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gladiatorcunt · 1 year ago

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MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them.

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more.

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head.

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream.

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out.

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time.

SHIT!

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often.

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own.

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have.

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother.

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath.

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure.

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better.

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age.

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders.

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him.

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him.

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future.

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes.

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you.

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation.

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat.

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them.

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions.

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face.

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly.

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…”

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister."

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs.

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize.

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera.

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards.

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors.

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse.

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s.

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach.

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight.

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders.

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now.

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in.

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down.

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out.

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body.

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south.

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher.

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air.

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations.

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs.

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind.

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart.

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger.

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh.

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length.

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue.

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow.

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table.

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father.

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms.

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up.

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks.

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you.

Friday morning was ushered in by two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping.

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

"It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face.

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on.

Fuck, not again.

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started.

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes.

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it.

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them.

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them.

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already.

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry.

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there.

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this.

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons.

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children.

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit.

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait.

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back.

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

Some say that means it’s love.

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies.

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else.

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.” He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day.

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.”

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”?

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you.

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner.

“I actually got you something myself, but uh, if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.”

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed.

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone.

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant.

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.)

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty.

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate.

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you.

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest.

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased.

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply.

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?”

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.”

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.)

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act.

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw.

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

“Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot.

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses.

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island.

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway.

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies.

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms.

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that.

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much.

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more.

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

#dividers by cafekitsune and roseschoices #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin smut #star wars x reader #mdni #tw dark content #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #⚰️.deaddove

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amazinglyegg · 11 months ago

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Due to not being able to find a decent reference for Danse's room, I used this video to sketch out a floor plan!!

Along with references for what all the furniture looks like:

Details and rambling below the cut!

General notes:

The only time we see his room is after Blind Betrayal. I wonder if he brought anything from his room with him, despite leaving the duffle bag near the door?

He has a ton of storage space. Like, a lot. He doesn't even have a footlocker at the end of his bed it's just an entire metal box.

Despite that, he has nowhere to sit. Not even his desk has a chair.

Also he has a rug between his bed and his big drawer! Cute!

Pet food bowl near his door with fresh bloatfly meat in it. Not only does he manually open the door for Emmett to enter and leave (no cat door), but Emmett visits often enough that he goes out of his way to give him a bowl of fresh food! Does Quinlan even feed him!?

Has a lot of random cardboard boxes filled with papers and stuff on his floor. Given that the filing cabinet is for files, I wonder if these are books or journals?

Has a plain old bed with no pillows or blankets. Like most beds, this is probably done for game reasons (like animations or clipping) instead of canon reasons. At least I HOPE he sleeps with a blanket!!

On top of his safe is three dog food cans, maybe supposed to represent cat food. Also has a can of cram on his big drawer. I wonder if he stores more food in there!

The flag is actually a smaller one, but I couldn't find the exact model on the wiki. I find it interesting that he has a pole flag instead of a regular wall one. It just looks so sad :(

Has a lot of small blue and wood boxes around his room that I didn't include in the floor plan, they're empty I'm pretty sure

I didn't realize people outside of middle school used lockers, especially SIX of them. What do you even store in lockers?? Can't be clothes since they have multiple segments, hung clothes wouldn't fit and folded clothes would probably fall out.

No real personal stuff like holotapes or journal entries. I would have expected something unique! He also has no decorations other than that one sad droopy flag, but I guess it'd be hard to hang up paintings when the walls are made of metal. Can't just hammer a nail into that!

As a note, I think items within storage containers are randomized, so I didn't bother looking at them while making this.

Desk and filing cabinet:

Whisky and vodka bottles, no shot glass in sight. He is chugging those straight from the bottle. Not as many bottles as Maxson, at least!

Also an entire carton of cigarettes and an ashtray. He canonically smokes and doesn't even bother going outside to do it, his room must reek of cigarettes.

A food tray and mug, which is... interesting? Does he often eat alone in his room?

Filing cabinet for files, probably does paperwork at this desk as well.

Drawers:

Has like, three wrenches, as well as a tool box. This must be his workshop!

A lunch pail and a nuka cola. This table is right next to his desk so it makes sense he has food and drinks here. Surprised there's no water!

Speaking of the table... it's an institute table. Probably just done for aesthetic purposes, but I found that interesting

Let me know if you have any opinions, headcanons, or things I missed!

#glad to know danse canonically stands in his room (no chairs) eating his dinner with Emmett instead of at the mess halls #and he has many cardboard boxes of random papers he refuses to throw away #my man becomes more autism coded by the day #fallout 4 #paladin danse #brotherhood of steel #fallout lore #idk can i tag this as my art???#my art

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girlkisser13 · 11 months ago

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hephaestus cabin headcanons

children of hephaestus

• OIL, SOOT, and GREASE STAINS EVERYWHERE.

• the have the most intense games of hide-and-seek in bunker 9.

• a lot of them lose limbs, become disabled in some way, or are born that way, and they often use it as a reason to build themselves cool robot prostheses and other tools to help them get around.

• along with the athena cabin, they come up with weapons and armory specifically for disabled demigods.

• they build advanced prosthetics for campers who have lost limbs in battle.

• they’re warmer than most demigods, even if they don’t have fire powers.

• they always know when someone is in need of a weapon and they just create it without thinking about it. like they just know when someone needs a weapon before they ask for it.

• they're the only ones who can pick out stuff from hephaestus's junkyard without getting hurt.

• everything, the cabin, the forge, the bunker, is 100% handicap accessible.

• they worked with the athena and hecate cabins to upgrade bunker 9 to allow better lighting, safer rooms, new areas to test weapons, etc. they wanted it to feel like an underground space station.

• they name each of their tools and inventions.

• on birthdays, they give each other personalized gadgets that solve everyday problems, like a self-tying shoelace or a self-stirring spoon.

• they design and wear fireproof clothing.

• they actually have numerous secret hideouts and mini-workshops hidden around camp half-blood (bunker 9 is the only one we know about).

• they keep detailed journals filled with sketches, ideas, and notes about their inventions, passing them down through generations of hephaestus kids.

• they build small, mechanical pets or companions that help them with tasks around the forge, each one with a unique personality programmed in.

• they all have a set of personalized tools that they've crafted themselves, often with special engravings or modifications to suit their style.

• they have made so many modifications to their cabin over the years that none of the original material is still there, and there’s a constant debate at camp as to weather it’s still the same cabin.

cabin exterior

• the cabin has an industrial look, with a mix of metals like iron, copper, and steel. rivets, bolts, and exposed beams are prominent features.

• life-sized metal automatons, resembling ancient greek warriors and mythical creatures, stand guard at the entrance.

• they have created intricate metal sculptures that decorate the cabin’s exterior. these range from small, detailed pieces to larger, more abstract art.

• the entrance has large, reinforced double doors, that are automated.

• these doors swing open smoothly despite their weight.

• they have a pulley system for lifting heavy materials, a retractable awning for shade, and a mechanical clock tower that chimes periodically.

cabin interior

• the floor is covered in spare parts and tools that never get picked up (unless somebody wants to use them for something).

• they have underground bunkers for bedrooms.

• the walls are adorned with gears, cogs, and blueprints of various inventions. some of the gears are part of intricate mechanisms that move or serve as storage spaces.

• their cabin has several fire extinguishers and a state-of-the-art ventilation system to manage the smoke and fumes from the forges.

• emergency buttons are strategically placed around the cabin to shut down all machinery in case of accidents.

cabin traditions

• every month they hold a competition to see who can make a device that fits a certain theme.

• they’re judged by a panel of five consisting of the head counselors of hephaestus, athena, hecate, and a volunteer counselor, as well as chiron.

• each judge judges something different on a scale of 1-5: safety and usefulness, ease of use and functionality, utilization of magic, presentation/looks, and on-theme-ness. chiron calculates and delivers the final score, which is the total points given by the counselors.

• the winner receives a medal and bragging rights (until the next competition), as well as first pick when it comes to tools each morning.

• anyone in camp is allowed to participate (though it’s mostly just the hephaestus and athena kids) and contestants have a week to create their contraptions, during which they have access to all the tools and spare materials in the hephaestus workshop (and later bunker 9) that nobody has yet claimed (whether for the competition or not).

• the event is taken very seriously by everyone involved, and even athena and hephaestus have been known to show up from time to time to watch from the shadows, but they always watch from olympus.

divider by @anitalenia

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo fandom #pjo series #hoo series #pjo tv show #pjo disney+#pjo cabins #hephaestus #vulcan #hephaestus cabin #cabin nine #cabin 9 #children of hephaestus

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applebutter-and-cinnamon · 1 year ago

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Breath of Life

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: Drowning, Choking on Water, Passing out, Being unable to swim

Disclaimer: I've never actually drowned before, so if I've gotten some things wrong I apologize.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

This is not meant to be a reflection of the real person that was portrayed in the Boys in the Boat. It is a work of fiction.

Joe's lungs were burning when Bobby finally yelled at them to ease up. Coach Ulbrickson signaled at them to head back to the docks when they were ready before speeding off in his boat ahead of them.

It was an unusually sunny day in Seattle. The water was calm and they had glided through the water easily all throughout practice. He was winded and tired, but in a remarkably good mood. The boys ahead and behind him were tilting their heads back toward the sun and running their fingers through the crisp water outside their boat.

Bobby let them all rest a moment before signaling with a shout to begin rowing back to the shell house. They rowed as if each passing second was a luxury. He and the rest of his shells crew were a well-oiled unit when they were all focused on keeping their heads in the boat and nowhere but in the boat.

They pulled up to the docks, pulled themselves out of the shell, and carried it out of the water into the shell house. Bobby, who was too short to be much of a help in carrying it, walked in front of them. He cleared the way and opened doors, making it easier for them to store it quickly.

Joe only felt the day catch up to him when they hit the showers and he felt the long, continuous stream of water falling softly against the skin of his back. He was hoping to see Sadie later in the day, she liked to study under a giant oak tree after her last lecture of the day and if he caught her in a good mood, he thought he might be able to convince her to study later and spend some time with him instead.

He wasn't the only guy in the boat with a girl he was eager to get to after practice. Roger had a date lined up with his Annie and Shorty had said something earlier about meeting up with a new girl that he'd met the previous night. Joe had never seen Don with a girl, but he was pretty sure that his stroke had plans to study with Bobby.

Joe toweled off and dressed himself quickly, his mind navigating the quickest path towards the oak tree that Sadie loved. He'd finished tying his shoes when the first desperate screams of a young woman echoed through the boathouse.

There was a brief moment, when the guys shared shocked looks with one another before they all burst into motion. Leaving through the locker room door and out into the main storage room of the shell house. Moving quickly, he was able to see the coaches also peaking their heads out of their office in alarm. Mr. Pocock appeared too, out of the workshop on the second story and holding a tool in his right hand.

To Joe's surprise he recognized the girl who was panicking desperately in the face of one of the freshman boys. It was Lily, one of Sadie's friends, who was pulling harshly at the boys arm trying to get him to follow her.

"Lily?" She turned toward him the second he called out her name in confusion. Her eyes were filled with tears that were pouring down her cheeks as she hurried over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling her with him. She was breathing so hard that it was hard to understand what she was saying outside of an obvious call for help. "What's wrong? What is it?"

He didn't like the look she was giving him. It was so full of not just fear, but blood curdling panic. It wasn't for her though, it seemed to be for someone else and at the way she was gripping his arm, turning it white with her strength, Joe had a stomach dropping feeling at who it might be for.

"It's Sadie, someone pushed her in the water."

~~~

Sadie tilted her head back, basking in the beautiful Seattle sunshine. It had been days, upon days of endless rainfall and when the clouds had parted to reveal the sun's golden rays shining through the windows in her lecture hall, she couldn't help but smile. Thankfully, her professor had also seen the rare sunshine and had released them early for the day, rushing his way out ahead of everyone else.

Following the rest of her classmates out into the warm air, Sadie saw the oak tree that normally pulled her to rest beneath it's offer of shade. Whether to study or to stare at a cloudy sky, she normally would take it up on it's offer of respite.

Sadie glanced down at the watch on her wrist, she'd gotten out of her lecture early enough that if she hurried, she might be able to catch Joe after practice. She missed him. He had been extremely busy between rowing, saving money up for his tuition, and his homework that it had been hard for them to find the time to spend together. She was determined to find the time to spend with him today.

She redirected her course and set out for the University of Washington's shell house. It was a little bit far from where her lecture was, but it was so nice out that Sadie found herself enjoying the walk. The breeze messed her hair but it also carried the scent of fresh water and sweet grass. She had to meander around groups of other students but it was so nice to see everyone smiling instead of rushing from building to building.

The ground grew steeper, sloping down towards the water's edge as she drew closer. From a distance, she could make out a group of tall, young men carrying their boats inside. She couldn't see Joe's crew but there wasn't anyone else out on the water either so she assumed that he was inside showering and resigned herself to waiting.

She had begun to look for a large tree to occupy her time under when she spotted a flickering hand in the air, waving back and forth to get her attention. Following the hand down, she was met with the dazzling white smile of Lily. She was smiling so hard that Sadie wondered if her cheeks were hurting, nevertheless, Sadie couldn't help but smile back at her, waving as she did.

"Come over here," Lily yelled, waving her over to where she rested on one of the floating docks. Sadie hesitated.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Many of the other students liked to lay on the docks during nice weather to watch the rowing teams compete at the end of practice, but Sadie, who had never learned to swim had always found herself a bit uneasy on the docks. They had no railing and the water stretched endlessly down below them.

When Joe had taken her out to row she'd been nervous enough to distract herself from the uneasiness of being out on the open water. Plus, Joe had kept a steady hand on the small of her back, keeping her upright whenever she stumbled. Where Lily was on the docks, she'd have to navigate down a good portion of floating wood around some of the other students who were standing to leave now that practice was over and heading in the other direction.

Sadie glanced at the shell house, thinking over her own fears and looked back to where Lily was smiling brightly. It couldn't hurt, she guessed, and she wouldn't have to stay long. Once Joe came out she could quickly head back to the safety that was dry ground and spend the rest of her evening with her beau.

"Sadie!" Lily called again, laughing slightly in bewilderment at the stalled movement of her friend.

She forced a bright smile and placed a hesitant foot on the first slat of wood, "I'm coming!"

She kept one arm around her school books keeping them close to her chest as more of a comforting pressure than to keep them from falling in the water and she used her other arm, low as it was by her side, for stability. Sadie moved slowly, as courageous as she was trying to be, she could feel how hard her heart pounded and was perfectly fine with taking her time.

Moving quickly in the other direction, the last group of students on the docks walked by her and jostled the wood slightly as they did. She inhaled sharply at the movement then smiling politely as they tossed her concerned glances at the noise. She waited a moment for the dock to steady then continued on at her leisurely pace.

Sadie glanced up to measure the amount of distance remaining between herself and Lily. It wasn't too much further and then she could lower herself on the blue cotton blanket that Lily had spread out carefully to sit on. She'd already quirked a brow to begin saying something to Lily when the thud of rapid footsteps came up behind her. Sadie didn't have time to look to see who it was before they slammed into her shoulders and knocked her unsteady.

Her books slipped from their careful placement against her chest as her feet slid out from beneath her. She only had enough time to draw in a quick breath before she felt the water close around her head.

It was shockingly cold, she thought to herself. Distantly, she could make out the panicked voice of Lily calling out something above the water. Sadie knew enough about swimming to know that she needed to use her legs to propel herself up the surface of the water. Struggling, she kicked her legs, feeling her shoes slide off of her feet as she did. The water swished around her, moving her up before something tightened at her ankle pulling her back slightly, just as her outstretched finger broke the surface of the water.

She looked down to see a tangled strip of net caught around her ankle. Curling down, she did her best to loosen the net to free her foot from it's confines. Her lungs were burning with the desire to inhale and somewhere in the back of her mind, behind the panic that was building inside of her, she scolded herself for every other time in her life that she'd taken for granted the ability to breathe easily.

The water embraced her, keeping her in it's icy hold and caressing her hair as it floated all about her. It was beautiful, the way the sunlight trickled down through the surface of the water in golden rays. The sun was getting dimmer by the second and she wondered if she were sinking further down.

She couldn't hear Lily's voice anymore and but she hadn't caught the moment it had stopped. What she could hear was the hard pounding of her heart in her head, pounding just as hard as it had the first time she saw Joe smile.

In the next instant the water around her shook, moving her about in the water and bubbles danced along her skin. Rough, warm hands grabbed under her arms in an attempt to pull her up, halting only as the net pulled her back down. Sadie guessed it pulled her farther down this time as the sun's rays continued to disappear from her view.

The same rough hands grabbed her cheeks, shaking her gently and she forced her eyes open. The sun, she thought confused, was starting to look an awful lot like Joe. A very concerned and panicked Joe.

The urge to inhale was too strong for her to resist and her muscle began to work despite her telling it not too, forcing her to inhale a large lungful of icy water. Her body convulsed; hard.

The water shook again, moving further below her and she felt a vibrating sensation from the net around her ankle. She didn't have the energy to look down anymore though, instead, Sadie let her eyes fall closed.

The vibrating stopped after what could've been a moment and she felt herself being pulled through the water again. Rough hands were holding her close to a warm body and she let herself rest there as the world faded into nothing.

Distantly, in the part of her brain that was still working, Sadie was aware of many sets of hands pulling her out of the water and away from the warm chest she'd been resting on. In that same part of her brain, she could hear the panicked voices of Joe's crew as they scrambled around her.

It only took a moment for the familiar rough hands to come back to her, holding her cheeks tenderly for only a moment before she felt firm pressure on her chest. Those hands worked repeatedly against her chest for a moment before they parted her lips. Joe's lips slotted against hers, blowing warm breath into her mouth.

The hands stopped for a moment before picking back up, quicker and with more determination. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath.

After a moment, her brain latched onto the repeated sound of Joe's voice in her ear.

"C'mon baby," he was saying, voice huffing as he worked. Joe's lips pressed against hers and as he breathed into her, she felt something begin to work its way up her lungs.

"Come back to me, Sweetheart," Joe sounded desperate, bordering on hysterical as he called out to her. His lips pressed against her's again, pushing the air into her lungs and this time Sadie forced her eyes open.

Joe knelt above her, blonde hair and a very pale face dripping with water. His eyes trained onto her every movement, while his face was twisted into a pained expression. His endlessly blue eyes were full of tears that he refused to let fall down his face as he concentrated on Sadie.

She gazed at him, unblinking. To her, he looked like the Greek gods of old with his wet, tan skin and shining gold hair. It could very well have been Poseidon or Apollo who had decided to bless her with their presence. Sadie couldn't understand though, why someone so beautiful would be crying and internally cursed whatever situation had put him through such anguish, to hell.

Sadie thought all of this in the split second between when she opened her eyes and when the water surged forward from her lungs back out through her mouth. It spilled over her lips and she felt herself being twisted onto her side as she coughed it out. A large hand rubbing her back as she did. She braced her weight on a shaking elbow so she could cough without hitting her head against the wood.

"There you go, Sadie," Joe encouraged, voice still strained. "Get it all out."

Every breath of air into her lungs caused more water to gush out, burning it's way out of her body. Sadie groaned, she had no idea that water could burn, had thought up until this moment in her life, that it was supposed to be fire's job to burn.

Around her, she could hear the sound of relieved murmuring voices that she had begun to recognize as Joe's crew. After a few agonizing breaths she forced herself to sit up, ignoring the voices telling her to lay down and slumped against Joe, who immediately wrapped her in his arms, supporting all of her weight.

She tucked her head into the darkness between his neck and his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and listening to his breathing. Sadie forced the oxygen in her own lungs to mimic his rhythm and after a few breaths, Joe caught on to what she was doing.

He began exaggerating his breathing, forcing slow and steady breaths that she could replicate on her own. When she felt like she could breath at a normal rate without focusing all of her brain power to it, she pulled back to look around.

It couldn't have been too much longer since she went under. Lily's blanket was underneath her, the sun was still shining brightly, and the breeze was rustling the leaves of the trees around her. Don Hume was dripping wet, standing closest to them while six other crew members from Joe's boat stood closely behind him. Chuck Day with his arm around a crying Lily.

Joe gripped her cheek with one of his hands, drawing her attention back to him, "I'm going to carry you to the shell house, alright?" His voice trembled slightly but after she nodded her consent, he picked her up and held her securely against his chest. She rested her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes and let his steady rhythm of footfalls lull her away.

~~~

When Sadie gained consciousness, she was still in Joe's arms but they were not outside and they were not in the main room of the shell house. She was laying down on a small, twin mattress with her head resting on Joe's chest. His arms were holding her securely to him. He clung to her like she might slip away at any moment.

She recognized this room from when she'd been in it in passing. It was Joe's room, the one that he shared with Roger Davis, though Roger wasn't in it at present. Light shone through the closed blinds, but it was a soft pink of morning instead of the golden yellow of the afternoon.

As she looked around, she felt Joe stir against her. His eyes fluttered open, took in the fact that she was awake and that she was watching him. He seemed more relaxed now, though she made a mental note of the fact that he seemed unable to stop himself from touching her in some way.

"Hey there," his voice rumbled from deep in his chest, still rough with sleep. His eyes were soft and his thumb was rubbing small circles in the small of her back.

Sadie offered him a weak smile, "Hey."

His forehead was wrinkled with worry. "You gave me quite a scare," he confessed to her.

Sadie nodded, dropping her gaze from his. She brought her hand that was between them up to the center of his chest, drawing small shapes as she composed her thoughts.

Joe was quiet, content to lay with Sadie in his arms. She cleared her throat, "What happened?"

At her question, Joe began to sit up slightly and cradled her face in his hands as he studied her eyes and face. "You don't remember falling in the lake yesterday?"

Sadie reached up to hold one of his wrists in her hand, "I remember that part. I don't remember much else after slipping into the water."

"Lily came into the shell house, completely panicking," Joe started. "She said that you'd slipped into the water and hadn't come back out."

Joe stared at the wall as he recalled it to her. His eyes full of anguish and his grip on her tightened with the need to convince himself that she was beside him.

"We followed her out to where you'd fallen in and I jumped in to grab you out but you were stuck on something. Thankfully, Don noticed and jumped in after me. He had a pocket knife that he used to cut you free."

Sadie nodded, it all checked out to her. She could remember the vibrating sensation dancing up her foot while she was in the water.

"You couldn't have been in there for very long, but by the time we pulled you out, your lips were blue. You weren't breathing," Joe paused, breathing deeply. His eyes fell shut and he leaned his forehead against hers.

They rested like that for a short time while Joe tried to calm himself down, clutching to her like she was a lifeline. After a bit, Sadie pulled back and Joe opened his eyes to look at her. They were both sitting upright now but she rose up on her knees, hearing the mattress groan as she did.

She grabbed onto Joe's shoulders to steady herself and swung one of her legs across Joe's hips so that she was straddling him. His hands came up to rest on her hips, stabilizing her as she sat down on his thighs.

Sadie slid her hands from his shoulders and into his hair, caressing his blonde curls and massaging his scalp until his shoulders released the tension he was holding there.

Joe cleared his throat and looked at her, "You weren't breathing so we did CPR until you were. I carried you back to the shell house, Bobby had run to grab a Doctor while I went in after you so they checked you out."

"What did they say?" She asked, moving her thumbs up to smooth his temples. Joe leaning into her touch as she did.

"You were awake for that part," he hummed, "But, you feel back asleep pretty quickly after. Doc said you were fine and that you'd need to take it easy for the next couple of days. You were pretty out of it though, so I took you in here and we both fell asleep."

She shivered and Joe brought the quilt that was covering them both to wrap more tightly around her shoulders, while pulling her closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Please, don't ever do that again. I don't think I can handle it."

She laughed blankly, "I wasn't really trying to do it the first time either."

Joe nodded, "I know." He cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a slow, warm kiss that had her melting into his touch. It was a kiss that told her just how worried he had been and how glad he was to have her near him now.

Sadie responded in kind, gliding her hands across his skin and pouring all of her love for him into their kiss. Joe's hands flexed against her hips and turning his head, he deepened their kiss. His tongue parted her lips and he kissed her until all Sadie could taste, feel and hear was Joe Rantz.

A/N: Y'all I fell in love with this idea and was having such a fun time writing it up until the end. It sort of died there lol. Thanks for sticking it out til then and I'll do my best to keep writing for the boys.

#joe rantz #joe rantz x reader #the boys in the boat #callum turner #callum turner x reader

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eddieisashifter · 2 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐆? — MY SIX OF CROWS REALITY

after making one of these for my marauders reality (see here!) I've been inspired to make another! this one is a bit different though, because it's more of a utility belt than a bag. but, hey, it's got bags on it so that counts, right? as before, inspired by this post by @chaaistained and this one by @hrrtshape and, most recently, this one by @macknshift!! (y'all's stuff is always beautiful by the way mwah mwah)

this belt bag is a frankenstein creation of a couple things. It originally started as just the big pouch, but then I realized I needed more storage and added a second pouch. then I kept accidently breaking the glass vials I was having wylan make for me and it got everything soaked in poison, which isn't ideal. so I made the little holster for them!

first pocket—left side is the outer pocket and right is the main pocket

OUTER POCKET

𓅂 various makeup products stolen from various sources. two lip balms one from kerch and the other from shu han. both expensive. mascara I stole from poppy that I use occasionally, also doubles as eyeliner. also nina's lipstick that I hold onto for her because she asked me to.

𓅂 a flip out mirror that once was my mothers. one of the few trinkets I have left from my time in ravka

𓅂 a cigarette case that was once kaz's. he said he didn't want it anymore, I think he just wanted me to have something of his to hold onto.

𓅂 gears from wylan's workshop that I kept "accidently" pocketing. they were shiny.

MAIN POCKET

𓅂 my sketchbook. my pride and joy. my precious. it has a place for not only paper, but also slots for all my main pens and pencils all in one place.

𓅂 my other pride and joy. I love this things to death. I first took them to try and I have never regreted it. makes the most beautiful landscape paintings of the view of ketterdam outside kaz's office's window

𓅂 various notes and cards including—a card from a winning hand against jesper, a piece of poetry torn from my sketchbook and slightly crumpled (far too sappy to be consumed without cringing), a postcard from ravka. it might be from my family, I didn't care to check, but didn't have the heart to throw it away. a strength tarot card from nina's deck that she gave me after a reading and a death card from mine that I took out—I'm done with change in my future.

second pocket & weapons

SECOND POCKET

𓅂 a pouch full of kruge coin. there's probably also some bills shoved in there, but the coin just makes a lovely sound.

𓅂 a flask full of the whiskey from kaz's office. no other tastes the same as his.

𓅂 various stolen keys. not sure where they all unlock, but they are very pretty. once again, they were shiny, leave me alone.

𓅂 an ace lighter that someone left at the crow club. too bad, so sad, it's mine now.

𓅂 old dice that are so worn down that you can't make out the numbers very well. I keep them around for the noises.(this is a pattern of mine)

𓅂 my lucky deck of cards, blessed by kaz's sneaky ass magician hands by making my ace of spades disappear. I still havent gotten it back. the deck's still pretty lucky though.

𓅂 a pocketwatch that also used to belong to kaz. he has like three, I doubt he'd miss this one.

𓅂 a few bullets from jesper's gun, also good luck charms, blessed by jesper's unnaturally straight aim (aka fabrikated)

𓅂 a couple lockpicking tools because you never know when you might need them

WEAPONS—some are stored in my belt, others on my person, every single one felt important to include

𓅂 my beloved garrote wire. inej has her saint knives, jesper has his guns, and I have this. I love this one, though it isn't always practical to use, that's where the others come in. however, if I have a choice, this is what I'm reaching for. stored around the edge of my belt, the ends coming together to make a buckle.

𓅂 the only not-weapon here: a lucky dice keychain that jesper gave me. a little ironic, considering his own bad luck at the tables, however they haven't seemed to give me any bad energy yet. clipped onto the loop on my belt.

𓅂 three feather knives that are my treasures. my garrote is always my first choice, however these babies are just as reliable. my first knives when I came to ketterdam, they've never one done me wrong. usually stashed in my boots.

𓅂 a flip out knife that I brought over from ravka with me. I don't remember where it came from, but something tells me it was once important to someone. and now, it's important to me. usually in my inner pocket.

𓅂 my last feather knife that inej gave me from her collection. she said it was her way of protecting me, by giving me one of her saints. sankta margaretha, I think she said was this knife's name. patron saint of thieves and lost children, I believe. fitting. however, I'm not exactly one to believe in the power of the saints. the gesture means more to me though than the name.

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boneapplet · 26 days ago

Text

From Rust and Bone pt.16

Chronicles of the Lost Primarch

Relationship: Rogal Dorn x oc/afab!reader

Warnings: minor allusion to injury

Word Count: 2125

Requested tag:@noncon-photobomb @beckyninja @blukitty40k @runin64 @ilovewolvezz @meriamarie

Masterlist

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18

The wind hisses along the outer vents, weaving through the spire’s long hallways like breath through hollow reeds. It is late morning, but the light through the frost-streaked slats is dull and gray. Kessa pulls her scarf tight and slings her pack over one shoulder.

“Storm hasn’t dropped the old growth completely,” she says, voice muffled by her scarf. “I’m going to check the north terraces. Moss-root might’ve thickened in the wet. We’ll need it for binding and stock.”

Dorn looks up from where he’s been reinforcing in the side corridor. “I’ll come.”

She shakes her head, adjusting the fit of her outer wrap. “You’ve still got the outer vent girder to seal. That singing means the plates aren’t flush.”

His brow furrow slightly, but he says nothing.

Tipping her head toward the inner storage alcove in the workshop. “Tight-driver’s in the side chest, bottom shelf. Should still be wrapped in oilcloth.”

She leaves quietly; the outer latch groaning shut behind her. Dorn stands up and heads into the workshop. The latch stuck — it always does — but he forces it open with a practiced shove of his hip. Inside are the usual wrapped tools, rust-resistant cloths, bone pins, and a spare pressure gauge, the smell of oil and old metal rising from the depths.

Reaching in, pushing aside a coiled strap… and pauses. There, tucked beneath a folded tarp and half-wrapped in linen, lay a shape that doesn’t belong to any spire mechanism or gear. He peels the cloth back carefully.

It was a hand. Not flesh — metal and carefully whittled bone, smoothed and weathered, but unmistakable. Shaped to his size, his proportions. A prosthetic, partially assembled, the wrist socket still open, wires tucked neatly into place. The fingers are jointed with precision, each knuckle engraved faintly with lines like the veins of a leaf.

Not standard-issue. Not salvaged. But every part is chosen. Fitted with care. His breath catches. She is building this. For him. Turning it slowly in his grip, studying the workmanship. Some parts are scavver-grade — others clearly custom-forged, probably at her old camp or traded quietly during their last stop. It isn’t finished, but it is close. Setting the limb down gently, as if afraid the weight of his gaze alone might collapse the work. There is no paint, no sigil. But the shape of it… it echoes something he’d lost. Something offered back, one piece at a time. He lets the lid drop shut, slow and soundless.

Outside, the wind begins to pick up — soft at first, but steady. Snow scratches against the spire’s outer walls. Somewhere below, a wind flute moans. Dorn looks out through the vent-slit toward the north terraces, imagining her out there, scraping away frost, gathering plants with gloved hands worn thin at the seams.

He doesn’t say anything when she returns. But when she leans the gathered moss-root on the table and shivering off her coat, he takes it from her and hangs it near the hearth before she can ask.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Distant thunder rolls low over the hills, half-swallowed by the rock. The wind having grown teeth now — sharp and seething as it curls around the spire’s base. A thick, peppery scent filling the spire as Kessa feeds strips of moss-root into the hanging basket. Dorn sits by the hearth, sharpening his blade with slow, even strokes. The sound is steady. Calming.

Kessa glances over once, pausing in her sorting. “You always do that after storm signs”

He looks up, not stopping. “It’s the quiet. Makes the hands want to work.”

She snorts softly. “Sing to it next time. Save the edge some wear.”

He gives a faint smile but doesn’t answer. When she turns away again, he looks at her for a moment longer than needed — then lowers his gaze back to his blade. That night, he adds a second layer to the storm-seals without being asked. Takes her coat and brushes the moss-root dust from the sleeves before hanging it back up. Checks the fuel cell housing before bed. Quiet, practical things. No questions. No expectations.

She notices. Doesn’t say anything either. But as she banks the fire before sleep, her glance lingers on him a little longer than usual. There is something like a question behind it. And something like thanks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’re awoken to the sound of a heavy metallic clang. Hurriedly they put on their gear before cautiously peering through slits in the spire, listening to for any other sound. Only the sound of the wind can be heard. Heading out once they’re assured that they’re alone, finding that the sound had come from the outer sluice gate having buckled where the wind has sheared part of its mooring.

Dorn braces it with a salvaged support strut, driving it in with short, deliberate strikes. Kessa stands nearby, holding the tensioned line that keeps the panel steady. Her fingers are wrapped in frayed cloth, smudged with mineral grease.

“You know,” she mutters, “I’ve patched that hinge three times. You make it look like it might actually hold this time.”

Dorn grunts softly. “Didn’t have a fulcrum last time.”

“Didn’t have you either.”

She doesn’t mean it as a compliment, and he doesn’t take it as one. Just a fact. Like the cold in the metal or the long crack along the frame that hasn’t spread today. They work in silence after that — the kind that needs no filling.

Later, inside, Dorn replaces cracked slats on the grain rack while Kessa checks the root-cellar seal. The smell of charred resin hangs faint in the air, laced with the chemical mix she always uses when sealing cuts. He glances once toward the low table near the back of the spire — the one she keeps covered now with a tarp and old tools. She hasn’t mentioned it. He hasn’t asked. That evening, the winds change.

Kessa stands near the upper hatch, peering out across the distant crags. “You feel that?” she asks over her shoulder.

Dorn steps up beside her. Cold riding the air like a memory — dry and bitter.

He nods once. “It’s coming.”

She exhales, low. “Then tomorrow we lock it down. Top to roots.”

“Everything sealed?”

She nods. “Everything but the storm cage under the east stair. I’ll do it first thing.”

Dorn doesn’t argue, but he watches her for a moment longer than necessary. Then quietly moves off to prep more sealant from the stockpile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night the storm rolls in, by morning the wind is no longer a faint moan. It keens down from the ridges like something with teeth — dry, sharp-edged. Kessa rises before the light fully crests and begins checking the inner seals with a small iron lamp in hand. Dorn is already outside, lashing the last of the water drums in the lee of the spire. His cloak snaps behind him, weighed at the hem with carved stone toggles she’d given him weeks ago. He moves with clipped purpose methodically, calm — but even he has begun to glance skyward more often. They work quickly.

The storm cage under the east stairs takes both of them. Dorn holds the rusted latch bar while Kessa drives in reinforced brackets with the heel of her boot and a rust-worn mallet. Wind shoves against them, gritting their faces with silt.

As the sun reaches its apex, the herd’s distant lowing has gone silent — no echo from the steam caves. Even the scavenger birds have vanished from the upper air. Inside, Kessa throws the last of the blankets down by the heating vents. Dorn checks the emergency reserves — protein packs, root mash, dried strips of gourd and meat.

When the first true gust strikes the outer wall, it sounds like a moaning animal. The storm claws at the spire’s reinforced flanks, they sit near the low hearth-pit. Kessa sets a shallow pan over the heated stone and sets to boil a thick broth with moss-root, dried meat, and firebitter. The scent fills the small space like comfort, anchoring them against the howl outside.

Dorn leans forward, cradling the warm bowl she serves him. A shallow slice marks his left forearm — a reminder from the sealwork earlier. He hasn’t yet bandaged it.

“You didn’t dress that,” she says.

“It’s shallow.”

Kessa gives him a look over her bowl. “Shallow turns to rot if you ignore it. Especially in these conditions.”

He grunts but holds the arm out. She set the bowl aside and crosses over to him, crouching with a tin of salve and clean cloth. Dorn watches her work. Hands steady, practiced, her touch brisk but careful. She patched him up before, when he was too weak to lift his head. He hasn’t forgotten.

“You’ve done this before,” he says quietly. “A lot.”

Kessa doesn’t look up. “Grew up doing it. For my brother, mostly. Then for others. When I could. Not everyone makes it long in vent work.”

She ties the cloth tight and sits back on her heels, the quiet between them filling with the fire's soft crackle and the muted fury of the storm beyond.

“Wasn’t exactly trained,” she adds. “But you fix what you can. That’s the rule. Let it take you or walk past it.”

He considers that, then replies, “You didn’t walk past me.”

A pause. She looks up at him then, something unreadable in her expression — not surprise, but maybe the shadow of it. She doesn’t answer, just passes him the bowl of broth. He takes it without another word, letting the warmth seep into his hand.

Later, when they’d eaten and lay in their bedrolls beneath the stone arches, the fire low and the storm still clawing at the walls, Dorn stares up at the ceiling while Kessa’s breathing settles beside him. Not asleep — not yet — but quieter. The warmth between them isn’t just from the fire anymore.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days pass under cloud-thick skies, the storm finally tapering off into brittle frost and a wind that howls like it has teeth. The herd remains in the steam caves, wisely rooted. Dorn and Kessa fall into a rhythm within the agri-spire — sealing draft-ridden seams, checking rations, foraging when the light breaks through. Their time together becomes quieter, steadier. Wordless stretches filled with simple work and the knowledge that the worst of the season has yet come.

Inside, the air smells of cooked moss-root and smoke, faintly metallic from the repairs Dorn had finished earlier in the day. Snow clings to the upper scaffold, crusting along the support beams in brittle sheets. Kessa moves slowly in the warmth of the central chamber, her hands still streaked with oil. Dorn sits cross-legged by the hearth-stove, half-dressed and eating from the shared bowl of root stew they’d made together.

She’s been quiet all day. Something in her manner as she fetches the last piece from the workbench. Something unreadable behind her eyes. She approaches with the bundle held in both hands, wrapped in salvaged cloth. Her expression wavering between resolve and hesitation. And then the radio—long dormant save for static—crackles to life.

“This is Vigilant Vox-Node Theta. If you can hear this…”

Kessa freezes. The voice is degraded but intelligible—filtered through dust and distance.

“…we are survivors of Crusade Action Group Ferrum—designation Astral Knights, Primaris designation. Vessel compromised; insertion failed…”

Dorn stands slowly, the half-eaten bowl forgotten. His face shifts—tightening, alert but subdued. That name. Astral Knights. The same worn sigil from the helmet at the trading post. The one that has lingered in his thoughts like a buried knife.

“…Mission parameters lost. Requesting support, reintegration, or Imperial confirmation. Repeat—this is Crusade Action Group Ferrum. Astral Knight elements confirmed active…”

Kessa looks at him, then down at the bundle in her hands. Her expression is unreadable, pale with something unspoken.

“…Signal locked on distress burst. Coordinates follow. For the Emperor. For Imperium Sanctus. Glory to the lost.”

The message loops. Static surges, then the voice repeats, grainier the second time. Dorn moves toward the receiver. Not reaching for it. Just listening. Weighing. A breath caught in his throat.

When he turns, Kessa has set the cloth-wrapped bundle on the table without a word. She doesn’t open it. Just watching him quietly, her eyes half-lidded in the hearth’s light.

“I didn’t want to keep it from you,” she says after a long moment. “I just… wanted it to be right before you saw it.”

His gaze lingers on the bundle. On her. Then he steps beside her, his hand lightly over hers. Outside, the wind whispers through the spire’s cracked vents. The herd stirs somewhere in the caves below. And between them, what they’ve come to build now tested by a signal from the Imperium, reaching out through ash and silence.

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k oc #warhammer oc #wh40k oc #primarch x oc #warhammer fanfic #warhammer x oc #warhammer 40k x oc #rogal dorn x oc #rogal dorn #astral knights #primaris space marines

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