#traced brok

[aikaterini-drag]

Chapter 16 Reminiscing

Warnings (whole series): Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Barnes Gets all the Love he deserves.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Grace stirred in her slumber, distressed murmurs escaping her lips as tears traced their way down her cheeks. In her nightmare, she was running, struggling to evade a relentless barrage of bullets. Smoke, screams and pain were all around her. Her eyes were blurry, her voice hoarse from screaming. It was unbearable. She wanted it to stop, but with every passing second, the vision became more and more brutal.

More details carved deeper into her consciousness. She witnessed her mother's death, she heard her cries, her screeches. She also saw Silas, her own father, as he plunged the knife into her stomach, again and again. Her sweet mother begged her to leave while crimson blood bubbled from her lips and stomach. Grace could practically feel the sticky blood drenching her skin.

Through the veil of her nightmare, she also sensed a dark figure lurking in the shadows. The unknown presence coiled its arms around her, catching her in his arms. The person forced her away from the carnage as more gunshots rang out and she shrieked, fighting to free herself. Grace realized that the person was actually protecting her. Using the smoke to his advantage, he guided her away from the chaos and as she turned to face him, she met nothing but a pair of striking blue eyes.

She could never forget these eyes.

She knew this man.

A scream ripped itself from her throat as she woke up, eyes flying open, her face covered in tears. Panic clawed at her chest, an invisible vice constricting her lungs. She struggled to get air in her lungs and glanced around, realizing that she was in her room. The moonlight poured in from the panels of Stark Tower, setting light on her pale features.

An aching pain shot straight through her mind and she curled up in pain, clutching her head in agony. The trauma had yet to leave her and more details made it in, so vivid and terrifying that her whole frame shook. Memories and flashbacks resurfaced, every piece assembling full pictures in her mind.

Her hand shot out to the bedside table, her fingers fumbling in search of her inhaler. The plastic container finally met her grasp, and she pressed it to her lips, inhaling the restorative medication. Her heart hammered erratically against her ribcage as she processed the events one by one. As she refueled her lungs with air, she realized that James had been her savior all along. The loss of her mother had traumatized her, overwhelming stress causing her to forget his existence. Another wave of tears rolled down her eyes, her breathing heavier than before.

"Grace?" Natasha's voice sliced through the room, the agent poised with a weapon in hand. "What's wrong?"

It took Grace a few fleeting moments to respond, "I—I had a nightmare. It's nothing, really."

"You were screaming." Natasha set her firearm aside with a guarded intensity. "And you're crying," she observed. The evidence of Grace's turmoil was etched upon her face – red, swollen eyes tainted with shadows.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," Grace managed, her voice wavering as she hastily brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

"I'll fetch the doctor."

"No, please, it's not necessary. I've been on edge with recent events. I'll be fine."

"You can't take this lightly—"

"It was just a nightmare," Grace interrupted gently. "But it felt so vivid like I was reliving it."

"What happened? Do you want to talk to me?" Natasha said, her voice soft.

"James, he saved me five years ago, right??" Grace said, her own words bringing another layer of tears to her eyes.

Natasha let out a heavy breath. "Even I don't know how he did it."

A suffocating silence took over but was soon broken by Grace's next question. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Silas led a group of eight men, including James. Their objective was to eliminate you and your mother." The spy paused, her gaze briefly connecting with Grace's. "I intercepted them but I got wounded, lost consciousness. I'm guessing that in the haze of the blood, you awoke something humane in the Winter Soldier."

Grace scrunched her brow. "And how do you know all of this?"

"For quite some time, Steve and I had kept a watchful eye on him. Hydra repeatedly brainwashed Barnes, but he always managed to prevail. It was during one of his missions as the Winter Soldier that he and Steve reconciled. From that day on, they communicated secretly, forging a plan that would end Hydra once and for all."

"James chose to hide the truth from me..." Grace muttered and slowly rubbed a hand over her chest, soothing the erratic thrumming of her heart.

"He held back because he didn't want to overwhelm you. He wanted you to remember on your own."

"Or perhaps he wanted to make sure that there were no bonds connecting us," Grace responded firmly.

"Please don't think that way," Natasha implored, her hand reaching out to gently rest on Grace's forearm.

"If only I had remembered earlier..."

Grace resisted the urge to cry, the thought of James and their shared past perching her heart like a dagger. The need to reunite with him, to thank him, to save him and come to his aid was stronger than before. He had saved her twice already and despite the torment he treated her with utter tenderness.

"Don't trouble yourself. The fact that you recalled the past is a good thing," Natasha consoled in the softest of tones.

"Yes, but now I'm hurting even more..." Grace said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

"Use that pain to save him."

"Thank you, Natasha." Grace embraced her tenderly before drawing back with a faint smile. "You should go back to sleep. I've troubled you enough."

"Alright. I'll be here if you need—" Natasha's sentence was interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of Braylon's head peeking through the opening. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard screams," Braylon replied matter-of-factly. "I'm Grace's bodyguard, remember?"

"Seems you arrived a bit late, Mr. Bodyguard," Natasha quipped, arching an eyebrow.

Braylon smiled. "You were talking and I didn't want to interrupt."

"I'm alright, Braylon. Go rest," Grace told him with a gentle smile.

"Not before I've made sure of it." Braylon insisted. "I brought you some milk. It'll help you relax."

"You really didn't have to go through the trouble," Grace mumbled as he approached, handing her the warm mug. "Thank you."

Braylon glanced at Natasha and suggested, "You can go ahead. I'll keep her company."

"Guys, I'm fine. Really!" Grace said, awkwardly clutching her warm milk.

"You still look a bit pale," Natasha said but a heavy yawn escaped her.

"And you're clearly sleepy. You yawned wide enough to fit a bike wheel!" Grace retorted, unable to hold back a laugh.

"Quite the comparison, I must say." As she slowly exited the room, Natasha rubbed her eyes and added, "Well, now that Braylon's here, I can rest easy."

"I'll stay for a few minutes," Braylon said, crouching beside the bed.

Grace looked down at him, eyes wide. "You're treating me like a child."

"And you should drink your milk like a good young lady," Braylon remarked nonchalantly.

"Alright, alright!" Grace said, taking big sips from her milk. "I'm almost done."

He chuckled. "No need to rush. Take your time."

"I hope Tony's paying you enough," she muttered. "You're doing far too much for me."

"I'm happy to do so." Braylon flashed her a grin. "Plus, I'm handsomely paid. More than you can imagine."

"Got it, got it," Grace smiled. "You really do love to boast."

"You smiled. Good. I wanted to help you forget... if only for a moment," Braylon's tone was stern before returning to its customary gentleness. "Your nightmares are tied to him, to the Winter Soldier."

"It's not his fault," she said. "And his name is James. James Bucky Barnes."

Braylon shrugged. "Even so, he's a fool to let you slip away."

"Are you here to gossip?"

"Delving into your personal life is one of my favorite pastimes," he quipped, offering a smug smile.

"Enough teasing. I care about James. I won't abandon him."

"But he abandoned you."

Her eyes darkened. "You wouldn't understand, and that's alright."

"Alright... I don't want to press you further. Sweet dreams, Grace." With some reluctance, he stood up. "See you tomorrow."

When she was left alone, Grace dragged the covers up to cocoon herself, curling her limbs. She felt cold and lonely. She missed the feel of his arms around her, his fingers brushing against her skin, his soothing whispers chasing away her fears. She yearned for the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the sense of security he brought with him. Without him by her side, the night felt empty, and the silence seemed to heighten her restless thoughts.

She lay there, a solitary figure in the darkness, caught in a silent battle against her own thoughts. And as the night stretched on, her longing for his warmth and scent only deepened, a constant reminder that sleep would not visit her without James there to hold her close.

[queer-irritator]

A New Neighbor | GN! Reader x Kratos | Chapter 11

Content Warning: Adult language

Word Count: 1,150

Chapter 10, Chapter 12

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You were standing still with your arms raised above your head as Brok was getting your measurements. You were wanting to clear the air with him, but you had a feeling it would be fruitless. 

“Ya got a weapon?” Brok broke the silence. 

“Yeah, I have a spear, why?” You questioned.

“My brother could take a looks at it, wouldn’t be as good as if I did, though…” he finished your measurements and started to get to work.

“Okay… Thank you.” You were grateful that everyone has been so kind and giving to you. 

You walked into your bedroom; Kratos was sitting on the edge of his bed. He was shirtless and had a finger tracing a raised scar on his forearm. 

No, scars. 

There were scars in the marks of chains that encased both of his forearms. That must have hurt… who would do that to another person? Or maybe he did it to himself?

Kratos was so consumed in his own thoughts of the past that he didn’t notice you enter the room. The marks left from his past forever haunts him. It was one of his greatest mistakes, making a deal with the god of war. 

You had to tear your eyes away from staring at him. He looked so sad, so vulnerable. You doubt he would want anyone to see him like this. So, you decided to act like you never did. You walked over to your side of the room, with your back to Kratos and spotted your spear leaning up against the corner of the room behind a large cabinet, it must have rolled back there.

Kratos lifted his head and saw you. He felt naked. He felt like he had been walked in on the most intimate moment of his life. 

“You saw.” He spoke, cutting the silence.

“Saw what?” You played dumb, reaching your hand behind the cabinet.

Kratos stayed silent, watching you struggle to reach your weapon and debating if he believed your words.

“Gods.” You muttered to yourself as you tried to push the cabinet to the side, but it must have weighed 1,000 pounds. 

Kratos stood and walked up behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he reached behind the cabinet to help you. 

Your cheeks were on fire, but your body was frozen. You turned your head to look at him, but noticed his arm was still bare. 

Kratos grabbed your weapon with ease and handed it to you, taking a few steps back as to not invade your personal space any longer. 

You turned to face him, now there was no denying it now. 

“I wasn’t gonna ask about them. It’s not my place to.” You looked into his eyes as you spoke.

“Mh.” Kratos was looking right back at you. 

After a few moments passed, he turned his back to you and began to put on his armor, starting with wrapping his arms. 

You quietly left the room and took your spear to Sindri.

“Hey, Brok said I could take my spear to you for some upgrades?” You questioned, said spear in your hands. 

“Of course! Let me have a look at it.” Sindri responded happily. 

You handed him your spear. It was plain, forged from Asgardian ingot with a rawhide grip in the middle.

Sindri carefully inspected the spear, “Some nice craftsmanship! Where’d you get it from?”

“Oh, well I just found it one day when I was exploring. It was actually lodged in some guy’s chest.” You explained. 

Sindri immediately dropped the spear and gagged, “Some guy’s chest?” he repeated your words.

“Uhm- yeah, but I’ve cleaned it since then! I swear.” You assured him, momentarily forgetting how anxious the dwarf was. 

Sindri reluctantly picked up the spear and began cleaning it himself, “It’ll be a minute.” 

“Okay.” You nodded at him and turned on your heel, surveying the house to see what you could do to stay busy.

You noticed Mimir on the table alone and walked over to him. 

“Hey you.” You greeted him, sitting down at the table.

“Aye! You gave everyone quite the scare last night.” Mimir was glad you were doing better.

“Sorry about that, at least I always recover...!” You attempted to make light of the situation.

“Mh, always looking on the bright side.” He reminisced as to how hadn’t changed much since you both were kids. 

You smiled at him. Talking with Mimir made you feel so comfortable and at home. You’d missed him more than you could comprehend. 

“Soooo, I couldn’t help but notice that you ‘n Kratos have been spending some time together.” Mimir was stating the obvious, hoping you would open up to him now that you were alone.

You could feel your cheeks heat up slightly, it was harder to mask your true feelings in front of him. 

“Yeah… and?” You tried to play it cool.

“And??” he raised an eyebrow at you. “The “and” is that Kratos doesn’t just trust anyone.” He explained. 

“Yeah, I kind of got that feeling from him.” Your thoughts went back to just a few minutes ago.

“Oh, I know that look… What’re ye thinking about?” Mimir saw right through you. 

“Well…” You didn’t know how to explain the situation without invading Kratos’ privacy, “Let’s just say I saw “underneath” a few of his layers.” If Mimir also knew what you did, he would catch on. 

“Ahhh, I see…” He was surprised that you had seen something so personal about Kratos and he didn’t hear any yelling or furniture breaking. 

“Well, I can’t speak about his past, but… maybe if you asked him, he’d open up a tad.” Mimir advised.

“But… I don’t wanna push him.” You laid crossed your arms on the table and laid your head on top of them.

“He’ll let you know if you go too far, trust me.” He explained. 

You whined slightly, becoming anxious about the thought of possibly upsetting Kratos and then ruining the trust you’ve built with him. 

“He’s just…” you glanced around the room to make sure the coast was clear before leaning in closer to Mimir and whispering, “He’s so fucking hot and sexy and nice and sweet and beautiful and caring. I don’t wanna mess anything up.” You finally confessed. 

“Ohhh,” Mimir said with a chuckle, “Just as I expected… but don’t worry, (y/n). You’ll do fine.” He assured you. 

You rolled your eyes when you heard Mimir laugh, but appreciated his words.

“Also, he’ll never make the first move.” Mimir warned.

You groaned in response and stared at your friend. “But… you think I have a shot?” 

“Aye. Never seen him open up this fast to someone. Plus, the boy likes you too.” Mimir noted to you. 

Hearing that made you smile, “Thanks, Mimir.” You placed a hand on top of his head as a form of endearment. 

“Anytime, lad.” He assured you. 

[simpforjesus]

The Missing Huldra Brother AU

WARNIG: Contains torture and dark things happen. Also Heavy Angst with happy ending. If that is not your thing then please don’t read!

I had to write down this idea because there are not enough Brok and Sindri fanfictions! Also sorry for any grammar mistakes

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First part takes place before god of war 2018

A few years after Brok and Sindri part ways Odin kidnaps Sindri in secret, and forces him to make weapons and armor for the Asgardians.

Brok doesn’t notice Sindri is missing until it’s too late. ( if your avoiding someone you need to know where they are.) Brok starts to get worried so he searches for Sindri but finds no trace of him.

When Brok meets Kratos and Atreus, he tells them about his missing brother and Atreus says they will tell Brok if they find any trace of Sindri. (That sounds like something Atreus would say)

Then fast forward to god of war ragnarok

When Atreus returns to Asgard to spy on Odin and help him get the mask, he discovers Sindri in a hidden forge where he is forced to work and he is not in good shape. Not only has Odin been forcing Sindri to make things for the Asgardians, he’s also been torturing poor Sindri both physically and mentally. Odin even shaved Sindri’s hair and beard and used some of it to sew Sindri’s mouth shut so he could not talk back. (a friend told me that dwarves hair is very strong in Norse mythology, and they used that to sew Loki’s mouth shut, if I’m wrong then please correct me). Odin also has convinced Sindri no one cares about him or is going to rescues him.

Atreus tries to rescue Sindri, but fails so Sindri gives Atreus a note to give to Brok. The note basically explains that Sindri is alive and was kidnapped by Odin and Tyr is actually Odin in disguise

Brok does not die and is furious, at Odin for kidnapping and torturing his brother!

During the battle of ragnarok Brok tries to find Sindri but once again finds nothing. When Kratos fights Odin, Odin says he hid Sindri in a place Brok will never find and mocks Brok for not being able to save his brother.

Brok is the one who destroys Odin’s soul and he now thinks his brother is dead and is now very depressed.

But Freya and Kratos find Sindri unconscious and seriously hurt in the same prison as the real Tyr. So they take him back to Brok’s home in the realm between realms and Freya heals him as best she can. Once Freya does all she can do, Brok takes over. Staying by Sindri’s side and talking care of him.

When Sindri wakes up he doesn’t think Brok is real, and is only Odin taking on Brok’s form to trick him. (This is how Odin would mentally  torture Sindri.) Brok eventually convinces his brother he’s the real deal and is pulled into a tearful hug(both Brok and Sindri and crying tears of relief) Sindri thought he’d never see Brok again and Brok thought he’d lost his brother for good. The two tearfully apologize and make up and Brok helps Sindri recover both physically and mentally.

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I don’t know if I’ll actually make a fanfiction out of this idea. Just because I find it really hard to accurately write Brok and Sindri accurately. But if anyone wants to make something with this idea then go ahead. Also feedback is appreciated. ❤️❤️

[derekscorner]

When stories set their worlds in Decline

Where to start?

I am not sure how to start this or really frame it so I will just ramble about it. I'm not even sure if I put the right tags for this since Fate put the thought in my brain but many stories aside Fate do similar.

I'm not sure if it is even a trope but the thought on my mind lately is an irk I've developed when stories set their world amongst a decline.

Whether it's the slow death of gods, magic, or both.

The entire Fate series, for those not aware, is such a story. The magic wielded by fan fans like Rin Tohsaka is really second hand magic referred to as "magecraft". Within Fate a true magician is someone who has a power that fundamentally breaks the rules.

In a sense, magecraft is a type of science in it's own right while true magic will let you do crazy shit like how the mage Aoko can manipulate time.

Or there is the "second magic" wielded by Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg which lets him see and visit alternative timelines. However, this "true magic" isn't easily obtained and even the knockoff magecraft is a slowly dwindling system.

Within Fate the "age of gods" ended and magic nearly vanished. As humans understand more of their world, the less mysterious it becomes, and since magic/magecraft rely on mystery that means it's dying slowly.

In essence, as humans grow the mystery and magic it offers dies. Within Fates "age of man" the gods and nearly every magical creature has done retreated from it. In time humans will progress beyond their Earth leaving it all behind.

Faith as a Fuel?

Another aspect of the series is how "gods" are designated by faith. When enough humans believe in something the planet will grant that entity "authority" and make them what humans view as gods.

The oldest were nature spirits, some were even of ET origin, while later gods were men whose legends grew well beyond their breadth.

And, like mentioned, Fate isn't the only story with these ideals. Using faith as a fuel source is prominent in many throw away manga, stories, or even western movies like both versions of the film 'Clash of the Titans'.

Hell, even something like God of War initially had this premise. The creator of the series initially planned for Kratos to kill all the gods which would then lead to monotheism. You'll even see abandoned hints for this in something like God of War 1 with it's mural of the magi following the star.

And while I am thankful that God of war has seemingly abandoned this idea traces of it remain which add to some inconsistency. Granted, the classic games have a few plot holes and more than one inconsistent moment if you pick it apart but they're more glaring in the new Norse titles due to it's heavier story focus.

Like the idea that magic is "tied to the land". Their excuse for Kratos loss of powers is him literally murdering Greece yet he -somehow- is cursed to have his Blades of Chaos follow him. They even retain their magical properties which the dwarf Brok notices instantly referring to it as "foreign magic".

And I wont even get into the idea of Kratos being a god when he explicitly lost his godhood in the second game. A born demigod sure but the Norse pantheon treat him like a full/true god even if of another land.

Never explain the magic

Now I know all of this seems disjointed but they do share a common trend that I have issue with. The root of what's annoying me lately with such stories.

They're explaining the magic

Rather, it's adjacent to explaining the magic. It's the idea that a world loses it's luster as you learn more about it. The idea that knowing what a god is or how magic works makes it less potent.

Sure, it's less mystical, but I do not like this idea that it's less wonderful. I can't take the gods of your world seriously when they need human faith to function. That undermines the whole point to me.

There's nothing godly about what boils down to a being that leeches off positive thoughts. There's nothing magical about a world that is not only less so as science progress but also dying because of it.

Imagine how much interest I lost when I learned that Fate's Earth is slowly dying. Magic barely appears and the mana used to do magecraft or other supernatural feats is a finite resource. It's a whole other meaning to the idea that humans are slowly killing the world they inhabit.

And I know this is a fully subjective problem. I wont make the mistake as considering this an objective issue. It is something I have misgivings about because when I seek stories I seek something fantastical.

I live in the real world, I keep a very hard line between that and anything else, so I do not wish to be reminded of the real world in a story. I'm seeking an escape from my boring reality not a reminder of how it got here.

I'll stop now

I guess the blunt way to put this is that it ruins the joy of a world. It's related but a specific, grander, issue than "explaining the magic". After all, at minimum, to explain something can be meh or annoying at the most. It's a minor problem.

But to take that idea on a grander scale to make a world more realistic, a god more human, or explain how someone can do the impossible? No. That's not impressing me that's depressing me.

This may be why I rarely find Final Fantasy or Shin Megami Tensei games that I can enjoy because most boil down to killing god or some stand in for a false god.

I'm not very invested nor do I feel like something grand took place when a world is "left in human hands". I live in a world ran by human hands, I'm not impressed with what I see.

A GoW:Ragnarok review I watched the other day said it best- no. More like he said something that just aligned heavily with my issues on it all.

While I love Kratos story of learning to be a decent father and less violent god I do, like that reviewer, find it silly to seek humanizing gods or supernatural beings.

For storytelling purposes, yes, some level of comprehension is needed. This is the whole reason why "nobodies" from Kingdom Hearts act so human despite lacking the core "heart" needed to feeling.

But that doesn't mean I want them to be human. I'd totally buy something fundamentally not human doing or planning something in a way that makes no sense to me.

That creature, be it god, fae, or otherwise, is not human. It's similar but it isn't human. It may think on a grander scale due to it's immortality or it may not plan at all due to it's mischievous nature.

Bah! I'll stop now. I've ranted enough to feel better. Have a nice day assuming you read this far.

[google-searchhistory-official]

hey hi :) heres your oc lore ask :3 any particular blorbos rotating around rn that want their lore to get shared?

Strangely enough, her. This is Vida. Last time she was on my mind was like two years ago and only reappearing to fit in more with the development ideas for my Arceal Storyline.

She is a realm jumper who got lost.

Arceal is a desert country in a broken universe, and as such, itself is broken. Specifically broken into 3 or 4 worlds. The 3 or 4 is wholly Vida's fault by the way.

The first event that broke the world was the ultra beast invasion, which put it into a whole new universe. The second was a wish to do away with humans. Already fragile, the world broke beyond repair with experiments done to Vida and her sunkern friend Vlad. They were test subjects to claim the power of gods and to be controlled by humans. The wish to do away with all humans was made by a uxie at the exact moment these two went through the experiment.

Most pokemon that had too fond of memories of humans fell into the alternate timeline populated by them, others fell into a different world where they never existed but still had memories of them but only through environmental structures. Vida fell into neither. She loathed humanity but was not allowed death or traversal. She and Vlad walk alone in the empty world the wish left behind, but there are points of contact.

The world, broken, never left its space. Each universe is layered on top of the other, like a matroyshka doll almost. Each dimension fights for control but the desert, pokemon only, world of Arceal reigns supreme and its history is that of gods against mortals, forgotten legends, and the plaything of that damned uxie who made the wish.

That reigning dimension has a few who are capable of traversing through the others. The king of Arceal, Umbreon Teron Ook, is the sole mortal capable of pulling others out of the inbetween dimension but not the human one nor the 4th.

The 4th is much like the inbetween but safer to access and has rituals to open portals in and out of it only to Arceal. This is the one Vida unknowingly crosses into from the inbetween, and from there she can enter Arceal before fading back to the inbetween after a limited amount of time.

Other pokemon in Arceal will get there memories confused with false lives in the human world. When this happens they start to fade, slowly. They become surrounded with shadow and are almost see through. Others also start to lose memories of them. Whether they enter the human world or disappear is unknown. Not because the human world is inaccessible, but because a starborn egg appears from nowhere in Arceal. An egg with no lineage to trace and high possibility of never hatching or maturing.

Vida catches glimpses of these shades only briefly in the inbetween. They scare her with their formless shades. She is angry at this whole situation and only sees Vlad as the one real thing she knows. Each time she passes into the 4th or Arceal she attacks. Only Teron knows her situation and he can't help, not only because he has his own shit with sharing his body with Storm Eye and trying to ditch his crown, but because she hates him more than any other pokemon.

This king who can travel freely without fear, who knows her plight, who cannot help her. He infuriates Vida into a murderous rampage and his only solution to keep others safe is to send her back to being lost in the inbetween.

Arceal and the other worlds are also not geologically locked, and the edges of each are all noneuclidean. So each time she is sent back, its unknown where to. Outsiders that somehow walk in to the country also change the world. Until recently, Arceal only had sea to its north but because of outsiders that jave made relations and homes in Arceal, there is now a permanent fixture of a mountainous country where sea used to be.

Vida is also pissed because the experiments failed. Vlad is forever stuck as a sunkern, and she was blinded and stripped of her powers by the broken reality event. During such an event, she saw all possible histories of each reality. Her omniscience was sudden and unwanted, she clawed her own eye out and it dulled her back to only what she saw before her. An empty, desolate world. Impossibly large. The only powers that remain are flight through her new wings, a general compass to find Vlad, immortality, and passive regenerative healing to those around her. That last one she has not seen in action because her attacks are violent enough to stall any noticeable changes caused by it.

She uhhh... She's just happy I'm talking about her. Also that she's not a starborn.

Oh also. Starborn are basically lost souls in the absolute void being given another chance at life by the god of nothing.(pepsi but that's not important to this universe. only the adjacent multiverse of other ocs)

[hermmachinery]

How to Choose the Main Machines for Building a Medium-sized Feed Production Line

Generally, the process flow of small and medium-sized livestock and poultry feed plants consists of raw material receiving, crushing, batching, mixing, feed pelletizer, cooling, screening, and finished product packaging sections. The core feed-making production equipment is a crusher, mixer, and feed pellet machine. The selection of this equipment plays a vital role in the feed quality of a feed factory. Next, Henan Herm Co., Ltd. will briefly describe the functions and selection of the core equipment.

1. Crusher The power allocation of crushers generally accounts for about 1/3 of the total power allocation of feed plants. How to reasonably select advanced crushing equipment, design the best process route, and correctly use crushing equipment is very important for poultry feed equipment.

SFSP series hammer crusher is generally used for livestock and poultry feed. Herm SFSP series crusher has high efficiency, good crushing performance, and good adaptability. It is widely used by customers. It is suitable for the production of all kinds of pigs, chickens, cattle, and sheep.

2. Mixer In the feed pellet production line, the working condition of the main mixer not only determines the product quality but also plays a decisive role in the productivity of the production line and feed quality. Therefore, it is known as the "heart" of the feed factory. At present, the most widely used in the market is the double-shaft paddle mixer. Herm SHSJ series double shaft high-efficiency mixer has a fast mixing speed, mixing uniformity of more than 95%, and the mixture has no segregation phenomenon. Especially when the particulate materials (trace additives) are in the flow state, the diffusion mixing effect is better.

During the use of the mixer, the sealing strip shall be replaced regularly to prevent material leakage, to ensure the uniformity of all materials in the mixing process; At the same time, clean the mixer regularly to prevent the materials from adhering to the inner wall of the mixer from breeding bacteria and mildew in a humid environment, which will affect the quality of livestock and poultry feed.

3. Feed Pellet Machine The Feed Pellet Machine is the key equipment for the production of pellet feed, and it is also one of the equipment with the largest power consumption in the feed mill plant. Its energy consumption accounts for more than 40% of the total energy consumption of the feed plant, so it needs to be comprehensively considered in the equipment selection. At present, a ring molding feed pelletizer machine is mainly used in the market, which is characterized by large output, uniform discharge, good material shape, and stable quality.

According to different driving modes, the ring mold feed pellet machine can be divided into gear type and belt type. Gear transmission is adopted with high efficiency, and its output is 15% higher than that of the belt type. For example, the Herm SZLH series feed pellet machine adopts a high-precision aviation-grade gear grinding process to ensure stable gear transmission and low noise. With the humanized design concept, the whole machine has the characteristics of small land occupation, low power consumption, low noise, and high safety performance, which can create benefits for the feed plant for a long time and stably.

4. Cooling and Fragmentation Effects The particle cooling is uniform and moderate. Now the counter flow cooler is widely used, which has high cooling efficiency and good effect; The particle crushing equipment shall be repaired in time after the teeth of the crushing roller are blunt. Otherwise, the extrusion effect of the crushing roller will become stronger, the particle uniformity of the feed will become worse, and the crushing rate will increase. During normal production, the gap between crushing rollers shall be properly adjusted according to the feed variety;

After the granular material is broken, the plane rotary classification screen with a small screen surface inclination shall be used for screening treatment, especially in large feed plants. When the screen surface inclination is too large, the screening of granular material will be insufficient, increasing the pulverization rate of granular material.

After pelleting the mixed powdered feed, the nutrition and edible quality of the feed can be improved to varying degrees. pelleting is not only suitable for livestock and poultry feed but also for aquatic products and special feed. Due to the different varieties and components of feed raw materials and the different scales of finished products, there are also different requirements for the performance and structural parameters of granulating equipment. Henan Herm Co., Ltd. will customize each poultry feed-making machine according to the actual situation of customers to maximize benefits for customers.

The selection of core equipment can get twice the result with half the effort for a feed plant with continuous production, effectively reducing equipment maintenance time and improving feed production efficiency. In addition to the above three core equipment, the feed plant also has some supporting equipment, such as a scraper conveyor, bucket elevator, feeding auger, rotary vibrating screen, distributor, etc. Henan Herm will provide you with a full-line configuration scheme to create a one-stop service system from preliminary design, production, and manufacturing to later construction, maintenance, and so on.https://www.youtube.com/embed/Pl-KTIzban0?rel=0

Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd was established in 2010 and has been devoted to the research and development of Feed Mill Machinery ever since. With more than 10 years of experience, Herm® has become a leading manufacturer and supplier of animal feed machines and complete animal feed production lines, cattle feed plants, poultry feed plants, animal feed pellet production lines, etc. It always endeavored to improve the quality of products and aims to meet the new requirements of the international market. 

If You Are Ready to Start a Feed Pellet Plant Business, please contact us for the feed mill machine. We Can Provide Professional Design and Comprehensive Guidance According to Your Needs. Get in touch with us now!

Welcome Contact Us!

Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd

Email: info@hermmachinery.com

Whatsapp: 0086 18037508651

[god-of-war-cheats-63]

god of war cheats PC JT5#

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Unlock Everything ; Gives all gear at MAX and Poseidon's Trident (does not give all keys, feathers or eyes) · Unlocks Very Hard, Costumes and all Treasures. The best place to get cheats, codes, cheat codes, walkthrough, guide, FAQ, unlockables, trophies, and secrets for God Of War () for PlayStation 4 (PS4). Get God of War Trainers and cheats for Steam with the WeMod app. With his vengeance against the Gods of Olympus behind him and his son at his side. There are no official God Of War cheats for PC that you can use by activating any in-game cheat console. But, there are trainers and cheat. 9 Users on the IGN Boards discovered that the runes that adorned the map could be translated into a treasure map of sorts. The writing in the top corner reads:. There are also more runes present along the length of the World Serpent that circles the map - and they can be translated as such:. Along the sides of the map are the steps that Brok and Sindri took. Using the compass directions you can trace their path along the map from square to square. Users on Reddit deciphered the path and user Khanys found the golden circle on Muspelheim Tower Which you can get to by crossing behind the Statue of Thor on Lookout Tower. To obtain the treasure, stand on the circle on Muspelheim Tower and look don't zoom in at the following points while moving the camera quickly between points:. Doing this correctly, you'll hear gongs, and a Realm Tear will appear before you - allowing you to collect the Forbidden Grip of the Ages - an upgradable Legendary Axe Pommel that grants 8 Strength and 6 to all other Stats, and adds a concussive wave after a light attack combo! You can get an unlimited number of XP points by using the shield parry and loading checkpoint trick as shown in video:. Then goto a different beach location around the lake that has enemies on the beach and get the final task done to get your XP. Then reload your last checkpoint that will start on the beach when you first arrived and do the task and repeat repeat repeat. Dont worry this wont make the game super easy. Change Status. This page contains known cheats and or secrets that you can find or enable in God of War. Now look to the left brazier and back to Tyr's Temple. Look to the right brazier and back to the left brazier. Having just looked to the left brazier, now look back straight ahead to Tyr's Temple again. Now look down to the floor then look up to the right brazier and then back to the left brazier, and finally look back to Tyr's Temple to reveal the forgotten treasure. Was this guide helpful? Leave feedback. In This Wiki Guide. God of War Santa Monica Studio. Apr 20, ESRB: Mature. PC PlayStation 4. Nick Fury Samuel L. Codename Red is set in feudal Japan, a historical period frequently requested by fans. In this brief trailer, a Shinobi is seen jumping onto a pitched roof and then unsheathing their hidden blade.

[gummmy]

Mommy- I mean.. I was gonna post this earlier but wanted to fix Brock.

For transparency sake I literally can’t draw Brock Samson so I traced his body form, the kids are all mine tho

[marvelmymarvel]

Behind the Mask

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Synopsis: You never realized how much you missed seeing him in the mask, until he put it back on.

Song: City of the Dead by Eurielle https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=7bpwXXEKDAg&feature=share

A/n: The gif I think is when he was 14ish, but him and the reader are both 25 in this story. Also, I’m a sucker for Naruto Mom Figure reader. Fight me on it.

Everything felt tense despite the crowds around you cheering happily. You didn't know if the feeling was because of your own Shinobi instincts or if you knew that an enemy was planning on targeting this event thanks to Kakashi. Naruto tugged on your arm, snapping you from your thoughts as he began to bound towards the seats. You were able to catch yourself and catch up with him, but the sudden loud roar of the crowd caused your breath to catch in your throat. 

Naruto let go of your hand as you entered the mouth of the archway leading to the stands, you were on the second level of the arena, hoping that maybe you could have time to get the both of you out of there in case something happened. The second level was also where you saw them. Your eyes caught sight of the ANBU on the roof tops, causing your blood to run cold. “Son of a bitch” you breathed out, if Naruto caught sight of them he would surely know that something was up.

Biting your lip, you let the boy drag you down to the middle row, innocently unaware of the threat that the ANBU’s presence foreshadowed. “HEY!” Naruto’s screech caused you to jump, eyes wide and frantically searching around for any threat, only stopping when you heard Naruto laugh beside you. “Man, you are jumpy today! Kakashi-Sensei wasn’t kidding when he said that you jump every time he surprises you” 

Your eyes narrowed at the blonde before you stuck out your tongue at him, “Don't forget who raised you, ya little shi-” Another roar of clapping and cheers cut you off and pulled Naruto’s attention to the fighting below. He soon joined in on the cheering, standing quickly as he shook his fists and screamed along with those around you. Slyly, you drug your eyes across the mouth of the open roof. 

“Did you see that!?” Naruto screamed back at you, making your e/c eyes snap back to his. A sweet smile formed on your face, dread flowing through your veins as the number you counted repeated over and over in your head. “No... But I’m sure it was amazing, right!?” 8, there were 8 ANBU on top of the building.

This was serious. 

Naruto nodded at your question and began to explain what just happened but before he could finish, he was once again cut off by the cheering. You watched him silently, your smile falling as you realized how stupid this was. You should have just told the kid that you couldn’t go, but you knew him. If you told him no he would come by himself, and in turn he would have been in danger without you being there to protect him.

But who was to protect you?

Sure you were a Shinobi, had been for about 11 years now, but you weren’t the best of the best. You were no Kakashi, hell, you were a nobody. You were just a pawn, you weren’t the queen of the chess board. “Fuck” you hissed as Naruto knocked over his drink onto you in excitement, his face falling in fear at the word that fell from your lips. 

“I’m sorry”

You realized it sounded harsh just by the way his voice shook, forcing a smile onto your face you stood and brushed off the ice that soaked your pants. “I’ll go get us another drink, okay kiddo?? You stay here and keep cheering.” leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head, you smiled at the way his mood changed. He didn’t fight you off, once again engrossed in the fight as he began cheering. 

Turning away from him, you let your smile drop as your thoughts began to cloud your head. You weren’t safe, meaning he wasn’t safe. Fuck, where was Kakashi when you needed him?! No, no he cant know that the two of you are here, he told you not to be here. He specifically stated that this attack would most likely happen. But did you listen, no, and look where it got you! 

In danger.

“Fuck” you snapped out as you whipped the empty cup into the trashcan at the top of the stairs. A couple people threw glares your way at your profanity, but you simply pushed past them and headed towards the bathrooms. You had to think of something, but you couldn’t with all of the screaming going on. Spotting the sign for the bathrooms, you picked up your pace, the taste of silence on your tongue.

Turning the corner, you began to walk down the hall towards the bathrooms. While the silence began to surround you the further you walked, so did the fear that something was off. Stopping in your tracks, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to pinpoint the feeling. Your breath caught as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, spinning around, you were face to face with an ANBU.

But the mask gave you a mixture of both dread and relief.

The mixture of feelings confused you, but what confused you even more was the fact that you instinctively threw yourself into his arms. You let out a sob as you shoved your face into his neck, he wrapped his arms around you slowly and while it was sweet, you could feel his anger in the way he held onto you. Despite everything going on around you. Despite the fact that he was pissed off on another level that you were here. 

You couldn’t help but feel safe when your own personal ANBU was near. “I told you not to come here, Y/n. What the hell are you doing here” Kakashi's snarl caused you to whimper as you shoved your face further into his neck in order to ‘hide’ from him. The feeling of his arms around you was nice, and the mere sight of the mask you missed so much filled you with relief. Yet, you couldn’t help but be concerned with why he was wearing it.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pulled back from him. Looking up, you could see a hint of his Sharingan from the left eye hole while the other was pitch black. “Why are you wearing the mask” you whispered out, hands slowly going up to cup the sides of it. He didn’t push you away as you traced your fingers along the red lines, something you used to always do during his time with the elite group of Shinobis.

“That's what you’re asking me?” 

You fought back a sly smirk, but he saw a hint of mischief glimmer in your eyes as you cocked your head up at him. “You know I’ve always loved this mask, but I never liked what it did to the man I loved behind it” Sadness soon replaced your mischief as you remembered the sleepless nights and panic attacks that being apart of the ANBU did to Kakashi. The third Hokage pulling him from the team was the best thing that he could have ever done, especially since Kakashi is too damn stubborn to quit.

Even if it could have killed him.

Nausea formed in your throat, causing you to gulp at the sudden change of your emotions. You didn’t want to see this mask anymore, you just wanted to see him. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes as your fingers rested at the bottom edge of the mask. Kakashi didn’t fight you as you lifted it up with shaky fingers, knowing that what he went through was also felt by you, just on a different level.

Quite possibly a worse level.

“I hate this mask, I hate what it did to you” you whimper out, tears falling down your cheeks as you ripped it off his head. His eyes stared at you, pain clearly evident on both his face and in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was his own personal sadness, or if he was saddened by your reaction, but it didn’t matter to you. 

You dropped the mask to the ground before placing both hands on his face, “Please, never put that back on.” The both of you knew that he couldn’t exactly keep that promise, but neither one of you wanted to say it. Your fingers snuck under the top of the cloth covering the lower half of his face, only then did he grabbed your hands in his, eyes warning you to be more cautious of your surroundings. 

“We’re alone” you muttered out, eyes wide and pleading for him to let you see him. It wasn’t like you didn't see his face as you saw it every day, but right now, right here, the need to see him was intense. He could sense your urgency and how you were teetering on a mental breakdown. He wished that he could tell you that he was a different person now behind the mask. 

But you had to see it for yourself.

Letting go of your fingers, he let you peel down the cloth till it fell below his chin. His hands rested on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears as your own hands wandered around his face. “It's me, I'm still here with you” he cooed out as your fumbling grew rough and desperate. Nothing felt real, it felt like you were both transported to the past. The past where you loved seeing him in the mask, as it showed strength, yet you hated it as it hurt the man you truly loved wearing it.

“I don’t want to lose you” 

He shook his head firmly, his own fingers digging into your fleshy cheeks as if he was trying to ground you to him. “You’re not gonna lose me, stop your tears. Its just a mask” his words would seem harsh to anyone else, but the words he spoke were the same words you would coo in his ear when he couldn’t sleep. They were the same words you’d remind him every time he left for a mission. They were the same words you’d state when he’d return.

Its just a mask.

Nodding, you moved your hands down to cup the sides of his neck, enjoying the feeling of his warm flesh on your finger tips. He observed you, looking for any signs that you were about to breakdown again, but he was relieved when a smile formed on your lips. You looked back up to say something but were unable to get a word out as he pressed his lips firmly against yours. A moan of surprise flew from your lips as he pushed you back towards the wall. You tripped over the mask, causing it to skid across the hall as you sunk deeper into his embrace. 

For a minute, the two of you felt alone in the world. As if nothing else mattered and no danger could ever get to you. A particularly loud roar of cheering broke you apart, breathing shakily as you tried to catch your breath.

His thumb caressed your chin lovingly, "Next time I tell you to stay home... Please listen" you smiled sheepishly at the words, completely forgetting about how much trouble you were in. "Actually, do me a favor. Fake a sickness to Naruto, that'll surely make him worried enough to help you home... You both need to get out of here" he continued to talk as he moved away from your breathless body. He pulled up his cloth as he reached down to grab the kicked away mask.

It would be the last time he'd wear this mask... He had to make sure of it, because he wasn't sure if he could see the heartbroken look on your face again. You nodded at his plan, knowing that Naruto was always worried about your health and in turn would do anything to make sure you were 'safe and sound'. Moving back to you, Kakashi stopped just centimeters from your face. Your eyes were trained on the mask in his hands, the urge to burn the stupid thing bubbling to the surface of your chest. He cupped your chin once more before forcing your head up to look at him. "I love you" he whispered out before pressing his covered lips against yours. Pulling back, he slipped on the mask and began to walk down the hall.

"Please come back to me" you cried out, pushing off the wall shakily as you watched him go. He halted at your outcry, a hidden smile forming on his lips as he looked back at you.

"I'll always come back to you"

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

archetype au

ok so sapnap is going to check up on dream right?? cuz yknow keep him hidden but dont leave him alone too long he already had solitary confinement-

and then he hears something shatter, so he starts running to get there faster; and when he opens the door, he sees shattered, white porcelain on the floor of one side of the room, and dream, curled up into a ball and hiding his face in his knees on the other.

turns out dream brok his mask and has!! mixed feelings on doing this.

on one hand XD wouldnt let him take it off, even when he was alone. hed done awful things in that mask and wearing it almost made him feel like he wasnt human. no one, not even him at this point, was comfortable seeing the hollow smile carved into the mask.

on the other hand, it was his mask. he made that way before the smp, and he was so proud of it. he could still trace the cracks from where it broke previously, and even knew where each one came from. and hed always hide behind it when he needed, too; he never was a big fan of just showing people his face, he needed to trust them for that dammit. but he still didn't want to repair it.

so sapnap got him something new. a plain, black facemask, with a blindfold to go with it. it took a minute tor him to learn to see through the blindfold, but it grew to be more comfortable than the mask was. sapnap didnt mention the stitched patterns appearing on the mask; a flame here, some goggles there, maybe a crown with pink and red jewels or a priate hat with a rainbow feather. he simply smiled when he noticed a new one was stitched on, no matter how lopsided.

He goes and just breaks his mask because its something that he feels mixed on. And I think that’s accurate. Because that’s something that represents everything that he isn’t and at the same time, it was his.

Then we got Sapnap helping and giving him a blank facemask to replace it somehow and then we got something that’s his and he goes and adds different patterns on it and oh god.

[toru-oikawas-milkbread]

What it’s Like to Kiss Yūtarō Kindaichi

Notes: If you would like to see my other kissing headcanons posts, follow {this link} to my masterlist page 💕

Just like on my last, I will not tolerate Kindaichi slander on this blog 😌 

<>~<>~<>

- Kindaichi needed a little bit of time, but this doesn’t mean he was a bad kisser. He had to adjust— you were the first person he had ever been with romantically, making you his first everything. First kiss, first love, first hand-holding, first time cuddling with somebody— everything was new and he was doing his best to hold back both his absolute simp side and keep his calm rather than be a flushing mess every time that you winked at him. Once he got the hang of kissing, he did get a lot more confident and actually often times leaves you a flushing mess now

- His lips are amazingly soft. Only in the winter do they have a tendency to start chapping so bad that he needs chapstick. Kindaichi has a bad habit of chewing on his lips when they get chapped, so in order to prevent this he always has to keep chapstick on hand in the midst of winter. It wouldn’t be a necessarily rare or unseen sight for his lips to be picked raw at when it starts to get colder. As for his lip shape, they’re not necessarily thick, but his lips aren’t technically thin. His bottom lip does have more to it than his upper lip does, but they’re both still very predominant

- Usually in the winter when his lips are chapped, he keeps chapstick on them at all times. The only issue is that Kindaichi, especially when he’s working out which he does a lot because of volleyball, has a tendency to lick his lips. It makes both the chapstick pointless and makes his lips more chapped by the end of the day, leaving something for him to absentmindedly bite at. It’s a deadly cycle

- Kindaichi smells fruity. He eats a lot of strawberries and often times there’s a distinct smell of them on his breath. Not in a bad way, but it’s almost sort of endearing. Often times there’s a trace of apple or cinnamon on him. You could swear that he wears some sort of cinnamon spice scented deodorant most days

- Similar to his breath that smells like strawberries, Kindaichi’s lips often times have a strawberry taste to them. He eats quite a bit of fruit, so tasting apples or orange on his lips isn’t something that would be unusual. He also drinks a lot of water which sort of washes the taste away, leaving him tasting like nothing in particular. Unless you kiss him right after he ate a strawberry or took a bite out of an apple, you might not catch the fruity taste and only the lingering aftertaste of it behind the water on his lips

- He does really enjoy kissing, especially when he got comfortable with you and knew what he was doing. While he still gets a bit flustered sometimes, he really likes to try and make you blush when he’s kissing you. He likes to try and tease you even a sliver of how much you tease him, so he wouldn’t exactly pass up the chance to kiss you in a certain way and make the tips of your ears burn. His kisses honestly almost never fail to make you feel some butterflies in your stomach no matter how long you’d been together

- When he’s kissing you, Kindaichi’s eyebrows often furrow inwards on instinct. It’s the way that he’s focusing so hard on kissing you and listening to all the little soft sounds that you make. When he’s starting to feel the effects of the kiss more than usual, his eyebrows can instead lift upwards a little bit rather than furrowing downwards, though the easiest way to know that you’re making him as happy as you make him with a kiss is when he gives little moans into your mouth. He only usually does that when he’s not thinking and it often times leaves the kiss a bit sloppy

- Kindaichi’s kisses are very sweet. They have a tendency to change a lot from: short pecks goodbye, soft kisses to your lips a few times as he whispers his love for you beneath his breath, long and passionate kisses while a movie plays quietly in the background after a long week, soft kisses broken by laughs and quick comments, slow and tired make out sessions late at night in the silent darkness of your shared bedroom when you’re trying to sleep and often times falling asleep together mid-kiss, only to wake up with your faces still close together

- If he’s being honest, not much could really ruin a kiss for him. Getting walked in on would be embarrassing, sure, but not something he couldn’t come back from. You laughing mid-kiss is only something that makes him smile and want to kiss you that much more. Breaking the kiss for a yawn is only an indication that after a few more kisses, it’s time to go to bed. Even morning breath wouldn’t stop him from kissing you in all honesty

- When the two of you are in the midst of a make out session, Kindaichi’s favorite thing to do is to hold your hand and run his fingers through your hair. He likes to give your hand a little squeeze and feel you smile against his lips, he likes to twirl a piece of your hair around his fingers and even have your own buried in his hair. He likes to touch you and feel you close to him in an intimate but innocent way even if his tongue is in your mouth

[jasontoddiefor]

eli. anakin reacting and using dai bendu again in your mttt au. imagine the TEARS.

Anakin felt like a stranger in these rooms. He remembered spending over a decade in them. He was surprised how easy it still was to tell what was out of order. One of his oldest plants was missing. It had belonged to Qui-Gon and he had been so upset when he hadn’t been able to care for it properly after the beginning of the war and it had died on him. Looking back, it had been ridiculous how upset he had been over the loss of one simple plant, but back then it had symbolized so much more. His life had spiraled out fo control, fighting a war he had thought himself ready for but hadn’t been prepared for in the slightest.

He walked over to the kitchen, traced over the marks on the wooden counter. That had been an engineering project gone wrong. He had been at the temple for just a few months then and terrified of what Obi-Wan would do once he noticed the marks.

He had never noticed. Or perhaps he had noticed and just never said a thing because he had been too busy grieving or knew it would only scare his new Padawan.

Obi-Wan shouldn’t have been forced to be stuck with him. Of course, he doubted that any other Master could have kept him away from Palpatine for as long as Obi-Wan had, but still, it hadn’t been fair to him.

“Skyguy?”

He whipped around. For a moment, he heard another voice, a desperate claim, saw a grieving woman standing where there was just a confused child.

“Ahsoka,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” She asked in turn, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m just...” He wasn’t sure what to say. He was just refamiliarizing himself with a place he had once held dear.

He hated being back at the temple. He never wanted to leave again.

He didn’t deserve to walk these halls when it had been him who had painted them in blood. He had thought it had been justified then. They weren’t Padmé, weren’t his unborn child, children, and all the fear of the past years had stacked up, tainted by Palpatine’s words-

“Anakin?”

He blinked. He was still standing in their kitchen, Ahsoka looking at him in concern.

“Just, nothing,” he replied. “I’m sorry, did you want anything?”

“I met Kix on the way here, he told me to tell you to get your ass to the medics again. Something about checking your reflexes?”

Right. That. The medics had put him through all kinds of strange examinations he couldn’t all understand their reasons for doing them, but he figured they had a point.

“I’ll go to them then. Thank you for telling me.”

Ahsoka smiled and saluted mockingly. “No problem.” Then she turned around to walk out of the kitchen again. At the last moment, she stopped and leaned back.

“Oh, one last thing,” Ahsoka said hastily. “I totally forgot because our arrival was so busy and we were stuck in the meetings and then slept the day away and I had exams and we still havem’t finished my room-”

“Ahsoka.”

“Orhma bika, Jaieh,” Ahsoka said quickly, then stepped out of the room.

Anakin felt as if somebody had pulled the rug from under his feet. Ahsoka’s words echoed in his head, painfully familiar and yet- He had forgotten them, had banished every word from his mind, hadn’t spoken a single word until he had held his first conversation with his son, the melodic language sounding like static because of the vocoder. He had hated how it had twisted his tongue, how painful it had been speak.

Ahsoka and he used to tell each other these exact words every time they had reunited. What had started as a joke on that damned mission to Tatooine had become just another thing they did to reassure each other that they were still here.

Orhma bika.

He mouthed the words, not daring to say them out loud. They’d break if he dared to string them together to a song. They wouldn’t ring with honesty, adoration or the warmth they were supposed to carry. 

Orhma bika.

Welcome home.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me-

He couldn’t endure to speak yet.

Translation notes:

- Orhma bika is short for Tamah qa brok vaversi, ji enoah qa mikodail orhma bika which means “Outside it is cold, but we are all warm together here” but basically means “Welcome home”.

- He couldn’t endure to speak yet is a reference to Benah du kat daiel which means Endure to speak of the Force and is the phrase from which “Dai Bendu” is derived.

[pressedinthepages]

Clean

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

also thanks to friends in the Cake Shop for the encouragement, and to @sometimesiwrite for the nudges in the right direction :D

Prompt: *Bathtub*

Relationship: Lambert/Essi

Rating: Teen

Content Warnings: fluff, non-sexual nudity, brief thirsty thoughts, first kiss

Summary: Lambert is in desperate need of a bath, and Essi is more than happy to lend a helping hand.

“Gods above, Lambert, you smell like you just crawled out of the depths of hell.”

Lambert shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not hell. Just a nest of nekkers. Not exactly known for their sweet, floral scents.”

Essi sighed and set her lute down at the foot of her bed. Lambert’s bed lay across the room, yet his was untouched. “Here,” she said, striding to the corner that kept a small wooden tub tucked away, “let me get one of the girls downstairs to fill this for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lambert scowled as he untied the knot keeping his gambeson closed, “I’m used to the shit monster smell.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean that you need to wallow in it all night. C’mon, your poor nostrils must be burning.” Essi spoke quickly and clearly as she turned the tub on its side to roll into the middle of the room.

Lambert took a deep breath (yes, through his mouth, shut up) and stubbornly crossed his arms. “Cool it, bard. We don’t need to waste the coin when I can just rinse off in a river when we get back on the trail tomorrow.”

Essi let the tub slam down onto the floor and matched Lambert in posture, her own arms crossed and her head cocked as she observed him through her very bright eyes. “It’s not a waste of coin, Lambert. We have plenty, you’re just being an ass.”

“This is not a new phenomenon-”

“Dammit, Lambert! Let me do this one thing for you. Please.”

Lambert paused, casting a scrutinizing eye towards Essi. Gods, she was almost shimmering, passion brewing from her very being. And yes, while Lambert may have been one of the most stubborn bastards to have ever walked on the Continent, he was also tired. And Essi seemed sincere, not wanting to do this for him for her own benefit, but actually just...for his.

Weird.

“Fine,” Lambert groused through gritted teeth, “but you make sure that they make it hot enough. If I’m taking a bath, I want the damned full experience.”

Essi nodded with finality and let a gentle smile turn the corners of her lips. “Would you like for me to see if one of them would come help? I can go and give you some privacy, if you’d like-”

Lambert sputtered as he watched Essi slide her shoes on. “N-no. Don’t do that.”

Essi shrugged, “Alright. You said you wanted the ‘full experience’ which, for men, usually involves a woman’s hand.”

“Women don’t typically take kindly to Witchers in their tubs,” Essi scowled at Lambert’s words. “Besides, I just need to get clean. I don’t need all the fancy stuff.”

Essi peered over at him with an odd look on her face. Lambert couldn’t really place it. Not pity, not amusement, nor abashedness. Just...odd. “Whatever you say, Lambert. Would you still like some time for yourself? I really don’t mind stepping ou-”

“Stay. I don’t wanna kick you out. Besides, it’s cold out. You should keep by the fire.” Lambert...wasn’t really sure where all that came from, but he could tell that it wasn’t the answer that Essi was expecting either.

Essi looked over her shoulder to him as she set her hand on the doorknob. “Alright, Lambert. I’ll see what I can round up for you.”

Lambert could hear her feet bounce down the steps towards the tavern below. He sighed to himself and continued on with removing the outer layers of his armor. The gambeson was first to hit the floor, left to the side so that he could properly clean it later. Yeah, he thought as he raised his arms above his head and caught a whiff of himself, maybe I did need that bath.

He slipped off his gloves next, flexing his newly freed fingers a bit as he threw the gloves to the floor. The boots were toed off at the door and his potions belt was set next to them. He was just contemplating the ties on his trousers when he heard approaching footsteps with a familiar cadence.

Essi knocked before she entered, as she always did whenever the two of them traveled together. Lambert never really understood it, but he also appreciated it nonetheless. The Path was not made with privacy in mind, so he cherished every little bit that he could get. He called her in and she kept the door propped open behind her.

“The innkeeper’s daughter will be up in a few moments with the water, she’s got it heating up now.” Lambert kinda lost himself in the high pink planes of her cheeks and the glow behind her crystalline eyes before the words registered in his brain.

Lambert nodded and stepped back so that Essi could set an armful of towels down on her bed and rifle through her pack. She emerged with a handful of little glass bottles and a soft scrap cloth. He quirked a brow and tried to look over just what she had snuck in here. “What’s all of that?”

Essi chuckled and glanced back over to him. “What does it look like? You said ‘full experience,’ so I brought it!”

Lambert shook his head and smirked, “I also said you didn’t need to worry about all of that. Besides, I don’t do all of the smelly soaps, it’s too much for my no-”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I chose these. Here,” Essi uncorked a small bottle and held it at arm’s length, “try this one.”

Lambert stepped forward and leaned down, just barely sniffing the contents of the bottle, fully prepared for an assault on his senses. He furrowed his brow and inhaled deeper, only just barely catching a trace of earthy spices on the tail end of the air. “That’s...not too bad. Where did you find this?”

Essi smiled wide and turned back to the other glasses on her bed. “You know, I don’t spend all of my time with Witchers. I have a friend back in Oxenfurt who is an alchemist, and they like to make soaps and such. I asked if they had anything that might not be too aggressive for your nose, and they didn’t. But they did have a few ideas, so they finished up this batch by the last time I stopped in. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to give them to you, and now seemed like a good enough time as any, and-”

Lambert shook his head and held out his hand, palm up. Essi stopped rambling and carefully set the assortment of bottles into his grasp. “Essi. I...I can’t pay you back for this, not right now. I can’t just drop coin on this kind of stuff-”

“You don’t have to pay me back, Lambert. It’s a gift. One that you very much deserve.”

Lambert felt something weird rising up in his chest and tug behind his stomach. “I-hmpf. Thank you, Essi. It...it means a lot that you would think of something like this for me.”

Essi reached out and placed her hand gently on Lambert’s arm. “Of course. You’ll have to tell me what you think of them, and I can pass the message back to my friend for their next batch.”

Lambert ran his thumb back and forth over the smooth glass in his hand. He could feel the warmth of Essi’s skin radiate from her palm and through his linen shirt, and he wanted so desperately to be able to find the words to thank her properly. “Essi, I-”

A knock on the door startled them both and Lambert cursed himself for getting so caught up that he didn’t even hear the poor girl climbing the stairs. He pulled open the door and stepped aside for her to clamber into the room with a large pot. She upended it into the tub, letting steaming water slosh around and immediately fill the air with the thickness.

“Anything else that I can help you with?” The young woman asked kindly, crossing her hands in front of her and looking up at Lambert. He shook his head and let her out of the room, closing and bolting the door behind her.

Essi smoothed her hands down her trousers as she looked Lambert up and down. He felt her gaze rover over his skin and felt a not-unwelcome prickle at the back of his neck. “Well, are you gonna bathe, or were you wanting to just get in like that and call your laundry done?”

Lambert actually let out a bark of laughter at that one, his heart warming when he heard Essi laughing a bit herself. “No, not gonna waste this hot water on my laundry. You mind if I go ahead then?”

Essi shook her head and took the bottles back out of his hand. “Go on, it’s not like I’ve never seen a naked man.”

Lambert felt the ghost of her fingers across his palm before he reached up behind his neck to grab onto the collar of his undershirt and lift it over his head. He wrinkled his nose as he chucked it to the side, apparently now making a pile for his laundry too. While Lambert wasn’t exactly ashamed of his body, he knew that it could be...distressing for humans. Scars and burns decorated his skin and, while he was leaner than his other Wolves, he still had muscles that shifted and danced as he moved that were never really paid attention to by others. He turned away for Essi and untied his trousers before pushing them down his thighs, and while he may have caught her heart beating a bit quicker than before, it was probably just his mind.

Lambert kicked away the trousers to rest with his shirt and carefully covered his manhood with his hand before he turned back around. As he faced Essi once more, he watched in real time as her eyes drank in his body, lines crawling up and down and around, making his head swim with the sudden feeling of being seen. Not necessarily just looked at, but something more, something deeper. Something he didn’t have a name for.

Essi blinked a few times and swallowed thickly before meeting Lambert’s eyes from beneath the curl of her bangs. “Well...hmm. You uh, you should go ahead and hop in before it gets too cold.”

Lambert caught the flush of her cheeks and how her fingers sort of fidgeted at her sides, drawing his attention away from her eyes. Lambert tried to balance carefully as he stepped into the tub, one arm still occupied with keeping himself covered from Essi’s piercing gaze. Lambert’s foot broke the surface of the bath and he felt the heat crawl up beneath his skin as he fully stepped in. The water would have been scalding to a human, but to Lambert? Oh, hot fucking water was pure bliss.

He shuffled a bit as he sat down into the tub, finally finding a position with his head leaning back on the rim and his knees bent and poking above the surface of the water. He sighed as his muscles relaxed into the heat, and he closed his eyes and just let his mind quiet for a few moments. Though, he could hear Essi fiddling with something, her hands as restless as her mind, it seemed.

“Essi?”

“Hmm?” Lambert smiled a bit and peeked open one eye when he heard her voice, clearly a bit caught off guard. Her hum had been a little higher than normal, and a bit too quick.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I could use a hand with washing my hair-”

“Oh!” Essi jumped up and clambered for the array of bottles that she had spread back out on the bed. “I don’t mind at all, if you’re sure…”

Lambert hummed his assent and closed his eyes once more, listening to Essi patter about the room for a moment before coming to rest behind him. He heard a stool be set down and the gentle shifting of fabric as she sat atop it. “Right then,” she murmured, keeping her voice low and soft, “should I use that one soap I showed you, or a different one?”

Lambert shrugged as he sat up, his body warm and loose from the bath. “Maybe do that one for my hair, and I can try a different one for the rest of me?”

Lambert ducked under the water and ran his hands through his hair, rubbing down his face and along his jaw as he resurfaced. He felt the rivers of water trail down his spine and heard the telltale pacing of Essi’s heart fluttering in her chest.

He smirked as he chanced a glance over his shoulder to her. “Gonna just stare at my back all day?”

Essi, to her credit, hesitated for only half a heartbeat, just enough for Lambert to know that he had, in fact, caught her doing just that. She then huffed good-naturedly and reached out for his shoulders. “Well, if I could reach you, that would be ideal.”

Lambert hummed as he leaned and felt her hands guide him by the shoulders back to resting at the edge of the bath. He heard her take a deep breath, one that he knew was to steel the nerves. He found himself wanting to do the same, but for his own.

“Comfortable?” Essi murmured, her hands still resting lightly on the junction between Lambert’s neck and shoulders.

“Mhm,” Lambert nodded and let his eyes close. He could feel the pulse of Essi’s blood swirl beneath her fingertips, and the huffs of her breath ghost over his skin. The warm water soothed his muscles and led him down into a pseudo-meditative state, still aware of the world around him, but able to focus in on little bits of sensation as he wished.

He felt Essi’s hands leave him as she reached for one of the bottles at her side. As she pulled out the stopper, Lambert caught another whiff of the same scent from earlier. That dark, musty, earthy scent, raindrops pillowed on moss. It was accompanied now by honey and verbena, the light air wafting down from the thick golden tendrils of Essi’s hair.

Essi poured a dollop of soap into her hand and set the bottle back onto the floor before lathering her hands together. “Alright, I’ll start with your hair. Still good?”

“Yeah, fine,” Lambert hummed as he felt her fingers drag up along his scalp. He just barely held back a moan from escaping his throat as she lightly scratched back and forth through his hair, working the soap into soft, fragrant bubbles that trailed down over his forehead.

Essi began to hum, low and quiet, just barely a sound trailing from her lips. It lilted and bounced along the air with no clear direction, no endgame. Just...to be. She watched Lambert’s shoulders relax, the line of his spine dipping down further into the water and the dark hairs on his chest catching suds as they fell from the damp ends of his hair.

Once his hair was properly scrubbed, the scruff that it was, Essi let her hands follow the trail of suds down his neck to his shoulders, massaging tight and tired muscles as she went. Lambert did not succeed in holding back the groan that creaked from his throat as he crumpled slightly.

“Want to pick another one of the soaps, or should I pick for you?” Essi murmured, still smoothing her hands gently back and forth along the line of his shoulders, squeezing the muscles beneath with every pass.

Lambert hummed and shifted in the bath, the water sloshing around as he adjusted his hips. “You can pick. I trust you.”

Essi smiled as she turned to the little collection of bottles by her foot, grabbing a little bottle scented with lemongrass and sage, dabbing a small pool into the palm of her hand and working up a lather, spreading it along his arms and onto the top of his chest. She paused when she realized she wasn’t certain just how much more she could cover without… well, crossing some lines they’d never really discussed. They were friends, had become quite close in their travels. Essi knew that Lambert trusted her, just as she did in return. But some things just...hadn’t been addressed between them.

Essi scooted around so she was face to face with Lambert and washed down the line of his arm, working the suds and watching his chest rise and fall with long, deep breaths. “Alright...legs next?”

Lambert peeked open an eye, glancing around as if he were worried they’d be caught doing something inappropriate. He cleared his throat and closed his eye once more. “Y-yeah. Yeah sure. Fine.”

“Are you sure? I could not if you’d rather—”

Lambert limply waved his hand, “Nah, you’re fine. Go for it.”

Essi nodded and got to work, spreading the lather up and down his legs, massaging his feet and calves, working up to the tender muscles just above his knees.

“Oi!” He jerked away suddenly and Essi withdrew, worrying she’d accidentally hit on a tender scar or an injury from earlier. To her relief and amusement, Lambert smirked, “Tickles.”

“Sorry,” Essi snickered, “want me to move elsewhere?”

“Nah, you’re fine. Just uh-just don’t be too light there or else you may wind up with my foot to your face. Not on purpose mind you, but-”

“Alright, alright,” Essi laughed, kneading her thumbs more deeply into the skin of his thigh. Lambert’s head thunked back against the rim of the tub.

“Gods, woman. You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Lambert sighed as he wiped his hand down along the line of his jaw.

Essi shook her head with a snicker, “Oh please Lambert. Don’t even start with m-”

“You and I both know that I would absolutely not be in a warm bath with a very pretty woman washing me just the way I like if not for you weaseling your way into my Path.” Lambert once again wasn’t sure where that came from, but Gods know it was true. Every little bit.

Essi’s cheeks went bright red, “Nonsense, Lambert. I never weasel anywhere, and certainly not onto the path. But I’ll take the credit all the same for being pretty and stubborn.”

Lambert hummed and waved his hand around dramatically. “Bah, semantics. You know how I hate when you get caught up in word play-”

Essi scoffed with a great smile on her face, “Oh, don’t you dare lie to me! You love my word play, you and that sharp mind of yours. Admit it, you’d be bored to death otherwise.”

“Someone’s taking a lot of credit this evening. Never mind the nest of fuckin’ ogroids I just destroyed so an entire village could resettle.” Lambert opened his eyes and sat up, letting his leg fall back into the water. He braced his hands on either side of the tub and-oh fuck, Essi was now much closer than anticipated.

Lambert watched her throat bob as she licked her lips and swallowed, her eyes darting quickly down to his mouth and back up once more. They sat frozen like that for a moment, a hair’s breadth away from pushing into uncharted territory.

Essi cleared her throat and looked up at the suds threatening to drip down into Lambert’s eyes. “Perhaps you should rinse, then I can make sure that everything’s clean?”

“Uh… yeah-yeah, sure.” Lambert plunged his head under the water and was grateful for a moments’ grace from whatever the fuck that was. He emerged and pinched the water clear from his nose, scrubbing at his hair and blinking profusely—he hated going under water.

Essi watched him scrub away the last remaining drops of water from his beard and fucking shit why-

“Here,” she said, reaching out (Essi, keep it together. What exactly do you think you’re doing here-) “Let me scrub your chest one last time. Just to be sure.”

“Ah, it’s okay, you really don’t have to-”

“Do you not want me t-”

“No! No, I mean if you want… I just don’t want you to feel like you have to if-”

“I don’t mind!”

“It is… nice. I mean, your hands are—” Fuckingshitfuck “—you’re good at this,” Lambert gestured broadly, hoping to alleviate the feeling of having his entire foot in his mouth. Lambert shifted forward so that Essi wouldn’t have to bend and reach quite so far, painfully aware of her hand slightly outstretched and reaching for him.

Essi smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, I think. You’re quite good with semantics, though you seem to be running in circles tonight.”

Lambert huffed good-naturedly as he felt Essi’s hands, still warm and soapy, smooth over the broad plane of his chest. Essi hummed appreciatively as she worked the soap into Lambert’s skin, working circles into the hair dusted across the toned muscle. A smile pulled at her lips, her cheeks rosy with the still-hot water and the kind atmosphere that she simply radiated.

“What is it, songbird?” Lambert couldn’t help the little smile that graced his own face while Essi kept her eyes trained steadily on her own hands on his chest.

“I-well. I’ve always loved a man with some good hair on his chest.”

Lambert’s heart quickened from it’s normally slow pace as he felt Essi’s hand still on his chest, and he looked up into her soft blue eyes. She leaned in, just barely a tilt of her head, the always troublesome curl of golden hair falling down into her eye. Lambert reached up, his hand dripping with water, and gently pushed the curl back behind her ear, his fingers glancing over the impossibly soft skin of her cheek.

Essi closed her eyes and let herself hope, just for a moment, that she knew where this was going. She heard Lambert sigh and she blinked up, finding him closing the distance between her with a quiet, “Oh, what the hell.”

Their lips met with Essi’s hands still on Lambert’s chest and his hands in her hair. It was nothing more than a simple peck at first, a sweet push into unknown waters. But that didn’t last long, for she felt Lambert’s hands tighten in her hair and pull her close, licking insistently at the seam of her mouth.

She granted him access with a gasp, working her tongue with his and running her fingers down and around his chest, her fingers teasing the water line. Lambert tasted of woodsmoke and spice and cherries and Essi’s head swam as he kissed her intensely. Gods, Lambert kissed her like she imagined soldiers coming home from the war kissed their wives: methodical, thorough, devouring her soul with teeth and tongue and his hands grasping onto her so tightly that it could’ve hurt if he hadn’t keened lowly into her mouth.

Lambert shifted back, breaking apart from Essi for a gasp of air. She followed him though, pressing their lips back together and clambering into the bathtub, settling in his lap. He laughed into her mouth and settled his hands on her waist, “Essi, what the fuck? You’re gonna get all we-”

“Oh shut up and kiss me again.” Essi ran her fingers through Lambert’s hair as she leaned down, kissing up his jaw and meeting his lips once more.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

[s-trawberryv-eins]

Daisy

NOT MY GIF

Daisy

Summary: Daisies on the beach, daisies in his bed. She didn’t really have much business whisking him away like that. But thank the gods she did.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swearing, shitty writing, everything tbh. Gonna fuck ur feels up boo. Please don’t read if you’re under 18. I don’t want to deal with the consequences. 

Bucky x fem!reader

A/N: This is my entry for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​s writing challenge! My prompt was Mariners Apartment Complex by Lana Del Rey.

Word count: 3725

Reader Insert Masterlist

-

And who I’ve been is with you on these beaches

Your Venice bitch, your die-hard, your weakness

Maybe I could save you from your sins

Sandridge beach seemed like the perfect place to go. She needed the beach, said he did too. He never argued. Part of him thought this trip, holiday, whatever it was, was more for her than for him. It didn’t matter. He watched her a lot. He’d never noticed her before, not really. Not in any way other than the fact that she always smelled like daisies. Not in any way that didn’t require a gun or the room she came from.

Sitting out in the salty air, on something she’d called a Sarong, he swore he could count the amount of words they’d exchanged on two hands.

“Don’t know you very well. Not really. Who are you?”

“Who do you want me to be?”

Silence.

“Here on these beaches, I’m whoever you need me to be.”

-

“We’re kinda similar, don’t you think?” Smiles were sweet and sickly and she’d look at it forever if she could.

“If you think that’s the case, you’re worse off than I thought, Sarge.”

-

“I’m taking him someplace far. It’ll be good for him.”

“How would you know what’s good for him?”

“You’re not the only person he talks to, Stevie.”

So they left. She hadn’t looked back much since.

-

“Stop calling, Stevie. I mean it.” Pointy pink acrylics toss the phone on the bed where it lay abandoned, unwanted and imposing. A hindrance to healing, she’d called it.

“Darling, we’re going to the market.”

“The crowds, I don’t know.”

“You lose your way, just take my hand.”

“You smell like daisies.”

Daisies wherever she went.

-

I’m the board, the lightening, the thunder

Kind of girl who’s gonna make you wonder

Who you are and who you’ve been

“It’s important.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Shut up. Yes, it is.”

“Fine. I’ll humour you. Why is it important?”

“Because it is, Barnes. I see the way you look at yourself. List three things you like about yourself by the end of the day and tomorrow I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Stop acting like it then.”

A promise. To him, to Steve, to herself. But that’s not why she did it. She made the promise because he deserved it. She kept the promise because he deserved it. And maybe she did, too. Because if she could do right by just one person on this god forsaken planet, maybe she’d sleep better at night. But the fear that that notion reduced her actions to nothing more than a way to clear her own name kept her up anyway.

“I can’t do three.”

“One, then. Tell me one thing you like about yourself right now.”

He sucked in a breath and she saw any trace of comfort evaporate from his body. Torment gripped him silently, an image of every horrible thing he’d ever done flashing in his brain. A minute had passed and doubt pushed its way through her mind, trying to find somewhere comfortable to settle and tell her she’s making the man’s life worse.

“The colour of my eyes. I like the colour of my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes at the victory smile that appeared on her face.

“So do I.”

-

She wandered often. He followed, never straying from her side. After several weeks, he’d come to realise that she wandered and then she wandered. It dawned on him one sunny morning that she needed help too. She’d told him that he’d taken her sadness out of context, but he never understood her meaning. He followed anyway, knowing that she’d come back to him later on, when she was ready.

But this time, it was almost dark before she did. The sand beneath her feet grew cold and her heart threatened to stop beating as her breathing grew frantic. Her hair whipped around her face in the wind and despite how hard she wracked her brain she could not for the life in her remember where she’d left the bag with the fresh fruit in for tomorrows breakfast.

“Bucky?”

“Right here.”

And he was. Bag in hand, there he was.

“It’s okay. Don’t ever have to look too far. Right where you are, that’s where I am.”

And for the first time, he led, and she followed.

-

Catch a wave and take in the sweetness

You want this, you need this

Are you ready for it?

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Yes. Have you?”

“Yes.”

Short and awkward and tight-lipped. Sunglasses pushed up into her sea salt laced hair, lips damp with iced tea and chap stick.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was an idiot-“

“You’re right, you are an idiot.”

“I’m tryna apologise here.”

“Sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m still adapting and you’re very persistent and you caught me at a bad time.”

“Okay.”

She knew he was waiting for more, but her head was a mess. Half the time she thought this whole thing was a mistake and that none of this was even remotely her business and nobody wanted her or her input.

“It’s hard for me too, you know. I sorta went into this blind, in case you hadn’t realised. I know I’m pushy and I mess up. I’m sorry, too.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke but he raced to stop them. Holding her face in his hands, he took her in. Sunkissed cheeks, the freckles that the sun had brought out dancing across her nose, shining eyes and he just wanted to take the whole morning and throw it somewhere far where she’d never think of it and it couldn’t hurt her. Thumbs brushed the wet marks away and she tilted her head up and oh-

Her kiss tore his heart apart in the sweetest way, and if this was all he’d ever feel he’d happily surrender himself to it. It occurred to him that her lips were far more important than oxygen and he let his lungs burn, not caring for a moment that the pain was increasing with every second of pleasure. Soft and sweet and the taste of peaches and salt and when she pulled away, he felt colder than he ever had.

“Swim with me?”

-

You’re lost at sea

Then I’ll command your boat to me again

Twice he’d tried to leave.

The first time; a few weeks in.

Fear. The thunder came as he slammed the door, the lightening as his bike peeled away in the darkness. The rain came when he returned, angry and guilty and full to the brim with apologies, sodden and dripping. Thunder again at the door, lightening as they fucked each other rough on the carpet, not making it all the way up the stairs.

The second time; an angel had died, and God mourned violently.

“You want to control everything! You’re a control freak!”

“I am trying to help you for crying out LOUD!”

“I don’t want your help! I NEVER asked for it! YOU brought me here. YOU decided you could fix me!”

“YOU’RE NOT BROK-“

“SHUT. UP. YOU DID THIS. I’M DONE.”

As God wept, so did she.

-

He’d returned under the cover of the night, creeping in through his bedroom window despite knowing she’d known of his every move since he left her. She hadn’t tried to hide it. She’d ask him why he came home eventually, but he didn’t know when.

He didn’t know why he came home.

Home?

Is that what this is?

More daisies.

The smell haunted him, only strengthening as he buried his head into his pillow.

Daisies in his pillow.

A girl in his bed.

She’d been in his bed?

Of course she’d been in his bed.

Where else would she go?

“You lose your way, just take my hand.”

Why’d he leave again?

-

It took her two days to speak to him again.

“Spoke to Steve. If you’re serious about leaving, he can come to pick your stuff up tomorrow.” He bled and he bled. He bled until he found the strength to take a stand.

“Tell him to piss off.”

She appreciated the sentiment but conveyed the message to Steve slightly differently.

-

Even in the dark I feel your resistance

You can see my heart burning in the distance

Restless nights or horror filled sleep; the former was preferable, but God were they long. Trained feet took him away, landing outside her door. Then again to her bedside. The bed dipped with the extra weight, but she knew he was there long before he climbed in beside her.

Fingers finding each other in the dark, tracing and just barely touching. The gap closed and his chest was against her back and before he could think his lips were on her neck and the sigh that fell from her lips tore his heart in two. She was good at that.

Her body moved from his and ice bloomed in his chest as the distance grew. As his walls crept back up, she caught his face in her hands, setting his gaze on her before peeling her clothes off. Watching as she peeled off her clothes, he dared not move an inch.

How could when all he could smell was daisies and slick and heat? Drunk off nothing at all, it burned in his blood and threatened to have him on his knees for the rest of time. Even in the dark his adapted eyes could see the chill on her skin from the sudden exposure, the way she made no attempt to hide herself from his view.

Undressing her, undressing him, lips ghosting over his skin, brushing every muscle and scar as he softened and hardened underneath her in equal measure. She took him in her hand and he cursed before pulling her in, his nose buried in her neck and daisies and as he moved to set himself on her lips she sank down, slow and damp, surrounding him and filling herself entirely. The noise that released itself from his throat would forever ring in her ears and she fought for control over her own body.

His hands lay at his side and god they itched to be everywhere else but he wasn’t entirely sure what was allowed and what wasn’t. Of course, she read his mind and worked to banish his resistance as she worked him so sweet that he knew nobody that came before came close.

They’d fucked before, just once. Messy and rough and quick. This was different in every way.

Soft hands on softer skin, hips feather light as she lifted up only to sink back down again earning a string of whispered curses from the soldiers lips. Whimpers and moans and everything hushed and finally, finally he found the courage to move his hands slowly up her thighs, fingers barely touching her skin until she moved at just the right angle and suddenly the grip on her waist was almost bruising as his back arched up and he sounded so perfectly sinful.

Pushing impossibly deeper inside his eyes screwed shut, and he knew it was an action he’d forever regret as he missed the look of pure sin on her face as she hit her high, too busy experiencing his own to watch. He’d cling to the sounds she made in the meantime.

Climbing away with a soft gasp, slick and mess trickling down her thighs, she headed towards the door and his heart began to slip. The sudden thunder of water against tile was too loud in his head and panic rose from the remnants of their shared moment when –

“You coming?”

He’d never been up and in the shower so quickly in his life.

-

They mistook my kindness for weakness

I fucked up, I know that, but Jesus

Can’t a girl just do the best she can?

“When are you coming home? Can we come and visit? It’s been three months.”

“Fine. I’ll see what he’d prefer, he’s kinda…protective over this place. We miss you Stevie, I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Love you, kid. Both of you.”

-

They’d arrived at noon. Sam, Steve and Natasha. Steve insisted on making lunch; nobody protested. Three months apart made no difference. Old habits quickly resurfaced and she knew Bucky felt at home like this. It showed in the soft crinkles around his blue, blue eyes.

The early afternoon was spent catching up, five bodies huddled in around each other, the girls eager to be close after so long apart. Stories of the others were told fondly, and an entirely foreign homesickness settled in.

“Bucky, can we go to the beach?”

Soft eyes met bright ones, and he knew he couldn’t say no.

Not that he’d ever really wanted to.  

The girl beamed down at him, daisies on her skin and the sun in her smile.

He knew he’d taken too long to answer when he saw Sam smirk out of the corner of his eye.

-

The girls lay on the sand, towels spread out underneath warm skin, as the boys had abandoned them to wander to town. As they winded through the markets, enjoying the late afternoon sun, curiosity seemed to get the best of Sam, despite the warning he’d received from Steve before they arrived.

“So how are things? With you and her?”

“Things are good. It can be a little difficult sometimes, it just being the two of us, but we get through it.”

“Are we really gonna do this man?”

“Drop it.”

“She’s telling Nat as we speak, ya know?”

He’d never win. Truthfully, he wasn’t interested in winning this one. He hadn’t been fighting very hard to begin with.

“It’s good, Sam. It’s all so good.”

“All of it?”

“I’m done. I don’t know how else to say it but she’s it for me, man.”

There was a moment of silence and a look exchanged between Sam and Steve. It didn’t come as a surprise, not really.

He’d tell them one day.

He’d start from the beginning and he’d tell them everything she was.

But not yet.

-

“Since when does Bucky cook?”

“Turns out we were letting him get away with far too much back at the compound. He’s fairly talented.”

Natasha smiled brightly, happy to be beside her friend once more.

“He’s different. Lighter.”

“It took a while. We didn’t talk much at first. But he let me help him. He helps me too, more than he knows I think.”

She didn’t need to say much for Natasha to understand. Reading between the lines and requiring little to no explanation of what she could see. One question rang through her head, however.

“And when you come home? What then?”

A harsh inhale and a furrowed brow and a flash of denial and the girl admitted that she truly and honestly did not know. And her heart was breaking.

-

The frown on her face as she watched her friends drive off triggered a wave of guilt to pour through him like a flash flood. She’d left her home for him; her friends, her family. For him.

“Natasha was asking questions.”

Hm?

“A lot of them.”

Oh. They were talking?

“I couldn’t answer most of them.”

Why wouldn’t she meet his eyes?

“What uh…what kinda stuff?”

“One sorta stuck out. What happens when we go home?”

He didn’t have an answer. He stayed quiet. A mistake, he’d learn.

“I’m going for a walk. Don’t wait up.”

-

An hour had passed and despite the nausea gripping her stomach, she headed back to the house. The sand between her toes was cooler now the sun was gone, and although it wasn’t cold she couldn’t help the chill that she felt in apprehension of seeing him.

Or maybe she wouldn’t see him.

With every passing minute it became harder to decide which she’d prefer.

Maybe he listened when she said not to wait up.

“It’s been almost two hours.”

Relief and dread filled her bones in equal measure when his voice reached her ears.

“I figured you’d be half an hour. You didn’t even take your phone!”

“I’m sorry, Bucky. Needed to clear my head a bit.”

“Did it work?”

A pause.

“No.”

Another pause.

A stretch of silence.

The loudest she’d ever lived through.

“This is it, then?”

So vague. Why did he have to be so vague? There were a thousand possible ‘it’s and her heart begged to know how the next 5 minutes would play out before they did. The pain in her throat rapidly became unbearable and the girl cursed the Gods for having her fall so irrevocobly for the man she promised nothing but help to.

How cruel of her, to offer herself as a guide and a shoulder and a light and then to do something as selfish as love him.

Because she did.

She loved him.

She loved him and-

“I love you.”

And he loved her.

A sob tore from her throat and he was by her side a second later and taking the weight of her body when she couldn’t anymore. Tears fell without pause and her cries rang out and pierced his heart like a sharpened blade.

Hands crept around her body and lifted her from the ground before heading inside the house.

Their home.

Is this home?

Wrapping her hands around his neck, she buried herself within him, desperate to feel the words he uttered so candidly outside. As the door fell shut behind them, she wriggled free from his hold and landed clumsily on her feet. A cloud of uncertainty gathered above them and as she screwed her eyes shut she fought to banish it.

“Say it again, Bucky.”

There was no hesitation; only a peace in his voice that felt foreign.

“I love you.”

“Take me upstairs, Bucky.”

-

Catch a wave and take in the sweetness

You want this, you need this

Are you ready for it?

It was his turn now; to give her what she gave him that night in the dark. And again in the shower afterwards. So as he lay her on the bed, on his bed, he knew he wouldn’t rest until she knew how deeply his love for her ran.

Flicking the light on, he thought back to their last time and made sure to correct every mistake; he wanted to see her this time, to see her properly and entirely and witness everything that she was.

Lips latched onto the flesh of her neck, feather-light kisses and soft flicks of his tongue over the bruises he made, the bruises she’d come to adore as much as she did him. Staying quiet was both useless and entirely unwanted, so the girl didn’t bother catch the whimper that fell from her lips as his hands wandered underneath her dress, fingers grazing the skin of her thighs.

They undressed quickly and seemed to move in sync. She lay on the bed all but encased within the man above her and she savoured it, locking the feeling of him so close into her memory. Pausing his assault on her skin, he took her in; pupils blown and lips swollen, breath heavy and shallow and a crease in her brow that deepened as she whimpered underneath his touch.

His eyes never left her, taking in everything she’d give him as he worked her with his fingers. Slick and warm and trickling with the heat that he pulled from her body, it didn’t take long for her to unravel entirely underneath him and he saw everything. The way she bit her lip to quieten her moans and the way she grabbed herself when his fingertips grazed just the right spot and the way her mouth fell open in silent ecstasy as she hit her high.

Leaving her without a minute to recover he sank himself into her, full and hot. She tried and tried to bring him closer, burying her face in his neck as he brought himself into her time and again. Crying out as her teeth bit down on his skin, he snapped and oh harder, please and he obliged happily because she was so far gone and the noises she made were delicious and all for him.

Sweat slicked bodies gripped each other tightly, closer she begged and his body answered for him. Need clouded his vision and he slowed his movements and how she sang for him. Pressing hot kisses to her fevered skin, he felt her approach and eyes on me baby, please as she tightened, body rigid and the wet heat flowing between them and oh, gods.

Gasping for breath, her grip on the man loosened and she relaxed into the plush pillows that surrounded her body. Eyes met again and it burned her with a warmth that had her losing her breath once more and he didn’t waste a second.

It was unforgiving and filthy and bruising and so wet and she tried to hold on, but when she felt his hips stutter against her own she lost the fight. They gave everything their bodies had, emptying within and around the other with no care for the volume of their moans and whimpers.

He collapsed next to her and sleep beckoned her relentlessly, but-

“Baby, we can’t sleep like this.”

“Mm why not Buck?”

“We’re messy. A shower and then we can sleep in the other bed, okay?”

“Suppose so Buck.”

-

A freshly brewed pot of tea sat on the windowsill next to her as she watched the sun climb higher in its efforts west. Hair in a loose braid, decorated prettily with a daisy she’d picked the day prior. Last night’s lovemaking still evident by the soft glow of her skin and he knew he was looking at everything he’d ever needed.

“Bucky?”

She didn’t look at him, instead kept her gaze fixed on the sand and the sun and the water and the clouds.

“Yeah?”

It was nonchalant, the way she said it. Twirling a bunch of dying daisies between her fingers, gaze still fixed on the horizon.

“Can we go home?”

 -

You want this, you need this

Are you ready for it?

[creative-frequency]

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 03

Word count: 2945 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: First visit to Zeffo. Who am I kidding it’s just straight to lovers at this point. Let’s forget the friends first part. Mild angst, (partial) canon-rewrite. Notes: I struggled with the last scene, writing it over and over and editing it so many times but I think it finally (hopefully) conveys what I want now. Tagged some people either cause you asked for it or cause I thought you’d enjoy this. Lmk if you want to be tagged or not!

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 03

“Ah, Zeffo. My favorite place,” Greez says dreamily and relaxes in his pilot’s chair.

The Mantis takes off from Bogano soil and you sit down, pretending to be focused on the map hovering on the holotable. Cal sits on the other side, equally preoccupied. You try not to look at him while knowing, feeling, that he’s definitely taking glances at you. BD-1 hops over to the holotable to have a better look at the planet you’re heading to.

Before you can think of anything to say to Cal, Greez has a story to tell.

“When this is all over, I think it’ll be a time to settle down, you know?” he continues, “Fall in love, start a family.” He sounds like Zeffo is exactly the planet he wants to spend his retirement days on.

You bite your lip and see how confused Cal is trying to make sense of the Latero. Greez is in one of those moods again.

“Love? You?” Cere voices out in bafflement.

“Yeah? You think a guy like me doesn’t know love?” Greez retorts slightly dejected.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” Cere says, smiling.

You have to hide your grin behind your hand. Cere hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Greez’s adventures because she didn’t join you on that cantina trip on Tatooine. Cal gets up to lean to the cockpit doorway to hear better and even BD-1 turns around to listen and tilts his head.

Greez told you the story before after one too many and some bad situational judgment. There was someone he called the Baroness. You know it’s a fake name since she is still in politics. Wouldn’t have been much work in your previous occupation to dig out who the lady was, but you respect Greez’s privacy – despite your burning curiosity.

As Greez described it, they were deeply in love but eventually her career came between them, driving the lovers apart. Greez played it out as his wanderlust getting in the way but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the reason was really. You also suspect she played an important role in his decision to, if not quit, then at least gamble less. But those were thoughts you would take with you to the grave.

“Let me tell ya. It’s the best, but a lot of work. It needs admiration, devotion, attraction, and respect,” Greez explains with a straight face.

Cal turns to silently ask you is he being serious, but you shake your head fervently.

Cere is surprised by the pilot’s words. “Greez, that’s actually very insightful.”

“Yeah, well. It comes with experience. You can’t look this good and not steal a few hearts.” He must look impossibly complacent. Probably the same as when Cere complements his cooking.

“I bet,” Cere chuckles.

Cal turns to shoot another confused look at you, unsure whether to laugh or offer his sympathies to Greez. He points at the pilot with his thumb and mouths “what’s with him?” to you.

Deeming it best to just bite your lip harder, you tap the seat next to you. Hopefully the pilot will stop talking and focus on flying. It’s best if Greez doesn’t realize you’re pulling faces behind his back, or hear the Jedi questioning his mental well-being.

Cal smiles at your invitational gesture and an unexpected delight splashes inside you.

Before he sits down – closer than you anticipated – you scan him with an inconspicuous measuring look. He seems to be holding up alright considering all things. If stories about Greez’s love life are what get him to relax, so be it.

“Is he always so…” Cal starts quietly but can’t find the word he’s looking for. BD-1 tilts his head. Luckily Greez can’t see the droid on the sofa, again.

“Yes,” you still reply deftly.

You both chuckle as silently as humanely possible, shoulders shaking. You end up realizing you’re staring at Cal’s face, tracing the freckles with your eyes and how they move with his inaudible laughter. It’s the umpteenth time you catch yourself doing that and your quickened pulse gets harder to ignore.

Greez informs you to sit down because you’re about to make the jump to hyperspace. It throws you off enough to calm down. He seems to be done with talking about his love life, for now.

“Have you ever been to Zeffo before?” Cal asks.

You clear your throat to get rid of the last ripples of the tender sensation in your stomach. In the back of your mind you pin the feelings on the jump into hyperspace.

“I haven’t actually. Have you?”

“Nope.” Cal leans back and you follow his line of sight to the holomap of Zeffo.

The hologram of the planet is mostly covered in deep blue and dark green. The white-covered heaps signal snow-tipped mountains and while you’re definitely not a fan of snow, you haven’t seen it in a long time. Zeffo is apparently known for its strong winds and as testimony to that, several huge cloud vortexes cover the map. For once, you’re glad that you don’t have to fly.

“You must be always visiting new places,” Cal says and there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. BD-1 makes a comforting boop. Cal has been stuck on Bracca for years – partly because of his own decision, but in terms of Imperial presence and living conditions, it wouldn’t have been his first choice.

“Sadly, not so much,” you sigh, “Turns out, that in order to listen to Imperial transmissions, one must stay relative close to the Imps…”

“That’s… understandable. I’m glad you found me. Solid timing,” Cal mumbles and casts his gaze down. The small droid nudges his side.

“I’m actually from Coruscant,” you blurt out to prevent the awkward mood. “Probably wasn’t born there but it was my home for a long time.”

“Oh?” Cal blinks surprised. “Do you have any family?”

“No, well, besides the one I left behind.” You shrug to signal it wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t anymore. Just the factual outcome of your choice to go with Cere.

Cal doesn’t ask anything more and you mentally reprimand yourself for opening your mouth in the first place.

//

After Greez’s majestic landing on Zeffo despite the strong winds, there is a short dialogue between the Mantis crew on how to proceed. Cere is concerned but knows that time is of the essence. Greez vows he won’t set a foot outside the ship. You sigh and hope that everything will go alright. The storms are interfering with the ship comms and while it’s worrying, there is no time to waste. The Empire might be at your heels without you knowing it.

Cal runs a hand impatiently through his hair. The faster he goes out there, the sooner you can leave. He cannot afford to wait for the comms to start working again.

“I’ll search for signs of Cordova in the meantime,” he says, already turned to leave.

Cere nods. “Good, I’ll be in touch once I crack this.”

Cal heads out into the wind. You pace after him to see the snowy scenery. It’s been a while since you were anywhere with so much winter. And there isn’t even much by the galaxy’s standards. It’s common knowledge that there are planets covered in ice and snow but so far you’ve managed to avoid them. You’re not so eager to get out there with Cal anymore.

“Cal?” you call out as he stays to look around too. You landed on a seemingly abandoned settlement in the eye of the storm.

“Yeah?” He turns to you with a curious look and BD-1 peeps from over his shoulder.

To shield yourself from the weather, you hug your cardigan and hide your hands between your arms and sides. The air is brisk and cold. Cal is wearing a woolen poncho over his clothes and you didn’t think anyone could look good in a poncho. Must be a Jedi thing.

“Be careful out there. You’ll be alone until Cere fixes the communications.” You glance at the lightsaber resting by his thigh and the brave small droid on his back.

“I will. You should head back inside.” He sees you shivering. BD-1 boops in agreement.

“Oh. I was just about to offer to go with you,” you jest and smirk.

Cal’s brows rise. “Really?”

“Mmmaybe some other time or planet. Somewhere warm,” you chuckle and stop your teeth from clattering. The wind bites all the way through to your skin. “I’ll go help Cere. Take care… Cal.”

“Fwoo woo!” BD-1 wishes you good luck.

Cal watches you until the ship doors close. The corners of his lips persistently stay turned upward.

“Beep-boo boooop.”

“W-what?” Cal yelps at the droid’s cheeky suggestion, “No, I don’t.”

“Beep-bo.”

“Okay, just a little. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.”

BD-1 titters and shakes. Cal scoffs. The wind feels colder with you gone inside so he would best get moving.

//

After the eye of the storm, you manage to find a moment of peace. Cal and Cere have agreed on the next step of the quest to rebuild the Jedi Order. Everyone is somewhat relaxed, bellies full and eyelids drooping. Greez sits on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, talking with Cere in low voice about whether to land on a large meteor so you all can rest. You’re trying to repair an electrosword on the workstation in the back and Cal leans on the railing next to you, watching as you work with a constant confused frown on your features.

He doesn’t know how to bring up his proficiency in tinkering and fixing things. BD-1 boops and chirps on the table, dancing around the spare parts you’ve gathered. You wish you could understand his commentary better but you’re not exactly fluent in Binary.

“So where did you get that?” Cal asks and tries to not look too much or eagerly over your shoulder.

“Hm? I bought it in the Corellian Sector.” You pause. “On Nar Shaddaa.”

Cal cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t take you for the type to hang out in places like that. BD tilts his head.

You place the obstinately broken electrosword on the table and turn to look at Cal with a serious expression. “There’s a black market for lightsabers. Among other things. I… Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.” Your voice fades. How do you always end up saying the wrong thing with him?

Cal frowns lightly but his eyes stay on yours now that you’re facing him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

Cere sold the kyber crystal from her lightsaber on Nar Shaddaa. She asked you to act as the intermediary to avoid suspicion. The buyer, a delegate to some Hutt crime lord, apparently thought it hilarious to give you a broken electrosword into the bargain.

“Sorry,” you say again. That aching tender feeling is gaining foothold again and it’s getting annoying.

“Do you mind if I give that a try?” Cal nods towards the electrosword and straightens up from the railing.

“Be my guest.”

BD agrees heartily and from what you can understand, he thinks Cal is good at repairing things. You smile at the small droid and give room for Cal by the worktable.

The moment he touches the object, Cal visibly flinches. He squeezes his eyes closed as if under a migraine attack and his fingers spasm. Before you can properly realize something is wrong, the seizure stops and he lets the air out of his lungs in one heavy breath. Your heart is running rampant inside your ribcage.

You grab his arm to turn him towards you. He has gone pale.

“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” you ask fervently, looking for signs of distress on his body.

Cal’s gaze swims before he can focus and bring a thin smile to his lips.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. My bad,” he says and grimaces. You let go, slowly. He holds the electrosword up to inspect it better, acting perfectly normal again.

“Be-boop?” BD sounds concerned.

“I’m okay, BD. Really,” Cal assures the droid.

“What just happened?” you press, still a bit shaken.

Cal sees no point in hiding it. “I’m, well, psychometric. When I touch something, I may sense what’s happened to it.”

Your hands fly into the air and you stutter to find the words in a flush of anger, unable to believe that he would be so careless and reckless. “And you just touched an electrosword that’s been Force knows where,” you retort, not amused. You really want to give him an earful.

“Uh, yeah. Someone broke it on Nar Shaddaa.” Cal turns the electrosword around and finds a dent near the tip. “They didn’t last for long without it.” He talks in an even tone but the embarrassment shines through. His ears feel hot and he thinks you must consider him an idiot now.

You bite back the feral talking-to Cal is about to get and sigh. “That’s just horrible.”

Cal stays silent for a moment.

“At least I know you weren’t the one who broke it.” He smiles and you just stare the upward curve, baffled and blinking.

“Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”

Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about my boundless optimism? Yeah. I think so.”

You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.

Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often is too often to glance at his smiling face.

Cal finds it harder and harder to focus. You’re emitting warmth next to him and he is constantly overly conscious of every accident of your arms touching. The more he thinks about it, the more frequent the accidents get until you can stand it no longer and take half a step away. You’re trying to be discreet about it but you both notice the light step as well as if you had just jumped from the ship to avoid touching him.

In any case, it doesn’t help. The heavy mood only amplifies as it bounces back and forth between you and there has to be something you can say or do. Now.

“How does it work then? Can you touch any object and see its past?” you ask finally when your pulse has calmed down from the scare of Cal’s psychometry surprise seizure.

Cal has to collect his thoughts before answering. “Well, all things give off an emanation but that… concentration of the Force has to be strong enough for me to read.” He pauses and straightens up to look at you. “It’s… uhh, it’s hard to explain really.” It’s challenging to finish the thought since you’re still standing way too close and making him stutter in the process.

He looks unbelievably adorable and you throw all caution to the wind. He deserves to feel so abashed after the heart attack he gave you.

“So this…” You lightly take Cal’s free hand and press it against your chest between your collar bones. “Gives you nothing?”

His fingertips touch your neck, slightly calloused and unsure. Maybe even shaking. A rush of red rises to his cheeks and chills run down your spine.

“It doesn’t work on living beings,” Cal mumbles and looks away, utterly flustered.

A slightly snide, teasing smile rises to your lips. He seems so flummoxed. “I meant the necklace.”

His fingers curl around the small pearl and his brow furrows slightly. The touch is cool, careful in staying appropriate and almost makes you regret your impetuous flirting attempt. Your lousy shot at doing something to the heavy atmosphere, while getting back at him is backfiring. The fond and tender feeling just grows from the spot he brushed on your neck.

Cal closes his eyes and deftly ignores the warmth you radiate. He makes sure his fingers don’t touch your skin anymore. They’re tingling enough already. He focuses only on the Force.

Your necklace doesn’t spark any specific emotions. In truth, it feels somewhat indifferent to Cal in relation you. He sees it through a mirror, through your eyes and small wave of complacency, your emotion of complacency, fills him for a moment. It’s soothingly simple. He is relieved to notice how the borrowed feeling sways the flush on his cheeks and clears his head.

“It’s quite new. You bought it ‘cause you thought it was pretty,” Cal says softly. He lets go of the necklace and his hand drops. He backs away, taking purchase from the workstation.

You give him a crooked half-smile. “Makes me sound so vain,” you murmur.

He smiles back at you. “It is pretty–”

BD-1 decides to shower you with the blue scanning beam and you both swing around to look at the abrupt interruption, sternly reminded by the droid’s presence.

“Beeop! Beeop!” He chirps and jumps around the electrosword that still lies broken on the table – a kind notion to continue what you were supposed to do before the whole flirting charade began.

And not a moment later Cere appears on the doorway to ask are you two hungry. You can’t help but wonder did BD interrupt you on purpose while something strongly related to shame burns in your throat and makes it hard to face Cal’s gaze.

//

Next Chapter

Tagging: @sherniwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @sevansheart @owldearest @stellar-trinity @bd1babey @winchestergirl907 @thuutthuutbilly @rilakkyungsoo @lizbid33 @twistnet @fangirl-inthe-us @campmccarran @grandadmiral

[salenakingston]

Decided to forgo the prompt thing this time around and write a little something that came to my head on my way home from work. Been writing a lot more backstory related stuff to the main trio, and I don’t intend to stop. It’s so fun to play around with.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Medical Procedures (minor), Blood

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,117 words

The halls of this estate seemed to just go on and on. Guess that was to be expected when being invited to a place like this. The Whitegale name was one that stretched far beyond the reaches of Sweden, for a number of reasons. Alexander’s wealth and power was nothing to scoff at, but more than that, it was what he had chosen to do with it. He could very well be running his own country with the number of contacts he had, and the people that flocked to him on the promise of a good paycheck. The Whitegales never seemed to be short of work.

And that’s why he was here.

News articles continued to pile up on top of one another, the gap between his own kills becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed that since discovering his project had been a failure, he was not allowed much room to breathe. The demon had put up with him before then, no doubt already knowing the outcome before even his host had learned the price of dealing with those that were already dead.

Magic was real, but even in this new world, there were laws that had to be obeyed. No one could come back from the dead without being broken. Pleas and cries haunted the mind, be it in the waking world or when asleep.

He couldn’t stay at his office anymore, not without risking getting caught. His brain argued with him that he deserved to be taken in. He had lost count of how many lives he had stolen away, be it from those that deserved death or not. He did not care so long as he could get a laugh out of it. He would take.. And take.. And take until there was nothing left of who he once was. Life was slipping away from his fingers.

Sometimes he even wondered what the point of fighting was anymore.

Malceum had found himself on the steps of the estate, mostly by chance. Forced to flee his home country. It was quite the jump to make, Germany to Sweden. Anywhere else might have been a better idea, a place where he might be able to isolate himself so that he couldn’t thrive off the thrill of others… but there was one thing that drew him in to the promise the Whitegales proposed.

Stability.

A roof over his head.

A job.

He could be left wandering country to country without the promise of being able to see anyone. No one owed him anything, and he couldn’t very well work and move at the same time. He needed a new place to call his own. While the estate itself didn’t belong to him, since Alexander had taken him in, he was granted his own space along with the other medical personnel in the building. He had work, or at the very least, something to keep him occupied. On the plus side, with so many people around, he couldn’t just do as he pleased. Someone would notice if one of the staff went missing, or if he had slipped out of the building.

It was a bit of a win win actually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the hollow’s witty commentary silenced.

Alexander had called upon him specifically for a task. Guess the man himself had been impressed by the surgeon’s work. At least that’s what he assumed before stepping inside the office. It was for a stranger reason that he had been chosen. Alexander’s wife had seen him in a vision. Said woman was quite the enigma. Seeing her was rare outside of briefings and events. He had gazed into her unseeing eyes, and could swear that she was somehow still staring back at him. It was enough to unsettle anyone.

He didn’t believe her vision, at least when it seemed like it was something so minor. It was just another surgical job. What did it matter if he was the one who did it, or someone else. Alexander had explained that he never questioned anything his wife had seen, nor was surprised at Malceum’s skeptic tone.

Well… whatever. He had a job to do.

Returning him back to his path through the halls. He had finally managed to figure out where he was going, though it probably helped that he dropped the files he had been flipping through from his eyesight. Anything already on a person’s medical record could help him to understand his patient’s body. Their strengths and weaknesses, at least on a physical level, and what kind of treatments one had already undergone. Which worked, and which ones did not.

But this file just left him dumbfounded.

It was for someone by the name ‘Salena Kingston.’ The first thing that struck him as odd was the inclusion of a ‘species’ tag on her records. Species? It labeled her a wolf, but this had to be some kind of mistake. True, magic was a possibility, but this just seemed too much of a stretch as to what could be considered real now. Humans seeing the future? Believable at the very least. Humans channeling enough energy to bring the souls of others back from the dead? He had seen it first hand. Humanized animals? Unheard of.

Brushing past this mistake, he got into the meat of her records. It baffled him that the list of problems with her physical attributes grew longer and longer with each person that had seen her, yet they had all cleared her to return to duty. Were all of them so negligent with their jobs, doing this on purpose so they could make another sum of money from their wealthy employer? Or was this Alexander’s own doing? It was clear he had contact with everyone on his medical team. Surely he wouldn’t be worse than the doctors.

Well, he wasn’t going to be like them.

Malceum stopped as he came to the medical wing. He knew the path here, but not to this specific room. It seemed strange to be directed to one room, as many others he had taken care of were spread through to whichever space was available. This was ‘her room.’ Just how often was this person here to have a room all of her own?

The surgeon steeled himself, and then opened the door. Strange that this door requires a pin number to open, sliding rather than opening like any normal door.

A pair of blue eyes peered over at him.

The door shut behind him, effectively locking him in the room with a literal beast. So that species part of her documents hadn’t been a typo after all. There, sitting in the bed, was a wolf with a humanized figure. He couldn’t find one thing to focus on, his eyes moving all around her. Her red face markings, visible scars across the top of her muzzle and neck, the curved notches in her ears, the traces of bags under her eyes, but mostly that piercing gaze that fell on him.

A gaze that seemed to be narrowing the longer he stood still. He even found his hands shaking slightly. No, it wasn’t fear that was causing this. He seemed delighted by this turn of events.

“Hey.”

What? Oh that was her voice.

“Are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you actually going to do your job?”

Malceum was taken aback. Never in all his career could he recall a patient speaking to him in such a way. Annoyance replaced his surprised expression. Oh, he could tell he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of this one. He set her file down on the small table next to her bed. As he drew closer, he noticed the tubes sticking out of her nose, a tank on the opposite side from where he was standing. Oxygen? Was she having trouble breathing? There were so many problems on the list, it was likely his brain skipped over it, much like the fact of her ‘species.’

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes, st-top.”

His hands were shaking again. She’ll be fun to play with.

Y-You ca-an’t-t.

Oh I’ll find a way.

He gave an audible sigh, an eyebrow raised on the woman? Wolf? In bed. Right, he must look like a crazy person. She was glaring at him at this point, so he might as well match her attitude, “W-well M-Ms. Kin-ngs-ston, I can h-hones-stly s-say in all m-my l-lif-fe I’ve n-nev-ver se-e-een s-som-meo-one as b-brok-ken as y-you are a-and-d s-stil-ll w-wil-llin-ng to m-mout-th off t-the p-per-rson w-who’s-s b-been a-assig-gned to h-help you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Sorrowgrave. You’re hardly the first person to be assigned to me as you put it.”

She knew who he was? He hadn’t even been here that long, and he’d never seen her before. Did Alexander tell her about him before summoning him? He mentally shook off that train of thought, scoffing at her, “S-So I’ve s-see-en, a-and it s-seem-ms n-non-ne of t-them-m h-have b-bee-en t-treat-tin-ng you p-pr-rop-perly.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I k-know-w I c-can.”

“Doubtful.”

Now he was getting more than just annoyed. Were it not for the mask covering his mouth, he was sure his sharpened teeth would be flashing to accompany his growl, “Y-You d-doub-bt my s-sk-kills-s?”

Her tone didn’t change. From the moment she first started talking to him, it seemed she was intent on holding onto her level of sass, but content. Was it acceptance? It was too soon to tell. She didn’t shut up, “Oh no, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I’m just saying I doubt there’s anything you can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried, or improve upon. My body’s fucked.”

Und-der-rst-tatem-ment-t.

“T-Then-n c-care to ex-xp-plain to m-me w-why y-you’v-ve b-bee-en cl-lear-red e-ev-ver-ry s-sin-ngle t-tim-me y-you’ve b-bee-en h-her-re wh-hen ev-ven you are a-awa-are th-hat s-somet-th-hing is w-wron-ng w-with you?”

“Have you been paying attention? I told you there’s nothing that you can do to improve my condition. You’ll either clear me like the rest of them or I spend the rest of my life sitting in bed. Sounds far too dull.”

“Wh-hy are y-you h-her-re t-then?”

The bitch seemed to roll her eyes at that question, “Did Alexander not even bother to tell his new surgeon why he was being sent here? Just send him off with a file and expect him to wing it?”

Obviously she wasn’t pleased, but was that directed at him, or at her employer? She had to be working for the man if she was in her own private room, but also referred to the Whitegale man by his first name. How was it that she seemed more annoyed than he was having to put up with this? He glared over at the file, as if it had committed a crime by simply being in the room, “H-he s-said his w-wif-fe s-saw me h-her-re in a v-vis-sion.”

That was the thing that seemed to shut her up. Her attitude melted away, head moving up slightly from its slouched over position, “Cassandra saw you? I see.”

So she knew something about the man’s wife too. Just what was so special about this woman and what she could see? Why was it a driving force for so many decisions made around here? It was largely irrelevant for the present moment. He still had a job to do. He found his face easing slightly, “N-Now t-th-hen. W-What-t are y-you in f-for t-tod-day?”

“I need stitches. The staff have been able to do what they could for the wounds, but they won’t heal properly without that work, and Alexander won’t let me do the ones I can reach myself. I’ve been instructed not to move as much until someone got here to take care of the problem.”

She’s capable of doing her own stitch work? Perhaps their employer didn’t want her to do it, feeling more confident with a professional surgeon on staff. Guess his reputation from his home country had something to do with that.

There was a spot for Malceum to prepare for this small task, doing his best to get his hands to stop shaking before he got to work. When he turned back around, he noticed that she had placed her wrists above leather straps on each side of her bed. Restraints, yet she was so casual about their use. She was looking so expectantly at him, “I d-don’t-t s-see a n-nee-ed to hav-ve to u-use t-thos-se.”

“Look Sorrowgrave, I know you’re new here, but trust me on this one. Unless you want to risk my claws finding your skin or impaled on accident, you will strap me down.”

“Y-You c-can’t-t do wor-rse t-than-n wh-hat has al-lre-eady b-bee-en d-done to me.”

“What?”

What?

She didn’t seem to buy that, trying again, “Trust me on this one Sorrowgrave. You’re going to want me restrained. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise if I didn’t think there was any danger to this.” It baffled him in a way that she was willing to be tied down, for his own sake. She was aware of her own power, able to assume she had some from the way she phrased her words, and took her own measures to ensure the staff’s safety. Seeing no need to fight her further, he stepped over to her bed, tightening the straps as tight as he could around each wrist. Her eyes turned forward, waiting now.

He only stepped away to gather his materials before coming to her side, “I’ll n-nee-ed to re-em-move y-your g-gow-wn.”

“Go ahead.”

He had done this so many times before, so there was no need to be so hesitant. The gown was laid across the railing closest to him, his eyes focusing to the new bundle of white and red along her shoulder. So one wound there. He could see the same along her upper chest, another spot along her side, and one last one near her thigh. Whatever mission she must have been on didn’t include an instruction on being careful.

His hands moved around the bandages, removing them. Sure enough, the cuts were deep, jagged in some places. He couldn’t help but notice the ones along her upper chest were different. They were straighter, each one with more than one line next to them. They looked very similar to scars that already littered her upper body. Eyes narrowed, staring on them, and she must have caught onto him again, “As much as I would love for you to keep gawking over my body, do you mind getting on with it? I hate sitting still.”

A low growl passed through his lips, sitting back up so he was at a better angle to do his job. No point in entertaining her rebuke. The sooner he could get these stitches done, the sooner he could leave. A syringe moved towards her wrist, sticking her in a safe place. It shouldn’t take too long for her body to grow numb. While he waited, his eyes moved over the wounds. Whichever medical personnel came to see her before him did a good job cleaning them out. All of them were clear of any signs of infection. Good. He would have hated to do more work than necessary.

He was always careful with his work, testing to make sure the anesthesia was in effect before the needle even touched her skin. Salena barely moved during the entire procedure, making this far easier. Guess he was right that she actually didn’t need to worry about the restraints. He couldn’t help but manage a smug look behind his mask. Good thing she couldn’t see that.

Clean bandages were wrapped back where the dirty ones used to be, leaving the surgeon with nothing else to do aside from clean up. He took care of himself before returning to his patient’s side, freeing her wrists and offering the discarded gown back to her. She snatched it from him, draping it back over her form. Guess his work here was done, so he could leave.

Before he could input the pin to the door panel, he heard her voice again, “Wait.”

Wait? Why? He thought she would be thrilled to have him leave her space. She was rubbing one of her wrists when he turned his eyes back onto her. Her gaze moved to the side, “Thanks. Let me compensate you for your work. I know something you may appreciate more than whatever Alexander will pay you.”

Weird. What could she possibly offer someone like him. Eyes widened when a pocket of magic She stuck her arm inside of it, pulling out a vial. What had he just witnessed? Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it fascinated him. Just what was this woman capable of?

Eyes trailed down to the vial, the magic having disappeared, and this what was offered out to him. He took it in his hands, fingers rolling it back and forth as it rested along his palm. The vial contained some kind of green liquid. He was about to question her when she noticed his confusion, “It’s a dreamless sleep potion. I can see the dark bags under your eyes. If they’re anything like mine, I can guess partly why you’re not getting sleep at night. Figured it might help.”

“I-It’s a w-what-t?”

It’s a what?!

One was thrilled, and the other panicking. He couldn’t lose the only outlet he still had for the time being to break down his host. Malceum’s hand began to tremble, grip moving around the vial. Audible cracks from the glass rang in the small room. He tried to save this small act of mercy she had offered him, but he was stronger. The vial shattered, potion spilling between his fingers. Tiny tears pricked at his eyes, red mixing with green along his hand.

He turned around, punching in the code to allow himself to leave, racing down the hall once the door opened.

She didn’t miss the orange flickering in his gaze.

He could tell she was a danger. She had something that could help him, and he made them flee. He wanted to go back to her, beg her for another one, but it was useless. He was going to make him pay for this new found hope.

Salena’s eyes didn’t leave the man, even as he sprinted past the window looking into her room. There was something very wrong with him. Cassandra saw him being sent to her. There was some reason they were meant to meet. Her gaze shifted down to the puddle on the floor, green mixing with red. He wanted that.

Something else made him break it.

And she would find out what.