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serene-destruction · 7 months

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(Platonic) Reactions To Finding Out You're In Hell For Killing Your Abuser [Angel, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox]

TW: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse | Cannon typical violence | Mentions of suicide

A/n: this one is really dark so reader discretion is greatly advised. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.5k

Angel Dust

You and Angel Dust likely met at the hotel. You were a newer resident of hell that just so happened to be spotted by Charlie and taken in after wondering the streets.

He didn't take to you right away, considering he had his own issues to deal with. Not to mention that you were such a goody two shoes that it kinda made him feel even worse about himself. Despite his name he knew he was far from any angel and your presence only exemplified that.

By all accounts you seemed to save your shit together. A drug free, pure and kind person, through and through. You never faltered. So it takes a while for him to even stand being in your presence, longer to actually try and talk with you. He hates that he doesn't find something to hate about you. Just so damn perfect.

He should have known better, truthfully. No one gets sent to hell off a whim, there were reasons. He was just so blinded by your purity at first that he doesn't see it. He isn't the only one, either. Charlie would be the first to use you as an example of purity.

But all the same the two of you do end up getting close to each other. You may be a bit straight-laced for his taste, but he can't help but grow attached. You're a good kid, you really don't deserve to be here.

It only takes one night for his perceptions of you to shatter

It started with one of Charlie's trust games. You were all meant to share what sins brought you down here. In a place like hell that wasn't usually a very taboo subject. Murder, drugs, sex, Angel's heard it all. But despite that assurance you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the exercise. You had locked yourself in your room, refusing to participate. So while the others went on ahead Angel decided he'd talk to you.

“Kid! C’mon, it can't be that bad!”

“I don't want to!” You were adamant. He should have known it right then

“Kid…look, can ya at least let me in? I'm tired of yelling through the door!” He pleaded and, to his surprise, you did. Your eyes avoided him completely as you allowed him to step in the room. Even when the two of you sat down on your bed you didn't budge. You looked almost as terrified as the first day you came here.

“Look, I get that admittin’ what you done can be a bit…embarrassin’ sometimes,” he's tries to calm you.

“But none of us are perfect and you ain't any different. Hell, it might even be good for you” his attempt at comfort didn't seem to be working. In fact he might have made it worse, given how you turned further away from him.

“It’s not just because it's embarrassing! I- I just don't want to tell everyone!” you answer through a tightening voice. There's a pause as Angel considers your words before he speaks again.

“Then you don't gotta tell everyone. You can just tell me” He was surprised when the offer had you turning back to him, though your discomfort was still evident. You didn't say anything at first but eventually you found the words.

“...Promise you won't tell anybody?” he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure you were being overdramatic. You probably told a little lie that got out of control or accidentally kicked a puppy or-

“Promise” he answered anyway.

And so you told him

“I…I was tired of him touching me” Angel’s stomach immediately drops at just those few words. All of his previous downplaying caused an explosion of guilt within him.

“He was always touching. Every day since I was little. Every time he was over, every time I was alone. I couldn't- I…I just wanted it to be over”

He knew where this was going.

“I-I snapped. I just couldn't take it anymore. Eighteen fucking years” your voice is a mix of rage and pain, a sound he didn't think you capable of until now.

“I'd never been so angry. I didn't- I didn't know what I was doing until it was over. There was blood everywhere- I killed him and…and I couldn't live with myself. I'd never done something like that before! I'd never hurt anyone! I couldn't live with that- I couldn't-”

Before you can spiral any further you feel Angels hand land on yours. With slow, purposeful movements he pulled you into his arms. You freeze for a moment, caught entirely off guard by the sudden comfort. He was careful not to hold you too tight and keep his breaths steady. Keep himself predictable.

“S’okay kid…You didn't do a damn thing wrong” his whispered words break through your shock, melting you into a pile of sobs in his arms, gripping onto him like your very soul depended on it.

After that night the two of you quickly become known for your fierce protectiveness over each other. Angel swears that if he ever sees the bastard he'll rip him a new asshole before shoving a spike in it.

Lucifer Morningstar

You were one of many assistants to Lucifer, helping him with the many tasks he doesn't ever keep up with as the king of hell. You are most likely ignored and/or forgotten about for a while. He is far too, uh…busy for remembering much of anything, let alone names and job titles.

However you do manage to catch his eyes when he finally notices your apparent lack of any sort of social life in hell. Unlike the others he has working for him who seem all too happy to indulge in hells many depraved luxuries, you aren't one of them.

It triggers his curiosity, so he starts to remember your name and even manages to strike up conversations with you that don't sound like he's desperately trying to remember who he's even talking to.

You begin to be the first person he goes to when he needs something done and in turn you go to him when you need something as well. It's never anything too much, he notices. Always just small tasks that take him almost no effort at all. But you seem to beam at even the smallest kindness.

But then there is that ill-fated night…

It was late and you were still hard at work in your office.

Or at least you would have been, if you didn't feel like the weight of everything was weighing down on you as you stared down the two items Lucifer had left for you. A small note and a tiny rubber duck. You kept re-reading the note over and over again.

‘You're a good kid, Y/n. Keep it up’

The small gesture had formed a sickening guilt in you. You were the farthest thing from good. What you had done rightfully landed you in the shithole you belonged in. You didn't deserve his kindness, let alone his care. You felt so guilty for ever allowing him to think that you-

A knock at your door has you quickly wiping away your tears. Before you can say anything he opens it, his wide smile falling immediately.

“Oh no, what-” he pauses when he sees the death grip you have on the rubber duck he'd gifted, your eyes unable to even glance at him. He gives a nervous laugh at that. It sounds more worried than anything.

“You uh- don't like the gift, I take it?” At that your head whips to look at him, an attempt to calm your nerves written all over your face.

“No! No that's not-…no” your frantic words die down quickly as you quickly turn away again, unable to look the man in the eyes. There is a long silence that feels almost like an eternity passing. Then, to your complete surprise, he slowly pulls up a chair next to you, his eyes not turning from you for even a moment.

“Do you…maybe wanna talk about what it is then?” His voice is disarming, a mix of poorly feigned calm and genuine concern. It frightens you how quickly he makes you want to spill your guts.

“It's- I’m not-” You pause, trying to collect your words. You know then that you can't bear to tell him anything but the truth.

“I don't deserve this” you gesture to the toy and his letter. He doesn't seem to understand.

“You? Y/n, you're practically the only reason I get any work done around here! The least I can do is this, truly. Why wouldn't you deserve it?” His tone is full of disbelief, almost entirely sure that you must be avoiding telling him the entire truth.

“Because it isn't true” the bluntness of your words catches him off guard.

“I killed him and…and it felt good when I did it. It felt good to hurt him like he hurt me, it felt good being in control. It didn't feel bad when I put that knife through his throat, It didn't feel bad when I finally got him to stop touching me. It didn't…until it was over” the tears that had brimmed at your eyes fell like rivers, your attempts to wipe them away fruitless. You didn't dare look him in the eye, even as you continued.

“There was so much blood. I…I didn't know what to do. I- I didn't mean- no, no I did. But I just couldn't live with it. I couldn't live knowing that I killed him and that all I could think about was that he'd never touch me again! I couldn't-!” your words are cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around you. For a moment you freeze, confused and horrified by the action, that is until the comfort of it seeps into you, knowing that the hands that held you now meant no harm. After that you sobbed into him.

Only once you'd calmed your sobs to hiccups and your grip loosened did he finally pull away. But he didn't go far and his eyes looked at you with nothing but pure concern.

“You listen to me, okay? I would never hold that against you. I couldn't if I tried. You did what you had to and I trust that you did it for the right reasons” his words of forgiveness strike through you, hitting you directly in your wounded heart. Never before had you believed anyone could look so kindly upon you knowing what you'd done.

After that day Lucifer had become quite father-like to you, treating you just like he would his own kid. You practically become an honorary Morningstar.

Alastor

You and Alastor have an…interesting relationship. the two of you very likely met at the hotel, considering he wouldn't have given you a second glance otherwise. You were, after all, just one of the many other souls, and not an impressive one at that. Meek, young and weak.

It takes a long while for Alastor to warm up to you, most likely because you avoid him at all cost. You learn quickly that Alastor doesn't like being avoided like that when he begins to follow you around.

It's through conversation that he grows interested in you. When you aren't blinded by your fear he's actually a great conversationalist, especially when he's alone with you. It seems almost like he drops a bit of his guard as well, something you explain away as you being of zero threat to him. The two of you often talk of your plans for the day and whatever latest idea Charlie has conjured. Small talk, for the most part. Never anything personal

Which is why you are so caught off guard when he asks the truthfully inevitable question.

It was a usual calm morning in the hotel kitchen. A bit of smooth jazz played from an old radio, the coffee machine churned, the constant static from Alastor flowed through the room and the sound of idle chit-chat passed between the two of you. Besides the fact that no one else joined the two of you, it all seemed relatively normal.

“I must say, for someone in Hell you have quite the kind heart, my dear. One might even ask how you managed to get yourself down here” Alastors words cause your heart to sink almost immediately. Your body tenses, your breathing catching for just a moment. You make sure to keep your eyes on the coffee pot and manage to give him a halfhearted laugh. But you know the moment he goes quiet for just that second too long that he noticed.

“How did you end up down here, if you don't mind telling me?” You feel your tongue go dry, your jaw clench, your entire being beg to leave this conversation. But you knew there wasn't a chance in all of Hell that you'd get out of this. If he didn't get an answer now he'd be sure to get one later.

“I uh…” you start, nausea threatening to crawl in.

“I don't know” you try to answer, hoping beyond hope that it would satisfy him.

It did not.

“Now now, one mustn't feel the need to lie to friends. I assure you I've seen worse than whatever it is you managed to do!” You pause at his words, finally turning over your shoulder to look at him.

“We’re…friends?” You ask, surprised to see him look almost just as confused by your words.

“Why of course! The both of us have quite nice talks with one another, why wouldn't we be?” He seems so confident as he speaks. Despite how skeptical you've been ever since meeting him, you can't help but feel that he might genuinely be growing on you. Fuck, you might even trust the guy. Not with your soul, mind you, but you were sure at least your words would be safe with him.

“Out with it then, what got you sent down to this lovely pit of fire and brimstone?” his tone is jovial and light, not taking this nearly as seriously as you felt he should be. You were weirded out when it actually helped you calm down a little.

“Well…” should you tell him? Would he even care? Would he blink an eye at your suffering? Would he laugh at you? All the possibilities ran through your head at once.

When you finally turned to face him he gave you an expectant look, fully anticipating an answer from you. So you took a deep breath and turned your head to gaze at a nearby wall before beginning.

“My uncle, he um…well he didn't really know how to keep his hands to himself. Ever since I first met the man he wouldn't keep his damn hands off me. Then mom died and I had to live with him and…” you pause a moment, trying to keep yourself together. With a deep breath you continued.

“He never stopped touching me. No one believed me, no one did anything. Not when I was eight, or ten, or fifteen. Not after either. I was just alone with him. Every day of every month of every year…until I couldn't take it anymore” your voice was quiet now, just above a whisper to keep it from shaking.

“I was cooking dinner when he came behind me and-…I snapped and…well I'm not really sure. I just remember being covered in blood and knowing that no one would believe me. So I did what I thought was the only thing I could do. Next thing I knew I found out I had been damned for all eternity” you hugged yourself in an attempt at comfort that wasn't working. You managed, by the smallest effort, to keep your tears in and your breath steady, but you knew you'd break at any moment. When you turned to him, his smile still plastered and staring blankly at you, you thought you just might have done so then. So you quickly turned back around to save yourself the embarrassment.

“But yeah. Pretty sure that's why I'm here-”

“That was quite brave of you” his words shock you still enough that you might have even felt your heart stop. Your head snaps back to him in an instant, unsure if you'd heard him right. He's standing now, smile just a little less wide and leaning on his cane. If you didn't know any better you might have mistaken it for a look of uncanny care.

“What?” You whisper the word. He stands a little taller at that.

“When the world stops caring then one must simply make it. Very few do so, and so I applaud your effort in taking fate into your own hands” he is serious, almost deathly so. His words aren’t what you expected, but they are actually some of the most comforting you'd ever heard. Not only because he believed you, but because he truly believed you'd done the right thing.

“...Thank you” his smile widens again and you catch how ever so slightly bigger his antlers have gotten and the small flicks of green that seem to only show in your peripheral. You choose not to say anything about it.

“Of course! Now I simply must be on my way! There is much to do and so little time. Have a pleasant rest of your morning!” he was out the door before you even realized he was leaving. You would have said goodbye yourself if you didn't know he was already gone. And without his coffee too!

After this little incident Alastor seems almost tied at your hip. You are warned time and time again not to get too close to him but after the way he took the news of your sin you honestly don't think you could push him away. He was the first person you'd ever told in Hell, the first person to ever believe you. And given how keen he is on keeping you safe both in and out of the hotel you are quite happy to call him a friend.

Vox

The only way you'd be able to get even a second glance from Vox is if you worked for him and, let's be real, he couldn't have given less of a shit about you when he first met you. You were one out of thousands that worked on his many, many projects. You were lucky if he ever even read your name, let alone remembered it.

It takes quite the circumstance for him to notice you and it's likely only because of very selfish reasons. Maybe he picks you out of the crowd as a gag at first. The big CEO talking to this meek little low life, giving them a glance at something they'll never achieve.

But Vox has a way of getting attached to the strangest things sometimes and you end up being among them. Maybe it's the way you go along with whatever he's saying, playing to his ego. Maybe it's the way he knows you don't mean a single word and he feels he has to prove himself. Or maybe he just liked having a bit of a babyface around to impress. Either way, he ends up kind of taking you in.

You become a sort of protege to Vox as he teaches you all about his company and how to run it; mostly so he can hand you the tasks of the day that he doesn't feel like handling. You're a secretary of sorts. He does, however, try to keep a distance between you and the other V’s. Mostly because he knows they can be a bit much and he doesn't want to scare you off just yet.

But it's inevitable that you would meet them someday. And, as he expected, the first meeting didn't go very well.

You and Vox were on your way down the hall in the middle of idle conversation that was mostly work related. You liked having these conversations with him, mostly because he always seemed so pleased when you'd give him an idea he liked or a change he'd consider. You felt useful in a way you hadn't really ever felt before-

“My my, if it isn't Vox and his new little pet” the voice speaks behind you and both you and Vox turn to see who it is. You are set on edge when Vox gets suddenly nervous.

“Val! I thought you had work down in the studio today?” Vox’s voice booms in the way you know he only does when he's trying to keep his cool. You make sure to stand a little closer to him when Val walks up to the two of you.

“You've been hiding from me, love. So I figured I'd pay a visit. Good thing too” the moth man leans down to you so close you feel your entire being beg to disappear.

“I wouldn’t have met the darling that's been keeping Voxy so occupied. Cosita bonita” he looks down at you, his smile alone sending a cold shiver up your spine. He grabs your hand and instead of doing anything normal like shaking or kissing it, he instead begins to lick up your arm.

“Rumor has it your little fall from grace betrays how sweet as you look” Horrified and feeling very familiar fear consume your being, you freeze up. Luckily, and rather surprisingly, Vox very quickly pulls him away from you.

“Alright, alright that's enough of that!” his tone is that of a light reprimand, though the swirls in his eyes betray him. He effortlessly spins the moth man around in something similar to a dance, ending with the two of them facing away from you. Whispered words are exchanged, Val glancing back at you for only a moment afterwards before walking off with no complaint.

Vox straightens his suit, his performative smile falling for a moment before turning back to you.

“Let's get back on our way” he beckons you as he continues to walk. You follow along, compliant as ever. He leads you to an elevator where the two of you get in and he clicks whatever floor he'd decided he had work on. You think everything is relatively normal until, with a wave of his hand, the elevator stops.

“What did he mean?” The question confuses you.

“...about what?” You ask, unsure what he was getting at. He turns to you.

“About your ‘fall from grace', what was he getting at?” the realization dawns on you the same way acid would drip into an old wound. There was really only one thing that could mean and the fact that a man you'd never met knew enough to mention it made you sick to your stomach.

“Kid?” He calls to you and it's only then you notice tears build in your eyes. You quickly blink them away before making sure to avoid looking in his general direction.

“I…don't know” you tried, very unconvincingly, to feign ignorance. Unfortunately that didn't go over well with him.

“I don't think I've met a worse liar in the entirety of Hell than you” he states plainly and you can't help but agree. You hadn't really ever had practice in the field. Yet even with his call on your bullshit you chose to stay silent.

“Look, If Val knows then chances are I'm finding out anyway. He's not exactly great at keeping his mouth shut” he tries to convince an answer out of you but his words only make it worse. You didn't want that creep to know in the first place! But, being ever so horrible at keeping such a cold front up, you break under his gaze.

“It’s why I'm in Hell” you start off vague and you notice how he leans in just a bit closer.

“Seriously? That's what's got you upset? What, was it embarrassing? Because believe me, I'm sure I've heard worse” he was really trying to sell you that notion, what with the wide smile and undivided attention, but you couldn't help the nagging voice that told you he wouldn't believe you.

But still, you assumed it better he heard it from you than Val. After all, you and Vox were pretty close at this point. If there was anyone that you'd tell, it would be him.

“No it's- well it is embarrassing, but-” you stammer a moment, trying to find the right way to say it. Soon enough you fix your eyes on the metal doors and just spill.

“I had an uncle. I lived with him for a while, most of my human life really. And he uh…I was just a kid at the time and he- he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Just kept…touching me. For years” the way the information pours out of you is forced. Like you have to pry it from your own mind and shove it out your throat. But there was no point stopping now.

“And then I just couldn't take it anymore. I don't even really know what happened. One second I was cooking dinner and the next he came behind me and…and then everything was bloody and…” you trail for a moment, your mind brought back to that horrific memory. Without a thought you finally turn to Vox.

He looks completely deflated, stripped of that egocentric smile of his and leaving nothing but a shocked still expression in its place. His mouth hangs slightly open as if to say something, but no words come. You feel your tears sting your eyes at the sight.

“No one believed me when I told them what he was doing, no one believed me when I told them for how long. So I knew when I killed him it would just be the same. That they'd make him a martyr and I'd be the villain and- and I couldn't deal with that! I- I didn't want to live through that again!” your voice raises at the end, voice pleading to be listened to, to be believed. Fuck, even just heard.

You get what you ask for with his stunned silence and tense posture. After a moment though you can't help but feel like you want to take your words back, his silence disturbing you greatly.

Just as you're about to ask him to forget what he'd heard, to pretend like you hadn't ever said anything and move on like normal, his hands reach slowly for you. The movement confuses you so greatly that you don't even think to stop him when he silently pulls you into him. You stand rigid for a long moment before, bit by bit, melting into sobs. He holds you tighter in the silence of the elevator and you can't help but grip onto him like your afterlife depended on it.

It's after this that Vox becomes fiercely protective of you. It's incredibly strange for everyone, including yourself. He is adamant that it's just because you know so much about his company, that it's all purely business. But when you think back to that day in the elevator you can't help but believe that he might just actually care about you.

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jaysgirlx · 7 months

Note

Can you do a fic based off of https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcsG8Yu/ this TikTok when Jason and reader was talking and it got deep and he joked about off!ng himself and the reader sits with him all night just in case he wasn’t joking? Please? I love your writing so much and if this is a touchy topic feel free to ignore or correct. Have a nice day!

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: jason todd x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: Jason and you are close, you always have been so close that you thought you knew him well enough to read his mind except you're wrong about that, and what you learn ends up scaring you more.

❥ warnings: mentions of death/suicide/afterlife, reminiscing of torture, heavy angst, little fluff, happy ending

❥ wc: 1.5k

Your fingers, combed through Jason's black locks while he focused his attention on you. The two of you had moments on these where you sat together in a comfortable silence. They tended to happen when one of you was upset, usually you but tonight you could tell something was wrong with Jason. So you kept quiet and let him rest. You didn't know if late nights like these would last forever.

"How long are you going to play with my hair princess?"

"Until you tell me what's wrong Jay"

Again you both fell into a silence. This time it was awkward like maybe you should've played dumb but it was too late night to think that. Jason sighed and sat up on your couch and laid his head on your lap. You tried to remove your hand from his hair but he gave this look like this is what he needed at least for tonight.

You weren't sure if or when you and Jason had crossed the friend boundary. The two of you obviously had not slept together but you had kissed numerous times. Sometimes when he was anxious you'd kiss him just to calm him down and it worked, except for the fact you'd end up making out. Or when he would go on patrol and you were worried he would kiss you and then he'd end up cuddling you till you slept off. The kisses you both shared were like little reassurances of love. Though the two of you never actually spoke about what they really meant.

You had wanted to for the longest time but you didn't because in the end you always knew that Jason cared for you. You could tell by the way he always left you breakfast when he had to leave while you were asleep or by the way he'd walk you home if you had decided to work overtime. Jason cared in his own little way and you take what you got especially since he made the best pancakes.

"I fought with Bruce today, he took Dick's side on something and I just got mad…I know they both care, but it doesn't feel like it sometimes y'know? It still feels like they're Batman and Nightwing and I'm still Robin" He stopped himself from speaking further like if he spoke more, he'd say something he'd regret. Jason didn't want to drop all his problems on you because he knew you would listen and he knew you'd comfort him. You did so much for him and was slightly worried he was becoming too much. Jason didn't want to become a burden to you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he didn't wan to fuck that up.

"I've always got your side Jay if that helps and you're not Robin anymore okay and regardless of that, Robin didn't make you…well you" you say, caressing his face. "You're just you Jay and if they've got a problem with you well then they have a problem with me"

"Well, I think I hate myself if I'm being honest" Those words made your hands stop and now you started to really listen. You knew Jason wasn't exactly happy with his life but you didn't think he hated himself. He was so cocky all the time that you couldn't even fathom the idea of him hating himself. "These days getting up in the mornings is so difficult and a good night's rest…I don't remember the last time I had one"

"Well I think we all can relate to that, life kinda sucks for all of us Jay. Everything we do is out of our hands and it seems like no matter how hard we try we're never fully just happy"

"You got that right, the last time I was really happy was…well nevermind, But sometimes I think about killing myself"

"Well I mean we all have, I thought about it a couple of times when work gets hard but-

"No y/n, I mean like really killing myself, like just putting my gun to my head and that's it." He laughs but you still don't manage to find it funny. "I know damn well there will be plenty of people who will probably find it pretty, my brains splattered everywhere and my body lifeless"

"I'd really prefer you'd not do that Jay"

"Okay but in all seriousness-"

"I don't want to hear this Jay"

"I'd want you to plan my funeral, you'd make it beautiful and hopefully not gloomy"

"Jay is this a funny matter, stop joking around"

"I doubt there's an afterlife, seeing that I did die once and I don't remember any floating gates or firey pits"

"Jay please stop it"

"C'mon we both know without you, I'd be better off-"

"No." you said and it came out broken. Jason looked up at you, you weren't playing with his hair anymore, you were crying. He tried to reach up and your tears away but you pushed away his hand. He hadn't meant to upset you, he didn't mean it. Well, he did but he wasn't going to, not when you still cared for him. You were what he was living for. "No, you can't do that Jay"

He again tries to wipe your tears and this time you let him, he sits up and kisses your forehead wishing he had never said anything. You were his world and all he could ever ask for. Without you, who would be there for him after a bad run on patrol? or when his nightmares would start coming back? Deep down Jason Todd is scared of living, he's scared of living without you. "I won't sweetheart, I won't, I promise. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that"

Now he's holding you and rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you fell back into your comfortable silence, while Jason made himself comfortable again laying his head on your lap. He hates seeing you that way, with that look of fear and worry. He never wanted to cause it. He wanted to say something but all those hours of patrol and working overtime finally caught up to him. He thought he'd just take a nap, he didn't want to burden you with how heavy he was, lying on his lap but he couldn't help you, your lap was so comfy.

For a while, you watched Jason and didn't know why you were. He said he wouldn't hurt himself, he promised. Still, you were scared because of the way he talked about it...it was clear it wasn't the first time. You knew he had fallen asleep, his tell was that his breathing had slowed. You picked that up when he started coming over early in that morning to nap with you. Jason was only ever truly calm when was he asleep with you.

Watching him like this felt natural like you had to do this. You knew he was serious about killing himself and you just couldn't imagine a life with him, without Jason. Gently you caressed his sleeping face, admiring how handsome he was. The things that happened to him, you knew they affected him but you didn't want to think he'd go as far as to…no you couldn't think of it.

You leaned your own body back on the couch and tried to relax. You'd stay all night with him if you had to, you'd make sure he was safe. You weekend a vigilante like him, you couldn't fight and protect him from villains but you could protect him from himself. It probably seems crazy that you want to protect Jason Todd from himself but it's all you know how to do. You're not completely sure if Jason loves you but you know that you love him.

"I will always be with you, I'm yours Jay, I'm with you" you whisper sweetly against his forehead, before planting a soft kiss. You watch him all night and he sleeps quietly and hopefully comfortably with his head resting on your lap. You didn't work the next day and you had stayed up all night before, this wouldn't be difficult for you.

Even if it was, it was for Jason and he was always worth any trouble. You wish you could tell him that but that's a conversation for another time, for now, you just want to make sure he is still alive every morning.

When Jason Todd wakes up the following morning, you're drinking what he thinks is probably coffee and reading a book. His eyes fixate on you and he reaches up to brush his hand against your face, you smile at the soft touch. HE lets out a yawn and finally speaks up, "Whatcha doing up so early, princess?"

"Just admiring you Jay"

"M'sorry for sleeping on you, and I'm even more sorry for making you feel upset last night, you're…you're very important to me y/n, and as long as you'll have me, I'll be here"

"And I'm with you, for as long as you'll have me" you say with a smile as you hand him the rest of your coffee. He drank the rest before gently pressing a kiss to your lips. Another reassure of his love

Jason Todd was yours for a lifetime and you were happy with just that.

❥ a/n: sorry this took so long anon! I kept rewriting it because I didn't like how it was going. btw comment to be added to my taglist.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @nia-jul, @woodenanemone, @millyhelp, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @kazzattack, @orchidsangel

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sickuma · 1 year

Text

SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug.

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

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pressureplus · 1 month

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hello!! can i pls ask for headcanons or a lil story abt sebastian coping with the loss of expendable reader he had relationship with? like they knew eachother long enough and had a lil sum going, and out of the blue reader gets really hurt and dies in sebs arms (doesn’t come back either like how u would in the game, ik some stories follow that) need that angst !!!

(keep up the amazing work also!! i love ur guys stories and hc :3)

Thank you, all of your support means so much to us, we're so happy you guys like our work!

Anyway, here, have a little angst in the form of some Headcannons! I turned the angst on this one aaaall the way up for you by making you not only a lover, but literally the centerpiece of this man's life, he was OBSESSED and COMPLETELY IN LOVE with you to a crippling extent ❤️

Sebastian Solace Grieving Headcannons

Warnings: Death, Grief, a mention of injury as a metaphor, and the light implications of Suicide

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

• When you passed, it didn't feel real to him... It still doesn't.

• You'd been in his arms when it happened, his large, clawed hands clutching you like you were slipping away from him- and you were.

• He had begged you not to leave him here, pleading and bargaining like it might keep the light in your beautiful eyes for a while longer

• But it was to no avail. Now, he is alone.

• He doesn't talk to the expendables anymore, shutting everyone out was the very first thing that he did when he had to wake up in your shared bed by himself that first morning after what had happened

• He knows you wanted him out of here, and it's the only thing that keeps him alive most days

• That and the need to put an end to HADAL the way that it put an end to you.

• He blames the company, yes, and he definitely blames what or who actually killed you, but the rest of that guilt rests on his own shoulders

• "I should have been there... I should have done something to stop it."

• "Why is it I could only cry?"

• "I don't even know what I'm going to do now that you're gone, Y/N..."

• "Please... Please come back?"

• Doesn't see a future for himself anymore, now that he knows what it is to have you in his life, he just doesn't want anything else

• His existence is solely for spite and for vengeance, now, no point in attempting to move on

• Is more aggressive, generally, to an extent he will get hostile with people more often and even become an active threat to anyone that enters the shop without actively purchasing something from him

• The thought he may grow attached to someone again is one that haunts him, he will be having absolutely NONE of that ever again

• He's a broken man

• Sometimes, he dreams that he can hold you the way that he knows you used to like, and he gets to lay in bed when he wakes up remembering how sweet it was to kiss you and how wonderful your laugh used to be

• He'll lay awake and miss you... But the reminiscing is the only time he's even close to happy anymore

• It's an abstract sort of closeness, the comfort he finds in allowing himself to linger in your memory the only real ease that he takes anymore

• It's a fresh wound that he seems to genuinely enjoy leaving to bleed, definitely not a healthy way to brew in his ever growing sorrow

• The long, long months he spends in the Blacksite alone are empty and void of what little life they'd managed to have before. The color in everything is drained out like the hope that he'd managed to hold onto for so long

• When he eventually leaves and leaks the information that actually DOES end up avenging you, he watches HADAL fall to ruin, unable to get their prisoners anymore and unable to continuing to stay upright for it

• Watching that place burn brought him some peace, honestly, but it just wasn't enough. Nothing was ever going to be enough without you

• He only has one thing left to do. He knows there's really only one thing left he can do for you.

• The public will find his body strung over a gravesite with your name on it the very next morning after everything came to it's close on his plans, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a newspaper with an article on HADAL's corruption on the cover, and whatever little treasures you'd given him over the years in his still, clawed hands

• And for the first time since you left him:

• Sebastian is smiling.

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pluralthey · 3 months

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this is really silly, I've sent asks before, I'm just thinking again about how your work means a lot to me. i first read drop-out when i was *fifteen* and thats insane to me. I'm 21 now and your art influenced my growing brain in.. oh so many ways. drop-out was especially important because. here's someone who truly believes she's so fucked in the brain that there's no hope, it looks like her and lola are GOING to kill themselves with no other option.. and then they just dont. they just keep moving along. no promise of a perfect life, because that's not how it is when you're pulled back from the edge. but they keep moving forward and hope to make something new.

i don't know. I'm just another person who might never be NOT depressed and your work was one that showed me you can work with that if you simply keep moving. please do not feel pressure to answer this - i just wanted to tell you again. thanks for sticking around. i look forward to getting into idletry

thank you. i don't usually answer asks like this one, but i've been thinking about drop-out's ending lately. nothing in particular -- it's just been coming to mind as i start a new comic. i wrote drop-out 9 years ago. i cannot even feel guilt about the story anymore, because i'm at a point in my life now where i know that the confusion and bravado of your early 20s doesn't last forever. i haven't had a suicidal thought in a couple of years now. i have less energy, no partner, and more pain, but when i make art, i have things to say that no one else can, and i want to keep saying those things. i cannot say that it's gotten better for me, but you can touch so many people by just saying something. i'm glad that drop-out still helps people. i get messages here or there about it to this day. i know that idletry won't touch people in the same way; it isn't meant to.

#not art #ask #asks #suicide

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mrsnancywheeler · 8 months

Text

the river (3) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

4.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mental illness, self-hate, suicid/l ideation, brainwashing, paranoia, mentions of trafficking, s/h in the form of scratching, breakups, no use of y/n, unedited, President Snow, threats, slightly mean!finnick towards conway

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick wanted to beg the doctors to see you, but he also was terrified of pushing you into another breakdown. So he'd settled for sitting outside the hospital room’s two-way glass at all times. He didn't sleep, he couldn't, nor eat so he just watched. At first you'd been sedated, but you were relatively calm if untrusting. Which was nothing, especially compared to Peeta who'd tried to kill Katniss. You were quiet, voice small and shaky except when your distrust took over.

A doctor had been trying to get you to swallow some pills with your water which you'd been adamantly refusing, “I don't know what it is."

“It's just a medicine to help fight off any infections you might have." The doctor explained and Finnick was grateful that she was more patient than the others. Yet you still looked uneasy, “We can go over what's in it and what it'll do if you want." The doctor suggested and you slowly, unsurely nodded. They'd showed you the bottle, read to you, and let you read the bottle information before you'd finally agreed to take it.

After hours of this Finnick couldn't help himself anymore, "I want to talk to her.” He abruptly stood from his chair and stared at the medical staff.

"She's calm right now, it might not be wise to do something that could disturb her.”

“Can't you just explain it to her somehow, I'll stay in a chair in the corner, won't move a muscle, you can handcuff me. I need to talk to her." There were sighs, hushed arguments before an agreement was eventually made. So, he stood outside waiting as the doctors tried to convince you to see him.

“Someone wants to see you now, if that's okay. He'll stay right in that chair, won't move at all, if you feel uncomfortable and you call out for us, okay?”

You looked at her, untrusting, "Who?”

She sighed and sat down on the hospital bed with you, she must have decided you were less of a threat and more someone who had to be communicated with. It hurt Finnick to know you'd let a doctor you'd never met so close, but were terrified of him. “You remember that you're married, right?"

“He wants me dead." It was like you couldn't get it off your tongue fast enough.

“No he doesn't." The doctor says, very decidedly and before you can get your next words out she insisted, “We'll all be right outside, so if he did want to kill you we wouldn't let him.”

You shook your head, “No, you wouldn't."

“Why do you think that?"

You laughed a little, “Because I'm a threat, you don't know what I did or didn't reveal, and everyone knows that I…” You trailed off. He couldn't grasp his head around the idea that you were still so attached to that perception of yourself, you did what you had to do, to stay alive.

"Coin granted all the victors rescued immunity. We've got no reason to want you dead.” Silence. You stared at her, she stared back at you. The words must have registered, but you seemed to be too deeply steeped in denial.

“I want to talk to Peeta.” The universe despised Finnick, he was sure of it.

"We can't let you do that.” She said softly.

"Why not?"

"He tried to kill Katniss Everdeen.”

You shook your head, "No, he wouldn't do that. They're just in his head, he'll remember.” The irony of it all, Peeta wanted Katniss dead, and you thought Finnick wanted you gone as well.

“Did they get in your head too?"

You laughed again, “No, no, they didn't."

“Then why do you think Finnick wants you dead?"

You take a deep breath in and sound frustrated, hands bunching up the thin hospital blanket, “They're not in my head! They just showed me what I wasn't paying attention to, I know what happened, and the things I've done. I'm not crazy.” Your voice shook like you were going to cry.

"No one here thinks you're crazy.” Finnick could tell there was more the doctor wanted to say, but was holding out in fear of you devolving. "He will sit in a chair the entire time and no one will let him any closer, I promise you."

Finnick prayed to whatever might have been that they'd let him have a moment, that he'd be able to help you. Your head was buried in your hands, “Okay." You finally muttered and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The doctor smiled, giving an encouraging squeeze to your shoulder as she stood up. Pushing the only chair in the room up against the far wall before exiting. Finnick was anxiously messing with his piece of rope when the doctor finally approached him. “You've got the go ahead, but stay in the chair, no sudden movements, it might startle her enough to make her panic."

“I understand." Finnick nodded and the doctor waited a moment before she opened the door, letting him slowly walk into the bright, white room. And there you were, legs pulled up against your chest like it would give you some extra barrier. He wanted to hold you, to tell you it was all going to be okay, but Snow had even taken that away from him so he sat in the chair. “Hi, sweet girl." He gave a soft smile while you wearily observed him. You were silent though, "Do you know who I am, angel?” He knew you did, but just needed to hear you say something, anything to him.

Every so slowly you nodded, hands rubbing at your neck, "Finnick Odair.”

He hummed a yes,"Mhm, good job. Do you know what we are?” Finnick tilted his head slightly.

You nodded, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, “I care about you."

He nodded, “We care about each other. We got married, do you remember that?"

“People keep saying it." Stinging pain covered his chest, Snow had taken what was left of your trust, your happiest moments, and left you with the husk of anxiety. “I'm sorry, I can't, I don't know." You hit your head with the bottom of your and started crying.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, don't do that, it's alright!" He wanted to leap up, move your hands away, and have you in his arms. “You don't need to feel bad, angel, can you just tell me what you do know."

Your face became sober almost immediately, “You want to kill me."

“No." He said just as fast, “I'd never want that-"

“You don't have to lie to me, I understand. I can't be trusted, it's a smart move." Hands were back to rubbing your neck.

"What you did to survive all those years ago, when we were teenagers, doesn't mean you're not trustworthy. I trust you." He felt like he was going to cry, he was back at square one, when you'd returned from your games, but now you didn't even trust him.

You shook your head rapidly, “You're trying to get in my head!" There the tears were and his elbows landed on his knees so he could hide the fact his hands served to hide his cries. The world would've been a much kinder place if he was dead, if you were dead, if everyone could just die and stop this endless circle of torture. This was his inescapable boulder he kept pushing up the hill only to see it roll down over and over again, maybe if he'd died the first time around or even in the quarter quell the finality of death would bring peace. His eyes must have been bloodshot when he lifted them from his hands, only to grab the rope again. He needed more rationality to talk to you, this could help him ground himself because if had to live, it had to be with you.

“You used to teach me to tie ropes." You eventually muttered out, curse you and the way you were trying to say something to help him when he was at his weakest, even though you were convinced he wanted you dead.

He looked up from the knot and tried to smile appreciatively even if his eyes were still watery, “Yeah, I did.” He swallowed even though his mouth was completely dry, "I am. I am teaching you to tie ropes.”

You maintained eye contact with him for a while, like you were trying to read into the depths of his soul and he hoped you would find how genuine he was being. You leaned your head back onto the wall, “I could always do most of the knots after the first few times, but I liked it when you would keep helping me.”

"I know.” He missed it, all the times you'd grumble about the activity until he was right behind you, hands on yours where you'd suddenly seem a lot less aggravated. Then you were sobbing and he dug his hands into the chairs arms rests to force himself to stay seated. Not being able to touch you, help you on top of trying to convince you that he loved you was like his own personal hell, so perfectly built.

“See I couldn't even stop myself from lying about that." You choked out through the tears, the rubbing of your neck was turning into scratching.

“That was endearing, I could never hate you for something like that, I could never hate you." You didn't respond to that, the scratching was getting worse, “Sweet girl, you're gonna hurt yourself, you gotta stop." He pleaded, but you were too far gone, muttering things too low to hear under your breath. “God, I can't even help you." Finnick could feel another tear falling down his face, he couldn't grab your hands, breathe with you, keep you comforted, it was eating him up inside and out. So he did the only thing he could, call out for the doctors who quickly marched in to stop you. That's when the yelling that could print his ears with the cacophony of your agony for all of eternity, began. It was remarkable how many people it took to hold you down and get you sedated,

Finnick wished he'd savored every moment he could've had with you. There'd never been a point in leaving you the first time, you were bound to be dragged into the Games, he wasn't the fire that burned you. He could've stayed with you, had so many more moments to think about. Time with you was precious, delicate and he would do whatever it took to have you back

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were like heaven and he should have known that was something he wasn't worthy of. It was easy to forget that though when with each month he became more and more infatuated, it felt impossible to be as in love with someone as he was with you and so quickly. It just seemed like you understood each other, were so similar, but also filled the gaps for whatever the other lacked. He wanted to take you out every day and when he was feeling more impatient for your company he'd buy out the whole stock of crabs just so you could be off earlier. By the first month of going out he has noticed an interesting development in who Finnick considered to be the worst thorn in his side, Conway.

“Who's that?" Finnick had asked one day, tilting his head in the direction of Conway and a girl who he was with.

You smiled so brightly it made him want to live in a world where it was his sunshine, “Oh, that's Meena! They're going out now." Maybe that thorn was finally being removed.

"She looks just like you.” Finnick whispered slyly.

“She does not!" You rolled your eyes and glanced over at her, "I mean we have the same hair color. So maybe a little."

"And you're both similar heights, same face shape, I wonder if you both have the same eye color too.” You playfully hit his arm as a warning.

"It's better than him being single and moping around, it was kind of driving me insane how melancholy he was being.”

“Because he's madly in love with you." Finnick teased, hands on your waist.

“No, he's just got a crush because he won't talk to other girls. And now he's out of his shell.”

"Because he's madly in love with you and you picked me.” He smiled, leaning his face in closer.

"You're such a dick!” Yet you were smiling and your face was so close to his.

"No, I'm just saying how lucky I am.” You rolled your eyes again and Finnick used it as the perfect opportunity to kiss you which you instantly reciprocated. He was right about Conway and Meena of course, right after Finnick had broken your heart, he'd heard through the grapevine that they'd broken up. Conway was able to take his place back as having some sort of chance with you.

He'd miss the way you'd lay with your head on top of his chest at the beach, didn't stray away from being seen with him in any sense, if the Capitol cameras followed him around you would easily fall into keeping up his appearances for them, he should've been more cautious. When he was upset and couldn't tell you why, you'd hold him, rub his back, do anything to try and help. Which is why when Snow showed up at his house in Victor's Village he felt like any semblance of happiness was being torn away from his grasp.

“President Snow." He greeted, slowly walking inside of the room.

“Mr. Odair, the Capitol has missed you, so much in fact that I had to make this very disappointing visit.”

"I wasn't aware I was needed back so urgently, or else I would have come.” Usually he was notified of the visits, who wanted him now, and when.

"Of course you would've, but would you have been fully there?”

"I don't understand what you're talking about.”

"Your performance, to be enjoying their company, has been lackluster. People aren't convinced that you're, how shall we say it, emotionally present on top of everything else.” He wasn't, it was so much easier to check out of everything.

"I'm sorry.”

Snow hummed, "If people aren't convinced, they're dissatisfied, if they aren't satisfied then I'm dissatisfied, and we both know the outcomes of that.” Everyone he cared about dead, him lonely.

“Yes, I'll do better."

Snow's smile was so menacing, snake-like it sent shivers down Finnick's spike. “Good, we wouldn't want any complaints trickling down, would we?” He turned on a projection of something Finnick couldn't quite decipher. "She's very pretty, I'm sure no one would be pleased if the dissatisfaction continued.” Finnick felt numb all the way through, it was you, arms around him. How could he have been so stupid as to not think about you?

"It won't.” Finnick said quickly, voice choking involuntary.

"Oh good, I wouldn't want to have to get creative with it.” Snow rose from the chair, “The train will be here to pick you up in two days, Mr. Odair." Then the man who smelled of blood and roses was gone, abandoning Finnick with the feeling of lead in his stomach. He had to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, make you less of a target, shrink the one already on your back. He sunk into the chair he was closest to. Trying to remind himself to breathe as he tried to figure out how he was going to break your heart. How do you spend almost a year with someone, praising the ground they walk on and then suddenly leave them in the dust. He couldn't be cruel to you, not when you were so kind. The idea that you would put your walls up again and completely shut him out made his chest ache, a pain that threatened to tear him apart.

He'd have to give you up, condemn you to the life you didn't want to live. Watch as you lose the hope of something newer, something that wasn't expected and settled for the life everyone saw for you. Maybe that's why Conway made him want to be meaner, his blood boil, because deep down Finnick knew that if he didn't have you, Conway's persistence to love you would pay off. You'd stop being the girl who would barter for things she enjoyed if only for a moment, there would be no more fantasies of your soul finally feeling complete, the way you'd both felt together. To protect you, he'd have to put a damper on the dreams.

Finnick hated thinking about how he was supposed to see you that night, how he'd promised to meet you at the beach since you'd insisted you didn't care about the weather as long as you could see him. He'd have only as long as it took to shatter the hopes of being with each other to memorize you. Your smile, your laughter, your playful banter, the way your eyes twinkled, the smell of peaches and the sea, and tasted like peaches and vanilla. For the rest of time you'd only exist as moments he cherished in his brain, distance would be pivotal. No more escapes from your life to his lavish parties, that association would still be close enough to get you hurt, you'd have to be cut off from any droplets of the Fountain of Love he was to you.

He'd steadied himself when the clock had finally ticked to the time that told him to go to the beach, to his ending with you. Time to subject himself to a lifetime of acting for Panem and you to submit to fate. The fates that had decided you'd both had your run and needed to get back on the roads planned out for you. It was windy and cloudy over the ocean, like he was being mocked. He stood there, staring at the stormy horizon that lay ahead of him until you appeared.

“Hi!" The way you smiled like the sun made him think he couldn't do this to you, to himself. He solemnly nodded in response and your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, you were so beautiful. “What's wrong? Are you not feeling good, we can just go inside, I'll make soup." This was a torture method, how was he supposed to hurt someone who wanted to take care of him at the slightest sensing of upset.

"No, I feel fine.” He said it too sharply and it visibly took you aback. You'd both bickered before, only when someone directly caused it, and then you'd both get over it. Usually someone would do something to get you both to laugh it off, but he'd never been harsh with you.

You crossed your arms like they would provide some sort of defense, the walls were already being put up as far as Finnick was concerned. “Sorry." You stopped looking directly at him, eyes focused on the sand, he wanted to say ‘No, I'm sorry. You're so sweet and you look so pretty.’ To kiss you, your cheeks, your forehead, for his lips to memorize you. The silence was brisk and awkward until you'd felt forced to break it, “So, are we swimming?" He shook his head and it was hard to miss the way you scoffed, “Okay, um, do you just wanna sit and talk? We can do that." How were you still so considerate and sounded so soft, when you were so annoyed? Maybe the barrier wasn't around you, but him because you made no move to give a comforting touch like you usually would, like you weren't sure it would be received well. “Finnick, if you're gonna be in one of your moods and not let me help, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna go home."

“I'm breaking up with you." It spilled off of his lips in a way that made him want to burn them off. He watched the look in your eyes go from concerned annoyance to sad shock.

“What?" The way your voice became shakier made him want to give up on the whole endeavor, say it was some fucked up joke he was dared to do. “What do you mean?" A small nervous laugh forced itself from your throat.

Finnick took a deep breath in, “I can’t be with you anymore.”

"Can't? What does that mean?” It would've been easier if you just cried and ran off.

"It's just not working out.” He didn't want to lie, say it's how he felt or what he wanted, but he had to get you away from the ticking time bomb.

"For who?” You sounded exasperated.

"I can't explain it, I just have to do this, it's better for you, for both of us.” He pushed down the part of him that wanted to start bawling, begging you to refuse to let him go. "I have to protect you.”

To his surprise you didn't pester on that question more and he watched a tear escape from your glossy eyes, "Don't say that.” You shook your head, bringing your hands up to your face to catch the tears. “You can't break up with me and say stuff like that, it's mean." He was confused and it was evident, "It makes me love you so much more.” No, no, no, no you couldn't say stuff like that when he was supposed to rid himself of you. It wasn't fair.

His fingers ran through his tangled hair, "I'm sorry. I really am, but it means you can't be around at all anymore, anywhere. You need to be as far from me as you can be." You tilted your head upwards, towards the sky, closing your eyes as you exhaled. "Say you hate me."

“What?" You looked at him.

“Say you hate me, hit me, tell me to go fuck myself, something. Be angry with me." He could feel the tears escaping, they were supposed to do that.

“Finnick, I'm not going to do that." Then you were unclasping the necklace, the one that you'd work every day since he'd given it to, and it was in your hands instead of around your neck.

“What're you doing?"

“Letting myself know it's over." Then the necklace was in the ocean, floating away, like any hopes and dreams of being with you. The way you'd built your walls back up, stopped crying, blocked him out from your feelings, astonished him. You trusted him enough to take him at his word, that he needed to protect you, and listened. Distance in the mind as well as in person. “Finnick, take care of yourself." You sent him a small, sad smile and then it was like the wind had blown you away. Out of his grasp forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“She agreed to see you again." Finnick's head shot up, the doctors wouldn't let him stay in your room so he initially had planted himself in a chair outside. Eventually they'd just rolled in a hospital bed when they realized he wasn't going to be leaving. He'd spent every second diligently watching over you, making sure you were alright from afar. You'd been sedated most of the time since your breakdown before except when you ate and sat solemnly with your thoughts. “Same rules apply, don't get closer unless she asks, keep a calm, steady tone." Finnick nodded with the doctor's words waiting to be let in.

“I understand." The door clicked open and he was back in that chair across the room. “Hey, angel. Are you feeling better?" Your blanket was pulled up as far as you get it over your knee that was pulled up, holding your face up.

You slowly shook your head, “It's cold." And he couldn't be the heat to contrast that, he couldn't even rise to get you a blanket.

“I can ask them if they can make it warmer or at least get more blankets."

You nodded into your leg,"I'm so lonely, I know you want me dead, but I miss you so much and I'm not even sure why.”

Because you had to know deep down that he would move mountains to keep you safe, that all that had really come forward was from your own self hate. "Why don't we play a game.” You looked at him confused, "You ask me if something is real or not real when you're struggling to tell. Just those words and I'll help you figure it out, angel.”

"How am I supposed to know you'll tell me the truth?”

"You just have to trust me.” You observed him like you were waiting to see a crack in the facade, for a muscle to indicate his deceit. You leaned back in the bed, letting your leg rest.

"You hate me, real or not real.”

"Not real.” You stared at the white ceiling.

"Why not?” There was a beat of silence, "I'm perfectly deserving of it, so why not?”

"Anything you think you did that's worth hating yourself over was something that couldn't be helped, you're so sweet, I could never hate you just because your hand was forced when you were a teenager.” Your eyes shifted back down to look at him, “You don't have to believe me yet, there's a lot going on, but it's true. I love you more than the ocean loves the moon.”

"There's just so much going on in my head. I want to believe you so badly, but something in my head says I can't.” You covered your face to try and hide the fact you'd begun to cry. The things he would've given to kiss away your tears.

“That's okay, sweet girl, I have all the time in the world to prove to that voice otherwise." It was painful to stay seated, to know he had to regain all the privileges he'd once had.

You rubbed at your neck again which worried him to no end, “Can you come closer?”

Finnick wanted to jump up, but he couldn't. "Are you sure?” You nodded and he ever so slowly stood up. "How close?” He asked.

You took some deep breaths to calm yourself before you answered, "Over here."

“You're sure?"

Your breathing was shaky, “Yeah." He was terrified of scaring you away. So he approached cautiously to see if you'd eventually startle, but you didn't. Then he was standing right beside you and it was even harder now not to reach out. Ever so slowly you grabbed his hands, fingers tracing around his palms, each callous, and then you were trailing up to his face. He was confused, but didn't make a mention of it. Your fingers lead themselves around his face, rose with his nose, like they were memorizing each crevice of his face. He shuddered when he felt your touch, it had been so long and your cold hands soothed his hot skin. Then your touch was gone and he instantly missed it, longed for it back. “Thank you. I'm sorry."

“It's okay, sweet girl." You moved away from him and settled yourself laying down.

"Can you lay with me?” You whispered out.

"Of course, angel.” Underneath his facade he was ecstatic as he slid into the spot you'd left for him.

"Can you just keep your hands on top of you, so I can see them?” Your voice was so nervous.

"Absolutely.” His hands landed firmly on his stomach as he lay there with you.

Maybe now the long rope didn't seem as appealing.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading and all the support! comments, feedback, reblogs, and likes are all super appreciated. my ask box and requests are open, I've got some I'm working on right now, love you all so much 💋

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fangirl-erdariel · 2 years

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Ok I know this has been said before and more eloquently than I can rn (it's past midnight and I should be sleeping)

But the older I get, the more important it becomes to me that Eowyn is in a really dark place mentally when we first meet her in the book. That she rides to war out of suicidality, to get herself killed in battle. And that she heals, finds the will to live, finds the desire to heal things and make things beautiful rather than attempting to give her life meaning through dying a "glorious" violent death in battle.

I think when I was 12-ish and first read the book (or had it read to me as a bedtime story, rather, but same difference), I liked her because "oh look cool girl warrior character who doesn't do what she's told and defeats the monstrous evil bad guy no one else could kill!" And that is. that's fair, honestly. I was 12. I don't think I would want my 12-year-old self to have fully grasped the implications of Eowyn's actions, to have really understood that underlying despair and suicidality. I liked cool warrior girl heroes (I still do, honestly). And Eowyn does do amazing things, she is a hero, she does fulfill the prophecy and kill the Witch King, and it is cool, I'm not saying it isn't.

But like. Living in this world, reading the news, a lot of times I end up feeling just this utter despair and horror and helplessness at the bad things happening. And because of that, I really do end up feeling it when I look at Eowyn and see her despair, see how she's trying to die in battle because she doesn't want to go on living like that anymore and because she thinks her death in battle would make more difference and be more meaningful than her going on living.

And it's just so important to me that then at the end of the story, she's able to look at where she is and who she is and look at the world and go "no, actually, I want to live. I've had enough of death, I want to heal things, I want to make other people and other things also live". That she's able to want that, and believe that she is able to achieve that, that her life can have a purpose and meaning beyond a death worth telling a story about, and that that's something she wants to do, wants to work towards. It is just so important to me

Like, LOTR is in so many ways a story about hope and despair, it's present in damn near every character we meet in some way. And maybe it's just because I imprinted on Eowyn as a kid that her story in particular and her being able to overcome the despair and be hopeful about life again is so important to me but like. Fuck. The more horrible things I see happening everywhere in the world all around me, the more important Eowyn's story and her being able to find peace and healing becomes to me

#eowyn #lotr #lord of the rings #middle earth #meta #lotr eowyn #lotr meta

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zionworkzs · 1 year

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Alright, let's talk about this scene in S1 Ep3:

Let's take this line by line, shall we? I added in some stage directions so we can see the acting choices alongside the dialogue (because this scene!!! this scene!! there is so much unsaid and communicated via body language).

*Crowley gets into his car and Aziraphale miracles inside*

C: *surprised*

C: What are you doing here?

A: I needed a word with you.

C: What?

A: I work in Soho. I hear things. I hear that you're setting up a...

A: *looks at Crowley*

A: caper. To rob a church.

C: *looks away from Aziraphale*

A: *concerned* Crowley, it's too dangerous. Holy Water won't just kill your body, it will destroy you completely.

C: *annoyed* You told me what you think. 105 years ago.

A: And I haven't changed my mind. But I can't have you risking your life. Not even for something dangerous. So... *pulls out thermos* you can call off the robbery.

C: *looking at Aziraphale, clearly surprised*

A: Don't go unscrewing the cap.

A: *not looking at Crowley anymore*

C: *looking between the thermos and Aziraphale* It's the real thing?

A: The holiest.

C: *attention fully on Aziraphale now* After everything you said?

A: *nods, still not looking at Crowley*

C: Should I say thank you?

C: *still looking at Aziraphale*

A: *pointedly NOT looking at Crowley*

A: Better not.

C: Well, can I drop you anywhere?

A: No. Thank you.

A: *briefly glancing at Crowley*

A: Don't look so disappointed.

A: *looking away again*

A: Perhaps one day we could, I don't know. Go for a picnic.

A: *looking at Crowley now*

A: Dine at the Ritz.

C: I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.

*silence, and the longest amount of time Aziraphale looks at Crowley this whole scene*

A: You go too fast for me, Crowley.

*both looking at each other for a beat before Aziraphale exits*

OKAY SO HOLY HECK

I feel like this scene gets boiled down to THAT line we all remember (and we'll get there), but I feel like the whole scene and the context is so so important if we want to understand THAT line.

So the background info:

1862 AD - London, St James Park: Crowley asks for holy water.

1941 AD - London: Aziraphale meets with Nazi agents inside a church. Crowley swoops in to save the day (and the books). We have the magic show and the lovely candelit dinner afterwards.

This scene takes place in 1967 in Soho, London presumably.

So, since 1862 when Crowley first asks, Aziraphale has been thinking about this request of his. Aziraphale presumes in 1862 that Crowley wants the Holy Water as a "suicide pill," and Crowley never corrects this assumption.

So, Aziraphale is under the impression that in 1967 he is giving Crowley a tool to use for his own destruction, if it comes to that.

He goes against Heaven and, from our understanding, steals Holy Water so he can give it to Crowley.

The implications of this are DEEP and COMPLEX. Because this is the FIRST time we see Aziraphale directly go against Heaven without any kind of moral out. He isn't saving Job's children. He's literally defying Heaven to protect Crowley from doing something stupid.

It's a purely selfish action that directly goes against Heaven.

This is HUGE for his character. And as I've talked about a bit in this post, I think by this point, Aziraphale was fully aware he was in love with Crowley.

This, THIS, is proof of his devotion to Crowley. Going against Heaven overtly to supply him with something he believes Crowley will use to end himself.

You can see Aziraphale's guilt and concern in this scene simply through how he choses when to look at Crowley and when to not (michael sheen, I'm in ur walls).

He looks at Crowley concerned when he talks about the church heist. He says as such. That he thinks it's too dangerous. He pointedly DOESN'T look at Crowley once he hands over the Holy Water. Like he can't bring himself to come to terms with what he's done. (Looking out for the person he loves by giving them a means of their own destruction.)

And this little interaction:

C: Should I say thank you? C: *looking at Aziraphale* A: *pointedly NOT looking at Crowley* A: Better not.

He doesn't want Crowley to thank him for what he perceives to be a sin. For giving him the ability to end himself. It hurts Aziraphale to think about. I think, even being in the car near Crowley hurts Aziraphale then.

Then we get the exchange at the end.

Crowley offering to drop Aziraphale off, which the angel denies.

Aziraphale clearly reading Crowley's disappointment and offering a fantasy of the future he doesn't believe they have in an attempt to cheer the demon up.

A: Perhaps one day we could, I don't know. Go for a picnic. A: *looking at Crowley now* A: Dine at the Ritz.

He looks at Crowley for the briefest of moments when he says "dine at the Ritz."

These things that Aziraphale is offering are normal, human pastimes. Nothing grand or overtly romantic. Just, a picnic. Dinner. It goes to show us how deeply Aziraphale loves humanity and recognizes that same love in Crowley (even if their love presents itself in different ways).

He's saying: one day, when I'm not me, and you're not you, we can do the things humans do. We can be simple.

And then, of course:

C: I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.

Crowley says this line almost desperately. He wants to stay in this moment. He wants to draw it out. This moment where this angel he's befriended cares for him so deeply that he'd risk everything.

I haven't talked much about Crowley in this scene because at this point in their relationship, and I know this is controversial, I don't think Crowley is in love with Aziraphale here.

I talked about it in the aforementioned post, but it's my interpretation of Crowley's character to be naturally distrusting of others. Which makes sense given his history.

I don't think he's in love with Aziraphale in 1967.

But I think he recognizes Aziraphale's love for him, even if only for the briefest moment. He sees Aziraphale's willingness to save Crowley from himself and knows that there is something there.

But he is SCARED. Big scared. And he doesn't know how to deal with the influx of information being presented to him.

And I think he reads between the lines of Aziraphale's words. He hears Aziraphale say: one day, when I'm not me, and you're not you...

I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go. Is Crowley saying: You're saying we have to be different people, but we don't. I can take you right now to a picnic, to the Ritz. Nothing has to change. We can be us.

And Aziraphale says:

A: You go too fast for me, Crowley.

You go too fast for me, you treat life like a speedrun to get to the good parts. Hell, Crowley slept through the 19th century because he wanted time to move forward. Aziraphale recognizes this. He's in love with this demon who won't slow down and appreciate the mundane, human things that Aziraphale treasures. He goes too fast. He never settles down.

And I think this is a gross misunderstanding of Crowley's character on Aziraphale's part. He thinks Crowley is too fast and never settles down. Changes his hair, his clothes, his accent. But the clothes and the hair are all set dressings to Crowley. They are distractions from how set in his ways he truly is.

Crowley is s l o w to everything.

So slow that it scares the shit out of him and he overcompensates by re-inventing his image every chance he gets. He wants to blend in with his surroundings so he can be just like everybody else.

It's a deep self-hatred most likely instilled in him since before his Fall. He was not good enough for Heaven. He isn't bad enough for Hell. He can't even pass as a human because of his eyes. He doesn't fit anywhere.

So he could never fit with Aziraphale.

He doesn't even see it as an option.

Not yet, anyway.

Aziraphale misunderstands this as Crowley being unable to take time and care and put work into things that truly matter. Aziraphale thinks that they can't be together because they are too different. No matter how much he loves Crowley, Crowley is, and will always be, just a few steps ahead of him. He will always be just out of reach.

This scene is Aziraphale's confession and subsequent realization that they can never work.

This scene is Crowley understanding Aziraphale's feelings and his inability to process his own.

This scene is devastating. Because it's another miscommunication. It's a clear example of how these two understand each other, and, even after 6000 years, don't understand each other.

#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens meta #this scene makes me fucking LOSE it #truly i could talk about it for HOURS

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Away P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Niece, Viserys Second daughter with Aemma) Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1735

Warning - Suicide Mentions

Part One

Using the secret tunnels to return Y/n to her chambers as if she never left, she tossed away the common clothes and put on her black silk nightie collapsing on her bed,

Daemon watched her change your clothes He could tell she was holding back tears. He felt bad for his sweetling. He knew she must be lonely at times, and he wasn't with her all the time. He decided not to leave just yet. Daemon approached and sat next to her on the bed. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he looked at her face. His face was soft and he looked genuinely concerned for her loneliness.

"you'll be leaving again soon, and I'll be alone again…"

Daemon saw her frown growing more upset and he decided to pull her closer to him. He held her for a moment, letting her get some comfort. His hand on her shoulder rubbed gently and he put his other hand on her back and held her close to him. "I know, I know. But I will always come back to you my sweetling. The first thing I do when I return to King's Landing, is rush straight to you. And the last thing I do before I leave is visit you again."

she nodded "But then you're gone. I see you off and then I'm alone, my sister doesn't visit, father never asks to see me, and I'm locked in here so much the handle has dust."

Daemon noticed how sad it was for her. ‘She had no one to really talk to or even just enjoy the time you spent with’ he thought. "Can you tell me something though, sweetling?"

"yes?"

"What do you always do when I'm gone? Are you always alone like this? No one to talk to?"

"always. I just read it. Sew. Sleep"

Daemon frowned as you said that. He felt guilty for being away so long. "You should have more people to spend your time with. What about the handmaidens? You don't get along with any of them?"

"they only come when I call for them, then they do what I ask and go. Most don't talk to me even when I try"

Daemon frowned as he heard her answer. He didn't even want to think about how lonely and depressing this experience was for her. "You haven't got a single friend, have you?"

"... No."

The news made him a bit disappointed. A lonely little princess with no friends and a sad life. Her only comfort in this world was her uncle. Daemon was feeling a little guilty for not being here and keeping a closer eye on her. "You can never truly be sad, though. Not when your dear old uncle is here for you. You can always tell me your problems and your sadness and I will be here to comfort you." He smiled at her softly but he could see she was still upset.

"but you're not here... You go off on an adventure to the Stepstones or off with the city watch or off at Dragonstone. I do love when you're here it's... The only time I ever smiled anymore"

That last sentence pained Daemon a lot more, hearing that the only times she smiled were the rare occasions he was around. He felt like he was abandoning a child for leaving her alone for so long. His expression showed his feelings for a split second before he hid it away and continued to comfort her. His voice was kind and compassionate. He spoke with a smile to conceal his guilt. "It's alright... I feel like the only time I feel happy is when I'm holding you. You are my source of happiness, my sweetling."

she nodded and she sat up a moment wiping her tears before she hugged him her arms around his shoulders, she sat in his lap, her head in his chest as she fought the urge to cry

Daemon put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He rubbed her hair and he looked down on her little face which was buried in his chest. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and his hands were rubbing her back. Daemon felt his happiness come back as he embraced you like this.

After a bit, Daemon decided to speak "You know, you are so much smaller than me when you sit in my lap, my sweeting," He said trying to comfort and distract her,

she nodded "When are you leaving?"

Daemon's face slightly fell at the mention of him leaving. But he decided to not let that stop him from comforting her. Even if he was going to leave soon he would make every second count. "Soon, my sweetling. I'm not sure, it will be soon but I will come back. I always do. Even though I know it might leave you feeling sad, I will always return. I promise."

"you'll be gone days? Months? Longer?"

Daemon seemed troubled as he thought about how long he would be leaving for. It was possible it would be longer than the usual. And after what she said, he felt bad about it now as he thought about how lonely she would feel when abandoned for a long amount of time. He didn't know what to say now, and he could see that his answer was also painful to her. "I don't know... Most likely a few days or weeks... Maybe longer than that but I promise you with all my heart that I will return."

she nodded "... I can't promise I'll be here"

Daemon felt a stab in his heart when she said that. He stopped rubbing her back and he stared down at her. He looked at her face as she was trying to hold back her tears and he felt bad that she felt this sad. "Sweetling, you can never do that! I can't lose you, I just can't. Are you telling me the truth? You really plan to leave?"

"... I have thought of it. More than once" she said,

Daemon was shaken to the core by her words. The pain of losing her suddenly hit him and he felt the urge to cry. He held her close to him and spoke softly but urgently. "Sweetling, listen. Please take my words to heart. Never think that again. I would be devastated to lose you. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. Whatever it takes to keep you alive and healthy. I don't want you to ever think of doing that again, okay?"

she nodded clearly still sad,

Daemon was still worried even with her nod. ‘I couldn't let her do this ever. She means too much to me’ the thought. Daemon held her close to him, he didn't care whether she was crying or not, he would keep her close to him to comfort her. "I hope I haven't disappointed you too much with how I have been acting," Daemon said softly, letting her cry against his chest. All his worries and fears were flooding his body and he couldn't hide them. He didn't want to lose her, and he felt like a failure right now.

she shook her head, "Often it feels you're all I have anymore..."

Daemon heard your answer and he was surprised to hear that to be honest. He smiled slightly and he squeezed her tighter as he held her against him. "Then it's my duty to protect you, my sweetling. I will do anything in this life to protect you. From now on I will come to see you as often as I can. Will that make you happier?"

she nodded,

Daemon smiled softly but still looked concerned He still could feel the sadness in her but he decided to try and comfort her by holding her against him and playing with her hair. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt his happiness coming back. He didn't want this moment to end. "Will you promise me something?"

"yes, Daemon?"

"Will you promise me that every time I leave, whenever you have thoughts like those, you will tell me as soon as I return? I need to know if you ever intend to do that again, sweetling. Or If you really do feel alone while I am away."

"I Will I promise"

"Thank you, my sweetling. That is very important to me. And from now on I will try my best to come see you as often as I can. I promise you that. Just please, let me know how you feel and I will always be trying to make you as happy as I can while I am away, and if you really do start to think like that send a raven and I will rush back on craxaes just to see you. okay?"

she nodded and laid herself down on her pillow,

Daemon kept his hand gripped with her and he continued to smile at her he helped to tuck her into her bed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. He could feel the sadness that still lingered in her and he didn't want to go just yet. She was still in need of comfort and love. So he continued to sit there with her and play with her hair.

"May I ask you one more question, my sweetling?"

she nodded

"Are you happy right now, my sweetling?”

"very happy and very content but also sad because I know it will end eventually"

Daemon sighed a little bit when she told him how she felt, it was true and her feelings were valid."I will always come back. No matter what happens, I will come back. I promise you, I will never leave you and I will never be gone for more time than I have to,"

she nodded and slowly closed her eyes, after a while she began to drift off to sleep her grip on him became loose, he smiled and watched her sleep for a while But for some reason he felt a strong urge to stay now. He wanted to stay with her, no matter how long he would be away from her he wanted to spend these last few hours with her, "Daemon?" she spoke up,

"Yes, my sweetling? What is it?"

for a moment she doesn't speak she just looks at him taking in every element of him as if she's trying to ensure her memory of him before she rests a soft hand on his cheek stroking his face before she finally connects her lips with his…

#hotd daemon #daemon x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #daemontargaeryen #house targaryen #daemontargaryen #houseofthedragon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon daemon #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd

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demodraws0606 · 8 days

Text

An character analysis POV as to how Hu could be the culprit (and a little bit of Nico stuff as well)

tw/ mentions of suicide

So I've seen certain Eden!Culprit truthers just not really believing that Hu could be the culprit because of her behavior during the class trial. However her committing murder against Arei and Ace makes a lot more sense than Eden does by a longshot (especially with Eden having no accomplices atp).

But I also understand why people are confused by Hu's behavior if she could possibly be the culprit. There's a lot of things that don't seem to make sense on the surface that I also accepted however digging further, you can find a version of Hu that honestly fits really well as the culprit of this chapter.

I will also throw in analysis of Nico's behavior because a lot of their behavior during this class trial is strange if Hu really is the culprit but again I think I can explain why this happened.

I also want to preface this by saying that I do think Hu is going to be a heavily flawed character but I don't think she's malicious in any way shape or form. If I find any Hu hate after she's revealed to be the culprit, I will actually fight your ass and that's a promise.

Her outburst against David :

I honestly was also in the camp of not really understanding Hu being the culprit, doesn't this go against her outburst against David ?

Well, here's the thing, I think her outburst was 100 pourcent genuine, I just think Hu is both being a hypocrite in a way but mostly she's hiding her true feelings behind her wording.

Let's take what she says in her outburst :

There's a funny thing about her wording, especially at the beginning :

"You have no right to decide wether I, whether any of us..."

I think what Hu is trying to say is being hidden by her saying "we" and "us". In my opinion, she's probably mad at David for wanting to toy with her life, not even to escape himself but simply to commit mass suicide. Which we know Hu has a very complicated history with suicide due to her secret.

I do think her anger is both a mix of projecting onto David her present (and past self) and also her genuine desire to want to continue living.

She would be mad, she's trying so hard to live and here is David who both planned to let her die not even to survive himself but simply because he gave up. Interesting to note how she interprets David's desire to stop the killing game as "Because this killing game requires us to live, you think you should just reject that notion and kill us all". She doesn't mention him wanting to end the killing game, she mentions David rejecting the notion of living itself.

If Hu was a past suicidal person who now has committed herself to continue living, of course she would be insulted by David's action, it spits in her face and reminds her of a past self that simply rejected the idea of living.

A desire to live that's shown through this outburst and also in her secret quote.

Again switching the pronouns Hu is using here with "I" really gives a new perspective that I think makes a lot of sense with her being the culprit.

"It is not and never will be your desicion as to what happens with MY life"

Because Hu wants to live now, she's no longer her past self, she won't try and throw her life away anymore.

The murder of Arei and attempted murder of Ace :

I want to discuss both the victims and method of murder here because I think it works very well with Hu. It's not really a character analysis thing as much but I didn't want to make a seperate post for it.

Hu clearly does/did not have high opinions of either Ace or Arei, like at all. They were both people that Hu reprimended heavily.

Especially with the secret motive happening, it's very possible that Hu's possible choice of culprit was done with the notion of "who deserves to be killed". Her first pick being Ace makes a lot of sense

I'm making her sound villainous when I say this but I do think it was her mindset at the time, Ace's horrible behavior towards Nico possibly being what led to her to feel allowed to take his life. However when Ace survived, she decided she was simply to deep into it and decided to go with the second best choice in her mind, Arei.

I want to also point out the method of murder...hanging

Clearly the culprit had a lot of knowledge about hanging, with it being their main method of murder. Which would make sense with Hu's past, using her past attempts as knowledge for her to take someone else's life which I find very ironic and in a way morbidly narratively compelling.

What was the motive ? :

I think Hu simply just wanted to live, it had nothing to do with the motives (and I honestly think the motives will actually not ever be involved in the murders bc it seems like they're setting it up to be a recurring trend).

I think Hu was thinking about murdering to get out ever since she was put in this killing game. However the only reason why she has never done so is because she was way too attached to her classmates.

From her secret quote, to her outburst against David, to her secret motive. All of it hints at this strong desire to want to live.

However she couldn't bear to kill anyone in this cast until chapter 2 happened.

Ace and Arei both are probably the least likable characters in chapter 2's daily life, I don't mean that in the fandom sense but I mean that in the eyes of the cast itself. Especially Ace who truly ends up falling to horrible harmful patterns out of self preservation.

We know how toxic the cast became in chapter 2 and I think that's what led to Hu feeling more comfortable killing someone. She no longer felt as guilty when she saw Ace (and Arei but mostly Ace) acting this way. This allowed her to commit murder. When it failed, she simply ended up chosing the second person on her list that she saw as nothing more than a horrible bully.

After all who would miss Ace and Arei, they're both horrible horrible people right ? Who would cry for someone who isn't a good person.

It was a murder both driven by Hu's strong desire of survival and also her view of her fellow classmates.

Nico's behavior :

Before I get more into Hu's mindset, I want to take a little detour to why is Nico being so difficult ?

I know I've made theories about Nico being an accomplice, but looking back I don't think they actually knew Hu did it. Even if they're not telling the truth about Ace's attempted murder and Hu's false allibi.

But then why ? Why would Nico ever do this, don't they know they're potentially putting everyone's lives at risk

Well it wouldn't be the first time a character in DRDT's cast is difficult to the point of risking people's lives (i'm fucking look at you WHIT.). However I think there are both actually decent reasons as to why Nico wouldn't tell the truth alongside his issues with being non-confrontational.

First, I don't think Nico ever expected the murder of Ace to be important to the case. I think they lied because everyone else made it extremely obvious what their thoughts truly were and Nico probably thought that trying to argue against them simply would just make them look more guilty or not do anything at all.

Again I would like to pull Nico's secret quote for evidence here. Because again I think it just fits with everything here.

For the alibi thing, I think Nico genuinely didn't contest it because they probably believe Hu only did that to protect them from getting blamed. Again anything that would make Nico not get yelled at or suspected probably is something they would hold onto. They still have no reason to think Hu really did it, so again with their issues with being non-confrontational I think it would make sense for them not to contest it.

I think Nico's arc is heavily tied with Hu, and vice verca. There's an empahsis on how Nico is struggling to make their true feelings truly known because everyone talks about them and the one person who thinks they are there to protect them actually are just as bad if not worse in ignoring them.

Nico wasn't ready to come out, they were instantly labelled an attempted murderer and the one person who is here to defend them is someone who constantly interrupts them. The entirety of chapter 2 has just been them being objectified and not really giving them a voice.

Which I think comes back to a part of Hu that I think is related to the murder.

Hu's relationship with Nico and Eden :

Isn't that interesting how Hu has established relationships with both Nico and Eden, meanwhile Ace and Arei both have bullied Eden/Nico.

I don't think this is a coincidence and I think it matches Hu's misguided attempts at protecting people.

Hu wants to be useful, she desperately wants to be the strong protector of the group. However there are very clear signs here intentions aren't very glamorous.

In a fucked up way, it's very possible that she sees the murder of Ace and Arei as her helping Eden and Nico. Two people she clearly wants to protect (at least for Nico it's obvious).

However Hu's actions clearly did not help them, in fact, what she did ended up backfiring on the both of them.

Nico ends up being framed as a murderer

Eden lost a potential friend

Not only that but she had to have manipulated both Nico and Eden, to accomplish her murder. It's a flimsey self excuse for Hu to keep up her belief that she's a protector.

Obviously I don't think this was her main motivation, I've talked about it before but it's yet again something that would make it more easy for Hu to swallow the idea of being a murderer.

Is Hu evil ? :

No ! What the fuck did you think this post was for !

See I don't think Hu being the culprit suddenly makes her this horrible manipulative person. Despite the dread I feel with the likelyhood of Hu getting dragged to the ground if she's the culprit, I don't think she's remotely close to characters like...Celeste for exemple.

She's a person who was desperate to live who let herself murder by making up excuses, that she was doing this for the greater good somehow that it wasn't just a selfish desire of survival.

It makes sense for a chapter all about morality right ? Justifying a horrible action by justifying that well...these people she murdered weren't really good people were they ? Plus she ended up killing Eden and Nico's bullies right ? And I mean the killing game will only really end when two people are still alive right ? So maybe she's not a bad person. Maybe she deserves to live.

But people don't to be deserve murdered (99 pourcent of the time, i'm talking about DRDT's moral here) , not even horrible people. You don't know these people, if they could change, and you don't know what consequences you bring upon others by enacting justice like this.

And in a chapter about morality wouldn't it be interesting to tackle the morality of someone who would want to live no matter what. Is it fair to call Hu a bad person because she simply didn't want to die ? Somehow her attempts at killing herself in the past is wrong but letting herself be killed in a place like this is the moral thing to do ?

Is the fact that she killed people who she perceived as bad make this whole thing better. Did these people's lives matter less than her, someone who has been trying to actually be nice to others and help them ?

Or is her attempt of being a good respectable motherly figure only just a facade to feed her ego, a person who once didn't think they deserved now hanging to every possible reason to continue fighting to stay alive ? No matter what, no matter what happens, she needs to continue living.

"A pig never hopes to grow up into a human, because it knows that a metamorphisis like that is impossible"

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #hu jing #hu drdt #nico hakobyan #nico drdt #eden tobisa #eden drdt #i want no one dissing my girl if she's revealed as the culprit #like ngl i love her being the culprit because it just makes her so interesting and morally gray #i love complicated morally gray women you go girl #it's so funny that me making this post has made Hu rise up in my list of favs considerably #this has made me look at her character in a new interesting light

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anundyingfidelity · 9 months

Text

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

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