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marc-spectorr · 6 months

Text

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped.

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline.

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away.

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is.

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #dune fanfic #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #my fics

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 7 months

Note

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

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#poe dameron #star wars sequels #poe dameron x reader #x reader #poe dameron x you #x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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maxidentscene · 2 years

Text

puppy love

⚘ genre. fluff

⚘ members. ot8

⚘ synopsis. the kids are lovesick! they’ve caught themselves up in a big fat crush and act like total fools

chan wants to figure you out

As the person who’s caught his interest, you’ve become a constant thought in the back of his mind. Would you like the track he’s working on? Do you think this pullover looks good on him or should he pick a different color? What are your thoughts on ice cream and cake and every other desert on the planet?

Basically, he wants to know everything about you. He wants to know the way your mind works, he wants to pick you apart and find more things to adore about you. Because of this, he’s always asking for your opinions on the most miscellaneous things

“Hey,” he hikes your legs up from where they’re resting on the couch to make room for himself before plopping them in his lap. “Do you think I could beat all of the guys in a swimming relay? All of them.”

You thoughtfully hum and take note of the dopey smile on his face, dimples on display, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If I say no?” You tease back playfully, leaning into the soft cushions of the couch

The disappointed shake of his head makes you giggle and you decide to just entertain him. “Yes, I think you could beat them all,” you start, stopping to think for a moment. “But there’s no way you could beat me.” Even if it were a lie, it was worth it to watch Chan’s face light up as he laughed

lee know gets oddly jealous even if he shouldn’t

Minho is trying to be reasonable about these feelings that have been rapidly growing for you. Instead of stressing, he’s taking his shot at enjoying and welcoming the feeling of infatuation

This isn’t an easy thing to do when his losers for group members hang with you just as much as he does. You’re familiar and friends with all of them, but sometimes Minho really can’t find it in himself to be rational about your proximity with everyone else

It’s not a raging jealousy, nothing that makes him act out and cause a scene. It’s subtle, whether it be letting out an annoyed sigh to the members when they get too close or being quick to steal the seat that’s next to yours when out to eat

A perfect example would serve to be right now, Seungmin jokingly draping his body over yours because he was oh so tired from the ‘rough’ practice Minho enforced upon them today

Sure, he was just being friendly and comfortable with you, but that didn’t stop Minho from softly kicking the back of Seungmin’s shin to get him to stand up straight. “Get walking before we leave you here.” When the younger shot him a knowing look, he only shrugged in response

changbin simply can’t crush

Honestly, it would be an obvious crush if anything. You’re fully aware that Changbin has a crush on you, it’s a growing thing between the two of you that you sort of just slowly build together

In a way, it’s endearing. You’re both pining after each other and it’s sickening to anyone who is watching but in your eyes, it’s perfect. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while. Dancing around the topic at hand and just flirting back and forth, constantly in each other’s personal space, spending more time with each other than necessary

Changbin has been nothing but sweet to you, taking care of errands with you and talking to you about his day, letting you in on the kind of person he is. Everything about your relationship is being taken slowly, a nice pace that you’ve mutually agreed on

“Why don’t you two just date?” Hyunjin asked from the kitchen counter, sat on the marble and kicking his feet back and forth as he stared at the two of you cuddled up on the couch. Changbin shoots him a glare and he throws his hands up in defense, excusing himself to his room

You didn’t think much of this, knowing that Changbin will talk about that when he’s ready, which he’s assured is soon. It has to be ‘perfect’, or so he says. For now, you’re okay with being his cuddle buddy every weekend

hyunjin keeps his composure (mostly)

You wouldn’t know it, but Hyunjin has a pretty cool and calm exterior for someone with a raging crush on his best friend. Everyone in the world seems to know but you and that’s just because he’s so good at hiding how lovesick he is when he’s with you

It’s totally okay if you take a sip of his drink when you’re thirsty and it’s more than okay when you slip on one of his beanies because you feel like you’re having a bad hair day at the dorm. It’s very very okay if you’re just so cold that you have to hug Hyunjin and let him shield you from the winter air, tucking your hands into the pockets of his hoodie to meet his own

At least that’s what you think. For fuck sake, he’s a mess every single time. Every little thing you do has him reeling, his heart is pumping so hard you’d think Changbin convinced him to join in on cardio day. He’s thankful that you can’t feel his pulse or see the way he’s shaking ever so slightly when you’re too close

“Hyune, can I stay over tonight?” You asked with a frown, defeat written all over your face and he can only blink back at you, silently asking for an explanation. “I think it’s gonna snow pretty bad tonight.. I don’t wanna drive in that.”

Yeah. You’re gonna be the death of him, one way or another. He really needs to get this whole crush thing sorted out immediately

han literally does not know how to act around you

Even though he’s a nervous ball of…. nerves around you, he still manages to act as normal as possible. Even after all of the time you’ve spent together, which can be chalked up to almost a year, he still finds his hands clammy when he’s left alone with you

Truth is, it’s easy to talk to you and he likes everything about you. Jisung wants nothing more than to spend endless time with you, learn what you like and don’t like, maybe take you out on a date eventually, he doesn’t even care if that sounds like he’s getting ahead of himself

“You did so good out there Sung, you literally lit up the stage!” You showered him in compliments after a performance, knowing how insecure he was feeling before he went on. You noticed the way his mouth slowly fell open, visibly stunned, and found it adorable

It’s getting easier, of course, it’s only natural considering you see each other almost everyday. He’s able to hold conversation for longer than 2 minutes at a time and he can actually manage looking right into your eyes when he talks to you

“Ha, uh, you’re welcome, I mean thanks!” He’s sure that he’ll always be a little shy around you and he doesn’t see it as a bad thing. You make him want to produce so much word vomit that he actually thinks it’s cute, the effect you have on him is insane

felix showers you in gifts

Felix is a gift giver! Probably the biggest gift giver in the world, he loves to spend money just as much as he loves to shower the people he loves in presents. Of course, he knows that gifts are superficial and they don’t always mean everything, but it feels good to get you things that you talk about a lot

Every single time, Felix manages to totally surprise you. He’ll give you a pretty gift bag on a really bad day that makes you instantly light right back up or he’ll take you out to dinner on nights where you ramble about wanting to go out and do something

“This is the one… right….” His freckled face heated up as he realized that he may have bought the wrong item for you, feeling uneasy about your facial expression. Little did he know that you were damn near in tears because he managed to, yet again, catch you off guard

It had been a messy day and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed. It was like a domino effect, one bad thing simply led to another and you were at your breaking point

But, when Felix showed up to your door with a brand new heating pad because you were complaining about your back, you about burst into tears. “No. God, no, come in Felix,” you stepped aside, making sure to wrap him up into a thankful hug as soon as the door shut behind you

seungmin wants to be in your personal bubble

After years of knowing you, Seungmin is more than comfortable with you. He sits himself in your lap, he snuggles up to you when he’s sleepy but can’t go to bed yet, he snakes an arm around your waist to sway with you when a familiar song plays in whatever shop you’re visiting together

But, these aren’t really just random touches at all. Sure, he’s like this with his members and other people he’s close with, but you’re a little different. He loves your space, he loves being close to you and maybe he’s touchy on purpose

“What’s the deal?” Your eyebrow shoots up in suspicion as your peace is interrupted. You were laying on your belly, reading something on your phone when Seungmin sighed and draped himself across your back playfully. “A mattress? Is that all I am to you, Seungmin?”

“A comfy mattress,” he corrected you with a giggle when you reached behind your back, hoping to find his mouth so you could shut it. Instead of that, you found his hand instead, the sound of Seungmin’s cooing making you roll your eyes

“Aw, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could’ve just said so,” he mocked before grabbing it and refusing to let go

jeongin is the biggest tease

You can feel his sharp eyes watching you from across the table, cheeks heating up as he witnesses your struggling. Usually the sauce packet in your hands would be open in seconds, but you swear, your fingers are slippery and the packaging isn’t cut like it normally is and-

“Oh, is it too hard?” Jeongin chirps at your frowning form, smiling with the deepest dimples and gingerly taking the package out of your hands. He can’t help but laugh at the way you smack his arm in retaliation, mumbling about how you ‘almost had it’

At first he exaggerates a struggle, huffing and puffing as if the small foil was way too powerful for him to withstand, but you shot him an icy glare and he pulled it open almost immediately

He could only laugh that breathy laugh that has him gasping for air, shoulders shaking as he got up and dumped the seasoning into your noodles. “That was such a workout,” he stated before fanning himself off with his hand

This sort of behavior would probably piss you off if it were literally anyone else. But Jeongin? He does it right, he teases just enough to get you to bite the inside of your cheek in attempt of hiding a smile

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #stray kids comfort

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rad-batson · 1 year

Text

Billy Batson and Damian Wayne being weirdly good friends (ft. the occasional Jon Kent)

Billy befriends Damian after the JL learns his real identity. Batman approached him and told him they should meet since they’re the same age.

At first, it’s awkward because Damian isn’t interested in making friends, and Billy’s mad that Batman is essentially sending him to the kids' table. Until…

Damian: “Why must my father insist that I socialize? I can handle myself!” Billy: “Thank you! I’ve been on my own since I was six. I don’t need an adult to tell me what to do.” Damian: “…I like you.” Billy: “Wanna spy on the Justice League?” Damian: “Yes.”

Batman immediately regrets his decision.

At first, the two don’t really talk outside of meetings or happenstance, but when they do, they’re like twins. They know exactly what the other is thinking at all times. (The adults are terrified.)

Both end up bonding over their upbringing, specifically the fact that they were abused/traumatized/malnourished for several years. That marks the point where they start talking regularly.

Damian nearly jumps out of his skin the first time Billy speaks to him in Arabic (courtesy of the Islamic Prophet, Solomon.) They now speak exclusively in Arabic when they gossip.

They will cut a bitch. Do not get on either’s bad side.

Every time one of them says something out of pocket, the other one high-fives them. Even Jon is concerned (and very jealous.)

Billy is required to attend the same school as the Teen Titans and YJ for a bit as a condition of staying in the JL so he and Damian end up taking a few classes together.

Billy “I have Zeus on speed dial” Batson and Damian “I got a PhD in The Classics at age six” Wayne proceed to roast their history professors in the back of the classroom for all of the misinformation.

Damian: “Okay so I really need a human skull, but you can’t ask why.” Billy: “As long as you also don’t ask why.” *pulls out several pristine human skulls from pocket dimension* “Take your pick.” Damian: “…this one.” Jon: “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”

They’re both eerily good at schooling their emotions due to countless years of emotional abuse and neglect. If anything goes wrong during a mission, it’s like a switch is flipped. They are suddenly completely level-headed.

Damian gifts Billy a PC that he built himself so they can play games together without so much lag. (It’s literally just Minecraft on creative mode. They design a working amusement park together.)

Both have been permanently banned from all zoos on the eastern seaboard. Damian tried to “liberate” the ostriches, and Billy taught the gorillas swear words in sign language.

Everyone Else: “We need to find civilization on this desert planet we crashed landed on or we’ll starve.” Billy and Damian: “The human body can go ten days without food.” Everyone: “…Are you okay?” Billy and Damian: “Not important.”

Billy, Jon, Colin, and Damian have a group chat where they regularly place bets on dumb mishaps the adults get themselves into. The one rule is they can’t bet with cash. Thus they create a trading system made entirely of local snacks, Pokémon cards, supernatural knick-knacks, and dares.

#billy batson #damian wayne #Billy: The Rock of Eternity has everything. Jon: THat doEs NoT MakE iT BetTEr #dc universe #dc #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #dc robin #robin damian #jon kent #jonathan kent #batman #colin wilkes #batfam

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saphronethaleph · 3 months

Text

Subtle as a brick

Rey stepped back a little, reverently, as Jedi Master Luke took the lightsaber.

His lightsaber. It had been his father’s, then his, and now it was his again. And-

-he threw it away.

Rey just sort of stared for a moment.

Master Luke may have said something. He may not. Rey simply didn’t process a thing for at least ten seconds.

“...what was that for?” she demanded.

“Did you think I’d come out here into hiding because I didn’t have a lightsaber?” Luke asked, looking at her like she was a bit odd.

“But – I brought your lightsaber back,” Rey objected, not really sure how to handle this complete inversion of her expectations.

Luke shrugged. “It’s not mine, anyway,” he said. “It’s my father’s. I have a strong attachment to my lightsaber, which I built by myself, while brooding alone on a desert planet.”

“Like Jakku?” Rey asked.

“...I guess, yeah, like Jakku,” Luke allowed. “Weird one to bring up, though. Why Jakku?”

“I grew up there,” Rey explained. “With no idea who my parents were… all I really had were stories and the knowledge that I wanted to leave Jakku as soon as possible.”

Luke didn’t reply, favouring her with a strange look.

“I suppose I did learn some technical skills, at least,” she went on. “Then I had to help a droid get to safety with plans the First Order wanted, plans vital to the survival of the Resistance.”

Luke looked like he was going to say something, but refrained.

“You remember the Millennium Falcon?” Rey asked. “My friend and I had to flee the planet in it, just ahead of First Order fighters and starships… then one thing led to another and I had to help in destroying the most vulnerable point on a First Order superweapon. And I’m trying to deal with my connection to the Force.”

“I know the feeling,” Luke muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

Rey frowned slightly. “And… I don’t know what it is, but I have this weird feeling that I might be related to a really evil Sith somehow-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Luke shouted.

“...sorry?” Rey apologized, nervously.

“Not you,” Luke assured her. “I was speaking to the Force. I get it, you don’t need to be this blatant.”

He reached out his hand, catching the blue saber as it flew back up the slope, then tossed it underhand through the air to Rey.

She caught it, automatically, and Luke examined her with a critical eye.

“All right,” he said. “So, let’s see… have you got any friends in imminent trouble? Recent escape from a Resistance base?”

“Not yet, when I left, but the evacuation was going to have to be soon,” Rey answered. “I assume they’ve already done it… I hope they’ve got away safely.”

“Yeah, probably hasn’t happened,” Luke said. “They’re in trouble somehow. Could be they escaped to somewhere the First Order is already waiting, could be that they’re being chased directly… could be they’re in trouble to lure you into a trap.”

He shot her a grin, and it transformed his whole face, all his body language.

“The Force is not being subtle,” he said. “So I’m not going to be subtle back. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Rey,” Rey introduced herself.

“Well, Rey,” Luke said, lacing his hands together. “I’m going to make you into a Jedi. And then we are going to redeem the kark out of whoever your Sith ancestor is.”

Three very eventful weeks later, Sheev Palpatine existed in timeless harmony with the Force.

This was an enormous surprise to him.

“How, exactly, did that happen?” he asked the air, or the world, or the Force itself. “How in the kriff did Skywalker convince me to redeem myself by sacrificing myself to stop myself?”

“Not that I’d have an idea,” Anakin Skywalker said, fading into perception behind him. “But I’d guess it’s something he got from Padme’s side.”

“Oh, shut up,” Palpatine muttered.

He couldn’t even be properly angry any more, though it seemed that redemption did not prevent testiness.

Though meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi would probably have made that clear anyway.

#star wars #rey #luke skywalker #palpatine

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babacomic · 11 months

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not anymore

transcript

Station Alpha robot: Captain's log, stardate "American food day." Encountered two intelligent life forms. The robot stares at Keke and an unnamed desert-dwelling species, who are relaxing at a campfire. It then fires its plasma gun at Keke. Station Alpha robot: How about just one?

#46 #keke #our most durable exploration robot #desert planet friend #biy #comic #art #station alpha robot

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mearchy · 1 month

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The clones with drugs and alcohol - HCs

In no particular order. Obviously TW for mature themes.

REX:

Thinks of himself as a very responsible drinker, only occasionally indulges and usually when talked into it by his brothers.

Won't touch spice or any other drugs.

Able to be coaxed into shenanigans SO easily when drunk

Therefore his brothers have IMMENSE motivation to get him drunk when they want to pull Nonsense

Can also be a very sad drunk, I think. Please give him hugs.

Can hold his liquor... fine. His tolerance isn't great because he doesn't drink often but he's got engineered supersoldier metabolism so he holds up alright, to his relief.

CODY:

Who do you think Rex got his responsible drinking and drug habits from?

Except Cody is the kind of mf who learned through EXPERIENCE.

His batchmates have stories about teenage drunk Cody that they are sworn to secrecy about on pain of death.

Drunk Cody is TWICE as ready to throw down and is five times LESS inhibited about bodily tackling someone with no regard for his own safety.

Cody can probably hold his liquor but wouldn't it be so funny if he couldn't. Marshall Commander two-sheets-to-the-wind-from-four-glasses-of-wine.

WOLFFE:

He's the guy who will make direct, unwavering eye contact (ha. just the one.) with you across the table as you're both taking a sip from your drinks and suddenly you're in a competition for who can keep chugging their drink until the whole thing is empty and he's so scary how is he DOING that-

Wolffe has a naturally competitive and snippy personality but I do actually think he softens more around the edges with a few drinks in his system.

Not in a sloppy way just smiling a little more and being more affectionate.

Doesn't like or trust any substances that aren't well known to him, won't touch anything other than alcohol.

FIVES:

Sloppy, loud, kind of peevish drunk. All the shit that's always simmering under his skin has an excuse to come out.

“Listen, man. We need to start a revolution. Why hasn't someone bombed the Senat- oh, they have? Shit, can I be in on that?”

Will drop space acid or smoke space weed but only if Echo does. And Echo is smart enough to know that the paranoia Fives gets when he smokes weed is not worth it.

Type of guy to run across some random person in the desert and take psychedelics with them and go on an intense spiritual journey where he communes with dead gods. And then he shows back up at camp a couple hours later having achieved six new levels of enlightenment looking none the worse for wear. Only ever tells three people about this.

ECHO:

Echo is the kind of guy to have an Excel spreadsheet of dosages so he can bake the world's most precisely engineered edibles.

It doesn't work anyway because Fives keeps sticking his fingers in the batter and now the damn ratio is slightly off, why would you do that-

Also cannot keep a secret for the absolute life of him so he cannot pretend to be sober and he must be kept contained while drinking/stoned illicitly.

Maybe a very loving drunk. Or very sad. I'm not sure.

HARDCASE:

You already know he's in the club taking shots dancing on tabletops with his shirt off.

Life of the party, BUT he also doesn't mind being the designated driver. Flyer? Designated sober friend.

Type of guy to cheerily carry his drunk, passed out besties home and dump them into bed.

He's actually an explosives expert not just an enthusiast and he’s kind of a genius and everyone forgets that until he gets drunk and starts writing the equations to create insane explosive devices on his napkin while enthusiastically explaining it to his friends.

Very high alcohol tolerance.

GREGOR:

This man dresses like he's from Bangor Maine. I just know he was on that void planet smoking wild amounts of weed, and wearing Birkenstocks and a Patagonia puffer vest over a flannel shirt while doing it.

Thinks alcohol is a crutch.

FOX:

World's most miserable drunk.

But also can act really embarrassingly flamboyant so he stays away from alcohol at all costs.

Heh... I should kill my boss heh... wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if ... haha if I just walked into his office with a grenade right now and pulled the pin... fine, fiiine, yes, stop yelling at me. I would neeever leave Thorn with that much paperwork.

Zero tolerance, complete lightweight, doesn't matter how often he drinks. Can't hold his liquor for shit.

DOOM:

He either does mind-boggling amounts of coke or he's completely 100% straight edge and always has been. Don't ask me how I know this.

BLY:

He's so normal about alcohol I bet.

But he is giggling and kicking his feet and twirling his hair while talking to his brothers about Aayla and about the adventures of his men.

Absolutely incorrigible gossip.

Not braver after a few drinks just more prone to melting into a puddle.

Tried space MDMA once (spice?) just to say he did and hated it.

Uhhh if I do a part two it will include the bad batch and some other clones I missed.

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mt-oe · 2 months

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𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧…𝐃𝐖𝐌𝐀?—soul eater au mizu!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Firstly, thank you so much for always leaving funny and kind replies on my fics, and being so nice all the time <3 All of you motivate me so much and make me enjoy writing more ////

Second, I know this isn't a request, but it's my birthday today! I have no idea how to celebrate this year and what better way than to make a crossover with the first anime I've ever loved?

Truly, I'm so happy to be making something anyone can enjoy on my birthday. Thank you so much for appreciating my writing <3

Hope all of you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, mentions of weaponry, she/her he/him they/them for mizu, reader thinks mizu is a man

note/s: made mizu the weapon because of the scene where she said she was made of mixed metal

...

Ah...

It's so motherfucking hot.

Is Nevada...always like this?

Fuck.

"How much more?" you groaned out loud to yourself, collapsing on the seemingly never-ending staircase for the nth time that morning. Sweat was dripping down your forehead and back like bullets. You could feel your head pounding and spinning from the sweltering heat, too painful to even look up at the sun that was, quite literally, laughing at you.

But, you knew you couldn't give up right now. Not when the school of your dreams was just at the top, waiting for you. Your index finger hooked itself under your collar as you got up again and started making your way up again. "Ah damn it. Why the hell is the sun laughing?!" you yelled, voice hoarse from the drought in your throat. Step by step and complaint after complaint.

It took you a while—a long long loooooong while—but after a few more collapses and some prayers to Lord Shinra, you finally arrived. Wiping the sweat off of your face, you looked up and marveled at the grandeur of the building in front of you.

Death Weapon Meister Academy. DWMA for short.

The place where weapons and meisters from all-over the globe gather. A well-known institution dedicating itself to preventing the formation of another kishin through training students in combat and teaching to control their abilities as weapons. Entrusted and funded by countries all-over the globe, that's how much of a bigshot this place was.

Everyone on the goddamn planet knew about it. The school that the world's hero headed and where the world's heroes were formed. Anyone in their right mind dreamed of attending school here. Heck, this was your life long dream since you were a little kid. Luckily for you, you were born in a family with a lineage of meisters so admission was an easy process.

Thank you, dear ancestors. I hope all of you are resting well.

With a bated breath, you took a step forward, the wind cooling your body down as you looked around. This place was absolutely beautiful. Even more than what you had imagined or seen in pictures. The strong breeze blew against you, making the vastness of the place felt. Turning around, you gasp at the beautiful view of Death City.

'Guess this'll be my new home,' you thought with a small smile, taking in the scenery. The houses looked like little dollhouses from above, so cute and quaint. Despite being surrounded by the desert, the city did not look even the slightest amount of dead. In fact, it looked quite busy with all the people out on the streets.

You sighed dreamily, thinking about the life you'll be living from now own. All the lessons you'll learn, the friends you'll meet, what the dorms looked like, how the food tastes. You'd probably face a lot problems too.

But, first things first, you have to find a weapon.

That shouldn't be a problem, right? I mean, look around. Students were walking and mingling all around you and some of them were alone. There's probably lots of weapons that were in the same situation as you. Maybe you could ask them?

Stepping inside the building, you fully expected someone, maybe a student or a faculty member assisting the newcomers. But what you saw was the last thing you could have thought of. The moment you came in, by a table where some brochures were placed, you immediately found...a zombie?

You looked up at him, eyes wide open and shaken by his existence. The zombie stared—was he even staring? You couldn't even tell—back at you, a slightly serious but overall neutral expression on his purple face. 'Welcome Freshmen!' the sign above the door near him said. This was definitely a unique welcome. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn't find the words.

...

"Weapon or meister?"

HOLY SHIT IT TALKS.

Your body jolted at the sound of his voice before looking behind you to check if he was talking to you. You nodded before opening your mouth to reply, a string of stuttered incoherent words could be heard before you finally replied. "M-Meister," you replied nervously.

The figure nodded and handed you a brochure and a nameplate with the word 'meister' on it. "You can find a partner inside. If you don't, there's a dorm warming party in the evening." His blank eyes stared at you for a moment longer before he spoke again, "I'm Sid. A faculty member. Welcome to DWMA."

Attaching the tag on your shirt, you nodded at him with a slight smile. Seems like he was a good guy after all. "Thank you sir," you said, heading inside the room.

Inside, lots of students have gathered already. Some were just chatting amongst themselves and some where trying to convince others to be their partner. There were some who were arguing over who another person would choose. However, there were those who just sat somewhere, waiting for someone to approach them.

Similar to them, you sat down on a random chair, looking around at who could be your potential partner. You knew you couldn't choose just willy-nilly. The wavelength of your souls had to match and so does your personality. No one wants a partner that they couldn't get along with after all.

After a few more students entered, Sid closed the door before clearing his throat to gather everyone's attention. "I guess this should be everyone," he said, looking around and nodding. "I'll reintroduce myself. I'm Sid, a faculty member here in DWMA. All of you are gathered here to find your partner."

At the mention of 'partner', your heart began beating faster from excitement. The thought of finally finding someone whose soul matches yours, to go on adventures with and defeat bad guys with, thrilled you. "Once you're sure, head over to me to register. Registration ends a day before class starts."

With that, you pushed yourself up from your seat to begin interacting with others. Though it soon dawned on you that interacting wasn't the hard part nor was it finding someone who's personality was compatible with yours.

It was finding someone whose soul was on the same wavelength.

The first attempt you had tried was with a young woman who claimed to have lived in Nevada her whole life. Her weapon form was a baseball bat, and you would soon come to know that weapons that were incompatible with their meisters were immovable. Literally.

Upon transforming in your hands, an indescribably heavy weight suddenly pulled you down to the floor. With determination, you placed your hands on the handles and tried your best to lift her up to no avail. Both of you apologized to each other before going off to look for another person to try connecting with. In short, your souls didn't match. Incompatible.

You tried again, now with a morning star. Again. Incompatible.

Again. A 9mm pistol? Incompatible.

A butterfly knife? Incompatible.

A sabre? Incompatible.

A gauntlet? Incompatible.

A karambit? Incompatible.

A rapier? Incompatible.

Incompatible. Incompatible. Incompatible.

A sense of defeat washed over you as most people in the room soon found a partner, some even a trio. The event finally ended with you being one of the only people who wasn't able to find a partner. Your stomach twisted with disappointment though Sid tried to reassure you.

After receiving your monthly allowance, you headed to the dorms to finally get your room assignment. You knew it was childish to feel so down especially when the deadline for the registration was still a few days away, but you couldn't help yourself.

'What if I don't find one?' you thought to yourself, frowning as you watched your senior introduce the dorms to everyone. Worry was running through you, making it impossible for you to pay complete attention to what she was saying.

Going up the stairs, you were finally introduced to your room. Trying your best to cheer up, you thought maybe your roommate could be the weapon you were looking for. Or maybe you could be besties or something.

However, as soon as you reached your room, your senior suddenly stopped before you could enter. "Err...I know this is a bit difficult to understand, but as of the moment, you don't have a roommate yet," your senior, who you found out was named Tsugumi, said with a sheepish smile. "B-But don't worry! They said they already had someone in mind. Your roommate just..umm...didn't appear today."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. What do you mean you don't have a roommate yet? Was this some sort of joke? You haven't even made a friend yet nor have you found a weapon, and now your roommate was missing.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking a bit nervous from your reaction. You tried your best to give her a smile, but the curve of your lips just wouldn't cooperate as easy as it usually did. "Yeah. I'm okay! Just a bit worried," you replied.

Tsugumi doesn't seem to be convinced but decided to let you be anyway. "I'm sure she's fine. I heard she was penalized for dueling with another student without faculty supervision. She'll probably be here by tomorrow. For the meantime, why don't you settle in?" she tried to reassure you, to which you nodded with a small smile of your own. "I will. Thank you."

After she left, you opened the door to your room before stepping in. Closing the door behind you, you sighed and made your way to the bed. The bed squeaked slightly under your weight, echoing throughout the room. A sigh leaving your lips as you looked around.

"The dorm warming party. If I don't find a partner or a roommate there, I'm speaking to the faculty," you whispered to yourself with a push of exhausted determination. You stood up again and gave yourself a little puff of air. For the meantime, you fixed your side of the room. At least you could pick which bed was more comfy.

---

Evening soon came by and most students in your dorm had gathered to celebrate the dorm warming party, though it was obviously turned into some weapon-meister finding event again, you didn't mind. You were just as desperate as the other students.

As everyone interacted with one another, you once again tried your best to find a weapon whose soul matched with yours.

You met a man, a karambit, who hailed from the same country as you so you got along quite well immediately. Having someone to talk to about familiar experiences especially in terms of culture and tradition comforted you despite your situation. Maybe the similarities you had could tie your soul's frequencies together?

After a few more chats, the two of you decided to try and see if your souls matched. However, upon his transformation, the familiar physical and emotional weight of rejection pulled you down. You, once again, couldn't lift him up. Incompatible.

Oh death, what was going on? Why can't you find someone to be your partner?

Apologizing to the man, you mingled with the other students, determination wavering but not depleted. No, you weren't going to let the night end without a weapon.

A flail? Incompatible.

A scythe? Incompatible.

A tanto? Incompatible.

A machete? Incompatible.

An M16? Incompatible.

A musket? Incompatible.

A double-crossguard long sword?

You didn't even know those existed but still...Incompatible.

Incompatible. Incompatible. Incompatible.

A deep disappointed sigh left your lips as you stepped out of the dorm to get some air. This was unbelievable. You've been trying all day! At this point, you were starting to doubt if you were ever going to find a partner.

Dear ancestors, I'm sorry if I disappoint you.

Groaning, you made your way to the city. Maybe a bit of exploration would cheer you up. Step by step, you made your way down the stairs to the streets of Death City. The streets were a lot more quiet than it was earlier. Only a few shops were still open and it looked like they were getting ready to close too.

It didn't really matter to you though. You were just here to take a walk anyway.

As the night deepened, the streets soon grew dimmer and dimmer. Soon enough, you found yourself lost within the city's labyrinth-like streets. An eerie aura soon covered the dark streets, as if you were going to get kidnapped any mome—Hey no! Don't think like that! You're fine, you're fine! Perfectly fine haha.

Nervously, you hummed a small shaky tune to distract you from the spooky atmosphere, turning around to try and make your way back to the dorms. Suddenly, the wind blew incredibly cold, goosebumps ran down your skin. A feeling that someone was watching you suddenly loomed over you, making your stomach flip.

"N-No that can't be haha," you told yourself, rubbing your arms to try and get rid of the shakes in your system. "The city is safe. The city is safe. It's just my imagination. I'm just really upset and I'm imagi—"

crash!

"—ning..things.."

Your blood suddenly ran cold at the sudden loud sound, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. That was definitely not your imagination. That sounded very real and that sounded like it happened right fucking behind you.

Hesitantly, you turned around slowly to take a look, hoping it was just a cat or something. But upon looking, the only thing you saw were sharp blue orbs staring at you. Glaring at you.

Oh shit.

Immediately, you sprinted forward, hoping to find someone or something that could help you. Your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and your legs ached as you continued to push yourself beyond the limits of your corporeal body.

This was absolutely the worst day of your life.

First, you couldn't find a weapon whose soul matched yours. Second, your roommate, who you had hoped to be friends with, didn't appear. And now, you were being chased by someone or something that you couldn't even see from how dark it was. Worse of all, you couldn't fight because you didn't have a FUCKING WEAPON!

You could hear the mysterious figure's footsteps following close behind you, chasing you down tirelessly through the dirty and smelly streets. Your knees trembled from fatigue, heartbeat echoing louder than your footsteps. But the person chasing you sounded so close, you couldn't stop now.

Suddenly, the footsteps disappeared, the sound no longer following you as you ran. A part of your brain sighed in relief at it's disappearance, but the other part felt more paranoid from its absence. The logical side of you knew that it didn't disappear. There was no way it would after chasing you for so long.

Your suspicions were confirmed as a new sound could be heard behind you from a distance. Footsteps significantly heavier than those chasing you before. Looking back as you ran, your eyes widened in fear as you saw red eyes staring at you hungrily from a distance. A big burly bald man, reaching past 6 feet, carrying a mace heading your way. To make things worse, as you ran forward, you were immediately stopped as the streets cut off into a dead end, leaving you with nowhere to go.

Turning around, you looked at the person chasing. Without a doubt, this man's soul was definitely a kishin egg. But fuck, you can't do shit. Not without a weapon.

A shaky breath left your lips as you looked up at the sky, slowly accepting that this was where you were going to die. A weaponless meister whose journey in DWMA barely began. Your eyes glazed with tears, both of frustration and fear, looking up at the moon that was...grinning?

"Oh why the hell are you smiling?" you muttered, glaring at it. Hearing the man's footsteps close to you, you turned to look at him fearfully. The man didn't smile, nor did he talk, his arms merely lifted his mace up as he approached your defeated figure.

Man...at least this dude had a weapon, you thought. Ears ringing, you closed your eyes and waited for your impeding death.

...

Why is it not hurting yet?

...

Any moment now?

"Are you going to keep standing there?" a strained voice asked. Immediately, you opened your eyes to see a tall figure, hair in a bun, blocking the mace with what seemed to be a katana. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could, the figure had already turned to look down at you with a glare.

A soft gasp leaving your lips as you saw his eyes.

Blue. Like the ones from earlier.

The hypnotizing shade shaking you to the core, but at the same time hypnotizing your soul.

Realizing that you were frozen in place, your savior let out a loud "tsk" before looking back up at the kishin egg. As the enemy lifted his mace to swing it down, Mizu parried it with great force, a loud metallic crack resonating in the air as small bits of the sword flew. Upon seeing this opening, his hands grabbed your wrist, slipping away from the enemy and dragging you along the streets.

Static went through your mind as the two of you ran. Your eyes never leaving the mysterious new person's figure. It seems that there weapon from earlier wasn't a demon weapon as you expected, so you still didn't know if he was a meister, a weapon, or a regular person. You didn't even know if he was actually a good person.

Your savior wore what seemed to be a haori, tied close with an obi at his waist. His body seemed to be lean and his grip on your wrist was firm, but not enough to hurt you. A gasp left your lips as he suddenly pulled you into a corner, holding your body close to his. His heartbeat was so loud, you could feel it against your back.

"What are you—mmph!" He immediately covered your mouth with his hand, peeking around the corner to take a look at the enemy before immediately pulling back. Pulling you closer, a shiver went down your spine as you felt him lean down close to your ear, breath tickling your skin. "I'll distract him, you run. Got it?"

Breathing deeply, you tried your best to think, but the upcoming footsteps was making your anxiety rise, fogging your mind. With no other choice, you nodded. Taking your signal, your savior released the hand covering your mouth, putting the broken blade down on the ground.

Your eyes widened as you watched his hand transform into what seemed like a blade. Blue like his eyes with wave-like patterns, sharp edge telling you that this person was definitely already used to transforming.

The moment both of you felt the enemy's footsteps stop near your hiding spot, his untransformed hand immediately pushed you away before jumping in front of the enemy. Without another thought, you ran away, feet picking up the pace immediately.

A small part of your heart ached, feeling guilty for leaving the man behind after he had helped you. You felt horrible. Like something was wrong and you should go back to help him. The uncomfortable feeling running so deep you could feel it in your...soul?

You couldn't take it anymore. Before you could go on any further, your feet slowed down until they halted. The moment you did, you heard a loud crash by the street where you had come from, and that was all it took for you to run back.

On the ground, your savior laid, trying to pick himself up, but it was clear to you that he was hurt and exhausted. Your eyes darted for anything that could help you until they landed on the broken blade from earlier. Hurriedly, you picked it up, rushing parry the upcoming attack.

Anticipating the pain of the impact, your savior gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw. But to her surprise, the sound of metal crashing against metal could be heard before metal shards flew in the air as you parried the attack with all your strength.

Her eyes widened in shock, hands immediately pushing herself up before his sharp blue eyes glared at you with such ferocity. But before he could tell you to run away once again, you threw the sword away and gripped his hand, preparing to pull him away.

The moment she felt your hand in hers, Mizu didn't know why, but her mind went blank.

The rage inside her quelled and her heart began beating faster. She was so used to fighting alone, to using her abilities as a weapon for herself, to closing herself off. But right now, it felt like she wanted to transform for you.

It felt safe. Like your souls were connected.

Before she even realized what she was doing, Mizu had transformed into a weapon in your hand. A small gasp leaving your lips as you felt her form shift into something different and her weight become lighter. You turned your head to look at her, eyes widening as you gasped.

In your hand was a katana. A beautiful one at that. The blade itself was a distinct shade of blue which reminded you of the sky before sunrise. A wave-like pattern adorned the hamon in an almost artistic sense. Despite the beauty of the blade, the cutting edge itself was extremely sharp. Almost scarily sharp.

The handle felt different to the usual Japanese swords you have seen around the school, having no cords wrapped around it. However, it appeared to be a slight cream-ish white with patterns on it, reminding you of handles made of ray skin. Around the handle, you couldn't help but smile ever so slightly at the menuki wrapped around it. It was...cute. Not something you'd expect from someone so intimidating.

"Keep your eyes on the enemy!" you heard his voice say, snapping you out of your trance. Immediately, you looked up before dodging another attack just in time. Your body shook with fear and the adrenaline rushing through it. You couldn't even feel your face with how scared you were. Before both of you could comprehend it, you were already running.

Fuck. You could feel your soul shaking.

Unbeknownst to you, Mizu could feel the fear running through you too. She could feel how erratic your wavelength was becoming as she watched you flee the scene with her in your hand. But it was no use, the enemy was close behind both of you, hot on your trail.

Your feet continued to run as fast as you could until you found a small corner to hide in. Panting softly, you looked at the blade in your hands, biting your lip in shame. "I'm sorry," you whispered to him, curling up into a ball. "I...I'm scared."

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. A part of her wanted to tell you off for being such a coward, but another part believed in you even if she didn't know why. Mizu sighed, looking down at her own feet, before looking off into the darkness. "I understand," he mumbled, making you look up.

He groaned to himself, unable to comprehend how compelled he felt to open up to you. Maybe she just didn't want to admit it, but deep inside her, she was scared too. "I...my soul is impure. Made by a kishin egg's and a good soul," he started, the sudden revelation making your eyes go wide.

"Not many meisters wanted to pair with a weapon whose soul was mixed with a sinners, and those who did...were incompatible." He looked up at you, before giving you a small smile. "That was until you," he chuckled, voice resembling a sigh. "It's fine if you're scared. We're both new to this after all."

You gulped thickly, looking at Mizu guiltily. His story tugging at your heart strings but at the same time calming you. No, you weren't going to let both of you die like this. You're not going to disappoint your savior who trusted you enough to let you hold him for the first time.

Gathering as much courage as you could, you shakily stood up, hand gripping the handle tighter. Her eyes widened as she watched your eyebrows knit together and your slightly swollen lips part as you took a deep breath. Her smile turned into something more genuine, more proud of you. "Look sharp, okay?" Pulse pounding loudly, you made your way out of your hiding spot, scanning the area until you made eye contact with the kishin egg.

The coward in you wanted to run, seeking the comfort of safety. But, you were a DWMA student weren't you? This was finally your chance to prove it.

The ground trembled as the enemy ran towards you, you swinging his mace aiming for your head. Dodging swiftly, you took the opportunity to stab the enemy's foot, making him keel and bend over in pain. With the new opening, you cut his hamstrings to render him unable to stand. All slashes done with ease, amazing you with how great of a weapon your savior was.

In attempt to save himself, the enemy prepared himself and parried your incoming attacks. But it was no use, with how light the katana in your hand was, you easily overwhelmed him, slashing his arm off before finally cutting his head off.

A loud thud could be heard as his body fell to the ground, head rolling to your feet, making you shudder. You watched as the enemy's remains turned to ashes, revealing a soul. A red soul. A kishin egg, as they called it.

You gasped as your savior suddenly pulled half his body out of the blade's sword and reached for the soul floating in front of you. His blue eyes narrowed at it, inspecting it before putting it into his mouth. Your eyes followed the outline of his throat as the red orb traveled down in what you could describe as an oddly smooth but very ever-so-slightly attractive manner.

But wait...

...

I think we forgot an important detail here.

"What the fuck?!" you yelled in surprise, making the man jolt back into the sword before glaring at you. You stared at him, then to the wave pattern on the flat of the blade, then to him, then to the cutting edge, then back at him.

Mizu looked visibly confused as you lifted him up and continued to stare with awe and wonder, wondering why you were acting so weird. "I'm holding...a weapon," you breathed out, grin tugging up your lips. "I'm actually holding one. I'm holding you."

You couldn't believe it. In your hands was a weapon.

An actual fucking weapon. One that didn't slam against the ground when you tried to carry it. One whose soul matched with yours.

Finally.

A katana? Compatible.

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Admittedly, the situation made her feel weird, but the look of amazement in your eyes told her that although she wouldn't like to admit it, your soul actually felt at peace with hers just as hers was with yours.

As if the two of you were sharing a moment more intimate than it seemed.

Taking a step back, you watched as Mizu went back to his human form. You've watched students transform before, but seeing Mizu transform made your heart soar with joy. After all, you were watching your partner transform. Your weapon They were your weapon.

Yours.

His eyes stared down at you as you continued to look up at him in amazement. Eyes tracing his features, taking in every detail, the way his mouth moved as he spoke. The sound of him clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and to look at his expectant expression. "Mizu."

"P-Pardon?" you stuttered out sheepishly, pinching your arm lightly to make sure you weren't dreaming. "It's my name. You'll need it," he said with a nonchalant tone, turning to head back to the academy. Letting out a series of incoherent stutters, you walked right behind him. "I'll need it...?" you repeated, a smile of confusion and excitement tugging at your lips.

"Don't look so confused. You're my meister now, aren't you?"

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shanastoryteller · 1 year

Note

Star Trek please!! Happy Halloween

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Admiral Archer is unwilling to take his rescission at face value and demands a more complete explanation. To Spock's relief, and the gathered students' disappointment, he's willing to hear it in his private office.

Captain Pike slips in behind them, which gets him an irritated scowl but the admiral allows it. Spock is only marginally surprised by this. Admiral Archer and Captain Pike are known to be on good terms and James Kirk had entered the academy on Captain Pike's recommendation.

"Explain," Admiral Archer demands.

Spock hesitates.

Starfleet is of course aware of the events that took place on Tarsus IV and so they must be equally aware of James Kirk's role in it. While Admiral Archer certainly has the clearance to know the particulars, it does not mean that he does, and Spock is loathe to reveal these particulars, even to someone who could find them out himself. Additionally, Captain Pike does not have the necessary clearance, and while he does not think that James Kirk would allow his presence if he did not wish him to know, or had not already told him, Spock cannot be certain and there is no way for him to ask.

"Commander," Admiral Archer snaps. "Is this a joke to you?"

"No, sir," he answers. He doesn't find any of this funny at all.

James Kirk steps up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Spock resists the urge to flinch and shoots him a disapproving look. The contact is not skin on skin, but any casual contact is discouraged. James Kirk is very well aware of Vulcan customs.

Then again, his point of contact for Vulcan culture is Sybok. His brother had been significantly more... affectionate after Tarsus IV. Spock wonders if that's something he picked up from his association with James Kirk.

"It's alright," James Kirk says warmly. "Spock, tell Admiral Archer whatever you want him to know."

He doesn't remove his hand. Human's run hot, their physiology not perfectly calibrated to survive in the deep heat of the desert, but even still James Kirk's hand feels unusually warm.

"I was unaware of Cadet Kirk's background with facing impossible odds when I made my accusation," he says. "Having been made aware of it, my perspective has shifted. Cadet Kirk does not allow rules or the constraints of logic prevent him from doing what he believes must be done. This was what he was demonstrating by bypassing and reprogramming my system."

He can feel James Kirk staring at him but he doesn't take his eyes of Admiral Archer.

Admiral Archer frowns. "You didn't know he was on Tarsus IV with your brother?"

That he already knows is a source of relief. The incredulity is less.

"Spock had exams the time I went to Vulcan," James Kirk says. "Sybok loves an excuse to go off-planet, so we usually meet up on Earth. Spock and I have never met before." He turns to him with a grin that Spock is distinctly uncomfortable having aimed in his direction. "I should have known the second I saw you. You look a lot like your mother."

Being compared to one's mother on Vulcan is a high compliment. Or it's supposed to be. Spock's had those same words hurled at him before, but it was with cruelty, as a way to demean him rather than honor the woman who bore him.

James Kirk say the words easily, exactly as they are intended to be spoken.

"You're driving me to drink," Admiral Archer says.

Spock has no idea how to appropriately respond to that.

"What about me? You're driving me to drink," James Kirk says, "which is driving Bones to as of yet unknown heights of nagging. The stress isn't good for him but he keeps threatening me with hypos when I tell him that. Can't I just be concerned for my friend?"

That is not an appropriate response on top of being incomprehensible.

Admiral Archer rubs his forehead. "Chris."

"Sir," Captain Pike returns, grabs the back of James Kirk's jacket, and hauls him out of there like grabbing a wayward kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Spock stands there, unsure, until Admiral Archer glances up and says, "You too, Commander. I'll consider this matter closed."

He nods, "Thank you, Sir," and steps outside to an empty hall. Captain Pike and James Kirk are nowhere to be seen.

Once he returns to his quarters, he video calls his brother.

He doesn't pick up.

Typical.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #star trek #jim: i will refer to spock respectfully and give him typical vulcan compliments #spock who has been disrespected every day of his life: *vibrates in place*

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askinkiskarma · 1 year

Text

High Infidelity

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: cheating, smut (fingering, oral - f receiving, praise kink), cursing, 18+ minors dni

Word count: 3.7k words

Notes: oops, was supposed to write other things, but listening to this song triggered smth in my brain so here it is x enjoy ;)

next part (x)

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

“I’m tired, we can do it tomorrow.”

“Ao’nung, we haven’t been swimming together in months. We’re supposed to be together for the rest of our lives, you’d think I wouldn’t have to drag you outside to spend time with me every other day.”

“Maybe if you stopped nagging me like we’re already mated, I would be more inclined to want to spend time with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears falling down your cheeks any less than your legs making a run for it at the slightest pushback from your mate-to-be. Running away was the only time you felt free anymore. You loved Ao’nung. He’s been in your life… well, your whole life. There was little of you that wasn’t tied back to him and there was little of him that wasn’t embedded in you. You grew up together, Tsireya’s best friend and confidant, Ronal’s long-lost daughter, it seemed. You might as well be, since your parents were never around anyway, not to raise you, or to teach you better than to accept such treatment from a boy, who had been sweet and kind to you all your life, until he realised you liked him, until he realised that no matter how little he gave, you would cling on to it for dear life, you would pretend a drop of water was a fountain, and that it could sustain your thirst until the next drop came.

You didn’t stop until you hit the beach, that was deserted this time of night, and sat down on the warm, soft sand. You sighed, allowing yourself the kindness of respite, of crying it out without shame, without constraint, without being made to feel stupid for being soft. You felt so foolish, so used and yet somehow so useless, at the same time. You were deep in thought, so deep in your own sorrow, that felt like it was drowning you, keeping your head forcefully underwater until there was no more breath in your lungs, that you missed the steps tracking closer until a tall form was towering above you.

“Are you alright?”

You shot up and onto your feet, pried out of your anguished reverie and shaking from the scare of another person, at a time and place you thought you would have the safety of solitude. You immediately recognised the young man sitting across from you, the rhythmic bioluminescent waves shining over his face, making him glow with ethereal beauty unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It was hard not to know who he was, as him and his family have been the talk of the village for a while now, the buzz surrounding their arrival constant and unending. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the son of Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and the Sixth ever Toruk Makto. Everybody knew his story, everybody admired him, for his valiant win over the demons that took so much from the Na’vi and from the Planet. Now there he was, in your village, with his whole family, asking for Uturu, asking for a new chance, asking to be trained in the Metkayina ways.

Neteyam Sully was a beautiful man. Tall and muscular, his body was a deep shade of blue, so unlike your own, so unlike anything you’ve ever known. His stripes were even darker, an intense indigo that reminded you of the night sky, of the sea during a heavy storm, and the contrast was hypnotising, so hypnotising, in fact, you couldn’t stop the booming in your heart or the way you were shamelessly staring at his arms and chest. His hand went to your chin, and he brought your face upwards to get you to look in his eyes. You swore your breath stopped when he touched you, all of your 18 years of breath practice and your phenomenal control right out the window. His eyes were bright like the stars in the night sky, which might as well have been dull and pointless when compared to the freckles on his face, that shone brilliantly and moved upwards as his lips lifted in a soft smile.

“Can you hear me?”

You shook your head lightly, trying to push the thoughts out of your head and bring the sane ones back in.

“Y-yes, I can. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wanted to make sure you are alright. You seemed… upset.”

His hand didn’t drop from you chin, and his lingering touch sent shivers down your back that reached the tips of your fingers and toes before dissipating and being replaced with new ones, electrifying your entire being.

This was wrong. You were promised to another man. To the future Olo’eyktan. You had no business getting shivers down your spine, no business getting lost in his eyes, no business feeling feelings you have never felt before, not with Ao’nung, not with anybody else. You took a step back and watched and his hand fell from your face limply besides his body.

“I’m alright. Thank you for checking, you are very kind. I should probably go now. It’s late.”

You didn’t look behind you as you passed him and headed hurriedly back towards the village, hoping this way you could outrun him, the emotions he evoked in you, the shame that followed and the guilt that you knew was lurking menacingly in the shadows.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick. Forgive me?”

The shell he was holding out in his palms was gorgeous, everything you liked about the world and the sea wrapped in a tiny, magical package. He knew what you liked, he knew you very well, a thought that made you despondent. If he knew you, that means he knew what he was doing to you. He knew the feelings that plagued you, feelings that he brought upon you, that his actions brought upon you, and he still did them - unapologetically, at least until the last second, when he came asking for forgiveness, which you granted every time. He raised an index finger to your chin and lifted your head and you couldn’t help the booming in your ears when the action reminded you of the Omatikaya boy and the night you’ve pointlessly tried your best to forget about the past couple of weeks.

As your lips touched, a messy, sloppy kiss, filled with intention and need, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as not even this kiss, passionate as it was, invoked a fraction of the same reaction in your body as Neteyam’s one touch. Still, you loved Ao’nung. You always have. You were to be a mated pair soon. You were to be together…forever. He moaned as he deepened the kiss and you smiled at knowing, despite everything, it was you who made him feel this way. He might be acting out now, but he loved you, he wanted you. And one day, he’ll love you enough to show you in more ways than just the one.

“I still have to teach the Omatikaya, how about you come with me?”

“NO!”

Ao’nung looked at you curiously and tried to understand where this reaction was coming from. You knew you exaggerated and had to calm yourself if you were to not raise any suspicion. Not that there was anything to raise, you didn’t do anything wrong. And yet still, you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling, the lingering thought that you had to lie, that what happened had to stay between you and the eldest Sully.

“I’d rather not, I have other things to do around the village anyway.”

Ao’nung scoffed and rolled his eyes irately.

“You know, you keep saying we never spend time together, but then you pull this shit. I’m busy, you know? I can’t always entertain you whenever you want.”

You felt the all-too-familiar sinking feeling take over your mind again, just like the tears that formed almost instantly at his words, threatening you, praying for one moment of weakness so they’d fall and make a mess out of you again.

“Ao’nung… I come most times you ask. Every time you ask, in fact, which is very rarely. I just can’t right now. I’ll wait for you to come by my marui tonight. My parents aren’t home.”

Why did you do that? Why did you ask him to come? He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you. You made a promise, though. To the clan, to the Tsa’hik and Olo’eyktan. To him. It was an unbreakable promise, a sacred bond. You were mere weeks away from completing your Iknimaya, short time away from giving yourself to him, allowing him to do to you what you knew was the ultimate form of intimacy, what you’ve wondered about for years, what you’ve been craving for the last few weeks.

You walked on the beach, the same beach, a beach most Metkayina didn’t come to, as it was out of the way and filled with big rocks and greenery that took away from the beauty of it all and the usual uninterrupted patch golden sand which people liked to lie on, to feel, as it grazed their sea-green skin. You hoped the walk would clear your mind, a hope that quickly vanished from sight as a certain cerulean Na’vi tapped you gently on the shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. He laughed softly, his sharp, pronounced canines coming swiftly into view, and you felt a sudden urge to touch them, to see if they were indeed as sharp as they looked. Could they draw blood? Could they pierce your skin easily, as they grazed over you, over your neck, over your -

“Sorry I scared you. I was hoping I’d run into you again.”

“I…” you took a deep breath in a futile effort to calm your nerves. “I thought you were training with Ao’nung.”

He eyed you intently, his gaze trailing over your face and landing on your lips. You opened them slightly to accommodate the deeper breaths you felt the need to take, like your body needed an increase in its oxygen intake to keep up with the intensity of his presence.

“I was, but my dad needed me for something. I’m on my way there now.”

Your hand felt like it caught on fire as his fingers wrapped around it, lifting it up in front of you until your palm was facing upwards and he dropped a bracelet in it, closing your hand with a touch of his hand and letting you go.

“You lost this, that night on the beach? I have been meaning to give it back to you, but you have a way of eluding me, it seems.”

You opened your hand again and inspected the item that was now residing in it. It was a bracelet you got as a gift when you were much younger, when your mateship with Ao’nung was first announced. Your shoulders dropped at its sight. It was pretty, and ornate, and a bitter reminder of what was beautiful and has now soured through time, like fruit left outside on a hot day.

“Thank you. I appreciate you finding it for me. It’s very precious to me.”

He chuckled a little, unable to keep the sarcasm from coating his tongue.

“Is it? It’s been weeks since you’ve lost it, and the way you reacted makes me think you didn’t even realise it was gone.”

You took a step back at his words and felt your ears flattening in response. Your dour expression must have taken him by surprise, just like his words did you, because he took a step towards you and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to infer. You know better than me what this means to you. It was rude of me, and I apologise.”

You couldn’t help staring at him once more, wide-eyed and bushy tailed, unable to understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. He… apologised? He said something untoward and he just… apologised? You don’t think this has ever happened to you. You didn’t think that was possible, not to you, at least. Other girls, your friends, had mates like that, had relationships that were… well, happy. They were happy, and filled with love and lust and passion, with sleepless nights and midnight swims, with lingering touches and anticipating gazes, filled with feelings of flickering flames and wondrous woes, filled with so many things you’ve never felt before, with all the things you were feeling right in this second.

“So you are Ao’nung’s mate?”

Why was he asking you this? Why now?

“Mate-to-be.” You whispered, knowing that if your voice was any louder, it would be shaky and breathy.

He nodded to himself, looking deep in thought as his eyes darted to your much smaller body and then over in the distance, at the waves crashing on the beach.

“Why are you asking, Neteyam?”

His step faltered a little as you said his name, but he regained his composure almost immediately, falling back into step with you, as if it never happened. His face gave little away, although his tail was moving behind you furiously, running up and down the back of your thighs in their haphazard motion. You felt heat pool in the pits of your abdomen at the quick brush of the soft appendix, that you tried to will away to no avail.

“Take care of yourself. I should go train with your mate.”

And just like that he left, leaving you to deal with your chagrinned heart and leering mind, all on your own.

He didn’t show. Once more, you waited for hours in your tent, until way past eclipse, and your mate didn’t show. You were crying in your hammock, trying to undo the hurt in your heart, hoping that if you cry hard enough it will just escape through your tears duct and be gone from your body once and for all. You were playing with the bracelet he gave you so long ago, cursing it and cursing him for the years of hurt and pain, the years of broken promises and shattered expectations, and with newfound determination, you dropped it on the floor and left for your beach.

You were a little surprised when you found Neteyam sitting peacefully on the beach, looking into the darkness that enveloped the sea for the night, only the glimmer of the bioluminescent plankton being hit by the soft waves visible. You swallowed audibly, and made your way to this man you had some sort of unspoken connection to, trying to ignore the way your heart thumped in your chest at the mere sight of him.

His ears twitched as he made out your presence, but he didn’t made any effort to acknowledge it otherwise.

“He didn’t show, did he?”

“H-how did you…?”

“I overheard you. In the morning.” He got up and turned around to face you, a fervid look on his face that made your legs quiver and push together to accommodate the feeling growing in between your thighs.

“Why were you so adamant about not coming training with us?”

“I was… busy.”

His body got closer to you, closer and closer, regardless of how many steps back you were taking, regardless of the fact that you made every effort to get away from his presence that overwhelmed your every sense, clouded your every critical thought and replaced it with a blabbering mess of heightened emotion and need. You gasped loudly when your back hit the trunk of a tree and you realised there was nowhere to go anymore. No place to hide, nothing to do but deal with it, with him.

“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”

His beautiful aureate eyes were fixed on your face, an ardent, hungry look haunting them, haunting you. Your knees were weak and wobbly, cowering under the weight of his presence, under the weight of the lust washing over you. His hands raised to your face, and the rough calloused feel of his fingertips made you pant, made you fantasise about how they would feel against other parts of you that desperately craved attention.

What are you doing? This is wrong. This is so wrong.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

You knew as his face was closing in on yours that you were doomed, that you didn’t have it in you to stop him, that you didn’t want to stop him. You knew that this kiss would mark a point of no return, a path of illicit affairs and unspeakable secrets, and that nothing could ever take it back, but you didn’t care. You wanted to know what it felt like, to be wanted, to be owned, to feel special.

His lips were nothing like his hands, instead they felt feathery and soft, and he tasted sweet, like a ripened fruit or like a child’s laughter. The kiss was hungry and needy, like you were, and your lips were brushing over each other, devouring any ounce of sanity still left in you as his tongue trailed over your lips and into your mouth, and you welcomed him with your own, allowing yourself to taste him, allowing him to taste you, to explore you.

“I want you. I want you so badly, I want you to know what you do to me. I want to show you what you deserve.”

He broke the kiss to place new, wet ones along your jaw and down your neck, and your couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and the way your head threw back, chest heaving at the sensation, at his maddening words. His lips were roaming your body, licking and sucking and biting on every inch of your torso and abdomen, like he was uncovering uncharted territory and wanted to know every secret within it. He knelt in front of you as he reached your hips, and you found yourself using the very limited amount of critical thinking you still had to push his head away from where you knew he was headed, from where you desperately wanted him, from where you knew he couldn’t be.

“No. We can’t. This is wrong.”

“Yes. Yes, we can. You can, and you should. You should see what you’re missing out on by being promised to him. Let me show you how good it can be. How good I can make you feel.”

He tightened his hand around one of your thighs and plopped it on his shoulder and then wrapped his fingers in the waistband of your loincloth, untying it easily. You groaned as the breeze hit your now uncovered core and shut your eyes tightly when the sight made Neteyam let out a wild, throaty moan that made you feral.

“Look at that. You’re already ready for me. You’re dripping wet, that’s how badly you want this. How can something that feels this good ever be wrong?”

You were a hyperventilating mess as his face got so close to your folds, you could feel his warm breath on you. A kiss is all it took for you to melt under his touch, for all reason to leave your being, every memory of your promised mate erased from your mind, like he never existed. Like nothing ever existed outside of this man, outside of the feelings he evoked in you. He pushed his tongue inside of you and you pushed out unintelligible noises, that got louder the harder he thrusted in you, the more his lips moved fluidly and skilfully on you, sucking and biting until the pleasure was coiling inside of you like a spring ready to give out at any blow of the wind. His tongue was swiftly replaced with a finger, and the foreign sensation made you squeeze your legs together as you discovered it, as you revelled in it.

“You’re taking it so well, baby girl. So well. Think you can do one more finger?”

You had no words, no words could be formulated in your state, so you just nodded aggressively, bucking your hips against him and he chuckled.

“So needy. Needy for my fingers, huh?”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he retracted his middle finger and pushed it back in, adding the ring finger, until he reached a spot that made you scream out, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“That’s it, that’s the spot. Feel good? You like being fingered, you like my mouth on this needy cunt, huh?”

His words made you a mewling mess, and you felt the pressure in your core build up and you knew it was building up towards a release that would take everything out you, that would ruin you, just like he was ruining you.

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers. I want to see you come, I want to taste your cum on my tongue, baby girl. Come for me. Show me how good I make you feel.”

His tongue found his way back to your clit, licking and sucking while maintaining an unrelenting pace of his fingers and with little warning, your orgasm washed over you like a rogue wave in the middle of an ocean of pleasure, overtaking you, drowning you in him, in this feeling you never wanted to end.

He smirked as he got up and kissed you, and you loved the taste of yourself on him, loved it in all its unholy, nefarious, sinful glory. His thumb brushed your lips as he spoke.

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.”

He walked away without looking at you.

“Sleep well.”

pt. 2? maybe? maybe not?

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ataraxiaspainting · 8 months

Text

Yan Phantom Troupe + Hisoka + Illumi / Darling Asking “What Am I To You?”.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, implied violence, not SFW implications for Hisoka because he’s a creep (and a mention of M*lluki in Illumi’s section I’m sorry for your loss) and also for Nobunaga because he’s bleh, Nobunaga threatens to take out your teeth for biting him it's up to you whether or not to believe him, and manipulation.

Word Count: 4.5k. (literally how lmao)

*~*~*~*

Chrollo

“Hm…” The sound goes on for much longer than what you would have liked or at the very most could handle without sneering, the crescendo in his voice rising and rising like tulips sprouting from soil. “Hm…”

His tone was barely a whisper at first, but it soon evolved like some hideous, god-forsaken species outcasted to a deserted island or planet. If you did not have your forks and knives taken away for trying to pick and cut off the cuff and chain attached to your ankle, a consequence from last week’s horribly executed escape attempt, you would threaten to stab your eardrums if he didn’t actually answer your question. But part of you thinks that he would only find it funny, and simply hum for twice as long as he has already planned to. Or would he be petty about it, and a second cuff and chain will appear on your ankle along with having your only friend, a silver spoon, taken away? With Chrollo, you do not think you will ever be able to fully tell.

“Please answer me,” You decide on responding with a musical note of your own, a drone. It seems to be the safest option, all things considered. You stare at the soup in front of you instead of at him, playing with the idea of counting the precisely cut vegetables and small rings of pasta. You would have entertained the thought of throwing the boiling bowl at him, but you now know that his speed is beyond what you could ever hope to achieve.

You would never get that far, would you?

You would have to wait until he is gone for the time being to even be able to step on the welcome rug by the door. You managed to convince him to finally buy you hairpins yesterday, and they are safely tucked away in the corner of the table next to your side of the bed, hidden underneath a pile of neatly folded silk pajamas until further notice.

“Well, what do you think you are to me?” He asks, brushing his foot against yours underneath the dining table. It takes everything in you not to move your chair away. That would only make things worse, wouldn’t it? Or would this just further make him see you as an adorable little thing because he knows you would not get that far, not with the cuff and chain on your ankle and the several locks on the door and him here right in front of you?

Again, you cannot tell. When can you ever? Could anyone ever read him, you wonder?

His porcelain dish is already empty, with but a few drops of red broth and a few herbs swirling about. He moves his chair forward and gently grabs your hand, his thumb massaging circles into your palm. You don’t know whether or not to answer his question.

This life is like a torturous game of chess, and you aren’t a player at all. It is up to Chrollo to decide whether or not you are worthy of being a pawn or queen or king, and where you go.

Is this all you will ever be?

His fingers rise to your cheek as he stands up, the touch so light it is hard to decipher the intentions of it. Comfort? Ownership? A statement?

Without thinking, you shut your eyes and lean into it. You coo. You coo like a dove, a baby bird, something so small and fragile in the face of a predator that wants nothing more than to take off its wings so it can never fly away. Perhaps the predator in question is the parent of the chick, never wanting it to leave the nest and explore the big, scary world.

Is this all you ever will be? A helpless, silly little thing stuck way up high with no way down, something cute and small that needs to be protected and cared for because they cannot take care of themselves?

You finally look up at him and he leans in then. He coos back at you, and you want to go back to closing your eyes and trying to stop hearing whatever he will say as a response to your refusal to answer. But you can’t.

So, you think of an answer, something that would make him happy but also not have you speak too long because you don’t want to speak at all. You just want this to be over with, you just want Chrollo to for once respond to your question instead of rebutting with one of his own.

You don’t have a choice, as always.

“Something to possess,” Your voice is soft and hoarse because you never use it aside from when you cry. “Something… someone to keep for your pleasure and your pleasure alone.” He coos again. It is sweet and sticky and latching onto you like thick honey or candy.

“You’re halfway there.” There is an unspoken praise in the air, one so nectarous it’s suffocating and you almost can't breathe. It is like Chrollo’s hands are on your throat, squeezing and squeezing until you pop like a balloon. There is no escape.

He turns and gets his fingers off your face, but the feeling of freedom is quickly taken away by the sound of Chrollo’s footsteps approaching you.

“I suppose I see you as both above and below me at the same time.” He says. You want to run but he’ll catch you in no time before you could even execute the idea.

He is behind you now, grabbing your arms and tugging as your chair squeals and squeaks like a lamb cornered by one who will soon sell its tender meat. You want to scream like one because you too are cornered by someone who will never let you out of here alive.

One of his hands smoothly moves up like you are a violin, lightly pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You just hope there is no encore after this. You hope that in the future there are no such things and that he will just answer your questions and be done with it, but that is so foolish of you, isn’t it?

“You are human and have humanity,” He murmurs, his eyes wider and more intense than you ever had seen them before. “And I would love nothing more than to steal that away.”

Nobunaga

“You’re so silly, you know that?” You recognize the rhetorical nature of the question and choose not to answer. This causes Nobunaga to toy with the thigh-high socks he insisted you wear after returning from another day of thievery.

Every time you tried to express yourself verbally, you were met with a laugh, a gentle touch, an embrace, a peck, or... something far more dreadful than any of those gestures. You preferred to steer clear of that type of affectionate act for as long as you could, even if it meant just a few days. It would be a noteworthy achievement. Of course, Nobunaga's libido would never wane, as he shows no mercy unintentionally to you and intentionally to anyone else in his life.

The way your food is placed on pink plastic plates with little sections of where to put vegetables and where to put a small dessert for a job well done of eating all the food, which is always raw or burnt to a crisp. The pastel frilly clothes you’re forced to wear always show too much skin. The threat to remove most of your teeth if you bite him again. The way he keeps touching your thighs, pinching and groaning and-

Nobunaga never answers your question, resuming to hand-feed you some severely undercooked cookies he baked himself. Well, you scooped the dough at least, and that’s the most you’ll ever do in the kitchen while you are held captive.

Still, raw cookie dough is better than burnt in your opinion.

Just like delusional Nobunaga is much, much better than angry, heartbroken Nobunaga.

Your broken pointer and middle fingers are proof of that.

Feitan

“...”

He blinks; once, twice, thrice… and then you stop counting. It’s pointless anyhow, he is most likely not going to answer your question yet again.

As anticipated, Feitan walks away wordlessly, descending to his basement without a single step on the stairs being audible.

Just as you believe he has vanished, he creeps up from behind, clutching an object in his palms, causing you to nearly shriek. He would find amusement in that if you did. Whenever you engage in any action he deems foolish, he chuckles. It is the closest semblance of happiness you have witnessed from him, his snickering.

“...Here.”

With trembling hands, you accept the concealed object from his grasp.

“...Well?” Feitan asks, raising his eyebrow, his coat hiding what is most likely a smirk of some kind. “Like it?”

Huh? It's... a ring, from a fancy jewelry shop that you had been setting aside money for. This shop happened to be the priciest in the city you grew up in, with all of its items being highly sought after.

“I do.”

Happiness is like the rarest star in the universe to you now, and you will never let it go, now that you have it once again.

“...Glad.”

After a few moments of silence, Feitan is the one who speaks again as you stare at the jewel’s beauty.

“Do you want the finger that came with it?”

(machi, hisoka, phinks, shalnark, franklin, shizuku, pakunoda, bonolenov, uvogin, kortopi, and illumi under cut!)

Machi

Somehow, Machi’s posture becomes even more tense. But it does not stop her from still pouring the pot of instant ramen into your plate, though hers remains empty.

In silence, she puts some edamame, still cold from the fridge, on top, along with some spinach and carrots.

With her bare hand, she pulls out one of the soft-boiled eggs from the bowl of ice water, rolling it on the table until its shell cracks and she takes it off. She then, along with the egg and vegetables, puts some seaweed on top.

When you lean in closer to the utensil drawer, Machi opens it before you can.

She doesn’t ask you which chopsticks you want. She already knows your favorite one by now. The wooden ones with purple handles with white rabbits on them. Hers are plain.

She puts yours in one hand and your food in the other, walking to the kitchen table and putting both down. It’s winter now, and so she makes you drink tea nonstop and thus has a cup of it in front of your chair too.

“…Do you think I hate you?” Her voice, while still cold, has an emotion in it this time; worry. “I don’t, I really don’t. I promise you.” With that, she cracks the other boiled egg and puts it into her empty bowl. “I promise.”

You feel horrible for asking. You just wanted to know. You never know what she is thinking, that is why. But you feel horrible. Now she does too. Both of you, here, in silence, pondering whether or not the other despises you.

“I know, I just… wanted to make sure.” You don’t know if you are lying, and neither does she.

She takes good care of you. But she also ties you up when she has to leave, and one time she had to take out the syringes when you got too aggressive.

So what exactly are you to her?

Hisoka

Hisoka, still standing over your sitting form, puts his right hand on you, squeezing it just barely enough for it to sting.

“Aw, come on [First], lighten up.” If it were possible, with his words Hisoka grows twice as large as he was before he said anything. “I still have lots to teach you.” He chuckles as his long nails, sharp enough to be daggers or a ferocious beast’s teeth you think, dig further into your shoulder. The message is clear. You’ll never be rid of him, as much as you try to.

Even now, when you move to a secluded village on the other side of the country, for just the slightest chance he would leave you alone.

Your basket of berries and herbs is still next to you, a reward for all the foraging you did just before Hisoka showed up again.

“I did your leaf-in-water test already for you.” Just before you ran for the hills, you finally gave into Hisoka essentially begging you to test what kind of Nen user you are, claiming that you were now his pupil. “The water tasted sweet. I’m a Transmuter. That’s what you wanted to know. There is nothing else you can do for me, you know I am no fighter.”

Hisoka nods, and you think that this is it. Maybe he will finally leave you alone and you can go about your life without knowing anything else about Nen. But instead, Hisoka sits next to you on the grass.

He takes a berry from your basket and squeezes it between his fingers before it turns into a sticky mush.

It’s red.

“I know, but there are other things I can indeed teach you, can’t I?”

You don’t want to know what he means, you don’t want to know what he wants to do to you, but before you can stop him he is already on top of you, pushing you behind the bush you were picking rose petals from. You kick and scream at him to let go and cry, but he, as always, is so much stronger than you’ll ever be.

“This will hurt for a bit, but I promise you’ll feel very good, and you’ll want more.”

Phinks

Phinks stops pressing the buttons on the remote and stops reading the little synopsis on each of the shows he was thinking about watching with you, or each of the movies. You were not paying attention, instead looking at your fingers and playing with the dry skin by each nail.

He sets it aside, placing a hand on the back of his head and gently scratching. His gaze falls to the floor, and you follow suit.

He exudes nervousness. This comes as no surprise, as Phinks has always been one to shy away from openly displaying his romantic desires, as odd as it were to you when you were first brought here.

“Uh. Why do you ask? Isn’t… it kinda obvious? Um… you know I’m not exactly cut out for all this sappy bullshit… I… I… Um. Just… just forget it, okay? Just know that I see you as my partner… Wait, oh God, that sounds so bad…”

He keeps stuttering as he tries to explain everything. But, as funny as it would have been if you had known him outside of being your stalker and now current captor, his words only make you feel more hopeless.

Shalnark

He puts down his phone and stands up from his armchair. You’re in your pajamas, the fluffy pastel pink ones, standing in the doorway to Shalnark’s office area, where there are many computers and such on the walls and his large desk.

“Aw!” He murmurs, then gently pinches your cheeks upon approaching. He playfully rubs his nose against yours. Trying to distance yourself, instantly regretting seeking an answer of any sort from him, yet as always, his overpowering strength prevents any escape.

“C-Come on, Shal…” The nickname sometimes works when you ask for some dessert or a game of some kind, so maybe it will work in a situation like this too. “I wanna go to bed.” You nearly whine as he stretches your cheeks out further.

“But I still haven’t answered your question, sweetie!” He exclaims.

“F-Forget it.” You mutter, looking to the side. “It’s fine. Really. Get back to work.”

But he does not let go.

“Let me answer! Hmm… you’re so cute, like a kitten. You sure snuggle against me in bed like one!” Shalnark chuckles, and you can smell a mix of coffee and oranges in his breath. “So maybe… that’s the best analogy for it?” Some mint too. “Something to cuddle with? Something to keep safe.” He boops your nose. “Something too silly and adorable and airheaded to live on their own.”

You’re not sure if his words are supposed to hurt you or cheer you up.

“Yeah, I think something like that works!” After what seems like an endless amount of time, Shalnark releases his grasp on your face. “Just look at you.”

“O-Okay.” You murmur, turning away and attempting to make a beeline for the bedroom, regretting ever opening your mouth. “Sorry for asking. Good night-” Shalnark grabs your arm, making you stop moving before you even start.

“Come on, cutie! Spend some time with me. We can even play Wild World together again!”

He points to your 3DS, a rose gold color, and then to his, which is dark violet and covered in stickers referencing popular memes he saw on the internet. At least he has never made you see some particularly gruesome scene in the horror games he plays late at night out of impulse.

Franklin

As your words hang in the air, a silence so profound that you begin to question if he even registered your message, you find yourself fixating on your unfinished meal. Contemplating the merits and drawbacks of broaching the topic once more versus letting it go, you suddenly hear him put his cup of coffee down with a clatter as he almost slams it by accident.

“Where did this come from?” He asks. His tone almost seems concerned, you think, concerned for how you think of him when he is always so quiet or concerned for how you think he thinks of you, that one day he will simply not come back and find someone else more willing.

Franklin does not seem angry, not that he ever was. He is trying to appear neutral, to not scare you, like you were some sort of stray cat who he has yet to earn the trust of.

Though you don’t bite or scratch, you do hide from him.

“I… just want to know why you did all… this.”

Your eyes go everywhere, from the pots of plants he brought you recently by the barred windows to the blinking light above the stairs he promised to fix soon to Frank Herbert’s Dune laid across the couch next to your blanket.

“Franklin, since you claim to care about me… why can’t I go outside and be free?”

After a few more moments of silence, you look up at Franklin. He looks remorseful almost, from his visible frown to his eyes almost being closed to the way he does not look at you. Something akin to pity blooms in your chest.

“...Because unfortunately for both of us, I am… selfish, and you are too much for me to lose.”

Just like that, the pity dies similarly to the vase of flowers in the middle of the table.

Shizuku

You don’t know whether or not she will respond while knowing what you are and what she is. A captive. A captor. But you doubt it because every time she comes back she thinks you are here of your own volition and that you love her just as much as you know her.

Sometimes, you wish that you did, because whenever she sees you she looks at you like you were a gift that she had wanted for years.

Sometimes you wish that you did because that would make things oh so much easier for you. She sometimes forgets you are here, sometimes still goes to your actual home, and panics when she sees you are not there.

Shizuku merely chuckles, hugging you tighter. Perhaps she even forgot the slap she inflicted upon you earlier today for daring to say that you hate her, making you fly across the room.

“My love of course, silly!” Sometimes you hope that one day you will forget everything too because you envy Shizuku for never being cautious.

Pakunoda

“[First]...” Pakunoda’s eyes meet your own, one of her hands holding onto a chocolate-covered strawberry from the box she just got. Her other has a presence above one of your own, a presence so light you hardly recognize it is there.

She looks regretful and concerned.

The look fills you with so much guilt you immediately apologize and put the back of your head on her lap once again. It always works.

“You do know I care about you deeply, right, beloved?” Her long nails glide over your hair, making you close your eyes to calm yourself. You hope that look is gone because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take it before you break under its pressure fully. “I really do.”

You know she does, but it does not make the first days of your capture, which feels like an eternity ago, feel any less real, as much as Pakunoda denies the more horrifying parts of it all.

“I know, Paku.”

She smiles at the nickname.

The strawberry approaches your mouth, and you bite into it. Dark chocolate, you think this one is. Pakunoda loves her strawberries, but she loves parfaits just a little bit more. Maybe, to get her to forget your question, you can ask her to get some and feed them to her.

Soon, you fall asleep. Pakunoda opens her book back up after closing the box of sweets.

With one hand she caresses your hair, and in the other, she turns the pages of her novel. She loves evenings like this.

“I love you…” She murmurs, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “One day… you’ll love me too, fully, right?”

Half asleep, you agree without thinking. Once again, she smiles.

Bonolenov

With a sigh, he turns his head, momentarily interrupting your question. However, he quickly resumes dancing before you, delighting in your observation of his favorite pastime. Although you are unsure of the specific style of dance he is performing, you are confident that Bonolenov will soon enlighten you, taking the opportunity to boast about his expertise in this particular art form.

Listening to his animated explanations is always entertaining. His frequent rants make you feel as though he is a close friend rather than your captor if only that were true. Despite the circumstances, he treats you with kindness and respect. He believes that housing you in his home is an honor and privilege, a sentiment for which you hold some gratitude.

“A lover, because I do love you. You are simply wonderful to be around, after all.” In an alternate existence, were he not involved in criminal activities such as theft, kidnapping, stalking, and multiple murders, you might have developed an affection for him. This is due to your awareness of his deep affection for you and the kindness he exhibits towards you.

So you say such.

Bonolenov stays silent for a little while after that, along with the dancing that he often enjoys doing. Instead, he gazes through the windows, adorned with steel bars, and tenderly places small tokens that he knows bring you joy upon the table in the kitchen.

Uvogin

“Huh?”

Uvogin stops punching the claw machine, turning to you. It’s a mess, all because you said you wanted a corgi plush from it. But is it your fault, when you wanted to win it fair and square?

Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is. You know Uvogin is never one to have coins in his pockets. But, then again, he always seemed to have money when he was placing bets with Troupe members, especially with that Nobunaga person.

He seems confused, albeit he is hiding it behind a smirk. In one of his hands, covered in little shards of glass, is the stuffed animal you wanted.

“Come on, [First]!” He laughs, delusionally proud of himself. “I’m your boyfriend!” He wasn’t, but you would never voice that.

“...I-I know. But still… Do you like me?” You make an effort to convey your thoughts in the most diplomatic manner possible, being cautious not to provoke Uvogin's anger. Despite never having witnessed Uvogin's wrath, you remain steadfast in your desire to avoid it at all costs.

His smile widens.

“Of course I do!”

He presents you with the cuddly toy, having meticulously removed all the splinters of glass embedded within it.

“Do you really?” You ask, thinking of the time he threatened to break your legs if you ever attempted to run away from him again. He wasn’t even angry as he said the threat.

At another one of your questions, Uvogin says yes. But does he really? Or are you just something to hoard?

Do you really want to find out, you wonder?

Your heart tells you you don’t.

Kortopi

He turns his head, confused. It is one of the few expressions you can decipher from Kortopi because of the many strands of hair covering him. At the sight, you bow your head down.

He steps forward, and you step back.

He stops moving. So do you.

He retreats. You don’t speak for the rest of the day. You were used to it though. Kortopi hardly ever talks to you, but you don’t think he means it to be rude.

“Everything.” He mutters, standing above your bed. You sleep so peacefully, something you never were when you were awake. “You are everything.”

Illumi

Gently, he puts his teacup down with a little clatter of the saucer as he does so.

“Do you think I see you in a bad light, [First]?”

You simply look down at your teacup, smelling the lavender and chamomile to try to calm down a bit before answering Illumi.

The query has plagued your mind for an extended period. The exact duration remains elusive, as the days have merged into an indistinguishable blur. No matter your actions, pain will be inflicted upon you by someone, regardless of your conduct. Perhaps it will be Illumi's mother, administering a slightly sublethal, tasteless toxin with a syringe. Or it could be Illumi himself, subjecting you to days of confinement in a food and water-deprived closet. Regardless of your behavior, the inevitability of suffering looms.

With the intent of prolonging your exposure to the morning birdsong and granting yourself additional time in the garden, you opt to respond.

“N-No.” You lie. “You… keep me around to be molded into your perfect spouse, I know that, it is just… just…”

His smile sends chills down your spine, surpassing even the terror of Illumi's younger brother once launching into a lewd tirade about you in your presence.

“That is all there is to it; nothing more, nothing less.”

You sip the tea finally, and the burning sensation in your throat does not bother you anymore.

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iloveboysinred · 5 months

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Hiii, your keith hc where absolutely perfect, and I wanted to ask would it be able to get some fluffy hc or one-shot (whatever you prefer more) of keith kogane please ?, have a lovely day or night 💓💓

Hi anon! Thank you so much for your ask. I think i’ll make this a one shot if you dont mind, I’ve been writing lots of hcs lately and i’m already planning fluffy HCs for Keith to be posted later on this week! Hope you enjoy 💕

My home is with you[Keith Kogane]

Vld Keith x Gn reader

Synopsis: Keith has been gone for two weeks. You start to feel his absence, and the team feels it too. Soon enough, he comes back and takes you away to spend time with you in his own special way

Cw; fluffy Keith, brief and i mean briefff mention of intercourse. Sorta angst but not really? Just you being sad and missing Keith. Happy ending. Kinda lengthy i hope you dont mind. Not a lot of dialect!

Masterlist

To say you missed Keith was an understatement. Between saving conquered planets, keeping the castle stable, and even Keith’s marmora training, you had barely gotten the chance to really sit down and have a nice, quiet night with your boyfriend. Everything felt tense all the time. There was always a lingering sense of panic, never being able to fully relax while Zarkon, and now, Lotor still lurked. They were an ever present danger you never knew when they would strike next.

The one thing you missed the most about earth besides your family and friends was the sense of normalcy you once had. The routine you had set for your life. When you would come over to Keith’s house, an old, isolated and broken down shack in the desert, with creaky floors and dusty broken windows. The place needed some work, but that never mattered to you or Keith. The love that was brewing inside every single time you would pay him a visit is all you and Keith could care about. You missed the cool, quiet nights where you and Keith would sit on his roof, staring up at the very same constellations you’ve now flown by and seen up close. Talking about your dreams, sharing secrets. He would hold you close and you would kiss him, running your fingers through his dark hair, whispering soft words of affection to each other.

You loved waking up next to him after a night of passion, your body aching from the love you had made, every bite and mark on your skin fresh and still stinging. You would glance down at him, sleeping peacefully, hair a mess and adorning matching marks of his own, before getting up and fixing breakfast with whatever he had in the fridge, making a mental note to tell Shiro to take you grocery shopping for Keith later that day. While you cooked he would come up behind you, wearing an old, warn out pair of sweats, hair disheveled, eyes blinking tiredly, still low and half lidded from sleep, but he still looked as handsome as ever. You would sink into his embrace, swaying side to side as you tended to the food cooking on the stove.

Now you sat cold and alone in his room. You’d see Keith less and less as time went on, The Blade of Marmora taking up almost all his time. You understood how important this was to him, you were happy he found a group to belong to, and you know what he was doing was bigger than yourselves. But you’d also began to feel his absence, and it was taking its toll on you. You slept in his room and wore his clothes, those being the only comfort you had whenever Keith was gone for days, sometimes weeks on a mission. It was nothing compared to the feeling in your stomach when he would wrap his arms around you and bring you down to bed with him, the washed out smell of him on his clothes dulled in comparison to the lingering familiar scent of his shampoo, surrounding you every time he embraced you. Nothing could fill in for Keith, and everyone in the castle could see how much you missed him.

So when Keith came back to the castle (unbeknownst to you) Shiro sat him down to have a talk.

Shiro explained that he has known you for as long as he’s been taking care of him. He could tell you werent being yourself and he was concerned with Keith’s frequent absences. “The team needs you, Keith.” Shiro sighed, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “But Y/n needs you the most. You’re the only piece of home they’ve got. Try to be here some more. If not for Voltron then do it for them.” Keith nodded to himself, looking down in shame. He missed you too, but he had been so wrapped up with the Blades that he barely had time to worry about how he felt, or even about how you felt. Guilt fell in his stomach as if he’d swallowed a stone. “I know Shiro, i’m gonna make it up to them, and you guys. I promise.”

You had been sitting in the dining hall chit chatting with Allura and Lance when he came in, you didnt notice at first, picking at your food goo and nodding here and there when Lance would try to include you in the conversation. Keith took your lack of awareness as a chance to study you. Your hair was messily tossed into a hair tie, just as he always loved it, and you were wearing one of his plain black shirts. Keith felt a swell of emotion in his chest when he’d seen your face. Uninterested and blank, missing the spark he’d always search for. He could see from here how he’s impacted you, and his heart felt like it would shatter into a million pieces.

“And then i was like what the quiznak- oh hey Keith! Youre back” Lance chirped, exchanging a knowing look with Allura. But Keith didnt respond, his eyes locked with yours as you whipped around, eyebrows almost raising into your hairline. “Keith! You’re here!” You cried as you launched yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into him. Keith smiled wrapping his arms around you to steady you. “Yeah I am..sorry I was gone for so-“ you didnt let him finish, pressing your lips to his and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to meet you. You kissed sweetly, melting into each other.

You barely noticed Allura and Lance snickering at you while they exited the room. Too concerned with eating your boyfriend’s face to care about the teasing you’re probably going to deal with later. After a few moments Keith pulled away, he held your wrists gently in his as he looked into your eyes with all the love he had for you, smiling softly at you. “I missed you so much. All I could think about was you. I- I brought you this.” He handed you a necklace, a small dog tag with your initials carved in the thin piece of metal, the other side had a messy shape you assumed was supposed to be a heart. “I engraved it myself. I found it while we were on a stake out mission. I hope you like it” he sounded so shy and nervous, it made your heart swell with emotion as you handed it back to him. “Can you help me put it on?” “Yeah” you turned your back towards him, beaming as he clicked the hatch for the necklace into place, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “I love it baby, thank you” you turned back around to hold grab his hand, eagerly dragging him down the hall. “Cmon, I dont want to waste a second with you- i’m not gonna lie i’ve made a mess of your room but I hope you don’t mind!” “Actually, I want to take you out somewhere.” You stopped in your tracks and looked back at Keith. “Where?” “You’ll see it when we go. Cmon, put on a suit and meet me at the black lion’s hangar.” You nodded before walking into his room anyway, quickly getting changed and running down to meet him.

You held on to his seat as he took off, telling you to hold on tight as you flew out of the castle. You flew for about an hour, passing by vibrant planets and constellations. Pointing out meteors and stars as you passed by. Keith still wouldn’t tell you where you were going until you entered a big, green planet’s atmosphere. You looked over at him quizzically as you landed, the planet had nothing but short, green grass. You couldn’t hear the sounds of any creature or civilization. It was almost as if you were here completely alone. “Keith, where are we?” “This is planet Ogoria. Me and the blades made camp here when i was on that mission. It’s completely unhabited. & I brought you here to see something.” He explained, leading you off the black lion and into the open. “Cmon, lets find somewhere to sit.” Keith had brought with him a big blanket and two pillows, walking a few feet away from the lion before setting the blanket down on a particularly soft patch of grass. He threw the pillows on before sitting down. You followed suit, sitting down next to him, leaning into his body as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Look y/n, i’m really sorry i’ve been gone so much lately. The blades and I- well we’re getting close to finding something great” he muttered, glancing over at you. You looked away from him for a second, thinking over your next words. “ I know Keith. I’m not upset with you- I just miss how things used to be you know? I miss home. I miss our life together.” You sighed, gaze locked on your intertwined hands. “ I know, hun. I miss earth too. But we’re here now and we gotta try to make the best of it. This will be over sooner than we think. I feel it.” You looked up into his eyes, and he never looked so assured. You gave him a weak smile, scooting closer to him and pressing a peck to his lips. “Well, you’d better be right about that, Keith. Or i’ll drag us all back to Earth by force.” You giggled at the snort he let out, burrowing yourself deeper into his side, closing your eyes and relishing in his warmth.

“Y/n, look up at the sky”

You blinked your eyes open, having begun to nod off on Keith. When you looked up you let out a gasp. The sky was full of stars, it was as if the whole galaxy was displayed right In front of you in one place. “Keith its..its beautiful!” You whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the scenery. “I know its nothing like the roof back home, but i figured it’s pretty close.” You tore your gaze away just to meet his, your eyes shining. “Keith I- i dont know what to say…I mean this is incredible!” you saw him smile, glancing up at the stars himself. “Lets get comfortable.” You both leaned down, lying on the pillows and drinking in the sight before you in comfortable silence. “Y/n..” you turned to look at him, his eyes were soft, full of adoration as he looked you over, burning every feature on your face into his mind. “I love you.. thank you for sticking with me.” You brought your hand up to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you too Keith. I’ll always be with you, no matter what.” And so there you laid. Holding onto each other, catching up and telling each other dreams and secrets you harbored. It was nothing like how’d you been on Earth. But Keith made it special, and thats all that mattered to you.

Hopefully you enjoyed Anon! Thank you again for your submission. :> Notes and reblogs appreciated, asks and submissions welcome!! 💗💗

#vld keith #keith kogane fluff #vld keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #vld x reader #voltron x reader #voltron fluff #voltron legendary defender #❥iloveboysinred #{anonask ੈ✩‧₊˚ ฅ^. .^ฅ}#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚{𝕞𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪} ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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