#he thought it would deflect attacks

[owl-house-facts-i-just-made-up]

OWL HOUSE FACT #62: Gus once speculated that the griddy was some sort of defense movement, only to be corrected by a human authority (Luz).

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinks about time lord biting again with eleven & clara. thinking about eleven nipping victorian!clara because he got overexcited, regretting it, and then trying to hold onto the fact that he did it and nothing bad happened yet and maybe she can come with him- oops. eleven trying so hard for so long to keep it to himself when he finds clara again. lets her in but never lets her close enough. but thinking about it, always.

and most of all, imagining eleven finally breaking, and when clara lets him bite her, it’s all that fresh loss and need to keep her safe and burgeoning trust and restraint falling away at once and- he bites too hard. apologizing to clara as he patches her up. it leaves a scar. and scars don’t regenerate. her first doctor, dug into her skin even after he’s gone. permanent.

…and now i’m thinking about twelve tentatively placing his teeth against that scar, pulling away, and giving clara a brief nip somewhere else, somewhere safer. (and clara, annoyed, dragging him in so that she can bite him back hard. even more annoyed when he won’t scar the way she wants him to, the way she did for him, the way he’d forever have to keep and remember.)

[writers-potion]

Writing Female Fighters

The Heroine Must. Fight.

Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.

Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.

Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.

Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty

The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.

A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.

On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.

She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.

A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.

In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.

In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.

Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.

More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness

In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.

Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.

Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.

A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"

A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."

Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.

She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.

When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.

Plausible Skills and Backstory

In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.

For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.

It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.

It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.

Inexperienced Female Fighters

A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:

Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.

Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.

Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)

Pull hair

Scratch.

In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.

Plausible Weapons and Clothing

All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).

Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.

When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.

For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.

For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.

A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.

She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.

She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.

Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[ann1eee]

Stay another minute

You were wounded.

The battle between Sukuna seemed to drag on, no one had any idea when the King of Curses would fall, if he would at all.

No matter that, he didn’t care right now.

You were wounded, and he couldn’t get to you.

-

Your cursed technique allowed you to see bits into the future, making you a formidable opponent. Along with that, you possessed a technique that allowed amplification of attacks, giving you special grade status.

With all hands on deck, you and Gojo took on Sukuna together.

Blood was trickling down your eyes, a sign that you were exhausting your energy rapidly. You didn’t care about that right now as you saw Sukuna’s world slash cut Gojo clean in half.

Your eyes widened. The attack would come any minute now.

Instinctively, you pushed him out of the vicinity, expecting to dodge the slash completely.

You were wrong. Although you had deflected the attack enough for it not to hit Gojo, and not cut you in half in his place, it still hit.

You dropped to your knees as you felt the searing pain of your flesh splitting along your neck, between your breasts, your stomach, and finally down to your hip.

He didn’t get hit. He didn’t die. He didn’t get hurt.

You don’t know if your injury is fatal, and you don’t care. You cant live in a world without Gojo, not because he’s the strongest but because he’s Gojo. You love him, and you’d do anything for him.

Putting your life on the line to save his wasn’t even a second thought.

You don’t remember when you blacked out, and when you reached Shoko’s operating table.

When you finally woke up, you were at JJT, in one of the beds at Shoko’s clinic.

You swallowed thickly. How long had it been? Was everyone okay? Did we win?

Was Gojo okay?

You ripped out the tubes connecting your arm to a drip, and used all your strength to stumble out of bed and towards anyone who could answer you.

Your expression softened with relief as you bumped into him, and his contorted to one of concern.

“What the hell did you do to your arm?!”

You blinked in surprise as you saw blood gushing out of your flesh where the tubes were once attached.

You literally could not care less.

You slammed your body onto Gojo’s, pulling him into the tightest hug you’d ever given anyone. Your body stung so bad, but you couldn’t care less.

He remained steady, strong arms around you, noticing your wince, as he lead you back to your bed.

“Please don’t rip things out of your arm, y/n!.”

“Did we win?” You ignored his advice.

“Of course we won. Yuji and Nobara saved Megumi.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. The all out battle was finally over, and your students were safe.

“Y/n.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pay attention to what he had to say.

“Please don’t ever jump in and risk your life like that for me, ever. Do you know how my heart sank when I saw you fall like that? I couldn’t even come save you because of that rat we were fighting. I felt so hopeless, waiting for someone, anyone to come and help you. I didn’t know if you were alive.. I..” He choked.

You felt horrible. You couldn’t imagine if the situation was reversed.

You pulled him into a tight hug, and kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry my love. I won’t do that to you again.”

He smiled and hugged you back, careful not to open your wound.

“Let’s go home, y/n. Let’s take our well deserved break. I wanna take you to all the places I haven’t been able to, I wanna see you smile again and again. I want you to be mine forever, y/n, and even that won’t be enough time to show you how much love I have for you.”

You could cry. You’ve never heard sweeter words. You want to stay with him, have a normal life, be a normal couple. You know that isn’t possible due to your shared profession, but it sure as hell will become a lot lighter after the defeat of the King. Maybe, you could have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You could have Gojo Satoru, as your husband, spending your days and nights in his arms, your little family filling your home with warmth and giggles day after day.

You’d like that. And this was your new start.

[creganslover]

Woman Like You

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem! Warrior! Reader

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Skilled as a warrior like your husband, you both made the dangerous pair... the latest battle proves just how much you mean to him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warning/s: canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood and death, near character death, cregan being whipped for his woman

Note: loved making this omg

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

It had been a harrowing battle, not knowing left from right, up from down as bodies rallied against one another, the clash and clinging of swords ringing in your ears, horses whinnying as their rider had been dismounted only to be slain. 

The amount of bodies falling over with no longer a life to them, and there you also stood fighting, a female warrior, married to Cregan Stark, the two of you making the dangerous pair through your cunning skills and Cregan’s exposure to battle.

Now both of you were fighting under the Queen Rhaenyra’s banners, honouring the oath Rickon Stark, Cregan’s late father had made under Viserys’ proclamation for Rhaenyra as his heir. 

Before the battle had started, you were in your shared tent with Cregan, as the troops were began to be rounded up to march, a thousand of his greybeards and your own army of blackwings, the two of you preparing each other in their armour, the action done in silence as you both strapped your gears on. 

It was Cregan’s hand grabbing your wrist that made you halt your movements, your eyes finally meeting his. Both of you had trusted each other out and in the field, though both of you knew every battle forward had counted, and that you would treat it as the last. 

“Promise you will return to me.” Cregan’s husky voice spoke in a whisper, staring you down with a tender gaze, blue flecked with hazel eyes searching yours, grip momentarily tightening on your wrist to travel down to squeeze your hand. As done countless times, you reply, “Always.” Never failing to give him a smile, making him mirror it with a chuckle of relief at your reassurance. 

Until you had gotten separated from your husband in the heat of the battle, you two had held out well even when separated yet it felt like the enemies had just kept on coming, banging the end of your shield at your attacker’s face, sending them lunging back as you thrusted your sword in their stomach, cutting clean through before you had pulled it off, flecks of blood spraying as the man hurled in pain, dropping to the ground.

You had not known how long the battle had raged for, all that you knew was your muscles had begun to strain, dodging and putting on the offence as you could, dirt and blood scattered everywhere. 

Successfully putting down another opponent, another came rushing to you, sword slicing part of your arm, making you cry out as they had also managed to land a hard blow to your side, that would surely be a nasty bruise. 

Still, you were not as easily felled as they thought, managing to regain back your senses, adrenaline pumping within your veins as your grip on your sword had tightened, letting out a yell as you swung and advanced, hitting left to right, sword slicing efficiently at the man’s side as you threw your broken shield away, holding your sword, Ashbringer, in both hands before thrusting it upon the man’s neck, blood running down the steel of your sword before pulling it out. 

That’s when a series of arrows had been launched into the sky, not knowing which was which as you tried to deflect some by grabbing your shield yet again, though an arrow had already dug itself onto the back of your shoulder, making you groan, using your strength to cover yourself with your shield as the arrows had landed. 

When the arrows had stopped, your mind had fogged, vividly you saw Cregan’s face in your mind as the words he had uttered to you hours before rang. 

Return to me 

・・・・・

Cregan had litters of bodies lay around him as he became the opposing side’s target, knowing his worth and they had intended to cut him off. His broad form swung his sword Ice, not opting for a shield as it only hindered his movements. 

His men yelled around him, his graybeards killing tens of the opponents as they had only managed to fell a few of Cregan’s men. They were winning, they had the upper hand. Cregan only needed to push a little further, and all of this would cease. 

“The Lady!” 

“Keep Fighting!”

“Arrows inbound!”

Cregan felt his blood suddenly run hot, head snapping around him as the shouts grew in intensity, until his eyes spot a distant blur. You as he looked to the sky to find rains of arrows, making Cregan react and haul a body from the ground, using it as his shield as bouts of arrows pierced through its body, his eyes wide and alert and searching for you. 

He was able to see you defending yourself, staggering, an arrow on the back of your shoulder, the pained look on your face.

Cregan saw red. 

The rumbling in his chest grew to a roar as he screamed, throwing the arrow-clad body to the ground before he shouted. “You want me? Come get me!” 

Enemies turned their heads towards him as Cregan swung Ice at the oncoming assailants, ignoring the burning in his whole body as he and his sword had moved as once, determined to get to you, his wife. He was covered in dirt and blood that wasn’t his, except for the minor cuts on his face, and the bruises he had felt forming onto his body. 

Alas his enemies fell one by one as his men fought valiantly, Cregan making his way to you as he managed to grab you in time before you fell, careful to handle the arrow still peeking from behind your shoulder. 

The battle had begun to die down, Cregan still holding you in his arms as he looked at you, his heart never wavered in battle nor showed vulnerability before, now it did as he shook you lightly, inspecting you. “(Y/N),” he repeated before his men had spotted the scene, immediately calling for aid. 

“Stay with me, as you promised.” Cregan breathed. 

・・・・・

Darkness. That’s all you could see, with your body feeling light as a feather. 

It felt like you were floating on some void, where it held nothing but peace. You tried reaching out, but a flicker of orange lit in the distance, a smooth glow, followed by the smell of the forest trees, like a campfire. 

You watched as the orange glow began to scatter, spreading the dark void with its own colour, and then you sensed some sort of pull, until it had become stronger. 

Your eyes opened. Blurry at first, blinking a few more moments as everything slowly began to sink in, body feeling numb as you tried to shift on the cot. Looking around your surroundings, you were in your tent, back at camp perhaps? 

A woman stood by the table, preparing her herbs, a healer, you recognized. It was your healer Taisa, and when she had turned around, her eyes widened as she placed the bowl hurriedly back down. “My lady!” She said in surprise, knowing she had been commanded by Lord Stark himself to alert him if his wife had awoken at once. 

Taisa was already running out the tent before you could utter a single word, or yet you were unable to from your body still processing what it had went through.

Your shoulder was bandaged that wrapped around your torso peeking from your loose tunics, along with your left arm that had blood starting to soak through as you moved, making you groan as you assessed yourself. 

Cregan had been manning the map room, along with the other lords and their army in ally, pacing around and spewing all kinds of forms of defenses and offenses, it had been hours since the battle had ceased, taking in few left live opponents as prisoners. 

Cregan was pacing until the tent flap shifted, revealing Taisa, Cregan immediately halting, she had not even uttered a single sound out her mouth. 

You were awake.

“My lords,” Cregan only said as he rounded the table, ducking out the tent as he forced himself to navigate his way to the tent you were in. His heart pounding near his ears as a few steps more he’d be inside, pushing through the flaps, and there you did lay, eyes open, face harbouring an expression of fatigue. 

Cregan wasted no time gliding towards you, taking you in and slowly grabbing your right uninjured hand as he knelt in front of the cot, gaze scanning you all over. “Wife.” His voice faltered. 

“Husband.” You managed to croak out, moving to sit up which Cregan refused to let you but you won in the end, now he was knelt in front of you as you sat. His huge rough hands, rid of their gloves now, enveloped yours, thumb stroking circles upon the back of your hands. 

You lift your right hand, coming to cradle his face, stroking the slight flush on the apple of his cheeks as he let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes, brows knitting as he leaned into your touch, showing his utter devotion to you and you only, making you smile.

“I thought I had lost you.” He voiced, eyes still closed, making you frown. “Look at me, Cregan.” You spoke, slowly regaining your voice back as Cregan’s eyes flickered open, staring into you. 

“You will not lose me, not now, not ever.” You began. “I’d wager it would take more to kill me.” You smirked, finding a way to still lighten a situation upon the brink of what could have been. 

The end of Cregan’s lip tugged upwards in amusement, his features softening as he chuckled, nodding along and finally letting himself relax with the fact that you were okay, you were going to live. He turned his head where your palm cradled his face, pressing his lips upon your palm before looking at you. 

“Aye, you are right. It would take more for a woman like you.”

[its-avalon-08]

could you do a schumacher!daughter reader fic pretty please😇 somethin g soft and sweet

anon you read my mind <3

little schumi (ms7!daughter)

(p.s. i showed by father this gif and he has tears in his eyes, side note: my dad loves michael schumacher)

The familiar scent of burnt rubber and ozone hung heavy in the air as Y/N Schumacher navigated the bustling Formula One paddock. Unlike her brother Mick, who was gearing up for qualifying, Y/N never felt the pull of the racetrack. Instead, she gravitated towards the human stories that unfolded around it.

A gruff but gentle hand landed on her shoulder. "There you are, little Schumi," boomed a voice that could only belong to Kimi Raikkonen. Y/N grinned, returning the signature Kimi side-eye. "Kimi! Did you see Valtteri's new helmet design? It's outrageous!"

Kimi snorted. "Looks like a flock of angry parrots attacked it." They shared a laugh, their easy camaraderie a testament to the years Y/N had spent soaking up the paddock atmosphere. Every driver, engineer, and mechanic knew her, a familiar smile in a world of high-octane adrenaline.

Fernando Alonso, a close friend of her father's, spotted them and sauntered over. "How's my favorite Schumi doing today?" he asked, ruffling her hair. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't you have a qualifying session to win, Fernando?"

"Practice makes perfect, but spending time with you is always a priority, pequena," he winked. Y/N knew the playful banter was a way to deflect from the unspoken. Her father's condition was a shadow that loomed over the entire F1 family.

Just then, a young reporter, all bright eyes and eager questions, approached Y/N. "Ms. Schumacher, a few words for Sky Sports? Can you share your thoughts on your father's health?"

Y/N's smile faltered. Everyone knew this was a touchy subject. Sebastian Vettel, who was just passing by, overheard and stepped in. "Let's leave Y/N out of this, shall we?" he said, his voice firm but kind. "She doesn't owe you a public statement."

The reporter looked flustered. "But sir, it's a question everyone wants answered." Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And everyone will have to understand that some things are private, especially when it comes to family." He offered Y/N a reassuring smile. "Come on, Y/N, let's grab some coffee before the chaos starts."

Grateful, Y/N linked arms with Sebastian. The paddock might be a competitive arena, but the drivers, the ones who understood pressure and risk, formed their own kind of family. They understood her silence, her need for normalcy in a world obsessed with speed.

As they walked, Y/N overheard snippets of conversations. "Poor Y/N," someone murmured. "She must be going through hell." Another voice added, "Leave her alone, haven't they been through enough?" Y/N offered a small, sad smile. It hurt, but it also warmed her heart. Her father, with his quiet strength and unwavering determination, had built a legacy that transcended wins and podium finishes. He had inspired loyalty, respect, and a fierce protectiveness that extended to his daughter, even in this fast-paced, unforgiving world.

Reaching the small coffee shop tucked away in the paddock, Y/N settled into a booth with Sebastian. "Thanks, Seb," she said, her voice soft.

Sebastian squeezed her shoulder. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, your dad would be proud of you. The way you handle yourself, your kindness… it's something special."

Y/N smiled, tears pricking her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't be on the racetrack, but here, in the heart of the paddock, amongst the roar of engines and the smell of racing fuel, she felt a part of her father's legacy.

time skip

The post-race debrief was abuzz with post-adrenaline chatter. Y/N, perched on the edge of Lando Norris' chair, listened with a half-ear as he recounted his epic battle with Daniel Ricciardo on the final lap. They may be from different teams, but their young love story was a paddock favorite.

"…and then I went for the undercut, and bam! Second place!" Lando finished, a triumphant grin splitting his face. Y/N leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Amazing job, my champion," she whispered, earning a playful swat on the arm.

Suddenly, Charles Leclerc burst through the door, his phone held aloft. "Did you guys see this?!" he exclaimed, brandishing a news article. Max Verstappen, who was sprawled on the couch next to Lewis Hamilton, snatched the phone. "What is it, Charles?"

Max's eyes narrowed as he scrolled through the article. "Seriously?" he growled, throwing the phone onto the coffee table. Y/N's heart lurched. It couldn't be good.

Lewis picked it up and read aloud, his voice heavy with disapproval. "'Mick Schumacher: A shadow of his father's talent?' This is ridiculous!"

Y/N's blood boiled. How dare they criticize her brother, especially so harshly? She felt tears prickling her eyes, her fists clenching. Before she could react further, Lando was by her side, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, his voice a low rumble. "Don't let them get to you. Mick's a phenomenal driver, everyone knows that."

Carlos Sainz, ever the comedian, piped up from across the room. "Besides, who needs talent when you have good looks like Mick, right?" he winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Y/N forced a smile, her anger slowly simmering down. She knew they were trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated their support. "Thanks, guys," she sniffled. "It just… it's frustrating."

Lewis, his calm demeanor ever-present, spoke up. "Let the results speak for themselves, Y/N. Mick's still young, and he's already proving himself. This kind of trash talk doesn't deserve your attention."

Max, still fuming, grabbed the phone again and typed furiously. "There," he declared, showing the screen to the rest of them. "I just tweeted my support for Mick. Let's see how those journalists like that."

Y/N let out a laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. These weren't just her teammates, they were her family, her chosen tribe. They understood the pressure, the scrutiny, and the unwavering loyalty that bound them together. They wouldn't let some random article bring her down.

Lando nudged her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, you know who the real untalented one is," he whispered, leaning in close.

Y/N playfully swatted his arm. "Oh yeah? And who's that?"

Lando winked. "The one who keeps losing to me on the simulator, obviously."

Their playful banter erupted into laughter, the tension completely forgotten. Surrounded by her closest friends, Y/N knew that no matter what the headlines said, she had her own championship team, one that valued love, support, and a good dose of healthy teasing.

time skip

The air crackled with a bittersweet energy as the F1 paddock celebrated Michael Schumacher's birthday. Banners emblazoned with his iconic number 7 adorned the pit lanes, and mechanics sported specially designed caps. Yet, beneath the celebratory facade, a current of unspoken grief hummed.

Mick and Y/N Schumacher stood shoulder-to-shoulder, a united front against the tide of emotions. Their gazes were fixed on a freshly painted mural across the track. It depicted Michael, mid-race, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of red. The artwork was a poignant reminder of the man they missed terribly.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper.

Mick nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "They captured him perfectly." A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Mick spoke, his voice gruff. "It hurts, doesn't it? Seeing him… but not really."

Y/N reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's the worst kind of absence, Mick. We know he's there, but…" she trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

Mick pulled her into a side hug, his protective aura a familiar comfort. "I know, Y/N. I know. But you're not alone. We have each other, and we have Mom. We'll get through this, together."

Y/N leaned into her brother's embrace, finding solace in his strength. "I know," she murmured. "It's just… I miss him telling me bad jokes after qualifying."

A choked laugh escaped Mick. "Yeah, those were the worst." He paused, then added, "But he still loved them, didn't he?"

Y/N chuckled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "He did. He loved seeing us laugh."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, the paddock noises a distant hum. Y/N looked up at the mural, a flicker of determination replacing the sadness in her eyes. "We'll make him proud, Mick. Both of us."

Mick met her gaze, his blue eyes mirroring her resolve. "We will. We owe him that."

A hand landed on Mick's shoulder. Sebastian Vettel stood beside them, his expression solemn. "He is proud of you both," he said softly. "Every single day."

Y/N and Mick exchanged a grateful smile. In that moment, surrounded by the people who knew their father best, they felt a surge of strength. Michael Schumacher's absence might leave an aching void, but his legacy, his love, and the unwavering support of their F1 family would forever keep his spirit alive.

[buckboi]

Angsty Little Coda to 7.6 because I couldn’t get the look on Margaret Buckley’s face out of my head but don’t worry it has a happy ending

*Now edited and on Ao3*

G / 1k / TW for bad parents

“Evan, have you got a moment?” 

Five words from his mother and Buck falls off cloud nine and crashes back to nineteen years old.

But Chimney’s alive and okay. Maddie’s glowing beside him in her gown. Everyone’s chatting and eating the overpriced (but admittedly delicious) wedding cake. It feels like a family gathering, and Buck won’t cause a scene in front of his family.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. Tommy gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Says I’ll be right here with just his eyes. Buck squeezes back, and follows his mom into the corridor.

“Come here.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket with one hand, grabs his chin with the other and starts wiping away the soot Tommy had left on his face when they reunited. “So. What’s all this then?”

It’s a trap, he knows.

“What’s all what?” he deflects.

“All this.” She waves her hand at his face, then towards the hospital room where Tommy is visible through the glass door. “You’re an adult now, Evan. I thought you knew better than to upstage your sister on her wedding day.”

Oh great. Accused of doing exactly what he’s trying not to do. It would be funny if it wasn’t frustrating.

“Second wedding,” he mutters under his breath. Just because Maddie was happy to forgive her parents for missing the first one, doesn't mean Buck has to let it go too.

“Excuse me?”

“I said she knows,” he corrects. This is a happy day. Chim is alive. Maddie is beautiful. Tommy is waiting for him. Things are good. He’s not arguing with his mother. “Maddie. I told her about Tommy weeks ago. She was the first person I told, actually. And she told me to bring him to the wedding, if I wanted to. The only one here who seems to have a problem with it is you.”

His mom scoffs at that, and lets go of his face.

“I’m not homophobic.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I just don’t think it’s right, springing it on your father like that.” She tuts at him. Like he’s nineteen, fifteen, twelve, eight years old. He almost liked it when she was disappointed in him. At least she was paying attention. “He’s getting older. His heart.”

“You think me having a boyfriend is going to give dad a heart attack?” He laughs at the absurdity of it all. “Do you think we should get him outta that room before he realizes Hen and Karen are lesbians?”

“Evan.” How she manages to say his name with some much judgment when she’s the one who names him, he’ll never know. “It’s different. When you find out your own child has been lying to you for years. And all those girls you’d string along...”

She looks hurt, but not angry, which is its own kind of fucked up. It’s not fair. She doesn’t get to be sad about this.

Not when things are finally feeling good, and safe, and right. When Tommy feels right.

“I wasn’t lying.” It’s maybe more of the truth than she deserves.

“I don’t see how that can be true if you’re gay.”

“Well I’m bi, actually. And I only just-“ he scrubs a hand over his face, probably spreading the soot around worse. “It’s a recent development, okay? That’s why people didn’t know. ‘Cause it’s new. And Tommy and I are taking it slow.”

“I suppose that’s a first for you too, Evan?” she snipes and it’s goddamn unfair because who is she to ask him that? To judge his life when she’s never so much as pretended to take an interest in it?

He has options, now. He could storm off. He could say something worse. He could say something worse, something about dead children and how they can’t disappoint you like the ones who are still alive and then storm off.

She’s not worth it, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Eddie, and Bobby; like Maddie, and Chim, and Hen, and Tommy.

Like someone who actually cares about him.

“Can we just… not?” he asks, and for a second Buck thinks she might actually refuse. Might force the point, but she lets out an unnecessarily weary sigh and nods. “Can’t we go back to the party, and enjoy what’s left of the day?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want that?” Buck doesn’t even attempt to answer that one. “Just let me get you looking respectable again and we can go back.” She grabs at his face once more.

“Buck! Chim wants you back for a team photo,” Maddie says, bursting out of Chimney’s room in a cloud of tulle. Just in time to witness his humiliation. Great. “Aww, you’re wiping it off?” 

“Of course he is,” their mom says. She’s scratching at his face with the tissue. Speaking for him like he can’t answer on his own. “It’s your wedding, Maddie. I won’t let him show you and Howard up.”

Buck takes a deep breath and smiles thinly as his sister furrows her brows.

“Oh, well, Chim said he wanted a photo with your face all dirty.” She laughs sweetly, and grabs Buck’s arm. “He wants to capture every detail of the day.” 

“Oh,” Buck says eloquently as he lets his sister pull him back into Chimney’s room. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she assures him.

“No it isn’t,” Chim cuts in from his bed. “Tommy, again. I want that photo!”

And Buck laughs, because it’s silly, and because he knows his family loves him. He asks, “Do we have to?” not because he doesn’t want to, but because it’s Maddie and Chim’s day, and he never wanted to steal their spotlight, even for a moment.

“Oh absolutely you do, Mister,” Maddie tells him, with just enough tease that he knows she wouldn’t force it if he protested. “Our wedding, our rules.”

Buck has no interest in protesting, instead he turns towards Tommy, who’d been a shockingly good sport about this. Buck’s sure he’s exhausted; probably desperate to get back to his apartment and shower off the day. Kinda wants to join him there if he’s being completely honest with himself.

“Well?” Tommy asks, interrupting his steamy fantasy.

Buck bites his lip like he's a teenager again.

“Hi.”

“H-“ Buck interrupts Tommy’s reply with his lips, far softer than before.

He’ll never ask how his mom reacted - whether she rolled her eyes, or pursed her lips or looked, even for a moment, proud of him - but Buck’s family cheers and jeers and whistles their support.

And he feels free.

[raineydays411]

My Father's Daughter pt 14

Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?

Dark.

That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.

But then there was a light.

A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.

"Hello."

Who the fuck was that?

"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.

"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."

You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.

"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."

Panic floods your body.

You finally realized what is happening.

They got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" What do you mean she's gone?!"

Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"

Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."

Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.

They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.

They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.

Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.

Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.

Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.

By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.

You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.

The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.

His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.

But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.

They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.

"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"

Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."

Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."

Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"

Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."

Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"

And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.

Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.

Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.

But she was afraid.

Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.

"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"

"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.

" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner

"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."

The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.

"Woah..harsh Jeeves"

Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.

"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"

"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"

Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.

"Who are you."

Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.

"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"

The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.

"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."

Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"

"They got her."

"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.

Except for Jason.

"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"

Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."

Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."

Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.

There's a heavy silence that fills the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panic fills your veins.

"That will be the first thing to go."

Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.

Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.

This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.

You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.

You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.

And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-

"Ah, you're aware."

A woman came in this time.

"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."

She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.

"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."

Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.

"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."

You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.

" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."

She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?

"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."

You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.

"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."

Wait what?

"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"

A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.

"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."

You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.

"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.

'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."

"Wait..what?"

"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.

"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."

While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."

That's when you knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.

All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.

It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.

Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.

"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"

"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."

"Well it's better than sitting here all-"

Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.

He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.

But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.

He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known

And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.

"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts

"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.

Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.

When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.

*ring* *ring*

"Talk to me."

"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"

"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."

"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"

A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"

"Peter, what are you saying?"

"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."

......

"Give me your location, we'll be right there."

[the-winter-spider]

Never Enough | B.Barnes

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort idk

Masterlist

—

The mission had been textbook so far, each Avenger playing their part with precision and skill. You moved through the chaos with a focused intensity, your grey-hued powers crackling around your hands as you deflected incoming attacks and shielded your teammates. The battlefield was a blur of noise and movement, but you were in the zone, you always were every action calculated to protect those around you, no one would ever get hurt because of you again.

Sam was high in the sky, engaged in an aerial battle with a group of enemy drones, when you spotted something he didn’t, a sniper, hidden on a distant rooftop, aimed directly at him “Sam!” You yelled through the comms, when all you heard was static you muttered to yourself “shit shit shit”

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the glint of the scope, without a second thought, you threw herself into action, your powers surging as you manipulated the grey energy to redirect the bullet.

The energy crackled and hissed as it wrapped around the speeding projectile, altering its course just enough to avoid a fatal shot, but in the process, you lost control for a split second, and the bullet grazed your ear, tearing through flesh before embedding harmlessly in a nearby wall.

You stumbled slightly from the impact, your hand instinctively reaching up to the side of your head, when you pulled it away, your fingers were slick with blood. The warm liquid began to trickle down your face, but you pushed the pain aside, focusing on the relief that Sam was still in the sky, unharmed.

The mission wrapped up quickly after that, the team neutralising the last of their enemies. As they regrouped, Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you, and his stomach dropped when he saw the blood staining the side of your face.

“Doll?!” he called out, rushing over to you. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he tilted your chin to get a better look at the wound “You’re bleeding.”

You winced slightly at his touch but managed a small, reassuring smile “It’s just a graze, Bucky, I’m fine”

“Fine?” he repeated, his voice tinged with panic “You’re bleeding all over the place” his hands touching you all over, eyes racking your body to make sure it was the only one.

You gently pulled his hand away from you, giving him a firm look, still holding his hand in yours squeezing it “It’s fine, really. Sam’s okay, and that’s what matters”

As if on cue, Sam landed beside them, his wings retracting as he touched down. He noticed the blood immediately, his eyes widening in shock. “Y/N, what the hell happened?”

You waved it off as if it were nothing, because it was nothing “Just a little sniper action, I saw the shot coming your way and redirected it, no big deal” You shrugged

Sam’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder “Thank you, I didn’t even see it coming… you saved my life”

You could feel his eyes peering into the side of your head, as if he was trying to see into your head and what you were actually thinking and what you were actually feeling. Before Bucky could protest further, the rest of the team gathered around, assessing the situation.

Natasha gave Y/N a once-over, her eyes lingering on the blood before nodding approvingly “Nice work out there.”

“Yeah, way to keep Sam in one piece,” Clint added with a grin.

You smiled, though the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore. Bucky noticed the way your smile faltered, but before he could press you to get checked out, Tony’s voice came over the comms, the ones that were finally working.

“Alright, team, let’s pack it up and head back to the Compound. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief as they headed to the jet. You knew Bucky was worried, but you couldn’t let him fuss over you right now. The wound was minor, and all that mattered was that all of you were heading home, all of them, your family…. alive.

The flight back to the Compound was uneventful, the team settling into a comfortable silence as they let the exhaustion of the mission sink in. You sat beside Bucky, leaning your head against the cool window, ignoring the throbbing on the side of your head. You could feel Bucky’s concerned gaze on you, but you kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep to avoid another confrontation.

When they landed, the team made their way to the common area, still buzzing with post-mission energy. Tony had ordered dinner, and they all gathered around the large table, digging into the food that was quickly delivered. The atmosphere was light, everyone enjoying the rare moment of relaxation.

As they ate, Tony cleared his throat, drawing the group’s attention “Before we all dig into dessert, I’ve got something to say.”

The room quieted as everyone looked at him expectantly.

“I was going over the mission logs today,” Tony continued, a playful smirk on his face. “And it turns out that our very own Y/N here has officially been on more missions than anyone else on the team this year.”

You blinked in surprise, your fork pausing mid-air. The rest of the team looked at you with varying degrees of shock and admiration.

“Wait, seriously?” Bruce asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Y/N joined after most of us,” Natasha added, her tone impressed.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of pride and concern flickering in his gaze. He knew how driven you were, but hearing that you had been on the most missions—despite the risks you took—made his heart clench. It made someone chun inside of him, he felt uneasy and nauseous. He knew you had baggage, dark shadows lurking behind you, almost everyone on the team did but this felt different.

You shifted uncomfortably under the attention, forcing a smile as you shrugged, trying to brush off the unwanted attention “Just trying to keep up with the rest of you.”

Tony raised his glass in a mock toast. “Well, here’s to Y/N—the MVP of the team. Just try not to hog all the action next year.”

Everyone chuckled, raising their glasses in her honour. You smiled, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the day and the worried look in Bucky’s eyes.

As the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You needed a moment alone to process everything—the wound, the mission, and the weight of Tony’s announcement.

As the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You needed a moment alone to process everything-the wound, the mission, and the weight of Tony's announcement.

But you weren't alone for long. Bucky found you, as he always did, quietly joining you, his presence a comforting warmth in the darkness.

"Sweetheart," he began, his voice low as he reached for you, brushing the hair off your face. His fingers lingered near the now bandaged wound. "You've got to stop doing this to yourself."

You didn't turn to face him, your gaze fixed on the stars above. "I'm fine, Buck... really."

He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your arm, his grip firm but tender, trying to keep his frustration in check. "I'm not just talking about today, you're pushing yourself too hard…you're getting hurt too often. I know this seems minor to you, but... you're everything to me, doll, I can't-" He cut himself off, swallowing hard.

You finally turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "I have to, Bucky. I can't stop, not when there's so much at stake”

He sighed, his expression tight with frustration, pain clouding his usually soft gaze."You don't have to do it all alone, we're a team. You've got us-you've got me…you always have me”

For a moment, you just stood there, the unspoken tension between you heavy in the air. You wanted to argue, to tell him that you needed to keep going, to keep saving lives. But the concern in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, made it harder to deny that maybe, just maybe, you were running yourself into the ground.

"I know you're trying to help," you said softly, your voice trembling as you searched for the right words. "But I don't know how to stop... I don't know how to just... be."

Bucky's face softened, and he pulled you closer, his arms

wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. We'll take it slow, okay? You don't have to do this”

But even as you stood there in his embrace, a part of you resisted. You couldn't shake the feeling that slowing down, letting go, meant giving up some part of yourself. And that terrified you.

You pulled away from him, your heart pounding in your chest as a sudden wave of frustration surged inside you. "You don't get it, Bucky," you said, your voice rising despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "If I stop-if I take a break-then what am I even here for? All I have is the next mission, the next chance to save someone else."

Bucky's brow furrowed, his hands hovering near you, unsure whether to reach for you again. "That's not true…you're here because you matter, because we matter. You're not just some weapon to be used over and over”

You shook your head, stepping back as the anger and pain you'd been suppressing for so long started to spill over. "I can't just stop, okay? You don't understand what it's like, knowing that no matter what I do, it'll never be enough to erase what happened." He had his own demons, you knew that, he knew that. You knew he knew what it felt like, that no matter how much good you did, you could never erase the past.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asked, his voice quiet, pleading "Enough for what?"

"My family," you snapped, the words tearing out of you like a wound being ripped open. "I killed them, Bucky. I was supposed to protect them, and I didn't. I couldn't." Your voice broke, and you took in a shaky breath, tears burning in your eyes. "No matter how many lives I save, it won't bring them back. It won't make up for what I did."

The silence that followed was deafening. Bucky stared at you, his expression stricken, as if he could feel the weight of your pain pressing down on him too. His voice, when he spoke, was raw and filled with emotion. "You were a kid... You couldn't control it. How could you blame yourself for that?"

"Because who else is there to blame?" you cried, your voice cracking with the intensity of your grief. "I'm the one who's supposed to have control. I'm the one with these powers, and I couldn't – didn't save them….and now, I have to keep going because if I don't... if I stop..."

"If you stop, what?" Bucky's voice was sharp now, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You think you'll suddenly fall apart? You think it'll undo everything you've done, everything you've fought for?"

You wiped at your eyes angrily, turning away from him. "Maybe….Maybe I deserve to fall apart. Maybe I should."

"Stop," he said, stepping forward, his voice firm, a thread of anger creeping into it. "You're punishing yourself, and it's not helping anyone, least of all you."

You spun back around, the heat of your emotions pushing you beyond the point of caring. "And what if I am? What if this is the only way I know how to keep going?"

Bucky's face hardened, the pain in his eyes replaced with something colder, something distant. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up and I can't stand by and watch you do that!”

"Then don't!" you yelled, your chest heaving as the words tumbled out before you could stop them. "If it's so hard for you, then just leave, Bucky! I'm used to being alone."

His silence was like a slap in the face. For a moment, you thought he might actually walk away, that you had finally pushed him too far.

But when he spoke, his voice was quiet, devastated. "You really think l'd leave you? After everything?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of your own words sinking in, but the anger and the pain wouldn't let you stop. "Maybe you should…maybe it would be easier for both of us."

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes shining with hurt. "If that's what you want."

You felt the sting of your own words twisting in your chest, regret pooling in your stomach. But it was too late now. The damage was done, you couldn't take it back.

Without another word, Bucky turned and walked away, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, each one echoing like a hammer in your chest.

And when the door finally closed behind him, the quiet that followed was suffocating. The stars above you blurred as the tears finally fell, but this time, there was no one there to hold you together.

You were alone. Just like you always feared you would be.

After the door closed behind him, you stood frozen, your breath caught in your throat. The silence was heavy, thick with the weight of words you couldn’t take back. The pain in Bucky’s eyes haunted you, replaying in your mind like a broken record.

You leaned against the balcony railing, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. The cold wind stung against the cut on your ear, but the physical pain was a dull ache compared to the emotional wreckage inside of you.

“I did it again,” you whispered to yourself, your voice shaky, broken. “I pushed him away.”

You thought back to the mission, to the moment you’d saved Sam without thinking of yourself. That was who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who always threw themselves in harm’s way, someone who believed their life was a bargaining chip to protect others. But with Bucky…it was different. He didn’t need saving. He needed you to let him in, and you couldn’t.

The stars blurred as more tears filled your eyes. All you could see was the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face as he turned to leave.

Maybe you were too far gone. Maybe the weight of your past, of your guilt, was too much for anyone to carry, even Bucky. He’d seen the worst of you, and now, maybe he’d finally had enough.

You choked back a sob, the hollow emptiness in your chest growing, threatening to swallow you whole. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you fought to hold yourself together, but it was no use. The cracks were already showing.

And in the quiet of the night, with nothing but the stars and your own racing thoughts, you wondered if you’d pushed the one person who could understand you too far. If you’d finally driven him away for good.

The door didn’t open again.

You were alone. Truly, completely alone. And the worst part was, it felt like you deserved it. Because you did.

You stayed there, staring at the night sky as if the stars could offer answers, but all they did was remind you of how small and insignificant everything felt. The wind howled through the silence, and your body shook—whether from the cold or from the emotions tearing you apart, you weren’t sure.

Suddenly, the door creaked open again, and for a moment, your heart leapt, thinking Bucky had come back. But when you heard the familiar sound of soft footsteps, you realised it was someone else.

“You okay?” Natasha’s voice was quiet, cautious.

You didn’t turn around, wiping at your eyes quickly to hide the tears “Yeah… just needed some air.”

Natasha came to stand beside you, leaning her elbows on the railing, her sharp eyes scanning your face even though you refused to meet them. “You know, you’re a terrible liar”

You huffed a humourless laugh, the sound bitter in your throat. “Guess I am”

Natasha sighed softly, leaning in closer. “I heard what happened… between you and Bucky, i didn't mean to eavesdrop ”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at the mention of his name “Yeah, well, it’s my fault. I pushed him away, that’s what I do.”

Natasha tilted her head, her gaze softer than usual. “You think pushing people away makes you stronger, but it’s only making you more vulnerable”

You stared at the ground, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m too broken to fix? What if I ruin everything I touch?”

Natasha straightened, her expression turning serious. “You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re hurting but there’s a difference.”

You shook your head, your fingers tightening around the railing “You didn’t see the look on his face when I practically told him to leave….and he did.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her voice sharp but not unkind. “Bucky’s not the type to give up easily, especially when it comes to you, he loves you so much…He’ll come back, but you have to let him in. You can’t keep shutting him out, or one day… he might not come back”

You finally looked at her, your eyes brimming with unshed tears “What if it’s too late?”

Natasha shook her head. “It’s not too late..not unless you let it be”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to break down again. “I don’t know how to stop, Nat. I don’t know how to stop blaming myself.”

Natasha placed a hand on your arm, her grip firm, grounding you. “You have to forgive yourself, you weren’t responsible for what happened to your family and you’re not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world, You’ve done more than enough.”

You felt the weight of her words, but they seemed so far away from what you felt in your chest. “I don’t know if I can.”

Natasha’s eyes softened again. “Then let us help you, let Bucky help you..that’s what he wants and its what you need”

You looked away, your voice small and fragile. “I’m afraid I’ll lose him, I’m afraid I’ll lose all of you.”

Natasha squeezed your arm gently. “You won’t, but if you keep pushing us away, you’re only going to lose yourself”

For a long moment, you stood in silence, her words sinking in. The night air felt a little colder, but her presence grounded you, reminded you that you weren’t alone—even if it felt that way.

Finally, you nodded, barely a whisper escaping your lips. “I don’t know how to fix this, Nat.”

Natasha gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to fix everything, Y/N. Sometimes, you just have to let people be there for you”

You stood there for a moment longer, Natasha’s words hanging in the air like a lifeline. She was right. You didn’t have to fix everything alone, and Bucky—he wouldn’t give up on you that easily.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to her. “Thanks, Nat… I think I need to talk to him”

Natasha gave you a knowing smile, her eyes softening. “Go…He’s probably waiting for you.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way inside. The hallways of the Compound were quiet, the hum of the place barely a whisper against the tension knotting in your stomach. You weren’t sure where he had gone, but you knew Bucky—he would seek solitude, someplace quiet to think.

Heading toward the common area, you peeked around the corners until you found him sitting on the couch, his back turned to you. His posture was tense, shoulders hunched forward as he stared blankly at the wall. The sight of him like that—silent and still—made your chest ache. You hated seeing him hurt, especially when it was your words that had caused it.

You took a tentative step forward, clearing your throat softly. “Bucky?”

His shoulders tensed at the sound of your voice, but he didn’t turn around. For a moment, you feared he might stay silent, that you had pushed him too far. But then, he sighed, his voice low and filled with emotion “What do you want, Y/N?”

Your heart clenched, and you took a deep breath before stepping closer. “I… I just wanted to apologise for what I said earlier”

Bucky’s head tilted slightly, but he still didn’t turn around “You told me to leave, so I did.”

You winced at the pain in his voice, the weight of your own words crashing over you again “I didn’t mean it, Buck…I was just… scared. Of losing you, of everything”

There was a long pause, the silence stretching between you like a chasm you were desperate to cross. Finally, Bucky spoke, his voice quiet but laced with vulnerability. “I know you’re scared, but so am I.”

You blinked in surprise, stepping even closer now, your hand reaching out hesitant to touch his shoulder “You’re scared?”

He finally turned to face you, his blue eyes soft and filled with a raw emotion that made your breath hitch. “Of course I am, every time I see you throw yourself into danger like that, I’m terrified I’m going to lose you. You keep pushing yourself too hard, Y/N, and it’s killing me. You mean everything to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away. “Bucky… I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you.”

He stood up then, towering over you but not in an intimidating way. His presence was warm, comforting, and despite everything, you felt safe with him. He reached out slowly, brushing his fingers against your cheek as if testing the waters “I just want you to be okay, doll…that’s all I’ve ever wanted, you’re all i ever want”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes searching his, the sincerity of his words making your heart ache. “I don’t want to push you away. I just… I’ve been running for so long, I didn’t know how to stop.”

Bucky’s thumb gently traced along your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring “Then stop running, sweetheart. Let me be there for you”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you reached up to place your hand over his. “I don’t want to be alone, not anymore.”

Bucky’s face softened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.

“You’ll never be alone,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Not as long as I’m here”

You squeezed him tighter, feeling the weight of your fears slowly melt away in his embrace. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you didn’t have to carry everything on your own.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his eyes filled with so much warmth it made your heart flutter. “Anytime, doll. You’re stuck with me now.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you, the tension between you both easing as his lips curled into a playful smile. “Good, I think I like being stuck with you.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips. It was soft and gentle, like he was afraid of breaking the moment, but it sent warmth flooding through your body.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a soft whisper. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart soared at his words, and you smiled up at him, finally allowing yourself to let go of all the fear and doubt. “I love you too, Bucky…. More than you’ll ever know.”

Bucky’s eyes shone with affection, and he kissed you again, this time deeper, more passionate. The world around you faded away, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

In his arms, you weren’t broken, you weren’t alone. You were whole. And that was more than enough.

[lilacmingi]

TOWARDS THE LIGHT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Sith!Seonghwa x Jedi!fem reader

Word count: 16,450

Note: So I didn’t think I’d ever write anything longer than Hongjoong’s D&D AU “A Quest For Love” but here we are lol so strap in because this is a big one

The sizzling sound of clashing lightsabers filled the air in the training room, blue and green beams of light swinging around and colliding with one another with a resounding spark.

Seonghwa's saber was swung towards you, which you blocked, pushing back with your own weapon and successfully deflecting his attack. He let out a huff, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth at the challenge. He always liked battling with you, though you bested him most of the time, he took it as a chance to improve.

The blue beam of light Seonghwa wielded was spun around in a showy manner as he lunged forward, raising the saber. Your eyes stayed trained on him as he approached with an aggressive attack, holding out your green lightsaber in preparation before swinging it at his and successfully knocking it from his hand.

Seonghwa grunted in mild agitation as he landed on the ground, having lost his footing when he landed. His arm shot out and brought the weapon back to his hand by using the Force. He was always good at that.

Getting to his feet, he wasted no time coming at you again, this time with a determined gleam in his eye. His burst of energy took you by surprise and you found yourself scrambling to do something before his blazing beam of light came swinging at you. With only a few seconds to react, your lightsaber came up to halt his attack, the beams making a sizzling sound when touching.

The weapons were pulled away from one another before clashing once more, and again, and again. Each time, neither of you were able to strike the other.

This was a familiar scene. Being in this gray training room with walls made of metal. You and Seonghwa had spent almost your whole lives training to be Jedi. You were Luke's only apprentices. You were the best of friends—inseparable some might say.

After continuing to block attacks, you saw a moment of opportunity and leapt into the air, attempting to use the Force to assist you in going high enough to jump right over Seonghwa. You just barely missed his head as you moved through the air, landing on the ground with a soft huff. Now standing just behind Seonghwa, you held the tip of your lightsaber to the back of his head, making him freeze.

"I win."

"Not bad." He commented with a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender before turning to face you. "That Force jump was a little rusty though."

"I thought I'd try something new." You shrugged, deactivating your weapon.

"You could still use some practice." He remarked, doing the same with his saber.

"I'm impressed." A voice full of wisdom spoke from one end of the training room.

You and Seonghwa turned your heads towards the utterance, finding Luke standing in the doorway with a fond expression on his face. He had been watching.

"Y/n, that's the first time I've seen you successfully execute a Force jump. You need a little more practice, but I think you'll have it down in no time."

"Thank you, Master Luke." You bowed at his praises, always honored to receive them from such a well-known Jedi.

"Seonghwa, you have this fire in your eyes when engaged in a fight. You've got determination, but your attacks were a little aggressive. When in battle it's good to be strong and vigorous, but you also need to be fluid and focused. Sometimes hostility isn't the best course of action."

Seonghwa nodded, taking in the information he was being given. He wanted to be a good Jedi, as good as Master Luke, and he would do anything to work towards that goal.

"I'll try and tone it down." He nodded, showing that he understood the critiques he was given.

"Good." Luke smoothed out his gray robes, giving the both of you a once over before speaking again. "You two had better go eat. I'm sure you're exhausted from training. You kids have been in here for hours."

With that, he exited the training room.

Glancing over at your battle partner, you could see his round coffee-colored eyes shine with interest at the mention of food—Seonghwa was always a big eater.

"Let's go." You linked arms with him, tugging him out of the room and into the corridor of the ship you often trained in.

Hurrying down the loading ramp of the spacecraft that was parked amongst the lush greenery, you and Seonghwa hastened across the base past other Resistance members, heading directly for the canteen which was really just a large tent set up for people to eat in.

Seonghwa pushed past the beige canvas flaps and entered the area where a handful of people were eating. His eyes locked on the bar situated at the back of the tent where a droid was busying itself by stacking clean bowls. Plopping down on two of the six vacant barstools, you and Seonghwa rested your elbows on the countertop, the droid rolling over to take your orders. A wooden board with a small selection of dishes carved into it hung from a structural beam above the bar. Seonghwa's index finger hovered in the air as he read over the items as if he hadn't done so the last thousand times you two had been in there. While he decided what he wanted, you waved the droid over and ordered a vitajuice and a warm stew, hoping for something filling after a strenuous practice battle.

"Me too." Seonghwa piped up before the droid rolled away, settling on getting the same as you.

"Copycat."

He snorted-slash-scoffed in response to your playful name-calling. "It sounded good when you ordered it. Also, a vitajuice is what I need right now after all that practice." As if to emphasize his words, he stretched out his back and jerked his head a bit, cracking his neck in the process.

"Sure." You responded with an eye roll.

The low murmur of patrons in the mess tent and the distant sound of clanking dishes in the back floated through the air, filling the comfortable silence between you and Seonghwa as you waited for your meals.

The bar droid rolled out from the kitchen area with two glasses clutched in each of its pincers, placing them in front of you and Seonghwa. After thanking the droid, it got back to work behind the counter stacking dishes, picking up right where it left off.

Taking the straw between your index finger and thumb, you took a sip of the refreshing juice, sighing in satisfaction as the cool liquid coated your mouth.

"Ahh. That hits the spot." You hummed.

"Sure does." Seonghwa agreed, sipping so hard on the straw that his cheeks sucked in.

You cackled in response to the ridiculous sight next to you.

"Easy there, bud. It's not going anywhere." You managed to speak through laughter, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

He pulled away with a drawn-out exhale, the drink having obviously refreshed him.

"I could've chugged the whole thing if I really wanted to."

"I don't doubt it."

Seonghwa's large eyes grew in size when a droid from the kitchen rounded the corner with two bowls of piping hot stew a few minutes later, his hungry gaze following the dishes until they were set down before you. Spoons were given to each of you and you wasted no time getting a sizable spoonful of the stew, Seonghwa following suit. Hums made in unison reverberated in both your throats when you took your first bites, the meal warming you from the inside.

"Is it just me or does food taste better after you've been practicing?" You asked.

"It definitely tastes better." Seonghwa nodded in agreement.

After a filling and satisfactory meal, you took a stroll around camp while your food settled. People bustled about, carrying equipment and crates across the way, some taking them into a nearby cave which doubled as a makeshift hangar for one of the many spaceships.

There was a nice breeze jostling the baby hairs that framed your face and fluttering the leaves of nearby trees. The gray fabric of your pants brushed against the tall grass that covered every inch of the area and beyond. Ajan Kloss, the jungle moon where the Resistance base resided, was where you and Seonghwa had been living your whole lives. You were both moved here as kids, probably no older than ten, by your resistance member parents and when your shared force-sensitivity was discovered by Luke, he started training you. It's all either of you had ever known. There were only fleeting glimpses of your old home planet.

A year later, you found yourself sitting on the Millennium Falcon with Seonghwa, seated on the curved bench of the holographic game table in the lounge area watching him play a round of dejarik with Chewbacca. The ship, piloted by Luke and his closest companion, Han Solo, was headed straight to the planet of Ilum to find kyber crystals for yours and Seonghwa's very own lightsabers. It was tradition for younglings to build their lightsaber before moving up to padawan status, but Luke was different. He had his own ways of training that contrasted from how it used to be before the Great Jedi Purge took place and wiped out almost all the Jedi. Thus why you and Seonghwa were just now getting lightsabers. To say you were excited was an understatement.

Chewbacca raised his furry arms up in victory, having beat Seonghwa in yet another round of dejarik.

"Man." Sighed your friend as he leaned back against the bench with a small smirk tugging up at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't feel bad." You gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Chewie has been playing this game for years. He's a dejarik pro. It's nearly impossible to beat him."

"One day." Seonghwa pointed at the undefeated Wookie who waved off his promise dismissively.

"Hey, kids." Han's approaching voice, followed by the man himself, grabbed your attention. "We're on autopilot right now, but we should be to Ilum soon." He then turned to Chewie. "I hope you're going easy on him." He nodded towards Seonghwa.

The Wookie shook his head before throwing his head back to laugh heartily. Han gave a small chuckle and a head shake of his own before leaning to rest against the nearest wall.

"So, lightsabers." He began.

"Yeah." You nodded with a grin. "I'm really excited. This is a special day."

"Very special." Seonghwa agreed. "It's the most significant day for us as padawans."

"Oh, yes." Han nodded. "I know all about it." He paused to look at the both of you. "Y'know, Luke is really proud of you both. I'm sure he's told you that in some way or another, but I figured I'd say something anyway."

You and Seonghwa shared a gentle look with one another, touched by Han's words.

"Alright, well," He cleared his throat and pushed off the wall he was leaned against, heading out of the room. "gotta get back to the cockpit. Chewie, try to let Seonghwa win a round, will ya?"

A year after you and Seonghwa crafted your lightsabers, Master Luke passed away. It was sudden and almost decisive, like Luke knew it was his time to go and so he went to be one with the Force. Things changed after that.

Your training came to a temporary halt and you were left without a Jedi Master. For a week you didn't leave your sleeping quarters. Meals were brought to you via Leia. Chewie even stopped by once. He was good company and his hugs were always healing in a way. You heard Seonghwa was about the same, staying cooped up in his room just like you.

After that first week, you tried to return to normal and Seonghwa started spending time in the training room swinging his lightsaber and screaming until his lungs burned. You only knew that because you saw him once when passing by. That was the only time you saw him, as he stayed locked in his room majority of the time, isolating himself.

A week and four days after Luke's passing, Seonghwa disappeared. You two were both so wrapped up in mourning that you kept to yourselves. Once your mind had cleared enough, you wanted to check on your friend and see how he was holding up. When the door to his sleeping quarters slid open, you were alarmed to find it completely bare. His bed was made and every piece of furniture was cleared off.

The color drained from your face and every part of your body went cold, your heart plummeting to your feet.

"No." You murmured, spinning around and rushing down the corridors of the ship, stopping at the training room only to find it empty.

Stumbling through the halls, you called out Seonghwa's name, the desperation and panic becoming more apparent in your tone.

"Y/n. What's wrong?"

Whirling around on your heel, you spotted Leia standing at the entrance hall of the spaceship.

"Seonghwa's gone." The words left your lips shakily, fading out weakly at the end. "His room is bare. Cleaned out."

Leia hurried over to take you in her arms just as your knees buckled. With Luke's passing still fresh, Seonghwa disappearing suddenly was like rubbing salt in a wound that hadn't even begun to heal.

"It's alright." Leia cooed, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head. "He could've needed some time alone... away from here."

"Why would he just leave without saying anything?"

"It's possible he's dealing with lots of emotions right now. Maybe he was overwhelmed."

The next words you uttered were muffled due to your face being buried in Leia's shoulder. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"He will. Just give him time."

You sat inside your sleeping quarters of a ship parked at the Resistance base, staring fondly at the lightsaber in your hands. Your fingertips glided reverently over the silvery metal of the hilt, admiring the intricate designs that were etched into them—a personal touch. Though you'd possessed the saber for three years, you still admired it.

"Y/n?"

At the sound of your name being called, you lifted your gaze to find General Leia standing in the doorway of your room.

"Come in."

She entered, a solemn expression etched on her aged yet elegant face as she moved to take a seat beside you on the bed.

"You look concerned." Shifting to face Leia, your brows pulled together. "What's wrong?"

"They're after us again."

"They? The First Order?"

She nodded. "They already destroyed our last base and now they're trying to find this one."

"What do we do? Do we move?"

Leia shook her head. "No. We're not giving up. Besides, they haven't found us yet."

"Then, why'd you come to me?"

She pressed her lips together and stood up, smoothing out her attire. "Let's walk."

You stood up immediately and followed her down the corridor of the ship and off the loading ramp.

Although you tried to be patient, you were itching to know why Leia had come to you with this urgent information. However, instead of forcing her to speak, you waited for her to do it on her own accord.

Your gaze moved to the ships parked about the area as you approached, your fingers fiddling anxiously with the hem of your gray tunic. Whatever it was she needed to say, it wasn't good.

"We need you, Y/n." She finally spoke. "You were trained by my brother and then by me for the last three years."

You blinked incredulously, wondering where she was going with this.

"We don't know what the First Order knows about our location or if they even know it at all. So I need you to sneak onto their ship and plant a listening device."

"You need me to do... what?"

"If we could listen in on what they're talking about, we could collect intel, find out what they know, and use it to our advantage."

"Leia I..." You trailed off, reeling from this being dropped on you so suddenly. "I'm sorry. I have to decline. I-I'm not ready."

"You are. You've been ready."

"There has to be someone else."

She came to a stop, turning to face you fully, her expression serious. "There isn't. You're our only hope."

You shook your head. "What if—"

"No." She stopped you. "No what if's. Y/n, if I didn't think you were capable, I wouldn't be sending you on this mission."

You hardly even ventured off Ajan Kloss. How were you expected to carry out this mission?

"I just..." Your mind was a swirling supercell storm of emotions.

There were so many things to consider, like your lack of expertise in other areas besides battle and having no experience in real missions.

"I can't fly a spaceship, let alone sneak into enemy territory with one. How would I even manage to get by their sensors? They'd pick me up in their airspace right away."

"I can do it." Poe piped up as he happened to be passing by. "I've got a First Order ship in the cave over there." He jerked a thumb somewhere behind him towards a cluster of rocks.

"How did you even get one of those?"

He shrugged in response. "Connections."

Just then, Finn passed by, giving you both a friendly smile and a small wave, oblivious to your conversation. You nodded knowingly in immediate understanding.

"Ah. I see."

"So, will you do it?" Leia asked you, bringing the focus back to the issue at hand.

Taking in a deep breath, you let the possible outcomes flicker in your mind like a slideshow. This could all go terribly wrong—or perhaps it could go incredibly well. Leia believed in you and being the only Jedi on the base, you felt obligated to help, not that you could ever say no anyway.

"Yes."

Walking down the familiar corridors of the ship you called home, you tried to process the fact that you'd be going on your first mission very soon. It was a heavy weight to bear and an even bigger responsibility. Lost in thought, you passed by a room that carried bitter emotions, your footsteps coming to a stop beside it without really thinking. Pressing a button, the door slid open and your eyes landed on the space that was untouched for three years.

Seonghwa's room.

Passing the threshold, you stepped inside and glanced around, your fingers caressing the comforter.

"I sure wish you were here right now." You sighed, speaking aloud to the memories of Seonghwa that remained stagnant in the space. "Could really use your help on this one."

A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it down, blinking back tears that started to prick your eyes. At first you were sad and confused about Seonghwa leaving all of a sudden—you still were. Then you got angry, feeling like he walked out on you. Now you were just numb.

"This should've been our mission, not mine."

Dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed, you let out another heavy sigh. Your fingers traced absentmindedly over the sleek nightstand, trailing across the handle of a drawer. Without thinking, you tugged on it, something jostling inside as you did so.

With furrowed brows, you peered into the drawer, your eyes slowly widening when you spotted Seonghwa's lightsaber lying inside. With a shaky hand, you reached in and took hold of the hilt, retrieving it from where it sat for three long years.

He left his lightsaber.

This only raised more questions. Did he just give up? Decide he didn't want to be a Jedi anymore since Luke passed?

An image of Seonghwa living on some run-down planet, isolated and alone, flashed in your mind and you hated it.

Shaking away those thoughts, you stood up, your friend's lightsaber in hand, and left. Seonghwa's abandoned weapon was placed on a shelf in your room for safe keeping in case he returned one day.

The following evening, you gathered in the meeting hall with other Resistance members where a plan was made for how you'd infiltrate the First Order's ship and where to plant listening devices. A layout of the enemy ship was projected into the air showing all the different areas.

"A meeting room would be ideal. As would the main control room of the ship. That is where talks between the generals and captains take place." C-3PO spoke in his posh robotic voice while R2-D2 beeped in response. "You could collect lots of intel there."

You nodded, taking it all in, determined to do your absolute best on this mission.

Staring down the entry point on the First Order ship, you clenched your hands at your sides, anxiety plaguing every inch of your body.

"You got this." Poe's voice came from the cockpit of the ship. "I'll be waiting here for you when you're done. You can communicate through your earpiece and I'll be keeping an eye on you through the tracking device inside of it."

"What if I mess up?"

"You won't. I'll tell you where to go."

"What if I get captured?"

"Then we're coming for you."

With that reassurance, you gave a nod and hopped off the spacecraft and into the hangar, sticking close to the wall. You came equipped with three listening devices to plant and your lightsaber which was strapped to your waist in its holster. Your vigilant eyes stayed trained on the stormtroopers marching about the hangar as you slinked along, sneaking behind large First Order spacecrafts parked about the area and using them for coverage until you got to the doors that led to the inside of the ship.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you waited for an opportunity to slip inside when no one was looking. Your hands trembled as you felt the slightest bit of relief that one hurdle had been conquered. Now it was time for the real mission—planting listening devices and not getting caught.

"Poe? I'm in." You whispered.

"Good. You're doing well." He responded through your earpiece. "Go straight and then take a left."

Taking in a deep breath, you proceeded down the empty and darkened corridor of the ship, peering around the corner before taking a turn. There was no time to waste, so you kept moving while waiting for more instructions.

"There you go. Keep going. The meeting room is on your right. Put a listening device under the table in there if the coast is clear."

"Is this it?" You asked once you arrived at a large set of dark gray doors.

"Yes."

Pressing your ear against the cool metal, you listened for voices on the other side, receiving silence in response. Your trembling finger pressed the button to open the doors, a breath of relief leaving your dry lips when you were greeted with the sight of an empty room. Digging out a listening device, you stuck it under the edge of the table, poking your head out to check the halls before swiftly moving out.

"I got it."

"Alright. Proceed down the hall."

Your feet moved quickly, your boots making little noise in the process.

With Poe's direction, you were able to successfully place the second device without issue.

As you fled the area, the sound of stormtroopers talking made you freeze up. Being on a First Order ship, the structure of it was unique with protruding pillars that made for the perfect hiding spot. That, paired with the dim lighting was ideal for your situation, making it easy for you to slip through the shadowy areas. As the voices got closer, you darted to hide yourself behind one of the blocky pillars that jutted out from the wall, pressing yourself against the chilly metal and hoping you wouldn't get caught. The beating of your racing heart thudding in your ears almost completely masked the footfalls of the stormtroopers, your hand hovering over your lightsaber as you watched the two pass by. Your eyes stayed locked on them, following the white-armored figures who didn't notice your presence.

The hand that lingered over your weapon dropped back to your side once the threat was gone and you were on your way.

One more listening device to place.

The intense anxiety you felt before the mission began was not nearly as bad as it was. Having been roaming the corridors of the spaceship for the last ten minutes or so, you managed to get used to the task you were carrying out. That being said, there was still the anxiety of everything going wrong, however, you tried to keep your hopes up.

"Y/n? You still there?"

"Yeah." You let out an exhale. "Stormtroopers passed by. I was hiding."

"Good call. Your last destination is the control room. That'll be difficult because it'll be full of ship staff I'm sure."

Poe could hear your sigh through the earpiece.

"Hey, you got this." He encouraged.

"I know."

"You don't sound very confident."

"I'm not." You murmured, peering around a corner before rounding it. "But I'm gonna pretend to be."

"There you go. Fake it 'til you make it."

A mix between a scoff and a chuckle left you.

"Control room is up the way. Keep an eye out though, there might be some unsavory individuals in there."

That made your heart jump with dread. Unsavory individuals?

"Like who?"

"Ones in higher ranks, like generals."

"I see."

You proceeded down the corridor, pressing yourself behind another metal pillar to hide from more approaching stormtroopers. As soon as they passed, you got back to the mission.

"The doorway should be directly ahead of you." Poe informed.

"I see it."

A few feet in front of you was an open doorway, multiple uniformed people sitting in front of large control panels. Holding your breath, you drew closer to the doorway, daring to peer inside. Standing at the forefront of the room in front of a massive window and more controls was a man in a black uniform, probably a general, discussing something with another crew member.

"Just stick the tracker in a corner or something. Don't stay too long." Poe's voice spoke into your ear.

With the last listening device in hand, you scanned your surroundings and took a step into the control room, spotting one of those structural pillars. The little device was placed into the junction between the wall and the column, unable to be spotted unless someone was really looking for it.

Back on the ship, Poe watched the red dot on his little handheld tracker screen as it moved along the halls of the First Order ship.

"You got it?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Nice work." He grinned. "I knew you could do it. Now get back here and let's split."

"Copy that."

His eyes stayed locked on the red dot traversing the map as he gave you directions. Every few feet, you'd stop, assumably to hide from passerby in the ship, before resuming.

"Almost there." He said.

You were approaching the hangar, only one turn down the hall and you'd be home free.

The dot stopped moving.

A gasp sounded from your end and Poe's heart sank.

"Y/n?"

"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, sounding close to you.

More panicked noises came through, getting quieter before Poe heard a distant "No!" from you before the feed got staticky, a crunch, and then silence.

"Y/n?" The panic in the pilot's voice rose. "Are you there? Do you copy?"

Nothing.

Poe looked out the windshield of the First Order ship he used to sneak in, peering down at the stormtroopers lingering about. Some of them had their hands held to the side of their helmets before turning to look directly at the spacecraft Poe was occupying.

"Blast!" He hissed through his teeth.

Not only had he lost contact with you, but it seems whoever caught you had notified everyone on board. He had no choice but to hightail it out of there, lest he get captured as well.

"Sorry, Y/n." He murmured, sitting upright in his seat and starting up the ship. "New plan."

The stormtroopers below started shooting at the spacecraft as it lifted off the floor, the hangar door beginning to close. Poe pushed the handles on the control panel forward and the ship plowed down the troopers close by.

"C'mon. C'mon." He spoke through clenched teeth, directing the spacecraft towards the exit, picking up speed.

The gap was slowly closing and it seemed Poe wasn't gonna make it. He winced as the top of the ship scraped against the closing hangar door, not doubt denting and scratching the exterior, as it slipped out into the open space.

A sigh of relief left the pilot as he made his escape, silently vowing to come back with a whole team of Resistance fighters to bring you home just as he promised.

You'd been listening to instructions from Poe, coming to a stop to peer around the corner when he told you to take a turn. That's when someone grabbed you from behind, making you gasp. You couldn't see who it was as you struggled in their grip.

"Y/n?" Poe asked.

"Well, well, well. What's this?" A male voice spoke, a gloved hand moving into your peripherals as your earpiece was pulled out and dropped to the floor.

"No!" You exclaimed.

You could barely hear Poe's panicked voice from the device as it fell, clattering to the metal flooring, your captor swiftly crushing it under his chunky black boot.

You writhed in his hold, somehow managing to slip out, stumbling forward and reaching for your lightsaber which you withdrew from its holster and activated it, the green beam humming as it extended from the hilt.

Your enemy, who donned an all-black outfit and a hood that concealed his face, activated his own saber, a blazing red beam lengthening at his side.

With hardly any time to react, you held your lightsaber up, blocking an aggressive attack from the Sith in front of you. Any anxiety you felt was numbed by your survival instincts and the desire to make it back home—if that was even an option anymore. For all you knew, Poe could've abandoned the mission for the sake of safety.

Clenching your teeth, you pushed back against the red beam with all the power you could muster, getting the Sith away just long enough to scramble backwards down the corridor. It didn't take long before he was back on you again, swinging left and right while you blocked and dodged his attempted attacks. Your back hit a door and your free hand felt for a button, pressing it. A hissing sound came from the hatch as the doors slid open and you staggered backwards inside. The area had electrical panels on the wall and was more spacious than the ship's corridor, giving you more room to fight and move around.

The Sith strode into the room with you and swiped at your side, which you barely evaded. In turn, you let out a grunt and swung your weapon at his chest, which he leaned back and avoided with ease.

Straightening his posture, he brandished his lightsaber in preparation, his boots thumping heavily against the floors as he approached. A shout left the hooded man as he swung at you, the saber making a resounding voosh as the blade was forced through the air.

Your eyes widened as his saber collided with yours harshly, the force behind the action making you stumble back slightly, your arms trembling as you tried to push back against it.

You weren't prepared for this.

All that training and you weren't prepared.

With a jerk of his lightsaber, The Sith knocked your weapon right out of your hand, causing it to deactivate and skid across the room.

The cloaked figure held his weapon above his head, spinning while thrusting the blade in your direction, the force of the showy action causing his hood to fly off just as you fell to the ground trying to back away.

"Ugh!" A grunt was forced out of your body as you collided with the floor, your eyes staring down the humming red beam pointed directly at your throat.

Your chest moved up and down rapidly with each shallow breath, looking up at your attacker with wide, horrified eyes as you realized his hood had flown off. Every limb in your body went cold, the blood draining from your face in an instant.

"Seonghwa?"

His hair was longer, reaching just above his shoulders, some of the long strands stuck to his forehead from the intense fight. His eyes, which you remembered being round and full of warmth, were now sharp and cold as ice. Your best friend had fallen victim to the Dark Side.

His eyes widened for just a millisecond at the sound of his name before narrowing, his gaze hardened and full of contempt as if just seeing you brought back unwanted memories.

"What did they do to you?" Your voice came out in a faint whisper of shock and horror.

"They didn't do anything to me."

His tone was harsh and calloused, no sign of the once upbeat and soft-spoken Seonghwa you knew three years ago.

The severity of the situation hit you and you began scrambling back away from the deadly red beam of light in your face, your arm reaching out to bring your own saber back to you. It slowly started rolling towards you only for Seonghwa to stretch an open hand out towards it, intercepting it and throwing the weapon across the room by an invisible force.

"You may have been a better fighter, but you always were a horrible user of the Force." He spat.

The doors to the room hissed and two stormtroopers walked in.

"Take her away." Seonghwa ordered sternly watching you with an unchanging and stoic expression as you were roughly tugged to your feet and dragged out of the room. "Detention cell 1117." He specified.

There were so many things you wanted to say, yet nothing came from your lips. All you could do was stare at Seonghwa with an expression full of confusion and hurt as you were hauled out of the room.

The cell you were placed in was nothing like you expected; it was clean and equipped with a small, but cushioned cot. The stormtroopers shoved you into the room, slamming the door shut, giving you one glance through the gated window before marching away.

You dropped down onto the cot, your trembling knees no longer able to support you, letting you collapse.

Seonghwa.

He didn't run away, he became a Sith. All these years worrying and wondering where he was, if he was okay, asking yourself why he left... and he was here.

How did this happen?

It was the question that kept spinning in your mind, echoing repeatedly.

How did this happen?

There was no way Seonghwa, your best friend, the man you secretly liked, had turned to the Dark Side. It didn't make sense. He never showed any desire to cross over, not that you could recall, anyway.

The dull ache in your heart grew in intensity the longer you thought about what your best friend had turned into.

The heavy thump of approaching footsteps made you lift your head, your eyes locking with those of the man you once knew. The door to your cell swung open and he stepped inside, his presence alone shifting the air in the room.

No words were exchanged at first. All you could do was stare at him, taking in the angry lines etched on his otherwise flawless face. His intense eyes stared you down, the scowl on his face not budging. This new version of Seonghwa was jarring to say the least, but he was still someone you used to know.

"So this is where you ran off to." You murmured.

He didn't speak, staring you down in silence. His lack of response was both perplexing and agitating. Did he have nothing to say?

You scoffed, shaking your head as a spark of anger ignited. "I can't believe you." Your expression was full of emotion, rage fueled by sadness and betrayal. It felt like you'd been punched directly in the heart.

Seeing Seonghwa again wasn't the joyous reunion you imagined it would be—it was much worse. Instead of embracing him in a tearful hug, you had been blocking his aggressive attacks and trying to make it out of the battle unscathed.

As Seonghwa stood just inside the cell, the emotions you felt rapidly turned into fiery anger that unfortunately reared it's ugly head.

"You got weak." You spoke through gritted teeth, your fists clenching.

In a fit of sudden rage, you stood up from the cot and charged at Seonghwa with a shout.

Your breath hitched when you felt a pressure around your throat, your wide eyes staring at the man you called your best friend with a gloved hand outstretched and fingers partially curled. A strained noise left your dry mouth as you clawed at your throat futilely, desperate to get rid of the invisible force that constricted your windpipe.

"You're the weak one." Seonghwa spoke, his voice low and threatening as his extended arm lifted higher, his gaze boring holes into you.

"Pl-please." You choked out, your legs kicking as your feet left the floor, black spots dotting your vision.

His hand squeezed more, curling in just another inch or so and applying more crushing pressure to your windpipe.

"Hwa." You whimpered, your voice nothing but a hoarse and whispered plea.

"Don't call me that." He hissed through clenched teeth. "That name died when Luke did. It's Mars now."

That's the last thing you heard before the black creeping in your peripherals took over.

"Do you ever feel like you have a weight to carry?" You asked Seonghwa, gazing up at the star-dotted galaxy above, seated in a cross-legged position on top of the Millennium Falcon. "Like a burden?"

"A burden?" Seonghwa echoed. "You mean like with glorious purpose?"

You sat there for a moment before shaking your head. "No. That's not it. That's someone else." You paused, reconsidering. "Though maybe it is glorious purpose in a way." You murmured mostly to yourself. "Being Luke's only two apprentices is a huge honor, especially since there aren't many Jedi being trained anymore, but do you ever feel you're expected to be this outstanding prodigy? Like you have all these expectations to live up to?"

Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully. "No. I see it more as a goal to reach."

"But do you think it's attainable? Don't you ever worry you won't be good enough?"

"Of course I worry. Everyone does, but I don't think Luke would've chosen us if he didn't think we were capable." Seonghwa turned to you, his hand sliding over to take hold of yours and give it a squeeze. His touch was warm and brought comfort to you almost immediately, chasing away your worries. "Let's switch to a brighter subject, like lightsabers."

You raised your brows, shooting Seonghwa an unimpressed look at his pun.

"That was completely unintentional."

"Whatever you say." You teased.

"Back on the subject, when do you think Luke will let us build our lightsabers?"

"When he thinks we've earned it, I guess."

"I hope it's soon."

You nodded in agreement, turning back to the stars above, your gaze drifting to look at the distant planets surrounding Ajan Kloss.

"You know, one day we're going to be real Jedi." Seonghwa's voice broke you from your daze.

"I know. Despite the lingering worries, I'm looking forward to the day when our training is complete."

"Can you imagine? The two of us going on missions together, tag-teaming the First Order, taking down the Sith." He held his hands out in front of him, holding an imaginary lightsaber as he mimicked its noises, swinging it left and right.

His little performance made you giggle, his laid back and silly personality always bringing a smile to your face.

"Then maybe I'd do one of these." He held his hand out towards the ground below, a small rock lifting from the grass as it was flung off into the night by an invisible force.

You chuckled amusedly. "Always trying to show off those abilities, huh?"

"No." He grinned softly. "But if you and I are ever in battle and someone gets too close to you, I won't hesitate to Force choke them."

His comment jarred you a bit and you shook your head. "We don't do that."

"I know... but I'd do anything to protect you."

A small noise left the back of your throat when your eyes cracked open, your mind fuzzy as you slowly came to. Your eyelids fluttered, blurred by tears which you blinked away, eyes adjusting to the dim holding cell you'd been tossed into earlier. Bringing a hand up, you wiped the small amount of wetness away from your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing when you felt a soreness in your neck. Your hand moved down to your throat, gingerly touching the tender skin, hissing softly at the sensation that followed.

You swallowed back tears that threatened to well up, realizing just how much Seonghwa had changed. He physically hurt you.

Not once did it occur to you that Seonghwa had crossed over to the Dark Side. There wasn't an ounce of evil in him, so it was never a possibility. You just assumed he had given up being a Jedi and went off to another planet to live a life away from the Resistance. Luke's passing hurt both of you and you wouldn't have blamed Seonghwa if he refused to be taught by anyone else.

But that's not what happened.

The Dark Side got to him... or someone.

Seonghwa's eyes watched his superior intently as he paced about the control room, his cape billowing dramatically behind him.

"Why was she here?" The maroon-haired Sith hissed angrily. "How did a Jedi sneak in here?"

"The troopers told me she arrived with someone else on a First Order ship." Seonghwa responded, his hands resting behind his back.

"They have one of our ships?" He spoke through gritted teeth, jaw tightening.

"It appears so."

"Go talk to her. Ask her what she was doing here. Do whatever it takes to get the information if she refuses to talk."

"We have people for that." Seonghwa mentioned, feeling his gut twist uncomfortably at the thought of facing you again.

"I want you to interrogate her. Do you have a problem with that, Mars?"

"No."

"Then do as I say. Interrogate her."

"Yes, Hongjoong."

You sat upright when the door to your cell groaned open, your eyes landing on Seonghwa. Your body moved on its own, scooting back on the cot to put more distance between you both. Perhaps you subconsciously feared him a little now after what he did to you.

He noticed the way you cowered a bit, but his expression remained the same, unchanging and giving away no indications of how it made him feel.

"Why are you here?" He inquired firmly, his voice carrying authority.

His question was met with complete silence. This agitated him, his jaw ticking with annoyance. "Answer me."

"I won't." The words were uttered quietly.

"Why are you here?" He asked again.

You shook your head. "I won't tell you."

Seonghwa lifted his hand and you flinched, waiting for the pressure on your throat. Instead, he lowered his arm, dropping it at his side.

"I know the Resistance sent you." He almost spat the name out in distaste. "Why?"

"You know I'm not gonna tell you."

He let out a small growl, his top lip twitching.

"You're in no position to withhold information from me."

That sparked a bit of annoyance, your almost cowardly behavior changing as you sat up straighter on the cot. "Oh yeah? What about how you withheld information from me?"

Seonghwa's brow twitched at your harsh and sharply-spoken words.

"You didn't think to tell me you were considering running away?"

"Why would I have told you?" His eyes narrowed. "It wasn't your business."

"Because I'm your friend... or at least I was. If something was bothering you, you should've told me."

"Friend?" He scoffed. "You were teacher's pet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play dumb. You were Luke's favorite. He always praised your fighting style and nitpicked mine, said I was too showy and aggressive. Well, I found a place that accepted my fighting style—accepted me."

"Luke accepted you, Seonghwa."

"Don't call me that."

"It's your name."

"Not anymore."

There was a long and heavy silence that followed and it almost felt like, in that time, you were mourning the loss of a friend.

"She what?" General Leia stared wide eyed at Poe who'd just relayed to her that you had been captured.

"They got her."

Leia sighed, lowering her head.

"She planted all the devices though." He added. "So we can listen in and see what they're up to."

She nodded. "We need to start getting a rescue team together for Y/n as soon as possible. Until we're able to bring her back, we see what information we can get from the devices she planted. Pull up the audio." She gestured towards Han Solo, who stood beside her.

He messed with the control panel in front of him, pressing buttons until voices came through.

"What do you mean she won't talk?" An angry male voice questioned.

"She won't tell me why she's here." A second male voice spoke, this one deeper than the first. "She refused."

Leia's brows twitched as she and Han shared a look, both of them finding the voice familiar.

"I told you do whatever it takes to get her to talk." The first male continued, sounding more vexed than a few moments prior.

"I—"

"Does this Jedi girl mean something to you, Mars? Are you going soft?"

"No." The response was firm and clipped.

Han reached up to rub at his scruff contemplatively, his mouth downturned in a deep frown. "I know that voice."

Leia turned to him in silent question. She also recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it.

Han sighed, dropping his hand. "It's Seonghwa."

Three days passed, or what you assumed was days. It was hard to tell. Seonghwa continuously came back to question you, sometimes multiple times a day. You refused every time, not daring to give away any information. He often became irate at your refusal and stubbornness, but he never harmed you again.

Seonghwa stood on the opposite side of your small cell, arms crossed and thick brows tugged together, that same scowl on his face.

"You were sent here by the Resistance. Why?"

"You're the one giving them information on our base, aren't you?" You responded to his question with one of your own.

Being locked away, you had time to think. And now that you knew Seonghwa was a Sith and the First Order was working on finding the Resistance base, it only made sense that your old pal was helping and possibly feeding them information.

"No." He denied firmly, his reaction almost coming across as offended that you'd assume such a thing.

"What do you mean no?"

"I haven't told them anything." He hissed through gritted teeth.

That made you pause, whatever response you had prepared died in your throat the second that sentence left his mouth.

"Why?" Was the only word uttered.

"I'm asking the questions here. Why were you sent here? Did Leia send you?"

Your expression hardened, but Seonghwa saw right through it.

He scoffed. "I knew it."

A sharp puff of air expelled from your nostrils as you mentally cursed yourself for not denying it right away. Though there's no telling if he would've believed you or not, especially if he claimed to already know.

"Why did she send you? Why were you lurking the halls?"

"I won't tell you. I'm loyal to the Resistance and I won't do anything to put them in danger."

"Of course you won't." Scoffed Seonghwa again, your answer not surprising. "How loyal of you." His words were laced with venom and mockery as he spat them out.

It made an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach, wondering what lies they fed your friend to make him so full of loathing.

Every interrogation ended with Seonghwa storming out of your cell in a fit of rage, reporting back to Hongjoong with no new information and receiving a harsh verbal assault in return. It was a repetitive pattern and one the former Jedi was growing tired of.

"It's been a week." Hongjoong hissed out, pacing the control room. "And you still have no information for me."

"She refuses to speak."

"Perhaps she needs someone more forceful."

"No!" Seonghwa took a step towards Hongjoong to block him as he attempted to exit the room. He then cleared his throat before repeating in a more stern and confident manner, "No. I have it under control."

"If you had it under control you would've tortured her until she spilled. Then I wouldn't be waiting for intel. I'll interrogate her."

Seonghwa side stepped again. "I said I have it under control." He doubled down on his words.

Hongjoong's expression hardened, his intense gaze searching Seonghwa's face for what felt like an eternity before speaking.

"Three days. If you haven't given me any useful information by then, I'm stepping in."

"Yes, Hongjoong."

The following day, Seonghwa was back in your cell, staring at you with the same stony expression. "When will you give up?"

"Never."

"Tch." He scoffed at your never-ending defiance.

"Why do you keep grilling me?"

"Because you're the prisoner here and my superior wants to know why you were sneaking around the ship like a little womp rat."

Your features twitched in mild agitation at his slightly stinging words. "How do you feel knowing your buddies are trying to track down the location of our home?"

Seonghwa scowled and crossed his arms. "It's not our home."

"It is. You still have a place there, Seonghwa."

"Quit calling me that." He hissed out through gritted teeth.

The room grew quiet and you were left to sit in complete silence for a few moments until you spoke up again with another query.

"You know where the Resistance base is. Why haven't you told them?" You asked, knowing that if he relayed that information to his superiors, the First Order would've already attacked Ajan Kloss by now.

Seonghwa stiffened almost imperceptibly and you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't focused on his body language.

"That's not my business."

"Oh but it is. It's your former home, as you claim, so wether you're willing to accept it or not, you have ties to it. If you despise the Jedi so much why haven't you exposed us?" You questioned pointedly. "Why haven't you given away our whereabouts and watched our planet get destroyed?"

It was clear he was growing indignant, his sharp brows tugging closer together, forming eleven lines between them—a sign he was provoked by your words.

"I'll be back to question you again tomorrow. You'd better be ready to give me what I want or it won't end well for you, Y/n." There was an undertone of foreboding in his words as he turned on the heel of his boot and exited the cell, his black cape billowing behind him.

He paused just outside the room, his dark eyes turning to stare at you through the gated window for a moment before he walked away.

Seonghwa paced around his room, tugging frustratingly at his hair while having an internal battle with himself. Why? Why hadn't he told Hongjoong or anyone on the ship about the Resistance base when he'd been actively watching them follow leads and attempting to track down the group? He knows the location. Not only that, but he's had multiple opportunities to divulge that he knows who you are, yet he's kept his mouth shut. He could've easily said something, so why hadn't he?

His ambivalence on the matter was making his head ache. On one hand, he had grown to loathe the Resistance with every fiber of his being and would do anything to destroy them, but on the other... no.

Seonghwa shook his head, gripping at his hair out of agitation while dropping down to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Don't be weak." He gritted out.

There is no "on the other hand". He despised the Resistance. He didn't care about anyone there.

A ghostly giggle echoed in his mind, your giggle, one he remembered from the past. Along with it came a flash of you sitting across from him with a bright smile on your face, then a fleeting image of Master Luke.

Seonghwa gave an angry shout, standing up and withdrawing his lightsaber, activating the red beam that hummed when extended fully. His shoulders heaved up and down with each labored breath while his eyes scanned the empty bedroom.

His weapon lowered. No one was there. What was he trying to fight? His past?

The lightsaber was deactivated and Seonghwa slowly sat back down on his bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. His grip on the hilt of his saber tightened as his mind wandered back to you. He had to get information out of you or Hongjoong would step in and he didn't want that.

As soon as the revelation passed his conscious mind, Seonghwa froze. Why did he care wether or not Hongjoong interrogated you? He shook his head as if to push away any notions that he still cared for you. He didn't—did he?

"Why did you have to show up, huh?" Seonghwa asked pointedly the next day while trying to interrogate you once again. It was the first question he asked when he entered your prison cell.

"I'm sorry?"

"You've just made everything more complicated!" He spat, letting his emotions run rampant.

Perplexed, baffled, caught off guard—any one of those words or phrases could've described how you felt in that moment. What did he mean?

"I was doing just fine without you." He added, the harshness in his tone unwavering.

You recoiled at his words, murmuring, "I don't understand."

"Of course you wouldn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is your fault!" He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

Your wide eyes locked on the tip of his index finger that was directed at you.

"What's my fault? Seonghwa, I—"

He let out a raging shout that reverberated on the metal walls. "There you go again! Just stop!" He dropped his head, gripping handfuls of inky hair, letting out strained sounds through his teeth. His inner turmoil was showing through his aggressive responses and bouts of fury.

"Talk to me." Your gentle words reached Seonghwa's ears, striking him directly in the chest.

Instead of being snippy with your words, you toned it down, especially after witnessing his display of stress. It didn't matter if he was a Sith. That fact didn't erase any of the memories you shared together and you still thought of him as a friend—or at the very least, a friend that could be redeemed.

The kindness in your voice touched Seonghwa, but at the same time it was making things worse for him, leaving him torn between two opposing emotions.

"I left that life behind." He said, his head still buried in his hands. "Seeing you just... stirred things up."

Ever so slowly, you got up off the cot and took a few tentative steps towards him. He didn't realize you were approaching, too caught up in his own emotions. It was only when he felt your hand gently touch his shoulder that he flinched, raising his head.

"Why'd you leave? What happened?" You asked.

"I was upset." He sighed. "I tried to get my anger out by blowing off steam in the training room but that wasn't enough. So I stole a junky ship and took it out to a nearby planet just to get away from everything for a bit." His eyes showed just how much he was struggling as he spoke.

"Go on." You urged him. "I know you might not think so, but you're still my friend."

His eyes met yours, a flicker of warmth growing in his chest and giving him that little push to continue. "I was walking through a little town trying to clear my head when Hongjoong approached me."

"Who's Hongjoong?"

"My superior." He ran a hand through his long messy hair. "He knew right away that I was a Jedi. He took me into a nearby tavern and bought me a drink. We talked. I told him about Master Luke and how it was frustrating sometimes because I felt as if I wasn't enough. He was so... sympathetic. He made me feel important and told me he would be a better teacher than Luke and that I had untapped potential—that I had purpose Luke didn't see."

"He got to you while you were vulnerable." You stated, shaking your head. "He got into your head, Seonghwa."

"No." His brows creased, eyes narrowing as he responded in a stern manner, jerking away from your hand on his shoulder. "He didn't. When he took me in I was able to fight the way I wanted. I got stronger when Hongjoong trained me."

You shook your head. "He manipulated you."

"He didn't." Seonghwa denied firmly. "Because of him, I realized my purpose."

Your expression fell into one of pity and sorrow as you shook your head, realizing just how badly this Hongjoong guy had warped your old friend's way of thinking.

"I shouldn't expect you to understand." Seonghwa remarked bitterly. "You're a narrow-minded Jedi."

His words hurt, punching you directly in the chest. You really thought you were getting somewhere with him.

"This was a mistake." He grumbled, turning to leave. He let himself get too vulnerable.

"Seong—" The cell door slammed shut, making you wince. "...hwa."

Heaving a sigh, you slumped back against the wall in defeat. You almost caught a glimpse of the old Seonghwa. He was opening up, but he still believed Hongjoong was the good guy in this situation. The hold he had on Seonghwa was too strong and you needed to break it.

The Sith's footsteps were heavy, each thump from his boots echoing down the corridor while a violent storm of thoughts swirled around his head. You were so sweet and genuine, it almost reminded him of how things used to be. And that gentle touch of your hand on his shoulder sparked something.

You're getting weak. He could practically hear Hongjoong. Are you really going to let her get to you with all that mushy stuff?

"No."

Seems that way.

Seonghwa's jaw tightened as if this were all happening in real life.

"I said no."

You're still in love with her, Mars.

"I'm not."

He passed by a couple stormtroopers standing guard on that particular cell block, their heads following the Sith as he passed, muttering to himself.

"What are you looking at?" He snarled at the staring pair, his hand raising as a threat to use his Force abilities on them.

"Nothing." They shook their heads frantically.

"Thought so." He spat, continuing down the corridor.

That night was a sleepless one for Seonghwa. He tossed and turned for what was probably hours, unable to even doze off. Tossing back his black sheets, he swung his legs off the bed, letting out a forceful sigh. You really messed with his head... and his heart. He could still feel the way you laid your hand so gingerly upon his shoulder.

He got to his feet and shuffled over to a wooden chest at the foot of his bed, opening the lid and reaching inside, producing your lightsaber from it. After he had you taken away, he picked up the saber and had been keeping it in his bedroom, unable to hand it over to the seized weapons department for some reason. He gazed down almost wistfully at the silver hilt adorned with unique engravings. His thumb absentmindedly traced over the patterns engrained into the metal while his mind wandered back to a memory that had long been locked away.

"Place the energy core near the kyber crystal." Luke instructed, watching you and Seonghwa.

The components of your lightsabers were scattered along the work table as each of you focused on building your respective weapons, listening to each step you were given.

"Next is the focusing ring. Make sure it's calibrated just right or—"

"Or the kyber crysal will crack." You and Seonghwa finished in unison, chuckling in amusement at the situation.

"Yes, or your sabers could explode when you activate them." Luke added.

The pieces were put into place and you moved on to the next step, adding each component until the assembly was complete. Next came the cosmetic aspects of the process, the step that would give your lightsabers their unique appearances.

The both of you were taught how to customize your weapons with Luke by your side to assist when needed. This ritual of sorts meant a lot to you and Seonghwa, as it was a rite of passage, a symbol that you had grown as Jedi.

"I hope my lightsaber is blue." Seonghwa murmured once the assembly was complete, always having favored that color.

"There's only one way to find out." You placed your thumb on the power button of your saber and counted down before activating your respective weapons.

Just as Seonghwa had hoped, a blue beam extended from his hilt and his eyes went wide with excitement. He then turned to look at your humming blade that glowed a unique purple.

"Not many people have that color." He gaped.

Your round eyes stared at the stunning beam in awe, unable to believe that the weapon you wielded was yours.

Seonghwa felt the same, gaping at his own lightsaber, feeling it's weight and ogling at the shiny chrome silver metal of the hilt.

"I'm glad I got to do this with you." You turned and smiled fondly at Seonghwa, your eyes glimmering with unadulterated joy.

He returned that warm grin. "Me too."

A single tear dropped onto the handle of your lightsaber, stirring Seonghwa from his nostalgic daze. He blinked away some of the moisture in his eyes before wiping them, not realizing he had started crying.

He still cared for you.

He still loved you.

Today. Seonghwa had to get answers today or Hongjoong would step in and take matters into his own hands. He decided last night when he couldn't sleep that he didn't want that to happen and he would do whatever it took to get the necessary information out of you.

"How many days has it been?" You asked when you heard the door groan open, your back facing it.

"Ten." Seonghwa responded, standing just inside the room as he'd been doing since day one. "I'm asking again, why were you on the ship? Why were you sent here?"

You rolled over, your expression weary. "So we're back to this?"

Seonghwa didn't answer, his expression showing hardly any emotion. He was there with a task to complete.

"Tell me." He wasn't demanding or hateful, but there was a tinge of urgency in his tone.

You sat up, pushing back your hair with a sigh. "Can we just drop this for a second?"

He appeared unsure, but let out a reluctant exhale and moved across the small space to sit beside you on the bed. It was the first time he'd done so since you were locked away.

"I missed you, y'know." You didn't care if he believed you or not. You had to let him know.

His gaze lifted to meet yours, his eyes becoming round just like your memories recalled.

"It hurt me when you disappeared. I had just lost Master Luke and then I lost you not long after. It crushed me." Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke. "I always wondered where you were. I worried about you. I lost sleep over you. I never once thought you'd turn to the Dark Side."

"Neither did I, but I fit well here."

"No you don't. That Hongjoong guy got to you while you were vulnerable and took advantage of your weak state. He got in your head and made you feel special. He doesn't care about you like he says he does."

"And how would you know?"

"Because he's a Sith and they're known for being conniving and manipulative."

Seonghwa became quiet, not fully believing your words about Hongjoong being disingenuous, but feeling as if he shouldn't carelessly disregard them either. Despite that, a sense of urgency to defend his superior rose up within him. "Hongjoong was there for me and picked me up when I was at my lowest."

"I could have done that. I would have done that if you hadn't left."

Seonghwa's jaw tightened as an uncomfortable ache became present in his chest. Perhaps guilt?

"I loved you, Seonghwa."

Those next words were a punch directly to the gut, the breath feeling like it was knocked out of him. You loved him? For how long?

He swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky. "Why did Leia send you here? To collect information? To spy?" Again, his tone wasn't demanding, but it was stern.

It hurt not having him respond to your admission, but instead of letting it get to you, you pushed aside your feelings and looked him in the eye. "I won't betray the Resistance. You can keep me here as long as you see fit, but I won't say a word."

It was obvious you didn't realize the magnitude of the situation, but Seonghwa remained somewhat calm, hoping a more gentle approach would coax it out of you.

"You don't trust me anymore?"

"No." Your response was swift. "I don't. You're the enemy now."

"But you said you still saw me as a friend."

"There's exceptions to that statement."

He was getting nowhere with you yet again. However, you did open up about how you felt when he ran away so perhaps there was hope.

"Fine." He stood up and left without another word, hoping to get more time to interrogate.

Hongjoong was discussing something with one of the navigators on the ship when Seonghwa approached. "Ah, Mars." He strode towards his apprentice. "I hope you have good news for me."

"I'm getting through to her."

The redhead's expression fell into one of disappointment and annoyance. "So you haven't got any information out of her?"

"I'm trying to. I've taken a different approach and she's coming around."

"But you still haven't got any information out of her." He stated factually.

"No, not yet. I just need one more d—"

Hongjoong's jaw tightened and he held his hand up, Seonghwa's breath hitching as he was forced aside, the invisible pressure around his throat increasing.

"Three days, I said."

"I... know." Seonghwa choked out.

"I gave you three days and you still have absolutely nothing. You're useless, Mars." He spat out.

Seonghwa gasped for air, his booted feet slipping along the flooring while he was being held slightly off the ground.

Hongjoong released his invisible grip on Seonghwa who fell to his knees, leaned over his hands which were planted on the floor as he took in ragged breaths.

Looking around, he saw some of the control room staff turned in their seats staring at him as he lie crumpled and weak on the floor. Meanwhile, Hongjoong was talking to a stormtrooper as if he hadn't Force strangled his apprentice. In that moment, as he was struggling to bring air back into his lungs he realized you were right. Hongjoong didn't care about him.

You're useless, Mars. The words echoed in his mind on repeat.

"Take me to her cell." Hongjoong's voice reached Seonghwa's ears, causing him to lift his head. "If you want things to get done you have to do them yourself." He complained to the trooper, taking a glance back at Seonghwa with a demeaning expression.

"Wait!" He coughed.

The maroon-haired Sith paused and turned to look down at Seonghwa who was just managing to get to his feet.

"You said three days. The day isn't over yet." He spoke hoarsely, but kept a steady tone so as not to give away how his lungs burned.

"Alright. I want results by the end of the day."

The door to your cell opened up and to your surprise, it was Seonghwa again. He sometimes showed up multiple times a day to interrogate you, but never this quickly. It had only been about ten minutes since he left.

He was rubbing at his throat with a gloved hand, his eyes looking frantic.

Something was wrong.

"Seonghwa?"

"Look, I need you to give me a reason as to why you were sent." There was that sense of urgency in his tone again, more obvious than earlier. And he didn't even snap at you for calling him by his real name.

"What happened?"

"Things won't be good for you if you don't cooperate." He ignored your question and you noticed how scratchy his voice sounded.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

"He hurt you."

Seonghwa stiffened and you knew your assumption was correct.

"You have to tell me, Y/n." His gaze turned serious and the desperation in his tone rose. "If you don't..." He hesitated to continue, but did so anyway. "Hongjoong is going to interrogate you instead and he won't be gentle or kind."

You'd known Seonghwa since you were kids and could tell when he was worried, but this wasn't worry—this was fear. All this time you'd refused to speak and all it took for you to crack was for Seonghwa to be in distress.

"I was planting listening devices." You caved, spilling almost immediately.

"Where?"

"In the West corridor near the hangar, in a meeting room, and in the control room where the ship is piloted."

His eyes met yours, turmoil and concern swirling around his brown irises. "I'm sorry it had to be like this."

And that was the last thing he said before turning away and leaving.

"I have news." Seonghwa announced, entering the control room.

Hongjoong turned towards him, an expectant look on his face.

"She cracked."

"It's about time."

"The Resistance base is on Takodana."

"Takodana?" Hongjoong repeated, raising a brow. "She told you that?"

"Yes."

"It's not the information I asked for."

"But it's helpful to us. It's what we've been working towards for weeks." Seonghwa mentioned.

"That's true." Hongjoong gazed out at the vast galaxy.

"Who cares why she was on the ship? We have their location."

Hongjoong nodded, murmuring, "Takodana, huh? Why didn't I think of that? It's a forest planet; the perfect place to go off the grid."

"Exactly."

Hongjoong snapped his fingers, beckoning the First Order's battle coordinator over. "I want you to send a fleet to Takadona right away." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." The man nodded before marching off.

Hongjoong passed Seonghwa, stopping long enough to say, "Maybe you can be useful after all."

His watchful eyes followed the redhead until he left the room before he made any moves of his own, exiting the control area and heading directly for the meeting room.

There was only one room on the ship used for meetings and Seonghwa knew exactly where it was.

Slipping into the empty meeting room, he surveyed the area, checking in crevices and corners before peeking underneath the large circular table in the middle of the area. Sure enough, there was a small device no bigger than the tip of his finger under the edge of the table. Stepping away, he began pacing around, mulling over the gravity of what he was about to do. Taking in a deep breath, Seonghwa prepared himself for what he was about to say, knowing it would change everything.

"I don't know who's listening to this but I need your help. It's me..." He hesitated. "Seonghwa. I don't have time to explain everything but I've just told my superior the Resistance base is on Takodana. They're sending a fleet of troopers that way immediately. Reinforcements here will be low. I need you guys to come and get Y/n out of here." He paused before adding. "Get us out of here. I'm ready to come home."

With a call for help sent out and no time to waste, he could only hope someone was listening as he left the room and put his plan into motion.

He didn't greet you or say a single word when he stepped back into your cell, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back.

"Come here."

You yelped as you were jerked to your feet.

"Seonghwa? What's going on?" You panicked, wiggling in his hold.

"Be quiet." He hissed, shoving you out the door and down the cell block corridor, stormtroopers watching as he passed.

One of them blocked the way. "What are you doing with her?"

"We've obtained the information we need. She's of no use to us anymore." He responded coldly to the trooper's inquiry.

Every part of your body ran cold upon hearing that and you started writhing even more.

"No! No! Please don't do this!" You cried out.

"I said be quiet!" Seonghwa jerked you harshly before pushing you down the halls once more.

Your breathing was erratic, your hands cold and clammy. Were you really going to die by the hands of your old friend?

Not a single word was spoken while you were guided through the maze that was the First Order ship, awaiting your demise. You were brought to a room and shoved inside, Seonghwa releasing your wrists and caging you against the wall before you could even process it.

"You don't know what you're doing." You spoke shakily. "Please don't kill me. I—"

Seonghwa's lips pressed firmly against yours, effectively cutting off your sentence. A small noise left the back of your throat, your hands pressing against his chest as you fought to keep your eyes from fluttering shut.

He pulled away shortly with a heavy exhale and half-lidded eyes that gazed at you with longing.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Your heart leapt into your throat as he verbally returned your feelings.

"You're... you're not gonna kill me?"

"What? No." He shook his head. "That was just so I didn't raise any suspicions. We're getting out of here."

"We are?" You uttered so quietly you barely heard yourself.

"Yes. This isn't the life for me, Y/n. I miss the Resistance. I miss you. Maybe I was a weak Sith—or maybe my love for you was stronger than the hold of the Dark Side."

"Seonghwa." Taking the sides of his face, you pulled him to your lips, kissing him deeply, this time letting your eyelids slide shut while relishing in the warmth of his mouth.

When you pulled away, he had to blink himself out of the little daze he was in.

"Wow."

"We'd better get out of here alive." You said.

"We will. Just play along."

You nodded. "Got it."

He took your wrists and held them behind your back again to keep up the facade and led you out of the room, back into the ship's corridor. He didn't know how quickly a rescue team could get out there, but if no one had arrived by the time he made it to the hangar, Seonghwa would hijack a ship and get you both out himself.

Your eyes scanned the halls, attempting to look pitiful and helpless when passing stormtroopers or staff. On the inside, however, you were elated that Seonghwa returned your feelings and decided to return to Ajan Kloss with you. Though there was the lingering anxiety of needing to get out safely first. You were still in enemy territory—you both were.

The two of you rounded a corner, nearly running into a man with maroon hair that you didn't recognize, you and Seonghwa taking a few steps back. There was an intimidating  aura about the stranger that made you nervous just by looking at him. His eyes narrowed and he turned to your partner.

"This is the Jedi that snuck onto the ship. Why is she out of her cell, Mars? I didn't approve of this."

"We've got the information we need. I'm disposing of her."

You assumed this was the Hongjoong guy you'd been told about and was quick to lower your gaze to the floor, trying to appear non-threatening.

"And why would you dispose of her?"

As they exchanged words, Seonghwa could tell he wouldn't be able to pull this one off. Hongjoong was asking too many questions and wondering why Seonghwa was making decisions on his own without consulting him first.

You too were feeling as if things were about to go south and began worrying about how to defend yourself. It was at that moment you felt something cool being pressed into your palm that was behind your back. Your fingers curled around the object and realized it was a lightsaber—your lightsaber.

"What's really going on here?" Hongjoong inquired. "You've been odd since this little Jedi showed up." He regarded you with a curt jerk of his head, not bothering to look your way.

"I already told you, I'm disposing of her."

"See..." Hongjoong's hand imperceptibly inched towards his lightsaber at his hip. "I just don't think I believe you."

Your eyes widened and you were quick to reveal your lightsaber, activating the purple beam that hummed to life just as Hongjoong withdrew his own weapon. Seonghwa was holding out his lightsaber as well, ready to fight by your side.

"Ah." Sardonic amusement flickered across Hongjoong's features at the sight of his apprentice. "I see. You've switched sides."

Seonghwa's expression hardened and he pointed the end of his red lightsaber at the man. "I'm not afraid to fight you."

"Well you should be." Hongjoong spoke roughly before stepping forward and taking a swipe at both of you.

Leaping back, you two dodged his attack, retaliating with some of your own, both of you swinging your weapons at the Sith who was able to block every single one. You attempted to take a jab at him, but his red beam came up underneath your purple one and pushed it away, making you stumble at the physical force behind the action. He twisted his upper body and held his saber up to block an attack from Seonghwa that followed after yours.

It was clear this man was well-trained and even though he was outnumbered, he was managing to fight both you and Seonghwa without much of a struggle. Taking a step back to put some space between you and the enemy, you continued fighting back.

As soon as he saw an opening, Seonghwa took hold of your wrist. "Come on." He hissed urgently and tugged you down the ship's dim corridors in the opposite direction, fleeing the area.

"You're running away like a coward, Mars!" Hongjoong shouted after him.

"Where are we going?" You asked, pushing past a stormtrooper that stood in the way.

"Get them!" Hongjoong roared in the distance.

"Somewhere away from him." Seonghwa responded, keeping a tight hold on your wrist while guiding you through the steel and metal maze.

While your first priority was to survive, questions started piling up. Questions like: Would you survive? Would you even make it off the ship? Would you ever get back home?

"Here." You were snapped out of your daze by Seonghwa's voice as you were pulled into an open space, a grated walkway stretching across an endless canyon.

Unable to see the bottom of the foggy abyss below, your heart rate spiked.

"Hey, it's alright. Just stay close." Seonghwa gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, hurrying across the bridge. "We can still make it to the hangar from here."

"There you are."

You both froze at the sound of Hongjoong's voice, spinning around to face him as he approached with an intense and almost psychotic look in his sharp eyes.

"Stay back." Seonghwa was quick to push you behind him and rush forward to engage in battle with his ex mentor. You leaned against the railing of the grated walkway, looking on with wide eyes.

Seonghwa let out a grunt when Hongjoong's saber clashed with his, pushing against it. With clenched teeth and trembling hands, he shoved back and managed to get Hongjoong off of him. The Sith let out a low sound of disproval and swung once more, relentlessly attacking Seonghwa and giving him no time to fight back. All he could do was block and guard himself from the onslaught. You couldn't stand watching the battle persist without you. There was no telling how long Seonghwa could maintain his defenses until he was worn out. With no one to watch his back or help take the pressure off, you feared he wouldn't make it out of the fight unscathed.

"What happened? You used to beat me all the time during our practice battles." Hongjoong talked down to Seonghwa in a derisive tone.

The ex Sith let out a low noise from the back of his throat while taking a swing at the redhead who merely leaned back to avoid the humming beam of light.

"You're weakened already." He remarked snidely. "Do you really want to go back to being a spineless Jedi?"

Instead of responding, Seonghwa narrowed his eyes and took another swing at Hongjoong only for him to dodge again.

"You belong here."

"I don't!" He snapped. "I never did."

"I took you in."

"You took advantage of me!"

"And you became a powerful Sith because of it. So you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" Scoffed Seonghwa. "For what? Turning me into an evil monster?"

Hongjoong let out a huff of amusement. "For showing you your true potential, Mars. So tell me, are you with me or against me?"

"My name is Seonghwa." He grit out through his teeth.

"Very well. Chitchat is over." Hongjoong used his foot to kick Seonghwa back, his body colliding with the steel flooring of the bridge. A grunt was forced out of him, his deactivated lightsaber now lying by Hongjoong's foot.

"You don't need this anymore." He said, kicking the weapon off the side of the walkway and into the abyss below.

"No. Stop!" You shouted, rushing towards the two, unable to stand by any longer. You didn't care if Seonghwa told you to stay back, he needed your help.

Hongjoong held up his free hand, a powerful force pushing you back so vigorously you were sent through the air. You yelped, landing roughly on the grates as your lightsaber skidded across the platform. The breath was knocked out of you during impact, your throat and lungs attempting to work correctly again while you gasped for air.

"This is what happens when you betray me, Mars." Hongjoong spoke in an eery singsong voice.

Your eyes widened as he moved to stand over Seonghwa, lightsaber positioned and ready to strike. A sudden burst of energy and determination hit you as well as a wave of burning hatred towards the maroon-haired Sith, fueling your need to protect Seonghwa.

Your hand shot out towards your deactivated weapon, wheezing and coughing as you focused your energy. The saber shot from its position at the edge of the bridge and straight into your palm. Gripping the hilt of the lightsaber, you got to your feet and rushed over.

"This is the end for you." Hongjoong reared back and went to swing his glowing blade down on Seonghwa. As he did so, your purple beam was thrust forward, blocking his before it could even get close to doing any damage.

"What?" Hongjoong hissed out, his eyes drifting up to meet yours that burned with rage.

"I don't think so." You spoke lowly, pushing upwards and using your lightsaber to shove his away.

Seonghwa stared up at you in both shock and awe, using the opportunity to scramble back out of the crossfire as you went after Hongjoong with vigor.

"Do. Not. Come. Near. Him." You spat out between attacks, punctuating your words with each clash of your blades.

"Oh. Well, this is certainly interesting." Hongjoong chuckled over the sounds of battle.

Your lightsabers made that familiar electric sound as they collided, swinging in every direction possible. Any time you saw an opening, you went for it, even if Hongjoong blocked. There was no pattern to your attacks, just endless swipes and vicious swings.

"You took him away from me!" You raged, slinging your lightsaber at him while he struggled to fight back. "Three years!"

He stumbled while trying to back away, blocking your relentless hits.

A flicker of panic flashed across Hongjoong's face as you continued to shout at him and deliver swing after swing. Up until that point, he had defended himself and didn't show an ounce of fear. Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to go into a blind rage, but seeing him preparing to end Seonghwa's life kicked you into gear.

Your saber came at him from the side, which he deflected, but you didn't care, redirecting and taking a different approach. He hissed when you managed to swipe at his arm, tearing the fabric of his sleeve and slicing his skin underneath.

"Look at you trying to defend your boyfriend. Such mindless violence. You would've made a good Sith." Hongjoong grunted out while trying to provoke you despite the fact that you clearly had the upper hand.

"Shut up." You grit out, slinging the purple beam you wielded at his leg, causing him to yelp in pain, pressing his free hand to his calf where the fresh cut was.

"I'm impressed." He panted heavily, looking up at you. "You're putting up quite the fight."

He tightened his hold on his lightsaber as your eyes narrowed. The humming beam in his grip came barreling towards you, making you jump back. He gave you no time to retaliate, coming at you again. At the last second, you held your hand out, fingers outstretched as his weapon came to a stop in midair just a few inches from you. The heat radiating from the blazing light brushed your palm, but it wasn't enough to deter you. Hongjoong's cocky expression fell, his eyes darting between you and your hand which was keeping his lightsaber in place. He pushed down, trying to complete his action, his brows pulling together at the effort and exertion. Your hardened gaze stayed locked on the Sith as you moved your open hand forward, forcing the beam further away until you pushed it aside. He stumbled back, releasing a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.

"Not bad... for a Jedi."

Your jaw tightened at his backhanded comment. "You talk too much."

Blinded by anger, your free hand shot out, using the Force to launch him backwards across the bridge and all the way into the halls of the ship where he landed harshly against a wall. He winced upon impact, sliding down and crumpling on the floor in a heap.

The adrenaline coursing through you slowly started to wear off, your shoulders heaving up and down with each breath.

"I thought Jedi didn't Force choke?" Seonghwa asked amusedly from behind you while getting to his feet, referring back to something you said to him years ago.

"That was a Force push. There's a difference." You remarked with a small grin, deactivating your lightsaber and sliding it into its holster.

"That was... kinda hot."

You turned to him as he came to stand by your side, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. "Was it?"

"It was." He confirmed, taking your hand. "Now let's get out of here."

The both of you hurried across the grated walkway and past Hongjoong's unconscious form, heading back the way you came, your footsteps thumping against the metal floors.

"Hongjoong ordered a fleet of ships to Takodana." Seonghwa mentioned while you moved down the halls. "There won't be as many reinforcements here, so we should be able to make it to the hangar without too much trouble."

"Takodana?" You echoed confusedly.

"I told him that's where the Resistance base was."

A fluttery feeling blossomed in your chest. He lied to his mentor to protect the Resistance members.

"Thank you."

He gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand. "You're welcome."

After turning a corner, you were met with a cluster of stormtroopers that jumped into action and began blasting at both of you the moment you were spotted.

Seonghwa grabbed you, tugging you around the corner and out of the line of fire.

"Well, this is a problem." You breathed out heavily. "We're outnumbered and you don't have a weapon."

"Yeah. Though we might be able to make it if we make a run for it and do our best to dodge. Their aim is horrible anyway."

"Not if we're close enough to shoot." You pointed out.

While you and Seonghwa were strategizing, the thud of something heavy falling to the floor came from where the stormtroopers were, followed by another thud and another. Preceding each thump was the sound of a blaster of some sort, but it was different than that of a trooper. The rap of footsteps heading your way made you both tense up and prepare to defend yourselves until a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Someone call a rescue team?" Han Solo asked with a grin.

"Han." You let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh of relief. "How did you know we needed help?"

"Seonghwa told us using one of the listening devices you planted."

"You heard me?" He asked, relieved that his call for help didn't fall on deaf ears.

"We were listening the whole time. We had a team of Resistance members monitoring the audio at all times." Han responded. "Now let's get you two outta here."

He beckoned you both forward, bringing you around the corner to find stormtroopers scattered about on the floor, each of them sporting one or more holes in their chests, their armor marred by burn marks.

"You took them all out by yourself?" You asked, stepping over one of the bodies.

"I've had lots of practice, kid." Han responded, moving on down the corridor.

The three of you jogged through the halls, proceeding quickly while sweeping the area. Your escape wasn't an easy one as more stormtroopers came up from the opposite direction, blocking the way.

"Stop right there!" One of them shouted, holding his blaster.

Han Solo pointed his own gun at the group of armor-clad troopers while you activated your lightsaber again. When they saw you were going to put up a fight, an onslaught of red plasma blasts blurred past. You moved in, ducking and dodging shots while taking a swing at the nearest stormtrooper's legs. He shouted in pain and fell to the ground, giving Han an opportunity to take him down while he was vulnerable.

Seonghwa, weaponless, used his Force abilities to push away the troopers that got too close, shoving them into one another. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to stop them.

"Hey, kid!" Han Solo called out to Seonghwa. "Thought you might need this so I brought it just in case." His glossy chrome lightsaber was tossed over. "Found it in Y/n's room."

Seonghwa's eyes widened, looking at you with surprise. You were about to ask Han why he was even in your room to start with, but Seonghwa spoke before you could.

"You kept my lightsaber in your room?"

Your cheeks were set aflame at his question before you shot one back at him without thinking. "Where were you keeping mine, huh?"

Now it was Seonghwa's turn to become flustered, his ears turning red.

Oh.

"Now's not the time for all this." Han spoke gruffly, using his blaster to hit a stormtrooper.

"Sorry." You and Seonghwa spoke in unison, his blue lightsaber activating.

A smile that couldn't be suppressed no matter how hard you tried spread across your face, a wave of nostalgia and joy filling you at the sight of him. It was just like old times.

Seonghwa lunged forward with a shout, you following behind with renewed vigor as you both went at the stormtroopers, knocking their blasters out of their hands and swinging your sabers, slicing through their armor easily. Any troopers you or Seonghwa didn't get were swiftly shot down by Han.

"I think that's all of them." You huffed out.

"Well then let's get out of here before more show up." Han Solo nodded with his head, urging you and Seonghwa forward.

Much to your relief, the three of you made it to the hangar where thankfully no stormtroopers were lingering about. Your feet moved faster, following behind Han to the opening of the hangar, looking around for his ship.

"Where's—"

His loud whistling cut you off as he waved his arm in the air, signaling something out in space. Seconds later, the Millennium Falcon came flying around the back of the First Order vessel.

"Step back." Han ordered as the Falcon eased into the hangar, the loading ramp extending from the bottom. "Come on, come on." He ushered you and Seonghwa up into the ship where you both followed him to the cockpit where Chewie was manning the controls.

Chewbacca stood up so Han could take his place, a joyous noise leaving him when he saw Seonghwa standing there beside you. He was immediately pulled into a big hug by the Wookie who was elated at the long-awaited reunion.

"I missed you too." Seonghwa chuckled, patting Chewbacca's back.

You too were pulled into a tight embrace, laughter bubbling up out of you.

"It's good to see you, big guy." You told Chewie, pulling away.

"Alright everyone, buckle up and hold tight. We're getting the heck outta here." Han Solo said.

Seonghwa's return to Ajan Kloss was a momentous occasion; he was welcomed back with open arms and firm handshakes, but not from Leia. From Leia, he received a suffocatingly tight hug.

"We're happy to have you back." She murmured tearfully, smiling up at Seonghwa. "And thank you for your distress call. Han insisted on being the one to bring you two back."

"Really?" You asked.

"Yes. We were getting a rescue plan together but it wasn't ready to be executed. As soon as we heard the call for help, Han started prepping to leave right away."

"Y/n, you're alive!"

You turned to see Poe walking over with Finn following behind.

"No thanks to you." You teased, giving him a hug.

"Hey now, I came right back here and told everyone you'd been captured." He defended lightheartedly, his eyes drifting to your friend standing beside you. "Ah. You must be Seonghwa! This girl right here talks about you nonstop. I wish I knew where Seonghwa was. I hope Seonghwa comes back. You would've liked Seonghwa. I hope we find—"

"Okay." Finn came up, chuckling awkwardly and grabbing Poe by the shoulders, slowly pulling him away. "That's enough out of you."

To celebrate your rescue and Seonghwa's return, the droids and cooks prepared a massive meal for the camp. The both of you stuck around the tent for a while to chat with Resistance members before deciding to go off somewhere for a little privacy. And that place was atop the Millennium Falcon.

"I missed the food here." You sighed fondly, rubbing your stomach. "The meals I was given on the First Order ship weren't great... no offense."

"None taken." Chuckled Seonghwa. "It was subpar at best. Even when I was a Sith I missed the food here."

You laughed softly, gazing up at the stars like you'd done years ago, seated with your legs crossed. When you turned back, Seonghwa was looking at you and had leaned in closer.

"This is nice." He murmured softly.

"What is?"

"Being up here with you."

Fighting back a smile, you responded. "And why's that?"

"Because I can finally give you a proper kiss."

He leaned in and placed his lips gently on yours, tentatively at first. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment now that you were both home and safe. His hand slid around to cup the nape of your neck, guiding you to lie back while his lips slowly danced over yours, making you melt. Once you laid down, he leaned over you and depended the kiss by tilting his head and picking up the pace. A mix between a soft sigh and a hum left you, your hands moving up to run through his long locks.

"I love your hair like this." You murmured against his lips.

"Yeah? You like it longer?"

"I do." You brushed your digits through it, making his eyelids flutter, a low noise leaving him before he dove back in for a passionate kiss that took your breath away. His hand that wasn't cradling the nape of your neck slid down your side to feel your curves through the fabric of your gray tunic.

Your fingers gripped at his inky hair, making him groan against your mouth, sending a flurry of butterflies to your stomach. His pillowy lips captured your bottom one, surrounding it in warmth before he encompassed your mouth wholly with his and making your head spin in the process.

When he pulled away, you were both panting shallowly, looking at each other with half-lidded eyes that were glazed over with adoration and longing for one another. It was a picture perfect moment; you and the man you loved lying under the stars together, reunited at last.

"I love you." Seonghwa murmured reverently, caressing your cheek tenderly with his thumb as you both gazed at one another lovingly.

You smiled softly at him before responding, "I know."

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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[fanaticsnail]

Maybe some other time, Wire

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 900+

Synopsis: Wire is curious about your past and asking a lot of questions. You would prefer if he left this for another time considering the operation you're performing.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic series, you are 'Doc', the doctor of the Kid Pirates. Risky language, not explicit, humour, Wire is being intrusive, he tests your patience. This started as a fun crack series, and I needed to bring it back.

Notes: Permissions for art used from @magnuspirate was given, and how beautiful is he? Go and have a look at their other work. I am obsessed with how they draw Heat, alongside the other Kid Pirates. I dreamed about this fic last night and woke up laughing a little bit about it. 5am fic writing, my beloved.

“Hey, Doc?” The calm and low baritone of the trident user called sweetly over his shoulder to you, “Why don't you like to talk about your past?”

His question seemed reasonable enough. You had yet to really discuss who you were, what you did, or anything to do with personal relationships before joining the Kid Pirates. You weren't a native to the North like the majority of the crew, being an outsider they let in when visiting a port.

Letting out a soft sigh, you shook your head and continued to make good on the taste you set for yourself. Knitting your brows tighter together, you pursed your lips and used your utensil to extract another small object between their pincers.

“I just don't particularly like talking about me,” you utter without inflection on the words, “It's not a pretty story, nor is it remotely interesting in my opinion.” You placed the object in a small container before making to go back for another, “Now, I would prefer to focus on what I'm doing, so if you would please refrain from asking me questions, I would appreciate it.”

Wire pondered for a few moments, humming softly as he thought more on your deflection of the question.

“You know, I'm no ships counselor,” Wire uttered defensively, “But even I know not to internalize your past, especially when it caused you such a hard injury earlier.”

You look down at your healed leg briefly, still feeling the sting of the object embedded in your muscle, and the sour flavor from the poison igniting your blood. Shaking it off, you once again return to what you had set yourself to do.

“You're right,” you agree with him, nodding briefly, “You're not ship's counselor. Now, please stop asking me questions about my past. I would be happy to answer anything you want soon, but not now.”

Wire seemed to take this as his queue to sit in silence as you plucked and prodded at your latest project. But that silence only lasted as long as his questions halted its burn.

“Who was that person?” Wire asked you suddenly, his voice a little louder than it had been moments prior, “And why did they attack you on sight?” You sighed through your nose at this, rolling your neck on your shoulders to rid it of tension from your hunched position.

“Some other time, Wire,” you growled, your voice low and laced with warning. Wire refused to take that as reason enough to stop, curiosity eating at him the longer you avoided it.

“And the poison?” he asked you suddenly, “Why did you have a cure under your bed? Were you expecting something like this?”

“Wire,” you made your voice a little louder, disciplinary and tough, “Enough. I am concentrating.”

“And why did-?” Wire began once more, prompting you to throw your tweezers into the tray beside you and move to where he was laying face down on the medical bay.

Bringing your eyes to his, you narrowed them and upturned your lip to a soft grimace.

“Wire, I said some other time,” you spoke firmly, “I did not say ‘no’, nor did I avoid the questions you’re asking.” You nod along, ensuring you maintained eye contact with him. “I will answer you, just not now. Do you understand?”

Wire furrowed his brows, his mop of dark and silvery curls dancing at his face with his hood laying on the medical office chair. Still reclining on his belly, his curiosity plagued him as he darted his eyes between yours.

“Why won't you answer me now? We're alone, you don't have to think about it, you can just speak,” he commented, gently reaching one of his larger hands towards you and giving your forearm a friendly squeeze. “I thought we were friends. You don't have to talk, but I can admit, the curiosity has been eating at me since we got back from our mission to that island together.”

You inhaled a deep lungful of air, expanding your chest with it, before deflating it through a lengthy exhale through your nose.

“Wire,” you warn him almost sweetly, “You are currently laying flat down, on your belly, on my examination bed with your briefs, shoes and fishnets tucked neatly on the chair in front of you.” You gesture towards the chair his hood was tucked on. “And I am currently operating extremely close to, and directly on, your anus.”

You gesture towards the tray, reminding him where he was, and who he was talking to. A warm blush flooded his whiskered cheeks, burning his features with the hot ignition of a large fluster.

“Now, while I appreciate the sentiment, and I adore you, commander,” you utter sweetly, returning to your position at his exposed rear cheeks, “Removing cactus spindles from your ass cheeks, inside and outside your rectum, and the ones you managed to collect on your scrotum…” you continued, picking up your tweezers and returning to your task, “...Is not the position I would like to be in when talking about my childhood.”

Wire gulped back his silence, burying his forehead on his butterflied out arms. The tips of his ears remained red as you continued, wanting to punish him a little for continuing to push your boundaries.

“The only place I appreciate winking at me when I talk is from the eyes attached to your face,” you comment, plucking another spindle from his flesh and placing it in the container beside you, “So, please refrain from asking me personal questions while I am so close to your sphincter. I think we would both prefer it if the mood for intimate conversation was set elsewhere. Am I clear, sir?”

Wire nodded, extending his left arm over his blushing head and gesturing with his thumb to confirm your orders.

“Aye, Doc,” he mumbled against his right arm, “You're clear.”

“Wonderful."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession

[andy-15-07]

The Legacy of House Harkonnen

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

Summary: Feyd trains his daughter, Lysandra, while Y/n reminisces about their past joys and the family's enduring bond, showcasing a lineage of strength and love.

Dune Masterlist

The vast training arena echoed with the metallic clangs of swords as Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, the feared and formidable heir to House Harkonnen, sparred with his daughter, Lysandra. She was seventeen, possessing her father's sharp wit and agility, a true reflection of her lineage.

"Faster, Lysandra!" Feyd urged, his voice echoing across the training ground. "You're leaving yourself open."

Lysandra nodded, her focus intensifying as she countered her father's strikes with swift precision. "I'll do better, Father," she promised, determination gleaming in her eyes.

Feyd smiled proudly, his heart swelling with paternal pride. "Good. Now, remember what I taught you about footwork. It's crucial to maintaining your balance."

As they continued to spar, Y/n watched from the sidelines, a soft smile playing on their lips. They remembered the day Lysandra was born, the joy and happiness that had filled their hearts as they held their newborn daughter for the first time. It seemed like only yesterday, yet here she was, a skilled warrior in her own right, training alongside her father.

Memories flooded Y/n's mind, transporting them back to the early days of their marriage, when Feyd was not just the heir to House Harkonnen, but also a devoted husband and father. They recalled the tender moments they had shared, the laughter and love that had bound them together through triumph and adversity.

Lost in reverie, Y/n's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden clash of swords as Feyd and Lysandra engaged in a particularly fierce exchange. With each strike and parry, it was evident that Lysandra had inherited her father's skill and determination, a testament to the legacy of House Harkonnen.

"Feyd, watch your flank!" Y/n called out, their voice filled with concern.

Feyd heeded their warning, swiftly adjusting his stance to deflect Lysandra's attack. "Thank you, my love," he said, his gaze briefly meeting theirs before returning to the fray.

As the training session drew to a close, Feyd and Lysandra stood facing each other, their breathing heavy but triumphant. It was a scene that filled Y/n's heart with pride and joy, knowing that their family's legacy would endure for generations to come.

"Well done, Lysandra," Feyd praised, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You're improving with each session."

Lysandra beamed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you, Father. I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

Feyd placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare display of affection from the stoic warrior. "You have the potential to surpass even me, my dear. Never forget that."

Y/n approached them, a sense of contentment washing over them as they watched father and daughter share a moment of mutual respect and admiration. "You both make me proud," they said, their voice filled with love.

Feyd and Lysandra turned to them, their expressions softening with affection. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of their past and the promise of the future, they were reminded of the unbreakable bond that bound them together as a family, a legacy that would endure for eternity.

[literaila]

Reader meeting gojo parents when since they’re confirmed to be alive ☹️

the next time gojo satoru claims to be a “grown man” you’re going to pull his annoyingly soft hair and shove him down a sink drain.

this child, this infant—the very same one who got lost exactly one minute after you told him not to wander off—is going to be the death of you.

you’d always thought that you might go out peacefully, in your sleep or lying in a hospital bed. or, at least, heroically. saving some innocent bystander, leaving the world with some witty last remark.

but no.

instead you’ll die of a heart attack. instead you’re going to look for gojo and accidentally wander into some den of cursed spirits and die before you get the chance to pull on his ear at least one last time.

even tsumiki doesn’t get lost this much—and she gets distracted every time she catches a glimpse of pink in a window.

you walk amongst the crowd, looking for long legs and a stupid blind-fold, thinking about how you should’ve brought megumi. he’s more observant than you are—he’ll look for any chance to get gojo in trouble.

namely, this one.

you sigh, dialing his number again. but you can barely hear it ring as you hold it to your ear, you can barely hear the, “it’s gojo, you must feel sorry that you missed me—“ before you hang up. he’s not going to listen to any short of breath voicemail you leave anyway.

he can teleport home, you suppose. it might be nice to have a couple of hours to yourself, to teach him a lesson for once—

(and no, you won’t miss him. that’s a ridiculous suggestion. why would you miss a third child that clings to you, and whines every time you’re not paying enough attention to him, and whispers sweet things in your ear when he’s bored, and follows you wherever you go, and always trails his hand down the small of your back because he knows—

no, okay? no.)

you’re thinking about how gojo satoru is the worst person you’ve ever met—and you’ve had to sit through meetings with the higher ups, so—when you run into someone.

you get your obliviousness from gojo, thank you.

“i’m sorry, i—“ but you look up and you’re met with the same smile you were just cursing out in your head.

though, maybe not quite the same? it’s usually not so pained and he’s usually sticking his tongue out a little bit—

“baby,” he breathes, chest inflating.

you frown. “i thought i told you to stay by me. i’ve been looking for you for, like, fifteen minutes, are you—“

he turns, just slightly, and usually you would pinch his cheek for trying to deflect but… there’s a woman standing there. looking at you—at him—like she’s seen some sort of ghost.

satoru has that effect, you suppose.

“oh, sorry,” you say, stepping so you wave at her. “did i—am i interrupting?”

“no, we—“

“it’s nothing—“

they both stop. and satoru may be blindfolded, as ridiculous as he is, but you can practically see the glance that they share.

the quick look away, awkwardness floating through the air like dust.

you tilt your head, brows furrowing.

satoru doesn’t necessarily like talking to strangers, but the man doesn’t know what social expectations are. and he’s certainly not awkward.

you wrap your hand around his arm, feeling the release of his technique (and yours), as you consider them. “satoru. who’s this?”

“she’s…” he makes a vague gesture with his hand, trying to telepathically communicate with you, and winces again.

you give him another strange look.

but the woman clears her throat, gesturing to satoru. “i am his mother.”

you still, keeping your eyes on satoru. he doesn’t look back towards you, doesn’t nod to confirm or acknowledge her in any way. his head is tilted up, eyes to the sky.

eventually, you look to the woman.

suddenly you see it, like a flash of light. her eyes are blue, and though not as breathtaking as satoru’s, still light enough to be beautiful.

her hair is a glimmering silver and her entire body is tense.

but she doesn’t look like satoru at all, you think. satoru is always smiling, always moving a million miles a minute. he’s gesturing and trying to make you laugh and he’s never nervous, he’s never caught off guard.

except for maybe now.

some hindrance in your mind thinks about how megumi resembles satoru at times—the model of his smirk or the tease in his eyes. you recall tsumiki’s laugh, the mimicry of sound when she’s laughing with satoru.

it’s not biology, you hear, but connection.

the way you mold each other, the tight grip that admiration has on the very material of your soul.

“oh,” you breathe out finally. but you don’t say anything else to her, can’t think of anything you might want to. you turn to satoru, leaning closer to him, hand gripping his arm. “satoru, do you want to—“

he finally looks forward, towering both of you. “this is my wife,” he interrupts, smoothly. “we were just shopping.”

“it’s lovely to meet you.”

the woman is trying to smile but it doesn’t mean much to you. she keeps glancing at satoru—staring like he’s some public attraction, hesitating like he might bite if provoked.

you pull on his arm a little bit, dragging him a step away. you don’t want to ask in front of her—dont want to take that means of distance away from him—but you don’t have a choice.

“do you want to go?” you whisper to him, wishing you could meet his eyes. “we don’t have to stay.”

his mouth opens, then closes. “i’m not—“ he swallows, stopping.

you’re about to say something—to tell him that he doesn’t owe her anything, that he doesn’t have to be afraid—but she clears her throat again and you turn, ready to say whatever you can to get your satoru back.

the one who’s never left speechless, never left not knowing what to say.

“satoru,” the woman speaks, saying his name like she deserves to. like it’s different when it’s in her mouth—a possession no one else can have. “i have to go—we aren’t supposed to be in the city for very long.”

you frown at her and satoru continues to stare at the side of your head.

“here’s my phone number. i would like—love. i would love to speak with you, if you have the time. whenever you want. if you want.”

she holds her hand out to him and you already know that he’s not going to reach out to her.

you already know that even if he did—she would never get past the world of space between them.

so you reach out instead, grabbing it from her. “thank you.”

“no—thank you. i am…” she pauses, looking away, finally. “i am glad you’ve found happiness, satoru. i… have to go. it was nice seeing you,” she blinks at you, a slight bow as she takes a step back. “and meeting you.”

you don’t say anything but wait, watching for satoru as she walks away from the two of you—keeping him safe for just a moment.

and as soon as she’s gone, you turn to look at him, not sure what to say.

it’s not like with your mom—if satoru understands your childhood at all, you’re completely lost to his.

“you okay, baby?” you ask, staying close to him. maybe it’s a defense mechanism—trying to keep him from shutting you out—or maybe it’s so he knows that you’re there.

“i didn’t think i would ever see her again.”

“did she…” his eyes meet yours, even through the fabric, his mouth a straight line. “did she say anything before i showed up?”

he shakes his head. “no. she just stared at me. i—i didn’t realize who she was, at first.”

“that’s understandable.”

“i don’t know why she would be here.” he looks around, seeming to come to, and then finds you again. “did i get lost?”

you laugh, a bit shocked, pushing your forehead into his chest. “ran away, more like.”

his arms wrap around your back, holding you in place. “sorry. i smelled dessert.”

“of course you did.”

he takes a deep breath, then pulls away. “okay. more shopping? did you check out at the gift shop?”

“are you okay, satoru?”

“i’m fine,” he answers immediately. you stare at him, unblinking, and wait. after a moment, he licks his lip. “okay. yeah. i don’t know.”

“that’s okay.”

three years ago, he wouldn’t have said anything to you. two years ago, he would’ve feigned indifference and hidden himself away for a week.

but you’ve learned to move past these walls, learned how to fill the space and not push too hard.

and you love satoru. too much to let him fall away from you, now.

he sighs after a moment, shaking his head again. “she.. she looks different.”

“it’s been at least ten years, right?”

“yeah.”

you wipe his cheek, adjusting his blindfold for him. “do you want to call her?”

“i don’t—“ he frowns, just minimally. “i don’t know.”

“that’s okay. but you can, you know?”

“would you help me?”

“help you dial her number?”

he grabs your wrist, his cheek quirking. “help me talk to her.”

“hmm…” you tap his nose with a finger. “maybe if you beg.”

“this is why i ran away,” he says, just barely pouting.

and that’s how you know you’ve gotten your satoru back. as annoying as he is.

[persevereforahappyending]

He Hung Up (2)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 4.2k+

Note: I tried doing a one shot, but I've never been good at those so here's a part 2. Third and final part is also planned.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Suspects!” Mindy shouted, causing all of you to look up at her as she stood before everyone as if she was on center stage.

Everyone gathered together on campus before their classes and before Sam had to go to work. Quinn, Anika, and Sam all sat on a bench together while Chad, you, Tara, and Ethan sat on the other bench.

Chad had a pen and notebook out ready to jot down notes as soon as Mindy started talking. Tara was leaning into your side with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. Ethan was sitting next to you looking up at Mindy like a clueless puppy.

You had started out listening to Mindy, but she kept mentioning sequels and requels and eventually you just tuned her out. You got into your head when she mentioned being in a franchise, you couldn’t help but think about all the potential ways Ghostface was totally going to kill you. You didn’t zone back in until she mentioned Tara and Sam being on the potential chopping block.

You didn’t want to die but there was no way in hell you were ever letting someone hurt Tara again. You’d seen her scars; she told you what happened. It had taken a while for her to get comfortable enough, but you woke up one night to her thrashing around in bed. When you got her to calm down, you just held her, and she told you all about Amber.

“Y/N,” Mindy said, clapping her hands together as she looked at you. Your eyes snapped to Mindy, thoroughly being pulled out of your worrying thoughts for Tara at the accusation you could be the killer.

“Hey!” you said, raising both your hands in offense. Tara smiled up at you, laying her head on your shoulder.

“Good! Never trust the love interest,” Sam said, nodding along with what Mindy said.

“I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.

“Oh please, it could have all been an act. Who would be stupid enough to antagonize Ghostface?” Sam raised a brow, waiting to hear what excuse you could possibly have.

“Me!” You leaned forward, jostling Tara enough to lift her head off your shoulder.

“Babe-” Tara started, leaning away from you just enough to look at you.

“I would certainly be stupid enough!” You continued, ignoring whatever Tara was about to say.

Everyone fell silent after that. Sam raised her eyebrows at you. You stared at her for a second before furrowing your brow, you glanced down at the ground, finally realizing what you just said. Tara patted your leg, giving it a comforting rub.

You sat there pouting, vaguely aware of Mindy going on and on about Quinn, Ethan, and her own girlfriend Anika being suspects as well. The others tried making an argument in their defense, none more than Ethan who tried deflecting suspicions on to the core four, specifically Sam.

You didn’t think any of the core four were the killers. It didn’t make sense. Despite all the stuff that was being said online about Sam there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she was innocent. Tara fought with her sister all the time, but she adored her. Even the previous night while they were arguing Tara didn’t hesitate to jump in and defend her sister, ready to attack that girl who threw her drink on Sam.

When you and Tara first started hanging out anytime someone would question her about Sam or anytime, she’d see something negative online she’d get all angry and defensive. She would rant for several minutes about how those random ass people didn’t know what they were talking about. You would just sit and listen to her. It wasn’t your place to judge, you weren’t there, you didn’t see how everything went down. The only things you knew for sure was that everyone who was there agreed on what happened, Amber and Richie were psycho and Sam was a fucking hero.

Despite her not liking you, you had also gotten to know Sam since you started dating Tara. Sam didn’t share anything with you but based on the way Mindy and Chad admired her you knew she was cool. Then based on the way Tara would come over to your place for a break from her sister and just rant nonstop for over an hour, told you that though she was incredibly overprotective, she loved her sister more than anything, she loved all her friends, she just wanted them to be safe. After what happened to all of them you couldn’t blame her for being a tad overprotective.

“Should you really be telling us your suspects with us here?” you asked, interrupting whatever Mindy was still ranting about. Everyone fell silent, turning to look at you. “If you think one of us,” you pointed to yourself and Ethan then Quinn and Anika, “is the killer then why are you tell us you suspect us?”

Mindy didn’t say anything, opting to narrow her eyes at you. You leaned back against the bench, your arm still draped over Tara. You gave a small shrug, trying not to disturb Tara again. “I’m just sayin. If I’m the killer, then me knowing you suspect me would only help me.” You squinted your eyes, thinking to yourself to make sure that made sense. Sometimes you started speaking before your brain had time to process what you wanted to say.

“She’s got a point,” Chad said, nodding along and pointing his pen at you.

Everyone seemed to reluctantly nod, even Sam.

“I don’t think it’s Y/N,” Tara said. She lifted her head, leaning back, turning to give you a quick kiss. “She’d never hurt me.”

Sam scoffed. Tara threw a glare at her on your behalf. Sam quickly turned her scoff into a cough, clearing her throat.

“That’s what you thought about Amber,” Mindy pointed out. “And look how that turned out.”

Sam tilted her head glaring at Mindy. Chad looked up at his sister, his eyes wide as he shook his head. There was a lot you didn’t know but you knew what Mindy just said crossed one of their unspoken lines. Mindy at least had the audacity to look a little guilty when you flicked a glare at her.

Tara remained quiet. You felt her tense next to you the second Mindy had said the name Amber. You looked down at her concerned, you couldn’t help the hurt the flashed in your eyes when Tara just barely leaned away from you.

You couldn’t even blame Tara. You knew you’d never hurt her, that you’d do anything to keep her safe, but she couldn’t know that. Even after all you’d been through there was a part of her that would probably always doubt you because of what happened. You hated that. You hated that someone she trusted hurt her and betrayed her so bad she now had to question ever new relationship in her life, she had to worry if the next person she met would do the same thing.

You tried to hide the hurt, going back to listening to Mindy conclude her final suspects and franchise thoughts. Tara noticed though. You caught the same sadness in her eyes as she realized she had subconsciously leaned away from you. She slowly leaned back into you. You wanted to tighten your grip on her, comfort her in any way you could, but you didn’t, you weren’t sure if any sort of movement would cause her to pull away again.

When Mindy finally finished, everyone went their separate ways, leaving you, Tara, and Sam. You took a step back, suddenly finding the trees around you very interesting while Tara said goodbye to her sister.

“I’ll see you when I get home from work,” Sam said.

Tara nodded. “Yeah, we’ll all make our way over right after classes end,” Tara said, repeating the plan Sam had all made them agree to.

Sam flicked her gaze up to you for a second then back to Tara. “Be safe.” Sam pulled Tara into a hug who seemed reluctant at first but quickly reciprocated. When she pulled away, she looked at you one more time before finally running off to work.

“Soooo,” you drew out. Your hands were in your pockets, and you kept your eyes on the concrete. “What-”

“I’m sorry,” Tara cut you off.

You scrunched up your brow, lifting your head to look at her. “For what?”

“For how I reacted when Mindy mentioned,” it was Tara’s turn to suddenly find the concrete interesting. “You know who.”

“Don’t apologize for that.” Your eyes softened, taking a cautious step forward. “You can’t help how it makes you feel and your feelings on it are fully warranted.”

“I know. I just…” Tara took a deep breath, letting out a long exhale as she rubbed her temple. “I know you aren’t her.”

“Obviously, I mean I am one of a kind,” you joked, giving her a little smirk.

Your plan worked, Tara giggled, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“So, what do you want to do for the day?” You finally got finish asking what you intended. “Since our professor’s untimely demise last night our class is cancelled today. Your sister is at work, your friends are all in class, and our next class isn’t until this afternoon.” You gave her a mischievous smile.

Tara returned the same smile. “Whatever will we do with this rare freedom?” she asked, taking your hand in her own as she began leading you down the stone path.

“Was thinking we could go back to my dorm.” You smiled innocently at her, “My roommate isn’t there.”

Tara didn’t say yes right away. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. She got that adorable crinkle in her brow when she thought hard about something. You were smiling at how cute she looked until you realized why she was giving it so much though then you frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea,” you quickly said. “I’m literally one of your guy’s suspects and even if you don’t fully believe I’m the killer, me asking you back to my dorm alone is a stupid idea.” You were mentally kicking yourself for thinking that was a good idea. “We can go to the library or the cafeteria or chill in the quad, I’ll be happy with whatever.” You smiled, then quickly frowned again. “Unless you don’t want to be alone with me. Which I can understand, I guess,” you pouted. “I’m not the killer but I get that you don’t know that and can’t know that for sure and-”

Tara grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. Your previous rambling dying as you happily returned the kiss. You smiled into the kiss, it was simple, soft, and you could feel all of Tara’s love for you in it. It was your favorite type of kisses from her. When she finally pulled away you were left smiling at her like a lovestruck idiot even after months of dating.

“I would love to go back to your dorm,” Tara said softly. She was already pulling you in the direction of your dorm.

“Are you sure?” You asked again. You needed her to be sure, you wanted to make sure she was actually comfortable enough with being alone with you.

“Yes,” Tara said confidently. “I don’t think you’re the killer. I trust you.”

You smiled softly at Tara and pulled her in for another kiss. This girl who had been hurt and betrayed by her best friend, her girlfriend, the person she should have been able to trust the most, believed you weren’t going to hurt her. You couldn’t believe it. Sure, you weren’t the killer, but you couldn’t believe that Tara trusted you so much that she didn’t doubt you, that she knew you would never hurt her.

“Let’s go,” she whispered against your lips when you guys finally pulled away again.

You nodded and let her drag you to your dorm room. When you got there you happily unlocked it, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter. You weren’t necessarily rich, but your family was like Tara’s, your parents made decent enough money. Which is how you ended up in one of the nicer dorm rooms, with a small kitchen, living room, full bath, and two bedrooms. Your parents were great, not always around but they were okay, which is why they tried to compensate by making sure you were comfortable wherever you were.

“So, did you want to watch a movie or…” you trailed off, looking to Tara for suggestions.

“I didn’t really have a movie in mind,” she said.

Before you could ask what, she wanted to do she was marching up to you, pushing you so you fell down onto the couch. You were leaned back in a sitting position when she kneeled on the couch, straddling your lap. She wasted no time and gave you no room to say anything else before her lips were on yours again.

“Okay, this works for me too,” you whispered when you guys finally broke apart for a breath. She shook her head smiling at you before kissing you again. You ran your hands up her back, sliding them underneath her shirt. She lifted her arms, getting ready for you to slide her shirt off when your phone rang.

“Ignore it,” she said in between kisses.

She was kissing down your neck as you shifted, trying to disturb her placement on top of you as little as possible. She turned your head towards her, kissing you again, trying her best to distract you from whoever was calling you. When she trailed her kisses down your neck again you looked at your phone, furrowing your brow at the caller ID.

“What? Who is it?” Tara asked, sitting up straighter but refusing to remove herself from your lap. You turned the screen towards her. Her name was on the screen. She shot off your lap, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the phone. “Don’t answer it.” Her voice shaking, her previous confidence thrown out the window.

You cleared your throat before hitting the green button and bringing the phone up to your ear. “Hello, this is Y/N, how may I be of assistance,” you said in the best customer service voice you could muster up.

“Hello, Y/N,” the crackling of someone using a voice changer came through the phone. “You wanted my attention so bad last night I decided to give it to you.”

“That is so sweet, I do have a desperate need for attention.” You started to pace back and forth, making sure to keep your eyes on Tara, needing to know she was okay. “I’ll never ask for attention cause I don’t want to be inconvenient and come off as needy but oh do I so crave attention.”

“I’ve gathered. Based on your constant need of approval even when doing the simplest things, such as cooking dinner.”

You pouted. “Fuck you.”

“Do you think it has something to do with your parents never being there for sporting events or award shows?”

“Doctor Carter?” you asked. Tara tilted her head at your confused expression.

“No this isn’t your therapist,” Ghostface sighed. “Your abandonment issues and constant need to be validated that you’re good enough are just so textbook.”

“You’re being quite hurtful this morning. I had much more fun with our conversation last night.”

“Aww, I’m sorry.” You could hear Ghostface’s fake sympathy through the voice changer. “Let me make it up to you. Let’s play a game.”

“How about Monopoly?” You smiled brightly at the idea of getting to play your favorite game. You looked at your girlfriend who rolled her eyes despite the terror she was clearly feeling. You frowned, she never wanted to play Monopoly with you.

“Nobody likes Monopoly.” You could feel the annoyed deadpanned look in through the phone. “It’s to long, no one has time for that.”

“The only people who don’t like Monopoly are the ones who lose. Also,” you spun around on your heel. “You’re literally planning murders and dressing up like a serial killer and setting up what you refer to as a game, that usually takes months if not years to plan and then is executed over a couple days. Talk about excessive.

“I hate Monopoly,” he said, ignoring the rest of your statement. You took his silence on the matter to mean you were right and he had nothing to argue against it.

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” you continued to taunt Ghostface, regaining some of that confidence from the previous night. “Is that why you’re doing this?” you looked up in thought, as if you just had a revelation. “You decided to copy someone else’s game in the hopes you could finally win something?”

“Shut up!” Ghost face growled. You smirked; you knew you were getting to him. “This is my game! I am the mastermind here!”

“I’m pretty sure that was Billy Loomis,” you interrupted. “No, wait,” you paused thinking for a second. “Roman Bridger was technically the original mastermind behind it all, you all are just cheap knockoffs of his game.”

“They could never comprehend the level of complexity of my game!”

You snorted, not able to hold in your laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Jill Roberts?” you asked through your laughter. “Who is my favorite Ghostface by the way.” You got lost in thought thinking about Jill. “Man, who doesn’t love a manipulative psychopath.” You shook your head, still thinking about her when you noticed Tara somehow glaring at you and giving you a concerned look. “What?” you shrugged.

“Listen here you bitch!” your attention snapped back to the phone; you had forgotten Ghostface was trying to threaten you. “Billy, Roman, Stu, whatever! None of them matter! They will all be forgotten when I’m through.”

“Oof,” you let out a sigh. “Someone clearly has daddy issues. Is that it? Daddy didn’t love you enough?”

“You wanted a brutal death, I promise you I will deliver,” Ghost face said, you could hear him taking calming breaths though they sounded crackly with the voice changer. “Now, back to our original scheduled program, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

You rolled your eyes, these guys always had the same script, couldn’t they each come up with something new and different? You had seen the Stab movies and you read all the articles about the real-life events, but they always played out the same. You just wanted someone to surprise you for once, shake things up a bit.

“Ready or Not,” you said without hesitation. Since he was so insistent you figured you might as well play along. You still would’ve rather played Monopoly, no one ever wanted to play Monopoly with you.

“Really?” he snorted.

“Okay judgy,” you held up your hand in offense. “First, it’s a great movie. Second, Samara Weaving in a wedding dress with a shotgun. What’s not to love?” You turned to Tara for support. She seemed reluctant but she shrugged, nodding in agreement with you.

“I see why Samantha hates you,” Ghostface changed the subject.

“Sam doesn’t hate me,” you tried defending. Looked at Tara who kind of scrunched up her face and shrugged her shoulders slightly. Your mouth fell open, you knew Sam didn’t necessarily like you, but you didn’t think she hated you.

“After all, you got her sister killed.” Your face fell, your eyes widened as you looked at Tara. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to kill you first. She can watch as I carve you up, ripping out your organs. Do you still want me to carve out your heart and deliver it to her?”

“I’ll kill you myself before you ever get close enough to hurt her,” your said through gritted teeth.

“One more question,” his voice was deadly calm. “Do you think you can make it to the door before my blade pierces your gut?”

A chill shot down your spine, you stopped breathing. You subconsciously reached for Tara, grabbing her hand, and running towards the door. You caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, you yanked Tara, pulling her in front of you and pushing her towards the door, turning just in time to catch Ghostface’s hand as he tried to stab you.

You heard Tara scream. Your eyes darted toward her, cowering in the corner by the door. You had to focus on the cloaked figure in front of you trying to stab you in the heart though. “Go!” you shouted towards Tara, pushing against the hand that held the knife with as much strength as you could. “Go!”

Something slammed into Ghostface’s head, shattering on impact. Ghostface’s hand slipped, you used the distraction to push him off of you. His knife still managing to slice your bicep.

You stood looking down at Ghostface, seeing your blender shattered on the ground next to him. “My blender?” you turned to Tara.

“Let’s go!” she ignored your question, grabbing your hand to pull you to the door.

Ghostface kicked out his feet, tripping you. You caught yourself against the wall, pushing off just as Ghostface brought down his knife, impaling it in the wall where your head had just been.

He pulled on the knife a few times trying to unstick it from the wall. You grabbed the back of his head, slamming it against the wall before delivering a sift to his stomach.

You didn’t get the chance to beat him even more because Tara gripped your hand tight, throwing open the door and yanking you out. She practically dragged you down the steps, not releasing her grip on you even when you were outside.

Tara called Sam as you were ushered off to the hospital. You hated hospitals but Tara insisted, she wouldn’t stop fussing over the cut on your arm. You tried to tell her it was just a scratch, but the continuous bleeding made it hard to argue your defense.

You were sitting on one of the beds in the ER as a nurse finished stitching up the cut. Tara hadn’t left your side, holding onto your hand the entire ride to the hospital and through the entire process of the stitches. You kept giving her a reassuring smile, wanting her to relax slightly, you loved her, but you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers.

The nurse had just finished wrapping your stitches when Sam swung open the curtain. She didn’t say anything, in one motion she stepped forward, engulfing Tara in a hug who instantly returned it. You took the opportunity to flex your fingers of your now free hand, watching as the color slowly returned to them.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Sam questioned, pulling away from the hug to look over Tara, making sure there were no new injuries. “What were you doing there? Why did you go somewhere alone? Why weren’t you in class? I should have never left you. We should have never left our apartment.”

“Sam. Sam. Sam!” Tara tried getting her sister’s attention. After the third time Sam finally stopped rambling. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she reassured her sister. “I’m sorry, we thought we’d be safe together.”

“Look how well that turned out.” Sam shot a glare at you.

You flinched at her stare. You didn’t usually get bothered by Sam’s jabs at you or her glares or her general dislike of you. This time was different though. This time she was right. It was all your fault. You antagonized Ghostface the night before, then you went off to be alone with her sister, where you once again antagonized Ghostface. Tara would have been safe if it wasn’t for you.

“Hey!” Tara snapped; she moved in front of you as if she was defending you from her own sister. “It’s not her fault. She saved me.”

Sam let out a frustrated sigh, running her hand through her hair. She clenched her jaw, flicking a look from Tara to glaring at you. You kept your head down, looking anywhere but at Sam. You tried making yourself as small as you could as you hid behind Tara.

“Let’s go home,” Tara said, leaving no room for argument.

Without looking, Tara reached back, interlocking her fingers with yours. She pulled you to your feet and led you past Sam. You smiled softly at how protective Tara got against Sam when it came to you. You were happy Sam didn’t try to stop Tara; you weren’t sure what you would do if you weren’t allowed to go back to their place with them. You didn’t want to be alone, and you certainly had no desire to leave Tara after the attack.

When you got back to their apartment Tara didn’t say hi to anyone else. Everyone was seated in the living room, ready to greet you guys but quickly fell silent as Tara brushed past them, dragging you to her room. You got comfortable in her bed, Tara instantly curling into you, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.” You kissed the top of her head. “I promise.” She tightened her hold around you as you two quietly drifted off to sleep.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Be Kind

But if you're gonna fight then do it for me (4)

Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Your Goddess defends you, transforming her into something different.

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, SW refers to R as pet, W calls R baby, R calls Wanda Mommy

A/N: The final chapter for these three. I loved them so very much and I hope you guys did too!

As a stray bolt of Doctor Strange's magic came hurtling towards you, you instinctively flinched, curling up into a defensive ball. But the Scarlet Witch was quicker. With a wave of her hand, she deflected the attack, her magic flaring brighter and more intense.

"Stay behind me, pet," she commanded, her voice distorted but unmistakably protective. You peeked up at her from your curled position, awestruck and terrified by her new form. The intricate, dark design of her mask and the raw power emanating from her made her look like a dark guardian, ready to do anything to keep you safe.

Doctor Strange hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback by the Scarlet Witch's transformation. "Wanda, this isn't the way," he pleaded, trying to reason with her.

But the Scarlet Witch was beyond reason. "She is mine," she hissed, her voice echoing with power. "I will protect her at all costs."

With that, the battle resumed, even more intense than before. The Scarlet Witch's magic swirled around you, creating a shield that absorbed the impact of Doctor Strange's attacks. You could feel the heat and energy of the battle, but you knew that as long as your Goddess was there, you would be protected.

The battle raged on with neither side letting up. Spells clashed in the air, creating bursts of light and energy that lit up the field. The Scarlet Witch was relentless, her fury unmatched as she defended you. Eventually, realizing the battle was at a stalemate, she threw up a barrier and then summoned a portal.

With a swift motion, she picked you up effortlessly, her new form radiating both power and protectiveness. She hopped through the portal, taking you back home in an instant. You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her body despite her fearsome appearance.

As you arrived back home, she held you tightly against her, her heartbeat quick and steady against your ear. Despite the distorted nature of her voice, you could hear the sincerity and determination in her words. "I won't let anyone take you from me, Y/N," she mumbled softly, almost to herself.

You nestled closer, feeling a mixture of fear and comfort. The Scarlet Witch, your Goddess, had fought fiercely to protect you, and in that moment, you knew that she would go to any lengths to keep you safe. The bond between you felt unbreakable, forged stronger through the fire of battle and the depth of her unwavering devotion.

You looked up at her, taking in her new appearance. Your hands moved up to cup her cheeks, feeling the black veins running down her skin, now pale. Her once beautiful crown was now a part of her face, and her eyes glowed red behind the barred mask. "I must be terrifying right now..." she admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

"No...you're my Goddess. You're always beautiful..." you whispered, your heart swelling with affection and loyalty. Without thinking, you leaned up and placed your lips on hers for the first time. The kiss was soft, a mix of love and reverence. When you pulled back, her appearance had shifted back to normal, her red eyes softening to the familiar green.

Your mind flickered to the thought of true love's kiss from all those fairy tales you were read growing up. Could it be that simple? The transformation, the intensity of her protective nature, all seemed to melt away with that one genuine act of love.

She looked down at you, her eyes searching yours. "You truly are devoted to me," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips. "I don't deserve you, but I will protect you with everything I have."

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "And I will always be here for you, my Goddess," you replied, snuggling closer to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her heart. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the bond you shared was unbreakable.

==========

Following the battle with Strange, the Scarlet Witch decided it would be best to find a new spot to live. With her magic, it didn't take much for the two of you to move house. She packed up everything effortlessly, red energy swirling around the objects and neatly placing them into boxes. You watched in awe as the familiar surroundings of your old home were transformed into organized stacks, ready for the journey.

The new cottage was nestled deep in the middle of the woods, miles and miles from anyone else. It was quaint and charming, surrounded by towering trees and the serene sounds of nature. A perfect sanctuary, hidden away from prying eyes and potential threats.

As you arrived, the Scarlet Witch began unpacking with the same ease, her magic making light work of the task. You stood at the edge of the clearing, taking in the beauty of your new home. The air was fresh and clean, the scent of pine and earth filling your senses. Birds chirped in the distance, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a soothing background melody.

"Do you like it, pet?" she asked, her voice soft as she came to stand beside you. Her eyes were their familiar green, filled with a mix of determination and tenderness.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "It's perfect, my Goddess. Thank you."

She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Good. We'll be safe here. No one will find us." Her tone was resolute, a promise of protection.

Over the next few days, you settled into your new routine. The cottage was cozy, with a stone fireplace, wooden beams, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The Scarlet Witch had even created a small garden outside, filled with vibrant flowers and herbs.

Every morning, you woke up to the sound of birdsong and the warmth of the sun streaming through the windows. You spent your days learning more about your magic, under the watchful eye of your Goddess. She was a strict but patient teacher, guiding you through each spell with care. Your nights were filled with quiet moments by the fire, cuddled up with her as she read or simply held you close.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, you looked up at her, a question forming in your mind. "Scarlet, why did you choose this place?"

She glanced at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because it's far away from everything and everyone. It's peaceful. And it's a place where we can be ourselves, without any interruptions."

You nodded, understanding the deeper meaning behind her words. This place was more than just a home; it was a refuge, a place where you could both heal and grow together. As you leaned against her, feeling the steady beat of her heart, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with her, you were home.

You hadn't seen Mommy in weeks while your Goddess had taken back over. Though your Goddess had become softer since the kiss, Mommy's absence was deeply felt. The contrast between them was stark; for two beings sharing a body, they couldn't be more different.

Your Goddess still held an air of authority, a presence that demanded respect and obedience. She was strict, yet not as harsh as before. She had rules and expectations, and while she allowed for moments of tenderness, there was always a reminder of her dominance. You were still her pet, a role you embraced with devotion and reverence.

But Mommy—Mommy was warmth and comfort, a sanctuary of unconditional love. With her, you felt like you could let your guard down completely. Her touch was gentle, her words soothing. She was nurturing, always ready to hold you close and whisper sweet reassurances. In her presence, you were more than just a pet; you were her cherished baby.

The days felt longer without her. You followed your Goddess's commands, practiced your magic, and did everything to please her, but the longing for Mommy's tender affection was always there. You missed the way she would stroke your hair, the softness in her voice, and the safe, warm embrace that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session of magic training, you found yourself sitting on the floor by the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames. The cottage was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves outside. Your Goddess was at her desk, reading an ancient tome, her expression focused and intense.

You dared to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Goddess, may I ask a question?"

She glanced up, her eyes meeting yours. "What is it, pet?"

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Will... will Mommy come back soon?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to your surprise, the intensity in her eyes softened. She closed the tome and stood, walking over to you. Kneeling down, she lifted your chin, her gaze penetrating yet kind.

"She misses you too, you know," she said softly. "But there are things I must take care of. Responsibilities and tasks that require my attention."

You nodded, understanding yet still yearning. "I miss her," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

She brushed a tear from your cheek with a gentle touch. "I know, pet. I promise she will return. And when she does, she will hold you and love you as much as she always has."

You leaned into her touch, feeling a flicker of hope. "Thank you, Goddess."

She smiled, a rare and beautiful sight. "Now, come. Let's get you to bed. You need your rest."

As she led you to your makeshift bed by her feet, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation. The promise of Mommy's return filled your heart with a renewed sense of hope and comfort, knowing that soon, you would be wrapped in her loving embrace once more.

=============

You sat by the fireplace with Nugget, using him as a makeshift pillow while the fire kept you warm. Your Goddess was on the couch, reading over a book. The soft crackling of the fire and the rhythmic turning of pages were soothing, and you closed your eyes, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

What felt like only a moment later, you were gently awoken by the familiar sensation of her magic lifting you up. You opened your eyes to find yourself being placed onto her lap. Your once harsh Goddess had softened ever since you had kissed her. The change was palpable; her touch was tender, and her eyes, though still powerful, held a warmth that made your heart flutter. The two of you were settling into each other, finding a new rhythm that blended the lines of pet and cherished companion.

"Hi baby, did you miss Mommy?" she whispered in your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. A smile broke across your face, and a giggle bubbled up from within you, unable to be contained.

"Yes, Mommy," you replied, snuggling closer to her. The soft fabric of her sweater felt comforting against your skin, and her arms around you made you feel safe and loved. "I missed you so much."

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, soothing and affectionate. "I missed you too, sweet girl," she murmured. "Every moment we spend together is precious to me."

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers. "You make me so happy, Mommy."

Her smile widened, and she kissed the top of your head. "And you make me happy too, little one. So very happy."

The fire crackled beside you, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, the sounds of the forest provided a serene backdrop to this intimate moment. You felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you were right where you belonged.

"Mommy," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yes, baby?" she responded, her voice soft and reassuring.

"I love you."

Her arms tightened around you, and she kissed your forehead. "I love you too, my sweet girl. More than you can ever know."

===========

Six months had passed, and life had taken on a new, comforting rhythm. You now had a room of your own, a small shed outback that Wanda had transformed into a cozy art studio. It was a place of solace, a haven where you could lose yourself in the colors and strokes of your brushes. The shed was filled with canvases, some finished, others still in progress, and the smell of oil and acrylic paints lingered in the air.

Wanda had given you this space, recognizing your need for a personal sanctuary. You had always loved painting, creating beautiful landscapes and scenes that seemed to flow effortlessly from your mind onto the canvas. What started as a hobby had become something more profound. Wanda often referred to your paintings as prophetic, noting how events depicted in your artwork would later unfold in reality. It was as if you were capturing glimpses of the future without even realizing it.

Today, you were working on a new piece, a serene forest scene bathed in the golden light of dawn. The trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a vibrant mix of greens and yellows, while a gentle stream wound its way through the underbrush. You lost yourself in the details, the brush moving with a life of its own.

As you painted, you thought about the changes that had come into your life. The once strict and imposing presence of your Goddess had softened considerably. Wanda and the Scarlet Witch had found a balance, coexisting in a way that allowed both to express their unique forms of love and care for you. You still followed the rules, still respected the boundaries set by your Goddess, but there was a tenderness now that hadn't existed before.

The door to your studio creaked open, and you turned to see Wanda standing there, a soft smile on her lips. She looked at the painting, her eyes filled with admiration and a hint of curiosity.

"Another masterpiece, I see," she said, stepping inside. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you, Mommy," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at her praise. "I love how this one is turning out."

Wanda moved closer, her eyes scanning the canvas. "It's peaceful. I hope it stays that way."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind her words. Many of your paintings had foreseen conflicts and challenges, but this one felt different. It was calm, serene—a welcome change.

"I wanted to create something peaceful," you said softly. "Something that reminds us of the beauty in the world."

Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You've done more than that, sweetheart. You've given us hope."

You looked up at her, seeing the genuine affection in her eyes. "I just paint what I see."

"And what you see is a gift," she replied, her voice tender. "Never forget that."

You turned back to the painting, adding a few final touches to the sunlight filtering through the trees. Wanda stayed by your side, watching in silence. The bond between you had grown stronger, and you felt more at peace than you had in a long time.

As the day turned to evening, you and Wanda walked back to the cottage together, the warmth of her presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Life with your Goddess and Mommy was a delicate balance, but it was one filled with love, understanding, and a shared sense of purpose.

Inside the cottage, the fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. You settled by Wanda's feet, leaning into her as she stroked your hair, the familiar feeling of safety and belonging washing over you. No matter what the future held, you knew you would face it together, drawing strength from the love that bound you all.

[deathbxnny]

Platonic Dan Heng, Welt, & Gallagher with a teen!reader that’s like Homura Akemi (From Puella Magi) but like they have a boss fight where reader is similar to Homulily (aka Homura’s witch form). Maybe after they’re defeated or when fighting them!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

I absolutely love Homura, so I got really excited seeing this request, Anon!! I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Kind of spoilers for Homura's abilities as a witch?, vague descriptions of her abilities/appearance, angst, hurt/no comfort, blood, reader used to be under their care in some way, bossfight against reader, reader turns evil for unknown reasons, reader dies in two of them

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》GALLAGHER

Gallagher didn't know how it all turned out this way, and yet, he perhaps should've seen it coming too. He usually did. Now, standing before your twisted and near unrecognizable form, he found himself hesitating to protect the very place he was created to watch over all those years ago by Mkihail. But perhaps the old man should've also just taught him how to deal with the heartbreak he experienced at the realisation that he now had to fight you. The very kid he took under his wing.

Gallagher wasn't the type to plead and complain, however. He flicked his lighter open, deciding that things would come the way they should and needed to. What was another loss in the end? You were in pain under all the layers of hate you had become, a twisted witch as you called yourself. Someone who had to get rid of the rats that plagued the world cleanse it from the evil. Unaware that you had become the very thing you hated. He pitied you, deciding it was best to end it here by his own hands before someone else did.

You raised your arms in anticipation, your voice screeching in need for battle, and he simply chuckled. You were never the type for theatrics before you turned into this... but things have changed. He decided to play along with you one more time, as he summoned a Meme, unaffected by what may happen as he was assured he'd win. Even if it meant losing you.

》WELT YANG

This isn't the first nor the last time he had to fight against someone he cared for, and yet something about it still hurt him deeply. He thought that switching worlds would save him from that heartbreaking fate, yet you proved him wrong. You were a child that was taken in and raised by the express, a young teen that deserved to live a bright life despite never having gotten as far due to the consequences of your own actions. You turned into a witch, a grotesque monster that rivaled the strength of what he had seen in honkai abominations, and yet he still couldn't find it in his to hate you. Even if you attempted to end him through your own hate as well.

The fight was still unfair, however, as despite most of his Herrscher abilities being sealed, he still was able to beat you with the small fraction he still had. You were too young to control your abilities properly, too confused and disoriented with the sudden surge of power and strength beyond your own means, until it ultimately ended you. He simply stood over you as he watched you fade away into the morning sun, your body retaining it's original form, yet even then, did he not call onto the Astral Express. They didn't need to see you like this. They didn't need to try and save someone they couldn't.

And so as you took your last breaths, your hand weakly reached up to turn back time once more, yet he stopped you by placing his hand on yours and shaking his head silently. He figured you out at last. You couldn't help but smile for the first time at that bitterly, as you finally allowed yourself to rest with a final sigh in defeat.

》DAN HENG

Dan Heng knew things were getting bad when you forced him to take on his true form to deflect a near devastating attack from you. He had to stop you, save you. But he was running out of options, and you were relentless. You didn't give him a moments rest. You didn't let him think or regroup. You didn't let him call for help from your other companions. He couldn't do anything but dodged anything you threw at him seconds before it hit him, yet his heart couldn't allow him to attack you back.

His mind ran rampant with memories of you two watching over the Databank as he taught you everything he knew. You were like a younger sibling to him, a part of the family he was able to build when the Astral Express became his home all those years ago. And now it was all coming to an end right before his very eyes, when you began charging up an ability he knew would end him and perhaps even more if he didn't stop it.

He scared himself with the thought that ending your young life would be a form of mercy. He felt disgusted at his own thoughts, wondering if he had even learned anything at all from his rebirth, and yet he still pierced your witch form's heart with a swipe of his hand, knowing you couldn't survive it. But it was alright, as a part of him died with you too.

Okay, so this one was lowkey sad to write... but I enjoy the angst, so I hope this was fine for you, Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33