft beddings in the back of the base, pulling a blanket over her body. He gazed down at her, gently wiping the tears under her eyes, and bent down, hesitating a moment before his lips brushed against her temple. He knelt back, watching her for a few moments before he flicked off the light and left her to rest.

[strongheartneteyam]

I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Pairing: widowed!dilf!jake sully x younger!female!human!reader

CW: slight sexual language, can be triggering to some, heartbreak, age gap kink, hurt/no comfort, age gap relationship problems, angst, reader reminiscing (pls tell me if I missed anything) 

So, yeah... I never know when I'm gonna come back with another writing. My hiatus n working periods are all a bit unpredictable lol sorry. Anyways... I literally spent the whole night awake n I was struck by a sudden lightning of creativity early in the morning and I edited this chapter n wrote a bit more, but I still haven't slept at all, so, I apologize if some parts of this make no sense at all. I'll fix it when I can. Hope you guys like it <3 ily guys a whole lot :)) obs: this chapter is a shorter one.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 4 𓆩♡𓆪

They say all's well that ends well

But I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine

And that made me want to die

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

All Too Well - 10 minutes Version (Taylor Swift)

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been 1 year since the last time you saw Jacob Sully. Or Jakey, like you used to call him. The wound never healed. It still throbbed and bled every time you remembered the words he told you that dreadful day. "I think we should stop seeing each other." It felt like you would never get over him. How can one get over such an overpowering, raw feeling? He marked you forever, like a bruise that seemed to never disappear from your skin.

The flashback came like thunder in a storm, haunting your thoughts with a loud pain that echoed through your mind. What you told Jake that night.

“The truth is I love you. The truth is I can't take this anymore. I'm giving you my everything but you don't seem to be doing the same. You're still guarded.” There was a tense period of silence “Jake… I love you. But I don't think you feel the same.”

Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut, he would still be with you.

Ugh!! Stop that, now, (y/n)! Some self love, please? You're better than this. You deserve better.

You tried to convince yourself of that, at least.

The pain was unbearable at times and almost easy to conceal at other times. It depended on how distracted with work or your studies you were. These days you ran to any distraction that could ease the perpetual angst that squeezed your heart inside its hands all the fucking time. It had been like that ever since Jake left you. What were you expecting anyway? You should have known you were never truly loved by Jake. The love of his life was Neytiri and it would always be, alive and walking through Pandora or dead and with Eywa.

It felt beyond weird to have to hear people talking about Jake and have to pretend he was a stranger to you, someone you barely knew, when he had actually left a mark so strong on you, a memory ingrained in your brain, a feeling, a pain buried inside your heart that made you want to scream and hit your head against a wall. That's how much it hurt.

You would never have his body against yours again, warming you up when it was cold, after you spent the whole day in that damn lab, studying Pandoran plants but all you could really concentrate on was how much you missed his reassuring, protective presence. He made you feel safe for the first time in your life. But now he is gone. Just like every single good thing you ever had in your life. But you know what? Maybe your mother was right, maybe love wasn't really something that could ever last forever.

Did Jake ever really make a real effort to be with you? Thinking back, it was extremely easy for him to just come to you and fuck you anytime he felt sad and lonely. What if you had just been a naive, dumb girl all this time? Were you mourning a love that never actually existed? It was always so hard to talk to him about his feelings for you, he never actually let you in, to be honest. All the time you two spent together, you were never able to know if he ever saw you as a partner or just a fuck buddy. 

Oh, but the high… it was worth all the lows. The butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were almost caught fucking in the back of your work room by Norm. Eventually you guys had to tell him about your situationship because, oh well… he already knew what was going on, really. Norm is not a fool or a child. He could add 2 plus 2.

The adrenaline was worth all the tears. And, fuck… you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist:

@aonungsoneandonly

@coldbabyheroin

@fairyyrosee

@myh3artttt

@explosiongamora

@ufiy

@yeosxxx

@happyyappysworld

@avatar4eva

@henhouse-horrors

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@fujimoribaby

@layla2-49

@zoetrope1997

@yeosxxx

@luvv4j4ybe11

@bakugouswaif

@slytherdor01

[pogues4lifeee]

𓊔 abused - jj 𓊔

Summary: JJ gets abused by Luke, and so he texts y/n and she comes to pick him up and takes care of him

Warnings: detailed descriptions of physical abuse and injuries. If this triggers you, please skip this part

Word count: 2.6k

𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔

JJ pov:

“You’re a worthless piece of shit JJ, you know that?!” Luke yelled in my face. 

It was 8:30 at night, and he had been drinking all day since 5 am, so he was in his usual drunk state. The one where he would yell and abuse me. He’s been doing it since I was little. I’ve gotten somewhat used to it, however recently, he’s been hitting me more and more with more and more strength, causing worse injuries. 

This time, he was yelling at me because I didn’t put his one beer in the fridge, causing it to curdle

“Dad-” I started to say, before something hit my face, causing me to turn my head left. 

Luke had right jabbed me. I tried to fight back, but he kept punching me. Once in the face, once in the head, and once in the gut. He punched me again in the face. He picked me up by my neck and pinned me up against the wall, almost strangling me. He dropped me down on the floor and started to walk away, but I grabbed his ankle, tripping him and causing him to fall over. 

I tried to crawl away, but Luke got up fast and kicked me in the gut, causing me to fall onto my back, when he pinned me down and kept punching me in the face over and over for about 10 minutes until he was satisfied. I didn’t even try to fight back at this point. He stepped on my stomach one more time, and leaned into my face, lifting me by the shirt

“Don’t try to fuck with me ever again you little bitch” he said, before dropping me down again and walking away.

Once he walked away, I tried to get my phone out of my pocket, but my stomach was hurting too much and I could barely move. After 10 minutes, I managed to pull out my phone. I unlocked it and tapped on the first contact I could find, praying it wasn’t y/n. 

I hadn’t told her about my father’s abusive behaviour because I didn’t want to worry her. She already had to play therapist for her whole family, she didn’t need to worry about me. 

I tried to type out ‘help, my dad got to me again.’ knowing it was definitely a pogue. However, this was the worst my dad had ever done, so I’m not sure what I even typed. I felt like I was about to drift off, but I tried to stay awake, praying I had texted anyone other than y/n, before slowly drifting off to sleep, still bleeding from my mouth.

𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔

Y/N pov:

It was 8:57 pm. I was in my room on a facetime with Sarah and Kie to talk about a sleepover we were planning to have the next day. 

“So my place?” I asked

“Yup!” Sarah and Kie replied in unison

I was about to ask what they wanted for dinner when I got a message from my boyfriend, JJ. I opened it to see a bunch of random letters. 

“That’s weird,” I said.

“What happened y/n/n?” Sarah asked.

“JJ just texted me a bunch of random letters. I don’t know what they mean.” I said.

“Read them out.” Kie said.

“Okay. It just says hrji bu fwx hpe tj kq sjwov” I said. 

KIe and Sarah exchanged a look. 

“Guys, what's going on?” I ask, catching their exchanged glance

“Did JJ seriously never tell you?” Kie asked me sincerely.

“Tell me what?” I asked. 

They both fell silent.

“Guys, what didn’t JJ tell me?” I ask, my voice laced with concern.

“Just, go to JJ’s house right now.” Kie said. 

“Don’t ask questions right now, JJ will explain later.” Sarah added. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go to his place right now. Bye guys.” I said before hanging up the phone.

I grabbed my car keys and ran out of the house. I immediately started driving to JJ’s place. I was praying nothing was wrong. I got there at lightning speed. I set the car in park, not bothering to do a good job and ran up to his door. I opened it to see JJ laying semi-conscious on the floor and his dad nowhere to be seen. I ran up next to him and sat down on the floor. 

“JJ! What the hell happened?” I asked

“Shit… I was hoping I didn’t message you.” he replied weakly. He clearly looked injured. 

“Okay, I’m totally gonna ask you about this later but for now, come on.” I said, putting his arm around my shoulder and hoisting him up. I dragged him to the car since he could barely walk. I drove back to my house like a maniac and helped JJ up the stairs to my room. I got him into my bathroom and sat him down on the counter. JJ looked awful. He was about to fall asleep, blood on his lips and in his mouth, a black eye, and god knows what I would find under his clothes. 

“Take off your shirt.” I instructed him. He obliged, lifting his shirt off. I froze in horror. His entire stomach was covered in huge gashes and bruises.

“Good, now take off your shorts.” I said, wanting to make sure the cuts and bruises were confined to his upper body. He rolled down his shorts, and luckily there were only a few small cuts on his thigh. 

I pull a first aid kit out from the drawer. I opened the kit, pulling out rubbing alcohol, a medicine cream, cotton pads, and a white bandage roll.

“Okay, this is going to hurt like hell, especially with the cuts you have.” I said, opening the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaking a cotton pad with it. I held out my hand for him to squeeze. He took it and I started to press the cotton pad onto a cut on his lower stomach. He hissed at the pain and squeezed my hand.

“I know Jayj, but I have to do this before they get infected.” I say. I tried to go as fast as I could, but there was nothing I could do to stop the pain, especially as we got to the bigger cuts. After 25 minutes and 5 cotton pads later, I reached the last cut. It was above his right eye. I took out one last cotton pad and applied alcohol to it.

“Last one babe, you’re doing great.” I said. 

He looked up at me with a look of regret on his face. I reached up, pressing the cotton pad on the cut above his eye. I saw him shut his eyes and felt him squeeze my hand. I pressed a little harder, trying to make sure the cut was absolutely clean. 

“All right, we are all done with that babe, now I need to put this on your cuts and bruises.” I say, picking up the cream. I put some on my hands and dabbed it over his cuts. I could see the relief on his face as the ointment cooled down his cuts and bruises. Once I finished with that, I wrapped the bandages around his stomach and put a couple normal bandaids over the cuts on his face. 

“Alright, now let’s get you to bed.” I said. 

JJ nodded, hopping off the counter, wincing at the pain in his stomach. I ran over to help him.

“Take it easy Jayj, those were some really bad wounds.” I said, letting him lean on me and walked him over to my bedroom. 

I laid him down on my bed, and went to get him some water and painkillers. I returned a minute later. 

“Here, take these.” I said, holding out the pills.

“Thanks, y/n” he said, taking the pills from me.

I was relieved he finally spoke. Once he swallowed the painkillers and some water, I crawled into bed next to him. He immediately turned and buried his face in my chest, wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back, rubbing his back up and down. I let him fall asleep, deciding to talk to him in the morning. Once he fell asleep, I texted Kie and Sarah in the Pogue Girlies group chat.

y/n: hey guys, you were right. I went to JJ’s place and found him lying on the floor, bleeding from his mouth and he was covered in gashes and huge bruises. 

kieee: Omg is he ok now tho?

y/n: yeah, I brought him to my place and cleaned him up.

sarahhh: What’s he doing rn?

y/n: he’s asleep. I’m going to ask him about that in the morning.

Kieee: ok, well good luck babe!

y/n: thank you girlies

Sarah: no problem, now you get some sleep!

y/n: good night guys

Kie: night.

I locked my phone and put it on the table. I looked over and saw JJ staring at me. He was awake and was clearly waiting for me. I turned around so that I was facing him.

“Hey Jayj, you feeling ok now?” I asked gently

“Yeah… I’m sorry babe.” he said weakly.

“Why are you sorry?” I asked.

“Because I bothered you for no reason,” he said.

“Hey hey, stop it.” I said. “You were bleeding and bruised on your floor and about to pass out. Speaking of which, let me get you something to eat.” I said, getting out of the bed. 

“Please, stay.” JJ pleaded

“Let me just make you something to eat and then I’m all yours.” I said. 

“Deal.” JJ said.

I turned on the lamp next to me and left the room. I came back 15 minutes later with a sandwich and another glass of water. 

“Here you go Jayj.” I say, handing him the plate and setting the glass down on the table next to him. 

JJ took a bite of the sandwich, closing his eyes. I sat down on the bed across from him. He offered me a bite of the sandwich. 

“No, eat JJ.” I said. 

He continued to eat the sandwich.

“JJ, what happened?” I asked.

JJ sighed. 

“It was my dad. He’s been abusing me like that since I was 10, but this was the absolute worst round.” he said, choking back tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, shaking my head, going to hold his hand

“Because you’re already a free therapist to everyone including your own family, you didn’t need my dad’s drinking issues on your shoulders.” he said, letting the tears flow down his face.

“JJ, don’t you ever fucking hide anything from me ever again.” I said. 

“I won't, I promise.”  he says, finishing the sandwich. 

I go over to hug him and finally let him sleep again. 

𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔

I woke up in the morning to see JJ still asleep in bed. I got up and went to the kitchen to make him his favourite meal; a chicken wrap with tomato soup. I chopped all the veggies for the soup and sandwich and started frying the chicken and put the soup to simmer on the stove. I headed up to check on JJ to see his was awake in bed.

“Hey JJ.” I said. 

“Good morning baby.” he responded.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

“A bit, my stomach still hurts and I can barely move. Do you mind if I stay over again tonight?” he asks me.

“JJ,  you’re fucking moving in. I’m not letting you go back to that shitty father you have.” I said.

“But-” he started

“You have most of your stuff here or at the chateau anyways, so it’s fine. You’re not leaving” I cut him off. 

“Ok, fine.” he says.

“Wait, so let me get this straight.” I started. “So your dad gets drunk and physically attacks you, and all the pogues knew except for me?” I asked.

“Yeah, pretty much.” he said, feeling guilty. 

“I’m not going to blame you JJ. You had good intentions.” I said.

“I have to go check the food on the trove, but when I get back we have to change your bandages.” I said.

“As long as the rubbing alcohol stays in the bathroom.” JJ said.

“We might need it again.” I said, leaving the room. 

I could hear JJ groan as I left the room. I took the chicken off the trove and assembled the sandwich and blended the soup. I served it up and brought the plate up to JJ.

“Eat up.” I said, setting the tray in front of him.

“You shouldn’t have.” he said, picking up the sandwich and taking a big bite of it. He inhaled the food while I turned on the TV and tried to find a new show for us to watch. 

Once he set the empty plate down, I took his plate downstairs and got the first aid kit, pulling out the bandaids and rubbing alcohol. 

“No.. not the rubbing alcohol!” JJ teased, taking off his shirt.

I laughed while reaching over to unwrap the bandaids from his stomach. He winced slightly as I pulled the bandaid off his wounds. They were doing slightly better, but still needed alcohol. I picked up the bottle and a cotton pad, holding out my hand for JJ to squeeze. Today it went much faster and was much less painful. Once I put on some fresh bandages, I turned on Stranger Things and sat next to JJ, giving him forehead kisses all throughout the day. At 6:45, there was a knock at the door.

“Shit that must be the girls, I forgot to cancel.” I said.

“No need to cancel, it’s fine y/n/n.” JJ said.

“You sure?” i asked

 He nodded and with that I headed downstairs. 

“Hey girl!” Kie said when I opened the door.

“Hey you guys don’t mind if JJ’s here right? There’s no way in hell I’m letting him go anywhere right now.” I said.

“No problem at all!” Sarah said.

“We actually made a little gift basket for him.” Kie said.

Sarah handed me a basket with the rest of JJ’s clothes, some painkillers, and his favourite snacks of course including beer.

“Thank you guys so much!” I said, setting the basket down. 

The girls came in and went up to my room. I followed them carrying the basket in my hand.

“Hey jayj, look what the girls got you” I said, holding out the basket. 

He looked up and smiled at the girls.

“Thank you so much.” he said.

“How bad was it this time?” Sarah asked.

“Worst he’s ever done.” he replied. 

The girls sat down and gave him a hug. 

We spent the rest of the night watching movies and playing games. We also ended up facetime JB and Pope for fun.

“Good night guys!” you yelled down the hall into the guest bedroom, where Kie and Sarah offered to sleep.

“‘Night!” KIe called back. 

I shut off the light and crawled into bed. 

“NIght Jayj.” I said. 

“I love you y/n” he responded

“I love you too.” I said, giving him a kiss on the forehead and letting him drift off to sleep. I laid awake for a little while, thinking about how grateful I was. I was grateful for Sarah and Kie, the best friends in the world who got my boyfriend a gift basket, I was grateful for the fact that JJ was feeling better. But most of all, I was thankful for JJ, the boy who didn’t tell me about his dad so I didn’t have to worry, although I wished he would have told me, and with that, I drifted off to sleep.

𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔 𓊔

A/N: thanks for reading i just published this part on wattpad so I updated my tumblr and so I hope you enjoyed this part

[sprite-writes]

failed romantics

Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader (original female character)

Summary: Secrets can’t be kept forever, and what better time to reveal them than the Enterprise night shift.

Word Count: 5,902

A/N: yay another chapter!! I have been so excited to write this one since I started this series, I hope you all like it. As always very special thanks to @lightning-writes without them these chapters would literally never get finished LOL immediately after finishing this plz go check out their bucky series; good heart (faulty machine of a man) it kills me in the best way. anyways, thank you for reading plz like + comment if you enjoyed :)

Leonard can only barely make out Kirk’s face under the dim bulb, but he is pissed enough that Jim’s mug is the last thing he wants to see. The music is loud, so goddamn loud , loud enough that the whiskey did nothing for his headache. 

“This is not what I had in mind when you said you knew a place,” he yells over the music, staring down the side of Kirk's face. 

“What?” the captain calls back, still oblivious to Leonard's scowl. Kirk is absent, completely distracted by the crowd, more specifically the women . His gaze filters from person to person as they pass by the table, a dumb smile on his face the entire time. If steam could come out of Leonard’s ears, it would. 

“I said this isn't what I had in mind for tonight.” He reaches across the table and firmly flicks his friend’s temple. 

“Hey! What's your problem?” Kirk whines. Leonard is satisfied to have gotten his attention—finally. 

“You said you knew a nice place– you said it was a bar!” 

“Yeah and? This is both of those things!” 

“This is a goddamned petri dish!” 

It is. Leonard has refused to even allow his bare skin to touch the tabletop, weary of the unknown sticky substances covering it. There are so many bodies— human and otherwise— packed into the space, it's suffocating, and certainly a fire hazard. It's gross, downright unsanitary, and fucking loud.  

“You’re dramatic, Bones, it's nice enough. Loosen up! Maybe try to meet somebody. We’re only in Yorktown for a day, y’know?” 

Tipsy Kirk is a fucking idiot. 

Leonard recoils at the idea. The captain has gained this…habit lately. This advice-giving habit where he tells Leonard to relax, to get out there, to get laid, and every time it passes through Kirk's lips, Leonard becomes nauseous. He abhors this subject, he really does. The only thing he hates talking about more than his dating life is why he doesn’t have one. Sure, he hasn't had much of one since the divorce anyway, but whatever he did have quickly reduced to nothing after meeting Sunshine. He feels so childish even mulling his thoughts over, and how it feels pointless to consider any other woman interesting since he has already met Sunshine, who is the most interesting. Interesting and pretty. Interesting and pretty and kind. He shakes his head before he starts down his mental list (again). Somedays, it feels like his feelings will swallow him whole. It has been so long since he felt it, the wanting . Wanting to talk to her all the time, or hold her hand, or just be around her. It all makes him feel so juvenile, like he’s a lovesick teenager. She makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. It is the single most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced.

“I don't wanna associate with anyone who willingly steps foot inside this shithole,” he snaps, “C’mon man, let's go.” Kirk protests, of course, even more so as Leonard grabs him by the ear and pulls him up from the chair. He tells himself he’s doing Kirk a favor, that the last thing he needs is a hookup— that he’s certainly not taking out his frustrations on his friend. 

The pair weave through the bodies, with Kirk stumbling after his friend and out the door. The cool breeze hits them like a breath of fresh air, and Leonard takes it in. Kirk, on the other hand, furiously rubs his reddened ear. 

“What the hell was that for? Are you out to get me tonight?” 

Leonard feels a quick pang of sympathy, regretting lashing out. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but that place had me sweating like a damn sinner in church, there’s other bars, and it's getting late anyways–”

Kirk would usually push it, and Leonard could tell he wants to, which makes him all the more thankful he doesn’t.  

“Fine, fine, whatever but we are drinking when we get back to the ship,” he settles, leading the way home. 

Yorktown is cold and downright industrial. Leonard hates it. He would usually be thankful for a pit stop if it means he can feel non-artificial gravity, but, between the dirty club and Kirk’s antagonizing, he’s ready to be spacebound again. Both the Enterprise and the USS Endeavor are in Yorktown for the night, in the process of a personnel transfer. The streets are crawling with Starfleet members.

They walk in silence for most of the way, observing the larger-than-life city and the star crafts buzzing overhead. Leonard would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel a bit empty.  Perhaps the low-lit, music-blaring monstrosity would have felt more tolerable if a certain lieutenant was with him and not stuck with the enterprise night crew. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have even known that place existed if it wasn’t for Sunny,” Kirk laughs. Leonard scrunches his nose. 

“She recommended that barnyard?” he scoffs. 

“Oh god no, she told me to stay away from it. Said it was the grimiest place on this side of the universe. I just thought it sounded like a good time, y’know?” 

Leonard stares, really stares, and wonders why he keeps expecting better of Kirk. 

“You’re an idiot, and an ass. The woman gives you stellar advice, and you ignore it, and stick her with the skeleton crew.” 

Kirk stops so abruptly, that Leonard stumbles over him. 

“ I didn’t put her on the skeleton crew, she requested to be. You think I would make her work more than she already does? I’m not a tyrant, Bones.” 

What?  

“What?” Leonard says out loud. “Why would she ask to be holed up on the enterprise all leave?” 

“I mean, I would too if the alternative was running into my ex and all his coworkers.” 

Kirk laughs, Leonard’s head spins. 

“Her ex?” 

“Yeah her— she didn’t tell you any of this?” 

“She said she wanted Jameson to oversee the transfer, give him more experience or something, so you put her on his night shift.” 

“No? She wanted Jameson to do it because she used to be engaged to the Endeavors head of security.” 

Leonard blinks. And blinks again. 

“Dude, I don’t even know how to change the schedule,” Kirk adds. 

 Suddenly, despite talking to her everyday for close to a year, she feels unfamiliar. Engaged? He can hardly imagine it, nor does he want to. Pictures of Sunshine flash through his mind, and he clenches his fist. 

“Didn’t know she had been engaged,” he feigns a casual tone.

Kirk furrows his brows. 

“ You didn’t know? You of all people?” Leonard shrugs, as his stomach forms a knot. “She tells you everything, and she’s never mentioned Ryder?”

“Christ, his name is Ryder ?”

“I know! Douchebag name, right?” 

He doesn’t respond for a beat, which turns into several beats. The gears in his head turn and turn. Engaged . He doesn’t understand why the idea eats at him. He himself had been married for years. So what if she was engaged? There is no reason for him to be upset that his friend—a coworker–had an ex. 

He feels nauseous. 

Kirk clears his throat, derailing Leonard's train of thought.

“You’re right, it’s late, we should head back,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. Leonard follows him, hands in his pockets.

“Do y’know what happened?” he asks finally. Kirk casts him a sideways glance.

“What, between them? Not a clue,” Kirk says with sincerity enough for Leonard to believe it. “She wasn’t really keen on discussing it.” He pauses and looks at the ground as they walk. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it though, Bones, I think everyone sees she’s only really got eyes for one person these days.” 

“Don't start, Jim,” Leonard warns hotly, clenching his jaw. 

“Start what? I’m not starting anything. I’m just laying out the facts.” Jim hiccups. “She adores you, man, like adores -”

“Sunshine ‘adores’ everyone she meets. We’re friends—good friends, but that's all.” His patience shrinks as his annoyance grows.

Jim laughs mirthlessly.

“No, Sunshine and I are good friends. Whatever you two are is something else entirely-” 

“Anyone ever tell you you don't know when to shut up?” His tone is as cold as the night air, and Jim shuts up.

Leonard wishes Kirk would drop the subject, trip over a rock, or whatever it took to never have this conversation again. Really—what he truly wants is for everyone to stop dangling this hope in front of his face like a carrot. He’s not an idiot, he knows he spends more time with the lieutenant than his colleagues, hears her laugh more often, and knows her habits better.

 He knows what it looks like. He also knows that he's a bitter emotionally closed-off divorcee— 

He tells Jim that Sunshine is his friend because she is—and he denies wanting anything more because It's stupid to want things out of his reach. 

Frustration heats his cheeks and begins to bloom into a headache. He knows Kirk means well, but that fact does little to comfort him. 

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Kirk surrenders, his voice soft. “But there is one last thing you should know,” He pauses at the crosswalk and turns to Leonard. Eerily stoic, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Leonard's breath hitched. 

“Ryder’s got nothing on you in terms of looks, okay? Seriously he's like, 5’7, and his face isn't at all symmetrical-”

Leonard revs up and smacks Kirk in the back of the head harder than he ever had and feels no regret. Not even after Kirk's high-pitched “ Ouch!”

“Would you quit it! You gossip like a damn schoolgirl!”

The sign blinks at them to walk, and Leonard drags Kirk across the street, fingers digging into his arm. 

“Ow, ow, I was just saying-“

“Wait a minute,” Leonard lets his friend go and smooths down his sleeve. “How do you know what he looks like anyway?” 

Kirk puts himself at a safe distance from the Doctor, cradling his arm. “Well, the operations manager would usually talk to the department heads during a transfer, but Sunshine passed him off to me. I said no at first, obviously, because I hate managing, but then she finally told me she was almost Mrs. Ryder Denver. So yeah, I spoke with him a few times, just business. Have to say though, I couldn't imagine them together. He comes off as a bit of a douche.” 

Leonard breathes deeply, reigning in the emotions that he doesn’t need Kirk to pick up on. The idea of Sunshine being engaged does enough to unsettle him without knowing that the man in question “ came off as a douche” . He feels something boil under the surface. 

“Yeah?” is all he can strangle out. 

“Yeah—He’s like a classic douchey security buff,” Kirk continues, unaware of his friend's white knuckles. “You know the kind– uptight, condescending, has one earring and thinks it's edgy-”

“Wears their uniform a size too small? Yeah, I know the type.” 

“Exactly, and Sunshine is so…so-”

“Heart-of-gold?” 

“Yeah! Opposites attract I guess, but I don't know, something was off.” 

To Leonard, the entire thing is off. All of it. Everything . He doesn’t understand why Sunshine decided he doesn’t get to know, why it is a secret in the first place, why she almost married a douche, why he cares so damn much . 

The enterprise comes into view like the sun on the horizon, and Leonard is relieved . 

“Your arm’s all right?” Leonard asks, an apology without apologizing. Jim knows this and breathes a laugh. 

“Yup, the ear’s fine too.” 

The Doctor nods, but his eyes remain trained in front of him. Through the glass window panes, he eyes the ship, eager to hide away in the familiar place. He would have opened the door for Kirk, as a gesture, but of course, the Yorktown Federation Port has to have automatic doors. He huffs, and the artificial lights illuminate his red cheeks. They approach their home in silent tandem, their shoes clinking against the hard floors. 

“You should talk to her, Bones,” Kirk breaks the quiet, head down while he taps the access code to the enterprise hull. “Ask her why she didn't mention the ex. I’m sure she has a good reason, probably one you'll wanna hear.” 

Leonard wants to be mean. He wants to shake Kirk's words off with an insult and go to bed. But he swallows his pride, and it goes down like nails.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Hope. It bubbles up within his chest, and he pushes it down. Finally, the stark white enterprise interior greets him. He breathes a little easier. 

Kirk stumbles over the first step— “ Woah ”-- and Leonard steadies him with a raised eyebrow. “Andorian ale finally catching up with you?” 

“Pfft,” Kirk scoffs. “Couldn’t catch me if it tried.” 

Leonard pauses, then laughs, the first genuine one all night, and it has Kirk grinning back. 

The enterprise is empty, its residents still on the streets they just returned from. So, without restraint, they laugh, and Kirk stumbles, and Leonard forgets for a moment about the unsaid feelings under his skin. 

Kirk is an idiot, and he’s a good friend.  

He’s happy to banter about whatever comes out of Kirk's drunk mouth and to correct him when he takes a wrong turn in his own ship. Leonard claps his hand on his shoulder and drawls, “It’s this way, captain .”

“Uhh, no , Chekov keeps the good whiskey in his locker, this way,” Kirk insists with a point down the hallway, and Leonard is amazed at his eagerness to get blacked out the night before embarking. 

“Are you out of your mind? No way. You can drink like a fish when you don't need to fly a starship in the morning.” 

“What are you, my mom ?” 

Christ.

“No, but I pity the poor woman,” he huffs and gestures down the hallway leading to his quarters. Kirk frowns and scrunches his nose.

“Raincheck, Kirk, c’mon.” 

He begrudgingly obliges, having given his friend a hard enough time tonight anyway. The yawn that crawls out of his mouth a moment later corroborates Leonard's decision. He is tired, and Kirk shouldn't drink anymore, but he’d be lying if he said those were his only motives to end the night early.

“You win this one, Bones, but next time I swear we'll be out till sunrise,” he says between another yawn and a hiccup. 

“Uh-huh. Try not to trip.” Leonard reminds himself of the virtue of patience and keeps walking. 

Kirk manages to type in his room's access code all by himself, with only a moment of squinting, and a break to roll up the black sleeves of his turtleneck. Leonard is impressed, and the bar is low. 

“Drink a bottle of water, and get some sleep, We’ll talk tomorrow.” he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for protest. 

Kirk only hums. “You headed to your room?”

 The doctor's fingers drum against the doorframe. “Was thinking I’d check in on Sunshine,” he says, blinks, and rushes out, “and the rest of the Skeleton crew, of course.  Maybe medbay too, then I’ll hit the hay.” He fleetingly wonders if that sounds believable, or at least casual. 

 Kirk smiles a genuine smile. “Sounds like a good plan, Bones. See ya in the morning, and tell her I said hi .” Before he can react, his friend waves, and the door slides shut. Then, he’s alone in the hallways, and he has to put his money where his mouth is. 

Shit . 

The way to the bridge feels daunting now, like climbing Everest. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever, several pounds of emotional baggage, and a Starfleet captain breathing down his neck.  He considers just going to bed, pretending he never even mentioned the whole thing. Maybe even pretend he doesn't care to get answers. He can just leave it be. 

The desire to see her trumps all of it. 

The halls are deserted, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t need anyone around to watch him squirm in the elevator. A deep breath, a punch of the open elevator button and—

“I told you I don't have any threes! Go fish, again .” 

He sees the back of the captain's chair first, then Starfleet-issued black boots hanging off of it. The whoosh of the door draws the attention of the room to him. Eyes sweep through the vaguely familiar faces of the night crew, all six staring at him like they are waiting for an explanation, which he doesn’t really have. The heeled black boots plant themselves on the ground, the captain's seat swivels around. His heart works double time. 

“ Leonard ? Hi! What are you doing here?” 

Sunshine’s got a hand of cards between her pointer and her thumb, and a sweatshirt pulled over her uniform dress, and it distracts Leonard for longer than it should. He clears his throat, and it shakes loose the feelings stuck there. 

“Just thought I'd check in on our hard working night crew, who is surely on task.” He descends the bridge steps. 

“Well, then, you'll be happy to hear that I am, in fact, glancing at my station every 20 minutes, and I’m the undefeated go-fish champion.” 

She waves the cards at herself like a fan, legs crossed and smile wide. 

“Undefeated, huh? Glad to see your talents going to good use.” Her smile gets a bit brighter, and she does a quick breathy laugh with her nose. For a moment there's quiet, and Leonard begins scrambling for a way to ask her the thing he wants to ask her. The bridge is crowded, for a skeleton crew, he thinks. The redshirt to Sunshine’s left breaks the silence before he can. 

“I’m not sure if I’d call it talent…I’m pretty sure she's cheating,” they grumble, and Sunshine doesn't spare a moment, whipping the chair around. He can almost see the panic fill her eyes, like she’s just been accused of a heinous crime. 

“I’m not! Are you still thinking about that last round? Because that was—”  

Even Leonard winces a bit at her shrill tone, and he’s pretty sure she just woke the navigator who had fallen asleep at his station, so he claps his hands on her shoulders. 

“Sounds to me like this card game has you wound like a spring,” he interrupts her before her voice jostles anyone else awake. 

She pouts, lip jutted out and everything. 

“Let's go for a walk,” he suggests. He doesn’t even let his nerves talk him out of it. She looks at him curiously, her eyebrows drawn. 

“I dunno, I probably shouldn’t leave…” 

“I’m sure someone else can deal cards while you’re gone,” he tells her, already offering his arm. 

The Ensign, Leonard still doesn’t know their name, waves her off. “Go, Lieutenant, It's fine. I’m sure we can handle a few minutes without you.” 

She bites her lip and cautiously loops her arm around his, leaving the captain's chair to her subordinate. 

“Alright, but don’t start a new game without me,” she warns lightly. 

Leonard doesn’t get nervous with her arm looped around his, really he doesn’t. He’s headfirst into this thing now, no room for nerves. 

She drinks her whiskey neat, he learns, and it surprises him. Surprises him even more when she downs it like a shot. 

The walk there had been quiet mostly, except for when Sunshine regaled the stories of her card game wins. 

“Did you have a nice time with Kirk?” she asks politely.

“I dunno if I’d say that, but maybe Jim would disagree.” 

She laughs lightly, and her finger traces the lip of the whiskey glass. He doesn’t know if it’s the best idea, but he refills her cup. 

There is a beat of silence, and the conversation with Kirk pushes to the front of his thoughts. There's a heaviness on the tip of his tongue, the desire to ask why . Without really knowing how to. 

“Wish I could’ve gone with you guys,” she says, her gaze downcast. There's a rare melancholy to her tone, something vulnerable woven into it. 

“You could’ve,” he tells her, and her eyes pull from the table.

“I had--”

“Yeah, I know what you– I just mean–I’m sure Kirk would have given you the night off if you asked… God knows he owes you enough favors.” 

“I guess,” she shrugs, “it wasn’t really the best night for it, though.” 

He could go along with her lame excuse, vaguely agreeing that, yeah, there will be other nights. But the ache to know what exactly goes on in her pretty head has words tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, Kirk mentioned somethin’ like that,” he mumbles, nerves permeating the sentence. 

“...what?” 

Shit.

“I mean, he may have-”

“What exactly did he mention?” Her tone holds a sharp undercurrent of something rare for Sunshine– anger.

Leonard runs a hand down his face, suddenly thinking of all the much more tactful ways he could have begun this. The gentle buzz of alcohol still in his bloodstream keeps him from panicking. 

“Nothing terrible, just that there was someone in town you wouldn’t wanna see.”

“As if ,” she scoffs. “Kirk’s never been that vague in his life.” 

“…fair enough.” 

She groans miserably, fitfully pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and burying her face in the fabric. 

“You were not supposed to find out like this,” she says, muffled. 

“And how was I supposed to find out?” He asks quietly, like the question will frighten her away. 

A sniffle comes from behind her hands–the sound tugs at his heart. 

“ I don't know. Maybe someone could have told you when I’m dead and then we’d never have to have this conversation.” 

He reaches for her slowly, taking her wrists in a gentle hold and pulling them away from her face, revealing her reddened nose and watery eyes. Her hands are cold, and grow stiff under his touch. 

“Sunshine. It's an ex , not a damn intergalactic scandal. There are worse conversations to have,” he reasons. 

“You don't get it,” she tells him matter-of-factly, pulling her hands from his touch. Embarrassment quickly heats his body, and he wipes his palms on his pants. 

“I’d get it a lot more if you talked about it.” He flexes his jaw, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

She narrows her eyes, punctuating her glare with a sniffle. 

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would’ve.”

“With Kirk? Because he seems to get it.” 

“Why are you acting so—”

“Concerned? Oh, I dunno because you’re my friend?” Exasperation colors his tone.

“I was gonna say entitled,” she grits out. Her anger comes out half-heartedly, sounding more like watery sadness than anything. “I don't tell you everything, and I don't have to. You’re not my-” She sighs. “Why does it matter? I was engaged for like, a year, and now, I’m not.” 

You’re not my–

Her half sentence sticks in his mind and sends blood rushing to his head. He thinks of all the things that he is to her: a colleague, a doctor, a friend. All the things he isn’t feels like a gaping hole. 

He watches her clench her fists and force her tears back. 

“It matters because it upsets you enough to work the night shift,” he sighs, the anger he’s been holding seeps out of his hands like water. “I’m not pressing you for the latest gossip, Sunny. I’m asking because it would be lousy of me not to.” 

She says nothing, taking in his words. 

“I’m no stranger to this stuff, y’know,” he prods her gently. “My ex-wife sent me running all the way to space .” He says lightly, and the corners of her mouth twitch up briefly.

“He didn't send me running, I sent him,” she confesses, shaking her head. 

“ You ?” 

“Me. The thing is,” she shrugs, “it should have worked, y’know? Like on paper, it was perfect. Ryder and I were academy sweethearts, liked all the same shit, were top of our classes, blah, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes. “Our friends used to tease us, say that it wasn't fair, and we were too in love.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she says, sighing. Her eyes drift nowhere in particular. “It didn’t feel nice after a while though. It felt suffocating. I was half a person with him, we were Ryder and Sunshine–and that was one entity.” Her tears dry on her lashes, as she becomes entrenched in the memory. 

“But the person we were wasn’t me . Because he never thought my jokes were funny, or my hobbies were interesting or my friends were cool, so I was willing to throw them all out. Eventually all that was left was him. His ideas, his wants, his needs. I was backed into a corner. I should’ve left when I realized but I loved him… and I was really scared of being alone.” 

She pushes her hair behind her ears and lets out a shaky breath. 

“I was a coward, and I couldn’t leave. I wanted to try and fix it, figure out who I was, and then maybe Ryder could love that person,” She shakes her head. “I was naive. Ryder always wanted someone I couldn’t be. Someone quieter or someone better at being a person. I’m always so all over the place you know? Too much for him.”

“You’re not–”

“It's okay, Len, you don't have to say anything.” she says, meeting his eyes again, taming the budding fire in his heart. 

The idea of Sunshine being anything but completely herself unnerves him. Her jokes are funny, he can’t recall ever laughing as much before she boarded the enterprise. Her ramblings about xenobotany and classic earth songs never fail to catch his attention, even when he barely knows what she's talking about. Being around Sunshine is as easy as breathing, and he’s starting to need it as much too. 

“Anyways, he proposed our senior year, like we weren’t a sinking ship, and I said yes and pretended like the ring wasn’t a last-ditch attempt to bring us back to life.” 

Her teeth sink into her lip, her eyes dragging to her lap.

“I don't know what it was, but one night I just…broke. I couldn’t keep pretending to be someone I wasn’t, or beg to be loved.”

A few tears slide down her cheeks, she scrubs them away with her sleeve.

Leonard wants to tell her that she should never have to beg for anything in the first place, least of all love; he wants to tell her that she's worthy just the way she is. His fingers twitch with the desire to take her by the shoulders and tell her over and over that she’s perfect, that she couldn’t be too much if she tried. Sunshine has always had a magnetic pull to her, drawing in everyone she meets with her warmth. The idea of anyone taking that away from her pulls his heartstrings tight enough to snap. He holds back his anger, refraining from telling her that Ryder is an asshole who didn’t deserve a second of her time. 

The wiser part of him knows that's not what he needs.

“We had planned to be on the USS Endeavor together, but I rescinded my application. I signed up to do on-planet research instead. I wrote a long letter, left it on our bed, packed up my things, and left.” 

She coughs in a way that he knows is covering up a sob and takes a deep breath. The sound sends a pang of emotion through him.

“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. We were engaged, for Christ's sake, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I left him. And don’t even get me started on the fallout. We had all the same friends, and our families were so close… it was all so humiliating . Everyone expected us to live happily ever after, and then, there I was, giving him back his ring in a coffee shop.”  

She knocks back the rest of her drink, like a consolation prize for getting all the words out. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Len. I never wanted you to think of me like that, as someone who would do that.” 

“ Sweetheart ,” he says like a plea, calling her attention. “No one in their right mind would think differently of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you– or at least they shouldn’t.” 

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence. 

“But I–”

“I know. You didn’t go about it the way you maybe should’ve– or the way you wanted to. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you any less… good.”

She hiccups, her chest rising and falling rapidly as another stream of tears drips down her cheeks. He can't help himself – and even if he could, he doesn’t want to – he brings both hands to her cheeks, wiping away the salty tears. 

“It's alright,” he says gently, swiping his thumb under her eye again. “You’re alright.”

She nods, breaths finally evening out, and his hands reluctantly fall back onto his lap. 

He remembers well the storm of feelings his divorce left him with. The gulit, the lonliness, feeling like the world was ending. 

“I get it, y’know. The shitty relationship, becoming somebody you don't wanna be,” the barstool squeaks as he leans on the counter. He hasn't talked about his marriage since he told the story to Kirk years ago. It feels odd to tell it again. 

“My ex and I met in college, fell head over heels, and I proposed a year later. I thought… well, we both thought we were soulmates. There was this connection between us that I’d never felt before, and I thought this must be it.” 

“After a year ?” she gawks. He casts her a sideways glance and chuckles. 

“A perfect year, mind you. Not a single disagreement, not a bad date– every day was straight out of a damn love story or something. Until we got hitched, that is. Then it was all disagreements.”

 He anxiously taps a rhythm on the bar top. The memory still burns him now, of the fiery conflict, of the sleepless nights. 

“We were the same in all the worst ways, stubborn, headstrong, prideful. We couldn't settle an argument to save our lives. It probably didn't help that I was in the middle of residency and pulling 100-hour weeks. It was miserable. I hardly recognized myself… I know I don’t have the best temper, but I never wanted to be an angry person.” 

He lets out a slow breath, “I was mad as hell when she called it quits, said a lot of stuff I regret. But she was right to do it. We brought out the worst in each other, I was just too narrow-minded to see it. All this to say, I’m sure I would have taken the night shift to avoid her too.” 

Sunshine rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, her thumb pressing circles into the muscle. 

“I’m sorry, Len.”

He leans into her touch without thinking about it. “These things happen,” he tells her decidedly. “When something’s not right, there's nothing you can do to change that. You do the best you can with where you’re at, that's all.” He pictures himself, young and full of fire, holding onto something that had already slipped away. “Which you did, Sunshine. I know it’s hard to see now, but I promise it gets easier.”

When he drags his gaze from the mahogany bar top back to Sunshine, she's watching him curiously. 

“What am I supposed to see?”

“That you were young, and scared, and you did what you needed to for yourself. Even if it's not shit you’re proud of, it makes you who you are. You learn, and it makes you better.” 

She says nothing, silently considering his words for several moments. “Well, it better get easier soon, because it sucks .” 

He chuckles, “That it does.” 

 She reaches right past him and grabs the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“We should toast,” she says, the melancholy in her voice fading away, probably tucked back behind a wall. “To failed marriages.” 

She’s already refilling their glasses and lifting hers to bump with his. 

“Thought you ducked out on the whole wedding thing?” he teases. 

“Fine then, to failed romantics,” she impatiently shakes the ice in her glass, “Just do it.” 

He knocks his glass with hers and agrees, “To failed romantics, and night shifts, and all the other shitty stuff.”

Her face pinches as she finishes her drink. Gingerly, she takes both of their glasses and stacks them behind the bar. 

Like ripping a bandage off and letting the wound breathe, Leonard feels lighter. As Sunshine hops off the bar stool and straightens her uniform skirt, he can see on her face that she does too. 

“Thank you for the drink, and the talk, Len,” she says, and he waves her off. 

“Don't mention it.” 

“ Totally gonna mention it,” she grins, “and when the schedule suddenly gives you two days off in a row, you’ll know why.” 

He laughs, and shakes his head, “I don’t think that's allowed, Lieutenant.” 

“I have my ways,” she says innocently, as she saunters to the door. 

He watches her go, everything she’s told him still buzzing in his head. He can hardly make sense of everything he’s feeling at once, but there's one thought that sticks out among the rest, that sits on his chest, demanding to be heard. 

“Sunshine?” he calls before she’s gone, giving into his relentless mind.

“Yeah?”

When she turns around, he’s flooded with everything he’s ever wanted to tell her. How she has seeped into every part of his life since he met her, despite his once armored heart. How she doesn’t see it, but she's changed the entire atmosphere of the bridge, pouring life into it with her energy. How she's taught him how to be a better friend, a better man, even a better doctor. How she’s not too much, she's everything. 

 “You should know, you’re never too much, that's ridiculous. Anyone on this ship would agree in a heartbeat. Don’t know what I’d– what we’d do without you,” he rushes out. “I hope you never think you need to be anything other than who you are.”

She goes still in the door frame and observes him for a moment. He flounders in her silence, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. She suddenly moves from the doorway, quickly striding towards him, the sound of her boots clacking on the floor. He has no time to react before she gently places her hand on his chest. She wastes no time, leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” she says meaningfully, searching his eyes for a brief moment before she turns heel again. She’s out the door without him even mustering up a word to say. 

His skin heats where her lips had touched him, a crackling feeling left in their place. He lifts his fingers to the skin, ghosting over the sticky remnants of her lipgloss. 

He sits, dumbfounded, knowing he’s gone somewhere there's no coming back from.     

[sylestine-redacted]

I don't even have a title for this shit rn...

The Red Moon

A/n: she so hot!! And controls weather!? Cmon this match up was made to happen. Anyways let's pretend we're her...

I cannot get this pair out of my head (I don't even like Marvel like that i swear...)

---

You felt him long before you saw him.

The pressure in the air changed—like the calm before a tornado, but wrong. It wasn't wind. It wasn’t the whisper of atmosphere bracing to break. It was something deeper. Older. It tugged at your bones like ancient gravity, like the breath of something buried beneath the bedrock of the universe, exhaling once after millennia of silence.

You followed it across space and storm. Not because it was your duty. Because it shouldn’t exist.

And now you stood on a broken world, where even the ground seemed unsure of its shape. Obsidian cracked under your bare feet. The air trembled with ghosts. And in the center of it all, he stood—towering, crimson, and terrible.

His presence wasn't just physical. It was like looking into a star that remembered what it had burned.

One eye watched you. Not with lust. Not with hate. Something worse. Recognition.

“You trespass,” you said, voice steady. You kept your stance loose—controlled. Let him think you weren’t ready. Let him underestimate you.

He tilted his head, amused. “So do you.”

You didn’t know what he was yet. Too massive for a man. Too solid for a warp entity. Maybe something between. Maybe something that shouldn't have survived its birth. You’d seen gods, fought titans, quelled cataclysms. But nothing made the air feel this thin before.

“You’re leaking through the veil,” you said. “Warp-taint. Psychic burn. I smelled it from halfway across the system. Whatever you’re doing here, it stops now.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t rise to your threat.

“I was remembering,” he said. “This world holds... echoes. I came to listen. Instead I find a storm wearing a woman’s skin, speaking like a queen without a crown.”

He was trying to bait you. He didn’t realize—you were baited before you arrived.

You saw his power moving under his skin like liquid fire. Not wild. Not chaotic. Held in check by force of will alone. That made him worse than dangerous. That made him disciplined.

“I know a daemon when I see one,” you said.

That finally made something shift behind his eye—anger, maybe. Pain. Hunger.

“You mistake me,” he said. “I am not a creature of the warp. I was born of it. Sculpted. Perfected. I am what comes after men stop being men.”

“And I’m what comes when gods forget why they exist.”

And then it began.

Not a fight.

A revelation.

His psychic force hit like a collapsing mountain. You met it midair with thunder in your veins, every cell in your body singing with lightning. You felt yourself stretch, riding the current, becoming more than solid. His flame melted the air. Your wind scattered it. His mind pressed against yours like a clawed hand testing the shape of your soul—and you shoved back.

It was intimate. Too intimate. Like touching minds through blood.

He bled first. You saw it.

A flicker of pain. A moment where his jaw clenched, and you saw not a conqueror, but something abandoned—by faith, by brothers, by destiny. That was when you landed beside him.

Not out of pity.

Because you needed to see it up close.

His shoulder steamed with a burn he hadn’t healed. His breath came hard. His eye tracked you, uncertain now.

“I could bring down this moon,” you said. It wasn’t a threat. It was a reminder.

“Then why haven’t you?” he asked.

“I don’t kill wounded animals.”

“I’m not wounded,” he rasped. “I’m starving.”

His voice… something about it. Like a confession spoken in a dead language.

Your hand moved before you fully realized. Around his throat. Not to squeeze. Just to feel. The pulse there. The heat. The power. No one this dangerous should feel this alive.

He didn’t flinch.

“What are you?” he asked.

You stared at him. Felt his breath. The warp coiled behind his skin like a leash ready to snap. You could have crushed him. You should have. Instead—

“You can’t name me,” you said. “And you don’t get to.”

That landed like a cut. Deeper than he wanted to admit.

He didn’t ask again.

Then, quieter, voice low enough that it might’ve been your own heartbeat imagining it:

“Break me.”

And something inside you—something that had waited—opened like a bruise.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

The space between you tightened until it felt like touching would collapse the world.

---

Listen, LISTEN, there are not many situations I can imagine where we get to break a primarch down. This here, is one of them.

(*´ﾉ∀`*)

[eden-writes-stuff]

wb wolfstar where they get into a car crash in the middle of nowhere and Remus gets badly injured??

fucking finally. Sorry.

tags: angst, injury, dead animals, possibly dead mc

"Maybe we should switch," Remus insisted.

"I'm fine. I didn't have that much anyways." 

"I know you drank more than you want to admit. At least put your seatbelt on."

"I said, I'm fine!

Remus shook his head, focussing on the dark street in front of them. They hadn't seen another car in almost an hour.

Sirius was a good driver, Remus knew that. But he also knew that he tended to get reckless when he was drunk. And after that last Tequila, he'd had he was already happier than normal.

Sirius turned up the music and kept driving way over the speed limit. They both just wanted to get home.

The rain hit hard against the windshield while Sirius stirred them through the darkness.

Lightning flashed, drawing Sirius' attention toward it long enough to miss the road curve right before them.

The tires slipped on the wet asphalt and stirred right toward the edge of the street. The last thing Sirius heard before passing out was Remus screaming.

~

Everything hurt. His clothes and hair clung to his skin.

He wasn't in the car anymore. The car... Remus!

Immediately he pushed himself to his feet but fell over again when a stabbing pain shot through his leg. Sirius suppressed a scream.

Remus was everything that was important right now.

"Moony! Moony!"

He wiped the hair from his eyes, but still could barely see further than his own nose. He crawled forward and immediately started sliding. The ground felt wet and slippery and was probably ruining his suit.

When he reached the bottom of the hill he tried to get up from the ground. His left hand found something warm and slimy before sliding off of it into the grass.

Only now did he notice the faint scent of wet fur and... blood.

"Remus?"

He fumbled around in the grass for a moment before finding the body again.

It was small and warm. Just the size that fits into both hands. The fur probably would have been soft if it hadn't been for the rain. The body was limp and unmoving.

Sirius gagged and drew back.

He shook his hands out of fear of maggots or other insects, brushing them off on his trousers.

A flash of lightning focused him back on his goal.

"Remus!" he screamed, looking around the darkness.

Aimlessly, he crawled onward, ignoring the aching pain in his leg.

After a while, he heard music.

Their music. Music from their radio of their car!

Sirius forced his body into a vertical position and quickly stumbled toward the music.

"Remus? Remus, are you in there?" Still no answer.

It took him a while to figure out how the car was lying.

The surface he first touched was the roof. When he moved to the left, it was lowering quickly into the front window. The passenger side was on the ground.

Sirius hissed when something cut into his hand. The door on the driver's side had been ripped out of its hinges, leaving a sharp edge.

Carefully, he looked around inside, with the dim radio as his only light source.

He couldn't see an airbag. He should be able to see that, even in the darkness, right?

He needed to get help. He couldn't let Remus die because of his drunken stupidity.

He couldn't be responsible for Remus' death. He wouldn't survive it.

A phone! He needed a phone. Something to call for help with.

But the car was too wide for him to reach inside.

"Moony? Come on, please, I need you to work with me here. You're the smart one. Tell me what to do," he begged into the silence. Of course, there was no response.

If he tried to get Remus from the car, he might hurt him in the progress.

He needed to find help. Somewhere. Someone. Soon.

Now.

"Help! Please Help us!" he screamed against the rain, as loud as he could.

No one answered.

[fandomworld9728]

Total Drama: Revenge of the Island x Reader - Chapter 1:

Laughing as she flew through the air, (Y/n) squealed when she hit the cold water. Coming to the surface, she giggled. "That was awesome! I wanna do it again!" Hearing a scream, the cheerleader winched as she saw Cameron smack into a rock. "Ouch..."

"Is this what pain tastes like?" Sliding off the rock, he fell into the water with no signs of coming back up.

"Oh, man." Going back under, (Y/n) pulled him to the surface and held him up. "Wicked wipe out, man."

Coughing up whatever was in his lungs, Cameron took a deep breath and floundered around a moment until he grabbed her shoulders. "You... you saved me again?"

Swimming past, Scott barely spared them a glance. "Spaz."

"I don't see any girls trying to help you, farm-boy."

Pausing to take a better look, Scott gave the cheerleader a once over before sending her a smirk. "Not yet. Just you wait, doll. Sooner or later, you'll be beggin' to be in my arms."

"I don't think so, pit sniffer."

Coming up from the water, Lightening held Cameron with one hand above his head and swam off. "I'll save you, little girl!"

"I'm a boy!"

(Y/n) couldn't stop her giggles from escaping at the sight. "Hey! Wait for me!" Trying to keep up with the two, she got distracted when noticing Dakota lounging in a cute pose on a life raft while paparazzi took her pictures.

"Hi fellas! How ever did you find me?"

"Uh... we got your text."

Rolling her eyes at how clueless the men were, (Y/n) sent the heiress a flirty whistle. "Lookin' good Dakota!"

Blushing, the blonde blew the other girl a kiss. "You're not so bad yourself. Even waterlogged you're pretty cute and your makeup is still perfect! We totally need to have some girl talk later."

Back on shore, Chris was watching all of this from a monitor. "For crying out loud." Talking into a headset, the host kept a close eye on the two teens to make sure their conversation didn't go past harmless flirting. "Uninvited guest, over. Also, get that woman on the phone, over. I swear... I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind."

Seeing Chef come out of the water clad in scuba gear and stick something on the side of the paparazzi's boat, (Y/n)'s eyes widen in fear for Dakota's safety. "Dakota! Get off the raft!"

"What? Why?! Stop pulling!"

Trying to keep her grip on the blonde's flailing arms, the cheerleader kept trying to pull her into the water. "Because Chris is going to-"

The explosion went off, sending them both flying. Dakota ended up knocking Cameron out of Lightning's hand and into Anne Maria's hair. Turns out it was harder than the rock he had previously hit, sending him back into the water. (Y/n), on the other hand, landed in the middle of Mike and Zoey politely offering the other to Save Staci.

"Well, if you insist-"

Splash! Shaking her head, she laughed. "Yeah! Flying through the air by an explosion yet again!" Looking between the two, she raised an eyebrow. "What are you two doing?"

"Staci is- oh! Staci!" Remember what they had originally been doing, a guilty look crossed Zoey's face. Before anyone could move, a hand shot out and grabbed Mike's face, dragging him under with them.

"Hold on!" Both girls yelled, diving under and grabbing a person each. Once back above water, they high fived each other in triumph. "Girl power. Oh!" Sharing a giggle, they helped their fellow contestants got any water out of their lungs.

Looking back at his savor, Mike was surprised to see the girl who had had fun being tossed around like a rag doll. And boy, was she pretty. "Thanks. I owe you one."

~

Mike: Spinning the toilet paper roll awkwardly, he sent a nervous smile to the camera. "Okay. My first confessional. So... um... Zoey and (Y/n). Nice girls. Okay, super nice. I wonder if they'd go out with a guy like me. See, I have this, um quirk. I just hope my condition doesn't ruin everything for me again." Sighing, he looked so dejected.

~

Zoey: "Wow. I can't believe I'm actually in the Total Drama confessional. It's so exciting! Everyone seems so nice. I hope they all like me. I could use a few new friends... or, friends period." The more she spoke, the more her excitement turned to anxiety. "What if they hate me? Maybe this flower was too big. Am I trying too hard? You like me, right?"

~

Climbing onto the shore, Jo was soaked to the bone. "Woo-hoo! That's what I'm talking about. First one on the-" Her celebration was cut short as she spotted Dawn sitting cross-legged on a rock, holding a starfish and completely dry. "How did you…? You're not even wet!"

"Hm?" Taking notice of the tomboy's presence and words, Dawn looked down at herself. "Oh. I used a shortcut."

Helping Mike and Staci sit on some rocks after their eventful swim, (Y/n) took a look around at everyone. What a sad sight they all were. Well, except Dawn. Taking a seat in the sand, she listened to the bigger girl ramble on.

"Yeah, and my great, great, great uncle Boris invented swimming. Before him, people just swung their arms around and sank to the bottom. And my great, great, great, great, great, great-"

"Yeah, that's great." Blinking, Mike and (Y/n) shared a smile at their similar thoughts.

"First with Zoey and now with you Mike? Starting to think the three of us were meant to meet."

~

Mike: "Did you hear that? She thinks we were meant to meet! That's a good sign, right?"

~

Zoey: "Meant to meet? Does that mean she wants to be friends? I sure hope so." Sighing dreamily, Zoey imagined what their friendship would be like. "Being friends with someone as cool and beautiful as her..."

~

Sam washed up on shore not long after, finally joining the rest of the campers, coughing up a fish. "Hey! Need any help?" (Y/n) called over, worried about the game addict.

"Nah! I'm good!"

~

Sam: "I knew I should have played that sweet fitness workout game. Although, if it gets pretty girls like her to talk to me, then it's a good thing I didn't play it. I just hope I don't get cut first. That would be lame. But, If I stick it out long enough to get cut sixth or seventh, how cool would that be?" Laughing, he stared at the camera for a moment before pulling back out his handheld unable to stop playing it.

~

"So stoked to be here. I've been watching Total Drama forever. Who knows, maybe I'll even make some new friends." Zoey offered up as a start to a conversation.

"Yes, that would be good considering you are an only child and all."

"Wa? Who told you that?"

"Your soul reads like an open book! You had such a lonely childhood. It must have been difficult." Taking her hand, Dawn tried to comfort her only to have the hand snatch away from her.

Squealing, (Y/n) popped up between the two girls and sent Zoey a wink. She could tell how uncomfortable the redhead was with this, plus it excited her to no end. Too bad her stepbrother wasn't here. He'd love this just as much as her. "Do me next! I love this kind of thing."

"R-Really? Okay." Smiling gently, Dawn took the (s/t) girl's hand gently into her own pale ones. "You being on this show is a desperate plea for your father's attention. That's also what started your unhealthy relationship with adrenaline rushes."

~

(Y/n): "Whoa... she's good. But now he knows! I know I asked her to use her freaky powers on me, but I didn't think she'd go straight for my daddy issues!"

~

"Attention fresh meat!" Chris called over the speakers. "See the trail leading into the forest? Race to the end of the trail and do not disturb the wildlife. That would be bad."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to upset the bunnies."

"Lightning, you clearly haven't watched this show if you think that bunnies are our biggest threat on this island."

Before he could make a comeback, Chris cut him off. "The tiniest sound can set them off. Like this!" A foghorn sound played over the speaker, making Chris laugh as the teens ran terrified into the forest away from the creature now chasing them.

< Previous Next >

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.217 First day

I woke up super late and almost missed sending Desi off to school. I mean, comparatively, I woke up pretty early, but it wasn't early enough to get myself ready, cook breakfast, make sure Desi was ready, and get pics. Something from that list had to go, so I threw on a robe and made the breakfast, though we didn't have time to eat. We barely had time for pics, but I got them. I'm sure I looked crazy out there, half-dressed with messy hair, but I didn't care, though; I couldn't miss that. Less came to see Desi too, so I hope she felt extra special and had an amazing day.

I watched my only child get whisked away and went back inside to eat before the food got cold. Sophia busied herself with chores and had a very stoic expression. She was nervous and trying to keep herself busy, and I empathized with that because an emotional storm of my own was swelling inside. But Sophia kept the house so spotless, she quickly ran out of things to do and joined me finally.

"I couldn't do it," she said.

I knew exactly what she meant, but she explained anyway.

"I couldn't watch her go. I've been on the verge of tears all morning, and I didn't want to upset her."

"I get it. Trust me."

"She wasn't scared at all," I added. "She was just as excited as she was last night."

"Good," she said, wiping a tiny tear that managed to escape.

"I'm gonna head to the spa."

"So soon?"

"If I don't go now, I'll end up crying in bed all day."

"Smart. Okay, well, have a good day then."

A yoga class was about to begin when I arrived, so I started a guided meditation session. Honestly, I was concerned about how well I'd be able to focus while worrying about Desi, but the session turned out to be exactly what I needed to get my mind off her. I had a good turn out, and two of my participants got really focused and levitated! That was such a rewarding moment. I never allow myself to get that focused when I'm hosting, but I love it when I'm able to reach that level of clarity and peace. I've only experienced that a handful of times, and I was glad for them, especially since they paid for it, heh.

At the end of the session, I let everyone know about my SimTube channel and to follow me on Social Bunny to be notified when I do public yoga classes. The levitating duo left together, and one of them gave me a tip! I ran behind them to thank them for coming. Turns out they are married. She's been a long time wellness fan, but he was pretty much a coach potato when they met. She got him into yoga when they moved in together. I loved hearing that story. It had nothing to do with me or my efforts, but it just confirmed how powerful wellness can be.

It was nearing dinner time when we said goodbye and parted ways, so I ran home. It's so nice living around the corner from the spa, but a thunderstorm had been going on, so running home wasn't too pleasant. I asked Sophia where was Desi, and she said she was hiding under the covers because the thunder scared her. I took a shower and changed before seeing about her.

"Desi?"

She crawled from under the covers when she heard my voice, so I sat next to her and gave her a tight squeeze.

"It's okay. I'm here."

"I'm scared the lightning will hit the house and it will catch on fire!"

Ugh. The fire affected her more than we realized. There's nothing I can really do about it, but I wish I would have checked in with her instead of hiding from everyone. How do I handle this? I can't really assure her that will never happen because it could, though unlikely.

"I understand. And it's okay to be scared. Just know that whenever you're with us, you're safe, no matter what happens, okay?"

"Will the house catch on fire?"

"That is very unlikely to happen."

"Okay."

Rosie crawled from under the bed. Darn storm scared all my little girls.

"Rosie needs a hug too, Daddy!"

"How about another hug for you first?"

"You're squishing me!"

Sophia walked in with consternation all over her face, just as I was squeezing Rosie. I guess all the girls are scared.

"How is she?" she asked.

"Desi? Oh, she's fine. Just needed a little reassurance. You look a bit rattled yourself."

"It's just so loud! I'm not used to storms like this."

"Okay, Rosie, I gotta put you down. Mommy needs a hug, too."

With everybody comforted and feeling the love, Desi began telling us about her first day of school. It was pretty typical on the surface: pizza, fries, library, and recess. Savannah and Stacey aren't in her class because they were a little older, but she saw them at the playground. I asked about Tami, but she didn't see her at all. I guess that makes sense because she's also older. Come to think of it, all of her potential friends will be aging up soon, so hopefully she'll make other friends. We have about two weeks before her birthday, and I want to keep that thought waaaaay off in the distance.

It was a terribly gray morning, and Less was in the way, but I had to snap what I could before Desi disappeared LOL.

[verybadatwriting]

The Cyborg's Apprentice Part 2

Summary: Reader finds a way out of serving the Sith. Or so they think.

Warnings: Reader goes on a mental health/self discovery journey, neck wounds, and trackers

Notes: Part 1 and part 1.5 here

Gn!reader, teen!reader, Sith!reader

Word Count: 4,032

Light rain pattered against the window, occasionally broken by a violent crack of lightning. They didn’t go together. The rain was barely more than a drizzle, one that children could dance in, but the lightning was fierce enough to make some adults cower in fear.

Ahsokah was neither an adult, nor a child. So instead of dancing or cowering, she studied. She’d found some interesting writings on meditation, and was trying her best to follow the steps. The soft rain helped her get into the zone, and the lighting was a good test of concentration.

One thing kept nagging at her. It had been quite a few days since she’d heard from you. Maybe you’d been found out, and Grievous had ordered that your conversations stop. There was another possibility, one she dreaded even more than the last. What if you had sunk even deeper into the dark side, and decided to cut off communication all on your own? You could be devotedly fighting against the Republic on some far-flung planet.

A peal of thunder rumbled outside, and she pulled herself back to her meditations. If you were countless parsecs away, there was nothing she could do. 

Little did she know, the two of you were mere miles apart, and you were growing ever closer. Your hood stayed up over your head, concealing your face. With help from the Force, you managed to circumnavigate the security measures, and began ascending the side of the Temple.

When you reached the right window, you could see Ahsoka sitting there cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, with a scroll unrolled in front of her. The lights were on, just enough to read by. It was shockingly sparse. Only a bed, low to the ground, and a small table.

Hesitating, you raised your fist to knock on the window. What if this was a mistake? You coming here could endanger Ahsoka, get her in trouble with the Jedi Council, kicked out, even. 

But… You needed her right now. There was nowhere else to go, no one else who could understand. So, you lightly tapped your knuckles against the transparisteel.

Her head darted towards the unexpected sound at the window, and when she saw you, her face was filled with confusion. She said something you couldn’t hear, and when you tried to tell her as much, she motioned for you to wait.

Turning, she picked up one of her lightsabers, and drove it into the window. Within a moment, a circular chunk was missing.

“Y/n?” She said, just barely loud enough to be heard.

“Hey 'Soka.” You said, then promptly tumbled through the hole. She grabbed you a moment before you hit the floor, and helped you sit against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “It’s not safe for you!”

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” At that moment, Ahsoka noticed that blood was trickling down your neck.

“Maker, Y/n.” She said, pushing your cloak out of the way so she could see the cut. “How did this happen? Who did this?”

“I did.” You said. “I had to. Grievous had a tracker implanted in my neck.”

Once she had stopped the bleeding from your neck, Ahsoka’s eyes darted over the rest of you. Your clothes were dirty and wrinkled, like they hadn’t been washed in a few days. You had a few minor scrapes and bruises, but you were tired. Every breath took effort, and your eyes were filled with fear.

“Y/n,” Ahsoka started, “How are you going to get back to Grievous’s ship?”

“I’m not going back.” You said. “I can’t go back.”

“Well, I can’t hide you here.”

“Tano, I would never ask you to.” 

“What do you suggest I do?” She asked.

“Turn me in.” You said, and Ahoska gave you an astonished look. “It’s the only way you don’t get in trouble with the Council, and I stay safe from the Sith.”

A moment passed, one in which the two of you just sat, inches apart, taking in the gravity of the situation.

“Can we just have a few more moments?” She finally asked. 

“Of course, ‘Soka.”

When Ahsoka called for the guards, they clapped specially-crafted Mandalorian manacles onto your wrists, and brought you to the medic, who patched up the back of your neck. They locked you in a small cell until the Council could be assembled. Waiting there was the worst part. It gave you plenty of time to sit and reflect.

Ever since your encounter with Ahsoka at the ruined temple, the two of you would avoid each other on the battlefield. One night, you received an encrypted message. It was just one short question.

Why did you let me go?

And you replied with the simple, honest, answer.

I don’t know.

From that point on, you become each other's confidants. Strategic information was never shared, since the consequences of espionage were much worse than simply fraternizing with the enemy, but more personal matters– doubts, dreams, dreads– were all fair game. Because of this, Ahsoka knew things about you that you wouldn’t dare tell anyone else and vice versa.

She first suggested you join the Jedi a few months after you started talking. Deep down, you knew what the Sith were doing wasn’t right, but years of conditioning and propaganda with just enough truth sprinkled in was hard to break away from. So you declined her offer.

Again, when you were stranded on a planet with her, she brought up the idea. She even suggested you could fake your death and go back to the Temple with her. It was tempting, and she had convinced you that the Sith were doing more harm than good. Ultimately, the idea didn’t pan out.

You were pulled out of your reminiscing when the guards came to escort you to the Council Chamber. The twelve Jedi Masters were seated in a circle, and you were guided to the middle. 

“Y/n y/l/n.” Began a man with dark skin and a bald head. “We know you are a Separatist, and the apprentice of General Grievous. You have fought against the Republic and the Jedi Order for years, taking down waves of our troops and foiling countless missions. Today you are brought before the Council in a strange turn of events including but not limited to breaking into the Jedi Temple.”

“Your side,” Said a short shriveled green man, “You now must tell us.”

“I was a Separatist,” You said, “But I have turned against Grievous and the entirety of the dark side of the force. I wish to study at the Jedi Temple, but I understand you have your reservations, and that it is a real possibility that I will spend the rest of my days in a cell.

“For now, the CIS are unaware that I have defected, but when they do figure it out, they will hunt me down. I have only one request: Wherever you lock me up, make sure it has the best of security.”

“We will see.” The bald man said. “We have further questions. Why did you go to Ahsoka Tano?”

“She and I met before, during multiple battles.” You replied simply, casting a glance towards the door, where Ahsoka was standing with her master Anakin. “And I felt that our similarity in age would help me gain her trust.”

The questioning went on for a little while longer, until, satisfied with your answers, the green man spoke.

“A moment we must have,” He said, “To discuss. Back to your cell, you will go. Call you we will, when a decision we have reached.”

On your way out, you exchanged the briefest of glances with Ahsoka. A look of thanks passed between the two of you, like Ahsoka was grateful you did not bring up your secret correspondence. 

Not too long later, you were called back to the Council Chamber.

“It has been decided that you will be welcomed into the Order,” Said the bald jedi, who you learned was Mace Windu. “You will live here, and be trained in the light side of the force.”

“Thank you!” You said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Padawan Tano and Master Kenobi, you should thank.” Said Yoda. “Spoke on your behalf, they did.”

“Understand that there are caveats to this agreement.” Master Windu continued, “You will stay on the Temple grounds with supervision at all times. You will not be allowed access to your lightsabers, or communication to anyone outside the Temple.”

“Of course,” Obi Wan jumped in, “You will also provide us with any and all future CIS plans.”

“Of course.” You nodded, just happy they weren’t shipping you off to a prison planet, or executing you here and now. Once the rules were all laid out, they had the guards show you to your room. It was as bare as Ahsoka’s, except it was equipped with a security camera, and the windows were too small to fit through.

A short time later, Ahsoka joined you. She brought some robes and some scrolls for you, along with dinner.

“Honestly,” She said as the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, “I was surprised they let you in.”

“Me too.” You said, scooping up a bite from your bowl. “I thought the whole ‘fighting against you all in a war’ thing would’ve given them a bit more pause.”

“Yes, that,” Ahsoka agreed, “But also, you’re really old.”

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow at her. “I am, like, a few months older than you at most.”

“I know that, Y/n,” She scoffed, “What I meant is that Anakin is one of the oldest people they’ve agreed to train, and even then there were some grumblings about it.”

“Well,” You shrugged, “They already agreed. Can’t go back now!” You had another bite. “How old was Anakin? I can’t be that much older.”

“He was nine.”

“Oh.”

Ahsoka left to go to bed, but said she’d be back in the morning to take you to breakfast and show you around the Temple. 

“I’ve got a few day’s shore leave,” She said as she was leaving, “But after that I’ve gotta keep kicking Separatist butt.”

True to her word, the next morning she was in your room right as you finished getting dressed.

“Do you know where I should put these?” You said, holding up your old Sith robes. The red and black patterning stood out harshly against the soft neutral colors of the room.

“The laundry basket’s in the closet.” She said, nodding her head in its direction. “Let’s go, we’re burning daylight here. The sun’s been up for nearly a half hour! By the time we get to the Refectory, all the good food’s gonna be gone.”

Just as Ahsoka predicted, there was no good food left. After breakfast – which wasn’t all that bad – Ahsoka brought you to a quiet, dimly lit room, then left. Inside was a small group of people, mostly children, seated in a circle around an older Jedi. 

She beckoned you to an empty cushion on the ground, and briefly explained that they were practicing silent meditation, and that the goal was to completely quiet your mind and body.

One of the conditions of your staying here was getting some training to combat the Sith teachings, so here you were, meditating cross-legged with a class of children. The silence sank into your bones, at first you tried to fight it, but when it eventually settled, you found yourself with a strange sense of peace.

You did as the instructor said, and whenever a thought or feeling entered your mind you acknowledged it, and let it drift away. For a moment you felt the anger and pain drift away, too. It was like a weight had been eased off your mind.

But when your concentration wavered, the weight settled on you once more. 

After meditation the older Jedi led your group to the refectory. Ahsoka met up with you there. In the afternoon neither you nor Ahsoka had any obligations, so you spent it in the gardens. There, you saw a Jedi digging through the dirt holding a plant with wide heart-shaped leaves. The edges faded to green, while the rest was a pleasing pinkish red. 

“Oh hello!” Said the Jedi, straightening up from his work, “Have you come to help out in the garden?”

“Uh…” You glanced at Ahsoka, unsure what to say. 

“We would love to.” She said. So that afternoon was spent working peacefully in the garden. The Jedi you were working with was old, like your meditation instructor. He had the odd tendency to be silent for many minutes, state something completely out of the blue, and immediately go back to silence.

“Gardening used to be a popular activity among the Jedi.” He said, “Everyone from Younglings to geezers like me would be up here, digging through the dirt.” He said wistfully, “But that was before the war. Now we’ve got children out there fighting. It’s just us old folks holding down the fort here. Keeping the Younglings learning and such. You two are the only teenagers I’ve seen around here in a long time.” 

“I will be here for a while.” You said, “If that’s any consolation.”

“Hm.” He grunted, and pleasant silence descended again. 

And so went your days. Dinners with Ahsoka cross-legged on the floor, classes in restraining anger, teaching morality, and afternoons in the gardens, and weekly check-ins with the Jedi Council. You were still getting into the groove of things, when one night Ahsoka told you she had to leave.

“Wait what?” You asked, nearly choking on the bite of food in your mouth, “Already? It’s only been a few days!”

“I know,” Ahsoka said, “I know, but this war still needs fighting.” 

“Do you at least know when you’ll be back?” You asked, eyes downcast and voice full of sadness.

“No.” Ahsoka saw the look in your eyes, she continued, “But your information has been invaluable. We’re winning, Y/n. The end is in sight. Soon no one will have to fight.”

“Yeah.” You said. “That’s… Comforting I guess. I just wish that I could talk to you, while you’re gone.”

“We could ask the Council to make an exception to the ‘no outside contact’ rule,” She suggested, “Say that you need someone your age to talk to.”

“That might work,” You said, “I’ll still miss you though.”

“I know. I’ll miss you, too.”

You were granted permission to talk with Ahsoka while she was gone. Nothing about her locations or missions, and they read all your messages before sending them, but it meant you got to preserve the friendship. 

When she finally returned, it was like you were a different person. You happily wore the brown robes, tended the gardens, meditated, and lived without fear. The lessons you had been taught were sinking in, and the peace that came with them washed over every aspect of your life. 

The moment she got back, Ahsoka started looking for you. She found you in the gardens, watering and digging. Your entire demeanor had shifted. You carried yourself like you knew you belonged, and yet humbly. You dutifully attended to your work, and Ahsoka felt more at peace simply being in the same room as you.

“Y/n.” She said. You poked your head up from the bushes, and smiled at her.

“Hey Tano.” You said, brushing your hands off against your robe and standing up, “I’m glad to see you again.”

The two of you walked through the Temple together, talking for hours. 

“You…” She started, “I’ve only been gone a few weeks, but you seem so different now. Happier.”

“That’s because I am.” You said, “Happier, that is. I’m finally discovering peace.”

“Good.” She smiled at you, “Because you deserve it.”

The night before Ahsoka left again, she brought you dinner.

“Hey Y/n.” She said, holding a greasy bag up, “I brought you some food from Dex’s, since refectory food is all nutrition, hold the flavor.” Just like that first night, you sat on the floor of your room, and talked late into the night.

“Imma miss you.” You said as Ahsoka was just about to step through the door.

“I know,” Ahsoka paused, “But I have some good news. My friend Barriss Offee’s gonna be here for a bit. I think you’ll like her.”

And sure enough, you and Barriss hit it off. She was a little older than Ahsoka, and was able to give you some guidance. She often joined you in the garden, or for meditation. 

She was interested in your swap from the Seperatist’s side, perhaps a little too interested. She often asked about what you were taught as a Sith, which made you uncomfortable. Whenever that came up you steered the conversation away.

It was probably just her naturally investigative personality. That's another thing you liked about her, she was smart. You could point to any plant, painting, or carving in the Temple and she knew something interesting about it.

Occasionally, she would share her doubts about the Order with you. It reminded you of your secret correspondence with Ahsoka, back before you joined the Jedi, so you indulged her. Her concerns were similar to those Ahsoka had, mostly centered around the war, but they were different. These weren't just lamentations that the world was messed up and the Jedi Order needed reform, they were more like subtle hints that the Order itself was the problem. 

It was almost like she was probing you to see if you shared these beliefs. You brushed it off the first few times, but as the hints became less subtle, and her ideas less like ideas and more like plans, you resolved to tell the Council at your next weekly check in. It was just a few days away. In the meantime, you compiled all the worrying things you’d heard Barriss say so you could show them to the Council. 

The day finally came, and as you walked down the hall to the Council Chamber, you had your head buried in a tablet, going over what Barriss said one last time. You tucked it away just before entering the room. 

It was dark. The room was empty, except for one man lurking in the shadows. He stepped forward, and you saw it was Obi-Wan.

“They thought it would be better if you heard it from me,” he said. You were close with Obi-Wan, and often sought him out for advice. He stuck up for you during the Council’s private discussion, since he truly believed in you.

“Master Kenobi,” You said, “Is everything okay? Where are the other Masters? Is Ahsoka in trouble–”

“No,” He interrupted, “She’s fine. I’m here to return these to you.” He opened a small box, which contained your Sith robes. They seemed familiar and yet out of place. Just a relic of a part of your life that was long gone.

“Why would I need these?” You asked. Kenoi stayed silent. Searching for an answer, you looked at his face. His eyes were filled with regret and resolve.

“I’m so sorry.” He said.

“Why would I need these?” You asked again, voice more serious.

“You are part of a prisoner exchange.”

“No.” You shook your head, “No, I can’t go back. I’m not going back! They’ll kill me! Master Kenobi please-”

“They don’t know you defected.” He said, once again interrupting you.

“Then where do they think I was?” You questioned.

“As far as they know, you were imprisoned by the Republic.”

“How is this fair?” You spat, “I betrayed the CIS, the Sith, and everyone I used to know for a chance at joining the Order, and this is how it repays me? By manipulating me to get all the information it needed and then sending me back to the very same evils I fled? 

“The Jedi Council never manipulated you.” Obi-Wan said, his voice infuriatingly serene and steady.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You imprisoned me, and didn’t even bother to let me know. I trusted you.” 

Your voice lowered to barely above a horse whisper. 

“You let me believe I had a future here.”

“I thought you did, too.” He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Can I at least say goodbye?” You asked after a moment of silence. Tears started to gather in the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. 

“No.” He replied. “We have to leave now.” 

You nodded, and followed him to a transport shuttle. It took about a day of travel to get to the exchange point. First you took a small shuttle, then a larger ship, a landing pod, and finally you rode on the back of Cody’s speeder. The whole time you didn’t utter a single word. 

It was a remote planet. Just farms with little to no strategic value. You were wearing your Sith robes once more, and your arms were shackled behind you to align with your ‘prisoner of war’ story. You’d gotten there before Grievous, so you leaned against the bike while the clones and Obi-Wan sent out snipers to stay hidden in the surrounding hills’ shrubbery. The long grass rippled in the slight breeze, and the sun beat down. A few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the CIS finally showed up. Their speeders kicked up a storm of dust, which could be seen from miles away, even with the rolling hills. They slid to a halt on the other edge of a dusty clearing in perfect formation; Grievous at the center, flanked by a v shape of commando droids. 

The metallic General dismounted, pulled a tied-up Jedi from the back of his bike, and shoved him to a droid. Cody started to grab your arm to lead you forward, but you shoved him off of you and affixed a look of disdain to your face.

Back when you first met him, this attitude would have come naturally, but now, after learning empathy, you actually felt bad for the clones. They didn’t ask to be soldiers. They never had a choice. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You had to keep up the guise of a disgruntled young Sith, complete with eye-rolling and sneers.

Cody walked you halfway across the patch of dusty ground while a droid brought over the captured Jedi. After confirming that the Jedi was alright, Cody signaled to Obi-Wan, and the exchange was confirmed. Before you left, Cody passed you a box containing your lightsabers. As you were rushed to the Separatist speeders, you dared to cast a final glance back at the Republic forces. 

They were too busy welcoming their returned friend to even look at you. 

“Each time you find yourself scooped up by the Republic reflects poorly on me.” Grievous continued berating you as the commando droids loaded the bikes onto the shuttle. “Have you learned nothing? When will you stop allowing yourself to be snatched by these pieces of Republic scum?” 

“Those reflections are deserved!” You spat back. “You seem to forget that it is your job to teach me to fight. Instead you’re too busy chasing down Kenobi for some personal feud that he doesn’t even seem to know (much less care) about.” 

Those words hung in the air for a moment.

“Ha.” He laughed hollowly, “Perhaps you have learned something.” He then climbed into the shuttle. You knew he expected you to follow, but you could tell your emotions were reaching a boiling point. Instead of thinking about leaving Ahsoka without saying goodbye, or how the council betrayed you, you changed the sadness into blind rage. 

The wood of a nearby tree splintered as though an invisible hand crushed it. You looked at your hands, squeezed into fists so tight that your nails broke the skin, and realized that had been you. You had unintentionally channeled the Force. Slowly, you loosened your fists, and a few splinters fell away from the tree trunk.

From that day on, anger would be your fuel, and it would serve you well.

Tag!!! (You're it)

@thegirlinrainbowsworld

[speedyartist30]

(This is the beginning of my original story “Kiran”⚡️✨)

The man in the lightning pt 1

In the bustling city a dark haired young man steps out of the bus. With his phone in his hand and hat over his head, Jay aimlessly walks down the busy sidewalk to hopefully find a better hotel to stay in for a few days. The city he was in is massive. Multiple people young and old were all just walking and chatting as cars drove up in down the streets with no signs of stopping, Jay had to admit it was overwhelming to be surrounded by this many people. He could feel his power buzzing inside his chest. Sighing,he pulls his hat down more to cover his eyes, fearing that they will change glow and someone will notice. But even while keeping his powers in check Jay was aware that he gets stared at a lot when he’s not wearing a hat to obscure his face.

*Maybe I should buy a mask*

As he walked to a crosswalk with a crowd of people,two kids kept running around them with a woman who Jay assumed was their mother, scolded them to stop, which they ignored as they kept running around and even bumping into his backpack a few times. Even though his face didn’t show it,Jay was slowly getting annoyed with the constant bumping but what happened next felt like it was in slow motion. One of the kids tripped and nearly fell into the busy street, but Jay caught the boy by the back of his shirt and pulled him back as the speeding cars went by.The boys mom thanked him and kept trying to offer him cash as a thanks even though Jay kept refusing it.

Woman:”Well there must be something I can do to thank you for saving him.”

Staring at the very eager mother who just didn’t give up on letting him go, Jay decided to take up on her offer.

“Actually…Do you know any good hotels around here?”

The woman noticeably perks up at his question and nods her had as she pulls out her phone, typing away at her screen before she shows him the location and picture of the building.

Woman: “You must not be from here then huh? This is a pretty good one for people new here. It’s nice and affordable.”

Nodding his head while typing the address into his phone, Jay thanks the woman and continues his trip through the city to find the hotel. Before he gets there he stops by a supermarket to pick up some things

Ethan Pov

“No Mak, I'm not not here to grocery shop... What? I just left work to get something for this guy's laptop...”

As his best friend tried to convince him to buy candy, Ethan walks down the aisles with the intention of getting a new hard drive for a laptop he took with him from work. Ethan works at a tech store but he is barely there since he takes the customers broken devices home with him to fix and surprisingly his boss was fine with it.

Not watching where he was going as he turned the corner, Ethan almost runs into someone, but the guy effortlessly sidestepped around him and kept walking. Turning around to see who he almost hit Ethan couldnt see his face but he saw the guy wearing a baseball hat while carrying a black backpack on his back.

*That guy has very fast reflexes*

Not dwelling to much on the thought Ethan kept walking as he continued chatting on the phone.

Makalo pov

Scrolling through social media to find new clips and videos of the “mysterious lightning figure” Makalo sat in the car with his mom and little sister as they drove away from the daycare where his mom worked. He helped her out by keeping some of the kids entertained and out of trouble until their parents arrived,but now that the day was almost over he could go home.

Seeing a new discussion video he saves it so he can watch it when he gets home. Looking out the window which showed the sun setting in a pink and orange sky, Makalo asked his mom about her opinion on the ‘lightning figure’that’s been spreading like wildfire across social media.

Mom:”Lightning figure? What is that? Is it like a new game or something?”

“Nope, it’s the thing all over social media. How do you not know about it?”

Mom:”Maybe because I’m not glued to my phone like you…”

“I’m not, but anyway there is this thing right? It’s like this figure or shadow that’s been helping out a city not far from here. At first I thought it was just some edit, but now multiple people are posting sightings of it and it moves so fast that the camera can barely keep up with it. The only way you can see it is by the lightning that surrounds it. Some even said it was a person.”

Mom:”Well you seem to be very interested on this “lightning thing”,but don’t believe everything you see on online ,ok.”

“ugh…you sound like Ethan. This thing is real, if it wasn’t then how can so many people seen it already?”

Mom:”Well have you seen it in person?”

“No…”

Makalo frowned, he knew his mom had a point he couldn’t really say something was real if he hadn’t seen it himself, but he still believed whatever this thing was is  still out there even though.Looking out the window Makalo noticed a very tall man walking down the street.

Frowning, Makalo stopped when his phone buzzed. Looking down at the screen, he started biting his finger at the news notification.

Neon City News Alert "Series of Unexplained Murders Baffle Police: Witnesses Report Sights of Tall, Unknown Man Roaming Streets at Night"