#CUT TO SHINING ARMOR SOBBING HIS HEART OUT
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18+ nsfw, MDNI.
Thinking about big, beefy Simon Riley who just towers over you, all 6’4” of pure muscle.
He’s a living wet dream. Muscled thighs under blue jeans, broad, veiny hands and biceps for days—God, he’s perfect. You��re lost in a heady daze thinking about what he might look like under all that body armor when he notices you staring at him.
And that’s how you ended up here.
“Si-Simon, s’good—ohh, fuck-!” You’re sobbing on his dick, hot and girthy and stretching you out deliciously, leaving an imprint on your stomach.
“Yeah?” Simon tilts your lolling head up to look at him, drool dripping from the corners of your lips. “Needed this, didn’tcha?” His voice is deep and husky in your ear, grunting as he drills you into the wall.
His cock, pistoning in and out of your weeping cunt at a vicious pace has your vision spinning, and when he pulls the bottom of his mask up to devour your lips, you moan.
When he pulls away, you’re heaving for breath, your sweat staining his clothes. Simon wipes a bead of drool from your lips. “Bloody beautiful,” he breathes. “Need t' show ya just how pretty you are.”
With a deep thrust, he pauses for a moment, letting his length throb and twitch in your dripping heat. You whine as he presses his palm into your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock.
You buck against him, desperate for friction, moaning his name with abandon. “Simon please, please, keep moving,” you cry. “Simon!”
He tilts his head down at you, stripping his clothes off, and your breath hitches when you look up at him—and then down at his now-bare body.
Hulking muscles shining with sweat and twitching with exertion, you bite down on your lip to hold back a whine. He’s hotter than you could’ve ever imagined.
Broad shoulders, massive pecs, cut abs leading to the dangerous v-line that directs your gaze down to his cock still buried inside you—you have to close your eyes for a moment to stop yourself from creaming on his veiny girth on the spot.
His body is a constellation of scars: bullet wounds, slash wounds, burn wounds. But now, red scratches and bite marks litter his back and shoulders, and he starts thrusting again.
“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ me so well,” he growls, one hand tightening its grip on your waist, the other coming up to cage you against the wall.
Pressing into you, you can feel his hot breath against your neck through his mask, sending chills up your arms. His musky scent is intoxicating, and you reel at the proximity of his lean, bulging biceps next to your face.
Burying your face into his muscular chest, you’re clamping down on his cock with desperation as you feel your orgasm approaching. “Hnngh- Simon, I’m- close-” you gasp out, nails digging into the taut muscle of his shoulders, cunt fluttering.
“C’mon, pretty, cum f’me.” he groans, and you see his dark eyes squeeze shut under his mask. You squeal, whimpering his name like a prayer as you feel him finish inside you, clawing at his back as his seed paints your throbbing cunt white.
You’re dripping slick and cum onto his twitching cock as he pulls out of you, and you collapse onto his broad chest. Sweat sticking your two naked bodies together, you bask in the afterglow of the moment as your pounding heart settles into a steady rhythm, matching his.
“You alright, love?” Simon whispers after a long moment, placing a large hand on your lower back. “Mhm,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. “Jus’ tired.”
The weight of his heavy body disappears from yours for a moment as he slips his clothes back on, readjusting his mask. “Simon,” you murmur, hand reaching out to tug at the hem of his shirt. “Patience, love,” he responds gruffly.
Without another wasted moment, he pulls you into his arms with a gentle ease, throwing his jacket over you. The cloth is surprisingly warm, dwarfing your figure, and you curl into his chest. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he murmurs.
After a few minutes of walking, you faintly hear the squeak of a door open and close before he settles you into soft, clean sheets. It’s only a brief second longer before you feel the mattress dip next to you.
Simon’s warmth radiates from his skin, and you pull yourself into him. He’s stiff, breath catching as he looks down at you with unreadable eyes, and he awkwardly embraces your body. “Needy, aren’tcha?” Simon grumbles.
But with the way he relaxes under your touch, it doesn’t seem like he minds.
a/n: i'm so obsessed with this man (𖦹﹏𖦹;)
#kai's-nsfw ⊹ ࣪ ˖#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#ghost smut#ghost x reader smut#ghost simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#call of duty x reader smut#call of duty smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#thirst#call of duty ghost#simon riley
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˚❀˚
rafe can’t handle it when you cry. he’s a problem solver at heart, and if something is bothering you, in his eyes it’s his responsibility to fix it. he was on a business call when you burst through the front doors of tannyhill, cheeks already stained with tears as your kitten heels click through the house. “rafe?” you call, sniffling and desperate to find him.
he hears you, attention shifting from his meeting to you. rafe is used to your dramatics, but something about your tone sets off alarm bells in his head. he gets up from his desk, cutting off the investor on the other line. “hey — hey man, i hate to do this to you, but could you just give me one second? somethin’ just came up.” he puts the call on hold and shoves his phone in his pocket before they can protest, and just in time for you to walk through his office doors. you’re a mess, shivering with mascara running wildly down your flushed cheeks. rafe’s forehead creases in concern, rushing around his desk to meet you where you’re standing so you can throw yourself into his arms.
“woah — woah, baby. breathe for me, alright?” rafe’s voice is soft but demanding, and he pulls away when you don’t respond, placing his warm hands on your upper arms to steady you. “hey — tell me what’s goin’ on.”
you suck in a few shaky breaths, whining and pawing at your eyes. you’re already so upset, and trying to condense your frustration into any sort of coherent answer has you even more overwhelmed. you just shake your head, more tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t know! everything is going wrong.”
“okay, listen to me. you have to breathe.” he leans down to your level, commanding more of your attention as he brings one hand to wipe your tears. rafe knows you’re a sensitive girl, sweet and delicate — it’s one of the things he likes the most about you. as much as he hates seeing you upset, he does love being your knight in shining armor. “what do you mean going wrong? what’s going wrong, princess?”
you finally take a deep breath, wet eyelashes fluttering. it really is everything. you offered to plan a surprise birthday party for one of your friends at the country club, but now that you also have to start organizing your plans for midsummers, you don’t know when you’re going to organize it — and soon enough, tourist season is going to make work at the golf club impossible. the icing on top is that rafe has been busy all day, barely even texting you between meetings, and you really missed him.
all of it comes out in a jumbled string of sobs until you finish with a deep sigh, lip still wobbling as your watery puppy-dog eyes bore into his. “alright.” rafe starts, letting go of you now that you’ve settled a little. “tell you what, i’ll help you out with the shit for midsummers. we can head out to the mainland tomorrow and get you a nice dress, yeah?” he pauses to make sure you’re following, and you nod with a sniffle — already feeling a little better with a promised shopping trip. “and, baby — i know you can handle a little party planning. n’if you need me to, i got no problem pulling a few strings to get you a nice reservation, okay, but for now — you’ve gotta relax. go take a nice bath and wait for me, alright? i have to take this.” rafe pulls his phone from his pocket again, the screen lighting up with the call still on hold. he brings his free hand up to wipe your remaining tears, followed by a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. “you’re alright, princess — i’ll be right there.”
the whole ordeal has your head spinning, one second you’re flying off the handle with anxiety and now you feel light as a feather. but that’s why you came to tannyhill in the first place, knowing rafe would know just what to do to fix your terrible mood.
˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#pls pls pls send some requests <33#obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron headcanon#rafe cameron drabble#rafe headcanon#rafe drabble
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CL#16 || living in vain || drabble
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If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.
pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader genre: extra angst, comfort !tw!: negative thoughts, mental breakdown. If any of the things above might trigger you, please DO NOT INTERACT. Take care of your mental health and stay away from triggers, please ♥ other notes: you can find the request here word count: 0.7k
Cold spread from your fingertips onto your skin, printing shivers all over your arms as you braced yourself under the duvet. You trembled, hearing the howls of the wind shaking trees in the dead night, incapable of falling asleep. You curled on one side, trying to get small upon the mattress. That stone cold loneliness hardened your heart hit after hit. Gripping the hem of the sheets tighter and closer vainly seeking warmth, you let out a sigh. You felt like crying. As any other day. As any other week, month, year. Maybe bitterness and despair would eat your heart out and waste it gradually until you'd die, consumed; maybe tears would leave marks on your cheeks like acid rain digs holes on marble statues. Maybe you'd be left sinking into pain for the rest of your life, laying sleepless in your bed every single night.
You pressed your cheek harder on the pillow, almost burying half of your face. Thoughts popping up like your brain is a computer running with countless viruses. Where's the bug? Where's the bug in you? Where's the infected folder? Your own WannaCry malware? Where's the option to turn off everything, shutting down the engine, putting an end to it?
You whined against the pillow. You silently gasped, noticing Charles moving a bit by your side; you should've paid attention, instead of risking waking him up. His precious soul, his shining armor blinding you with its brightness, the mere thought of his perfect love for you brought you to tears. Again, you hid your shame, your guilt and sorrow against the pillow, and finally some warmth came through hot tears rolling down your cheeks. The air flowing quickly in and out your parted lips matched the rapid gusts of wind whistling outside the window; you had perfected the art of silently crying just so that you wouldn't ruin Charles' needed rest time. As not to ruin his life completely, at least. So selfish to drag him down to your level just for your own benefit, when he could choose anyone else and live the fulfilling life he deserved. Stuck with you. What a senseless waste of time. You covered your mouth with your hand, eyes shut in pain.
«Hey…» Your breath hitched, not sure whether you had misheard him mumbling to you. As his loving and warm touch sparked on your skin through the gentle grab of his hands, drawing you near his chest, surrounding you and creating a shelter of comfort, your sob cut through the silence of the bedroom. He shushed you with tenderness, reaching over to your ear and carefully putting rebel strands of your hair in place, with soothing movements dictated by sleepiness. «It's okay.» You sobbed louder and tried to retrieve from his embrace at his words, knowing their falsehood, but Charles' arms didn't let you escape his nestle of care. «Whatever is the matter, we're going to solve it together.» He then left a kiss on your shaking shoulder. «I'm here for you, okay?» His fingers, spreading open on your stomach, felt like a caress to the soul. And though your head ached - from crying, from hurting, from the weight and the darkness of its content -, you couldn't help but notice the muscles of your body relaxing a bit into his hold. «I love you.» Another hot tear crossed your cheek, but at his words you smiled. You took the arm draping over you and placed it higher, so that it would wrap over yours, shielding you completely; Charles complied right away. «You're freezing cold… Want another cover?» While Charles was about to roll over to get out of bed and grab another blanket for you, you caught his arm, silently pleading him not to leave you. Reading your will, he engulfed you back again, fully, wholly, unconditionally, affectionately, holding you with nurturing sweetness, resting his head next to yours. «Let’s sleep.» Such a simple sentence, yet breaking your heart into more sobs. So many nights you had wished for peace to come quick, in various shapes and forms; what a relief, what a moving joy, what undeserved luck to have it, at last, in the purest of its manifestations. Love.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! ♥ I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧
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#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc x y/n#f1 angst#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#golden post
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Drunk Text Me
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Warnings: Mostly Angst, some Fluff, Throwing up.
Prompt: Raylan cheated but miss him and really want him back. ( Idea from this song -> drunk text me )
Notes: italics are actions and thoughts.
-With that said it's all under the cut-
Your best friend sent you a picture of Raylan smiling and chatting up a bartender at the local bar which caused your face to drop. "He said he was distraught" "I cant believe it" "He's gotta be drunk." "I miss him." "I shouldn't." "Please text me, Ray." So many thoughts and needs went through your head as well as those feelings. He'd cheated, you know that but nothing stopped you from wanting him. You wanted his sleepless nights, his early morning, from the sound of his boots hitting the wood floor as he took them off to his cowboy hat on it's rightful spot near your bedpost. Just overall all you wanted was him.
Raylan had went back to Winona for a night or two after he promised he was done with her, you knew his type that everyone warned you about when you met him...that "Cowboy Casanova" shit. Those chocolate brown eyes just pulled you in, you were done for as soon as he but only glanced in your direction.
You were moreso mad at yourself for thingking he'd be any different then the stories you were told. Every woman knew the stories of Raylan Givens and how much of a womanizer he could be but it never stopped any of them from falling into that trap.
Goddamn it, Winona was a pain in the ass. She just wanted a knight in shining armor whenever she did something stupid and fucker herself over on purpose. Raylan was always ready to put on his damn cape and go save her, it was always so exhausting and you always felt like an afterthought on days like that.
You understand that the both of them were married and he still loved her in a way but it's still stung every single time.
Whilst you were with Raylan you had swallowed the bitterness and resentment you had for her down like stomach acid that had came up but you had nowhere to spit it. "Thats his child's mother, I have to be nice." You'd repeat that to yourself over and over again and you made it a point to never talk shit about her in front of their kid.
Well, nice went out the fuckin window when you found out he cheated. Winona had knowingly pulled him back in knowing he was with you.
'Somehow and someway' her entire vehicle was spray painted and so was her house. Nothing was broken, just spray painted and a few eggs were thrown and some toilet paper, harmless shit.
Of course he wasn't an idiot, Raylan knew it was you or your friends. Naturally, he was pissed maybe it was more so out of the concern for his kid or overly concern for his ex-wife, you couldn't tell.... The only thing that you were certain of is that both of you were pissed.
As soon as you saw that picture, you were reminded of the man you love all of got anger and resentment went out the window...All you wanted from him now was a text, maybe a "I fucked this up, I dont know why I did it. She isnt you you. I love you, not her." or something similar.
You'd still pick the phone up the second he called. It didnt matter that it feels like he'd shot in the chest by cheating or the way your heart bleeds whenever you think of him.
Alcohol was a bad coping mechanism but you and him clearly were using it tonight. You opened the bottle of bourbon you had over here for him, holding it by the neck; Taking those big swigs as you to try to forget the fact that the last time you tasted this was in his mouth.
Sobs filled the air as you laid on the ground and got drunker by the moment, a bit of time passed and you blacked out.
You woke up just as drunk, if not moreso. You were about to take another drink when you heard a voice through the speaker of your phone and he was definitely holding his liquor better than you.
"Darlin'? You still there? You okay?" Raylan asked before mumbling out more apologies. Of course you didn't know what to say cause you'd didnt even know you called him.
"I'm coming over." He said cause he was concerned by the lack of response from you. He didnt want you getting alcohol poisoning and he knew you were pretty sloshed, that bourbon wasnt anything soft.
"Nooooo, 'mmmm fi...." You slurred out but before he even fully heard you he had hung up and planned on making his way over there.
"Shit, the bartender has my keys." "Fuck it, I'll walk." Raylan had thought to himself, So thats what the sorry drunk dumbass did, he regretted cheating on you and he didnt wanna leave after he cheated but he felt unworthy and didnt wanna keep pulling you through the ringer.
He knew Winona always had an angle or favor she needed when she called. He was played for a fool time and time again, same cards hoping for a different outcome.
By the time he got to your apartment it was clear he scuffed his face on something but of course to Raylan a scratch on his face was nothing but a pinch ftom a piss-ant.
He opened your door with his key and immediately went to drag you to the shower to wake you up since you were in a bad way. The cold water hit your body and you jolted awaked as the temperture difference caused a shock to the system.
Immediately you got up out of the tub and just vomit as you sat up and perched your hands against that toilet bowl and you groan in pain and disgust. The taste of bourbon was entirely different coming up; Of course Raylan would probably know that well.
"Damn, Darlin', that bottle was full when I was here last. You drank nearly the whole thing. Youre lucky you're not headin' to the E.R. What the hell were you thinking?" He was pissed but mostly concerned as the woman he left was puking her guts out into the toilet.
"Go ahead and laugh, I'm pathetic." You felt so shitty and the alcohol just made you feel shitter.
"Why would I laugh? It seems you and I were doing the same thing." Raylan's hands massaged the back of your neck and made sure you wouldnt puke on your hair.
"You were flirting with....the...the bartender." You sounded hurt and drunk considering the slightly slurred speech.
"No, she called me an idiot cause she knows you and me were together. She called me an idiot for breaking up with you and I agreed, Sweetheart."
"I miss you so much but youre such an asshole." You sniffled as you lifted your head from the toilet.
"I can't disagree with you there." Of course you felt like you look like shit but to him you look like the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The regret grew in his chest as he asks himself why he would ever do that to you, Saying no to Winona felt impossible but he needed to put on his big boy pants cause he was hurting himself and hurting you.
You washed your mouth out with mouthwash to get rid of the taste of bourbon filled vomit before standing up slowly. His hands found your hips to make sure you didnt fall again, he guides you to your bedroom and go you laid down. As soon as you noticed he was about to leave you spoke...
"Stop doing that self-pity bullshit... you're not walking to some shitty hotel or something, you're going to stay here with me where I know you won't get hit by a fucking car or something." You spoke with a seriousness in your voice, you were sincere and straight-faced. You weren't going to let him walk out that door, of course he wasn't even remotely as inebriated as you were but you weren't going to take the chance.
Every single time he walked out of that door, every single day...every call you answered with excitement and worry. You weren't going to let him take any other stupid chances to add on top of that already high probability of something bad happening.
Normally that's not a tone you would take with him, therefore, knew you were absolutely and positively serious. He kicked off his boots with that familiar sound of them clunking against your wood floor and that hat found his rightful place next to your bedpost.
Hopefully tomorrow you two could talk everything out and those boots and that hat would always be in their normal places again.
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The portal will take him somewhere new. Somewhere he's supposed to be. He'll meet people, become someone great. He just has to make it... The wind howls in his ears and tears at his clothes. Darkness ripples past in shifting colors; purple, black, grey, and deep indigo. He'll remember it when he sees an oil spill. He'll never properly be able to describe it. His hands are on his knees, his back hunched. He's so tired; he didn't realize it'd be so far.
"Xehanort!" Metal fingers wrap around his wrist. Eraqus's voice is high and scared. He looks up, head heavy with his own armor. "We have to keep going. We have to get back before-." He nods and grasps Eraqus's arm. Just a bit further. They have to make it in time. They have to. He looks back, ready to offer a hand to Hermod, to Urd.
Two suits of armor are collapsed, just at the edge of his sight in the swirling dark. They look lifeless, empty, but he swears their hands twitch toward his. They should go back, they can still help. But Eraqus's fingers are tight around his arm, like a chain yanking him further away. They're dead already. They're already gone. They can still save the others.
Eraqus's hand is a burning shackle around his wrist. It tugs him forward, toward a distant speck of light. Eraqus refracts it, makes it burn against his skin. He tries to loosen his grip or to shift to a better position, but it only tightens further. His heart is racing as they claw their way forward. For Vor, for everyone, if they can just get back to Master Odin. The wind screams and Eraqus slams into him.
He's standing on the roof under a perfect blue sky. The sun shines so brightly off twin heads of white. One shivers, barely present. She's only one of many ghosts lurking at the corners of his vision. Gold light flares like sparks catching on tinder; chains only make Baldr hiss. Master Odin's voice is a pained bellow. "Xehanort, now!"
He's able to walk forward, to look him in the eyes. "I see myself...in you." The darkness roils off of him in sickening waves. He lifts his keyblade and in perfect form cuts his classmate down.
Lightning cracks across the sky. The stones go gray as the rain soaks them. The carvings are so sharp, so new. Empty eyes watch him, darkness trickling down their faces. Except for one. His chest is cracked open, the veins filled with light. "They'll never forget. He'll never stop seeing it." The white flowers, brought earlier today, are slowly turning red. He turns his face up to the clouds. He doesn't have to see to know the shade of red painted all over his hands.
He wants to scream until his voice breaks. He wants to dig up the earth until he finds the thing responsible for this and he can break it between his hands. He wants to stop hearing muffled sobbing through the walls and seeing ghosts. He wants to go back home to years and years ago when he could tuck himself under his mother's arm. He wants to fix it all, the broken and rotten system that calls itself order.
Someone comes up behind him, calls his name. He turns, keyblade in hand, and runs them through. Eraqus stares at him in horror and then his face twists with hate. "Murderer," he says through a mouthful of blood. And then he dissolves, as he always would have, into pure light. Xehanort lunges forward, tries to grab a piece; he needs it, he's lost it. He stretches out a hand-.
-and closes it over nothing. The sky is dark above him, the stars hidden by the dust storm quickly closing in. He uncurls his fingers, feeling time tick by.
"Destiny can be so cruel."
The soft clink of old metal grows louder as the winds pick up. Soon everything will be lost to sand and scouring wind. Xehanort casts one more look over the unnamed, but still marked graves. These rusted keyblades have stood for ages and will stand for ages more.
As if he needed more proof.
Xehanort leaves another graveyard full of children. His destiny awaits.
#the rp is doing things so reworked this for Public Viewing lol#young master xehanort#xehanort#kingdom hearts#dark road#kh dr#my writing#legally required Junior reblog#for my own sorting lol
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Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter ten: Relics (10/?)
(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)
Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.
Chapter Summary: Jim learns about her sister’s secret. Y/n gets a book and a suprise.
Word count: 2838
Warnings: no
(Season 1 Episode 18,19 )
Song?: Little talks by Of Monsters and Men// Kindly Calm Me Down by Meghan Trainor
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Y/n was laying down on the couch watching tv when the feeling caught her. A shiver ran through her spine. Her heart felt hollow. She sat down on the couch with her feet on the ground trying to shake the vertigo she was suddenly feeling.
She looked down at the ground but the carpet was no longer there, instead, there was tall grass hiding her boots, boots that she didn’t remember putting on.
She was walking to the edge of the cliff, to a man wearing heavy armor that was kneeling at the edge looking down at the sea.
“What have you done?” Her own scream shook her bones. She ran to the edge, trying to prove herself wrong. She looked down but the body was already being washed by the sea. The image made her anger start to boil inside of her.
“What have you done?” She whispered not taking her eyes from the water. The violent waves imitated the turbulence of her heart.
Her legs quickly gave out. She felt like someone was reaching through her chest and ripping her heart.
“No” a broken sob escaped her lips.
She stretched her hand down towards the ocean like it would return what she lost, like it would fill back the hole where her heart used to be.
The voices of her brother and friends started to fill the room, bringing back Y/n from her haze. The carpet was under her feet again but so was the grief and a cold space next to her.
The trollhunters were returning triumphant from their second quest with the second Triumbric Stone.
“Y/n you won’t believe what happened!!” Toby screamed.
Y/n turned to them. She couldn’t see well, her view was blurry. She could recognise each of them by their clothes, their voices. She was dizzy like she had just stepped out of the most violent rollercoaster.
Toby gave a nudge to Claire and she slowly took out a stick that looked like stone.
“Y/n, are you alright?” her brother asked after noticing the pain on his sister’s face.
She nodded with a smile and got closer to see what the teenagers were showing her. What Y/n believed to be a long piece of stone opened into something longer, a gray staff made of quartz taller than her.
Something in Y/n shifted. Her vision was blurry but she could see the staff clear as day. The dark quartz shining with purple reflects, the handle made of black stone.
“The shadow staff” her raspy voice was full of anger, of grief “How did you get this?” She said louder.
She didn’t understand a word of her brother's explanation, just one name, Angor Rot.
“He shouldn’t have this. You shouldn’t have this” She laughed incredulously “Why’d he had this? It’s her’s” Y/n screamed and took the staff from Claire’s hand.
The grief she felt during her vision grew. She felt the tears fall to the ground. She couldn’t see, the pain had made everything dark.
“Sorry, sister” a woman whispered, making Y/n drop the staff and fell to her knees letting out a guttural scream.
—
The heavy darkness became a warm soft orange light. In the tall ceiling, Y/n could see the shadows dance and for a moment, no grief existed. But the moment was cut short by the sounds of glass clinking, the heaviness returning to her chest.
“Ah, I see you’re awake” Vendel walked to the head of the stone bed “ Do you know where you are?”
Y/n nodded sitting up.
“TrollMarket” it hurted to talk.
“Do you know who you are?”
“Do you know what you are, Y/n?” A woman’s voice screamed at her.
Y/n knew it was just Vendel and her. She knew the voice came from inside her brain.
“Y/n Lake”
Vendel nodded.
“Do you remember what happened last night?”
She knew. She could see clearly now, see the confusion, the fear on everyone’s eyes, on her brother’s eyes. She also remembered the anger, the sadness, the hot tears in her eyes, her mind chanting ‘She died. He killed her’.
“Yes” she said between tears.
“You’ve been under a spell” Vendel explained “There’s a barrier in your head dividing your memories, between who you are and who you were” with his finger he drew a line in the air.
“I know” Y/n took her hand to her throat.
“You know?” Vendel shifted his cane to his right hand. He was surprised.
Y/n nodded.
The troll was about to ask another question when a loud meow erupted from TrollMarket.
“Alfred, no!” She heard Jim running but the cat was faster.
Al ran to Y/n’s lap and started to rub their faces together. He was relieved.
“I see” said Vendel.
Jim stopped by the entrance. His eyes focussed on her sister.
Y/n felt the shame rise. She was afraid. What if Jim was mad at her for keeping a secret and almost hurting his friends?
“Y/n” Jim ran to her sister, hugging her with all his strength.
Y/n was confused she was prepared for Jim anger, but not this.
“Jim” she caressed his head, brushing his hair with her fingers.
Her brother held her even tighter in response “I’m sorry” he said.
“No, you shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry, Jim. Last night was scary and I should’ve…”
Jim shook his head.
“It’s my fault. I dragged you into this…”
“Jim, is okay. This was going to happen even if I didn’t knew you are the trollhunter”
Jim lifted his head from Y/n’s side.
“She is right” Vendel interrupted “The spell has a expiration date. Even if you didn’t told her she would have this reactions to the reminders of her past life”
“So, it wasn’t my fault?” Al peeked his head from between the siblings.
“Woah” Jim jumped back “He talked”
Y/n laughed.
“No, it’s not your fault” Vendel said.
“He talked. How can he do that?” Jim pointed to Al.
“Yes, I did. I’m Y/n familiar” Al sat at Jim’s feet.
“Familiar?”
“Is like a wizard assistant” Vendel explained.
“Wizard?” Jim’s eyes shifted between Alfred and Y/n.
Y/n smiled. She was still just as confused as Jim.
“So the red light, that was you and not the staff?” Jim asked remembering the night before.
Y/n looked at Vendel with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes. Y/n used to be a powerful wizard”
“What?” The siblings said at the same time.
“I don’t think we should push anymore, Vendel” cautioned Alfred.
“I think we should work to make the barrier fall. After all, having Y/n next to the trollhunter may be of great help” The troll looked at Y/n “I could try help to return to who you were in exchange of your help against Gunmar”
“Of course” Y/n answered immediately. There was nothing to discuss, she was going to help magic or not magic.
“That’s settled then. I’ll see you tomorrow”
“I’ll see you tomorrow” Y/n smiled and left with Jim and Alfred.
“Y/n, are you sure?” Al asked once they were far enough from Vendel.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Al didn’t answer.
“So, you can do magic?” Jim asked.
“Yes, I mean, I only tried moving stuff”
“Awesome” Jim said “that’s so cool”
They laughed.
The walk was cut short by a scream.
“Y/n!” It was Toby.
Y/n turned around and was tackled by the younger boy.
“Oh god, I’m glad you’re okay” he held her tight “I was so worried”
Y/n chuckled, reciprocating the hug.
“I’m sorry, Tobes. I didn’t mean to scare you” Y/n said through the pain in her throat.
“I’m glad you’re okay too” Claire said. Her eyes fixated on the ground.
Y/n lifted a hand from Toby’s back and grabbed Claire’s hand with a smile. The girl lifted her eyes.
“Thank you” Y/n mouthed.
Claire smiled back.
—
Y/n was browsing the back of Douxie’s bookstore. Those last bookshelf that no one ever looks at.
She had never heard of some the books and that didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was the top shelf. The first three books didn’t have its title written on it, they looked old, worn, loved. The three that followed were a couple of her favorite books, books that she had loved with all her heart. They were old, even the most recently published seemed loved.
Y/n stroked the spine of all the books in the row, her finger stopping on a small red book, like the first three, it was old and didn’t have the title written on the spine. Y/n grabbed it. It didn’t have the title written anywhere. She traced the golden details but before she could open it, Douxie came looking for her.
“Hey, love” he said after a customer closed the door.
Y/n smiled.
Douxie and her had been taking things slow. After their talk they’d hang out a couple times a week until Y/n got “sick” after the shadow staff episode, then they started hanging out every day.
One afternoon, Douxie called Y/n after she left several texts unanswered and Barbara answered. She told him about Y/n “sickness” so he stopped by. He sat at the foot of the bed and talked with her. At first it was just him doing the talking. He would tell her about the rude customers, about that old lady that went to the library with her dog and how Archie almost got his tail bitten but mostly he would talk about music. Douxie would show her his new favorite song and the new songs he had written.
By the time Y/n got her voice back they would sit side by side at the head of her twin bed with Alfred between their legs. Y/n enjoyed Douxie presence. She found comfort in the small domesticity he had created
“There’s something about him” she told her mother over tea one night after Douxie left for his shift at Benoit’s when her mother commented on Y/n and Douxie’s relationship.
Douxie had caught her staring a couple times during one of their lazy afternoons. She would look at him. Just observe him. She would follow the bridge of his nose with her eyes, having to stop his fingers from doing the job. She would imagine how his soft disheveled black and blue hair would feel between her fingers.
Y/n tried to engrain every little detail into her head. How his eyes would close when he smiled, how he would mindlessly scratch Al’s head, how he hums while making any task, how he knew how to make tea the way she liked, how he would scratch his head when he was nervous. She tried to embroider his little actions into her brain because a voice deep in her heart would remind her how easy it was to forget.
“But how could I forget those hazel eyes?” She would ask but the voice wouldn’t answer.
“Doux” Y/n turned around with the book in her arms.
“What’d you have there?” He furrowed his brow.
“Ummh…I don’t know” she gave him the book “Sorry, I was shamelessly snooping”
He chuckled and took the book from Y/n’s hands. When the book left her hands a piece of paper fell to the ground.
“It’s okay” Douxie smiled “You can do anything you want”
Y/n crouched down and opened the folded piece of paper. It was a music sheet. The paper was really old. Y/n was afraid to touch it too much and break it. The ink where the title was written was smudged but she recognised the piece instantly.
“Oh, I really like this one” she whispered to herself.
“You know it?” Douxie asked.
“Yeah, it’s my…” Y/n brows furrowed.
“It’s my sister’s favorite” almost fell from her mouth.
She shook her head.
“Well…It’s not really my favorite but I really like it” she corrected.
For a moment, Y/n thought about the incident that happened the other day. Thought about the sadness that the shadow staff would bring every time she would look at it and, most important, what that voice had whispered to her ‘Sorry, sister’. Could it be that she left someone so important behind that now they were trying to claw their way out of the exile of her memories?
Y/n gave the paper back to Douxie.
“I would like to hear you play it sometime” He smiled.
“Sure” Y/n smiled back, her cheeks slightly red.
Douxie looked the book on his hands for a second and looked back to Y/n and said:
“You know, this is a really good anthology. It could be really good to start reading again. Would you like to check it out?”
Y/n smile grew. She had told him she wanted to start to read for pleasure again when she found out that he worked on a library. She couldn’t believe he remembered that.
“Yes” She took the book and started walking to the couch but before she sat down she retraced her steps and stood in front of Douxie once again.
“Thanks” she kissed his cheek.
Douxie smiled, his cheeks turning crimson the moment her lips touched him.
Y/n carefully flipped through the yellow pages, inspecting the small letter and finding some illustrations but what surprised her the most was a short note on the last page: ‘I’m so sorry about your book. I hope you love this version too. —H.C”
Y/n smiled at the relic in her hands and wondered if the previous owner of the book loved it as the one they lost and if they ever forgive H.C. She stood up to go to Douxie and ask him but before she could her phone rang. It was her alarm reminding her about her appointment with Vendel.
In the last week, Vendel believed he had made some progress on Y/n spell but she wasn’t so sure. The visions she’s been having disappeared and her nightmares too but no memories appeared. And for a moment, she thought her lack of nightmares were a good thing but she quickly found herself missing them too. She missed the people inside her dreams: the tall man that would walk with his hands behind his back, the woman that was always too far off her reach and that soft blue light that seemed to follow her everywhere.
She found the hole in her chest growing and could only be ignored when she wasn’t alone but she wasn’t sure how much she could be this clingy with the people she loved.
“Hey, Doux. I have to go” She grabbed her purse and walked to the registry.
“Oh, okay “ For a moment Y/n thought she saw him deflated “I’ll guess I’ll be seeing you soon”
She laughed.
“I’ve actually been seeing you a lot this week” he chuckled.
Y/n smile fell. Maybe her fear was becoming true.
“Yeah, bye” she faked a smile and started to walk to TrollMarket.
Her mind repeated her last week with Douxie. Maybe it was too much.
—
“So how are you feeling?” Vendel asked while he tinkered with some vials.
“Fine” Y/n answered from her place at the bed made of stone.
They had the same routine for the last couple days. He would ask how she was and she would say ‘fine’. She wasn’t lying, she was fine, just fine. She hadn’t remembered anything yet. She had hoped that by now, at least, a small memory would’ve returned.
“Still no memories, huh?” He kept working with the vials.
“No” she saw him stop moving for a second but he kept doing what he was doing.
“Have patience. It’s a process” he turned to her, knocking a vial with his elbow.
“Careful!” She stretched her hands from her seat on the other side of the room.
Vendel didn’t took his eyes from Y/n, smiling proudly when he saw her shocked face.
The glass vile was floating four centimetres from the floor, a faint scarlet light surrounding it.
“Put it back on the table” Vendel asked.
With a small movement of her fingers she put the vial back on the table.
“I can’t believe it “ she looked at the palm of her hands.
“I told you to be patient” he got closer to her.
Y/n looked around the room. Everything seemed different. She recognised the stones around her, she could name most of the stuff inside the vials, she could even read the book in trollish that was next to her with ease.
“Thank you” she smiled and hugged Vendel.
The troll went stiff when she touched him, making her back up.
“Sorry” she chuckled.
“It’s okay, Y/n” he patted her shoulder making a small streak of electricity run through it.
A/n: i really like this one for some reason ☺️ in the next post I’ll be uploading the playlist!!!
#tales of arcadia#douxie x reader#douxie#hisirdoux casperan#hisirdoux x reader#toa#trollhunters#my writing#Til The End Of Eternity
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37 + Iris for angsty writing prompts.
This takes place during s3...and aside from the major divergence featured here, it's canon-compliant, so you can interpret Caitlin and KF as separate people or the same person. Also, this could be considered a mini follow-up to this, though it can also stand on its own:
Iris had failed.
She’d really thought she could get through to Savitar, touch at the heart of Barry inside him and pull the darkness out…she’d gotten so close—
But she’d failed, and off he’d gone, and she was going to die in a few hours’ time.
And by the hand of an evil version of her fiancé. And only to hurt Barry. It was just about the most devastating thing ever. Iris barely held it together until he left before finally breaking down sobbing.
What kind of fiancée—what kind of best friend—was she, that she couldn’t save him even when her own life was at stake?
What happened to you, Barry? What did this to you? Who did?
Iris wasn’t sure how long she spent crying before someone shook her sharply. “Come on, West. Dry your eyes. We don’t have time for that.”
“Wh…?” She startled backwards upon seeing Killer Frost approaching. “What are you doing here?”
The other woman arched an eyebrow and held up a gleaming knife. “I could just leave you bound up here to die, if you’d prefer.”
Iris pursed her lips, locked in a stalemate with her former friend, before nodded—Killer Frost knelt down to cut her bindings.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you helping me?”
Killer Frost pursed her lips but didn’t speak for a while. Finally, she said, “What you said, before. If Savitar gets his memory back, what’s in it for you?”
Iris scoffed. “Took you that long to decide you deserved better?”
Killer Frost scowled. “Someone’s being awfully testy to her rescuer.”
“Trying to get my bearings,” Iris replied tightly, “that’s all. I can’t make my situation any worse, anyway.”
Caitlin pursed her lips, speaking again when one wrist was free. “Well, it wasn’t just you. It was Cisco too. Never wanting to hurt me, even at my worst…reminding me that Savitar was only using me.”
“That was Barry.”
“Cisco too,” Killer Frost retorted sharply, “and I wasn’t gonna take any guidance from the man who couldn’t be bothered about me once your life was on the line.”
Iris frowned. “That’s not—”
“Fair? Oh yes it is.” Killer Frost sighed. “But that’s not your fault. From what Cisco says…you were the person most worried about me. Well…second-most. And you don’t deserve to die over all this. Not for Barry’s sake…or for anyone’s. I realized I deserve better…and so do you. Better than these roles Savitar has shoved us in.”
“And yet you stay with him.”
“Not anymore. Pull your left wrist.” Iris did so, finding it free to move. “You’re free now, so take my advice, Iris: run on back home to your knight in shining armor, leave me be. I have my own destination in mind.”
Iris frowned.
Killer Frost scoffed. “If I wanted to kill you myself, I’d do it right here and now.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“You.” Iris stood up, grabbing the other woman’s hands and squeezing. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Killer Frost hesitated. For a moment, Iris could swear her eyes turned brown.
But only for a moment, and Killer Frost yanked her hands away. “Worry about yourself, West.”
Iris’s heart sank. “Caitlin—”
“Frost,” came the sharp correction. “If you ever speak of me again, if we ever meet again, call me that. Until then…Savitar won’t be gone long. You should hurry. This place isn’t too far from STAR if you head east.”
“You should hurry too,” Iris said softly. K—Frost didn’t respond, though, so Iris sighed, slowly walking towards the exit. At the last moment, though, she turned. “Frost?”
“…yes?” Came the hesitant reply, though Frost didn’t look at her
“I forgive you. Please take care of yourself.”
Iris could swear Frost’s shoulders tensed at that, but she didn’t wait to be sure—Frost was right about the time limit, and Iris didn’t have much time.
As she ran out the door, though, stealthily making her way back—it was sunset, thank God, so she headed away from the sun…and sure enough, she was back at STAR Labs before long.
Barry was the first to see her, the first to sweep her up in a hug and whisper a shaky “Thank God,” and Iris kissed him soundly and nestled into his hug with an overwhelming sense of relief.
All the while, though…she kept thinking of Frost. Of Caitlin, though evidently her friend had shed that name.
Iris knew how to read people—she’d taken classes on it, to boot, and being a journalist had given her much more practice—and she knew one thing for certain:
Frost had the same look in her eyes that Caitlin got when she was scared.
And Iris could almost weep for how helpless she was in the face of that.
prompt list!
#lavi’s prompt fills#iris west#iris west allen#killer frost#caitlin snow#(she's there in spirit. and possibly present for a couple seconds)#the flash#takes place during 3x22
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Lux's Adventures in Underland
Rating: Mature Summary: While fleeing an impending engagement, Luxanna Crownguard falls down a tree hollow and into the mysterious world of Underland. At first, the strange place appears to resemble the same Wonderland from her favorite childhood book, but she quickly learns that not everything is as it seems. Secrets lurk in this enchanting world, and Lux discovers that from even the best of dreams, one must always wake up. This work is available here on AO3.
Chapter 1: Down the Hollow
The midnight hour was for dreams. And in Castle Crownguard, all obeyed this silent rule, all except for the eldest child, Garen. Instead of dreaming, he pored over maps and charts, spread out on the ornate rug of the parlor. A boy still, of six and ten, he was too young to understand the finer details but hungry enough to try anyway. His tea cooled on the side table, where not even the fire could keep it warm.
But his study was interrupted by a voice.
"Garen!"
He knew the call well, as he had answered it many times before, and he sighed fondly as he rose. Garen stretched before lighting a candle and letting it guide his way up the stairs and down the call, cutting through the darkness.
"Garen!" she gasped when he opened the door, throwing off the heavy bedspread and running to him. His sister, Luxanna, was only as tall as his stomach, so he leaned down to envelope her in one arm.
"Steady on, Lux," he chuckled. "What's the matter? The dream again?"
"Yes!" She clung to him, so much so that he was barely able to set down the candle before lifting her onto his hip. "The Queen of Hearts, she wanted to chop my head off!"
"Well that's curious. What on earth would she want with your puny head?" He flinched against the tiny hand swatting his shoulder.
"She wanted to play croquet with it," Lux sobbed.
"And get your long hair all tangled in the wickets?" He tutted, perching on the thick duvet. "Hardly a sportsman, is she?"
Lux swatted him again, hiding a laugh behind a choked sob. "It was really scary!"
"I'm sure it was," he conceded. Garen reached for the softly bound book on the side table: "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll. He flipped through the pages, pausing on an illustration of the titular character mid-growth after eating an enchanted cake, her neck stretched unnaturally tall. The image disturbed Garen, who grimaced and closed the book. "Perhaps you should read something else, Lux."
"No!" she gasped, taking the book from him and squeezing it to her chest. "No, this is my favorite book!"
"But it's giving you nightmares. And you already have such a wild imagination."
"I'll- I'll get braver," she insisted, straightening her shoulders as she did so. "I promise, I won't call for you anymore."
Garen smiled softly at her. "You can always call for me, Lux." He reached for the book, and she loosened her grip, if not reluctantly. Garen returned the book to it's place on the bedside table.
"Next time," said Lux. "I'll stand up to her. I won't let her chop my head off, I promise. I'll- I'll fight if I must!"
"Our Lux in shining armor," he chuckled while tickling her side, earning a giggle from her. He nodded to the pillow and she crawled beneath the duvet, allowing herself to be tucked in. Garen considered her for a moment. "You know... sometimes, when you're faced with a nightmare, the best thing you can do is wake up and just come home." He tousled her hair. "Don't get lost out there in Wonderland."
❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢
Lux woke with a soft laugh, humor that faded as reality took it's place. The morning light was crisp and cool, the light of late spring. The book was no longer on the bedside table, replaced by a hairbrush, various essays and other literature scattered beneath a blown out candle. Her mother's footsteps approached in the hallway, and Lux allowed herself one plaintive groan beneath the duvet, before sitting upright and pretending that she had been awake for hours, a demure smile masking her exhaustion.
Lady Crownguard was flanked by three handmaids, whose fingers all poked and pricked at Lux throughout the morning. Her hair was combed, tamed, and pinned into place atop her head. She was cinched into a corset, stockings concealing her legs, the chemise and drawers likewise concealed by a light blue petticoat. Today's bodice was stark white with lace creeping up her throat ("Lace is all the rage in London this season," advised Lady Crownguard), a blue ribbon tied at her throat. Lux grimaced under the sensation: she had never been fond of things tight around her neck.
As the torture took place, Lady Crownguard briefed her on the day's events: most significantly, the tea party at Lymere House. Her mother droned on about the various guests in attendance, but Lux truly only cared for one. Ezreal Lymere, the nephew of Professor Lymere. He had just returned from his latest adventure, an expedition to Egypt. Lux had been reading up on the subject and was bursting with questions, hoping to bombard him at the soonest opportunity. She and Ezreal had become good friends, especially after her brother Garen had gone overseas to seek a trade deal in the Americas. Lux, feeling rather left behind, could take solace in Ezreal's adventures... and, more importantly, plan out her own.
The carriage ride was stuffy, as always. Her mother continued prattling about the latest gossip, but Lux had no interest in engagements and babies. Her attention was outside the carriage, watching the woods roll by. A white owl glided through the trees. She imagined herself following the bird, draped in loose-fitting cloth and riding a unicorn through the dappled sunlight.
"Luxanna," her mother's sharp voice. "Are you listening?"
"Yes," Lux lied. "Of course, mother."
Lady Crownguard paused, spreading her handkerchief in her lap thoughtfully. "Darling," she said, and Lux knew to pay attention. 'Darling' was reserved for two things: genuine praise, or serious news. Lux sincerely doubted it was the former. "I um... well, you are a woman now."
She certainly didn't feel like it, even though she knew she ought to, fresh from her teenage years. "Right."
"I was married by the time I was your age," Lady Crownguard said, her tone wistful. "Pregnant, in fact, before my twenty-first birthday."
Lux studied her.
Lady Crownguard reached for Lux's hand, the fabric of their gloves rubbing together. It was the closest to physical contact they ever approached these days. "I only wish the same bliss for you."
A claw of fear itched at Lux's heart. Marriage was inevitable, the doom that befell all young, reasonably well off women. But motherhood, Lux had been hoping to delay. It was just a matter of finding the right partner, which Lux was fairly certain she had secured.
Surely someone like Ezreal, with his hunger for life, would understand her, offer some relief when it came to marital responsibilities. Lux had been putting off the conversation with him, hoping to savor his friendship before they were burdened by marriage and all it's pitfalls, but her mother's meaning was clear: her time had run out.
In the woods, she watched the white owl disappear into the leaves.
Lux composed herself, masking her fear with a smile. "So do I, mother."
❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢
As soon as she arrived, Ezreal asked her to dance. He looked much more put together than normal, his wild hair subdued, his shirt buttoned to his neck, his waistcoat pressed and clean. She terrorized him for it under her breath, earning some smirks and returned comments.
Lux asked about Egypt and he was happy to oblige, his eyes lighting up as he told her of Cairo and the pyramids, sailing on the Nile. At one point, he became too engrossed in his story and they missed a crucial step of the dance, having to rush to catch up and ceasing further conversation. Annoyed by the interruption, Lux pulled him away once the song ended, promenading instead through the garden (always within eyesight, of course. It would be improper to expect any kind of privacy with the man she would spend the rest of her life with anyway).
Ezreal went on and on about ancient cities and pharaohs, legends and myths, and Lux drank in every word like a sweet wine. He spoke of the people he met, the food he ate, the means of transportation and what it was like to ride a camel, a creature which Lux had only ever read about.
"That sounds incredible," Lux sighed.
Someone cleared their throat far behind them: Lady Crownguard, watching from over the rim of her teacup. Ezreal, remembering himself, paused at the rose garden. "Ah, here you are," he said, plucking a white rose. "A pure rose for a pure lady."
"Thank you." Lux accepted the rose, pretending to be charmed. "You know, though, I actually prefer lavender roses."
"Lavender?" he chuckled. "What a queer color for a rose."
She smiled, a soft, fading smile. Lux glanced over her shoulder, though her mother appeared to be satisfied for the moment. "I see we're under the same scrutiny today."
Ezreal stiffened. "W-whatever do you mean?"
"Come off it," Lux said, bumping his shoulder playfully. "I'm not a dunce." She stroked the white petals. "Though I will say," she said shyly. "I'm rather glad it's you."
His eyes sparkled. "You are?"
"Of course," she giggled. "I never thought... well, you know how it is, our world. I never even dreamed that I'd have the opportunity to be with someone who I could explore with, have adventures, sail the high seas." She beamed at him. "And I'm just so entirely grateful."
Ezreal had gone quiet. He guided her to an iron-wrought bench and sat beside her, taking her gloved hands in his. "Lux... I want that, too, I really do. But... well, I'm sorry if I've given off the wrong impression, but... you know that can never happen, right?"
Lux blinked at him. Her heart, feeling as porcelain as a teacup, chipped a little at his words. "What?"
"You see, my uncle won't be around forever, and you won't be very well able to travel if you're with child or taking care of the children." Ezreal seemed more embarrassed than anything, as if he had simply told her that he used to wet the bed. "I thought... you had pieced that together."
More cracks in her teacup heart. Lux took a deep breath, forcing her mask into place. It, too, was cracking. "Right. Of course. Silly of me."
Concerned, Ezreal asked, "Are you alright?"
"I just need some air," she said too quickly, and rose in the same fashion. "I'll... I'll be right back."
There was a hedge near them, and beyond that, forest. Lux managed to keep her steps even as she walked, though she moved too fast. She could only pray that her mother had taken no notice, and as soon as she was behind the cover of the hedge, she bolted. Lux ran, her heels digging into the kept grass and then the unkempt earth of the forest. She found a large tree and threw herself against it, gasping for breath and clawing the ribbon around her throat.
Lux keeled over, wishing desperately to rip the corset off and free her burning lungs. She fought back tears, focusing on her breathing. One, two, three, four. She matched it to the ticking of the clock, one, two, three- wait, clock? Lux whipped around to face the source of the ticking.
A young man stood there. He was leaned back casually against a tree, one hand toying with a pocket-watch, the other deep in the pocket of a long jacket with various colorful designs painted along the hem. She was sure that she had not seen him at the party, as his bright blond locs would have been impossible to miss, matching the color of the concave hourglass symbol painted on his face. He glanced at her and smirked, and she felt like perhaps she had wandered by accident into the presence of some sort of trickster god.
"Oh, I'm-" she righted herself, having regained her breath. "I'm terribly sorry, is this your... glade?"
He was silent for a moment, assessing her, toying with the watch. "Luxanna Crownguard?" American accent.
She eyed him warily. "Yes? And who might you be?"
"Caitlyn sent me."
Lux combed her memory. "Caitlyn? Caitlyn... Kiramman?" She cocked her head to the side. "But... Caitlyn's been missing for months. She was abducted or something, by some woman she met in America."
"Is that what they told you?"
Lux felt suddenly like she was being left out of some joke, and despised the sensation. "You still haven't answered my question. Who are you?"
"... My name is Ekko. If you want to see your friend, you should come with me."
"What?" Lux looked back over her shoulder, but all that was visible at the edge of the forest was the hedge. She was surprised how little progress she'd made while running, after what felt like a marathon. "N-no, I... I shouldn't. I should be getting back." She paused. "Perhaps you ought to call Scotland Yard. I'm sure they'd be happy to assist you with..."
His smirk had faded. He blinked at her, slowly. He sighed, and with a decisive flick of his wrist, shoved the watch back into his pocket. "If you change your mind, follow the white owl."
Lux stared after him as he returned to the forest. "Pleasure meeting you," she offered half-heartedly, before composing herself and returning to the party.
❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢
The next hour or so was a haze. Lux, who had not been given the proper time to grieve the loss of her dreams, drifted about, let herself be shown where to sit and when to speak. She avoided Ezreal as much as she was able, hiding in swaths of the other young ladies. When her mother asked what she was doing, she said simply, "Letting him pursue me," which seemed to satisfy Lady Crownguard immensely.
During one riveting conversation about finger sandwiches, Lux noticed a woman at the edge of the social circles. She had been outcast, it seemed, invited still but not quite part of the crowd. Lux caught her sharp discerning eyes, and excused herself to meet the woman halfway, taking her stiff arm. "Lady Kiramman," Lux said, trying hard to sound warm.
Lady Kiramman seemed on edge, but accepted her greeting well enough. "Luxanna. It appears while I wasn't looking, you blossomed into a beautiful young woman."
"Thank you." She stuck to casual talk first, about the weather and Mr. Kiramman and finger sandwiches. When there was a lull, Lux murmured, "I... was wondering if you've heard from Caitlyn at all."
Lady Kiramman's eyes narrowed, as if assured that her suspicions were correct. "I know nothing more than the gossip column."
"I'm not trying to gossip," Lux said, unsure how to convince her of her earnest. "I'm just worried about her. How long has it been now?"
"... Seven months."
Lux winced, feeling a stab of guilt. How could so much time have passed without her realizing it? "That's dreadful. I'm so sorry."
Lady Kiramman shrugged it off, but Lux noticed her teacup shaking ever so slightly as she raised it to her lips. "I warned her, you know. The Americas are no place for a young woman of her fine breeding."
"Then why did she go?"
"Our ward, Jayce, invited her." Lady Kiramman sighed. "They had always been good friends, you see, and he had done well for himself at university. He even had a promising business arrangement with one of his classmates. Of course, that all fell apart when they both disappeared as well."
Lux's breath caught. "What?"
Lady Kiramman studied her, trying to discern her intentions. "Yes, haven't you read the papers? That's part of the whole scandal. Caitlyn, Jayce, and a few others all disappeared in a matter of weeks, including some prizefighter woman that Caitlyn had... befriended." She said the word through gritted teeth, which gave Lux the impression that it was not the most apt description of the relationship, just perhaps the most polite. "You really haven't heard any of this?"
Lux looked down at her folded hands, embarrassed. "No, I'm afraid... I suppose I heard something, but I'm not one for gossip."
"... An admirable quality." Lady Kiramman sipped her tea again, lost in thought. "There's nothing to be done about it, unfortunately. Neither the American nor British detectives I've hired were able to find anything." She paused, her face betraying her grief for only a moment. "I just hope that, wherever they ran off to... they're safe."
Before Lux could ask any more questions, a bell twinkled at the gazebo. She was ushered forward at the head of the crowd, up the gazebo's steps and all but into Ezreal's arms. Once everyone was in place, their shining faces all watching, Ezreal began his speech.
Lux found it impossible to concentrate on his words, however. Her gaze kept wandering to the crowd, all those waiting eyes. Her mother and Professor Lymere were front and center, though while the former seemed to be waiting with bated breath, he looked as if he wanted this to be done with so he could get back to his study and plan the next great adventure.
The thought drew her back to Ezreal. For so long, he had been her ship in the storm. She could bear all the drudgeries of society if it meant that she had someone, anyone, who could help her achieve her own desires. She had thought Ezreal was that person, but now, she saw him clearly. His adventures had never been hers to share: they were his prizes, something for him to bring home and simply permit her to awe. Their children would be blond and bright-eyed, their sons racing off to the next adventure while her daughters stood at the window, imaginations only taking them as far as the edge of the forest.
The forest. She could almost feel it's presence beyond the hedge. She wondered if Ekko was there, watching her through the branches. Was that where Caitlyn and company were being kept? Somewhere in some hollow tree, starved and tortured and begging for help? Perhaps it was the timekeeper himself who trapped them, and she was being lured, too.
Ezreal knelt. Had he already asked the question? He had stopped speaking, his cheeks flushed with nerves. He must have asked then, though she hadn't heard it.
After a long moment of silence he cleared his throat and asked again.
Someone spoke, and Lux realized it was her own voice. "I..."
Lux looked up once more, meeting the rigid gaze of Lady Kiramman.
"I..."
She was trapped anyway, wasn't she?
"I..."
White feathers glided above the crowd, eliciting screams from the younger ladies and 'Dear lord!'s from the older. The owl disappeared beyond the hedge, and without another thought, Lux took off after it.
As she ran, she tore the ribbon from her throat, discarding it at the white rose bush. The gloves followed, crumpling like small white corpses at the hedge line.
The owl led her deep into the woods, far deeper than she would have ever dared to go on her own. Lux's heart pounded in time with her running feet. She had never felt so alive.
In a distant glade, a large tree loomed, a massive hollow gaping in the center of the trunk. The owl dove into it. Lux caught herself on the edge of the bark, peering into the hollow. The darkness stretched away into oblivion.
A voice called to her from far behind. Lux steeled herself, hoisted her skirts over the edge, and fell.
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A Hatchday Gift
Miphlink Week Day 6: Hatchday
Link tries to think of a gift for Mipha's hatchday.
Rating: G
Words: 1924
Tags: Grief/Mourning, Memory Issues, Flower Symbolism, Canonical Character Death
Read on AO3
@miphlinkweek
---
He didn’t have a proper gift for her. Link rifled through his collection of materials for the third time. He had flowers, fish, and precious stones. Enough memories of his past had returned to know that nothing in his possession was Mipha’s favorite flower, fish, or stone. No matter how hard he tried to remember or how many times he sorted through his belongings, he still failed at picking which could be her favorite.
At least he’d remembered her hatchday.
After several days and a few discreet questions to the other Zora, Link nearly sobbed with relief when the date finally came back to him. It was still a week away, giving him time to find the best gift to lay at her statue. He just had to find out what an adequate gift would be.
For the next three days, Link laid flowers at the base of Mipha’s statue. Chrysanthemums grew on Lanaryu’s mountain slopes and riversides. He collected a bundle of red and white chrysanthemums and gently placed them at Mipha’s feet. If the other Zora saw him do so, they gave him the space to grieve. Each day, Link brought new flowers to replace the old ones while silently wracking his brain for a more personal gift.
On the fourth day, Sidon met him by the statue holding a bundle of rosemary and purple orchids. They weren’t native to Zora’s Domain, so Sidon must’ve found a traveling merchant or trekked beyond the Domain to find them himself. Link nodded wordlessly, but his smile conveyed his gratitude. They placed the flowers together.
-
By the fifth day, Link still remembered nothing about her gift preferences, and Mipha’s hatchday was two days away. Guilt gnawed at him for delaying his journey to Goron City. Vah Ruta had been calmed, but the great lizard shape of Vah Rudania still circled Death Mountain.
He glanced at where Vah Ruta now stood sentinel over the Zodobon Highlands. He’d considered leaving the flowers at the foot of the Divine Beast rather than the statue, as the statue was a memorial and not her true grave. But a whisper in his heart assured him she would have favored this choice. Her spirit no longer haunted the Divine Beast, and her statue was in her home and surrounded by her family.
Link cleared the dying flowers from her statue. He hadn’t brought new ones to replenish them. His mind recalled a conversation they’d once had while basking in a field of wildflowers. Mipha had enjoyed the sight and scent of flowers, but bouquets weren’t her choice of gift. She preferred flowers wild or cultivated but not cut. She’d said they were better off growing in their natural life than dying in a day. The long-lived Zora rarely decorated with cut flowers. They used jewelry and metalwork or occasionally textiles. The flowers Link had brought were more to soothe his own soul while he thought of something more suitable.
The thought of jewelry sparked an idea. Mipha always wore jewelry in silvers and blues that complimented her lovely red scales. Link had sold his last sapphires a few weeks ago. But the hills of Upland Zorana had mineral deposits. He placed a single chrysanthemum before departing. Sidon watched in solidarity but did not place anything himself. They shared a silent agreement that the flowers were not meant to make the statue a shrine to Mipha. From the Zora’s stories of the Champion Festival, it was Mipha’s wish to be remembered rather than mourned. The gifts from Link and Sidon were gifts of remembrance from a lover and a brother, not offerings from worshippers.
Equipped with a hammer from the Hammerhead workshop, the armor Mipha had crafted, and her Lightscale Trident, Link swam up the waterfalls. He’d polished the armor to a shine that morning, and he glimmered like a Zora in the water. The armor also protected him from the enemies he encountered. The bokoblins fell to the Lightscale Trident, but the spitting lizalfos got a shot in before he struck it down. He avoided the Guardians’ searching eyes and hunted for mineral deposits. They mostly contained luminous stones, which would make a suitable gift in a pinch if he could not find a sapphire.
But the golden goddesses smiled on him, and the last ore deposit gave him two sapphires. He had no time to travel to Gerudo Town and have them crafted into jewelry, so the uncut gems would have to do.
He returned in the afternoon. Sidon remained in his place beside the statue. He gave a soft smile at Link’s approach.
“Will you ask Dento if these could be added to the statue’s base?” Link said, showing Sidon the sapphires.
Sidon nodded. “I will. It’s a good gift. She always loved sapphires and opals.”
Opals. The memories struck Link like the lizalfos. An opal in his hand as he presented her the gift for her hatchday. The delighted smile on her face and shine in her eyes. Her melodious voice explained how she loved the iridescence of opals.
"They contain all the colors of other gemstones within them."
Mipha’s favorite gift was opals. And Link had none for her and two days left until her hatchday.
“Link?” The concern in Sidon’s voice brought him back to the present. “Are you all right?”
“I’m—I’m fine,” Link said through a choked throat. He blinked the tears from his eyes. “I forgot about the opals,” he whispered. “I didn’t find any.”
Sidon flashed his grin. “I’ll help you! We’ll search Tal Tal Peak first thing tomorrow!”
Link managed a grateful smile.
-
He left the Domain at dawn to meet Sidon, hammer in hand. Sidon had arrived first and cleared out most of the monsters lurking on the peak. Link lended his aid, and the Lightscale Trident sang through the air. Although the sword was his main weapon, his body fell back into the familiar movements of spear combat. Sidon fought very differently from Mipha, wielding twin spears rather than one and with fewer flips than Mipha’s graceful dance. But he was no less skillful, and they dispatched the monsters with ease.
“It is always a pleasure to fight alongside you, Link!” Sidon said, slightly breathless from the fight.
Link smiled and shrugged at the praise. It was unnecessary for such a quick skirmish, hardly a battle at all, but he was used to Sidon’s enthusiastic admiration. It was a wonder this young adult Zora was the same as the small child he knew a hundred years ago, always at Mipha’s heels and giving Link the disapproving frowns of a younger brother. They were true friends now, united by shared grief, warrior spirit, and easy companionship.
They searched the entire morning. Sidon passed the time with a mostly one-sided conversation about the day-to-day life of the Domain. Link contributed a word or two occasionally, but Sidon never required anything more. He was happy to fill the silence, and Link was happy to listen.
They paused at noon for a quick bite to eat. Sidon fished in the water while Link lit a fire and cooked a few apples. The Sheikah Slate swung against his leg when he sat down. Link bit back a curse. They’d wasted half a day when he could have used the slate’s sensing technology Symin had upgraded it with. He flicked through the compendium for a picture of the ore deposits. He couldn’t use the sensor for opals specifically. His fingers hovered over the map. Wouldn’t it just be easier to see if any opals were available to buy? Gerudo Town was known for gemstone jewelry, there were likely some to purchase.
Link shook his head. He’d spent this much time looking for Mipha’s gift already. He’d find an opal with Sidon’s help or not at all.
The sensor indicated southward. Link paraglided down while Sidon leapt off the side of the cliff and dove into the lake below. They explored the small valley between Tal Tal Peak and the mountains above the reservoir. There was a lake—more of a pond—in the center of the valley. The Sheikah Slate’s sensor increased frequency as they drew near.
A stone talus rose out of the water. Link threw the hammer at the ore deposit on its body. The hammer chipped off amethyst and pieces of luminous stone. Sidon descended on the talus, spears a whirling storm.
The talus’ arm caught Link's shoulder. The armor absorbed the worst of the blow, but his shoulder burned with pain, and he could not raise his trident. Sidon directed the talus’ attention away from him while the cool light of Mipha’s grace washed over his body and soothed his arm. His lips moved in thanks to her spirit.
Sidon wore down the monster, and Link ran in for the final attack. The mineral broke under the Lightscale Trident, and the stone talus burst into smoke.
Link rolled his shoulder, a minor ache still lingering. The prizes of the fight were scattered in the water. Mostly luminous stones, but Link spotted a few gems among them.
“Link, look!” Sidon shouted. He grabbed a gem from the water and held it out for Link to see.
An opal. The opaque white surface shimmered with a rainbow of color in the sunlight. Link covered his hands over Sidon’s and said, “Thank you.”
-
The talus battle had not lasted long, and they arrived back at Zora’s Domain before evening. Link placed the opal and the two sapphires at Mipha’s statue. Sidon spoke with Dento, who said the job could be finished in time by Mipha’s hatchday anniversary tomorrow. Link offered his help in cutting the gems, but Dento waved him away. They both knew his skills were fighting with weapons, not smithing or crafting.
He spent the rest of the evening sitting at the top of Veiled Falls, listening to the water and resting the Lightscale Trident on his knees. He and Mipha would sit here at nightfall and watch the Domain glow with the otherworldly light of luminous stones. The stones’ light was said to be the souls of the dead. When he walked through Zora’s Domain, Mipha’s spirit resided among every stone and gilded rail, every drop of water and beam of sunlight. The Zora people held her spirit in their own souls, her memory living on within them.
-
Dento finished his work mid-afternoon on Mipha’s hatchday. The day was not an official holiday in Zora’s Domain. The Champion Festival was meant to honor Mipha and her trident. But there was a palpable air around the Domain that day. Even though Mipha wished her people to remember her with joy instead of grief, the heart often had a difficult time letting go of old hurts.
Link knew that well.
But sorrow was not the only emotion in the air. There were smiles and well-wishes. The Zora loved their fallen princess, and with Vah Ruta now freed from the Calamity’s control, they could at last begin to heal.
Link found Sidon in his customary place at Mipha's statue. He greeted Link with a wide, gleaming grin and stepped aside so Link could see the new additions to the statue. Dento had shaped the gems into the three-crescent symbol of the Zora. The top crescent was the opal and the other two sapphires. The sunlight caught the gems in a perfectly glimmer of blue and prismatic iridescence.
His fingers brushed over the symbol, and he gazed up at Mipha’s tranquil face.
“Happy hatchday, Mipha.”
---
A/N: From what I could find about flower symbolism:
Chrysanthemums - love
Rosemary - remembrance
Purple orchids - admiration, royalty, respect
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Knight in shining armor - Dean Winchester x Reader
part 18
Once again: Don’t read just the beginning! Trust me! You will not regret it!
And it all was so obvious as you and Dean walked, holding hands, down the small forest. Your father had made his decision and it was all well-accepted by you and Dean.
You turned your head to look at him with a small smile that got just a little bigger as you saw his forest-green orbs shining brightly and his freckles like small stars shining because of the warm mid-day light shining over him. It was such abeautiful day. Pretty warm, but not too much. There were birds singing in the far distance as you could hear and even a small warm breeze was blowing. The rustling of the leaves gave you such a relaxed feeling that you just could not help but remember that one first time you had come with Dean here and were about to kiss. It was all before everything had started. Before all of this had started. But now it was over- It was going to be over. During such a beautiful say… it actually felt a shame that you were both going to die on such a day.
Dean’s hand took hold of yours, both your hands were bound together by a rope attached to a longer one that a soldier in front of you had hold of. You smiled ever so faintly at Dean looking deeply in his shining eyes- shining because of the welled up tears. But he refused to shed them and so did you. Your father had made his decision and you were both willing to accept it. Well, Dean had raised objections of course when the first words had been said but you were not taking no for an answer.
“Very well” your father had said, all emotion draining from his face and eyes.
“If this is what you want. Then so shall be it. You will be both be hanged tomorrow morning at the forest and till then you shall spend your last few hours here with him. Just so that you see what you are giving your life for.” he hissed the last words, his voice dripping with venom, as if it was filth.
“No” Dean had breathed out “No! No don’t you dare!” he had snapped, quickly getting on his feet but being held back by soldiers before he could make a move, you as well.
“You won’t do this” you had never heard this much fear in Dean’s voice before.
“She asked for it herself and that is how it’s going to be” your father had looked at Dean with such a hard look “You will both die. And you-” he had approached Dean, looking at him dead serious “-will die with her blood in your hands. Because it will be you that have caused her death.”
And he had dismissed you after that, ordering the soldiers to lock the both of you up and of course some to guard Henry’s room so that he would not escape and try to save you.
So here you were now. Walking the final steps to your death. Brought to you by your own father, oh wasn’t that pure luck.
He smiled ever so faintly at you as well but you could see the pain through it. You knew very well why that was.
“We’re going to be together” you whispered, just like you had done the previous night “I’m not going to let you go on the other side without me.”
“So I’m pretty much stuck with you for an eternity?” the corners of his lips lifted just slightly.
“Hey!” you said still in a low and slightly hoarse voice “I should be the one complaining” you let out a humorless chuckle that was cut by a sob, even if you tried to hold it back.
Dean’s smile immediately fell as even a tear slipped your eyes. You quickly brushed it off, trying to act brave but it was near impossible. Your throat felt tight and your eyes stung with tears. But it was not only because of the fact that you were about to die. It was because of the fear of being without him. Not being with Dean was a thought that made your heart tighten insufferably inside your chest.
Dean opened his mouth, ready to speak. His own face had fell and you could see his own lower lip tremble. He was ready to speak but before he could dare utter a word he was jerked forward by the rope tied to his hands, just like you were. You stumbled a little, almost falling which actually made Dean glare hard at them, a small growl leaving his lips.
You both soon had walked the small stairs up to the gallows. You looked straight in the eyes of your father as he stood a few feet away, a cold look in his eyes- not a single regret. You had come to the point to think that you did not recognize this man anymore. You did not see your mother here, and you didn’t have to guess that he had (like with Henry) ordered to keep her inside till all of this was over. You could see him still glaring at Dean but he turned his head from him to look at one of the soldiers that was there close to you.
He nodded his head, the soldier doing the same. Not many words were said but they weren’t needed anyway. He moved so that he placed the noose around your necks. Now it hang loose but you knew that it soon would not be this way. Inactual reality it had started to feel a little tight, as you felt as if you could not even swallow properly, although it was not near that. The soldier moved to the side as he took hold of the handle there. He squeezed it tight, ready to move it.
In just the few seconds left you turned your head to look at Dean who had his own head turned, already looking at you. You both smiled at each other, just a small way of trying to reassure each other. You wanted to reach out to him, to even hold his hand but you couldn’t with how they had tied your hands. You only looked at each other deeply in the eyes, not for a second wanting to break eye contact. Even till your last moments. You were going to die, yes. The both of you, yes. By your own father at that, yes. But if you died and had as a last image each other then- things did not seem all so bad.
“I love you” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
The soldier squeezed the handle more tight.
“I love you too” he whispered back.
He turned his head to look at your father.
“Always?” you asked back in a whisper.
Your father gave him a nod.
“Always and forever, sweetheart” he smirked just slightly and reassuringly.
And he pulled the handle.
The floor beneath you opened and in a swift movement it felt as if the entire ground was swept from your feet and you-
Woke up with a jolt.
Your eyes were wide and your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. It felt ready to break out of it and you put a hand on top of it. You tried to take in deep breaths to sooth yourself down.
It was all a dream.
Of course you thought as a smile spread on your lips.
“Baby?” a voice next to you was heard and you immediately turned your head to look at him.
You met the worried eyes of Dean Winchester.
“Hey, sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?” you whispered apologetically.
“Mhm Hadn’t fallen asleep properly yet” he shrugged slightly, a small grin on his lips as he ran his hand down your bare arm, moving it to ran his fingers down your bare spine.
You smiled sheepishly down at him, a small blush creeping up your cheeks and you tightened the hold of the silk sheet over your bare chest.
“Sorry again, though” you mumbled as you moved so that you could lay back down next to him, laying your head on his bare chest.
“What was it about?” he asked in a low voice.
“Nothing, it was nothing” you shook your head, trying to brush it off.
Dean tightened slightly his grip on you “(Y/n)” he sighed “I’ve had a fair amount of nightmares myself, most of them being these weeks for that matter. It is not nothing” he insisted.
You let a small sigh “I- It was a nightmare. You- you and I got hanged. We died. That’s all.” you ended up whispering.
Dean’s hold on you tightened a little bit and you let out a small content sigh. He kissed your forehead softly and you closed your eyes for a second.
“It was just a dream” he whispered soothingly “It was just a dream. None of that was real”
You nodded your head at him “I know. I know.” you opened your eyes to look up at him “It’s just- I’m still a little shaken after all of that” you shrugged slightly.
“I know” he whispered in a rough voice. It had been just a few hours ago that he was locked inside a cell and now – as much hard as it was – he was here with you. Holding you and not letting go ever again.
Who would have thought that all it took was for you to say how you actually felt to convince your father that you truly loved him. Your father seemed reluctant for a second but when he could really see how you felt about Dean there really was no choice for him to make. You were going to live just like Dean would. The two of you together.
Dean kissed your forehead softly. He kissed again a little lower and lower till his lips moved to your cheek and then he placed a kiss on your lips. And another. And another.
“Maybe I could do something to make you feel a little better?” you could hear and feel the small smirk on his lips.
You let out a small giggle, proceeding to hum “Mhm somebody wants a second round?” you mumbled in between the kisses.
“You mean third? Or wait fourth? Maybe more. I’ve really lost count with you” he said, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, his chest rumbling making you giggle yourself.
“I think fourth, now that you’re talking about it” you mumbled, as he moved to kiss your neck “But I’m kinda sore so-maybe if we could, you know, in the morning…?” you ended up asking, looking up at him a little shyly but he only smiled down at you, warmly.
“It’s ok. Only when you want to” he said, kissing your forehead.
“Thank you” you whispered as he laid back down, pulling your body close to his again and you rested your head on his chest again, his arms moving to wrap around your form.
You let out a small content sigh, closing your eyes momentarily just enjoying the warmth Dean provided you.
“You know-” his voice broke the silence, making your eyes open to look up at him.
He chuckled a little to himself before speaking again “You scared the hell outta me down there” you could not help a small giggle at hearing him speak the way he usually did, no formalities.
“I- I got scared that for a moment he was going to-” he swallowed, the frown evident on his features “That he was going to say yes and decide to kill us both. And it’s not that I am scared about me, it’s- it’s you- it’s you that I don’t even wanna think of something happening to” he ended up whispering, his eyes looking up at the ceiling or around at the curtains of the bed, but not at you.
Your body stiffen just slightly and you pursed your lips in a thin line, a frown set on your face as well.
“Would you-” you swallowed “Would you ever consider, stopping this before it all came down to that? Me begging my father for both our lives?” you asked tentatively.
He glanced at you for a second, letting out a sigh “I would never consider stopping this for anything” he let a small chuckle soon after that “Which is ironic cause I actually did, once. But- Truth is if I’d ever consider stopping this forever?No. No I wouldn’t. Call me selfish o-or greedy but I just- I guess you could say I am addicted”
“… To me?” you breathed out, biting your lip,
He looked down at you, a wide grin spread on his face- or more like a smirk “That surprised?” he raised an eyebrow “You’re pretty much addictive, you know” his voice was lower than before, his one hand running over your bare waist.
Goosebumps created all over your skin and you bit your lip, looking away from him shyly; a dark blush rising up our cheeks “Dean” you moaned slightly.
“I love it when you say my name that way” he almost purred in pleasure, pressing his lips to your cheek.
“Dean” you almost whined this time, hiding your face at the crook of his neck.
He laughed out loudly at this, kissing the top of your head this time and moving to lay back down on his back, his eyes looking at the ceiling again.
“But you know, now that I think about it. Maybe there is one thing that would make me want to stop this” he let out a rather sad sigh, his eyes closing for a moment.
“A-and that would be?” you really did not know if you wanted to hear the answer or not.
“What you want” he breathed out, glancing at you for a second.
“When you were with Henry I- I actually thought for a second that there was no point in fighting for you. You-” he sighed “It was obvious how you wanted him. Only him and honestly that was hard to take. I watched you fall for him more and more and I just could not take it. But you looked happy and I thought that if at least you were happy then so should I. Hard yeah I know but- if you think about it with him you actually where whereas with me you were always either hiding or having to be careful not to be seen. Really, when the heck did I ever make you happy without you having to worry? About the both of us at that” he shook his head “I thought for a second that finally you were getting what you actually deserved, somebody you actually deserved. All I could do was bring you pain and-”
“Dean” you wanted to shout at him but it only came out breathlessly and almost in horror. It instantly got his attention and he turned his head to look at you, stopping what he was saying. He frowned at you and you, with pursed lips and a deep frown, shook your head at him.
“No” you whispered “No.”
You brought one hand up and cupped his cheek. As he was about to open his mouth and question you, you pressed your lips to his. His eyes fluttered shut, he did not move for a little while and only let you kiss him.
“What?” he asked, pulling just slightly away to look at you with a frown. You looked down at him as you had crawled over and on top of him.
“Weren’t you sore?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Was. ” you pressed a kiss over his lips “Not anymore.” another on his jaw “Besides-” another under his jaw “Need-” you kissed over his jawline “-to get these fucking stupid ideas-” you peppered kisses down to his chest “-outta your mind” you licked occasionally “Now”
“Really?” Dean breathed out in disbelief, mostly at what you were doing, and you looked up at him from where you were kissing his abdomen , a small smirk on your lips.
“Well, I said now, didn’t I?” you smirked at him and he only grinned widely.
A small chuckle left his lips “Oh I’m a terrible influence”
“Nah” you shrugged, smiling widely and winking at him.
It was certainly going to be a long night.
~Next morning~
You let a small yawn as Anna combed through your hair “You didn’t get much sleep, my princess?” she asked and you could literally hear the smirk in her voice.
You giggle “Nope. Not much. But hey can you blame me?” you raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed as well.
“I’m just a little sad he was not here when I woke up” you added in a mutter, looking down at your hands.
“But the maids had to prepare him for breakfast princess, it is not that simple anymore. He is the future king after all.”
“The maids?” you frowned.
“Yes. They came this morning while you were still sleeping. Woke him up and led him to the royal baths and later onwould lead him to his new room to get him dressed. You are not to share a room before the wedding even if you already have… yeah” she chuckled to herself.
“Oh is that so” she nodded her head at your words, giving you the final touches “Then maybe we can go by there if you’re done.”
“Of course”
~*~
“No, hey- no need for that ok? I can do it myself, alright? Just- just stop for a second and listen damn it” Dean groaned in exasperation. Maybe being a royal was not an easy task in the end.
“We’re sorry but we were ordered to take care of you and prepare you for the breakfast, my lord” one of the maids said, looking down. Since he was actually not a prince or had any other royal title he was always going to be addressed as my lord, till of course your wedding.
“Well he can sure as hell prepare himself pretty well now.” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest as soon as you entered the room.
He seemed to let a small sigh of relief though he was too amused to care about that now. How could he not be after all?
“My princess-” one of them dared to speak “But the king ordered us to-” you didn’t let her finish of course.
“Forget what my father ordered you to do. I now order you to go tide my room and leave Dean on his freaking own. He’s got hands of his own, I’m sure he can take care of himself.” you said, smiling sarcastically at Dean but still glaring at him.
“Y-yes my princess” she replied, giving you a bow; as did the rest and they all left the room along with Anna.
You closed it as soon as the left and it didn’t take a second for your attention to be again on him as he started laughing out loudly.
“Something funny?” you raised an eyebrow at him, lips pursed in a thin line and hands on your hips.
“Well actually-” he could hardly keep his laughter “You know you didn’t have to snap at them like that. Poor girl seemed about to have a heart attack from looking at your glare. Maybe thought you were going to kill her.”
“Excuse me?” you scoffed.
“Come on they were just trying to do their job, maybe a little unsuccessfully since I was not co-operating but- still.” he shrugged, though the wide grin was still on his face.
“Of course they were” you rolled your eyes “Which is why you are standing half naked right here”
Dean laughed “Oh is that a hint of jealousy I’m seeing there?” a wide smirk covered his lips, especially as he saw your eyes widen for a second.
You laughed, rolling your eyes “As if”
“Oh but I think you are” he teased you, taking a few small steps closer to you.
“Shut up” you grumbled “I’m not jealous”
“Ok ok” he raised his hands in surrender “Whatever you say”
“I’m not, Dean!” you insisted “I just don’t get why they would have to- to do all that and- you’re practically naked- half naked, ok details. But point is- that- that-” you groaned in frustration “Just shut up! I’m not jealous, alright? I’m not!”
“Alright! Alright! I didn’t say you were. Nope” he shrugged, pretending innocent.
“But if I must say…” he came even closer to you, a smirk on his lips “You look absolutely adorable when you’re notjealous” he grinned widely as you groaned in frustration.
You were about to turn and leave but he caught you in the middle of that, his arms encircling your waist and not let you go. He pressed your back to his chest and you felt the deep rumble of it as he laughed wholeheartedly.
“Sorry sorry” he said, still laughing slightly “Sorry” he mumbled, his face buried at the crook of your neck for a little while “It’s just-” he looked up at you with a way-too-adorable-for-your-heart-to-take look “It makes me really happy to know you feel the same”
“I thought you’d know by now” you muttered, your arms still crossed over your chest; you were still playing hard.
“Oh trust me after last night every inch of doubt vanished for sure” he laughed and you could not help a small smile either; though you tried to not let him see.
He chuckled slightly “But what I meant is that- it’s nice to see I am not the only one getting possessive sometimes. It’s nice to know that you want me to be only yours just like I want you to be mine. And only mine.” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your neck in a soft kiss. And another. And another. And another.
If it was hard to hide your smile before, it now was impossible. But that just did not mean you were going to give him the satisfaction.
“Whatever” you rolled your eyes, pushing him away “Just get dressed Winchester. My father is waiting for us. And don’t take long or else-” you tried to put on a serious face, pointing a finger on him.
“Just get done quickly. I’ll be waiting outside”
“As you wish my princess” he said, bowing at you though a smirk was on his lips.
You visibly rolled your eyes at him but tried to keep the smile at bay as much as possible.
He winked at you and chuckled as you sent him a small glare, but exited the room to let him get ready on his own.
~*~
“Well finally!” your father exclaimed with a smile as soon as you and Dean entered the dining room.
“Sorry, it took a little while to get ready” you said with a small laugh.
“It better be that cause I am too young to be a grandfather already” your father said with a deep chuckle your mother laughing slightly along with him, shaking her head, and your own eyes widened.
“Dad!” you hissed but Dean chuckled as well, only to earn a glare from you.
It made him shut up for a second but you could still see him laugh a little when you turned your head away.
“Come, seat” he gestured to you.
You sighed softly, making your way to your already set place. You looked at Dean who seemed a little reluctant, thinking once again if this was where he should really seat or if he was supposed to take his place behind your father’s seat.
“Dean” you said softly and his attention snapped to you “Seat” you smiled reassuringly and he nodded slowly.
He took his seat next to you, but still seemed to be deep in thought, his eyes roaming the entire place; worried about everybody’s looks. That was something you felt as well so you could relate to him. But for the moment you were among your family, your loved ones and the ones hat knew you and accepted you so you did not have- you did not want to think about that. You only wanted to enjoy this for now and when the time came you knew everybody would in the end accept it. And if they didn’t? Well, you did not want to care. As long as you were with Dean you had all you wanted.
“Hey” you whispered softly, placing a hand over his. You only smiled at him and he did not need you to say anything to realize what you meant to say. What you were saying with your eyes.
He smiled as well, letting a small sigh and you smiled even more at it. You leaned in to press your lips to his in a kiss but the second your lips touched his, he immediately pulled away. You would have laughed at the look on his face, especially the wide eyes. If you were not feeling quiet offended anyway.
“What?” you asked.
“What what?” he whisper-hissed “Your father’s here!” the look on his eyes was certainly one to make you laugh.
“You’re kidding me right?”
“What? No!” and the funniest thing was that he actually meant it.
“Dean, do I need to remind you how he found us just the previous morning?”
“…No.” he cleared his throat awkwardly “But even if he did, we do not have to actually show it so openly”
You bit your tongue to keep yourself from snapping at him. It actually was getting too irrational.
“So Dean-” your father spoke up, effectively getting your attention away “-I hope you found your new room and bedquite comfortable”
Dean smiled “Uh yeah I d-”
“He didn’t really have time to check it out much” you cut Dean off before he could continue “He slept at my room last night” you said casually, but actually made Dean’s eyes widen.
Your father chuckled “I should have guessed”
“Wow poor Dean. She’s already ruining you huh?” Arthur asked sarcastically but you could not help but have a small smile on your lips as you glared playfully at him.
Dean chuckled, feeling a little more at ease “Maybe it is my doing”
“Maybe” Arthur shrugged “But I feel sorry for you.”
“Arthur!” Morgana exclaimed, glaring at him.
“What?” he asked shrugging “I actually feel sorry for both of you now that I think about it” he seemed to talk mostly to himself.
“Me and (Y/n)?” Dean frowned.
“You and Sa- Ow!” he cut himself off before he could finish his sentence.
“What was that for!?” he asked, turning to look at Morgana with a frown.
“Just shut up and eat your breakfast” she glared at him, certainly meaning to say more than she already was.
Dean could not help but frown too but you certainly had a knowing smile on your face. He shook his own head but smiled nonetheless. Maybe Arthur’s jokes were a little out of taste, or at least for Morgana anyway. Mostly because she did not want anyone else to know anything about her and Sam but the end result was Dean relaxing so that was what mattered. He seemed more at ease now. It didn’t look as if he felt out of place completely.
“Forgive Arthur, Dean” your mother spoke to him with a gentle smile.
Dean smiled just barely “It’s ok. I don’t mind. I actually appreciate your trying to make me comfortable.” he shrugged.
“Dean” she sighed “There is absolutely no need to thank us. You are part of the family. You always were, now it’s just more official”
“Yeah… probably not the way it should though” he clenched his jaw, looking down at his own food and you let a sigh of your own. Before you could speak though, your father did.
“It is just the right way, Dean” your father spoke in a firm but a little sad voice tone “I know-” he stopped himself for a moment and looked down “I know that they way I acted at first was not right. I felt guilty about it from the beginning, don’t doubt about it. I only forced myself to do what I was about to because I thought it was the right thing to do. I did not want it in the least bit, though, please believe that.” he looked at him sincerely. It didn’t even surprise you how he was being so honest and open with Dean, seeing as he saw him as a son more than just another knight.
“It is not hard to understand” Dean mumbled, turning his head to look at you with a barely visible smile. Maybe a sad one at that.
“But do not doubt that despite everything I would have never wanted it to be any different” he looked at him fully in the eyes “I had my doubts in the beginning, yes, and that was what led me to do what I did. For what I am sorry Dean. But I luckily realized that you meant a lot to her. I do not care of your status Dean, you’ve known me your entire life to know that what I really think and that what I really want is for my family to be happy.”
The corner of Dean’s mouth lifted to a half smile “I remember you saying how you’d always do everything for them. How you’d be willing to give your life for the ones you loved. I didn’t know much then, but I now understand” he nodded his head.
You smiled slightly, placing your hand on top of his and linking fingers with his. Dean giving you a small squeeze.
“Trust me. The only reason that made be willing to do what I was about to was only because I wanted to protect her. Not your status, not who you are but only her. But knowing- knowing that you truly love her and so does she, I do not have any reason anymore to not want you with her.” he smiled “I’ll be honest a prince would have been a good choice-” he added.
“Dad!” you exclaimed, irritated.
He chuckled “I’m kidding. Just kidding. As long as you two are happy then so am I. Besides, I know you will do a good job at ruling the kingdom. I taught you well”
“Glad to know that then” Dean smiled in appreciation, nodding his head.
Your father did the same, with silence following shortly afterwards.
.
..
…
“So… if I get this right, our sweet and innocent princess jumped yo-”
“Arthur!” both you and Morgana exclaimed, effectively cutting him off before he could say much.
Dean’s eyes were a little wide but an amused grin was starting to appear on his lips.
“Welcome to the family Dean” your mother said with an awkward smile and you let out a sigh.
But good thing was that Dean actually laughed, so it was enough for you to smile anyway.
And the rest of the morning was luckily uneventful, just like the entire day and-
~Time Skip~
You let out an almost shaky sigh as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. It had been so long it was impossible to comprehend. All those months felt like just a few hours and now the minutes as you waited felt like centuries. It felt like you were centuries away from that moment. From him.
It was so hard to understand but as your heart hammered in your chest like never before, as you could barely hear anything else from the blood rushing to your ears, your breath hitching on your throat and your lungs hurting and protesting for air but you still refused to breath in- you honestly could not think about all the time that had passed and how quickly that was. Because the moment had- was about to come and you could certainly not keep the smile away from your lips anymore.
The memories were all in a blur as they flashed by your eyes. They were so many, both happy and sad. From the moment you first laid eyes on Dean, to him locking his with yours, to the first time you heard his voice; so deep that it shook you to the core, to your name leaving his lips for the first time and then those lips touching yours for the first time. And then another time. And another. And another. His lips and then his hands being all over you in all those secret places as you hid from everyone and everything. The feeling he gave you was still there as you thought back to those moments. And then the feelings of when he left you were there as well. But it all vanished, it all went away as the memory of being in his arms again made your heart swell and the smile get even bigger. You cheeks really hurt by now.
So many memories. They all became blurred as you thought about it. From happy to sad ones. There had been some difficult times, even when you got together again. It was hard for the kingdom, some of them at least, to accept how you and Dean were together. Mostly because Dean would not stop beating himself about it. It really took you so many times-nights basically to convince him you would never want anybody else but him. No prince, no king but only him. Just the way he was. He seemed to believe you sometimes but even when he did not you would never stop but want to show him that he was the only one you wanted.
And just like him, so did the rest of the kingdom get used to the situation. Most of them after all knew him already and really thought he would be an ideal king. And that was a moment that was going to come soon. After this one. After the seconds-centuries passed and the door opened.
Arthur walked in smiling at you and placed two hands over your shoulders “Ready?” he asked and you nodded, nerves setting in more than ever before.
What bride wouldn’t feel nervous right before their own wedding after all?
~*~
The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you realized that there were just a few steps and you’d be standing right next to Dean and in front of your father, ready to be married. Your nerves were getting the best of you and you started to feel a little dizzy but then again you knew fully well it was just not the nerves.
You knew after all that you should get used to this even after the wedding. For the rest few months after all waking up to feeling dizzy and almost throwing up every morning was going to be your routine for quite a while. Maybe it was early but you knew you loved Dean so that was what only mattered to you. Having his kid was yet another gift sent from heaven. One just as precious as meeting Dean himself.
You squeezed Arthur’s hand without realizing it and he did the same to give you some encouragement. He smiled reassuringly “It’s going to be ok”
You nodded your head, a little absentminded but still smiling widely nonetheless “Yeah” you breathed out, not being able to unlocked your eyes from Dean’s. The grin plastered on his face as he waited at the top of the stairs, you were sure, was just as wide as yours.
“He’s so handsome” you breathed, not only because of how he was dressed up or looked pretty much perfect in his white suit and with his hair brushed back just like that day on your birthday. It was mostly because of the wide grin spread on his lips and his eyes shining so brightly and as you got even closer you only realized that the sparkle you were seeing was because of the tears that had welled up in his eyes. No wonder, seeing as you were tearing up as well.
It seemed to be impossible for the both of you to believe how after all this time, after all these struggles you were finally here. About to get married. With nobody raising an objection and you (most important) being able to fully express how you felt about each other. No hiding, no lies, no secrets. You were free. And as you realized it you began to realize how you could breathe more freely. Like there was nothing holding you back anymore. No weight on your shoulders. No pain making your heart feel heavy like a rock. Nothing.
“Hey” Dean whispered, leaning to give you a kiss on the cheek.
You giggled slightly “Hey” you breathed out with a big smile.
“You look stunning” he said in just a low voice, looking down at your wedding dress for a second.
“You’re not so bad yourself” you said cheekily and he chuckled deeply.
Dean opened his mouth to speak but your father clearing his throat cut him off before he could say anything. That was mainly the reason why he had not accompanied you to Dean. He was going to be the one to carry the ceremony.
“We-” he spoke in a loud and clear voice, and you both turned to look at him, Dean quick to take a hold of your hand and the corners of your lips immediately curled up in a smile , especially as you noticed the smirk on Dean’s lips “-have gathered here to join the lives of two people-”
You didn’t really hear anything more after that and you were pretty sure Dean didn’t either as he constantly kept sneaking glances at you. You did the same and when your eyes locked he’d only wink at you with a cheeky smile.
“I love you” you heard him whisper and as soon as you turned your head you saw him looking directly back at you, his eyes holding an emotion that made your heart swell in your chest.
You could not do anything else but smile back at him, a shaky breath leaving your lips for a moment.
“I love you too…” the corners of your lips pulled into a smile as you realized the true feeling of pure happiness you felt at being with Dean. You were going to be with him for the rest of your life now.
“… my knight in shining armor”
The End
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Little alternate ending fic I wrote for Double Life! Beware the angst :D
---
When it ended, the Ranch was gone. Burnt to ash in the heat of the red wars, the animals slaughtered and windows shattered. All that remained were the memories.
Memories, and two lonely reds with blood on their hands and guilt in their hearts. The crying wind lamented the lost lives in a mournful song as it wove through the trees, brushing strands of hair into Jimmy's face. It had been so long since he last cut his hair.
God. Out of everything, why was that what he thought of?
“So,” he started, letting the word be taken by the wind.
“So,” Tango repeated, red eyes that Jimmy had spent so long gazing into flicking away, glancing at the ground. “We won.”
Jimmy let his shoulders sag, the tension he had been holding in his entire body gone. “We won. We won.” He let out a soft, breathy laugh. “We won!”
Tango chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn't think we'd actually…”
“Me neither!” Jimmy exclaimed, smiling. “Oh, my gosh. Oh my gosh. Does that mean...?” He looked around. “Is there a way out? We won, right? Is there supposed to be some sort of announcement- gosh, I can't believe we broke the curse, I…” He noticed that Tango was being... unusually quiet. Turning back to his rancher, Jimmy felt his smile drop at the sorrowful expression on Tango's face. “...Tango? What's wrong, buddy? Speak to me.”
Tango's eyes met Jimmy's, eyes the colour of poppies gazing at eyes like the sky. “Jimmy…” His voice, which had always been so bright and cheery, sounded like it was weighed down by lead.
Jimmy felt his heart sink, and he took a few steps forward. “No. No, Tango, don't.” Desperation pushed him forward, and soon he was right in front of his soulmate. “You can't do this to me, Tango. Don't tell me that-”
“There can only be one winner,” Tango finished, his voice a quiet whisper. “I'm so sorry, Jimmy.” Reaching up, he began to unbuckle his chestplate.
“No, no- Tango-” Jimmy put his hands over Tango's, holding tight. “We- there has to be another way. We'll figure something out! You're good with redstone, right?” He laughed, but there was nothing happy about the sound. “You're good with redstone! I'm sure there's some contraption you can make that can get us out of here!”
“Jimmy.” Tango's voice broke, tears already shining in his eyes. “Jimmy, there's no way out of here. No way out alive.” He stepped away, finishing with unbuckling his chestplate. He discarded the heavy armor to the side with a soft sigh, before quickly doing the same with his boots and pants. “We have to die.”
Jimmy felt hot tears of anger and sorrow welling up in his eyes, and he angrily sniffled. “Tango…” Never had he felt so helpless. Never.
Tango unsheathed his sword and flipped it around, holding on carefully to the blade as he held the hilt out to Jimmy. “I want you to kill me.”
The words were a punch to the gut, and Jimmy felt as though all the air had left his lungs. He could only stare at those desperate, pleading eyes as the first few tears began to fall down his face. “...no. No, no, no, absolutely not, I can't- I couldn't-!”
Tango smiled sadly, bowing his head slightly. “Think of it as payback for me losing our first life.” Despite how he was trying so hard to stay brave, his voice shook.
Jimmy began to cry as well, his eyes blurring with tears that he tried to blink away frustratedly. “No! Tango, you can't- it's unfair! This whole thing! It's so unfair! I won't- I can't-!”
“Jimmy!”
Jimmy went silent.
“Take it.” Tango thrust the sword toward Jimmy, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. “Take the sword, Jimmy. Take it and kill me.” He finally looked up, tears streaming down his face as he met those sky-coloured eyes. “Kill me, Jimmy. Kill me and win.”
“We'll both die anyway,” Jimmy got out, as he took the sword nonetheless.
“I know.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“I know.”
Jimmy took a deep, shaking breath, sword at his side, and closed the distance between them. He rested his forehead against Tango's, wrapping his wings- clipped, broken, unable to carry him to the stars- around them both. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Tango gave him an encouraging smile. “Go on. Break that curse. For good.” He brought his hands up to gently wipe away the tears staining Jimmy's face. “My rancher.”
TangoTek was slain by SolidarityGaming. SolidarityGaming died.
#my writing#ranchers#traffic smp#double life#tango tek#jimmy solidarity#double life tango#double life jimmy#ranchers win au
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The Perverse Angel and His Wicked Thoughts
Direct Continuation to Divinity in Impurity
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: Please forgive me for the awful title. I just had no idea how/what else to title it
-
Simeon never knew what true anxiety felt like until he’s back standing in front of your door. His knees feel weak, his heart beating against his chest, echoing and shattering his ribs into sharp pieces that cut into his skin and make him choke on his own blood. His breath is shallow and when he knocks against the wood, you’re quirk to open the door with a smile on your face. You let him enter your room with a wave and a smile, quickly going in for a hug when he’s inside, letting the door click close behind the both of you.
Stepping inside of your room, he’s acutely aware of everything that goes on inside, the way that your scent is heavy in the air, consuming every object, how you walk so freely without a care, trusting him with your safety, knowing that he would never do anything so harmful and perverted to you. Blood is bitter on his tongue, his teeth piercing against the insides of his cheeks when he accidently bites a bit too hard. He hisses, a hand wavering to cup his cheek but he falters, repulsed by his bare hand. And yet, you’re quick to come to his aid, worry in your eyes and your lips parted asking if he’s okay. Your touch is warm, different from his own and he jumps at your contact, stepping around you to walk and sit on your bed. He can’t bear to feel your touch, not when he just did something so awful- so grotesque and perverted.
The bed dips under his weight, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip and his eyes are glued on your figure, sweat beading at his forehead as you walk towards. He sits on your bed, his hands shaky and when you question his nervousness, he waves it off. It’s nothing- really, don’t pressure him. Guilt has started to eat him, sinking its teeth into his skin and while he can’t look at you, you make no comment about it, sitting beside him, your legs seated under you.
You hand cups over his and he lets his head fall, his muscles tense as you call his name. His hand goes rigid, and while you hold the top of his hand, your fingers slip between the spaces of his and you hold tightly to his hand while he just sits there.
“Simeon,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze, “can you look at me?”
Something catches in his throat, his lungs devoid of air, deflating into nothing as he shakes his head. His lips are pulled thin, any breath that he tries to take is through his nose, a deep inhale that is shakily released through his parted lips. How could he ever look at you when he did what he did? How could he even allow you to hold his hand? It’s his own deviance that clutches around his chest and drags him further into the dark pool that is his sin.
“Is this about what you saw?” Your voice is gentle, concern and puzzlement laced into your words as your knee bumps against his. “Sim, I told you that it was okay.” He can hear the smile, reassuring that what he saw wasn’t anything bad but you don’t know what he did. His legs begin to bounce, shaking the bed and his lips grow dry. “You don’t have to feel guilty over it. I should have told you that I was changing or even locked the door.” A playful chuckle fills the room and when he remains unresponsive, your hand slowly uncurls and slips away.
His hand is left cold and empty, a foreign feeling that he does not welcome. Quickly, his other hand clasps over yours, trapping it against his wrist. He takes shaky breaths, his chest wavering with every inhale and exhale. With your hand under his, he shakes, and releases his hand from you, apologizing under his breath. Immediately, he misses the feel of your hand.
You take in a sharp inhale, your shoulders slumping and his heart drops. You’ve allowed him to enter your room, you held his hand and yet, he’s here, with his innocence tainted and forever blemished by his actions. “Simeon-”
“I- I’m so sorry.” He covers his face with his hands, and he recoils away from his touch. His teeth are gritted and he turns to you, his brows wrinkling his face and he wonders how pathetic he looks to you. “I- I’m so sorry,” he repeats, his voice breaking and his stomach twists into tight knots.
Instead of disgust, you smile sadly at him, your hands coming out to hold the hand that he had used to masturbate to you. He wonders if you’d turn away from him, if you’d wipe your hand from his touch, if you knew what he had done.
The look that you give him is enough to make a storm of butterflies form in his stomach. “I already told you-”
Acid bubbles in his throat, burning and making it harder to breathe with every passing second. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship that he has with you, but he can’t live with himself if he doesn’t tell you. A prayer starts to form, a simple thought that is burst with judgement on him. Your words are distant and he isn’t sure what you’re saying, he can’t hear you but he can see and feel you. He can see your smile, how your eyes dart to the door and the soft feel of your hand. He feels as if he’s being choked, a tight grip around throat has tears brimming in his eyes. He wonders how much of himself is clouded from the eyes of God. He feels too much, his worry and guilt bubbling over that leaves him feeling exposed. “I masturbated to you.” There’s a pause in the room, your eyes blinking owlishly as you try to comprehend the words. “I- I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking at the floor, leaning away from you but he still lets his hand be held in yours. Shock settles as the words have filled the room, slowly filling your mind. “I-” He deflates and stops talking.
Neither of you speak for some time, words clutched at your heart and his stuck on his throat. He wishes he could take back the words, but he can’t deny the sweet relief that he felt when he confessed. Your hand slowly pulls away and he wants to cry and collapse onto his knees, begging for forgiveness.
“You-” you start, pursing your lips together- “You masturbated to me?” He nods, believing that he is unworthy to even speak to you after what he did. “Before you came- Er, When you arrived the first time to my room?”
He supposes he deserves the questioning and the sick feeling that settles in his stomach. “When- When I saw you I had fled and when I arrived at my room, I- I had-” He fits back a sob. He’s never felt so dirty.
“Simmy,” your voice is calm, and your hands return to him. Hsi eyes are wide and without knowing what’s going on, you pull him close to your chest, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your hands curl over the back of his head, cradling him gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart; don’t cry.” Your kindness only makes him sob, his body shaking and his hands, as dirty as they are, clutch to the back of your shirt. “You- It’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad or anything. I mean-” you shift under him and he fears that it’s discomfort and rejection, so he clutches tighter at you and pushes himself further into you. “Sh,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. Just relax, okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, turning his head, his breath hot against your neck. “I- I was weak. Please forgive me.” You smell sweet, the overlapping of your cream invades his senses but underneath, he can smell you, your scent that calls out to him and it only makes him want to cling tighter to you. He doesn’t want to separate himself from your embrace even if it's something out of pity. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Simmy,” you say softly, rocking him gently in your arms. “You’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, I’m-” you let out a laugh, it’s short and humorless- “I’m actually a bit er- honoured? No, flattered.” His eyes widen and he pulls away from you, tears streak against his cheeks and he looks at you with wide eyes. Your body shifts under his gaze and you force yourself to look at him. “I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Well, not sweet, but hot?” You give him a smile, and while it doesn’t reach your eyes, he knows that it isn’t something bitter. “I kind of assumed you hadn’t felt anything to me and well, while masturbating isn’t a confirmation of feelings, I’m flattered that you find me attractive enough to jerk off at the thought of me.” You swallow nervously and you look away from him. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”
“No!” He says, holding your hands in his. “I- How could I not find you attractive? I- You’re the only human- the only being who ever made me feel so- so-” his hand clutches over where his heart would rest, twisting the fabric in his hands- “so alive,” he breathes out. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I never want to be apart from you. I would be a fool to not find you attractive, to not see your beauty and want you as you are. Here I am, the angel that is meant to remain pure and yet I was tempted by someone-” his knuckles brush against your cheek, curving at your bone and gliding down until they reach the corners of your lips- “and I’d do it all over again if it meant that you would even have an ounce of happiness.” He lets his hand fall, smiling at you, with fondness. “I am nothing more than your angel.” He bows his head slightly, bringing your hand to his lips, letting your knuckles grace him with your touch.
“A knight in shining armor,” you muse, your hand falling under his chin and pushing gently to have him look at you. He meets your eyes with readiness to accept whatever it is you want, ready to follow your commands. While he has no contract that binds him to you, he’d do whatever you would want of him. You accepted him and his secret, the least he could do is bow before you.
Your smile twitches for a moment, faltering for a second and he frowns. His eyes never leave your face, watching your expression change, slowly morphing into a curious look that has him leaning his body close to yours. He watches as your tongue peeks to wet your lips, the soft, pink muscle teasing him and with his thoughts safe in your room and with you, he wonders how your tongue would feel in his mouth, how it would feel if it were against his body and curled around his burning skin.
“Simeon?” He gives a curt nod in your direction, listening and clinging to your every word. “Can you show me?” His blood runs cold at the immediate understandment of your words. His heart races, pumping his angelic blood through his body and with a heavy heart, he can feel the familiar and yet alien feeling of his member throb under the confines of his pants. “I wanna see how you touched yourself.”
Limbs bump into each other, your hands leaving a trail of goosebumps as you move against him. He isn’t sure how he's gotten to lay against your pillows with his pants past his thighs and his cock already half erect. His breath hangs heavy in the room, his chest taking deep slow breaths as he watches his own hand circle around his cock. He can feel your eyes on him, how you watch his every move with an unblinking gaze, entranced by the angel who remains partially dressed. His mouth is dry and he lets his hand take a shaky stroke against himself, letting out a whine at the feeling. It isn’t pleasurable but it isn’t horrible either. It’s just a touch. He wants to make it a show, but he’s so new to this, so inexperienced and while your human curiosity is taking over, leaning onto him, he can’t do much more than stare at his cock that beads with pearls.
“I- I need help,” he mutters. “It feels so new, so alien to touch myself. I’m-”
You cut his words off with a kiss, your body moving to rest above his, your weight pressing down on him. His cock hardens, pulsing in his hand and with a jerky motion, he proceeds to touch himself. Your tongue enters his mouth and he greedily sucks on it, pushing himself upwards to deepen the kiss, working his hand in a similar motion. The tight feeling in his stomach returns, quicker and tighter than before. Your hand glides to his chest, slipping under his shirt and thumbing around his nipple, humming into his mouth when he hardens under your touch. You pull away with spit covered lips, your eyes glazed over with honeyed lust, smiling down at him and kissing at neck, suckling softly, letting your teeth pinch at his skin.
The feels are all so new to him, and he’s moaning under you, whining and jerking his hips upwards. “Come on Simeon,” you whisper against his skin, “go a little bit faster, Let me see how you treated yourself when you jerked off to me.” You sit above him, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs under his bottom lip. “Am I the first person you’ve ever jerked off to?” he lets out a pained whimper, nodding his head to the best of his ability without shaking you off. “Use your words,” you advise, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his temple. “I want to hear all the perverted details.”
“Yes,” he croaks out, his leg bumping upwards as his high slowly approaches. “I-” his lips press into a thin line as he tries to muffle his moans- “I hadn’t touched myself before. I thought of you and your body, I thought about how you’d feel- how different your hands would feel compared to mine.”
“If you’re a good boy and finish, I’ll be sure to pleasure you.” Your smile is coquettish, your tone sultry as you grab his arm, and let the hand that had been clutching the covers curve over your chest. “When I called you, were you busy touching yourself?”
“Yes,” he breathes out, “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear you call my name. Even now, I’m surprised that you’re doing so much for me, touching me and not- and not-” his voice tightens, tears brimming against his eyes- “not finding me repulsive. I- I- You were my first, The first that I had ever felt such feeling for. Please, I beg of you, kiss me again. I want to kiss you and make sure that this is all real and not some sick, perverse dream that I had come up with. That if I fall, if I lose my wings, at least I’ll have kissed you before that.” Tears fall, and he can feel the pressure building, so close to spilling over and the tight rope in his stomach threatening to snap.
“Oh Simeon,” you coo, your smile bittersweet. Your head shakes softly, your hands smoothing back his hair and cupping his face. “I’ll stand beside you no matter what, sweetheart. I could never turn away from you.” Your lips press against his and with your confession, he releases, moaning and moving his free hand to hold your back as he shakes under you.
His seed paints his hand and thighs in white ropes. Tears stain the kiss,and when you pull away, he whines, missing the contact. You move off of him and he wants to cry, moving to nuzzle into your chest. His hand sticks to the back of your shirt, sullying you in his seed as he cock lays between him and you, nestled against your sex. He shakes, the afterglow making him so sensitive to touch that even your hand playing with the ends of his hair has him and letting out shaky breaths. His chest feels light, full of air and your scent, his ears hearing your heart beat erratically- whatever facade you had about staying calm and playful as he pleasured himself was only that, a facade. You kiss the top of his head and promise that when he’s calmed down, you’ll fulfill your promise of touching him. He nods his head, trying to steady himself, desperate to feel your hands against his virgin cock.
#obey me#obey shall we date#om swd#obey me simeon smut#obey me simeon#obey me simeon x reader#obey me simeon imagines#obey me simeon headcanons#obey me simeon x mc#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#its almost been a month#oh my god#why am i like this#someone bully me into writing more#or like idk guiltrip me#fuck#i have ideas but fuck
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Saving grace // Yandere! Kakucho x Reader.
cw: Drugging, Kidnapping, sexual themes, slut shaming, yandere.
summary: You’ve known Kakucho practically all your life, unbeknownst to you, he’s been in love with the version of you he’s had in his head.

You and Kakucho have known each other for years, practically growing up together. He’s been with you through it all, your parents divorce, your mothers passing, the falling outs of you and your previous group of friends, and finally, he was there to pick you back up from the pieces you were left in from your previous partners. Unbeknownst to you, your closest companion was in love with you, and soon, you’d find that out in the worst possible way.
Now if Kakucho were to describe you in one word, it’d be “Angel.” Even if you were far from it, maybe somewhere along the lines he fell in love with the version of you he had in his head. Whatever it was, it was more of a borderline obsession than love. In his eyes you could do no wrong. He’s even envisioned multiple futures with you, and would stop at nothing to make at least one of them come true no matter how many people he had to get rid of in the process. Hell, he was one of the top executives in Japan’s most feared gang, he definitely had the power to make it happen.
As Kakucho had his secrets, so did you. You were no angel, not even close to being one. You were quite the manipulative little whore, sleeping around with men and women alike, stringing them along for you own amusement just to leave them afterwards. Giving them false hopes of a future together, just to leave them heartbroken after getting what you wanted in the end. Of course no ones ever called you out on your actions. How could they? When you have someone like Kakucho who literally worshiped the ground you walked on at your disposal. All it took some fake tears and a sob story to have him come running to your rescue like the knight in shining armor he is.
Tonight was the night you’d have some fun, you heard from a friend of a friend that a new nightclub had just opened up in Roppongi, and luckily for you, he had managed to get you and your friend in. As you run around your room looking for something to wear, you stumble upon a black mini dress that had stopped right under the curve of your ass, the front had a low cut and showed off the perfect amount of cleavage. After putting the dress on you look in the mirror admiring the way the dress perfectly hugs your body, a buzzing sound cuts your thoughts short however heading to the source of the buzzing you pick your phone up to check it. Two unread messages, one from your friend and one from Kakucho. You decided to open the one from your friend first.
F/n: hey, y/n. You ready? I’m outside.
Y/n: yea, give me like five minutes, I just have to add the finishing touch to my makeup.
After hitting send, you open Kakucho’s message on accident, it’s not like you could play it off either. You had read receipts on so he’d definitely know you were ignoring him.
Kakucho: hey, y/n. How’ve you been it’s been awhile since I’ve last seen you, are you busy later?
Y/n: hey, Kaku!!! I’ve been well, just been busy with school, you know! All these assignments been kicking my ass, unfortunately I’m getting ready for bed. I’m super tired lol, if I don’t respond it’s because I fell asleep.
Not even five minutes later you received a reply from him saying “goodnight” with a few heart emojis. Well that’s one way to get him off your ass, you should feel bad you think to yourself. However you don’t, how would he know you’re not actually going to bed, exactly he wouldn’t.
Kakucho sighed after he sent you a goodnight text, currently he was sitting in the VIP section in the new nightclub the Haitani brothers decided to open, honestly who’s idea was it to have a meeting here, of all places? Oh yea, it was Sanzu’s, Kakucho’s let his eyes land on the pinkette who was currently doing lines of coke off the table in front of them then to Mikey who had stopped talking awhile ago and was now currently staring off into space. Great, he thought to himself shaking his head. The Haitani brothers have long lost interest in the current situation in front of them, Ran was more focused on the young woman on his lap. While Rindou, Takeomi, Koko, and Mochi decided to head off below to the bar.
When you arrived at the club you wasted no time scanning the area for your newest object of fun as your eyes searched around from the bar to the dance floor, there he was amongst the sea of bodies. A man who looked closer to your age with black hair styled in an undercut standing off to the side, wasting no time you made your way over to him, ditching your friend in the process. After approaching him you invited him over to the bar area for some drinks. One thing lead to another now here you were on the lap of some stranger you didn’t even bother to get his name engaged in a heated make out session while you grind upon the ever apparent bulge in between his legs.
Kakucho made his way down to the bar in search at least one other executive however as soon as he turned his head in that direction his eyes landed on you, to say he was mad was an understatement he was furiously. Not only had you lied to him, but here you were acting like a bitch in heat with some man you probably didn’t even know. Instead of making his way over towards you to raise hell, he decided to sit at the corner of the bar and watch you intently, he watched you remove yourself from the man and sit on the bar next to him while the man got up and made his way out of the area.
Now here you were, tipsy and annoyed that the man had left you because he had “urgent business” to attend to. You call the bartender over for another drink, and before you can order what you want he slides you a drink and walks away but not before saying that the drink was paid for by another customer. The more you drank, the more you could feel yourself getting dizzy and woozy, until finally everything went black and you passed out.
When you finally wake up, you feel sick, not even being able to recall the events prior to. However you try to get up and realize you can’t, your arms and legs are tied to the bed you currently reside on, you turn your head to try and take in your surroundings, this isn’t your room, this isn’t even your home you’re in. Pictures of you scatter the walls around you and you begin to panic, crying and screaming for help when suddenly the door opens and Kakucho walks through. “Where am I, Kakucho what’s going on? I’m scared, I want to go home.” You cry out as you continue to struggle against your restraints. “You are home.” He replied, “I’ve decided that I’m going to fix you.” “Fix me?” You replied voice shaking. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re broken, that’s why you’ve been acting the way you do. Don’t worry, I’ll fix you and turn you back into the angel you once were.” He replied. Even now Kakucho refuses to believe that you’re solely to blame for the promiscuous acts you displayed at the bar. Deep down he knows with a little training you’ll be his angel again in no time. As he makes his way towards the bed, you couldn’t help but flinch a little bit out of fear for what was going to happen next. Deep down something in your bones told you, this isn’t going to end well.
#kakucho hitto#kakucho x y/n#yandere tokyo revengers#yandere Tokyo rev#Tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#bonten
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One Step at a Time - Part 4
Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: As always, thank you to the absolutely wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me! ICYMI, TJ just started posting her own Wolffe x OFC multi-chapter fic titled “Pieces”, so if you haven’t already, I HIGHLY encourage you to go check it out! I’ve had the privilege of reading it as her beta-reader, and I ADORE it.
Chapter Rating: T
Warnings: canon-typical violence
Word Count: 7.3k words
“YOU THERE! STOP.”
Chuck’s heart fell as he froze, breathing heavily as he held Nita closer to him. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest as her fingers dug into the neck of his undersuit, her tiny body quivering with fear.
Not again. Please not again.
He turned back slowly, his grip tightening on the blaster at his side, trying to quell the shaking in his hands. Two troopers in magenta and grey armor were approaching him and the younglings, blasters aimed at them.
“Please let us pass,” he begged. “You know this isn’t right. Deep down, I know you do. We don’t kill kids. We don’t do this.”
“They’re traitors to the Republic and are to be executed.”
“Please.”
“Put the youngling down.”
“Nita, close your eyes honey, ok?”
“Are you not going to comply?” the trooper demanded.
“Arni, stay behind me.”
Chuckles looked down at the DC-17 in his hand. It was on the lethal setting. He clicked it. The red indicator didn’t change. He clicked it again. Still no change.
“PUT THE YOUNGLING DOWN.” The first trooper stepped forward, and Chuck’s heart fell as he whipped his blaster forward, shooting the clone in the chest. Before he could think, he whirled and shot the other trooper, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he sobbed, watching his other brother fall.
Suddenly, he realized his left arm was empty. Nita was gone. He spun, and Arni wasn’t there anymore either. In fact, he couldn’t identify where he was. Darkness and cold surrounded him, the only source of light shining down on the bodies of the two troopers lying on the ground in front of him. He looked closer at the bodies, and his breath stuttered as he noted the grey lines that cut through the magenta paint over one of the helmet’s eyes.
It’s a pilot. It wasn’t a pilot. It… it can’t be. He was already dead.
He dropped to his knees, pulling the bucket off.
Crater stared up at him, his eyes wide, unseeing, the notches in his eyebrow that matched the stripes on his helmet unmistakable. Chuckles fell forward, resting his head on his captain’s chest plate.
“I’m sorry, Crate,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Chuckles!” His eyes snapped open, his fingers locking around the thin blue arm that was shaking him awake. Arni’s brown eyes widened with alarm, but they didn’t pull away as Chuckles sat up quickly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The birthmark on the young Twi’lek’s cheek twitched with an anxious swallow.
“What is it?” Chuck mumbled, clawing his way free of the sleepy haze that was still fogging his brain.
“Nita’s gone.”
Chuckles was immediately awake, flying to a seated position. “WHAT?”
Arni held their finger to their lips, their eyes darting around the room to where the other refugees were sleeping. No one seemed disturbed by Chuck’s outburst, but the clone pilot could hardly be bothered to care who he’d awoken. He swung his feet over the edge of the cot he was sleeping on, pulling his scarf back up to cover his face. The monks of the temple had set up the temple’s main atrium for housing the refugees with tables for food and cots for sleeping along a few of the walls. Chuckles had chosen to take one of the back corners, picking a cot that allowed him to sleep facing a wall so that he could pull his scarf down to sleep without fear of being recognized. The two younglings had opted to sleep in two cots that he’d pulled closer to his, but now, he could see Nita’s cot was empty, her trooper doll the only remaining occupant. His eyes scanned the snoring forms of the refugees around them frantically. He didn’t see Nita’s figure anywhere, and he swore under his breath.
“You see which way she went?” he whispered urgently.
“I thought I saw someone go downstairs, but I was half-awake before I realized it was her.”
Chuckles nodded, looking around again. The set of stairs at the end of the corridor had been designated as off-limits by the monks due to the holy artifacts that they supposedly housed below, but knowing that Nita probably had wandered down there made his decision to disregard the direction all too easy.
“Alright, I’ll go find her. You stay here.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
“Arni-“
“I’m coming with you.” The Twi'lek's jaw was set with a stubborn determination that Chuckles was quickly beginning to realize meant that there was no room for argument. He sighed.
“Alright, but stay close. We’ve got to get in and out of here without getting caught. I don’t want to get kicked out of here by the monks after all they’ve done for us.”
Arni nodded before leading him silently between the sleeping refugees. At the top of the stairs, they looked down into the depths. They could see the base of the stairs and a dim, eerie glow whose source was out of view.
Dammit, why’d she have to go into the creepy temple basement? Why not out in the gardens or somewhere pleasant?
Chuckles sighed again before quietly beginning his descent with Arni close behind. They stuck close to the walls, peering around corners as they made their way deeper into the temple’s depths. The glow was getting brighter, seeming to emanate from the end of the corridor they were creeping down. The air also seemed to be getting cooler, and Chuckles noted his breath now hung in front of him in a light mist. He strained his ears but could hear no sign of Nita. When they reached the end of the hall, the clone pilot pressed Arni and himself up against the wall before sticking his head through the carved stone archway to see what he could see. He let out an audible gasp as he took in the room in front of him.
The corridor emptied into a cavern with a ceiling at least ten meters high. Lamps producing the eerie greenish white light they’d seen in the corridor were placed around the cavern walls, reflecting off carved stonework and massive crystals that were growing from the floor and walls.
“The kriff is this place?” he murmured under his breath.
Arni leaned out, their jaw falling open slightly as they took in the cavern. “It’s…they’re growing kyber.”
Chuckles’s head snapped down to look at them. “The stuff that goes in your lightsabers?”
Arni nodded, their eyes darting around the cavern. “I’ve never seen so much before.”
A faint giggle reached Chuckles’s ears and he looked down at Arni to see if they’d heard it too. The young Twi’lek nodded in confirmation.
Of course she’s in the place with all of the big shiny objects.
“Alright, let’s go get our girl.” The two of them cautiously stepped into the cavern, their boots echoing against the stone. The floor of the cavern appeared to be cut from the existing stone, smoothed and polished to a dull, even shine, and as Chuckles took in more details, he realized some of the crystals had been carved into massive pillars, and in some cases, statues. The lamps along the wall bounced off of and through the kyber crystals, sending shimmering sparks of light dancing and flickering across the stone. Water dripped from the ceiling, pooling in certain areas, the drips the only other sound beside their echoing footsteps as they stepped through the cavern.
The two of them made it through the first chamber into a second where the crystals seemed more sparse and in earlier stages of their growth. Another giggle from Nita spurred them on, weaving through a few cavern hallways until they came into a small chamber with more small crystals growing from the rocky walls. Nita was crouched in a corner, speaking quietly, although they couldn’t hear what she was saying. Chuckles felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his fingers flexed nervously at his sides.
“Nita,” he hissed, pulling down the scarf covering his face. She turned, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. Chuckles closed the gap between them, scooping her back to her feet and checking her over before kneeling down, resting his hands on her shoulders. “What are you doing, honey? We’re not supposed to be down here. Didn’t you hear Chirrut’s friends?”
Nita’s face fell slightly. “I’m sorry. The sound was just so pretty. Don’t you think so?”
Chuckles stared at her blankly. “Honey, I don’t hear anything.”
Nita’s brows furrowed in frustration. “Really? It’s right there.” She turned and pointed at a small crystal the size of her thumb poking out of the wall. “You can’t hear that?” she asked quietly. Chuckles shook his head, turning to Arni, whose eyes were wide.
“You know what she’s talking about?” he asked.
Arni nodded, opening their mouth to explain, but before they could utter a single word, the sound of a walking stick clacking against stone made them all jump. “The kyber is calling to her,” Chirrut said, rounding the corner and entering the small cavern, his hand resting against the wall as he came up behind Arni.
Chuckles’s mind raced as he launched into an apology. “Chirrut, I’m so sorry. She wandered off and-”
The monk raised a hand to silence him, smiling. “It’s quite alright. I’ve never been present to witness a kyber song. I should be thanking you.”
“I still don’t understand,” Chuckles said, his confusion deepening.
“Only she can hear it singing,” Arni whispered. “Wh-when we…” they cast a hesitant look at Chirrut, who bowed his head.
“I know what you and Nita are, young one, and your secret is safe with me. Tell Chuckles what it means.”
Arni nodded, wetting their lips apprehensively. “When we’re getting ready to become padawans, we’re taken to Illum to search for our kyber crystals that will go in our lightsabers. We find them because we can hear them ‘singing’ to us, but only one person can hear their kyber crystal. Th-they don’t sound the same for everyone. It… it took me a few hours to find mine.” They turned to look at Chirrut. “But why would it be here? Why not on Illum? And isn’t she too young?”
Chirrut smiled. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Arni. I imagine Nita’s crystal would have found its way to her regardless of when she came searching for it.” He strode forward, crouching down by the small crystal in the wall that Nita had pointed at. “Come here, Nita,” he said gently. She stood next to him as he took out a small tool from a pocket. He felt along the wall until his fingers grazed the crystal. Chirrut turned, reaching back for Nita, and she allowed him to take her hand without hesitation. The monk positioned her hand so that she was gripping the crystal. “This is the one, yes?” Nita mumbled a quiet affirmative. “Very good. Tug on it while I chip away.” The monk delicately began scraping at the rock and dirt around the kyber crystal, and after a few moments, Nita was able to pry it loose, holding it in her palm with a reverence Chuckles had never seen from her. He couldn’t tell if his mind was playing tricks on him or not, but it almost seemed as if the crystal was emanating its own soft light, almost pulsating in the tiny Pantoran’s palms.
“It’s warm,” she said softly. “What do I do with it now?”
Chirrut chuckled, cupping his hands around hers to close her hands around the crystal. “Keep it safe for now, young one. I do not think now is the time to be building lightsabers, for several reasons. But when the time comes, I have a feeling Arni will be more than happy to teach you how to construct your blade.” He turned to Arni for confirmation, and the young Twi’lek nodded silently in agreement.
Nita walked over to Arni. “Can you keep it in a pouch for me so I don’t lose it? Until I’m ready?”
Arni’s eyes widened, but they held out their palm for the crystal, which Nita gave without any reservations. “I’ll guard it with my life,” Arni said quietly. Lifting their poncho, they tucked it in a pouch at their belt, ensuring to fasten it shut again.
“Chirrut,” Chuckles said gently. “You told us these lower levels stored holy artifacts, and I’m assuming that the kyber falls under that label. We can’t take this.”
The monk smiled at him, his milky irises shining in the cavern’s light. “As I said earlier, I’m not certain how long the Empire will allow us to keep up the operation of this temple. If I had it my way, all of this kyber would go to those with Nita’s abilities before I’d let it fall into the Empire’s hands. Unfortunately, I may not have much of a choice when the time comes. So let’s just say this is you, Arni, and Nita doing the Guardians of the Whills a favor by preserving some of our traditions and holy artifacts.” He rested a hand on Chuckles’s shoulder. “Now, it’s the middle of the night and Baze likes to wake with the sun, so I suggest you all head back upstairs and get some rest before he comes barreling down to take you to the market tomorrow.”
Chuckles looked down at the two children. Nita’s eyelids were already starting to droop now that the excitement was over, and Arni was in the process of trying to stifle a yawn. Bending down, he scooped up the small Pantoran, who nuzzled against his shoulder. He nodded at Chirrut, who gestured for him to lead the way back out of the caverns. They didn’t even make it back to the stairs before Nita was quietly snoring against Chuckles’s shoulder.
---
The next morning, Chuckles was in the process of ensuring the two children had eaten breakfast and gathered the few items they’d brought with them ready to go when Baze approached him.
“Mornin’,” he said, trying to be friendly.
Baze grunted in acknowledgement. “Chirrut has asked to see you before we go to market. To get you the items you requested yesterday.” It was clear the monk was not pleased at the risk his counterpart was taking, but also, he was obviously not going to try and stop him. Chuckles nodded.
“Where’s your armor?” Nita asked Baze, clutching her trooper doll to her chest.
“I take it off when I’m in the temple,” he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“Ah. That makes sense,” Nita concurred, nodding her head in agreement. Arni had already done her hair again, and her ribbons shook with the bob of her head. Before anyone could stop her, Nita slipped her hand into Baze’s, starting to head down the hall in the direction he’d come. Baze’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he allowed the little girl to lead him by the hand. Arni looked at Chuckles, who shrugged before following after them.
Nita eventually allowed Baze to take the lead, and the monk guided them through several corridors until they reached a small room with humble furnishings. Two bunks were tucked in the corner, and the entire room smelled of wood polish and blaster cleaner. A small plant sat near the window, delicate white blossoms with a pink hue at the tips of their petals unfurling in the morning light. Chuckles shuddered slightly at the sight of the petals, remembering the one that had fluttered into his palm at the Jedi temple just before Order 66 had been issued. The others didn’t appear to notice his discomfort.
Chirrut was sitting at a simple wooden desk that was pushed against one wall, fiddling with a disk scanner. Baze sighed, stepping forward and taking it from his hands.
“Give me that. You’ll corrupt them, and we don’t exactly have an endless supply of these.”
Chirrut glowered indignantly. “You know, I’ve never corrupted one before,” he retorted, wagging a finger against the accusation.
“You’ve only done this once,” Baze reminded him.
“Still. A perfect record.”
The larger monk gave a neutral grunt before going back to his work on the datapad, picking up where Chirrut had left off. “I’ll need a surname for this.”
Chuckles looked at him blankly. “I… we don’t have one.”
“Well, you’d better come up with one.”
Chirrut sighed. “What my colleague means is that having a single surname would make it easier to pass through security checkpoints without being stopped. If you’re traveling as a family with the same name, it’s unlikely you’ll be separated. In all of your cultures, it's customary to have a surname, so not having one may raise eyebrows.”
Chuckles smirked. “I don’t exactly have a culture.”
Chirrut turned to him, giving him a small smile. “I would disagree, but also, you’re trying not to look like a clone. A surname will add another layer to that disguise. Now, what do you wish your family to be called?”
Chuckles let out a low whistle. “Never thought about it.” He turned to Arni. “What do you think, kid?”
Arni shrugged. “Technically, my family name is Grinata, but I don’t really like it.”
Chuckles turned to Nita. “What about you, Nita?”
Nita tapped on her lips with a finger as she thought. “Mine is Kiili, but I don’t mind changing it either.”
“We probably need totally new names,” Arni said quietly. “Our full names were definitely in the temple archives. If they’re looking for us, they’ll have those.”
Chuckles nodded. “Well, what do we want to go by?”
Arni wrinkled their nose as they thought, but Nita immediately had an idea and didn’t hesitate to voice it. “STAR!” she shouted gleefully.
Chuck grinned. “I think we’ll have to come up with something a little more original than that, honey.”
“But you have stars on your helmet!” the tiny Pantoran objected, a slight pout overtaking her features.
“And you did say they were for your brothers. Your family,” Arni said softly. Chuckles looked at them, thinking for a moment before an idea floated to the front of his mind.
“Arni, do you know the Twi’lek word for ‘star’?” he asked.
The youngling paused for a moment before nodding. “It’s ayy,” they replied, falling into their homeworld accent easily.
Chuckles repeated the word, his pronunciation clumsy as he tried to imitate the way Arni had said it. Simple enough I suppose. “What about you, Nita. Do you know any Pantoran words?”
The little girl shook her head, her face falling slightly. “We mostly speak Basic.”
“I know a few,” Arni offered shyly. “I know the words for ‘light’ and ‘sky’ and a few others.”
“Starlight has been the guide for generations of explorers,” Chirrut offered. “And it seems the stars guided you all to each other. What is the Pantoran word for ‘light’, Arni?”
“Shu.”
Chuckles nodded, combining the two words. “Ayyshu. Starlight. My stars, and both of your languages. What do you both think?”
“It sounds like a sneeze,” Nita commented.
Chuckles tipped his head back and laughed. “You’re not wrong.”
“I like it,” Arni said hesitantly. “I like… that it has a little of all three of us.”
Nita’s face grew serious at Arni’s comment, and she nodded decisively. “If Arni likes it, then I like it too.”
Chuckles felt Chirrut and Baze’s eyes on him as the weight of the moment struck him. He tried to keep his face neutral. A new family. A new name. Who’d have thought? He looked at the two younglings watching him expectantly, awaiting his approval. I’m their pilot, he thought, Chirrut’s words echoing in his mind. He grinned. “Alright, it’s settled then. From here on out, we’re going by the name Ayyshu. Easy enough to spell, and I’m always good with that.” He glanced over at Baze. “Got all that?”
Baze looked up at him through his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as he punched away on the datapad.
Tough crowd, Chuckles mused internally. A few moments later, Baze’s datapad beeped, and he removed the three small disks he had slotted into a receptacle connected to his device. “All done. Here you are, Ayyshu family. Do not lose these.” Chuckles took them from him, starting to tuck them away in his pouch before pausing and handing them off to Arni.
“You’re the responsible one.”
Arni gave him half a smirk before tucking the chain codes into the same pouch as Nita’s kyber crystal, carefully fastening it shut again. Chirrut stood.
“Alright. To the market then.”
“Will you come with us?” Nita asked.
Chirrut smiled down at her, placing his hand on her head carefully so as not to disturb her buns. “No, this is where we part ways, I’m afraid. I’ve got to stay here and help the other refugees get settled or get on to their next destination. But never fear; Baze is an excellent shopper.” The larger monk rolled his eyes as he began digging in a carved chest in the corner of the room, removing his armor and weapon and beginning to gear up.
Nita’s face fell slightly. “Will we see you again?”
“I certainly hope so,” the blind monk replied, smiling at her. “But until we meet again, make sure you take care of your friend and your pilot.” His milky irises flicked up to stare at Chuckles. “Take care of one another.”
Chuckles stepped forward, extending his arm, allowing his fingertips to brush Chirrut’s arm. The monk took the cue, wrapping his fingers around Chuck’s forearm in farewell.
“I can’t ever thank you enough for the kindness and the help you all have given us,” Chuck said softly. “We’d have been lost without you.”
Chirrut smiled. “I have faith you would have found your way eventually. However, I was more than happy to help speed the process along.” His face softened. “May the Force be with all of you.”
The two younglings bowed their heads slightly, and Chuckles mirrored them before releasing Chirrut. Baze clicked his last armor clasp into place, reaching for his weapon.
“We should get going. There are fewer patrols early in the morning. Easier to get in and get out quickly.” With that, he turned, striding out the door. Nita and Arni fell into step behind him with Chuckles bringing up the rear. As he stepped through the doorway, he paused, casting one more look over his shoulder at Chirrut. The blind monk smiled.
“The Force is with you as much as it is them, Chuckles. Trust yourself. And take care of them.”
“I will.”
With that, he stepped into the dim corridor, jogging to catch up with Baze and the two younglings.
---
The market was bustling in the crisp morning air as the four of them wove their way through the various stalls. Arni walked close with Baze, constantly peppering him with questions about the different aspects of his weapon, which he answered patiently. Nita and Chuckles followed behind at a somewhat slower pace until Chuckles finally pulled Nita onto his back, her arms wrapping around his neck as he tucked his arms under her legs. They moved quickly from stall to stall, choosing food and other supplies such as tools, soap, and even some additional clothes. Baze paid every time, even buying Nita and Arni a piece of candy each when he noted Nita eyeing a piece of toffee at one of the stalls. After a little over an hour, they were loaded up and ready to depart. Arni carried the supplies with Baze while Chuckles carried Nita on his back, bouncing her playfully while she giggled, her silver ribbons bobbing with every step. As they reached the edge of town, Chuckles noted Baze’s expression becoming more wary, his eyes scanning the area. When his gaze settled on their ship, he raised an eyebrow.
“That’s your ship?”
“We didn’t exactly have time to window shop,” Chuckles retorted, setting Nita down. “You kids take this stuff inside and get it organized, alright?”
The two younglings nodded, Nita taking the one of the packages Baze was carrying and tottering along behind Arni up the ramp and through the ship’s hatch. Chuckles took the last package from the monk, standing awkwardly for a few moments before he shifted the supplies to one arm and extended a hand to Baze.
“I know you don’t really like me, but I want you to know how very much I appreciate what you and the other Guardians did for us. It means a lot.”
Baze raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know you, Chuckles, so I cannot dislike you. I can’t deny that it’s difficult to look into the face that killed innocents. But, I know that you walk a different path than your brothers.”
“You hear about the chips?” Chuckles asked. “That the clones didn’t have a choice in the matter?”
“You made a choice.”
“Yeah, but I think my chip malfunctioned. One too many hits to the head or something.”
Baze’s eyes pierced Chuckles, and it felt to the clone as if he was being weighed and measured to an unknown standard. “There are many unknowns at the moment,” Baze stated noncommittally. “What I do know is that you have a massive responsibility resting on your shoulders now. Taking care of children is hard enough as it is, but taking care of two Jedi younglings? That’s going to be a very difficult task, particularly with the current state of the galaxy.”
Chuckles jutted his chin out defiantly. “I’m up to it.”
Baze stared at him. “We’ll see.” He reached into his hip pocket, digging around until he found a pouch, which he tossed to Chuck. “A final gift from the Guardians. May it help with your journey ahead.” Chuckles opened the sack to find what he estimated to be several hundred credits emblazoned with a cog-like symbol that somewhat resembled the Republic crest emblazoned across the chest of his black undersuit. “They’re Imperial,” Baze stated, seemingly noting his confusion. “They should be good all across the galaxy.”
“This is too much, Baze. We can’t take all this.”
“You think I’m going to let you give it back?”
I’m certainly not about to pick a fight with this guy.
“No. But what about the other refugees?”
“They’ll have an easier time earning them. You and the two younglings must stay hidden until you come up with a plan. Once the dust settles, you may be able to earn your own, but until then, that will hopefully help keep you and them fed and fueled.” He shifted onto the balls of his feet. “Take care of them. Keep them safe.”
Chuckles swallowed hard, meeting the large monk’s piercing gaze. “I will.”
Baze nodded. “Outer Rim worlds are supposed to be a little safer from everything we’re hearing. Stay off the beaten path. Find a world where resources are limited. The Empire will have little interest in places like that.” He sighed, and for a moment, he looked more like a weary soldier than a monk. Chuck knew that look all too well; many of his brothers had worn it. “Chirrut seems to think the Empire will allow us to continue growing kyber, but I’m certain they’ll come for it eventually. We will be plundered to feed the machine one day,” Baze said quietly. His gaze grew distant, somewhat pained. “I suspect the days of the Guardians of the Whills are numbered.”
Chuckles shifted on his feet, searching for the right words. “I hope that day won’t come.”
Baze’s eyes found his, and some of the fire reignited in his irises. “Whatever the Force wills, we will adapt.” He stepped past Chuckles, clapping him roughly on the shoulder. “May the Force be with you, pilot.”
Chuckles gripped his wrist, stopping the monk in his tracks. He worried for a moment that Baze was going to slug him. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Thank you again. Seriously.”
Baze grunted, slipping from Chuckles’s grasp and continuing on his way. Chuckles watched his back recede into the distance for a few moments before turning and striding into the ship. Arni was halfway through putting the supplies away already as Chuckles set the last crate down, but Nita was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s the little one?” Chuck asked, striding to the pilot seat and starting pre-flight.
“In back putting some of the food in the kitchenette,” Arni replied. “Although I’m pretty sure I heard one of the snack bags rip open a few minutes ago.”
Chuckles grinned as the ship’s hatch closed and the engines sputtered to life. “She knows how to prioritize.” Carefully, he lifted the ship into the air.
Damn thing still feels like a bantha trying to do a Toydarian impression.
“Where are we headed?” Arni asked, moving one of the empty crates off to the side to be dealt with later and opening a new one to begin emptying.
“Back to the nebula to plot our next move. Baze recommended we choose an Outer Rim world, so I want you two to help me pick where we try to set up shop on a more permanent basis.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Might be. We’ll play it by ear. But I don’t think we can just keep hiding out in space forever. Need to find a place where I can find work and keep you both fed. Especially with the rate Nita’s going through food back there.” The grey of Jedha’s atmosphere faded to the black of space as Chuckles leaned over to program the coordinates for the nebula into the hyperdrive computer. A few minutes later, he punched the confirmation button, and the ship leapt into hyperspace. Spinning the pilot’s chair, he watched Arni for a few moments before heaving a deep sigh. Something had been weighing on him, and he’d been pondering how to bring this up with Arni the last few nights and still hadn’t come up with a good way to do it, so he figured he’d just press forward.
Better to fumble a bit and know than to be unintentionally hurting the kid. Just be honest. This is important to get right.
“Arni, I need to ask you something.” The young Twi’lek paused, looking up at him.
“Yes?”
Chuckles rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I… ever since I met you, I’ve been referring to you by ‘they’, because I never did figure out how you identify.”
Arni nodded at him, their face not betraying anything or giving him an idea of where to go next. Chuckles felt his apprehension grow.
“Is… is that correct? For you? I haven’t met many Twi’leks in my life, so I’m not sure how that goes culturally. I’ve… you always wear the cap, so I’ve never been able to tell if you’ve got…” He tapped his ears, figuring non-verbal communication made it less likely for him to screw up the terminology. Arni chewed on the inside of their cheek, the muscles underneath their tan birthmark twitching for a few seconds before they nodded as Chuckles continued. “And I know that doesn’t necessarily point me in the right direction either, since anatomy doesn’t always match with how you identify, but I just…” He sighed, feeling like he was flailing. I’m certain I’m screwing this up royally. “I… I just want to make sure I’m doing right by you, kid. You’re not necessarily the type to correct me if I’ve got it wrong when it comes to things about you. Technical stuff, sure, you’ll tell me I’m an idiot, but this is different. In fact, I suspect you’d endure me getting it wrong until the day I die, but that’s not alright with me. So, I just want to make sure I’m… honoring who you are. That’s important to me.”
Arni stared at him for a moment, clearly deep in thought before their tongue darted out to wet their lips. They took a deep breath. “You’ve had it correct. But to be honest, I’m fine with anything. I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m one or the other really, if that makes sense, but nothing feels wrong necessarily. I’m just… me.”
Chuckles nodded. For reasons he couldn’t explain, it did make sense. Arni was just Arni, and in his opinion, Arni was pretty great. “Alright kid. I’ll stick to what I’ve been doing then, but if anything with you ever changes to where you feel a particular way about who you are, you let me know so that I can adjust accordingly, ok?”
Arni gave him a small smile. “Ok.”
“Ok then.”
Chuckles watched the young Twi’lek for another few moments as they finished unloading the crate. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but some of the tension that the youngling seemed to always carry in their shoulders appeared to have vanished, as if having that understanding and acceptance had taken a burden from them. Maybe they were worried about it too. That I wouldn’t care enough to ask or make sure I’m getting it right.
Arni set the now empty crate aside, climbing into the bunk that they and Nita shared. Chuck watched as they carefully pried a panel loose in the back corner just above the mattress. The clone pilot stood, crossing the hold of the ship to peer into the bunk. “Whatcha got there, kid?”
Arni looked up at him nervously. “A hiding spot. Is that ok?” They fidgeted with the panel in their hands as if they were worried Chuckles was going to scold them for pulling the ship apart. “There’s no wiring or anything in the compartment, and I thought I should hide… some things.” Looking past the Twi’lek, Chuckles could see the younglings’ Jedi robes folded and tucked into the space. A glint of metal caught his attention, and he realized Arni had also pushed their lightsaber in the gap to hide it. His heart fell a little.
Such an important part of each of them, and they have to hide it.
“You know, I think that’s really smart, Arni. It’s a good idea.”
The young Twi’lek nodded, a small smile of relief crossing their face. Reaching into the pouch at their waist, they withdrew Nita’s kyber crystal, wrapping it carefully in part of Nita’s silver Jedi tunic before replacing the panel and bolting it back in place.
Just then, Nita came around the corner, a bag of fried snacks in her hand. She paused at the sight of Chuckles, who raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re gonna ruin your dinner,” he teased.
“Nu uh.” She didn’t appear to feel the need to further her argument beyond that, continuing to crunch away.
“Alright, well then you’d better share with the rest of us,” Chuckles growled playfully, scooping her up and digging a hand into the bag before popping one of the snacks in his mouth. He readjusted his grip on the little Pantoran, tipping her over so the bag was aimed at Arni. “You too, kid.”
Arni smirked as they reached into the bag, helping themselves to one of the snacks.
—
A few hours later, they were back to being parked near the nebula. Chuckles had made some noodles for dinner with some of the fresh vegetables they’d picked up at the market in Jedha City. It hadn’t been an especially difficult meal to pull together, but he was proud of himself nonetheless.
Cooking definitely wasn’t a thing they taught us how to do on Kamino. Just something some of us kind of figured out on our own.
Fortunately for him, Crater and the rest of his squad had occasionally been able to round up enough supplies to pull together a meal that didn’t consist of ration bars. Being pilots afforded the 28th a bit more freedom at times, so when they had a long distance to fly, they’d normally stop over at a planet’s market or some place where they could grab real food, and every once in a while, they’d typically empty their stashes onto a table in the barracks and pull together a meager banquet to share amongst themselves. Those had been some of Chuck’s fondest memories, his brothers cackling as they struggled through instructions on packaging in various languages that none of them spoke. There had been experiments and disasters that came out inedible, but at the end of the day, there had been smiles and laughter. Those nights, it felt as if the war melted away if only for a moment as they passed bowls around the small metal table. He’d missed the camaraderie, and when Arni had leaned over to supervise and occasionally make suggestions while Nita snuck small bites here and there for “quality control,” he’d had to swallow the rising lump in his throat at the familiarity of it all.
Their pilot. My family.
Now, as he and Nita cleared away the dishes and stored the leftovers in the refrigeration unit, Arni pulled out their datapad and began poking through a list of potential planetary candidates for them to settle on, making suggestions periodically for Chuckles to weigh in on.
“Taul?”
“Isn’t that place acidic?”
“What about Klatooine?”
“You ever met a Klatooinian?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to. Trust me.”
And so it went for another half an hour. Eventually, Chuckles pulled out a holopad with a star map, placing it on the table so that they could cross reference Arni’s suggestions with planetary locations. They weighed different worlds based on their systems, their habitability, their proximity to hyperspace lanes, and other factors. Nita perched on the bench next to Arni, leaning on the table and watching intently, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she tried to follow Arni and Chuckles’s rapid exchange, offering opinions here and there when she felt she had a contribution to make.
“What about Akiva?” Arni asked.
“No go. That’s a Seppie planet. Plus, big bugs.”
Nita nodded decisively. “No big bugs. I don’t like them.”
Chuckles glanced at her, trying to stifle the giggle that was threatening to rip from him at Nita’s firm expression. “Right. Absolutely no big bugs then.”
Another half an hour dragged on before Arni sat up excitedly. “I’ve got it! What about Sorgan?”
Chuck scratched at the scruff that was starting to grow in along his jawline. He’d never grown his beard out before and it was starting to itch. He searched out the planet on the star map, tapping it to zoom in. “This place habitable?”
“The only habitable place in the system.”
“Population?”
“By all accounts, looks minimal,” Arni replied, poring through the information on their datapad. “No major settlements are logged. Not even minor ones really.”
Chuck hummed, ticking through the checklist in his head. “Any reason the Empire would be interested in this place?”
“Not unless they want to build something from the ground up. But no major natural resources are listed. A bit of agriculture maybe, but nothing super valuable. Climate seems pretty hospitable. Lots of green.”
Nita was leaning further on the table, her eyes shining as she spun the holo of the planet. “It’s pretty.”
Chuck felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he took in the two younglings. Arni was trying to remain neutral and unbiased, but he could see by the way the kid’s eyes were sparkling that they were just as excited as Nita at the prospect. He considered it for a few more moments.
If it’s green and has wildlife, there’s things I could hunt to feed us if bad comes to worse. That bit of agriculture Arni mentioned would help keep us fed too. If it’s a small enough settlement, they may still use a barter system rather than credits. I could maybe find work in one of the villages or smaller settlements.
He smiled.
“Alright. Sorgan it is. We’ll head out first thing after we sleep.”
Nita cheered, waving her hands in the air excitedly. Arni just smiled silently, clutching their datapad to their chest.
—
“Well, boys, I did it. Or, I’m doing it. We’ve got a place to go.” Chuckles wrapped the blanket further around himself as he leaned back in the pilot’s seat and rested his feet on the freighter’s control console, careful not to bump any important buttons. He had a mug half full of the mystery booze clutched in his hands, and he took another sip, exhaling sharply at the burn that bloomed into warmth in his chest. “If only you could all see me now, you’d hardly recognize me,” he teased the stars. “Especially you, Crate. You always said I couldn’t take care of a rusty bolt if it was tied around my neck, but now, I’m doing it. I’ve got the kids, we’ve got a plan. In spite of all of it, I think maybe we’ve got a chance.” He heard a rustle from behind him and cast a glance over his shoulder to ensure the bunk door was still closed.
Nita must just be rolling around again. That kid is a hell of a restless sleeper. Always seems to wake up half a klick from where she started.
He smiled into his cup as he took another sip. “You all would love them, you know. They’re… they’re special. Arni is a little genius, at times too smart for their own good. I’m still not entirely sure how old they are, but regardless, they’re advanced for their age. And Nita is just the sweetest, but Maker alive she’s going to be something to contend with when she gets older. She has no doubts about what she wants and is absolutely not afraid to tell you what she thinks. If the Jedi were still around, she’d have made the Council before she turned eighteen. Would have put the fear of the Maker into Rancisis and the like for sure.” He paused at the thought. What are they both going to look like in a few years? Will we still all be together? Will the Empire still be around? The thought sobered him. Never really stopped to consider how permanent this may be. Looking down, he swirled the amber liquid in his cup, watching the liquid waver in the dim lights of the cockpit.
“I’m not sure if everything I’m doing is right,” he admitted quietly to the stars. “But I’m doing my best. And I think that’s all I can do.” He sighed deeply. “Whatever it takes. For as long as it takes. I’ll keep them safe.”
Baze will hunt me down if I don’t. And honestly, Chirrut might too.
He grinned into his cup again. Crater’s star seemed to twinkle a little brighter for a moment from its spot in the upper right portion of the nebula, right in the middle of one of the brighter clumps of magenta gas clouds. Chuck raised his cup to it in a silent toast.
“One step at a time, right Crate? That’s how we’ll take it. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll make it out of this alright.”
Finishing his drink, Chuck set the cup down next to him. His eyes flicked to the DC-17 in its holster, but tonight, he left it untouched. He wrapped the blanket around himself a little more and soon drifted off.
For the first time since Order 66, he didn’t dream of death and fear. Instead, he dreamt of a teenage Pantoran girl with large golden eyes and her older, taller Twi’lek sibling sitting in a sunny forest and laughing with one another. Their bare feet were covered in dirt and their toes wiggled in green grass that fluttered in the breeze. The Pantoran turned to him, her eyes finding his before she called his name, beckoning him to come sit with them as her long, silver hair fluttered around her. He felt himself smile before he stepped into the sunlight, the ground warm beneath his feet.
Alone in the cockpit, Chuckles smiled in his sleep.
Tag List: @seriowan @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @moonstrider9904 @partoftheeternalsoul @zoeykallus
#karrde writes#one step at a time#osaat#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#Chuckles#OC Chuckles#Arni#OC Arni#Nita#OC Nita#CT 4311#Clone Trooper OC#Clone OC#Jedi OC#Pantoran OC#Twilek OC#found family#fluff#angst#post order 66
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BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant
Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.
Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬、¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.
OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD
you named your car??
you named it Hercules??
I love you so much??
please marry me you giant fucking dork???
lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks
who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do
like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment
“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might
OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES
[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it
and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you
omg they didn’t know it was All Might??
okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???
(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)
OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES
PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE
omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded
so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now
OH MY GOD
LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING
(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)
and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this
who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it
man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading
ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!
omggggggg

ouch
update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in
wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku
oh lol did he realize she could fly??
BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest
so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku
so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help
oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks
OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man
damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)
well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun
anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong
(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)
OH SNAP???


AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER
(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:
1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.
2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.
3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).
4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.
5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.
6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.
anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).
basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.
anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)
anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime
OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit
what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape
update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy
anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them
OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU
LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH
DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned
LOL YOU MANIAC
I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg
well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??
(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)
anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while
anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao
#bnha 313#midoriya izuku#lady nagant#bnha meta#deku meta#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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Knight In Shining Armor
Request: Can you do murphy/reader set after the hanging? You can decide if he gets banished or not but hurt/comfort please? Maybe they run away together or reader yells at Bellamy or something? (I know you said to wait but we all know I have no self control at this point, oops. Love ya, good luck!) ~ @ultimatereyesstan
A/N: AH! Thank you for this request! I had so much fun with it! I love comfort fics!
Setting: post-hanging.
Warnings: Hanging, Blood, Wounds, uh... Please tell me if anything else?
Word Count: 1,910
~~~
Murphy was scared. You know this, while everyone thinks he's angry and violent and that's all there is to him, you know that's wrong. You know that the anger, the hate, the everything is a facade. A mask he slips on every morning because he feels that if he shows the real him, he'll get hurt.
You know it's fake, you've seen him in his soft moments. You saw him take care of his mother at late hours of the night when she couldn't take care of herself. You saw him sobbing after his mothers death, no matter how much before then he said he wouldn't care if she died. You've seen him in the late hours of the night when he would cry about how horrible the Ark was, and how bad he felt for the people who suffered at the hands of the chancellor and his goons.
So, you know that when he gets up after being hung, this is yet another facade. A disguise to hide his pain and hide his fear. You walk up to him as he yells at Bellamy, his body tight with anger. You put your hand on his arm and softly pull at it, gaining his attention.
"Don't do this. Don't do something you'll regret." You say, and Murphy looks at you for a minute, seeming to think listen. "How does this end Murphy? What? You think you can go and get revenge and it'll turn out alright? How did you getting revenge last time turn out? With you in a locked cell. And now what happens when there's no cells." You continue and you see him thinking.
"Y/N I-" Murphy says and you can see his anger fading already.
"No. You need to stop. You think this is going to do anything other than hurt you more? I know you've got to be in pain, probably a nasty headache." You say, and you see hsi breathing become more shallow. He nods softly and you sigh. "Bellamy, go take Charlotte somewhere, she killed someone, she can;t just get away with it."
"What makes you think you can tell me what to do?" He demands, and you step up to him.
"Because I actually have a brain. Unlike you who just hung an innocent boy because you didn't think." You say, and step back again, grabbing Murphy's hand, and throwing his arm around your shoulders, helping him to the dropship. You help him to the hammock, and by now his energy is gone, all of the adrenaline that was coursing through him has dropped. He looks up at you with pain on his face and you frown.
“No, there’s no room here.” He mumbles, his words barely making it out. You look at him puzzled, and when he moves to get up and you softly push him back down.
“John, what’s going on? No room for what?” You ask. He frowns harder, and you suppress a smile and how adorable he looks. He always tries to look intimidating, but to you he has always been adorable. Someone who could never hurt you.
“You.” He whimpers, closing his eyes, probably from his headache. You smile softly and move his hair from his face.
“Okay, then do you want me to move you to the floor? On the blankets?” You ask and he nods softly, making sure not to hurt his head more. His head must be pounding, you used to help Abby in the med-bay before getting in trouble, there you learned a lot of stuff about medical things, especially injuries. Hanging, which cuts off the blood flow, usually causes intense headaches if the person doesn’t die from it. You know it most hurt right now, that plus the pain on other parts of his body, would be overwhelming. You softly grab his arm again, and help him to sit up.
“Ow.” He whimpers and you wince. “Hurts.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” You say, helping him off of the hammock. You help him over to a pile of blankets on the ground. “Alright, I’m going to help you down now, okay?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. You softly help him down and once he’s laying down, you see his muscles relax. You kneel down next to him, and gingerly cup his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you.
“It’s darker down here.” He says, and you nod. “It’s better. Doesn’t hurt.” He says. You smile and softly move his hair out of his face.
“I’m glad.” You say, your fingers running through his hair. “I’m going to get the bucket of water and cloth from over there, and bring it over to wash you up, okay?” You ask and he nods this time. You walk away to grab the bucket and he tries to watch you but he can’t move much. You grab the bucket and walk back.
“First, your amazing face.” You state, bringing the wet cloth up and washing his face. He smiles softly, before letting his eyes close and letting you do what you need to do. He trusts you with his life, and he will continue to trust you for a long time. He shakily brings his hand forward to rest it on your knee so he can feel you here with him. “You know, as much as revenge sounds fun, I’m happy I could stop you.” You say, now cleaning a wound. He mumbles something and you pull back enough to listen.
“Y- you didn’t do shit.” He pauses to chuckle. “I did that on my own.”
“Oh really? So you're telling me you gave up on your own?” You ask looking down a thim with a smile.
Murphy nods and smiles, “Yup.” He says, and then when he doesn’t talk anymore you bring the cloth down to his lips and wipe them clean of the mud staining them. You then softly move on to his neck. When you first put the cloth to him he flinches back, and you pull away, not wanting to scare him.
“Murphy, I’m not going to hurt you. But it looks like you’re bleeding, and you’ve got mud near it too, I need to wash it so you don’t get infected. That would be a horrible spot to get an infection.” You say softly, and he looks up at you. He opens his mouth to say something before he shakes his head and licks his lips. “What is it?” You ask.
He sighs softly, his breath shuddering. “Just… Be careful with me, okay? Please.” He asks, and you smile.
“Of course.” You say, and you let him relax again before softly washing his neck. Murphy has a hard time asking for things, especially for people to be nice or soft with him. The first time he did it it was when you were younger and he had accidentally cut his hand with a knife he had been laying with. He had come to the med-bay, but instead of waiting his turn or being taken care of by anyone else, he had come straight to you. “I’ll always be careful with you, Murph.” You say, and you remember saying it that day too. In a soft voice as he sat on one of the cots in front of you, looking at you like you held up the moon. You look at his face now, and see the same look.
“Thank you.” He says, and you smile softly. You both remember the conversation that day well, since it had been the first time you really saw him vulnerable. He never had even been this way after a bad day with his mother. He always hid those feelings up. You notice that Murphy’s neck is indeed bleeding, and you patch him up. “Sleepy.” He suddenly says, and you jump, not used to the sound in the quiet room.
“You can sleep, you know. I won’t hurt you.” You promise, and he nods up at you.
“I know you won’t.” He says, putting emphasis on the word ‘you’. You take a deep breath and you nod, understanding. Murphy’s scared of everyone else. You grab your knife, pulling it out and showing him it.
“I won’t let anybody hurt you.” You say, turning the knife in your hand. He smiles and laughs.
“You? Protecting me? Yeah, let’s see how that works out.” He snarks, but he closes his eyes and lets himself relax against the blankets. You softly undo his jacket, but keep his shirt on. You don’t want to do anything anywhere like that until he gets back to his normal self. You know he doesn’t like you seeing him that way. You’ve never really understood why, especially since you two are so close, but you assume it’s some type of self worth issues. You finish washing him up, first his arms, then his legs. He only stirs a few times, like if you’re cleaning a wound and it hurts him. When he does this, you shush him, softly petting his face until his eyes close once again.
“Do you need any help?” a voice asks behind you, and you jump, surprised that it doesn’t wake up Murphy. You put down your cloth and look behind you to see Clarke. You can tell she’s flustered, probably worried about Murphy.
“I don't need your help.” You say, your voice darker than it usually is. You know it might be irrational, but you can’t help but feel protective over Murphy. You see Clarke’s face fall and you sigh.
“I know I caused this, but I want to help. He didn’t deserve this.” She says, and you look down at the ground. “Please, let me help.” She says, walking forward. You sigh softly and look at Murphy’s sleeping face.
“I love him.” You say, grabbing his hand.
“Yeah, I assumed so.” She says, a small smile on her face. You look at her and smile.
“There’s not much to help with anymore, I cleaned him up and made sure his wounds were covered. I think you should.” You say, running your thumb over the back of his hand. “I just don't want him seeing you when he wakes up.” You admit.
“That makes sense.” Clarke responds and you nod. “I’ll be out there dealing with the others.” Clarke walks away, and leaves the dropship, leaving you and Murphy alone. You watch as Murphy wakes up once again.
“Y/N?” He asks, his eyes opening and looking up at you. You smile softly and pet his hair back again.
“Hey, baby. Go back to sleep okay?” You say, and he shakes his head. You look down at him in confusion. “Why not?” You ask.
“Want you- Want you to hold me.” He says softly, and you feel your heart break. He never asks to be held, not unless something is really wrong.
“Okay, baby, I will. Just relax okay?” You say, moving so that you’re behind him. You wrap your arm around him, and you feel him turn around in your arms. He buries his face in your shoulder and you sigh saldy, bringing your hand up to play with his hair. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” You say, and Murphy nods softly.
“My Knight in Shining Armor.” Murphy jokes, and you smile softly, kissing the top of his head. You’re happy to help him. Hopefully from here on out, everything will be okay.
#the 100#john murphy#the 100 fic#the100#t100#john murphy imagine#john murphy fic#john murphy fanfic#john murphy x reader#john murphy x you#ry.original
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