maikuyoga

[tokidokifish]

garashir for ship asks!!!

HELL YEAH HERE WE GO TIME FOR SOME ~CONFESSIONS~

What made you ship it?

i don't know. listen - you may think i'm being oblique. but the fact is i heard about garashir LONG before i ever got into ds9, we're talking YEARS back; i can't even remember who i knew that shipped it, because it was just that long ago. i even tried reading a fanfic, though i can't remember what it was or even where it was, because this might have predated ao3. like even before i got into the show, something about that pairing Appealed To Me. and then, of course, i DID watch the show and Whoo Boy. i mean have you SEEN them interact. i think, honestly, what sealed the deal for me - what got be truly invested - was - well, for one thing, i tend to automatically rebel against relationships that the canon WANTS to happen; even if it's a relationship i end up liking it takes me a while to come around to it bc i'm so burned out on the vibe of "he was a guy, she was a girl, can i make it any more obvious?" that so many het romances get slapped with. i'm always looking for the characters that have the most chemistry (in my opinion) and goddamn call those bitches a science department because they have maybe the most chemistry of any two characters in that show. they challenge each other in the best way! and they just LIKE each other. what a novelty! i've got my fondness for the whole slap-slap-kiss trope, but god do shows and movies rely on it way too much these days, gag. so to have these two characters which, yeah, snip at each other sometimes, but very genuinely enjoy each other's company?? sublime. love it.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

well, i think i got into it a bit with the "they just like each other", but i think i especially like that garak liked julian right from the start. like oh, yeah, garak obviously had ulterior motives for approaching julian at first, but after that he just - continued to seek out his company! i've stated it a lot in my fics but just the fact that garak alone never seemed to find julian irritating when like everyone else on the station did, even if they came around to it - like i'm not one of those people that's like "the character you see yourself most in + the character you're most attracted to is your favorite pairing" bc i think it's bullshit, but as someone who is Very Annoying and is used to driving people away, oh god the idea of being just simply ACCEPTED by someone is like. a fuckin. drug. it's honestly probably the biggest reason i have trouble shipping julian with anyone else, even though i do enjoy his relationship with miles and i especially like writing him and kira becoming close in the later seasons. and, again, the fact that garak and julian do challenge each other, and they reflect one another in such interesting ways - and, of course, they are sooooooo normal about one another even in the context of a show that WASN'T writing them as romantically involved. 's good. 's a good ship.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

certainly it's not unpopular amongst the garashir girlies - but obviously i consider the idea that their relationship is at all "unhealthy" complete bullshit. like i made a whole post about it. genuinely i cannot even understand the mindset - other than, of course, because garak is a "bad man" (also something i disagree with, but whatever) he cannot have healthy relationships. he's "evil", so all of his relationships must be toxic. just lol. lmao, even. i think my most unpopular opinion is that i find it VERY hard to picture them hooking up early in the series and then having a relationship on the side. like it's not a deal-breaker in terms of fics, but just not my cup of tea, yanno? i think there's attraction and affection from the get, but i think PEAK garashir happens after ips/bil, and especially after dbip, when i feel like they'd've truly come to understand one another (as much as they need to, obviously; i think a big part of the garashir relationship is the idea that garak will always have secrets and julian is fine with that (is that why people think it's toxic?)). oh also i think people who shrink the age difference are cowards. they're both grown-ass adults! let them have their 20+ age gap! it's a charm point!

[oldiesstationlover11607]

🎶Hello, is it me you’re looking for?🎶

Salutations! It is I! 💛! Your favorite yellow emoji! I am sorry I haven’t requested anything recently. I just went to my show last night actually and so I’ve been busy prepping for that and traveling! It was amazing by the way! God it was like I dream! You’ll love it when you see them! Also, the last one shot was so cute and fluffy and I love it so much! When he gave the reader his shirt 😭!

Anyways, my request. At my show, Tyler made an innuendo on stage which inspired this. I was wondering if you could do a story where Tyler has a game where he tries to subtly flirt with the reader as many times as possible on stage. Maybe it could be talking, maybe it can just be him winking at her or something like that. Maybe after he does it one night, fans notice and they explode on twitter or something. Idk. I know this may be a stupid idea, but I felt like it could cute and fluffy if you want to try it! ☺️

P.S. Would you be willing to write for Spooky Jim (Josh’s blurryface persona)? I have possible ideas for that. To me, he’d just kinda be the same as Blurryface, just with Josh. But, you could see him differently (I’m sorry if you’ve written him before and I just didn’t see).

Flirt - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph × Reader

Warnings: Tyler flirting - innuendos, Tyler kissing the reader and being extra

Word Count: 1844 - I lowkey feel bad for these being short but it kinda fits the request prompt lol

A/N: Welcome back bestie 💛 anon! I hope you like this one - Tyler has been so unhinged lately it's been hilarious. I'm so glad you enjoyed your show, I can't wait for mine :) And YES of course I'm willing to write for Spooky Jim! I love Josh so much lol and I can imagine his blurryface persona being so much more heartbreaking considering Josh is such a sweetheart. I haven't written him yet but I'd can't wait to see your ideas!

It had come around to that part of the album cycle again where Tyler and Josh were on tour and for the first time since Tyler and I had gotten engaged, I was on tour with them. We were about halfway into the shows when we stopped in LA for a two night stay. Tyler had gotten up much earlier than I–as usual–to make sure everything was set up and to do a soundcheck before the show. We normally slept in after the late nights with Tyler getting up around 12:00 and I at 1:00 (although Tyler did make sure to bring me food when I was still in bed). After an afternoon of exploring the city, we made our way into the dressing room, waiting for fans to pile in. He scrolled through social media and did some vocal warm ups before sitting down on the couch with me. Josh was sitting in front of the mirror, mostly ready with the exception of his hair, which he was redying. 

“How’re you feeling?” I asked Tyler. 

“Pretty good. It’s gonna be a good show, I can feel it.” Tyler could always tell how the shows were going to go–even before getting onstage–and everyone else around him could tell exactly how he was feeling. He had a calm look on his face, as if he was reflecting on plans for the show. 

“How much time do we have?” Josh asked, leaning back from the mirror to look at the analogue clock hanging on the wall. 

“About thirty minutes I think,” Tyler said, chugging the Red Bull can he’d picked out from the mini fridge. 

“Where do you want me during the show?” I questioned, each venue having a different ‘best spot’ that Tyler wanted me ‘stationed at’. Last night it was higher up in the venue in a VIP section for friends and family, which was cool because he could see me the whole time. 

“Just off stage works best. Debby’s going to be under the stage to help Josh before routines so if you want to hang with her then that’s cool too,” he explained. 

“Yep, I think she’s preparing everything down there now with Mark,” Josh got up. “I’m going to go wash this out.” He pointed to his hair and walked into the hallway in the direction of the showers, leaving Tyler and I alone. As soon as Tyler was sure Josh couldn’t see he wrapped his arms around me  and dragged me onto his lap. 

“You look good today babe,” he smirked, looking me up and down. I could feel the warmth spreading through my face. He always found the best moments to make me blush with his words. I moved in closer so he was hugging me close, my chin resting on his shoulder. 

“You look better,” I laughed, ruffling his hair. He chuckled, pulling me even tighter against him. he nuzzled the side of my head and planted a soft kiss on my forehead, before continuing

“I don’t know if I agree with you on that one.” He was never one to back down from teasing. He continued to hold onto me, gently massaging your thighs as you sat on his lap. Josh walked back into the room, his hair dry and back to its bright red peekaboo color. 

“We should probably get you where you need to be,” I chucked, looking at the clock and climbing off Tyler’s lap. He pouted, reaching his arms out and making grabby hands in my direction. “Come on.” I grasped his hand and pulled him up next to me–his hand staying intertwined with me even after he got up. We walked out of the dressing room and out into the hallway where the boys would usually split up. They hugged, patting each other on the back and smiling. 

“Have a good show,” I smiled, waving goodbye to Josh and following Tyler to the right side entrance. He held my hand as he followed behind the security guard, the sound of screaming fans pouring in through the walls. Tyler smiled widely, his expression practically screaming excitement and adrenaline. As soon as the guard opened the door the noise in the room multiplied, the room filled with screams and cheers, making it hard to even think. He held my hand tightly as he followed the guard, the room around us slowly shifting from the dim hallways to the bright stage being lit by lights and strobe. He stopped just off stage, taking a few breaths before he turned and faced you, his smile still beaming. 

“I love you,” I smiled. He pressed his lips to mine, cupping my jaw and slipping his tongue just inside my mouth. Something was different about him, like he had some sort of agenda or something to prove to me. He pulled back after a short while, gently biting my bottom lip as the music started playing. 

“I love you too,” he smirked, running onto the stage and turning on his celebrity persona. Tyler bounced through his first few songs, running around the stage and acting like his usual self. He was clearly high on adrenaline, with his brain focused on making sure the show ran smoothly. He made his way to the mic at the center of the stage for the talking break. As he began, he made direct eye contact with me, sending a cheeky smile my way. “Is everyone having a good time?” he shouted into the mic and pointed out to the sea of people who screamed back at him. “I can’t hear you. Scream louder for me!” He waved his arms in the air to the entire audience who screamed louder than before. “There you go,” he looked off stage at me and smirked knowing full well what he was doing. After a few more songs he moved to different parts of the arena for Ride where he was planning on getting people to sing the choruses with him. I had decided to sit under the stage with Debby who was watching, helping Josh to get changed for the next song. “Where’s my right side daddy?” I could hear Tyler shout through the speakers. My jaw dropped. 

“No fucking way.” 

Josh laughed under his breath, looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Yep.” As each chorus went by I nodded my head along to the beat and Tyler’s voice. 

“This is not happening,” I covered my eyes. 

“It so is,” Debby laughed, helping Josh into his jacket. The song continued until Tyler got to the last chorus, in the pit. 

“Oh my pit children, you need a daddy too,” Tyler’s voice moaned slightly making my knees go weak. He needed to stop this or it wasn’t going to end well for either of us. Debby was keeled over in laughter and I was mortified. This wasn’t happening. By the time they’d finished Paladin Strait and come off stage before the encore he’d continued to make suggestive jokes. Little did anyone know that each of his little jokes was perfectly aimed at me and as every one landed I got more and more worked up and embarrassed. Running offstage, Josh went straight to Debby and Tyler to I. My arms were crossed as he stood in front of me with a large and proud smirk slapped onto his face. 

“What?” he shrugged, taking a drink of water and jumping on the spot. 

“You know what,” I scoffed, clenching my fists and biting my lip to hide the smile I could feel coming on. I was terrible at being mad at people and Tyler always managed to unleash the happy side of me in the middle of every argument we’d ever had. 

“Yeah I do,” he kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair. With my brows furrowed I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting to let him go. As he rested his chin on the top of my head everything around us disappeared. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as the smell of sweat and Red Bull poured from his pores. I didn’t care though, he was mine and he’d been driving me insane for the last hour and a half. Fans continued to scream as the end of the Paladin Strait music video played and Josh appeared next to us. I let Tyler go as the intro for Jumpsuit started playing. Josh ran back on stage to his drum kit but Tyler paused on the stairs looking at me. I shot him a wave and he mouthed the words ‘I love you,’ pressing his hands against his heart, ‘I know,’ I mouthed back with a short roll of my eyes before he bounced back on stage. I stood there, heart pounding, watching him take command of the stage once more, his voice raw and powerful as he sang the opening lines. The lights pulsed in sync with the music, and the crowd, already hyped, seemed to reach a new level of frenzy. I could see him glancing my way, just for a moment, every now and then. It was subtle, but after the stunts he'd pulled earlier in the set, I was more than aware. He was still playing his little game, flirting with me in front of thousands of people who had no idea the winks and smirks were meant for me. As the song ended, Tyler paused at the mic again, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“You guys are incredible tonight!” he shouted, and the crowd roared in response. He turned slightly toward the side of the stage where I stood, his eyes glinting mischievously under the lights. “But there's someone over here who’s got me feeling... extra good tonight,” he teased, his voice dropping a little lower. I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. The audience, completely oblivious, ate it up, screaming and cheering at the implication. Twitter was going to be in shambles after this. He’d never been this bold on stage before, not with me watching from the sidelines. And I knew for a fact the fans would pick up on it. There was no way they wouldn’t. When they finished playing Trees and saying goodbye to everyone, Tyler ran off stage, completely drenched in sweat and buzzing with post-show energy. He didn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around me, spinning me around in a tight hug. “How’d I do?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear, still catching his breath from the performance. I smacked him lightly on the chest, still smiling despite myself. 

“You’re impossible. You know that?” He grinned, leaning down to kiss me softly. 

“I only did it because I love you.” His smirk returned. “And because I love seeing you squirm like a bug.”

I shoved him playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait till Twitter gets a hold of this.” Tyler chuckled, pulling me close again. 

“Let them talk.” His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “You’re the only one I care about, anyway.”

//

Requests open!

[star--joy]

Inspire

Vex doesn't understand why Percy keeps giving her arrows, but she's sure there's some ulterior motive to the whole ordeal.

-

Prompt: “You really inspire me.” (creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/673924497584291840)

-

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Arguments

Words: 1644

Originally posted: 8/11/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49274167

The first arrow was a simple thing.

Well, that’s not true. The first arrow was complex in construction, delicate and complicated enough that it kept Percy tinkering for weeks. Crafting one that explodes upon impact is no small feat. In that way, it hadn’t been simple at all.

Perhaps a better way to phrase it is this: the first arrow was nothing important.

Yes, Vex was pleased to have such a weapon at her disposal, and yes, she was flattered that Percy spent so much time creating it, but that was it. A small gift between friends.

Except not much time passed before the second arrow was presented to her. Similar to the first, but more fine-tuned, according to Percy.

Well, fine. Vex can handle that. She knows how their gunslinger likes to perfect his inventions, to improve them until they can’t be anymore. That’s what she’d assumed it was. He’d simply wanted to create it for his own benefit.

The third arrow, yet another advancement, was considered the same.

Sometime around the fourth one, however, Vex hears a warning bell sound off in a deep corner of her mind.

“It’s a siege arrow,” Percy explains, ignorant to her sudden caution as he hands her the weapon. “Maybe now we’ll have more luck getting through doors.”

“Indeed,” she hums, testing the feel and weight of it, though her mind is elsewhere. “Thank you, Percy. I have to say, you’ve been spoiling me with all these gifts.”

The unspoken question of why hangs over her head, but apparently, it goes unheard to the gunslinger. He just grins. “Yes, well. I do hope you enjoy them.”

And then, just like that, he’d walks away. Vex watches his retreating form, lip caught between her teeth, before retreating back to her room for a night’s rest. Sleep does not come easy as she ponders the motives of his kindness.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh arrows come and go, each one sparking more confusion in Vex. Barely a week ever goes by without a new creation finding its way into her hands, and a part of her is going mad with it. If he wants something so desperately, why doesn’t he just come out and ask? Percy never struck her as particularly manipulative, at least to his friends, so why the fuck is he desperately trying to suck up to her?

Perhaps he had done something terrible, and this is his way of apologizing. Yet even then, Vex can’t figure out what he might have done to warrant such profuse gifting.

Well, she’s done with it. No more beating around the bush. Steps firm and steady, she finds herself marching down to his workshop, fully intending to put this whole ordeal to an end.

Percy meets her halfway down the stairs, another fucking arrow in his hands. “Oh, Vex, I was just about to come find you,” he says.

Vex looks down at the arrow in his hands, looks up at his proud expression, then grabs him by the collar of his soot-covered work shirt and drags him down into the workshop once more. Percy yelps. “What in the hells—?”

“What are you playing at?” Vex demands, all her careful composure thrown out with the force of her frustration. “What’s the goal here? And don’t lie to me, Percival. I’m not in the mood.”

Slowly, he reaches up to fix his shirt collar from where Vex had snatched it. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Have I done something?”

“You know what I’m talking about! What do you want? Money, is that it? You want me to be looser with your funds? Fucking— fine! Here,” she snarls, unclipping her personal coin purse and chucking it at his feet. The anger coursing through her is more potent than it’s been in years, boiling her very blood in a way that’s almost alarming. Percy has no right to play her for a fool. Vex thought he’d respected her more than that, but apparently she was wrong, and it fucking hurts.

Percy stares at the coin purse on the ground, mouth open and eyes wide. “Vex, I— are you alright?” He’s stepping closer, arrow still in hand but long-forgotten. 

“I’m fine. Take your money. And next time, just ask. Don’t play these games with me.” Her voice is wavering and she hates it, hates how much she cares.

“What in Pelor’s name are you talking about?!” he asks, sounding so genuinely baffled that it gives her pause. Then, “Vex’ahlia… Vex, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Teeth grinding together, Vex snaps, “The fucking arrows, Percy! I don’t appreciate your bribery.”

Percy looks at her, looks at the arrow in his hand, looks at the coin pouch on the ground. His face twists, but not with guilt or anger. Instead, he just adopts the expression of a kicked puppy, all furrows and pouted lips. “Bribery? That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“You’re denying it?” Vex asks, arms crossing over her chest as if that could shield her from the way his sadness is wringing her heart.

His mouth opens and closes several times. Slowly, he picks up the coin purse and hands it back to her. “I apologise. I hadn’t realised that you— that I was giving that impression.”

Vex twitches. She couldn’t have been wrong. What other reason would he have to be so fucking kind to her? And, Gods above, if she is wrong, then why is he handling it like this? “What impression were you trying to give, then?”

Percy’s hand ruffles through his hair. When he speaks, it’s little more than a murmur. “It’s— I spent a long time creating things out of anger, Vex. Horrible things that I had no right to invent.” It’s clear that each of his words is chosen with a great deal of thought. He won’t look at her.

Stepping forward, Vex lets her hands uncross from her chest and fall to her side. “So, what, is this some kind of penance? Your way of apologizing?”

His jaw flexes. “No. It’s more selfish than that, I’m afraid. I… when I made the things I did, the firearms, I was inspired by rage. When I make arrows for you, it’s different. Rage isn’t my inspiration.”

“What is?” she asks, breath held.

He looks up at her, all gentle and sad. “You are. You really inspire me to create something better. To be something better.”

Oh.

Vex swallows, breaking his gaze to stare at the arrow in his hand. Her heart withers with guilt as the reality of the situation sinks in. Gods, she’d been screaming at him, accusing him of such terrible things, when his whole motivation was that? “I’m— Fuck, I’m such a dick. I’m sorry,” she whispers, burying her face in her hands.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have been more clear with my intentions—”

“Shut up, you did nothing wrong. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I assumed—”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Vex’ahlia,” Percy interjects, voice still quiet, but with a firm, passionate undertone. His footsteps approach, and then his hands are gently pulling hers away from her face, exposing her distressed expression. “Of all people, I understand not knowing what to do with kindness.”

Vex breathes in, inhaling his unique scent of soap and metal. He’s very close, and she feels utterly exposed to his eyes, but it’s not such a horrible feeling when he understands. “Percy… do you still want to make the arrows? I understand if you don’t, but… I really do love them.”

His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll make as many as you want.”

And then, somehow, their lips are connecting. Vex doesn’t who leaned in for the kiss first, or if they were both in sync, but either way, it’s wonderful. Soft and slow, like nothing she’s ever experienced.

Her hand finds purchase on the back of his neck, idly stroking through the baby hairs there, smiling against his lips when he melts into her touch. His own hand is on the small of her back, holding her close to him, thumb rubbing mindless patterns.

“That was…” Percy whispers when they finally break apart for air, coming to rest their foreheads together. “Wonderful.”

Vex laughs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Agreed. Do you think you can pull yourself away from the workshop for the rest of the day? I would like to spend some time apologizing for… everything. I really am sorry.”

“I’ve already forgiven you, Vex.”

“I’d still like to make it up to you. However you like. Besides, I’m not exactly getting the short end of the stick here, darling. Your company is a lovely bonus.”

Percy’s throat bobs. “I would enjoy a dinner with you, if you’re offering. But I don’t want you to do it as a payment, or an apology.”

Vex sighs, pushing through her instincts in order to be honest, peel back some of her armor, exposing her vulnerable underside. “That’s not what this is. Not in your case, anyway. I… I care for you, Percy, and I am going to keep apologizing for a little while, because I feel really fucking bad. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t also enjoy a dinner together. Genuinely”

His smile is radiant as he leans down to kiss her once more, if briefly. “Alright. I’ll ask Laina to cook something for us. There’s not much privacy to be had in the dining room, but we’ll make do—”

“Oh, don’t be silly. My room is big enough for us both. Meet me there with the food, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting,” Vex hums, pressing one last teasing kiss to the corner of Percy’s lips, quite enjoying his blush as she flutters out of his workshop. 

She’s sure of one thing: this is going to be a lovely dinner.

[aerodaltonimperial]

Deranged head canon/prompt: Hook has been trolling Danhausen’s whatnot livestreams (or some other type) for months under a fake name asking Danhausen questions about himself. "Where is Hook?" "Are you and Hook still friends?" "Are you mad at Hook?" "Why don't you care about Hook anymore?" "How do you feel about Hook tagging with Jungle Boy?"

And Danhausen is just NOT touching those with a ten foot pole... until he does.

In my head, I have, like, half a dozen ways this one could go!

[OH MY FUCKING GOD BITCH THIS IS AMAZING i kind of spit-balled this into... idk something]

Obviously, Hook stopped texting Danhausen around September, when D stopped responding. Which is why he has resorted to this, signing onto Danhausen's WhatNot stream under a girl-based username. He just wants an answer so he knows what happened and why, and Danhausen never replies to any of his questions.

Because D always does these on the road, rather than home, Hook ends up having to tune in while they are on location in hotel rooms a lot of the time. He runs down to the lobby halfway through one in early December (still getting no answers) to collect his DoorDash and runs into JB. He's got his phone on, making noise still, so he doesn't miss anything, and he doesn't have any way to disguise or explain it. And since he's so fucking lonely, and he doesn't have a stable, and he doesn't even have friends, he ends up sort of exploding and telling JB everything back in his hotel room. He's never even really spoken to JB before, but well, all that's gotta go somewhere.

This is why Hook goes out to save JB when the Firm attacks. And after he does that, JB spins the idea that they should start tagging officially because it might make Danhausen jealous. Hook doesn't think this will work, since the guy has ignored him for months, but he's surprised when the end of December rolls around and it starts to work. Danhausen starts talking about him again. He gives a few answers when Hook floats questions in on WhatNot streams. He's so fucking ecstatic that he's finally getting somewhere.

Except the Firm just won't leave him alone now, since he's involved himself? And the whole tag partner thing, which was supposed to be spun into something useful, has started to feel heavily like JB is way more invested than Hook thought he would be? And now he doesn't know what to do, because JB's starting to hint at things, and the Firm literally won't go away, and Danhausen just suffered multiple head bumps and the last time that happened...things went badly.

As weird, cryptic lyrics start to go up on D's Instagram again, Hook spins into panic mode because everything has veered wildly out of his control. It's 2 AM, and they're in another hotel, and Hook's so afraid that the next time the Very Evil part comes out, it won't be as easy to absorb back in, so he pulls his phone out and texts him: i know u wont answer but please call me.

[wolfkitty42]

i had the weirdest dream crossover

So like, the Owl House finale aired recently. Right??? And on the night it aired (last night as of writing this) I only got there about halfway through the finale. So I went to bed after it finished with a strong intent of watching the new episode when I woke up.

That was a mistake.

So basically, I had an insane dream that told me there were two new episodes instead of one. One was the finale, and the other was utter insanity. The one that was utter insanity and purely from my dream was placed before the finale, when the gang was on the Boiling Isles. 

I’m not entirely sure why, but Julieta from Encanto was there. She had a large ship and described herself as an animal tamer working with what looked like a 3d model of Gus’s dad. Like I said, my dream gave me a crossover. Okay. This is still relatively normal for a dream.

So, Julieta was like “You guys need something to fight Belos? Well there’s a really big seal out there if you wanna go use it as a weapon.” and Luz was like “Yeah okay sounds legit, get to the pirate ship!” Then there was this shot from above of the sun rising as Luz and co sailed towards a mountain island. And also for some reason there were a lot of airships following them. Like yeah there’s hot air balloon ships in the show but why here??? I just remember there being a lot. AND MOST OF THEM DIDN’T EVEN SHOW UP LATER??? Regardless, Luz and co was still on a boat in the water. Julieta was flying an airship.

So, everyone landed at the mountain. And there was a really big  baby seal just there. It was cute. 

(Image above fits it pretty well)

But it was also like, causing mass destruction around. So Julieta was like “Guys, we need to give it a sedative before we can bring it back to the Boiling Isles.” And everyone was like okay! So they grabbed this sleeping powder thingymabob and started trying to get it into the seal’s nose. But the seal was big so it was far off the ground and it was also moving around a lot. Cue a montage of Luz and her buds trying to slap it in while my dream gets fuzzy for a moment.

Everyone was taking turns trying to do it. Then fucking Sans Undertale came out and was like “hey let me try” BECAUSE APPARENTLY SANS UT HAD BEEN IN ONE OF THE FLYING BOATS?!?!?! AND ALSO PAPYRUS!?!?!? AND ALSO FELL SANS????

(These ones should be much easier to find images of then that specific cute seal. You can google them yourself.)

But I quickly. Accepted this. I tried My best to understand it. The logic of my dream had already moved on past my processing stage. So, I watched as Sans  did literally nothing except accidently breathe in the sleeping powder and conk out. Or he just felt like sleeping. No clue.

At this, Papyrus got really annoyed. He ran to the side of the mountain, pushed open a gray door (which coincidently did not look like the mystery man door, it was much less detailed. just felt the need to clarify that gaster did not appear in this dream.) and ran inside it to his house. He ran upstairs to his room and to his desk, which was now in front of a window.

His desk had sleeping power on it and this is the part where my brain just exploded and starting spitting out nonsense. I don’t even know where Luz went anymore guys! Papyrus took over the dream!?!?!?!

Anyways, Papyrus fucking snorted the sleeping powder off his desk, reverse snorted it onto a piece of paper and ran back outside. When he ran down the stairs to leave his house you could see the lower half of his house was now filled with sleeping powder and/or snow. If you slowed down the frame and zoomed in on the left part of the frame you might have seen the Annoying Dog jumping through the drifts of ambiguous white stuff. (I’m being completely real here, my brain slowed it down the second time and zoomed in on it. Send help.)

So after that minor bout of insanity, Papyrus floated up and slapped the powder in the seal’s face. I think he can fly, so that... makes... sense...? 

After that, I think Fell Sans tried to do something too but he must’ve failed because he was like “aw heck. now it’s just down to time sans.”

.............................WHO IS TIME SANS?

Now, the first thing I did when I woke up was go to google Time Sans. I haven’t even watched the part of the TOH finale I missed, guys! THIS DREAM INSANITY TOOK PRIORITY. And researching through google did give me some results, but none that matched my dream.

Time Sans was only called that about once. My dream also referred to him as Clock or most commonly Old Hour. I’m guessing Old Hour was his actual name or something and Time Sans was more of an obligatory title so that I would know who they were. Old Hour wore a suit with some nice shoes. They also had a cane and a tophat. I would say he was pretty short, and he had a monocle. I may draw him soon. 

If ANY Undertale fans feel like they recognize this description, PLEASE contact me! I am desperately trying to figure out if my brain spawned an au Sans purely for this strange crossover dream or if I subconsciously was thinking of another au that I repressed memories of and can’t find on google. Help.

Old Hour got up to fight the seal and for a moment it looked like he was going to fight it. There was a really dramatic shot of him running, and then the seal sneezed. It blew away Old Hour’s tophat and monocle so they were basically just Sans in a suit. (But still very fancy.) Old Hour got up and sat down by the door in the mountain to Sans and Papyrus’s house after that. He just wasn’t feeling up to it :(

After that, Luz, Eda and co busted in. They used a sleep mist so the seal went to sleep. I remember Luz turning towards the camera viewpoint I was watching my dream from, saying “The Boiling Isles is saved!” before a cut to black.

Now, eagle eyed viewers may have spotted a strange passage earlier. Let me copy paste it here.

If you slowed down the frame and zoomed in on the left part of the frame you might have seen the Annoying Dog jumping through the drifts of ambiguous white stuff. (I’m being completely real here, my brain slowed it down the second time and zoomed in on it. Send help.)

Yes, my brain was treating this like an actual episode of a show I was watching. It made me sit through this dream TWICE to catch all the easter eggs.

So, I’m recovering now. if you got through all this text, good job! Maybe I’ll even draw Old Hour/Time Sans for ya! Or maybe I’ll never remember this dream again. Thanks for reading! For now, I gotta go watch the Owl House finale.

[kawaii-kitsune]

allegations about your reputation (dabi x f!reader)

summary. having trapped you, dabi decides to have some fun with you. inspired by this post @some-messed-up-writing-for-you

tags/warnings. smut, afab reader, dubcon, implied temperature play, oral (m!receiving), size kink, unprotected sex, corruption if you squint, creampie, unedited/not proofread so expect errors

word count. 1.4k

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

You were in some dark, dirty warehouse that seemed uninhabited except for you and the patchwork-faced villain before you. You could hear the metropolitan activities of cars honking, sirens blaring, and people arguing from outside, and if your mind wasn't paying tricks on you, the villain's slow breathing. You felt a chill in your sheer-clothed legs despite the scattered torches that burned blue with what you've deduced is from the villain's quirk.

But what was even more chilling was the villain's flame-blue stare. It reminded you of Endeavor's eyes on TV, but without the sense of security. This villain's eyes, though the brightest you've ever seen, made you nervous. And though you would not have admitted it then, excited even.

"W-what, what is this place?" you nervously blurted out. "W-what do you want from me? Where am I?"

The villain smirked and placed his hands on the arms of his chair. "Curious, are you?"

"W-why did you take me here? Who are you actually?"

"You don't stop asking questions," he scoffed, momentarily breaking his gaze from you.

"What do you want from me?"

"You already asked that," he said, bringing back his malicious smirk. "I'm Dabi, by the way."

Dabi. You've never heard of him on the news, nor have you ever seen him. You were sure his was a face you would remember.

He seemed to be observing you, and he seemed to be amused by you. Your body trembled more and more under his stare. The part that scared you the most was that you weren't just scared, but flustered. Despite Dabi's unconventional features, he was quite handsome, especially with that unusually charming smirk. Your attraction to this mysterious stranger is what got you in this predicament in the first place, and curse it for not going away.

"Now, what's your name, doll?"

"Y-Y/N," you answered meekly.

"Y/N," Dabi purred in amusement, crossing one leg over the other in his chair. "Would you get on your knees for me?"

You gulped nervously but nodded nonetheless. "O-Of course, Master."

Dabi grinned. "Show me."

Slowly, you obeyed him. Your bare knees felt the cold floor, making you shiver. From above you, Dabi's stare turned more sinister, his glowing eyes consuming you in your new position.

"Crawl."

Though hesitant, you followed his order, crawling slowly while keeping nervous eye contact. His eyes raked up and down your body, lingering a moment too long on your clothed chest.

When you reached him, he held your face with cold fingers that turned hot. You winced and felt your heart beat faster at his touch. His eyes still burned through you.

"Are you afraid, Y/N?"

If the recent events didn't scare you, his question sure did, and so did his thumb that was now caressing your parted lip.

"I... I..." you couldn't answer.

Dabi grinned again. "Or perhaps," he pressed your bottom lip with his thumb, "excited."

Your eyes widened and your heart felt like it would explode out of your humble body. You tried to look anywhere but his eyes, but you instead caught sight of the sizable bulge in his pants.

You could not look away. You physically couldn't. He took notice and slipped his thumb halfway into your mouth.

"You're staring, doll," he mocked. "And you're drooling on my thumb. Tell me, Y/N," he cooed, tightening his grip on your face and bringing your attention back to his eyes. "Should I keep my thumb here?" He pushed the rest of his thumb in. "Or do you want something else in your mouth?"

Muffled by his thumb, you managed, "I... I want... something else," you answered to no one's surprised.

Dabi grinned his widest. "Then what are you waiting for?"

He yanked his thumb out of your mouth, pulling a string of your saliva with it. You brought your gaze back to his crotch. Your hands lingered on him before you slowly unzipped his pants.

Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. His bulge should've warned you, but his size intimidated you. You swallowed your fear and got to work.

You started by kissing his tip, then licking around it. Dabi grew impatient and gently pushed your head down on his cock. You bobbed your head up and down, your lips sucking him tight and your tongue flat against his shaft.

Your lips felt stretched out and your jaw ached, but you kept going, earning dark groans from him. His large hand stayed gentle on your head, until his groans got louder and his cock got warmer. He grabbed your hair, halting your movements.

Not ready to let go of his cock, you lifted your head slowly, savoring the taste of his precum. You met his eyes again, finding them paired with his villainous smirk.

"Not bad," he said with a lower voice, "but it's time we move one step further."

He pulled you by your hair, forcing you to stand then walk with him. He pushed you onto your back on the cold metal of a nearby table, making you squeal. He got on top of you, breathing down your face and your neck. Your body and the table under you felt warmer.

"You put on a nice outfit," he said as he ripped your stockings from your legs. "As if you wanted to give me easy access." After playing with your skirt, his fingers played with your clothed crotch, making you pant heavily.

"I'm not surprised," he teased. "You're already wet."

You hid your face in your hands.

"You're a shy one, aren't you?" He pulled down your underwear and lifted your skirt. "There's no use being shy now, Y/N."

He teased up and down your cunt with the head of his cock, touching your clit and making you whimper. You felt his tip at your entrance, making you gasp.

"It's time I put this cunt to good use."

And he entered you. He stretched you inch by inch, letting you feel every vein and detail. Once he was all the way in, you were moaning. You felt so stretched, so full, like you were going to break apart. You felt his cock throb inside you, and you felt the pleasure in your sensitive walls.

"Fuck, it feels even better than your mouth."

He wasted no time, fucking you at a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, groaning at how your soft walls sucked him in and the sight of your disheveled body under him.

You moaned and whined as his cock abused your sensitive spot with every hard thrust, yelling every obscenity there was. The pleasure was incredible. No one has ever fucked you this good, and it was all you could think about. You were barely even aware that his hands were groping all over your body, ruining your clothes and your dignity. Your head was empty except for the fact that his cock was making you feel so fucking good, that you wanted him to ruin you and fuck you harder and claim you as his.

After more groping and more torturous thrusts against your sweet spot, you felt yourself reaching the edge.

"Dabi," you moaned, followed by strings of yes and oh fuck and load moans. Dabi knew you were close. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Dabi please," you begged, "cum inside me, please."

He grinned at your plea. He thrust into you harder and faster, answering your plea. Your moans became louder and more frantic. You felt the coil in you about to snap.

Under his cold stare, you came hard around his cock. You couldn't remember ever cumming so hard in your life before, and your body shook as he kept going with his merciless thrusts.

Not long after, he released ropes of his scalding seed inside you, filling you up. He stayed inside you, not letting a drop of his cum escape.

After he pulled out of you, he couldn't help admire the sight under him. You were a panting, writhing mess with messed up clothes, a few bruises from his hands, and a fucked-out face.

Dabi smiled once again knowing he has absolutely ruined you.

[forever-rogue]

Douse the Lights

A/N: I have no excuse for this, except I love one (1) Din Djarin and he deserves this and so do we. Enjoy! A little Happy New Year gift from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) - oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV, choking, degradation, creampie...filth. This is just filth. 

STUTTER SOMETHING PROFOUND (PART 2)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-���♡　————-««

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop kriffing staring at me.”

“I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

“You,” with a sharp turn of your head you saw that he wasn’t even near you. Nope. Not at all. 

Kriff. Awkward.

“Lothcat got your tongue, Princess?” you’d never seen his face, but Maker, you just knew there was a wicked smirk on it.

“Just mind your own business,” stowing away your clean blasters with a huff, you prayed with all your might that he couldn’t see the flush of warmth on your face or hear the crack in your voice. You hated him. Everything about him.

At least you wanted to; you would have given anything in the galaxy to. It would make constantly being around the Mandalorian that you called your employer a lot easier. 

Maybe if you kept repeating it yourself, you would manifest it to become true. That you could hate that annoying, half-witted, tin can. 

“Thought that’s what I was doing,” there was the most minute inkling of amusement in his voice as he came over, lithe and silent - ever the hunter. He was at your side in an instant, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the cool metal of the beskar as he sent shivers up and down your spine. Along with the low pooling of heat and desire settling in your belly, but you were going to ignore that for now.

Almost as if he knew the effect he had on you, he made it a point to brush a gloved hand over yours as he nudged you to the side to inspect some of the weapons he’d tasked you with cleaning. You had to be quick in order to shut your mouth and keep a small whimper from escaping your lips. 

How long had it been since someone last touched you? Maker, it had been….dank farrik. It had been way too long. A simple hand brush - there wasn’t even skin to skin contact - and you felt like a lothcat in heat. You really needed to get...some company and have your frustrations taken out or surely you would explode. There was no way you were to give Mando the satisfaction of knowing the type of hold he seemed to possess over you. 

Perhaps once you were out of this more than awkward conversation you could slip out for a few hours and seek some pleasure. The little one had just gone down for a nap a short bit ago, and he was likely to be out for some time. Surely he wouldn’t have a problem for a few hours. Then you could -

“These are still dirty,” was his voice always that rough and low? He had to be doing it on purpose, surely. Before you could contemplate it too much, he took one of the blasters and shoved it back into your hands. Not rough or gentle, but with enough firmness to remind that he was in charge. You looked it over and raised your eyebrows as you inspected it yourself - it was polished to an almost pristine shine, “clean them again. All of them.”

“What the fuck, Mando,” you scoffed with indignation as you rolled your eyes at him, shoving the blaster right into of the black T of his visor. You waved it almost as if to prove your point, “this is clean. I dare you to find a cleaner blaster in this Maker forsaken galaxy.”

He was quick to your grab your wrist, his grip was firm as he kept your hand from moving. You didn’t normally argue with your stoic and mysterious employer, but this was apparently new and uncharted territory. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a shift between the two of you, something had changed. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the dullest of knives as you stared back at him. 

“Clean it again,” it was a growl that went straight to your cunt as you subconsciously clenched your thighs at the sound. Either this was a one time deal that you would commit to memory or you were going to make it a point to annoy him more often. As he stared you down, he slowly let go of your wrist and pointed at the discarded cleaning rag, “and make sure its actually clean this time.”

“You are the worst,” you tried to retain the little bit of composure that you had remaining as you swiped the blaster back.

“And you are a brat,” brat. Brat. Brat. Brat. Of all the words available in all of the galaxy, he had to choose that one. This was absolutely on purpose. The Mandalorian never did anything without careful planning and calculating the risks. The same could be said with his words; this was all carefully and deliberately chosen. He cocked his head to the side, almost as if trying to gauge your reaction, “but here we are. Get them clean.”

“Or what?” it was a mere pathetic squeak as found yourself almost unable to meet his face.

“Just get it done.”

Without another word he strode away, as silent and dangerous as he was when he first came in. If you were stronger, if you weren’t a weak little fool, you would have looked away and focused on your work. 

But no. Not today.

Instead you watched him go, staring shamelessly at his imposing figure as he moved to disappear back into the cockpit to do whatever it was that he did. 

Was his ass always that nice? Were those thighs always so strong and sturdy? Was he always so damn broad and wide? 

Shit. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you hissed at yourself as you picked the rag back up and slammed yourself back down on the bench in order to re-clean all the weapons that you had just done. He wanted clean weapons? You’d give him the cleanest blasters he’d ever seen. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost an hour had crept by when you’d finished your second round of cleaning. At this point you honestly didn’t care if the Mandalorian deemed the job satisfactory or not. The longer you had ruminated on his words, the more frustrated you became. 

Each word, each touch seemed burned into your mind as you let your imagination take over. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him before. There had been a number of sleepless nights when you imagined it had been his hand between your thighs, his fingers running through your slick folds before they slipped inside of you. On nights when you really couldn't help yourself, you even imagined it was his cock, how he would feel buried to the hilt inside of you. You wondered what he would be like, but something - this day in particular - told that he was big. And he would get the job done.

But it wasn’t going to happen. 

Nope. No. Nah. You were just his sidekick little employee that most definitely was not going to act on any impulsive or rash decisions. You might have been a lot of things, including a huge fool in that moment, but you weren’t that stupid. You didn’t need to create some unnecessary strain in your relationship with the stoic warrior or even worse, lose your job and home and be left stranded in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. 

Even as you tried to rationalize all the ways in which acting on your impulses was a horrible idea, the frustration and the throbbing between your legs didn't wane. You were getting so desperate and pathetically needy that you sat on the edge of your small bench just at the angle so you could get a little bit of friction on your clit. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

As you rocked back and forth, trying to keep the little mewls and whines from slipping past your lips, you realized you couldn't do this.

You couldn't risk getting caught by the Mandalorian. Oh yes, everything's fine, just getting myself off. Don't worry, I'm super horny because of you. Yeah of course I'd love your cock.

Yeah. Cool, cool, cool. This would never happen. 

Just when you before you reached your breaking point and had your hands halfway to your soaked core, you stopped. 

"Kriff," you sighed to yourself as you pulled your hand back out and stood up. What the actual fuck had gotten into you? A few commanding words you were completely losing your control. Either you were desperate for a release from something other than your own hand or you craved the mysterious Mandalorian. 

Hastily stashing the impeccably clean blasters back into the weapons cache, you discarded the rag as you quickly came up with a plan. 

Tiptoeing quietly back to where the little one was sleeping, you sneaked a peek and saw that he was still fast asleep. He wouldn't even notice you were gone - that's what you tried to convince yourself as you delicately touched his soft ears and button nose. 

You weren't sure if you were speaking of the Mandalorian or the baby. At this point you really didn't care. 

You glanced back at the ladder towards the cockpit, watching almost as if you expected him to come down and catch you sneaking out. Hells, technically he'd know as soon as you left the ship. You scrawled a quick note telling him that you needed a cleaner or something, in your haste you couldn't even remember what you put, and would need to go to the market.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was totally plausible, you insisted to calm your own nerves as you slipped on your boots and a cloak before making your final decision to leave. Attempting to be as quiet and subtle as possible, you slowly made your way off the Crest and started scurrying towards the nearby desolate town of Mos Eisley. In reality you looked more like a scrap rat scurrying away from the light than a woman heading into town to find something. 

Whatever.

Mos Eisley wasn’t exactly known for its sparkling reputation, and you were sure you could get exactly what you wanted quickly enough. In and out, you thought to yourself as a flush rose in your check, well precisely that. For at least you were hoping. 

But the Mandalorian, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for a reason, and didn’t miss a single trick. He was aware of what you were doing before you even left the cargo hold. If he was this frustrated and turned on you by you, his cock hard and straining against the confines of his pants, he was sure you must have been in the same position. 

Oh, but he had been close to breaking, just like you. How easy it would have been to seal the hatch to the cockpit and relieve himself of the desire and ache. But no - just like you he had limits and wasn’t about to give in and stroke his hard cock while you were within earshot. No matter times he had imagined it - fucking your mouth or burying himself deep between your luscious heat before pounding you into oblivion, he wasn’t going to give in this easily. 

He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but with your little backtalk and the way you had looked at him with those wide doe eyes and pretty pouted lips sure had him feeling like one. The thought of burying himself inside you, to watch as you bounced on his cock with your tits in his face was enough to make up his mind. 

One time couldn’t hurt, right? People had casual encounters all the time.Why should this one be any different? If you were willing of course, although judging by how your pupils had dilated with each word from his mouth, had little doubt you felt the same way; but consent of course was key. 

And tomorrow? You’d be back to being the same way you had always been.

Hopefully. Maybe. Probably.

Fuck.

This was a bad idea, and the small, sensible part remaining in his brain told him so. But he was too far in, too deep and lost in his own desires to stop himself. 

He was watched as you ran away, deciding to wait until you were halfway to Mos Eisley before going after you. He’d take the kid to Pelli, sure she’d more than happy to watch him for the night. The rest? That was to be all consumed by you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The old cantina was dirty, dingy, and smelly. There was no doubt in your mind it must have been at least a decade since it was cleaned, and yet it still remained a hot spot; granted not for those of politer society, but enough to get the job down.  You pushed that to the back of your mind as you clambered through the crowd and to the bar, sitting down next to a handsome Zabrak you had spied when you’d walked in. You’d never been with one his kind before, but you’d heard rumors of them, especially when it came to their prowess behind closed doors, and something within you was piqued. 

He must have sensed something was up - as soon as you sat down, he motioned for the bartender to come back and bring the two of you a new round. 

“You’re new here,” he said gruffly, a dangerous edge to his voice, sharp like a knife as he took one of the luminescent drinks and shoved the other towards you.

Before you could even move to grab your drink or utter so much as a word in response, a hand darted and quickly grabbed your wrist, the grip biting and firm. 

“She’s mine,” the words washed over you before you could even turn to look at the Mandalorian. His chest was rising and falling heavy as his visor was trained on your would be companion for the night. A shudder ran up your spine as he pulled you off the stool, the two men glaring at each wordlessly. 

He pulled you behind him, storming out of the cantina as the crowds parted at the sight of the gleaming silver beskar. They knew better than to stand in the way of the Mandalorian. You felt like a child being scolded as he refused to acknowledge you, keeping his gaze trained straight as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. 

“What the hell, Mando?” your question was an indignant shout as your voice climbed an octave. His grip didn’t waver for a moment as he grunted in his response. Oh, he was mad. Yup. Definitely. You had fucked up. 

Any thought of talking back or prodding him further were estopped as you could see him fuming as he dragged your ass back to the Crest. 

This was it, you realized. This was the end where he would fire you and send you packing. Of all the places in the galaxy to be stranded, Tatooine was not one of your top destinations. No one to blame but yourself, you reckoned. 

Instead you hung your head as he refused to look back, making quick work of opening the cargo hold and shoving you inside. There was something about his touch that was rough, almost sending you falling to your ass, but there was still an odd gentleness.

You stared back at the blank visor in challenge, attempting to figure out what was going on. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared back at you. Neither of you were about to get a good read on each other. 

“Did you really think it was a good idea to just walk away without saying anything?” his voice was dangerously low as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with either a smart response or an excuse but instead of anything coherent, it was a mixture of the two. Great. Now he's going to think you were an idiot on top of everything else. 

“I didn’t...just um...doesn’t matter what you...I needed something from the market?” you swallowed the lump on your throat as you dropped your gaze to the floor. He sighed for a moment - heavily - as you’d come to know was his penchant to do. 

“You needed something from the market?” it wasn’t a question so much as an accusation.

“Mhmm.”

“What was it?”

“C-cleaner,” you lied. Somehow it sounded better than saying yeah, I really just wanted a quick fuck because you have me feeling some type of way. 

“There's a new cleaner right in the cabinet,” he said as you internally groaned. He was right - there was a brand new gleaming bottle on the top shelf. He’d gotten some last week, “or did you conveniently forget that?”

“Umm,” you couldn’t get anything else out as he took a step closer and left minimal distance between your bodies. He reached up and put a hand under your chin, turning your face up to meet his, “uh huh.”

“Uh huh, honey,” his voice warmed you up from inside out as you gave him an innocent look. If he hadn’t known what he was doing earlier, he certainly did now. And he was going to milk every second of it, to push this as far as it would go. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a subconscious gesture, but not unnoticed by the Mandalorian. His hand slipped from your chin and jaw and slid until he was gently holding your throat. His grip was light, and he was barely squeezing, but Maker, you wished he was, “is that really what you were going to do?”

“Y-yeah,” how much longer were you going to keep up this little facade? You had no clue. But the feel of his hand around your airway, pushing slightly, ever so slightly, had your mind positively reeling.

“Then why did you go to that filthy old cantina?” he leaned closer, his helmet mere inches from your face as you closed your eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you the heat pooled in your belly, “why were you talking to Zabrak? Did you really think he was going to fuck you? To make you feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you managed to murmur after a few beats of silence as you realized what was happening. This was new, uncharted territory - for the both of you - and if you went any further, there would be no going back. And you - fuck it. Your eyes snapped open as you turned to look into the visor, right where his eyes would be, “needed someone to do it, since you never would.” 

And there it was - finally out in the open and hanging thickly between the two of you. All you could ever was a small huff from under the helmet and you were positive he was smirking like a victorious predator.

“Is that what you want, honey?” he asked and you nodded. Give and take and then...it all broke, “get on your knees. Now.”

And you wasted no time sinking onto the cool metal floor, now level with his cock, where you could see the hardness straining against his rough fabric. Shaky fingers worked to hastily pop the button and pull the zipper, but just before you could get to what you wanted, Din roughly grabbed jaw, turning your face up to his, “you take what I give. Yeah?”

“Yes,” you promised, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each word. But then, with another gentle tap to your chin, he seemed almost...gentle, “Mando?”

“If you don’t want this, just say stop,” he waited for you to nod as you a sense of warmth fluttered over you at his desire for consent, “I will not be gentle, I will not-”

“Give it to me then,” you beamed at him before turning back to his cock and pulling out of his underwear. You almost moaned at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking already; and just as your little fantasies had led you to believe, he was more than adequate. 

Spitting into your palm, you took him in your hand, pumping him a few times before licking the head, just small light licks, just enough to tease. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you played with his balls for a moment, earning what you were sure was a small groan from under the helmet. Making it a point to draw it out, you shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand went to the back of your head as he pushed you onto his cock. 

A sound of surprise was muffled by his cock as you took all of him into your mouth, doing your best not to gag as he hit the back of your throat and your nose brushed against the soft curls of hair at his base. Your hands slid up his thighs and found purchase on his hips as he began to fuck your mouth. He started slowly at first, almost as if he was afraid to give too much. When you grew accustomed to him, making it a point to hollow your cheeks and suck him as best as you could, he picked up the pace. And it was brutal in all the best ways, spit was starting to run down your chin along with a few tears that had spilled over, but if nothing else, it worked to spur him on. 

“Look at you,” he grunted between thrusts as he took in the sight in front of him, “take me so well. Knew your big mouth had to be good for something. Always wanted to fuck that pretty face.”

You hummed in delight as you raked your nails over the exposed slivers of his skin on his hips, golden and delicious and you wanted it all. His thrusts slowly become more erratic and sloppy as he twitched in your mouth. His hand dropped from the back of your head as you took over and put a hand back on his shaft as you worked to finish him off. 

Soon enough he did, followed by an almost primal growl as he came, his hot, thick, cum coating your mouth and you eagerly swallowed all that he offered, which unsurprisingly, was a lot. As his breathing slowed down and he slowly came down from the rush of his high, you pulled back from him, looking up at him with innocent eyes and a wicked smile. You cleaned him off, but just as you went to wipe at your mouth, his gloved hand was faster and he collected the spit and cum that had spilled out and pushed it back into your mouth with two fingers. You grabbed his wrist and made a show of sucking his fingers clean, tasting him along with the worn leather of his gloves. 

“Good girl,” he praised before hoisting you to your feet, “strip.”

“What about you?” you turned your head to the side, but he shook his head in response. He paused for a moment, almost as if he was having second thoughts, but just quickly, he whipped off his gloves and tossed them onto the floor before putting a hand on your cheek and stroking it tenderly. You swallowed thickly before nodding and working to pull off your clothes. 

First was your shirt, tugging slowly over your chest and tossed down to join the gloves. Your arm went to your back as you tugged off your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders as an almost nervous breath escaped your lips. 

“Keep going,” he commanded, eyes trained slowly on you as he drank in the sight of you. You undid your own zipper and pulled your pants and panties down in one fluid motion before kicking them off along with your boots and socks. You’d never felt more vulnerable or exposed in that moment, wanting to cover up but also relishing in the fact that you seemed to have rendered the Mandalorian speechless. He looked you up down, not bothering to hide the fact as he looked at your form, glancing at your soft mound before your breasts and then landing back on your face.

Beckoning for you to come closer with a simple crook of his fingers, you did so, standing directly in front of him. His hand flitted from your cheek and down your body before resting at the apex of your thighs. You gasped lightly in surprise as he dragged his fingers through your soaked folds, coating them in your copious arousal, before chuckling darkly. A hand immediately went to his shoulder as you steadied yourself and tried not to completely lose it at the simple touch, “all of this for me, honey?”

“Mhmm,” you admitted as he gently rubbed over your clit, teasingly in the slowest, most tantalizing way possible. Before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “always think about you. Always get so wet.”

He made a small, noncommittal sound as he pulled his fingers away from your wetness and brought them to your lips. He tapped your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, sucked his fingers clean from your own arousal, “I’ve thought about fucking you too. That mouth, that pussy. You’re such a brat, but you drive me crazy.”

“I like when you get mad,” you said as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, “‘s sexy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice deeper and lower than ever before, and you felt your knees start to buckle at the sheer sex it exuded, He brought his large, warm hands to your tits, touching over your pebbled nipples as you bit back a moan. While you wished it his mouth on them instead, this touch was just as well, as he massaged them, trying to get a good feel of them and seeing what drew out those sweet mewls from you. But before you could enjoy it too much, one hand gripped your waist like a vice and the other went between your legs. He ran his thick fingers through your folds, before slowly inserting one into your wet heat. You moaned as he slowly inserted another and then a third, stuffing you full and already having you seeing stars in no time, “make yourself cum.”

“What?” your eyes snapped open as he stilled his actions, “you’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he lightly teased your clit, eyes boring into yours, “you act like a brat and you want to cum? You have to work for it.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned as he moved to pull his hand away, as if to show you just how serious he was. This time, you caught his wrist and held him in place. He chuckled lightly in triumph as one of your hands returned to his shoulder for balance and the other went to play with your sensitive bundle of nerves. He held completely still, a practiced and patient man, as he made you work for it. He wasn’t kidding by any means when he said he would not be gentle. 

He remained quiet, watching your pretty face shift through a range of expressions as you worked to reach your own high. He was glad for the helmet, for if you had been watching him, you’d have seen the tinge of pink rising in his cheeks as the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d envisioned this many times, no doubt about that, but he’d never thought it would become a reality. Maker, you were gorgeous as you thrust onto his hand using him for your own pleasure a string of gentle filth spilled from your lips as you rubbed slow circles onto your clit.

“Mandooo,” it was soft as you felt that familiar blinding haze start to take over you, and your toes involuntarily curled and your cunt started to clench around his fingers. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as your vision turned blurry and that familiar warmth started to spread all over your limbs. He felt his cock twitch from where he had tucked himself back in after you’d pleasured him. Before you could finish though, something different met your ears.

“Din,” he said as bit your lip in order to keep from crying out completely, “my name is Din.”

And there it was. Completely unexpected and out of the blue. It wasn’t just a name - no it was so much more than it. It was a sign of trust, of closeness, of the fact that whatever this little situation was, it was neither the first or only time something like this would happen. No, your story with Mando may have come to an abrupt end, but your relationship with Din was just beginning.

It was almost as his name, uttered softly and almost unsurely, was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge as you came around his fingers. A soft moan left your lips along with the sweetest sound he was sure he’d ever heard, “Din.”

A merciful man when he chose to be, he took over for you and worked you through your orgasm as you almost collapsed into his arms, “there you are pretty girl. You did so well, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

“Not enough,” you rested your against the soft cowl of his neck as he pulled his hand from you, but not before slapping your ass a few times, almost as if testing to see how far he could push you. You made a few sounds of delight at the sting, only spurring him on as he slapped and then gently needed the ample flesh of your backside, “please, need you to fuck me.”

“Is that what you need, pretty girl?” he purred in your ear as he pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, taking in the already blissed out expression on your features, “you want me to fuck you? Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you were practically ready to beg at this point, “I’ve been wanting it for so long.”

At your words, he almost dragged you to the small bed that was reserved for you in the corner and motioned for you to sit. You watched with eager eyes as he scrambled for the waistband of his pants and hastily pulled them down and kicked them off, letting them join your discarded clothes. He practically ripped off the rest of the beskar until he was bared in front of you, save for the helmet. His cock was already painfully hard again, standing at attention and leaking fat drops of precum.

“Can I trust you?” he asked as you nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. You’d never questioned the fact that you’d never seen his face or that he apparently just never showed it to anyone. You respected him and his decisions, and you’d never dare to push the envelope or destroy his trust. 

“Always,” you promised as he walked over to the wall and hit the switch for lights, cloaking the room in darkness. You sucked in a breath before you heard him shuffling about and the beskar helmet clanged against the metal floor. He stood in front of you, you could feel his breathing as he touched your cheek before wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Hands and knees,” he instructed with a delicious rasp, made even better by the lack of filtering from the vocoder of his helmet, “now.”

The singular word was enough to send a fresh rush of arousal through your veins, as you laid on your belly on the small cot before positioning yourself so your ass was in the air. He shuffled behind you, his large hands grazing over the soft flesh of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart before dragging a thick finger through your soaked folds. A small sound of pleasure rippled through your throat as you clutched onto the thin, scratchy blanket of the bed, “please.”

“Quiet,” it was harsh and biting as  the palm of his hand slapped your ass, the sting delicious and leaving you wanting more, “you like that, don’t you? You like being spanked, pretty girl.”

“Only by y-y-you,” before you could say anything, he slapped your ass a few more times before kneading the soft flesh to make sure the sting wasn’t too painful. 

Mando - no, Din - shifted his weight and you could feel him line himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds. A moan escaped your lips - and his - as he slowly pushed into you, giving you a brief moment to adjust to his considerable size. The stretch was amazing, the slight burn quickly turned into pleasure and you felt full, so completely full. He groaned as he bottomed out, already feeling pussy dumb by the way your velvet walls hugged him, “this - kriff - this pussy is perfect. Just like it was made for me.”

“Din,” you buried your face in your pillow as he pulled out, slowly, before thrusting sharply back into you. He was not lying when he said that he would not be gentle. His large, warm hands went to your hips as he held them in a bruising grip. You were sure you’d bear his marks for days. 

He set a bruising pace, thrusting into you with no mercy as he slammed his hips into yours. There was nothing gentle or intimate about, no - this was months and months of pent up frustration and desire coming out all at once. Din was not a talkative man, but as he fucked you into oblivion, he was whispering strings of filth and praise into your ears. All you could do was lie there as he pounded into you, so lost in your own pleasure as you became a whining mess under him.

Before he came, his arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. One large hand went to play with your breasts as the other went to your clit as he rubbed and circled at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your mouth hung open in a blissful haze as he kept going, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your skin and shoulder, alternating between nipping and sucking and making sure to leave plenty of marks so everyone knew you were his. 

“Look at you, pretty girl,” he grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so well. You love this don’t you? Getting used like this.”

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip as he kept going, kept abusing your spent pussy as he started to stutter in his thrusts, “‘m so close, please, wanna come.”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” he commanded as you nodded, “and I’m going to fill you up and make sure you know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” you insisted as you felt your walls clench around him and his cock start to twitch, “only yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised as he turned your head to place a rough kiss on your lips. It was the sheer act of the moment and feel of his stubble that sent you over the edge and cumming all over him. You were like jello in his arms as he held you up, giving you a few more thrusts before spilling inside and coating your walls with his cum, “ahh - fuck - so fucking good. Maker, you feel like no other. Perfect pussy - just for me.”

He held you tightly against his body as he caught his breath, the two of you breathing in sync. You thought he might pull away immediately, but instead, he pressed more kisses, chaste compared to your previous actions, down your back as he slowly lowered you onto the bed. You couldn’t even form words as you laid there, cockdumb and already feeling his arousal along with your own dripping onto your thigh. 

“You did good,” he praised gently before reaching between your legs and scooping up some of his cum that had started dripping out. You whimpered at the touch, still sensitive, and listened as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Din gently flipped you onto your back so you were lying face up and exposed to him. He sat between your legs and slowly spread them apart, admiring his handy work. He leaned back before climbing off the small and getting on his knees, pulling you towards his face. Just as you had gotten on your knees for him, he kneeled only for you. 

“Din,” you sighed contentedly as he kissed along your inner thighs, working his way back to your dripping heat. He nuzzled his nose against you, taking a moment to take it all in, “already so much."

"Come on, honey," his voice was like liquid gold as he reached up and touched your breasts, cupping them easily in his large hands, "you've got another one in you. I know you do. Aren't you a good girl?"

"Mhmm," you arched into his touch as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. How this infuriating man got you to become a pile of mush in his hands you'd never know, but you definitely weren't going to question it. He leaned up and kissed your hips before burying his face between your legs, "I'm your good girl."

And with those words, he licked a long stripe up your soaked folds, still soaked from your combined juices. His nose, which you presumed was aquiline in nature, nudged your clit as he ate you like a starving man. You were the shining prize, glimmering in the distance, and he was the wrecked man crossing the desert to get to you.

This time you didn't even bother to hold back as you mewled and cried, tears of pleasure and overstimulation welling up at the corners of your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. Din hummed in content as he licked and suckled at you, making sure to focus on your clit as you came completely undone.

Reaching down, you carded a hand through his locks - curls - as you pressed his face against your aching core. You could practically feel him smirking against you as he slipped a few fingers inside to join his ministrations. Expertly curling his thick fingers, he quickly found the sweet spot that made your toes curls and you see stars.

"Almost there," he grinned as he gave you a moment of reprieve before diving right back in, "I can feel that perfect cunt squeezing around me. Taste so good, pretty girl."

"D-Din," his name falling from your tongue was like pure magic as he became transfixed by how it sounded. Your mouth dropped open in a small O as your legs shook around him. He pulled his fingers from you as he held down your hips in order to keep you from squirming away from him, "feelssogood - makerohstars - Dindindin."

"Come all over my face, pretty girl," his tongue darted into you for a few moments before he gave your clit a harsh suckle. That was all it took before you came again, screwing your eyes shut as he worked your through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your juices, refusing to waste even a drop, "there you are - taste so fucking good. Perfect."

He was relentless until he was sure you were completely done and a practical ragdoll on the bed. Slowly, he pulled back from you, trailing light kisses up your body, stopping when he got your face. Almost as if he was able to see even in the almost complete darkness, he wiped away your remaining tears. He hesitated for a moment for leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You sighed softly as you rolled onto your side and scooted closer to the wall, making room for him. 

It was a big thing you were doing, boundaries had been crossed and blurred and any rules you'd previously had were thrown out the window. Neither of you were sure what came next.

But you did know that you didn't want him to leave - not yet anyway.

"Din?" you asked softly as he pulled the blanket over your spent body; he was surprisingly gentle for a man that had just sent you to heaven and hell and back. 

"Yes, pretty girl?" 

"Will you stay?" your voice was small as you prepared yourself for defeat and for him to leave.

"Yes," he whispered softly as he slid in under the blanket and next to you, "I'd like that."

"Me too," you admitted as he shifted and pulled you in his arms so you could lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heart, "Din?"

“Hmm?”

"I'm in charge next time," you smirked lightly as you kissed his soft skin. He inhaled sharply but you could tell he was into it. The man might have just been in charge, but you had a feeling he might like being told what to do as well - and you were going to find out, "I want to ride you."

"Kriff," he groaned under his breath, "You're going to be the death of me, little brat."

"I'll make it worth your while," you promised with a small yawn, "I'll have you crying in no time - begging me for mercy."

“Mhmm.”

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” it was your turn to put your hand on his throat and give it a gentle, but firm squeeze as he stiffened at the feeling, “I know you’re a good boy, Din.”

“Fuck.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Twin!AU Part 2:

Gwaine is ecstatic to find that he’s technically dating Royalty (Arthur still isn’t best pleased), and Merlin begins to recover his true heritage.

Part 1   Part 3

Gwaine stares at the two of them open-mouthed from where he sits on the edge of the bed.

Re-telling the story had re-ignited Merlin and Arthur’s anger, but they do a good job of keeping it in as Gwaine tries to process that his partner and The Prince of Camelot are... twins. Gods this sounds like something out of one of Leon’s ridiculous fiction books: long lost royal twins and insane Kings and emotional reunions with long-dead, ghostly relatives. But to be fair, Gwaine has found that in all of his travels, Camelot has definitely been the weirdest place he’s ever been. Or perhaps it’s just the people.

He finally shuts his mouth, nodding slowly as he takes a deep breath and stands. He wipes his sweaty hands down his trousers briefly before stepping forward and pulling Merlin into a hug, making pointed eye-contact with Arthur over his shoulder. The only thing that Gwaine and Arthur had ever agreed on was that Merlin’s safety was of the upmost importance; this whole ordeal had just strengthened that agreement:

“That’s... you guys have had one hell of a day, huh? You said Gaius, and your mo- Hunith, and that bloody Dragon knew?”

Merlin tenses in his arms before pulling away, and Arthur’s expression turns stormy once more as he nods. Gwaine frowns, keeping one hand on Merlin’s shoulder as the servant (Prince?) responds bitterly:

“Hmm. We haven’t spoken to Kilgharrah or Hunith yet, but they’ll be getting a bloody mouthful from me, when we get time.”

Gwaine nods sympathetically, muttering his reply more to himself than the others:

“...Bastards.”

Arthur nods, but takes a deep breath as he puts his own hand on Merlin’s other shoulder:

“Agreed, but we’ve been gone too long; Leon’s been dealing with the council for at least half an hour and we need to go explain things sooner rather than later. News of my- The King’s arrest will spread like wildfire once it gets out.”

Merlin sighs, sagging slightly where he stands, and Gwaine steps even closer to him, moving his arm to be over his shoulder in a side-hug:

“Hey, I’m sure Arthur and Leon can deal with this if you’d rather hide out in here for a little peace. We could always set Morgana loose on the council, she’s bound to whip them into shape.”

(Yes, this fic is ignoring the timeline both in terms of the knights AND Morgana. She knows about Merlin’s magic, and Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine (and Lance) know about hers.)

Merlin lets out a quiet huff of laughter, leaning into Gwaine’s side slightly as he looks up:

“No, I can’t. Arthur’s right, we need to sort this out sooner rather than later. I’d be perfectly content to not tell anyone about who I really am-”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow and Arthur narrows his eyes, ready to protest, but is interrupted by Merlin’s loud continuation before he can say anything:

“-but I know neither of you will let me get away with that so... here we are.”

Arthur nods decisively and Gwaine hides a grin, clearly thinking about how he’s technically courting a Prince. Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s expression, a small part of him cursing himself for letting the drunkard stay in Camelot, but the rest of him is grateful, knowing that Merlin needed more than Arthur on his side, especially now he had lost, or partially lost, Gaius, Kilgharrah, and Hunith.

The blonde Prince lets out a deep sigh, looking towards the door despondently as he decides that they really can’t leave Leon to fend for himself any longer. The three of them make their way from the room wordlessly, but Arthur halts the group again at the end of the corridor, turning to Gwaine with a thoughtful frown:

“Go find Elyan, Percival, Lancelot, Morgana, and Gwen. Gaius is a member of the council so he should already be there but double check he isn’t in his chambers, and Leon may have fetched Morgana himself, but I don’t know.”

Gwaine turns to look at Merlin and speaks quietly:

“What should I tell them?”

Merlin’s frown deepens and he glances at Arthur, but he just shrugs slightly, giving the choice to Merlin:

“They’ll all find out in the meeting anyway, so it might be best to pre-warn them so they aren’t blind-sided. Tell them the truth, I was born with magic, and am Arthur’s long lost twin brother, confirmed by Igraine’s ghost and then Gaius.”

He looks bewildered as he says it, almost as though he doesn’t fully believe it quite yet; Arthur nods in agreement and continues his instructions to Gwaine:

“Have everyone meet us there as soon as possible, I want to get this sorted now and I’m going to need as many people on my side as I can get.”

Gwaine nods seriously, pressing a brief kiss against Merlin’s forehead before rushing off in the other direction, hurriedly knocking on the knights’ doors down the corridor as Merlin and Arthur turn the corner.

They make quick work of the journey back through the castle, stopping just outside the doors to the Throne Room with sweaty palms and shivering lungs. The two of them listen to the annoyed sounding murmurs coming from inside for a few moments and the guards try not to give them odd looks as Arthur glances to Merlin—stood at his side instead of behind him—with a fond, though nervous smile. He puts his hand on the other man’s shoulder:

“We’re about to cause one hell of an argument, you ready?”

Merlin takes a deep, calming breath, smiling briefly as he hears Leon pleading with the council to be patient for just a little longer, looking to Arthur with anxious eyes and pale cheeks:

“Yeah. Come on, I think Leon might hurl himself from the window if we make him wait much longer.”

Arthur chuckles quietly, and the guards quickly divert their gazes when he looks back to the doors, taking one last fortifying lungful before walking forward and pushing them open with a bang, Merlin at his side.

The room goes suddenly quiet and Leon visibly relaxes when they walk in, bowing briefly before stepping aside and allowing Arthur to take his place in front of the thrones. There is no table in the Throne Room, so the council stand gathered in the middle, staring up at Arthur incredulously as he runs a hand down the arm of The King’s throne absent-mindedly. He was grateful to see Gaius present, despite not being in any sort of mood to talk to the man; he holds a smirk in when he sees several of the councilmen raise eyebrows at Merlin, still stood at his side when he technically shouldn’t even be in the room. There was even further incredulity as Sir Leon moves to stand guard behind him, as opposed to The Prince.

One of the Lords nearer the front of the small crowd finally breaks the tense silence:

“My Lord, what is the meaning of this? We were told it was an emergency, that we were meeting in the Throne Room as opposed to the council room, and were then made to wait for almost a candle-mark. The King has yet to arrive, what is going on?

Arthur turns to look at them with a raised eyebrow, back straight and face impassive:

“Patience, Lord Angar, The King will not be joining us, though we are waiting for a few more-”

The doors open before he finishes and every head turns to see the remaining knights, Gwen, and Lady Morgana enter, led by a serious looking Gwaine. All of them give Merlin a small smile and a bewildered nod, bar Morgana, who looks nothing short of furious as she moves to stand protectively at his side, glaring at any councilman who dares to look their way. The knights spread out, standing to attention with hands on their swords around the edge of the room, whilst Gwen moves to stand against the wall behind Morgana, Merlin, and Leon. Only Gwaine, Leon, and Lancelot are in full armour, but all the knights are armed and angry looking.

The councilmen, looking more confused and annoyed, look back to a still impassive Arthur. He fixes a short glare on each and every one of them before turning to face them properly and speaking confidently, his tone inviting no argument:

“The King has been arrested and confined to his chambers for the murder of the late Queen, and gross crimes against the Kingdom.-”

The room immediately explodes into angry and incredulous yelling, and Merlin flinches away from the sudden noise. Morgana squeezes his wrist comfortingly, knowing that it was only going to get worse when the rest of the truth is revealed, and Leon steps out from behind him, moving to be at his side with his sword halfway out of it’s sheath.

The other knights and Gwen all tense in place and Gwaine has to resist the urge to run to Merlin, knowing that the council’s disdain for both him personally and his courtship with Merlin would just make things worse. Arthur rolls his eyes at the cacophony of noise and slams the metal part of his gauntlet against the arm of the throne with a bang:

“ENOUGH! You’ll find, gentlemen, that remaining calm and quiet will make this conversation much easier.-”

He glowers at everyone until the hall is drowning in another tense silence before taking a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his hands from fidgeting as he continues:

“-It has come to my attention, through the Witch Morgause-”

A few murmurs of dissent go around the room, but they quickly cease when even the ever-calm Sir Leon begins to glare at people:

“-and further confirmation by The Court Physician, that King Uther used sorcery, against The late Queen’s wishes, in order to conceive a child. He was warned of the dangers, and went ahead with his plan anyway, which resulted in not only the birth of twins, one of whom was magical, but the death of the Queen.-”

At the mention of Gaius, the elderly Physician gets a few confused glances, and even more glares; no one likes being kept out of the loop, especially when everyone there is a Lord except Gaius. At the mention of twins, everyone’s attention is abruptly back on Arthur, and the knights have to resist the urge to look at Merlin, in fear of giving anything away too early.

Before he can continue, Arthur is interrupted by Lord Angar again:

“My Lord, I very much doubt the validity of anything you have just said, but either way, is this really the sort of meeting to be had with servants, a Lady, and your peasant knights present? I know you’re oddly fond of them but-”

Arthur, Leon, and Morgana have to resist the urge to punch the Lord in the face at his words. Gwen, Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan manage to keep their faces neutral, though Gwaine glowers openly. The knight does however hold in his smirk when he notices the fury on Arthur’s face. The Prince takes a threatening step forward but doesn’t lower himself from the dais as he speaks, his tone cold:

“Lady Morgana, Guinevere, and Merlin have proven to be better advisors to me than you ever have Lord Angar; Sirs Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, and Gwaine are amongst the best knights this Kingdom has ever seen, and you will show every one of them the respect they deserve, or you will excuse yourself from this room, and this council. Am I understood?”

The red of Angar’s face gets more severe as he splutters:

“My Lord you can not be-”

“Am I understood?!-”

Arthur’s voice cuts through everyone in the room, despite it’s low volume, and where Leon hides his proud smirk, Morgana doesn’t hold back at all, especially when Angar takes a deep breath and nods his purple head in embarrassment. The rest of the council seems to finally have grasped the seriousness and severity of the situation and play close attention to Arthur as he continues, no one daring to interrupt again:

“-This information changes everything we know about sorcery; my father started a genocide against an innocent group of people because he was too much of a coward to admit his mistakes and refused to take the rightful blame for killing his wife. I will not stand for this, and things will change very soon. If you are not outraged at the unjustness of his actions, at the death and suffering he has caused our people, the people we are meant to serve and protect, then you are more than welcome to leave. Meetings to organise and begin the process of legalising magic will start early tomorrow, and I will be accepting no excuses, this is non-negotiable. As for the matter of my twin brother...-”

Arthur glances back to Merlin, and at his slight nod, Arthur shoots him a small smile and holds his hand out to him. Merlin walks slowly forward to the sound of the council gasping and muttering to themselves, Leon stays barely a hair’s breadth behind him with his sword fully drawn:

“-may I present Prince Myrddin Pendragon.-”

Lord Angar, among others, looks seconds away from bursting once more, so Arthur hurries to continue, though still manages to keep his voice forceful and confident:

“-This information was unconfirmed for both of us until around a candle-mark ago; I have never believed in fate before now, though I think we can all be grateful that The Prince managed to return to Camelot all on his own.-”

He settles his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but doesn’t pull him forward too much, understanding that his serv- his brother, probably wants to be as far away from the centre of attention as he can get.

“-I want him presented to The Kingdom and crowned before the month is out, this matter is also non-negotiable. Any questions?”

Lord Angar looks desperate to start yelling, but he also seems to have finally accepted that his influence over this room, and now the council in general, was tenuous at best. One of the newer councilmen, a young Lord who Arthur has a slowly growing respect for, steps forward slightly, bowing his head before meeting Arthur’s gaze and quietly asking:

“And The King, My Lord? Should we plan for your coronation as well?”

It was clear that the question was unexpected and Arthur frowns at the realisation that he had... arrested The King. Uther may have deserved it, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to order his execution, and knowing Merlin he’d argue against it endlessly anyway.

Morgana senses Arthur’s hesitation after a second or two, thankfully before the council becomes restless and annoyed:

“You could always take over as Regent whilst we sort all of this out; that way we can revisit the issue of actually crowning you King later. Though we can’t confine Uther to his chambers forever, we’ll have to deal with him at some point.”

Arthur hums and nods, giving her a thankful smile before looking back to the young Lord:

“Lady Morgana’s suggestion is sound. I’ll take over as Regent,-”

He nods at Geoffrey of Monmouth, who takes a note down in the giant leather tome he perpetually has under his arm. If Arthur thinks about it for too long, he might come to the conclusion that the older man looks proud:

“-and we can revisit the issue when the dust has settled.-”

He rubs his eyes tiredly, as though the last day or so of drama had finally landed with it’s full weight upon his shoulders:

“-I think it goes without saying that, for now, none of this is to leave the room. I trust only Sir Leon with assigning who is to guard The King,-”

He glances to Leon, who nods seriously at his words:

“-keep it discreet Leon. I want to keep as much of this under wraps for as long as possible to avoid public panic; this is going to be a lot of hard work gentlemen, but I mean to see it through with or without your support, the choice is yours. The first meeting will take place in the normal council room tomorrow, two candle-marks after dawn. You’re all dismissed.”

The councilmen—including Gaius, after he sends a forlorn look Merlin’s way—slowly trickle out of the room, some looking angry, most looking resigned, but a few looking rather content, happy even (Arthur and Morgana take mental notes of who is who). The door shuts quietly behind the last man, leaving only Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and the knights left, all of whom understanding that the dismissal did not include them. Arthur lets out a deep sigh when the room quietens, looking back up to Merlin with a tired smile and even more tired eyes:

“Ready brother?”

He quirks an amused, but hugely pleased eyebrow as he says it and Merlin grins, rolling his eyes fondly:

“Not even close, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Arthur chuckles as the others all move closer, an odd mix of exasperated, because Merlin turning out to be Arthur’s long lost magical twin is exactly the sort of insanely dramatic thing that’s likely to happen in Camelot, and hesitant, because... how do they even deal with that? Other than with a great deal of confusion?

Gwen is the first to reach him, pulling Merlin into a tight hug that is very well received:

“I’m sorry Merlin, I can’t imagine how difficult this must be, and I’m so terribly sorry for all the horrible things I’ve said about magic.-”

She pulls back but doesn’t let go of his shoulders, staring up at him with tears in her eyes and a desperate look on her face:

“-You know that we all love, and trust you, don’t you??”

Merlin rolls his eyes fondly and pulls her back into a hug with a wide smile on his face:

“Of course I know that, I love you too Gwen. And don’t worry about it, you believed what you were taught, it’s not your fault.”

She looks like she wants to argue again when she pulls back, but Merlin just pats her cheek softly and gives her a warning glare. She huffs but dutifully steps back, allowing Gwaine to take her place as the rest of the knights pat his shoulders and run soft hands through his hair as way of apology and comfort. 

Merlin smiles at them, but sobers quickly when a particularly horrible thought re-occurs to him. Gwaine squeezes his shoulder in question and Arthur furrows his brows:

“Merls?”

Merlin just sighs and leans into Gwaine’s side slightly:

“I need to talk to my... Hunith. And Kilgharrah, but I really don’t have the energy for him right now.”

Arthur nods in understanding, thinking for a moment before looking up to the huddle of knights (most of whom look marginally confused at the mention of whoever the hell Kilgharrah is):

“Percival, Lancelot, you know where Ealdor is?-”

The two of them nod, remembering the route from visiting with Merlin a few months ago:

“-Leave at dawn, take an extra horse and bring Hunith back with you. With all that’s going on, me and Merlin can’t afford to be gone for even a day and it’s a four days’ journey there and back.”

They nod, but Lancelot quickly responds with a quiet:

“We can leave now if you like, it’s not like the journey will take much prep. What should we tell her?”

He looks to Merlin, who frowns slightly as he replies, his words slow:

“Don’t tell her anything, Arthur and I need to have that conversation with her. She’ll panic when you turn up without me so feel free to tell her that we’re all alive and uninjured and not in any danger but... just don’t tell her the real reason.”

Their smiles are understanding, and just a little pitying, but they turn and march off the moment Arthur nods at them in approval, determined to do everything they can to make things go smoothly and easily.

It’s Elyan that breaks the now slightly uncomfortable silence a few moments later:

“So... do we still call you Merlin? Or is it Prince Myrddin, My Lord?”

Merlin grimaces the moment Elyan mentions what would soon be his official title, and the others grin at his reaction, chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair:

“No one’s called me Myrddin since I was about five, and I think it would be a little odd if that changed now, so Merlin is just fine.”

The others nod in agreement, though Arthur sighs as he responds, faux annoyance in his tone:

“Paperwork’s going to be bloody confusing.”

~

It takes Merlin all of three hours to figure out that Arthur had subtly assigned him a constant guard. The guard consists of Sirs Leon and Gwaine, so he isn’t... complaining, per se, but it's annoying, to escape company for a quick piss to find his partner and friend casually hovering right outside the door.

But to be fair, Merlin only notices when his brain registers that Gwaine isn’t there, and how odd that is. Whilst Merlin is interrogating Leon, Arthur is cornering Gwaine in a seldom used corridor, though the rambunctious knight beats Arthur to the punch:

“I think we’ve been here before, Princess.”

Arthur raises an amused eyebrow at Gwaine’s teasing grin, before sagging slightly in place and sighing. Gwaine sobers immediately, putting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and trying to meet his gaze:

“Arthur?”

Arthur sighs again, looking up to him with tired eyes:

“This goes without saying, but Merlin.... he is everything to me. As far as I’m concerned he and Morgana are my only family, though I suppose I believed that before all of... this; but that’s besides the point. I know you won’t ever mean to hurt him, and I do trust you, as... difficult as that is to admit, but I need to you understand, Gwaine,-”

Gwaine nods in understanding and agreement:

“I do understand, Arthur. He’s everything to me as well.”

Arthur shakes his head and steps back, bringing himself to his full height:

“No, you don’t. He is my brother, and he was taken from me. He has suffered, more than I think either of us will ever know, and that stops, this Kingdom is now being built for him. But I would burn it all down if it would make him happy. Everything is for him, for Morgana, for my family. Do you understand?”

Gwaine nods, only once, before holding his hand out. Neither his hand nor his voice shakes as he responds:

“I’ll pour the oil, you light the match.”

Arthur pauses for a moment, as if trying to gauge his own trust in the other man, before clasping Gwaine’s hand strongly. 

The seriousness of the moment ends when Gwaine lifts his other hand to tug sharply at Arthur’s hair before ducking under his arm and skipping down the corridor towards where they’d left Merlin and Leon. Arthur just huffs and follows him, definitely not sulking.

Merlin turns to them both with a scowl when they enter, immediately taking note of the residual gravity in the tightness of Gwaine’s shoulders:

“And what have you two been doing all of sudden?”

Leon bites his lip to stop himself from snorting in amusement, but fails miserably the moment Gwaine shrugs and opens his mouth:

“I don’t know, some sort of mutual arson pact I think.”

Arthur rolls his eyes first at Gwaine subtly, then at Merlin, far more obviously:

“Honestly Merlin, we’ve spent practically every second with you all day, you can’t go a few minutes without us?”

Merlin huffs noisily and turns around to grab Leon’s wrist, dragging him from the room and not looking over his shoulder as he snarks:

“Leon’s always been my favourite knight anyway.”

Gwaine and Arthur just look outraged, both speaking at the same time:

“Hang on, what about me?!”

They fix each other with narrow-eyed glares before shoving each other childishly, fighting over who could shoulder their way through the door first.

~

The next conversation, a few days later, is... a lot harder.

With Kilgharrah’s odd ability to seemingly know about everything that happens in Camelot, Merlin couldn’t get away with putting off speaking to him for long, especially with how The Warlock could feel the way he was angrily clomping about in his cave.

The short journey down through the dungeons, made by Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine, was made mostly in silence. The oppressive feeling of Kilgharrah’s mishmash of emotions bouncing around in Merlin’s head made focusing on any other strain of thought impossible, and Gwaine and Arthur were too busy stewing in their own anger and worry to want to disturb him.

They pause momentarily outside the large iron gates leading to Kilgharrah’s lair, none of them looking to each other as they take deep breaths in an attempt to gather some bravery. Arthur and Gwaine have never said anything, but Kilgharrah terrifies the shit out of both of them; Merlin normally takes these trips alone—Arthur and Gwaine’s fear wasn’t difficult to pick up on and he never wanted to make them uncomfortable—allowing the other two their blissfully ignorant beauty sleep as he sneaks away to argue with a Dragon. But that’s obviously not in the cards today; no way either of them would let him face this alone.

Kilgharrah is waiting for them when they push open the gate and stalk out onto the ledge, and he raises himself to his full height, sparing barely a glance in Arthur’s direction and sparing Gwaine even less as he stares at Merlin with aloof, golden eyes:

“You have discovered who you are, Young Warlock, at long-”

Merlin interrupts him with a scowl and a held up hand:

“You had no right,-”

His voice is echoingly deadly, and the two knights find themselves being reminded of Merlin’s seemingly endless power. Merlin being angry at Gaius was... was like a child being heartbroken at a parent’s betrayal, which it was in some ways. But Merlin being angry at Kilgharrah... that was much more; like a God being angry at a creature of His own design. Merlin stands before The Great Beast, centuries old, full of unimaginable knowledge, and he stands tall, and proud, and angry.

“-no right, to keep this from me. You claim that no one can know their destiny, and then proceed to prattle on about mine in riddles. In my search for answers, you gave me more questions. In my search for comfort, you gave me fear. In my begging for help, you gave me nothing but pain. I’m done, you’re just as bad as Uther.”

Kilgharrah bristles, flaring his arched nostrils as his furious reaction ripples across his hardened scales:

“How dare you compare me to-”

Merlin interrupts him with a yell, his voice growling in it’s reverberation, a hidden power more ancient than the mountains themselves echoing in his words:

“You separated my brother from me and you had no right! You whine about how Uther took your kin from you, but you took my kin from me! You suffered so you made it your greatest goal to make everyone else suffer just as much. You are cruel, and cowardly, and I am done. You will not manipulate me anymore, you will not lie to me, or mislead me. You tried to get me to kill the boy, but I didn’t, and I forgave you. You tried to get me to kill Morgana, but I didn’t, and I forgave you. You keep trying to get me to free you, but I won’t. You will rot in here until you can tell me the truth, a truth I deem worthy, on why you kept my heritage from me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and marching out of the gate without another word, Gwaine following closely behind. Arthur stays, just for a few moments, though with Merlin’s sudden display of power over the beast before him he finds himself significantly less frightened:

“He’s right, you know. Every one of my brother’s successes has come to pass because he ignored you. You have haunted him every step of the way, causing nothing but grief; you should be grateful, Merlin has offered you a chance of redemption that I would not have.”

Arthur doesn’t wait for a response either, jogging up the steps to catch up with the other two just exiting the dungeons.

Merlin doesn’t ask what was said, though Gwaine does raise an eyebrow in The Prince Regent’s direction; Arthur gives him a short nod, acknowledging Gwaine’s need to know, need to keep a tight hold on everything so he could keep Merlin safe and happy. Or as happy as he can keep him in this situation. Gwaine relaxes when he understands Arthur’s promise to tell him later, trusting the blonde to have Merlin’s best interests at heart.

The slight relaxation doesn’t last long however; Merlin heads up through the castle towards the large doors leading into the courtyard. The other two follow him, knowing that the younger man likely needs some fresh air to recover from the pressing darkness and power and heaviness of Kilgharrah’s presence, but they quickly tense when he suddenly halts on the steps just outside the doors.

When they peer over his shoulder, they are abruptly reminded of the amount of time that had passed since Percival and Lancelot had left. And apparently returned.

Hunith dismounts her horse quickly, her mouth stretching into a relieved smile as she runs towards him. Merlin doesn’t move, just stares at her with blank eyes, and Gwaine’s eyes shift nervously between the two of them. Hunith’s relief is quickly dropped when she notices Merlin’s non-reaction, and she slows just before she ascends the steps, looking up at Merlin with her brow creased in worry:

“Son?”

Merlin’s expression hardens; his hands clench and his eyes and tone turn icy as he responds:

“I’m not your son.”

~

END of part 2!!!

Sorry to be a teeeaaasssee :))))) (Not really)

I’ve recently got a BUNCH more hours at work (which is like... good for me personally but not so great for my social life or hobbies lol) so things might take a little longer to come out from now, but I promise this blog is still ultra active and going!! I’ll just only have time to write in the evenings nowadays.

I’m not sure when part 3 will be, but it’s in the works and won’t be too long!! Two weeks at absolute MOST I imagine :D

[dancing-in-a-yellow-dress]

Trapped Little Angel (part 1)

Welcome to the first part of the first fanfic on this account.

Child!reader x the Avengers

Word count: 2900

Trigger warning: Imprisonment, nightmares, non graphic descriptions of violence and injuries, possible trigger for eating disorders

--

You were a 14-year-old orphan living alone in New York, since your family had died in the explosion that gave you your powers. Your powers were similar to Wanda’s (telekinesis and all that jazz). You got them when you were 7, but for whatever reason they hadn’t been active before that day.

It was a basic September day with all of its rain and fog and clouds. You were walking on the street when suddenly you blacked out and your powers exploded out of you destroying property and hurting people everywhere around you. The Avengers were called to action and they evacuated the block and when you’d cooled off a little they took you into custody and to the Avengers tower.

You had passed out and they didn`t really know what to do with you, so they laid you down on the couch and began a debate about the subject.

Tony believed firmly that you were dangerous to the team and the best thing for everyone would be to lock you up isolated and unstimulated to avoid new outbursts until a better option would be available. Steve backed Tony up to an extent, although he did believe the isolation to be unnecessary. Bruce didn’t really voice his opinion on confinement that much, instead focusing on the medical aspect of the situation.

Clint doesn’t really say much during the argument, before Tony raises the possibility of indefinite imprisonment in isolation. That is what finally gets to him, since you are just a kid and remind him of his own daughter. Wanda argues firmly against any form of forced imprisonment. In her opinion you needed medical attention, after which instead of locking you up the team should be focused on helping you control and develop your powers in a beneficial way.

Natasha is uncharacteristically quiet for the whole debate. Something about you had got to her and she found it hard to think of the situation objectively without a massive bias. Peter was on ‘your side’ for sure. To him you were a troubled kid who just happened to need some help. In a way he saw himself in you.

You start to regain consciousness about halfway through the argument. The Avengers are taken back at first, but when you are very confused and scared, Nat and Clint (who are the most ‘neutral’ participants) tell you what happened. When you have gotten the big picture you ask shakily: “How many people did I hurt? What’s the damage?” The others are hesitant to tell you, but Tony is highly pissed at you, so he takes his tablet and shows you some pics of the place where the accident happened. Wanda shoots him a death glare, but he continues and reads the statistics to you: “At this exact moment there are 9 people dead, 27 in critical condition and 56 with milder injuries. All because of your little stunt.” At this point you have pulled your knees to your chest and are struggling to breathe. Steve and Clint look at Tony like he has lost his mind and Nat tries to calm you down. You are repeating the same things over and over again: “I didn’t mean to- It’s all my fault… I don’t know how- What- I didn’t mean to…” Nat was approaching you, her hand reached out ready to stroke your back and pull you into a hug. She says: “We know. Everything will be alright, it’ll be alright. It wasn’t your fault, we’ll sort this out. It’s okay, you’re okay. We don’t blame you, but right now you need to calm down.” You flinch away from her, panic shining in your eyes: “No! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t control it… I don’t understand- I didn’t mean to…” Suddenly you look desperately at Tony “You have to lock me up. I’m dangerous. I can’t be trusted. I have to be put away. Please”, you beg, surprising all of the other people in the room. Peter is about to say something, but Tony cuts him off.

You stand up and Clint shows you the way to a quite big cell. You step in and he shuts the door behind you. You sit on the floor in the corner and pull your knees to your chest. You just blankly stare at the wall. You noticed that there was a camera in corner of the room near the roof as you stepped inside, but you didn’t care. What did it matter. As you stayed on the floor the team was reheating the discussion whilst keeping an eye on the monitor that showed footage from your cell.

Wanda and Peter were shouting at Tony for locking you up in an isolation cell. Natasha and Clint were a bit calmer, but they were backing Wanda and Peter up. At some point Tony says: “You heard the kid. She wanted to be locked up. Even she thought it would be the best option”. And that sets Natasha off: “Yeah, after you had scared the poor thing on the verge of a panic attack. That wasn’t fair play. You drove her to that decision and you know it.” Then Peter fires: “Besides the whole ‘she decided herself’ excuse is bullshit. She’s a kid. SHE’S 14. I’m 17 and you don’t trust me to do anything yet, so how again is she any different?” That shuts Tony up.

In the end the team comes to the conclusion, that they will be monitoring you strictly and willing people will be allowed to go talk to you. All except Peter (just for the first few days) who is infuriated to no end by the decision.

The first person to come talk to you is Wanda. She comes and talks for a while, but you can’t make any sense of what she’s saying. After a while she leaves shutting the door behind her. Steve also comes to question you, and even though this time you understand what he is saying you can’t find the energy to answer him in you. Clint brings you something to eat and drink, but you don’t move a muscle to acknowledge the act. Time sort of looses its meaning to you as you sit on the floor and stare into nothing, alone with your thoughts, the same thoughts over and over and over again.

Nevertheless, you know some time has passed when Natasha comes through the door with another tray filled with food. She places it carefully on her untouched bed and sighs deeply before speaking: “You should really start eating on your own. It’s been two whole days and you haven’t taken a bite. I get that its hard, but you’ve got to try. Otherwise we’ll have no choice but to put a feeding tube down your throat and trust me kid, that does not feel good.” She gives you another look, then turns around and walks out. Slowly you straighten your legs on the floor.

You hadn’t really noticed how much your muscles were hurting for being in the same position for so long before someone pointed it out. You stretched your legs first and then stood up slowly. You went through your body, stretching every muscle one at a time and then sat down beside the bed to eat. You weren’t really hungry, but the threat of getting a feeding tube stuffed down your throat was enough to get you eating.

After you were done with the meal you went back to your corner and sat back down, leaving your legs laying on the floor instead of curling up to a tight bundle. After a few minutes there was a knock at the door and Wanda walked in. She picked the tray up and looked down at you, clearly assessing the situation before finally saying: ”Hey, I was wondering if you needed to use the bathroom.” You didn’t answer her but stood up and stepped timidly few steps forward so that she knew you’d be coming along. She guided you through the hallways and into a bathroom. “There is a towel on the counter and shampoo on a shelf in the shower. Take as long as you need. I’ll pick up some clean clothes for you and bring them here. Okay?” You didn’t say a word but nodded and opened the door to the bathroom. After half an hour you were back in your cell but feeling significantly cleaner and comfier.

Instead of sitting back in the corner on the floor you sat on your bed and crossed your legs. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it, so you started singing, first just humming quietly, then adding the words to the song. It was an old lullaby your mom had sang to you more than once. Some things just had a way of sticking with you.

`Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt kuuluu keijujen äänet

Ne tanssivat taas koko yön laulaen

koko yön laulaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

taas syttyy tähtöset pienet

Ne oottavat taas läpi yön loistaen

läpi yön loistaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt sammuu keijujen äänet

Ne liitävät taas ylös luo tähtien

ylös luo tähtien`

Then you sang it over again, this time in English

If your quiet, very quiet,

you can hear sound of the fairies

They’re dancing again through the night until day

through the night until day

Very quiet, almost silent

the stars are lighting the sky

they’re waiting again till the night fades away

till the night fades away

If you’re quiet, very quiet

you can hear sound the fairies

they race through the sky so they’ll be near the stars

so they’ll be near the stars

You sang the song a couple times over and finally you got to the last part you had made up on your own. You always ended it there, since you could never continue singing after that.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

ei kuulu keijujen äänet

Ne lähtivät taas minut yksin jättäen

minut yksin jättäen

Even if you’re very quiet

you won’t hear sound of the fairies

they flew up the sky leaving me alone behind

leaving me alone behind.

You broke down sobbing. Clint was sitting at the monitor, and he thought it’d be best not to disturb you, so you were left alone as you start humming another melody your mom taught you.

Joka ilta kun lamppu sammuu ja saapuu oikea yö Niin Nukku-Matti nousee ja ovehen hiljaa lyö On sillä uniset tossut ja niillä se sipsuttaa Se hiipii ovesta sisään ja hyppää kaapin taa

”I didn’t know she was finnish” Nastasha said to clint as she sat next to him with two cups of tea. “Finnish?” Clint asked as they listened to the beautiful melody coming from the lonely cell. Nat was quiet for a while before saying “Yeah. The language is absolutely bizarre.” They sat in silence for another while, until Clint said: “She sounds miserable” “Yeah, but who wouldn’t. I’m guessing she has no family, since no one has come asking for her.”

Ja pieni sateenvarjo on aivan kallellaan Ja sinistä unien kirjaa se kantaa kainalossaan Ja unien sinimaahan se lapset autolla vie Surrur, surrur ja sinne on sininen, uninen tie

Ja siellä on kultainen metsä, ja metsässä kultainen puu Ja unien sinilintu ja linnulla kultainen suu Ja se unien sinilintu se lapsia tuudittaa Se laulaa unisen laulun joka mielen uneen saa

Your mum never taught you that song in English. You had tried translating it, but it always turned out so peculiar you had eventually given up.

When you felt like you had cried enough you stopped with the finnish and started going through songs you had heard somewhere else, altering the lyrics as you went.

You hadn’t sung anything in weeks and now you just couldn’t stop. It felt good. You went over your favorites altering lyrics and making up new verses, not wanting the song to end. As you sang you thought about mum and home. In the outside world they were forbidden things, because they made it hard to focus on surviving. But here she had all the time in the world to think. After hours and hours she finally laid down on the mattress and drifted to sleep

Tony had just started his shift watching you through the monitor and you were having a nightmare. You were curled up in a ball and whimpered and muttered quietly, as tears ran down your face. You dug your nails into your back and started scratching leaving bloody red marks behind. Then you started screaming. The sound echoed through the halls, but Tony didn’t know what to do, so he ended up doing nothing, just staring at the screen paralyzed. It went on for a while, until you finally flinched so violently you woke up.

You were in a state of panic, but as you realized where you were it started to wear off. Little by little you started to feel the pain from the bloody scratch marks on your back and arms. You examined your injuries to the best of your abilities and then looked at the floor while talking sheepishly at the camera in the corner of the room: “If you don’t mind I’d like to have something to wrap these cuts with. I might also need some help with the ones in my back. Its not a big deal, but I don’t want them to get infected.”

The screaming had woken up Natasha and Steve who were now standing behind Tony, looking at the screen over his shoulders. Tony cleared his throat before turning around in his chair and facing the other two. They both had their arms crossed on their chest. Steve looked surprised as hell, but Natasha was quick to recover. She threw Tony an icy stare before saying: “Should we think the imprisonment over again, or is she still too dangerous for you to handle?” Tony raised his hands before saying: “Let’s think that over in the morning, when the whole team is up. Now, would you mind going to help her with the injuries?” Natasha threw Tony another dirty look, before grabbing the first aid kit and heading to your cell.

Nat came, and you laid on the bed on your stomach. She lifted your shirt, poured antiseptic solution on a cloth and warned you: “I’m sorry, but this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” She pressed the cloth gently on your back and you shrug. “It’s not that bad. You get used to pain as a homeless kid. Once I had to remove a bullet from my own shoulder.” There Nat saw an opportunity get little bit more information of you and continued the conversation: “Must be tough. I suppose you don’t have any family left?” “Yeah, mum and dad and Tom died… in an accident” you tensed up visibly. Nat continued unbothered but didn’t bring up the deaths again. “I heard you sing the other day. Didn’t know you were finnish.” “Oh, I’m not. My mom was.” “So, can you speak finnish or what?” “Nah, not anymore anyways. I used to, but I haven’t used it in a long time. Some things just stuck with me, like the songs, or silly pet names mum used to call us.” For some reason you felt really safe with Natasha. Her touch reminded you of home as she worked to clean your wounds and then wrap them with clean gauze. You knew it was silly, but it just felt so good to finally talk to someone, so you kept answering her as she continued asking questions. “Pet names, huh. What did she call you?” “She used to call me Lumikki. It’s the finnish for snow white. It’s cheesy as hell, I know but we lived in a little cottage in the woods, and I was obsessed with Disney.” Natasha smiled at you. “Do you remember anything else about your mum.” “She had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. She sounded like an angel. Sometimes I hear her in the wind.” You pause for a minute “And she was a dancer. She used to be a ballerina, but then she had us and her career ended. She never quit dancing though. Once in a while she’d put on her slippers and go through some old routine, like she had never stopped. She even taught me some basics.” Natasha was quiet for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and continued: “Did you have any siblings?” “Yeah”, you were quiet for a moment, not rushing to continue “One brother. His name was Tuomas, but we all called him Tom. Three years older than me. He was my best friend.” A tear fell down your cheek. Natasha was almost done with wrapping your back so she asked one more question. “How about your dad” You shrugged. “He was a hunter. Spent most of his time with Tom out in the forest when I stayed in with mum.” Nat packed the medical supplies back to the first aid kit and pulled your shirt down so that it covered your back. Then she helped you sit up and said: “I can’t promise anything yet, but we’re having another meeting with the team about your… condition and I believe you might get out of here.” She saw the unsure look you gave her. “Don’t worry” she said as she took your hand “Everything will be alright. I promise”

--

Sorry, I have absolutely no idea what is going on with the spacing, tried to fix it but it wont budge... Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!

[axwalker]

Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour. 

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words. 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.  

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!! 

I’m participating in the  @wackydrabbles​   prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.” 

I apologize for any grammatical errors.   

Tags in the comments ;) 

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested. 

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.” 

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly. 

 “Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain. 

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.” 

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.” 

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins. 

 “Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS 

 His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction. 

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him. 

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” 

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,” he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me. 

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine. 

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.” 

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently. 

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.” 

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

 His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place. 

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.” 

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. 

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place. 

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth. 

“Lexie,” he groans. 

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …” 

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain. 

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.” 

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks. 

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me. 

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.” 

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.” 

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.” 

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done. 

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake. 

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust. 

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.” 

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.” 

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself. 

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor. 

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.” 

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.” 

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.” 

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—” 

 “For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken. 

[heartsofbeskar]

whole

din djarin x fem!reader oneshot

WARNINGS: implied pregnancy, dad!din (its a warning bc ur heart may explode)

WORDS: 830

A/N: in the same universe as ‘warmth of you,’ but can be read alone! so much fluff my teeth fell out of my head writing this, enjoy

masterlist

You struggled, most days, to describe the love you had for Din Djarin.

Some days, it felt like a bolt of lightning in a thunderstorm, paralyzing your muscles in place as it jolted through you. Others, it was a soft spring breeze, softly flowing over your skin, soothing you, bringing a peace and calm you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Today, it was the warmth that bloomed inside of your chest as you walked in to see him sleeping, your small daughter cradled to his bare chest.

The low evening sun fell across him where he laid, highlighting the contours of his body; the muscles of his arms, the profile of his nose you adored so dearly, his eyelashes where they cast small shadows down onto his face.

He’d been letting his beard grow in, the short brown hair littering his face, except in the stubborn spots it refused to grow. You noticed it was beginning to be speckled with grey hair as well; a feature he’d no doubt jokingly blame on you.

Brea’s face was turned in your direction; she was completely asleep against the warmth of her father’s chest. Her tiny lips were parted, her tiny hands formed into loose fists. It still amazed you that you and Din, so rough around your edges, could make something so whole.

You peered across the room, quickly, to where you’d left Grogu. His small body was also still with sleep, large eyes closed, ears settled against his favourite pillow. Small noises left him on every exhale, making you smile.

Padding carefully over to the bed, you lowered yourself down gently, one leg after the other, followed by your torso. You woke Din, of course; a stray fly could wake the man from a dead sleep. He watched you with half lowered eyelids, free arm pushing the blanket back for you to join underneath.

As you settled on the bed, his arm came around your shoulders, pulling you in until your head rested on the top of his chest. You stared down at Brea, lightly trailing fingers over the unbelievably soft skin of her back, over Din’s hand where he held her to him. Her hands opened slightly, but she didn’t wake.

“She sleeps like the dead,” Din murmured. His breath washed over your hair. “Just like you.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, sticking your tongue out indignantly. He laughed at the gesture, and Maker, it was a sound you wished you could capture in your hands, hold it close to your chest, carry it with you wherever you went. He didn’t laugh enough, you thought. It would never be enough for you.

Running your fingers along his beard, you stretched to bring your face to his. He met you halfway — he was always meeting you halfway — and pressed his lips to yours. His lips were so soft, and each time you kissed him you felt as if you were learning that for the first time, over and over again.

It was sweet and delicate, a caress of lips against one another, a dance the two of you practiced to no end. You felt him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. He pulled away but remained close, your breaths intermingling in the small space between. His smelled of sharp peppermint.

“You haven’t been sleeping well lately.” It was a statement, not a question, and you didn’t bother to try and argue against it. You loved your daughter past the edges of this universe and beyond, but sometimes her refusal to settle in the deepest hours of the night drove you to very the brink of your sanity.

“Our daughter has your patience,” you said teasingly. He snorted, and you settled your head back down against his skin, looking out the window as the Nevarro sun dipped lower in the sky. Your legs gently tangled with his underneath the soft blanket. “When I was a child, I napped during every thunderstorm.”

“Are you saying you need rain in order to sleep?”

You laughed breathily. “Maybe … too bad we don’t get many of those on a desert planet.”

When he said nothing in response, you peered up at him once more. His brow was drawn in somewhat, lines deepening in his face. You loved the peaks and valleys of his face, a map of the life he had lived, written just for you to explore.

“We can go somewhere with rain,” he said, his tone soft and uncertain. “With thunderstorms.”

“And leave Nevarro?” You studied his eyes, those unfathomable dark depths, the hidden portal to his soul which he kept locked away from everyone but you. They were very serious in this moment.

“I’d go anywhere with you. Be anywhere with you.”

You pulled him down to you once more, pressing your lips to his as if they held all the secrets of the universe itself. Perhaps, you thought, they did.

—

tagging some people who were interested in ‘warmth of you’, let me know if you want to not be tagged!! no hard feels

@omgreally @grogusmum @lovehappyloki @kyjoraven @asta-lily @the-ginger-hedge-witch @empress-palpat1ne

if anyone would like to be tagged in future additions to this set, let me know!!

💜💜

[from-a-reckless-writer]

read on ao3

Kara’s time in the Phantom Zone has always been labeled into two parts. The Going There and The Leaving. In part, because those two things are the things that she was coherent enough to remember but mostly because she doesn’t like remembering the time in between.

Not liking it, was an understatement. Kelly would probably call it trauma. Yeah. That was the word. Trauma. It was 24 years of traumatic experience but it was easier to just refer to it as The Going There and The Leaving. Simply put, just a part 1 and a part 2.

Kara didn’t even know when The Going There began. All this time she thought, Krypton exploding behind her pod was the beginning of it. But later, when her aunt comes back for her, when an entire fleet comes for her new planet, when her hero dies by the hand of her sister, she will learn: The Going There started the moment her mother thought of using Kara to arrest her aunt. That realization was something she didn’t like. Some days she wishes she’d never come to that realization at all.

The beginning of The Leaving on the other hand was something she was awake to remember. She remembers the rumbling, she remembers the hum of the engines as it powers up, she remembers the pod slowly coming to life and then the whoosh!.

The exhilarating, wondrous woosh! that roared into Kara’s ears. Filling her with hope after sleeping a slumber of despair for so long. Of course, she wouldn’t know that ‘so long’ would translate to 24 years till she arrives on Earth and Kal rips her door open. Of course, the hope wasn’t replaced with the utter feeling of failure and defeat, till Kal flies away from her. Some days she wishes she was never awake for any of it.

There were two parts to Kara’s experience in the Phantom Zone; The Going There and The Leaving.

She’d never expected that there would be a Return.

******

Loss was something the universe had given Kara at 14 years of age. Others received dreams or new siblings but Kara? The universe handed her loss and then left quickly before answering any of her questions. The universe handed her the burden of an annihilated planet’s legacy, a race of dead people that only she can remember.

It was something she’d learned to live with, had moulded into her every day life, a permanent mark on her soul.

In her hands loss used to be a strange thing.

She used to be a daughter of one of the respectable families of Krypton. A high born. The progeny to Zor-El’s brilliance, the successor of the El’s legacy. She had never known loss, until one day she woke up and nothing was left. At first, she didn't know what to do with it except for crying and screaming and waking the entire house of a family she didn’t belong with, night after night after night. But soon, it became a part of her, became a kindling to a roaring fire.

Nobody had expected the last daughter of Krypton to burn, but when she did, it was brilliant and bold and the world had stood in awe of her flames.

And so, as she watched herself lose her father for the second time. She snatched loss from the universe’s hands before it even had the chance to hand it to her, she snatched it and claimed it for her own. That was where this was going all along wasn’t it?

Another loss, another mark, another kindling.

The only difference this time though, was, she isn’t sure whether she wants to burn brilliant, bright and bold or set the entire universe on fire for what it’s done to her for the second time around.

These were the thoughts that chased each other around in her head as she breathed heavily; sagging against the walls of a cave she’d found shelter in. Aside from misery and agony, caves are also one of the most abundant things in the Phantom Zone. The jagged spikes and hard rocks are slowly becoming home to her now.

No, not home. This isn’t home. Home is-

And then her brain stalled. Home is…

Home is?

Home is—

It felt like a headache was ripping her skull. The more she thought about it the more it hurt.

She knows where home is. Home isn’t this place, home is— home is— home is—

It was at the tip of her tongue at the edge of her brain.

She can’t remember. Didn’t she just see home not 30 minutes ago? An hour ago? Two seconds ago? Time doesn’t pass the same way, her brain throws at her and the pain starts anew.

But she refuses to give in. She knows where home is. Home is...is...is

NOONAN’S!

Noonan’s is home! Or at least, it was a part of it??? Kara thinks and thinks and thinks.

And for a moment, Kara could swear that she smells the familiar aroma of coffee beans and sweet sugar in the air but then the thought vanishes just as quickly as it came.

She was grasping at the edges of that little snippet. She tries to picture the logo of the store, tries to recite the branches littered around National City, tries to remember how she had worked there once, tries to remember her order, tries to remember Alex’s order.

Alex!!!! Her brain lights up at the thought.

Alex is home too.

At this point, the pain was unbearable, she was barely breathing. It feels as if the more she’s trying to remember, the more something, someone?? Is blocking her. The chances of it being something seems more likely than it being a someone.

She remembers her father’s words of warning from just days before. Hours before?? Weeks before?

Before.

Just before she’s lost him again.

How this place will drive you to the brink of insanity, Kara held her tongue but she wanted to scream that she knew that. She knew what the Phantom Zone did to people. She knew what it had done to all those Fort Rozz escapees, what it had done to Astra, what it had done to her. She was fucking insane for 24 years! 14 year olds weren’t supposed to go through that.

The worst part is, it was her parents who put her there, her mother, her father. The same father she mourned and who not only minutes ago was telling her to give it up.

The same father she’s lost, again.

Pain flares at the back of her head, from her nape slowly snaking its way to behind her eyes. Kara suspects it’s something to do with the cave and the silver glow around the cave’s awning that she’s only just now noticing.

But it was too late now. Too late to get out nor to retreat even further. She has used the last ounce of energy she has in that fight with Nyx and this headache was only making her weaker. Headache, feels too juvenile a word to describe this feeling, this cleaving of her mind from the inside.

Alex, caramel macchiato and sticky buns were the last thoughts in her head before everything turned dark.

******

She steps out of the portal and the moment her foot touches The Tower, weapons and superpowers alike suddenly poise to strike at her.

Until, Alex whispers, “Kara,” lowers her gun slowly, arms shaking from shock and then she loses track of who crashes unto who first.

Just that she’s home and Alex is sobbing but so was she, and she’s never seen J’onn cry like this before but he cradles her and his sobs rumble out of his chest and into Kara. She can feel it rumbling between their embrace. The three of them stay in that position for what feels like hours until the voices of the others filter through and then next thing she knows M’gann is hugging her.

Brainy lifts her off the ground and it should surprise her that he could do that, but it doesn't. It feels like the most natural thing in the world as Kara laughs and Nia squeals at Brainy to put Kara down so she can hug her too. Nia’s squeals turn into quiet emotional sniffles the minute Kara’s arms wrap around her. And in that moment Kara realizes it isn’t just one sister she lost for a while there, she lost Nia too.

And then, her eyes land to the person in the back of the room. The person who didn’t run at her like the others. Whose heartbeat is now thundering so loud in Kara’s ears, now that her eyes have found her.

Lena.

She looks as beautiful as ever and Kara feels her heart swell so hard she fears it could burst. For a moment, she thinks she’s survived the Phantom Zone just so Lena Luthor could kill her with one look.

The moment their eyes meet, Lena’s body lurches forward only to stop awkwardly halfway through, leaving her standing there, twiddling her fingers, eyes shining with tears, her whole frame shaking from holding back.

Kara is two steps away from running to her and she was absolutely going to. She realizes Lena is doing the thing she does best.

Shrinking herself.

Kara was about to run to her—

But a shrill ringing breaks through their staredown, Lena breaks away from Kara’s gaze to look at her phone and then she is turning away; phone to her ear.

Later, Kara will think she should’ve run after Lena. She should’ve run after Lena, snatched the phone away from her and wrapped her arms so tight around her and told her how much she loved her, how much she missed her, how hard she fought just to see her again.

If she did, maybe they wouldn’t be here now. They wouldn’t be running inside an abandoned warehouse, trying to find where Lex had hidden Lena.

She wouldn’t be too late.

Maybe, if Kara did things a lot more different, she wouldn’t be here now; clutching Lena’s broken, bloody body to her chest and screaming at the sky.

How dare the universe hand her another loss?

******

When she opens her eyes, she gasps out Lena’s name. She jerks so suddenly, her head hits a low stalagmite and rattles the ground she’s currently lain on.

It takes her a long time to collect her bearings. She stares long and hard at her hands. It felt so real.

Lena’s blood on her hands. Lena’s pale face getting paler and paler. Lena dying.

She gets approximately two minutes of reprieve. These 120 seconds she uses to breathe in deep, lets herself feel the extent of her fear. The anger seeps deep into her bones but it was nothing compared to the grief in her heart at the thought of losing Lena.

Lena!!! Her brain screams, LENA IS HOME!!! Lena is ho—

And then the moment the thought comes barreling at her, the pain returns. It returns tenfold and Kara doesn’t even try to move.

She knows what’s going to happen next.

******

Alex finds her unconscious on the ground.

She yells for back-up in her comms.

Dreamer and Brainy and J’onn run to the portal.

J’onn fends off the Phantoms circling Kara long enough for Dreamer to create one of her forcefield tunnels in order to get Kara from the ground and unto the portal entrance unharmed.

These are the things they will tell her once she wakes up.

They will tell her how hard it had been for everyone, how perpetually dim those days without Kara were.

Kara will cry upon hearing all of it. She will cry because she saw her father again and she couldn’t save him, she will cry because why does it always keep happening to her?

What could she have possibly done to the universe that it would give her something this cruel?

She will cry because it’s been so long since she’s heard Alex’s voice and now she is right here, telling Kara that she did nothing wrong, that the universe just sucks. But it’s okay, because the universe can suck all it wants and Alex will always be there through all the sucky parts.

After the teary reunion, Brainy will come running into the room, just as the two of them are untangling from their embrace.

Brainy will then tell them that Sentinel needs to suit up. Brainy will be too emotional to say the words, “It’s Lena- Lena has- Lena’s been-”

“Brainy what is it? What's wrong with Lena?”

M’gann will say it for him.

“Lena has been killed.”

Kara will cry and cry and cry.

******

You know that painful lump in your throat that makes it hard for you to breathe because you are holding your sobs in?

That was how Kara woke up, with a painful lump in her throat that made her want to throw up. She didn’t even get to see her this time. She just woke up to a world where Lena was killed, and all she could do was cry about it.

And so, she cried. She cried and cried and cried and punched the walls of that cave. She screamed so loud and let the echoes of her screams resonate all around the hollow space.

The hollow space so similar to the chasm inside Kara’s chest.

Her screaming is cut off by a sharp pain shooting from her temple and immediately spreading. This time, the spread was much faster than the last. It knocks the breath out of Kara, steals the voice out of her shout and makes her submit.

She curls into herself. She struggles to fight off the call of slumber. Her eyes close against her wishes.

******

There are no portals this time.

All Kara remembers is that she touched a glowing stone on the murky soil west of her cave and then the next moment she is standing in The Tower.

Something was wrong.

Kara knew something was wrong, because the moment she was zapped in. Alex didn’t come running to her. Nobody did. They just stared at her. All of them wearing black.

“I’m back, I-I’m home.”

It alarms her that she felt the need to verbally say it. J’onn comes up to her, “Kara,” he says and he swallows, puts a hand on her shoulder.

J’onn looks like he’s going to tell her something. And that this something isn’t easy for J’onn to say. Alex takes one look at J’onn, realizes what J’onn was going to do and walks out.

“Wait— Alex! What- Where are you— J’onn what is happening?”

She wishes she never asked.

******

She wakes up again. This time she doesn’t bother to get up, doesn’t try to scream, doesn’t try to cry.

She just lays there.

The ceiling of the cave is the same shade of grey as of Lena Luthor’s tombstone. Never would she have thought that Lena Luthor and tombstone would be two things she says in the same sentence. It was J’onn who flew her there. In the dream? In the vision?? Kara doesn’t know anymore and frankly, Kara doesn’t care anymore.

Somebody left plumerias at the foot of her grave.

Plumerias.

Plumerias, like her mother’s favorite flower. Like—

Like the one in Lena’s office.

Like the one back home.

Home.

She lets the dark claim her willingly.

******

The Tower is destroyed. There are no survivors. Just Kara. Standing there in the ruins of what once used to be their hideout. Behind her the still gaping portal is blowing puffs of cold air from the Phantom Zone.

******

It’s Alex, this time. A role reversal. Lena breaks the news to her.

“S-she died, Kara. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kara wants to die too.

******

It’s Lena and Alex.

Kara wants to laugh.

Of course, there would be a version where both Alex and Lena would be taken away from her. There was already a version where nobody survived. Why not this one too, right?

She should’ve known.

******

Eventually, she comes to one where it’s her who dies.

Isn’t it funny? That the thing she’s wanted—has been begging for—has come to life right in front of her, and Kara realizes, turns out it wasn’t what she wanted after all.

From where she's fallen on the ground she sees Alex bark orders. She hears hysterical screaming. She feels Lena kneel by her side.

Nia is slowly crumbling next to Alex’s side; she’s removed her Dreamer mask to let her tears flow freely.

“Don’t leave us, please, don’t leave us. Fight back, goddamnit, Kara fight back! We just got you back. Please, please, Kara, please. Not yet.”

She feels Lena’s tears fall down on her own cheeks.

She looks beautiful even with tears in her eyes.

Kara wishes she can move her thumb to wipe the tears from Lena’s eyes.

******

“I found her!”

Nia shoots up from where she was sleeping. Alex runs into the room. Brainy steps aside and lets her punch in the coordinates.

“Where is she?” Lena asks, suddenly materializing out of nowhere, startling Nia, green eyes frantically darting around at the monitor, waiting for the map to appear.

“There!” Nia shouts and points. There’s a little red dot blinking on the screen.

Lena shoves her, fingers flying across the console, zooms in and makes a 3 dimensional version of the landscape appear.

It’s a cave.

Kara’s inside a cave.

“I believe that’s what the Klamarian’s refer to as Caverna Tim-or,” Brainy states upon closer inspection.

They hadn’t noticed Alex behind them already gearing up.

“Then what are you nerds gawking around there for?! Suit up. Come on, let’s go!”

It spurs the whole team into action.

Nia was already in her Dreamer suit. She’s been sleeping in it for 2 nights in a row, now. Refusing to be woken up, just getting up to eat a power bar or to go to the bathroom. It was slowly nagging at Brainy, the way Nia wouldn’t move for extended periods of time until she jerks awake, exhausted and depleted from overusing her powers.

But this time, this time Nia doesn’t feel tired at all. She is pumped. She is hyped. She knows where Kara Danvers Zor-El is and they will bring her home.

The only one not running about the place in a flurry of guns, ammo and armor is Lena.

She is sitting perfectly still, in front of her monitor. She has to stay back, that has been the plan. If they ever find Kara’s coordinates, someone has to stay back and prepare The Tower for their return.

Lena knew it was going to be her. She didn’t have training to fight. She didn’t have any powers. All she knows is to throw a punch and she guesses that wouldn’t be helpful when faced with soul sucking creatures.

So, there she stays; controlling everything with her just a flick of her fingertips.

Besides, all their suits wouldn’t be upgraded if it weren’t for her. It was fine that she had to stay. She’s waited for Kara long enough, what’s a few more minutes of holding down the fort, right?

******

Lena might not have superpowers but she’s been gifted with enough intelligence to build the Superfriends trackers into the fibers of their suit, even have all of them linked directly to Lena’s supercomputer.

The one she’s had installed in The Tower much to J’onn’s protests. Lena didn’t have a job. She didn’t have responsibilities, she didn’t have to wake up at 7, go to work at 8 and be stuck in stuffy meetings.

She has free time and tonnes of money to rebuild The Tower’s entire tech department.

Brainy almost drooled when Lena pitched the plan to the team.

Lena also brought them Jess.

Or rather, Jess brought herself and nobody was man enough to tell her no. Who says no to a formidable American-Asian woman anyway? After Lena had emailed Jess about the recent developments regarding LuthorCorp. Jess had emailed her back almost instantly, telling her that she’s also just turned in her resignation and before she starts applying for another job, she asks, Ms. Luthor, do you need help with anything else?

Lena was floored with the loyalty that Jess had shown her. Instead of replying to the email, Lena called Jess. Upon answering, Jess expected many things from her boss, an eloquent thank you, a huge last pay, but she never expected to hear Lena Luthor sobbing into the line.

Jess asks if she could visit Lena in her flat.

“Like I mean, right now Ms. Luthor.”

“Lena, please, call me Lena.”

“Okay, Lena. Can I please go to your penthouse? Because, no offense, but you obviously do not sound okay, and I think I can help.”

“I’m actually not at my penthouse as of the moment.”

And that was how Jessica Huang was brought into the fold.

And also, if it weren’t for Jess, Lena thinks the rest of them would be lost.

As much as Lena was the brains of this operation, logically and legally speaking she wasn’t doing well.

The woman wasn’t eating and sleeping for fuck’s sake. For a woman who built a state of the art tech system in under three days, you’d think she’d realize that humans need to be healthy in order to function.

And so, it was Jess who handled Lena like she's done so many times before, handled all finances, handled all the press that all of them were bringing unto themselves. Jess enforced a No Flying Through the Balcony Unless Absolutely Necessary Rule and thus far it has worked.

Nobody was also allowed to use the main entrance. Only J’onn, the owner of the building, was allowed to be seen coming and going.

There were rag reporters at every turn and just one photograph of Dreamer, Sentinel and Guardian all going into the same building, would be a catastrophe. The young woman wanted to tear her hair out when she pointed it out and everyone was like, “Oh, yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Oh my god, yes, that makes sense.” As if the thought had never occurred to any of them before. Although, they were distracted with tracking a missing hero after all. So, Jess lets it go. She just shakes her head and makes sure each one of them has access to the secret entrance Lena designed.

Jess had also taken the time to go into the building opposite them, talked to the tenants and bought their silence. And then at the last minute, Jess thought, Hm, why not buy the whole block's silence?

The last thing these people—this team—needs right now, is a media frenzy.

She’s had enough practice with the youngest Luthor on that front.

Jess was also the one who organized them into shifts, pushed Alex to try to find a job at a local research center or even teach a bunch of self-defense classes. She made Nia go to CatCo on time and actually monitored all her deadlines, told J’onn to go do his private investigation stuff and made Lena eat three meals a day and sleep for about 6 hours every night.

Her and Kelly shepherded the team into a more reasonable routine.

Alex took the longest to warm up to her, though. Until the day Lena and Alex had a fight on whether or not they should tell Eliza.

It was a brutal screaming match.

Alex shouting that Lena has no right telling her what to do when it comes to her own mother. Lena screaming back that Alex has an obligation to tell her mother what really happened to Kara.

They all knew what it was really about, though. It was about Alex still being in denial. It was about Alex’s fear of Eliza labelling her a failure for not protecting her younger sister.

She didn’t want to tell Eliza. Because telling your mother news is one of the best ways to make that news a reality.

It was Jess who offered to find accommodations for Eliza once Alex finally found the courage and called her.

She bought Alex a six-pack of her favorite beer and sat with her till 4 am.

“Just once,” Jess says, “You get to drink this away, just once. And then you talk to Kelly about it, okay? I know we’re not really close, but well, I’m no stranger to family drama.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

Jess was not a stranger to loss too. She knows none of them are in their right minds with Kara gone. Everything happened so fast. And it really didn’t help that on every billboard and every LuthorCorp commercial you’ll hear about how perfectly perfect Lex Luthor is.

Everything happened so fast that Lena didn’t even question when she had known about Kara being Supergirl.

As if a ponytail and glasses would ever fool her, not to mention she’d seen Kara use a bit of superspeed now and again when she thought her best friend’s secretary wasn’t looking.

And so, the moment the Superfriends left for the Phantom Zone to find Kara. Lena Luthor immediately dialed one of her most trusted people in the world.

“Jess, I need you in The Tower, now.”

******

In twenty minutes, Lena was monitoring the team’s progress a thousand lightyears away, in the other room Eliza and Jess were preparing the med bed and the sunlamps.

It is now, in this moment, that it sinks in to her. This is real. This is real, they’re really bringing Kara back. They’ve found a way to find Kara, built a safe transport system into the Phantom Zone and if things go well, in less than fifteen minutes she will see Kara in the flesh again.

And she can’t help but feel the stirrings of fear begin in the pit of her stomach.

Sure, Kara had said that she trusts her again, but where exactly do they stand?

Does she even have the privilege of Kara’s friendship? Or are they merely allies?

It’s ironic, Lena knows exactly where her place is with the Superfriends, it took a long time and a lot of long talks but Lena now knows without a doubt that she belongs here, but well, now she doesn’t know where she belongs when it comes to Kara.

Kara’s been coaxing her to join them for years and now that Lena has, she’s now uncertain of their friendship with each other.

That’s always been the question with Kara isn’t it?

Are we really friends?

The red dot on the screen is joined by six more others on Lena’s screen.

They’ve arrived. They’ve located Kara. They’re right there with her right now.

Lena’s heart starts to race in her chest as the moment.

She tries not to imagine what Kara looks like once they find her there.

She tries not to imagine all the times she’s had nightmares about her being the one who finds Kara in the Phantom Zone.

Nia has been learning to project her dreams. Lena’s seen glimpses of what that piece of the universe looked like. She didn’t like what she saw, not one bit. She remembers how casually Kara had talked about it.

Whenever Alex asks Nia to project her dreams or asks Brainy to run the simulators, Lena walks out.

She takes it as her cue to leave. Don’t get it wrong it isn’t that Lena is afraid of the Phantom Zone. Oh no, if she could she had long rode a rocket ship there and rescued Kara.

It’s the visual coupled with the feeling of powerlessness along with the thought that Kara is out there, she’s there in that hell in outer space and it’s all Lena’s fault that she can’t stand.

That last one took a long time to shake off, it took a lot more than shaking off actually.

So, Lena leaves when they start to explore more about the Phantom Zone in VR and Nia’s dreams. She gets all of her information about the place, reading atlases from Brainy’s 31st century archives and other alien records, instead.

She has no idea what her friends are seeing there right now, what kind of creatures and all kinds of traps are set up for them. She hopes and prays to whoever it is up there that they bring Kara safe. That none of them gets hurt in the process.

She prays her family returns home to her in one piece.

******

Lena was brilliant enough to fix their suits with trackers that can remain linked back to her even if they were literally in outer space, but she didn’t have enough time to build a secure communication link.

Which means that the three of them, Eliza, Jess and her are staring at the screen. Watching seven multicolored dots move across the map, while they hear absolutely no news of how the team is doing.

The red one, Kara, remains unmoving, Lena notices, while the other colors circle around her. Lena does not want to think of the implications of that visual.

It either means Kara has been seriously injured and isn’t well enough to fight or Kara is…

She doesn’t dare finish that thought.

No, they will bring Kara home. They’ve got two Martians, a twelfth-level intellect Coluan, a human-Naltorian hybrid and two of the most elite human soldiers to fight for Kara.

They will save her, not to mention all of them are armed with tech made by Lena Luthor. There is no way Kara wouldn’t return home if she knew how hard they’ve been fighting.

Eliza must’ve noticed how tight she’s been gripping the edge of the console, because the older woman puts a hand atop hers.

“They’re going to be fine. We’re going to get them back. Don’t worry.”

Lena gives her a smile.

And then a portal opens in the middle of the room.

A strong woosh! comes out of the portal and immediately the three of them are running to the center of the room.

Inside, Lena sees Nia holding an entire ten yards of force field between where she's standing and the entrance of the portal.

J’onn is zipping around them fast, throwing off and assaulting Phantoms, Brainy is holding the portal open and there, in a dark awning of a cave she sees Kelly shielding Alex and M’gann.

A figure on the ground. Kara.

There was Kara. Kara was right there, lying unconscious on the ground and it’s taking every ounce of Lena’s willpower to not barrel through and carry her back here herself.

What good would she be if those creatures catch her? So, she stays there and she shouts, “Brainy, do you need help getting the portal stable?! I can hook you up to a closer power source if you keep it open long enough till all of you get back here!”

Brainy shouts something back but he is being drowned by the howling wind, so Lena takes it upon herself to do what she told Brainy.

Runs to the console with shaky fingers and with just a series of clicks and codes the portal opens much brighter and glows much more stable.

“THANK YOU!”

She hears Brainy shout and she smiles. Until she hears Nia say something that sounds like -can’t keep it up any longer, Alex! Alex! Now!

And then M’gann is heaving Kara unto her shoulders and Alex and Kelly are running for the portal, J’onn covering the four of them, Brainy waiting for Nia.

For a moment, Lena thinks, “This. This is what my life has become. I have alien friends. We are saving a superhero and there is a portal right in front of me right now. This is my life now.”

She shakes that epiphany out of her head

Alex sees her mother and shouts, “Mom, gurney! Gurney, she’s unconscious!”

Jess and Eliza run to fetch the gurney and Lena meets the four of them at the portal’s opening.

God, Kara was so pale, she was so pale being carried like that on M’gann’s back. Her cape is in tatters and her suit is soiled and dirty, there were cuts all around and her face, her wondrous beautiful face was so grimy and so was her hair.

There was nothing else in the world Lena wanted more than to cradle Kara in her arms.

******

Kara’s consciousness comes to her slowly; piece by piece. A bright light, a buzzing room, the quiet hum of an air-conditioner, and oh, her back is on a mattress, a soft, soft mattress. It makes her want to cry. She’s been sleeping on rocks for so long, she’s forgotten what mattresses feel like.

Her eyes remain closed but she’s lucid enough that she can decipher the buzz into separate voices.

“I cannot believe you didn’t change out of your suit! What did I tell you about hygiene and rest?”

“But, Jess— “

That was weird, was that Nia and Jess? What was Jess doing here?

For a brief window of a second, Kara’s heart drops. She’s in another dream-vision. She’s in—

“Would the two of you keep it down? Go yell at her in the living room.”

That was Alex. Wait— living room what?

“How’s she doing?”

Eliza! Eliza was here!

“Her vitals are fine, but I don’t think she has her powers. I was able to insert her Dextrose without using the red sunlamps.”

“She didn’t have sun there, honey.”

“I know.”

And then the conversation turns quiet and Kara hears Alex let out a quiet sob.

Then it gets muffled and Kara knows Alex is clinging to their mom. She wants to open her eyes now, she realizes.

So, she does.

She opens her eyes and she gets the frontrow view to Eliza and Alex sharing a teary embrace. Alex sitting down both arms wrapped around Eliza's torso, face soaking her mother's blouse.

“Hey, what about me?”

Her voice sounded scratchy and weak even to her own ears.

Alex breaks away from their mother, turns to look at her, gasps and flings herself forward to hug Kara.

Kara lets out a wet laugh, “I missed you, I really, really missed you, Alex.”

“I missed you too, loser.”

And oh, how she's missed this.

Eliza steps in to give her a hug too and Kara sobs in her arms and she lets herself fall apart in the arms of her mom.

Because that’s what Eliza is to her. A mother.

Her mother.

“Don’t you scare me like that, ever again, you hear me?”

“I promise, never again, Mom.”

It doesn’t matter that all of them know it isn’t true. Kara will be in far more dangerous situations again. Kara will risk her life again and again. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is she’s safe and Eliza’s asking her to tell her what she wants to hear, even though they all know better.

She still wants to hear it anyway.

“Good,” Eliza says, squeezes her one last time and then pulls back to brush the hair out of her face, “I’m going to get you some food, you must be hungry.”

When Eliza said that, it was like Kara’s body remembered all of its functions likewise all of its needs, she’s never felt this exhausted and this hungry before.

Eliza sees her eyes light up at the mention of food and chuckles before exiting.

And now, it’s just Alex and her.

Her sister doesn’t look good. She looks older somehow. She looks tired.

Not that Kara can blame her, she understands what it must’ve felt like to Alex to lose her in a split second and not see her again for almost—

Her train of thought stops when she realizes she doesn’t know how long she’s been gone.

“How long have I been out?”

“12 hours. You need more hours under the sunlamps, so don’t even think about—”

“No, Alex,” she cuts her off, sits up on the bed, “I mean— I meant to ask, how long was I gone?”

Alex refuses to meet her eyes, swallows hard.

Kara moves her hand over hers and squeezes.

“It’s okay, I’m here now, we can go through it together,” she says and Alex eyes well up in tears again before letting out a strangled, “3 months, Kara. You’ve been gone for 3 months.”

“Oh, Alex, come here.”

At first, the mention of the time doesn’t even bother her, she was more concerned about Alex. She lets her climb in bed with her, careful not to jostle her IV.

Her sister says she's been dehydrated and she needed a boost. Kara knows that it’s no ordinary Dextrose. Lois must’ve given them some of Kal’s stuff from Argo.

They lay side by side in that cramped bed and Alex catches her up on everything.

And then and only then, does Kara realize she’s missed 3 months of her life.

“How’s Kelly?” she asks, not for her but for Alex because she’s missed the way her sister's eyes light up when she’s talking about the person she loves and besides, Kara doesn’t really want to talk about her side.

And so, Alex tells her that Kelly is now Guardian, and then she tells her—albeit more shyly—that she also has a hero name now.

Sentinel.

Kara likes the sound of that.

“It suits you,” she tells her, “You’ve always watched over me.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eliza finds them like that, feeds Kara soup and she's taken in approximately 20 swallows before she passes out again.

******

The next time Kara wakes, everybody is there.

Brainy bought her 3 dozens of donuts, Nia brought her flowers, Kelly bought her potstickers.

All of those made her cry, the colors of the flowers were so vibrant, she’s missed seeing colors. The Phantom Zone was all black and gray and sad. Nia almost pulled away in fear of doing something wrong that might’ve upset Kara when she started sobbing at the sight of roses. Kara just gave her a big ole bear hug and a wet kiss on the cheek.

But, there was one person though, one person that she hasn’t seen around and to be honest? She’s been too scared to ask about.

She still hasn't told Alex about the visions. How can she explain her fear of seeing Lena if Alex doesn’t know about the visions? Her sister would start asking questions soon, though.

Why hasn't she talked to Lena yet? Why she hasn't asked? Why was she so scared of—

And then, as she was just inhaling her third box of potstickers, mind going over how to talk to Alex and Kelly is snorting over whatever it is that Brainy said, Kara’s world stops.

Her supersenses—it seems—are back and the first thing it chooses to focus on is a familiar heartbeat.

Her head whips to the door and there, Lena Luthor, her best friend—the most beautiful soul Kara’s ever seen—is standing there.

She’s fiddling with her thumbs and it reminds Kara so much of the first time she’s fallen victim to those horror show visions.

Fear grips her and refuses to let her go.

She knows this. She’s seen this sight way too many times.

Lena takes a step forward, then pulls back, holds herself back and then—

Her phone rings.

Kara shoots out of her bed, in the next instant she is right in front of Lena.

Distantly, she hears Nia shriek and Kelly shout, “Kara, oh my god!”

It doesn’t even register to her that she’s used superspeed that her superspeed is back.

All she feels is that she knows who’s on the other side of the line and she’s got to stop Lena from taking the call and she really, really, really just wants to hug her.

Lena’s eyes are wide when she realizes the quick woosh she’s heard is Kara.

“Kara, what—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she is quick to amend, “I just- I-” and then more eloquently, “Can we please talk?”

“I—” Lena hesitates, looks down at her phone, “I- I have to take a call.”

“No. Please, no don’t take the call, please trust me?”

“Kara, what are you talking about?”

Lena’s brows are furrowed in confusion now.

“Please,” she pleads, “Trust me, give the phone to Brainy, let him check it for you.”

“Kara, what—” she stops herself but then Lena takes a deep breath, looks straight into her eyes and says, “Okay, okay.” and then calls, “Brainy? Could you come here for a second?”

She lets out a sigh of relief and tension leaves her body and that’s when she realizes the cold tile of the floor beneath her feet and looks down to find that she’s barefoot.

Lena hands Brainy her phone and Nia hands Kara a pair of familiar fuzzy slippers. Alex must’ve made a run to her apartment, this morning.

“So,” Lena says, Kara can tell she’s nervous.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Yes,” Kara breathes out, “But first, can I hug you?”

This, Kara thinks, as Lena’s arms wrap around her and her shampoo invades her sense of smell and her warmth seeps into Kara’s body...

This is home.

******

Lena led her through the ‘living room’ and out to the balcony.

“I’m sorry I’m confused, living room?”

Lena chuckles and god, Kara’s missed that sound. Out of all the sounds on Earth, it was Lena’s laugh, Lena’s words, Lena’s voice she’s missed so much.

“Well, uhm everybody started camping out, there two weeks after you’ve…”

Lena's smile falters a bit but then she braves on through; omitting the words the both of them already knew, “And then Nia just started calling it living room, I mean, I guess it does look like a living room more than a heroes’ lair, now.”

And then Kara takes a good look around and Lena’s right, it does look more of a messy living room than a heroes’ lair.

There was a tangle of chargers on the cushions besides Nia’s laptop and Alex’s leather jacket draped over a couch, a couple of mugs sat on the coffee table. There were other knick-knacks too littered around, a Rubik’s cube here, a stress ball there, a couple of discarded pens and a lot of scratch papers filled with gadget designs.

She knows who to credit with those.

She’s missed so much. It hits her then She’s missed how all of this happened. How everyone had grown comfortable enough in The Tower that everyone considers it their second home.

Lena must’ve seen the way Kara’s eyes were roaming the place. Because she places a hand on Kara’s arm and the touch grounds her.

“Hey,” Lena says, “It’s your home too.”

She doesn’t know how to feel about that, but the way Lena says it makes Kara aware that Lena considers this place her home too.

Lena feels part of the team. Lena’s at home here, with her people, with her team.

The thought fills her with so much happiness but then—

If Lena became family while she was gone, what did Lena think of her now, then?

They stay quiet for a moment, which is driving Kara crazy, because she dragged Lena out here and now, she doesn’t know what to say.

“Kara,” Lena says the same time Kara says, “Lena,”

She smiles shyly at Kara and god, that smile. Kara wants to kiss that smile.

She doesn’t.

Even though Lena’s caught her staring at her lips.

“Okay, uhm I’ll go first,” Kara decides, averts her gaze and Lena gives her a small nod.

“Look, I’ll be honest, I- I don’t know how to do this and frankly, I’m not sure where I stand in your life anymore,” she admits and that seems to get Lena’s attention which just makes Kara’s palm get sweaty.

“Lena, I—”

“There you are!” Alex shouts at the two of them and whatever was about to happen, whatever Kara has to say becomes completely eclipsed by the next words Alex says.

“Lex is back. We have to hide Lena.”

******

“What?” Lena retorts back, loudly, “What do you mean hide?”

“Your phone, you gave it to Brainy right?”

Lena nods slowly at Alex, then looks at Kara and holds her gaze as if to say something.

“Yes, and?”

“We have reason to believe that he’s targeting an attack mainly for you,” Alex says and Lena isn’t really surprised.

The whole team is gathered now and Brainy is pulling up the details on how Lex had planted a bomb in her penthouse.

How original.

“Wait, you gave your phone to Brainy. How did you even know something was up?”

It was Kelly who asks and Lena realizes that it really wasn’t her it was—

“She didn’t.”

“What?”

Kara speaks up for the first time since they’ve been gathered here and Lena somehow finds herself wanting to close in on Kara’s space.

“Lena didn’t know. I did,” Kara tells everyone and Alex frowns for a minute, trying to comprehend.

“How?”

She sees Kara tense up at the question and this time she lets herself be pulled into the gravity of Kara. She takes the three step gap between and sidles up to her.

Kara seems to notice their close proximity and proceeds, “I uhm— I had these…”

Kara’s struggling to find the word, “Visions, I guess you can call them that, when I was uh- when I was stuck in this cave in the Phantom Zone. It was— they were very, very awful dreams. And in each and every one of them I lose somebody I love. But—”

She stops again and the pause seems to kill Alex but Lena’s attention is all on Kara, Kara’s staring at her like she’s trying to tell her something, Lena reaches over and squeezes her hand.

It works. The gesture gives Kara the push she needs.

“But mostly, they were about Lena.”

A tear falls from Kara’s face and Lena aches to wipe it away.

“Cavena Tim-or,” Brainy interrupts, “In Latin, timor stands for fear. You were stuck in the cave of fears, Kara.”

“But didn’t you say it was Klamarians' who named the place?”

“Yes, well, you’d be surprised at who was present during humanity’s past civilizations.”

After that, Alex quickly asks the question she’s been dying to ask since Kara told them about her experience two seconds ago.

“What did you see?”

“In one of them, the first one actually, I came home. I came back here, though a portal. Lena’s in the back of the room. She steps out to answer a call, but she never comes back,” Kara chokes up and this time, Lena presses up against her and wraps an arm around Kara.

“I’m here,” she says quietly.

“She never comes back because Lex abducts her and then kills her. And every time I fall asleep in that cave, it was that. Again and again and again. Lena dies again and again. And I lose her each and every time. I- I lose you each and every time.”

Before anybody else can speak up after Kara’s little revelation.

Lena tugs at her, makes her look at her. Lena’s wearing heels, Kara’s wearing fuzzy slippers, it allows Lena to put a hand on Kara’s cheek and finally wipe away her tears.

“I am right here. I am not going anywhere, you will never lose me. You always have me, Kara. You’ll always have me.”

******

Lex planting a bomb was such a fucking insult. It’s infuriating. But Lena wasn’t mad that he wanted her to die but because that was the lamest attempt ever. It was an insult to Lena’s intelligence.

She knows her brother. He wouldn’t settle for something as pedestrian as this.

And so, Lena does something she hasn’t done in a long time.

She calls her mother.

******

“Your favorite child is attempting sororicide again.”

“Yes, I’m aware. At least tell me you’re clever enough to have run into a discreet location?

“I don’t run, Mother.”

“Hm. For this one I advise you do.”

“What is he planning?”

“Well, that’s a surprise, I thought you already knew. Given the fact that you weren’t running.”

“I have an inkling.”

“I’m telling you now, Lena. You should run.”

“Why would I?”

“Supergirl’s back, Lena. Think about it.”

How the fuck did Lillian knew they got Kara back?

******

It turns out Lex's grand plan was to make the Girl of Steel choose.

The city or Lena Luthor.

It took them a while to figure out how Lex knew Kara was home.

Because of course, it’s always the things right on your nose that you don't see.

Remember the story about Jess making the occupants around the whole block sign NDA’s and buying their silence?

Apparently, Lex Luthor bought them at a much higher price and made them talk. Money makes the world go round, indeed. Or in this case, makes the world explode.

He planted moles and surveillance cameras all round the area and when the team got Kara back, somebody made the call to Lex Luthor.

He was staging a series of explosions using all of the National City’s residential areas. If there are victims, there would be a need for a saviour. And who would be a better saviour than Lex Luthor?

The explosives were all planted throughout a group of small-income businesses that can be found in most residential areas. A salon, a bakery, a dentist clinic, you name it.

Lex bought out these properties one by one under a pseudonym. Goddamn pretentious bastard. And then had his goons plant the bombs.

And the most irritating thing is, they weren’t the simple kind of bomb. Cut the red, save everybody kind of bomb. No, this one was a high-tech, highly volatile kind of bomb. Lena would soon discover that the bomb was one of Lex’s designs.

A compact, almost the size of a notebook, a plastic rectangular thing that nobody would notice. If you left it in the dentist's office, they’d just assume somebody has left a power bank in their hurry. But as soon as one goes near it—

Kaboom!

Game over.

******

Lex succeeds in taking Lena.

The plan was to get to a safe house before anything happens. Make use of the transmatter portals because Kara says she doesn’t trust any of them driving Lena and she was still too weak to fly her anywhere.

Lex abducts her in the middle of transporting. Her entire being felt like they were turned upside down during that. He hacked her coordinates and grabbed her in the middle of the process. Her brother defied Laws of Physics just to get to her.

“You’re forgetting, I was the one who made those watches.”

She is gagged and cuffed, not the police kind of cuffs but the DEO kind of cuffs, the heavy biometric access ones.

She can only imagine Kara’s horrified face when Lena fails to turn up at the other side of the portal.

Lex drops the bomb on the floor, 5 steps away from her and makes his mandatory villain speech. Lena tuned out about halfway through.

Every hour that the Girl of Steel fails to show up for Lena and saves another neighborhood instead, the bomb gets closer and closer to Lena.

Don’t save me, Kara. Save the lives of others. Don’t save me.

******

The thing about using tech for bombs is that Brainy will most likely have a solution on how to solve it, fast.

"We encountered a similar problem back when I was part of the Legion."

"Well, you know what to do then?"

"I do."

******

It’s Alex who saves her and...Lillian.

“Only you?” Lena jokes breathing heavily, as Alex removes her cuffs and Lex is down on the floor.

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?” she says, standing up from the monobloc chair. Alex in all her Sentinel glory, waving a device that Lena suspects is for detonating the bomb.

“Actually…” Alex trails off, gestures somewhere to the entrance.

And like some well-timed cue, Lillian Luthor rounds the corner.

Her mother was wearing a long black coat and heels, hair flowing, half in an updo. She looked as she always looked, an expensive calculating cold bitch.

“Lena,” she coos, gracefully kisses Lena on the cheek as if she hadn’t just sidestepped her son who was lying on the floor unconscious with a broken nose, as if Lena wasn’t just held hostage fearing for her life and for countless others, as if half of National City almost didn’t blow up.

Just a typical Tuesday for the Luthors.

Alex was too busy detonating the bomb on the ground to explain what the hell Lillian was doing here.

Her mother leans in closer, Lena feels the cold metal of a gun being thrust in her hands, she whispers, “I told him not to harm you.”

And in that moment in time, Lena realizes what this is. Her mother didn’t come for her because she cared if Lena lived or not. This was Lilian’s cheap shot at redemption. Lex had obviously failed her. But Lena? Lena might just be her saving grace.

Lillian must’ve thought if she played her cards right, Lena would pull her up from the depth of her sins. But no more, Lena knows better now. She isn’t the same woman who Lillian Luthor can manipulate into her traps.

Lena knows better now.

******

The sun is harsh on her face as Alex, her and Lillian make their way out of the warehouse.

Lex was being taken care of by a SWAT team. Old agents of the DEO that remained loyal to Alex Danvers and just like her had a hunch that Lex Luthor was bad news.

They pile up inside a nondescript van.

Alex’s first words to her as she shuts the vehicle doors close and the van lurches, are, “‘You’ll always have me?'” she mocks, “I mean Christ, Luthor, I had a hunch that you were gay for my sister but I didn’t know you were that ‘gay’.”

Alex rolls her eyes, makes air quotations around the word ‘gay’. Lena snorts. Lilian looks like she was going to throw up.

On the ride back, Alex tells her that Lillian stepped forward saying she knew where Lena was, snuck into The Tower, which J’onn or any of the Superfriends didn’t appreciate.

“Your security system is predictable, Lena. I’m your mother not to mention I’m a Luthor.”

Lena pushed down the urge to punch her in the face.

“Kara was this close...” Alex holds her index finger and her thumb in a pinch. “-to heat visioning her.”

Of course, it would be Lillian Luthor who would know where Lena would be taken by Lex.

Apparently, the others were scattered around National City helping to evacuate residents.

They all know Brainy could undo all of Lex’s bombs and avoid any casualties, but still, better safe than sorry.

It was only when they are already stepping inside the Tower’s elevators that it occurs to Lena that she still doesn't know where Kara is.

******

“She solar flared looking all over National City for you,” Alex tells her as they walk into the medbay and she sees Kara’s sleeping form under the glow of the sunlamps.

Alex excuses herself after changing out of her suit, muttering “Idiots, goddamn idiots I swear to God-” under her breath and Lena pretends she doesn't hear.

Flying around National City all night long exerting her supersenses fresh from a 3 month stay in a sunless hell and after only 12 hours under sunlamps, resulted in this; Kara unconscious yet again, powerless and weak.

Lena pulls up a chair next to Kara's bed. Grabs her right hand and puts it against her cheek, her palm warm against Lena's skin and there, with only Kara and the hum of the sunlamps, Lena cries. The events of the last few months finally catching up to her.

She falls apart, clutching Kara's hand tightly like an anchor.

******

Kara wakes up exhausted and parched. She blinks her eyes open to bright yellow lights.

She groans, rubs her eyes trying to sit up. The moment she sits up she realizes she isn’t alone.

Lena was here, sleeping on folded arms on the side of her med bed.

That does not look like a comfortable position.

“Lena,” she tries, nudging her gently on the shoulder.

“Hey, baby, wake up.”

Lena rouses, hums a confused, “Mm?” and slowly opens her eyes. Kara is shocked to see Lena’s emerald eyes have turned into bloodshot, tired ones.

“Were you crying?” Kara whispers, shuffling on the bed to get close enough to cup Lena’s face.

Lena doesn’t answer, just lets her head be tilted, Kara’s thumb softly rubbing at her cheek, concerned blue eyes burning into her. Kara looks like she’s going to ask once again but Lena cuts her off, half-afraid that if she doesn’t do it now, she will never do it.

“Kara, I love you.”

There. She did it. It’s done. She's said it. She can't take it back.

Immediately, Kara’s thumb stills and her eyes widen.

“And I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of you and me getting separated. With you not knowing how much I love you. How much it hurts every time you’re away from me. I’m so tired of not being with you, Kara.”

Her voice is heavy with emotion; exhaustion and overwhelming love bleeding into each other. She stares at Kara who’s still frozen, tears slowly falling, making her eyes shine like sapphire.

She feels Kara resume the movement of her thumb and only then does Lena realize she’s crying as well.

“I have you, right here, right now, but for how long? For how long? Because I know, I fucking know, Kara, this life. Your life. Our life. One way or another some disaster is going to get us again and I don’t want that to happen without me having told you how I feel. So, here I am,” she breathes out, “Here I am, telling you how I feel.” Lena puts a hand to Kara’s hand and cradles it, leans in to the touch, kisses her palm.

“I love you and I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want to hide it anymore. I love you.”

“Lena,” Kara finally replies, breathless and emotional, “You saved me, do you know that? You’re all I’ve dreamt about the whole time I was away. You're the thing that's kept me alive. My home is you, has been you, for some time now and I didn’t even have the chance to tell you.”

Lena breaks when she hears this, as her mind takes her back to the past three months of missing Kara, of feeling so fucking lonely, of feeling so fucking scared.

“I love you, Rao, I love you so much. I can’t not love you. You’re everything, Lena. You’re my home.”

Kara has moved so close to her that she’s able to press their foreheads together as she murmurs, “I love you,” again and again and again.

“I’m tired of all of this too. I just want to love you, Lena.”

These are the words Kara utters before she presses their lips together.

******

“Lena?”

“Hm?” Lena hums, distracted. It was a good day today. She woke up to Lena making pancakes in her kitchen, wearing nothing but Kara’s old yellow hoodie. The sight almost made her turn to goo.

It was her third day back after spending so long confined to The Tower’s bed under the sun lamps. She was sure it would be longer if Alex had her way.

Tomorrow, Lena will be arranging her affairs in taking L-Corp back. They both know she has a long way to go. Kara’s not worried though, if Lena did it once, she can do it again and just like before Kara will be with her every step of the way.

Now, they’re just lounging around lazily in Kara’s apartment. Lena curled up on her couch with a book and Kara on the floor writing on her laptop.

She came back to CatCo last Monday and now she’s trying to come up with a good enough email to send to Cat Grant and ask her for a favor. She loves Nia but Rao, did she really have to say Cat Grant to Andrea?

“Why was Jess yelling at Nia last week? I woke up to Jess’s voice, actually. And more importantly, Jess knows???!”

“Oh, darling, Jess has always known.”

Kara stops typing and turns around to prop herself up on the couch.

“What? I’m sorry what?” she blurts out, incredulous. Lena puts her book down and looks at her.

“Apparently, you haven’t been very subtle.”

“Wha- No! I can be sneaky! I’m sneaky!”

Lena snorts at her protests.

“Sure you are,” she purrs and if Kara wasn’t writing an urgent email, that voice would’ve made her destroy the couch

“—and uh Jess was yelling at Nia for not following Tower rules.”

“W-we have rules?” she says, Kara shakes off the straying thoughts out of her mind and focuses back on what Lena is saying. She hauls herself off the floor and unto the couch, Lena making room, lifting her legs and then putting it back down on Kara’s lap once she’s comfortably seated.

“Mm-hm.”

Kara’s hands start trailing up and down Lena’s bare legs on her lap.

“Will you tell me? I don’t want Jess to yell at me.”

Lena flashes a smile at that and Kara blushes adorably.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you, come here,” she answers and makes grabby hands at Kara. Rao, it’s a miracle Kara hasn’t died from the sheer cuteness that is Lena Luthor.

Kara shifts positions and fits herself horizontally, draping half of herself on Lena and Kara listens to the 5 cardinal rules of Jessica Huang. It mostly just says all of them should eat, sleep and balance superhero work and real work.

She wants to ask if somebody is paying Jess, but then realizes Lena Luthor is next to her and she would never let somebody like Jess work for free.

The thought of how utterly good and compassionate Lena is, makes her smile.

“Lena?” Kara mutters, nosing at Lena’s neck.

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

Lena laughs, “Once or twice.”

“Well, that wouldn’t do. From now on, it’s my mission to tell you I love you till I’ve said it a billion times,” Kara declares.

“A billion?”

“Mm-hm. And even a billion doesn’t even feel like enough.”

“You’ll always be enough for me, Kara,” Lena says, looking down to her and kissing her temple, “You’re more than enough for me.”

“I love you, Lena.”

“I love you too.”

******

There are two parts to Kara Danvers' story The Searching and The Coming Home.

She never even knew she was searching for something, someone, till she found Lena, till she found somebody to come home to.

******

uhm so, @uselesslesbianfr submitted something to me and my brain just started churning and then before i knew it i've written a 10k one shot about the brief plot she's sent me. so yeahhh.

[nightowlwriting]

summary: fjord takes care of the mighty nein. you take care of fjord. (part 4/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of self-hatred, bullying, lack of self-confidence

note: idk why this one took me so long and, honestly, it was almost super nsfw lmfao

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Fjord is a man who appears to know exactly what he needs and when he needs it. You’re not so sure. You tend to hang back when the group talks to people, or finds jobs for coin, just to watch. That’s what you like to do - get information, tuck it away, use it later.

It just happens that sometimes you end up watching Fjord. There’s no reason, not really. He’s the leader by default, no matter how much Nott will say that it’s Caleb. He does most of the talk, smiling all coy and leaning against things to charm the party’s way through whatever Gods forsaken situation you end up in. It mostly works, with some exceptions. There are things you begin to notice in the nights after Fjord has failed to charm someone with a well-placed wink, or a sir or a ma’am. He makes the fire just a little bit larger, stacking logs and kindling and using his flint so that Caleb doesn’t have to use his magic. He cooks heartier food, sometimes even disappearing and coming back with a skewered animal from the forest to add to the pot of simmering soup. He takes the first watch and doesn’t wake anyone until halfway through the second watch so that everyone can sleep longer, even if it makes him crabby the morning after.

You come to a conclusion. Fjord takes care of people when he feels like he’s not enough. He overcompensates in his acts of kindness when something he does fails - but why? To make you all stay? To make sure you know his worth in the group? To make up for whatever he sees as a downfall? Honestly, you’re worried it’s a little bit of all three. You’re not really sure about how the mind works - that would be more for Molly, or Caleb honestly - but growing up in an orphanage with children who pick and prod at your every physical characteristic cannot be good for a person. Especially with Fjord insisting that he doesn’t have a last name, despite the times that he introduces himself and you see it die on his lips before he can say it. There’s something there, but you won’t pry. People deserve their secrets. They deserve to keep something for themselves.

If he wants to keep his last name, that’s fine with you. If he wants to keep the self-loathing inside of him until he explodes, well, that’s not fine with you. That’s why when you realize that he decompresses by making himself useful, as if the group might dismiss him just because a few people were immune to his charms, you decide to do something. No amount of reassurance from anyone will convince him otherwise and the rest of the group tends to shrug away from his slightly overbearing kindness when something goes south. Caleb, Beau, and Molly are just uncomfortable with it while Jester is usually too engrossed in journaling, Tusk Love, or talking to the Traveler. Nott is somewhere between Caleb and Yasha (uncomfortable and straight-up not around to be doted on.) And… Well, that leaves you.

It’s not that you mind Fjord’s constant doting after he perceives something to have gone wrong, but it’s hard to let him in. Your life before the Mighty Nein wasn’t exactly peaches and cream, either, but you know that he needs this. He needs to feel like he’s doing something for someone or he’ll break. You only notice that, though, after a particularly rough, rainy day of trying to get information out of people for a job. Fjord had forgotten something important which threw off the communication and sent everyone you were working with into an angry tizzy. By the time you make it back to the tavern, everyone is soaked to the bone and cranky, even you - and you tried your best to avoid getting out in the rain. What you really want to do is go back to your room and change out of your wet clothes and then go to fucking bed, but you hold back. The group disperses one by one until it’s just you and Fjord left at the bar, and before you can make your leave you see his hands shaking. His hands, which are large and calloused and strong, are shaking like a leaf in the wind. There’s no other outward sign that he’s feeling stressed or upset, and that surprises you. It also worries you. This is not how Fjord acts when something goes wrong. He doesn’t sit at the bar and brood over an ale - he mother-hens his friends until they’re sick to death of hearing his deep, drawling voice.

The combination of these things is probably what makes you pause halfway out of your seat, eyes narrow and trained on him. He makes eye contact for a brief second before looking back down to his drink. You know that approaching and asking him if he’s okay will get you nowhere but you can’t leave him alone at the bar, not when you know he’s stewing on every mistake, every misstep, whether they really happened or he’s just overanalyzing his movements. He’s your… He’s more than a friend to you, despite the fact that he doesn’t know that and you don’t show it outwardly. Fjord means too much to you to be able to let him sit and spiral into a funnel of self-doubt. You know that it will be weird to put your pride to the side and ask for help, but you also know that you don’t really need help.

But asking Fjord for help means that he’ll feel better and you think that’s a very good reason to shelf your pride for a night.

He barely looks up at you when you approach, still dripping all over the tavern’s floors and hesitant to speak. He doesn’t speak, either, just takes another long pull from his ale to bide his time until you leave. (Probably.) You take the leap first and say his name. “Fjord.” He doesn’t look at you. “I know we’ve all had a bad day,”

“You can say that again,” He snorts.

“We have,” You stress, one hand finding the hilt of the dagger on your waist for some sort of comfort. You’re wildly uncomfortable and can feel the urge to run, get away, flee building up in your gut. If you’re not careful, it’ll spill out your mouth and you’ll be forced out of the tavern for the night in humiliation and self-preservation. “It has been one hell of a day today. I do not want to be alone.” Your sentence cuts off briskly and Fjord looks up in surprise. Your face mirrors his - untamed surprise. You had really opened your mouth to ask if he wanted to find a table and listen to your vent but what came out was I do not want to be alone. You blink and think what the fuck? Before Fjord is shaking off his surprise and standing.

“I suppose I can give Molly the room for the night.” He extends an arm towards you but doesn’t look at you. He’s doing a much better job of hiding how strange you’re acting than you are but still, you’re not going to let this opportunity pass. You wrap your own arm around Fjord’s and he begins to lead you toward the stairs. “Anything specific bothering you?”

“Nothing really,” You hum as you respond, hoping that by allowing him past your walls that it will help him, “Today is just a bad day.” Fjord halfheartedly agrees and your nerves shoot through the roof when he leaves you at your door, explaining that he’s going to warn Molly that he won’t be in the room tonight. You nod at him and slip into your own room, leaving the door cracked so that he won’t feel awkward about entering. Your laundry is everywhere and you grit your teeth, doing your best to hold back a scream. God damnit, you’re about to have the man that you have a crush on in your room and today is the day you threw your laundry all over?

It doesn’t even matter that he’s traveled with you in carts where there is no possible way to not overlap on laundry slash unmentionables. You still dash about, shoving your laundry into a pile in the corner and covering it with your weapons and shield just before Fjord raps his knuckles against the door frame, calling your name. You shiver and invite him in, wringing your hands as you stand in front of the unlit fireplace. “Are you okay?” He’s so earnest and it makes you feel… A little bad. You don’t want to say no to having Fjord be with you overnight because his presence is so calming, but it’s also… He’s not in your room because…

Ugh. “Fjord,” You say before you can stop yourself, “Okay, so, you can’t be mad but I noticed when things go wrong you’re really, really hard on yourself and you shouldn’t be. And I also noticed that when you’re hard on yourself you dive into taking care of other people because, I don’t know, maybe it feels like you’re doing something good? I’m not sure, but I really meant to ask if you wanted to talk but then that came out instead but I can’t let you stay in here if you don’t know why I asked.” He stands there, taking in what you’ve said, and then shakes his head. Your room is dark - too dark for you to see whether or not the small smile on his face is actually there or if you’re imagining it. When he chuckles, you’re more apt to believe that Fjord is actually smiling even after the day he’s had. “Um,” You finally cut the silence, “Please say something.”

“You mean to tell me,” He drawls, stepping slowly closer and removing his chest plate. It’s like his mood has gone a full 180 from where it was when he left you outside of your room, “That you looked so awkward and like a li’l kicked puppy because you wanted to help me feel better?” He sets his chest plate on the table, coming into your sight as your vision begins to adjust. You don’t get a good look at what’s happening on his face because you look away very quickly, setting your jaw.

“Well, when you put it that way,” You grumble and cross your arms, “You just like to help people - it makes you feel better.”

Fjord comes to a stop in front of you and sighs, but doesn’t say anything. Your hands begin to shake and honestly, you regret your stupid fucking decision to try and help Fjord out. You wouldn’t be here, standing in front of him and purely humiliated, if you didn’t look at him and notice so much. He finally responds, one of his hands coming up to touch at your bicep and then trails up until he’s cupping your shoulder. “I do like to help people,” He’s speaking more from his chest than his mouth, and you can almost feel the rumble through the grip he has on your shoulder. It’s not tight but it’s there, heavy and comforting. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I notice a lot,” You supply, tugging your chin away when Fjord tries to use the other hand to make you look at him. It’s only after he says your name in a soft voice that you look. You’re surprised to see that he looks soft… Soft and fond. “Please,” You whisper, uncrossing your arms to grab both of his wrists. You’re not even sure what you’re asking for but the way that you whispered please is the closest to begging that you’ve ever gotten.

“Please?” Fjord says, sounding incredibly confused but soft at the same time. You shake your head, trying again to look away from him. He ducks down, catching your eyes again, “It’s just me, remember? This is why you asked me here, isn’t it? To help you feel better?”

To your horror, you feel yourself mist up. “I invited you here so you could feel better, Fjord. I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself, and the only time I’ve seen you calm down after a bad day is when you’re taking care of one of us. I thought… Even if I don’t really need to be taken care of, that would help you. I just want… I want you to feel better.” He steps closer toward you, caging you into the rough stone of the fireplace but doesn’t speak. You’re almost worried that Fjord is going to cold clock you, but then he does something that you expected even less.

He surges forward and kisses you. Every part of him nearly engulfs you - the hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your neck, anchoring you to him, while he groans deep in the back of his throat. Your hands scramble for some purchase to express your surprise, landing on his hearty shoulders, clenching in the fabric of his shirt. You sigh into Fjord’s groan, and press as close as possible to his body heat. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it, you’ve been craving this: closeness with another person, pressing tight against their body… You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that when you thought of that, of intimacy, that you pictured Fjord. You just didn’t think he pictured you.

Fjord surges forward again, and you feel the soft scrape of tusks against you when he opens his mouth to breathe, keeping his nose pressed tightly to yours. “I didn’t think,” He says, accent thinner than you’ve heard previously, “I never dreamed that you would feel…”

“Oh, I feel,” You tell him, slowly moving your hands until you can intertwine your fingers behind his neck, “I feel so much, Fjord.”

“You never said…” He sneaks another kiss between his words, dropping his hands to squeeze at your waist, “You never even let on that you see me this way.”

“I do a lot of looking and not a lot of showing,” You remind him - it was something he had said to you when you first joined his group. I always catch you lookin’, but you never show. It’s terribly funny because he’d said it while the Mighty Nein were all naked, sudsy, and sharing a bathhouse at Molly’s insistence. The group had a field day with that and still does. The memory is apparently still fresh in Fjord’s head because a blush creeps high over his cheeks and he looks away, flustered. “You’re strong and pretty and beautiful and you take care of us so well. Even when you’ve had a bad day. I look up to you so much, but at the same time I want, perhaps selfishly, to take care of you in ways that you might not take care of the group.” He almost looks surprised at what you’ve said, but then it melts into a look of soft adoration. Fjord kisses you again and then drags his lips lightly over the arch of your cheek before he rests his head on your shoulder where he inhales deeply, his breath tickling your throat. You can feel his hands contracting against your waist, like he wants to touch and feel but is settling for keeping them where they are and feeling the soft give of your flesh. You know your heart is spinning at what feels like a million miles per hour, and you know that he can probably hear it, too. You can’t find anything in you that cares, though, because you’re so close to Fjord. He smells like saltwater, you realize. Not in a way that it seems like he’s been coughing it up again, or in the ocean, but just sort of… Naturally. Like he’s always smelled that way. Like you’ve always known he smelled that way. Like you were always meant to know and to find comfort in it. You pull yourself closer, relishing in the way that you hold each other, and Fjord sighs. You can feel the way that he relaxes underneath your hold and you relax, too.

This… This is the way that it’s supposed to be. This is how you can do for Fjord what he’s done for your team - except different. Except more.

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

how mikasa uses the red scarf on eren

nsfw eremika drabble <3 (part 2)

part 1 here

warnings/tw; smut, unprotected sex, teasing, edging, overstimulation, choking, slight bondage?, some fluff

•••••••••••••••••••••••

eren jaeger was always in control. almost.

mikasa had great strength, she always stood up for herself. never listening to others, she didn’t need anyone. except for eren.

she had devoted herself completely to him. mind, body, and soul. she loved him to bits and pieces. she would do anything for him, die for him, kill for him, live for him.

she would devote all of herself to him whenever he wanted. letting him fuck her until she was shaking, thighs sore and stomach slightly aching from where eren had been deep inside her.

it’s not like she wouldn’t like it. she loved the kind of pain eren inflicted on her. she knew he would never hurt her, could never bring himself to.

however, sometimes eren could be a bitch.

he would tease and edge her for hours.

abusing her so-called ackerman strength and patience.

mikasa knew he could go on for hours, even if she tried to touch him, he wouldn’t let her.

sometimes he wouldn’t tie her up, he would love looking down on her as she struggles to keep her hands above her head like he had instructed her to. would love to see her be at war with herself as she absentmindedly tries to decide between her never ending devotion to eren or her own pleasure.

he secretly wanted her to snap, wanted her to just growl and pounce on him. he wouldn’t ask, eren jaeger never asked for anything. he never asked her to pleasure him. she already knew all his desires, all his weak spots and all his breaking points.

well one time her patience did snap, it was when he was away from her for a week. a week was a lot for two people who can’t stop fucking every other night. he came back after a week of being away from her, and mikasa almost screamed when he demanded she don’t touch him.

he didn’t even let her hug him when he walked through the door. her brows furrowed and her eyes started tearing up. he merely had a small smirk on his face, standing infront of her and telling her it’ll be worth it, that he will pleasure her to no avail later on.

well eren was an asshole. he had prolonged all his activities in the day, taking too long to shower, eat, and just fucking about really.

only when mikasa stopped following him around the house like a lost puppy, sitting on their shared bed, arms crossed with a scowl on her features. only then, he started to move towards her. bastard didn’t even have a shirt on the whole day as he tried to hide his smirk when mikasa practically drooled over him.

he walked towards the bed, sweatpants hanging low on his waistline, hair in a messy bun with multiple strands fanning around his neck and his forhead. he looked godly.

he sat on the bed next to her, putting his large palm on her cheek. she shivered beneath his touch. she close her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned into his palm. she thought he would finally give her what she wants. finally touch her, let her have him after a whole week and a day of not being able to touch him, to feel his touch.

she was wrong, he continued the torture, just this time on their bed, as he spread her legs wide open, demanding she keep her hands above her head. she squirmed and writhed beneath him, whining and begging. hiding her red cheeks in her scarf.

eren would chuckle menacingly. “look at you, love.”

he would lightly glide his fingers down her stomach, making her arch her back towards him. “got you so desperate, yeah?” she would whine at his deep voice, looking up at his lust-filled eyes, attempting a puppy-eyed look as eren had an amused expression on his face, “‘ren, please, please, let me touch you. I’ve missed you. I wanna touch you!” she would kick her legs like a child, as if she was deprived from sweet candy. she wanted him. she wanted him so bad it hurt, it hurt her insides. her hands hurt, aching to touch him. her lips and tongue hurt, wanting to be on his. her cunt hurt, clenching around nothing as eren’s hand would stop right above her clit.

but most of all, her head hurt. it ached. it was deafening. it was numbing all her other aches, everything fading away except eren’s teal eyes.

she looked up at him, his eyes filled with lust, as if a flick was switched in her, she grunted and pounced on him. pushing him into the bed, she straddled his lap, her wetness spreading on his own already-damp sweatpants as her legs were on either side of him.

he looked up at her with a shit-eating grin, he wanted this. he would let her control him, do anything she wants. it was turning him on more and more by the second. the feral look in the ackerman’s eyes alone could make him cum undone, her eyes glowing with determination. determined to pleasure herself.

she started unwrapping her scarf around herself, throwing it around eren’s neck, god he looked good in it. it had been years since she saw the red fabric around his slender neck.

she tugged on both ends, bringing eren’s face impossibly closer, making him clench his jaw and grunt as she looked down at him, the tip of their noses touching, his teal eyes switching between glancing at her eyes and her lips.

she planted a slow lick on his lips, with that, he groaned and smashed his lips against hers. mikasa’s grip on the scarf around his neck tightening as they swallowed eachother whole. their tongues sloppily playing with eachother, eren biting mikasa’s lower lip as she moans into his mouth.

mikasa held both ends of the scarf with one hand, her other hand going to tangle with the loose hairs around his neck as she started grinding on him. eren started meeting her thrusts, both of them dry humping eachother like some high school kids.

when they both ran out of breath and parted their lips from eachother, a string of saliva connecting them. mikasa’s hand in eren’s hair went to tug at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, his breaths coming out his swollen lips as pants.

she managed to bring down his sweats, now pooling around his knees, his cock finally being freed, smacking against his abs, too red and glistening with precum, begging to be touched as eren never would. eren sighed loudly, slightly thrusting upwards as mikasa’s folds glided against the side of his length.

they were both panting messes, at this point just teasing themselves. mikasa grabbed a hold of his shoulders as she buried her head into the scarf around his neck, lifting her hips, waiting for him to finally fill her up.

eren chuckled lowly, one hand around mikasa’s waist as the other grabbed a hold of his own cock, so hard he could swear he would explode. yet the bastard still went on about his teasing, hitting the tip of his dick on her cunt one, two, three times before she whined, he brought his other hand down to her ass, giving it a sharp slap. she moaned loudly into his neck, trying to calm herself with his smell.

eren’s patience ran thin, finally shoving his thick cock into her hole with a groan as he held her waist with both hands. mikasa moaned, eren’s cock wasn’t even halfway in, her wet cunt tightened around his tip, screaming as her legs shook, her head forced back as she came around his tip.

eren looked up at her, amused look on his face as he held himself back from cumming, being too good at that by now. as mikasa opened her eyes, she was met with eren smirking hazily, “you just came around my head, baby?” he questioned in a teasing tone, already knowing the answer.

mikasa furrowed her brows, grabbing both ends of the scarf as she lowered herself onto him in a flash, all of his length buried inside her to a hilt, his tip hitting her cervix, threatening to rip up her insides. she held back a wince, tears welling around her eyes but she swallowed the lump in her throat, she was determined. determined to wipe that shit-eating grin off his handsome face.

eren’s face scrunched up, his eyes shutting without his will, lips parted as he threw his head back with a growl. mikasa could feel thick, white ropes fill her up. her thighs slightly shaking around him from the overstimulating texture of his cum deep inside of her.

eren was a moaning mess beneath her, still cumming, he opened his eyes lazily, feeling mikasa wrap other end of the scarf around his neck and tug at the ends, the scarf cutting eren’s blood flow in the now prominent vein in his neck.

he gasped, holding a tight grip on mikasa’s waist as his slender fingers would most probably leave purple marks there for the next few days. he held her waist as he started thrusting up into her, cock still hard even though he just came.

his breaths came out ragged, turning into moans and groans halfway as mikasa had her mouth open, no noise leaving her mouth as she had a deathly grip on the scarf around his neck. eren’s previous cum was oozing out of her with each of his brain-damaging thrusts, leaking back down onto his dick and his thighs. it was messy, sloppy, hard. just like eren likes it.

eren groaned as mikasa kept clenching around his cock, more cum sliding in and out of her, his thrusts hard and bruising, “harder,” he choked out. mikasa has a confused look on her face as she looked down at him, “choke me,” he said between pants, mikasa clenching around him with his words, “choke me, mikasa. harder.”

he was demanding something from her. for once, asking her to do it, she moaned as she tightened her grip around the scarf, adding one of her hands into the mix as she pressed her fingers around his neck and onto his popping veins.

he whined. eren jaeger fucking whined.

it was too much, mikasa clenched harder around his cock if that was even possible, her thighs shaking and her holds on his neck and the scarf tightening involuntarily.

he grunted and moaned, throwing his had back as he kept thrusting in her, “fuck— fuck— m-mikasa, i love you, i love you, love yo-“ cumming inside her with a loud groan, as she panted his name like a prayer.

they stilled, both of them spent as they had each came twice, mikasa could feel another patch of cum oozing out of her and onto eren’s still-hard dick.

they both opened their eyes at the same time, looking at eachother as mikasa’s grip on the scarf loosened, eren smiled, turning into a chuckle as mikasa snorted.

both of them breaking down into laughs as they were high on eachother.

••••••••••••••••••••••

there we go! as i promised, the other one got 30 likes so :p

hope you guys enjoyed oml- this was a whole ass ride. literally.

i absolutely wanted to write sum where eren is a teasing mf, laughing at mikasa for coming too soon- but mikasa being the badass she is— shows him he ain’t shit either 🥴

not me tearing up at the end tho-

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

tangle up the true and the fable

A/N: empires!scott and empires!jimmy have hella enemies to lovers vibes. so take enemies to hey-wait-were-we-lovers-in-a-past-life to friends. also joel and lizzie make a cameo appearance. title is from Rose by The Oh Hellos! (also reblogs > likes)

Warnings: arguing, death mention, flirting, cave-ins, cave spiders, injury, vague description of cave spider venom effects, nonchalant talk of the minecraft respawn mechanic, near death experiences, explosions, talk of past/alternate lives, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending

Summary: Jimmy doesn't understand why the ruler of Rivendell doesn't seem to like him. He supposes that going on a mining trip in Scott's mountains without asking permission doesn't exactly help matters much though. But when the two of them end up trapped in the caves, will they be able to set aside their differences to survive?

-

Jimmy should really start thinking before he did things. Like stealing- ahem. Borrowing some cake ingredients from Sausage, which in turn caused him to steal Jimmy's prized music disc. Or whatever was the deal with the Rivendell ruler, Scott. Jimmy wasn't sure what exactly he did to get on the elf's bad side, but Scott didn't seem to like him very much. Well... at least sometimes he seemed to hate Jimmy. Sometimes it seemed like... something else. Jimmy couldn't quite place it- maybe he did want to be best friends after all? But whatever the case, things were always a little tense between the rulers of the Cod Empire and Rivendell. And it seemed today was no exception.

He was in dire need of more materials, and the swamp wasn't very rich in caves. And Jimmy had already explored most of the caves in his empire. So while he couldn't entirely rationalize why, he decided to go on a trip to the mountains to gather materials. It was a stupid idea, going near the empire of someone who possibly hated him, but part of him hoped that he would see Scott. Maybe he could work out some sort of alliance instead of their squabbling and occasional attempts to kill each other. Besides, he wasn't going to the actual mountain Scott lived on, just the ones near his mountain. Surely that’d be far enough to not anger him, but close enough to suggest an amicable atmosphere? Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Jimmy had barely gotten deep in a cave in the mountains when Scott appeared, like he had some sort of “Jimmy-being-an-idiot” sixth sense. The elf admittedly was an imposing sight- enchanted diamond armor, an enchanted diamond axe strapped to his back, arms crossed over his chest, a golden circlet with antlers branching up from it, and blue eyes glinting with irritation. Those eyes seemed to see right through Jimmy, scrutinizing and seeing him for who he truly was. Not the Codfather, a strong leader- but a swamp boy whose sweet intentions got him into trouble more often than not.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, voice cold and unimpressed. Jimmy frowned at the elf’s tone.

“Mining,” Jimmy said simply, crossing his arms right back at Scott. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Obviously, but why are you doing so in my empire?” Scott asked pointedly.

“I’m not mining in your mountain though!” Jimmy protested, a little confused at Scott’s irritation. Scott let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on.

“Jimmy. All the mountains around here are mine,” Scott said bluntly, dropping his hand to glare at Jimmy. Well now he felt a little sheepish. But still, he didn’t understand why Scott had to get all irritated about it, maybe they could work something out. Jimmy took on an easygoing smile, causing Scott to knit his brows in confusion.

“I know I shouldn’t have been here, and I didn’t realize this mountain was part of your empire. If you want the materials I gathered, I’m more than willing to-”

“Oh, sorry about that, buddy! Tell you what, I’ll give you-”

“I’m not your buddy,” Scott said, cutting Jimmy off and causing his easy smile to melt away near instantly. Jimmy sighed.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just want you to leave,” Scott said, interrupting Jimmy again, and honestly it was getting pretty hard for Jimmy to continue being amicable if Scott was going to be like this for the whole conversation.

“Fine! I was only trying to come to a peaceful resolution here, no need to be a jerk like always,” Jimmy huffed, slinging his pickaxe over his shoulder and starting to head out of the cave. Scott made an irritated sound, quickly following after him.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being mean when you’re the one who showed up in my empire unannounced and unwanted!” Scott fumed, hands gesturing wildly as he kept up with Jimmy’s brisk pace.

“Like I said, didn’t realize this was part of your empire. And I’m leaving now, so you can stop following me,” Jimmy huffed. Scott stopped to stare at him incredulously, and Jimmy paused as well to raise an eyebrow at him.

“This cave only has one exit, you idiot. We both have to go this way,” Scott pointed out with a scoff. Jimmy made a frustrated sound, and was about to make a retort- but heard a hiss and saw a green shape ambling towards them from an unlit portion of the cave. Jimmy didn’t have time to draw his sword, and Scott was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice the creeper heading towards them. So in a split-second decision, Jimmy tackled Scott to the ground right before the creeper exploded and caused a chunk of the cave to crumble down right where the two of them had been standing. Debris showered over the two of them, and Jimmy instinctively shielded Scott from it, even though he had been shouting at the elf mere moments prior. The dust settled, and it was then he realized how close he and Scott were, their noses practically touching.

“You alright?” Jimmy asked, surprising himself with how soft and concerned his voice came out. Scott looked at him with wide eyes and an almost flustered expression, until he schooled it down into smooth indifference.

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner before you pin me like that,” Scott teased with a smirk. Jimmy rolled his eyes, getting up off of Scott before offering a hand to help him up.

“I think you’re supposed to thank me for saving your life,” Jimmy shot back. Scott scowled at him, ignoring the offered hand and getting to his feet on his own, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“Thank you for what? Tackling me and giving me a near concussion? Or the fact that we’re now both stuck here?” Scott asked, gesturing at the cave-in. Following the direction of Scott’s hand, Jimmy looked to the cave opening. Or rather, the lack of a cave opening. The creeper explosion must have hit some loose gravel in the ceiling, because the weak rock had given way to a whole mess of stone to fall and block off their only exit.

“Maybe we could dig through it?” Jimmy wondered. Scott rolled his eyes.

“With your luck, that would only make it worse. Besides I didn’t bring a pickaxe, and I don’t think you could dig that out by yourself. We’re just gonna have to turn around and hope there’s another way out,” Scott said, turning and heading deeper in the cave. Jimmy scrambled after him in protest.

“Or we could stay here and call for help! I’m sure one of my allies would be willing to help me, or maybe you’ve got a closer ally who’d be willing to dig us out-”

“No. We’re better off trying to find our own way out. Besides, I don’t have allies- having alliances means having enemies too, and I’d much rather stay above the conflict if you don’t mind,” Scott said, stubbornly continuing forward. Jimmy groaned, reluctantly following after Scott.

“Fine, have it your way. But you let me know when you change your mind,” Jimmy said, not having the energy to argue with Scott’s weird animosity towards alliances. So instead, he followed his not-really-enemy but not-really-friend either deeper into the darkness, torchlight their only savior.

-

Going deeper into the cave was not providing them with a way out. They did, however, come across a mineshaft- which was a small but still not great shimmering light of hope. It was possible the mineshaft could be connected to another cave that could lead them out, so braving the mineshaft it was. Besides, there could be good loot to be had- even if Scott claimed most of it since it was, technically, part of his empire. And that was fine with Jimmy, he was trying to offer what he had found to Scott earlier anway. However, there was one problem with mineshafts, and that was the tendency of cave spiders making their nests in them. And it figures with Jimmy’s rotten luck that they would come across one of those nests. And even worse, Jimmy managed to get a hand caught in one of the webs at the edge of it.

“Stop struggling, you’re just gonna alert them that we’re here!” Scott hissed, trying to cut away at the cobwebs ensnaring Jimmy’s hand.

“If you cut at it any slower, they’re just gonna see us anyway!” Jimmy whisper-shouted back, but kept his hand still as Scott asked anyhow. But of course, as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of the cave spiders had noticed them. It jumped at Jimmy, but Scott moved in front of him just in time to intercept it instead, and struggled only for a moment before he managed to kill it. Scott was hunched over for a moment, trying to catch his breath- and despite his warnings not to, Jimmy yanked his hand free from the cobwebs to rush to his side, seeing the glittering red eyes in the distance. He opened his mouth to ask if Scott was alright, but he abruptly stood upright and pushed Jimmy towards a corridor of the mineshaft that was not infested with cave spiders.

“Go, we gotta get out of here!” he cried, running and pulling Jimmy along with him. Jimmy didn’t argue, keeping pace with Scott and cutting down a few cave spiders that got too close. They ran and turned down corridor after corridor, until they were sure that the spiders had lost interest. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath, and Jimmy eyed Scott with concern. He was holding his shoulder and looked rather pale- well, paler than usual.

“Scott?” Jimmy asked, voice gentle. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, like Jimmy had spoken too loudly, and took a beat longer to respond than Jimmy would have liked.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, not very convincingly at all. Jimmy frowned, stepping forward and reaching for the hand Scott had clasped tightly over his own shoulder. Jimmy instantly knew something was wrong when Scott didn’t push him away and let him remove his hand. Scott’s hand came away slick with blood, and Jimmy hissed in sympathy at the sickly green state of the wound. Cave spider bite, right in the gap of Scott’s armor. And it seemed the venom was working pretty fast through his system. Suddenly, as if taking his hand off of his shoulder had sapped all his energy, Scott’s knees gave out and he collapsed into Jimmy. With a startled gasp, Jimmy managed to catch Scott, wrapping his free arm around his waist and trying to keep him somewhat upright. His hand still clutched Scott’s, and his hand had shifted to clutch Jimmy’s back just as tightly. His head drooped down to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, the antlers of his circlet poking him slightly, and a cold spike of fear shot through Jimmy at how feverish Scott’s forehead felt against his neck. Scott had only just been bitten. If he was in such bad shape already… Jimmy didn’t want to think about it.

“You’re hot,” Jimmy blurted, a little horrified. Scott let out a borderline delirious chuckle.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Scott teased, voice weak with pain. Jimmy let out a startled laugh.

“Scott, quit flirting for one minute, you’re dying,” Jimmy reprimanded, a little shocked at how wobbly his own voice sounded.

“I’ll just respawn, it’s not the end of the world. Nice to know you care though,” Scott said tiredly, although Jimmy could hear the slight smile in his voice. Jimmy froze a bit at his words. Yeah… that was right, Scott would just respawn. He’d lose his stuff and his enchantment levels, but he’d wake up in bed, right as rain. So why was Jimmy so worried for a moment? Why did Scott dying in his arms suddenly feel like the end of the world? And most baffling of all, why did the thought of losing someone who was at most an acquaintance rattle him so much? Yet here he was, clinging to Scott like he would disappear forever.

“I… of course I care! You’re the one who’s pushing me away, not the other way around,” Jimmy said, deciding not to address the fact that he had somehow forgotten about respawning being a thing. Scott laughed humorlessly, and him not having any sort of witty response was extremely telling of how worse off Scott was doing. He had been leaning into Jimmy more and more throughout the weak banter, and Jimmy finally knelt down and shifted Scott to be comfortably resting in his lap, his head still leaning on his shoulder, but turned so that Jimmy could see him.

“Your face makes for a pretty last thing to see before I die,” Scott said softly, and Jimmy blinked in surprise, unsure of how to take that.

“Didn’t realize a side effect of cave spider venom was delirium,” Jimmy settled on, causing Scott to let out a pained wheeze of a laugh.

“Think the side effect is actually brutal honesty,” Scott said, sounding a little wistful. Okay, well Jimmy really didn’t know how to respond to that. Scott, dying in his arms and looking at him all soft and adoring like Jimmy was a- a lover or something. So maybe it was that gentle look in Scott’s eyes even as he was dying, or Jimmy not wanting to deal with the blood of a fellow ruler on his hands, or just not wanting to watch someone die in general that caused him to shift and reach for something in his bag he had found in their journey through the mineshaft. He held out a golden apple to Scott, who looked at it with confusion.

“Nabbed it from a chest when you weren’t looking. I know you’ll just respawn, but cave spider venom is a pretty terrible way to go,” Jimmy said, smiling softly. Scott just blinked, not moving to take the apple.

“Jimmy-”

“Shut up and take the apple, Scott,” Jimmy insisted, for once cutting Scott off instead of the other way around. Scott sighed, and with a shaking hand, he grabbed the apple and took a bite. Almost immediately, color came back to Scott’s face and the green started to recede from the shoulder wound. A few more bites, and the bleeding stopped, the wound started closing up, and Scott was no longer leaning on Jimmy so heavily. He did, however, seem perfectly content to stay in Jimmy’s arms. Jimmy couldn’t really find it in himself to detach himself from Scott either.

“Thanks,” Scott said softly, like he was afraid to say it, after he had finished the apple. Jimmy chuckled.

“I should be thanking you, you’re the one who threw yourself between me and that cave spider,” Jimmy said, immensely glad that he remembered finding the golden apple before it was too late. Otherwise Scott, who usually didn’t seem to like him, would have died because of Jimmy.

“You saved me from the creeper earlier, I was just repaying the favor. Of course now I owe you again, because you healed me,” Scott said with a mock irritated tone, grinning all the while. Jimmy unceremoniously dumped him on the cave floor for that, ignoring his startled shout of protest to instead stand up.

“Well, maybe you could repay me by finally letting me contact one of my allies to help us,” Jimmy replied with a grin of his own. Scott pouted a little, still grumpy about being forcibly moved off of Jimmy’s lap.

“That was rude, I’m still recovering! Jerk,” Scott huffed, but there was no true anger in his tone. Jimmy shook his head fondly, offering a hand to Scott. He took it, and only stumbled a little bit as he got back to his feet. Fortunately Jimmy was there to steady him, ignoring the “I-told-you-so” look Scott gave him.

“You’ll live, thanks to me. Now can I message for help so that we can get out of here?” Jimmy asked. Scott let out a dramatic sigh.

“I guess so. Give them the coordinates for the cave entrance, we can head back in that direction and meet them halfway,” Scott said. Jimmy nodded, getting out his communicator to send a message to Joel.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna stay in this mineshaft any longer than we have to,” Jimmy said as he typed. Scott hovered over his shoulder, correcting Jimmy on the coordinate numbers before he sent the message off to Joel. Luckily, Joel wasn’t busy and responded fairly quickly, saying that he was on his way.

“Ready to get out of here?” Scott asked, once Jimmy had read Joel’s message to him.

“Absolutely,” Jimmy said, pocketing his communicator and walking side by side with Scott.

-

They reached the cave-in before Joel had arrived, but they didn’t have to wait too long before they heard Joel calling out for them. It seemed Lizzie had come along as well, as Jimmy could hear her voice along with Joel’s. He was a little surprised to hear her, as Jimmy wasn’t officially allied with Lizzie, but he supposed it made sense. Lizzie was married to Joel, and Lizzie’s empire was connected to Jimmy’s by water.

“We’re here!” Jimmy called back.

“Oh good, you didn’t kill each other,” Joel called back, a smile in his voice. Jimmy rolled his eyes, even if Joel couldn’t see him.

“I’ll have you know I saved Scott twice in these caves,” Jimmy shot back with a grin. Scott groaned in annoyance.

“You’re gonna hold this over my head, aren’t you,” Scott grumbled.

“Only a little bit,” Jimmy replied, relieved when Scott wasn’t actually all that annoyed, due to the chuckle he got in response.

“Stand back boys, I’ve got TNT!” Lizzie exclaimed, breaking the moment of banter. Scott and Jimmy exchanged wide-eyed glances, scrambling away from the rubble.

“Uh… you do know that explosions are what got us into this mess in the first place, right?” Scott asked nervously.

“It’ll be faster than trying to dig you out,” Joel replied, before the click of a flint and steel was heard.

“Does it alarm you at all that they have TNT already?” Scott whispered.

“They’re my allies. Or at least Joel is. Not sure why Lizzie came along, actually,” Jimmy replied with a shrug. Before Scott could reply, the TNT went off, destroying the rubble and revealing Joel and Lizzie on the other side.

“When I heard Joel was off to rescue the sweet swamp boy, I had to come along!” Lizzie said with a grin, poking her head through the hole in the rubble. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment at the nickname, while Scott was poorly hiding his laugh behind a cough.

“She was with me when I got your message, I figured the extra help couldn’t hurt,” Joel explained.

“Well thank you, both of you. We really appreciate it,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the hole in the rubble with Lizzie’s help.

“You’re welcome! Although it sounds like you had the rescuing Scott part handled,” she teased with a wink.

“Hey! The only reason he saved me the second time was because I got bit by a cave spider that was coming for him. So I did some saving too,” Scott protested as he followed Jimmy out. Joel looked to Scott with concern.

“Do you need any health potions? I brought some just in case,” Joel offered, starting to dig through his pack.

“Nah, Jimmy gave me a golden apple that he stole from me,” Scott said, nudging Jimmy playfully. Jimmy laughed, pushing at him back.

“I didn’t steal it, I just took it from a minecart chest before you noticed it,” Jimmy retorted.

“A minecart chest that was in my empire,” Scott shot back with a grin. Jimmy was going to snap back, but Lizzie came to stand in between them.

“How about we leave before any more near death situations happen,” she suggested. Both Jimmy and Scott smiled sheepishly, before following Lizzie and Joel out of the cave.

-

The four of them had made it back to Scott’s home, with plenty of daylight to spare for the long journey Jimmy, Lizzie, and Joel had ahead of them to their own empires. Jimmy had told Joel and Lizzie to go on, saying that he would catch up with them in a bit. He wanted to talk to Scott first. About what, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he felt like he couldn’t just up and leave right away without saying something, not after everything that had happened. But for the moment, the two of them were stood in the entryway of Scott’s house a little awkwardly. Scott’s home was bigger than the last time Jimmy had seen it, but part of him was touched to see that he still had the pufferfish- rather the pufferish- mounted above his door. Jimmy wasn’t exactly sure why he had given Scott a misspelled token of peace, but it had just felt… right.

“So… have you changed your mind on alliances at all?” Jimmy asked, settling on teasing Scott a bit instead of tackling any sort of emotional conversation right away. Scott let out a mildly bitter laugh.

“I… will admit that there are advantages to having alliances. And you, Lizzie, and Joel seem alright. I just… well, if I’m being totally honest, I’m not really opposed to alliances… it’s just- it’s like there’s this part of me, maybe something from a past life, that knows that getting tangled up in alliances can lead to war and loss,” Scott said, heartbreak lacing his words. Jimmy frowned in sympathy. He didn’t know what Scott had been through before starting an empire, but it sounded like it was nothing fun. He put a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder- and was instantly greeted with a flurry of images both familiar and unfamiliar. A flower forest. Homes carved into hills. Decaying skin and burnt banners. Flowers nestled in teal hair. Being helpless to watch as a loved one- a husband?- was shot down. Darkness, then light again. Then a feeling of home, and a joyful reunion.

Jimmy jerked back from Scott like had been burned. The real world filtered back into view with Scott wide-eyed and surprised as Jimmy was. What- what was that? They felt like memories, or maybe a dream. And the person with teal hair, the husband?! That was undeniably Scott, just far less regal and with rounded ears, not pointed ones. Jimmy wasn’t sure what that was, but suddenly the fear of losing Scott in the mineshaft made a startling amount of sense.

“Did you… see that?” Jimmy asked. Maybe he was hallucinating, did he get bit by a cave spider too? Maybe this was all some weird fever dream.

“I- yeah. I was kind of kidding about the past life thing… but was that even us? Or just… I dunno, a version of us from an alternate reality?” Scott pondered, looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. Jimmy found himself looking at the pufferish of peace. Was that something significant in that… other life? Or was that truly something of his own volition?

“Must be some sort of alternate reality, I think we were married,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Scott laughed as well, shaking his head.

“Yeah, can you imagine? Why would I marry some swamp boy?” Scott teased.

“And why would I marry a stuffy elf ruler?” Jimmy teased right back. The two of them laughed, but there was regret and maybe a smidge of longing tinged in both of their voices.

“I think I could at least stand being allied with some swamp boy,” Scott said softly, after a moment of silence. Jimmy smiled.

“Allies it is then,” Jimmy said, holding out his hand. Scott gingerly took it, and when there weren't any flashes of alternate or past lives, he shook it firmly.

“Allies,” Scott said, squeezing Jimmy’s hand before letting go. Jimmy bid him goodbye, exiting his home to meet up with Lizzie and Joel. And maybe, just maybe, Jimmy allowed himself to treasure the little flutter his heart made when Scott had squeezed his hand. He was sure his past- or alternate, who knows- self would appreciate it.

-

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[catflorist]

Stars (ao3/ffn) catflorist warning: major character death

Sasuke joined the Akatsuki for simple reasons. He heard they had a plan to destroy the shinobi world, and he wanted a part of it. 

As a blizzard raged in the cold northern air, he followed a dark-robed figure into a passageway carved into the cliffside of a snow-capped mountain. The tunnel twisted and turned, snaking past cavernous rooms and rocky chambers. Akatsuki forces milled about everywhere, red clouds hovering on dark cloaks everywhere he looked. His guide, Konan, led him past without stopping.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To our leader,” Konan said, leading him deeper. “She says she knows you.”

He was sure they were halfway through the mountain before she stopped by a metal door. 

“Wait here.” 

She knocked and the door opened a crack. Whispered words were exchanged, too low for Sasuke to overhear.

“You’ll have to wait,” Konan said. “She's still bathing.”

Sasuke was annoyed. Why was Karin going through these theatrics? He hadn’t seen her for months, not since disbanded the team and left to face Itachi alone. How she’d ended up in the Akatsuki he couldn't guess. Not only that, she somehow had all of them tiptoeing around her. 

“Tell Karin I don't have time to wait,” he snapped.

Konan gave him a curious look, but stayed silent.

“What?”

“Enter,” a voice called from inside. The way it echoed off the rock, it didn't sound like Karin’s voice at all.

He stormed in. Torches lit the dark room in a flickering glow, and the air felt warm. A shadowed figure rose from a steaming pool of water. An attendant held out a billowing Akatsuki robe, helping guide arms through sleeves. 

When the light caught her face, shock ripped through him. Because it wasn’t Karin.

Her pink hair was dripping wet, her cheeks hollowed. She pulled on glasses over red-rimmed eyes pinched with pain, the green irises huge beneath the thick lenses. The dark robe slipped off bare, bony shoulders—was that all she was wearing? He averted his eyes, stared at the steam curled in the air. His guard down, his chakra stretched out to meet hers of its own accord. But there was nothing. 

He recoiled. How was that possible? She should be dead.

A diamond mark on her forehead pulsed like the core of a star, the only part of her with any vitality, energy. That and her eyes—they were still bright and sharp. The rest was fading.

“It's good to see you,” Sakura said.

.

.

It didn’t take long for Sasuke to understand. The chakra stored in Sakura’s seal was all that kept her alive, and one day it would run out. 

At the same time, it all depended on her, it seemed, the meticulously planned attack on the shinobi world. She was its life force. Every ounce of her remaining chakra was rationed and monitored, planned in advance for that day. It was all anyone talked about, the reason why heads lowered in respect when speaking Sakura’s name.

To fill his time Sasuke accepted mission after mission. He brought back intel, took out troublesome political figures, and weakened supply chains, doing anything they asked of him to prepare for the attack on Konoha, three months away.

He avoided Sakura.

One night Konan pushed aside the curtain hanging in the door of his small chamber, an alcove in the stone set apart from the other Akatsuki members. “You’re back. What was it this time?”

“We intercepted a shipment of weapons,” he said. “They’re waiting in the meeting room.”

“When do you set out again?”

“I don’t know yet. What do you want?”

Konan met his eyes. “She wants to see you.”

He crossed his arms. “Tell her I'm busy.”

“You think you’re so important,” she said in that calm, mild way of hers. “You wouldn’t act this way, if you truly understood the magnitude of what she’s doing for us. For the world.”

Overcome with sudden anger, Sasuke forgot he came to the Akatsuki willingly, that each day he helped advance its mission. That he too hated what their world had done to his family. 

“It's all for nothing!” he spat. “You’re throwing her away. For nothing.”

“You’re selfish. It’s no wonder you don’t understand sacrifice.”

He grit his teeth. “Find another way.”

“She’s dying already,” she said. “She’s just making something from the time she has left. What have you done with your life?”

Sakura was frozen. Dying. Sasuke pictured her in a land of ice, the snowy expanse that surrounded the mountain lit by a weak and wintery sun. Perhaps she could stretch her life a few years, each day lighting her chakra no brighter than a candle’s fire, barely warming her hands in the cold. 

Instead she would burn up all at once, quick and hot and bright, like an exploding star, and maybe something would grow after the flames cooled. Fire always led to life in some way after all. She would not wait to freeze to death. 

“Go away,” Sasuke snarled. The curtain was already flapping in the doorway.

.

.

Sasuke stormed through the hideout after a botched assignment. What should have been a simple scouting mission had turned into a bloodbath after a surprise ambush. The hidden villages were growing more hostile and clever as the day of the attack drew nearer. 

He didn’t pay attention to his loud footsteps, the eyes following him in fear, until a figure darted into his path. One of Sakura’s attendants, blocking his way with an outstretched arm, a finger held to her lips. 

“What?”

“She's asleep.” Her voice was hushed, like discussing a sleeping god. Not his old, annoying pink-haired teammate. 

Sasuke stepped back. “So?”

“It's the first time in three days.”

Sasuke realized the hideout was utterly quiet except for their conversation. If he listened hard enough he might hear snow falling outside. 

An old memory flashed through him. When they were genin, taking missions as a team, how much Sakura hated waking up in the morning. She’d groan and clutch her pillow, though she’d always get up and help him with their breakfast anyway. That Sakura would never struggle to fall asleep for three days. How things had changed.

Sasuke knew when she woke up, because the deathly silence in the compound lifted. Foot traffic picked up again, the scent of cooking food from the mess hall drifted through the halls.

He walked down the twisted passageway to the metal door, following the route he’d memorized, though he hadn’t ventured this way since Konan led him the first time. He pushed open the doors without knocking.

A wide futon was spread on the ground, where Sakura lay against soft pillows. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell from the stiffness of her shoulders that she was awake.

“Sakura,” he said.

Her head turned, set deep in the pillows like it held a heavy weight. She did not look surprised to see him, did not ask why he’d avoided her for weeks. “Sit down.”

With some reluctance, he lowered himself on the edge of the futon. Steam curled in the air, and water gurgled somewhere hidden, feeding the spring. Beneath the blanket, Sakura’s legs shifted gingerly.

“What happened to you?” he said.

“It’s this world,” she said. “Person after person, sent out to get killed. To protect someone else’s money, or goods, or to fight in pointless wars. And the survivors, they sent them all to me. It never ended.”

She closed her eyes again. “I healed, and healed, until something inside me broke. I couldn’t make chakra anymore. Without my seal I would have died then and there.”

Without meaning to, Sasuke’s hand stretched out, brushing her forehead, where the mark lay. Her brow was feverishly hot. 

“That’s nice,” she whispered. He was about to pull away, but his fingers changed course, trailing into her hair, drawing a sigh. He didn’t know what to do. It was a long time since he’d tried to be gentle. He tried to think of what he liked as a child, the comforting touches he received from his mother, or Itachi, a lifetime ago.

When he finally lifted his hand, the cords of her neck seemed less tense, her head less heavy on the pillow.

She exhaled. “I was dying. I’d given everything away, but still they wanted more. That’s why I’m here. The way this world is, it can’t go on. Everything I have left is going into changing it.”

“This world won’t change,” he muttered.

A thin arm emerged from the blankets, fumbling at her bedside for her glasses. She slipped the frames on, appraising him with large eyes. “Then why are you here?”

.

.

This new Sakura was a stranger in many ways. She carried herself with a quiet calmness, a stillness, like she’d lived longer than her years. When she walked down the corridors of the hideout, heads bowed. At gatherings, she barely needed to speak louder than a whisper, because everyone listening hung onto her every word. 

Knowing she favored him, the members of the Akatsuki looked differently at Sasuke, too. They brought him into their meeting rooms, seeking his advice and ideas. He learned why each of them wanted to destroy the shinobi system. Its claws had harmed others beyond himself. He started to believe they could truly build something new. Something better, that would never force older brothers into cruel and heartless choices.

When Sasuke returned from a mission he found Sakura sitting on a ledge under the stars, snow gently falling around her. They were high up on the mountain, but the sky was white and hazy in all directions, so he could barely tell where they were or what lay in the distance beyond the haze.

“What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”

“I like the fresh air.”

He sat next to her, knowing it was useless to argue. Everyone knew Sakura did as she wanted. 

“My father used to use his katon on days like this. His fireball was strong enough to span the whole length of the lake. But when it was cold, he used it to warm his breath.”

“Show me,” she said.

His hands shaped the quick signs. When he exhaled, a soft puff of fire curled out, a flash of red and orange warming their icy surroundings. “Like this.”

Sakura watched him with furrowed brows. “Can you teach me?”

“Yes, but…” He stopped, tried again. “You can’t...”

“I can’t use my chakra,” she said. “But I can still learn.”

He took her hands. “Serpent, ram, monkey, boar, horse, tiger.” He didn’t need to, but he shaped her fingers through the signs. “Pull the chakra into your throat. Let it churn. Exhale.”

Sakura mimed the signs, paused in concentration so the chakra could build. Of course, it was only pretend. She exhaled. Her cold breath hung in the air, the furthest thing from fire.

“Thank you. I understand now. Your katon always fascinated me.” She opened her eyes. “Once, I saw you practicing in the distance. I secretly hoped, one day, you would teach me yourself.”

Bitterness filled him. “Not like this.”

“This is enough,” she said, her voice kind.

He thought about young Sakura—energetic and talkative, irritating, nervous around him. He pictured her, watching as he exhaled fire, wishing. The way her voice sounded as she spoke to his back, because he didn’t have the strength to turn and look at her, begging him to stay, or to take her with him. 

“Did you mean what you said? The night I left?”

For once she didn’t meet his eyes. “That I loved you? Yes, I meant it.” Then her calm returned. “I’m glad you’ve thought about it since then.”

He felt the urge to throw her off guard, to catch a glimpse of the girl from his memories.

“You still love me,” he accused.

Her eyes seemed to sadden. She touched his face, her hand growing warm. He wrenched away, but it was too late. A cut on his cheek was healed. 

He held his cheek like she had burned him. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m in control. I know how much I have left. Shouldn’t I be able to do what I want with it?”

Her hand remained outstretched. He gripped her wrist tightly, so tight it must hurt, and threw it away from himself.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

.

.

“Why are you always bathing?” Sasuke asked her once.

Shameless, she stood up in the bath, reaching for her robe. He tried very hard to ignore her body, only glancing up when he was sure the robe was around her. The front hung loose, only her hand clasping it together.

“It hurts less in the water.”

Her eyes always gave everything away. Even when they were kids. They said everything she was thinking. When he met her eyes now, he was dazed to find unguarded curiosity, desire. The difference now was she put it bluntly to words.

“Haven't you wondered?” she said.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t. He was wondering now, painfully aware of how his body was reacting to her there, so close, so easy to touch. 

“It doesn't matter,” he said. “You’re—you’re sick.” Dying. But he couldn't say that. “I could hurt you.”

“I've never been as fragile as you thought I was.”

She let the cloak slip. It draped down low, revealing the narrow expanse from the hollow of her throat to the space between her breasts. Sasuke heard a small noise escape his throat, a strangled cry. And he was crossing the room, because he couldn't refuse her, not when it was something he also wanted so badly. Each footfall shed away the time and distance built up between them, laying in his wake like shed layers, so by the time he got to her he already felt naked. 

He walked straight into her touch, her palm pressing against his heart, the other curling around his nape. He slipped her glasses off, let them fall, secretly hoping they’d break on the stone ground. He hated them.

In the dark, as he leaned in to kiss her, he could almost imagine they were somewhere else. In a soft bedroom, in a life they lived together, elsewhere. But he could not ignore the echoes sounding off the rock walls, the feeling of emptiness handing over their heads, the cold pressing in.

.

.

Sasuke stared up at the sky, his back to the dirt.

Around him, battle was waging. The day they’d all been waiting for, fueled with Sakura’s remaining chakra, was almost over. He didn’t know which way the tide was pulling now. He could only feel the hole in his side and know for him it was over.

When he next opened his eyes, everything was green, like he was lying on the forest floor. It wasn’t what he expected death to be like. But Sakura was there, leaning over him. He smiled, washed with relief. At least, even in this place, they had found each other. It was such a comfort, it didn’t matter to him what happened next.

He tried to sit up, and pain tore through him, though it was fading quickly. His eyelids drooped. Sakura’s hands shifted across his body, so warm.

“Can I go back to sleep?” he mumbled.

She cupped his cheek. “Yes, my love.”

He almost listened to her, but strange sounds reached his ears. Metal clashing, screaming. He cracked open his heavy eyes. A body lay close by, red staining the ground beneath. Above him, Sakura’s face was streaked with dirt and tears.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“My part is over,” she said, hands rooted to his chest like an ancient tree to the earth, unwavering and sure. “I have some left. Just enough.”

His body rippled with an electric shock. “Don’t, Sakura!” 

He struggled to move, but she held him down with an iron grip.

“Just take it!” she cried. “What else would I do with it?”

It was always coming to this, he knew. But he wasn’t ready. He needed her to stay just a little longer. There was so much he still needed to tell her. 

“One more day,” he begged. “You could stay just one more day.” 

Her green eyes were like a storm, and as she steamed the last of her chakra into him, she didn’t look like she was dying. She looked as strong as he remembered. “If I stop now you’ll die.”

That night, when he left the village, he should have taken her with him. Taken her far, far, away. Why had he left her there? What use were his prized eyes and Uchiha blood if he couldn’t see the right choice to make? 

“Don't leave,” he gasped. It was hard to see her, tears blurring his vision. “Please don't leave.”

Her hands softly slipped from his chest. “It’s okay, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice came from far away. “Just go back to sleep.”

The mark faded from her forehead like a star at dawn.

.

.

Konoha fell. The world was raw and overturned. Burning, and growing, and burning, and growing. One day, Sasuke would want to see it. For now he returned to the mountain, to Sakura’s pool.

He floated in the water, weightless, aching with the life she’d given him.

.

.

.

.

notes: a longer multi chapter is coming soon, but for now take this, and sorry