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hugmekenobi · 8 months

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Next Steps

A Bad Batch Post S2 Oneshot

Gif by @im-no-jedi

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Although your return to the Batch has made things better, there are still elements of your past you have to face...

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, made-up timeline and what I imagine what Echo will be doing, limited use of y/n, swearing, my views on mindsets, referenced 'dead' characters and nightmares, mentions/descriptions of torture, detailed scar descriptions, angst, light fluff, nickname 'sweetheart', some emotional hurt/comfort, body and general worship, Hunter being dominant but a consent king, hint of a praise kink, Smut (non-explicit descriptions of making out/kissing, grinding, edging, fingering, oral (f) receiving, overstimulation, handjob, unprotected p in v- not in reality please), reader described as strong and powerful, smart and beautiful, Force-communication and more of my general interpretation of how the Force feels/works

Masterlist for S1 and S2

Word Count: 12.8K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Once again, a massive thank you to @burningfieldof-clover for helping me when I got stuck and who I am very grateful to have as a friend! Dropping this before S3 graces our screens and I hope you all enjoy!

Chibbier

Echo waited in the forest clearing as the Marauder touched down. “I got your message. It sounded urgent, is everything alright?” Echo asked as soon as the door to the Marauder opened revealing his two brothers.

“Everything is fine, Echo.” Hunter said.

“More than fine.” Wrecker emphasised.

“But we agreed we weren’t to meet until (Y/N) was back with us so unless you’ve found her…” He trailed off as he saw the smile tugging at Wrecker’s mouth and Hunter in particular seemed more at ease than he’d been in the recent months. “Wait a second, you mean-”

“Hey stranger.” You said with a grin as you came into view and stood between Hunter and Wrecker. You laughed as Echo’s expression changed from stunned to happy then to relief in quick succession. You jogged down the steps and embraced him tightly. “Long time no see.”

“I’ll say.” Echo replied with a smile as he mirrored your actions. “You had me worried.”

“Worried?” You queried. It sounded like he had a specific worry in mind rather than the general worries that had plagued the rest of you for months.

“Last news of you I’d heard had me getting ready to tell the boys to launch a rescue mission.” Echo said as he parted from you. “But lucky for us, they found you before I needed to share that.”

If you weren’t so happy to see him, you could’ve punched him. You weren’t far away enough from the other two and you knew Echo’s words wouldn’t go unheard, especially by the clone with enhanced senses. You hadn’t gotten around to sharing that part of your time alone and you weren’t sure that you wanted to either.

Hunter hadn’t forgotten that there was something about your past that you weren’t telling him. He’d noticed small shifts and changes in your behaviour since you’d been back. It was things like you made sure to keep your top layer on at all times and if you had to take it off, you would always go to the refresher regardless of it you were alone or not which was something you never used to do. You hadn’t communicated with either him or Wrecker in the silent way you were able to do where they’d hear your voice in their head which was something you did regularly in the past. You were also more emotionally and physically distant, the latter happening at night in particular and ordinarily it wouldn’t bother him, but he knew the cause was rooted in something you’d gone through. But every time he tried to broach the issue, you refused to talk about whatever it was that was causing it, and it pained him that he could do nothing but watch the negative impact it continued to have on you.

“What’s going on with, Omega? Any new leads?” You asked Echo instead, ignoring Hunter’s hand that now rested on your upper arm.

“(Y/N)-”

“Not now, Hunter. Please.”

Hunter released a quiet and resigned sigh. He wanted to help you if he could, but he also knew he had to wait until you were ready. It was just getting harder to do that.

Echo glanced between the two of you. “I said something I shouldn’t have, didn’t I?”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. Just fill us in.”

Echo’s eyes darted to Hunter who only nodded. He took a breath and waited for Wrecker to join the three of you. “Nothing new. Imperial security on Hemlock is tight and any breakthrough just results in more cryptic information.”

“Yeah, we’ve had much of the same.” You agreed irritably.

Echo nodded before he faced Hunter. “I know we said that we’d come together once we had (Y/N) back with us, but I think it’s better if I stay doing what I’m doing. Rex and I are going to meet and try to pool together what we’ve gathered. We can tell you what we find and send you to follow up on other sources since we can’t cover everything ourselves and you can also keep searching on your own.”

Before Hunter could form a reply, the sound of branches snapping grabbed his attention.

The blaster bolt that immediately followed the noise, skimmed the armour on your upper arm.

You all reacted quickly and took cover behind the trees.

The onslaught of fire was being directed towards you and would only occasionally be aimed to your fellow clones as a way to keep them from advancing towards the source. Evidently you were the main target here.

“Hunter!” You shouted over the sound of blaster fire. When he pressed his back against the tree trunk and his helmet looked over to you, you called on the Force and dragged the assailant out from their spot, and a well-aimed shot from Hunter saw to it that the blaster was rendered useless. You kept that link with your ally to Force-push them into another tree, and they crumbled to the floor.

All of you lowered your blaster for the moment. You needed to find out why they were here, killing them immediately wouldn’t get you very far.

You stepped out from behind your tree and observed the bounty hunter carefully. Throughout the firefight, you’d felt yourself being pulled towards them, but you couldn’t work out why and that urge hadn’t gone away.

Stiff and unsteady movements had you readying your blaster again but as the hunter got to their feet and caught your eye, you understood why that feeling was there.

Your heart stopped and you stayed rooted to the spot as you saw the blade ignite from the hilt they were holding. The ground around them illuminated in a pale blue haze and you understood what was calling you to the hunter now. Your feet suddenly began moving of their own accord.

The other three all shared a collective bewildered look at what was unfolding in front of them.

Hunter collected his shock quickly and raised his hand to order the others to halt their fire as you fully stepped out to into the clearing.

The bounty hunter charged for you, but the attack posed little threat to you. Whoever this was had no idea how to use an elegant weapon like this and their grip was heavy and clumsy. It wouldn’t take much for you to disarm them.

You ducked under their reckless and uncoordinated swing, grabbed their wrist, and bent it back until the weapon fell from their grasp. You landed a hard kick to their chest, and they stumbled back. The hood fell loose- now exposing a feminine face- but she wasn’t a bounty hunter you recognised. You didn’t have much time to dwell on that since she grabbed a small knife from her boot and jabbed it towards your stomach. You parried away her strikes before you grew tired of dragging this altercation out. Landing a strong punch to her jaw, you used her dazed disposition to Force-pull her face down to the forest floor and waved the others forward.

Hunter and Wrecker pressed their knees into her back and brought her arms around to firmly hold them behind her.

You paid little attention to what they were doing. You hesitantly walked over to the weapon left discarded on the ground.

“Who hired you?” Hunter demanded as he held her down.

“Fuck off.” She snarled as she fought against their grip, but they were too strong, and she was in a much weaker position than she’d been in ten minutes ago.

Echo merely bent down to reach into her jacket pocket and pulled out the tracking fob and bounty puck. Your holographic image confirming what they’d all suspected.

Upon seeing that, Hunter found himself pushing his knee deeper into her spine, paying little attention to her groans of protest.

“Where did you get this?” You questioned softly, more to yourself than anything. You kept your back turned to her as you knelt down and studied the familiar design on the hilt. You couldn’t pick it up, not yet. You knew what you would feel if you did, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

“What?” The bounty hunter snapped as she went for another attempt to wriggle free, but the two clones kept her tight to the forest floor.

You stiffened your posture as you turned on your heels and strode over to her. You lowered your mask, found your voice, and crouched down to her eye level. “Where did you get the lightsaber?” You pointed back to where the weapon still lay abandoned.

“I’m not telling you a thing, Jedi brat.” She spat.

At her words, Hunter twisted her arm harder, ignoring her pained cry.

You signalled to Hunter to ease up and you stood tall once more and indicated to them both to get her on her feet.

Once they did so, you pressed your blaster against her stomach and brought your lips close to her ear- your voice a quiet but lethal whisper. “You know who I am and what I’ve done to people to get what I want. Do you want to be next?” At her harsh gulp, you kept pushing. “I can’t imagine what that’ll do for your reputation in your community... then again, maybe I can… shall we find out?” You knew you’d done enough as you sensed her flicker of fear. You took a step back and looked at her with a firm glare.

“It was the client I did the job for.” She muttered begrudgingly. She wasn’t about to be maimed or die for a job that wasn’t paying all that much in the first place. She’d worked too hard to be seen as a contender, she couldn’t lose that now.

“And who was that?” Hunter asked again, his voice steely.

“Some shop owner.” She replied irritably.

“A name.” You insisted.

“I can’t remember.”

You puffed out an exasperated sigh and took a half step forward.

“Kedrin! His name was Kedrin!” She revealed fretfully.

You saw the shared look between Hunter and Wrecker. “That name mean something to you?”

Wrecker nodded. “He was the one that told us to go to Christophsis to find you.”

The name meant nothing to you upon initially hearing it but evidently you were involved somehow. You ran the information over in your head. Shop owner… Kedrin… Christophsis… it was starting to make sense in your head and that would mean… Your breath caught in your throat as it hit you. You hadn’t even known his name and you’d taken his only family away from him.

“Why set the bounty on her?” Echo asked coolly, keeping his blaster focused on her.

“Not really supposed to ask.” She grunted. “He just mentioned a dead brother.” She saw the flash of something in your eyes… it looked like regret. “Oh… you killed him.”

You glared at her. You hadn’t had time to fill Echo in yet and this was not how you wanted to go about it.

Echo’s eyes darted from her to you. “What is she talking about?”

“Echo…” You started but a cruel laugh from the bounty hunter interrupted you.

“Oh, she’s achieved quite the reputation. Can’t go far in the Outer Rim without coming across someone who had dealings with her.”

Echo angled his head to face you, but you wouldn’t meet his gaze. As hard as you were trying to hide it, you looked… ashamed?

“Back off.” Wrecker growled at the hunter as he saw your mask of composure slip for a moment.

“What’s the matter, Jedi? Suddenly the killing and torture got too much for you? If they were all as weak as you, no wonder they’re all gone.” She taunted mercilessly.

“Shut up.” Hunter snarled as he saw the way your fists clenched as you worked on keeping your distress at bay.

But you knew it was a pointless venture. Despite her current predicament, that bounty hunter arrogance was in full flow now that she’d discovered your weakness, and she wasn’t about to stop. Her stare was filled with malice, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of turning away. Your shoulders heaved as you worked on keeping your breathing even and controlled.

The bounty hunter addressed the clones now. "I didn’t get much guidance from my client aside from ‘kill her’ so ever since I picked up that bounty, I've been trying to think of the most chaotic way to take her out. She's obviously felt enough emotional turmoil that an easy death would be a mercy. Jedi don't deserve the luxury. I like to play with my food before I kill it."

“And how’s that worked out for you?” You retorted though your conviction was weak as her words found their mark and her sneer told you she was completely unbothered about her current situation now. Your only plan involved letting her overconfidence be her own undoing.

“Nice try.” She mocked. “For a moment I believed your threats but now that I’m really looking at you, I know you don’t have it in you to kill me anymore. You’ve gone soft and you’re pathetic I can see it in your eyes- you’re haunted by what you’ve done, Jedi.”

Your jaw clenched and you could feel those emotions you’d worked so hard to control start to rise to the surface.

“I’m getting outta here and I fully intend to finish what the Empire started-”

Hunter’s fatal shot to her chest silenced her and she flopped to the ground.

“Looks like you have something you need to deal with first.” Echo advised Hunter as he destroyed the puck and tracking fob for good measure before he holstered his blaster. He faced you. “I still don’t know what happened whilst you were on your own, but your past is your own, I won’t hold anything against you, we’re still okay.” He reassured you.

You barely managed a nod of acknowledgement as her words were still replaying in your mind, but you wouldn’t let it show. Instead, you took out your vibroblade and cut a section of her clothing. You stayed silent as you took the piece of fabric and wrapped the lightsaber in it. You knew it was a lame gesture- especially since you immediately felt that rush of connection as you lifted it- but it provided you with a false sense of security that you would rather have because the second you made unrestrained contact with it, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist or turn your back on it again. You held the hilt tightly before you waved farewell to Echo and made for the ship.

Hunter nodded absentmindedly at Echo’s words whilst his gaze was fixed on you. He knew seeing that lightsaber might bring back some memories, but the intensity of your reaction told him there was more to it than simply remembering that period of your life. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and reached his hand out to Echo. “Be safe, Echo. We’ll be in touch once we’ve dealt with this.”

“You too.” Echo replied, meeting Hunter’s hand in a firm handshake before they parted, and he watched Hunter head back to the Marauder.

“See you later, Echo.” Wrecker said warmly as he lightly slapped his brother’s shoulder before he followed Hunter to the ship.

“What’s so special about this lightsaber?” Wrecker asked as the ship entered hyperspace.

Hunter leaned against the entrance to the cockpit, arms crossed as he studied you. Your eyes hadn’t left the weapon sitting in your lap.

“It’s mine.” You said quietly.

Hunter immediately straightened up. “It’s yours?” He repeated.

“Yup.” You cleared your throat and brought your eyes up to face the two clones. “I figured it would’ve been destroyed in Order 66. Guess not.” You said with a resigned sigh.

“Woah! Talk about lucky!” Wrecker said excitedly but you didn’t seem to match his enthusiasm. “This is good news, isn’t it?” He asked, tilting his head at you.

“I don’t know what kind of news it is, Wrecker.” You said honestly.

“What’s your hold up?” Hunter asked curiously.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty handy weapon to have and if it belongs to you, isn’t it better that it’s back with you?” Wrecker followed up.

“It’s difficult to explain.” You deflected.

“Try us.” Hunter encouraged gently.

You shot him a look, hoping he would drop it but the look in his eyes told you that he was not for dissuading. You released a short breath. “It would be like taking back a section of my life I was ready to leave behind. That I had left behind… for years.”

“And you don’t know if you’re ready to reconnect with that part of you yet?” Hunter guessed.

You shrugged in complacent agreement. “Making the choice to leave the Jedi Order was already difficult and leaving my lightsaber…. well, that was hard enough the first time and now that I have it back… I don’t know.” You ran a hand over your face. “It’s just complicated.” You got to your feet and carefully put the lightsaber on a shelf in the cockpit.

Wrecker slapped his hands against his thighs. “Well, I always think things look less complicated after a good sleep, what do ya say? We all could use some rest before we sort out this Kedrin guy.”

Sleep didn’t provide you with much respite these days, but you hummed out a quiet laugh and shared a brief smile with Hunter. “Sounds like a good idea, Wrecker.”

Hunter jolted awake, panic setting in as he reached for you only to find that you weren’t there, and he had a horrible feeling that he hadn’t woken up yet. But no, he could hear Wrecker’s faint snores, so he had to be awake, and he knew he was back with you, it wasn’t a trick. There would be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t lying next to him right now.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. You were here, you’d been here for a while now. He’d found you; you were okay. It wasn’t like before. You were probably just in the cockpit. Yes, that’s where you had to be.

When he felt himself calm down, he got to his feet and noiselessly made his way there but paused in the entryway as he saw you reading one of Tech’s old datapads, top layer still on, feet tucked up beneath you as you sat in the pilot’s seat. He thought he’d gathered them all. “Where’d you find that?” He rasped; his voice still thick with sleep.

You jumped in your chair as you heard him. You had been utterly absorbed in what you were reading, you hadn’t sensed him approach. You looked up to see Hunter standing in the doorway to the cockpit. “Tucked behind the medkit. I forgot how much Tech truly recorded.” You said in fond remembrance although there was an overall sense of sorrow in your voice. You flashed him the title of the current report you were reading. “Remember that mission on Ryloth?”

“You and Wrecker got separated from the rest of us and decided to blow up the target from the inside and escape through the garbage chute if I remember correctly?”

“Right.” You said with a soft chuckle.

“Pretty sure that was the mission that made you a fully-fledged member of our squad, Wrecker couldn’t stop raving about you after that. I was almost jealous.” Hunter managed to joke.

You gave him a small grin at that before you turned off the datapad and properly took him in. “Guess you couldn’t sleep either?” You asked in a hushed voice as Hunter stepped further into the cockpit.

Hunter merely shook his head and sat across from you.

“Nightmares?” You figured as you delicately put the datapad back and sat in your seat once more.

“I prefer calling them recaps.” Hunter muttered dully as he sat across from you.

You reached for his knee and squeezed it comfortingly. “Do you want to talk more about them?”

Hunter shook his head. “You know and lived it all too and being here with you helps anyway. What about you?”

“Just a lot weighing on my mind.” You said airily as you brought your hand back to your lap.

Hunter made a small noise of quiet understanding. He hadn’t been expecting much more by way of a response from you.

“I don’t know how he does it.” You whispered in sad envy as you jutted your chin over to where Wrecker was sleeping soundly.

Hunter followed your gaze and sighed. “It’s the only way he can switch off. Especially in the early months, he struggled with remembering everything.”

“Yeah, any form of healing from all this won’t be easy.” You said with a heavy breath.

“Wrecker might be able to sleep better than we can, but he keeps a blaster by him and has his hand on it at all times. I don’t think he ever wants to be caught off guard again.” Hunter replied solemnly. “Moving on won’t ever be simple.”

You dipped your head in agreement and leaned back in your chair.

The minutes ticked by and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Hunter cleared his throat. “I’m going to be selfish for a moment, okay?”

You tilted your head at him and adjusted your posture to give him your full attention. “Okay…”

Hunter took another breath, his throat bobbing before he spoke, “You can’t leave me to wake up alone like that.”

It hit you immediately. Fuck, you’d been an idiot, of course you couldn’t do that. If he’d done that to you, you would lose your shit. How could you have been so stupid? “Hunter-”

“I had one night too many of waking up to a cold and empty space and worrying about where you were and what was happening to you. I can’t go through it again, I won’t. Not anymore.”

You’d been so wrapped up in your own head, you hadn’t even considered what that would do to him, but you should’ve known better, especially because your reaction would be exactly like his. You quietly stood up and closed the short gap between you to straddle his lap.

He accommodated you in an instant and his eyes fluttered shut as you gently stroked your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” You soothed as you placed delicate kisses to his face whilst you moved your hands to rub up and down his chest, his sleep clothes warm and soft beneath your palms.

Hunter caught your wrists and tenderly caressed the scars left there as a result of what you’d endured in Cid’s parlour. “I barely lived through it once and I won’t do it ever again. I don’t care what time it is, if you’re up and struggling with something you wake me up with you. I’d rather that than wake up without you and have that pain and panic set it again. Promise me… please.” He begged, brushing some strands of hair back behind your ear as his eyes looked deep into yours.

You nuzzled into his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his pulse point. “I promise.” Your lips traced his jaw. “And you promise too.”

“I promise.” Hunter agreed and he tucked his fingers under your chin and brought your lips to his.

You had wanted to keep it short and sweet, but you soon found yourself physically incapable. One gentle nip from him on your bottom lip and you were done for. The kiss soon turned hungry and desperate. The two of you were consumed by a passion you’d had no outlet for yet, and you were getting completely lost in the moment. Your hands threaded themselves in his hair and you pressed yourself against him as he deepened the kiss and squeezed your hips to get you to subtly grind against him which were instructions you were only too happy to follow.

It was all over though when you felt his hands start to reach the bottom of your shirt and brush against your bare skin. Instinctively, you flinched away, and you crashed back to reality. You knew what marks you were concealing, and what he would feel if he lifted your shirt, and it wasn’t something he should have to see. “I- I can’t.” You panted against his lips. Your body yearned for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go any further, not yet. Everything was still too fresh, and you couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to.

Even though his body burned for you, he’d never push you into this, but he wanted to share the burden of whatever it was that was tormenting you. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?” Hunter murmured breathlessly as he glanced up at you.

You swallowed thickly. “I want to but-” You released a low, shaky breath. “It’s- it’s hard to talk about.”

Hunter stroked your cheek. “Well, when you’re ready, I’ll be right there.”

You pressed your lips into his palm.

“Come on, let’s try to get some rest. We’ll arrive at Nelvaan in a few hours.” He kissed your forehead before you got to your feet and the two of you made your way back to your bunk.

“Y- you’re supposed- supposed to be dead!” Kedrin exclaimed fearfully as he cowered behind the main counter upon seeing you standing in the doorway of his shop, the two clones on either side of your shoulders.

“You should’ve sprung for a better bounty hunter then.” You countered as you walked towards the store owner. “I have some questions for you.”

“No, I’m not dealing with any of you ever again!” Kedrin reached underneath the counter and pulled out a blaster and pointed it at you.

You stopped your advance and raised your hands in surrender. “Kedrin, I just need to talk to you.”

“Fuck you! You don’t get to use my name and talk to me like what you did to me was nothing!”

You internally cringed at the memory of what you’d put him through.

“Did you even know he was my brother?!” He shouted in anger. “Did you even care, you heartless bitch?!”

Hunter tensed beside you.

You lightly grazed his hand with your own to tell him it was fine but at the same time shame coiled in your gut. You lowered your mask and kept your voice low and composed. “Kedrin-”

“Stop using my fucking name, you never bothered with it before!” He then turned his rage to the clone that stood closest to you. “And you! I still have the scar from you!” He yelled at the clone on your right, the blaster in his hand still quivering as he aimed it between the three of you.

Hunter stood unwavering beside you and said nothing.

You saw how unsteady his grip on his blaster was. “You’re not a killer, Kedrin. It’s why you sent the bounty hunter after me in the first place.” You said as an attempt to talk him down but the Force around him was in complete chaos, the only emotion that had any kind of control was his anger and that was dangerous. You knew the kind of pain and wrath the loss of a loved one could unleash, and it was why you’d never wanted to put anyone through it in the first place but now you were seeing the impact of your mistake firsthand.

“You killed my brother you fucking bitch!”

You sensed him getting ready to pull the trigger. “Kedrin-” You ducked as the blaster bolt came straight for your head. You channelled the Force and took the blaster from his hand whilst Hunter and Wrecker used that distraction to advance and subdue him. They shoved his head and torso down to press against the countertop.

“Do you want one to match?” Hunter threatened as he reached for his vibroblade and held the sharp point just above Kedrin’s unmarked hand as he and Wrecker held him down.

“Hunter, it’s okay.” You said, pulling him back from that line the two of you had agreed to keep each other from as you saw the way his grip strengthened and the wince of pain Kedrin couldn’t conceal.

Kedrin kept looking for a way out of their hold but was proving futile. “She murdered my brother.” He whimpered as he continued some half-hearted attempts to free himself.

“You’re right. I did.” You approached him and crouched to meet his eyeline. “And it was a mistake that I’m plagued by to this day. All I can do is say that I’m sorry. I know you’d love nothing more than to kill me too, it would probably feel great but please, please Kedrin, don’t do this. It won’t end well for you.” You begged. When his resistance finally ceased, you turned your attention to Hunter.

“Give us a minute.” You said to Hunter, resting a hand on the top of his shoulder.

“But-” Hunter got ready to argue.

“Hunter.” You interrupted firmly and fixed him with a stern stare.

Recognising that tone and look in your eyes, Hunter released a disgruntled but compliant sigh and nodded to Wrecker to let him go. He holstered his blaster and sheathed his vibroblade before leading the way out.

As you heard the door shut, you stepped back from the counter to give Kedrin some space. “You have no reason to trust me, but I promise that I’m not going to hurt you, that’s not why I’m here.”

“You’re- you’re not here to kill me for the bounty hunter?” Kedrin asked warily.

You shook your head. “There was a time where that’s what precisely I would do and I wouldn’t even hesitate, but you’re not the person I’m supposed to be hurting and neither was your brother. I know nothing I say will bring you comfort but I am not here to kill you. I only want to talk.” You said sincerely as you put your weapons to the ground and faced him calmly.

Kedrin massaged his right shoulder- which had been on the receiving end of a particularly harsh grip from the clone you referred to as ‘Hunter’- and narrowed his eyes at you. “What is it exactly that you want to talk about?”

“This.” You placed the lightsaber on the counter and unwrapped it. “Where’d you get it?”

Kedrin wasn’t buying that that was all you wanted to know about, you had to be here for revenge. “How do I know you won’t do some magic thing like you did last time?”

You released an irritated sigh. “Because if I was going to do that, I would’ve done it already. I won’t lie, I can’t leave here with you still intent on sending hunters after me or I will have to do some things neither of us will enjoy, particularly you. I will always regret taking yours away from you, it was never part of my plan to leave someone alone, but my family is still counting on me, and I can’t have anything messing that up. Please, leave us alone and I’ll never bother you again after this.”

Kedrin angled his head and regarded you inquisitively. His body was still filled with fear of being alone with you, but it was like there was a different person standing before him- you seemed genuinely upset and sorry; and that in of itself would be punishment enough- better you feel the guilt of what you’d done than have an easy out. “You’re the most terrifying person I’ve ever met but for some reason, I believe what you’re saying. No more bounty hunters.”

You felt into the Force around him but there was no dishonesty or deceit. “The lightsaber?” You redirected his attention to the weapon on the counter.

Kedrin shrugged. “What about it?”

“Where did you get it?” You repeated impatiently.

Kedrin flinched at your tone and- not wanting to risk upsetting you any further- started wiping down some glass cases to channel his nervous energy and spoke quickly. “I’ve had it for a while, couldn’t tell you who gave it to me. Just that they were employed to be a part of the clean-up after your lot betrayed the Chancellor and found it and wanted a souvenir of the experience.”

You coughed and bit back the flurry of insults and threats that nearly escaped your mouth.

Kedrin, now so focused on his task that he was oblivious to your discomfort, carried on in a restless ramble, “Guess they ran into tough times during the transition period and wanted rid of it for some quick cash. No one really wanted to buy it though, it just sat there which was why I gave it to that bounty hunter.”

You felt your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you realised what this could mean for you. Leaving it behind had been an active choice to cut part of yourself off from the Force and now you had a chance to feel the Force flow through you as a single entity, no more jagged or disjointed connections… but you didn’t know if you were ready for that yet, it was too much to even comprehend. If it had survived everything and found its way back to you… did that mean that you could too?

“So, um are you going to pay for it?” He dared to ask but your sharp and cold glower had him gulping nervously and wringing his hands. “Uh, never mind, you can take it.” He said hastily. “Just let us be done with each other.”

You said nothing to him, you only covered it once more, picked up your other weapons and exited the shop.

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you emerged from the store.

“We were going to go get some supplies if you want to join?” Wrecker added.

“I need a moment. You guys go.” You said, giving Wrecker your concealed lightsaber and avoiding eye contact with them both as you hurried back to the Marauder.

Having found a moment of relief under the warm water, you got out of the shower and started to towel off and redress but as you pulled your tank top over you, you realised you’d left your long sleeve out by your bunk. You swore under your breath and only hoped the other two would take a bit longer on the supply run. You dashed out the door of the refresher and started to rummage through the bunk for it.

“Who did that to you?”

You whipped around to see Hunter stood frozen in the entryway to the Marauder. “Dammit Hunter-”

“Who did that to you?” He repeated heatedly, his concern and rage rising each second. The sight of the deep and cruel scars that disappeared from your upper back beneath your shirt to the rest of your back was engrained in his mind and any plans of waiting for you to come to him evaporated as his anger and protectiveness overcame him.

Wrecker stepped up beside his brother, put the supplies down and your weapon on a shelf. He nervously glanced between the two of you and it didn’t take an enhanced skill for him to pick up on the way Hunter was trembling with fury. “Eh, what’d I miss?”

Hunter ignored him and kept his eyes on you. “Who was it?”

You turned back around to grab your shirt and it was then that you heard Wrecker’s sharp inhale as he too now saw what it was Hunter had seen. You fiddled with the fabric, twisting it tightly in your hands. “It wasn’t like it was solely one person. Just forget about it.” You muttered aloofly.

“No, I can’t just forget about it. Who. Hurt. You?”

You sighed heavily and half-turned to face the two clones. “It was a two for one special.”

“Don’t.” Hunter chided sternly. He couldn’t have you make light of this, not when he’d seen what you’d gone through now. He couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer anymore and, as awful as a part of him found it, he had to push you now.

There was no leeway in his voice, you weren’t going to be able to dodge and weave your way out of this conversation now. “Basically, it was both Imperial Stormtroopers and their higher command officers.” You swallowed harshly. “They- they worked together on this one.”

Hunter simply stormed away from you to the ship’s controls. “Wrecker, let’s get the ship in the air.”

“You’re going to go after every Imperial officer and stormtrooper in the galaxy?” You scrappily tugged your top layer over you and hustled after the two of them as they strode into the cockpit.

“If I have to!” Hunter growled.

“I’m with the Sarge on this one.” Wrecker agreed severely as he started to power up the ship.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought but that’s not logical nor practical!” You argued.

“Don’t talk to me about practicality when they did that to you!” Hunter shouted angrily.

“It was my fault, Hunter!” You yelled back.

That caused both of them to pause and Wrecker turned off the engine.

“I did it to myself.” You said, your voice scarcely above a whisper as you braced yourself for the time you were about to relive.

“What are you talking about?” Hunter asked, his voice as quiet as yours now as he studied your face carefully.

“Before I tell you, I need you both to stay calm. Especially you.” You said to Hunter. You knew he wasn’t mad at you; his reaction had been exactly as you’d expected. His fierce protectiveness was a quality you loved about him, but it could be his undoing if he wasn’t careful. “And you need to know and accept that nothing would’ve changed it, it wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I acted in poor and emotional judgement and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent it. Please, trust me on this.” You insisted with a pleading stare at him before you looked to Wrecker who- albeit hesitantly- nodded. You glanced to Hunter again who was still looking like he could take on the Empire singlehandedly. “Hunter?”

Hunter felt a keen sense of dread at your words, and it was highly likely he wouldn’t be able to view it quite as simply as that, but he allowed himself a deep and calming breath. He’d do this for you. “Tell me.”

You exhaled nervously and fidgeted with your hands. Realistically, you’d known you wouldn’t be able to go through the rest of your life without being found out or talking about it but that didn’t make doing this any easier. “I’m sure I don’t really have to go into how hard it was to find each other, right? I’m sure you guys had your fair share of failed leads and things were pretty hopeless for a while, yes?”

Hunter and Wrecker both nodded.

You took another breath. “Right, well, it was the same for me. During our time apart, nothing I did was getting me any closer to you and I could feel it draining me every day. Lyra and I arrived on Christophsis and decided to settle there but it didn’t help. No matter how hard I searched, no matter how much of myself I gave up when it came to getting what I wanted, nothing was bringing results, and I was angry. I was angry, frustrated and just miserable. And it was in that poor state of mind that I made a choice that I shouldn’t have.”

Hunter knew those emotions all too well and he’d get incredibly impatient and unfocused when they got overwhelming, but he’d been fortunate to have Wrecker around to pick up the load when it got too much. Yes, you may have had Lyra, but he knew you and how you operated, and you would’ve put it all on you, regardless of how exhausting it would’ve been and that’s what made him nervous as he awaited further explanation.

You shuffled your feet. “I was being a bit of a nuisance to the Empire wherever I went, Christophsis was no exception, but I was getting nowhere on the information front so, in my slightly unstable state, I figured the best way to find out about you or even Hemlock was to um well, find it straight from the source.”

Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. “No, no you didn’t.”

Wrecker looked between the two of you in confusion but then it clicked with him too and he stared at you, horrified. “Why would you do that?”

You swallowed thickly. “I thought that by handing myself in, I would be able to get the information I was needing. I figured they would have some form of intel on you I could use.” You huffed irritably as you remembered how foolish you’d been. “Turns out they were a lot smarter than I gave them credit for and they sussed out my plan pretty quickly.”

You winced as Hunter threw his helmet and it crashed against the wall. You expected no less but you needed to reign him back in if you had any chance of recounting the whole story. “That’s not staying calm.”

Hunter got to his feet and paced; his distress evident. “We were on your trail! If I’d been faster and picked our sources more carefully, you wouldn’t have had to-” Hunter seethed. How could he have failed you so badly? You’d put yourself through hell for their sake and if he had gotten to you sooner, you wouldn’t have had to have gone through this.

“Hunter, no.” You shook your head to stop him from putting the blame on himself. “The whole reason I did it was because the trail was running cold, and I was desperate. It was all on me. and I’m not done explaining this yet and it doesn’t get better, but you can’t do this. I understand and appreciate where it comes from, but it won’t help now, okay? Just let me finish it.”

Hunter clenched his jaw but did as you asked. He sat back down and nodded at you to continue but he was helpless to stop the anxious shaking of his leg.

You gritted your teeth as you prepared yourself for what you had to do next and any levity that you’d previously been forcing into your voice vanished. “Since they knew what I was and some of the general history between all of us, it’s like I said, they were aware of what I wanted, and they definitely weren’t up for giving it to me. They finally had me under their control, and they were very good at making sure I wasn’t getting away any time soon. Honestly, they were pretty creative with their methods and I’m sure some of them found doing what they did to me quite therapeutic.” That dismissive attitude slipped back in at the end without you meaning to. Frankly, you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for the sharp and worried looks from Wrecker and Hunter. You mentally checked yourself before you proceeded.

“Where they showed their inexperience however was when they got frustrated at how little I gave them. I don’t think they realised how hard it would be to crack someone like me. Their fists, their whips, their electrostaffs… it all hurt but it wouldn’t get me to talk. So, they went for something different, and that was what got them quite close.” You stopped again and found yourself touching the small pinprick scar as you remembered the sharp sting and then the complete haziness that would follow that would render your completely susceptible to anything they would do and say. “Whatever concoction they’d inject into my neck when they got bored or too tired from physically hurting me was nearly impossible for me to resist and that was a terrifying experience... I was having to fight my own mind while they happily watched on. That interrogator droid would enter, and- and my body would go cold with fear every time.” You paused for a chance to gather yourself and squeezed your eyes tight to rid yourself of the memories of that dark, cramped room they would take you where you were helpless to their cruelty and the last thing you would clearly recall would be the whirring of that droid approaching you.

You took another breath before you continued to speak. “That was what came close to breaking me and they worked that out. Every day they would inject me with that serum to make me submit to their words and they would tell me you were right outside. They- they would tell me that I would see- see you all again if I only told them how much I knew about Omega and where I was hiding…. And every day I would have to remind myself that it was all a lie… that you weren’t there, and I couldn’t reveal anything since that would put Lyra in danger too.” You released a shaky breath. “Or they’d try to convince me that you were going through the same thing I was and- and it was my fault and to get- to get it to stop I would have to tell them everything.” You felt a lump form in the back of your throat, but you forced yourself to talk through it. “They could beat me all they wanted but that was the thing that actually left a mark… these scars merely came with the territory.”

A troubled silence fell upon the walls of the Marauder as you finished. You picked at some imaginary lint on your leggings as a way to bring your emotions under control.

Hunter felt sick to his stomach. He could’ve saved you or made it so putting yourself in that position would never have needed to seem like a viable option. You’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. He’d let you down.

You caught a glimpse of his expression changing from anger to defeated sadness and he didn’t need to vocalise those thoughts; you were perfectly aware of what would be going through his head. “It’s okay.” You mouthed silently to him.

You shouldn’t be the one comforting him. A broken and anguished sigh left his throat. Okay? How was any of this okay? You’d subjected yourself to torture for them and had carried the burden of it by yourself for so long.

“How’d you get away?” Wrecker asked in quiet upset as he imagined you experiencing that.

You coughed and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Truth be told, it gets a bit blurry near the end. I…” You trailed off and frowned as you worked on accurately recalling what had gone down the day you got out. You hesitantly started your explanation again. “I remember overhearing that they were going to send me off world to a high security prison and I couldn’t have that. The trooper who put the cuffs on me to take me back to my cell was a rookie, I think he figured I was unconscious, so he used the regular ones that didn’t restrict my Force-wielding abilities. Then the dizziness and blackouts set in, I remember finding the strength to take him out, but I don’t exactly know how I proceeded from there. The next thing I do remember was collapsing outside the door to where we were living and Lyra dragging me inside.”

“Hunter?” You looked to him since he hadn’t said anything yet.

Hunter’s throat had gone so dry, he couldn’t summon words immediately. All that was racking through his head was how he could’ve prevented this and how he should’ve been there to save you. You never should’ve been the one to drag yourself out of that hellhole. The protective part of him wanted to find a way for you to come up with any identifying features that could assist in hunting down those who’d inflicted that pain on you but despite all you’d relayed to them, he was calmer now and he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. He may have failed you then, but he wouldn’t now. His focus now lay in what he could do for you now but there was an element to the explanation he was missing and once he had that, everything else could fall into place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He murmured instead.

There was no accusation in his eyes, no pointedness or blame in his tone. You knew he just wanted to understand, and it was a fair question. “I was working on compartmentalising it; it was just going badly. And-” You stopped yourself from continuing and instead just started to back away. “Nothing.”

“And what?” Hunter pressed as he got to his feet and caught your hand before you could step away any further.

You shook your head. “It’s a stupid reason, I shouldn’t care about it.”

“Nothing you’re feeling about this is stupid. I might be able to help, you only need to tell me.” Hunter prompted tenderly as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

You regarded him carefully, attempting to find some deception or falseness in his tone so you didn’t have to say it but, unsurprisingly, you didn’t find any. You bit your lip before speaking, “I didn’t want you to have to see them. They’re- they’re not exactly nice to look at.” You muttered as you dipped your head to stare at the floor.

The fact that that was even cause for concern felt like a punch to the gut but at least there was something he could do about it. He may not be able to go after the Imperials like he wanted but he could help you realise that was a non-issue for him and one that hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Wrecker, take a walk. I’ll be in touch when you can come back.” Hunter ordered his brother.

Wrecker wasn’t about to question him, so he did as he said. He rested a gentle hand on your shoulder in comfort. “Thank you for telling us.” He said before he left the ship.

You went to address Hunter, but he spoke first.

“Turn around.”

Your brow furrowed but you couldn’t deny the warmth that bloomed in your stomach at his words. “What?”

“Turn around.” Hunter repeated, his tone quiet but filled with dominance.

Despite your lingering questions as to what exactly it was that he wanted, you found yourself doing as he instructed. You could feel the heat in your stomach start to radiate throughout the rest of his body. Each steady thump of armour hitting the ground had goosebumps rising on your skin in anticipation and you felt him crowd your back and rest his chin in the space between your neck and shoulder.

Hunter kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear and as he felt you relax into him; he slowly grabbed the hem of your long-sleeved layer and lifted it over your head and dropped it to the floor of the ship. He didn’t let his eyes fall to the scars yet. Instead, he caressed the trail of goosebumps on your arms and continued to pay close attention to your neck, softy nibbling the areas that he knew would make you weak at the knees.

He could play your body so well; it was like the two of you hadn’t been parted for as long as you had been. You could feel yourself growing more and more compliant to his touch and desire coursed through your body. You only snapped out of it when you felt his touch go lower and he tugged the bottom of your vest top. You went stiff and immediately grabbed his hands in a panic. “Hunter, no. You-”

“Easy.” He soothed as he pressed delicate, featherlight kisses to the back and each side of your neck. “Trust me.” He rasped against your skin, but he waited for your signal.

You released a low, unsteady breath. You couldn’t live in this state of fear and shame forever. You trusted him with everything you had and that was why you felt yourself letting go of his wrists. Your breathing grew uneven, and your body trembled as you felt his bare hands graze underneath your vest top before, they held onto the hem of it.

“Relax… it’s okay. You’re okay now. Let me see.” He encouraged gently, only lifting when he saw you nod your permission.

His gaze finally dipped to your bare back, and he had to fight to keep his breathing calm as he felt his heart shatter once he saw the full extent of what had been done to you. Your back was a map of merciless and vicious scars, and he wanted nothing more to take away the pain they’d caused you and inflict it on his own body. But that was the only effect they had. He was not repulsed, not repelled by the sight of them. They did nothing to ruin his physical perception of you. You were every bit as beautiful to him now as you had been when he first met you on Devaron all that time ago. “You’re exquisite.”

You refused to believe that. These were different to the scars you were both used to that came with the impact of battle and you were under no illusions as to how unsightly they were. You went to turn to face him so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at them and to protest his words, but he sensed that and beat you to it.

“These do not define you. They do not define my view of you. You are strong, you are capable, and you are a force to be reckoned with and that is why I love you.” He started to lightly touch each one. “No amount of scarring is going to change that. You. Are. Beautiful. I will be there to remind you of that whenever you need it.” He pressed his mouth to the space between your shoulder blades.

Your body trembled under his touch and his sincerity threatened to overwhelm you. “Hunter-” You managed to choke out.

“I would tear the galaxy apart for you, if you wanted me to.” He hummed against your skin as he continued to trail his lips down your back, worshipping every mark that had been left on you so as to leave a new association with them now. “But I know that’s not what you need.”

A quivering breath left your lungs at his words and ministrations, and you knew you felt the same way. But it was because the two of you were aware of that line that your relationship worked so well- you could balance the sentiment with intent. You could feel him starting to make his way back up your back.

“So, what is it that you need?” He hummed into your ear before he placed his hands on your waist and sucked a mark over the tiny scar that rested on your pulse point.

You groaned and braced your hands on the wall that formed the entryway to the cockpit as you felt your knees buckle.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me and it’s yours.” He asked again as his fingers started to dip beneath the waistband of your leggings whilst he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

You knew exactly what it was, it was all you ever really needed. “You.” You gasped and you swore you felt him smile against your skin.

“You have me… always.”

You couldn’t hold out any longer, you turned around and crushed your lips against his with a groan and pushed him to the wall of the entrance to the cockpit. If he was taken aback by your abruptness, he didn’t show it as he matched your enthusiasm immediately, one hand coming to firmly grip your exposed waist whilst the other tangled itself in your damp hair, a desperate and eager noise leaving him as he got to feel your body press against his.

As you kissed him, your hands fisted his shirt and you pulled insistently but made no moves to actually step away to remove it, you were too addicted to the feeling of having him this way again… yet you needed to feel his skin against yours which is why you were thankful that he had enough willpower to separate himself from you and take it off himself.

The two of you breathed heavily and the air was thick with tension, but you were too focused on looking at what rested just past his collarbone. You hadn’t allowed yourself to check if he had held onto it for fear of what it could mean if it was gone, and your breath hitched. You touched the black leather cord and traced the small Jedi Order symbol on the end. “You- you kept it?”

“Of course, I did.” He softly uttered, if a little out of breath. He cradled your face in his palms. “What do I have to do to make you see what I see in you?”

Any answer died on your lips, and he passionately reconnected his mouth to yours, using your surprised gasp to deepen the kiss before he stepped away from the wall and started to direct you both down the narrow hallway to your bunk, muscle memory mapping the way as neither of you were content to separate to make the walk any easier.

A trail of clothes was left in your wake as you made your way to your bunk.

Hunter gently laid you down, his lips never parting yours before he patted your hip to get you to be on your front.

You still found yourself feeling reluctant. His beautiful brown eyes were laden with lust but there was also a deep and devoted sense of care behind them which was why you complied with his request. You trusted him.

Hunter went back to what he’d done earlier as he left delicate kisses to every scar that donned your back. What you endured was something no one should ever have to but what he could do now was make sure you knew that you didn’t need to hide them for the sake of other people- especially him- any longer. “You never have to worry about these. All that matters to me is that you’re here now, you got away, and you will never end up back there. More scars don’t have the power to change how I feel about you, nothing does. I love you for all that you are.” He planted a kiss to the base of your spine before he got you on your back to face him.

Hunter wiped away the salty tears that had escaped your eyes and nudged the side of your nose with his. “I love you. Always.”

“Always.” You repeated hoarsely as you were overwhelmed by the emotions that came crashing to the surface. You stroked back the smaller bits of hair that frequently slipped past his bandanna.

Hunter kissed your cheek before leaving a trial of kisses along your jawline whilst his hand slowly made its way down your body to rest between your thighs.

Your legs parted for him on instinct and your hips bucked into his touch and a soft moan left your throat.

His voice took on a low purr as he moved his fingers. “Here’s how this is going to work: I am going to tell you everything that I love about you which you are then going to repeat and… if you don’t…” He stopped and took his hand away as he saw that familiar expression on your face, and he couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged the edges of his mouth as that expression turned into an affronted pout. “I stop.”

Your eyes widened at the very clear implications of what he had in store for you.

“Or this doesn’t have to go any further and we stop now.” He offered sincerely.

No, you didn’t want that. It had been too long, and you needed him like your lungs needed oxygen. You could do this. You nodded your consent.

Hunter angled his head to press his lips against yours before he started to move his fingers again, hungrily swallowing your appreciative gasp. He kissed you passionately, not in any rush to stop right now. He parted from you and took a second to appreciate the throaty sighs that left your mouth at his actions, the way you bit your lip and the slight wrinkle on your brow as you grew closer to your release. He’d missed being able to see you like this, but he was relishing the opportunity to relearn and do all the things that made your body contort in pleasure. “You’re beautiful.” He exhaled in complete awe.

You were so caught up in the pleasure radiating throughout your body that you had already forgotten his plan and you were too put out by the feeling of your climax fading away to recall where your side of the bargain came into it. “Hey-” You cut yourself off as you saw the expectant expression on his face and then you remembered what you had to do to get what you craved but that doubt was still there, and you felt awkward doing it. However, the reassurance and trust that also rested on his face saw to it that you did as he said. “I- I’m beautiful.”

Hunter bowed his head with a supportive smile before he carried on, the sound of your groan was like music to his ears. “Despite all that’s happened… all that we still have to do… you always find a way to make me smile.”

You were in a state of total euphoria and therefore failed to fully comprehend that he’d said something else. It was only when you felt him pull his hand away and the emptiness that followed that brought you back to the current situation. With a whine, you spoke again, “I- make- make you s- smile.” You ground out as you moved your hips in tandem with his touch as you chased your high.

He let you have your first climax, pausing to let you come down from it. Once your breathing evened out, he went again and kissed you before muttering against your lips, “You’re smart.”

“I’m- fuck.” You were too distracted by seeking the next release you were longing for to remember to respond, and you cried out in irritation as he stopped just before you reached it.

“Almost.” He crooned into your ear.

As frustrated as you were, you got your bearings and whispered, “I’m smart.”

“Good girl.” He praised, a grin on his face as your breath stuttered at his words, before he continued, curling his fingers in the way he knew would send you over the edge and sure enough, your hips lifted as your release crashed over you and a gratified moan sounded from you. However, he didn’t stop, he worked you through it and said, “You’re caring.”

The process got easier and began to feel more natural. You slowly started to understand that clinging on to that part of your past had made it impossible to fully come back. Keeping yourself hidden and refusing to acknowledge what you’d experienced had made it difficult to fathom that he could still want you this way but each affirmation from his, as silly as you’d initially felt at doing what he said, was helping cement the idea that you may not be able to change or fix what you’d gone through, but it didn’t have to control you anymore. You had a partner and family that loved you and who you adored and would do anything for. You would get through this and now you were beginning to feel like you could do it. You felt yourself believing what he was telling you. A whimper left your throat, and you could already sense that you were hurtling towards the edge again, but you repeated it. “I’m c- caring.” You said through panted breaths as you coped with the overstimulation.

“You’re doing so well.” He encouraged as he kept to his word and continued to touch you. “You’re strong.” He knew he was repeating himself, but they weren’t words he minded reiterating, and he needed you to know and believe it too.

“I’m strong.” You said breathlessly as your hands curled into the blanket beneath you as that feeling overcame you again.

He saw you through your next peak and took his hand away to give you a rest from the stimulation and simply stared at you and the blissed out look on your face. He had it committed to memory, but it never ceased to take his breath away every time.

You gathered yourself enough to smile at him. “Thank you.” You whispered as you lightly followed the shape of his tattoo. You clasped the back of his neck and attempted to pull him towards you, but he worked his way out of your grip and instead kissed the hollow of your throat before kissing his way down the rest of your body. Your head fell back as you realised his intent, but you had thought it would be time for him to take what it was he needed.

He could help the groan that left him as he finally put his mouth on you. He could get drunk off the taste of you, and it had been too fucking long since he’d had the chance to do so, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

You couldn’t help the way your hands tangled in his hair and tugged him closer to you, his appreciative growl sent shivers down your spine, but you were so sensitive, and you didn’t think you could manage another one. “Hunter, I can’t. Just-”

“One more. I know you can.” He encouraged desperately as he planted a kiss to your inner thigh, sucking a bruise into the skin, before he went back to where his attention was demanded. He needed you to fall apart on his tongue, he was addicted to it, every drop of you, every whimper that sounded from you was like his own personal drug and he would never tire of it. “You’ve been such a good girl… done everything I’ve asked for… just give me one more, sweetheart.”

That did it. Your back arched and you finished with a ruined and exhausted moan. You were completely spent but it felt so good. You barely registered him to come rest beside you, his lips pressed against your temple.

“I know that wasn’t easy, but I’m so proud of you.” Hunter murmured into your hairline as he stroked up and down your side.

You regained enough feeling in your limbs to turn on your side “What about you?” You queried, still struggling to catch your breath. You knew you would be sensitive but your overwhelming longing for him swiftly outweighed any concerns.

Hunter slowly shook his head as he brushed his lips against yours, taking them away when you went to deepen the kiss. “This was always about you.”

With each passing moment, you were gaining more clarity over your faculties, and you knew what you had to do. A seductive smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and your hand snaked down between you both.

“What-” Hunter inhaled sharply as he felt your hand wrap around him, and his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to thrust his hips into your touch. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to-”

“You said this was about me and what I need, right?” You hummed as you rested your forehead against his whilst your hand kept moving. You kept your touch teasing but just enough to drive him crazy.

“R-right.” Hunter said through a strained breath as he felt his restraint leaving him with every second you continued to touch him.

“And what I need is to feel you…” You brought your lips close to his, barely any space between you now. “Inside me.” You kissed him, tugging his lip between your teeth whilst your free hand entangled itself in his hair, the actions eliciting the depraved groan you had been looking for, and before you knew it, you were back on your back again with Hunter kissing you with a newfound fervour which you matched in kind. You wrapped your legs around him and drew him closer to you, smiling against his lips at the surprised huff that escaped him.

Hunter kept kissing you as he started to guide himself into you. He knew you would still feel tender and was careful as he slowly moved into you, both of your breaths catching at the feeling. His head fell to rest in the crook of your neck, biting down on the skin there before he soothed the sting of it with his tongue as he started to move, heavy grunts and pants leaving his lips as he got absorbed in feeling you this way after all this time.

Your nails dug into his back, and you could feel the muscles flex beneath your fingers and a sensual sigh left your lungs as you finally felt all of him.

One thought crossed your mind amidst the fog of pleasure that was spreading over your body. You’d let go of your fear now and you wanted to look for that connection again. Before, it had marked a level of certainty of your place here and overall mindset and if you couldn’t find it after all that had happened, there was a time where you would’ve been sure that it would mean there was no true way back for you. But now you understood that wasn’t and didn’t have to be the case. If it wasn’t there, you could work to get it back.

You used the Force around you to find his unique signature again and you could’ve wept with joy as you sensed it once more and it welcomed you with open arms. It had been waiting for you. You bridged the gap between you and allowed that feeling to flow through you. I love you.

Hunter paused his movements, and he stared down at you, a shocked but delighted cry left his mouth as he saw the broad and affirming smile on your face that told him he hadn’t imagined it. He’d wanted to have that back for so long and his heart soared as he realised what this meant for you. You weren’t holding back anymore; you were officially home.

You stroked a thumb along his cheekbone before clenched around him in an attempt to get him to keep going, a smug hum of laughter leaving you at the almost pained expression on his face as he got himself back under control before he started again.

“Do it again. Please.” Hunter requested frantically as he felt himself approaching his own release.

You smiled affectionately at him and continued to kiss him as you saw him through to his climax. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He finished with a strangled groan, and he collapsed on top of you. He stayed there for a few moments before he gently pulled out of you, stroking your hair as he saw you slightly wince at the action. “I’m sorry if it was too much.”

You shook your head. “It was perfect. You were perfect.” You reassured him as he laid down beside you and held you close to him. We should clean up.

Hunter made a sound of acknowledgement as he pressed his mouth to the crown of your head. “What made you do that again?”

“I let go.” You said simply before planting a chaste kiss to his lips before taking his hands in yours and guiding him to the refresher. “Come on.”

“What are you thinking?” Hunter asked as he watched you pick up the wrapped lightsaber from the shelf Wrecker had put it on. You hadn’t touched it since taking it from the bounty hunter.

“I can’t hold on to or fear the past anymore. We can only look to the future now and that future has us getting Omega back. And…” You uncovered the seemingly harmless looking weapon. “I think this will make achieving that easier.” You reached for it, hesitating for just a moment before you picked it up and it was an instant reaction. You took half a step back as the sensation of feeling that connection you hadn’t encountered for years threatened to overwhelm you. Flashes of your past as a youngling and echoes of previous battles and instructions from your master sounded in your head but it wasn’t scary this time, you were merely remembering the periods where this weapon had been your life.

Hunter placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “You alright?”

You took one long breath. “Yeah. It’ll just take come getting used to, but it’s going to be worth it. I’m not hiding what I am these days, may as well have the whole image.” You said light-heartedly.

Hunter cupped your jaw and kissed you gently, both of you sighing contentedly into the sensation before Wrecker’s hesitant voice echoed through the comms.

“Um, Hunter… I hope I’m not interrupting eh anything now but um I was wondering if I could come back? I’ve started to wander in circles and I’m getting some suspicious looks.”

The two of you chuckled.

“Poor guy.” You said with a humorous shake of your head.

“Yeah, Wrecker, head on back and we can get outta here.” Hunter replied through his comm.

“Wrecker, how’d you fancy having an excuse to shoot at me?” You said into your comm, and the intrigued but excited cheer told you your answer.

“Shoot you?” Hunter repeated, titling his head at you inquisitively.

You grinned as you clipped your lightsaber to your waist. “Yeah, how else did you think I was going to train?”

“That’s 15 to 11!” Wrecker whooped as you came to after his stun blast hit your back.

Fuck you. You jabbed playfully as you accepted Hunter’s outstretched hand. He tugged you to your feet.

“You’re lasting longer.” Hunter commented supportively and- knowing you would want to go immediately again- walked away to take up his position.

You wiped the dirt from your clothing and removed your mask to take some deep breaths and find your centre again. Taking on jobs, following leads, mediating and lightsaber training… that was how you balanced your time; you were feeling more like the person you had been before your world had been torn apart. You’d never be able to be her again, but you could own who you are now and allow yourself to feel the emotions you’d been struggling against without suffocating in them anymore.

“But still not long enough!” Wrecker goaded. “I’ll always be in the lead!”

You didn’t take the bait. Instead, you took off your armour, gloves, and long-sleeved top.

“Hey, wait a minute, that’s not fair.” Wrecker protested.

Hunter turned inquisitively and his breath hitched. A soft sheen of sweat graced your skin and your body rippled with strength and untapped potential… and fuck did it make his heart skip a beat and his blood run hot. He was grateful his helmet was still on because the way his eyes widened would’ve given you too much material to work with right now, but he wasn’t able to hide the way his hand slightly fumbled as he unholstered his blaster. He wasn’t embarrassed by finding you attractive in this way, the frequent teasing he’d often received for it just made it harder to focus on the task at hand.

“The training stays the same and my strategy is my own. It’s not supposed to have an effect on you anyway.” You retorted with a smug grin as Hunter’s reaction went exactly as you’d anticipated.

“You better not mess this up for us, Hunter.” Wrecker warned as he shoved his brother’s shoulder to snap him out his reverie.

You laughed to yourself as you watched them. You picked up your lightsaber and ignited it, the blue blade thrumming at your side, and you felt that rush of connection and security. Having a blaster by your side was nothing compared to this.

It was a powerful sight that Hunter never got used to and quite frankly, part of him was relieved he’d never come across you as an official Jedi General during the war because if his reaction to seeing you train and work towards unlocking whatever you had been tampering down for so many years was anything to by, he would’ve gotten himself shot a long time ago- half your earlier victories came from redirecting his own stun blasts to him.

You got into your stance and faced the two clones as they readied their blasters. “Alright, let’s go again.”

<Previous Oneshot

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @starwarsnerd111, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

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whois-jess · 10 months

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can i request rhea ripley x reader

rhea and y/n are former best friends that have feelings for each other, but have grown distant due to rhea joining the judgment day, and y/n dominating the singles division, but y/n is attacked by Damage CTRL(or someone else, they’re the only ppl i could think of) rhea is the one to save her, and they make up with hesitation and distrust on y/n’s end of it, because rhea injured y/n’s good friend liv morgan. rhea shows reader how much she truly missed her.

Trust me

Rhea Ripley x Fem!reader

Rhea and me were best friends since NXT we went everywhere together and when we could traveled together, we were even a tag team everyone loved us and our chemistry i was Rheas 'girl' but when she joined the judgment day we became more distant she was always with Dom or the rest of them.

I am working in the singles devision and i what many say dominating the singles devision, i was also friends with Liv Morgan and people said we had good chemistry now.

I was walking out to the ring when i felt a kick to my back "shit!" I said falling down i turned to see Bayley "oh my god! Its Damage CTRL!" Michael yelled "poor y/r/n didn't see that!" He added "maybe because they came from behind!" Wayne said back as Bayley stomped on my arm making me scream Iyo Sky and Dakota Holding my arms as Bayley repeatedly kicked me "y/r/n all on her own" i tried to fight back trying to wriggling out their grip but failing when i hear a theme.

"Oh my ITS RHEA RIPLEY!" I lifted my head to see bayley, Dakota and Iyo drop me walking backward to the ring "Mami is not happy she is back for her girl!" Rhea runs straight by me to Bayley kicking her "touch her again! Go on!" then when Dakota tried to help Rhea ran her into the steel steps Iyo too busy looking after her friends as Rhea walks back to me "you okay y/n" she asked kneeling down by me fans screaming 'MAMIS GIRL' "Yeah yeah" i held my stomach and Rhea picked me up bridal style "lets get you backstage".

We got backstage to my dressing room both not saying a word as hurt still lingered when i saw her "so you Okay?" She asked sitting by me "yeah just sore" i nodded and she looked at me "look y/n i am sorry" i looked at her funny "why?" I asked as she did nothing but maybe that my problem "well i guess i been ignoring you and other stuff we were so close then i just leave you" she looks down at her hands as she speaks, i dont know what to say not really trusting her "i abandoned you in a way and i am sorry y/n" i sighed looking at her "i mean Rhea you injured liv one of my best friends" Rhea looked a little guilty "that wasnt my intention you know me i am a massive softy y/n" she said and i sat there thinking and moments when we would bake together or have sleepovers because we had the same hotel room "i do Rhea and it hurts that you left me" i looked down this time but her soft hand lifted my chin up "y/n i want to go back to how it was us two my girl..." I looked into her blue eyes and even though i felt the hesitation her eyes told truth and emotion "yes Rhea of course i will be your girl again" i smiled and her face lit up "really you mean it!" I nodded and she ran over lifting up "you got to met the judgment day you'll get on with them! We can all go on trips we can have girls day and everything!" She smiled like a kid on Christmas making me chuckle "calm mami lets just enjoy this" i smile at her still in her arms as we hug again for the first time in what feels like years "we're back!~" Rhea smiled as i we both laughed.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wwe judgement day #wwe x reader

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behindthesoul · 9 months

Text

Mistletoe - Johnny Cage x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary - Johnny gives you a Christmas gift.

Word Count - 842

Warnings - not proofread, not my highest quality work

A/N - I wanted to post more this month but life got in the way. ‘Tis the life of little ol’ me. Hurried to get this one out. It’s 11:32 so Christmas isn’t over yet!

The fireplace provided comfort to all that passed by, almost as if it were a blanket. It stands tall, its dancing flames within cast a warm, flickering glow that paints your face in hues of amber and gold. The crackling of burning logs adds a beautiful soundtrack that accompanies the sound of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You blasting from speakers across the room. Loud chattering mixes into the already existing sounds. You listen, the flames in front of you commanding your full attention.

Shoes clacking against the hardwood floor break the trance the fireplace had you in. There’s no need to turn your head to the person who approached you; you already know who it is.

“You outdid yourself with the Christmas decorations this year, Cage,” you say, voice in awe.

“Surprised you even noticed them,” Johnny replies. He takes a spot on the floor next to you before continuing, doing his best to make sure you see how hard he’s rolling his eyes. “You’ve been drawn to this stupid thing since you walked in.”

You finally look at him, confused. “I’ve been paying attention to them!”

“Really? Then you would’ve noticed the stocking I got for you,” he points to a large stocking hanging on the fireplace. It’s a classic red and white stocking, but you notice your first initial stitched into the fabric. How did you not notice that?

“Oh…I somehow didn’t see that. Thank you, Johnny.”

He laughs before taking the stocking off the mantle and throwing it into the fire. Your eyes widen in bewilderment as the fabric melts on top of the logs. “Actually, it belonged to my ex-agent. Hated that guy.”

You let out a small huff of amusement before standing up. “I guess that’s my cue to go walk around.”

“Shit - wait, wait, wait,” he quickly scrambles up to his feet, placing his hands on your shoulders to make sure you don’t move away. You shoot a quick look of curiosity as Johnny grins.

“You’d really think I’d let you walk away without giving you a gift?” his grin shifts into a small smirk.

“Oh! I didn’t expect a gift from you. Where is it?” you look around, as if you’d spot where he presumably hid it.

“Easy there,” he drags out, chuckling, “it’s nothing major, but hopefully you’ll like it…hopefully.”

“You notice how Johnny’s voice got quieter at the end of his sentence, avoiding your gaze for a swift moment. His eyes hold a glint of something negative. Uncertainty? Insecurity? He returns to his normal and lighthearted self before you could fully decipher his emotions. Johnny just pats your shoulder before grabbing your wrist. He leads you outside to his patio, quiet and away from the peering eyes that were likely to ruin this moment for him. Breathing in the fresh air, you feel a slight chill run down your body.

Johnny lets go of your wrist and gains your attention. He takes a deep breath, “close your eyes.”

“Hm? Why?” you hold back a laugh which would let Johnny know that you’re teasing him.

“So I can give you your gift, stupid,” Johnny gives you a massive eye roll, and you laugh as you close your eyes. You hear him shuffling around in his pockets for a quick moment and you wonder just how long you’ll have to keep your eyes closed.

“Alright,” you could almost hear him grin, “open.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Johnny holding a mistletoe in the air. It’s cheap and made of plastic; it would most likely break if he dropped it on the ground. You stare at it, unimpressed, and your expression made him deflate a bit.

He sighs, “look your actual gift won’t be here until next Saturday. I panicked trying to find something nice.”

“And cheap mistletoe was your definition of ‘nice’?” you tease, but you change your tone when you see him cringe at himself. “I - I was just joking.”

Johnny shakes his head, letting you know there was no need to apologize. “Nah, you got me. I just found this in a random box of decorations.”

Silence consumes the two of you - but only for a minute. Johnny’s always been allergic to it.

“My arm’s getting tired here…”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You lean over and kiss Johnny on the cheek. A faint, pink tint decorates his face. One that wouldn’t have been noticeable if the dark night wasn’t there to contrast it. He tosses the mistletoe to the ground and cups your face in both his hands. He then leans over to kiss you on the lips. His lips burn more than the fireplace. It could keep you warm for days.

He pulls back just enough for him to breathe and studies each detail of your face. The tender moment is dead when you notice the mistletoe on the ground, missing a leaf. It’s hard to hold back a smile.

“I knew it would break,” you mumble. Johnny shuts you up by kissing you again.

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat fanfic #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage fluff

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monosanimegenericzone · 11 days

Text

Hunter x Hunter: Specialist Scarlet Eyes idea 1.

@masakuterarr <- what have you done to me

long post ahead and a lot of copium.

so back on my kurta shal bullshit in the hypothetical that he does have full scarlet eyes. what does that mean? well ill tell you.

according to togashi the scarlet eyes give the user a massive boost in aura and kurapika created a condition called emperor time to make himself a specialist and give him control over all 6 categories of nen.

and guess who (in this scenario) has scarlet eyes and knows how kurapika works.

shalnark.

now this is assuming two things: one, pakunoda scanned killua and has the memory of kurapika's hatsu explanation in full detail, meaning she transferred it to shalnark and the other five founding members before she died. two, the scarlet eyes grant an equal amount of power to every kurtan who had them.

ok so. scarlet eyed kurta shalnark right.

he has never used his scarlet eyes for nen related purposes because he has conditioned himself to hide them by containing his emotions to such a degree its scary. he probably doesn't even know about the power boost until pakunoda memory bombs him.

that being said, before greed island is introduced, he begins to entertain the idea that he could possibly use the specialist's power. what for you might ask?

to bring back the dead :)

there are a lot of things shalnark can use this power for, but he's just come off of mourning uvo and then witnessing paku drop dead in front of him. and now chrollo is suspended by a nen curse.

so on one hand, he could move forward and develop an ability that could remove nen curses. become an exorcist type and use his power to outright crush the curse.

but on the other hand. he can go backwards and undo the mistakes of the yorknew and make things right by starting where they first went wrong.

and so he decides to be selfish.

first its a struggle to remember how to make his eyes go scarlet and then the practice of harnessing that excess aura to replicate kurapika's specialist typing.

the first step goes easily because despair is the best catalyst for powerful emotions and as i said above. he's fuckin depressed as hell. so for the first time in a long time, shalnark lets himself cry.

and it works, his eyes turn red and he's got a massive boost of aura and efficiency in all six nen categories. (he doesn't name it like kurapika because he puts more effort into the following hatsu)

life and death are very much within the specialist category (see 2nd prince Camilla) so he'd be tapping mostly into specialist abilities. however, he also borrows from conjuror, emitter and a little touch of transmutation. to bring someone back youd need a lot of things so he needs access to almost all at once.

now comes the conditions. he has three modifiers that could help make this process more efficient. Emotion and Time. and then the necessary Life. Life for life is the rule of nen, especially when working backwards.

so his first two conditions are:

The dead must have died six months ago. (exactly 180 days) the further away from the exact time and date the more aura he spends.

the dead has to have been mourned by 10 people or more. as in the living have to make a gesture to express the loss of said deceased. and all 10 have to still be alive.

these are weak conditions but they're a good start. the time gap is to make up for lost time. by the time he starts making this hatsu it's been a month since the two spiders died and by his estimate he will need at least three more to perfect this to maximum efficiency. that being said, making the time sink universal is good for simple consistency.

the mourning part is using external emotions and ensuring that the deceased is worthy of coming back to life. since life wouldn't be returning to him, he would require more people than just himself.

third and fourth conditions quickly follow:

3. the dead has to have an appearance detailed enough to reconstruct with conjuration.

4. the last person who saw the dead has to say their name within two hours of the resurrection.

the third condition is simply applying conjuration techniques. and since shalnark is a nerd he probably has a good knowledge of human anatomy stored somewhere and paired with nostalgia he can ensure he can visualize his targets.

the fourth has a double function. one, it sets a time limit and two it implies that the killer has to remember who they had killed. this one is the really powerful condition that grants him a hell of a lot of power from if he can pull it off.

however, it's not enough and he still has to address the last modifier: life

5. however long it takes to complete steps 2-4, shalnark sacrifices 1 hour from his lifespan for every minute it takes. therefore, he can sacrifice a maximum of 120 hours or 4 and a half days of his life every time he does this.

6. two people that meet requirement 2 must be killed by shalnark and the resulting residual aura will be channeled through black voice and into the target.

by sacrificing two lives and a part of his own, he now has the Life required to return life.

the reason he has all of these clumped together is so that he can simply pull one trigger when all requirements are met. its a lot of setup but it could work.

he bundles it all up nicely under a fully realized hatsu five and a half months after working on it: Bleeding Heart - the Six Amendments of Death.

and of course he gets mad eepy after using all this bcs even with all those restrictions he is not fit for this.

this is one idea of many. the possibilities are endless. this is a certified nen nerd post

#hxh #shalnark #kurta shalnark theory #scarlet eyed shalnark #i yapped like crazy to masa #but wait theres more #my delusions are speaking to me #nen nerd

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dazzling-raven · 4 months

Text

This got way out of hand. 'Oh, I should write a little drabble to go along with the drawing I'm working on! Ittl be fun!' 6,000 words later and here we are. It was fun, I don't have regrets, but oh my gosh. Massive thank you to Inky Clawz on wofa for being my beta reader/editor. If anyone actually reads through the whole thing thank you for reading about my little guys ^^

It all started with a letter. A single letter. It was a pale yellow in color. Small, and unassuming. It didn’t even have a wax seal. “It’s from your mother. She understands if you don’t open it, but in my opinion it would be best if you did.” The messenger had said, then backed away. At first Chip had been confused as to how she had even found his address, but then he remembered that he and his husband ran what could probably be considered two of the most popular shops in the SkyWing kingdom. Dragons came from all over to try Chip’s wonderfully unique pastries or get cleverly crafted tattoos done by his husband’s talons. Some just came to look at them and talk. It wasn’t every day you saw a SeaWing in the Sky Kingdom, much less an ivory white and orange one. His husband was no different- he was an ‘illusive’ NightWing, and a good looking one at that. If they weren’t head turners already, jaws would drop to the ground once dragons caught sight of their wedding bands. Word of mouth travels faster than any advertisement could, after all.

Chip found himself avoiding the letter for days- he had even considered tearing the letter into little shreds on more than one occasion. However, his husband, Voyant, had noticed that Chip had been acting off as of late. Because of course he did. He had known ever since meeting him that fateful day that NightWing powers were all a lie, but he might as well have been a mind reader with how quickly he was able to catch on to Chip’s emotions. After tucking their adorable little dragonet into bed (and reading ‘The Ten Little Scavengers’ to him for the tenth time) he had trotted into the living room where a fire was already waiting for him. His heart melted at the sight of his husband, who had been curled upon their rug. He had been sketching out a new design, his black, forked tongue poked out between his fangs in concentration.

His black scales gleamed in the firelight, and if you angled your head just right you could see a faint purple shine dance across them. His pearl white underbelly rose and fell with each breath, and the dual crescent shaped silver scales behind his eyes glimmered softly. “See something you like?” His husband asked with a coy smile, stretching out slightly and resting the pencil on the floor.

“Just admiring a work of art.” Chip replied smoothly, walking over to him with a grin. He bent down and gently bonked his husband’s head with his own, then curled into his side. Voyant’s tail immediately intertwined with his, and Chip felt his husband drape his wing over his smaller form. The two sat there for a while, and for a moment Chip let himself go. He felt so comfortable and safe in his husband’s embrace, and he never wanted this moment to end. He listened to his husband talk about his day, but he felt his gaze wandering back to the piece of paper sitting on their countertop. Still unopened.

“Is it about the letter?” Voyant asked abruptly, having followed Chip’s stare. The SeaWing immediately felt like trash for not giving his husband his full attention, but he nodded.

“Yeah. M’sorry about not saying anything sooner, but…” he hesitated, his claws fiddling with the red bandanna still tied around his husband’s neck.

“It’s been hard? Scary, even? Not knowing what’s inside?” Bingo. Voyant always knew how to word things better than he ever could have. The SeaWing nodded, almost wishing he could curl up into a ball and disappear. He didn’t though, instead focusing on his husband’s slow, even breaths as he steadied his nerves.

“I know, it’s silly. We fought in countless battles, rescued Solaris from the talons of Scarlet herself, and I got my legs *burnt by lava* and I can’t even handle a few words written on a scroll.” Chip growled, clenching his talons in anger.

“I don’t think so. We both know what she did and how she treated you. Sometimes words can hurt more than the sharpest of swords or the hottest fires. It’s ultimately your choice, but running away from the ink on that paper and not knowing what she wrote could eat away at you later down the line.” The NightWing said, taking Chip’s talons in his own and rubbed them to get them to relax.

Chip felt the rage seep away from his scales as he took in Voyant’s words. Then he smiled. “Wow, I never knew you were a wordsmith. Hey, which ghost in the room possessed my husband this time? I'd like him back, please! We’re trying to have a serious and emotional conversation here!” Chip said, grinning as his husband’s face went from serious, to confused, and finally mock offense as the SeaWing looked around the room, smiling like an idiot.

“Well Ex-CUSE me, your majesty. If you don’t want my help I'll just pack my things and take our son for a nice vacation. I think the SandWing kingdom is looking for some new visitors. I’ve heard that they fancy poetry that you simply don’t appreciate.” The NightWing said in a faux snobby voice, standing up in a semi graceful movement and walking a few paces away.

“Wait, I- pfft- I’m sorry-” Chip said, his quick apology interrupted by gasps of laughter as he stumbled to his feet like a drunken idiot.

“Nope! You’ve officially missed your chance, Mr. Seastar. Come back next year when the almighty and powerful Voyant is back in town. Then, and only then, you may even THINK kissing his talons and winning back his heart.” The NightWing said, smiling as he lifted a paw into the air and pretended to admire the imaginary jewelry on his claws.

“Mr. Voyant, please! Just one more chance? I promise I’ll make it up to you!” Chip pleaded with a grin, finally steadying himself as he giggled to himself.

Voyant paused as if considering Chip’s plea, then nodded. “All right, SeaWing. What’s in it for me?”

“This,” Chip said, closing the gap between them. He held a talon to Voyant’s face, and guided him in for a kiss. It was clunky and awkward with how the both of them were giggling, but that’s what made it special. “That work for you, Voyant the great and powerful?” He smirked, relishing in his husband’s surprise.

Voyant snorted and rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Fine, I could get used to this.” He said definitively. “Consider yourself forgiven,” Chip grinned, giving him a quick kiss as a little bonus for putting up with his tomfoolery.

The two of them quieted their giggles and sobered up after a bit, sitting right there on their polished wooden floor. They lingered in the comfortable silence for a while, before Chip decided to break it. “I’m going to read it. Do you think you could… stay with me?” He asked, looking at his husband with hope.

“Of course. Let’s go back to the rug.” The NightWing said, standing up and trotting over to their previous spot. Chip nodded, grabbing the letter and following after him. He easily snuggled into his husband’s side, resuming the position they had been in previously. Chip paused as he looked at the scroll in his talons, but unraveled it as his husband gently nudged him with his head.

“My dearest dragonet

Dear Seastar,

I apologize that this letter has only been spurred on by recent events. As your mother, I should have done more to try and reach out to you sooner to rekindle our decaying relationship. I would also like to take this moment to apologize for everything I have ever done to wrong you. As a parent, It should have been my duty to protect and guide you through life. Instead, you ended up taking care of me. I snapped, and you were banished with me by my own fault. It wasn’t right. I have no idea where you are in life. Are you happy? Are you sad? Are you married? Do I have grandchildren? I may never know the answers to those questions, and you have all the rights to keep that knowledge from me. However, as stated above, I am writing to you now to inform you that I don’t have very much time left on this continent. I am fading due to an injury I received near the end of the war. I hadn’t realized how bad it was until it was too late, and I’ve been using my final months to reflect on past events. Funny, how dying makes you think. I would like to talk and apologize to you in person. I’m aware that apologizing to you via scroll isn’t the best way to handle things, but I doubt you’re ready to see my face and I don’t think I could make the journey anyways. If you are willing to visit, I am staying at The Hearthstone Haven in the SandWing Kingdom. It’s in a quaint little village near the coast. I understand if you’d rather stay as far away as possible, however. It is entirely your choice.

Wishing you all the best in your future years, your mother”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, digesting what they had just read. Chip hadn’t realized he had been shaking or crying until his talons began to crease the page and his tears dropped onto the paper. Voyant’s eyes widened in surprise and he gently took the note from him. “She makes me so *angry*, Voyant. And the worst part is that I know she’s being completely genuine.” He growled, snuggling further into Voyant’s side and hiding his face in the crook of his husband’s shoulder. He hated when Voyant saw him cry, but he didn’t know what to feel. He was angry. Sad. Regretful. Hopeful. Did he want to even see her again? Yes! …No. It was complicated. Chip was thankful that Voyant let him hide away until he was ready to look at him again. When he was, he took a shuddering breath and gave his husband a gentle nudge. “Can we leave this for another day? It’s late and we both need rest.”

His husband’s eyes widened a bit, clearly expecting him to say something else, but agreed nonetheless. “Let’s. You look exhausted, and I bet I don’t look much better.”

Chip snorted, agreeing with that statement. They both stood up and stretched, then walked off to their shared bedroom. Voyant placed the scroll on the simple nightstand that was next to their bed, and they both snuggled up for the third time that night. This time, however, they both managed to drift into dreamland.

Chip hummed to himself as he made everyone breakfast. He had purchased salmon for himself and Voyant that morning, and was now cooking it over their fire. It wasn’t very often that he was able to have fish, and he had jumped at the chance when he found a traveling SeaWing merchant that had been selling them. Keeping an eye on Voyant’s fish (he preferred his raw), he trotted back over to their open kitchen. He wandered around their island to get to their water basin, dipping his talons in to wash them. Once he finished, he plodded over to where he had left his son’s breakfast. He picked up the knife from the cutting board and began chopping up grapes, strawberries, cantaloupe, and other various fruits and scraped it into a smooth wooden bowl. Fruit was also fairly uncommon, but he was friends with one of the few SkyWings that sold it in the sky kingdom. He was always willing (and thankfully able) to pay a little extra to give his son the food he preferred, though he usually got his at a cheeky little discount.

“Daddy!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. His son bounded over to him, his scales a bright, vibrant gold mixed in with his usual forest green. “OOh, what’s that? OHMYGOSH, is it FRUIT?!” He asked, spotting the colorful food as he jumped onto Chip’s back.

“Woah! Hey, Morning to you, too, kid! Careful, I’ve got a knife. Hey, why don’t you go wake up your Pappa for me? Sneak attack style, like how I taught you.” Chip said, laughing as he put the knife back onto the cutting board. “Once you’ve done that, I’ve got a special question for you. Ok?” He asked, grinning as he tried to turn around and look at his kid.

“Ooo, Ok! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” the little RainWing nodded, orange and purple now bursting through his scales like fireworks. He began to breathe calmly, the color sliding from his scales like water as he faded seamlessly into the background. His feet were even the colors of Chip’s scales. “Like this?” He whispered, and Chip grinned and nodded. Gold burst through random patches of air before they disappeared again, and Chip felt a weight lift from his back. The only thing that gave him away was the quiet sounds of giggling. Chip felt a strong sense of pride and adoration as he looked at where he thought his son was, then remembered the now quite done salmon on the fire and quickly rushed to get it on a plate. It wasn’t burnt, but it was definitely quite smokey. Chip sighed in relief, walking over to the low mahogany table and set Voyant’s plate down. He’d forgive him for what was about to happen after he saw what was for breakfast.

“BOO!”

“YEOWCH! Ok, message received! I’m up, I’m up! No claws, you little monster. Hey! Ohh, I’m gonna get you for that one!” Chip heard Voyant shout, quickly followed by a streak of gold-yellow as the little RainWing shot out of their bedroom. “You’ve awakened the big, bad Darkstalker! He’s come for you and your soul! He’s going to put you in a stew and gobble you up! ROARGH!” Voyant shouted, grinning as he stampeded over to their son.

“NO! Go ‘way! Can’t catch me!” Their son yelled gleefully, flapping his little wings to gain momentum as he leapt onto the countertop.

“Watermelon, no countertops!” Chip chided, smiling as he watched his free morning entertainment.

“No! I have the high ground!” His son retorted, balancing on his hind legs to make himself look taller. “Go back to the darkness from where you came, you evil beast!” he commanded, stumbling slightly as he pointed at his husband with a small, light gray claw.

“Never! Simple words do not work on the Darkstalker, little boy! Only a true hero can defeat him! ROAR!” Voyant shouted again, grabbing his son by the underarms and bringing him close with a quick movement. “Prepare to be stew!”

“No! Pappa- Staph-” Watermelon said, shrieking with laughter as he tried to push Voyant’s head away from him to no avail. Voyant made an ‘om nom nom’ kind of noise as he pretended to feast on their son, his shoulders shaking with barely concealed laughter.

“Ok, you two. Before The Darkstalker gets full on little RainWing, does he perhaps want to see what’s actually for breakfast?” Chip asked, gesturing to the table with his wing.

“Perhaps he does. Alright, little child. Consider yourself spared and the victory yours. I’ve tortured you enough.” Voyant said, laughing as he settled their son down.

“HA! That’s right! Now go back and give me back my Papa!” Their son ordered, spreading his red wings and puffing out his light gray underbelly with pride. Voyant, a good natured father, rolled his eyes. He followed his son's demands and retreated to his bedroom once more. As he did, Chip snuck around their son’s small frame and grabbed their breakfasts. His husband stayed in their room just long enough for him to be able to set them on the table. “What happened?” He asked, faking being delirious as he looked around the room.

“Pappa! You were possessed by the Darkstalker! You were going to turn me into stew, but me an’ Daddy saved you before you could eat me!” Watermelon cried, running over to the NightWing and doing his best to hug his forearm.

“Did you now? Well, aren’t you a brave little hero?” He asked, rubbing his son’s back before looking over to Chip with a fond smile.

“Yeah! The bestest ever! I’m gonna save the world one day!” The RainWing proclaimed, grinning proudly.

“Well, heroes can’t survive on moxie and pride alone, can they? They need nutrition to get themselves through battles. Like Ironheart, remember? He would want you to let go of your Papa’s leg and get big and strong.” Chip said, chuckling as his son’s eyes sparkled at the mention of his favorite NightWing hero.

“Ohmygosh, yeah! Fruit for breakfast!” His son cheered, releasing Voyant’s leg and scrambling over to the table. He was just barely tall enough to peek his head over the wooden surface, so Voyant went and retrieved the dragonet’s stool for him to sit on. He hopped onto the stool with glee, then dragged the bowl close to him. As the two adults sat down at the head and tail of the table, Watermelon began to do his best to organize the fruit in the bowl before eating it. Chip smiled at this, thankful that his son remembered not to put the sticky fruit on the wood this time. He shouldn’t have been playing with his food at all, but at least this was an improvement.

He looked at Voyant, who just smiled and rolled his eyes before eating his salmon. Chip, though previously excited for this meal, could only poke and pick at it as his thoughts began to wander back to the letter. Noticing this, Chip’s husband looked concerned and tilted his head. “Letter.” Chip mouthed to him, and Voyant nodded in understanding. Chip hesitated before nodding to his son, who was happily sticking the blueberries onto his claws and eating them off one by one. Voyant gave him an uncertain look, but shrugged as if to say ‘up to you.’ Chip sat for a few moments, eyeing his son as he began to pretend his fruit was a bunch of tiny scavengers that he was going to eat and destroy. “Watermelon” he said, his son’s head snapping towards him with wide eyes. “Do you remember the special question that I wanted to ask you?”

The dragonet relaxed immediately before an orange purple mix burst through his scales again. “Yeah! I do!” He exclaimed, nodding vigorously.

“If you had a family member that you had never heard of or seen before, would you still want to meet them? Even if they have no knowledge of you, either?” Chip asked, getting straight to the point. He knew that Watermelon was young, but he was a perceptive little dragonet. He would always surprise Chip and his husband with thoughtful answers or observations when they thought he wasn’t even paying attention.

Watermelon looked thoughtful, humming briefly and forgetting the fruit on the table. “I think so. I could get to know them and we could be best friends!” He chirped happily, then went quiet. “Is this about Nanna?” He asked, blue and a darkish purple overtaking most of his scales. “I heard you talking about her last night.” He clarified when he and Voyant shared surprised glances.

“Yes, this is about Nanna. It’s ok that you heard us, I’m sorry if we woke you. Would you still like to see her? You can say no if you really don’t want to.” Chip said after a brief hesitation.

“I wanna meet her. Even if it won’t be for very long, I still want her to know me.” His dragonet said quietly, suddenly finding the table to be very interesting.

“All right. We’ll figure something out. Why don’t you finish your breakfast? Then we can go play with Tor once you’re done.” Chip said, smiling as gold overtook the unhappy colors on his son’s scales.

“YAY! Ok!” His son agreed heartily, gobbling up the remainder of the fruit before dashing into his room.

“Are you sure about this?” Voyant asked simply, finishing his breakfast.

“Yes. Even if I don’t really want to see her myself, I want to show her you two and what a family should actually look like. Not whatever the hell my childhood was.” Chip said, finishing his own breakfast. Even if he wasn’t hungry anymore, it was still good food that he didn’t want to waste.

Voyant sighed, but relented. “Ok. I’ll be with you every step of the way”

The odd little family stood at the entrance of The Hearthstone Haven. It had taken them a while to get here, with Chip leaving his bakery in the trustworthy talons of one of his squadmates and Voyant’s head manager taking over his shop. They didn’t really know how long they were going to stay - weeks? A day? An hour? So they had taken preparations to make sure everything was taken care of back home. Chip had written to his mother to let her know that they indeed were coming to visit, but not for how long. It was a terse letter, but it had gotten his point across. “All right. Let’s do this.” Chip said, using the pushing open the large twin doors.

The three of them walked the short distance to the receptionist’s desk, coming face to face with a bored looking SandWing.“Hi, we’re here to see Acropora?” Chip said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

The SandWing’s eyes narrowed as he took the group in, his black, soulless eyes staring each of them down. Chip could feel Voyant step closer to him, and his son stayed firmly behind him. “Seastar?” The SandWing eventually asked, his voice sounding slow and nasally as he worded out each syllable of his name.

“Yes, that’s me.” Chip said, nodding.

“The others?” The SandWing asked, his gaze flickering to the two unannounced dragons.

“My son, Watermelon, and my husband, Voyant.” Chip said, giving the dragon the most winning smile he could.

The older dragon only sighed, rolling his eyes. “Down the hall and to the left. Her room will have a nameplate. If you need anything from me, no you don’t.” The SandWing stated firmly, promptly going back to his work.

‘Squid brain’ Chip thought, frowning at the dragon before realizing what he was doing. “Yes, thank you!” he said, switching to his much more polite customer service voice before ushering his family in the direction the receptionist had vaguely given them.

“If I ever get like that, please force me into a home and don’t look back. Ever.” Voyant said once they were out of earshot, and Chip let out a surprised laugh.

“Voyant!” He scolded, smacking him over the head with his wing.

“Yeah, Pappa! Stop being mean!” Their son chimed in, his previously light green scales fading back to forest green and the occasional random bursts of gold.

“Me? He looked like he was going to stab us with his eyes! And you think I’m being mean?” Voyant squawked, groaning as his son just laughed at him. “All right, fine. You win! You always win.” The Nightwing said, smiling as he scooped his giggling son up and put him on his back. Chip and his son shared twin grins before he noticed his mother’s nameplate on one of the doors. His smile faded as he took in the sight of the simple oak. It wasn’t anything impressive, but he still felt intimidated by it. He hadn’t thought of what he was going to say until now. Would they cry? Would she sweep him into her wings and never let go? Or would he snap at her, ask her why she betrayed the trust of him? Their Ex-Queen? If it weren’t for him, she would have gotten herself and the two guards just trying to do their jobs killed that night. “Do you need us to go in with you?” his husband asked, standing beside him and brushing his wing with Chip’s own.

Chip jumped a little, having forgotten that they were there, but shook his head. “Knowing you two are out here is enough for me.” He said, smiling as he leaned his head against Voyant’s before taking a deep breath. “Wish me luck?” He asked, claw on the doorknob.

“Good luck Daddy!” His son chimed, scrambling off his husband’s back to give Chip a hug. Chip hugged him back, and Voyant joined them.

After a beat or two, Chip backed out of the hug to take another breath. “Stay out here with your Papa, ok? I’ll let you know if you can come in.” His son nodded, stepping back as Chip finally opened the door. He had to blink to get his eyes to adjust to the light of the room, but when he did one of the first things he saw was his mother. She had her back turned to him, so he hadn’t been noticed yet. The room she was staying in was small, but three medium sized dragons could move about comfortably if they kept their wings and tails to themselves. The room was mostly bare aside from the black carpeted floor and the white walls. His mother was standing at a desk facing the window, reading something on a scroll. Some plants hung on the walls in an attempt to bring some energy to the place, and it did help a little. They were bright and vibrant with life. “Mother?” Chip called, stepping through and closing the door behind him.

His mother jumped in surprise, nearly knocking the scroll off of her desk as she turned around. “By all the whales, does no one know how to knock in this moons-blasted building? Who the- ah.” She said, cutting herself off once she realized who it was. The two of them stood quietly for a moment, neither really sure what to say. For the most part, his mother looked the same as the day he had left her. Same light blue scales. Her underbelly was still the same color of finely ground, pure sand. Her wings were still a quiet shade of gray-blue. Her aquatic markings were slightly darker than the rest of her scales, and her horns were still the color of a cloudy day. The only noticeably different things about her were the blue glasses that rested on her snout, curling elegantly around her horns, and the bandages that were wrapped around her chest, protecting her heart. It wasn’t much, but still something to keep things from getting any worse. “I’m surprised you actually showed up. I know you wrote back, but still. It’s… nice to see you in person.” She said, moving closer before stopping herself. Chip said nothing.

“You’re right. I should not have done what I did, nor said what I spoke. I am owed nothing from you. I was not in the best of places that day, though that is not an excuse. Then you stepped in and threw everything away for me. I should have died in that throne room, but you defended me. You could have just stood by and let it happen, but you didn’t. Ever since he left us, it was a downward spiral for me. I miss him every day, and he makes me angry for your sake. Then we were in the desert. You were handling everything better than most would have, despite everything. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was all just too much, and I wrongly lashed out at you. For that, Seastar, I am truly sorry.” His mother said, sitting down. Her tail curled around her talons, and they were both quiet as Chip processed what his mother had said.

“It’s Chip.” He finally said, stepping away from the door and closer to her.

“What?” She asked, looking incredibly confused.

“What I prefer to be called. I haven’t used the name Seastar since getting put into my squad.” He informed her, smiling a little. He moved to sit down next to her.

“Oh. Ok, Chip.” She nodded, accepting the change as it came.

“I don’t forgive you. At least, not yet. You made everything incredibly difficult. I never wanted to fight for Burn. I wanted to fight for Coral and my tribe. But I do have to thank you. I realize that if everything was perfect, I would have never achieved all my accomplishments. I would have never met my husband, or adopted my dragonet. I’m only here because they wanted to know you. If not for them, I would have torn that letter to shreds without opening it. It will take time, but maybe, just maybe, we can at least make things work.” Chip said, watching his mother’s expression change from understanding to surprise and joy as she processed what she had just heard.

“Husband? Dragonet? Sea- Chip, when did this happen?” She asked, excitedly grabbing his talons before she realized what she was doing.

Chip grunted in surprise as all of his weight was suddenly shifted onto his bad legs, but he quickly masked the strained expression he had made with a laugh and a smile. His mother quickly apologized to him, setting his talons down again. “A while ago. Would you like to meet them? I think it would be best if they heard everything from you and if we shared our story together.”

“That would be wonderful.” His mother said, her dark blue eyes bright with excitement.

Chip stood up with a smile, then walked over to the door to let his family in. “Ok, It’s go time.” He said, and Voyant walked in, their son close behind him. “This is Voyant, and this kiddo here is Watermelon.” He said, introducing both dragons in turn.

“A NightWing! And a good looking one at that. How did you manage to snatch this one up?” His mother asked, a teasing grin on her snout.

“His charm.” Voyant answered simply, sitting down next to him.

“Um. Hi Nanna! I’m Watermelon!” His son introduced himself again, his scales a combination of light green and gold as he bounded up to her.

“Watermelon! Hey, kiddo! You’re so big! How old are you?” His mother asked excitedly, easily matching his enthusiasm.

“I’m two an’ a half!” He squeaked, grinning proudly.

“Wow, that’s amazing! I know where you got your good looks from, too.” Chip’s mother said, gleefully watching her grandson’s scales quickly turn to a light violet.

“Oh! Nanna, look what I can do! It’s really cool!” he said enthusiastically, then concentrated as he studied Chip’s mother for a brief moment. Suddenly, light blue scales washed over their son like a waterfall, and a miniature version of Chip’s mother was standing before them. He was an exact copy of her.

“That’s incredible! A little freaky, but incredible.” Chip’s mother said, sending a stunned glance to Chip and his husband. Both parents just looked proudly at their son.

After a few minutes of watching the two of them interact, Chip finally decided to clear his throat to get their attention. “All right, we can pick this up at a later time. Why don’t I get us something to eat and we’ll talk over dinner?” He asked,and his mother nodded.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” His mother said, nodding. “I know the cutest little places to eat, but I was thinking that I could treat the three of you. You came all this way, after all. Is that all right?” She asked, tilting her head.

Chip perked up in surprise, and after sharing a glance with his husband, nodded. “All right, show us the way”

The four of them talked throughout dinner. Then some more. Then they got kicked out by the grouchy restaurant owner who just wanted to close up for the night and head home. Chip and Voyant talked, and both of them decided it would be good for them and his mother to stay and help take care of her. There were high days, and there were low days. But Chip could tell that his mother really was trying, and he genuinely appreciated it. In turn, Chip tried as well. While it would never be the same as it was before, it was something new. Maybe that was for the better.

He could tell, however, that she didn’t have much left in her. They all could, even Watermelon. That’s why they made every day an adventure. Something fun. Even when it rained and no one wanted to go out, there they were. A family of oddballs dancing in the rain and splashing in puddles. Then they would all go back and dry off, curl up together, and read a cozy book.

“Chip,” His mother said one day, when it was just him and her. When he looked at her, she continued. “I want to thank you. You’ve made the past few months amazing for me. Some part of me was afraid that I would have no one in the end, but here you are. You’ve given me the chance to have a family again. I thought I had lost that forever when we were separated by Burn. I am eternally thankful that you decided to give me a second chance and not give up on me.”

“I definitely had to sit on your letter for a while. But Voyant and Watermelon convinced me to see you, so you should really be thanking them. But I am glad to be here, and I can tell everyone else is, too. What’s this about?” He asked, tilting his head.

“The drawer. Open it, and you’ll find your answer.” Chip did as he was told, and his heat sank. But then he kind of chuckled to himself as he continued.

“I see. Are you sure you want to be set on fire though?” Chip asked with a grin, and his mother nodded.

“Going out in a blaze of glory. I think the dragons of old had some pretty neat traditions, and that’s how I want to be remembered. Forget being buried, this is way cooler.” Chip’s mother said, matching her son’s smile.

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do.”

Chip sat on the beach, tears dripping down his snout. His mother had passed away hours prior, and his heart was tearing itself to shreds. He had forgiven her a long time ago, but he had only told her on her deathbed. He watched the ‘boat’ sail away, Voyant’s flames blazing brightly. His mother had wanted a warrior’s burial. She had read in old scrolls that there was once a tradition amongst one of the tribes to send their dragons out to sea and a family member would light the boat on fire. Their soul would rise with the flames, and their body would reunite with the ocean. Obviously Chip was unable to do so, but Voyant had complied at his mother’s request.

Even though he had known this would happen, it still hurt. Perhaps it would have hurt less if he hadn’t showed up at all, instead choosing to stay home and continue running his business like there was nothing wrong. But Voyant would have been right. The letter would have eaten him up from the inside if he hadn’t even touched it. His son would have never gotten to meet his Nanna. Even though he hated seeing the blue on his son’s scales, he could still see patches of gold in them. He was upset, but enamored by the sight in front of them and comforted by the memories they had made. Voyant was sitting beside him, watching the flames eat away at the odd structure.

Ultimately, Chip was glad he had opened the letter.

#wings of fire fanart #wings of fire #wof art #wof oc #wof #wof ocs #wof fanart #wof seawing #wof nightwing #wof rainwing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #raven's art

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 4 months

Text

Hey y’all guess what?!? :) it’s time for a new episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE!!!

Who ordered some old man yaoi? That’s right, this one is set right after If Heaven And Hell Decide, with a sick Kyle, worried Stan, the best little immortal cat of all time, adding injury to illness, two middle aged men being massive fantasy dorks, all that goodness. Very sorry to my favorite arthritic ginger it will happen again, very sorry to his extremely concerned husband.

And y’all. I’m dedicating this to the Sickfic Queen herself, @alwaysinstyle who consistently kicks ass and gets stoked about style taking care of each other with me. Ana I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. All the people in your corner, we have you covered.

Also OFC the rest of the RANT homies have been subjected to random snippets of this over the past 2 weeks or so (jesus my sadsack ass needs to get some motivation back how has it been two weeks) but hey I will always be obnoxious when the mood strikes me and this long ass monstrosity is FINALLY done!!! Thank y’all fr for putting up with me.

Here’s •Well, That Would Be Pretty Odd•

A subtle knock at the door drew Stan’s attention and Kyle from uneasy rest. His husband’s head lolled exhaustively in his hand, still drained of energy and, according to the screen displaying his vitals, running a pretty high fever. Stan kept one arm protectively over him and turned to the door. “Yeah?”

The doctor entered, shutting the door behind her. “Hey, guys, how are we doing in here?”

Kyle pulled up slowly, clearly emotional, like he always got when he was sick. “Can I go home yet? Moose needs me.”

“Our cat,” Stan explained. “He’s worried he scared our cat.”

“I did.”

“Scared the hell out of your husband, too, sick as you are. It says on the chart you guys filled out that your blood sugar was low enough to potentially trigger a seizure. If he hadn’t acted as fast as he did, you’d be even worse off than you are.”

Kyle slumped back into Stan. “He always rescues me,” he murmured.

Stan felt like crying. “I’m your knight when you need me, dude.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, what’re we working with here? Stomach flu, dehydration, complications because of the diabetes, all that, right?”

“Right. Kyle, we have you on antivirals and fluids via IV for now, and I know you’re eager to get home-“

“-he hates hospitals-“

“-I hate hospitals.”

The doctor smiled kindly, even after getting interrupted. Stan liked her. “We’re keeping you overnight at least, but if your vitals are still stable and your fever is less than 102, we can send you home.”

Stan knew Kyle appreciated being the one addressed about his own health. This doctor could read the room, that’s for sure. Kyle nodded tiredly, eyes closed.

“How about when we go home? What’s the plan?” Stan inquired, tired as fuck himself but making an exception for Ky, always.

“Fluids, rest, anything with nutritional value that can stay down. Your friend in the waiting room mentioned orange juice as you guys’ go-to when Kyle’s having trouble with blood sugar? And he said you’re always diligent about keeping an eye on his health.” She was definitely addressing Stan now, since Kyle had clearly relinquished responsibility for the time being, knowing Stan had him covered. Hell yeah he did. “Any further complications; if you catch the bug too and can’t take care of him, another bad sugar drop or fever spike, and you guys come right back here. But at this point, it’s looking like this is something manageable from home, fingers crossed.”

And Stan had every finger crossed. He’d take care of Kyle, just like Kyle took care of him. Even if he was kind of scared as fuck, not having seen him quite this sick since maybe college. Or even when they were kids and he needed kidney surgery. He bit the panic down. Kyle was okay.

“Gotcha. I can spend the night? Spousal rights and everything?”

“You won’t convince him not to stay if you say no,” was Kyle’s muffled reply.

The doctor laughed. “I won’t make you leave. The last thing I want is either of you worked up, especially you, Kyle. If you need your husband with you to be comfortable-“

“-mhm-“

“-that’s not a problem in my book.” She tapped her clipboard with long fingernails. “There’s a call button on the bed if you need anything between the nurses checks, and I’ll tell your friend he’s free to go. He isn’t allowed back here, I’m afraid, but I can also let him know he can be the one to pick you up in the morning, if that’s what you two want?”

Kyle mumbled something that sounded like “like a good neighbor, Tucker is there” to the tune of the state farm insurance jingle. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he’s pretty delirious, alright.” A couple quick checks to Kyle’s IV line and heartbeat monitor, and she was gesturing for Stan to lay his half asleep husband back down. “You boys get some rest. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Stan whispered, letting Kyle nuzzle into his chest as she left the room. Once they were alone in the darkened space, he kissed him softly on the top of the head. Kyle was a space heater. But if the hospital staff wasn’t alarmed, they were okay. “I’ve got you, baby, just sleep.”

The next morning, Kyle improved enough to leave and discharge paperwork done, they faced the problem of actually getting the sick man home.

Stan waved off the nurse’s offered wheelchair and stubbornly picked Kyle up because like hell was he losing even a second of contact. That and he took pride in the fact that he was in his 40s and still able to carry his husband.

“Sir, there’s procedure…”

Kyle snorted from where his head was against Stan’s shoulder, coherent enough to be aware but still too weak to insist on, god forbid, trying to walk on his own. “Believe me, ma’am, there’s no way in hell you’re convincing this guy not to carry me. Losing battle, mark my worms- words.”

Someone needed to be home in bed.

The nurse sighed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth argument. Thank God, because Kyle could out argue anyone normally, but he was fucking tired.

“Just sing me home again, Orpheus,” he murmured into his husband’s ear.

Stan laughed at the reference. “Alright, ma’am, so if we’re all set….”

“Yes, yes, you can go. Hope you feel better.”

Kyle only had a vague recollection of both Stan and Craig yelling at the hospital staff when they brought him in, which was kind of funny to think about. Craig didn’t get worked up about things easily, and Stan was as gentle as they came. But it was nice to know his friend and his partner were willing to act so out of character for his sake. He muttered a “hey, spaceman” in greeting when Stan lowered him into the back of Craig’s car, mid morning sun forcing him to keep his eyes closed.

Craig barked a short laugh, pulling from the parking lot when both his passengers were settled for the short drive. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“I’ll get him set to rights, kick the plague’s ass,” Stan said, softly kissing his husband’s still too warm forehead. “Thanks for picking us up, dude. And for last night.”

“No biggie,” Craig shrugged nonchalantly. “Someone had to keep a level head and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be either of you.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Craig was probably the least prone to getting over emotional person Stan had ever met.

Craig’s husband, however, was the exact opposite. Upon getting home and getting up to bed, Kyle could faintly hear the frantic voice of Tweek downstairs, bringing Moose back from spending the night over at apartment two.

Kyle was nauseous, not to the point that he had been, but nauseous all the same, waiting for Stan to be done retrieving their cat and filling Kyle’s water. He felt weak as shit, and sweaty, which was probably a reasonably good indicator of his fever coming down, but it fucking sucked. And he was going to need some soup or something in him soon so his blood sugar didn’t get so bad again, which was another thing that sucked, because why do flesh prisons require so much maintenance? Why did his body require so much to function.

He didn’t realize tears were flowing until Stan entered the bedroom, hands full with the water, a KMBS, and one of those bottled protein drinks that tasted like chalk. Moose was quick to jump up and pad softly over to him, big blue eyes so worried and sweet as he curled up beside him. Kyle’s two blue eyed boys.

The second of whom was setting the drinks on the bedside table. There was a straw in each, so Kyle wouldn’t have to move as much to drink. It made him cry harder.

“Shhh, dude, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Stan climbed onto his side and grabbed the juice, holding it to Kyle’s lips. “I know you don’t feel good, that’s okay. I’ve got you. Go slow, okay?”

Kyle complied, the sharp taste of salted orange juice helping both physically and mentally. Plus, it’s hard to drink something and cry at the same time, so his breathing was a little less sporadic. A few sips were all he managed before his stomach started rolling, and he shook his head. Stan understood, setting the cup down and pulling Kyle’s face into his chest. “Just sleep, baby. I’m gonna have to check your temperature and levels in about an hour, but just sleep until then, alright?”

“Mhm.”

Stan would take care of him. Kyle would put up a fight, when he had the strength to, but Stan knew from experience that he’d be ‘secretly’ loving being cared for.

The husbands had a couple favorite positions to hold each other in. They’d hold the other from behind, arms wrapped around and poised to kiss an exposed nape or shoulder as a reminder of their presence. They would entangle themselves like they were doing now, they’d let the other’s head rest on their legs, Kyle would perch himself in Stans lap or Stan would drape over him like a blanket. Holding each other was safe. And in this moment Stan wrapped protectively around his sick partner like it was his sacred duty, one hand cradling Kyle’s head from underneath, fingers gently rubbing his hair, the other arm tucking him firmly against himself, feeling Moose’s purrs vibrating where the cat had claimed his place against Kyle’s back, right below the place Stan’s arm was wrapped around.

Stan glanced at the nightstand clock, keeping watch for the next time they’d need to wake up for a check in. About an hour and he’d get the thermometer to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, check Kyle’s levels, make them both something for, well, he supposed lunch at this point, and call the clinic to let his coworkers know that he’d be out a few days for a family emergency. He’d have to let Kyle’s work know too, before his husband tried to go into school still unwell.

Fitfully, Kyle dozed, sweating in his sleep, which Stan knew damn well he’d complain about when he woke up, but personally, he didn’t mind holding a miniature sun, because it was Kyle. Overheated, but still Kyle.

It hadn’t quite been an hour, but the warmth was starting to concern him. He gently kissed the top of his husband’s head, encouraging him to stir.

“Dude, hey.”

Kyle let out a tired whine as indication that he was awake.

“I know, baby. I just need to check your temperature and then you can go back to sleep.”

“I can check my own damn temperature,” Kyle protested, rolling over onto his back when Stan relinquished his grasp around his beloved. He scowled. “I’m all sweaty.”

Stan chuckled lowly. Was he right or was he right. “Gimme a second.”

Upon getting the thermometer and finding that they were still going in the right direction, Stan relaxed slightly. He let Kyle check both his temperature and blood sugar by himself, because it wasn’t worth the impending argument and the last thing he wanted was to make his husband feel helpless. Fever was down, but he definitely needed something to eat soon.

“Dude, do you think you can handle something solid, or you wanna keep sticking with drinks?”

Kyle hadn’t puked in a while, so he felt like maybe something simple, easy on the stomach, would be okay. As much as he wanted to keep going with the safe option of juice and a protein shake, he wouldn’t get better without something substantial in him and he knew it. “I can try. No promises.”

“You don’t need to promise anything,” Stan insisted, leaning down to kiss him on the way out of bed. “But I have an idea, if you’re okay by yourself for a few minutes.”

“Moose is with me. I’m not by myself,” Kyle remarked with a sleepy smile.

Stan snorted and went to change into jeans, last night’s pajamas not exactly ideal attire for walking to the BBQ place a block over. Kyle was weird about food sometimes, but Brendan’s mac and cheese was a simple, safe, Kyle approved bet. He’d probably want it to get cold first like he usually did (weirdo), but sick Kyle was sort of a wild card. They’d see.

“I’ll be back in fifteen, dude, drink some water.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Kyle heard the door close downstairs, slowly reaching for his water at the bedside, one hand resting on their cat’s head. Moose was stretched out along his side, fluffy tail dangling off the side of the mattress.

“You sleepy too, young nastyman?” Kyle asked, setting the bottle down and closing his eyes. Moose purred in response.

Apparently he’d drifted off again, waking up to the rustle of a takeout bag and a strong, smoky smell.

Kyle clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily the smell of brisket and ribs wouldn’t bother him, but in his half asleep state, smelling meat on Stan of all people…

“…Dude?”

“FUCKING CHANGE!” Kyle screeched, staggering up to run to the bathroom, tears in his eyes because the bbq place smell all over his vegetarian husband was wrong and disorienting and he hated being sick and fevers made him sensitive and an asshole and-

Falling hard in front of the toilet, he felt his knee go out. The cherry on top of the fucking cake while his stomach tried to escape his body. Kyle cried out in pain, which was cut off immediately by a wave of sick splashing into the porcelain while he attempted to move and take the weight off his left leg, shaking and already crying because he was pissed and it hurt and he couldn’t catch a damn break. Dry heaving and spluttering, he collapsed tiredly into the alcove between the toilet and the cabinets, one trembling arm draped over the seat and the other hand clutching his knee, eyes shut tightly against the light and the nausea and pain.

“Ky, hey, hey, oh, fuck, baby, shit, did you twist your knee? Okay, you’re okay, hold on-“

Kyle leaned over to retch again, choking out “YOU SMELL WRONG” because that’s all he could manage between gasps.

Stan yanked his shirt off and threw it through the open door into the hallway, past where Moose was watching with wide eyes from the threshold. “Okay, I’m sorry, is that better? Here.” He gently eased Kyle’s hand away from his leg, carefully straightening it out. “God, yeah, it’s already swelling.”

“WHY do I have to LIVE IN THIS GODDAMN FLESH PRISON?!?” Kyle slammed his fist against the floor, frustrated beyond belief. Stan caught his hand before he could do it again.

“Shh, Ky, c’mon. You’re okay, it’s fine.”

Seeing his husband like this, sick, aggravating his bad knee mid vomit, broke Stan’s heart. But he had him. He had him and wouldn’t let go. Was that dramatic? Absolutely. But when the fuck was he not dramatic about Kyle’s health?

“THAT FUCKING STUPID ASS NURSE!” Kyle was yelling. “Sending me sick kids, thinking they were just trying to get out of class, that BITCH!”

“Baby, dude, calm down, man, breathe.”

“YOU’RE ONE TO FUCKING TALK!”

Alright, point to Kyle. Stan sighed as Kyle heaved over the toilet again, expelling nothing but water. They really needed to get something in him before he wound up needing the hospital again. Stan gently rubbed his husband’s back as he hiccuped and cried, clearly feeling betrayed by his body. A few minutes of heavy breathing, and Kyle was pulling back up. “I- I think I’m d-done.”

“Alright dude, I’m gonna get you up now, that okay?”

“Mhm”

Very, very carefully, Stan hauled Kyle from the floor, mindful not to move his knee too much and going slow in case of another bout of nausea. Moose trotted into the bedroom after his dads, obviously distressed seeing Kyle cry and immediately curling back up against the redhead when Stan set him down.

Stan was honestly a little nauseous himself, because Kyle’s frustrated tears never failed to make him emotional too. But he knew what to do here, he reminded himself. Fever was coming down, leg flare up was pretty routine, Kyle would rant it out if he had to and Stan would be his yes-man, and liquids were probably going to be the staple for the rest of the day.

He rolled up a throw blanket and propped it under Kyle’s leg, taking some strain off the irritated joint and kissing his husband’s kneecap when he did so. “You want ice, babe?”

“Yes I want fucking ice,” Kyle mumbled, arms draped over his eyes.

Stan could admit to enjoying taking care of Kyle when he fucked up his knee; pissed off Kyle was cute. “Aw, baby, I got you.” He grabbed the takeout bag from the nightstand too, not knowing if the bbq smell was lingering there too. “I’ll stick this in the fridge for when you want something solid, okay? How ‘bout another Ensure?”

Kyle grumbled something inaudible that Stan took as a yes. Poor thing was so upset. But he had every right to be, and Stan would never be annoyed at him for that.

Downstairs, he debated making his husband a smoothie, but the blender was loud, and his head probably already hurt from throwing up. Instead, he just grabbed an ice pack and a shake (strawberry, still gross but the flavor Kyle hated the least), taking the time to scribble out the nutrition information, just in case. That practice was pretty much habit at this point; he’d started ripping off or crossing out the calories on food for Kyle when they were fourteen, when his favorite person was recovering from his eating disorder, and even if he’d been more than fine for a longgggg time, Stan was prone to reverting to the past. When Kyle wasn’t okay, for whatever reason, food lore got crossed out.

“Dude, you up?”

“Mm”

“Shit, babe.” Stan knelt by the bed to carefully apply the ice, reaching a hand up to thumb away a falling tear. “You just mad?”

“Fucking pissed,” Kyle moaned. “It’s not enough that I have the goddamn plague?!? I have to have to fuck my leg up too? My parents are, like twice our age and even they don’t have fucking arthritis!” Kyle pointed two middle fingers to the ceiling as a ‘fuck you’ to god, which was actually pretty funny, but Stan didn’t laugh. That would only make his husband madder.

“Ky, c’mon.” Stan cupped under his head to kiss his cheek, relishing in the subtle smile that action brought. “And your parents didn’t shred tendons and refuse to do physical therapy.”

“I am damn well aware my goddamn arthritis is my own fault, Staniel.” But he sighed contentedly, adjusting the ice pack before leaning back against the pillows. “That helps. I’m sorry.”

Declaring the anger over for now, Stan climbed into bed beside him. “Don’t be sorry, dude. How’s your stomach?”

“I don’t fucking feel good.”

“I know, dude, can you drink a little water? We have to keep you hydrated.”

“It’ll just come back up.”

“Not necessarily.”

Moose crawled up between his dads, small furry head on Kyle’s shoulder, knowing he needed comfort. Kyle rubbed his face on the cat. “Babyman, did I scare you last night? I did, huh?”

“Dude,” Stan started, “he’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Drink something and don’t move your leg.”

“I didn’t shred my tendons, by the way.” Kyle protested. “I just tore some shit a little.”

“Enough that it’s a problem even now.”

“See, you get it.”

Stan laughed. “Quit being a dick and go to sleep, baby. You know you’ll feel better. I’m right here, dude, whatever you need.”

“I’m not being a dick, I’m being contrary.”

“Same difference.”

“Mm.”

God, poor Kyle, pissed off, sick, having a flare up on top of everything else. “Dude, what do you need?”

“Leg hurts.”

“We have a pack on it, dude. Maybe some ibuprofen? You should take some for the fever anyway.”

“It hurts.”

Stan started to gently rub his partner’s knee. “I know, babe. I know it’s hurting.”

“I hit it on the floor.”

“I know you did.”

“Fuck this shit.”

Kyle knew he was being a total dramatic asshole, but he didn’t care. God had fucked him over; he could be a dick. That made sense. “I’m mad, dude.”

“That’s okay.”

And no he didn’t have the right to be mad. Stan was being so sweet. Always. Any time Kyle’s meat suit betrayed him and he got upset about it, Stan was there, doting and adorable as ever. “I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep.”

“Something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Oh, dude.” Stan wrapped around him, carefully. “We’re not OCD spiraling. We’re not. A little rest, alright?”

In actuality, Kyle was too tired to argue.

It had to have been a few hours when Stan felt Kyle stir against his chest, swinging over to get out of bed… and promptly falling with a loud “FUCK!”

“Ky?”

“I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT MY GODDAMN LEG!!!”

Stan sprang off the bed then too, getting on the floor beside his hyperventilating husband. “Dude, shhh, okay, okay, straighten it out.”

Sobbing, Kyle did. “D-don’t, freak, okay? I moved it weird, that’s all.”

“It’s fine, dude. Look at me. I’m not freaking out.” He was just doing a good job hiding it. Stan hated seeing Kyle cry, emotional, probably still feverish and nauseated, trying to get up in the middle of the night and falling on his knee, just the perfect storm of fucked up shit. But Kyle needed to stay calm, above all else. “What did you need, dude? Let me help you.”

“Water,” Kyle mumbled dejectedly.

“And guess what? You have me for that.” Stan carefully felt around his husband’s leg. “Can I turn a light on?”

Kyle responded by throwing up into the trash can, which had Stan gagging too. Fuck. Honestly, he was surprised he lasted so long without sympathy puking. “Hold on, baby.”

Stan rushed to the bathroom to empty his own stomach, somehow only just noticing that he still hadn’t put a shirt on from earlier. And Kyle hadn’t said anything about him wearing “outside pants” in bed, either, which was probably the best indicator of how sick he was.

Flushing down the panic induced vomit, Stan stood and glared at his reflection while he rinsed his mouth out, gulping a few handfuls of water from the sink. He had to keep it together. He needed a plan. Okay. Get Kyle back in bed, check his temperature and blood sugar, go downstairs to fill up his water and feed Moose, go from there.

Kyle had curled up on the floor back in the bedroom, and Moose had the zoomies. Stan sighed.

“Dude, okay, let’s get up.”

“Moving sucks ass.”

“I know it does, babe, but the bed is better than the floor.”

“Quit being right,” Kyle mumbled, allowing himself to be helped back under the covers. Stan snagged his readers from the nightstand, flipping on the lamp and grabbing the thermometer too.

“Okay, melmë, let’s see.”

Kyle smiled a little. “You look like a dad.”

“I am a dad,” he reminded him. Even if he’d bemoaned needing reading glasses and his body getting softer with age, his sentimental side was happy he had made it this far in life, especially with Kyle at his side. “Our son is bouncing off the walls as we speak. Open.”

Down to 100.3, thank whoever the fuck was up there. Maybe he should be thanking Kyle’s God, not having any attachment to one of his own. When he’d first started AA and found that part of the whole thing was putting things in the hands of a higher power, he had posed the question of what to do if you weren’t particularly religious to his sponsor. Mark had said “hell, put your faith in the doorknob if you want. Got you in here, didn’t it?”

“What’s the damage?” Kyle inquired.

“Definitely better. You want to check your levels or can I?”

Kyle slowly opened his eyes. “I got it, sweetheart, you’ve been doing so much.”

“Because I want to.”

“I’m difficult.”

Stan brought Kyle’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “It so isn’t your fault that you got sick, or that you hurt your knee, or that you have diabetes. In sickness and in health, right?” Kyle’s fond grin only grew, and Stan decided to let up on the overbearingness. He snatched Moose up quickly on the cat’s next lap around the room. “I’m filling your water and feeding the dragon, okay? Be right back.”

So he had sweat out most of the fever, it seemed like. Judging by how sticky he felt, Kyle was fairly certain he was over the worst. At least in terms of the fucking stomach flu. His leg was a different story.

It was dim in the bedroom with only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the window, and the soft light from the lamp, but he could feel that he’d aggravated his knee pretty bad. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The cartilage felt like it was grinding when he shifted. Kyle groaned in frustration, debating trying to hop over to the closet for his brace, but deciding against it, because Stan would flip his lid if he saw him standing. And considering what his blood sugar was at, being vertical was a bad idea anyway.

Said husband returned to the room. “I come bearing gifts for the king!”

Dork. Freshly refilled water, a KMBS, sleeve of crackers. Stan presented the juice. “Your elixir, melda târ. And-“ he beelined for the top of the closet, clearly having read Kyle’s mind.

“Thank you, my most dutiful and trusted of knights.” Kyle let him secure the knee brace, watching as those careful, strong, gentle hands worked, as Stan leaned down to kiss his leg when he was done. His Stan. His sweet Sir Marshwalker.

“Oh, shit, dude, are you crying? Does it hurt that much?” Stan was up by his face again. Kyle shook his head.

“It’s not that; I just- I really fucking love you,” he sobbed.

“Aw, baby, come here.” Stan climbed into bed and wrapped around him again, avoiding touching his husband’s stomach or leg. A little jingle of Moose’s collar announced their boy’s return to the bedroom, a tiny *prrrt* as the cat settled back at Kyle’s side. “You’re not as warm as you were, Ky, I think you’re getting better. That’s good, my love, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Kyle murmured against him, damp eyelashes tickling Stan’s chest. “You still don’t have a shirt on.”

Stan laughed. So he had noticed. “You complaining?”

“You know I’m not.”

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kaizey · 1 year

Text

I had a hypomanic episode at 3am and theorised an irish historical reading of Hoziers 'Foreigners God'

So while I listen to alot of variety while working, Hozier is a common part of my weekly background, and while I was researching for an article on wells in gaelic culture after going out and taking photos of local Sí mounds aswell, I feel like I got hit with the conspiracy theory beam that sent me into an epithany hyperfixation while listening to Foreigners God and how you can read it as a lament for the last millenia of irish history

The first verse talking about a romantacism of pre-christian, or specifically, pre-protestant plantation Ireland (before the Tudor conquest in 1536), given even early irish catholicism was by papl standards, basically pagan, as a wilder, more free place without the stigma enforced through religious and planter society ["She moved with shameless wonder. The perfect creature rarely seen"].

With the arrival of the english "liar brought the thunder", with the lie being able to maybe be read as the lie of "civilising us" ["Since some liar brought the thunder"]

In this, you could view the "She" as being an anthropomorphism of Éire, with the spirit of the people looking towards the author, either a singulr or collective representation of native irish, whos been continuously emptied out spiritually and culturally under colonialism, and now is filled with a growing hatred for not only the planters, but protestantism itself , even at personal cost ["But still my heart is heavy. With the hate of some other man's beliefs"]

The pre-chorus could be seen as a reinforcing of the scorn for the colonial planters, who especially in the 18th and 19th century, would have been mostly interacted with via the landlordism of wealthy protestant english aristocrats who maintained that their actions were justified in the name of "civilising" us, which would always hinge on violence ["Always a well dressed fraud. Who wouldn't spare the rod. Never for me"]

The second verse could be read as the most forward and lamenting, since it opens with the speaker rhetorically questiong their attempts at conforming to the heirarchy and imposed british way of life, and how often for the likes of peasant and working class irish, would mean performing the role of the simple, obediant but charming worker, to cling onto both employment and avoid potential backlash from the planter ["Wondering who I copy. Mustering some tender charm"].

The line returning to the state of Ireland and, assuming this vague time around the 1700's- early 1800's, our country had in essence been stripped of the majority of its natural and cultural resources, let alone any autonomy held by our people. And in that state of oppression, with minimal success in terms of organsed large scale revolution or uprising (e.g the 1798 uprising), Ireland could be read as having little hope of gaining freedom ["She feels no control of her body. She feels no safety in my arms"].

The last stanza of the verse could by far be the most emotional, especially for gaeilgeoirí, with the author lamenting his lack of language to express his pain for whats happened to the irish people. Explicitly, this could be read as being through the massive, systematic decline of Gaeilge. At the end of the 1700's, our population of ~5 million had estimated 3.5 million irish speakers. By 1851, following the famine, this had dropped to 1.5 million, and by 1900, only 600,000 remained on the island. This targeted attempt at cultural extermination had been going on for centuries, largely through the implimentation of Na Péindlíthe, or Penal Laws, specifically and extension of the staute of Kilkenny, which banned the use of irish when natives spoke to colonisers, and in 1851, banned any use of Gaeilge in areas under english rule. And any attempts to use or express our native language, music or culture was met with either legal, or often, violent rebuttal. All which you can read the author as expressing how with all that leaving them increasingly unable to truly express or show true love for the old Ireland that irish people and growing republicanism at the time wished to return to ["I've no language left to say it. But all I do is quake to her. Breaking if I try convey it. The broken love I make to her"]

It then just gets outright literal with the pre-chorus. English was and is not our language. The english cultural, historical and political weights placed on us were not ours. They were foreign words, and foreign ideals of a coloniser forced upon us ["All that I've been taught. And every word I've got. Is foreign to me"]

In no way saying is this valid or a well informed reading, but it was hard not to get sucked into the theorising and seeing serendipity betwen the sadness and loss in our history and the lyrics from one of our best musicians. Anyway. Hope if you enjoyed the mental ramblings if you got this far

#irish language #irish history #ireland #gaeilge #hozier lyrics #hozier #foreigners god

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dysfunctional-doodle · 3 months

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YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I DO THISSSS (well minus the evil clone stuff)!!!!! one time i got distracted by myself in the mirror and talked for about half an hour about stuff that didn’t make sense and then i stopped and realised. oh hold on. i’m supposed to be taking a shower right now. but at that point i had been talking so long i found it hard to stop lmao

for a second i thought you meant they were making motorcycle sounds with their mouths 😭😭

sad recorder noises 😔😔😔😔😔

(this donnie is written so sassily and dissapointed i love him here more than i do in the series (his voice kinda makes him more annoying to me… how does this guy voiced by one of the best vas in history have the worst voice in this show???? (although i guess that’s just my opinion (don was right rambling is great (adhd be damned this girl can go on very long and unnecessary tangents)))))

will always love how he just like. narrates his emotions or… sound effects???? idk what to call them. i think it’s thanks to him (and also lucy loud) that i say “sigh” instead of actually sighing (i also say shit like ‘smiling face emoticon’ or ‘sad face’ or ‘sobs’ out loud sometimes (wow i sure do love lore drops))

honestly yes that was a big oversight. i think there are like massive human hamster balls and i NEED to experience that please please please

HE’S LETTING THE CARDBOARD CUTOUTS BABYSIT THEM????????????????????????????????? AND IT ACTUALLY WORKS?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

leo honey. that is a cardboard cutout.

knowing this fic, this was definetly the right call

he’s figured out a way to get them to listen��

also THEMMMMMMMMMMM ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH <3333333333333333

this fic has me by the neck i swear to god.

also since i have one more image left i can send and no more screenshots to comment on i’m going to give you she/they mikey because even though i’ve posted her pretty much everywhere i can i. can’t remember how i was going to finish that sentence

anyways uhhhhh goodbye :3

(damn i had a lot more to say here today huh…. the urge to drop a random bit of information about yourself 24/7)

Firstly, love the drawing. All Mikey content is cherished here 🧡

Glad you liked the chapter! And I’m relieved you like the way I’ve written 2012 Donnie - I have only watched about four episodes of the 2012 show, and so I base a lot of his character on the Speed Demon episode. I do not like what they do with his character and the whole love triangle thing, a Donatello deserves much better than what he got. But I’ve been told from other ao3 users and anons here that they actually like 2012 Donnie’s character in my fic a lot, so I hope I’m doing something right lol. Idk. If anyone who has actually watched the show has any pointers feel free to guide me about how I write those boys :)

(I haven’t actually posted about this one being out yet, so those who are a little lost I’ve done a new chapter of my tmnt chat fic, Too Many Turtles)

#tmnt #tmnt asks #asks and replies #too many turtles #tmnt fanfiction

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uselesssomebody · 2 years

Text

𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 - singledad!bucky x neighbor!reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | bucky barnes masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || week to all hallows' eve

summary || in which bucky's neighbor really connects with his daughter

a/n || gonna be posting a few stuff today to make up for my absence ➵ part of my 'week to hallows' eve' halloween countdown. check out the masterlist ➵ not yet proofread ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

bucky knew how to deal with hair. he knew how to keep it soft, to keep it clean, to tie it up into both professional and casual pony-tails. he knew how to untangle it, and how to brush it without hurting the scalp. after all, he had kept his own hair almost shoulder length for quite a while. he’d never had a problem styling his little girl’s hair in the past, when she’d come to him with requests of ponytails or braids. hell, he’d even taught himself how to french braid for the girl but, as the time they should have been spending preparing to go trick-or-treating dwindled, he realized that the style that she had in mind was simply beyond his capabilities.

he ran a brush through it, detangling it again, and holding onto it right above the roots to ensure the knots would cease without causing any pain to her. she was distracted by the accents of her outfit, and he blows out a deep sigh, guilt-stricken at the thought of disappointing his daughter.

“sweetheart, are you sure you can’t have it like this?” he gently attempted to break the news to her, but she adamantly shook her head.

“no, daddy, it has to look like this!” she showed his reference picture again, and he nodded solemnly. he knew that the hair made or broke the costume, and he couldn’t ruin something she was so excited about. checking the time, he decided to employ his last resort. he turns his daughter’s chair around, taking her hand.

“c’mon. let’s go on a lil’ trip.”

bucky didn’t live with his daughter’s mother. the break-up had been swift enough, and he wasn’t too upset about ending the relationship, but he did regret the sheer loss of contact with the woman. she was never really too involved in their child’s life - invested in her own projects - and, though he didn’t too much mind that part, it did become difficult when he needed a woman’s expertise or perspective on certain topics. as close as he and his daughter were, there were simply some things better expressed within her own gender.

that was where she stepped in. she’d moved to the neighborhood just a while over two years ago. at first, they rarely met - her job keeping her out of the house for hours and sometimes days at a time. they’d met at the occasional barbecue or out on their lawns, and those few times showed just how good she was with his daughter. sometime last year, though, she’d switched to working from home and, suddenly, her schedule started lining up with his much more often.

after that, they’d drop by at each other’s places often. first, it was to ask for basics - do you have some sugar i could use? the store’s closed by now and i seem to have forgotten it… or could i borrow a wrench? my old one’s been a bit - er, misplaced, i suppose! - and, after that, it was to ask for small favors - i hate to bother you but i think my sink’s a bit broken and i hate to ask this of you, but could you look over her for a half-hour? i’ve just got to run into the shops.

since then, she’d pop in without warning, a dessert or snack in her hand - homemade, usually. then, when she found out that the young barnes’ favorite pastry was apple pie - courtesy of her uncle steve - she would bring it whenever she could. she’d be met with fond smiles and sung praises from bucky, but also a playful admonishment for spoiling his daughter.

though, he came to realize that, as he did, his daughter also absolutely adored her. she’d been a massive help when confused as to how to deal with his daughter’s expanding interests and emotions that he couldn’t really get.

he still remembered when he’d gone to her - completely baffled - with the topic of his daughter’s new kindergarten boyfriend. she was so young - and he couldn’t fathom the possibility. in fact, he had looked so grief stricken that she had unfortunately laughed when describing the problem, much to his indignance.

she was fantastic and, of course, absolutely gorgeous. had he been anyone else, he would have allowed himself to indulge in the thought of her so much more than this, though close, strictly friendly, neighborly relationship. but bucky knew that, though he was content in his choices, others say parenthood and the light of his life - his daughter - as a burden. after all, she was successful and seemingly fulfilled; who was he to add such a major role to her life.

still, he loved remembering the ways his little girl’s eyes shone at the mention of her.

he rapped on the door, his knuckles tapping the wood loudly. his daughter’s whole hand basically wrapped over one of his fingers, but she’s quick to release it at the sight of her opening the door, instead excitedly rushing to greet her. she grunts at the speed of the little girl’s pounce.

“oh, hello! is everything alright?”

“yeah, yeah, of course!” he reels his daughter back to him, keeping her in place, before swallowing, “just - look she’s got this idea for a hairstyle and i just can’t get the hang of it. could you - uhm -” she nods immediately, ushering the both of them in without hesitation.

they’d been inside several times and, as she ushers his daughter to go wait in the bathroom, he watches her try to finish arranging her candy for the night.

“oh, i’ve got that, please.” he immediately moves to her side, pulling at the super-sized bags on candy to place them in the neatly labelled buckets. she looks as though she wants to argue, but decides against it, smiling graciously as she goes to tend to the little one.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish emptying out the bags into the buckets, and he’s gone to see how the progress is going. she’s already got half of the girl’s pinned up delicately and cleanly, with not much more than a strand out of place. he watches her work her magic with a mixture of fondness at his daughter’s smiling face, and just a sheer awe at her ability to do something that he so struggled with.

it takes her no more that a few more minutes, taking the young girl to do a twirl in her completed outfit in the full-length mirror in the hall. she was giggling as she was being spun, before running to her daddy to show him her hair.

“wow.” it’s a true statement of wonder, and he looks up to see her blush lightly at the inherent complement. she crouches to be at the height of his daughter, caressing her dress with one hand to ease out any wrinkles and lightly taking her hand in the other.

“will i be seeing you, my little warrior?” his daughter looked up at him, and he pursed his lips in thought.

“oh, i’m not sure if your candy emporium -” she laughs at the analogy, “will still be open. we’re hitting our neighborhood last.” he daughter dejectedly looks at her, upset by the news that was new to the both of them. seeing this, she immediately shakes her head.

“it’ll still be open, i promise. d’you promise to come, honey?” she nods eagerly, babbling a promise! back at her, making her laugh, “d’ya promise, buck?” she tilts her head up to look at him, and he smiles.

“i promise.”

his daughter’s arms had gotten tired about halfway through with holding her heavy bag of goodies, and he was quick to her her out. now, with an absolutely brimming bag, they get to their last door of the night. he lifts her up a little so that she can reach the doorbell.

the door opens in moments and, with a toothy grin, she brandishes her bucket (with some support from her father)

“trick or treat!” she smiles at the little girl, picking out a large chocolate bar for the girl.

“and for, my little warrior, the best candy of them all!” having not seen the candy anywhere else, the young girl is elated, grasping at it and thanking her several times over. she looks up at the somewhat exhausted image of bucky, and smiles sympathetically to him, “wanna come in for a bit?” he looks a little surprised by the offer.

“are you sure?”

“’f course.” his daughter looks up at him.

“can i show her my candy, daddy?” she responds for him.

“of course you can, honey. c’mon, let’s got to the couch.”

as his daughter arranges her assorted goods on the coffee table, she brews hot chocolate for everyone, presenting the sweet drink in front of them in a few moments.

his daughter begins to explain her different treats but, as her drink dwindles, so too does her energy, and she’s quick to pass out on the floor. her father places her onto the couch, stroking her arm lightly to keep her in the soft lull of sleep.

“you’re real nice to her, you know.” he says it after a moment of silence, and it catches her a bit off-guard.

“she deserves it. she’s a real good kid - in most part due to her father.” she can see him flush at the compliment, and smiles.

“you help me out a lot, y’know.” she knows, but she also knows that he’d do the same for her.

“well, you are my favorite neighbor.”

“you mean it?” his tone’s a little different, and she looks up to see a gleam of flirtation in his eyes.

“i mean, who else could make single parenthood look so easy - and look good doing it?” he laughs, and she does too.

“she really likes you…loves you, i think. is that forward?” he’s a little worried by the comment, but he knows she won’t take it too oddly.

“not at all - i like-slash-love her too.” he smiles, as they both go silent, and for a moment, she knows what he’s thinking.

“do you think i could ever-”

“yes.”

“i didn’t ask the question?”

“shit, oh - no, it was just very obvious what you were gonna ask - go ahead, though, you can be a gentleman about it.” he laughs at her blunt response, but continues.

“alright then - could i ever take you out for a dinner? or a drink?”

she had been nodding already as he was asking the question, and he suddenly felt elated at her lack of hesitation

“please, that would be lovely.”

“will you come over to mine, then? friday?” she thinks for a moment, before nodding.

“friday’s good.” he looks at his daughter.

“i’ll find someone else to babysit for a change, then.” she laughs.

“nah, she can stay. i think it’ll be nicer.”

“y’think?”

“i know - who wouldn’t want her. she’s adorable!”

“you’re adorable.” she rolls her eyes at the cheesy comment, but the pink on her neck indicates her actual feelings.

“that was awful.”

“you liked it.”

“only because you’re the one saying it.”

“what can i say?”

“don’t say. get home, tuck her in and pick me up friday - 7 p.m.”

“yes, ma’am.”

#marvel #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #fluff #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #singledad!bucky #neighbour!reader #adorable #sebastian stan #week to hallow's eve #halloween

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longitudinalwaveme · 8 months

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The Retcon I'm Glad Hasn't Happened Yet

So, on TV Tropes, I found the following description of Len and Lisa:

"Captain Cold and Golden Glider. Jerks as they are, they were horribly abused by their father, who's cruel treatment of them left Leonard so emotionally broken he developed a cold and unemotive exterior that contributes to his "cold" image. Lisa, though more openly emotional, is still clearly affected by it herself and became a bitter, angry and violent person, not helped by the fact she also lost her boyfriend, The Top, who despite being an asshole had been able to make Lisa so hopelessly in love with him that she blamed Barry for his death and swore to hurt him as much as she could."

Most of this is accurate, with the exception of the part I bolded.

Doesn't the way that this is written make it sound like it was Roscoe's fault Lisa became a villain, and that she was the only half of the relationship to feel genuine love? I mean, Roscoe is undoubtedly a massive, massive jerk, but----and this is a BIG but-----he was not a jerk towards Lisa. Ever. There's nothing in any of Lisa and Roscoe's Bronze Age appearances that suggests that he was manipulating her in this way. Indeed, in Flash vol. 1 #297-303 (the Roscoe ghost story), we got to see them interact with one another quite a bit, and, in spite of the fact that both of them are generally dysfunctional and nasty people....their relationship itself was neither nasty nor dysfunctional. They work as an equal team, and if there's any manipulation, I don't see it. Roscoe isn't jealous of Lisa's flirtatiousness (no insecurity when she talks about how great Barry Allen is at kissing or about how hot he is), Lisa doesn't get frustrated with Roscoe's boasting, they compliment each other constantly, they work well together, and they protect each other to the best of their abilities.

It's also worth noting that, for the entire time Roscoe was alive, Lisa was not a criminal, and, since her debut comic (Flash #150) seemed to indicate that the two of them had been dating for at least a couple of years, that strongly suggests that Roscoe had no desire to lead her into a life of crime. Especially since he also served as her figure-skating coach, meaning that he was actively helping her advance in her career. That would make no sense if their relationship was a ploy to make her a supervillain or something. I seriously, seriously doubt that Roscoe decided to "make Lisa fall in love with him" just on the off chance that he might maybe die fighting the Flash, prompting her to become a supervillain to get revenge. If you want to manipulate someone into being a supervillain for whatever reason, there are much easier ways of doing it than having to actually drop dead before it happens. It's not like Roscoe knew he would be able to come back as a ghost. What, are we supposed to assume he did all this, up to and including his own death, just to spite Len or something? Even Eobard Thawne isn't that petty!

What's more, even Geoff Johns, who didn't like Roscoe and strongly downplayed the relationship Lisa had with him, never suggested that Roscoe was manipulating her....which is particularly significant since Captain Cold is the one narrating most of the scenes about Lisa (since she was dead at the time).

In his spotlight issue, he off-handedly mentions that Lisa became a Rogue after the death of her boyfriend the Top, with no indication that Roscoe was manipulating her into loving him or into becoming a criminal. If anything, Len puts more blame on himself for her becoming a criminal, since from his perspective (and, frustratingly, Johns' apparent perspective) she primarily became a Rogue to be with her older brother.

Later during the run, when a very, very mentally ill Roscoe popped up in the Rogues' hideout and brought up his relationship with Lisa as a reason that Len should allow him to stay:

"Your sister loved me, Cold. Your sister---"

Len tells him to not mention Lisa again (Len gets grouchy when people bring up his dead sister), but it's worth noting what he doesn't say here. He doesn't say "No, she didn't. You just made her think she did." or "Only because you manipulated her." or anything like that. If Roscoe HAD been manipulating her, I'm pretty sure Johns would have had Cold bring it up here, since Johns dislikes Roscoe out-of-universe and Len hates Roscoe in-universe. He's not going to be sugar-coating their relationship!

But anyway, now I'm really afraid that somebody at DC will bring Lisa and Roscoe's relationship back, but that they'll retcon/change it so that it's more in line with the apparent interpretation I bolded above; that they'll have the relationship be abusive on Roscoe's end. He's used as a plot device boogeyman all the time anyway, so I could totally see someone deciding to have him be responsible for Lisa's becoming a criminal (in the sense of him manipulating her against her own judgement, I mean, not in the sense of "he's dead and I must avenge him"). And because most modern comic fans only know Roscoe from Johns' run (in fact, I would bet that that's where the above posted interpretation of their relationship came from), I could easily see someone deciding that it would be a great way to reintroduce their relationship. I really, really hope they don't, though.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm actually kind of surprised that Johns didn't make a retcon like that during his run, because it would fit with how he generally used Roscoe, and would have served as another reason for Len to hate Roscoe. I'm very glad he didn't, though.

#flash comics #flash rogues #the top #captain cold #golden glider #mirror master #weather wizard

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magical-girl-coral · 8 months

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Catwoman stories that DC should write, part two:

*The armless master, Ted Grant and Alfred all fighting over who gets to walk Selina down the isle only breaking off when Selina tells the exciting news of her grandparents coming all the way from Cuba to see her away.

*An issue about a gossip reporter trying to catch the new it girl socialist Selina Kyle in a compromising position except it's always something stupid. He caught her on time sneaking off from a party with Harvey Dent and Bruce Wayne but it's so they argue somewhere quiet about ancient roman history. Another time she ran with famous singer Dinah Lance but it was to order pizza because either of them remembered to eat. The one time he gives up and doesn't bother chasing her, she went to a forgotten bathroom mid gala to dress up as Catwoman.

*Crossover story with Batman where they both find out Killer Croc escaped prison again and together they try to find him before anyone gets hurt. It's revealed in a flashback reveal Selina and Waylon met as young street rats trying to survive who had no one and vowed to watch the other's back since then. Even without using their sob story. Bruce is merciful with Waylon and is maybe the second person who has ever shown him compassion, even giving him a job offer as a chance for a new life. This could have been Selina's big "oh, Oh" moment if it weren't for her massive emotional constipation.

*Forming her own thievery group with the girls who were at her bachelorette party with a Maven cameo as Selina's assistant/the force of nature expert keeping Selina's civilian life together through detailed schedules and iron will.

*Selina visiting Ireland with Maggie to put their father's ashes to rest only to get bungled up in fae shenanigans against their will.

*Selina getting to be a mom without drama. That's it. That's the story. No one dies, lost in time, kidnapped by an evil origination or given up for adoption since DC are fucking allergic to allowing women of color to be decent mothers.

*A whole chapter dedicated to Selina's slow battling of her phobia of water to give courage to other readers who are fighting their own anxieties cause I doubt a young teen can walk off being nearly drowned to death without longtime consequences.

*Selina finding out a family member nearly got killed cause of gang violence and Catwoman tearing Gotham apart limb from limb until the message was sent across. People tend to forget her claws can cut through steel and many remember that lesson the hard way.

*Showcasing every job Selina had off screen while the rest of the cast tried to kill each other over what's good and evil such as: ancient linguistic expert, professional dancer of multiple genres, Hollywood actress, art gallery owner, veterinarian, book author of ancient myths retelling with actual research (she was sick and tired of all the tiktok takes), and a part singer for charity events.

*Having an on again off again team ups with the Riddler. On one hand, he is a somewhat decent friend who's great with gadgets and a ruthless gossip, but the other hand he just does not stop dropping clues of their crimes and is always too lax with their getaway plans and god damn it Eddie, it's like you're trying to get us caught!

*Tragic friendship that could have been romance turned enemies between Pammy and Selina before either of them dawned their costumes. Selina donating a large sum of money she "gathered" over the weeks to the firm Pammy worked at because they were one of the few that didn't test their products on animals. Sweet shy Pammy saw Selina with walk in with confidence and beauty of a goddess and nearly tripped over herself when Selina asked for her opinion on a matter she couldn't even hear them talk about. They became friends afterwards, and Selina would regularly come back for talks and advice about poisons that seem shady but Pammy was too in love fascinated by the subject to question her motives.

*A pre street kid story where it shows Selina having a happy home life with her parents and little sister before it was all taken away from her. If Batman can have a hundred versions of his parents murder, Selina can have variation where her family didn't suck.

*Selina going through a crisis when she hit twenty and decided to take a bisexual gap year to travel the world where she gained Bast's favour in Egypt, accidentally seduced a moon deity in hiding, had a summer romance with Talia in Singapore, gained Shiva's attention by mastering sword dancing in China, put an angry one thousand year old spirit to rest by returning her precious hairpin and gaining more divine favors and returning to Gotham to get hammered on her 21th birthday.

#honestly this is just turning into a list of fanfic prompts im too burnout to write #and yes i know ted and selina had a r*mantic relationship but thinking about it makes me want to hurl so i just veto it #DC #DC Comics #Selina Kyle #BatCat #PoisonCat #CatFam

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cozykali · 1 year

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Jonathan Majors Assault Charge: Facts vs Opinions

There has been so much conflicting information in Jonathan’s Majors’ case that it’s impossible to make any solid conclusions. These are the only facts that we know: Majors was arrested on March 25th, and has been charged with Harassment and Assault, an order of protection has been granted to the women involved, he was released from custody without bail, and a hearing has been scheduled for May 8th. Everything else is speculation and information we have received from external sources:

According to the Police, the 911 call was made around 11 AM inside an apartment in Manhatten. A 30-year-old woman was taken to the hospital with minor injuries to her face and neck. She told police that Majors struck her in the face causing a laceration behind her ear and that he put his hands around her neck causing bruising and redness. Majors was arrested immediately.

TMZ reported through their own sources that the victim was Majors’ girlfriend, and they were on their way home from a bar in a taxi when they got into an argument. Apparently, she confronted him about texting another woman and tried to look at his phone. This allegedly caused him to get angry and grab her hand, slap her, and put her hands around her neck. It was reported that they both spent the night apart and she called 911 the next morning.

Majors’ attorney, Priya Chaudhry, is claiming they have obtained two written statements from the victim recanting her statement to police as well as witness testimony and video footage from inside the vehicle where the incident supposedly happened. They claim that they have sufficient proof that Majors is innocent and expect the charges to be dropped. They also claim the woman was hospitalized due to an ‘emotional crisis’ and that police are required to make an arrest in these situations.

ABC7 reported that Majors was the one who called 911 over concerns regarding his partner and when the police arrived, they noticed the visible marks on the woman which lead to his arrest. When the news of his arrest was made public two people in the entertainment industry posted on Twitter their thoughts on Majors’ character and reputation:

AB Allen, who is apparently a personal assistant to a director that works for Netflix, had posted in February that there is an unnamed actor that is a “vicious, cruel, abusive human being, both professionally and in his personal life”. After the arrest on Saturday, Allen confirmed suspicions that he was talking about Majors. Since then Allen has made his account private and does not want to give any details regarding his claim to avoid exposing anyone who has been hurt.

Tim Nicolai, an actor, had also tweeted that Majors has been a well know ‘sociopath and abuser’ in the Yale and NYC acting community for years. When he was asked why he had not brought it up before the arrest he claimed he needed a victim to come forward first and claimed he knows people who have been personally harmed by Majors, but it is their choice to speak on it. Nicolai has since deleted the tweet and made his account private.

So, this is all the information we have so far and likely all we will have until May 8th when he appears in court. Now, I would like to give my thoughts on this whole situation since the initial shock has worn off. I want to start off by saying I have been a massive fan of Jonathan Majors since Lovecraft Country was released in 2020. I have seen nearly all his films, watched countless interviews, made fan edits on TikTok, written fan fiction about his Marvel character, and more. When this news came out, I was devastated. However, my opinions on this case are completely neutral.

I believe women when they say they have been abused. There are more instances of abuse that go unreported than there are false accusations. However, there are times when allegations should be questioned. It has been speculated that Jonathan Majors’ girlfriend is white. Historically there has been a pattern of white women weaponizing their tears or emotions against people of colour. The ‘damsel in distress narrative is prioritized in our white supremacist culture. Sometimes this can be done unconsciously by white women using their privilege of having their emotions come before another. It can also be used to minimize accountability, deflect blame, or inflict harm. If it is true that he was having relations with other women, or that he was trying to break up with her, then it is possible she could have weaponized her tears out of spite and jealousy. But this does not explain her injuries, and it’s unusual to see self-inflicted strangulation marks.

There is also the case to be made that Jonathan Majors’ encounter with police could have been impacted by the fact that he is a young black man. Would he still have been arrested in this case if he was a white celebrity or would they have waited to press charges until they had proven the victim's claims? On the other hand, the visible injuries on the victim do seem like enough evidence to arrest him on the spot.

I have questions about where and when the alleged assault occurred as well. It was reported that it occurred on the taxi ride home and they both went their separate ways that night. It is not unusual for victims to wait hours or days before coming forward, and the reasons to not come forward would be amplified if your abuser was a rising star in Hollywood. However, the reports have suggested that Majors himself was the one who called emergency services. This raises the question that if he was there with her when the 911 call was placed, and the defence has video from the vehicle that shows he did not harm her en route, how can they prove the assault did not happen later after they had exited the taxi?

Also, they have mentioned that they have written statements from the victim where she has recanted that he assaulted her. We must question the validity of these statements as it is not uncommon for victims to recant their allegations even if they were abused; whether it be out of fear of harm coming to themselves or their loved ones, forgiving their abuser or being blinded by love, bribery or being ‘paid off’, or sympathy for the abuser and not wanted to see them prosecuted. Plus, when the defence, attorney stated that the victim was hospitalized due to an “emotional crisis” it can sound like they are trying to make her look ‘crazy’ to invalidate her initial claims, and again, this does not explain her injuries.

It seems that most people online have already come to their own conclusion on this case. The accusations on Twitter cannot be taken as fact either. Both accounts came from white men who only brought it up after the arrest was made public. While they could hold some fact, no other actual accusations of abuse have come forward by anyone other than the hear-say of the two deleted tweets.

People have also been quick to defend Majors’ innocence and claim that his name has been cleared based solely on the statement written by his lawyer. That is her job, to claim her client is innocent. We cannot use her statement as fact. They claim they have evidence proving his innocence but until that evidence is released, we cannot know if it’s true.

The US Army has already removed an ad campaign that features Majors until we know more about the situation. No information has become available yet on how these allegations will affect Majors’ career with Disney/Marvel as Kang the Conqueror. We know he is supposed to be starting in Loki season 2, set to be released later this year, and the show has already finished filming and is in post-production. Disney has an extremely strict morality clause and actors have been fired from their projects in the past for much less. Even if the allegations prove to be false, Disney may not keep him on. Majors also started in a recent film called Magazine Dreams which was screened earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival. His role in this film has generated Oscar buzz and was recently set for a December theatrical release date. He also recently worked with Michael B Jordan on Creed III, and they had mentioned in multiple interviews that they wanted to continue working together on future Creed projects. Majors and Jordan even presented an award together at the Academy Awards recently.

I will be waiting until at least May 8th to come to my own conclusion on this case. Which is what we all should be doing. We simply do not know enough facts to decide if he is innocent or guilty. I hope they will release all the evidence to the public, including the video footage and statements, as I do not trust the legal system against a young black man, if they were to just give us the verdict without evidence to support it. Either way, I truly hope that whoever is telling the truth in this case, whether it be the victim or Jonathan Majors, gets the justice they deserve. His reputation has been stained forever and the situation is incredibly sad no matter which way you look at it, and we may never know the whole truth.

If anything, this has taught me a personal lesson. Celebrities are real people, with flaws. We can watch every role they have played, every interview and fan interaction, meet them at cons, write about them, and have our own ideas about who they are in our minds. But we only see who they want us to see, it’s an act and the characters they play are not real. Unless we know them in real life, we cannot honestly know them as a person. Even if Majors is completely innocent in this scenario, this has been a huge wake-up call for me not to be affected by famous people in general. Your favourite celeb could commit a heinous crime, or even pass away due to illness or accident. Your life should not be negatively affected by people who don’t even know who you are. Focus on yourself, admire celeries from a distance, but never make simping for a famous person a part of your identity. There is even a medical term named Celebrity Worship Syndrome which can have a number of negative effects on a person’s mental health.

#jonathan majors #kang the conqueror #kang #quantumania #antman quantamania #creed iii #lovecraft country #triggering content #assult mention #legal case #assult charges #facts vs opinions

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chaotic-super · 1 year

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For Her Sake - Chapter 11

Read For Her Sake on AO3 here!

Lena is shocked when her assistant, Jess, announces that there is someone down at the front desk in the lobby asking for a meeting with her and that the receptionist hasn’t just turned someone away when they don’t have an appointment.

“Jess, did they give their name?”

Lena watches as Jess peers down at her tablet from the doorway. “It’s a…Kara Danvers and she supposedly has a child with her.”

A smile graces Lena’s lips. She’s been waiting to be able to see Kara’s little girl again, she’s just so adorable and ever since she fell asleep on her the day the Danvers sisters had her over for dinner and a movie, she’s felt incredibly fortunate that she managed to experience that. The way Lori warmed up to her and felt comfortable enough to lean into her is something she’s scarcely experienced in her life and it’s something she isn’t going to forget any time soon.

“Let them up, please, and make a note downstairs that Kara Danvers is to be let up whenever possible.” Lena wipes the smile off her face when she catches Jess looking at her strangely. It doesn’t last long though because as soon as she has her orders, she disappears out of the room to let the front desk know to let Kara up.

Lena isn’t entirely sure why Kara has decided to drop by but the only thing she’s doing today is signing off on a bunch of projects and other equally boring folders of paperwork she’s been putting off so any chance to have a break and a reasonable excuse to do so is welcomed with open arms.

A few minutes of pretending to work but really just listening for the tell-tale sound of the elevator doors opening go by before she actually hears it and at that point, she caps her overly expensive diamond-tipped pen she got as a gift years ago when settling a massive business deal overseas.

There’s a faint knock at the door.

“Come in,” Lena calls out.

Jess pokes her head around the door, presumably to ask if she’s ready for them to be shown in, but Lori dances around her legs and skips into the room, inquisitive eyes looking around eagerly at the new environment before recognition hits as she sees Lena.

“Lena!” She runs over to her, rounding the desk before her shyness comes back and she ends up standing beside her, her head ducked and her hands held behind her. “Hi.”

“Hello, you.” Lena grins, “It’s lovely to see you again.”

That’s all it takes for Lori to drop a good measure of her shyness and give in to what she wants to do and wrap her little arms around Lena’s legs. The feeling of it makes Lena want to cry but she holds back her emotions and instead lifts Lori up carefully and sets her on her lap for a proper cuddle.

Lori wraps her arms around Lena’s neck, having to stretch up to do so and Lena grins only for her to snap her eyes up when she is startled by the sound of someone letting out an “Aww!” from the other side of the room.

Her eyes land on Kara, whose hand is clutched to her chest like she’s having a physical reaction to the sight of Lori on Lena’s lap, hugging her as tight as she can. “Hey.” Lena greets her.

“Hey, sorry to drop in on you.” Kara makes her way over to her too, standing on the other side of the desk. Lena gestures to the chairs on the other side of the desk and Kara takes the offer, dropping her purse on the floor beside her chair.

“Not at all, it’s lovely to see you both. What can I do for you?”

Kara beams, “Nothing at all.”

Lena’s face scrunches, her confusion taking over. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing at all because I’m here to thank you. I had my interview with Sam yesterday and she’s offered me the job. I know you set it up, as much as Alex denies it. I work for a gossip magazine; I know you invested in her restaurant a couple of years back. I really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It’s nothing.” Lena’s cheeks are fiery red at this point, embarrassed at how easily Kara managed to see right through her. “I just wanted to help.”

“You really have. I wasn’t sure how else to thank you other than saying it so Lori and I made you some cookies. You eat sugar right?” Kara digs through her purse for a Tupperware full to the brim of chocolate chip cookies. “I was going to come alone but someone overheard me telling Alex I was coming and insisted on coming too.”

Lori has now let go of Lena but is still sitting on her lap, leaning back into her while playing with the pen on her desk, capping and uncapping it.

Lena looks down at her fondly, gently taking the pen out of her hands and instead redirecting her to a Rubik’s cube that she keeps in her drawer for when she’s stressed. She doesn’t mind Lori playing with the pen, even if it’s expensive but she can see the apprehension in Kara’s eyes so it’s best if she just gently takes it away.

Kara relaxes more when the pen is away and is actually kind of surprised at how easily and calmly Lena reacted to Lori, the tenderness in her actions and the way she redirected her was near effortless.

“Of course, I eat sugar. I’m not a monster.” Lena smiles, can I try one?”

“They’re all yours.” Kara slides the box across the desk towards her and watches as Lena very carefully takes off the lid before plucking the top one out. She breaks a bit off, a strange way to eat a cookie but Kara’s not about to say anything, and then she pops it into her mouth.

Lori reaches for the box too, trying to get to the cookies she’s mad her mom only let her have one after they made them. Lena looks to Kara questioningly and when she receives a nod in response, she pulls out a second cookie and hands it to Lori, who takes it with the world’s biggest grin and the decision that Lena must be the greatest person on Earth.

With a smug look, Lori bites into her cookie and Kara isn’t one to be left out, especially when cookies are involved so she gets herself one too, joining in the impromptu cookie party.

“So, have you accepted Sam’s offer?” Lena asks when she finishes a bite.

Kara nods happily around her bite, chewing quicker so she can answer her properly. “I accepted this morning and I’m going to put in my two-week notice first thing tomorrow morning. I start the Monday after that so I’ll be jumping right in.”

“Just out of curiosity, what position will you be in? I only asked Sam if she had any open vacancies and had Alex send your résumé over so I’m not as involved in all of this as you think. You must have done well in the interview to have landed the job.” It’s the truth too, she had specifically told Sam to only hire her if she fit the business because the last thing she wants is to send Kara over only for it to be a bad fit and then she’s screwed over both Sam and Kara.

Kara looks incredulous like she doesn’t really believe that she didn’t have as big of an influence on her booking the job. “We’re going to figure out specifics when I start but I’m doing a hybrid to start out. Partially bar work, I think, because I did a little bit of that in college and have experience, but she wants me in the kitchen too. I’m a terrible cook though so we’ll see how that pans out. I think it will just be prep stuff though, which reduces the risk of me ruining people’s food.”

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re either not as bad as you say you are, or you are really good at being interviewed because Sam does not let people into her kitchen lightly. Believe me, she once kicked me out because asked for my steak to be cooked medium-well rather than medium-rare how she served it. She was pissed and told me that I’m never allowed to ask her to cook steak for me again.”

Kara winces. “That’s how you have your steak cooked?”

“No, I just wanted to see her face.” The expression on Lena’s face is wicked, just pure, unadulterated wickedness.

Lori ditches the Rubik’s cube and reaches across the desk for some of Lena’s papers, hoping for something to draw on. She manages to get her hands on one and pulls it towards her before tilting her head up to look at Lena. “Lena, crayon please.”

Kara is about to jump in and see if she can redirect Lori again, now realizing that bringing a four-year-old into an office probably wasn’t the best idea, but Lena handles it well, opening her desk drawer, grabbing out the orange highlighter she keeps in there along with her blank notebook and replaces the important paper in a trick that Kara is certain must be magic because it happens so fast.

Lori doesn’t even complain, just takes the highlighter and starts drawing cute little flower shapes on the page she’s given.

“Thank you,” Kara says, her eyes fixed on her daughter, happily doodling away while sitting on Lena’s lap. “You’re good with her.”

“I’ve had practice. Sam has a daughter, Ruby. She’s my goddaughter, although she’s fifteen now and doesn’t like to be seen out with her godmother much, it apparently ruins her image and makes her look, and I quote, ‘uncool’. “

Kara nods, “Sam and I actually talked about some of our weird pregnancy cravings during the interview, it just sort of came up because one of the questions was about our favourite foods and I had to admit that I still eat Doritos and cream cheese as a snack at least twice a week. I sort of figured she had a child from that but we didn’t go into detail.”

Lena shrugs, peeking over Lori’s shoulder to look at her drawings with a soft expression sitting on her face. “Once you start working there, it’s all you’ll ever hear about, that woman lives for her daughter.”

“I can relate. From the conversation we had, I have a feeling that we’re going to get along just fine.”

“I’m glad she’s decided to hire you. I know the situation surrounding why you’re changing jobs sucks but at least you’ll be working somewhere you’ll be respected by your boss.” Lena tries to point out the positives, the fingers of the hand resting against Lori’s hip tapping casually.

“That’s true, I guess I just never could have foreseen everything that happened this last year happening. Thanks to a certain someone though, things are looking up. It does help that while my pay will be slightly lower, I’ll actually get benefits now, including health insurance. Of course, someone’s very generous salary from a very nice person will be the most helpful thing of all though. I still can’t believe you’re paying her that much.” Kara can’t help but overshare. Talking to Lena feels like talking to someone she’s known for years, an old friend back in town for a catch-up.

Lena tries so hard to stop herself from smiling that her lips turn down but it doesn’t take away from the happy look on her face at all, just enhances it. “Well, your sister does excellent work and she’s already proven to be a very good employee. I can’t say any more than that but I will say that she’s doing a great job.”

Kara’s face lights up with pride. “She’s an overachiever so I’m not surprised and I don’t know if you know but she started her first class a few days ago and she’s already started burying her face in textbooks every night because she finds it all so fascinating. I don’t really know what she’s talking about when she rambles at me but from what I gather, she touched on some of the subjects in her original degree but now she’s thrilled to get the chance to dive deeper into them. Add a sprinkle of words I couldn’t possibly pronounce and the look of a kid on Christmas and that’s the Alex I’m dealing with at the minute. It’s nice to see her so happy.”

“I didn’t realize the classes we enrolled her in mean so much to her. They are merely so she’s better suited for further roles should she want to climb the ladder at some point in the future. I have a feeling she’s going to take full advantage of the L-Corp employee study program and take lots of classes over her time with the company then.”

Lori looks up from the notebook. “Aunt Alex is boring; she’s always reading and didn’t watch Encanto with me last light.” Her words are slightly lisped but there’s an annoyance in her tone that makes Lena have to stifle a giggle.

“Oh, is that so? Well, I haven’t seen that one. Maybe I should have you, your mom and Aunt Alex over for dinner and to watch that movie sometime, huh?”

“Really?” Lori shifts on her lap until she’s on her knees, her arms wrapping around Lena’s neck again. “Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Once she’s finished giving her excited cuddles, she turns back around to go back to her doodling but pauses to look Kara directly in the eye. “Lena’s my favourite.”

“Thanks, Lori.” Kara chuckles, rolling her eyes. “I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.” Lori either ignores the sarcasm or doesn’t pick up on it but since she’s a kid, it’s probably the latter.

Kara looks over to Lena. “Are you sure?”

Lena nods firmly. “I’m absolutely certain, I don’t get to host people very often and if I do, it’s usually just Sam and her daughter, in which case, my cooking is usually criticized so it will be nice to have some non-culinary experts to come and eat my food.”

“That’s really nice of you, Lena. We’d love to come over. What shall we bring?”

“Absolutely nothing. Just yourselves, but since I can tell you’re probably going to bring something anyway, maybe dessert of some kind? Not alcohol.” Lena slips the last part in quietly. She’s been doing well with not drinking. It’s been difficult and it’s still difficult. The number of times she gets back to her place at night after work and her feet have automatically taken her over to the cupboard where she keeps her fancy scotch is insane. She also can’t help the sting of disappointment every time she gets there and realizes that there isn’t any because tipped it all down the sink the day after her chat with Kara about wanting to stop drinking.

Kara catches it, and the casual way Lena added it to the end of her sentence to not alert Lori of anything amiss, something she probably wouldn’t have caught onto anyway because she’s so focused on drawing, now on her second page and having managed to grab a pen rather than a highlighter, but thankfully, it’s not Lena’s expensive one, just an ordinary ball-point one she keeps around as a spare.

Kara’s not entirely sure whether or not she should make a point to agree to the request so she decides to instead focus mostly on the first half of the sentence. “Dessert only, got it. Oh, my adoptive mom, Eliza, actually has a great recipe for chocolate pecan pie, it’s the only thing I’ve ever successfully managed to make, I’ll see if I can whip one up.”

“That sounds lovely,” Lena wasn’t aware of the massive amount of tension sitting heavy on her shoulders until Kara so carefully agreed to skip the alcohol. “Shall we say, maybe, next Saturday?”

“Sounds good, what time do you want us?”

“What time do you guys normally eat?”

“Usually around six so we can get that little menace you’re holding into bed at a reasonable time but we can show up whenever.”

“Six is perfect and don’t listen to her, Lori, I know you’re not a menace.” Lena playfully covers Lori’s ears with her hands before tickling her sides until she squeals with laughter and has both Lena and Kara laughing along with her. “See, there’s no menace in her,” Lena says to Kara after she’s stopped tickling the little one.

Kara squints her eyes, smile still firmly in place as she leans over the desk. “Wait, I think I see…” She reaches over and tickles Lori some more, “There! There’s some hidden there.”

It sends Lori into another fit of giggles and after a moment she says something that makes Kara dread the teenage years they’re ever creeping towards, a long, drawn-out, “Mom!” coming out of her mouth in an annoyed tone.

“Oh my goodness, that was some attitude if I’ve ever seen it.” Kara chuckles, leaning back down in her seat.

“I think we might have just tickled her into early puberty.” Lena giggles. “I think the only thing that’s going to fix this is another cookie, don’t you, Lori?”

Lori doesn’t really know what Lena’s talking about and she’s not asking any questions either because she’s not about to miss out on her opportunity to get another cookie, seeing the opportunity and not being willing to miss out on it.

Kara shakes her head as Lori reaches out with grabby hands towards the Tupperware that holds the cookies, waiting impatiently for Lena to bring them within her reach. Lena takes the lid off and slides it closer to Lori, who then takes a good few seconds determining which one is the biggest and then takes that one for herself.

Lena then offers Kara another one, which she also takes eagerly, like mother like daughter after all. Lena doesn’t take one for herself, with a quick explanation when Kara raises an eyebrow at her snapping the lid back on without taking a cookie for herself. “I had lunch not too long before you guys came by. I’m going to enjoy the rest of these tonight, maybe with some Netflix and some nice tea.”

“Sounds lovely. I have a feeling that might be what I’ll be doing too, except I’ve got the first batch of cookies which are…crunchier, than those ones.” Kara sends her a lopsided smile that Lena wishes weren’t so endearing because it makes her want to invite her over to share the cookies with her and of course, bring over her little clone, the one that has apparently claimed her as her favourite person and given her the task of being her chair.

“So, you burnt the first batch?”

Kara hums, tilting her head while trying to find a way to deny the accusation. “Well, I wouldn’t say burnt, just overcooked, slightly.”

“Slightly?” Lena smirks.

“A lot,” Kara admits with a sigh.

Lena is about to tease her a little more but then the intercom rings with Jess calling her so Lena answers knowing that she wouldn’t be interrupting unless it’s important. “Yes, Jess?”

“You’ve got a meeting request just come through for an hour from now, I’m sending it over to you to review now.”

Lena watches as the request is forwarded to her laptop and she takes one look at the name and accepts it before any prying eyes can see it. She looks over to see Kara looking at her questioningly. “Emergency?”

“Unfortunately. I have to take this meeting. I was hoping to avoid them today but I guess it’s just not to be.”

“We’ll leave you to it then, we’ve already taken up enough of your time.” Kara stands up, a polite smile adorning her face.

Lena carefully shifts Lori onto her feet and stands herself. “Not at all, it’s been a very pleasant visit and I enjoyed seeing a certain someone very much.” She taps Lori on the top of her head, getting a massive grin in return before Lori captures her legs in a hug.

Kara rounds the desk to grab Lori once she separates from Lena and scoops her up, her bag now perched on her shoulder so she doesn’t forget it. “See you next Saturday?”

“Definitely. I look forward to it.” Lena internally does a little happy dance when Kara pulls her into a side hug, Lori taking the opportunity to join in for another hug. “She’s definitely your daughter, she’s a hugger if there ever was one.”

“If there’s one thing a Danvers can do, it’s give a good hug.” Kara laughs, backing away. “Say bye, Lori.”

“Bye, Lena!”

“Bye, Lori.” Lena returns, waving the pair off before sitting back down at her desk. As she does, her eyes find the notebook Lori was drawing in and she panics, about to run after the pair to give her the drawings but then she sees what’s on the page.

It’s a drawing of her. Black hair up in a ponytail, wearing a green shirt, the same colour as the one she’s wearing today, and next to her is a little brunette with blue eyes. Lori. At the bottom of the page sits a few words that stop her from rushing up. ‘To Lena, from Lori.” Beneath the words sits a heart and several kisses.

There’s no doubt that this drawing and the one full of little flowers are going to be stuck to her fridge soon enough. She needs to order some magnets. In fact, she’s going to do that right now so she doesn’t forget.

She opens up her laptop and is greeted with the sight of the confirmation for the meeting. She opens a new tab and orders the magnets before going back to the confirmation page. It’s about time she has the chance to get a sit-down conversation with Alex.

It’s been over a week since Alex asked her for the initial meeting to discuss what she’s found at work in the other branch of L-Corp and she’s been pushing back the meeting, new information coming to light at a pace that means that Alex has been better off just putting off the meeting until she can lay it all out to her properly. It seems as though today is the day.

Lena calls through to Jess with the instruction to send Alex right on in when she arrives and then tries to get back to work but with the instruction of having Alex sent up, she can’t shake the confusion of why Kara wasn’t turned away. A confusion that is washed away when she realizes that Kara was turned away before when she actually had a meeting and it was probably the same receptionist so they didn’t dare turn her away. The thought brings a smug smile to her face.

With the smile still on her face, she carefully rips out the pages with the drawings on them from the notebook and walks them over to where she’s got her purse hung up with her coat on a stand across the room and slips them into her purse, purposely pressing them against the side so they don’t get too creased.

She leaves the cookies on her desk. Depending on what Alex is going to tell her, she might be in for a long day and if that happens, those cookies are going to be her dinner. They taste pretty good and while Kara has admitted to burning the first batch, they are good and she’s getting the feeling that Kara is grossly underestimating her abilities in the kitchen, something Sam must have picked up on too because she wouldn’t have hired her to be in the kitchen otherwise.

With Kara and Lori’s visit in the forefront of her mind, Lena pushes herself back into the paperwork she put aside, rushing through it because Alex’s information could very well derail her plan of ending the week with just slow, steady signatures so she’s got to try and get it done before she gets here.

She’s almost two-thirds of the way through it when there’s a knock at the door, fifteen minutes before Alex is set to arrive, yet it is Alex that pokes her head around the door.

“Hey, I’m early, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lena smiles, although disappointed she didn’t manage to get all of the paperwork finished. She closes the files and sets them into a pile while nodding her head towards the seat opposite her desk, the one Kara was sitting in not too long ago.

Alex sits down and winces as she does so, her weight flopping into the chair in a way that makes Lena’s face scrunch in concern. Alex catches the look and waves her off. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I’m just a little bit stiff today because I fell asleep sitting up last night because I was reading.”

“I’ve heard from Kara that you’re enjoying your classes, were you reading your textbook that is supposedly filled with words she doesn’t understand?”

Alex snorts. “That’s the one. The class is super interesting. Thanks for that by the way. “

“It’s a program available for all employees, don’t thank me. That wasn’t just me being nice.”

“I think a woman that lets any employee of hers that wants to take classes do so, on the company’s dime, is a very nice person,” Alex argues. “I am a little concerned about the fact that my sister apparently can’t keep her mouth shut about anything though.

Lena shrugs. “I have one of those faces, she can’t help it. People just like to tell me things.”

“I don’t think so, I’d say she’s just a blabbermouth.”

“Maybe, either way, it was a very nice visit and I certainly loved seeing Lori, she’s a real character.”

Alex softens at the mention of her niece. “She is. That little girl has everyone she meets wrapped around her little finger.”

Lena can’t deny it because within just a couple of meetings, she’s enamoured by the little girl and she already has her heart. “That is certainly true. She was complaining you didn’t watch a movie with her and before I knew it, I made plans for you all to come over next Saturday for dinner and to watch that movie. It’s like a spell.”

“I’ll put it in my diary.” Alex snickers. “I’ll have to make sure to watch more movies with her, I can’t have her badmouthing me all over town.”

“Certainly not.” Lena smiles for a second before she schools her features somewhat. “So, onto the business stuff. What have you found out.”

Alex goes from casual to professional in an instant, something Lena thought she was good at doing before she witnessed it. “It’s not good, I warn you.”

Lena huffs out a breath. “I had a feeling it would be bad. Just hit me with it.”

“All of the research going on in there is being duplicated and sold off to opposing companies and to more…nefarious people, from what I can gather.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s not all. Materials, chemicals and pretty much anything else they can get their hands on, are being sold off and written off in the books as breakages. I’d say a solid eighty to ninety percent of the staff there are in on it and are profiting off of it although there are about a dozen people there that are actively doing most of the work, the others are pretty much being paid for their silence and for changing their reports when necessary. The ones that are loyal to the company enough to not participate are too scared to speak up and are actively ostracized in the company. I’ve already been approached about joining their little ring. I’m going to go along with it to see how much more I can find out.”

Whatever Lena was expecting, that’s so much worse. The people in that branch have a lot of very sensitive information and apparently, any company with their wallet open can get access. This is really bad.

Without a word, she walks over to her drinks cart and for a moment, wishes she hadn’t gotten Jess to replace all of the alcohol with other refreshments. She grabs the pitcher of water and fills a glass, then a second.

She hands one to Alex, even though she didn’t ask for one, and downs her glass in one, hoping that it would rid her of her dry throat. It doesn’t.

“Are they the ones that have been blocking the camera feeds in certain areas?”

Alex shrugs. “I’m not sure but I think they have a few people on the security team that are in on it, which would make sense as to how they are able to take the things out of the building so easily.”

“Right, ok. Keep looking into it, but if at any time, it gets too dangerous, I want you out of there. Alright? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Alex nods. “You don’t pay me as much as you do because it’s a cushy office job, you pay me like that because it’s dangerous. I know what I’m doing, just trust the process.”

Lena fixes her gaze on her desk while slowly shaking her head, not totally believing what she’s hearing. “Would it be obvious that I know what’s going on if I add a bunch more security to all of the company data?”

“I don’t think so, not if you justify it as a potential security breach from another location. I think it’s pretty much just people from that branch, they haven’t made it out to any other branches so it’s at least all in one location, which will make it easier to deal with.”

“I don’t think any of this will be easy to deal with.”

“Me neither, but there’s steps we can take to start catching them out. I have already started discreetly taking copies of the paperwork that shows where they have been messing with the books. We need all of the cameras in the building to be up and running. Maybe you could drop by on an impromptu branch review and purposely notice that they are down and order a maintenance request right away. They won’t be able to argue with you and it would be too obvious for them to break them as soon as it’s done.”

Lena looks incredulous. “They’d come up with some excuse for them to suddenly be broken.”

A devilish look crosses Alex’s face. “They would, but they wouldn’t know about the hidden cameras you’d have installed while the other cameras are being fixed.”

Lena’s face brightens. “Alex Danvers, you’re quite the plotter.”

“We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, let’s go over some logistics and see what we can get implemented.” Lena opens up the notepad Lori was drawing in not too long ago and sets on writing down the few ideas they have come up with so far.

Lena sits in her car on the way home. She gave up on the long drives within a week of starting them but still takes the long way home each night. Tonight though, she wants nothing more than to have a drink to wash away the stress that has come with Alex’s report. That entire branch is pretty much corrupt and it’s going to be a massive job fixing that.

Not only do they have to deal with the employees, but also involve the authorities when they have the information to do so because of the illegal sales to nefarious groups and Lena really doesn’t want to deal with it all but knows she has to, and she has to do it fast to prevent the mass loss of company data.

She can’t deal with this right now. She needs a drink. She doesn’t have any alcohol in her apartment now though., that’s a problem.

Somehow, just driving, she turns off the road that will lead her to her place and ends up on her way to somewhere she knows she can get a drink and maybe an ear to listen to her complain. Something she’s desperate to do.

Pulling up into the parking lot, she walks steadily to the doors of the restaurant and wanders in just to be greeted right away by an overly smiley staff member. “Ms Luthor, how are you today?”

“I’m well, is Sam here?” Lena can’t manage a smile so neutral it is. She learned that a long time ago, if you can’t muster up the energy to be happy, the next best thing is to be emotionless, any kind of malice or stress void of her stress and she has plausible deniability.

“She is, we don’t have any tables available but there’s space at the bar, take a seat and I’ll go and see if she can spare a moment.”

“Thank you,” she peers at the young man’s name tag, “Toby.”

He beams at her, not at all put off by her lack of returning smile, and then heads off to the kitchen after showing her to the bar.

She ends up choosing a seat right at the end where she’s as far away from everyone else as possible and Sam is rushing out of the kitchen before she’s even had a chance to put her purse down. In the rush of Sam appearing at her side, she doesn’t put it down, just keeps it on her lap.

“Hey, you. You should have called ahead; I would have got you a table.” Sam pulls her into a hug, one that is well-needed and Lena leans into it heavily. “Bad day, huh?”

“Awful.” Lena’s phone buzzes in her purse and she unzips it, ready to check it. She’s already started making plans for more security to be added to a lot of the systems they use so it’s more than likely that it’s something to do with work. If she wasn’t tense before, she is as she picks her phone up but Sam snatches it away from her and tosses it back into her purse and lazily zips it back up, only achieving on pulling the zipper halfway closed.

Once she’s done that, Sam slips behind the bar and pours Lena a glass of wine, a large one, and pushes it to her. “Here, you look like you need it.”

Lena wraps her hand around it, half wanting to down the whole thing and half wanting to prove to herself that she doesn’t need it and that she can go a little longer without drinking. She’s gone a good while since drinking now, the longest she’s gone since before she started college and it would be a shame to ruin it.

Screw it, she needs it tonight.

She sighs and drops her head down in resignation. Through the half-unzipped bag, she sees something. Something that changes her mind, just enough that she lets go of the glass. The pictures. All she can see is two words and a little heart, ‘from Lori’.

Just a few hours ago she agreed to have that little girl in her home. She can’t have that little girl around her if she can’t resist drinking. Even if she only sees her every now and again, she can’t let herself give into self-destructive behaviours when she’s a part of a child’s life, however small that part is.

Lena pushes the glass back across the bar. “Can I have something non-alcoholic? I’m trying to cut back.”

“You sure?” Sam looks shocked. “That’s not like you.”

“No, but it should be. I’ve heard you bragging about your cocktail skills before, any good at mocktails though?”

“I’m the best. Good for you though, Lena. I’m happy for you.”

Lena shoos her away, not liking the attention being brought to her choice. “Thanks. Now get to making me a drink, then I can dump my problems on you.”

Sam does as she’s told and when she gets back, she doesn’t hand the drink over, just rounds the bar and then beckons Lena to follow her. “Let’s head up to the office, it’s a much better place for dumping problems on people.”

“Good, you better be ready though.”

“I’m more than ready, I already have the kitchen covered for at least an hour because I accidentally overscheduled today so you have me all to yourself.”

“Good. I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Read the next 3 chapters early on Patreon here!

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