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jjungkooksthighs · 2 years

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Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (13)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: abo/werewolf and fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: The Duels of the Chosen are near. Tensions and desires rise.

Warnings: mentions of breeding, dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, alpha!Taehyung (he’s a bit of a cocky one this one), alpha!Jimin (best friends take after each other ig) sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, LOTS OF TEASING, dirty talk, (blood) marking, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scent marking, scenting, begging, praise kink, breeding/impreg kink, character injury (someone gets hurt, but it isn’t serious), biting (BITE KINK IS STRONG IN THIS ONE)

A/N: Hello again, readers! It's been a few months since chapter twelve was posted, and I know a lot of you have been curious about what happens next. This chapter was one I felt I needed to have in there since, well...we're very near the fight and it'll just be that much more satisfying if that is built up correctly. That is what I hoped to accomplish this chapter, because the next one will FINALLY be the long anticipated fight! Please enjoy this, though. I think some of you will find it to be...entertaining, to say the least. As always, please let me know what you think! Words of affirmation/praise are needed to keep this writer feeling good about their work. :)

Oh, and please appreciate this gif, by the way. This gif single-handedly inspired this entire fic. Mayhaps there is a scene in this chapter where it might have, uh...stimulated something.

Masterlist

“How long are you going to sit perched by the heel of the she-wolf, Jeon?” Yoongi curls his lip in distaste as if the very name blackens his tongue before he jibes, “I grow impatient and weary of this. Let us fight for fuck’s sake.”

One side of your alpha’s mouth lifts upward in a cocksure smirk, his brow arching as his head turns to the side so he can taunt, “All in due time, Min,” he draws out the other wolf’s name slowly as he stands to his full height, the dried paint of blood all over his body a warning sign that darkens dangerously over his form as he turns away from you. “I suggest you watch your tone with me the next time you speak. If not,” his chuckle has even the dirt beneath him shaking, “I can always make you. Do not forget yourself, Yoongi. It is I who holds the battle rights. And it is I alone who will decide when we fight, how we fight, and where we fight. Piss me off enough,” your alpha rolls one shoulder back, his eyes narrowing, “and you will find that my terms will leave you with far more agitation than whatever you think you are dealing with now. Ask Taehyung how he fared when he tested me last.”

Yoongi snorts in answer, but does not say anything more.

You bite your lip at the way your alpha’s muscles flex and jump in the movement as he rolls his other shoulder back. At the show of power between the two wolves and how easily one demanded control over the other.

“You yield to him, Yoongi?” Taehyung cocks his head at the russet-haired wolf, “You fear him? How comical.”

“What I find comical, Taehyung,” Jungkook inspects his nails before making a fist into his other his hand, those fingers curving over it as his bones pop and crack, “Is that you nearly had your arm ripped off in the forest just a few hours ago because you dared to touch the omega. My omega. It is only because of her that all of your limbs are still attached. She will not stop me this time.” He angles his chin to the side, “So do not count your blessings. They won’t serve you. The only thing that will shall be pain.”

“Pain is temporary, Jungkook. Nothing you could do to me will sc-“

“Oh? How about I rip both hands off, Taehyung? Or maybe…maybe I should start with your fingers that you like to fuck not only Jimin’s sister with, but several other omegas with?” Your alpha asks, the barb sharp as talons as his words sink into the smaller wolf while Jimin, from behind Taehyung, stands with his mouth open and disbelief wrinkling the flesh around his eyes. “Do not think that rumors of your,” your alpha scrunches his nose, “activities have not reached me. They have been uttered to all but Jimin himself, who has a misguided loyalty to you when you clearly do not return it,” he clucks his tongue at Taehyung’s scathing scowl, “˙Perhaps you have forgotten, but in my absences here, Namjoon has been acting as my second-in-command. He’s given me all the details on your dealings. Many of which are questionable to say the least.” Disappointment hangs onto his words as he chides. “I have done my best to discipline you, but it looks like you need to learn the hard way what happens when you go against me.”

Taehyung’s mouth opens, closes, and opens again, but no words depart from between his lips.

“Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice is sweet as syrup, yet your own posture goes rigid as ice while the smaller wolf inquires, “is this true? You told me you’d stay away from my sister. You promised me that you’d stay away. And this whole time, you’ve been pursuing the same she-wolf you knew I was tailing for days?”

Your alpha bares his teeth at that, “Of course it is true, Jimin. I have many qualities, but being deceitful has never been one of them. I have never been that way,” he crosses his arms, his biceps bulging at the action and suddenly air is not a kind companion in the way it betrays you at the sight of him in his half-nude glory as he says, “And I never will. I cannot say the same for others, however.”

At your alpha’s words, fury ignites in Taehyung’s eyes. He gives a scorching glare at your alpha and when his lips part this time, his voice comes briskly from between them.

“Jeon, you fucking prick,” he spits, “I’m going to destroy you for this.”

Your alpha hums, “Mmm, not if Jimin gets to you first. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side, boy. If you can make it there, that is. I doubt very seriously you will. You never could beat me in a fight, and we’ve had many. Ah, and one more thing,” Jungkook’s neck cracks when his head rotates to the side, then to the front, the other side, and then the back as he warns, “Refer to me as a prick again,” his eyes promise danger in the way they grow dim, “and you will regret it.”

Taehyung is quiet as a mouse after that.

When Jimin speaks next, the saccharine flavor to his voice is gone. In its place, there is only the burnt remains of hatred as his eyes strafe from Jungkook to Taehyung.

“I will crush the both of you to shit,” he pushes Taehyung, though the other wolf doesn’t budge from where he stands. “I will fuck you up first. For lying to me and going behind my back. And you,” he points to your alpha, his nail elongating into a claw, “I will take your place as Pack Alpha so that no one will be able to lie to me ever again. And I’ll take your little whore while I’m at it. Since it is her kind that want to act like little sluts, I’ll make sure to treat her like one.”

From behind him, you cannot see the way the silvery flecks in your alpha’s eyes become shadowed until they are pitch black as they’d been a few minutes ago. What you can see, however, is the way Jungkook squares his shoulders and digs his feet into the black earth beneath him, his hands balling into fists so tight that his flesh turns snow white.

“That is enough. You’re making me angry. I will not stand to have slander spoken toward my mate. On my command, you shall not speak another word without my permission or I’ll have your tongue for your insubordination. Understand?”

Your alpha’s irises move from Yoongi to Taehyung, and then to Jimin. The trio remain silent. Even if they wanted to say something, they cannot for the same reason that you have not moved a muscle since your alpha ordered you to remain seated before him.

It is referred to as the Alpha’s Bidding.

When an alpha, beta or omega is in the presence of an alpha that overpowers them in strength (or if an alpha, beta, or omega submits and yields to another alpha–whether physically or verbally), that wolf cannot disobey that alpha if said alpha gives them a command. Their wolfly nature will not allow them to disobey the decree of the stronger wolf.

Jungkook did not particularly like to use this on other wolves. It left the wolves he used it on without their own free will or agency against what he asked them to do, so he’d made a pact to use it only in situations where there would be violence if he did not.

He’d only used it a handful of times in his life, for he much preferred to solve problems the way nature intended for it: to battle it out. And he’d never lost a fight.

This time, though… this time his better judgement was being overridden by one thing.

You. He could not bear it to hear such outrageous things be spoken aloud. And it made logic and reason slip like water through his fingers until only his emotion remained. Emotion that made him become aggressive in his need to protect you.

“When this is all over and I have all three of you on the floor panting, bleeding and crying in the dirt beneath my feet, I’ll make you all get on your knees and apologize for your gross misconduct toward my mate.” He makes a sound of consideration and taps at his elbow, “I’ll step on you and break the bones in your jaw if I detect so much as a hint of sarcasm, so you’d better fucking mean it. Do I make myself clear? This time, you can answer.”

All three wolves nod in unison at that one.

Jungkook jerks his chin and gives a dismissive wave of his hand, “Get out of my sight. All of you. Our battle will be held in the clearing in front of the knoll a few paces ahead of us. You are all to wait for me there.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

Taehyung spits onto the ground whilst staring daggers at Jungkook.

Jimin glares holes through Taehyung before glowering at your alpha.

Yoongi is the first to leave. Jimin is next. Taehyung is the last to disappear into the sea of wolves around you, but not before he his lips lilt upward.

You can’t bring yourself to pay attention to anything but the way your alpha’s shoulders rise and fall in uneven, broken intervals.

You wish you could get up and go to him. Maybe it’s your pre-heat fever speaking, but you think you know a few ways to lift his spirits (amongst other parts of him).

He’s still facing away from you and you have half a mind to wonder why your throat has become dry and scratchy when you haven’t even been talking even though you want to.

There are so many things you want to tell him. So many you wish you could say. Though, you suppose you could try speaking to him another way.

You close your eyes and imagine that string that ties you both together. The one that is wound around your muscles, your bones, your very heart itself.

You tug on that cord gently, the warm feeling in your chest that as is bright as the sun when you think of him pushed along that string.

Please turn around, alpha. Look at me, won’t you? I want to see you.

But I’m right here, omega. I’m right in front of you, am I not?

You pout.

I don’t need to turn to know that you’re sticking your cute little bottom lip out right now, you know. While that sight itself is something I would normally fall to my knees for, I need to prepare you for what comes next.

Prepare me? For what?

You hear his dark laugh before the telltale click of a metal latch that must belong to one of the three ornately carved wooden boxes the elders had arranged in a half-moon around your alpha earlier.

You open your eyes, and now he’s hunched over the largest of the square boxes in the middle. Each are the color of sepia, umber and burnt sienna and are held closed by impressive metalwork.

However, you’re entirely engrossed in the show of his shoulder blades that descend and ascend whilst the muscles beneath and around them swell in his ministrations as he works open the intricate latches.

The sight has you licking your lips and your digits twitching in your skirts.

You can’t see what he’s doing, but this view isn’t so bad, now that you think about it. Especially with the handprints that mar his golden back in crimson. Your handprints.

“Admiring your handiwork, omega?” He asks, his attention still set on whatever it is he’s retrieving from the blue, velvet bed of the box (the corner of which you can see peeking from under his knee).

“H-How did you know I opened my eyes?” You stutter, your cheeks heating at being caught red-handed.

“Easy. Your breathing changed.”

You whimper, “Not fair.”

Your alpha peers at you with amusement glinting in one eye and fondness gleaming in the other, the blackness that had swallowed their color melting away so that the silver of his irises streak them.

He lowers himself until he’s crouched again with his knees facing outward and how you managed to miss the way his thighs all but burst from the seams of his trousers the first time he did this is beyond you. You remember how it had felt to sit on them. To ride him on them.

The memories have another slew of slick dripping down your thigh. It takes but a second for the air to carry your scent to your mate.

He inhales deeply through his nose, his head falling back as he does. The sea of his back muscles ebbing as he grips whatever is in his hands with enough force that the veins of his forearms slither up to his elbows.

“Fuck,” the man actually moans, “your scent just got stronger. It’s making me hard for you. Again. Your heat…it will be upon you within the hour,” your mate’s pupils dilate, “and when that time comes, little one, ” he rises and turns on his heel so that the scarlet moonlight spills herself over his strong jawline as he draws in your scent only to release a shaky breath as he promises, “you’ll be whining much louder for me than you ever have before. Ask me why, omega. Come on. Let me hear you.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, the omegas circling you giggling and the alphas standing by your alpha howling.

Unlike before, his irises are not black as the night sky. They are the color of charred metal.

Your heart stutters beneath your bosom as he slowly treads toward you.

He doesn’t use the Alpha’s Bidding on you now as he did a few moments ago, but then, you both know that he doesn’t need to to get what he wants from you.

You’ll submit to him every time without fail. And he relishes in that.

It’s entirely predatory the way he moves. Each step is slow and calculated. Meticulous yet measured.

You really can’t help the fact that your eyeline, as if magnetized, is pulled toward his face. His hair is tussled and twists sinfully around his forehead and cheeks, both of which are accentuated more than usual with your blood lining them like war paint. His lips are parted deliciously and you have a thought to bite them if he gets near enough to you. You think he’d likely groan at that and would glad do anything to hear that delicious sound right about now.

His neck, lined with stripes and strokes of scarlet, taunts you and you have to swallow when his Adam’s apple bobs lewdly beneath his skin, your own gums tingling as your canines push against them when his mastoid pulses energetically at your attention.

You let your vision trail downward before your fangs can protract.

Your etchings of blood all over his chest seem to have held and you pull your lip between your teeth at the way your marks curve around and along his abdominals in a patchwork of muscle and flesh.

“Much as I love having you ogle me, I asked you a question, pretty. I require a response from you. Now.” His shadow falls over you and, seated before him as you are, he towers above you so much so that you have to lift your chin just to look at him as he crooks his head to the side to husk lowly, “I’m going to say this one more time, love,” he leans over you, those silver orbs of his spilling like moonlight from your eyes to your mouth, “Ask me why you’re going to whine for me. Why you’re going to whimper for me,” he takes your chin between his fingers so that you have nowhere to look but him as his voice deepens, “and why you won’t be able to stop singing for me once your heat comes.”

He's got you wrapped around his fingers. Literally.

And you can do little but suspire in answer. “Why, alpha?”

His long digits grasp you tighter as he leans in until his lips are suspended but a hair above yours.

When he does respond, his words are all but swallowed by your own lips that you readily part for him.

“Because you will want to breed, little one. All you will be able to think about, my little vixen, is how much you need to be filled,” he offers and, bent over you as he is, a strand of saliva collects onto his pink tongue until the pool of it runs over his lip and down onto yours. The crimson moonlight stains it red as blood as he chuckles deliciously, the sound guiding your thighs together once more as he flicks a brow, “and I will make sure you get so much of my spit,” he makes a sound in the back of his throat and his thumb hooks over your bottom lip to urge it apart farther only for him to hoick a ball of spittle into your waiting mouth, “so much of my cum,” his thumb departs between your lips to press down over your tongue, your joined dribble sloshing around his digit and then the four fingers he’s left on your chin are coaxing your mouth closed around his thumb as his eyes flash tellingly, “and so much of my cock that you’ll be dripping because of how much I’m going to pound into this mouth, this ass, and that pussy of yours.”

Your sex clenches around nothing. Hard.

You swirl your tongue around his finger and suck, your hormones demanding you to keep your alpha close. By whatever means necessary.

Nothing matters but him. You’ll do anything for him. Everything for him.

You can feel yourself slipping as the seconds go by, your need for him replacing any other cogitation of relevance.

“Gods, look at you. It has already begun.” He curses when you hollow your cheeks in the manner he’d told you to when you’d first had him in your mouth. “You could only be silenced from the cries you’ve been making nonstop for the last few minutes by using my fingers. Do you know what this means I have to do to you, little one?”

So that’s why your throat had felt scratchy. You don’t think about that for too long, though. There are more important things to give attention to.

Like your alpha.

With your mouth stuffed as it is, you don’t know how you can possibly give an answer he’d understand, but somehow, you manage, “Nnnno. Wwwhat doooes ittt meannn?”

Your alpha arcs his thumb, his nail biting into the soft pad of your tongue as he utters, “It means, my love,” his nail sharpens and lengthens just enough to prick you, “that I cannot leave your side until I’ve bound you. Even Alpha’s Bidding may not be strong enough to hold you away from me. You will try to chase me unless, of course, I chain you up so you cannot. Perhaps, to satisfy your wolf, I leave another mark on you. One you cannot ignore while you sit here and watch me make those boys bleed for you.”

There’s a heated, searing sensation on your tongue, but it isn’t painful. So sharp is his nail that you’d felt no pain, just as you had not when he’d entered you with his teeth.

“Open, omega. Open for me.” He orders.

You do as he says without question as he withdraws his thumb, the impulse to satisfy him overriding any other thought you could have.

Each inch of him that departs you has you whining once more, but your alpha is quick to whisper, “Even now, you can hardly bear to lose even an inch of me. Tell me,” he tugs his finger free with a wet pop from your mouth only and you both watch the thick bead of blood–your blood– fall down, down and down his finger and, with your attention fixed on him, he brings his newly freed hand before his own mouth, “what do you wish you could do to me right now?”

You sigh breathily as you look up at him, your mouth chasing his as he starts to straighten once more.

“I-I,” you stammer when he drags the tip of his thumb across his bottom lip to leave a smeared trail of red. “I…y-you.”

Your alpha rotates his hand so that the underside of his bloody thumb swipes over his upper lip before his fingers fall away and he arches his middle and index fingers inward in a come-hither motion.

“You shall have me, my omega. Anything you desire, if it is within my power to give you, will be yours.” He kneels before you. ”You know that.”

Like this, he’s level with you. Like this, you can lean forward and-

“What is it you want, omega?” He questions.

“Kiss me, alpha,” you whine. “W-when you mark me this time…I want you to use your mouth to do it.”

His blood-lined lips rise at that. “As you wish, my omega.”

One of his hands slips into your hair along the side of your face and then he’s slotting his mouth over yours, and then, finally, he fits his mouth against yours. He groans into it, which only has you moaning in tandem. He’s gentle, but possessive in the way that no part of your lips is not claimed by him.

You taste the tang of iron and want more. More of him. So, you take his full, plump upper lip between your teeth and tug experimentally.

You feel him smirking before you see it.

“You want it rough, my love? Fine. I’ll bite you hard enough that you’ll still taste this kiss when I’m away from you,” he decides.

He’s got your bottom lip between his teeth within seconds and then they are sinking down into the soft flesh beneath them hard enough to draw blood. Hot pain, delicious pain seeps through the afflicted area and the wet sound he makes as he licks at it has your thighs rubbing against each other for the umpteenth time.

So distracted by him, by this, that you don’t notice the movement of the arm he’d kept behind his back since treading away from the wooden boxes he’d made for you. For this purpose.

You’re far too swept in by the ebb and flow of his lips as he kisses you. Over and over again.

You hardly notice the pressure that is beginning to build at the forefront of your skull, or how your temples begin to ache, or how your vision starts to become hazy.

And when he pulls away panting, beads of iron linger in your mouth where liquid crimson dribbles from the corners of his.

You’re filled with an urge to lick it off of him.

Breathless yourself, you reach for him, but your ligament is heavy and hard to move in the slowed pacing of your blood in reaching it.

He catches your wrist, “You will have to pardon my brashness, omega, but I had to,” he breathes heavily, “I’m losing control over myself.”

“What?” You cock your head confusedly, but the motion has your head swimming with fuzziness.

The aching, the pressure and haziness worsen now that his lips are not there to distract you.

There was only one thing that could bring such symptoms so suddenly. Only one thing that could weaken a werewolf.

Your alpha guides your apprehended wrist to your forehead, your fingers tracing along the circlet of silver he must have adorned you with while you’d been caught between his perfect lips moments ago.

You don’t know what it looks like, but from what you can feel, there are thick interwoven filaments crossing over each other like vines. And in the middle of it, between your brows, your fingers run along the smooth face of a gemstone cut like a leaf.

Just like the tracings he’d left in blood all over you.

Long before he’d ever painted you in his design, he’d crafted you into his life. Even if it was just in silver.

Silver that would have sapped at his strength–both in mind and body–and sickened him every time he touched it.

And he’d done that for you.

Heat burns at the edge of your eyes and then your vision is becoming even hazier because of the tears as you try, “Jungkook…how long ago?”

The braided, plaited metal makes everything from your senses to your thoughts murky, but you try to fish some semblance of a sentence out. You have to. You need to know.

He catches the tear that escapes its place along your ducts before it makes it even halfway down your face as he finishes for you, “How long ago did you make this?”

You nod.

With gold peeking through the silver of his irises, he lays one hand over your knee and lowers his head to each of them and the act of deference has your heart panging in your chest as he admits, “My father taught me many things, but I think the trade of blacksmithing was one of the more useful ones. I was always eager to learn new things, but after I first saw you in the forest,” he presses his lips to your clothed knee, “I took to blacksmithing and practiced day in and day out until I could make something I felt would be worthy of you. I burnt my hands sometimes, and others, I accidentally cut myself, but I got the hang of it pretty quick.”

“That,” you attempt to find words through the fog in your head that the silver ringing it is making difficult locating. “that was long time. Ago.” You add with a sniffle and your alpha turns his head so that one cheek rests on your knee. This time, when another tear collects into a droplet, your eyelashes catch it and it clings to them for a second before it rains down over your lover’s exposed cheek.

He smiles adoringly up at you.

“Yes, my omega. But I’ve loved you for far longer than that.”

Trying to form coherent thought, with the silver circling your head, is like trying to find something you’ve lost in a cloudy mist.

But even that cannot disperse the solid emotions that have long settled in you.

“I…I love…you,” you get out, the hot tears streaming down your cheeks now, Want to,” you swallow, “Want to mark. To show you.”

His head departs from your legs and he considers you for a moment.

“Do what you must, my love, “his eyes softening as he gives you permission,” though, I cannot guarantee I won’t have to shackle you with more silver. What little control I have left is soon to snap because of how you beckon me so,” he brings his face closer to yours only to leave a featherlight kiss under each of your eyes and you can’t help it when you whine for more, “with how you beg for me so.” Something wet, long and soft brushes against your cheek only for it to go upwards in a stripe as he licks at the tears along your cheekbone and you’re quivering in an instant.

When he pulls away, his mouth is painted with your tears and blood.

Your wolf yowls, deep within you, and she wants to give him more.

“Alpha,” you call,” Bite. Bite me.”

Your alpha doesn’t question you. Understanding passes over his features, and then he’s smirking knowingly.

With the fingers he still has wrapped around your wrist, he turns your hand over so that your palm is brought to his lips.

Silver irises flash back up to you.

“There, alpha,” you breathe while he rubs his mouth along the side of your hand, his sight tangling deeper with yours all the while.

He parts his mouth, and before you, his canines lengthen until they reach his lower lip.

You do not wince when those teeth pierce your soft, pliable flesh.

He’d made them sharp enough that it would bring you no pain.

He sucks you between those beautiful lips of his, and you moan.

You don’t give a damn about anything except for him.

He stays there for how long, you don’t know, but even the moon becomes shy and has the clouds cover her from the sight of on his knees for you–both emotionally and physically– as he is.

He’s deliberate when he pushes his fangs deeper into your skin and groans, the sensation and vibrations from his throat sending a shudder through your shoulders.

The implications of the action are as loud as the sound of need you make when he detaches from you, his teeth tinged with your scarlet tears.

“Please, alpha.” They are the only words that reach your addled, jumbled mind now.

“I know, my love,” neither of you look at the rising pool of crimson that flows forth from the two large puncture wounds he’d left on you. Your attentions are entirely too fixed on each other for that. “I know exactly what you want.”

He is slow, unhurried in how he places your wounded hand over one of his cheeks and then drags it, steadily, along. A trail of crimson treads from his skin and then over his mouth, a gasp falling from your lips when he laps at you.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re shaking. And begging.

Only then does he draw your bleeding hand over and across the other side of his maw.

“Does this please you, omega?” He grins, “To know that I’ll have you spread all over my tongue and my body? Or perhaps you wish there was something else you could smear me and my mouth with, hmm?”

He looks like a crazed, wild creature. And it’s hot as fuck.

It just makes you want to jump him even more.

Desire writhes within you. Your thighs instinctively try to seek each other, but the silver shining on your head makes your movements sluggish in a type of lethargy that has settled over your muscles.

You whine again.

Your alpha laughs.

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amphibiousmercurial · 1 month

Text

The words he never wrote about me

Of loneliness, deaths and Old age

There’s a starkness to the memory of him lying in that hospital bed, motionless, that digs at me. A starkness in the cold, antiseptic smell of the room that's hard to forget, an image that keeps replaying whenever I close my eyes. It was more than just saying goodbye—it was a preview of mortality, served cold and unadorned. The last time I saw him, there was no hint of the person who had lived so vibrantly. Just a shell, a reminder of how quickly everything can end. That shit is terrifying, not peaceful or contemplative—just raw, unfiltered fear.

Then came the wake, and with it, the letter. My aunt's voice carried across the room, reciting his thoughts and memories—a roll call of everyone who touched his life. Friends, neighbors, even the house help were honored for their dedication. But me? There was nothing. Silence where my name should have been. It felt like being invisible in a crowded room, unheard amid the chatter. He recounted everyday trivialities, yet completely omitted his own granddaughter. As she continued, a cold realization settled in my stomach: in the vast narrative of his life, I was merely an oversight, an empty space he inadvertently skipped over. It wasn't intentional, but that almost made it worse. The inadvertent omission cut deep, a stark, raw pain that echoed with the silence of my unspoken name.

The next day, my aunt lost it—her grief manifesting in a spectacular meltdown that turned into a twisted family spectacle. Plates smashed, voices raised. Grief, I’ve learned, isn’t pretty. It’s not solemn or dignified; it’s messy, it’s loud, it’s desperately human. Her breakdown, obnoxious as it felt, was just another expression of pain, another way to lash out at the world that ripped him from us. It showed me that there’s no right way to deal with the void someone leaves behind. It’s all just clawing at whatever can keep us above the surface.

And then there’s my grandmother. Every day, she sits by the window, staring out at a world she seems less and less a part of. There’s a loneliness to her silhouette that’s crushing. To think of her and my granddad, partners for over sixty years, and now she’s just... alone. Watching her is a gut punch, a brutal reminder that sometimes love isn’t enough to stave off the solitude that creeps in with old age. It’s not just sad; it’s terrifying. To see how easily a life shared can turn into solitary confinement—how can I not question everything I know about love and companionship? It makes me wonder about the futility of it all, about the inevitable decay of connections we hold dear.

This isn’t comforting. It doesn’t bring me peace. It scares the hell out of me. I'm left questioning the very fabric of relationships- what's the point if it can all evaporate, leaving one half alone to stare out a window? It makes the certainties of life feel like a farce.

Grief is a guillotine, sharp and final, hope is chronic bleeding, never clotting, always flowing.

So here I am, not finding solace in soft words or silver linings, but facing the raw, brutal truths head-on. Sometimes, we are forgotten, and it's not a gentle nudge but a slap. We scream into the void, not because we hope for an answer but because it's all we can do. I’m not writing this to tie it up with a neat bow, to say it's all part of a bigger plan or that there's a lesson to be learned. I'm writing because it hurts, because it's unfair, and because, despite everything, this is the only way I know how to make sense of the chaos.

Being overlooked in his final words doesn't bring me quiet dignity. It brings anger, confusion, and a deep, lingering pain. And I'm here, raw and unguarded, owning that pain, because it's mine, and it's real. And maybe, just maybe, by laying it all out, I can start to rise above these remnants of grief that are stuck in my throat.

To be left out of the story is to understand that we are all authors of our own, that we write not for the eyes of others, but for the sanctity of our souls.

Love.

#my blog #writeblr #dark academia #light academia #aesthetic #poets on tumblr #artists on tumblr #literature #writers on tumblr #essay #lonliness #love #heartbreaking 💔#letters

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celestiall0tus · 2 months

Text

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 28 - Root

Beginning || Previous || Next

Alix stirred from a deep sleep. She groaned as a minor ache pierced her head. She shook her head as she sat up. She glanced around the empty room and saw Adrien on the couch with their kwamis, watching her.

“You don’t need to watch over me. I’m alive.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

“Right. Yesterday was… an eye opener.”

“Are you ready to talk?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No, but I figured I’d give the option. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Chloe’s prepared a private lunch in the restaurant for us and a few others.”

Alix took a deep breath before she followed Adrien. They stepped into the restaurant and saw Alim, Jalil, Rose, Mylene, and Ivan sitting at a table. Chloe stood off to the side with Sabrina beside her. Alix hesitated until Adrien took her hand and led her to the table where they took their seats. Alim turned as Alix took her seat, stood up, and hugged her.

“Oh, Alix! I’m relieved to see you awake. Are you alright? How are you feeling? What happened?” Alim asked.

“I… I’ll explain everything,” Alix muttered.

“You better! You had us worried sick!” Rose yelled.

“Yeah. We thought you died,” Ivan added.

“I… I kinda did,” Alix admitted.

Everyone gasped in horror while Jalil’s eyes lit up.

“What was it like? What did you see? Was there an afterlife?” Jalil asked.

“Jalil, not now,” Alim hissed.

“Ok. Ok.”

“Now then, Alix, what happened? What sent you over the edge?” Alim asked.

Alix sighed. “I saw Nathaniel hurt someone and got angry. I stormed in and threw him into the fountain. When I did, I saw flashes of the past. Of what I did to Chloe, and it scared me. And I… I ran. I slipped. I let myself become that monster again and feared it would return to hurt others. When Nathaniel found me when he was Evillustrator, I just… let go.”

Alim’s face fell. “Let go? Alix, you don’t mean…?”

“I… I did. Even when Evillustrator threw me into the cold water, I didn’t fight it. I… I accepted it and my… my end. Even when Hawkmoth tried to promise me the chance to see my mom, I didn’t accept it. I… I told him I’d see her soon in death. And I did.”

“What?” everyone yelled.

“I saw her along a long road. I ran to embrace her, but she didn’t share my joy. I hoped to see her excited to see me, but she was sad… and disappointed. She turned away from me despite my pleas and vanished. That was when Gallic Chick brought me back. And I… I really messed up, Dad. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Alim took a shaky breath as he pulled Alix close to him. A solemn silence fell over the table as Alix broke down in tears. Adrien and Jalil stood and joined in the embrace.

“It’s ok, Alix. We’re here. You aren’t alone,” Jalil said.

“We don’t blame you for what happened. It’s ok,” Adrien added.

“You should. It’s all my fault. I stopped fighting. I gave up. I almost left all of you just like my mom abandoned me,” Alix sobbed.

“Alix, honey, she didn’t abandon you,” Alim whispered.

“I know, but it doesn’t feel that way. It never has. I know she was sick. I know she was going to die, but it still feels like she left me. That she abandoned me. My mom, that guiding light, my everything, and she left me alone. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind myself that she loved me, that she wanted to stay, I can never convince myself that she didn’t abandon me.”

“Alix?” Mylene whispered.

Alix turned and looked at Mylene and Chloe with blurry, tear-filled eyes. They each extended a hand to Alix. Alix sniffled and took their hands as they pulled her into a hug.

“You’re not alone, Alix. My mother abandoned me too. She left me and Dad when I was young, so I don’t remember much about her except the lullabies that I miss everyday and her enrapturing stories that stole me away to a whole other world,” Mylene confided.

“And my mother left me too. Daddy said she left shortly after I was born but came back only to leave when I was six. I still remember that day. Her with her suitcase, heading off, and leaving me and Daddy behind,” Chloe whispered.

Alix’s eyes widened as she stared ahead. She processed Mylene and Chloe’s confessions before she returned their embrace.

“My mother was my everything. The person I am is the person she was. I wanted nothing more than to be her because she was strong, brave, and bold. I thought her invincible, until she got sick. I watched the woman that was untouchable fade away until a corpse was all that was left. I know she never chose to be sick, never chose to wither away, but it still feels like she left me all alone without her light to guide me,” Alix admitted.

“I can relate. Dad does his best, I know he does, but it’s not the same. I don’t get the same comfort I did with Mom. I try not to think about it most days, but her absence is always there in the back of my mind. It’s paired with the hope that she’ll come back, even when I know she never will,” Mylene confided.

“I never had what you two did, but it never stopped me from trying. Even now, I try to be like Mother in hopes that she’ll love me and come home. It’s foolish, but I just want her in my life. I want her to love me as much as she loves her job, but I know it’ll never happen,” Chloe confessed.

Alix, Chloe, and Mylene fell to their knees as they remained in their embrace. Everyone else watched in silence as the group cried and found comfort in each other until Mylene lifted her head.

“Alix, and Chloe, let’s make a promise here between the three of us. Let us be the best versions of ourselves that we can be. Not what our mothers would have wanted, not who they were and are, but as ourselves. Let us find new experiences, no matter how painful and scary they may be. And let’s always have each other to fall back on. We don’t have to be alone anymore. We can have each other,” Mylene offered.

“I don’t know, Mylene. I’ve tried for so long to be something without her guiding me. All it got me was anger, and a monster I can’t escape from, just like her. I can’t be more than what she was,” Alix whispered.

“That’s because you were alone, Alix. Even when you had people with you, you were alone, but not anymore. I see you, and I’m here. We all are, but there’s an understanding that only you, Chloe, and myself can understand. Even if you shut us out, you’ll never be alone again moving forward. So, why don’t we all move forward together?”

Mylene stood and offered her hands to Chloe and Alix. They exchanged hesitant glances, then looked up at Mylene.

“I’m not sure. I agree with Alix. I don’t know how to be more than what I’ve become. Even if I did, I don’t think I could be happy being something I’m not,” Chloe remarked.

“Yeah. And let’s not forget how everyone else feels about us. I’m just a raging bitch with no time or patience, and Chloe is just a bitch. Even if we change, what’s the point if no one else wants to bother with us after everything we’ve done?” Alix challenged.

“Because it’s not about what other people want you to be, but who you want to be. Even if the world doesn’t accept you, you’ll find people that do. It’s those people you want to keep close. Just as your mother and I did,” Alim said.

“Yeah! You don’t need others that’ll force you to be something that makes them happy. You just need people like all of us here. We’ll always accept you as you are. Both of you,” Adrien added.

“I agree! I think you’re both amazing in your own ways. You’re both tough, no-nonsense ladies, and there’s a lot to admire in that. Even when you’re being rude and crass,” Rose added.

“Even through all that, there are sweet sides to you. I, uh, can’t say for you, Chloe, but I’ve seen Alix’s sweet side. It’s not what you’d expect of Rose or Mylene, but Alix shows it in her own way,” Ivan added.

“And we’re here, for both of you. I’m here for both of you. Even if you refuse, you’re stuck with me,” Mylene said with a wink.

Alix blinked several times before a smile spread on her face. She grabbed Mylene’s hand and got to her feet.

“Alright, Mylene, we’ll see where this goes. Cross me though, and you’ll get the Marinette and Alya treatment,” Alix warned.

“I do care for Marinette and Alya, but I do have to admit the pair can be a little…,” Mylene started.

“Self-absorbed and ignorant?” Sabrina butted in.

“Those are… words. I would have sooner said stubborn and well-meaning, but I suppose those work too.”

“Mademoiselle Bourgeois? Lunch has been prepared,” the head chef announced.

Chloe glanced over and hopped to her feet. “Alright, everyone, take your seats. Enough of this mushy nonsense. Today, we feast!”

On Chloe’s word, a banquet was laid out before everyone. She soaked up the awe as she raised a glass for a toast.

“I declare this feast in honor of-,” Chloe started.

“Of moving on from the past, and into the future,” Mylene butted in.

“Hey! I was-!” Chloe attempted.

“Oh! For new friendships and love!” Rose added.

“I-!” Chloe tried again.

“To letting the past go and moving on from the burdens of it. And to hope of a better future, together,” Alix declared.

Chloe blinked, then smiled softly. “Yeah. To letting go of the old and making something new.”

Everyone cheered and toasted, then dug into the feast.

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#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb fanfic #bloody bug au #mylene haprele #chloe bourgeois #alix kubdel

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an-angel-in-the-garden · 2 years

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Hiya, mun! Can i ask for some angst for Alucard regarding his nightmares and how he deals with them and how he'd react to his darling being there for him when it happens?

We love angst and fluff in this household. CW: Nightmare, Gore and Death mentioned

Nightmares are sadly a very common thing for Alucard and has been for many years

It’s something that for the most part he’s gotten use to and unless its a more realistic one he tends to just shrug it off after it happens

A new development in his nightmares began once you came into his life and with it came a fear he hasn't felt in a long time

His nightmares change almost every time but they always follow the same pattern parts of his memories replay alongside things his worst fears both old and new

One’s he’s killed and maimed still hunting him after years past or the times in which he was forced to be the monster everyone called him they come and go in many forms

Newer ones however involve you and the hellsing organization though it's not something he plans to say he cares for Seras and Integra so the thought of losing them does hurt after all this time

Then there's you his little rabbit, his darling lover someone who became the most important person to him so easily the nightmares of you are some of the strongest

It could be almost anything you being taken away your death at both the hands of his enemies and by his own doing but one of the worst and the one you first see is one of you leaving him

Comforting him for a nightmare is a hard balance other then the first night anytime he has one should be handled with a bit more care

Call out to him first show him you're there and that you want to help but understand he might not want that help

Sometime the best way to give him comfort is to just give him space the nightmare of his life from years ago make him want to be alone but other times he just needs you so ask

When he’s with you it feels less suffocating and the feeling of love you give him so happily leaves him breathless

No matter what though whether he leaves or seeks you out after a nightmare you will always be a way he grounds himself afterwards and he’ll always be happy to know you’re there for him

It seemed like any normal day at the Hellsing manor and yet for once that was off putting nothing had happened yet you seems so worried “ Alucard can we talk” “ Of course darling is something wrong” Why did you look so scared what happened “ I want to break up, I want to leave I can't do this anymore” What…No no why now what went wrong “ Why my dear” Don't call me that! I can't deal with this anymore. I can't pretend you aren't a monster anymore!’

So that was it. That's how it ends. You finally saw what he was and just couldn't handle it. He knew it would happen one day but what changed. Still he can't, he won't stop you so instead he just watches you go knowing he’ll never get you back. He wakes with a jolt sitting up and taking a deep breath the moon is out and you lay beside him arms wrapped around his waist

He doesn't notice it but he’s shaking and those slight trembles wake you “ Alucard what's wrong” Your voice is so soft right now “ It’s nothing my love but I need to get up now” When he starts to move you can see his face his lips are curved down his eyes seem glassy and he’s still trembling so you sit up and pull him against your chest petting his hair and whispering soft words of comfort until he stops shaking some and from there he doesn't feel the need to hide that fear

And done! I hope you enjoyed thank you for reading and requesting my update will be out tomorrow so please keep an eye out for it! I am really excited as my next ask is for Dandelion wishes brought to you! ~ Lilly

#reader x #reader imagine #x reader #reader insert #hellsing imagines #hellsing x reader #alucard imagine #alucard x reader

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ourtearsofrain · 4 months

Text

Chapter 9- The Indigo Streak That Becomes the Eye

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: little over 1.8 k

Warnings: descriptions of the outcome of torture (not too explicit), cleaning severe wounds

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You kneel by his side, reaching out to his back before stopping yourself. You bring your hand to his neck, desperately searching for a pulse. Finding it, you breathe a sigh of relief. His pulse was weak, but still there.

“Samuel.” You whisper. “Samuel, please wake up.”

You bend over, your forehead coming to a rest on the side of his head as you sob. You hear someone enter the room but don’t look over. Metal scrapes against the stone floor and the footsteps leave again before you look up. On the floor by the cell door are two small platters, each holding a piece of bread and a small metal cup of water.

An idea pops into your mind before you rip the rest of Samuels shirt, opening the back of it up completely. You grab one of the cups, returning to his side. You take a deep breath before you pour its contents over the mangled skin of his back. He hisses, his eyes barely opening as he frantically looks for you. He turns slightly, a broken cry leaving his mouth as pain claws at his back.

“It’s ok- I’m here, Samuel. Don’t try to move, please.”

He only sobs as you tear the sleeve of your shirt off, using the fabric to begin to gently dab at his skin. He cries out at the contact, sending more tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I know- I know it hurts, Samuel. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry but I have to do this, we have to clean it.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet and raspy, his throat sore from his cries. “Just do it, please get it over with.”

You wet the fabric with the remaining water left in the cup, once again gently dabbing his back as he winces. Once you’re satisfied enough, you place the fabric on the platter next to the stale piece of bread.

“I know it hurts, I know it hurts so much, but I need you to move a little. Just to get you more comfortable.”

He nods weakly, and you grasp his forearms as you help half drag him closer to the wall. You sit with your back against it, pulling Samuel towards you until he can rest his head on your thigh. He lets out a deep sigh, his eyes closing as he gets as comfortable as he can.

“Hey, you need to rest but- but you have to promise to stay with me. I can’t do this alone, Samuel. Please.”

Once again, he offers a weak nod, this time against your thigh. One of your hands finds his as the other comes to rest on his head, gently brushing through his tangled mess of hair.

“Stay with me, Samuel. Stay with me.”

You sit in silence for what feels like days, the sun setting and rising again through the small cell window the only clue to you of how much time had really passed. You don’t sleep, fearing that the next time you opened your eyes, Samuel would be dead. Each time he moves slightly in his sleep, wincing at the pain, you breathe a small sigh of relief. He was still alive. In excruciating pain, but still alive.

As the sun signals to you that it is midday, a man enters the room, two metal platters in his hands. He slides them into the cell next to the others that still sat mostly untouched. He looks at you, a hint of sadness on his face as he stands on the other side of the bars. You look back at him, surveying his face, sensing something familiar. Finally, recognition hits you, knocking the air from your lungs. You knew this man, he had been part of your father’s crew, one of his closest friends. He had been family to you growing up.

“Vail?” The name is a whisper, hoping that if you were wrong about who he was, he wouldn’t hear it.

He nods slightly. “Been a long time, kid.”

You move to stand, to rush towards him as far as your chains would allow you but stop yourself, not wanting to disturb Samuel beneath you.

“Vail please.” You say tearfully. “Please help us.”

“I can’t, I’m so sorry. Helena has this room surrounded. I could never get the two of you out unnoticed, especially with the state your friend is in.”

“Please, anything.” You sob out. “Medicine, a dagger, anything.”

He sighs deeply, stealing a glance at the door behind him quickly. He reaches through the bars, grabbing the empty cup you had used to clean Samuels wounds with.

“I’ll be back.” is all he says before he leaves you once more.

You wait with Samuel, still holding his hand as you lightly stroke his hair. Vail eventually returns, cup in hand. He sets it within the bars, quickly taking a step back as he nervously eyes the door.

“More water?” you say, confusion thick in your tone.

“Give it a whiff, kid. I’m sorry, it’s the best I can do.” With that, he leaves just as fast as he had come in, leaving you and Samuel alone once more.

You ease Samuel off your leg, gently lowering his cheek to the stone floor as he scowls weakly in his sleep. Making your way over to the cup, you pick it up and bring it to your nose. The intense scent of pure alcohol immediately burns your eyes and throat. Your confusion only lasts for a second before you whip your head back to Samuel.

You rush over to him, placing a hand on his bicep and lightly shaking him.

“Samuel. Samuel wake up.”

“Hm?” He cracks his eyes open.

“I know one of Helena’s men. He was friends with my father growing up. He got me something to help.”

Samuel raises his head slightly, and you hold the cup out to him. The second he smells it, he begins to reach out for it.

“Good. Something to ease the pain.”

You move the cup out of his grasp. “No. If you’re going to drink anything, it’s going to be water.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Then what the hell is the point of that?”

You offer him a sympathetic gaze, saying nothing as the wheels turn in his head.

“Oh. Fuck.”

“We have to, if it gets infected, I have nothing else to treat it with. You’ll die.”

He props himself up on his elbows, and you hand him the fabric you had ripped from your shirt, something to bite down on. He takes it, placing it between his teeth before nodding to you. Your hand not holding the cup finds his, taking it in your own as you begin to pour the liquid onto his wounds.

Pain shoots through your hand as he grips it, squeezing his eyes shut, his scream muffled by the fabric in his mouth. You empty only half the cup onto his back, pouring a small amount onto his arm and wrists as well, wanting to save the rest for later if needed.

Samuel spits the fabric out, breathing hard as his tears fall onto the floor beneath you.

“Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me help.” He does, and you gently turn him to his side, helping him cross his legs beneath him as you push him upright.

His hands grip your shoulders as he adjusts to the new position, his back burning with a pain he had never felt before. You ease him out of his ruined shirt, placing it on the floor beside you before you grab the ripped fabric of your shirt sleeve. You tie it around the gash on his arm gently, finding his shirt once more as you move to kneel behind him. You fold it carefully, wanting what little fabric you had to cover as much as it could. Without saying a word, you press the fabric to his skin, drawing a cry of pain from Samuels lips. You tie the arms of his shirt around his stomach before making your way over to the platters still by the cell door.

You take two of them, sitting back down in front of Samuel hunched over on the floor. Bringing one of the cups up to his lips, you nudge him into a more upright position.

“Lean your head back a little.”

He glares at you, snatching the cup from your hands. “I’m not an invalid. I can do it myself.”

His words sting, but you say nothing as he tries to bring the cup to his lips on his own. He winces, immediately dropping his arm as his shoulder blade catches a deep gash on his upper back.

“I’m sorry. Can you please help me?” he asks quietly, shame in his voice from his treatment of you as well as not being able to take care of his own basic needs.

“It’s ok, Samuel.” you say as you take the cup from his hands, bringing it to his lips and helping him tilt his head back enough to drink some of the water.

You reach for a small piece of bread, ripping it into smaller pieces as you offer it to him. He takes it, bringing it to his mouth slowly.

“I should be ok. You need to eat, too.”

Seeing that he was managing alright on his own, you silently hand him the platter with the rest of his bread on it before grabbing your own. You try not to drink all the water in your cup, wanting to save some as you didn’t know when they would send food and water in again. You repeat the process you had done with Samuel’s bread to your own, chewing each ripped up stale piece thoroughly as you sit in silence.

You both eventually finish, pushing the empty platters and cups across the floor until they sit on the other side of the bars.

“Do you want to lay back down?” you ask quietly.

“No, that was killing my neck.” He winces as he slowly brings a hand up to rub at his sore neck muscles. “It’s fine, I can sit against the wall.”

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. “We don’t know what’s been on those walls, we can’t risk infection.”

You open your legs slightly, raising your arms to offer him a seat in between your legs, his back against your chest.

He looks at the wall, next to you. “Fine.” Is all he says before he crawls over, sitting on the stone as he leans back into you, wincing at the contact. You drop your arms, and they come to a rest across his chest as he leans his head back against your shoulder.

“I’m glad I’m locked in here with you, Polaris.” He whispers before glancing over at you. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Of course, Samuel. We have to take care of each other in here.”

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A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak

#greta van fleet #gvf fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam gvf #jake kiszka x reader #pirates #pirate jake kiszka

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shadyruinskryptonite · 6 months

Text

Titan Bending Chapter 10

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Chapter Warnings: Killing, violence, guns, swords, bombs

WC: 3442

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa

The next day was filled with anxiety between trying to lay low and avoid detection by the MPs, trying to learn who we could trust, and not knowing what was happening with Erwin and Hange on the inside. Not to mention, it still felt like we were no closer to finding out where Eren and Historia are.

As night fell, it seemed like we were going to go to bed tonight having made no progress. Levi was using some…enhanced interrogation techniques on the member of the Interior Police that we captured, but it seemed that even he didn’t know much. But, finally, we got the break we had all been waiting for.

In the distance, two cloaked figures approach. At first we were all poised and ready to strike, but thankfully it turned out to be Hange and Moblit with a newspaper article detailing everything - including the fact that the Scouts were no longer outlaws.

The kids scream and jump and dance with joy and I can’t help myself but to throw my arms around Hange in a massive hug. A hug that she returns without a second thought.

Wow, I think I forgot what it’s like to hug someone.

As everyone seems to celebrate around us, Levi approaches and says, “looks like Erwin’s gamble payed off.” It isn’t hard to tell that there’s still something bothering him, though.

Hange responds, “that it did, but it wasn’t just Erwin that gambled. Many people had to make a lot of hard choices for this to work.”

“Whereas my choices got three of your people killed. I’m sorry.” When Levi says this, it only just now dawns on me how much this must have been effecting him. I can see from my vantage point that he and Hange exchange a look that seems to carry more weight than spoken words ever could.

Wow, they must actually be really good friends. There’s a lot of love in the forgiveness that she just conveyed to him. I love the kids, but I hope I can be on that level with them one day. Even Levi, I think.

Ever the voice of reason, Levi interrupts the soft moment that I’m having alone in my head by saying “here’s the thing: the Interiors may have lost but not all of them know it. They still have Eren, and Historia, too. We need to find them quickly.”

Hange holds up a book as she says, “Right, I think I know where they might be. Let’s get there, and put an end to this fight!”

The air is buzzing with a renewed sense of purpose, and for perhaps the first time I genuinely feel proud to be a part of this organization. Since we’re no longer outlaws, we can finally travel by horse and cart again.

As I climb into the cart with Hange, Levi, and Mikasa I hear snickers behind me. I turn to see Connie, Jean, and Sasha laughing together and looking straight at me.

“Hey y/n, I thought you were over your fear of horses! Why are you getting on the cart, huh?” Connie jabs.

Before I could answer Hange lets out a burst of her own laughter and says, incredulously, “you’re afraid of horses?”

“I am not afraid of horses!” I partially yell, looking between Hange and the three musketeers. Directing my attention to Connie as I sit down, I add, “plus, I don’t know if you can tell but there’s not exactly a spare horse for me right now.”

“That’s no problem, you could have mine!” Sasha offers mischeviously.

My eyes widden and I quickly decline her offer, which only makes everyone laugh harder. There’s even a ghost of a chuckle coming from Levi. As soon as I’m situated, the entire group starts forward and Hange begins to tell us about where we’re headed - the Reiss chapel. Hange clearly doubts herself a bit, going so far as to say that she might be jumping to conclusions.

“It seems you’ve got your own gamble, Hang,” I joke lightly. “I think your’s is a bit more of a safe bet than Erwin’s was though.” She simply smiles at me, to which I happily return it. But the smiles can’t last long.

“So, do you think we’ll be up against the same people we fought the other day?” I ask.

“Yes, it’s extremely likely that anyone left from that squad will be there.” Hange answers.

“You should understand, this is Kenny the Ripper. If he’s there he’s our biggest obstacle. In terms of his threat level, it’s like you’ll be fighting me. Oh wait, with those weapons of his, he’ll be stronger.”

That’s reassuring.

“Then he’s unbeatable, at least for us,” Sasha chimes in.

“Maybe we should wait and meet up with other soldiers,” Connie adds.

“No chance in hell,” Mikasa grits out.

God, this girl really needs to learn how to think without her emotions getting in the way.

The kids keep going back and forth on the topic as Hange dives into why Levi doesn’t know anything about Kenny despite having lived with him. Surprisingly enough, Levi didn’t even know his last name before this evening. And what I didn’t realize is that he has the same last name as Mikasa.

So that’s why she reacted the way she did when Levi was interrogating that interior guy.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to know anything particularly helpful, but what strikes me as really weird is what Levi asked her next.

“Tell me this, have you ever suddenly felt a…power awaken inside you?”

I furrow my eyebrows at him but judging by her reaction, it wasn’t a baseless question. Just then, the cart bounces hard and I’m thrown sideways into Levi.

“Tch, careful brat,” he almost growls at me.

“Oh yeah, lemme just get out and repave the road real quick so that I can ensure I won’t fall on you again and wrinkle your shirt,” I spit back.

Turning back to Mikasa like our little exchange never happened, Levi says “this has happened for Kenny Ackerman as well. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt an absurd amount of strength surging through him. And in that moment, he knew just what he needed to do. And it’s happened to me, too. Makes me wonder.”

As Levi finishes his sentiment, we see the little chapel come into view. It seems rather unassuming. And just upon entry, it is just that: unassuming. Just a couple of pews and a tiny pulpit. But, most notably, no sign of Eren or Historia or Rod Reiss. But, Hange being Hange, knew that this would be the case and quickly finds a small door under a rug.

While she searched for this hidden entrance, the kids and I prepared a series of bombs, barrels of gunpowder, and flamable oil to hopefully give us an advantage.

As we finish up our preparations, I turn to Hange and Levi and ask “Hey, before we go down there, do you think I can bend? I’d be a lot more useful if I can bend instead of relying on this machine.”

“I don’t see why not, this would be the last group that we’d need to keep a secret from anyway and it would give us a distinct advantage since they don’t know about you,” Hange responds.

That’s all the more I needed to hear before I jumped to my feet and ran outside to bend the water from one of the trees nearby. Once I was back inside the chapel, I swirled the water around me to keep it close and available, but it was still too bulky for confines like this. So, with a flexing of my fists, I sped the water up to such a degree that it narrowed and compressed around me. When I’m happy with what I’ve got, I look up only to find everyone staring at me.

This is the first time they’ve seen me really, genuinely, bend.

I center myself and give a nod to signal that I’m ready if they are. Everyone enters the small crawl space between the hatch door and the doors that lead to the chamber except for me. I have to enter last so that I don’t run the risk of hitting anyone with my water right now, given that it’s moving so fast it would obliterate anything it comes into contact with.

And then it begins.

The doors fly open and the barrels roll down. Everyone bursts through immediately afterwards and Sasha is quick to hit them with a flaming arrow. Now I can finally jump down and join. Levi and Mikasa take off into the smoke. The others shoot signal flares. I add some fog to the mix.

“35 in the top parts of the pillars! Continue with the plan! Take them out right here!” Levi yells.

Each of us takes off.

A female voice yells from above something about getting us to spread out and surrounding us.

Sasha ignites another bomb. People start coughing and I follow the sound. I reserve some of my water to move at high speed while I use the rest to maneuver.

Someone grunts to my right. I launch a whip and hear a scream in response. I made contact.

Armin calls for Connie to get back into the smoke and I move to cover him.

Diving back down I see Hange take someone out, but she doesnt’ notice another person behind her.

“Hange!” I scream and she turns. Before she can do anything, I hurdle myself towards her assailant, making sure I get close enough to him that my water helix gets him. It slices him clean in half.

There’s a “whoo hoo” in the distance and I know Kenny has entered the fight. I want to go after him and help Levi but suddenly there are two more people in my way. I drop, narrowly missing their bullets. My water catches me before I spout back up. Once I’m spinning in the air, I get a clear view. They stare for a moment, and I seize the opportunity, sending my own bullets of ice their way.

Boom!

In the distance there’s another, smaller explosion.

Levi used his oil bag.

From the corner of my eye I see him land a good hit on Kenny. But then Hange gets clocked by the blonde bitch and sent flying into a pillar. We all see it. She calls for them to fall back.

I messily drop to the ground and run over to Hange, her injuries are pretty bad but not the worst, all things considered. Before I can heal Levi calls out, “Armin and Moblit, grab Hange. We have to keep moving.”

“No! Wait!” I protest. “That hit could have very easily fucked up her back, before we move her at all at least let me make sure her spine isn’t broken anywhere because if it is and we move her, she could end up paralyzed.”

I don’t wait for a response, already ghosting my hands encased in water over her back. I heal what I can as I quickly triage her before stating, “okay, it seems like her spine is in tact. It’s possible that there’s some internal bleeding but if I can’t sense it strongly then that’s not a huge problem right at the moment and even if it were that’s beyond the scope of my healing. She’s good to move.” I stand back and allow Armin and Moblit to scoop her up like Levi instructed as we all push forward.

We can only push so far before we’re met with a net and no way out. Levi’s demeanor is outwardly unchanged from his baseline, but I can tell in how he’s looking around that he doesn’t know what to do next and it’s panicking him. And as if things couldn’t get any worse, there’s the telltale light of a titan shifting from the blocked room.

As the ground continues to shake and the blast tries to blow us back, I realize that something is terribly, horribly wrong.

I yell over the cacophony, “whenever Eren shifts, it doesn’t take this long and it’s certainly not this strong. Mindless titans are a lot weaker so this doesn’t make sense!”

As a small favor of the universe, the tremors at least open a way for Armin and Moblit to get Hange out and to safety, but it’s in the ceiling. The only thing I can think of is to anchor myself with the ODM gear and bend them out.

“Hey! Hold her tight and stand close enough that all three of you can get through that hole together!” I order. They comply without question and, while I have to fight against the gail force wind which makes bending even harder, I’m able to spout them out.

In the time it takes me to do this, the others find a way past the net and I am forced to catch up with them around what is turning out to be a massive titan. By the time I reach them, I see Mikasa holding Historia and Jean, Connie, and Levi unlocking Eren. But by this time it’s also clear that we’re not going to be able to fight our way back in the direction we came and that we’ll be trapped.

I’m not the only one that has this realization. I make a shelf of ice.

It will keep stray rocks off but it won’t do shit against the whole damn ceiling!

The rocks quickly begin to pile on my shelf and it doesn’t take long for it to become a bit difficult to hold. Instead of waiting for the weight to become too much to handle, I chuck it to the side and simply make a new shelf, but now the problem is that I don’t think there’s enough water for me to do this little trick again.

Meanwhile, Eren seems to be going through some kind of existential crisis.

Bad fucking timing, kid. Just fucking do something.

The others seem to be hyping him up as best as they can, but the longer it takes for us to make a decision the harder it becomes for me to hold this ice.

I grit out, “I don’t…think…I can do this…much…longer!”

Levi almost pleads with Eren, saying “listen, I really hate that I do this to you all the time, but…you’ve gotta make a choice here.” And this seems to do the trick. It spurs him into action. Eren transforms. But it’s not a normal transformation. No, that would be too easy. His transformation seems to almost extend beyond him. But that’s an issue for later. Right now we all just have to take cover under him and hope that he’s strong enough to hold out.

Everyone runs towards Eren’s titan, but at this point I don’t have the energy or strength to throw this slab like the last one. It’s Levi that turns and sees me still standing there, shaking under the weight of the rocks. His eyes are wide as he yells, “y/n! Just drop it behind you and run forward!” I start to tilt it back so that it hopefully slides behind me and I just…run like hell. But my wobbly legs only take me a few steps beyond where I dropped the slab before they give out and I’m struggling to even hoist myself up onto my arms.

I have a fleeting thought that this might be it for me, but no sooner does that cross my mind than Levi is scooping me up and carrying me to safety. Everyone else is huddled together and holding onto Eren wherever they can find purchase so that they’re not blown or shaken away, but Levi sets me down in front of him and holds on around me, effectively securing the both of us.

As soon as it began, it ended. Eren had essentially encased us all in a new room, saving us. When things calmed down, Mikasa and Jean went to break Eren out of the shell he had cast himself into while everyone else, including myself, collapsed. It felt like every muscle in my body was shaking from exertion.

After a few deep breathes, I open my eyes to see Levi peering down at me, offering a hand to help me up. I gladly accept his assistance but when I’m back on my feet I falter again and he’s quickly got his arm wrapped around my waist. His face is still stoney, but I can see there’s worry in his eyes.

Still holding onto him tightly, I smile tiredly and reassure him, “I’m alright, I’m alright. My body is just exhausted. I just need a minute and I’ll be good to go.” He nods, but notably doesn’t let go of me.

“Thank you,” I say. “For your suggestion to drop the rocks instead of trying to throw them, for pulling me to safety, for making sure I didn’t go anywhere. Just…thank you.” He doesn’t say anything, but it’s like his eyes are saying “you’re welcome.” It’s only now that I realize just how close we are to each other.

Seemingly noticing the same thing, Levi clears his throat and I shake myself out, finally able to stand on my own.

“Where’s Hange?” I ask.

“Outside with Armin and Moblit,” Levi replies calmly. Just then, the others return after securing an exit and we all leave the chamber. There’s no time to assess the damage left behind by Rod’s titan, so we quickly load up and take off. As soon as we’re moving, I get to work healing Hange.

“Alright Hang, I’m sorry but this is going to hurt worse before it feels better,” I warn her.

Before I start, Erwin approaches on horseback and we debrief. While Hange is distracted, I wrap my hands in water and lean in.

“Ooooooohhh what are you doing?!” Hange asks excitedly.

“I was trying to get this over with while you weren’t paying attention so it wouldn’t hurt as badly,” I glance to her.

“Are you kidding?! I would’ve been so angry with you if you didn’t let me take every step of this in!”

Even when she’s laid up on a cart she’s still painfully curious. Too cute.

I begin talking softly with her as everyone else discusses next steps. “Alright, if that’s how you want it I’ll give you the play by play. I have the water wrapped around my hands and I’m going to place it over the afflicted area. Then once I start actually bending it will begin to glow. Once it starts glowing is when the healing is actually occuring. And before you ask, no, I don’t really know how it works, I just know that I can feel your injury and direct the water to that location.”

She listens with wide eyes and without another word I bring both of my hands forward until they’re just barely ghosting above her shoulder. Just like I said it would, the water begins glowing and I feel her bristle for a moment before she relaxes.

“When I checked you over earlier I thought there might be some internal bleeding, do you mind if I check that while we’re at it?”

“Knock yourself out!”

Smiling at her continued enthusiasm, I move my hands over her chest and then begin slowly working my way along her torso. When I’m done, I flick the water over the side of the cart and give her a thumbs up, saying, “Good news, I don’t notice anything now so I don’t think there’s any kind of internal bleeding. You should probably still have your arm in a sling to rest it and recuperate, but it seems like you’re absolutely fine to me.”

She smiles back at me before I see a familiar look on her face: she’s thinking. Before I can ask what’s on her mind, she says, “Y/n, if you can sense blood, does that mean you can bend it?”

The smile is wiped from my face in an instant and my mouth drops open despite not knowing how to respond. After a moment of sitting there like a fish out of water, I reluctantly say, “Theoretically, yes.”

“Well then we should try it! Maybe that can be our next exp-”

“No. Absolutely not,” I cut her off. Sitting back on my heels I break away from her gaze and notice that Levi had been tuned in to this conversation. Without looking at either of them, I sit back on the cart and wait to reach our destination without another word.

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silverwings22 · 1 month

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Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 64: All About US: T.A.T.U

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness Chapter warnings: mind control, death, force ghosts, drowning

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He couldn’t become one of them. He had to fight. She’d found him, she’d promised she would be he had hoped she’d fail but she hadn’t. She was here, in this nightmare of a place they couldn’t wake up from. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was here.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced, but he had to hold it together. He couldn’t crack. He couldn’t fall apart.

He couldn’t breathe. The strap around his chest was too tight, his bound hands trembling in their restraints, and he was going to-

“Crosshair? Crosshair!”

Her voice was right there. No, she couldn’t be in here. She’d be-

“Crosshair!”

The sniper spasmed into wakefulness, finding himself on his side with someone shaking his shoulder. He almost swung, until he realized he was looking at a bedroom, not a cell. He was in a house, his in-laws house since they’d decided to stay on Pabu. This was his and Miria’s room, and the woman next to him was in a pink nightgown instead of an Imperial uniform. “M-miria…?”

She sighed with relief, leaning back to give him space to roll over on his back. He was slick with sweat, hands shaking and chest heaving. “You were thrashing around in your sleep, darling.” Her voice dropped to softness, sitting on her knees and leaning over him. She ran her knuckles gently over his cheek. “Are you alright?”

He stared at her, breath ragged, for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled, burying his face in her lap. He didn’t respond, which meant he wasn’t alright. She could feel his shoulders shaking as he clung to her, and she worriedly smoothed her hand over his buzzed hair. “Shhh.” She breathed. “I’m here.”

He nodded against her thigh, shivering. “D-didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I don’t mind.” She shook her head. “You need me now, love.” She’d been without him too long not to stick around for the hard things. Especially not now that she was his wife.

He nodded again, still clinging until the sweat started to cool and the shakes stopped. Finally, he propped his chin up on her leg and looked up at her hesitantly. Miria cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing lightly on his eyebrow. “Feel better?” She breathed.

“Yeah…” He slowly rolled and sat up, pulling up a knee and rubbing the back of his neck. “... they’re not usually that bad.”

“The nightmares?” She scooted over, close to him, and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Yeah. I don’t usually wake you up.” He glanced over as she lay her head on his arm. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I wouldn’t want you dealing with this alone. Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head too fast. “I can’t.”

Miria sighed. That meant it was about Tantiss. Every time he avoided something, it was about Tantiss. He’d tell her what he’d done in the Empire, but not what they’d done to him… shame was easier to break than whatever fear that lived under his skin. “Okay, darling. We don’t have to talk.” She rearranged the pillows and lay back, lightly patting her chest where he could see the top of her tattoo peeking out. “Come here.”

Crosshair was all too glad to take her up on the invitation, putting his head down on her breasts the way he’d done the first night he’d ever held her. Her heartbeat was soothing under his ear, stronger and more steady than his memory. They’d talked about Thule when he asked,, when her Aunt was still on Pabu after the wedding two months ago. Irene had filled in the blanks for Miria’s experiences, and he was grateful to know her abilities wouldn’t destroy her body anymore. He closed his eyes and focused on the beat, letting her be the one he could trust with his vulnerability despite how much he hated having it. “When did you turn into the tough one out of the two of us?”

Miria sighed. “I’m not.”

“You’re not the one coming apart over a nightmare.” He muttered grumpily. “I thought it would go away now that we’re out…”

“You went through hell, Crosshair.” She kissed his temple. “And… It’s not true that I’m not coming apart sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow, getting more comfortable on her breast. He felt like a wreck, like he was letting her down while his hand wasn’t getting better and now this… “Still look like Little Miss Perfect to me.”

“That’s Mrs. Perfect, now. But I’m far from it.” She sighed. She had hoped it would go away on its own, when they moved into the big house with the rest of the Batch and her parents. They had help and support here, she’d been happy watching the family interact… until Jet fell off the roof working on a panel and she’d crawled into the bushes to hide that she couldn’t breathe in another panic attack. She didn’t think anyone had seen her for the thirty minutes it took her to catch her breath, but the image of Tech disappearing into the clouds wouldn’t leave her head for hours afterwards. She had to talk to him about it. “I’ve been having… episodes. Panic attacks, Echo thinks. I had the first severe one on Barton 4, when I couldn’t reach you and Hunter… and another one when Father fell.”

His brow furrowed. “.... I thought you’d gone for a walk or something.”

“Hiding in the bushes by the back gate, actually. Hyperventilating.” She shook her head. “It didn’t start until after Tantiss…”

Crosshair squeezed her a little around the waist. “One hell of a pair, aren’t we? Why didn’t you say anything? I don’t like you going through it alone.”

“Like you were doing with the nightmares?” She looked at him, mottled silver moonlight from the window making patches on his skin. He looked beautiful, she thought as she snuggled him a little closer.

He grumbled for a long moment, a half-growl against her skin, before he spoke. “I think I was alone too long… I forgot how to have someone else give a damn.”

Miria hugged him around the shoulders a little bit tighter. “We’re together now. I’ve got you.”

Crosshair nodded, holding tighter to her. He still felt like his skin was crawling, but he had her to hold now. It was better, they were together… “I know.”

Miria wasn’t surprised when Echo showed up on Pabu with a request for help from Rex. It was hush-hush, details sparse for safety’s sake, but she agreed to have the Batch go out and meet with the captain. She trusted Rex, she’d accept very little detail from him.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Crosshair frowned as he put on his armor. He was going, of course, but he didn't like it.

“Rex needs our help, darling.” She sighed, hanging up her dress and putting on her beskar. “And he said Aram was almost hurt in an attack on Senator Chuchi… and Singh.”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow. “Wasn't he a Separatist?”

“I told you we rescued a Separatist senator. He was very polite for being the cause of a crisis of faith.” She tucked her helmet onto her hip. “Come on, Echo should be here by now and Mother and Father can't wait to babysit.”

“I don't like leaving her.” He sighed. “Or taking Omega.”

She smiled. “You know this is just further proof to my long-standing theory you're actually a big softie.”

“Don't tell anyone.” He put an arm around her and they stepped out.

“They already know, darling.”

Jet and Annalise said their goodbyes and let the newlyweds head down to meet the others. Echo waved. “Good to see you, General.”

“Good to see you too. We've missed you around here.” She nodded, and they all boarded his ship. They took seats and got comfortable, Crosshair fiddling with a toothpick. Miria tried not to laugh at Omega swiping one and mimicking his posture. She'd grown up a lot during their time on Tantiss, but she was still a child in many ways. Miria hoped she didn't have to keep growing up so fast.

“Where are we going?” Hunter finally asked the question they were all wondering.

“It's a base, of sorts.” Echo smiled weakly. “Low profile, off the Imperial radar.”

“I thought your rendezvous with Gregor took priority.” Miria crossed her legs and leaned back to look at him. “Is everything alright?”

“I'll pick him up after I drop you guys off.” Echo chuckled. “Don't worry so much.”

“Easier said than done. This is extremely secretive, Echo. I know why it must be, but still. I don't like being out of the loop.”

“Sorry, General. I promise it's for a reason.” He gave her an apologetic look. “You'll be glad of the extra security.”

Miria sighed and nodded, flexing her hands in her lap. They didn't ache as often, but sometimes she couldn't help but remember the pain. Especially when Crosshair’s hand was still shaking often enough her mother had started to notice.

She kept her eye on the planes of her husband's face as they flew, still pondering over that injury. She didn't see a scar on his hand… what had happened? He didn't want to tell her, and she was in no more hurry to retell the story of Hemlock rummaging around her insides. She didn't pry, neither did he.

They came touching down at a spire that looked like a clone helmet from the angle of approach, the visor made of a huge rent in the side of the building. She felt an immediate sense of dread in her stomach, remembering the last time she'd seen 501st blue coming off of Teth.

She wasn't sure if she was just horrified at the conditions these clones were surviving in, or if the Force was trying to warn her. She needed to meditate more, according to her Uncle, and restore the vision that so much trauma and anger had clouded since the Order fell.

Was that why I couldn't reach Tech? Was it my fault? I could have lost Crosshair and Hunter on Barton-4, too…

She shook off her doubts as they touched down and stepped out of the ship. Echo called Omega back for a moment, so the rest of them stepped up to meet Rex and-

“Captain Howzer.” Miria blinked.

He inclined his head. “General Halcyon. Good to see you again. Not that I knew it was you, back on Ryloth.” He shook her hand, then eyed Crosshair behind her. “Nearly all my men from then are dead. Because of you.”

“The situation has changed since Ryloth.” Crosshair said tensely. “I'm here now.”

“Your squad might trust you, but I don't. You-” Howzer's hiss was cut off by a small but very firm hand smacking into his chest plate.

“That's enough, sir. I dislike the way you're speaking to ner riduur.” Miria said sternly.

Rex nodded. “Whatever history there is between you two can wait. We're on the same side.”

Howzer grumbled but nodded, looking from Miria to Crosshair and back like he couldn't believe they were together before turning around to lead the way inside.

Rex fell into step on Miria's other side. “Riduur? Already?”

Miria laughed. “It was a beautiful wedding, captain. I don't know what was lovelier, the dress Aram made me or the one he made my daughter.”

“Your daughter?”

“She looks like her father.” Miria nodded to Crosshair. “Silver hair and tan.”

Crosshair smirked around his toothpick all the way into the base, not noticing the concerned look on Rex’s face.

“So what's this all about, Rex?” Hunter asked as they got inside.

Rex held up a puck. “We decrypted this. On top of an assassination order, we found capture orders for two targets.” Rex hit the button, showing an older holo of Omega.

“Unsurprising.” Crosshair sighed, looking at Omega. “The Empire is after you. Again.”

“The second one might catch you off guard.” Rex flicked the button and a green tinted image of a newborn's face appeared, along with a computer-generated age progression. Miria and Crosshair both stiffened at the holo. “That your daughter?”

Miria nodded, swallowing hard. “... that's her. Mayrin.”

“What the fuck does Hemlock want with her?” Crosshair hissed.

“There were notes… on Barton-4, we opened the datapad. A bred loyal and raised from birth by his hand assassin… Force-sensitive by my blood and resistant to outside influence by yours.” Miria clenched her fists, catching her breath. “Padawan mine, if there’s anything you learned that you think would be useful…”

Crosshair stared at his daughter's face as Omega started info-dumping everything she could remember about Tantiss. Of course. Hemlock was trying to make his daughter a success where Crosshair had been a failure. An advanced, soulless operative hell-bent on the mission at any cost-

Not his daughter. Not his little sister, either.

“There's something you should know.” He cleared his throat. “Not every clone on Tantiss is a prisoner. Some are loyal to the Empire. They're conditioned to be the most ruthless special ops, all identifiers are erased, but when they come back, they're …different.”

“And how do you know that?” Howzer huffed.

“Because they tried to do it to me, but it didn't work. I'm defective by nature.” Crosshair shrugged.

Miria was staring at him, face white as a sheet. The parts were falling into place for her now… why he didn't talk about what happened to him, avoiding the medical droid, the tremors, the way he clung to her in the middle of the night and jolted awake without a sound…

“They tortured you.” She whispered.

Crosshair winced, but didn't respond. He couldn't even look at her, which only confirmed her fears. Rex sighed. “That explains why this one won't crack. We knew about the assassins. We captured one.”

Crosshair blanched. “Impossible. The Empire would be right on top of us.”

“We cleared him.” Howard shrugged. “C'mon, he's this way.”

Crosshair grabbed Miria by the arm, hand shaking. “Miria. We need to leave.” His voice was tense, eyes wide. He looked legitimately terrified.

“We have to find out what they know, Crosshair. Taking down Tantiss may be the only way to keep Hemlock away from Omega and Mayrin.” Miria eased his grip off her bicep and held his hands in hers.

He gritted his teeth. “Fuck. You don't understand. We need to leave.”

She squeezed his hand and led him after the others despite how he hung back, going into a back room. Fireball waved at Miria before looking at the dull-eyed trooper next to him. “Still nothing. Hey, General. This guy tried to kill your cousin and Senator Chuchi.”

“Aram stays in trouble.” Miria grumbled, eying the man. “You should start talking. You don't want me to pull it out of your mind… it's unpleasant, and I don't like hurting clones.”

His brown eyes flicked to. “Why don't you ask him?” He nodded towards Crosshair. “He was almost one of us. Isn't that right, brother?”

Crosshair visibly recoiled, tugging at Miria's vambrace. “We need to go.” He repeated, and there was a vicious terror that rolled off him so strongly she felt it in her own chest.

Howzer sneered. “How do we know he's not still working for the Empire? They seem pretty familiar. How can you have been held on Tantiss for months and not know where it is?!”

“I was held there too, captain.” Miria stared him down, arm outstretched protectively in front of her husband. “And I have no more idea than Crosshair does. Are you going to accuse me of working for the Empire too?”

“No, but I can accuse him of manipulating you.” Howzer pointed over her shoulder at the sniper.

“I told you, things change.” Crosshair growled. “But you need to listen to me. If he's gone dark, they'll come find him. They have ways your scanners won't pick up.”

Behind Howzer, the captured clone was laughing. “He's right. They're coming for all of you.”

“That's enough.” Miria snapped. “Out of the room, all of you. We're not giving an Imperial agent a damn show!”

Howzer and Crosshair both looked chastened, and Rex sighed. “C'mon. It's chow time anyway. Howzer added Manda- knows-what to it again.

Wrecker grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

Miria walked out and watched him and Omega run off to get food with Batcher and Fireball. She leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of her nose as Crosshair wisely found a corner within sight of Omega to keep an eye on her and avoid Howzer. The captain was getting a dressing down from Rex on the other side of the room.

Hunter leaned next to Miria. “You okay?”

“Other than finding it both our girls are in terrible danger and my husband was hiding that he'd been tortured?” She sighed. “... Force, Hunter. What else isn't he telling me? What do we do?”

“I'm still trying to figure that out. Were you listening to what Omega was saying? Maybe you know more about this M-count?”

Miria paused. “...M-count?”

“Omega said that's what they were measuring. They took blood from everyone, even her.”

“Some Jedi used to carry a device called an M-counter… It measured midichlorians. A biometric of potential force sensitivity… Master Jinn used one on Anakin when he found him, Obi-wan told me about it…” She frowned. “But as a rule, clones aren't Force-sensitive… how would testing their blood be in any way useful?”

Hunter shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.” His eyes drifted to Crosshair. “You okay with him right now?”

She sighed. “I am. I just… they hurt him, Hunter. I don’t blame him for not wanting to relive it… I don’t either.” Her fingers drifted to her side, to the raw scars where Hemlock had cut her open. “... whatever they did to him is worse than we know.”

“But we need to know.” Hunter frowned.

“I know. But he's got to heal enough to talk about it, and I can't even get him to let AZI look at his hand.” She pinched the bridge of her nose again. Center. Breathe. Find balance, like Uncle said. She couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now. Her eyes opened and she looked around. “I sense something… eerie.” It felt sentient, but cold. As if the soul had been scrubbed off the still breathing body, leaving behind something barely more than a droid but twice as lethal. “Move everyone behind cover. I’ll get Rex.”

Hunter didn’t waste time asking for explanation, running the opposite way she went to gather the collected clones and get them to safety. Miria grabbed Rex by the arm when a blaster shot narrowly missed them. “We’re under attack?” Rex slung her behind a crate and dove after her.

“Yes. It’s one of those shadow assassins.” She said quietly, putting her helmet on.

“How do you know?”

“Because it feels like Crosshair said it would, in the Force. Erased.” She pulled her blaster and peeked around, firing a shot at the lone assassin that had managed to pigeonhole them. “If he’s here, the rest of the Empire won’t be far behind.”

“Shit.” Rex swore. “We need to take him out.”

“You’re going to have to evacuate, Rex. This base is compromised.” A shot whizzed past Miria’s head, dead center through the open door in the back room and into the other Imperial trooper’s chest. Then a thermal came flying overhead. She shoved Rex out of the way and picked it up, hurling it back with all the strength she had. It landed right in front of the assassin, whose helmet did a double take before being sent flying by the detonation. Fireball had a flamethrower and Howzer had his helmet on as they moved in for the kill, but the assassin threw another handful of thermals and kept shooting. Miria snatched out her lightsaber and jumped up, deflecting shots back and up to make debris rain down on the shooter. It didn’t seem to make a difference, but it did draw his fire enough she hoped the clones could find an escape route.

It never ends, does it? The war, the death, the suffering… For a moment in the middle of the fire and hell, Miria felt suspended and in slow motion as her chest seized. This was just like the war… no, this was worse. At least during the war, their opponents had been droids. Lights and clockwork, programmed by a creator without choice of their own. Now, it was brother killing brother and spilling shared blood… Though, if Crosshair’s words held truth then the clone shooting at them had been programmed just the same.

The Empire ruined everything it touched.

A shot hit Fireball in the chest, and he dropped to one knee. A brave and brilliant trooper to the end, he aimed the flamethrower for a dropped thermal.

Rex grabbed Miria and threw her to Wrecker, the now depleted group of clones backing into the center of the spire. “Sorry, General.” Wrecker said sheepishly as he set her down in front of Crosshair. “It’s been a while since someone threw you.”

“It’s alright. I almost missed it.” She patted his arm, then turned as Crosshair’s hands dropped on her shoulders.

“You okay?” He sounded like he was coming apart at the seams and it broke her heart. He'd tried to warn them in his way, and now hell had come for them.

“I’m fine, darling.” She put her hand over his shaking one. “We need to go. You were right.”

Hunter looked at Rex. “You got a back way out of here?”

“Always.” The captain shoved a couple boxes out of the way, showing them a hole in the floor that led to the inside of the spire and steps leading down. “Our leech ship is about ten levels down.”

Miria frowned. “I’ve run missions with you in that ship, Rex. There’s no hyperdrive, we won’t get far.”

“We can use it to comm Echo.” Howzer explained, glancing over where Crosshair kept a hand on Miria while checking on Omega. He hadn’t expected the sniper who’d been absolutely fine with getting him killed on Ryloth to care so much about anyone. Much less a child and Jedi…

“Let’s go then, before that assassin wakes up.” Miria muttered. If she kept her mind on the clones that needed her, she could shove the clawing feeling in her throat down enough to function. She had to protect them.

“He’s not dead?” Howzer blinked.

“No. I still feel that presence in the Force. And it is uncomfortable.”

Crosshair nodded, looking at Omega. “Stay close.”

They started down the steps as quickly as they could, keeping each other upright and checking around each turn with flashlights and blasters. Miria held her lightsaber up like a glow stick, walking near the back with Crosshair and Omega.

Omega looked up at her and clutched her energy crossbow a little tighter. “...Miri?”

“Yes, padawan mine?” Miria’s helmet was scanning, anxiety in her gut. She could sense the assassin was awake, stirring and ready to come after them. But he wasn’t angry… he wasn’t anything. He didn’t feel.

“Are you scared?”

“I’m terrified.” Miria admitted, a gentle hand resting on Omega’s cheek. “But I will do whatever it takes to protect you, and Mayrin.” She swallowed the furious panic and focused on how much she loved the two girls. That had to matter more than anything.

Crosshair put an arm out in front of them. “Stop.” The entire group froze, and he leaned into a small window in the center of the staircase. Down below, he saw lights. Up above, he saw the assassin. He jerked his head back, narrowly avoiding being shot, before he was drawing his rifle and shooting back. “Take them and go. I’ll catch up.” He gave Miria a quick nod.

She nodded back, taking Omega by the hand. She wanted to stay with him, keep him safe, but he’d never be okay with it. The good of the mission be damned, perhaps, but not the good of the family. “I hate this plan.” She whispered to Omega.

They loaded swiftly into the leech ship, Wrecker waiting by the door to cover Crosshair’s run back to them. Miria looked up as an explosion rattled the level above them. Crosshair must have used an exploding round… a clever workaround to his shaking hand. She wished he didn’t need it, but at least he was still as brilliant as she’d always known he was.

The sniper came running in. “Let’s go. We’re out of time.” He rasped at Wrecker, who turned to follow him.

“We were waiting for you.”

Miria pulled them both in and shut the hatch. “Secure, Rex!”

Rex got them in the air as quickly as he could, dodging a few shots from a platoon of troopers that had landed on the top of the spire. They should be able to dodge them long enough for Echo to pick them up-

“Shit.” Hunter hissed when the leech ship rocked violently and a precise shot hit their rear engine. Everyone went tumbling, fire streaming from the side of the ship.

Rex was on the comm, giving Echo coordinates to where they were headed for a crash. Miria gritted her teeth and pulled up with the Force as hard as she could to level them out, searching for a gap in the trees to avoid being dashed to pieces.

They skidded to a stop in the middle of the jungle, Wrecker pushing the hatch up for them to escape. He caught Omega when she jumped out and set her down next to Crosshair, who leaned over and looked at her. “You good?” He murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“Got your crossbow?” He leaned over to check her for injuries. “And able to carry those supplies?” He had seen into her bag before the crash, noting the number of smoke bombs she had tucked away.

“Yes. You’re as bad as Hunter.” She tried not to smirk.

Crosshair lifted his arms, catching Miria as she jumped out of the ship. The Jedi chuckled. “He’s much worse.”

Omega raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Hovered over me the whole war.”

Crosshair put her down carefully, checking her over. “You were sick.”

“I’m not sick now.” She grinned under her helmet.

“Now you’re my wife.”

Omega made a face and walked off, Batcher rubbing up against her side now that they were on solid ground. She’d never tell them, but she was glad to see Miria and Crosshair acting like that even in the situation they found themselves. It reaffirmed what Miria had told her all along: the Crosshair that had joined the Empire and pursued them was never the man she’d fallen in love with. This was Miria’s Crosshair, the man who worried about kids and was willing to face what terrified him for the people he loved.

They crept carefully through the trees, staying in close formation. Miria noticed Howzer hanging back near Crosshair, and could feel the tension wanting to break. She gave her husband a quick squeeze of his hand and nodded to the captain, before pulling slightly ahead to Rex and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced back at Howzer and fell into even step with him. “You want to say something?” He asked mildly.

“I wasn’t sure you were really out of the Empire.” Howzer said quietly. “Even with General Halcyon vouching for you… until I saw you with the kid. And then I find out you have a daughter. That’s not the man you were on Ryloth. What changed?”

Crosshair sighed, taking his helmet off and looking back at Howzer. “Loyalty meant something to me. But I realized, in the Empire, it didn’t go both ways. I figured out how expendable I was to them… but not to this squad. And not to her.” He nodded his head towards Miria. “She and Omega saved me.”

Howzer nodded, glancing over as Omega glanced back. She was a special kid, it was obvious from just how many hardened soldiers immediately were willing to lay down their lives for her. The Empire was searching for her, and the sniper beside him’s daughter. It had to be paralyzing to think about, but the Bad Batch kept moving to protect their girls.

“Shuttle inbound.” Hunter called, and they scattered into the undergrowth to avoid the searchlights. Wrecker bodily picked Batcher up to rescue her, which was as wholesome as it was terrifying that he had to.

Miria flicked a scope down her helmet and frowned. “That assassin is with them.”

“Shit.” Hunter hissed.

Crosshair looked at Omega, who grinned and held up a smoke bomb. “Let them get on the ground.” She said brightly.

Rex and Howzer nodded, picking up the plan quickly. As soon as Imperial boots touched the ground, smoke bombs were rolling under their feet. They were quickly lost in the dense cover, and picked off from the outside. Screams echoed through the undergrowth, along with blaster fire from the clones and the hum of Miria’s lightsaber.

It took a few minutes, but they cleared out the TK troopers. Crosshair was scanning the downed ones and frowned. “No sign of the-” A blaster shot whizzed past him, straight for Miria, who deflected it only half turned around. He posted up, shooting the direction it came from. “I’ll draw his fire. Go.”

“I don’t like this plan!” Omega squeaked.

“Too bad.”

Miria clutched her chest plate and nodded, pushing Omega to Hunter and whistling for Batcher. She’d circle back once they were secure, but she had to protect Omega. That was the most important part of her life, protecting the little ones. IT was what Crosshair expected of her. Fighting for who she loved, to keep them safe-

Miria. A voice she hadn’t heard in a long time seemed to breathe against the back of her neck, and her skin prickled while her choppy breathing eased slightly.

How?

Behind her, Crosshair was giving everything he had into covering their retreat. He and the assassin both had similar rifles and his near-miss shots were on par with above-average clone accuracy. He managed to disarm the assassin, if barely, and stalked through the mist and brush searching for the enemy. He had to find him and end this, because it might be the only way they’d ever be safe. Hopeful, bright eyed Omega might finally be safe. Faithful, brave Miria was waiting for him to get back to her and baby Mayrin. That was all that mattered, and he had to stop the Empire before-

There. He spotted a glimmer of armor and pounced, without enough room to get the rifle up and firing he did manage to use it as a melee weapon. The Imperial was strong and hand-to-hand had never been Crosshair’s strong suit, but he did all he could. He even managed to get behind his opponent, using the barrel of his rifle to choke him, until the Imperial threw himself backwards and sent them both tumbling over the edge of a cliffside and into the river below.

Miria was climbing up the rocks behind the rest of the batch as the light of morning started to break around them. They were almost to the landing zone, but she felt something pulling at her lungs like it had when she couldn’t make it to the surface on Kamino. Your sniper is in danger. The voice breathed.

“Crosshair…” She whispered.

Howzer looked at her. “You okay, General?”

“No, somethings wrong. Rex, take care of my people.” She turned and started running down the rocks again, jumping as fast as she could.

Rex nodded to Howzer. “Go after her. She might need backup.” He knew better than to try to get in the middle of Miria and Crosshair. Not after all she’d been through since he’d seen her first after the Order fell, on Ord Mantell begging him to get the chips out of her friends before she had to lose someone else. She wasn’t the same woman, but he had a habit of not arguing with people who could kill him with their mind.

Miria scrambled up on the flat rocks flanking the river, searching desperately for any sign of Crosshair. Her chest ached, she couldn’t breathe, she wasn’t sure if it was drowning or an attack but it was making her vision blur- The flash of a vibroblade caught her eye. Crosshair was in knee deep water, trying to keep from being gutted by the assassin as he swung a blade. Howzer posted up next to her, trying to line up a shot, but he couldn’t risk it without hitting Crosshair.

Then the assassin took the sniper’s knee out from under him and Crosshair went down on his back, face pushed underwater as his enemy quit trying to stab him and started trying to drown him. She wanted to scream, but Howzer quickly nudged him. “I’ll grab him. Take the assassin.” He said, confident enough to make her take a breath.

She took off, Force-assisted speed on her heels as Howzer headed for the edge of the falls. The assassin didn’t have any time to react before she was flying, armored foot slamming viciously into the side of his face and sending him flying several feet into the water. Crosshair surfaced with a desperate breath, swept up in the stream, and grabbed a rock before he could be swept over the edge of the falls. Howzer grabbed him and helped him out of the water as the assassin attempted to clamber to his feet and was once again hit with a Jedi-Mandalorian missile when Miria spin-kicked him in the ribs and right into the fastest part of the stream. His hands scrabbled on the rocks, trying to pull himself up, and she reached for her blaster to finish it. Protect what you love, do not kill what you hate. That is the difference between the Jedi and Sith.

Miria slowly put her blaster back in the holster on her hip, looking at the assassin. He wasn't armed, he wasn't a threat any more… His helmet locked into hers for a moment, then he let go of the rock. He was swept over the falls, falling silently.

Miria turned around, running over to Crosshair as Howzer helped him along. She panted, pulling her helmet up to show a worried face. “Are you hurt?”

Crosshair shook his head, coughing up some water into his equally waterlogged helmet he was holding. “I’ll be fine. The others…?”

“Almost to the landing zone. Let’s get to them.” She slipped under his other arm and Howzer kept hold of the other. “... good to see you two getting along.” She murmured after a moment.

“Things have changed.” Howzer said quietly. “You know how it is, General. Loyalty means everything to us clones.”

She smiled weakly, glancing over her shoulder as if she were hoping to see someone. “Me too, Captain. Me too.”

They made it to the landing zone and Crosshair had mostly quit coughing up water. Rex was working on his comm, notifying Echo they’d made it, when an Imperial ship pulled around. Everyone had weapons out, pushing Omega to the back of the formation and circling around. The ship hatch opened slowly, a group of clone troopers stepping out led by a commander in gray paint. Both Rex and Miria froze.

“Wolffe?” Rex put his blasters down slowly and took his helmet off.

The commander paused. “Rex? What are you doing here… you’re listed as killed in action. You went down in a ship crash.”

“Oh, I did.” Rex nodded, eyes hard. “I lost a lot of good men that day. I lost plenty today, too.” He waved a hand around them, letting the destruction speak for itself.

“You’re a traitor, Rex.” Wolffe said quietly. “Just hand the girl over, and I’ll see that you get a fair trial. All of you.”

Miria snatched her helmet off. “Like the one you gave to Master Plo?”

Wolffe did a double take at the face in front of him, good eye wide. “Miri?” He whispered, facing the Jedi who’d visited them most often between missions. She’d always had snacks and laughter for them, and a hug for his general… Plo called the Wolfpack his sons and Miria their sister. She’d had her own squad to attend to but she’d always had a soft spot for him, Sinker, Comet, Boost, and Warthog. “You’re alive?”

“I am.” She straightened her shoulders. “The inhibitor chips didn’t go off in my squad.” A shimmery light just behind Wolffe’s shoulder caught her eye, and she knew no one else could see what she did. A tall Kel Dor in an anti-ox mask, looking at his grown up padawan with a task in mind for her.

Miria wouldn’t let him down.

“Inhibitor chips…” Wolffe frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Master Plo was as much your father as he was mine. You would never have shot him down in cold blood. Something compelled you to. And I bet you get a headache when you think about it, don’t you? You got one the moment you saw my face.”

His cybernetic eye twitched, facing her down. “I am a soldier of the Empire.”

“That’s not your fault either. You didn’t choose this, but you can choose to make it right. Come with us, Wolffe. You’re their brother. And you’re my brother too.” Miria had learned a lesson from Omega on Kamino, in the kind of faith that could bring a brother back from the Empire. Omega’s had brought Crosshair home. She had to appeal to Wolffe.

Rex put a hand on her shoulder. “Other clones are being experimented on and tortured. Omega saw it. And even if you don’t believe us, look at what the Empire has you doing. You’re hunting a child.”

Wolffe’s expression softened, looking from the brother he’d always trusted to the Jedi sister who’d never done anything but be kind to him. He glanced up as another ship appeared, opening its hatch hurriedly for the ragtag group of rebels to board. He waved for his men to lower their blasters, and gave Rex a quick nod.

Miria waited a moment, for the clones to be loaded, before she took a deep breath. “He forgives you, Wolffe. He knows the truth. And he wants me to make sure you know you're still not expendable to him.” Her voice was soft as she watched the ghost of her Master incline his head in thanks. She knew him, all he would want was Wolffe to know he didn’t blame him. “You have to forgive yourself. We’ll be waiting when you do.” She turned and ran onto the ship, the hatch closing behind her.

Crosshair wrapped an arm around her as soon as she got close enough, head resting on top of hers. “You okay?”

She snuggled into his chest, closing her eyes as she panted and started to shake. She’d held it off as long as she could, but the image of Crosshair under the water and slowly drowning was burned into her mind right next to every other horror show she’d seen since the day the Republic fell. “I kept hoping that when you came home, our fight would be over.” She whispered. “But the only way the girls will ever be safe is if we fight for them.”

Protect what you love, not kill what you hate. The action might be the same, but the intention matters.

Crosshair nodded, pressing his lips against her forehead. Across the ship, he could hear Rex telling Hunter the same thing. The only way to keep Omega safe was going to be to find out why the Empire wanted her so badly, and to fight them. “Yeah… I know.”

She was back in the cell, all alone and helpless. The rattling, wheezing rasp of breathing was getting louder as it approached. She knew who it was, it could only be Vader. Anakin, or what had once been him. The dark shadow eclipsed her as she backed up against the bunk. “What do you want?” She whispered, hating that her voice wasn’t strong enough. She couldn’t breathe, the panic attack clawing into her lungs.

“You think you have escaped me.” He rasped. “You think you’ve escaped the Dark Side. But you will fall. I will see to it.”

“No.” Miria shook her head, clinging to the bunk. She was afraid, she was so scared and she wanted to curl up and sob when she needed to fight. Where was her beskar spine now? Why couldn’t she be defiant, as she had on Kamino? “Get away. You won’t win.”

She couldn’t catch her breath. Her head was spinning.

“Is that so? Tell my new apprentice.” Vader pulled his cloak back, and Miria’s worst nightmare stared at her. A teenage Mayrin, staring at her with eyes no longer lavender but burning sith yellow. “If my child cannot follow in my footsteps, your daughter will.”

She tried to scream, but she couldn’t. There wasn’t enough air, and the haunting raspy breathing of Darth Vader drowned out her whimpers.

Miria’s eyes snapped open, coming awake with a gasp and clutch of her throat. She was on Echo’s ship, laying on the floor with her head on Crosshair’s chest where they’d tried to rest following the entire mess on Teth. She couldn’t catch her breath, feeling like she was drowning on Kamino again. What was happening to-

The labored, heavy breathing wasn’t fading with the dream, and she startled when Crosshair coughed violently under her cheek. She sat up, clutching her chest, and frowned as she realized the ache in her own lungs wasn’t physical. It was coming through the bond between them. “D-darling?” She frowned, leaning over him. “Crosshair?”

His face was so pale he looked gray, and she heard a crackling sound as he struggled for another breath. “Ch-chest hurts…” He mumbled. “Can’t breathe…”

“Don’t talk.” Adrenaline woke Miria completely. “Hunter! Rex!”

The two leaders stuck their heads around from the cockpit. “What’s up, Miri?”

“I need a medpack with an ox mask.” She slipped her arm under Crosshair’s shoulders and pulled him upright. Crosshair coughed again, so hard he almost knocked her over, and she winced as he spat out a mouthful of reddish-tinged liquid onto the floor. “He can’t breathe.”

Hunter paled. “Shit.”

Rex turned around and went running for the supplies for the mask. Miria dragged Crosshair up against the wall to prop him up, holding his face in her hands. “Darling, look at me. You’re going to be okay.” She willed herself not to panic, even as the tightening of her chest threatened to undo her. He needed her to hold on, she had to save him.

“Why didn’t you wake anyone up?” Hunter growled as Rex came back with the supplies. The captain snapped the mask components together and handed it to Miria, who pulled it over her husband’s face.

“Hard to… talk when… can’t breathe…” The sniper muttered.

“Shh.” Miria took a pulse ox monitor and yanked Crosshair’s glove off to get it on his finger.

“What the hell is going on with him? He was fine before.” Rex muttered as the sniper’s oxygen levels started coming up, but he still was struggling to breathe. Crosshair’s hands were grasping tightly to Miria’s arm, the right one shaking miserably, while she tried to comfort him and keep him calm.

“They warned us about this, when I was training to be a creche teacher.” Miria breathed. “When we took the children swimming, if anyone went under for a while… sometimes fluid can get in the lungs and irritate them. It causes them to fill with liquid.” She gestured to the mouthful Crosshair had already coughed up, lowering her head to listen to his chest again. “That’s what his chest sounds like.”

Crosshair huffed and coughed again, a reddish splatter showing inside the mask. “How the fuck… do I drown if… I’m not in the water?” He rasped.

“Stop talking. It’s making your oxygen level drop.” Miria scolded gently. “We need a diuretic to clear up the fluid and stop his lungs from making more until the irritation is gone. That’s not kept in a standard med pack.”

“Echo? How far are we from Pabu?” Hunter called back, glancing at Miria. “AZI might have something.”

“Still a couple hours.” Echo responded.

Miria looked at her hands. She could try force healing, but she wasn’t sure if she could pull it off. If she messed something up, it could kill the love of her life… But if she didn’t, he might die in front of her anyway. “Come here, love.”

Crosshair was lethargic and nodded, tipping over slightly so his head rested on her shoulder. He kept clutching her hand, though his grip should have been stronger.

Miria was dimly aware of Omega, Wrecker, and Howser walking in as she wrapped Crosshair in her arms and put her hand on his chest. “Fuck are… you doing…” He mumbled.

“Quit fucking talking.” Rex huffed. “General told you twice.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, but looked up at his wife and kept panting. Every raspy breath hurt, like there was a grown bantha standing on his chest. Every cough felt like his sternum was going to rip open. He’d tried to get her attention when he realized it was getting bad, but she’d been curled up in a nightmare and he couldn’t raise his voice to call his brothers. Right before she’d woken up, he felt the panic set in that he was going die right next to her. He didn’t know what was worth, death or knowing she’d wake up and have to be the one to find him.

Everyone watched for an anxious couple of minutes, before Miria removed her hand from Crosshair’s chest and yanked a bucket from the supply shelf to her with the Force. In the same motion, she yanked the mask off the sniper’s face. Crosshair turned his head and immediately choked, bloody foam and fluid coming from his nose and mouth into the bucket. “Fuck…”

“That’ll only buy time.” Miria muttered, rubbing his back. “Until we can get to AZI.”

The rest of the clones looked anxiously at her as she replaced the mask and kept him sitting upright, Crosshair closing his eyes as he leaned against her. Already he could feel the pressure coming back into his lungs, and he had to cling to her to fight the panic rising. “Feels just like drowning…” He mumbled. Just like when he’d been fighting the clone assassin, held underwater with his helmet off, before Miria and Howser came to save him.

The bastard was still trying to kill him, even though he’d gone over the falls.

Miria pressed her forehead against his. “I’ve got you, my darling. I promise.” He wasn’t getting enough air, even with the mask. Her fingers touched his cheeks and he closed his eyes. “You trust me, right?”

Crosshair just nodded with another cough.

“Good.” He felt a quick prick in the side of his neck and opened his eyes. There was an empty syringe in her hand, and he squinted at her with confusion. “.... did you just… drug me…?”

“I’m going to have to intubate you, and try suction. You aren’t going to want to be awake for it.” She kissed his forehead. “Ni kartayli gar darasuum.”

He kept squinting, going slowly limp until she lay him down on the floor and he blacked out. The rest of the clones watched as the little General pulled the mask off Crosshair and grabbed the med kit. She tilted his head back and got a trach tube down his throat.

Omega dropped to her knees beside her. “What do you need?”

“Catheter and an empty syringe. We can try to suction out some of the fluid.” She pulled the face piece off the ox mask and affixed it to the trach to directly get air into her husband’s lungs. “You were Nala Se’s lab assistant. Can you do that?”

“I can.” Omega nodded, and the two girls got to work saving Crosshair. Again. They’d always save Crosshair, every chance they got, just like they’d saved him from the Empire.

“You okay, Miri?” Omega whispered.

“I’ll fall apart once he’s safe.” The Jedi swallowed hard. “Until then, just… keep me going. Please. I need you, little one.” Omega had told her so many times she needed Miria, but Miria needed her now and she hoped it wasn’t too much pressure on the girl. She needed Omega like she’d needed her on Tantiss, the only spark of sunshine in her lonely and painful existence there.

Omega nodded, understanding, as she pulled another syringe full of blood and water from Crosshair’s lungs. “Tell me about your first date.”

“It wasn’t even a date. We went to a gala neither of us wanted to attend-”

Crosshair woke up warm, feeling like he’d been kicked in the chest directly off a cliff. At least the bed was comfortable. He opened his eyes slowly, looking around his room in his in-laws house. “Greetings, CT-9904. You suffered pulmonary edema, and were brought in yesterday morning under sedation by General Halcyon. You have had a diuretic administered and have been under observation for over a standard cycle. You have had no significant drops in oxygen saturation since you were taken off of ventilation.”

“Thanks. Go away.” He rasped, waving the droid to leave. Hearing his CT number still made a chill ran down his spine, and if he was fine he wanted the droid to go away before it started asking about his hand. He’d been avoiding dealing with it, preferring to spend his time with rebuilding the life he’d nearly destroyed out of stubbornness. The longer he was here, with the Batch, Mayrin, and the Halcyons, the more he realized he could have been there all along. That returning to the Empire after Kamino had been the biggest mistake of his life. If he’d gotten on the Marauder when Miria had begged him to, she’d have taken them all to the farm and hidden them safely. Maybe they’d even have found Pabu eventually. There would have been no 32 days on a platform, no Tawni Ames and Cody deserting, no Barton 4 or Mayday, no Tantiss, no torture, and no attempt to find him on Eriadu… He thought about it constantly, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, every time he felt Tech’s absence and couldn't understand why the woman he loved still loved him after all he’d done. He’d ruined her life…

And she was right there. As AZI left the room, Crosshair turned his attention to the head of long black hair laying on a pair of folded arms on the side of the bed. Miria was sitting in a chair she’d taken from the kitchen table, asleep by his side as she waited for him to wake. How many times had this scene played out, usually in reverse, during the war? He’d fallen asleep beside a lot of med bay gurneys, his brothers coming in to sit for a while and cover for his concern as if it weren’t more than a friend and comrade’s for their general. As if he wasn’t hopelessly in love with the tiny Jedi Master who kept taking swings at things ten times her size for the sake of someone else.

There were a lot of differences between the woman he’d turned his back on, on that platform, and the woman he’d married just a few weeks ago. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was also just the same. Miria Halcyon had always been the kind to fight to the death for the people she loved, putting her body between them and the thing that threatened. She never should have been surprised she ended up in beskar.

He reached out and put his hand on top of her hair. His throat was sore from all the coughing and tubes, but he managed. He wanted to hear her voice. “Miria? Cyare, wake up.”

She stirred, arms shifting as she rubbed her face into the blanket under them. She’d stripped off her armor but was still in her flight suit. “Mn… Crosshair? Darling, you’re awake?” She turned her head so he could see her profile, and smiled at him tiredly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep myself. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. The droid cleared me.” He let her grasp his hand. “Would have been a lot worse off without you.”

“I should have noticed sooner. Blasted nightmare…” She grumbled, sitting up so she could check him over properly.

“You still sound like you did when I got shot on Salucemi.” He chuckled tiredly. “First mission after we got together.”

Miria smiled faintly, kissing his knuckles. “And I’ve only come to love you more since then.”

Crosshair smiled, scooting over. “C’mere.”

She happily kicked off her boots and climbed into the bed, tucking herself next to him and curling against his chest. They needed to talk about what happened on Teth. They needed to talk about what he wasn’t saying regarding the clone assassins and Tantiss. They needed to find a way to protect Omega and Mayrin…

But right now, she needed to just listen to him breathing without that awful sound. She needed to close her eyes and know that he wasn’t slipping away, that nothing was trying to steal him from her again. She had to protect her girls, her family, but he was a part of that family and that had been too close.

Far too close.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #crosshair #star wars #fanfic #caught in the crosshairs

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

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A Deal With God

Not even a full drabble, just word vomit, but...I know Running Up That Hill is Max's song and we all know what it ties to, but I'm just thinking...post-S4 Steve hearing the song and almost throwing up because he feels it. He doesn't just hear the lyrics, he actually listens to them.

Steve has never been big on meaningful lyrics, he likes music, sure, but it's not like he listens to life-changing songs and ponders the meaning of each metaphor during his sleepless nights. He thinks music is a nice addition to life, it sets the mood, but he doesn't feel the depth because he can't concentrate hard enough. He can sing a few songs, usually ones about love, having a good time, so he never thinks he's missing something. Until that moment.

The song starts playing when he sits next to Max's bed, giving Lucas a brief break from waiting when (not if, he reminds himself, never if, only when) she wakes up. He watches her shallow breathing, in, out, as if she's just sleeping, the purple around her eyes slowly dissipating, when he hears the first notes. He needs so, so badly to shut the radio off, to avoid the memory, but he promised Lucas he'd be here and this is Max's lifeline, the song that already saved her once and would have done so again if people like Jason Carver (people like I used to be, the voice in his head added) didn't steal it away. So he just sits there and thinks it's just a few minutes, he can push through it, he can focus on something else, anything else...

And then he hears the lyrics, really hears them. And they make him feel sick. It's certain sections that freeze his insides with realization that someone created a song for this exact moment, for the pain he feels.

You don't want to hurt me But see how deep the bullet lies

He should be thinking about Max, but it's Eddie that comes to his mind. Eddie and his assurance that he's no hero, he's not going to risk it all, Eddie who decided last minute that the world without him would somehow hurt less. As if it was his job to take their pain away.

Tell me, we both matter, don't we?

Steve originally felt that it was just him, with the fear of being replaced, of this much cooler man stealing Dustin's attention away, but then he actually talked to Eddie and he thought, really thought that they understood each other. They both gave the kids something different, they were both needed, they could not be replaced because they worked the best together. So why? Why is he here alone, left to fill in a hole in their hearts that he could never hope to replace?

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God And I'd get him to swap our places

He thinks of Dustin's smaller frame, curled over Eddie's body, the heart wrenching sobs over the ghost of Eddie's final smile. About how much joy Eddie brought into Dustin's life, into the life of all his kids, while he was busy trying to date that inner emptiness away. And he gets it now, starts mouthing the lyrics over the song, the chorus, because if there was any possibility of a deal, any option to bring Eddie back to his found family...he'd do it. He thinks maybe the hole left behind him would be smaller, less special. Reaching God wasn't really in his power, but maybe Vecna could...

Steve just sits there and lets the song puncture his heart again and again and thinks: if this is what it takes to wake you up, Red, I'll listen to it, anything for you. But please, do it soon. I have a deal to make.

#I mean come on #The lyrics are perfect #I'm also sleepy and didn't proofread anything #Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Max Mayfield #Stranger Things #StrangerThings #Stranger things drabble #Strangerthingsdrabble #A bit of Steve actually being stupid at the end #Because he knows Upside Down can keep people alive for as long as needed #Billy and all that #And that Vecna consumes his victims #So Eddie is still there

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a-crumb-of-whump · 2 years

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A New Beginning #3: A Shopping Trip (Pt. 1)

Masterlist

Content: Vampire whumpee, human caretaker(s), multiple caretakers, blood (feeding), [mentioned] starvation, fear of being alone, [past] pet whump, self degration, [mentioned] beatings, [implied] broken bones, [mentioned] wounds/injuries.

I was gonna put it all in one chapter but that just seems excessive, so I'm gonna split it into two:)

It was hard waking up the next morning – much more than usual. For the first time in his life, Carlos had a room and a comfortable bed to call his own. Murphy was still curled up under his arm, softly snoring. Luca had moved up to his legs at some point and fallen asleep there; the vampire could feel her tail draped across his feet. He’d never felt so cosy and safe before.

When someone finally did come to find him later on in the morning, there was no yelling or banging on doors. No one shouted insults or threatened him in any way. Instead, Ryker gently knocked on the door and waited until he was given a small, tired whine in response before stepping inside with a fresh bowl of blood in his hands. Oh, and how good it smelled, too.

“G’mornin’,” the human greeted the moment they made eye contact. Carlos did nothing but blankly stare back up at him, already feeling slightly disoriented. Surely if it was a dream, it would have ended by now. He’d be back with his masters, being beaten and starved until he could barely move. So, maybe this was real after all? Shivering, he realised he wasn’t really sure how to feel about that.

But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it anyway, does it? He was always careful to remind himself of that. I am here to please, not to be pleased. Don’t ruin it for yourself now.

“You okay, man?”

The vampire was somewhat grateful to hear Ryker’s voice interrupting his thoughts. He blinked a few times in an attempt to pull himself back to reality; arms tightening around Murphy’s stomach to bring him a little closer. Perhaps if he had a real pet close by, they’d be careful enough to not hurt him too badly if he was bad.

Yeah, ‘cause that’s worked brilliantly in the past.

Eventually, Carlos managed to give the human a small nod. “Yes sir,” he mumbled tiredly, eyes already directing themselves towards the bowl in his hand. He licked lips a few times, having to hold himself back from reaching for it without permission. “Is that, uhm… more blood? For me?”

Ryker smiled. “Sure is. Wanna sit up a bit so you don’t make a mess?”

Carlos didn’t hesitate. It surprised him to see that his body was already healing better than it ever had before. He could sit up now without Ryker’s help, and there was significantly less cracking coming from his ribcage and neck where his master had beaten him all those months ago.

For the first time in what must have been centuries, he could confidently say that he was feeling okay.

“It’s good to see you’re already healing,” Ryker commented as he handed Carlos his bowl. The vampire immediately brought it to his lips and began to skull the entire thing, feeling a slight desperation in him that definitely hadn’t been there before the meal touched his lips. He spared a glance over at the human to show that he was listening, hoping that it was enough to keep away from a punishment. He was just so hungry. “Adam says you should be fully healed within a month if we keep feeding you regularly. Thankfully there’s two of us to work with, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Gonna get fed regularly?” Carlos repeated as soon as every drop of blood in the bowl was done. He politely handed it back to him, watching as the human reached over to place the bowl down on the bedside table. Then hesitated a moment before eventually following it up with, “how often is that gonna be?”

Please don’t think me ungrateful. Please don’t think me ungrateful. Please don’t think m-

“Once a day. Adam and I have agreed to take turns. Depending on how busy we are that day, you can either feed from our wrist or we’ll drain it into a mug or something for you.”

Carlos had completely stopped listening after the first sentence. They were gonna give him an entire meal? All to himself? They were willing to do that for him? He didn’t understand. He could go his entire life without ever eating again if they wanted him to, so why was this so important to them? Why was this so important to him? He’s starved before. He could keep going if they wanted him to.

But they don’t. That’s the point.

After a moment, he shakily held both his hands over his chest; a frown coming to his face as he looked back up at the human beside him. He could feel his chest beginning to tighten and his heart starting to beat a little faster, something that only ever involuntarily happened when he’d heard a piece of good news. He hated it.

The man jumped when he felt Ryker’s bigger hand resting on his shoulder. “You look scared,” he commented. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no.” Carlos shook his head. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to tell him what was bothering him or not. He didn’t want to get into trouble within less than twenty-four hours of arriving. Ryker had asked though, right? Which meant that it was okay? The last thing he wanted was for the human to think he was mad at him. He’d accidentally done that before. The punishment that followed was less than pleasant.

Reluctantly, he decided it was in his best interest to be open about it. “Uhm… s-sometimes I get these feelings in my chest and stomach. They come when someone tells me something good.” He looked over to examine the expression on Ryker’s face. So far so good. “My body starts feeling things and my chest gets tighter and- and it overwhelms me.” He let out a small whine. “It’s happening right now.”

“Sounds to me like you’re excited to be getting fed.”

“Excited?” Carlos blinked. That couldn’t be right. His masters had spent so long training him out of feeling emotions – there was no way he was already forgetting the things they taught him. He couldn’t. He had to be good. What if his previous masters were to see him right now? They’d be so ashamed. “Th-then I must be broken. Good pets don’t feel emotions, and I need to be good. Can you fix me somehow?” he asked shakily. “Please?”

Instead of being praised for wanting to be better, Carlos was surprised to see a pitiful frown curved on Ryker’s face. Why? Why the frown? He was trying to be good. He was trying. Why was this so difficult?

“There’s nothing to fix, bud. Feeling things is completely natural," the human assured him. The hand that was originally on his bony shoulder had moved to his back, while his free hand cupped both Carlos’ hands, seemingly trying to calm him down. He didn’t realise how much he was struggling to breathe until it occurred to him that his chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace. That never happened unless he was out of breath from a beating or trying to walk. So why was it happening now? In front of his new owner, nonetheless? “It’s okay. Breathe. You’re allowed to be excited. You know humans couldn’t survive more than two months without food? That’s assuming they’ve got plenty of water, too. You’ve gone several years at least. I’d be pretty fuckin’ ecstatic as well.”

Ryker was patient enough to sit with Carlos for over twenty minutes as he slowly relaxed again. He gently rubbed his back and coaxed him into taking deep breaths, even going so far as to grab one of Adam’s plushies from his room for him to hold and squish as needed. No one had ever taken care of him the way this human was so determined to do so, and it made him wonder what Ryker’s motives were. What he had planned for him once he was fully healed. There had to be something he wasn’t thinking of.

Though in the end, he decided it was best he didn’t dwell too much on it. If his new owner wanted to treat him kindly, then he was well within his rights to do so.

Even if Carlos didn’t understand why.

It was made apparent as soon Carlos finally emerged from his bedroom with Ryker holding him up that Adam was not the morning person of the two. He was still in the same sweater and pants that he’d gone to bed in, and his hair was an utter mess; strands of it poking in every direction and draped in front of his half-lidded eyes. As soon as he saw the vampire, however, he lit up and smiled from behind his mug of coffee.

“Hey, man,” he greeted warmly. “Sleep well?”

Carlos nodded. “Yes sir. I- I much enjoyed sleeping with the, uhm- the animals. Thank you.” He gave a little bow as a sign of respect. Had he been on his hands and knees, he’d have pressed his face into the floor and kissed their feet, but they didn’t seem to appreciate that as much as his other owners did. He truly had no idea how to behave now that he lived here. How long would it be before he messed up? How long before he upset them enough that they punished him?

“That’s good to hear. Here; you wanna sit down?” the man asked, already pulling out one of the chairs from the dining table for him to use. Carlos lit up some at the offer. It had been so long since he’d been allowed to sit with the humans.

“Really? I get to sit with you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

So, the vampire obediently sat down in the chair Adam had pulled out for him, watching as the man sat down beside him and not long after, Ryker too. He now also had a cup of coffee in his hands, but it was a lot lighter coloured than Adam’s. A part of him wondered why, but he didn’t dare ask.

After some time spent in silence, Adam began to talk. “So, Carlos; we were thinking it might be best to take a trip into town today to get you some new clothes for you. That and some stuff to keep you entertained while we’re at work, as we both go back on Monday. Would you like to come with us?”

“N-now?” He didn’t want the sun. He didn’t want it. Please, I’ll do anything else.

Ryker frowned, reaching out the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his coffee mug to squeeze Carlos’ shoulder again. “No, no. Of course not. He meant tonight, when it’s dark. There’s a mall about fifteen minutes away that we’ll go to. It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Oh.”

“I know I said I'd go down myself, but I want to make sure you've got stuff you actually like. You could even have a shower or a bath before we leave, if you wanna?" Adam chimed in. "If you do, you’ll be able to try some clothes on at the store to make sure they fit properly.”

“A bath?” Carlos tilted his head, choosing not to say what he was thinking out loud. “W-with the bubbles and the rubber ducks?”

“Well, we don’t have any rubber ducks I’m afraid, but we do have plenty of bubble soap and bath bombs for you to play with.”

It was Carlos’ turn to frown, mirroring Ryker’s one from before. Bath bombs? Bombs for baths? Did that mean they were going to… explode? He wasn’t sure that sounded like much fun at all. Nonetheless, he forced himself to silently accept the offer with a nod. He guessed he’d find out soon.

As soon as they were both done with their coffee, Adam took their cups and put them inside the machine that cleaned all their dishes while Ryker slowly escorted him to the bathroom. He was still finding it rather difficult to walk, but the human seemed to be okay with that, being he constantly walked at the same pace to make sure Carlos wasn’t left behind, and whispered gentle words of encouragement and praise the entire way. He even went out of his way to lift the vampire onto the bathroom counter before running the bath just to make sure he wasn’t on his feet for longer than he needed to be. It was an incredibly foreign feeling, being cared for in such a way.

“Uhm, s-sir?” he eventually found it in him to whisper. Ryker immediately looked up from the tub at the sound of his voice, both eyebrows raised to show he was listening. “I’m not… uhm, I d-don’t really know how to take a bath. I was usually j-just hosed down outside.”

“That’s okay,” the human assured him. He paused for a moment, reaching over to turn the water off again before wiping his wet hands on his jeans. Carlos thought he saw him clench his fists for a moment, but it didn’t last long. “If you’d prefer, I’m happy to stay and help you? It’s super easy once you know what to do.”

It took some hesitation before Carlos found it in him to nod. He figured he had no choice in it anyway, but Ryker had been nice enough so far, right? So maybe it would all be okay. After all, there was no way he was going to succeed at cleaning himself. He had no idea how to, and it took far too much energy. With that being said, he did want to be clean. He wanted to know what it was like to not be covered in grime and dirt and blood after so many years of not being allowed to—

—and maybe if he was good enough, Ryker would hold off on hurting him just this once. Maybe he would give him the chance to feel clean and good one more time before he got sick of being nice to him, too.

He couldn’t help but feel his lips curving into a little smile at the thought. Yeah. That would be nice.

Ryker was kind enough to turn away as Carlos got undressed. He placed everything in the washing basket beside the sink like the human had asked him to before tentatively tapping him on the shoulder to gain his attention.

“Do you think you could help me get in?” he whispered, already feeling the heat rising to his cheeks when Ryker turned around to look at him. It’s okay. It isn’t the first time someone’s seen you naked. Just suck it up and get it over with.

The man smiled, reaching out to take him by the hand. “Yeah, sure. Baths can get really slippery when there’s water in them, unfortunately. So can showers, but it’ll be a lot easier for you to do on your own once you’ve healed some more.” Once he had a firm grip on him, Carlos began to carefully step inside; his body involuntarily jumping slightly as soon as he felt the warm water on his skin. “Let me know if I need to cool it down for you.”

It was such a nice feeling- the water on his battered and scarred skin. The moment he was able to, he knelt down and got comfortable inside the tub, feeling the water already starting to wash away the grime that had been stuck to his body for months. It was far better than being hosed down with the nozzle on ‘jet’, he thought. He shivered simply thinking about it. Sometimes he thought he could still feel the water aggressively spraying him, even after it was long over.

“There we go,” the human murmured once Carlos was finally situated and comfortable. He ran a gentle hand through the man’s grimy hair before crouching down beside the tub so they were at eye level with each other again. “We’ll get you all cleaned up and then once that’s done, I’ll replace the water and you can play with the bath bombs and the bubbles until you’re ready to get out again. Sound good?”

Carlos nodded, already feeling his mind wander back to the bubbles surrounding him. He smiled a little and began to scoop some up into his hands, curious as to what they looked like up close.

“They’re so cool,” he whispered. “I’ve always wanted to play with bubbles…”

“The best ones are the ones in the little plastic bottles.”

The vampire suddenly gasped excitedly. “I remember those! Master used to get them for you sometimes!”

“Yeah,” Ryker grinned. “My parents bought me bubbles all the time. I wish I could have taken you with me to play with them. Though my friend has a kid; I’m sure she has a little bottle or two back at her place. Maybe I’ll bring some back with me for you sometime.”

“Really?” Carlos could feel himself getting increasingly excited by the minute. “Can I… take Murphy with me? So I’m not alone?”

Ryker nodded, reaching up to ruffle the vampire’s hair again. “We’ll all be there, bud. You don’t have to worry about being alone again. I promise.”

For once, Carlos tried his hardest to believe the human’s words.

He really, really didn’t want to be alone again.

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-blog @emcscared-whumps @pigeonwhumps @sacredwrath @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump scenarios #whump thoughts #whump tropes #whumpee #caretaker #multiple caretakers #whump writing #vampire whumpee

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