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#this will probably kill my stomach but so tempted.. so tempted...
lovverletters · 8 months
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👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.
Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)
So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.
Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.
Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.
No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!
♡♡♡
♡Bunny
Yandere! Serial Killer
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A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude
T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"
The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?
It could be them.
It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.
[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.
"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.
Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.
[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.
However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.
What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Everything went wrong.
It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.
[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.
"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.
Fuck. They're not bored anymore.
[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.
They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!
Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.
The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.
"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.
The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?
Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.
"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.
"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.
Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.
Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.
"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.
The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.
"M' courting you cause' I love you"
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
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spctrsgf · 1 year
Text
morning banter
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summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)
a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy
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Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.
Don’t worry about it.
“Jake.”
Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.
“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”
Yeah you do.
“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”
Don’t bring me into this. 
C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.
“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”
Go to sleep, puta.
“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”
You deserved it.
“You wanna know what you deserve?”
Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?
“A fucking pun–”
His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 
But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 
Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 
Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.
“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.
HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.
“Sure, whatever.”
Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.
Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.
Or, he tried to.
“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 
Marc freezes. “Baby?”
“Mmmmm?” 
“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”
“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”
He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”
“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”
“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.
“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”
“Do we?”
“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”
“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”
You giggle softly. “That’s true.”
“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”
“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 
“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.
“Nope.”
His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”
“Not even because I’m asking you?”
“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”
“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 
You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”
“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”
“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”
Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”
“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”
“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 
“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”
“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”
“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.
He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.
“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”
“You can't leave me hanging like that!”
You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”
For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.
“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”
You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”
He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”
“You manipulated me! I hate you.”
“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”
“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”
“Hey, let’s calm down–”
“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”
Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.
“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”
He nods frantically. “Of course–”
“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.
The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?
It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 
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translations (HELP I FORGOT):
es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit
puta - bitch
i felt very fancy using these
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kelppsstuff · 3 months
Text
Dancing
Masterlist
Warnings: blood, killing, cannibalism
Human Alastor x reader
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Alastor sat at the bar, his eye twitching at the loud mouths sitting beside him. It was a group of three boys and they were so loud most couldn’t hear the sound of the woman singing.
Alastor clenched his jaw, ready to take these assholes outside and kill them. Though the sound of a lovely voice stopped him.
“Sorry to cut your fun short boys, but some of us would actually like the music over your annoying voices.” Alastor turned his head — along with the other men — and saw you.
(H/C) paired with beautiful (E/C) hues. You looked like a goddess with your black flapper dress hugging your body. Showing off every curves your body had to offer.
Before the men could make a snarky reply to your face, you walked off. The pearls around your neck bouncing with each confident step you took.
“Fucking whore.” One of the men said, his ego clearly bruised by you. Alastor grip tightened around his glass of whiskey. Fucking disrespectful ignorant assholes, he thought. He downed the last sip of his whiskey and walked of after you.
When he caught up to you he was quick to introduce himself. “I’m Alastor. You are?” He spoke his voice remained indifferent but his eyes showed his curiosity. You smile and you took his out stretched hand. “Y/N.” You said as he kissed the back of your right hand.
Alastor smiled widened you told him your name. What a beautiful name. “Y/N” your name rolled of his tongue with ease. “Would you care to dance?” He spoke his question as the singer changed and a faster pace song started. “Why it would be a pleasure, Alastor.” He took you by the hand and started to twirl you around.
He had spent the night, dancing, drinking, and he even performed a song with you; courtesy of his dear friend Mimsy. 
“You’ve never heard of me of the radio?” Alastor asked, his voice in shock as if that would be impossible. “Unfortunately I’m not wealthy enough to own one. Probably my fault for coming here and drinking too much gin.” Alastor smiled, amused by the woman in-front of him. “That’s quite a shame.” You were about to continue your conversation when the same men from before started to become loud again. Alastor could see the irritation form in you, just as you could see it form in him.
As the night started to come to an end you wished him farewell as you walked out the door. Alastor noticed the three men from before follow you out. He went to go after them. He a devilish thoughts on what to do with them. Not only were they rude to everyone but being obnoxious, one had insulted you and he planned on making his death slow and painful.
He got distracted for just a minute and lost them. He started to curse himself, but he knew he’d get another chance.
He headed down the ally to get to him home only to be met with you licking the blood of a knife. Three men laid in front of you, all dead from stab wounds. You were covered in blood, your hair wet with it, you pearls stained of red, and your legs had streaks of bright crimson. He originally thought you looked heaven-sent, but as he saw you know heaven-sent wasn’t the right word. Ravishing was a better way to describe your tempting allure.
Alastor walked out the shadows and made himself known to you. “Looks like there’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
You eyes widen, you had been sure no one was following you four into the ally way. Alastor grabbed your left hand, as your right held the knife, and kissed it. He licked his lips and tasted the blood on your hands.
“Are you going to tell?” You could feel the panic bubbling in your stomach, but you didn’t show it.
“And why would I tell on such a splendid performance.” Alastor dropped your hand and grabbed the knife from you. Liking the rest of the blood off, just like you did before. “I must say, I am saddened you gotten to them first.”
You smiled at the tall man, “maybe next time I’ll catch you.” Alastor handed you back you knife. “Or maybe, we’ll both commit the act together.” He spoke.
“Care to dance?” He offered you a hand, making you raise a brow. “There’s no music.” You grabbed his hand.
He twirled you into his chest, the blood on you seeking into his white shirt a bit. “We can make our own.”
HIIII! I know this is short, but the idea came to me and I decided to write it. If you’ve seen my other “how long” fic then you should know that I’m working on the last and final part and it should be out very very soon! AND ALSO I AM WORKING ON ANOTHER REQUEST AS WELL!
-kelp 💛
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teyums · 1 year
Text
His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader
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part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter
wc: 4.3k
a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗
contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict
“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change
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Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.
“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.
“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.
Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.
He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.
He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”
He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.
“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”
No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.
Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?
Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”
The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.
He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.
His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.
“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.
“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.
“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent.  “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.
Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.
This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.
“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.
He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?
“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.
Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.
By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.
Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.
His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.
He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.
He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.
His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?
“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”
Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.
His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.
Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.
He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.
“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.
“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”
~~~
Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.
You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.
“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.
You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.” Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.
She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.
“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.
Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.
She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.
“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.
A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.
Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.
You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.
Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.
You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.
Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.
How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.
“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.
By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.
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a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet
This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔
Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞
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Stranger, Danger
Pairings: Rick Grimes x teen!reader (platonic)
Imagine: You have been alone for a while now, until you meet Rick
Warnings: Walkers, mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of corpses, mention of dying parents, mention of death, dehydration, mention of not having eaten anything in a few days, mention of walkers eating people, mention of killing, anyone who has seen twd knows what’s in it so probably knows some stuff that might be in this, idk what else, pls write if you find something
A/N So Rick I love him with all my heart and nothing will change that so if you want to request anything with him or some other TWD character pls do <3
And yes this is kinda shitty and not proofread bc I hate proofreading, gif isn’t mine either found it somewhere on google, anyway I hope you all have a great day :)
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Walking. It was all you had done your entire life. Well at least it felt like that. Your feet were sore and your boots and socks felt like they had drowned in water. Your hair stuck to your head by sweat and your backpack was held together with a piece of rope. You didn’t have any water left and no food. There were no berries in the forest you were currently in and you felt like dying of exhaustion on the spot you stood at.
It had been this way for a while. You had once been tempted to end it all. But you didn’t know if you were too much of a coward or if you were driven by your parents. At least you felt like a coward, you didn’t end it all to meet your parents again, like they told you to do if they ever died. But maybe you had twisted their words. Maybe that hadn’t been what they said. No. They hadn’t. It had been such a long time ago that you didn’t remember their voices anymore. Nor did you remember what they said. You had just desperately clung to some sentence you once heard from someone. Until you thought your parents were the ones who said it. But they didn’t. You knew that deep inside. Because they were the only ones you could ever trust with your life. Not even the group the three of you had once been in.
The first group had been horrible and it didn’t take long for your little family to leave. The next group died except for your family. The only thing you remembered from that time was that you felt like you had cheated death. You had in some kind of way, your parents too. But death always collects what’s theirs. Don’t they?
At least death had collected your parents. Why it spared you, you’d never know but that’s how it is. And will continue to be. You always got spared. All the groups you've ever been in, you’d been the only survivor. The time a herd came upon you when you accidentally wandered out alone in the woods. The time your parents died. The walkers had ripped the meat that were once your parents' dead corpses away. Just before that a group of men had killed your parents, shot them in the stomach until they bled out to death. They hadn’t even cared to stick something in their heads so that they wouldn’t turn. No, the group of men had left that for you to do. You eventually did, not wanting them to turn. But you had still stayed with the dead corpses not willing yourself to leave as warm tears ran down your cheeks. Silent sobs racking through your body. The herd had come a while later. But somehow you got away. You cheated death once more.
Until now. You genuinely thought you’d die. The man in front of you still held the gun pointed straight at your face. You were frozen. It was never good to run when someone held a gun pointed your way. “Maybe this was it” you thought “maybe you’d finally meet your parents again”. But you had no such luck. You’d cheated death once more.
It was strange. Just moments before he talked to you in a low, calm and dangerous voice, telling you to slowly turn around. But when you did so, he’d lowered his gun. Was he really the only person you’d ever met that wasn’t able to kill a child. Well no that’d be a lie, you had met a man before, named Negan, who helped you once, he helped you cheat death. Exactly like this man in front of you did.
Rick, who had just gone out on a run for supplies, had trekked into the forest with Daryl not far behind. They were supposed to see if they could find any new places to scavenge, to see if they could find anything that was edible. Instead Rick found himself tracking a human. They hadn’t had anyone coming near Alexandria for a while now and after the Wolves they needed to be careful. However Rick still found himself lowering his gun after you’d turned around. You didn’t even look scared. You just looked tired. Like nothing didn’t really mattered anymore. Like giving up. He got reminded of his son, Carl. Rick couldn’t shoot you, not when you reminded him of Carl. You were just a teenager alone in the world, with probably nothing left. He couldn’t just leave you here not like this, so he offered you some food, even though they were short of it.
You looked at him like he was crazy. You sure as hell weren’t going to take food offered to you by someone who just moments before pointed a gun your way. Hadn’t he ever heard of “stranger danger”. It was something every kid learned, to not trust strangers. That was more than accurate in the world you all now lived in. So instead of taking the food your eyes were glued on him. You didn’t move an inch, afraid he was going to shoot you. He didn’t. He never would.
Rick liked to think that he was a great judge of character. So for starters he knew you were smart. Not taking food from a stranger was smart, you could never know if someone had poisoned it or what they’d done to it. The second thing he noticed was how even if you were tired you still watched your surroundings with great care. Every snap from a stick breaking away from a tree because of the wind, or the growls that came nearer. You were hyper aware of your surroundings. You’d even known he came before he even did, as you were hiding from him. However Rick had been as good of a tracker as you and found you either way. He watched how the grip of your knife tightened as the walkers came closer, now visible to both you and him. Your stares on each other faltered as the walkers came even closer.
You both stared for a moment before coming to a silent agreement. Take out the walkers and continue after. None of you wanted to die that day, so taking away the most danger at the moment was the best option.
The two of you ran over to the six walkers and took them out one by one. Except for the last one, which somehow got advantage of Rick as he fell down, the Walker landing on top of him. You hesitated for a moment before you’d went over with your knife, plunging it straight into the head of the Walker, making its movement stop. Saving Rick.
After that Rick offered you food once more and this time you accepted it, after all the two of you had just killed a group of walkers together, there was nothing wrong with taking the food he offered now. Because it did take a great deal of trust to kill something, trust was needed to succeed, to trust the other to help when needed. Trust the other to take out the once you can’t, trust them to not leave you to do all the work.
As you sat and ate a sandwich (Rick doing the same), you couldn’t help but to savor the taste. It had been far too long since you ate something, especially a sandwich, you’d mostly eaten berries, blueberries for the most part. To eat a sandwich right now was like you came to heaven on a whole new level.
Rick noticed that you ate like you’d been starved for days, which he guessed you probably were. So he decided to start with his three famous questions.
“How many walkers have you killed” he needed to know that you could kill walkers, however he guessed what the answer would be. Being a teenager out in the woods, and alone for that matter, you couldn’t have avoided walkers all this time, no one could.
“S’rry what” you hadn’t completely heard what he said being to engrossed in eating your sandwich. “How many walkers have you killed” Rick repeated the question once more as he stared at you.
Still a bit weary of him you shrugged at first. You might have given him a bit of trust, but you could never be too careful, he was a stranger after all. “I don’t know, how should I know, didn’t know I was s’posed to count, it’s not like it matters really, but if you want to know, I guess a lot would work as an answer, must be more than hundred at least, I mean I’ve been alone for a hike now” you hadn’t meant to day the last part, but it came out anyway and you could do nothing but to regret your words. You knew full well you should have kept quiet.
Rick nodded once at your answer before he continued with his questions. “How many people have you killed” he saw you tense at the question. By that he knew your answer. You’d killed a lot.
“A lot, but they deserved it”
“Why?”
You still didn’t look his way. “The first ones killed my parents, the others either tried to kill me, or do other things to me, saved a couple of humans too from other humans” Rick gave you a look at the last part. “Don’t worry I knew which ones were good people”
“How would you like it if you came back with me, to my place, we have walls, food” food might have been a lie at the moment but he needed you to come with him, he couldn’t leave you here. “Water, nice people, you would be able to leave whenever you want to, we even have other people your age, we can offer you safety and a place to call home” you were quiet for too long in Rick’s eyes so he continued. “What do you say?”
“Do you have comic books?” Rick chuckled at this and nodded. “Fine, but if I don’t get a single Marvel comic when I get there I’m leaving” you stretched out your hand towards him wanting to make a deal of it. The man in front of you took it and while the two of you shook hands you couldn’t help but to ask him a question.
“Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger” Rick chuckled at your words, of course he’d heard of it. But to have it said to him right now, after the two of you just fought off walkers, after you saved his life. After he asked you to join them and after you had a meal together. Even after you agreed to go with him. It was funny to him, and Rick sure as hell could use a bit of fun about now. Definitely after the last several shity days.
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slut4thebroken · 1 year
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Chapter two: Helping Hand
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Arkham Knight/Jason Todd × Bruce's daughter!reader
Summary | You can’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened to him, so he helps you take your mind off it.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, angst, smut, unprotected sex, breeding, oral (fem receiving), kissing, thoughts about torture and sexual abuse, vomit, crying fluff, Jay is a sweetheart and I love him
Words | 4.9 k
Notes | Three things: 1. I don’t have much practice writing emotional smut so I’m sorry if it’s not very good😣 2. I’m pretty sure the Robin suit was bulletproof and that’s why he didn’t die… but we’re just gonna ignore that when his scars are mentioned lol 3. I could not for the life of me find a gif of AK!Jason’s face that was wide and not super tall so enjoy this one instead lmao
Ao3 link | <3
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Chapter one
You stood, frozen, a few feet from the door. After a moment, you snapped out of it, now very determined to escape. 
You maneuvered your legs through your arms until they were in front of you. Unsurprisingly, the knots are good. Jason’s always been good at them, in and out of the bedroom. You pulled on it with your teeth, trying to loosen it. When it didn’t work, you stopped, thinking of another way. 
You’ve seen your father do this only once, but he’s done it a few times before so how hard could it be?… You tried to remember how he positioned his hands, then took a deep breath. After a few seconds of trying to make yourself do it, you scoffed- questioning why you would even try it in the first place. 
“Nope- no. I can’t break my fucking thumb.” Instead, you found a knife in the kitchen and slowly started working it through the rope. It took way too long until it finally grew loose and fell to the floor, but once it did, you searched for a way out or a way to contact your father. After being unsuccessful, you sighed and sat on the couch. 
The door being slammed shut made you bolt up- you must’ve fallen asleep. Jason walked straight into his room, not even looking at you. 
“You have to let me contact him.” You said after he walked back out, now without his helmet. 
“No.” 
“You can’t just keep me here forever.” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Don't tempt me, princess.”
“Jason, I’m serious.” He sighed and finally looked at you. 
“I don’t plan to. But until this is done, you’re staying here.” 
“What is this?” When he didn’t respond, you huffed. Then, “Does he know it’s you?” That made him freeze again. 
“He should, since he’s the world’s greatest detective, but we’ve long since learned he doesn’t live up to that title.” Good. If he knows it’s Jason then he probably won’t be as worried about you. 
“I need to let him know I’m okay so he can-“ You were about to say, so he can focus on stopping you and not on finding me. 
“So he can, what?” His voice made you stiffen- you've never heard him sound so menacing before. 
“N-nothing.” You said quietly, averting your gaze. You already knew he was giving you the “you better tell me right fucking now” look so you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to kill him?” You asked quietly, scared of his answer. 
“Not yet. He needs to suffer more first, then I’ll kill him.” You stared at him in shock and this time he was the one to avert his gaze. 
“Jason, please. This is my dad we’re talking about. I don’t have anyone else.” 
“You have me.” He said quietly, making you frown. 
“You know that’s not what I mean.” He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat and looked at you again. 
“He deserves to die. You moved on from me so easily, I’m sure you can do the same for him.” 
“What the hell are you talking about?” 
“I saw you.” 
“What?” 
“With Dick. I saw you.” He gritted, making you stiffen. 
“Whatever you think you saw, Jason, it wasn’t like that.” Your stomach twisted knowing that someone else other than Dick knew about that night. 
“Really? Because it seemed pretty clear that he was fucking you.” He said bitterly. You swallowed thickly and looked at your lap, remembering what had happened that night. 
It’s been a little over a year since you lost him. Dick was staying the night at the manor before heading back to Blüdhaven in the morning, that’s the only reason you even had this opportunity. He opened the door, hair messy, sweatpants low on his hips, and immediately invited you in when he saw your current state. 
“I- I can’t… Dick, I can’t anymore, it- it hurts so much. I don’t want it to hurt anymore, please.” You whimpered. His hand cupped your cheek, wiping your tears. 
“What do you want me to do?” He asked softly, gaze trailing over your face. 
“Make me forget. Please, I just need to not think about it for a little bit.” You whispered, tentatively placing your hands on his chest. 
“Are you sure?” Instead of answering, you placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was frozen for a beat before reciprocating. Never breaking the kiss, he walked you toward his bed and gently laid you down, then crawled over you. The rest of the night was filled with soft moans, whimpers of his name, and you forcing your thoughts back to him every time they wandered. 
Afterwards, he laid next to you, both of you panting and staring at the ceiling. Without his touch, all of the thoughts came back full force and you recoiled away from him as you jolted up. You couldn’t even formulate a sentence but he seemed to understand when you gathered your pajamas and hurried back to your room. 
You felt sick to your stomach. You used your best friend to forget about your dead boyfriend- his brother. The rest of the night was filled with quiet sobs and silent apologies to Jason. 
“I know you won’t believe me, but it really wasn’t like that, Jay.” 
“I mean, I always figured you’d eventually move on to Dick. I didn’t think I’d have to die for that to happen though.” He scoffed bitterly. 
“That’s not what happened.” You said quietly, feeling nausea start to build in your stomach at the thought of you being the cause of some of his pain. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. 
“What, now you’re gonna cry? You’re a big girl, you made the decision to use my own brother as a fucking rebound, so deal with it.” He spat and you let out a quiet sob as you turned to face the other side of the room. He was right… After doing what you thought was going to make you feel better, you only felt worse. Now instead of thoughts of his death and the torture he might’ve endured, it was also about how you betrayed him. You could have picked anyone else on the planet, but you chose Dick. The person Jason felt has always gotten everything and more. The only person he was ever worried you would leave him for. 
“How long did you wait, huh?” His voice was much closer now and then you felt a hand in your hair, painfully pulling you to face him. 
“Or did this start before I was kidnapped?” He sneered. 
“No! No, it- it only happened once.” You sobbed, wishing you could turn your head away from him. “I thought… I thought he could help me.” 
“Help you?” He scoffed. 
“Yes! Because the love of my life was fucking murdered and for over a year, every single time I fell asleep or let my thoughts wander, my stupid fucking brain would make up things that might’ve happened to you since my dad didn’t let me see the video. So I was hoping that for just one fucking night, I wouldn’t have to think about that.” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheeks. His grip on your hair grew slack until his hand fell to his side. 
“And did he?” He asked quietly. 
“No.” A heavy silence filled the room and you looked down at your lap again. “I’m sorry, Jason.” You whispered. He sighed and started walking away. “You’re still mad at me?” The venom in your voice poorly masked your sadness. 
“No I’m not fucking mad at you! How can I be after that shit?” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. 
“It’s okay if you are.” You said softly, despite the fact that your chest ached at the thought. “Just don’t be mad at Dick, it wasn’t his fault.” He let out another heavy sigh and walked back over, sitting on the right side of the couch, as far away from you as possible. You stared at the scar on his face, feeling bile rise in your throat as you imagined him screaming and crying. Or maybe by then he had been so tired- so broken, that he couldn’t even scream. Clenching your jaw as your eyes started to burn again, you wished that Joker was still alive so you could kill him yourself.  
“Hey,”
“Huh?” You asked, moving your gaze to his eyes. Clearing your throat and willing the tears to disappear, you forced yourself to pay attention- to not let your thoughts wander again. 
“I asked if you’re okay.” 
“Oh. Yeah- sorry.” You lied, gaze straying back to the scar. How many other scars does he have now? Your eyes moved down to his body, imagining all of the places he could be permanently marred. 
“I’d make a joke about you undressing me with your eyes but you actually look like you’re about to start crying.” He chuckled dryly, making you look up at him again. 
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to look at the ground. 
A lot could’ve happened in over a year. So some of your made up scenarios are probably true. Was it only Joker or were there others? Did they only torture him physically and emotionally? Or did they torture him... sexually too? 
You could barely even finish the thought before bile was quickly rising up your throat, making you run to the bathroom. This wasn’t the first time you’ve gotten so nauseous thinking about what happened to him that you actually threw up. You slammed the door shut, not wanting him to see you like this, and once you finished throwing up you just sat on the floor and cried. You felt so fucking weak. And he probably needed you to be the strong one right now so you can help him with what he’s going through. 
A hand on your knee made you jump. Jason was sitting next to you, offering you a glass of water that you gratefully took to swish in your mouth and spit back out into the toilet before closing the lid and flushing it. 
“I’m sorry.” You croaked, not able to look at him. 
“If I knew it was going to be this hard on you I would’ve stayed away. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as you tried to calm down. 
“What happened to you?” You whispered and he stiffened. 
“Baby, I don’t really think it’s the best idea for me to tell you. Just try not to think about it, okay?” 
“I can’t.” You whimpered. 
“How about I help you?” 
“How?” He didn’t respond. Instead, he helped you stand, got out an extra toothbrush and put toothpaste on it, then handed it to you. You took it and tiredly brushed your teeth, watching through the mirror as he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your head as he waited. You leaned back into his body and let your eyes fall closed, focusing on his chest moving with each breath and his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your side. 
When you finished, he picked you up bridal style, making you release a startled giggle, and carried you into his bedroom. He gently set you on the bed, then started removing his tactile gear. You eyed him curiously until he was in just an undershirt and underwear. When he laid down next to you on his side, you mirrored the position. 
“However you want me to help, I will. Whatever you want. We can just lay here and talk to get your mind off it or I can help you another way.” He said softly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, then cup your cheek. 
“I need you, Jay.” You whispered, eyes fluttering down to his lips. 
“Are you sure?” He rasped. 
“Please.” That was all it took for him to slowly move forward and press his lips to yours. The kiss was tentative, experimental, but quickly deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck to hold you against him as you moved yours to fist his shirt, pulling him closer. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you on top of him, his freehand rubbing up and down your back in soothing motions. 
“I missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your lips, making you whine. When his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, you pulled back and ripped it over your head, then continued the kiss. Warm hands snaked up your back until he met your bra, effortlessly unclasping it and sliding it off your arms to the growing pile on the floor. You moved your hand to his cheek, gasping when you felt the raised skin. 
“I- I’m sorry. I forgot and it startled me.” You said nervously, worried you had upset him. 
“Don’t be sorry, princess.” You could tell he was being genuine. Leaning down slowly, you pressed a tentative kiss to the marred skin, watching his cheeks turn pink. 
“C’mere.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss. “I love you.” 
“I love you too. So much, Jay.” His smile was infectious and soon enough you were both sporting lovesick grins. He swiftly rolled both of you over, never breaking the kiss, and settled between your legs. Your hands made their way to his hair as he started trailing kisses down your neck, sometimes stopping to leave a mark. He quickly reached your chest and took your nipple into his mouth, groaning against you as his fingers stimulated the other one. When he was satisfied, he moved to the next one, giving it the same treatment. 
You did your best to just focus on the feel of him and not let your thoughts wander. But even though he was right here in your arms, you still had trouble believing this was real. 
“Am- am I…” He pulled up to look at you and you brought your hands down to his cheeks. “I’m so scared this is just another dream.” You whispered, gaze rapidly moving over his face, trying to re-memorize it just in case.  
“I’m real, baby. It’s really me.” He said softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. Slowly leaning down, you felt his breath fan your lips for only a second before he was kissing you. Your grip tightened on his face, scared that if you let go, he’d disappear. After a moment, you pulled back, gasping and panting, keeping him close to you. Opening your eyes to find him already looking at you, you nodded, giving him permission to keep going. 
Jason continued his path down your chest and stomach until he reached your pants. He slowly dragged them down your legs, teasing you, and you tugged on his hair, expressing your impatience. He just chuckled and finished pulling them off, then placed his hands on your hips, tracing the fabric of your underwear with his thumbs. 
“I’ve always loved these. My second favorite pair.” He said quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your hips bucked subconsciously and he looked at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 
“Have you forgotten your manners?” He said with a smirk, making you blush. 
“…Please.” You muttered, embarrassed. When he didn’t move, you let out a needy whine. “Jay, please.” You pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes. 
“How can I say no to that face?” He cooed, pulling your underwear off, then parting your legs and settling between them. When he licked his lips and let out a low groan, even your ears grew warm with a blush. 
“So fuckin pretty.” He said under his breath, moving onto his stomach. “Perfect.” He placed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh and you lightly tugged on his hair again. 
“Jay, stop teasing.” You frowned. 
“I’ve waited years for this. I’m taking my fucking time.” He growled. Despite his words, he slid his arms under your legs to pull you into him and immediately dove in, licking a slow stripe up your folds. 
“O- oh… Jay,” You said breathlessly, hips flinching when he let out a loud moan. Like a man starved, once he got a taste, he grew even more eager. He lapped up your arousal as he fucked his tongue inside of you, but when he moved up and sucked your clit into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan, pulling him against you by his hair. 
“Fuck! Oh my god… Jason,” You whimpered, unable to control the way your hips were rutting against his face. It felt as good as you remembered, maybe even better, and when a finger easily slid inside your drooling hole, all of your thoughts just completely vanished. 
“How’s that feel, princess?” He grumbled against your clit, making your hips buck toward the low vibrations. 
“Good- so fucking good, Jay.” You whined breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.” He inserted another finger, making your grip tighten in his hair as you threw your head back with a loud moan. The coil in your belly was so fucking tight and you prayed that because this was the first time in a while, he wouldn’t want to draw it out. 
“Close-“ You gasped out, tilting your head back up to look at him. His eyes were closed and brows furrowed as he repeatedly sucked your clit into his mouth, never stopping the motions of his fingers. 
“Come for me, baby. Please.” He all but moaned as his eyes flickered up to you. You held him tight against you as your hips maintained a steady rocking against his face. “C’mon I know you can. Let me taste you- I need it, sweetheart. Please.” How could you say no to that? He only had to suck your clit into his mouth once more before you were falling over the edge, feeling your entire body tremble beneath him. You sobbed out a moan, feeling so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings and him. But you never wanted to stop. You wanted to live in this moment with him forever, just feeling close to him and nothing else. 
As you came down from your orgasm and grew sensitive, you knew he wouldn’t stop, so you pulled on his hair, trying to remove his mouth from your overstimulated clit. 
“Jay- Jay, baby, please.” You gasped out, hips twitching in a useless attempt to escape the overstimulation. He reluctantly pulled back and you watched with half lidded eyes as he removed his fingers and sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them. You whimpered at the erotic sight. 
“I hope you know that now that I have a taste for it again, I’m gonna have my mouth on that cunt at least once a day.” He smirked, making your cheeks flush. 
“You’re so crude.” 
“No,” He scoffed, “you’re just easily flustered. Now. Speaking of getting a taste for things again, if I don’t get my cock in you right now, I’m gonna explode.” He said as he moved up your body until he was leaning over you. You smiled, trailing your hands down his back and grabbing the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head, but it quickly faded as you got a glimpse of his torso. Your eyes started burning as you examined all of the scars, ranging from knife wounds to a bullet hole. 
Two fingers grabbed your chin and tilted your head up as he lowered his body until his chest was pressed to yours so you couldn’t see. But the damage was already done. 
“Hey,” He said softly, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “Just focus on me and the moment. That’s all that matters, okay? Just us, nothing else.”
“I know… I’m sorry. I feel so stupid getting this upset about it when I’m not even the one who experienced it.” You let out a dry laugh, looking to the side. You really did feel stupid because of this and you hated it. It’s not like you. 
“That’s not stupid. If someone did even a quarter of the stuff to you that he did to me, I would kill them in a heartbeat- Actually not a heartbeat. I’d cut off all their limbs and then just let them bleed out to really make them suffer.” You looked at him again and couldn’t help the way the corners of your lips turned up. “The point is, I would feel the same way. I’d probably also cry if I thought about it too much. So no, it’s not stupid.” 
“I just- I feel so weak. And you probably need me to be strong right now after what you went through.” 
“I’ve made my peace with it… Mostly. And I didn’t come back because I needed you to be strong for me, I came back because without you, I don’t have anything. Being away from you was probably the worst part- and I know it was selfish of me to force myself back into your life and open old wounds but when have you ever known me to be selfless?” He chuckled lightly and you scoffed at his words. 
“You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met.” 
“That’s debatable. Point is, I just need you. Nothing else.” You gave him a small smile and snaked your hand around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. When you almost immediately pulled away, he tried to chase your lips, making you chuckle breathlessly. 
“I love you, Jason Todd. More than anything.” The smile he gave you made your stomach flutter and your chest ache- you missed that smile so damn much. “Enough cheesy stuff. If you don’t put your cock in me right now I’m going to explode.” He barked out a laugh which just made your stomach flutter and chest ache even more. 
“Yes, ma’am.” He said sarcastically, quickly throwing off his underwear and climbing back over you. The blunt head of his cock brushed your opening and you took in a sharp breath, waiting eagerly. He dragged the tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal and his spit, and you let out a low whine as you squirmed. 
“Please?” You pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips. He didn’t respond. Instead, he applied more pressure until the head of his cock breached your hole, making your breath hitch. His brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan and he let his head hang down. 
“Jesus- fuck. Squeezing me so fuckin tight, baby, I’m not gonna last.” He said through a moan. To be fair, you didn't expect him to. You don’t know what he’s been doing since he escaped, but you figured it wasn’t having sex. 
“I don’t care. Please just fuck me, Jay, I need it.” You whined, making him let out what sounded like a whimper. 
“Keep talking like that and I’m gonna bust right fuckin now.” He gritted, opening his eyes to look at you. You did your best to hide your smirk as you purposefully clenched around his length, making his hips stutter forward, pushing in a little more.  When he saw your poorly concealed smirk, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re a fuckin tease, you know that?” 
“Yeah well I like seeing you blush like that.” You looked up at him through your lashes with a teasing glint in your eyes and he placed a hand on your neck. 
“You wanna keep teasing me and see what happens? Or do you want me to fuck you.” He asked, squeezing the sides of your neck lightly. When you huffed and looked away from him, you could practically feel his smirk. “That’s what I thought.” 
He moved his hips again, not stopping until he was completely buried inside you. You let out a ragged breath as you struggled to adjust to his size- honestly it felt like he was all the way up your stomach and you knew that he was. You knew that if you looked down, you’d be able to see where his cock was bulging your stomach. And you really fucking missed that feeling. 
“Now you’re speechless, huh?” He smirked. You glared at him, but it quickly softened as your face twisted in pleasure when he slowly started moving out. He dragged his cock back until only the tip was inside, then slowly forced it back in. You whined as he kept up the slow pace, but deep down you were a little grateful that he knew and respected the fact that you’d need some time to adjust, especially after all this time without it. 
He removed his hand, then suddenly dropped his head into your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin before moving up to your neck to suck the skin in his mouth, leaving even more marks. You couldn’t hold down the embarrassing sounds crawling up your throat, but they only spurred him on. His pace increased slightly and the first unexpected thrust knocked the breath out of you. 
“Missed you so fucking much.” He muttered against your skin. “Thought about you every day- about coming home to you… You kept me alive.” He whispered the last part hesitantly and you let out a choked sob from his words. You wished you could say the same, but you were under different circumstances. You lost the love of your life and if you’re being completely honest, there were parts of it where you truly wanted to die just to have a break from your emotions. 
“I love you.” Was all you could think of to say. He pulled back to look at you, thrusts never slowing. 
“I love you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.” You pulled him down into another kiss, eagerly chasing his lips as the pace of his thrusts increased even more. He reached a hand down to your clit, making you release a muffled moan into his mouth before pulling back. 
“God- I’m not gonna last long either.” You said through a breath, feeling the knot in your stomach grow tighter. 
“I need you to come with me. Can you do that, princess?” He rasped, cupping your cheek again and moving his gaze back and forth between your eyes. You nodded with a whimper and he gave you a proud smile. “Good girl. Just gotta hold it a little longer, okay?” You let out a loud moan from his praise as your walls fluttered around his cock, making him hiss. But despite that, you did your best to hold it, wanting to come with him. 
It didn’t take him long before his thrusts were becoming erratic and frenzied, rutting into you as he desperately chased his orgasm. 
“Don’t pull out.” You whispered. You figured he wouldn’t since he said “come together,” but you wanted to be sure. 
“Fuck,” He choked out, hips snapping into you as he neared his orgasm. “I won’t, princess. Gonna fill you up nice and good- give you what you want. But you need to ask for it nicely.” His words were strained as he tried to stave off his incoming release. You wanted to whine and hide your face instead of saying it, but you were rapidly approaching the edge and you didn’t want to draw it out any longer. 
“Jay, please. Need you to fill me up- I need it so bad.” Your whine turned into a sob as you clenched down on him again. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl. You ready?” You nodded eagerly, trying to hold it until he actually gave you the word. Only a few thrusts later, he choked out, “Come with me, baby. Come now.” That was all you needed to let the knot of arousal in your stomach snap. His lips pressed to yours, muffling your cries and moans as his hips stuttered to a stop, now only bucking forward sporadically, trying to bury his length impossibly deeper inside of you. Using your legs and arms, you pulled his body completely against yours as you savored the feeling of his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. 
When he pulled away, you both were panting, trying to catch your breath. He rolled you over again, never removing his cock, and had you lay on top of him completely, letting you rest your head on his chest. 
“I love you.” He murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 
“I love you.” You responded, in the same tone, then placed a kiss on his chest. You could see some of his scars with the way you were laying, so you let your eyes fall shut, but even then, you didn’t think of it. For the first time in years, you just felt truly content. So content that your brain was satisfied not knowing what happened. You just prayed it stayed like that and wasn’t only because of postcoital bliss. 
When he brought a hand up to run through your hair, you snuggled into his chest even more and kissed him again, before letting yourself relax completely. 
Chapter three
fic timeline
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Tag list
@igotanidea @clairacassidy @phoenixgurl030 @halleest @emmerskiri @randomgurl2326
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forever-rogue · 1 year
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Hey there~~~
Based on the last ep from TLOU, may I ask a request where reader was waiting for Joel in parking lot and she was very worried about the gunshots upstairs but when she sees him with Ellie in his arms, she knows immediately what he has done. Once they get to Jackson, Ellie and reader are too quiet and distance of him: Ellie suspicious of him and Reader not believing what just happened. And in the end, of course, they understand why he made all of this and forgive him. I think my request isn't easy, sorry😅 but I think that could be angsty but with a happy ending? don't know.
Ah, I almost forgot, Joel and reader are in established relationship. Thank uuu💟
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AN | Sometimes decisions aren’t easy, or black and white.
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, TLOU typical violence
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel and Ellie had been gone for too long. You knew you should have gone with them but Joel had insisted they'd be fine and thought it would be best to keep you out of it. Joel would have done anything to keep Ellie safe so you weren't too worried in that aspect. It was the mystery of not knowing what was going on that was making you anxious. You were tempted to go in there and see what was going on, but kept trying to convince yourself that nothing was happening.
They’d be back and in your arms before you knew it. You were positive. 
But then you heard the gunshots and suddenly you weren’t willing to wait anymore. Not with that. You grabbed your gun and turned off the safety, running towards the source of the noise. Was it a bad idea? Probably. But you didn’t mess around when it came to your family. And anyone that got in the way would be sorry they did so. 
“Joel!” you softened your footsteps as you listened and tried to follow the sound of the source. You still heard the yelling but it was starting to slow, causing your worry to spike, “Ellie!”
As soon as you entered the old hospital, you froze in panic at the sight spread out in front of you. Bodies littered the floor, all around you….the hairs on your arms stood up as you looked among them for any familiar faces. It looked like a tornado of destruction had gone through the place, leaving so much destruction and death in its wake. 
“Joel?” you followed the trail of bodies; you hated the fact that you were able to do to do so. You paused an operating room with the lights still on…and two nurses crying inconsolably, “what - what happened?”
“The man,” one of them cried, “he killed everyone - including the doctor! And he stole the girl!”
“Where did he go?” if you thought your heart was beating rapidly before, it was about to burst out of your chest now. They remained silent, clearly in shock and processing, “where!”
“Down the hall - downstairs,” you didn’t say anything else before you were out of the room and running towards the stairwell. At one point you almost slipped from the trail of blood; it made your stomach churn. 
“Joel!” maybe you were being too loud now but you didn’t care. You ran all the way down the stairs and burst through the door into the parking garage, “Joel.”
You found him standing there with Ellie in his arms, his expression empty as he stared at you. Near his feet was Marlene….dead and bleeding on the ground. Your eyes grew with fear and you had to choke down your sob. You’d known Marlene since you were practically a kid and now she was gone. 
Looking between her, Joel, and the unconscious Ellie, it didn’t take long to put it all together. 
“Get in the car,” and he turned away without another word and laid Ellie down in the backseat. You had a million questions swirling around in your mind and you were nauseous, but you slipped into the passenger seat without another word. 
Joel got into the driver’s seat and turned on the car, the tension between the two of you so thick that you could have easily cut it even with the dullest of knives. 
He didn’t have to tell you where he was going, you already knew. Joel wasn’t a hard man to read anymore, not these days and not for you. 
He didn’t even look at you, barely acknowledged your presence, and all you could do was stare out the window as you tried not to cry. 
When Ellie woke up, confused and scared, your heart broke further. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, instead only reaching back to squeeze her hand as a sign of reassurance. 
You closed your eyes as you listened to Joel explain his version of what happened. None of this was sitting right in your head or your heart. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“We’re going to have to hike the rest of the way,” Joel announced after the car broke down and Ellie had the opportunity to change her clothes, “it’ll be a few hours, but we’ll make it. We’ve survived worse.”
The two of you muttered your acceptances, and started to follow Joel. 
For whatever reason, he had done a complete turnaround and was talking to Ellie animatedly and happily. It was a conflicting thing; you loved seeing him so alive and chatty but you knew that you were being left in the dark. 
You hung back and decided to remain quiet - whatever you had to say could wait. Honestly, you really didn’t snap back into attention until Ellie started questioning Joel. Looking between the two of them you could see the tension on their faces, Ellie close to tears despite her best efforts. 
“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true,” the look on her face was hard as she tried to get a read on him. 
“I swear.”
“Okay,” she gave him a nod but you could tell that she still wasn’t quite convinced, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to trust Joel. He was the man that had kept her safe, protected, the one who hadn’t left her. It would kill her to know if he was lying to her, “okay.”
You remained silent, but when Joel looked over at you, you only offered him a single nod in response. 
“Look,” Joel pointed to the distance where the sprawling Jackson had come into view, “almost home.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You might have been back in the house that had become home, back in the bed that was yours, but you weren’t able to find sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for several hours for about the fifth night in a row. Things had been tense at home and you still had so much on your mind.
Instead of trying to find sleep and potentially keeping Joel up, you rolled out of bed and went downstairs to make some tea. It was raining slightly, a bit of spring rain to welcome summer flowers, but you still went outside and sat on the porch. 
It was still dark out, but in the far distance you could see the beginnings of day slowly creeping up. You sighed and rubbed a tired hand over your face; you wondered if things would ever feel normal again. You had been so absorbed in your own thoughts that you didn’t even hear the door open or the creak of the porch.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” you startled slightly at the sound of his voice as you looked to him leaning against the banister. He sounded gentle, like he normally did with you, and it made your heart twinge slightly, “it’s late and cold.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you offered him a tightlipped smile, “didn’t want to wake you up.”
“I was awake,” he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh,” you wondered if it was the same thing keeping him up. 
“Ask me,” he sat on the bench next to you, leaving a small gap between your bodies but brushing his fingers along yours, “I know what you’re going to ask me so please, just ask me.”
“Why did you lie to Ellie?” your voice cracked and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, “and to me?”
“You think I’m lying’?”
“I know you’re lying,” you sat back and let out a long sigh, “I know you well enough to know that. And so does she - but she’s choosing to believe your lie because she loves you, Joel. Because she needs you in her life, because you’re like her father. It would break her fucking heart to admit to herself that you are lying to her.”
Joel sighed heavily, hanging his head before hiding his face behind his hands, “you don’t think I know? Of course I know that.”
“Why then?” you could hear the tears in his voice, “why? Tell me - tell me what happened.”
After a few long moments he looked at you and you could see the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. You didn’t even hesitate before reaching over and putting your hand on his cheek and brushing away his tears. 
“They were…Ellie,” you nodded, silently and softly encouraging him to go on, “you know where cordyceps lives in the human body.”
“In the brain,” you answered, worry creeping in and you were almost positive you knew where this was going. 
“In the brain,” he repeated, “in order to study it and potentially figure out how to make a vaccine, they need…to take it out and that would…”
He didn’t have to finish in order for you to know what he was struggling to say. 
“Joel,” you reached for his hand and laced your fingers together, giving him a gentle squeeze. 
“They don’t even know if this could have led to a cure, they don’t know if they could have made a vaccine or what they would have found,” he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, “there’s so many unknowns, so many possibilities. But I think…the chance that it could have worked, that could have meant something, were so slim. More than likely it would have been pointless.”
“Joel…”
“I couldn’t do it,” he looked at you, eyes glossy as tears rolled down face, “I couldn’t go through that again. I couldn’t…I couldn’t lose her, not Ellie, not another daughter.”
Your heart broke as you watched him cry and you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around him, and hug onto him as tightly as possible. You held him in silence for a few minutes as he buried his face into your shoulder, “it’s okay, let it out, my love.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I am sorry, to have taken the choice away from her.”
“She chose you and you chose her,” you squeezed your eyes shut as you rubbed his back, “that’s what happens when you love someone.”
“I’m sorry for how it all went down,” he pulled back and took your face in his hands, cradling it gently before wiping your own tears away, “but if I had a chance to go back, I’d do it again. I’d pick her every time. Every single time.”
“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, “I know you would. I would too, for you and her. That’s not even a question.”
“And for you,” you knew it wasn’t even a question, but hearing it out loud still made your heart constrict, “I just…I know that I did the right thing, but I can’t…it’s all I can think about.”
“I think you know why,” you swallowed thickly, “Ellie deserves to know the whole truth. Until you give that to her, your heart will never be totally at peace.”
“I don’t know how I can look her in the eyes and tell her that I lied,” his mouth pulled into a thin line, “I know…she’s not going to be happy.”
“But she’ll understand,” you promised softly, “maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually she will. She knows you love her.”
“I hope so,” he exhaled shakily, “even if I come out the bad guy, she needs to know.”
“You’re not the bad guy,” you meant it, down to your core, “this isn’t exactly a normal situation to be in, and this world isn’t…normal. But we do what we can, and sometimes those decisions are not easy. There’s no black and white…sometimes life is just a big gray area.”
“What would you have done?” he’d pulled you into his lap and had his arms around, searching your eyes for the love and acceptance he so desperately craved, “please.”
“I would have done whatever it took to keep my family,” you whispered, “to keep you and keep Ellie. There’s no doubt about that. But I know it will never be easy, for anyone.”
You leaned in and pressed your forehead to his, leaning into his touch, “I love you.”
“I know,” you whispered, “I love you too.”
“I’ll tell her,” he promised, “I will.”
“I know.”
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fahbee · 9 months
Text
Theory: Why did Aziraphale agree to the Arrangement?
There's two moments in Aziraphale's and Crowley's history together that we haven't seen yet, that I think have the potential to change the way we see them and their relationship to each other.
They are: The Fall and the Arrangement.
This post is about the latter.
[Slightly edited because I completely forgot the Good Omens book states that the Arrangement began "somewhere around 1020".]
Here's what we know about the Arrangement:
It started around 1020.
By the time of 1601 it had been in place long enough for them to have used it "dozens of times". I take this to mean at least 30 times, but probably closer to at least 50 times. I assume that the upper limit is likely under 200, else I would have expected Crowley to say "hundreds of times" rather than dozens.
The parameters of the Arrangement are that they "stay out of each other's way" and "lend a hand, when needed." It involves both of them performing blessings and temptings.
Crowley proposed the Arrangement under the justification of convenience. No sense for both of them to be uncomfortable in damp places only to cancel each other out, etc.
Aziraphale rejected the Arrangement because he didn't want to lie to Heaven. This was centuries after Aziraphale already lied to Heaven in order to save Job's children, so we know the problem isn't with the act of lying itself.
From this, we can deduce that Aziraphale is willing to lie to Heaven/other angels when he considers the matter important and/or righteous enough, and that sparing himself inconvenient travel and accommodation, etc does not rise to that standard.
By 1601, we know that Aziraphale no longer worries about lying to Heaven ("dozens of times now") but that Aziraphale does worry about the risk to Crowley if Hell were to find out what they're doing. "They would destroy you." Yet this protest seems more like a routine warning than a truly serious objection, and Crowley rolls over it easily. "Nobody ever has to know."
While it's possible that Aziraphale could have changed his mind about the Arrangement solely due to decades (centuries?) of Crowley asking him to reconsider every time they encountered each other while on the job, that would be a boring waste of an opportunity for character and relationship growth. IOW, I don't see Neil choosing to write that Aziraphale finally decided to go along with the Arrangement just because he got tired of Crowley asking.
No, the better, far more satisfying choice is for something to have happened that changed Aziraphale's mind. And it couldn't have been something to do with the actual work of the blessing and tempting. In 1601, the job involves a few minor blessings and tempting a clan leader to steal some livestock - nothing at all like the life-and-death, killing-children-to-win-a-bet circumstances which led Aziraphale to lie to Heaven for the first time.
There has to be some other reason then for why Aziraphale grows comfortable enough with lying to Heaven that it doesn't even warrant a mention as a token protest in 1601. But what does merit a mention? "If Hell finds out... they'll destroy you." Crowley's safety.
So what could possibly be so important, so righteous, as to justify not only lying to Heaven on the regular, but also risking Crowley's very existence? What could have possibly happened to make the Arrangement, with all its attendant deceit, risk, and danger, something that Aziraphale willingly participates in, over and over and over again, for centuries?
My theory? He does it for Crowley's happiness.
We know that as far back as 3000 BC at the flood/Noah's ark, Crowley had no stomach for the death of children. 500 years later he defines himself as a demon who goes along with Hell as far as he can and killing Job's kids (both human and goat lol) is going too far. He not only refuses to kill them, he performs miracles to save them and return them safely to their parents. And before Aziraphale figured out the trick with the goats, Crowley was clearly determined to keep his actions secret from both Heaven and Hell.
I think Aziraphale finally agreed to the Arrangement in order to give Crowley an excuse to do good. I think something happened in 1020 to make Aziraphale realize that Crowley sometimes needed to do good, but couldn't allow himself to do good unless he had an excuse for it.
The Arrangement is just another dance between them, another ritual they perform for seemingly plausible reasons but which actually has a much deeper meaning behind it. On the surface, the Arrangement allows them to cut down on redundant and/or unpleasant tasks. It's true purpose though, in my opinion, is to give Crowley the excuse he needs - even if it's just to himself - to balance out his demonic work with good deeds. Either Aziraphale does his tempting for him and he's spared from having to do evil deeds at all, or he does his own tempting but gets to cancel it out by doing blessings on Aziraphale's behalf.
Does Crowley realize it, though? I don't know. Prior to s2 I would have said of course he does. But we know now that Crowley has a huge blind spot when it comes to Aziraphale. He didn't even realize how clearly, obviously in love with Aziraphale he was until Nina bashed him over the head with it. Aziraphale's motivations and feelings, especially as regards Crowley himself, seem to be a complete mystery to Crowley. It would not surprise me to learn that Aziraphale made up some flimsy excuse for why he changed his mind about the Arrangement, and Crowley simply accepted it and never questioned it further.
In conclusion, I think Aziraphale entered into the Arrangement for Crowley's benefit whether Crowley realizes it or not.
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vioartemis · 1 year
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I’ll die with you (part 3)
(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)
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Summary: Your rest was short, another attack soon occurs, deadlier than the first one. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 Warnings: blood, death of character, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)
“I swear I’m gonna need to bleach my eyes” you heard Sam say when you went downstairs with Tara, half an hour later
“Come on, we were fully clothed, you didn’t see anything” Tara rolled her eyes and sit at the table
“That’s not the point! Since when are you even doing that? You’re too young to-”
"I mean they're adults so..." Gale started
"Would you mind stop talking about our sex life?" you groaned, cheeks still red
"What do you want us to talk about?"
"I don't know, the weather, whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza..."
"Well that's an easy question" Sam declared, taking a slice of pizza and giving one to everyone
"I suppose we all agree they don't" you girlfriend said
"We do, indeed" Gale confirmed while you nodded
"Uh, no we don't"
A debate started, Sam against the three of you. It almost looked like a normal family dinner, a normal night. You nearly forgot you were the next target of a psycho killer. Until you all jumped when your phone rang.
Probably: Damian Walker.
You never realized you never gave him your phone number. Mindy or Chad probably did.
"It's okay, it's Damian"
"Y/n-" Tara tried to interrupt
But you already took your phone and walked away from the table, picking up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, how are you feeling tonight?"
"Tired and embarrassed, but other than that, pretty good"
"What...?"
"It's a long story" you sighed "Why do you call?"
"Oh, I wanted to know if you were having fun..." the slight sound of an electronic device could be heard "while I was gutting your friends like fishes."
All color vanished from your face.
"W-what...?"
Tara stood up hearing your shaking voice, worried. Whoever called you, they hang up without answering.
"Hello?! Please don't hurt them!" you cried
"Baby wha-"
"He's gonna kill Mindy and Chad we have to go!"
“No no no. We go, you stay here”
“And get attacked again? No thank you” you protested, dialing 911
When you arrived at Mindy and Chad’s not even five minutes later, the door was slightly opened. You could hear fight noises coming from inside. There was still a chance to save them.
You opened the door and rushed inside, baseball bat in hand. The first thing you saw was Ghostface, standing over the twins.
He slowly turned his head to look at you and did his signature blade-cleaning, before running away.
You were tempted to chase after him, but your friends mattered more. When you came closer to them, your heart dropped. There was blood everywhere.
Chad’s shirt was torn apart due to multiple stab. Mindy had her back against a wall, blood coming from her stomach.
Your own wounds burned at the sight, tears coming to your eyes. You couldn’t move, paralyzed.
“Shit…” you heard Sam say next to Chad
You had no idea how much time passed, but at one point Mindy coughed, causing your head to jolt in her direction. She was regaining consciousness!
Be fire you could realize it you were kneeling next to her, applying pressure on her wound.
“You’re gonna be okay, we called an ambulance, they should-”
Suddenly Damian brushed into the room.
“Oh my god-”
“Where the fuck were you?”
“I- I went to the bathroom a-and someone knocked me out… I- I just woke up”
You looked him up and down. Blood was running down his face from his forehead. But he could have done it himself.
“Stay the fuck back” Mindy said when he tried to come closer
"N-no I- I'm not... It's not me I swear... Y/n y-you believe me right...?"
You really wanted to. But last time he didn't have an alibi, and now...
"I'm sorry..."
You could see how broken he was hearing your words. Maybe he wasn't the killer after all. Or he was a good actor, which wasn't to exclude.
You were waiting in the waiting room, Tara sitting on your lap and caressing your hair gently in an attempt to reassure you. You were starting to believe her when the doctors came.
You all got up immediately, heart beating faster than ever.
"Mrs Meeks should be okay, but she needs rest"
"And Chad?" Sam asked
"I'm... sorry. We did our best but... we couldn't save him..."
You had to sit back down, in shock. You never thought that would happen again. You thought losing friends was over. You should've known it would end up this way, with Ghostface's return.
Maybe you were just in denial. Believing if you convinced yourself it wouldn't happen everything would be fine. But nothing was fine.
The 2022 massacre left a indelible mark on you. The current events only reopened the scar you thought had healed.
Maybe if you had stick all together he would still be alive. If you had been all together Ghostface wouldn't have tried anything. If you had left this stupid town when you could...
Maybe it was all your fault after all.
You were the first target, but you survived. No first targets survived before Tara. And you weren't even sure they wanted her dead at that moment.
Maybe the killer wanted to make you suffer before killing you. Maybe it was all part of their plan to let you live. Maybe they were about to destroy everything you had. Maybe-
You felt hands on your face and looked down to see Tara, concern written on her face. She brushed your cheeks with her thumbs softly. It was only then that you realized that you were crying.
That was the moment Lexi chose to arrive, breathing heavily and sweating. She must have run here.
"I- I'm sorry I had piano lesson- I just- I just saw your texts-" she took a deep breath "Mindy- is she going to be okay? And- and Chad?"
You didn't have the strength to tell her. Not now, it was still to fresh. Instead you broke down in your girlfriend's arms. You could swear she was crying too.
A loud noise made you tilt your head up. Lexi had pinned Damian to the wall, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.
"What did you do to them? You were here to why didn't you help?"
"I- I got knocked out...! I already told them...!" he made a circle toward you with his arm "L- Lexi I swear I didn't- I can't breath can you-"
"I don't fucking believe you. That's easy pretending you passed out."
Her grip only grew tighter. Damian's face started to become red. He was struggling against the blonde.
Sam had to force them appart, holding a furious Lexi away from the poor boy trying to catch his breath.
After everyone had calmed down, the police arrived and questioned the group. They didn't seem to believe Damian's alibi either.
"Maybe we should take him into custody for a little while? Just to make sure he's not, you know, the killer?" a deputy asked the sheriff
"We can't do that without evidences, that would be abusing of our power as representants of the law-"
"Do it" all head turned to the boy "T- take me into custody, you'll see it's not me. If it's the only way I can prove my innocence... I'll do it"
"You sure about that son?"
"Y-yeah"
"Okay then... come with me" the deputy said after the sheriff nodded
"The hospital is secure, we have police officers at each floor, you should be safe here. Don't go out, don't stay alone until morning. Understood?"
You weren't totally sure you could believe him. You remembered well how it ended last time. Ghostface always managed to pass past the security, why would that change now?
When the police left, you were allowed to see Mindy. She was devastated. Fortunately, her girlfriend was here for her.
Yours was holding your hand tight, fingers intertwined with yours. She knew it could've been you as much as you knew it could've been her. At the moment, you were so glad she was safe.
But it was just temporary. It always was.
Ghostface knew when to hit you. Not too soon after the previous attack, not too long after. Just as you started to think it would get better -or at least not worse. Just when hope started coming back.
The moment it hurt the most.
"Can you guys stay here for the rest of the night...?"
"Of course, we're not leaving you alone after that..."
Everyone started to move things around to get confortable for the night. You and Tara sat on the floor, on a blanket, in a corner.
You could hear soft snores, your little group falling asleep one after another. You didn't know how they could sleep in that situation. You couldn't.
Every time you closed your eyes, Ghostface appeared before you, ready to kill all your friends one by one.
You watched as Tara was sleeping on your shoulder. She seemed peaceful. You played with her hair, trying you imagine you were in your room, and it was a normal night.
you didn't realize she was awake, caught into your daydream, until she spoke.
"Are you okay...?" she whispered
You jumped a little.
"I... don't know... you?"
"Same... I just- I just hoped it wouldn't happen again... It's stupid but- I thought it would be different..."
"It's not stupid... I would rather say unrealistic... but- that's horrible but... I'm glad it wasn't you... I don't know what I would do if- if you-"
The words got stuck in your throat, tears blurring your vision again. The simple thought of losing her was unbearable.
"Hey..." she whipped your tears off of your face gently "It's not going to happen okay? I'm not dying, not now. I swear"
She kissed you tenderly, trying to whip your worries away, hand still holding yours. You kissed her back, like it was the last time.
Because it might be. We never know.
"Try to rest a little okay...?"
You nodded, resting your head on hers once she got back in her previous position against you.
You tried not to think about what just happened, or how it could get worse. You tried to empty your mind, only leaving one thought there: Tara.
But it was always when you thought the situation wouldn't get worse that it does.
You should have known the worst was yet to come.
And it would come fast.
[Previous part] || [Next part]
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avenging-fandoms · 1 year
Note
Bestie. Hear me out. A cozy day in bed w Pedro while it storms. Pedro being the softest person in the world. That’s it that’s all I’ve got
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A rainy day where you’re already not in the brightest mood can make you feel a lot like Eeyore.
And you did. You had a blanket around your shoulders with hands around a mug, staring out the sliding doors as the rain hit the glass outside table.
Pedro’s slippers dragged on the wood and it stops once he’s at the end of the hallway, probably when he saw you. “What are you doing?” You took a sip from your mug.
You shrug without looking at him and Pedro nods to himself. He doesn’t let his feet drag as he walks over to you, taking your mug and setting it down. Pedro’s front presses to your back and his smell can always immediately help you feel better.
“Did something happen or did you wake up feeling meh?” He mumbled into your hair and you sigh softly as you wrap an arm around his waist, the both of you looking out at the rain. “Meh. I totally get it, I wake up like that sometimes.”
“A lot.”
“Excuse me, not a lot!” He defends himself and you smile without teeth, dropping it when you connect your front with his. “Wanna go watch a movie in the bed and order breakfast from down the street?”
“I don’t want to go in the rain, P.”
“We don’t have to go in the rain!”
47 minutes later, DoorDash arrived as you two watched Bob’s Burgers on the couch.
Pedro waited for the guy to leave before grabbing the food and running out of the living room. You shut off the tv and huff. “Pedro Pascal.. don’t make me use your full name. I want my food.”
You walk into the room and there was Pedro, setting up a breakfast bar on your dressers and desks. “We’ll eat in here. And we can catch up on our show in our favorite place.”
You walk over to him and rub your hand over his stomach, to his ribs and letting it sit on his stomach as you kiss him. “I’m so thankful for you, Pedrito.”
“Hm. Sounded like you were gonna kill me before.” He half-whispers and gives you a wink which makes your cheeks red.
His winks always got you.
Pedro made you a new cup of coffee and grabbed everything you two needed. You grabbed whatever the hell you wanted to eat and sat happily in your spot.
Pedro finally sat down after what felt like 3 hours and you immediately hit play. “Yeah sure go ahead I’m ready.” He mumbles sarcastically and you laugh while hitting pause. A couple minutes pass. “Okay, ready.”
“Finally!”
You hit play.
“Actually babe-” Pedro starts and you immediately hit pause, snapping your head at him and he covers his laugh with his hand. “I’m sorry I was kidding. It was funny, laugh.” He chuckles and pokes your side which made you jump.
“I’ll tape your mouth closed, Pedro. Don’t tempt me.” you look at him and he looks at you over his coffee mug as he takes a sip, giving you a wink before setting it down.
You turn your head to the screen. Damn it.
Pedro put all the dishes and left overs away and he even brought a damp washcloth where he proceeded to clean your face and hands like you were a toddler.
He settled back into bed and you two switched to Crazy, Stupid, Love while you cuddled. Your head laid on his thigh with your arms wrapped loosely around his leg with Pedro’s fingers playing with your hair and massaging your scalp.
The movie got quiet and the rain grew louder. It poured on the roof and you close your eyes as you could hear every drop hit the roof.
“Is it nap time?” Pedro whispers and you laugh. You pull yourself to lay next to him, his head now on your chest with your arm around his neck and playing with his hair.
You looked at him, and it took him a minute to look back at you. You brushed a curl from his face and smile. “My exes would’ve told me to put a smile on my face this morning if they saw me how you did. They’d ridicule me-”
“But I’m not them, I’ll never be them, and they’ll certainly never be me.” Pedro gloats and you roll your eyes with a laugh. “I know how they were. And I’m here to tell you it’s okay to have days like today, whether it’s rain or shine. And I will always be there for those days, good and bad.”
Tears wanted to fall but they just blurred your vision. You press your forehead to his with your eyes closed. “Thank you.” The grip on his shirt was tight it nearly ripped holes.
You just could never let him go.
“Always, princesa.” He whispered and kissed your nose, then your lips before snuggling under your chin and squeezing you into him.
With your hands rubbing up and down his back, the soft whistle from his nose, incoherent mumbles, you took it all in.
You couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful soul of a partner.
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hellotherekenobi · 2 years
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Temptation’s Kiss.
Summary: the three times Obi-Wan almost kissed you and the one time he did.
Word Count: 6,762
Dedicated to my kid sister @kyber-crystal!! Love you!
CW/TW: Obi-Wan’s POV; super light angst but mostly fluff; mentions of blood & injury; my Clone OC makes a reappearance; I’m addicted to using Star Wars slang.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
As a Jedi, Obi-Wan is accustomed to rules. No attachments, keep the peace, and never give into the Dark Side. Simple enough and, as he believes, important rules to have. But after meeting you, he’s had to assert some of his own rules.
Don’t let this feeling fester, keep his composure, and most important of all don’t kiss you.
He’s never felt a temptation as strong as wanting to do something so dangerous since knowing you. He’s been angry before—vengeful, even—but this was something entirely more difficult to withstand. It would be so easy, like nothing at all, to simply lean forward and press his lips to yours, but—no! He can’t.
He won’t.
Just, Maker please, stop giving him those eyes.
It’s not even deliberate, that’s the issue. You have no idea how that look of yours makes Obi-Wan’s knees weak. How butterflies start swarming in the pit of his stomach the moment you look at him from under your lashes with parted lips. Maker, he’s losing himself.
The moment itself isn’t tempting, which makes this harder. He wasn’t exactly expecting for his heart to lurch out of his chest when you stepped closer to him. All he had done was hold your lightsaber out to you when you were about to leave the training room without it. You walked over to him quickly, thanked him under your breath, and as soon as your fingers touched the hilt and his skin, you gave him that soul-dividing look.
He could split in half having you look at him like that. You whisper his name and that isn’t helping in the slightest, especially as he’s lost his breath and so no reply can form even if he wants one to.
Don’t you know that you’re tearing him from the inside out with just your eyes?
Finally, you speak. “You’re always looking out for me.”
That brings him down from whatever numbered cloud he was perched upon, now swallowing enough to gain his voice. “Well, you really shouldn’t lose this.”
“I know,” you smile. “You’d kill me.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s me who you’d have to worry about.”
Obi-Wan nods his head up and you hold his gaze for a moment, totally cheerful, before turning around to see he motioned over at Master Yoda down the hallway; not near enough to hear or, probably, see you both, but still there.
“You’re right about that, I’m afraid,” chuckling, you look back at him and the wind is knocked from him again. “All the more agreeable for you since I bested you in our match.”
“Now, hold on,” he wags a finger and you laugh. “You said best two out of three.”
“I did.”
“That was two. You’ve yet to beat me a third time.”
“Ah, but, Obi-Wan,” you step nearer to him. “You just admitted I’ve beaten you twice already.”
His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s worried it’s going to make an ugly splatter down his robes if you catch him off guard one more time. Around you, he feels boyish. He finds himself irrational and blushing. Maker, hopefully you never catch the tint on his cheeks. Though, he must thank you; he’s never smiled so much before since knowing you.
And you seem to always be smiling at him, too. He does hope that it’s not all in his head, though. He really hopes that incandescent smile of yours is meant for him.
“Well,” he gradually finds his voice. “It would be rather foolish of me not to recognize your skill.”
“My thoughts exactly,” you glow, reaching forward to straighten the fold in his tunic.
Please don’t feel how fast his heart is beating. Please.
“A match for another time, though,” you draw your hand back. “I’m already late as it is.”
Obi-Wan nods, placing a hand where yours just was. Only briefly to feel the warmth there. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Of course, you will,” there’s laughter on your lips, shaking your head at him giddily.
He might cave in at just the sound alone. You’re so ethereal, so golden. Every room is lit up by you and he finds himself like a moth drawn to a flame. Curious and wondering how it might feel to burn himself. Would he taste your laughter amongst the blaze?
Your hand catches his wrist, squeezing gently. “Meet me here at sundown.”
“Of course,” he says, though what he means is anything for you.
Stable breath finally leaves his lungs when you happily turn out of the room, walking fast down the hallway. He’s too eager about seeing you again this evening that he knows his attention will be less than usual as he goes about his errands for the day.
Still, distracted by you is not a bad way to spend his time.
It’s bashful to admit that his thoughts are mostly occupied by you, regardless. For a Jedi with a Code to follow, the mere thought of you is much an effective motivator.
But he’s always been this way. Whether he likes it or not, Obi-Wan knows that he’s a hopeless romantic. It comes in many forms—some with how beautiful he sees such things like nature, the ocean, and the stars, and some with moments like younglings laughing on the grass, or a brother reaching out a hand for support. Many things he romanticizes. It just so happens that amongst all things, you’re the one his heart is set on.
The training room looks much different in a sunlit glow; everything casted over in deep orange. The morning felt cool, but there’s a warmth here now as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon.
He’s been idly swinging the hilt of his lightsaber back and forth, eyes focused on the sunset. Too deep in thought to feel the presence behind him, though he should feel it, that he jumps a fraction when your hand meets his shoulder.
And dear Maker, you’re laughing at him again.
“You’re prepared this time?” Says you, smiling at him with a hint of sarcasm to your words.
Obi-Wan bows some, just enough to have you chuckling.
“Oh, yes. The question is, are you?”
“I suppose we’ll find out,”
Your cloak is thrown over to the side where Obi-Wan’s already lies and you’re stepping to your spot on the floor, watching him eagerly as you extend your lightsaber and it ignites ablaze. He grins at your enthusiasm and within a breath, you’re at each other.
It probably shouldn’t be something he admits to himself, but Obi-Wan quite enjoys sparring with you. There’s a thrill in the way the two of you reflect and deflect each other. An enticing energy of knowing that either of you won’t actually strike the other, though it’s possible. A tempestuous feeling of being close.
Almost like a dance, you and Obi-Wan spin around each other, outstretching hands, dipping beneath the other, and flowing like water until one of you acts the rock that stops the movement.
His boot catches your calf in a childish manner of comically tripping you, yet it’s at such an angle that your whole body tips forward, dropping with the weight of how his action hinders your stability.
If you were Anakin, in all honesty, Obi-Wan would have let you fall. But you’re gasping at the drop and he feels frantic to prevent you from hurting yourself, so he dips quicker than you fall to catch you in his arms. Hastily, however, that he loses his footing in the process and you’re both smacking against the tiles of the training room, your lightsabers retracted and rolling toward the wall.
The only fortune in that is how Obi-Wan goes tumbling first, effectively cushioning your fall straight onto his chest. But his head knocks against the floor, not enough to cause a contusion, but enough to make a sound that has your hand flying straight to the base of his neck from behind.
“Oh,” you worry, eyes direct on him. “Are you alright?”
He offers a smile, though there’s a throbbing in his head now.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“Well, you caught me before I could be the one to smack my head against the floor, so, yes.”
Obi-Wan hums. “I might be regretting that now.”
There’s a slight huff to your smile as you help him sit straight, still close enough that at least some part of him is touching you. In this case, his legs are against your hips as you peer over his shoulder, your fingers still at the base of his neck and now flittering through his hair.
“I don’t feel a bump,” you say, inspecting the hurt area.
He wonders why you don’t sit behind him, since you’re practically draped over his shoulder at this point.
“Aren’t you lucky?”
You mean in reference to the fact that his head isn’t swelling but his mind nags at him that it’s because he’s able to touch you so closely.
“How come you dove for me?” You ask, sitting back to look him in the eyes. “You would have won if you let me fall.”
“Well,” he swallows. “I was hardly playing fair.”
“True, but,” you’re whispering now, “that doesn’t answer my question.”
His answer, if he were to be honest, would be hazardous. To tell you that he cares for you so deeply that even in a friendly match he would risk his own safety just to assure yours would not only speak of the secret to you but go against the Code he’s been following since before he can remember.
“Truth be told,” he starts. “I don’t want to be responsible for the injury of a fellow Jedi.”
“Ah,” you chuckle. “So, you were saving your skin.”
“And hurt my skin in the process.”
You give him a sympathetic smile, rubbing again at his head. His hair’s a mess, surely, if not by the fall then by how keenly he was sparring. Wisps along his forehead, no longer combed back as neatly as he does every morning. You don’t seem to mind, though.
In fact, you’re quite intent on soothing his pain. When Obi-Wan realizes that’s all you’ve been doing for the last minute, he brings a hand up to your own still in his hair and he gently rubs at your skin with his thumb, hoping that the gesture enough will stir you awake from whatever thought you’re buried in.
It does nothing. No, actually, you give him an even softer smile. This time, looking him in the eyes. It makes his heart do a summersault in his chest when it suddenly dawns on him that you’re both sat on the floor, legs pressed against each other, your hand in his hair and his hand on yours, and neither of you seem content to move.
His temptations are flooring him again and Obi-Wan is reminding himself of the rules he’s made, but that prior feeling is so much more powerful and even more harder to resist.
The air feels thinner and he thinks the only solution be your lips, if he were to press his own against them he might be able to breathe. He’s tipping, similar to when he caught you, instead this time he’s leaning for your touch, close to tearing down those rules of his.
Except just the mere mention of the rules, now more tangible as he watches you lean as well, gives him enough reason to stop himself before he starts. Though, he desperately wants to give in. Yet, he’s in the Jedi Temple of all places! This, as much as it is craved by his heart, is something he can’t let himself risk.
He places a hand on your shoulder before he can fall into it anymore, giving you a smile to ward away any confusion. Not that you were truly leaning into him, though. He must have been imagining it.
“Perhaps another time,” he says, meaning the fight but slipping the forbidden kiss between the words as well.
He’s assured no harm is done when you smile at him in reply, but there’s that glint in your eyes he knows too well.
“I won’t fall next time, Obi-Wan. I assure you that.”
Believe it, he’s already fallen.
─────── ⋯ ───────
As much as Obi-Wan is a fighter, he can’t deny that he rather enjoys quiet days. Such as now where he sits with his friends on a sunny afternoon, overlooking the gardens of Naboo.
Granted, it was a mission which was his reason for being here in the first place, but it was rather easy and with so many helpful hands it was sorted by lunch time. Padmé, ever the gracious host, insisted everyone stay for something to eat and when he felt his stomach growl at the mere mention of food, Obi-Wan couldn’t say no.
Anakin is sitting next to Padmé on his left and across on the other side is you and Riggs, a brave clone trooper and friend. Obi-Wan has always relished in the sound of your laughter, even feeling quite accomplished when he makes you smile, so your joy is something contagious as Riggs tells another one of his infamous stories.
“You’re always getting yourself into trouble,” you chuckle, nudging Riggs in the shoulder.
He laughs, brows raising in defense.
“Me?” He counters. “Says you, sparky. Should I tell everyone about our time on Bar’leth?”
Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the way you flare at that, shaking your head at Riggs in what is most likely supposed to be a subtle motion but it’s pretty obvious to anyone paying attention.
Your reaction only seems to spur Riggs on, who smiles wider than a Cheshire cat.
“I don’t think I’ve heard that one,” Anakin pitches in, leaning on the table with his elbow. “Care to share?”
“No,” you shake your head, looking from Riggs to Anakin. “It’s a very boring story, honestly.”
“Let them be the judge of that,” Riggs nudges your arm like you had done to him earlier. “It started off as a basic recon mission. We were going to spend the night when—”
“Riggs.”
He’s chuckling at your attempts to shut him up and Obi-Wan, silently watching the whole thing, starts to get this fire burning in the pit of his stomach that he’s not used to.
“The night?” He asks, cautiously. “Together?”
“Oh, yeah,” Riggs nods, facing Obi-Wan and gesturing with his hands. “Have you seen the way this one sleeps? Trust me, I’ve got pictures—”
The rest of his sentence gets swallowed down with the slice of cake you suddenly shove into his mouth, muffling whatever else he was ready to say.
“Have you tried the cake?” You ask, voice spikey. “I think the cake is delicious. Anyone want a piece?”
Padmé and Anakin are laughing, happily accepting your offer for some dessert. Riggs chuckles through a cough when he tries to consume the cake piece in his mouth in one gulp, and you’re slapping down on his back to help him but your lips are drawn in a tight line and Riggs makes a noise of pain.
“Obi-Wan?” Comes your voice, eyes on him.
He’s startled out of his trance—having been so focused on the way that despite the story you don’t want told, you’ve moved closer to Riggs—and finds himself confused on why you’ve called his name.
You smile, gesturing down at the table. “Do you want some cake?”
“Oh,” he breathes out, shaking his head. “No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another thing. I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“Now?” Anakin asks, eyeing his master with that brotherlike inspection. “Where are you going?”
“Just around,”
It’s more so a rushed answer as he excuses himself from the table, turning on his heel and ignoring the gazes set on him by everyone who watches him leave.
Being quick about it is probably not the best as hastiness, especially when running from something, is a clear identifier of offense. But he had to get away, strangely. That fiery feeling in his stomach grew too hot when he saw how cozy you and Riggs were sitting beside each other, and it felt like the flames were going to spill out from his mouth.
He’s never felt like this before. It’s scary, for one thing, that he can even experience a feeling that isn’t in his vocabulary, though there’s a storm over his head that tells him exactly what it is he just felt and why exactly he pushed himself away from the scene.
Though he flees, Obi-Wan does admire the Naboo gardens as he walks. Everything here is so vibrant; the water, the grass, the flowers, the fruit, the tastes and smells. If Obi-Wan convinces himself enough, he can believe this planet to be paradise.
Even so, it seems he can’t be alone for long.
“Obi-Wan,” he hears you call, and acting the fool, he runs.
Not as if he were being chased, but just quick enough to dip behind the large hedge and hide himself.
He sees you a moment later, walking down the path he was on a moment before with a small plate in your hand and a slice of cake sitting on it. Oh, how his heart melts at the sight of you.
What he thinks is going to happen is that you’ll look around, find him nowhere in sight, and keep on walking, or return to the others. At first, he thinks he’s correct as you stop in your place and look around the garden. But then you huff, something irritated, and march over to the hedge he’s crouched behind, shoving a fist through the foliage that meets him on the other side.
“Ow!” He cries, rubbing at his chest where you punched him.
“I knew you were there,” you say, stepping around it to face him. “Why did you hide?”
Obi-Wan pouts at the ache in his chest. You can land one hell of a punch.
“I wanted to be alone,” he says, not missing the way there’s a crease forming between your brows.
“Sorry,” you say it so softly, it almost breaks his heart. “You left so suddenly, I thought something must be wrong. So, I brought you a slice.”
Now, Obi-Wan feels guilty. All that surge of emotions prompted him to speak without really thinking first.
“I appreciate it,” he says, stepping forward to take the plate from your hand.
He doesn’t get ahold of it, though, as your hand grabs his wrist, pulling him alongside you as you walk across the garden. He’s stammering, asking you what you’re doing, but you just lead him with you over to a bench under a blossoming canopy, sitting down with a huff.
The plate is placed down beside you and to Obi-Wan’s dismay it is on the furthest side.
“You know you can tell me anything,” you say.
It’s truthful and Obi-Wan knows it, nodding with what you say. But he can’t find the words to tell you what’s on his mind. Or, rather, what’s on his heart. That’s the most embarrassing of all. The fire he felt is something he doesn’t want to utter aloud, but knows its reasoning. He’d rather keep it concealed.
When it seems you grow impatient at his silence, you shuffle toward him, sitting closer, and hold your hands out.
“Come on,” you wave them. “Meditate with me.”
Meditating sounds a lovely respite, however, he knows where his thoughts are heading. This will make matters worse, especially if you manage to hear him.
“No, thank you. I’m afraid I’m far from focused right now. I just needed some air.”
“While we sat outside?” Your brow raises with the tone of your voice, eyeing him suspiciously. “No cake, no meditating, and giving me some bantha fodder excuse... what’s wrong, really?”
Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You shouldn’t say that.”
Not like he’s been much of a saint with his vocabulary but, still, there is a matter of propriety he’s trying to maintain.
It doesn’t deter you, though. You sigh, reaching for him again. This time, holding his arms, leaning forward like you’re trying to peek behind his eyelids.
“Was it something I did?”
“No,” he’s quick to say it. “No, not you. That’s impossible.”
You smile at him, short and prideful. “Then how can I make things better, Obi-Wan? How can I help you?”
Everything you say sounds so beautiful, so tempting. If he knew there’d be no repercussions, he’d fall right into you. He’d let you hold him, knowing that even something as simple as that can cure him from his unnecessary saddling.
What he wants from you will not help him, though he wants to give into it. You’re so close to him again like that evening in the training room and he finds himself falling into what could be described as nostalgia even though the memory is not that far away.
He feels drawn-in again, a buzzing on his lips in yearning to press them against your own. Maker, you’re looking at him with those deep eyes and he’s losing his sense of control once more. The atmosphere aids in sweltering those feelings even more, sitting in such a romantic setting.
Moving does nothing to deter himself, he realizes. As soon as he shifts slightly, his hands drawing down your arms to settle in place where your hands are on him, he finds the space between you is more minimal than what it should be.
He wants to. He really wants to. But he knows he can’t.
“You can do me one favor,” he says, and your alertness is admirable. “Pass me the cake?”
You laugh, leaning backward when he says it and he’s freed from the closeness you both shared. With a smile on your lips, Obi-Wan understands how the fire in his stomach ignited from the way he loves making you laugh and, apparently, hates it when someone else can do it better than he can.
“If it helps,” you shake your head, picking up the plate, “then I’ll happily save you a slice.”
He’s done the same for you. Not with cake, but with his heart.
─────── ⋯ ───────
Dark clouds are swirling in the sky as the rain pours down heavily, almost making it hard to see. Obi-Wan is growing tired of running but he knows he can’t stop. Not unless he wants to be captured. Not unless he ever wants to see you again.
Getting ambushed on a mission is not exactly top five of the things Obi-Wan likes to experience, but being in the thick of it was simply his style. Where else would he be, really, if not right where it’s all happening, right in the danger?
Anakin was somewhere with Rex and Ahsoka, aiding one side of the battle, while Obi-Wan and yourself were fighting on this side. In the height of all of it, though, you both were separated. He knows you can handle yourself but he can’t help from worrying. After all, even in a playful spar, he’s making sure you don’t get hurt.
He’s fortunate enough to find coverage somewhere secluded, away from any prying eyes. Fortunate to catch his breath as he slides his lightsaber against his hip, leaning his head on the pillar and seeing his breath fanning in the air by how cold it is.
He knows he can’t stay here long. He needs to keep moving, otherwise they’ll find him. It’s not the best place to hide, anyhow, as the only thing keeping him from being seen is this pillar, and the rain is wafting down to where he is that he’s still getting wet. Less than standing under the sky, but not enough to bother wiping his brow.
There’s a pressure in the air before he sees a face, but he knows it’s coming quick enough to get his hand prepped on his lightsaber hilt, one move from drawing it.
Then, “Obi-Wan,”
It’s your voice and he turns to watch you slink behind the pillar further down, each pillar standing in a line, pressing your back up against it.
“Thank the stars,” he says under his breath, turning to lean on his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
You shake your head. “No. Are you?”
“No more than usual.”
When you raise your brow at him, he chuckles. It’s short-lived due to the tightness in his chest from having run for so long, still breathing heavily.
Same as him, you’re soaked from head to toe. You attempt to squeeze some water out of your robes but with the rain sweeping past the pillars, it doesn’t do much. With a sigh, you seem to also be delaying to rest, even for a short moment.
“So much for an easy mission,” you shake your head.
Obi-Wan grins. “Are they ever?”
“I suppose you’re right. Oh—” you click your fingers and he doesn’t fear the noise, knowing that the rain is covering up your voices. “What about Naboo? That was a piece of cake.”
He stares at you a moment, furrowing his brows some. There’s a chuckle ready to pour out from his mouth at any second, but it’s holding its place as he ponders.
“Was that a pun?” He asks.
You smile, ever so eagerly. “Of course.”
He lets the chuckle die, not necessarily being a big fan of puns, much to the dismay of one Anakin Skywalker.
“Well,” he confesses, “it’s nice to know you still have your sense of humor in situations like this.”
“And I’ve still got you.”
He smiles some, watching the droplets of water running down your face. It instinctually has him wiping at his forehead.
“As I have you.” He says.
You nod, peering behind the pillar. “Always.”
It won’t always be like this, though. Will it? Times change and Obi-Wan has known them to change pretty quickly, so he can’t help but wonder how long this will last, whatever this is. He hates to think that you only see him as a friend or a fellow Jedi and nothing more when he sees you like the sun on a cloudy day.
What he would give for some sun right now. When this mission is over, he fears he’ll get a cold.
“Have you seen the others?” He asks, hopeful that you’ve accomplished more than him.
“Only from when we landed,” you tell him. “But Ahsoka reached me by comlink. They’ve almost swept their area so I told her to meet us here, then I came and found you.”
“Good thinking,” he breathes out, finally regaining a normal rhythm with the beating in his chest.
There’s a kick of wind amidst the storm and a plentiful amount of rain comes splashing past the pillars and crashing onto the ground by both your feet. It makes you jump, stepping to the side of the pillar you were hiding behind.
“This rain is relentless!” You cry, looking down at all the water that leaves a giant puddle. “My boots are soaked. I’ll have to get some new ones—”
Water doesn’t pour past the pillars this time but instead gunfire does. A singular shot cuts through the rain, nipping your arm and you yelp, and then the rest of the cavalry seemingly arrive as more and more shots are fired where you are standing out in the open.
Obi-Wan manages to spring into action after the first shot, luckily, and grabs ahold of the arm closest to him, tugging you over to his pillar and right up against his body, where he shields the sides of you with his arms.
The gunfire doesn’t cease and you flinch, burying your face into his robes. He can only think to hold onto you tightly so that not even an inch of yourself is peeking past the pillar, in order that you don’t get shot at again.
When the attacks quieten, leaving just the downpour to fill up the empty space, Obi-Wan tightens a hand on your shoulder.
“Looks like you were followed,” he grumbles, though he knows it’s not your fault.
Your hands go from resting on his chest to gripping tightly onto his arms, risking a glance to the side in what Obi-Wan assumes is trying to find where the gunfire came from.
“Mother of Kwath!” You rage. “I was so careful too.”
He feels it in him to berate you for using that kind of speech yet again, but decides better of it.
“No use fretting on the past,” Obi-Wan says, one hand drawing to your back. “How bad is it?”
Your face contours into concentration, looking like you’re trying to number the amount of soldiers adjacent to where you both stand. Any freedom the two of you had to spring back into action is gone now. At the moment, you’re cornered.
“I can only make out the front line,” you groan, slinking in his arms. “There’s a lot of them, though.”
Obi-Wan hums. “Let’s hope that the others come quickly. But I was asking about your arm.”
You glance up at him, paused for a moment, like what he said comes as a complete shock to you, if only for the second after he said it.
“Oh,” looking down at your arm, you shrug. “It’s a scratch.”
“Really?”
Obi-Wan’s hand at your shoulder comes down to rest at the reddened area on your arm, undoubtedly where the blood is seeping through from the gunshot wound. He’s gentle as he peels back the cut in your robes, now singed, to inspect the area.
True as you said, it’s essentially a scratch. But it must have nicked you more than what he thought it did since it’s bleeding quite heavily. Nothing a bandage won’t fix, yet it’s there.
“Your verdict?” You ask him.
For the first time since he grabbed you, he realizes just how close the two of you are. Looking into your eyes feels as if walking into a trap, and the words get lodged in his throat as you watch him under your lashes.
You really, really don’t know what that look does to him.
“You’ll live,” he says, though he thinks he’s dying.
Even more so when the gunfire kicks up again and you’re stepping closer on instinct, same as he with wrapping his arms around you, and with the jump you both make, your noses touch.
The firing and rain might as well fade into the background, that’s how focused Obi-Wan is on you right now. There’s a voice in the back of his head, screaming at him to pay attention, you idiot! But he’s so far gone. So far gone. There’s no hope in coming back from this now.
He feels your hands climb his shoulders, one on the back of his neck and the other at his cheek, and he shivers as if the cold is what makes him do that.
“Obi-Wan,” you speak. “There might not be a next time.”
He’s fearful for a moment that you’ve just heard his thoughts, or that he isn’t wearing as good a poker face as he believed. But that can’t be what you mean. Going out in a blaze of glory, surely, is what exactly you meant by those words.
Though he thinks they’ll haunt him for the rest of his life if you both make it out of here alive.
Which, so happens, turns out to be very possible as a flash of blue comes from behind the pillar and moments later, Ahsoka’s head is peeking around the corner.
“Let’s go, you two.” She says with a curious eye.
You’re out of his arms within a second, running behind Ahsoka to jump into the fight.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, has to give himself a moment to breathe before he can pretend like he wasn’t just about to break one of his rules he so adamantly set up.
─────── ⋯ ───────
It’s been two weeks since the mission in the rain and Obi-Wan has been steadfast in taking every single mission thereafter that can put some distance between himself and you.
Even outside of the Order, if you and the others were going to spend time together, he’d give a curt “no, thank you” and some daft excuse and be as far away as possible from wherever everyone was going.
Maybe it’s a cowardly thing to do, since essentially Obi-Wan is running away, but with the temptations behind him already he feels like this is the only solution.
Anakin has asked about it, though. Ever the persistent friend, trying to uncover whatever Obi-Wan is hiding from him. He gets the same response every time—“There’s a war, Anakin.”—but none of it seem to deter him for very long.
Slowly, one by one, more people began to speak out about Obi-Wan’s behavior. Even Riggs. That was not a fun conversation. You too have tried to talk to him about it but he’s quick to make sure that you both have little to no interaction whatsoever, even if that means being a little harsh about it.
So, understandably, people were going to figure it out. Padmé, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Cody, and Riggs have actually managed to talk to him. But you, on the other hand, have been evaded at every turn. Yes, it was obvious and everyone caught onto it. Now, Obi-Wan stays away from anyone he can (which doesn’t work well when you have Jedi duties to do.)
One day it happens. Obi-Wan is walking through the hangar bay to get to a ship for yet another solo missioned he accepted—though he really begged for it—and you’re waiting for him at the door of the vehicle, arms crossed and gaze set like stone against him.
Caraya’s Soul, you look scary like that.
He tries to play it casually, but in reality he’s beginning to sweat.
“Hello there,” he says, putting on a smile.
You don’t so much as grin at him. The ice cold front is not something he’s been a victim to with you before, and he pities whoever has.
“Let’s not dance around this, Obi-Wan.” Even your voice is far from cheerful. “Why are you avoiding me?”
The one thing he didn’t plan for, he now realizes, is the confrontation. He’s been running even from that.
“I’m sorry if you feel that way, but I promise I’ve only been doing my duty to the Order. I sometimes devote all my attention to it.”
Obi-Wan knows that’s the oldest lie in the book and it’s one of the most heartless lies as well, since he’s essentially flipping the blame onto you and hoping that you’ll take it and leave.
But you’re more persistent than that and Obi-Wan knows this, with the exception of you leaning off of the ship and stepping directly in front of him.
“You’re a kriffing liar, Obi-Wan.”
“You really shouldn’t say—”
“You’re ignoring me and I want to know why!”
That’s the most angered you’ve ever been around him and what hurts him is that he’s the one you’re angry at. He theorized that with his relentless avoidance that you could be upset, sad mostly, but angry wasn’t something he thought he’d come up against.
So, he does what he knows has worked so far. He runs away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says it like he’s offended, stepping around you. “You’re imagining things.”
Your hand reaches out and grabs him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Stop lying to me, Obi-Wan. I know you better than you think and I can tell something’s wrong, and I can tell it’s to do with me.”
There’s hurt in your voice and Obi-Wan wants to wrap you in his arms like he caught you during training, or when he wanted to hold your hands in the Naboo gardens, or when he held you to him behind the pillar. All reasons why he wants to run to you and all reasons why he ran from you in the first place.
“We were so close,” you say. “What happened?”
He’s reminded of just how many good times there have been with you. All the times you both spent together—training, fighting alongside each other, drinking Jawa Juice in the silent hours of the morning when both of you should be asleep, and how with every joke he’d tell, you’d hold onto his arm like you haven’t heard anything funnier.
The grip you have on his arm now is not as pleasant as those times, though. He can feel it from your veins to his that you’re desperate.
“Let me in, Obi-Wan.” You whisper, turning toward him. “Won’t you, please?”
He’ll slip, he knows he will, if he lets you talk to him like that. He’ll fall even harder and ignore that voice in his head even more just from one look from you. Without so much as knowing it, you can reel him in by the simple gestures alone.
He can’t let himself get tangled in this. As the wielder of a blue lightsaber, he has to guard himself. Protect his heart from the dangers of loving you.
Pressing his hand down firmly on yours still holding tight to his arm, he pulls you off of him.
“There’s nothing to say.”
He sees your heart break when you frown at him, as if he threw the words right at you.
“Why are you doing this?” Your question presses him and there’s a waver to your voice that almost shatters him.
He sighs, aching through his bones. “I have to go.”
“Don’t hide from me,”
“There’s much I have to do—”
“You’re hurting my feelings.”
He groans within himself, screwing his eyes shut. “I mean no harm, I promise.”
“Then tell me I don’t matter.”
At once, his eyes open and he sees the damage he’s truly done. You’re crying silently, waiting for him to make it worse. The determination he had to rid your mark on him goes melting away to the floor, content on dissolving beneath his feet.
All the strength he has feels like it’s failing him. He can’t stay but he can’t bear to go. He’s splitting apart, ripping rigidly into two shapes he won’t be able to recognize once they separate.
Is it even possible that he can remain a whole without you in his life?
There is not even an ounce of him that can say the words you want him to speak, even if it’s a lie. Simply saying it would do more damage to him than you can possibly imagine.
He shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”
You raise your chin, frustrations seeping into the sadness of your gaze. “No, I want you to say it.”
“Why would you want that?”
“Because if you say it then I’ll let you leave.”
You’re tearing him apart with this, digging your fingers into his flesh. There is not an inch of him that detests you so, not even some part of him that finds one attribute of yours less than lovely. You’re everything to him.
“I can’t just let you go,” you say, lips trembling. “Because I love you too much. I have to hear you say that I don’t matter so that I don’t hold on for an explanation you’ll never tell.”
A weight drops on him, direct on his chest. It pushes and pushes and he loses his breath.
“You love me?”
The question feels so boyish but you look so sure, and it’s enough for him to forget every warning he’s ever told himself.
“I’ve always loved you.” You tell him.
That’s enough, he thinks, to break the dam. Nothing could penetrate his armor, he once thought, but you’ve done it with gentle fingers. With one touch, he dispels like smoke and with it go his rules.
He does what he held himself back from doing before, three times already. Obi-Wan reaches out, his hand on your cheek, and he leans closer than the two of you have ever been and he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, and achingly. He kisses you with sincerity. He kisses you with all the might he has remaining.
His affections pulse between your lips, flowing like electricity enough to spark you awake. Instantly, your arms are wrapped around him, pushing enough to make the space between you burst. It shatters so that only you two remain.
Obi-Wan kisses you now, knowing he’ll kiss you again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life with you, burying his lightsaber in the sand.
Taglist: @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @immoral-rose @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @pradahux @inukako @whyiminlove @cosmicsierra @dxnxdjarxn @voidmalfoy @darthkenobii @iamtracyz @chogisss @nectav @disastereyebags @hellolitty @stareyeddie @liviiii98 @dameronology @overly-obssessed-with-you @onewholikesthings @shadowhuntyi @greeneyedblondie44 @doublesunsets @night-ace @mkr31011
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celabi · 1 year
Note
So... This is my first time asking but... What would scummy scara do if his obsession happen to be shorter than him? Perhaps a bit chubby too.... (Not me asking cause I'm a grown adult that's 4'10, no sir >•>)
Scummy Scaramouche doesn’t care what hight you are, or your size. Though if you’re shorter then him, he’d actually feel kinda prideful? Like, he’s not that tall himself, and no where near as muscular as he wants to be— so if he doesn’t have to raise his head up meet your eyes, maybe you’d think of him as someone worthy to protect you? (Though that’s not the case cause he’s pretty weak… but he’d like you to think that)
If you’re chubby… good luck because he’s going to latch onto your body 10x more. He thinks chubby thighs are the sexiest thing in the world, you probably will catch him staring at them with drool running down his chin and a crazed look in his eyes. He likes the chub on your stomach a lot, and will almost always have his hand on it while you’re both cuddling or something— he says it’s cause it feels nice in his hands. If you have chubby cheeks, he’s probably been tempted to bite them at least once, but stopped himself so to not mark your beautiful face.
I’d say he loves to come up behind you while you’re doing things like washing the dishes, or brushing your teeth— and wrap his arms around your waist, his fingers prodding softly at your skin while he stuffs his face into the crook of your neck. Says Its cause you make him feel warm.
Stg he will dead ass kill anyone who makes a bad or suggestive comment about you.
And idk will beg on his knees so you sit on his face 😱
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pigeonwit · 5 months
Note
hello again mr pigeon 'pidge' wit i come to u with a writing req ....... no pressure to write obviously!!!!
but consider ur shitface drunk davey w jack (potentially friends too) at a restaurant ... javey aren't together at this point ... but davey is just a little too drunk and ends up pretty much lying with his head on jacks lap ... cue 'jack, I don't wanna go all the way home all by myself ....... can I come home with you?' and jack being the smitten pushover he is of course lets David 'Lightweight' Jacobs sleep in his bed with him ...
davey wakes up has no recollection of what happened and is SO concerned when he wakes up in jacks bed - jack is shirtless - and oh lord he's SO hungover .... anyway ...
consider also jack waking up and saying 'hey beautiful' and Davey short circuiting and jack shrugging and saying 'well u seemed to like it just fine last night'
sorry for the long af ask but this????? in your writing style!!!!! I would shit myself /pos
roman i have had this in my inbox for so long cause i want to write this so goddamn badly but alas uni is killing me, so that's probably not gonna happen for a while. BUT! i do have little snippets for your convenience, because again, this idea was so fun and i wanted to write it so so badly. hope these can tide you over:
“Davey,” Jack says, far more charmed than he should be, because he is pathetic, “maybe you oughta take a break for a bit, you’re-”
“Don’t worry yourself, handsome,” Davey winks, and Jack immediately feels his stomach drop. They have entered Flirty Drunk Davey, which means Jack is going to be of no help for the entire evening. “I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions, and I’m deciding to get sloshed tonight.” He drums his hands on the table as he gets up and shoots Jack a finger-gun as he stumbles only slightly. “Livin’ la vida loca!”
Oh, Jack is a sad man. Jack is a weak, pathetic little man who is in love with someone that just said livin’ la vida loca unironically. Jack is a sad, sad man.
[…]
“And iguanodons,” Davey says quite seriously, with one finger raised like a very wobbly professor,“iguanodons, they walk like – like this…”
He shapes each of his hands into three-toed points and leans forward to plant them on the floor.
“Oh, no-” Jack says quickly, taking his wrists and gently pulling him upright. “No, Davey, that’s okay, don’t – don’t crawl on the floor, pal.”
Davey looks at him with the largest eyes Jack’s ever seen in his life.
“But that’s how iguanodons walk…” He says plaintively, like Jack is a monster who is stifling a very important display of science, and Jack is so pathetically gone for him that he’s almost tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry Davey, by all means crawl around on the floor like a dinosaur, I love you so much.’ Christ, he needs to skip town, go somewhere so repressed he’ll never even think about feelings again without curling up and dying of shame. Britain, maybe. Or wherever the Amish live.
“I know, bud,” Jack soothes, rubbing a hand down his back. “You, uh – you just show me later, okay? We’re going inside now.”
[…]
Right. Right. Breathe. Facts. That’s what Davey needs. Facts.
Fact one: he is currently in Jack’s bed, in Jack’s sweatpants.
Fact two: he cannot remember how he got into either Jack’s bed or Jack’s sweatpants.
Fact three: Jack is making pancakes. Shirtless. With a bit of batter stuck to his collarbone that Davey really wants to lick.
(Fact three, subheading: Davey might still be a little bit drunk)
Conclusion: Davey had literally mind-blowing sex last night while more drunk than a Baltic tide and has thus not only ruined the best friendship he’s ever had, but can’t even reminisce over the memory of it to soothe the wound. Fantastic.
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star-girl69 · 1 year
Text
Ultraviolence
Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader
—-
a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of death, animal death, violence and gore, swearing, tell me if i misses anything!!
Chapter Seven - In the Before
Chapter Seven - In the Before
—-
2021-
After taking the weekend off of work to avoid Jessica Roberts, Sunday night rolled around, and as you set out your outfit for the next morning, you were reminded distinctively of nights before school, that same dreadful feeling.
You also thought about the moment right before you picked a card.
The knock at your door was unexpected, so you frowned even as you opened it, and a short woman with curly blonde hair smiled widely at you.
“Y/N!” she shouted, throwing her hands out, like she was gonna hug you, but you pulled back.
“Do I know-?” But then she adjusted her glasses in a way that was so distinctively her. “Misty?”
She smiled wider.
“And I brought a friend!” she winked, and you frowned even more, tempted to shut the door on her face.
You peered around her, until a voice came from just next to you, a hand suddenly resting on your doorframe.
“Y/N,” she said, and it was the voice that you could hear through violence, through mountains and rivers and thousands of miles. The voice that brought you through the violence and into the peace, brought you out of the wilderness.
“Natalie,” you whispered after a moment. Her face appeared around the corner, and she looked just like she did in 2019- black leather jacket, black hair, her lips pulled into a tight line.
“Y/N,” she said again. Like she was saying your name just to say it, just to make sure you were there. “Travis… Travis is dead.”
—-
1996-
After your turn of carrying Coach Ben, you were eager to be near the front, closer to the end, following close behind Van and the compass she had taken from the cockpit.
You kept your eyes peeled for anything edible along the trail you followed, naturally carved out by generations of animals moving from the forest to the lake.
You stopped, crouching down to brush aside a small string of english ivy, only to find inedible winterberries. You sighed, standing back up and taking another good look at this section of the forest.
Someone stood next to you.
“You know, it’s pretty cool that your mom’s a botanist.” You looked at Natalie and smiled softly, wondering if you could run your fingers through her hair like it was strands of ivy.
“Yeah,” you muttered, falling into step beside her.
“I mean it’s really cool for us, because we would be even more screwed than we already are if we didn’t know what was safe to eat out here,” she laughed. “I probably would have eaten those elderberries or whatever raw and died.”
“You go around eating random stuff in the forest a lot?”
“It’s my favorite past-time,” she chuckled, and suddenly her hand brushed against yours, and it was like the lightning that had brought your plane down.
Her skin felt like violence, everything about her did, but you still wanted to sink into her.
You weren’t a fool. Natalie was beautiful, but what was even the possibility of her liking girls?
You pushed the thought out of your mind and shut up before you could say anything stupid.
—-
2021-
You had loved Natalie far too recklessly and far too much. Inthe wilderness, you loved her enough to even let her eat you. But after, when you came back, and saw that love wasn’t about suffering- you still couldn’t let her go.
She was as much deep into your soul as the wilderness was.
If someone were to cut you open, dig around in your soul, they would find your messed-up organs inside, and her, and the wilderness.
She was violence, and once, in a world full of violence, she made you feel safe and loved. She held you at night and made sure there was meat in your stomach, even if you had to hunt it, or kill it.
But in the real world, you weren’t hungry, and you were still scared- but not in a way that bonded you to her. Not anymore.
After Misty had invited herself in, and Nat had followed her, all you had been able to do was sit on the couch. Natalie stood, far away from you, while Misty made you something to drink and sat next to you, rubbing your shoulder.
Even after all these years, you couldn’t tell if her sympathetic smile was genuine.
Everyone in that plane crash had left something permanent, a scar, on your memory. You remembered everyone who died- from Pilot Fred to everyone who was killed to keep the rest alive. To keep you alive.
“How- how can he be dead?”
“Oh, he killed himself,” Misty frowned, much too calm and happy considering that someone you once had killed alongside with was dead. “We found him- hanging from a construction crane.”
“I don’t believe he killed himself.”
You looked at Natalie, and now it was your turn to look her up and down, your eyes wide and your bones stiff, mouth parted slightly even now in horror. You could imagine a pair of work boots swinging from the air.
It was a while before you could find the courage to speak.
“How did you find me, Natalie?”
Misty took a breath as if to answer-
“I didn’t want to, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear but- Travis is dead, n-” she stopped herself from saying that word.
You cut her a sharp glare, squeezing the handle of the untouched coffee mug Misty had made you.
There was too much associated with that word, an entire other life you had lived- drawing cards, eating too-tough meat, sinewy and chewy, her voice that you loved, whispering, calling you that nickname as she handed you another piece of your friends.
Once you had loved that name. You had loved being hers.
But you were not that girl anymore.
And Natalie wasn’t either.
“Sorry,” she whispered after a moment. She stared into your eyes then looked away, digging her hands into her pockets.
This- this wasn’t the Natalie you knew.
The girl who you had loved in the wilderness wasn’t the same girl as you loved in 2019. But still- things stayed the same. This was like an entire different person. Like someone had crawled into your skin.
You imagined a skeletal hand, clutching a pair of spindly scissors, making a slice down her back to step into.
“But you deserved to know.”
You had always loved her far too much.
—-
1996-
You were the first to smell it. It smelled like the jaws of death, like the remnant of every horrible meal- innocent or not.
“What’s that smell?” you asked, pressing your sleeve to your face.
“I don’t know,” Natalie said back, looking around the forest, until Lottie gasped. “Holy shit.”
Flies swarmed about it, reminding you of the sound a hot summer day made, a glittering blue pool, something cold in your hand, a bright sun- there wasn’t the carcass of a bear, left half eaten, being picked on by a crow. It’s organs fell out of it’s ripped apart stomach, and the blood on the ground had long since dried.
“Oh, God, I’m gonna puke,” you heard Jackie moan.
You groaned to yourself, looking away from the dead thing.
“Woah. Sick,” Travis remarked.
“What could have done that?” Shauna asked, and she was right. What could kill a fucking bear?
“A wolf, probably,” Coach Ben said.
“They can kill a fucking bear?” Nat asked.
“Yeah. Wolves can kill anything if the pack’s big enough.”
Nat stared at it longer, you standing next to her, not wanting to drift far away- even like this.
“Let’s keep moving,” she announced suddenly, sharing a look with you before marching down the trail.
—-
The closer you got to the lake, the more serene the forest became, like this place was a truce- nothing bad could come near the lake, near that vital life-giving place of water.
But, the journey was wearing on all of you, and you were all slowing down. And without the sports experience like the other girls had, you were struggling especially.
“Ah!” you yelped as your foot got caught on a root- you could barely even look at the ground, your eyes wanting to close, wanting to give up. Not even the promise of the lake was enough anymore.
Natalie grabbed onto you quick, one of her arms around your chest, like it was on the plane, the other gripping onto your shoulder.
“Woah, you okay?” she asked, helping you walk over to the side of the trail, to lean against a tall oak tree.
“I’m not a soccer player,” you groaned, “I just write about it. I don’t- don’t have the stamina like you guys…”
“Hah, hah,” Natalie said, squeezing your hand. “You’re fine. I feel like I’m dying too. Don’t worry,” You shot her an exasperated look, and she studied your face, before looking back down the path. “This shit is way longer than four miles. What if we missed it?” she asked, raising her voice so the rest of the team could hear her.
“From the angle of the sun, it looked just left of due north.” Taissa responded, her voice sounding heavy and weighted. Natalie rolled her eyes, tugging you back onto the path with a hand wrapping around your arm.
“Oh, great. ‘Left.’ That’s a precise way of doing it.” Jackie said, sarcasm dropping from her words.
“I’m not a fucking cartographer,” Tai shot back.
“Or maybe you saw a mirage.”
Each step like it was weighed down by a hundred pound weight. You felt sick and horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to lie still in the shade, or jump into whatever lake Taissa had seen, real or not.
You would even jump into a pool of blood, a swamp, as long as in your mind it felt like cool water.
“Oh, shit.” Van suddenly said, waving her arm frantically. “Oh, hell yeah, bitches!” she shouted, and when you looked at the direction she was running off to, there was a lake just visible through the trees.
—-
taglist:
@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki
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blingblong55 · 1 year
Text
The Red Means I Love You- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Tumblr media
F!Reader.
They say strange fascination, infatuation A lunatic Call me what suits your taste, I just wanna taste And I've always heard it's what's inside that counts
His face was covered in blood, not his or yours. But the man that looked your way at the bar. “Hey it’s okay, let’s just go home.” You know he could hurt a man for just smiling at you. You gave him a small smile. He escorted you to his car, “I forgot my wallet, wait in the car.” You nod and he goes back inside.
After 10 minutes, you start to worry. You get out of the car and as you make your way to the bar, you hear some noise by the alley. When you walked there, you saw two men. One was beating the other, and the poor man's body was slowly giving up. “Don’t you dare look at her, she’s mine and no one else’s” a man spoke.
“I just looked her way! Swear I didn’t even know I was looking at her.” “Bullshit.” The poor man fell to the floor. Soon we were met with the tall man. His eyes grew darker by the second. “H-honey?” But it wasn’t him, it was like a demon took his body. You ran towards the car. And drove off. You ran inside the bathroom of your shared home. He walked up to the door.
“I was meant to be yours, r/n can’t you see that? I would do anything to keep you by my side.” But you didn’t open the door.
“R/N!” his bloody hands reached for the handle.
“Open the, open the door please” he begged. You were never this afraid of your husband. He told you about the missions he took part in, but this? This wasn’t who he said he was.
“R/n, open the door” You didn’t respond, your breathing becoming heavy.
“R/n, don’t be afraid please” You looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide in.
“Can we go back to normal?” His voice tempted you.
“R/n, sure, you’re scared, I’ve been there” Was he? He probably killed that man! And for what? Just for staring in your direction.
“I can help, I’m here to keep you safe love.” He warned you he could be very possessive, but you always thought it was just a joke.
“R/n, don’t make me come in there!” Now you started to panic, again.
“S-Simon please go away” you finally answered. You stepped away from the door. He kicked it open. His eyes immediately softened when he met your small frame. “Love, I would never hurt you. M’just afraid you’d hate me.” Your hands shook as you reached for his bloody face. “Why?” You asked, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t know,” he answered melting to your touch.
You grabbed a towel and damped it in some water. “I need to know why.” You tried to sound calm, but considering the events, how could you be this calm. “I was afraid that…well, maybe you’d see how bad of a man I am and leave me for him.” He whispered as your hands started to scrub him clean.
“Never. Just please don’t harm others.” You wanted to run, but you know what he is capable of.
He looks at you, his eyes so big and beautiful. “Please don’t leave, I know what I did was wrong.” His arms snaked around your waist. Does he know I want to run away? You thought. “Please r/n, you are my only one.”
You try your luck and push him off. You run down the hallway. Some glass was laid on the floor. You fall tripping on the carpet and getting back up. But he starts to catch up. He starts to whistle. Blood starts to drip down your now injured leg.
Unfortunate They say such a shame, I turned out this way A maniac Well, yeah I get manic when I cause a panic And of course I'm excited when I see you around
You run to the kitchen and get a knife. You run back into the living room. “Stay away!” More blood starts to drip.
You fall once more, a sinister smirk is plastered on his lips. “Simon? Stay away.”
“I’m not afraid to use this!” The knife not slowly poking your stomach. His eyes widen. “Don’t you dare” his voice still cold.
You’re on your knees, pleading with your eyes as he starts getting closer. Could’ve done a better escape, you thought.
And the red on my face Is matching you And goodness you're bleeding What a wonderful feeling You're down and you're pleading My head is just reeling
You get back up, getting closer to the door. You leave a trail of blood on the floor. He keeps whistling and smiling. “The red on my hands means I love you, darling.”
You leave me high and dry A rush comes to my mind At the drops Of blood you leave behind Run as you might, my love will never, ever Stop
His voice is calm, too calm. He runs to you, taking the knife away from you and throwing it far from you both. His hands travel down to your bleeding leg, in his hands he now has your blood. He licks his finger, “Tasting your blood means I love you, my sweet sweet girl.” He whispers against your ear.
“No, no, no” you plead and cry. What was a good night turned into a nightmare. “Let go of me!” “Never.” He kisses your neck and carries you to your shared bedroom. “What are you going to do to me?”
“My wildest fantasies!” He smiles. “Simon please don’t!”
“You really think I’m a monster r/n?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m just going to clean your wound and put you to bed.”
“What?”
“To bed.”
“What does that mean?”
“Honey I’m taking you to our bed.” His voice is now soft.
Your eyes open, your husband still in his mask, he looked very tired, but a faint smile appeared on his lips. “Fell asleep on the couch again?” He asked as he walked you both to your bedroom. “What happened?” You were more than confused.
He looks down at you in his arms. “Came from work and you kept saying some weird stuff, had a nightmare. M’sure.” He kissed your forehead. “So you didn’t hurt him?”
He is now more confused. “Who’s ‘him’? R/n, it was all a dream, my love. Nothing happened.” He rested you against your pillow and kissed your forehead.
He went to take a quick shower. You looked down to the leg you swore was hurt, but nothing. Your clothes were different. Your hand rested on your swollen belly. You sighed in relief. “It was all a dream.” You said to yourself. Your baby kicked. “Calm down baby.” You rubbed your stomach and closed your eyes again. Simon walked into the room. He gently laid on his side of the bed and turned to you.
“I love you.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb and kissed your lips. “Goodnight.” You’re turned, you’re back now to him. He knew it was your favourite way to sleep, considering you’re pregnant and all.
“Goodnight honey.” He turned the TV on, and lowered the volume. Right before you started to drift to sleep, the news spokesperson started to speak.
“Last night, police officers in Manchester discovered a murder scene. The victim is 34-year-old Jonathan, a resident of Chester. There are no witnesses so if you have any information. Police are now looking for any suspects.”
Your eyes opened wide, but you remained calm. You pretend to sleep, and his hand reach to your back. He rubbed it and before he turned the TV off, he kissed the back of your head.
“Love you so so much.”
A/N: I found this in my drafts, and thought you deserved to read it. Btw, thank you all for being understanding. Give me a while and I promise I’ll fully be back. Bye now!
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belabeya · 1 month
Text
Speaking of klangst-
Trigger warning:
Suicide, death, hints at drugs and/or alcohol.
"Lance, you don't you don't understand!" Keith argued, "nothing has been working!"
"Keith, you can't just do this, please. If not for me, then for shiro? Or Pidge, Hunk, Coran, Allura?"
"Allura," Keith spat. "You expect me to do anything for her when she stole everything from me!?"
"What has she ever stolen from you?!" Plance claimed. Keith looked at Lance, his expression un readable but silent none the less.
"You.." Keith whispered.
"What?"
" I said You! Okay? She stole you from me." He cried, his voice began to crack. "She stole my everything" he whispered. Lance stood stunned at Keith's declaration. Every beat of silence became loud, lance had said nothing, not even a sound. He just stood there as if the idea of Keith linking him in that way was un heard of, like it was impossible. Every second the large drop that was in front of Keith became more tempting. Every second his urge to jump, to get rid of the pain of all these years was getting larger. Everything he tried, the drugs, alcohol, any of it lead to only momentary numbness. Happiness for only a short time. Death though? That was a different story, everything would be gone, finally he would have control, it was like this was the only thing in life he could control and Lance was taking that away from him. Keith heard foot steps shuffling frantically up the stairs to the roof. "What did you do?!" Keith demanded "no, no, you are NOT taking this away from me!" Keith's tears began to fall down his face. A dreaded sense of betrayed looming over him. Lance wanted him to be happy. Right? So why would he take that away?! The footsteps got closer. "Probably shiro, pidge, Hunk and coran, of course not Allura though she hates my guts" Keith thought. A worry filled Lance's eyes. And yet, Keith didn't care...
One step...
Keith lowered his head, "Lance, I love you, I really do." he looked up, seeing the broken and dishevelled Lance one last time, and he jumped.
"NO!" Lance cried, leaping forward, his hand just slipping past Keith and failing to grab on to him. "I love you too..." he said, voice cracking and eyes filling with tears.
"You can join him." Somone said from behind Lance. He turned around quickly.
"Wha-" He began, but no one was there.
"Over here," the voice said, pulling Lance over to the edge, his stomach slamming against the railing borderline winding him. "Tempting, isn't it?" The voice giggled. "Do it, I know you want to. Follow him." The voice whispered in his ear. The ground became tempting, like it was calling him. Lance couldn't believe he was being persuaded to actually do this. And by the air at that. "Oh, I'm not "Air. " I'm the other voice. The one inside your head. The one with the "bad thoughts." But really, is this one "bad?" The voice questioned. "Go on... be with him. Join us."
"I-" Lance began
"They are almost here. Choose now. I think you know what you want..."
"Keith"
"Go on, do it."
"Yeah... I'll see him? Yes?"
"Yes," the voice responded. Lance looked to the stars.
"I'll he there soon Keith... I love you, " he breathed into the night. Slowly, yet hastily, he crawled over the railing in front of him...
"I'm coming, my love..." he whispered. Still looking at the stars, he submitted himself to the ground. Giving in at last.
Killed Lance this time!
@klance-headcanons-official @idoweirdcrap @jvlz-the-unicorn
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