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moonstrider9904 · 2 years

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Guardian

Chapter 15 of Moonwalker: The Batch

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Summary: Miraculously still alive, Sarah and Clone Force 99 head to Jedha for her to properly heal, where Sarah feels she must be honest to Hunter about what happened on Kamino.

Word count: 9.3k (yikes)

Tags: Explicit 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, injury recovery, talk of infidelity, hurt/comfort, magical bonds, SMUT, soft sex, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap it up irl, my loves), pussy-drunk Hunter, oral female receiving.

Songs: moonwalker, schmetterling (piano version), ghostin’, wildfire, take me to churchA/N: still a sad chapter, but being the conclusion of this three-chapter original arc, it makes up for the utter agony I put you guys through with the last one, and it gets happier in the end!

“You miss me?”

“Why are you here?” Sarah asked him, her voice creaking and weak.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t die,” he responded as bluntly as ever.

“You wouldn’t happen to be worried about me, would you, now?” She teased.

“No.”

When Crosshair rested the rifle on his lap, Sarah got a look of the chain dangling from his neck, which wasn’t there before. At the bottom of the chain was a small, shiny stone, and it made Sarah grin like an idiot when she realized it was the diamond.

Crosshair noticed her reaction and looked at her questioningly. “What?”

“You have the diamond,” she squealed.

“Yes.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she let out a soft laughter, one that sounded much more like hers. “Is it possible that the big, mean, grumpy marksman actually does have a heart after all?”

“Shut up,” Crosshair said with a smile that betrayed him.

“Crosshair!”

Sarah’s eyes darted open as she sat up on the rack. Breathing heavily, she quickly felt a hand securing her forearm, a hand belonging to Echo as he tried to make sure she was okay while Tech came running in from the cockpit of the Marauder.

“Easy,” Echo soothed. “You’re okay.”

Sarah looked around and realized that what she’d just witnessed was a woozy, unconscious replica of something that had already happened, and something that her mind desperately wished was happening now.

“Take deep breaths, Sarah,” Tech said as he checked some things in the holopad she was wired to, with nodes spanning along her left arm. “What made you wake up so suddenly?”

She hesitated. “A dream.”

Tech raised a brow at her, wary; he knew her better than that.

“Okay, it was a flashback,” Sarah admitted.

As Tech checked her vitals, Echo continued holding Sarah’s hand, ever the comforting best friend that he was. It felt nice to Sarah to have Echo there with her; heavens knew he hadn’t parted from her side for a second.

And just then, Wrecker, Hunter, and Omega made their way in from the cockpit of the ship. When Sarah’s gaze met that of Hunter, her heart shattered all over again.

How worried had he been? And for what?

But despite the thoughts coursing through Sarah’s mind, Hunter rushed to her and gently took her in his arms, ignoring everyone else in the room. He’d only held her for a few seconds, and Sarah already felt herself calming down in his warm embrace, his husky scent bringing her a sense of home she didn’t know she was longing for.

It only heightened her regret.

“How are you?” Hunter quietly asked her.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I promise, I’m fine.”

Hunter hesitated to let go of her, but he knew the others wanted to check in on her again. Sure enough, all pairs of eyes were on Sarah as Hunter took his place among the group, all of them looking like they were on the edge of tears as they stared at the prominent bandage around Sarah’s chest.

“Sarah…” Omega began, her voice breaking and eyes watering again. “What happened?”

“Do you remember what happened?” Tech asked to verify.

Sarah gave a shaky nod. “Yeah, I—I found Crosshair. I was recruited, I got the armor, trained with him, and everything was going well until I found out the things they’re been making him do.” Her voice hushed. “The Empire’s forcing him into doing atrocities… things he’d never think of doing, all because he can’t say no.”

A monster who hadn’t chosen to become one. It was horrifying just to think of it.

“I confronted Rampart about it, I—” her voice broke too. “I fucked up. If I hadn’t gotten so angry and confronted the admiral, I might have still stood a chance, but he saw right through me and ordered Crosshair to kill me.”

“And he did,” Echo said.

“You don’t understand, Echo,” Sarah intervened. “He fought like I’d never seen him do it. Crosshair was in pain, he cried, he did everything he could.”

Skeptical looks were directed her way.

“We have to go back for him,” Sarah stated.

“Absolutely not,” Hunter said.

“There is still light in him,” Sarah answered. “He can fight the chip, I saw it. The fact that he didn’t kill me should be proof enough, right?”

None of them answered, and Hunter let out a long sigh as he looked over at Echo, who somberly nodded in response.

“Right?” Sarah asked again, less convinced.

“You don’t remember that part,” Tech said. “It makes sense, I knew it was too good to be true that your memory was completely unaffected.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Look at your chest, for heaven’s sake,” Echo said.

Afraid of what she’d find, Sarah looked down at her chest and saw the bandage that wrapped her, crossing over the very center where her heart was, and the memory of when she leaped for the Y-Wing returned, as did the memory of the pain as she fell.

“The blast pierced your heart,” Hunter said lowly.

Her eyes widened in horror as the very argument she used to defend Crosshair all along was now sadistically turned against her.

Crosshair never missed a shot. He’d fired at her shoulder first, fired wide after that. But ultimately, he aimed for her heart, and he shot to kill.

“No…” She sobbed. “No, it can’t be—”

“Calm down,” Echo stilled her before she began to hyperventilate. “You need to stay calm.”

She tried her best to cling to her sanity, observing herself as she did. Her upper body had been stripped of clothes and armor, her chest and breasts covered by the bandaging while a blanket hid away her arms and kept her warm, while her lower body still donned the dark imperial armor she’d been given. The bind with which her hair had been pulled into a bun had been cut off, leaving her hair to fall freely down her back.

The chain with the two diamonds had been untouched.

“And…” Omega continued as she approached with a mirror and delicately pulled up one side of the blanket, revealing Sarah’s arm. “This happened.”

Sarah looked down at the marks in her arm and realized they’d not only darkened, but the lines were bolder too, as if someone had painted over them with a thick brush. In the mirror, Sarah noticed that the same had happened for the marks on her face, and her eyes, usually glowing with all the colors of the universe, had been dimmed with only dark blues and purples.

Her eyes resembled dead stars.

Nothing felt good about it; other times, a change in her marks had told Sarah she was on the right path, but this time it was as if they were clinging to something that didn’t belong with her, something they wanted to let go of that had no place being with them.

“I regret to inform you, Sarah,” Tech said, his voice sounding unsettlingly sad, “but Crosshair shot to kill.”

She brushed her hand over her forehead as it all settled in. Guilt washed away all other emotion; it was her fault. Her foolishness, her fury, it had all ruined everything.

“The only reason you are still alive is quite literally a miracle,” Tech added. “If you were not Force-sensitive, I would not have been able to save you. The Force saved you.”

Sarah took her hand from her eyes to her mouth as she stared blankly into space. While what Tech was telling her made sense, she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t look at any of them out of the sheer horror and shock that had overcome her.

Desperately, she tried to make sense of things. The Empire, controlling Crosshair, could make him do anything, including killing those he loved.

Sarah was Force-sensitive, and she was lucky to survive. But if it hadn’t been her, and it had been anyone else in the squadron, they certainly would have died.

There was nothing he, or Sarah, or anyone could do.

Sarah was responsible for ruining her own plan, a plan she’d insisted on carrying on with, and in doing so, she’d cheated on Hunter.

And she had no idea what was happening to her Marks, but it was by no means good.

Tech stood up from his chair. “We’ll let you rest.”

He gestured for the others to leave as well, and they quietly made their way to the cockpit, but not without reassuring their support to Sarah first. It meant the world to her that Hunter wasn’t mad at her—of course, he didn’t know half of it.

Omega was the last one to go before Tech, staring at her with wide, worried eyes, wordlessly asking Sarah how she could help. Hell, the kid would fix the whole damn thing if she could.

“I’m fine, Omega,” Sarah whispered. “I just need to be alone for a bit.”

Omega nodded sadly and made her way to her room. Now, Tech was the one looking at Sarah as if he had something to say, but by the look on his face, he felt he shouldn’t.

“Tell me,” Sarah said.

Tech sighed. “You told him you loved him. Crosshair. That time you were poisoned.”

And she immediately regretted making Tech speak. She shouldn’t have heard that, not in her state, but still, the tears immediately returned to her eyes.

“I do,” she whispered. “I did…”

“I’m sorry,” Tech said as he left the room.

Finally, Sarah rested her head in her hands and wept as quietly as she could.

Hours later, with the Marauder still drifting through space, Tech told Sarah she could begin moving on her own so long as she took it easy. That said, the ambience in the ship was still awful. Everyone was quiet, with Wrecker trying to lift everyone’s moods by joking around, but it didn’t work for anyone.

Sarah took advantage of the emptiness of the cockpit to go in by herself. She sat on the pilot’s seat and looked out at the infinite sea of stars while she played with the diamonds in her hands, free of their chain.

She knew she shouldn’t even be looking at them, especially Crosshair’s diamond, but she couldn’t help it. Beside the rifle, which she doubted she’d still use, it was the only thing she had left of him. And dammit, she missed him. She couldn’t decide if she was sad or angry, but at least staring at the stars helped bring her some peace.

Sarah knew he’d been manipulated into doing it, and yet, it still hurt that in the end he did shoot to kill.

Light steps approached, and Sarah turned around to see Omega. The child took a seat in the copilot’s chair and looked at the stars too, her big, bright eyes reflecting the endless specs in the sea of darkness. Omega’s mere presence was a comfort, a symbol of growth, of innocence, of goodwill, like any child would represent to a little bunch of hardened soldiers.

Then, Omega looked at Sarah and caught her gaze.

“Want to talk about it?” The child asked.

“There’s not much more to say, ‘Mega…”

She looked down at the diamond in Sarah’s hands, and Sarah’s own gaze lingered on them as well.

“I’ve seen so many troopers fall, Omega,” Sarah began without lifting her gaze. “But when a trooper dies, you have that certainty, that means to eventually make peace with it. This is nothing like that. Crosshair is there, somewhere, and yet, he’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I couldn’t save Crosshair. I couldn’t save Fives, I couldn’t save anyone, and in the process, I’ve only done more harm. Just once, I wish I could save someone I love from a fate someone else decided for them.”

Omega took Sarah’s hand. “It’s not your job to save him or anyone. You can try, but it’s not your duty, and you haven’t failed anyone. Please don’t put that pressure on yourself.”

Sarah was at a loss for words, her throat too tight to speak, rendering a sobbing, sniffling mess in front of the child who squeezed her hand tighter.

“Let it out,” Omega said softly.

Sarah smiled through her tears and kept on crying, as Omega did what any great friend would do as she remained next to Sarah while she wept in dismay.

Hunter

He'd heard her sobbing from the hallway of the ship, the sound capable enough to shatter him into pieces. He silently made his way to the cockpit to find that Omega was with her; at least Sarah wasn't all alone, but it was taking every ounce of his willpower to not take Sarah in his arms simply to protect her, if only for a while.

As he watched, Tech and Echo came up silently behind him.

"Hunter," Tech tried calling his attention.

Hunter knew he should be the one comforting Sarah. He shouldn't have left her alone—surely she would recover far faster if she had company, if she didn’t feel abandoned. Still, Hunter managed to draw his attention from the young woman and focus on Tech.

"What are we going to do now?" Tech asked him. "Do we just return to Ord Mantell?"

Hunter sighed. "I don't want to do anything until we make sure Sarah is completely healed. She might need something else, I’m not convinced we’ve heard the last of whatever’s happening with her marks."

"I agree," Echo said.

"Well then, we should check that with her," Tech concluded.

"Check what?" Wrecker appeared behind him with a drumstick in his hand, still chewing through the bite he'd just taken, his voice loud and anything but discreet.

Wrecker’s three brothers glared at him to shut up.

"We know you're out there," Omega called from the cockpit.

The troopers simply resigned and made their way inside the cockpit. As he entered, Hunter could see Sarah wiping her eyes with her wrist before her eyes landed on Hunter, who tried his best not to look at her with pity, even though he also felt miserable about the whole situation with Crosshair.

His enhanced eyesight let him see the way her eyes were swollen, how they were still gleaming with tears that Sarah was trembling to hold back inside. He could see the subtle shaking of her lips; he knew all she wanted to do was break down. Regardless, Sarah was strong. Hunter was confident that she’d make it through that the way she had with everything else until then.

Omega took Sarah's hand and placed it in Hunter's. The sergeant, with great affection towards the child, smiled in gratitude at her, who always seemed to know better when it came to the heart. He then sat down next to Sarah, and when he did, he felt her lean on him. Hunter gently kissed her temple, not caring that everyone else was there, not caring about much else at all, for that matter.

In a fit, Wrecker offered Sarah his drumstick. It didn't have that much meat left on it, but Hunter guessed he thought eating might make her feel better.

Sarah managed a smile at the gesture, touched at Wrecker’s own way of showing she cared.

"No thanks," she said. "It's yours."

"Oh, well," Wrecker said and kept eating.

Tech sighed. "We need to know what we're going to do next."

"What do you have in mind?" Sarah asked. "And why do you have to check with me?"

"We don't want to go through with any other plans until we know you’ll be alright," Hunter said.

"Which means we might have to hide for a while," Tech finished. “I do not think we need to find you any more medical equipment for the time being, but laying low seems feasible.”

"But we still need credits and supplies, don't we?" She said shakily. "Unstable as it is, we have a shot at a life back on Ord Mantell. Let’s go there."

"What about your marks?" Echo asked her. "It wouldn't be right to just keep going if something's wrong with you."

Sarah's eyes drifted for a bit, thinking of an option, until her dim gaze met Hunter’s.

"We could go to Jedha," she said. "We can hide there, and it's the best place for me to heal. We'll find the elders and it'll be easier for me to find out what to do."

"Won't there be Jedi hiding out there?" Tech said. "I mean, won't it be dangerous, with the Empire?"

"We don't have much choice," Hunter countered, protectively squeezing Sarah's hand.

"I don't think there will be Jedi or Empire forces there," Sarah said. "If any Jedi managed to survive…" she trailed off for a bit. Hunter saw something flash in her eyes, and he too remembered Skywalker, Kenobi, the Jedi they had seen so little time ago. Hunter knew Sarah would wonder if they were alright, and possibly feel guilty for not thinking about them sooner.

"They'll be hiding in more remote places, not in one of the central spiritual planets for the Jedi," Sarah continued. "And the Empire knows that, so they won't waste any of their precious time going there," a snarl crept its way into her voice as she finished.

"And won't there be anyone looking for you?" Echo asked her.

Sarah sighed. "I was unconscious when I left Kamino. As far as the Empire's concerned, they got rid of me."

"But if they suspected, they'd start there," Tech said.

"They won’t. When I sent the transmission from Ord Mantell, I had R6 alter its origin to Balmorra," Sarah said. "I don't think the Empire believes in miracles, but if they do, they’ll use my transmission as a base."

"And if they do come after her, we're just going to have to take the risk this time," Hunter added. "Sarah's our priority now, not the Empire."

"I agree," Omega said.

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker exchanged looks and nodded at each other, and Hunter took it as a green light and gave the order.

"Very well," he stood up. "Let's set a course for Jedha."

Tech began punching the coordinates in the ship's dashboard to set the course. Omega scooted closer to Sarah, visibly excited.

"What's Jedha like?" Omega asked her.

"It's the opposite of Kamino," Sarah said, a warm smile appearing on her lips. "Land and desert as far as the eye can see, the sun blazing hot every hour of the day until the night gifts you an infinite view of the galaxy."

"Whoa," Omega said. “You make it sound so beautiful.”

"I'm not sure if you'll love it," Sarah chuckled. It was the first time any of them had heard her laugh in a while. “It’s still a desert.”

"I'm sure I will," Omega said. “It’s where you’re from, after all.”

Hunter could only look at Sarah in adoration at how great she was with Omega, at her will to smile at her despite everything going on. Seeing her like that only made things clearer for him. He knew before, but at that moment more than ever, Hunter was certain he had to protect Sarah even with his final breaths.

Upon arriving at Jedha, Hunter could see Sarah's face brighten just a bit as some of the weight had seemingly been taken off her; it was almost as if the color would return to her eyes.

During the whole trip, she'd been holding his hand, looking at him with guilt. Hunter wouldn’t force any words out of her—he’d never dream of it—but Hunter could guess very well what the source of such remorse was.

Even so, he knew, since Ord Mantell, that he’d never be able to torture her over it. What Sarah needed now was for him to be there for her.

The Marauder landed outside of the large, holy city of Jedha, and Sarah led the squad to a temple within the towering mountains around it. Hunter remained beside her the entire time, holding her close, observing any reaction she may have had. Finally, they stopped before the temple, the large, sand-colored structure with various statues and representations of Jedi, monks and even sorcerers looming in front of them.

"Are you alright?" Hunter checked in on her before going in.

Sarah looked at him, managing a slight curve on her lips. "Yeah. It's good to be home."

"Hey," Hunter told her just before she went inside, giving her hands a squeeze.

She looked at him with wide, expecting eyes, and everything within Hunter went soft.

"We'll be with you the whole time, got it?" He smiled at her.

Sarah smiled back, but her eyes dropped in that same remorse she’d been carrying with her since she woke. "I know you will."

She led them all inside the temple, whose halls were long and lit by torches. Sarah suddenly stopped and her head jerked to the side, as though she'd picked up on something no one else would. Hunter prepared to fight off anyone who came, but then the voice of a young male filled the hallway.

"I could feel you since you entered the planet, Starry-Eyes!"

Whereas that probably would have put anyone else on edge, or so it seemed to Hunter, Sarah's face lit up with a grin. Hunter admired the sight; it was the most she'd smiled since they'd rescued her from Kamino. Sarah looked around to find the source of the voice, and soon they spotted the young, thin man who was sitting on the ground of an adjacent hall, with a large staff in hand, and whose eyes had gone white.

"Chirrut!" Sarah jogged over at the young man, who seemed to be a few years older than her. In response, he smiled as well, and the two joined in a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"Likewise, my friend," Chirrut responded as they let go of each other, "but I am sensing you carry great weight with you. Why have you come? And who has come with you?"

"Right, introductions," Sarah said. "I guess you could call them my chosen family."

Chirrut faced them as Sarah spoke, naming them individually. Though Chirrut couldn't see them, Hunter knew he was observing them in ways he didn’t yet understand.

"Clone troopers?" The monk questioned.

"Yes," Sarah replied. "Troopers who haven't fallen victims to the Empire, at least..."

"A rarity," Chirrut responded. "I sense that has to do with why you're here," he placed a hand on Sarah's forearm. "Your marks. They are different."

"That's exactly why I'm here," she said, with an edge returning to her voice. "I need to see my parents. Actually, I think I should see the whole council."

"You know where to find them,” Chirrut said. “Go to the main hall, but I suggest you go alone.”

Hunter's instinct to protect Sarah leapt within him, causing him to grip Sarah's hand with strength. She looked at him, almost concerned, and gently brushed his chest to calm him down.

"Hunter, this is my home," she reassured him. "No one here is going to hurt me."

Her eyes slightly trailed downward in doubt before she looked back at Chirrut. "Do you think it'll be fine if I bring him along with me?"

Chirrut shrugged. "I don't think there will be a problem. He has the deepest bond with you."

"How do you know that?" Hunter questioned, hopeful he hadn't sounded too skeptical.

Chirrut chuckled. "The Force is strong. It moves differently between you two. You and Sarah have practically imprinted; your bond with her is that of a guardian."

Hunter's heart sank even if Sarah was looking up at him with all the love she could muster.

"I guess I've done a bad job of that lately," Hunter confessed.

Sarah slowly shook her head. "It was not your fault," she whispered before perking up on her toes to softly kiss him. "You weren't there, there was nothing you could do."

"I should have been there."

And Hunter hadn't been able to shake that sensation since Sarah had boarded the Y-Wing to head to Kamino. He'd denied it, told himself she’d be fine, only to realize it when it was too late. He should have gone with her, he felt that blast to her heart was as much his responsibility as anyone’s.

Putting aside any uncertainty and bitterness regarding Sarah's relationships with him and Crosshair, the sharpshooter was his brother above all else. He should have returned for him too—Sarah had told him that, and Hunter had convinced himself it was too risky. She should have done what Sarah did and gone back for him anyway, maybe that way they’d succeeded. Had he made that decision, Crosshair may never have shot Sarah, and perhaps they’d all be safe and sound now.

But if Hunter felt before that it was too dangerous to return for Crosshair, now that notion had only intensified.

"There is much turmoil within your guardian," Chirrut told Sarah. "Perhaps he should go with you after all. It will help you both."

"Alright," Sarah said. "Do you mind if the rest stay with you in the meantime?"

"Not at all!" Chirrut chimed happily. "I'd love company! I am sure they can tell me many stories of the great war."

"Thanks," she smiled, turning to the rest of the squad. "There are some huts outside. The one with the crescent moon was mine. If it gets dark, you can stay there. It'll be a bit crowded, but it's something. I don't know how long Hunter and I will take."

"Take as much time as you need," Tech said, while the rest of them nodded at her and Hunter.

Sarah faced her childhood friend one more time. "Thank you, Chirrut."

"Anytime," he said. "And, Sarah. You have a trial ahead of you. May the Force be with you."

Sarah nodded at him as her fingers curled around Hunter's, and the group split into two as they headed in opposite directions. Hunter and Sarah walked down the hallways in silence while he observed the way she seemed to know every turn like the palm of her hand, finding a strange sense of comfort at seeing the woman he loved finally returning home.

"What was it like, growing up here?" He couldn't help but ask her.

Sarah smiled softly. "Strict. We were either in class or training almost all the time. There was a lot of meditating, and a lot of working on my own peculiar abilities. Chirrut was born blind, but the Force was always really strong with him. He and I were the special cases here in the temple, taught many of the same things, but as we grew up, he took his path and I took mine. But we had our good times, too."

They stopped before a pair of large doors which began to open, almost automatically, to reveal the large hall inside. It was a circular room with stone chairs along its circumference, each one occupied by a person. Two of those people jolted up at the sight of Sarah, one man and one woman, and they ran to her, whose features strongly resembled hers. Though her back was turned on Hunter, he knew Sarah mirrored their concern as she ran to them too and took them in her arms.

"Sarah!" said the woman as she stroked her hair.

They were both shorter in height than her, but Hunter knew these were her parents. Embracing both of them, Sarah rested her weight on them and shed a few tears. Hunter's heart squeezed at the sight; Sarah had put aside everything and simply allowed herself to be vulnerable.

In the midst of all the mess that her life had been since the war ended, Sarah had ceased to be a chosen one of the Force, and was, at that moment, merely a child desperately in need of a hug from her parents.

"My dear, your marks!" Gasped her mother.

"That's why I'm here," Sarah said as she wiped her tears away, regaining her composure.

Her mother's gaze drifted over to Hunter, and he saw all the features they shared, aside from, of course, the eyes and the hair.

"Who is he?" Asked Sarah’s mother

Sarah thought for a moment before answering. "He's my Guardian."

Hunter's lips curved slightly at what Sarah had called him, and he bowed respectfully to her parents. They bowed back, acknowledging him, with soft smiles on their lips, and returned to their places around the room. Sarah then walked to the center while Hunter remained on the edge, and she faced the elder in the middle.

"Your return is unprecedented," the elder told Sarah.

"It is, Elder Skye," Sarah replied, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "I need help. Guidance, healing."

"So I see," replied Skye. "Your Marks hold a great weight on them, one that should not be there."

"I can feel it," Sarah said.

"Why did this happen?"

"I..." Sarah hesitated. "I took a lethal shot to the heart. It would have killed me, but I believe the Force wanted to keep me alive. I think that's why my marks look like this now."

"What was your bond with the person who fired the shot?"

Hunter could feel the way Sarah's gaze darkened as she tried to figure out the words, physically struggling to get them out as they formed a knot in her throat.

"I love him," she managed. "And I daresay he loves—loved me too."

Elder Skye raised an eyebrow at Sarah.

“I sense that love is not all there is to this bond, mutual or not,” said the elder.

“You’re right,” Sarah answered. “I imprinted on him when we met, though I didn’t realize immediately. I’m not only attracted to him; the Force binds me to him, it wills it.”

Elder Skye closer her eyes in thought. “An imprint through the Force is meant to be a good thing, it is not meant to cause pain.”

"The pain isn’t his will, but the Empire’s. He's being controlled," Sarah explained. "He doesn't have free will. He's a clone trooper who has an inhibitor chip that makes him follow orders without question. He was turned against me. Even then, I know he struggled and tried to disobey the order, but the Empire's turned him into their pawn. I was only trying to get him back… I tried to save him."

Elder Sky nodded somberly. "My child, what your Marks reflect is the conflict that arose within you. You were not trained as a Jedi, but there is a reason the Jedi emphasized the importance of fear, the danger of attachment. A fear of loss is one of the many paths to the dark side."

"I don't deal in absolutes," Sarah said quietly. "I've never been entirely one thing. Even some of the Jedi tapped on the dark side now and then."

"I am not saying you fall due to this," Skye continued. "Your mentality is certainly too strong for that. But your fear of losing this man, as well as your fear of not being able to save him, will only weigh you down so long as they only remain fears. There are many things you need to understand for you to learn the difference between your fear and the things you have control over. Does that make sense?"

Sarah nodded and looked back up at Skye. "I want to save him. I want to have control over this, to change the fate he’s being submitted to.”

“That is a desire you need to let go of,” Skye said.

“I can’t,” Sarah sobbed. “I already lost someone because I didn't do enough to help him. I don't want that to happen again… Though I daresay it already did. I blew my own cover, I failed because of myself. It was all my fault."

Skye leaned forward on her chair and looked as if she was gazing directly at Sarah's soul. "And whoever told you it was your fault?"

Sarah was caught off guard. She hesitated, and Hunter could tell she knew the answer, but she couldn't emit it. It was then that Skye leaned back on her chair.

"Only you," she said. "You concluded that, and that's hurting you. You are a very strong, wise being, Sarah, and you have incredible power, but you are not all powerful. There are things you cannot control, nor should you seek to control."

"How will I know?"

Skye smiled, emitting an air of serenity only a sage could have. "There is one fundamental principle you need to understand to move forward. Go into the Kyber Crystal caves. Take your Guardian with you. After that, you will be who you need to be to continue on your path."

Sarah bowed in gratitude before standing back up; Hunter noticed her wiping tears from her eyes as she did. As she exited the room, her parents went to her to give her one more hug before leaving.

"Promise you'll spend the night here," her mom said.

"I'm sure we will," Sarah replied. "In fact, the rest of my friends are already in my hut."

"Good," said her mom, and then she faced Hunter. "Please, protect her."

"I will," Hunter replied, crossing his fist over his heart. Sarah's father, who hadn't spoken, offered his hand to Hunter. They grasped each other's forearms in a traditional salute, and Hunter and Sarah walked back to the hallways of the temple.

She knew the way to the caves, so she led the way. They remained silent most of the time, but Hunter still had a question gnawing inside him.

"So... you guys hold the concept of Guardian in high regard here?"

"Very," Sarah answered. "It's really traditional around here. I was actually a bit shocked when Chirrut called you that, but it's fitting. Still, it's... it's more formal than simply saying you're a Guardian now."

"Meaning?"

Sarah stopped walking and looked up at Hunter. A blush was barely visible on her cheeks, but Hunter could see it with ease.

"Meaning... you actually have to manifest it and give your oath," she explained. "It's very similar to a marriage proposal, but it doesn’t necessarily end in marriage, just your oath to protect the other person," she rushed through that last sentence.

"But... Chirrut said we already have that bond."

"Yes, but…” Sarah trailed off. “You've never asked it properly."

Hunter couldn't help but chuckle. "And, hypothetically, how does one manifest and give his oath?"

Sarah smiled, and her blush darkened. She looked so adorable to Hunter in that state. "Whatever you say to give your oath is valid so long as you mean it."

The loud echo of a door closing in the distance distracted them both, trailing their attention to one of the windows nearby.

"It's getting dark," Sarah said, back to her usual demeanor. "We should head for the cave."

"I'm following you," Hunter said.

They stopped by the hut briefly to tell the others what they'd be up to, and then Sarah led Hunter into the entrance of the caves. Unlike those on Kashyyyk, these caves were already lit by torches and gleaming Kyber crystals, and there were no hostile creatures lurking around them.

But despite the safety, Sarah stumbled to a stop as Hunter went in before her, and it wasn’t long before he noticed she wasn’t following him. He turned around; his heart sank when he saw that the charm and blush from their previous talk had faded, and the look of utter regret had returned to her eyes. His gaze met hers, begging her to tell him something, anything.

“Hunter…”

His gaze was soft on her as he walked back and took her hands. “What is it?”

“I can’t go into that cave with you,” she admitted. “Not without first… I–I need to tell you…”

Against her will, her eyes welled with tears and she began to sob. Hunter’s alarm at seeing her cry prompted him to throw his arms around her, but Sarah pulled away, barely bringing herself to look at him.

“I betrayed you, Hunter,” she wailed. “When I was on Kamino, I was unfaithful to you. I slept with Crosshair.”

Hunter sighed and held her tighter. “Sarah, please… Don’t cry…”

He pulled her in closer, his arms fully wrapping around her as he allowed her head to rest on his shoulder and tried to still her trembling with his strong grip.

“I know,” Hunter said quietly. “I already knew, but I don’t care.”

“Don’t say that, Hunter,” Sarah buried her face in his shoulder. “Don’t let yourself believe that you don’t care.”

“You could have died, Sarah” Hunter’s voice broke, squeezing her more. “I could have lost you. That would have been unbearable.”

“Hunter…”

“I don’t care that you slept with Crosshair,” Hunter pulled back enough to look Sarah in the eyes.

“You do,” she denied. “You do and you should. I know you’ve always felt it, you said it yourself, and I know it hurts you. You’re just too kind and selfless to say anything, but it isn’t fair to you.”

“I knew it was going to happen,” Hunter said. “When you woke me up that night just before you left, I knew what would happen if you went for Crosshair. And I let you. I let you go, Sarah.”

Her crying finally quieted down, but she still sniffled and shook, not baring to look at Hunter even while he lovingly cupped her cheek.

“When I saw you in that Y-Wing with that wound across your chest, I…” Hunter trailed off. “I knew nothing else mattered. I just want you, Sarah. I need you to be safe, to be happy, whatever it takes. I’m only mad I wasn’t there with you, that I didn’t protect you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, I insisted on going alone. And that still doesn’t make it right,” she whispered. “It doesn’t erase my mistake, my betrayal.”

“Sarah,” his deep, gravelly voice sounded sweet when he spoke her name, bringing her colorful irises to look at him. “You don’t need my forgiveness.”

“I do, Hunter!” She cried. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry—!”

“Then you have my forgiveness,” he comforted. “You’re with me now, you’re alive, and you’re safe. That’s all I care about.”

Another tear rolled down her cheek. “How can you be so forgiving with me?”

Hunter softly smiled at her. “I love you, Sarah.”

Before she could sob again, Sarah leaned in for another warm embrace in Hunter’s arms. There was no feeling quite like resting in that strong frame of his, enveloped perfectly by him like a weapon in its case.

“I love you too, Hunter.”

And as they stood there, she felt safe. Some of the weight that had been on her had lifted, even if things were by no means fixed, or even set in the right track yet.

With a shaky breath, Sarah pulled away, her hands firmly holding Hunters as her body slowly ceased to tremble.

“Then I’m ready,” she said.

Sarah knew her way around and soon the two arrived at a large bulb within the cave system. From the looks of the carvings and lighting in it, Hunter could assume it was often used for ceremonies and rituals. The markings on the floor were similar to those on Sarah's body, and they all glistened a bright purple color; they led to the center, where a spiral glowed the same way on the ground.

"I have to step in the middle..." Sarah told Hunter. She looked up at him reassuringly, gently caressing his forearms while kissing him softly on the lips. "You should probably stay here."

Hunter nodded at her as she let go of him and walked over to the center. The moment she arrived, the glowing of the floor and the other crystals scattered along the cave began glowing even brighter, and it seemed as if the rest of the place had darkened.

"The manifestation of the universe itself," spoke a sovereign female voice, filling all the space around them. "You hold turmoil. You hold regret. You hold fear. What is it that brings you here?"

Sarah somberly looked up at the cave. "I... I want to heal. I want to save Crosshair. I want to know how."

"Much doubt you have, it has blinded you."

"I'm afraid so," said Sarah. "I have no clue what I have to do to make things better."

Inside the cave, a breeze began to swirl around Sarah. It went from being wind to a form of energy that began closing itself around her body. From the edge of the bulb, Hunter watched as Sarah's marks and eyes began to glow of multiple colors. Sarah let out a sharp gasp and her body tumbled back, only to be supported by that same rush of energy. Hunter's instinct was to run to her, but the wall of wind stopped him.

"She will be safe, Guardian,” the voice spoke to him. “Trust her. Trust in the Force that binds you."

The whirlpool of wind and energy seemed to calm down, levitating Sarah’s body at the center of the spiral while she continued to glow, her hair flowing as if she were under water.

"The power of Umbara that you harnessed to heal once is a perfect example of that which you must know, Moonstrider."

"Not all that is light will always be good, not all that is dark will always be evil."

"Knowing this, you now know what you need to know."

As the voice faded, so did the wall of wind and energy, and Sarah slowly started to come back down with her eyes closed, and Hunter knew that it was the time to rush to her.

With nothing stopping him, he reached the center of the cave and took Sarah in his arms before she reached the ground, and her eyes gently fluttered open. He looked at her and gasped softly as he saw the marks on her body had changed.

They looked the way they used to when he'd met her, but the color was now a rich, sapphire blue. The lines were fine and delicate, and there were even new additions in the form of swirls and lace-like patterns beautifully framing her eyes and forehead that had also expanded on more areas of her arms, the backs of her hands, and her torso. And the redness that had lingered on her chest due to the blast wound had disappeared, returning her skin to its natural color now that the wound had healed.

"Hunter?" She spoke softly.

Hunter hugged Sarah tightly, relieved that the festival of colors had returned to her eyes. Sarah looked at him, confused.

"I..." she said. "I feel better. I feel healed, but... I'm still not certain. I still don't have an answer."

"Sarah," Hunter gently brushed her hair off her face. "Remember what the voice told you. You know what you need to know. Keep it in mind, alright? Maybe the answers won't come to you as affirmations. You'll know them when the time is right."

Sarah smiled softly at Hunter and she squeezed his hands with hers. "Thanks..."

"Sarah..." he spoke her name again, this time softer than ever. "I'm always going to be there for you. I've sworn to protect you even with my final breaths."

"Hunter,” her gaze widened in realization. “Are you—"

"I'm in love with you. Every fiber of my body belongs to you now and I want to spend the remainder of my days making sure you're safe and warm. Sarah, I'm giving you my oath as your Guardian, if you will accept it," he finished.

Her face lit up with a smile and joyful tears formed in her eyes, sitting upright in his arms.

"Yes," she sighed. "Yes, Hunter, I accept your oath."

After Hunter had poured his heart out to her, the two shared an intimate kiss as they embraced with all their strength, with only the cave, the crystals, and the Force itself bearing witness, as now they both had what they needed to continue on their path.

They emerged from the cave when the sun had already set, and the sea of stars on the Jedhan sky that Sarah talked to Omega about greeted them in all its glory. Hand in hand, Hunter followed Sarah’s lead as she took him back to her old hut; they’d expected to meet everybody else there, but they were gone.

With her intuition, Sarah got the feeling Chirrut had led them elsewhere, granting them other spaces to sleep—an intuition that, given their official bond, Hunter could pick up on.

Hunter closed the hut as Sarah walked in farther. Inside, warm-toned lights illuminated the cozy room, adding to its emotional value for her as she brushed her fingers over toys and statues that had been there since she was little.

“Sarah,” Hunter called her attention.

He felt his body go warm when she looked at him; she looked tired, but in a far better state than she had been when they’d arrived at Jedha, and he was still getting used to her marks being sapphire blue instead of black.

She looked beautiful.

Sarah grinned and turned away with a bashful blush. “Hunter, you’ll make me fluster.”

Hunter gave her one of his smoother smiles in return, one that he knew would make her weak in the knees.

“Perhaps that’s what I want,” he said as he walked up to her and took her hands again, facing her.

They stared each other in the eyes, and Hunter slid his hands onto Sarah’s waist, bare as the bandages were still the only thing that covered her upper body. He watched her eyes flutter shut as she felt his light touch on her skin, and as she sank into the moment, she brushed her hands up his chest until they rested on his broad shoulders.

Hunter chuckled. “You’re lovely.”

She giggled softly as he took a hand to cup her jaw, his brown eyes looking into hers with gentle desire as he slowly lowered himself to kiss her lips. Sarah kissed him back without question and wrapped her arms around him, arching her back to press herself more onto Hunter’s body. Absently, his hand on her lower back moved down, just enough for it to fiddle with her armor��s belt, the only thing that secured what still covered her legs.

Hunter began to tug on it, but with a gasp, Sarah pulled back, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Now?” She stammered.

Hunter wouldn’t deny that she already had him feeling lustful. They’d just sealed an important bond, they knew how much they loved each other, they were alone together in the night, in private, behind closed doors. Hunter had wanted her since he’d first laid his gaze on her on Anaxes; he couldn’t breathe without wanting to be beside her, to take in her scent, have her fill every one of his enhanced senses.

But he held back, and slowly, he began to let go of her.

“We don’t have to,” he said. “If you want to rest—”

“No,” she cut him off, pulling him back in. “I want to, Hunter. I want you.”

He took it as enough of a signal to finally drown in her. Hunter kissed her lips, finally without having to hold back any of his desire the way he’d always had to hold back before. They’d never been truly in private, always with others in a room, or the same building. This was the first time Hunter had Sarah all to himself, and he’d make the most of it without a second thought.

They were equally matched in the strength with which they kissed each other, fierce and fiery, loving with only a tint of desperation for one another. As he pushed Sarah onto the bed, Hunter swiftly removed her belt and threw aside every last bit of imperial plastoid that still clung to her. When she was splattered on the bed, with her hair fanning around her head, Hunter carefully—but not with any less desire—removed the bandages that covered her torso, until finally she was naked under him.

Hunter trailed his eyes over every marking of her body, every intricate tattoo that highlighted her bond to the Force, as well as the scar at the center of her chest.

His focus was only broken when he felt her hand on his waist, and she too began to tug at the armor that covered him. Bit by bit, Hunter removed the plastoid and his body glove until he was naked too, and now he felt Sarah’s gaze on him, taking in every scar he had as well as the skeleton tattoo that continued down the left side of his body.

She brushed her hand over his chest, her fingers delicately treading over the hair on his skin, her touch making him shiver. Hunter watched as Sarah’s gaze traveled along the trail of hair that led down to his cock, her jaw dropping at the sight of how big and hard it was.

But Hunter couldn’t focus on his own ego at the moment. His sights were set between Sarah’s legs where her folds already gleamed with her arousal, the slick which he could already smell. His gaze darkened, his pupils dilated as he lowered his knees to the ground at the foot of the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he gently parted her thighs, and as he made his way down, Sarah took a hand to his hair to rid him of the bandana, setting his curls loose.

She wanted to praise him on how beautiful he looked with his hair falling gracefully down the sides of his face, but she could only look at him that way for so long before Hunter, void of rationality, dove in and buried his face in Sarah’s cunt, his tongue broadly brushing over her folds, taking in as much of her taste as he possibly could. Every hair on his body stood on end at the sound of Sarah moaning; her ecstatic voice somehow made her taste better.

Hunter pressed himself as much as he could to her. His arms went around Sarah’s butt and held her waist from above, keeping her still even when she wanted to squirm with the liquid heat that pooled between her legs. Hunter licked slow and fast, from her entrance to the pearl of her clit, up and down, he even slipped his tongue down her entrance.

She tasted better than he ever could have imagined, sweeter and more exotic than the rarest of fruits in the galaxy. Every noise she made only aroused Hunter further, making him moan and growl into her tender flesh, only heightening the bliss she felt. Sinking further into ecstasy, Hunter began to rut his hips onto the bed, desperate to feel more, capable of making himself reach his climax just by eating her out.

When she was on the very edge, Sarah fisted Hunter’s luscious black curls with her hand and tugged with the slightest strength, but the gesture held an immense lust, it had Hunter seeing white. Not long after, Sarah moaned louder, her voice bordering on screams of utter pleasure that she tried and failed to control. Her entire body squirmed, stopped by Hunter’s grip on her, as his tongue moved faster and faster on her clit.

He couldn’t think, much less speak; Hunter could know no sobriety when it came to tasting her, to feeling her getting wetter on his lips and watching her quiver because of him.

Being on his knees in front of her seemed a fitting position, one where he could worship that woman, bring her pleasure and heat and anything she so desired, whether it was his body or the stars, he would bring it to her.

But as he grunted and panted into her skin, absently planting kisses to her clit, Sarah’s delicate hand tilted his chin up to look at her. She led him up to the bed, both of them kissing as she pushed against him and rolled him over so that now Hunter’s back rested flat on the bed.

Hunter was just beginning to make more sense of the world when he saw her climbing on him and straddling, slowly sliding herself down his cock, a deep, silky moan dripping from her lips as she reached the base of his shaft.

“Fuck…” Hunter groaned, his head thrown back onto the pillows as she began rocking her hips against him.

A series of low, breathy moans left him, their pace in tandem with Sarah’s hips; one of his hands fisted the covers of the mattress while the other one traveled up her thigh, found rest on the rich flesh of her ass before he trailed it up more to gently knead at her breast as she rode him. Eventually, his other hand left the mattress and went to massage her other breast, hanging onto her that way until he held her hips and aided in her thrusting, increasing her pace until they were both on the edge of climax again.

Mustering his strength, Hunter sat up, only wanting to feel closer to Sarah. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and the new angle somehow made her feel fuller inside, the friction even sweeter than before. Hunter used his hips to grind in and out of her; they looked each other in the eyes, both only resorting to whimpers and moans to convey how much they would desire each other for as long as they lived.

The tingling began to expand through Sarah’s body, rendering her moans into tiny mewls, announcing her next climax.

“Cum with me,” Hunter groaned. “Fuck, I wanna fill you up…”

“Hunter…” she moaned, the sound alone nearly throwing him over the edge.

“I wanna cum inside you,” he admitted as his hands traveled to her upper back, wrapping her in an embrace.

“Do it,” she whimpered. “Fill me up, Hunter…”

Hunter ran his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head, his forehead resting on hers while they were both as close as they could possibly be to one another. He thrust harder and faster into her until, at the same time, they reached the peaks of their pleasure, moaning each other’s names out with every wave of their orgasms. Hunter tightened his arms around Sarah when he finally felt ropes of cum shooting out of his cock, filling her up the way he’d been aching to do.

As his body relaxed, Hunter lay back on the bed bringing Sarah along with him, with her head resting on his chest. He could hear his heartbeat and hers racing, until after some time lying still on the bed, their paces slowed back down to normal.

Absently, Hunter’s fingers traced along the patterns of Sarah’s marks on her arms, her back, even gently along her face. He paid attention to her heartbeat and soon heard it slowing down more, marking her as sleeping.

Hunter chuckled to himself; how beautiful could she be even while doing the smallest things?

He brought himself back to consciousness and gently rested her body beside him, draping the bed’s covers over her body and himself. Lying behind her, Hunter wrapped himself around Sarah, holding her close to him, so that perhaps, when she woke up, she would do so engulfed in Hunter’s warmth, feeling his bare skin against hers as he embraced her after a long adventure that had ultimately ended in his loving, protective grip.

He was her Guardian now, and he’d live up to that.

Taglist: @zoeykallus @sageislostinspring @misogirl828 @dangerousstrawberrypie @salaminus @ladykatakuri @seriowan @rain-on-kamino @prozacspice @eyecandyeoz

Thank you for reading!

#moonstrider writes #the moonwalker series #tbb hunter smut #oc sarah adhara #tbb hunter x oc #sergeant hunter x oc #tbb fanfic #tbb smut #the bad batch smut #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter

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ghostmacandcheese · 2 years

Text

*quick authors note before we begin*

(Hello! I hope you like this fanfic. It’s going to be six chapters, that way i can put a good amount of detail into the story. It isn’t a Y/N reader, as the main character does have a name, and if it seems strange or annoying the way the conversations flow or the way things are described, sorry, thats just how i think and react to things. While most of the stuff in this is false, obviously, there will be a note at the end of each chapter letting you guys know what was actually real from personal experiences! Hope you all enjoy, i know i had a lot of fun writing this! Also, there’s parts where it seems like the character is talking to herself, and thats because she is, and i had it written in italics originally to differentiate, but tumblr didn’t like that so now you have to figure it out yourself, sorry.)

Summery: you meet Steven in the museum gift shop and become fast friends, and maybe something even more!

Pairing: just Steven x female reader

Warnings: some swearing, being the family disappointment, sleep disorders

Genre: fluff, meet-cute, friends to lovers

Heaven help the fools chapter 1

Chapter 1: strange strangers

I walked up to the gift shop counter of the British Museum, clutching a metal puzzle pyramid, a book on the curse of King Tut, and a plush Taweret, the hippo goddess. The man behind the register looks on the verge of passing out, his eyes barely open, lips slightly parted, curly hair messily resting on his forehead. As I stand there, unsure of what to do now that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know I'm even standing there, I look at him more closely. He’s got lovely cheekbones and a great facial structure. I'm tempted to pull out my phone to take a reference photo. He’d make a great portrait. Those eyelashes and brows are stunning.

I find myself staring at him, my critical artist's eye going into a frenzy at this absolutely beautiful man standing before me.It takes a second to realize he’s now fully conscious and staring back at me, a quiet curiosity playing in his eyes. Wow, his eyes. They’re so soft. They have such warmth in them like they’re staring into me. Wait… staring-h-he’s awake!! Shit! He just saw me staring at him! Quick, think!

“H-hi! I…um, I didn’t mean to stare, I just… wasn’t sure if you were awake?” God, even I could tell what a terrible lie that was. I really need to stop staring at beautiful people.

“Oh, it's ok. I just feel bad I didn’t know you were there. I've been noddin off all day, haven’t gotten a wink of sleep in the last month, don't know why.” He chuckled to himself, cheeks slightly pink. Hmmm. He gets embarrassed easily. Adorable.

I didn’t really know what to say, so I just stood there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting for him to ring up my items so I could leave and then promptly die from embarrassment. It took me a minute to realize why he was still staring at me until I looked down and saw I had all my stuff still in my arms. Why? Why today of all days do I decide to act like a complete fool? And why is it always in front of men that are totally my type? Can I, for just once, get it together, please? I feel my cheeks turn bright red, and I get even more embarrassed, turning an even brighter red.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to forget to put my things up, I just forgot I was holding them, heh.” You figured he wouldn’t believe you, and just nod along like most people, because how could someone forget they were holding something they just went to pay for? I mean-

“No, it's alright, the other day I had a terrible nightmare and jumped out of bed, forgetting I had my leg restraint on and ended up falling right on my face. My nose was purple for days.” He chuckled to himself again, and then we both sat there in silence for a minute or two, letting that sentence just rest. Then he started turning bright red.

“I-i mean- heh, I don't- ehhh” he looked around frantically, looking for something, anything, to break the awkward silence left by that last statement.

“Hey, don't even think of it. I tell one of my coworkers on a regular basis how easy it would be to kill her and everyone thinks I’m a psychopath when it's really just my way of saying that I care about her, so I guess we're both weird.” I look up and smile at him, watching some of the worry leave his eyes and fill with a slight bit of humor, and a little concern.

“Besides,” I chuckle, picking at one of my nails, “it's not like I have anyone to tell your deep, dark secret to, I have no friends.” He picks up the book, hippo, and pyramid puzzle and places them in the bag, telling me my total.

“Well, I don't have any friends either, so I guess your murderous ways are safe with me as well.” He looks up at me with a small smile, and I can see a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. God, he is beautiful. I smile as I take my bag, telling him to leave the receipt. I turn to walk out, but he catches me before I take another step.

‘Wait, wait... I don't know your name!” he looks worried, like if I walk through the door, he'll never see me again. I smile at the ground, blushing slightly.

“Oh, my name's Ophelia. Ophelia Jane. a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I-I’m steven. With a V. grant. S-steven grant.” he coughs and shuffles his feet, embarrassed.

“Well, Steven with a V, I'll see you around, ya?” I give a small wave.

“Y-yeah, I'll be seeing you I guess.” he laughs nervously and waves back at me one last time before I leave, ready to head home for the day.

I sit in the back row of the bus, only half paying attention to the stops that are made along the way. With my traveling playlist blasting in my ears, I allow my mind to wander, absentmindedly humming along to the songs playing.

As I watch the city flash by through the window, one song fades out and is replaced by the next, Snaggletooth by Vance Joy.

ah, I love this song. My mind travels through all that happened today and stops to rest on Steven. Sweet steven. I don't think I've ever met another person that I've talked to so easily. I could sit and listen to him talk forever. He's got such a gentle voice, and it's so relaxing. And his lips, he's got such a beautiful cupid's bow and great cheekbones. And that five o’clock shadow and curly, unkempt hair. It looks soft, I would love to play with it. God, I bet he smells amazing, like incense and warm sunlight and old books and coffee. Imagine hugging him? Imagine falling asleep next to him? Ooooh, imagine-SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT THIS IS OUR STOP GET OFF QUICK NOW! I quickly scramble my stuff together, muttering to myself as I get off at my stop. “Wow, pervert, you really almost just missed your stop over a man you met ONCE IN A GIFT SHOP! This isn't a freaking fanfic, get it together!” I ran across the street to my building, just missing the rain that was about to fall.

Terry, the building guy, just looked up at me as I walked in, and I hopped in the lift, getting off at the 3rd floor.

Turning to the first door on the right, I pull out my key and swing open the door to survey the kingdom that is my flat.

I flip on the light and put my bags down on my already full table in the kitchen. A crappy place to live, but it's better than nothing. I get a small cooktop, an even smaller fridge, and my incredibly cluttered table in the far right, closest to the door, and in the left corner was my bathroom, with my bed in the back, desk by the window in the back right corner, and small tv and bean bag chairs in the somewhat center of the room. “Home sweet home,” I mutter as I kick off my flats, walking over to the fish tank on my desk.

“Alright, roll call guys, I need to make sure none of you died while I was gone. Let's see here… Morticia, Sally, Lydia, my gothic girls, you’re here, Jester and Harlequin, there you are, Buttercup, got you, Sunshine, still swimming backward like a little freak, hello, and lastly, my beautiful snail queen, pearl. How are all of you? Here,” I get them a sprinkle of food. “You get your dinner, now I get to shower and grab mine.” I go to my wardrobe and grab my favorite leggings and oversized shirt, and take a steaming hot shower, ready to crash from the long day I had.

*end authors not*

And thats the end of chapter one! I hope you guys liked it, i sure had fun writing it! As promised, here are things that are real about me that i put into this story because i can.

1) those fish are my fish, those are all they’re names. They’re now tumblr famous.

2) all the music mentioned, while not much, are songs that I listen to and LOVE.

3) i do indeed threaten my coworker with her own demise, but i do it out of love, and she knows it, so its ok.

4) i do actually talk to myself like this. I find it highly amusing, so i decided to put it in. I don’t care if anyone else finds it funny or not.

5) the only reason i think steven would smell like incense is because I LOVE the smell of incense.

6) i stare at people that i think are pretty because they have aesthetically pleasing faces and want to draw them. I can’t help it.

7) i have actually had stuff in my hands and forgot it was there. I am dory in human form.

#moon knight #steven grant #fanfic #x reader #steven grant x reader #meet cute #mcu #moon knight fanfiction #marvel #my fanfiction #x female reader #fluff #mcu fluff #mcu x reader #read more

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autisticandroids · 3 years

Note

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

#spn #asks #anonymous #mpregpocalypse

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abumbledbee · 3 years

Text

Tubbo and Wilbur’s Parallels

tw/ mentions of death / suicidal ideations

“If I can’t become the next Schlatt, then you can’t become the next Wilbur.”

This is a quote from Tubbo, given just before the exile arc began, when he was arguing with Tommy. Tommy accused him of acting like Schlatt because he was putting the nation's needs before him. Tubbo, offended at the comparison, reminds Tommy that he is acting irrationally, and is reminding Tubbo of Wilbur.

When we speak of parallels between Tubbo and Tommy with Schlatt and Wilbur, we’re often inclined to compare Tubbo with Schlatt, because they worked together so closely during Schlatt’s reign, and the complicated relationship between them which ultimately ended up with Schlatt having Tubbo lose a canon life for his betrayal. And due to Tommy and Wilbur's close relationship before and up to Wilbur's betrayal, it's easy to draw comparisons between them as well.

But I think we often overlook a lot of similarities between Tubbo and Wilbur that are worth delving into more, and the farther Tubbo goes with his character the more comparisons I keep catching. At this point I think Tubbo's character parallels Wilbur's far more than Tommy's does.

Wilbur was the founder of L’Manberg, and its first president. It’s a nation he built from the ground up, which started as nothing more than a front for his drug lab but grew into something bigger and more meaningful than Wilbur ever planned for. While on the server he found love (?) and had a child, Fundy, and then things began to get rocky as they fought for their independence against Dream.

Ultimately Wilbur fails to protect L’Manberg and their independence is bought by way of Tommy sacrificing his discs in return. Wilbur ends up losing his country by way of being exiled when Schlatt wins office, and we watch his descent into madness as he realizes how much he cared for the country and how no matter what he does, what it once was is gone forever in his eyes. The Pogtopia arc originated with Wilbur trying to come up with a plan to secure his presidency again and to reclaim his country. It ends with Wilbur refusing his original role and ultimately destroying the very thing he created along with himself because he couldn’t bear to see what it or himself had become.

In Wilbur’s darkest moments we see them play out on screen, his button room is one of the most iconic scenes we got during this period of the storyline. Wilbur in an enclosed space, surrounded by the signs reminding him of what L’Manberg once was and what it would never be again. He's hounded by his thoughts, his mental state shattered and he no longer believes there's any other course of action.

Ultimately this is his final resting place, the room where he sets off the TNT that destroys L’Manberg for the first time. He begs his father, who had just arrived to the server because he was worried when Wilbur stopped sending him letters, to kill him. And Phil does.

L’Manberg’s story does not end here, despite what Wilbur did. It begins again, with Tubbo and a crater. We talk about Tubbo being president of L’Manberg as though he was just taking on the role and a nation the way Schlatt did, but in reality, he founded it again. Tubbo, along with Phil and others, REBUILT an entire city on the rubble of its former life. Tubbo’s L’Manberg is in fact nothing like Wilbur’s, except for the parts Tubbo purposely recreated, like the camar van.

The major difference in their takes on presidency is that Tubbo did this for Tommy, for Wilbur, for the original citizens. He took on the role of President out of duty to Wilbur who passed it down to him when he felt unfit to rule again. He did his best on behalf of everyone who fought on Pogtopia's side, to reclaim a nation they all had lost. In the end he lost it one final time, chunk errored by way of Phil, Techno, and Dream.

And from here on we see a new Tubbo. The bright-eyed, president-elect is no more, and instead he begins to isolate himself from the main server. He retreats to a snowy biome separated by water, and builds a house and gives it a name. Snowchester. Now, most people wouldn't give just a house a name. Even from the start Tubbo was creating a new community, without even realizing. Eventually Snowchester grew to be a legitimate colony of its own, with Jack Manifold, Foolish, and Puffy all moving in and setting up shop. He declares independence, and in doing so, decides he must ensure it any way possible. He's seen what happened to Wilbur's L'Manberg, how helpless the other man was in keeping it safe. He knows he failed his own L'Manberg, and he will not let it happen again.

He hatches a plan with Jack, and the answer is.... Nukes. A bomb, in other words. But instead of using it to destroy his nation, it'll be used to protect it. Tubbo designs it, and they ensure it works with a test launch before decommissioning the remaining two. Time passes and eventually, he's opening up to people again. Tubbo marries Ranboo and they adopt a child together.

Suddenly it's not just Tubbo, it's Tubbo and Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael, and then Tommy is gone. It's shocking, and unexpected, and he doesn't believe it at first. He's been so beaten down under Schlatt's regime he no longer openly shows his emotions, the closest we get to seeing his true grief during this time is when he stares at the memorial he just finished for Tommy in Snowchester. Then comes the anger.

He wants to know how this could've happened, he tries to investigate it, but before he can get too deep into it, Tommy's back. Revived, and Tubbo has had to experience losing him and gaining him back again twice now. Inevitably, like with most of Tommy's plans, Tubbo is roped into his next one. And it's a doozy. Tommy reveals that he wants to kill Dream, to ensure he can never revive anyone else, and Tubbo reluctantly accepts.

One of the most troubling moments during his investigative time was when he made a room for him to fill with his notes and evidence. At first glance it is deeply reminiscent of Wilbur's button room, the walls covered in signs and his lectern in the middle of the room mimicking the button. Because Tommy returns before he can get further in his investigating we'll likely never see this room again, but seeing him make it to begin with filled me with unease.

Tubbo has lost his fear of death. It's first noticed at Doomsday, when he defeatedly jumped in front of Techno's rocket launchers over and over again. We see inklings of it again and again, such as when he scoffs at his chat begging him not to investigate Techno for the TNT at the prison, saying he'd die. Tubbo just replies with "So be it." and continues on. We see it again when he and Ranboo investigate the Eggpire and get caught, and he continues to fight with them until he's only got a few hearts left. He mentions feeling exhilarated, full of life from almost losing his last. It's a reminder of the violent life he's had til this point, his time in the SMP filled with war and bloodshed since the very beginning. He's not afraid to fight despite being on his last life, in fact at times he seems almost ready to end it all.

Yesterday's lore stream was unsettling in a few different ways. The first being Tubbo casually mentioning how his eyes play tricks on him. It's a throwaway mention towards possible hallucinations or paranoia. He also refers to himself as paranoid later on when he's worried someone's hurt Michael, and it bothers him so bad that the next minute he rushes over to ensure Michael is safe. He is willing to do whatever he must now, to ensure Michael can grow up safely, much like Wilbur wanted for Fundy, with no Dream to terrorize the server any longer.

Wilbur's initial wish for L'Manberg once it was fully formed was for it to be a nation his son could grow up safely in, with all the possibilities at his fingertips, until their independence was threatened and he had to focus on leading an army instead of being a father.

But even more upsetting than that, is Tubbo's admission to how he designed the nuke. He tells Jack after one is stolen that there is a manual detonation option, a dead man's switch. He designed the bomb to have a suicidal solo detonation option as a last resort, so if he ever needed to use it and Jack wasn't there he could take matters into his own hands. Tubbo was so ready to ensure if something happened to his self-made colony he could deal his revenge even at the cost of his final life. His reasoning for making the nukes was not for self-defense, it was so he could finally take a swing back at whoever took from him again. He'd seen L'Manberg destroyed twice by people who initially sided with it, had 2 canon lives ripped from him by way of betrayals. He might not have thorns on his armor but by god will his death have them, and heaven help whoever is on the receiving end of his suicide-start nuke.

This mimics Wilbur's final steps but from the logical, more level-headed mind of Tubbo. He's created a bomb, a weapon of destruction he's willing to die with. Wilbur wanted to die with L'Manberg, Tubbo is willing to die for Snowchester.

#tubbo #wilbur #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #c!tubbo #meta #character analysis #trigger warning #tw #suicidal ideations #mentions of death #dream smp #vilbur #tommyinnit #ranboo #jack manifold

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

Congrats on the milestone Patricia!!!!! You deserve it, I’m so so happy for you!🥺🥺

May I request “I thought you were dead…” and “I waited and waited, but you never came back” for Oberyn, perhaps? Give me angst 😈😈😈

Hello, my love! You want angst? You get angst!

Oberyn x Fem!Reader ; warnings: mentions of death

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh left his lips as sweat trickled down his brow, and his chest, quickly absorbed by the thick fabric of his golden tunic. He raised the almost empty water bottle to his lips and downed the rest of it. He cursed himself for not coming more well prepared for making this trek in his damned heat.

But then he heard it, softly, and gently and from a slight distance, but he knew exactly what it was. Your laughter - it was forever ingrained in his mind, one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He would never forget it. But why in the heavens you wanted to move to this forsaken place he would never know. It was one of the hottest stretches of Dorne, and almost completely secluded, save for the nearby small villages.

He shuffled closer and closer, his feet slipping into the hot sand and slowing down his trek. But Oberyn was many things, including a stubborn man, and he kept pushing. Pushing and pushing through as his sole goal was you. Surely you’d be happy to see him after all this time, right? He was your lover and you were his - you’d had him heart and soul, easily wrapped around your finger.

But just before your modest home came into view, he heard a new sound, a different one. One that made him stop dead in his tracks.

“Mama!” it was a small voice, a soft one. Oberyn swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped forward, looking to the yard of your home. Despite being in the middle of the desert, your yard was filled with trees and plants and bushes, all clearly loved and taken care of. His heart caught in his throat as he spotted the small boy, eagerly running back to the wide open door, “Mama! Can I go to the river with my friends?”

“Of course, my sweet one,” you stepped into view, wiping your hands on a rag as the boy wrapped his arms around your waist, “be careful, okay? I don’t want anything going wrong.”

“I’m always careful,” he beamed before running off, his black curls bouncing with each stride. You waved after him, the smile on your features was as blinding and lovely as the day he had met you. You hadn’t seemed to age a day, despite the years that had passed.

Oberyn watched as the small figure disappeared into the distance, his mind spinning wildly with a hundred million thoughts at once. Was he...surely he couldn’t be...but….that little boy had been the spitting image of him.

He never knew...he hadn’t known you’d been with child. He didn’t...know.

Almost as if you sensed some kind of disturbance, you looked up, shielding your eyes from the golden sun as you looked around. After a few moments, you spotted his figure in the distance, a concerned look on your face at the weary man in front of you.

“Hello!” you called out to him, walking to the edge of the gate that surrounded your home. He sucked in a nervous breath as you came closer, waiting for the second you discovered who he was. But as he took a few steps closer, you seemed just as confused, “are you alright? Do you need water - a rest?”

Oberyn’s body was humming with energy as he made his way over to you, barely able to comprehend that you were there - living proof and in the flesh. Surely you would recognize him any second...you had to. Right? Right?

Step by precious step he came closer until he was a few feet in front of you. You studied the man silently, your curiosity piqued as you realized that somehow he looked oddly familiar. His chest tightened and felt constricted as he eagerly anticipated your reaction. But you just titled your head to the side and regarded him curiously.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, "do you want to come inside and cool down?"

You motioned for him to follow, wondering momentarily if he was mute or if he was in some sort of shock. Oberyn was rooted in his spot, unable to move. Before you could turn around to see if he was following, you heard him speak. You heard your name - whispered softly, reverently.

"Sunshine…" no. No, no, no. It couldn't be, surely you were mistaken. There was only one person in the entire world that had ever called you that.

And he was dead. Long dead - you watched him die.

Slowly turning around, you breathed in deeply, your chest rising and falling anxiously as you met the man's eyes. There was a nervous expression on his face as you walked back over to him.

"What did you say?" your voice was already shaking, trembling and cracking with every word, "what did you call me?"

"Sunshine," he whispered it softly as you shook your head, eyes already burning and stinging with tears.

"No," you insisted, "you...you aren't...why would you call me that? You don't know me…"

"I do," he whispered as the tears spilled over and ran down your cheeks. He extended his hand, moving to wipe away your tears, but you flinched out of his touch, bringing an ache to his chest, "sweet girl, you know me."

"Please," you whispered softly, "I don't know you… I-I-I don't know you."

"But you do. You know my name - you know me…"

"I don't."

"Sunshine-"

"No!" you snapped harshly as you glared at him, "there was only one man that ever called me that - the only one that was ever allowed to. Do not think yourself worthy of doing such a thing!"

"What was his name?" he asked, his brown eyes softening as you refused to speak.

"Don't you dare!"

"Say it," he insisted, "what was his name?"

"Please don't do this…"

"Say my name, Sunshine," he whispered, ready to throw himself at your feet and to beg you to say it, for you absolve his sins - anything, "please…"

"Don't…"

"You know me...gods, I wish I could hear you say it one more time…"

"I-I-I thought you were dead, Oberyn," you broke and said it. It was soft, a familiar sound that felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It was a sound you hadn't heard in years, and it brought forth every emotion you'd worked to suppress and forget and keep at bay, "I waited and waited and you never came back. I waited so long - they said you were gone…"

“They thought I was,” he admitted as his face fell at the sight of yours; nothing but grief and sorrow was etched in your features. He wished he could take you and wrap you up in his arms, but how you had pulled away from him, he didn’t want to upset you further - even if it broke his heart, “after everything...they left me at first, left me to rot, but something happened and I woke up again. It was like a miracle; I don’t know what happened or why….but I survived.”

“It’s been six years, Oberyn,” you sniffled as you studied the man in front of you. He was so different from the man you had last seen; he was older, more weary looking, with stray grey hairs infusing into his beard and the curls he had left grow out. Instead of the pristine visage you had known, there were scars on the side of his face, but they didn’t deter from his beauty. If anything else, they all told a story - a story of his death and rebirth.

And yet, he was still the same as he always had been. Soft eyes, honeyed and golden only for you, with the sweetest smile. Oberyn Martell - your Oberyn.

"I know," he agreed gently, "and it took me a long time to get better. I was bedridden and barely able to function for over a year."

"And then…?" you studied him as you tried not to completely have a breakdown at the thought of him helpless and broken.

"I looked for you," he promised answering your unspoken question, "as soon as I got better and was able to. I looked everyday, far and wide, I had people look for you, but none could find you. It was like you had disappeared. Vanished."

"I had to leave," you whispered softly as the tears you had been holding back rolled down your cheeks. There was no point in trying to hold them back - after all this time, the man you had once loved was back. It was like seeing a ghost after all this time. He swallowed thickly before nodding slightly, “I couldn’t stay - not in King’s Landing, not in Sunspear, not around everyone. I couldn’t go back and face everyone, in a place where everything would remind me of you. It was too much, Oberyn. My world ended that day, with you in a pile of blood and ruin. I couldn’t...I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he whispered as he reached up again, slowly and more hesitant, testing to see how far you would let him go. This time, you shy away from his touch, letting him gently touch your cheek and wipe away the tears that didn’t seem to stop, “you did what you had to. Many people would have done the same - I’m not sure I would have done anything differently.”

“There’s...I...I didn’t just leave to protect myself,” you confessed, the words so soft and gentle they were barely audible, but Oberyn heard you loud and clear. You clasped your hands nervously, thinking back to the day you had found out. It was after Oberyn had died - or so you thought. He never knew, and suddenly it felt like a dirty secret. You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Oberyn...I...we...I was with child.”

The Prince found himself unable to speak, the tears and emotion getting stuck in his throat as he nodded; his own eyes grew bleary with tears that threatened to spill over as he brushed a finger along your cheek. A heavy weight felt like it was on your shoulders, but if you knew - if you had any clue he was still alive - you would have found him...you would have told him. He looked at you with soft eyes before pulling you into a hug, unable to stop himself. You hugged him right back, unable to stop yourself, clutching at him as though he was the only thing in the world. Even after all this time, it felt the same as ever, like you had never strayed from his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed a few kisses to the side of your head, “a son?”

“A son,” you reassured him softly, solidifying that the little one he had seen running around earlier had to be his son. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you pulled back and studied his face, cradling it gently in your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you finally had a son, Oberyn. I...I named him Elio. Elio Nymeros Oberyn.”

It felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs as he listened to you; this was everything he could have ever dreamed of, and yet...he hadn’t gotten to experience a single moment of it. Life was cruel that way; it gave and then it took and took and took. Oberyn’s eyes searched yours as he whispered, “for Elia? For me?”

“Of course,” you smiled softly. But before you could say anything yes, some excited shouts and laughter from the distance. It was then that reality set in and you took a step back from Oberyn, as if you suddenly remembered that this, the moment the two of you had just shared, wasn’t real life. No - it felt more like a fever dream.

“Mama!” the little boy was a blur as he excitedly sprinted towards you. Oberyn’s heart was beating wildly as he tried to get a good look at the young boy, your son - his son. He was too preoccupied with the new arrival to notice the other approaching figure, “I was going to go to the river but then I got distracted…”

You ran a hand affectionately through his dark curls, almost speechless at how much he took after Oberyn. Especially now, seeing them side by side, there was no doubt that he was Oberyn’s son. The young boy shied into your skirts as he tugged your arm around him and regarded the Prince in confusion.

“It’s okay, my little love,” you promised him as he made a small sound, “this is...umm..Nymeros.”

Oberyn had to physically stop from sweeping the young boy in a bone crushing hug. He slowly bent down so he was on Elio’s level and held his hand to him, “hi Elio. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” he said shyly, offering up a small smile, and taking Oberyn’s hand, “do you know my Mama and Papa?”

“I…” Oberyn passed for a moment before looking back at you. Surely...surely he hadn’t heard correctly…

“Oberyn, I-”

“Hello, my loves,” the arrival of another newcomer snapped you both of your daze as you turned to find your husband making his way over to the three of you. Elio’s eyes lit up as he darted away from you and towards the man. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him picking up the young boy and setting him atop his shoulders. He came over to you and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, as you beamed at him; even Oberyn couldn’t deny the glow on your features. He paused for a moment before kissing your lips gently, “hello, my sweetest.”

“Hello to you, dearest husband,” you gave him a soft smile before turning your attention back to Oberyn. The expression on his face was devastating; it was heartbreak personified. Your face pulled into a frown as you sighed lightly, “Jeron, this is...this is…”

“Nymeros,” Oberyn caught your eye, a sad little expression on his face as he held out his hand to your husband, “we...used to know each other, a long time ago, it was almost like another lifetime ago. I was...passing through and thought I recognized her and just wanted to say hello.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeron’s smile was easy as he shook Oberyn’s hand. It was easy to see why you had ended up with a man like him; he had a warm, gentle aura about him, and even Oberyn couldn’t deny his charm. He was a handsome man, tall and thin, with a shock of dark hair and almost black eyes and the most golden skin, with a smile equally as dazzling, “it’s been hot out, you must come in and cool down.”

“Oh no,” Oberyn shook his head, feeling like his heart was breaking a little more with each word, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Please, we insist,” Jeron said as you looked torn, “join us for dinner! Any friend is family and welcome in our home.”

“Perhaps some other time,” Oberyn’s voice almost cracked as he looked between the two of you, finding the young boy already starting to doze off, no doubt ready for a nap, “I actually must get going. I think I’ve already stayed too long.”

“Well, you’re always welcome in our home,” Jeron promised him. He turned to you, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “I’m going to put the little one down for a nap.”

“Of course,” you said softly as he disappeared inside. Oberyn watched you closely for a few moments before a few tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart, but...you didn’t know. You never knew that he was alive or you would have been by his side the entire time.

“Oberyn-”

“Do you love him?” he asked softly as you felt your own tears well up again. You swallowed thickly before nodding slowly - and it was true. Jeron was a good man that you loved more than life itself, just as you once had Oberyn, “and our son. Is he good to our son?”

“He’s an amazing father,” you promised, “he loves Elio so much...he knows he is not his, but it has never stopped him loving him as his own, and Elio doesn’t know any different. He’s raised him since he was a babe.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you dabbed at your eyes, “I am very happy. It took a long time to get there, but I am happy with this life. It is quiet and humble, but I love every day of it.”

“Okay,” Oberyn gave you a teary eyed, tight lipped smile, “that’s all I needed to know. That’s all I ever wanted, Sunshine.”

“Oberyn,” he took a step back and offered you one last nod. You knew what this meant - you knew what he was thinking. You shook your head as your eyes widened, “no, please, Oberyn-”

“Goodbye, Sunshine,” he whispered gently, “I love you always.”

“Please don’t...don’t just go...don’t just leave.”

“My place isn’t here,” he insisted, “but you’re happy, and...our son is happy and healthy. That’s all that matters.”

“No, no, no, please,” you knew it was useless; his mind was made up.

“I must,” he insisted softly, “you will always have my heart. May we meet again in another life, my sweet girl.”

“Oberyn…” it was a soft broken whisper as he slowly turned to walk away. He wanted to look back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he let his tears flow freely as he left, each step breaking his heart bit by bit. It felt like you were losing him all over again, “Oberyn.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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ackerfics · 4 years

Text

edelweiss — levi ackerman.

— levi ackerman x female reader

— warnings: spoilers for season 4 and the good old aot canon-typical violence.

— summary: you pour your unsaid thoughts to levi, only to break a promise that costs you your heart.

— word count: 4.5k

The sea holds so many promises with its sea-green hue that it spreads a chilling wave through your body like the first breath of winter’s snow. The first time you had ever set eyes on such a majestic view, there was still momentary happiness lingering as your comrades splashed each other with its blue waters. It was a symbol of hope and yet it remained a mystery that prevents all of you from knowing what was beyond this thing called the horizon. You remember how you laughed in delight when Hange presented a bizarre creature on their hands, beckoning you to move closer and focus your entire attention on the small unknown thing lying on your best friend’s palms. You remember glorying under the Sun’s ever singing rays, watching them glitter against every small jostle of water at your feet. You remember turning around to face your lover with a bright smile that might have rendered him speechless — fumbling for words when the two of you face each other.

Those moments were timeless.

Minutes spent wading in the sea was the only time you had peace.

You let out a shuddering breath as you brushed your fingers against the gold band decorating your left ring finger. This is no time to be vulnerable. You were a captain for years, for heaven’s sake, even before Levi joined the Survey Corps. The younger soldiers would feel nervous if they see your unnecessary tears. Hastily wiping them from your cheeks, you turned away from the railing separating you from the dreadful vastness of blue that placed you in such a mood and placed a tentative hand on one of the rooms housing your injured husband.

Entering the small room was more stifling than the situation happening around the continent. It would mean seeing Levi in such a state that would always accumulate unshed tears in your eyes. The bandages wrapping his figure only worsened your melancholy and with every step, you pray that he wouldn’t wake up from the cringing creak of the wood paneling of the floor. The room only had one single bed and a convenient chair on the opposite side of the lone furniture. You wasted no time in lifting the chair to place it beside Levi’s bed, seating yourself with pursed lips and clenched fists. The more time you surveyed his battered body, the more your throat burned with the urge to pour out your feelings in the small confines of the room.

With the Rumbling purging the continents beyond Paradis, this was no time to be relishing in old memories.

Yet living in those memories you shared with Levi kept you solid.

Your life wasn’t guaranteed in this last mission. There will always be a possibility that you won’t come home with the rest of the people fighting against the Rumbling and you had to make do of the short amount of time you had with Levi. But a part of you was saying that you had to survive no matter what, to make that dream of opening a tea shop in a small village possible — to give your child the freedom and childhood you had never experienced. That little ray of sunshine that came to both you and Levi in times of hopelessness a year after taking back the lost territory of the Walls. He looked like Levi that it was so hard for you to say goodbye, even if it were only missions for weeks on an unknown land. This time, you didn’t utter a single closure to your son, regret started bubbling in the abyss of your mind and stomach.

And now, you don’t know if you could ever meet with your son again.

Taking Levi’s hand as gently as possible, you took a deep breath.

“If time really was against us, I promise I wouldn’t cry. I promise I wouldn’t wait for you because I know you’ll still be the strongest soldier I have ever known. I am a mere mortal compared to you, Levi, and I fear that this dream of ours will have its last breath.”

A bitter chuckle came out of you as your grip on his hand tightened. The memories were now more vivid than usual — the time you introduced yourself to him and his friends from the Underground, the respect that blossomed between you when he knew you will be his new squad leader, the way he looked after you as your second-in-command, you recommending him in the vacant Captain spot of the Survey Corps, and you giving him a welcoming gift in his new office. Then, the images shifted to when he finally kissed you under the canopy of stars, to when he whispered words of reassurance as your bodies erased every space between you, to when you screamed in Shiganshina that you were pregnant with his child, and to when you started carrying his discovered last name along with the birth of your first son.

“The reason these thoughts tend to cloud my head at this moment was that the memories simply flashed in my mind as I stared at the ocean that I always longed for. Memories we shared that might have been fleeting yet they carry a thousand-fold of emotions coursing through every fiber of my being. Funny how every time we went out on an expedition all those years ago, you always told me to keep safe and come back with a heart that’s still beating for you. As if I would ever stop loving you and set my sights romanticizing the Titans as Hange does. I had realized that you never once accepted that my life could abruptly end with a constant war on our hands.

“Until your tired breath from lack of sleep gradually diminishes, this time, I will be the one to protect you and fight until I will let go of my own heart to sing a song worthy of you.”

“Was that a speech of farewell just now?”

Your eyes flew from your joined hands to the dulled gray irises of the keeper of your heart. Before you know it, tears continuously flowed a stream on your cheeks, your shoulders hunched as sobs racked your body. “I don’t know what came over me, must be the tension brought by the possibility of dying when we haven’t even stopped the Rumbling from erasing the rest of humanity.”

“Hey, look at me,” Levi uttered your name so softly as if he was afraid it would sadden you even more. Placing his left hand on your cheek, he wiped the cascading tear that glistened under the mellow glow of the lantern beside his bed. “You’re not going anywhere. Not when I am still alive with limbs fully intact. Well, except for the fact that I lost two of my fingers.” From that, more tears appeared in his view, flustering him in the slightest. “The point is that I will protect you. This dream with our small family will be forever ingrained in our future. You will always have me looking out for you.”

“But I’m supposed to be the one protecting you now.”

“Are you underestimating me?”

You shook your head, covering his hand with both of yours. You placed a tender kiss that you hoped radiated the unsaid thoughts that could ruin the moment you share with him right now. You wanted him to be a part of humanity’s victory against whatever crazy plan Eren has set his mind on.

“Our little boy is waiting for us to come home,” Levi reminded you after a few minutes of silence (with your occasional sniffles here and there). “Isn’t that enough reason for us to come home alive? Imagining him losing one of us was the one thing I don’t want to happen right now. Promise me.” You love the sound of your name when he says it. Akin to the flowers that seem like they hold all the jewels at the center of their petals. “Come home with me safe and sound.”

“I’m not one to keep promises, Levi, you know that.”

“Just this once,” he pleaded. “All I wanted was to have a happy ending with you, my edelweiss.”

With new tears blossoming in your eyes like flowers in spring, you gave Levi a promise that will desperately cling as long as the two of you are alive.

And he regretted making you say those words.

The battle with the Nine Titans of the past proved to be tormenting. With forces so small, the group who allied two countries at constant war with each other fought with bated breath, all eager to get out of the situation alive like no other. As hollow as your chest became after witnessing Hange sacrifice their life to let all of you escape, you steeled yourself and momentarily forgot the emptiness you felt as you landed on top of Eren’s back. You fought back a gag of disgust when you realized that the humungous creature shared similarities with those insects you loathe. However, Armin was captured by a Titan out of nowhere and everything went to absolute shit. Maneuvering in the air was perfect for the remaining members of the Survey Corps as they assessed the onslaught and ongoing appearance of their intelligent enemies on Eren’s back but their numbers continued pouring in. Two thousand years of Titan history right in front of your eyes. Everybody, Mikasa especially, was starting to feel agitated that one of their comrades was hauled away with a good number of Titans to prevent them from saving him.

“Even if I was in perfect shape,” Levi told them while they stayed perched a good kilometers away from Death, “I would still not choose to make a charge there. So calm down. Mikasa, don’t rush. Wait until I distract them.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. “Levi, don’t overexert yourself. We don’t want to lose you.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Don’t die on me.”

The rush of adrenaline started when Pieck initiated the charge, along with the thought that she had never known Eren unlike the rest of the people behind her. You screamed for her to retreat but they were futile when the Warhammer Titan materialized behind the Shifter and pierced a weapon made of hardened Titan skin through the torso of the woman’s Cart Titan. Gritting your teeth, you followed your comrades in a route specifically to rescue the new commander of the Survey Corps. Thunderspears were released every minute, maneuvers were done in utmost accuracy, and sliced napes gradually increased as your small group evaded every death-defying moment. As you were about to set your sights on one Titan in particular as well as avoid the Colossal Titan, Connie descended when the fifty-meter mass of burning flesh threw Reiner’s inert Titan at the rest of the squad, shaking the entirety of the spine you were carefully standing on.

“Levi!” you called out desperately when you saw him cough up blood. He was only a few meters away from you and you had to take him away from there fast. However, the sudden motion of a jumping Titan made you rethink your decision, latching your hooks at somewhere near Connie and blinding the creature’s eyes with an angered shout that might have startled it. The horrible creature tried snapping at your form but you were quick enough to evade its jaws with a hiss from your ODM gear, turning in midair to slice the Titan’s nape and rendering it lifeless. Looking down for a moment to check on your blades, you saw the lone pair sitting inside either sheath of the gear. “Fuck. My gas canisters and supply are not cooperating with the situation right now.”

Looking around, you suddenly realized with a hollow chest that everything was hopeless at this point. There was no escape as every intelligent Titan known to mankind swarmed your squad, their shadows a foreboding omen on your death.

Feeling a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, you turned around and saw that the Warhammer Titan was starting to make another one of its weapons, this time, a needle-like spear forming from the hardened material at the bottom of its foot. Shouting at the top of your lungs for your friends to flee, the message only registered to them when you pushed Mikasa, who was dangling in the middle of the trajectory with a determined face, oblivious to the weapon hurtling towards your squad’s direction.

Pain was something you always described as a chain of a chemical reaction. From all the books you read while trying to keep up with the latest idea Hange had, you always marveled at how a small prick of a needle would soon creep the sensation to your entire finger. To prevent yourself from being affected by the pain, you always likened the creeping pain to a blooming blossom in your and Hange’s favorite season. It promised something anew that would grow from the initial pain that racked your body. The dizziness was another story entirely. You never had issues with iron deficiency while growing up. You were a force to be reckoned with — battle scars lining up your legs and knees from all the running and climbing you did as a part of your childhood. These dents on your body grew in numbers as the years passed by until you were granted a position in the military regiment of flying wings and anxiety-ridden adventures. You wore these battle scars proudly like any other soldier.

Then, the promise of being alive rang across your head like a beacon.

That spear caused the entire left side of your torso to be gone.

The shouts of terror and agony from your squad fell on deaf ears as you slowly plummeted to your death. Ah, so that was why you were having flashbacks of your life from gazing at the ocean a final time. Glassy eyes stared lifelessly at the steaming sky as a single voice screamed your name nearly made you smile. You can finally let go of those long, never-ending days now. There won’t be nightmares plaguing you every other night as you finally succumbed to your last sleep. Selfish as it may, you were at peace once again.

“[Name]!”

And when you opened your eyes, a familiar face appeared to greet you and everything felt like a dream you just experienced from a drunken daze.

“Hi, I hope that wasn’t a bad dream.”

You blinked away the drowsiness that fell upon your eyelids, staring at a familiar landscape you only saw in daydreams. The clean air reminded you of the good old days, of summers left uncherished and autumn with its red leaves and yellow treats. There weren’t any Titans looming at every corner of the space and you slightly felt relieved at the thought until a single tear ran down your cheek like a chill in the winter air.

“Don’t cry.” A slightly panicked tone that only deepened the cut you felt in your chest. “You’re safe here.”

Those words only fuelled your cries. Palms covering your mouth, you uttered the name of the person who would pull you from the inner workings of your mind and bring you back to the surface. You never knew how much you missed them until you wrapped your arms around their shoulders, pulling them in an embrace that you should’ve done before they said their farewells, face taut with determination to stop Eren.

"Hange.”

They smelled like home. Of baked bread during late-night trysts in the kitchens to make them eat after a week of slaving inside their laboratory, of hot chocolate from the marketplace, of scented shampoo from the baths you had to force them. Your grip tightened when you felt their gentle hands reciprocate the hug you showered on them.

“I can’t believe you’re here waiting for me.”

“You did well.” A call of your name snapped you from reuniting with your best friend.

“Erwin?”

A warm smile lifted the said man’s lips as he kneeled beside you and Hange, who was now trying so hard not to cry. “You fought beautifully, [Name], and I’m so glad to see your smile again.”

The overwhelming emotions made you laugh brilliantly in the vast meadow where the veterans once had their picnic. Then, an image of a man with ebony locks and loving steel eyes and a toddler with an uncanny similarity as him made you stop breathing. The tea shop you promised your husband would have. The perfect childhood your son would’ve enjoyed. “What about Caelum? Levi?”

Erwin placed a firm hand on your shoulder. There you realized your torso was still intact. “You will see them as many times as you want. Come,” he took your hand and pulled you up, “the others are waiting. It’s your time to tell your story now.”

“I bet it was interesting since I never got to see it,” Hange interjected, wrapping a nostalgic arm around your shoulders. “That blasted Eren! I will haunt him in his sleep if he survived that massacre he started!”

Sleep was never Levi’s friend growing up. It was a realm that he chose not to venture at certain nights, afraid of the demons lurking at every corner of his tunnel vision. There was a time that sleep was kind to him. It took the form of a beautiful sprite with gentle fingers; coaxing him, tugging affectionately on his black locks, and humming lullabies that will guarantee him a good night’s sleep after a tiring day of having responsibilities. Only there was no fairy to lull him to sleep this time around. The nightmare was always the same — it started as any other random memory stored in the kept jar inside his chest, turning the whole scenario in a crescendo until he saw the limp body of his wife dropping lifelessly, the wire of her gear snapping from the impact of a white spear. His wife had the same face as the fairy who he held every night while being in the Survey Corps. The wife who gave him the light of his life, who was sleeping soundly beside him on the bed; black hair tousled, puffy cheeks blabbering drowsy nonsense, and chubby fists clenching on the thick sheets.

Glancing at the child on the bed, Levi ran an agitated hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as hard as he could. His mind flittered to the dream he just had, shocked that no blood and corpses were waiting at the end. Levi doesn’t know if he should be grateful or spooked at the sudden change of his unconscious.

“Guess you won’t be calling me ‘Captain’ anymore, huh, Levi?”

A playful jab colored Levi’s new office. It was a new change from that stuffy bedroom he got back when he was still the second-in-command of the woman standing in the middle of his office as if it was a new wonderland fit for admiring. The room was nothing much. It was an old storage room, which ticked Levi off to many tomorrows, spending every free time polishing the wooden cabinets and bookshelves until they reflected his face. There was an adjoining door to the right of his desk, showing his new sleeping quarters — equipped with a bed, housing double the pillows he got a while back and a soft mattress that his spine was grateful for. Now, the black-haired man observed how [Name]’s face lit up when their eyes met, igniting a foreign feeling inside his stomach and chest.

��So what’s second on the agenda, Captain Levi? I deduced that cleaning is the first one and you finished that without a hitch. You should’ve told me you needed help, I can always spare a few minutes taking a break from paperwork.”

Levi snorted at how smooth the title and his name sounded with the woman’s voice. “Finding brats to place on my squad.” As he fidgeted with the stacks of papers on top of his desk, his gray gaze kept glancing at [Name], who was now sidling up on his bookshelf, occasionally commenting that they pay a visit to the marketplace downtown for some good books to add in his collection. (“Your taste is bland, Levi, spice them up, for fuck’s sake,” to which the man brushed off.) “Uh, if you don’t mind, you can help me with finding some good soldiers for my squad.”

[Eye color] irises immediately snapped to meet his, causing Levi to clear his throat to ease the nervousness that started to chill his spine. It was as if he didn’t spend the past year under her leadership, which amounted to more moments spent with just the two of them. This, however, the nervousness he felt, was uncalled for. The cause being the woman with the unbound hair, curling at the bottom from the hours she pinned it in a bun, and a resolve that rivaled that of a stoked fire shining through her eyes. Truly worthy of the title ‘Humanity’s Beacon’, being one of the few women to ever prove themselves by slaying titans and conditioning their bodies and mind to achieve such an accomplishment. Levi found himself continuously staring at [Name] with the most blatant awe his stoic face could muster. He realized something that might have crossed his mind a couple of times they were together.

[Name] [Last Name] was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Finding good soldiers?” [Name] hummed, oblivious at the fact that she took the black-haired man’s breath away with a glance. “I think I have some cadets in mind.” Then, she clapped her hands. “But before that, I would like to give you your welcoming present!”

“Welcoming,” Levi trailed off, “present?”

[Name] nodded, turning around to the long couch pushed against the wall. So that’s what that poor excuse of wrapping paper was for, Levi thought. Like a little kid presenting the parent their shitty drawing, [Name] placed the gift in the middle of his desk with a clang. Wait, clang? “I hope I didn’t break it,” the female captain murmured, scratching her head sheepishly. “You can open it now.”

Levi tentatively unwrapped the brown paper around the supposed gift the woman gave him. Upon seeing what was nestled inside the papers, gray eyes met the most tantalizing [eye color] as he slightly gaped in disbelief. “You bought me a,” an eager nod could be seen from the woman in his peripheral vision, “a tea set. And a new jar of tea leaves as well. [Name], I-I couldn’t accept this, this must cost a lot. You know I have plans of buying my own tea set and tea leaves once I have a solid paycheck. These are even made from the highest quality, both of these, how—?”

Laughter bubbled from [Name] as she endearingly stared at the flustered state of her friend, abruptly stopping his chatter. “You’re rambling, Levi. Don’t worry about the lost money, we will be getting our paychecks next month anyway. I don’t have anything to splurge the rest of my savings on, except for a few books and quills. Besides,” she paused to give Levi a brilliant smile that once again rendered him speechless, “I guess giving you these are worth every single penny. Congratulations on being captain, Levi.”

Clearing his throat, he looked away. “Tch, you’re the one who recommended me to Erwin, stop with the congratulations as if you don’t know the promotion.”

“Still stingy, I see. So about those cadets you wanted to recruit. Here, I recommend these people.”

A small weight knocked Levi out of his stupor, silver-gray matching his stare with worried eyes. Small hands plopped on either side of the man’s face, squishing his cheeks as the hunched smaller figure on his lap pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “Dad, did you have a nightmare?” Letting out a sigh, Levi took his son’s hands from his face and proceeded to hug him close. The little boy sensed that his father was in a sad mood because of the man’s tense shoulders so he determinedly patted Levi’s head. “There, there, Dad. It’s more than okay to forget that dream.”

“You know I wouldn’t dare forget your Mom, kid,” Levi murmured, leaning back to look at Caelum with a raised eyebrow.

“You were dreaming about Mom?”

“Yeah.”

Great, his kid inherited his insomniac tendencies. If [Name] would see him now, there would be no doubt she will initiate a late-night tea party with Caelum. The kid also inherited his love for tea (Levi lets him drink fruit teas in the meantime) which is more than fine.

Caelum ducked down, pouting while fiddling with his father’s shirt. “I miss Mom.”

A sad smile pulled on Levi’s lips. “Me, too, kid. Me, too.” He brushed his lips on Caelum’s forehead (which lead to a small whine from the toddler, saying that he’s a big boy and he doesn’t want kisses from his dad) before lying down on the bed, with his son on top of his chest. “Deal with the kisses. Let’s sleep, yeah? Are you sleepy, kid?”

The little boy yawned and rubbed his eye. “Nope.”

Levi snorted. “Well, no shit.”

“That’s a bad word. Mom wouldn’t like you saying it.” Silence enveloped the two until, “Hey, Dad, can you tell me stories about Mom?”

“Go to sleep, brat.” A pause. “She is—,” Levi sighed, “quite a handful, even when she was a captain.”

Caelum huffed. “I already know that. You always complain about it.”

“Well, did I tell you about that time she stood on top of a Titan we were planning to capture, leading it like a horse to our trap?”

The dark-haired boy shook his head adorably. “Did Mom get hurt?”

“That idiot did.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about Mom!”

“Setting that aside, your Mom…”

Telling stories of [Name] always proved to be quite a time-consuming thing as the toddler fought against his drooping eyelids. Levi fondly stared at the only memory his wife left behind, his hand soothingly rubbed the boy’s back as their breaths turned into a rhythmic melody synced with each other. “I love you, kid. I know your mom will be proud of you. We’ll always be here for you, our edelweiss.”

To you, glowing with the suns,

There was no one alive to tell the tale of how the world almost came to an end, how earthquakes rumbled, how hopes were extinguished. There was no one alive to tell the story of how much I dedicate my heart to you. If I’d known it would be this way; I would have written thousands of paragraphs with the way I looked at you as if you were the sea, I would have written the ending with words that rivaled the infinite stars in the cosmos, and I would have finished it off with happiness that we (you) deserve.

You are my prologue, my epilogue, and every chapter and page in between.

From a tired soldier who loves you until we become ancient,

Your Levi

#attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #yes this is angst #i know this is a fluff blog #but i can't help it

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peach-coke · 4 years

Note

PEACHY!! I just finished the final. How u doing? What do you think?

Hey Sol! Sorry for leaving you hanging with an answer for a couple days but I had to process. And mourn, after all I said goodbye to something that has been part of me for 15 years. That's half my life. It's weird and I don't think I've ever cried as much as I have in the past 3 days but... Well. Luckily, they're happy tears. "Don't cry because it's over, cry because it happened" aside? I love the ending.

It's all I could've ever asked for. Ah, who am I kidding? It's more than that. I was prepared to be gutted in a really bad way. I am gutted but for all the right reasons. It was tragic. It was painful. It was beautiful. But most of all? It was a Love-Letter.

I know there’s a lot of people who’re upset about parts of the episode; I understand. We’re all grieving in our own ways. I hope however, that once the dust has settled and feelings stop spiking into extremes, people will realize that the episode left so many things unsaid and ambiguous... Meaning there's lots and lots of space for interpretation and headcanons to “fix” the finale into something that makes it better for you. And I’d like to think this was done on purpose.

I’m soo sorry I end up rambling on one of your asks again Sol, but I’ll do exactly that to pick up some of the things I’ve seen people be most upset about and give some of my perspective on them. Maybe it’ll help some people to feel better and grow to love the final as much as I do ♥

One thing I’ve seen a lot of people be upset about is that Dean didn’t get to live the life they’ve fought for so hard. Actually? We don’t know that. There is no timestamps, no indicators that tell us they didn’t do what we saw in the first domestic montage for a couple years. The only hint we have is that Miracle is still around and kicking, so it couldn’t have been more than maybe 6 years (because 6-8ish is when a dog that size shows clears signs of aging). Besides that? Nobody and nothing stops us in believing they had that “domestic bliss with a little bit of hunting on the side”-life for quite a while before it happened.

Them talking about mourning Cas and Jack is no indicator either. I still mourn people I lost 15 years ago, when the occasion calls for it or I remember them in moments that they would’ve loved to be part of. Mourning never stops… Of course, even 6 years aren’t a lifetime. But do we really think Dean - our Dean - would’ve been happy and content with a 9-to-5 job? Yeah, didn’t think so either...

Then, we have the rebar. Which honestly didn’t bother me at all, for several reasons. First, I love parallels and this episode was so full of them… Not only was the whole “stabbed in the back” thing a direct callback to arguably the most painful death in the series to date – Sam’s first in All Hell Breaks Loose – it was also a callback to The Song Remains the Same. The episode where Sam is stabbed by Anna – with a rebar/fixture she ripped out of the wall - and bleeds out on the floor. The only reason he got out of it alive, is because John!Michael fixed him. Otherwise? He would’ve died by being stabbed with a rebar. Just like that.

Ash himself told them that they died several times together and can’t remember because the angels don’t want them to. We, the viewers, have never seen them die together until Dark Side Of The Moon. Which strongly implies that they must’ve died on random hunts. More than once.

So Dean’s death in the barn? That’s what happens to Hunters who have no divine intervention. That’s what happens to Hunters who are living the life without being chosen for something bigger. That’s what happens to Hunters with free will. Dean’s death in the barn was a true Hunter’s death. The one he always wanted. There’s no glory, there’s nothing special about it. It just is. And I thought that was tragically poetic in its own way.

I know people were expecting them to go out Butch and Sundance style. Together – I admittedly wanted that too. But the way Dean’s death happened didn’t bother me at all. And honestly? Sam’s soul died in that barn, too. We know it did. So they did go out together, one way or another. It was just not the way we expected.

The cinematic parallels of Sam’s life without Dean to Dean’s life without Sam after Swan Song honestly floored me. It was beautifully heartbreaking.

We see Sam living his life while Dean is driving along “right there beside him, every step of the way”. We see him holding on for Dean, fulfilling the promise he made to his brother about living on. Making sure there’s always a Winchester that knows love left in the world. The final sacrifice of Sam, the bravest and strongest man we know. Sam, who sits down in the car he once called home, to be close to the one person that always held the same connotation. Sam, who knows his other half is waiting for him, sitting just there in the same spot he is. Every step of the way. That’s my Supernatural right there.

What I especially like about the whole thing is, that it once again leaves us with another take besides the one we actually saw and thought obvious. We can also pretend Sam died on that werewolf hunt, shortly after Dean’s death. There is nothing that stops you from seeing this as canon, (There’s actually quite a few hints that it’s a very strong possibility), because the way the whole scene played out could’ve easily been a daydream of Dean while he was driving in heaven.

The fact they left it open like that is a gift, in my eyes. They could’ve easily forced a fixed narrative on us. But they didn’t. Same with so many other things. They left us with so many possibilities and room for our own takes. And I think it’s fair that people need time to process what we’ve been given here. It’s fair that people are still upset about some aspects, because they have yet to realize that there is a pathway for them to see it differently, without discarding canon at all.

There’s only one thing that is not open for interpretation. And that’s that Sam and Dean love each other as much as two human beings can love each other. And none of them is complete without the other. I never quite understood why some people needed the show to end on romantic notes. Supernatural has never been about that. It has always been about the deep, abiding love those two brothers had for each other and how neither heaven nor hell ever stood a chance against it. Platonic love is just as beautiful as romantic love; sometimes even more so. And that’s what this finale showed us.

And that’s why I love it so much. Why I say it’s a Love-Letter. It’s a Love-Letter to us; The ones who’ve been there all the way from the start. The ones who’ve seen the show for what it is and what it has always been: The epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester.

Despite all that, it is still valid to dislike the ending. You are entitled to do so. But if you really think Sam and Dean - two soulmates, surrounded by the people they love, at peace - spending the rest of eternity together in heaven is the absolute worst possible ending that destroyed everything the show ever stood for? I’m sorry, but in that case you did not understand Supernatural at all.

#Asks and Requests #Sent in by solisoccasus #SPN Spoilers #SPN Finale Positive #Sam and Dean are Soulmates #and y'all can take that from my cold dead hands

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Ging Freecss Character Analysis

Hisoka Analysis| Illumi Analysis| Killua Analysis| Chrollo Analysis

What’s up, y’all? I am back again with another analysis. Today, I will be talking about Ging Freecss and I am glad that this was requested by @dukinaxael. I’ve been wanting to talk about Ging for a while and now is my time to shine. PS, I’ll be doing Leorio’s character next. I’m sorry that this is so short! I haven’t been able to watch the last seasons because Netflix will not upload them. Enjoy anyway!

We all know that Ging is considered to be a dead-beat father to his son Gon. He is the reason why Gon wants to become a hunter in the first place and will do ANYTHING to achieve that goal. As the story is told, Ging left his home when he was 12 years old to take the Hunter’s exam. After passing, he never returned home, at some point met Gon’s mom, and saved a lot of felons/criminal’s lives. Now he is apart of the Hunter’s association (I think?) and apart of the Zodiacs (I think). Some of these next statements are assumptions because I haven’t seen anything past season 4. From that little bit of information, it seems like Gon gets his “over achiever” mentality from his dad. Who would have thought that a young man who had just obtained his hunter’s license would use it to help out criminals instead of busting them? Aunt Mito has expressed how she felt once her brother left and didn’t return, that is why she stressed that Gon should return home once he gets his license. She even stated that she cried for the longest when she realized he wasn’t coming back.

The whole mystery about why Ging abandoned Gon is very fuzzy. According to Aunt Mito, Ging dropped Gon at his house, said that he isn’t with Gon’s mom anymore, and left while some people say that Mito took Gon from Ging because she felt that he was too immature to take care of him. Some even say that he lost a custody case to her. I can’t tell you if this is true or not because I don’t know and I haven’t seen any seasons after 4.

Judging from YouTube Clips, Ging seems to be a selfish dad and doesn’t care about how his son basically cried like fuck for feeling guilty about what happened to Kite.

Leorio asked why he hadn’t seen Gon in the hospital and he acted like he didn’t care. If you think about it, Gon is the type of child that doesn’t want things handed to him, so maybe Ging was implying that he didn’t want to see Gon until he continued to push and work towards finding him. Still, that’s a horrible way to reacted once you’ve found out that your son is about to die. Here are some questions that I’m sure most of you have:

Why did Hisoka want to talk to Ging? Does he know that Ging is related to Gon?

Why does he refuse to go anywhere near Gon?

Why does he only talk to Gon on a high tree and not on the ground where everyone else is?

Why did he send his son on a goose chase just to find him?

I don’t want to say that I hate Ging but I strongly dislike him. (If he did do this) Why would you abandoned your child and leave him with your sister for her to raise? Then you send your 12 year old son, who had endured so much emotional pain/trauma from beasts he had to fight along the way, BTW, just to meet you and then you only talk to him once your high off the ground? Ging, not the best guy in the world and certainly doesn’t deserve the #1 Dad mug.

Did Ging do all of this so he could make his son stronger while he was away?

In regards to question 1, I’ve seen some rumors on YouTube implying that Hisoka had an agreement with Ging to watch over Gon until he returns. I’m assuming this was after Gon left home. Ging said that once Gon returns home safely he and Hisoka will fight until the death.

Do you all remember when Hisoka told Gon something along these lines at the end of their fight at Heaven’s arena?

Many people have suggested that Hisoka had been protecting Gon and Killua from fighting opponents they wouldn't win against and it makes sense. He wouldn’t let them pass until they learned about Nen and beat the crap out of them hoping that the pain would cause them to quit fighting and never receive their Hunter’s License or take on strong opponents. Now if that last part is true, why would Ging set up an entire game to lead Gon to him? That's still twisted no matter how you look at it. Like I said, this manga is twisted in ways that I can't understand, lol.

Hisoka and Gon consistently fighting reminds me of Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius.

Another person implied that Hisoka and Kite were people directed by Ging and along the way included Bisky (just by coincidence).

I would like to make a note. Pictures that were taken of young Ging portrayed him to be a happy and proud man but present day Ging looks angry, unhappy, and always ready to fight. Could this be due to the horrific nature of the Hunter's exam and other opponents that turned his innocence and humanity into something worse? We see the same thing happen to Gon. He was a happy bright kid that allows his anger to spiral out of control...and always wants to fight.

Well, you know what they say: Like father like son.

Ging and Gon finally have a talk as father and son.

Apparently, Ging is on his way to the Dark Continent and forbids Gon to follow him. Overall, Ging has a toxic love for his son by consistently pushing his away until the very last second. I don’t know what is up but this anime is the definition of toxic love.

I can definitely say that Ging is a much better father than Zarkon. At least he acknowledges Gon unlike Zarkon who thinks his son is weak because he is half Altean. Damn, anime/manga’s; what’s up with the toxic father trope? Is this supposed to be the driving force to marketing these male characters stronger? Not going to lie, the toxic or sexist father trope is old and annoying .

This part of the analysis is based form what I’ve heard about Ging, YouTube clips, and what has been said about him. Of course I’m probably leaving out a lot of information but that’s because I haven’t seen the rest of the seasons.

Judging from photos kept around the house, Ging always wore his hat over his eye. I guess he was going for the Emo look when he was younger. His hat has hairs stick out from it which probably implies a certain type of cloth the hat is made from. In other instances, He has his hair sticking up like Gon’s but has a cloth wrapped around the edges. He wants them to be on fleek you know? Other times he just has his hair out with no hat or cloth. He usually wears white pants, shirt, and a blue cloth over his front and back side.

I hope you all enjoyed this. I did try my best and I am so sorry that it is short.

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dear-mrs-otome · 4 years

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Johann Georg Faust - 2nd Birthday (His POV) - Yet Another Terrible Summary

(Faust: "...The children will wake up.")

Here is my irreverent, only nominally-guaranteed accurate rendition of Faust’s 2nd birthday story in his POV.

(We start with a one-liner, ‘narrator voice’ Faust saying how he had learned from a very young age that the world was an absurd place.)

It’s February 28th, and at his church, MC has arrived with a bag she offers him, claiming they’re delicious treats she wanted to share. He asks if she’s there to celebrate his birthday, pointing out to her there’s no February 29th this year. She deflates, grumbling that she hadn’t expected him to see through things so quickly, and he tells her that if she does something like that out of the blue of course he’s going to wonder why.

He can’t believe she’s trying again, after he’d told her last year he didn’t want to celebrate and that the day was meaningless - it’s merely the day he was found after having been abandoned as a baby. No sentimentality to it. But he can also clearly recall the way she’d told him last year she wanted him to be happy on his birthday...and bemused by that sentiment still, he takes the proffered bag.

He says that if it’s a gift, he’ll take it because he can think of someone it’ll make happy. MC finally notices the small child hovering around when he says this, and she has a spittake moment of ILLEGITIMATE KIDDO?? Faust teases her about having a very wild imagination, causing her to sputter, and he pinches her cheeks lightly at her flailings before he hands the bag of candy off to the little boy.

The child seem incredulous at the gift, but MC assures him she’d be happy if he ate it, and she asks him his name. The boy tells her it is Hugo in a small voice. She asks Hugo if he’s from around here, but Faust answers for him - he says he is, but he’s due to circumstances he’s about to take the child to the orphanage now.

MC surprises him by asking if it’s no bother, can she come along too? He tells her it makes no matter to him - wondering to himself if she’s worried about the kiddo. She thanks him, and urges little Hugo to get ready to go, his little hand fast in hers.

They’re greeted by the orphanage matron when they arrive, who kindly welcomes Hugo to his new home. MC hands the boy off with a soft look, and Faust is all in a hurry to leave now that his duty is done...when one of the orphan children notices the priest and the lady and calls out to them.

Spotted, Faust thinks, and no sooner has the first kid called out than the rest of the kids come running over as well, all crowding around him and clamoring for them to stay and play.

Faust immediately shuts the idea down, but MC cajoles that if they have time, they should stay and play. He warns her that she will only regret the idea - when they’re interrupted by the matron asking if they wouldn’t mind actually? She’s short-handed on help and needs to step out to get some things but can’t leave the kids unattended.

She really is not taking no for an answer, and thus Faust and MC find themselves babysitting the orphanage until she returns.

Some time later, Faust is pulling an ‘I told you so’ on an exhausted MC, who’s been run ragged by the eager children. She flops to a seat, and looks up at him soberly, where he’d just picked up a child and put them to sleep. She observes that he’s good with the children, and he says he has practice - he used to take care of some a long time ago.

He spares a moment to wonder to himself how many of them grew up to lead out their lives, given how life in an orphanage long ago was far from easy. Then as he’s looking out over the children he realizes they’re short one, and says as much aloud.

MC and he go searching, and shortly they find Hugo outside near the gates, huddled and shivering in the cold winter air. Faust realizes this is more than simply being sad about his new surroundings, and it’s MC tries to herd him inside so he doesn’t catch a cold.

But little Hugo balks, and he says no, he wants to stay here - if he caught a cold and died, would he meet his mom and dad in heaven?

Faust realizes from the stunned expression on MC’s face that she’s finally understood the truth of Hugo’s situation. His parents both had died in an accident and he was forced to enter the orphanage when no one came to collect him after the funeral. Faust thinks it’s not unreasonable for Hugo to be saddened, but…

“There’s no guarantee you’ll meet someone who has passed on. It’s pointless to choose death for that,” he tells Hugo. “Unless of course someone were to be dissected after death for posterity...then their death wouldn’t be a total waste.”

MC sputters at him for saying such a thing to a child, but Faust is remorseless, still thinking it’s foolish to have any hopes or expectations for after death. As a priest, he often tells people that ‘those who pass on are ushered into the kingdom of heaven’...but he himself has never seen Heaven, or God provide any sort of salvation.

Hugo wonders aloud why his mom and dad had to die? Why did God decide such a thing?

Faust tells him that the world is an absurd place and urges him that if he has any sort of doubts, to think about how he can live in defiance of his destiny...rather than letting winter’s cold choose life or death for him. He takes his jacket off and slips it over those tiny shoulders, and watches as MC wipes away the tears that fall from Hugo’s eyes, comforting him.

He thinks...that he cannot recall what sadness is, what it feels like anymore. But he can tell how incredibly warm the hand MC slips into Hugo’s is.

After they’ve gotten the children all settled for their nap, MC replaces Faust’s jacket with a blanket on the sleeping Hugo and turns to him, holding it as she stares at him. He finally asks her, what?? And she asks what sort of children it was he’d spent time with in the past.

Faust teases her about asking something out of the blue like that, and for being so keenly interested - startling him when she unapologetically agrees that she does want to know about him, and if he tells her she’ll return his jacket.

Faust grumbles that it’s a lame deal, given that it’s not a fun story to hear...but he doesn’t get the impression that she’s asking out of idle curiosity or a whim alone, so he indulges her. He tells her that when he was a baby, he was found by an older nun and grew up in an orphanage located in an old church. He says that they were terribly poor, but he survived, and when he got older he helped take care of the other children. Many of them would die before winter’s end, or disappear after being taken in by foster parents.

Eventually, he was fostered out himself and the nun who raised him died of an illness, and the orphanage was closed. End of story.

He thinks that the abbreviated version he told her was the parts that didn’t hurt...but she still looks up at him with a sadness in her eyes when she asks what sort of woman was the nun?

Faust says that she was incredibly kind, too kind to ignore an abandoned child, and probably too compassionate for her own good.

He thinks how she was kind up until the very end, giving and giving of herself to anyone….and he recalls a time when she’d come to him.

“Thank you for taking care of everyone, Johann” she had said. “But why don’t you put the books down and go play?”

“It’s fine. Even if I make friends with them, they will all leave someday,” he had told her.

“Johann...The reason why you never cry is because you keep your sadness locked away…”

He can still see the sad smile she had worn and hear the conversation they’d had, rising to the surface of a sea of old memories. He coldly waits for those lingering remnants to pass...when his reverie is interrupted by MC telling him she’s thankful the woman found little Faust. That even if the world is an absurd place, she’s happy to be able to celebrate his birthday with him now.

Her words stun him into silence, leaving him only able to stare at her faint smile. He’d never thought of it that way - the consideration to be thankful for such a thing. Her words shed a new light on his cold memories, and sneak their way into his heart.

He teases her though, saying that she speaks of odd things and he wonders if she’s merely angling to dig through people’s pasts and root out their weaknesses. A sputtering MC vehemently denies she’d do such a thing and accuses him of being a smartass, and righteously stomps towards him to shove the jacket back at him...when she steps on a stray toy block, loses her footing, and crashes into him.

They both tumble to the ground, her atop him, and she’s staring down at him wide-eyed as she beings babbling apologies - only to have them fade into muffled sounds when he quickly reaches up and presses her face onto his chest to stifle her voice.

“You’ll wake the children,” he warns her...though he pauses a moment to linger on the soft feel of her cheek on his bare skin, where his shirt has fallen into disorder. He’s thinking, this woman is unbelievable, as he chides her for such - sighing heavily and asking if she gets a kick out of bothering him.

But he’s getting a kick out of her blushing face and her averted eyes, the sight stirring his mean streak enough that he can’t let the opportunity to give her a hard time pass. He teases her about being the one with the red face when she pushed him down...and is amused by her appalled reaction. He says she’s something else to straddle a man with a face like that, right next to a bunch of sleeping children...and he strokes his hands up the thighs that bracket his hips, enjoying the little sigh she lets out.

The moment is broken by a soft sound from one of the children tossing in their sleep, and MC leaps off him like a scalded cat. The whole situation is so incredibly absurd that Faust can’t help laughing, even if it’s met by a glare from MC as she asks him what is so funny.

He’s still chuckling as he points out her reaction, and how amusing it all was...all the while thinking, it has been a very long time since he has laughed so much. He slips back on the jacket she shoves at him, and tells her that he never gets tired of watching her - he wants to keep her close at hand, so he can observe her always.

His words have her turning her face away, but the look in her eyes before she does makes him happy. He wants to know more about her, he thinks. What manner of things would he discover, if he caught her and kept her all to himself, and figured out what made her tick? Her presence in this world, that he looks at through such cold eyes, stirs his heart.

FIN

(many thanks as always to @mikotomizuki for giving this a second set of eyes!)

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp faust #ikevamp jp #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen vampire spoilers #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp birthday #ikevamp jp summary #AGAIN THEY CAME FOR OUR OVARIES WITH THE KIDS #I love how kids seem to adore him #he collects them wherever he goes and he's just *sigh*#kids can smell capable faust

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

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Dating Remus Lupin Would Consist of...

Remus is an observant fellow. He happened to see you in the garden of Hogwarts, sitting with your friends.

He was so unbelievably tired that day, the first day back from “visiting his mother,” that he nearly blinked and lost you. But then he heard your laugh.

Your laugh soon became the sound he cherished most in the world. You did not giggle childishly like the other girls, but instead you squeezed your eyes shut and chimed in laughter.

He couldn’t help but note how wonderful you looked. You wore comfortable clothing, trousers and a sweater to battle the Autumn wind, but you were captivating.

From then on, Remus Lupin had a huge crush.

He had heard your name from one of your friends who absentmindedly mentioned you during Transfigurations.

He would never admit this, but Remus would whisper your name to himself in the bathroom, enjoying how it rolled off his tongue.

Remus Lupin was good at keeping secrets. He had fooled the entirety of Hogwarts into thinking he was merely visiting his sick parent, but there were three boys he absolutely could not fool.

At first, he tried to hide it, but one morning Peter caught him staring a little too long in your direction.

“What you lookin’ at that’s got you all slack-jawed.” Peter leaned to poke Remus on the skin of his cheek.

Remus would stammer back and quickly look down at his fingers which tightly held a mug of coffee.

Sirius pushed his head so it was directly next to Remus’, cheek to cheek.

“I don’t see what you are so preciously gazing at,” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows, “Guide me so I may see what has caught our Moony’s attention.”

Remus could help himself and he would practically want to die when James poked his head up.

James Potter was a tall fellow, nearly taller than Sirius and much taller than Remus, so when he stuck out like a sore thumb when he searched the Great Hall.

“Oh-” James whistled before sitting down smugly. He leaned back, putting the back of his head into his hands. “Moons, I see,”

“What!” Sirius whined, desperate to see.

“Shut the fuck up,” Remus cursed, burrowing his head into his arms.

“Oi, come on, that’s not nice,” Sirius rolled his eyes. James reached his long arm, stretching and grabbing Sirius’ chin to guide his eyes into place. “Well, in Merlin’s sagging balls, Moony’s got a crush!” Sirius yelled after his embarrassing staring.

“Nice one, that is,” Peter agreed, “Talked to her once in Muggle Studies.” “And, her tits look amazing.” James popped up making Remus furiously glare at him.

If looks could kill, James would likely be dead.

“Prong, come on, mate,” Sirius shook his head, his voice disappointed, “We don’t talk about the ladies here like that, you know that.”

James slumped down, pouting and sheepish, “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to Remus,” Sirius instructed, pointing at Remus whose cheeks and ears had gone bright red.

“Sorry Moons.” Remus narrowed his eyes at him, deciding he’d forgive him after Charms when he’d really start to feel bad.

“Don’t be mad, Rem,” Sirius sighed, “You know James, he’s an only child, you know only children always end up odd in the head.”

“You know what Padfoot,” Remus rolled his eyes, “That would’ve been sweet if you had not forgotten that I am also an only child.”

Sirius’ mouth fell agape before quickly recovering, “Shut up about the specifics. Let’s talk about the fittest bird over there.”

“How come he can say fittest bird but I can’t say-” James began to argue but quickly stopped his protest once realizing how terribly wrong he was.

“Should ask her out,” Peter smiled toothily, “Give her the Moon Special.”

Remus would look at him in disbelief before shaking his head, “Truly think about what you’ve just said.”

Peter thought quickly before slowly nodding in understanding “I see, when I saw Moon Special it makes it sound like-”

“Pete, my love, be quiet.” Sirius shushed, placing his finger on Peter’s lips dramatically.

“Oh merlin,” Peter would gag, “You need to wash your hands after putting in hair gel.”

From then on, it was incessant teasing.

Remus would flush angrily whenever the boys would crack a joke, even going so far to throw all of Sirius’ pillows onfire.

And still, whenever he could without the boys noticing, he’d admire you.

Little did he know, you were also equally, if not more affected by a certain Lycanthrope.

Remus thanked the souls of heaven and hell when you were paired together for Potions.

He could’ve thrown Peter out of a window and James right next to him for the googly eyes they made when you were turned.

Remus would stutter, something he hadn’t done since he was six, as he spoke to you.

But you were patient and kind, even cracking jokes and sharing notes.

It took a lot of convincing and even threatening for Remus to even try to ask you out.

But because you were equally nervous about him, you thought he was asking you to study outside of class.

Remus was more than confused when he saw you with heavy textbooks in your arms, but decided to “go with the flow” as James put it.

The two of you sat together, whispering and laughing as quietly as you could.

When night drew to a close, Remus was most surprised when you said, “I really enjoyed studying with you, Remus, but I was wondering if next time... we could maybe...” you smiled shyly, “Go on a date? Maybe?”

Remus’ jaw dropped and he couldn’t think of anything else to say but, “I thought this was a date.”

That was the first time of many that Remus made you laugh so hard you dropped your books.

When you began dating, Remus was nervous ALL THE TIME.

Any time he thought about you, he’d get so nervous he’d almost begin sweating and his heart would beat so fast he thought he’d have to go to the infirmary.

You were more open and easier to bring out of your shy shell.

He’d often find himself groaning at your silly puns and nearly shocked when you’d make the occasional dirty joke.

Remus knew he had his friends’ approval when you made a joke about Dumbledor’s sagging balls the first time you met them.

Sirius later said he thought you were so funny he’d shit himself.

Peter agreed while James slapped Remus’ on the shoulder.

Dates consisted of walking the grounds at Hogwarts, going to Hogsmeade and even sneaking out to the kitchen as night.

He had gotten in trouble maybe once or twice with McGonagall for allowing you to accompany him on late night rounds, but that was quickly forgiven as McGonogall seemed to favor you out of any of the students at Hogwarts.

One of Remus’ favorite things to do was to grab you by the waist when you weren’t expecting it.

You’d squeal and squirm as he pulled you in for a hug, telling him “One day you’ll scare me so hard I’m sure I’ll become a ghost.”

You loved to hold Remus’ hands.

Though Remus’ hands and arms had scars, you enjoyed tracing the tips of your fingers along the lines.

Remus found this soothing. He also particularly enjoyed when you went off course and decided to draw tiny hearts on his skin.

The two of you constantly found yourselves giving reminders to the other.

“Have you drank water today? No? Don’t you think that’s something you should do?”

“Remember love, we have that essay for Charms due next Wednesday. If you don’t begin now, you’ll complain and whine about it and I’ll have nothing to say but ‘I told you so.’”

Remus found it adorable how much you loved to cuddle.

No, like, seriously, you loved to cuddle.

Sometimes, he’d be working away at a homework assignment, and you’d disappear somewhere in his dorm.

After stretching his neck, he’d see you laying down comfortable on his bed.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” Remus asked, laughing lightly.

He couldn’t help but grin when he’d see you move the covers and pat the spot next to you rapidly.

“No no no, Darling, no, we’ve got homework and assignments to do.”

You would continue to pat, nodding your head fastly and giving him a grin.

Eventually, as always, he’d give in, grumbling to you that you’d only cuddle for “five minutes,” which usually translated to “that assignment won’t get done until tomorrow.”

Your favorite position, and his too, was when he rested his head on your chest.

It wasn’t his favorite because of your breasts, though that was a huge plus, but mostly because he could hear your heart.

Sometimes, it was slow, if you were drifting asleep or tired. Sometimes, it would beat fast.

It was your favorite position because there you could play with his hair, pulling and scratching lightly. It was also a lovely spot to rub his back comfortingly.

Remus spent copious amounts of nights, sitting with the boys, his head nearly between his legs as he cried.

He knew he’d have to tell you about his disease, he knew what your reaction would be and he knew it was selfish to keep it from you, but he had just gotten a taste of love and was quite sure he would die of withdrawal.

“Mate,” James would say softly, drawing an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “She isn’t going to care, werewolf or not, she loves you.”

“She’ll leave,” Remus whimpered.

“No, she won’t,” Sirius shook his head, arms crossed and leaning on the dresser, “And if she does, it won’t be because of your werewolf-ness, it’ll be because of your hairy-toes.”

Remus felt a terrible ache in his chest, nearly dry heaving at the feeling.

“Really?” Peter would scold, “Padfoot, now is the time to bring up hairy-toes? At a moment like this?”

James rolled his eyes and continued to comfort his brother.

“As they say, humour is the medicine for all tragedy.”

“Tragedy?” Remus cried out.

“No! What I mean to say,” Sirius quickly recovered, “Is that you have nothing to worry about. Y/N Y/L/N is the last girl to ever be judgemental, I mean have you seen her-”

“Learn when to shut up.” James would warn.

Sirius shut his mouth quite quickly. He knew there was no actual flaw to your personality or you in general, but sometimes Sirius really put his foot in his mouth when it came to emotions.

“What if she does?” Remus asked after a while.

“Does what?” Sirius sighed, sitting next to Remus on his bed. “Leave?”

“Well,” Sirius pretended to think after a bit. He put his arm to hug Remus close, “We kill her.”

As much as Remus felt awful, he couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s absurdity and utter bluntness.

“No, but seriously, no pun intended, she is an amazing girl, truly, and you’re a somewhat okay bloke. You’ll be fine.” Sirius finished.

Remus was shaking when he told you.

He had asked you to meet him in the Astronomy tower after dark and had arrived nearly an hour early to pace and fret.

Hearing your footsteps climb the stairs, Remus thought that falling off the tower might be better than telling you.

When he did finally say it, he shut his eyes tightly.

“Oh,” you said. “Well, that’s certainly a surprise.”

Remus would sputter out apologies and acceptances of the break up and promises to leave you alone for the rest of eternity. He only stopped when he heard you laugh. That laugh. The laugh that he so fell in love with you for.

“What? Who said anything about breaking up?” you shook your head with a grin. “You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me.”

Remus never felt more relief when you connected your hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Only thing that matters to me is that you don’t kick dogs and you don’t hate ABBA. Thas all.”

Quick Snapshots of Dating

You were the first to say I love you.

You watched Remus help some lost First-Years find their way along the changing staircase.

He just looked so sweet and kind and made you laugh when he responded to some kids asking him about his scars

“I literally killed a bear, with my hands. A huge bear.”

You couldn’t help it but pull your lovely boyfriend into a corridor and press a long kiss to his lips.

“What’s that for?” Remus teased. “The idea of me fighting a bear that attractive to you?”

When you said it, Remus’ knees buckled.

His mouth went dry, he couldn’t say anything

Despite VERY MUCH wanting to say he loved you too

Instead, his mouth fell open and you laughed and kissed his nose

“See you after Potions,”

Remus made sure, that night when you were cuddling, to hold you closer than ever, telling you how much he loved you.

“I love you, I do,” Remus whispered, but quickly became nervous “If that’s alright with you.”

Remus becomes quite grumpy on Friday mornings.

You aren’t totally sure why, considering you are so close to the weekend, however you’d always have a cup of steaming dark coffee for him.

Despite the cold weather that Scotland brings, you always insisted on going outside for at least an hour on weekends.

Remus was rather shy when it came to PDA

He much preferred to kiss you in the privacy of one of your beds with the curtains drawn.

But, on the rare occasion, he’d sneak you a kiss between classes.

He couldn’t help it.

You had a habit of giving him cute eyes and saying, “Kiss, please.”

One of the boys would always see and pretend to throw up.

Becoming increasingly closer to Remus’ friends as well,

James was rather proud of his little Moony, always nudging him and asking him how his dates were.

Sirius would complain, but would always allow you to braid his hair, sometimes you’d place little flowers in them as well.

You always knew how to make Peter snort with laughter, it became dangerous when you were around during dinner as something always flew out of his nose.

Remus being more than content, ecstatic and heavily in love with you.

#Remus lupin #Remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders imagines #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fics #marauders fics #sirius black imagines #james potter imagines

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blazedgraysons · 4 years

Text

Positions

You’re in love with Grayson, and some days, you just have to let him know it.

A/N: Everyone thank Miss Ari for inspiring me to write this. This is also inspired by the lovely @punani and her fic “Sweet, St. Catherine” Everyone go give it a read if want to see this fic, but done better. 🤍

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: yeah this is pretty much only smut and Grayson being hot

Sometimes, you're just insatiable.

It wasn't like Grayson was doing anything that attractive. He was simply being himself, which if you're honest, is more than enough to turn you on sometimes. His smile is warm when he turns to check on you, noticing you've more than checked out of the current conversation.

It's a game night at a mutual friend's house, something that has become a weekly tradition during quarantine. Usually, you'd be able to hint to him what you want. A slight glance here, a lingering touch on his thigh, a subtle bite of the lip, and Grayson knows it's time to start saying goodbye. But with the two of you placed on opposing teams tonight, his competitiveness is coming through, and he's entirely focused on the game at hand.

The issue is he's close enough, but still too far away from you at this moment. He laughs at whatever joke that you missed and reaches up to stretch, unintentionally flexing as he does so. You bite your lip, watching him, wondering if his friends would mind you letting him blow your back out in the middle of the room.

"You okay? It's your turn." Your friend nudges your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. Grayson sends you a confused look, slightly concerned at how spaced out you seem.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just not really feeling," You look down at the game. "Monopoly?" You were pretty sure you were playing something else, too distracted by your boyfriend to realize what was even going on. You roll the dice and go back to boring holes into Grayson's head, hoping that he'll mentally pick up it's time to go home now.

Unfortunately, as incredible as he is, Grayson can be rather dense sometimes. It takes another 45 minutes until the game finally ends when he does come to check on you.

"You okay, angel? You seem out of it tonight." He sits next to you, leaning into you to whisper into your ear.

"Yeah. Just not really feeling game night anymore." You sigh longingly. You take this chance to fully appreciate Grayson. He's not even dressed that special, only in his Kids See Ghost sweatshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. His beards grown in a bit and his signature chain is peeking through. His cologne is warm and expensive, and any chance of you calming down has flown out the window.

While Grayson can be oblivious sometimes, he's perceptive enough to pick up the change of tone and the very slow once-over you give him. You watch as his eyes darken, pupils almost immediately turning his eyes black.

"Yeah?" His voice has dropped an octave, and he's leaning even closer, pulling your legs over his. At this moment, you thank the universe for your friends being too occupied by another game to notice the intimate moment between the two of you. Any closer, and you would be completely sitting on his lap as he started to trace loose circles on your thigh.

"Yeah," You repeat. "Think I'm ready to go home." He kisses your temple lightly before pulling you up and announcing your departure. You duck your head a little, embarrassed by the way your friends yell and laugh about the obvious reason the two of you are leaving. Grayson, ever the man, just holds his head proud, not even trying to hide how he's half-hard. His hand is low on your back, and you could kill him at the not-so-subtle wink he throws Ethan on the way out.

"So, that was embarrassing." You grumble once you're finally in the car.

"Please, as if they didn't notice you practically eye-fucking me half the night." Your eyes widen, and you hit him on the arm.

"You saw me! Why didn't you do anything earlier?" Grayson moves his arm to avoid your assault, mumbling something about how he's still driving.

"Angel, it was funny. Besides, it's hot when you get all needy like that." He moves your hand to your leg once you finally stop hitting him, rubbing up and down in hopes to get you to forgive him.

"I hate you." You cross your arms, ignoring the way his hand is slowly moving up your thigh.

"You sure about that?" With that, his hand disappears underneath your dress, immediately zeroing in on your clit and rubbing small circles over your underwear. Your legs open instantly, and already your whining softly.

"Gray." You whimper, want replacing whatever irritation you were feeling. His touch is light, teasing you just enough to want more but not enough for you to really feel anything due to the cotton fabric in the way. "More, please." You plead. Something, anything would be better than the feather-light touches he's currently giving you. Luckily, Grayson's just as needy and slips his hand underneath your waistband.

"God, how are you so wet already." He groans, circling some of your slick before inserting a finger slowly. Two loud thumps are heard as both of you lean your heads back.

"Gray, focus." You remind, jumping when the car swerves considerably to the left. You grip his hand to stop his pumping, and he finally refocuses, righting the car immediately.

He removes his finger, and both of you moan: you from the loss of contact and him from the shiny wetness left on his hand, almost seeming to glow in the moonlight. Your eyes widen, and another wave of arousal floods your center when he takes a long suck, cleaning off everything you left on his hand, eyes never leaving yours.

If it wasn't for the streetlights, you would've missed the way his intense stare darkens even more, and your chest tightens. You slightly whimper, and he takes a sharp inhale.

"Just wait until we get home."

If you thought the want you felt during game night was terrible, being in the car with Grayson was even worse. The air heavy with anticipation of the rest of the night, both of you taking long glances at the other, wanting to have each other then and there. A part of you was surprised that Grayson hadn't just pulled over for car sex. Still, you did pick up how his speed considerably increased and the low curses whenever he was stuck behind a slow driver.

It didn't take long after that, only ten minutes before you were pulling into the driveway. Both of you taking a moment, silently preparing yourself for whatever laid ahead.

"Ladies first," Grayson smirks, coming around to open your car door for you. He pulls you towards him, giving you a deep kiss while simultaneously trying to get you even closer. It's messy and desperate, teeth knocking into each other and tongues frantically colliding. You were almost positive that if you didn't stop this soon, Grayson would just take you on the hood of the car.

"Baby, the door." You suggest, not really in the mood for another complaint from your neighbors. He obliges, sucking hickeys onto your neck while walking you to the door.

It was safe to say you were distracted, more occupied with whatever Grayson was doing with your body than unlocking the door. It only took the third time of you dropping the keys before he chuckles,

"Need some help?" He takes the keys from you and unlocks the door before continuing to make out with you. It's dark, and your grateful for Grayson's sense of direction as he moves you back towards his room, stripping you of your dress along the way. You break the kiss, reaching around to pull off his hoodie, leaving a nice trail of clothes on the way back.

You're both panting heavily when you finally reach his bed, both only in your underwear. He looks down at you for a moment, uncertain of what he wants to do you first. You, however, had your mind made up from the moment that stupid game night began and sink to your knees.

You place an open mouth kiss on the wet spot forming on his briefs, slightly sucking on the tip of his erection. He groans somewhat, letting you indulge for a second. However, once your hands reach for his waistband, he pulls you back up and pushes you back onto the bed.

"What was it I said earlier, ladies first?" He has a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes at his childness. He starts to pull your underwear off, blowing soft air onto your clit and watching as you clench around nothing. He leaves soft kisses on your inner thigh, sucking dark bruises while you moan. You place a hand in his hair, hoping to guide him where you need him most.

"God, it's like heaven sent you to me." He whispers before finally diving in, giving your pussy a sloppy kiss. If you weren't overwhelmed by pleasure, your heart would melt. Forgoing any teasing, Grayson continues to make out with your lower half, desperate to get you to cum and slurping any wetness you leak out for him. He's hopeless for you, snaking one hand up to play with your nipple while the other starts rubbing circles onto your clit.

Already you know you're not going to last long, waves building in your stomach as you feel your orgasm slowly approaching. You start to subconsciously grind your hips into his mouth, moaning louder and louder before he leans back, removing both his hands and his mouth, leaving you to whine as whatever pleasure you were feeling die out. You take a long look at Grayson, almost crying at how wrecked he looks. His mouth is swollen, glistening with your juices, and his hair is sticking up from where you were raking your hands through it. His eyes are dark, and you watch as he slowly stares at the way your ch before looking at the ceiling, palming at his dick.

"Gray?" You ask, a little concerned, and leaning up to reach out for him. He lays a large hand against your stomach to push you back down.

"Just... just give me a second." He grits out, still not making eye contact with you and nostrils flaring. Any other time, you would probably oblige, giving him, however long he needed to calm down in order to continue. However, you've been waiting for hours to cum, and after feeling your orgasm so close, you were sure you would start crying if you didn't cum soon.

So you move a small hand down to your clit, and start circling softly. You begin leaking onto the mattress, wishing it was Grayson touching you instead. You swipe up some more of your wetness, inserting a finger and pumping slowly.

Grayson looks down at you, heart dropping when he sees you fingering yourself.

"Y/N." He says, warningly, not being able to tear his eyes away from you. You add another finger, curling deeper, so you're hitting your g-spot.

"Gray," You mewl, "wish it was you instead." He leans down, moving your legs so he has a better view, and already you feel your orgasm building again. There was something unbelievably hot about this, watching Grayson watch you get yourself off. You've never thought about this in your deepest fantasies, and yet, you were already addicted to the way his eyes followed your finger's movements.

It only takes a few more pumps of your fingers and a slight pinch of your nipple before your cumming hard, waves of pleasure overwhelming your body. You pant heavily, Grayson stroking your hair as it works through you. You look up at him, noticing how desperately turned on he looks. From the way his pupils have almost covered his iris to his heavy breathing, you would've thought he came with you if it wasn't for his still solid erection forming a tent in his briefs.

You reach over for his waistband, mouth drooling, and ready to go again with how unbelievably sexy he looks. He understands and pulls down his underwear before standing over you. Your mouth drops slightly. You look up at your boyfriend, even more attracted to how wrecked he looks.

"You're too good to be true." You whisper, always amazed by the sight of your naked boyfriend. He's so pretty like this, tattooed thighs framing his cock. It bobs slightly as he moves up to kiss you, tip red and leaking precum. You make out briefly before he's leaning back, spitting on your clit.

You moan loudly. "Gray"

"Yeah."

"Fuck me, please. I need to feel you inside me." His breath hitches as you reach down, rubbing a thumb over his tip and spreading his precum across the head. He shudders slightly, leaning down to spit on your pussy again before slowly inserting you.

You both moan, knowing this isn't going to take much time for either of you. Grayson thrusts slowly, rolling his hips into yours, so his pubic bone brushes onto your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you dig your nails into his back, leaving angry indents of crescent moons. You link your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"Gray," You whine out. "More, please." Your voice sounds so broken, and that does it for him, snapping his hips into you unrelentingly. Your eyes roll back into your head, not being able to cope with the pleasure his harsh thrusts are giving you.

The coil in your stomach starts to build again, and you clench involuntarily around him, causing his rhythm to stutter.

"Fuck, you're so tight." His voice cracks, and you could've cum then and there. It only takes a slight pinch of your nipple and a few rubs at your clit before your cumming loudly and dragging your nails down his back.

He continues to fuck your through your orgasm, balls tightening at the blissed, fucked out expression on your face.

"Gray, cum in me please. Fill me up" And even though Grayson knew he wasn't going to last much longer, that does it for him. His thrust slow, sloppily cumming inside you before stopping completely.

You're both still, each other's heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. Grayson is the first one to speak,

"I think that's the best sex we've ever had." He reaches over to dap you up, and you snort, rolling your eyes while returning the gesture.

"Love you."

"Love you more." You kiss him softly, knowing your love is forever infinite for him.

#this is so filthy i’m so sorry #also i forgot how much i fucking hate writing smut #grayson dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan fic #dolan twins #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins smut #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fic #blazedwritings

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Honey & Sweetheart

Spoilers for Season 15x20 finale

Summary: The reader talks to Jensen and a special friend about struggling with parts of the finale...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1,700ish

Warnings: language, spoilers

A/N: I wrote this one more for me than anyone else but if you feel similarly to how I do, I hope it helps you a bit like it did for me...

______

“Honey,” said Jensen as you stared out the window over the kitchen sink. “Oven’s going off.”

You spun and heard the beeping from the timer but he was already pulling on oven gloves. He took out the dish and set it on the counter, taking off the mitts with a strange look.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” he asked. You shrugged and he stepped behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist. “Still thinking about the finale?”

“It was a few days ago,” you said.

“Honey. I thought you said you liked it Thursday night.”

“Oh course I said I liked it. This thing has been a part of you for so long. You’ve been with the show longer than we’ve even known each other. I am so proud of you and the guys and everything you did.”

“But.”

“But I’m so angry and sad at what they did to Dean. I wish I’d asked you to tell me the end over a year ago when you found out instead me wanting to be surprised. I’m so mad because there was a sign all over your face about how it would go and I ignored it because I thought you were upset they would both live quiet normal lives and not go out blaze of glory. I should have said something. I would have called somebody.”

“Honey no one would have listened,” he sighed. “That was the ending always.”

“They should have listened to what you thought about it.”

“It was decided before I walked in the room.”

“I get it. It’s just not fair you had to do what they said with no say of your own. No one on earth knows Dean better than you and they ignored you and that’s wrong.”

“I’m not a writer, Y/N. I didn’t have a good idea.”

“Why the fuck did we just make a production company if you don’t have the ability to come up with ideas then?” you shot back. He stepped away and started to walk out of the kitchen when he paused. “I’m sorry. I know you had no choice. I’m sorry you’re telling me it’s okay as much as I’m telling you lately. I should be taking care of you. He deserved so fucking better though.”

“I know he did,” said Jensen quietly. “I know some people liked it. Some hated it. The general consensus I’ve gotten one or the other is that yeah, most agree he deserved better. I knew he did. But it’s done and I can’t change it.”

“I know, honey,” you said. You nodded and he stepped closer again, resting his hands on your arms and cocking his head.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice lower and you looked up at him. You stared and he smiled.

“Jensen don’t-”

“That’s not my name,” he said, still smirking at you. “You do realize I’m like right here, sweetheart. Anytime you want me I’m right here.”

“No you’re not. You died a stupid death. I would have taken a stabbing, a bite, a shot, a sacrifice, so many other ways. A fucking accidental death for you was stupid. Some think it’s poetic and realistic but I don’t,” you said. He shrugged and you bit your bottom lip.

“You were always gonna be upset if I died though.”

“Because your character grew the fuck up and knew he could have more in life. You should have gotten to have more than a dog for a week. You deserved everything Sam got too. I deserved to see that was Eileen he ended up with. I deserved to see that Cas and everyone Dean cared about was in his eventual heaven when he was an old, old man. I deserved so much better than a premature death.”

“I was forty one.”

“Jensen’s forty two. So if he keels over I’m supposed to say aw shucks he lived long enough, it’s cool? I wanted you to have everything you fucking deserve. What was the fucking point of you growing all that time for you to die from fucking rebar on a run of the mill hunt? You died just like you thought you would as a kid and I fucking hate that. Just because it is how you thought you would go out does not mean it-”

He leaned down and kissed you hard, resting his forehead against yours as he broke off.

“I never said it was a perfect ending, sweetheart. Write your own story. Write how I come back. Take it from me, I know a guy, hot guy, you may be acquainted with him and he really wants to come back in a few years once he’s gotten some space. He wants to take more control if that happens. He will he promises. He wants someone that cares as much as he does to help him figure that out. So you gonna help him out and figure out that perfect ending for me? That way to bring me back? You know this world. We break the rules all the time. You could have me back in a heartbeat. What do you say? Gonna help him and his friends out?”

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“I know you see yourself in me, sweetheart. I know you look up to me. I’ve heard from our mutual friend,” he said. You turned your head away and felt tears build up again for the millionth time in the past week. His fingers grazed your cheek and turned you back to face him. “So I deserved better. I deserved a long and happy life. Just because I deserved it and didn’t get it doesn’t mean that your story ends up like mine.”

You blinked and he smiled, stroking your cheek.

“You can have your happy ending. Keep going towards it. Don’t ever stop. You deserve your happy ending too. But you’re writing your story. You can take control in a way I couldn’t. You deserve happiness and you’ll get it. Don’t be scared it’ll go away, sweetheart.”

“I hadn’t thought of that until just now,” you breathed out.

“I know. Don’t be scared for you is all I ask. Go figure out my comeback story and figure out how to give me some kickass hunter wife and I get the kids and house and whole nine yards. You figure that out for me cause you need it and I’m not opposed to it. In the meantime, I’m gonna hang around with our mutual friend. Well I’m always gonna be around him but I’ll be around if you want to talk. Just say so. I’m gonna tag along the ride of his happiness for now okay?”

“You’re such a dork,” you said as you nodded and rested your head against his chest. “But I fucking love you. Both of you.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m okay. I promise. I want you to be too. If our friend tries to take care of you, do me a favor and let him? He’s not the only one allowed to feel so strongly about this.”

“Okay, Dean,” you said with a smile. “I think I feel better now.”

“It’s okay, honey,” said Jensen, his voice lighter as you hugged him.

“Thanks for doing that. I needed it,” you said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he chuckled. “But maybe listen to our friend. He made some good points.”

“I’ll still be upset about it all, maybe forever, but I’ll be okay,” you said. He kissed your temple and you shut your eyes, holding onto him. “Would it bother you if I honestly said there was parts of it I didn’t like at this moment?”

“It’d only bother me if you pretended to like it because you think that’d make me happy. You can support me and be proud of me without loving 100% of it. I have my own thoughts and opinions on it all, you can have yours too...plus I wouldn’t mind seeing your way of mixing it all up...you gonna pull the boys out of heaven?”

“Maybe. A few years from now, if you’re ever really serious about what you said, own it. Make those choices yourself.”

“Yes mam,” he said, kissing you again. “Want to go see if the new coat rack I put up in the mudroom earlier looks alright? I think I really nailed it.”

You stared at him and he giggled as he broke away.

“Too soon. So too soon,” you said as he pulled you with him towards the far side of the house.

“You cry and stress bake. I use bad humor and talking to Dean to cope. We all got out methods,” he said. “But seriously, I think I nailed it.”

“Jensen. You need to stop.”

“I’m gonna take a selfie with it and make that joke on instagram. Everyone’s gonna love that,” he chuckled.

“You need to calm down with the shitty jokes on instagram young man,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“You laughed. I won,” he said, booping your nose. “Thanks for telling me how you really feel about the end though. The end for now at least.”

“Just gotta keep teasing me with that don’t you,” you smiled.

“Not a tease, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a wink. “Maybe we can get Dean with a beard and some swearing, what do you say?”

“Maybe I could get a preview of that?” you asked.

“You certainly fucking can,” he smirked, voice low again.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely on the list,” you laughed. He cocked his head and kissed you gently, picking you up off the ground. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

______

#spn spoilers #dontspoilthefinalhunt #spn season 15 spoilers #jensen x reader #spn season 15x20 spoilers #spn #supernatural #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen imagine #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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kellanswritingblog · 3 years

Text

The blade sank into flesh. Jon’s fingers clutched Martin’s shirt with the initial shock and pain, but as his breath grew shallower, they began to fall slack.

Even above Martin’s sobs and the sound of the explosion closing in, static began to reverberate in the room until it filled the panopticon. Martin shut his eyes as it grew louder and louder until it was the only thing left.

As the heat of the burning Archives engulfed him, the static stopped.

Martin looked around to find a void the colors of an oil slick, with thousands of cassette tapes stretched into the distance to reach words unknown and uncharted. He still held Jon in his arms and had no intention of letting go.

They were falling. Or perhaps they were rising? They were moving, and tapes attempted to bar their path. Martin passed through them with no trouble, as if they didn’t affect him, but they clung to Jon’s body and pulled at him, trying to catch him and yank him away from Martin’s grasp.

No. He would not let go.

He clung tighter to Jon and wrapped his legs around him too in order to hold on as tight as he could when the tapes threatened to take him away from him, to suspend him in an abyss where nothing existed save for the screams that traveled along the web of film.

Martin continued to fall – or rise, or move – though the tapes caught at Jon’s body. As Martin traversed this plane between worlds, his desperation dragged Jon with him, snapping lines of film. With each tendril threatening to claw Jon away from his grasp, he only held on tighter.

And then, as suddenly as it had stopped, the static began again, roaring and cacophonous, inundating every one of Martin’s senses. All he could feel was the noise and the limp form of Jon in his arms.

With eyes shut tight, Martin let out a yell, and then he slammed to a halt with echoes of static in his ears.

When the static faded, there were… birds? It sounded like birds. Chirping and singing like they used to, before the world went wrong. Was this heaven? Martin didn’t really expect to get into heaven, not after his involvement in the literal apocalypse.

He carefully opened his eyes to find himself in what looked like an empty living room. However, he didn’t take any more time to examine his surroundings, as all his attention turned to Jon.

“Jon? Jon! Please…”

Martin had been squeezing him so tightly through the abyss, and now he loosened his grip to look him over, searching for any sign of life. He couldn’t lose him, he couldn’t.

He killed him.

Before Martin could give up hope entirely, a quiet, tiny breath escaped Jon’s lips.

“Jon! Alright, hang on, Jon, I’m going to get help. Just keep breathing, just… please.”

He didn’t know if Jon could hear him, or if the breath had just been a figment of his imagination, but he had to try. Martin stood and raced from the living room and into the street outside, where birds continued to sing as if everything Martin had left wasn’t about to be stripped away.

“Please! Someone call an ambulance! He’s been stabbed, I need help, he’s barely breathing!”

He realized that it probably wasn’t a good look to be screaming in the middle of the street while covered in blood – Jon’s blood – but it was his only chance. He didn’t even know if they had ambulances in this reality. All he could do was scream and hope.

At some point, Martin collapsed on the pavement and started to sob. His adrenaline had been running so high for so long, and finally the realization of what he’d done hit him like a train. Jon was going to die, the Fears were loose upon the multiverse, and it was all his fault.

He barely heard the sirens approaching or the squeal of a vehicle screeching to a stop. Someone bundled him inside the back of the ambulance, and, a few moments later, a stretcher was wheeled in beside him. The doors slammed shut and the vehicle started to move as the people inside shouted instructions and asked questions of Martin, but he couldn’t understand any of the words. He could only focus on Jon and the slow beeping from the machinery.

He was still alive.

***

Martin had grown accustomed to the sounds of the hospital, so when the machinery started to hum and beep in a different way, he awoke from where he sat and looked around anxiously.

It had been days. He had already spent so long at Jon’s bedside, in another time, in another world, hoping beyond hope, just as he did now. But Jon woke up then. He survived before.

And, against all odds, he survived again.

His eyes blinked open, and he tried to move, before his body gave out and he slumped back into the hospital bed with a grunt of pain.

“Hey, take it easy, you’re alright,” Martin said as he lunged to Jon’s side. He was already crying as he took Jon’s hand into his own.

“Wh… where are we?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s London, somewhere,” he explained. “But I can’t tell you more than that.”

Jon’s roving eyes finally settled on Martin’s, and he smiled.

“We made it? We actually… ended up somewhere else…”

“Seems like it. I don’t know how. And you barely made it.”

Jon looked down at the bandages that crisscrossed his chest. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Tears clattered onto their joined hands.

“It’s okay. You did what had to be done. And we’re together. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have plenty of other scars.”

Martin choked out a laugh between his sobs. “This one is a little different though.”

“I suppose. What matters is that we’re here. Together.”

Martin couldn’t look away from Jon, so full of surprise and awe that he was alive. After a bit, though, he reached behind him and pulled his chair closer, so that he could sit beside Jon and still hold onto him. Even if they didn’t feel the exertion while trekking through hellscapes, Martin’s body was starting to feel it now.

“How are you?” Jon asked. “I know I’m the one that got stabbed, but… I doubt you got away completely unscathed.”

“I got some burns, but they’re nothing serious. We were pulled through before the panopticon could really start to fall. But I’m exhausted. I think the whole walking through domains and not sleeping or eating for who-knows-how-long thing finally hit me. Even though we did get some rest in the tunnels and Salesa’s, that didn’t make up for it all. And I’m starving; I have eaten so many chocolate pudding cups.”

Jon let out a laugh, then grimaced and gripped his chest.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make you laugh.”

“No, no, please. I want to laugh. I want to smile and hope and live. And I want to do it all with you. Maybe we have a chance for that now.”

“I hope so,” Martin said with a wide smile, then he added, “Well, there is the slight issue of explaining how you ended up in some random house with a stab wound, and how I found you… There have been a lot of questions about that.”

“Oh.”

“But we can deal with that later. Right now, let’s just focus on both of us being alive and safe.”

Jon nodded. His eyes were glistening with tears.

Martin lifted Jon’s hand to his lips kissed it slowly, then held it against his cheek and breathed him in.

“I love you,” Martin said.

“I love you too. It’s a new start for us.”

“It is. I’m both excited and terrified to see how it all works out.”

“Martin,” Jon replied softly, “as long as you’re with me, it’s going to be perfect.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #tma spoilers #tma 200 #mag 200 #yes I will write them being okay in every reality and no one can stop me #stabbing cw #blood cw #hospital cw

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impala-in-gotham · 3 years

Text

This Destiel/finale fix-it ficlet I wrote...

This is my first attempt at writing fic so be gentle haha but I had a dream close to this and kinda tweaked it from there but it’s basically a finale fix-it in which I’ve decided Dean’s still alive. He lost consciousness a few sentences into his speech and imagined the rest, which is what we saw. There’s just too much about “heaven” that has been used before as a façade. So here goes…

“Okay. P-Please. I'm fading pretty quick, so...there's a few things that I-...” before he can even start the next words Dean’s head lolls to the side and his eyes fall closed.

Sam feels like everything is moving in slow motion as the nightmare of losing his brother plays out in front of his eyes.

“Dean??”

Sam holds Dean in place the best he can and his dread drains away slightly as he hears Dean’s shallow breaths despite his sudden loss of consciousness.

Sam's thoughts start racing, time-induced panic ticking away. Nothing they haven’t dealt with before but this isn’t Chuck’s tale of heroes anymore. It’s just them now.

"Shit, shit, shit...the nearest hospital is still too far...I can't...there's too many bodies to even try to explain...I can't even let Dean go to hide them...shit. Shit...Jack!"

"Hang on, Dean. Just hang on as long as you can. I'll fix this."

Sam prays loudly into the empty barn, "Jack?? Jack, I know you can see this, I hope you can do something, please. It can't end like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not after everything we've been through, everything Dean's survived, he doesn't deserve this. You know he doesn't. Please, Jack. He's not gone yet, he can still be saved. I'm not asking for resurrection here, just...just heal him, please, he deserves to be saved."

As if on cue, the barn roof starts to rattle, a few bulbs burst overhead and Cas walks through the barn doors, rushing to their side while Sam's eyes widen in shock.

"Cas?!? but...", Sam stammers out with only a little bit of shock and a lot more relief.

Cas darts his eyes straight at him and it feels like he's looking straight at his soul.

"Sam, I need you to hold him steady, I'll start healing, but I need you to slowly pull him forward as I heal, alright?... Sam?!...Ok?!"

"Yeah...Yes...Ok, I'm ready.", Sam’s words stumble out as he refocuses onto Dean's weight in his arms.

The familiar golden glow pours from Cas steadier than it did the last time Sam watched him heal Dean's hand. So easily that Sam is holding all of Dean's weight mere seconds later. Cas helps him lay Dean down. Dean's breathing has evened out, but his face is still clammy and pale.

Cas holds Dean's head in his lap for a few moments, as he pulls off his trench coat and folds it up as a makeshift pillow, easing his head onto it. The care and intimacy of the moment, it feels like Sam needs to look away, but then Cas stands and looks up at the relief and tears on Sam's face.

"He'll be alright, Sam. He lost a fair amount of blood so he just nee-".

Sam practically slams his entire body into Cas as he crushes him into a hug, "Cas, I can't believe you're here. Of course, you're here. You saved him. You always save him. Thank you, Cas. I didn't know what to do. Jack said he'd be hands-off but it's Dean."

"Of course. Jack sent me as soon as he heard you. We’re lucky we made it in time.", Cas looks around at the lifeless bodies and their lost heads strewn about, "I'll help you clean this up but first, I'll get those boys home."

As Sam piles up the bodies a familiar but long since heard sound of wings flutter near Dean and Cas is back. He's looking down at Dean with such adoration but with his matter-of-fact tone states, "They're back with their mother, who was thankful to you both...and to have her tongue healed back. I took the liberty of altering their memories. They shouldn't have to live with that trauma." His eyes still lost to watching Dean’s chest rise and fall.

"You got your wings back," Sam says without realizing he thought it aloud.

Cas smiles coyly and looks back at Sam, visibly spreading them out, while Sam watches in awe as their shadows encompass the barn behind him. "Along with a few other powers I've missed now that Jack has restored heaven to what it should be."

Sam sighs, "Yeah, about that..."

While cleaning up the barn, Sam and Cas catch each other up on what happened since they last saw each other. Sam talks about defeating Chuck, Jack bringing everyone back, and how mundane the past months of freedom have been. Cas tells Sam how Jack rescued him from the Empty as well as other angels like Michael (with Adam), Gabriel, Hannah, Samandriel, and Balthazar to name a few.

Sam throws his lighter into the pile of vamps and looks over at Cas, "It's great to have you back, Cas. Dean didn't...well more like couldn't I guess. He couldn't talk about you much after... all he told us was you made a deal and you summoned the Empty to save him from Billie...but after that, he could barely say your name. Didn't stop him from asking Chuck to bring you back", he says with a small smirk, then presses his lips together and sighs, "but it was like a part of him had shut down or just broke. He wouldn't tell me and if you don't want to, I won't push it but you're my best friend, Cas and I...I still don’t know...Can you tell me what happened?"

Cas looks into Sam's puppy dog eyes, now glistening either from the fire or the topic, and then over at Dean still peacefully asleep a few feet away. He reaches out his grace and maybe Dean's soul recognizes it because he is sleeping soundly as if he hasn't in months. Cas guesses that's probably true. Contemplating how much of the story is his to tell and how much Dean would allow him to say since Sam and Cas both know it's not that he won't, he can't.

Cas reaches out and squeezes Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, I didn't have a choice. I knew it was the only way to beat Chuck. That only you and Dean could find a way. I made the deal to save Jack when he was dying, the Shadow agreed to take me instead but not until I had experienced true happiness. With Chuck in charge, any happiness seemed impossible, but I thought proving to Dean that he is worth saving, that all he's ever done was driven by love, not anger, prove to him why I love him." His voice betrays him by cracking on the last words. Still new to his mouth and his ears.

Cas searches Sam's face for any sort of shock or surprise but finds none. Instead, there’s a kind understanding that only Sam would have.

Sam sighs and says, "That's why." he continues as Cas' head tilts, "When we faced Chuck, he called Dean the ultimate killer but Dean just walked past him, no anger or malice, and just said 'that's not who I am'. It was because of you. He must have finally started to see himself the way you see him. How we all see him."

Cas brightens at that, looking back over at Dean, "Then it worked. The only thing I ever wanted was for Dean to love himself. I didn't ever think I'd be enough. That how I feel about him was enough after everything...after every time I tried to prove it. It was never enough before."

Sam smiles warmly, "You were enough, Cas. I've been trying almost our whole lives to get Dean to believe he wasn't a killer, that his life was worth more. I think we all tried, but you got through to him. He tried so hard after you...he tried but I could tell he was forcing it. Tonight, before you got here, it sounded like he'd given up. It sounded like the last time we lost you.” Sam shakes his head, trying to push away the image of Dean plunging a syringe into his heart, “Cas…every time we lost you it's been hard. For me too, but for Dean... it's different, each time it was different. He’d close himself off. He’d lose all faith. He’d give up. He’d want to die. I think...I think that he loves you more than he lets on. He's better when you're back. He's only happy when you're back."

Cas looks back over at Sam, a trace of a smile, "I know. I always felt it, just... well", he huffs, "We both know he's not one for words. But I know how he feels. I think his fear was more so in having something to lose. We’ve lost each other too many times."

The fire is dying down with the bodies not quite recognizable. Sam collects their gear into Baby's trunk. Cas walks out of the barn carrying Dean as if he's as light as a feather. Sam offers to drive Baby back to the bunker if Cas wants to fly Dean back instead. Cas nods and another flutter of wings echoes in the space left behind. Sam climbs into Baby, places his hands tightly on the wheel, closes his eyes, and prays to Jack.

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

A few hours later, Dean wakes up. He slowly realizes he's back in the bunker, he's in his room, there's no pain in his back, and his hand is being held. He looks over to meet gleaming blue eyes he thought he’d never see again and can barely get anything out. “Cas... but how... you...?” and just pulls him into an awkwardly angled hug but holds on so tightly. It's just them. He doesn't have a time limit.

Dean feels as Cas inhales to explain but Dean cuts him off with “It doesn’t matter how. Is this real? Are you really back? For good."

Cas smiles as if his true happiness reaches a new level and simply says, “Hello, Dean." tightening his embrace, "Yes, Jack brought me back-- new and improved”.

Dean holds him and breathes in that familiar ozone smell, feels the pulse of grace within him stronger than before, something only he seems to be able to feel. "I thought I lost you forever. I thought you...wait," he pulls back to look at Cas again, "Didn't I die? I was in heaven, but it felt...wrong, you were there but you didn't come to see me, Bobby was there but he didn't even hug me after... what? 8 years?! No one else showed up. I just drove to a bridge…Tell me you didn't make a deal or -" his face freezes and his entire body goes tense, "Where's Sam?"

"No, you didn't die. Sam prayed to Jack and I came straight to you. You're healed but the blood loss left you pretty lethargic; though, I think that was your own exhaustion. Sam’s fine, he took the Impala. Should be here soon. You’re safe, it was just a dream. Those boys are back with their mother. I healed her. Altered their memories. Everyone's safe now. Sam told me everything that happened since...I...," a brief sadness flashes in his eyes before he brightens and smiles at Dean, "I knew you would save the world."

“I’ve been trying to find a way into the Empty for months, Cas. I…I read everything I could find but there was barely anything. I tried to use your blood from the sigil to summon you like what Nick tried to do but I guess I didn’t get the ingredients right or I don’t know…nothing worked. Jack never answered any of my prayers but I kept asking him to bring you back. I tried--…”

“Dean.” The tone over that one syllable calmed Dean the same way only Cas has always managed to be able to do.

Cas continued, “I’m back. Jack only recently was able to get me back but he heard your prayers. It took a lot of time and bargaining to get me and as many angels as we could save back out. The Shadow’s asleep again. I’m back and I’m not going anywhere. This is my home. I’m home.”

Dean sits processing this. Shaking off the fake heaven and submerging himself in Cas being alive and here. Now. In his grasp. He doesn't know how he gets to have a second...or seventh? chance but all that matters is everyone he loves, everyone he cares about is safe.

Dean meets Cas’s eyes and stares into the bright, deep blue he's fallen in love with so many times, eyes that have seen every part of who he is, good and bad, and says, “I love you too, Cas.”

Cas smiles very much like he did before the Empty was summoned but without tears because the one thing he wants is right in front of him. Looking at him like he is the most important being in every possible alternate universe. Still so beautiful.

Dean's eyes drift to Cas's lips as they have many times before, asking the same question Cas has yet to answer. Cas places a hand behind the base of Dean's neck, his fingers warm and strong as they pull Dean closer. Finally, their lips come together and it feels like no other kiss either of them has ever had. It feels like swirling grace entangling into his soul; it feels like being healed. It feels like every jagged piece of each other is clicking into place, completing and filling what was empty and longing before. It feels like being saved.

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

Sam parks in the garage and leaves everything as-is to deal with later. He heads down the hallway to check on Dean when suddenly the overhead lights flicker but before he can run for iron or salt, the bulbs burst. First the one over Dean's door, then a few more heading his direction, then nothing. Sam relaxes and sighs deeply, “Finally!”

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