#I have woken up and chosen violence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flurrys-creativity · 6 months

Text

Warrior

Pairing: Choi San (Ateez) x Fem!OC Yeong-Ja; Genre: Joseon AU, Historical AU, Fantasy, Shifter AU, Werewolf AU, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, fluff, SMUT; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: concubines, hints of misogyny, somewhat sold off, inaccurate historical stuff, San from his special performance warrior video including the tattoos, shifter San with a very demanding inner wolf, mentions of sex, getting a tattoo the old style (which is probably inaccurate as well), mentions of uproars, death (minor ocs), san murdering them, graphic violence, graphic description of injuries, san being chained to his bed, SMUT -> rough sex, unprotected sex, marking, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, several positions, breeding kink, knotting, mating, pet names, mentions of softer sex; Wordcount: 11.482

Summary: Every time emperor San won a battle against foreign forces he got gifted another concubine - another person, who’d be scared of him. Though when he met the newest addition in his palace, he realised Yeong-Ja was everything but scared.

A/N: Ever since that special performance video of Warriors by San came out, I'm a changed person!! I wrote this chonky one within one weekend while playing the video on loop.

Yeong-Ja got ushered into a room by several servants, who told her to stay there until the emperor would arrive. Before she could even ask when that would be the door got shut right in front of her nose, leaving her alone.

With a heavy sigh Yeong-Ja turned around and took a closer look at the room in front of her. While it definitely appeared luxurious - the room was basically as big as her old home - but except for a large bed there wasn’t much inside the room. It didn’t even have windows. There was only another sliding door, which probably led to the private quarters of the emperor.

Yeong-Ja stood in the middle of the room unsure what she was supposed to do besides waiting for the emperor. Should she stand somewhere specific or sit on the bed? She knew what was expected of her yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact she had become a concubine in the span of only a few hours.

That morning Yeong-Ja had woken up and gone out to town since the market was open and she had hoped to buy a few things for her family. So while she bargained with one of the sellers, she got approached by a tall man in fancy clothes.

“Excuse me”, he said with an awkward smile, “I’d like to have a conversation with someone, who speaks for you.”

Yeong-Ja raised an eyebrow, forgetting the little quarrel with the seller as she turned towards the man and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m able to speak for myself, sir.”

A twinkle in his eyes and the soft chuckle revealed his amusement even after he focused himself again with a short shake of his head. “I’d still like to inform your husband or any kind of relative that you’re chosen to become a concubine.”

For a split second everything around Yeong-Ja stopped. She stared at the stranger with wide eyes, needing several seconds to register what he just said. Once the heaviness of the message fought through and settled into her mind, her whole world started to crumble. She nodded almost mechanically as she asked the man to follow her, cutting her time at the market short.

Even when she brought him to his parents and sat beside them in the small dining area, somewhat listening to the words he had to say, her thoughts had travelled to a different place. While Yeong-Ja wasn’t the only woman at her age unmarried, it was rather uncommon. Her headstrong attitude and the fact she came from a poorer family were the reasons why she hadn’t been married yet. Though it hadn’t been a problem in her family, Yeong-Ja was incredibly thankful for that since she loved her independence.

“If you want to take something with you, Miss Yeong-Ja, now would be the time to get it.” The stranger, who had himself introduced as Park Seonghwa the head counsellor of the emperor, looked at her. A hint of pity and understanding swirling in his dark eyes.

Her mother had followed her to the sleeping area, laying a hand on her shoulder. She had tears in her eyes as she pulled her daughter into her arms. “You’ll have a better life at the palace”, she whispered and caressed the back of the younger woman. “Please take this with you.” With that her mother let go of her and walked over to a small cabinet. She pulled a box out from the farthest end and turned back to Yeong-Ja. “This was a gift from your great grandfather to your great grandmother. It’s supposed to be a lucky item. Wear it to receive the blessings -” she swallowed the lump inside her throat, her voice sounding choked up - “and to remember us.”

Yeong-Ja hiccuped as she accepted the gift with trembling fingers. She looked down at the fine silver necklace in her hands, seeing one turquoise stone added as a pendant. She closed her hands and clutched them against her chest, whispering her thanks while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Now inside the luxurious bedroom Yeong-Ja fumbled with the dozens of layers of clothes to reach for the pendant. She wrapped her fingers around the turquoise and felt the calm energy spreading throughout her body. With no way back she could only look ahead.

She noticed a bowl of water and several towels on a nightstand close to the bed. Yeong-Ja walked closer to the bowl, leaning over it and staring at her own reflection. She barely recognised herself and a frown appeared on her features.

That ghost-like face looking back at her wasn’t the woman she wanted to be. While the make-up looked magnificent and had been applied with the utmost care by the servants, Yeong-Ja couldn’t help herself but to hate it. She knew noble women liked to appear paler to show they didn’t work on fields in the sun, but Yeong-Ja was born and raised on such fields. She had a natural tan skin and any other colour made her look sick.

Without a second thought Yeong-Ja pushed the fabrics up her arms and dunked her hands into the bowl, cupping them and splashing water into her face. She rubbed her face meticulously and hoped to get rid of all the white make-up plastered on her skin.

Once she deemed her face clean, Yeong-Ja grabbed a towel and patted her skin dry. Her face already felt much lighter without all the make-up. Although the minute Yeong-Ja looked down at her body and saw all the layers of fancy fabric she felt like a fool again. Her face didn’t match this dress anymore. Yeong-Ja pursed her lips and brushed the sleeves of the fabric back down, feeling uncomfortable in all these layers. The young woman looked over her shoulder to the two closed doors, contemplating whether she should risk it and change or just stay put.

She swallowed and tried to listen intently to the sounds outside of the room. When she wasn’t able to pick up any words or steps, she decided to take the risk.

Yeong-Ja fumbled with the fabrics and the knots that held everything in place. It took her every ounce of self control to stay patient and not rip everything apart. Once she finally got rid of every layer and only stood in the finest silk underwear in the middle of the room, Yeong-Ja thought she was able to breathe again.

She bent down and started folding all the fabrics, placing them neatly in front of the nightstand. Yeong-Ja only kept the outer piece and a few pins. She draped the fabric over her body and secured it with the pins.

When Yeong-Ja was brought into the bedroom, the emperor - Choi San - arrived at the throne room. He barely kept the sigh inside his lungs when he saw Seonghwa waiting for him.

“Another victory, huh?” Seonghwa stepped next to San, trying to contain his grin. He could read San like a book and knew how annoyed his emperor was already.

“Which means another concubine.” San plopped down on the throne. He pushed his hair back with his hand before he fixed his eyes on the older man. “Why is the court getting a concubine every time I come back from a battle? They’re running away in the end.”

“Now, now. You make it out as if every concubine has fled so far. You still have a thriving harem, San.”

San only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, resting his chin on his hand. “Anything else I should know before I tell the servants to bring the new concubine to their quarters?” San only wanted to get a bath in peace, wanted to wash off all the grime and blood from the battlefield. He needed to rest and regain his strength again. San had used almost all of his power to keep the intruders in check and only with the help of his wolf was he able to overpower them.

“This one is different. Take at least a look at her.”

San zoned back into the conversation and shook his head. Whatever Seonghwa had told him just now, San only heard the last two sentences. He grimaced but decided to wave it off for now. With a dismissive hand gesture San got up from the throne and walked to the hidden door behind it. “I’ll think about it”, he told Seonghwa before he bid his goodbye and followed the wooden path towards his private quarters.

A servant rushed to his side, offering their assistance. They nodded in understanding with each order - preparing a bath and bringing the new concubine to their quarters - they received.

San opened the door to his private bedroom and closed it right behind him again. He trotted towards the bathroom and started stripping out of his clothes, which needed to be washed as well.

A sudden scream followed by frantic yelling, interrupted San in his undressing. Without regard to his appearance the emperor rushed towards the disturbance. He slammed the door to the concubine bedroom open and hurriedly stepped inside, his eyes jumping from corner to corner. San was ready to fight but except for a servant and a woman he never saw before he couldn’t sense any danger. “Wha-”

“I am so sorry, my emperor. I didn’t mean to disturb you with my yelling. I just wanted to take the concubine to her quarters when I saw what she did.” The servant bowed deeply as they apologised over and over again.

“Please”, San only said in a stern voice, successfully shutting up the servant. He looked around the room again, trying to understand what the servant meant. He inhaled deeply when a sudden wave hit his senses.

‘Smells good’, his wolf hummed, forcing San to inhale again. He even closed his eyes, focusing solely on the sweet scent invading his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they immediately landed on the new concubine.

Yeong-Ja had crossed her arms in front of her chest. She felt embarrassed for screaming when the servant tapped her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed them coming into the room and yelped in surprise from the sudden touch. Yeong-Ja also felt embarrassed for being scolded so harshly. While she had expected to get scolded, she had pictured it to be the emperor himself.

Her eyes fell on the man who had entered the room as well. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks when Yeong-Ja saw the half-naked form of him. Involuntarily her eyes wandered over his toned upper body and well defined muscles. She took the tattoos adorning his body in as well, fascinated by the intricate painting of a wolf’s head on his left pec.

As her eyes continued to wander over his body she finally reached his face. The air inside her lungs nearly got stuck when Yeong-Ja saw the intense gaze on her. She locked eyes with him and the feeling of being a small prey spread throughout her whole body.

San glanced at the servant, telling them they were dismissed, before his eyes landed on the new concubine again.

His wolf rumbled inside of him, growling something about having found their mate. He eagerly wanted to cross the distance and get to the woman, wanted to touch her, smell her, scent her, take her and most importantly breed her.

San’s fingers twitched as he fought to keep control over his own body. Seonghwa’s words played in his mind again, while San stared at the woman in front of him. He noticed how she wasn’t turned into a doll-like human like all the other concubines before her. He also noticed how the clothes around her body weren’t as neatly placed.

‘Easier access’, his wolf nearly howled, keen with the choices that were made.

Yeong-Ja could have sworn she was on fire from the intensity of his gaze but at the same time one ice cold shiver after another ran down her spine. She could feel her heart pounding inside of her ribcage.

“May I know your name?”

The soft voice of the emperor - even though it sounded slightly strangled - surprised Yeong-Ja. She would love to simply listen to him all day, every day. “Yeong-Ja”, she introduced herself, bowing slightly in hopes it was enough courtesy towards the emperor.

San repeated her name, same as his inner wolf, getting a feeling of it on his tongue. “That is a beautiful name”, he complimented her as he suppressed another attempt of his wolf to pounce on her. “Have you been waiting for a long time?”

Yeong-Ja blinked several times, thinking about the question. She wasn’t even sure whether she could answer it or not. Without any windows Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to see how high the sun was and therefore unable to tell the time. Yet she knew it had been enough time for her to change her appearance. “Long enough to wash my face and dress differently.”

San’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an answer and most importantly he hadn’t expected that she took the liberty to change her looks, disregarding everything the servants must have prepared for him. Before San could control himself, he let out a loud laugh. San held his stomach as he leaned back from the force of his laughter. The mental picture of the frustration from his servants and her just undoing everything that has been made, just got to him.

Yeong-Ja observed him silently, a small smile playing over her lips upon noticing the dimples on his face when he grinned brightly.

Once San calmed down again, he wiped the corner of his eyes. He still grinned, the amusement apparent in his voice as well. “Make yourself comfortable in this room. If you’re in need of anything don’t hesitate to call for a servant.”

Yeong-Ja nodded slowly, trying to hide the confusion that filled her thoughts. She thought the emperor would want her to undress and get on the bed so she could please him. Therefore she hadn’t expected something like this.

“I’d like to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning. Is that alright with you?” San ignored the warning growls from his wolf, telling him to stay with her. But San wanted to be a little more careful with her. He hoped by getting to know her first and taking it slow, Yeong-Ja might not fear him like most of the other concubines. And most importantly she hopefully wouldn’t run away.

Yeong-Ja had to remind herself of keeping it together and actually answer the emperor. Everything she witnessed from him so far contradicted all the rumours surrounding him. It was a miracle that she wasn’t too stunned to speak with him. “It would be a pleasure.”

San smiled and nodded shortly, before he bid his goodbye and walked back into his private chambers. Much to the dismay of his inner wolf.

Over the next weeks San ordered to bring more furniture into the concubine’s bedroom. While he could have admitted Yeong-Ja to the special quarters for the concubine instead of the regular ones, his inner wolf insisted to have her as close as possible - and if sharing a bed wasn’t an option yet it had to be the room right next door.

Yeong-Ja still didn’t know how to properly act around the emperor. He was sweet towards her during the day and made sure every wish she could possibly have was fulfilled as fast as possible but he never called her for the purpose she was brought into the palace.

At night she would lie awake in the large bed, staring up at the ceiling, which she barely saw with the small night light on the stand next to the bed. At first Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to sleep because she constantly stayed on edge, expecting to be called for her duty at any moment. Though when it didn’t happen her thoughts started to tear her apart from the inside. She couldn’t understand why San never came to her at night, why he always kept his distance even when they met.

Yeong-Ja couldn’t possibly know how much he suffered from not being close to her. His wolf rioted every chance possible - especially at night. A time where he wanted to take his mate and nothing else.

San writhed in pain, trying to keep his cool. Yet the hard on he sported in his loose pants throbbed painfully. No amount of masturbating helped him and it slowly but surely drove him insane.

‘Go to her.’ His wolf whispered, the sly smirk prominent in his voice. ‘She’ll take care of us.’

“No”, San grunted breathlessly. He pushed himself up and walked over to the door. San stood in front of it, his whole body trembling as he fought with himself. It took all of his will power to go through the other door.

He walked up to the concubine quarters. San needed a release and he couldn’t care less about who he had to fuck for that. As long as it meant he wouldn’t harm Yeong-Ja.

The woman struggled to fall asleep again. Therefore she decided to go for a short walk. She followed the wooden path to the centre of the palace, where she found a small koi pond and some greenery. Yeong-Ja sat down on the stairs that led down to the pond and stared at the water. The light of the flames from the lanterns around her reflected on the surface, almost dancing to a melody she wasn’t able to hear.

When she heard the sudden movements to her right, she cowered behind the handrail, hoping to stay hidden from whoever walked past in the middle of the night.

San pushed the concubine towards the special quarters since he couldn’t use the bedroom anymore. He got impatient with her stumbling and irritated with his wolf wanting to go somewhere else. Hopefully it would die down the second he stepped into the quarters with that concubine.

Yeong-Ja watched them silently, a lump forming inside her stomach when she recognised San with another woman. She wondered what this woman had that she didn’t have. Her shoulders hung down and she couldn’t contain the sigh that spilled past her lips. While being with the emperor had its perks, she still felt out of place. No matter how many tea ceremonies, breakfasts or evening walks she would have with him, Yeong-Ja still thought there had to be something wrong with her as she seemed to be the only concubine that wasn’t used for her original purpose.

Yeong-Ja winced when she heard the faint cries of pleasure. Swallowing the building lump in her throat she decided to go for a longer walk. There was no way she could just sit there and listen, nor could she go back to her chamber that was located right next to them.

On silent soles the young woman moved over the bridge of the pond and up the stairs towards the throne hall. She hoped the door behind the throne would be open, so she could sneak past. Even though she knew she’d be stopped at the main gate, she had a slimmer of hope within her.

“Miss Yeong-Ja?”

She squeaked and slightly jumped on the spot, her hand hovering above the handle for the sliding door to the throne hall. Yeong-Ja’s head turned almost mechanically to her left, where she saw Seonghwa.

He looked at her with concern written all over his face. Ever so carefully he stepped towards her, fearing she might bolt if he made too hasty movements. “Is everything alright?”

Yeong-Ja winced again, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. “I just wanted to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Seonghwa finally reached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head, exploring her face in detail. His attention momentarily faltered when he heard the outcry from the special room. Understanding dawned on his features as his attention returned to the woman in front of him. “May I accompany you, Miss Yeong-Ja?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, a small smile playing over her features when she saw his awkward grin. “Can we leave the palace grounds for a while?” She asked hopefully, needing some distance to clear her thoughts.

“I’ll send for two guards to follow us”, Seonghwa confirmed and ushered her through the door. They crossed the throne room in silence and waited at the large entrance to the courtyard for two guards to join you.

For a while the silence continued as they walked through the streets of the upper town. Though as if Seonghwa was able to read her mind, he spoke up again: “Something is troubling you.”

Yeong-Ja sighed deeply, tilting her head back and looking up into the dark sky. “Is there something wrong with me?” She didn’t dare to look at Seonghwa, fearing his answer for some reason.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, observing her closely. “Why would there something be wrong with you?”

She shrugged with her shoulders, looking back down to the ground again. “It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this”, she confessed, her voice so soft nobody else but Seonghwa could hear her. “I just feel like the emperor doesn’t want me like he wants the other concubines. I’m not even sharing the same quarters with them.”

Seonghwa placed his hand on her shoulder again, chuckling softly. “I’m sure it is quite the opposite, dear.”

Yeong-Ja raised her head and looked at Seonghwa in confusion, a frown adorning her features while she tried to understand what the counsellor meant. “If the emperor wants me why wouldn’t he come to me at night?”

“That is something you should ask him yourself”, Seonghwa answered ominously, halting in his steps and turning around.

Yeong-Ja followed his example, still confused about what he was hinting at. She noticed him staring ahead and followed his gaze.

Her eyes widened in surprise when they locked with San’s, who stood breathing heavily in the middle of the street before them.

When she had left the palace, San had stopped mid-thrust. ‘She’s leaving!’ San’s eyes widened in panic when he realised his wolf was right and the scent of Yeong-Ja grew more distant. San growled almost animalistically as he pushed himself away from the concubine. “Go back to your chambers”, he ordered before he rushed out of the room.

He hurried to her bedroom first, needing to confirm what his instincts and sense of smell told him with his own two eyes. San momentarily stopped in front of her door, making himself presentable before he entered. His heartbeat accelerated when he didn’t see her inside the room.

‘Follow her!’ His wolf snarled and pulled San back.

The emperor barely snapped out of this, keeping control over his own body, as he ran towards the main gates. He ignored the questioning looks from the guards and only continued to run through the streets. San followed his nose for the most part but his eyes still frantically scanned his surroundings, making sure he wouldn’t miss her.

He stopped upon finding her - together with Seonghwa, who had a hand placed on her shoulder. San breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving from the sprint he just did. His eyes jumped between Yeong-Ja and Seonghwa, trying to figure out what was going on while his wolf wanted nothing but to rip Seonghwa’s hand off.

Seonghwa bowed slightly towards San and then turned back to Yeong-Ja. “I’ll leave you in his care now.” He smiled knowingly and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before stepping away.

Yeong-Ja looked puzzled. Instead of finding answers to her questions, she only had more questions inside her head now. Once Seonghwa was out of her sight, her eyes landed on San. Uncertainty wafted off of her in waves and even San could sense it without his inner wolf telling him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked carefully, eyes exploring her expression. San feared she had attempted to escape and only got stopped by Seonghwa.

Yeong-Ja crossed her arms in front of her chest, slightly hugging her upper body even. “I just needed to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes!” She snapped, before looking away in embarrassment. “In the middle of the night”, she added more softly, “I needed to clear my head.”

San stepped closer - at least a little. “Is there something bothering you?” He tried to even his breathing, even though the fear inside of him made him want to gasp for air. His thoughts swirled around his head and the whining of his wolf to move closer didn’t help either to stay level headed.

Yeong-Ja watched him. She saw the fear in his eyes, saw him struggle and fight with himself but she didn’t understand why. She tightened the hold around her upper body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“What?”

She was about to repeat herself, when San interrupted her: “No! Why would you think that? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re beautiful just the way you are!”

“And yet you always keep your distance.” Yeong-Ja mumbled to herself without knowing San’s heightened senses still picked up on her words.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” San groaned and pressed his face into his hands, before running them through his hair. “I keep my distance because I don’t want to frighten or hurt you.”

Yeong-Ja looked up at him through her eyelashes, gnawing on her lower lip as she contemplated her next question.

San’s wolf begged him to cross the distance and scoop her up in his arms; begged him to litter her in kisses but San stayed put. He wanted to wait; wanted to hear what she had to say.

“So could we have a tea ceremony where you won’t sit across the room and far away from me?” The wavering in her otherwise hopeful voice was heartbreaking.

“If that is what you wish for”, San agreed with a nod, never moving his eyes away from her. He didn’t dare to let her out of his sight for even a second. “Let us do that then. Tomorrow. After a good night’s rest.”

Yeong-Ja nodded shortly. She still felt uncertain around him but having him agree on being closer felt like a small step in the right direction. The young woman walked over to San - momentarily surprised he didn’t step back, but incredibly pleased he followed through with his words already. “Then we should head back again.”

“Yes”, San breathed out and walked next to you. Relief washed over his whole body once he realised she hadn’t tried running away and was even willing to go back with him. He definitely had to work harder to keep Yeong-Ja by his side - even if it meant torturing himself.

San sat in the middle of his private chamber. He had his eyes closed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the close proximity he was about to have with Yeong-Ja.

Behind him the tattoo artist prepared his utensils to create another mark on the emperor’s body. Hongjoong created every art piece on San’s skin and it hadn’t surprised him to be called again. He placed the small bowl with black ink to his right on a cloth of linen. Next to the bowl he kept the needles and a wooden piece he used as a hammer. To his left Hongjoong had placed a larger bowl of water and several towels.

“Everything has been prepared. We can start now.”

San raised one hand, halting the artist in his movements. “Please wait a moment. I’m expecting someone to join us.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he stared at the back of the emperor’s head. So far each tattoo session has always been just them. He leaned back on his feet, placing his hands on his thighs to wait.

A servant announced their arrival, requesting to open the door and let Yeong-Ja inside.

Yeong-Ja played with the fingers of her hands behind her back. She stepped inside once the sliding door got opened enough for her to walk in. To her surprise the door got closed behind her right away. For a second it felt like a deja vu but when she turned her head and looked into the room, she noticed the two men sitting on the floor.

Just like during the first night San only wore some pants, revealing his bare chest and arms. He looked up at her with a nervous smile. “I know this isn’t like our usual meetings”, he explained when he saw her tilting her head to the side and eyeing Hongjoong behind him. “Will you still join me?”

The woman nodded hesitantly and crossed the room to sit in front of San. She leaned a little to the side to get a better look at the second man, who nearly got devoured by San’s broad shoulders.

“That’s Kim Hongjoong”, San told her, successfully getting her attention back on him. “He did all of my tattoos and will do another today.” San momentarily looked over his shoulder and told Hongjoong to start now.

At the mention of his tattoos Yeong-Ja’s eyes dropped to his chest, staring at the large wolf tattoo. She mused Hongjoong to be a great artist if he was able to create such detail of a wolf’s head with nothing but black ink. “Do they have a meaning or are you just having them for aesthetic reasons?”

For a while only the slapping of the wood against Hongjoong’s fingers filled the room. San focused on the slight pain pulsating through his body to keep his wolf in check. The close proximity to her made his wolf run up the walls but he couldn’t let it be. “Some have meaning, others don’t”, he breathed out, his jaw clenching and hand twitching as his wolf made another attempt to reach out to her.

Yeong-Ja watched him silently, noticing how he tensed up and struggled to hold this conversation.

Even Hongjoong noticed the unusual behaviour of the emperor. He knew for a fact San didn’t react to the pain of the needle, so seeing him this tense surprised the artist.

Yeong-Ja turned her attention back to the artist while San continued breathing purposefully. “How are you creating these?”

Hongjoong momentarily halted in his movement to look up at the woman. A proud grin flashed over his feature before he continued to work and started explaining the process to her.

While his inner wolf got jealous and wanted to bring the focus back to them, San felt some sort of relief that he could deal with his wolf for a moment as she listened intently to the process of tattoo making from Hongjoong.

After what only felt like seconds but probably had been much longer Yeong-Ja looked back at San. She noticed how he had already been watching her, making the heat rise up to her cheeks. Yeong-Ja quickly dismissed the feeling and cleared her throat. “May I see how he’s doing it?”

San’s eyes widened but he nodded nonetheless. He silently watched how she got on her knees and crawled past his left side. She stopped right next to him, letting only her head be behind his body to watch the artist creating the tattoo. Yeong-Ja stayed on all fours as she watched, surprised at the mess she saw on his back.

Hongjoong grabbed one of the towels and dunked it into the water bowl before wiping it over the fresh tattoo.

“Oh”, Yeong-Ja gasped when all the residue ink got wiped away and revealed what the artist had created so far. “How can you see with all the ink and blood being in the way?”

“Memory and constant cleaning.” Hongjoong picked the needle and piece of wood back up into his hands. He dunked the tip of the needle into the black ink and placed it on San’s skin before he slapped the wood against his fingers and pricked the skin in the process.

Yeong-Ja’s hand involuntarily grabbed onto San’s hand that had rested on his lap. She watched the tattoo artist with wide eyes, her hand squeezing San’s with every slap of the wooden piece.

San had gone completely still, his heart nearly beating out of his chest while his wolf rumbled in satisfaction. The little electric shock waves that flowed through his body were so much stronger than the pain from the needle. He swallowed harshly and turned his head to look at her. His eyes roamed over her features and a soft smile spread over his lips. San turned his attention down to her hand and before he could get second thoughts he placed his free hand on hers and started rubbing his thumb over her delicate skin.

Yeong-Ja leaned back on her feet again, eyes now on San’s face. “Does it hurt?” She noticed how he had relaxed soon after she held his hand, she also realised - with a slight panic arising - how this was the first time she actually had skin to skin contact with San.

“Not anymore”, he answered softly, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb. “It’s reassuring even. To know I’ll soon have another mark on my skin that shows I’m fighting for my people.” San easily continued to speak about his tattoos and their meaning now, when she asked him to tell her more about them.

He would be laughing at himself, if it weren’t for the tattooing. San never expected that the simple contact with her skin was enough to keep his wolf somewhat satisfied and make him definitely easier to control. For weeks he battled inside of his mind with his wolf to take it slow. The constant suffering of being near her, having her scent and presence invade all of his senses without the possibility to act on it, turned San almost crazy. Yet, simple hand holding had been the solution all along.

“I’d like to have one as well”, Yeong-Ja announced suddenly, making both men freeze and stare at her with wide eyes.

Hongjoong was the first to break out of his stupor. “You want to have a tattoo?” He raised an eyebrow in question, looking at her and then at San before he looked back at her. “What would you want to get and where?”

Yeong-Ja’s eyes flicked to San, who still hadn’t moved, where she looked at the wolf tattoo shortly. Her eyes moved back up to San’s face, seeing how stunned he was with her statement.

San barely heard any of Hongjoong’s question as his heart hammered inside his chest and pumped his blood like a raging stream through his body.

Yeong-Ja bid down on her lower lip, feeling suddenly nervous with the way both men stared at her. “I’d like something that shows what I am. Something that shows I belong to the emperor.”

‘She wants us to mark her!’

San could feel his dick twitch from the image of marking her. The excitement his wolf felt washing over to himself as well. He had to fight to keep his thoughts clear, needing several minutes before he could even speak again. “You want my sigil on your body?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, still gnawing at her lower lip. She had thought of a wolf at first but the second San mentioned his sigil - the moon - she knew it was the perfect tattoo to show she belonged to him. “Would that be alright?” Yeong-Ja looked up at San through her eyelashes, nervous to get a rejection from him.

“Yes”, he breathed out, squeezing her hand gently. “Absolutely!” San turned his head to glance at Hongjoong. “Once you finish my tattoo, prepare everything to make another.”

Hongjoong agreed quietly and got back to work, finishing the tattoo soon after. He cleaned San’s back one last time before he stood up and called for a servant, requesting fresh towels and water. When he turned back around, his eyes landed on the woman. “Have you thought about where you want to get the tattoo?”

“Somewhere where I can see it, if I want to.” Yeong-Ja looked down at her body, wondering which part that would be. She lifted her arms and turned them, quickly deciding against them and looking further down her body. Her gaze momentarily flickered to San’s chest, thinking she could have the moon tattoo on her chest just like him, but she already squirmed at the thought of revealing her breasts. Finally Yeong-Ja’s gaze landed on her lap. “On my thigh?”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s a good choice for a first tattoo placement. It will hurt less.” He started to prepare everything again, thanking the servants that brought the things he requested.

San squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “Are you afraid?” He asked softly, tilting his head to one side.

“Not with your approval”, she answered him, smiling shyly and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was more afraid of your reaction”, she admitted. Again she glanced up at him, gauging his expression to her words.

San could only grin foolishly at her, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. He loved how she asked for his approval; loved how she wanted to do it with him in her mind. Before he could say anything of that though, Hongjoong requested Yeong-Ja to lay down on her side. San nearly whined out loud when she pulled her hand away from him to follow the request.

Yeong-Ja tried breathing naturally but her nervousness slowly got the best of her. She only followed the instructions of Hongjoong now, her head otherwise empty. She pulled the fabric of her dress to the side, revealing her right thigh.

Hongjoong then grabbed her by her hip gently and pulled her back to his lap, so that half her body leaned against him. “If this position is too uncomfortable we can get you a pillow to support your upper body.”

San immediately scrambled closer to them. He offered his own lap as a pillow and grinned giddily when Yeong-Ja accepted and placed her head on his lap. The emperor grabbed her right hand as well, pulling her arm up over her head so it wouldn’t be in the way for Hongjoong and so he could hold her hand again.

‘We should be marking her’, his wolf growled. He felt conflicted watching another man putting a mark on the body of his mate - even if it showed humans she belonged to the emperor - and having her so close to him. On one side he wanted to smother his mate in kisses and licks and on the other he wanted to tear his teeth into the artist for touching her. Or take her in front of him just to show his claim.

San groaned silently, debating with his wolf inside his mind. He unconsciously closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, too focused on controlling his wolf.

Yeong-Ja, who had been staring up at San for the whole time, noticed how he tensed up again. She squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Does it hurt?” San asked and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it before he could even think about the action.

“Not anymore”, Yeong-Ja answered, grinning at him as she saw the twinkle of understanding in his eyes. She didn’t just say these words to copy his answer from before, she actually barely felt the way Hongjoong tattooed her since all her focus had been on San only, making her heart soar and stomach flutter. This was the closest she had been to him and she liked the feeling, hoping it would only deepen in the future.

“Can I see your tattoo again?” San turned on his side, looking up at Yeong-Ja’s sitting form. He grinned innocently as he looked through his bangs, appearing almost boy-ish.

Yeong-Ja giggled and leaned back on her hands, stretching her leg out. “You've been asking every day since I got it.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air surrounding her.

Ever since she got the tattoo, San kept her as close as possible. He still hadn’t taken her at night but during the day he became quite clingy, disregarding the looks from others when he stayed so close to her.

Though right now he didn’t have to worry about it, having taken Yeong-Ja out on a picnic to a nearby stream in the bordering forest. He told Seonghwa where they were headed and ordered the guards to stay behind. San wanted to be solely with her at least for a moment.

“And I’ll continue to ask every single day.”

Yeong-Ja opened her eyes and laughed softly. “I’m yours. Technically you wouldn’t even have to ask.” She licked over her lips and averted her eyes again, taking in her surroundings instead.

The sun filtered through the canopy of the trees above their heads, letting thin rays of light hit the ground around them. Some rays reached the water of the small stream, where the moving water reflected the light. Birds and cicadas chirped around them and somewhere up the stream even a frog croaked its mating song.

San pushed himself up and crawled over to Yeong-Ja, his body half hovering over hers now. He grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and turned her head until she looked into his eyes again. “I will always ask for your consent.”

Yeong-Ja exhaled shakily and smiled up to him. “And I’ll always give you my consent.”

San grinned brightly and let go of her chin, his hand moving down to her leg instead. When he reached her ankle, he finally made contact with her skin. Ever so slowly San pushed his hand up along her leg now, moving the fabric of the dress to the side in the process. Once he revealed her bare thigh to his sight, he let his thumb brush over the dark tattoo.

‘We should mark her right next to it!’ His wolf tried to order San and growled in frustration when he didn’t bud. ‘She’s ready for us! Take her, mark her, breed her!’

San swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the pictures floating into his mind. He grabbed her thigh, his large hand squeezing it. His eyes slowly wandered back up to her face, seeing how she stared at him with bated breath.

‘She wants us! Wants us to breed her! Do something!’ His wolf roared in frustration when San only dropped down on her form, using her body as a pillow.

San pressed his ear against her chest, listening to her erratic heartbeat with a smirk playing over his lips. He sighed in content and closed his eyes. It took all his strength to keep his wolf in check and simply relaxing in her lap helped him gain the power to keep it that way.

Yeong-Ja shifted her weight to hold her up on one hand, so she could card her fingers through San’s dark locks. She tried to ignore how her heart hammered inside of her chest, making her emotions incredibly obvious to the emperor. She tried to ignore the flutter inside her stomach and the heat pooling in her lower regions when he squeezed her thigh. While a part of her wanted him to take her in the middle of the forest, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.

Yeong-Ja wasn’t inexperienced - not that she’d tell anybody about it - but now that emotions had joined the situation, it created a pit in her stomach and made a mess out of her.

A twig snapped in the distance, alerting San and his wolf. He tensed up before pushing himself into a crouching position in front of Yeong-Ja, ready to protect her at any cost. San barely held the growl inside him when he heard steps coming closer.

“What’s wrong?” Yeong-Ja sat up as well, placing one hand on San’s back and peering over his shoulder.

“Someone’s coming”, San informed her with a low voice. He had his eyes still trained on the trees in front of him, listening intently to the steps. His nose twitched as he tried to use the sense of smell from his wolf, hoping to get a read on the person that was approaching.

“San?”

Yeong-Ja sat a little straighter than before, her mouth shaping an ‘o’ as she recognised the voice. She also noticed how San visibly relaxed and stood up, calling out for Seonghwa.

Soon enough the older man appeared between the trees with an awkward smile adorning his face. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt”, he apologised and bowed shortly in front of the couple. “But I have to ask you to return to the palace.”

San frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why?” Was the only word he said, slightly glaring at Seonghwa for even requesting something like that.

Seonghwa glanced towards Yeong-Ja, who slowly stood up too, readying herself to leave at any moment. He sighed deeply and returned his attention to his emperor. “Patrolling guards have stumbled on a camp of soldiers from the neighbouring region. They were able to overwhelm them without any casualties but now they insist on delivering a message to the emperor himself.”

“And that couldn’t wait?” San grunted in annoyance, but started to pack the few things he had brought along nonetheless.

“The prisoners make the court nervous.”

“And a nervous court is a bad court.” San sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to leave Yeong-Ja’s side so soon. He turned his head and looked at her, contemplating his options. “Would you” - he paused, unsure about his own request - “stay with me?”

Yeong-Ja nodded and quickly stepped next to him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “If that’s what you wish.”

San thanked her quietly and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the palace and towards the throne room. His thumb rubbed slow circles to the back of her hand as his gaze was trained on Seonghwa’s back. He knew Seonghwa wouldn’t have interrupted them if it wasn’t necessary. He still cursed the older man for doing it though.

When they reached the throne room, Seonghwa stepped next to the throne as the head counsellor, looking down at the five soldiers that kneeled at the bottom of the steps towards the throne.

San glared at them as he walked up the steps and plopped down on the throne. He still held onto Yeong-Ja’s hand and used the chance to pull her right into his lap. There was no way he’d let her go now while being irritated already. San wrapped his arms around her body and silently nosed her neck, inhaling her scent with closed eyes to calm himself down again.

Yeong-Ja hadn’t expected to sit on the throne as well but she sensed how San needed her presence to keep his cool. She placed one hand on his chest, silently telling him she would be there for him.

“What is this message you have for me?” San opened his eyes again, glaring down at the five soldiers, who cowered away from his intense aura. Even some of his own guards shrunk down on themselves.

“It’s more of a warning”, one of the soldiers spoke up, raising his head to look up and smirk at San and Yeong-Ja. “You might wanna keep a closer look on your concubines.”

San snarled loudly and tightened his hold on Yeong-Ja, leaning forward a little as if he wanted to attack at any moment. “Be careful of your next words or I will rip your tongue out”, he threatened, baring his teeth in the process.

The soldier laughed maniacally. “I’m not surprised rebel groups are forming in your kingdom when the emperor himself is more concerned whether I insult a concubine or not.” He glared back up at San, a crazy look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “They say the dumber the concubine the better the sex. So this one must be incredibly stupid if you keep her that close.”

Yeong-Ja pressed her hand on San’s chest, keeping him in place. She turned her head to the soldier, raising an eyebrow to taunt him. “Oh really?”, she asked with a scoff. “In this case your stupidity outshines mine. You never intended to give the emperor a real warning, did you now? You only desired to insult him or get a rise out of him, isn’t that right? But here you are, on your knees, pathetic and incredibly stupid for revealing your association with rebel groups.”

Seonghwa stared at the woman with wide eyes. She was the first woman to speak during a court meeting of this magnitude. She was also the first to attend one but that's besides the fact she kept San in check, threw the insults right back at the enemies face and pointed out valuable information. He had also picked up on the rebel part but would have brought it up at a later point without the soldiers present.

Seonghwa turned his attention to San, noting how he barely held himself together. The only thing stopping him right now was Yeong-Ja’s hand on his chest. Otherwise he appeared to be absolutely livid.

“Pah”, the soldier barked, internally cursing himself for speaking about the rebel groups.

“And let me guess”, Yeong-Ja continued, ignoring how the soldier bared his teeth at her, “part of the rebel group is a former concubine that ran away. Why else would you bring it up?”

“A loud one, aren’t we? I’ll keep in mind to gag you when I fuck you and make you submit to me!”

In a flash San pushed Yeong-Ja from his lap and leaped down the stairs, crashing into the soldier, who had insulted her on several occasions. He punched his face over and over again, not stopping even when he heard the crack of bones.

Seonghwa rushed over to Yeong-Ja and placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing himself into her line of view. “You should leave now!”

Yeong-Ja stared up at him with an open mouth. She noted his stern voice and expression but something inside her insisted to stay put. “He asked me to stay by his side”, she tried to bargain with Seonghwa, knowing full well her weak voice did nothing to compel him.

“You do not want to see this”, Seonghwa only told her and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up and away from the throne.

“What kind of monster is he?” One of the other soldiers screamed as he tried to move away.

Yeong-Ja looked over her shoulder upon the scream, seeing how San got tackled by several of his own guards, who tried to pull him away from the now lifeless body of the first soldier. She watched how San pushed all of the guards away and stood up, blood dripping from his fists. His eyes had turned turquoise as he fixed the soldier, who had screamed, with his stare. The last thing Yeong-Ja saw was San snarling, revealing larger canines than a human being should have, before she got pushed through the door behind the throne.

“What is happening to him?” She asked in concern and stared up at Seonghwa’s grim expression. Yeong-Ja stumbled along the wooden path, trying to keep up with the pace Seonghwa had.

“That’s something he’ll have to tell you himself.” Seonghwa opened the door to her quarters and gently pushed her inside. “Stay here and do not come out until I or a servant come for you!”

“What about San? Can I leave when he-?”

“No!” Seonghwa interrupted her immediately, his grip on her shoulder tightening. “In this state San can’t be near you! He wouldn’t want that!”

Before Yeong-Ja could ask more questions, Seonghwa let go of her and closed the door in front of her nose. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and slowly walked to the large bed while all of her thoughts were with San.

Seonghwa basically ran back to the throne hall, seeing the bloodbath in front of him. He ordered the guards around as he tried to get a better grip of the situation. So far he counted four dead bodies already and several injured guards - which were thankfully on the lighter side.

San stalked across the room to the remaining living soldier. He pushed himself through the guards that tried to hold him back, his hands that had already turned into claws reached out for the soldier and his turquoise eyes fixed him in the corner of the room. When San broke through his guards he landed on all fours but it didn’t stop him, instead he just continued to crawl forward. He growled menacingly and ignored the guards that grabbed onto his clothes and legs.

“They’re going to kill you! They will hunt you like the animal you are!”

San licked over his canines and pushed one last time forward, breaking free and reaching the soldier. He wrapped his hand around the soldier’s throat, his sharp claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. San leaned down to his face, leaving only a hair’s width between them. “They can try”, he growled before he snapped his back.

Even though the soldier was dead, San still ripped his throat out and clawed at his upper body. He had lost all of his control, letting his wolf overpower him.

‘Die, die, die, die!’ The wolf chanted over and over again as he relished in the disembodiment of the soldiers. A small part of him had been incredibly proud of his mate for handling the situation so quick-witted but it did nothing for the rage he felt. Nobody insulted his mate and would get out of that alive. He scanned the room, making sure none of the enemies had survived, grinning even when he saw their bodies - or what was left of them. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, the stench of blood infiltrated his nostril as well as the fact the scent of his mate was missing.

Seonghwa and seven other guards stormed towards San, grabbing him and placing huge chains around his arms and wrists. They struggled quite a bit to keep San in check but did it in the end, despite his writhing and twisting.

They brought him to his private quarters and chained San up against his own bed, making sure he wouldn’t be able to break free unless he regained his human consciousness again.

“Take the time to cool off again”, Seonghwa told him with a pained smile on his lips. “You did what you had to. We’ll clean up the mess and take care of the rebel groups. Their scent will be traceable.”

San growled at the mention of the rebel groups, pulling at his chains as well. ‘Anybody associated with these soldiers has to die!’

Seonghwa sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. He only hoped San would regain control again sooner than later. He didn’t want to imagine the consequences otherwise.

Yeong-Ja sat up on the bed as she heard the commotion outside her room. She scooted to the edge and listened with bated breath, hearing some muffled words being spoken as well as the rattling of chains. The woman swallowed the lump forming in her throat and stood up, walking to the door that connected her room with San’s. One of her hands clutched the turquoise pendant hanging around her neck while the other hovered above the door, trembling from the nervousness running through her body.

A pitiful whimper from the other side of the door, settled her decision and she pulled the sliding door open. Yeong-Ja glanced into the darkened room, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes connected with the turquoise glowing ones from San.

He whimpered again, trying to move one hand in a weak attempt to reach for her. “Yeong-Ja”, he rasped before he wetted his lips with his tongue.

Yeong-Ja carefully stepped closer to the bed, both hands now clutching the pendant while her eyes took in every detail of the scene before her.

San laid splayed across the mattress, his upper body slightly hoisted up by the dozens of pillows behind his back. His arms were pulled to the side by heavy looking chains that wrapped around them up to his elbow. His fingers, which appeared more like claws, had blood slowly drying on them. Same with his clothes that got covered in blood stains and started to dry up. San had blood smeared over his lower face as well, the dark liquid a stark contrast to his smooth skin and his glowing eyes.

“San?” She asked hesitantly, halting at the end of the bed. Concern was written all over her features and it only deepened when he whimpered again. Yeong-Ja stared at him, a knot forming in her chest from the helplessness that suddenly arose inside of her. She wanted to help him, be there for him, but she didn’t know how.

A loud crack rang through the room and San broke free in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Yeong-Ja by the waist and slammed her down on the mattress, caging her underneath his body. He leaned down and nosed along her neck, inhaling deeply her intoxicating scent. “Our mate”, he rumbled and pressed his pelvis against her core.

The way San easily threw her onto the bed, knocked Yeong-Ja’s breath out of her lungs. The heat and throbbing inside her lower regions built up tenfold out of nowhere, leaving her incredibly aroused.

“We’ll take good care of our mate,” he breathed against the sensitive part of her neck, gently nibbling the skin even, “we’ll make her feel full with our cock, make her full of our cum until she’ll carry our pups.” He spoke more to himself than to her, too consumed by his own hunger and lust.

Yeong-Ja mewled softly underneath him when he ripped her clothes off, leaving her in a few shredded pieces of fabric but otherwise bare for his eyes. She wanted to hide from his intense gaze but stopped upon hearing him growl. Instead she raised her hands above her head, intertwining her fingers even, to show she wouldn’t hide a single part of her body from his sight.

He growled almost impatiently as he grabbed her by the hips - the chains around his arms clanged loudly with each movement. With ease he lifted her body and turned her around so she was on all fours. He tore the fabric of his pants open while he pushed Yeong-Ja’s upper body into the mattress, presenting her ass nicely for him.

Yeong-Ja gasped for air when he thrusted into her with one swift motion. Her walls tightened around his shaft, squeezing him hard from the sudden intrusion. She arched her back, changing the angle slightly he’d fuck into her.

He grabbed her hair and held her down, pressing her into the mattress with one hand. Part of the cold chains rested on her back, adding to the intense feeling. The other grabbed onto her hip, keeping her body in place as he started to thrust into her. He snapped his hips so his pelvis hit her ass cheeks and created a loud slapping sound that reverberated through the whole room. He growled with each thrust, gaining strength from the increasing moans that turned higher in pitch with every snap of his hips.

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, feeling her insides tingle in pleasure. Every fibre of her body reacted to him and sent her over the edge. If he hadn’t held her hip with a vice-like grip, she would have collapsed on the mattress. She barely caught her own breath when he used his strength again. She whined over the loss of his dick from her throbbing hole but yelped when he turned her back around and slammed her back into the mattress once more.

His claws ran over her skin, leaving thin red lines along their path. He moved them from her neck over her chest and down her sides until he stopped at her hips. His eyes landed on the moon tattoo on her thigh, grinning wickedly as he dropped down and licked over the dark ink. “Our mate. We’re marking her for good this time.” He nibbled around her tattoo, licking and kissing it in his way as well. Until he found a spot close to her core.

Yeong-Ja arched her back and screamed out when San bit down on her thigh, together with plunging two fingers into her hole at the same time. The pain and pleasure battled inside of her for the prominent feeling as San’s large canines stayed inside her flesh while he started to fuck his fingers into her at a brutal pace.

Only after he felt satisfied, he pulled away from the bite mark, rumbling pleased to see his own mark on her skin. He leaned down and licked over the tender wound, sealing it with his saliva. “You’re such a good mate for us. So perfect. Taking everything so well.”

With one last kiss on the bite mark he moved to her centre, brushing his lips over her sensitive nub and teasing her folds with a few licks. All while he still pounded his fingers into her relentlessly. He only slowed down his movements to add his tongue to the mixture, pushing it along his fingers into her hole. His nose nudged into her nub during the process, making her mewl and whine in pleasure.

As her high built up yet again, Yeong-Ja wanted to clutch her legs together but his broad shoulders and a tight grip on her thigh prevented her from doing so. She had to endure the onslaught of pleasure to her clit and folds, being toppled over the edge when he added a third finger to push into her. Yeong-Ja’s whole body trembled and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her breathing erratic and her mind wrapped in a cotton-like bliss.

He lapped at her essence, slurping up every last drop, before he pushed himself up and ripped the rest of his own pants and shirt away. He tore at the chains as well, getting rid of them and finally being just as bare as her. His dick slapped against his toned stomach, thick and throbbing, with droplets of precum oozing out of its tip. He leaned back down again and rolled his hips against her core, lathering his shaft with her juices and wetting it again before he pushed himself inside of her.

Yeong-Ja didn’t get a warning, nor was she prepared for what was to come. Her legs got pushed to her chest, where he wrapped his arms around to hold them secure while he rammed his dick into her tight hole. The drag along her walls had her thoughts spiralling and her high building rapidly again. Yeong-Ja grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, needing something to ground herself.

“Such a good mate”, he rumbled, accentuating each word with a harsh thrust, “taking us so well. Feeling so good around our cock. Our mate is the only one we need, only one we want.” He pushed into her, getting more and more aggressive since her moans spurred him on. “Need to breed her. Need pups. Need her full of our cum.”

When he let go of her legs, they fell almost limply back on the mattress, spread wide so he could still fuck into her. He grabbed onto her sides, his claws slightly digging into her skin as he continued to push into her. He grunted and growled, hitting the soft spot inside her.

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, writhing underneath him as she couldn’t control her own body anymore. She grabbed onto her hair with one hand, moaning obscenely loud. Her senses zoned in on the connection between their bodies and with one hard thrust she came undone once more.

He stilled his movements, having his dick pushed inside of her core as far as possible. He felt how the base engorged, forming the knot that would prevent any of his seed spilling out. He kept his position, leaning on his elbows and staring down at the connection. He could see how her entrance got spread wide from the building knot, which was enough to make him spill inside of her. His dick twitched and shot rope after rope of white hot cum into her, painting her insides white and filling her up to the brim.

“So good. Taking it all. Our mate will be round and plump with our pups.” He rumbled in satisfaction, watching how her lower stomach slightly expanded from the amount of cum he shot into her.

Even after he was done, he stayed in place - the knot wouldn’t reduce in its size anytime soon. He tore his glowing eyes away from their connected body parts, letting them wander over her body and up to her face. Out of the corner of the eye he noticed something around her neck.

Yeong-Ja winced slightly when he shifted his weight and reached out to carefully pull at her necklace until he had the turquoise pendant resting in his palm. She watched how the glow in his eyes slowly died down and his warm brown eyes returned again.

San’s gaze flicked from the pendant up to her face, confusion spreading over his features since his memory appeared a little hazy. “Yeong-Ja?” His voice was soft with a hint of worry lacing it. When she only smiled weakly - still too out of it from multiple orgasms - concern replaced San’s confusion. He wanted to push himself up when both of them winced, making him look down at his body again. San scoffed and shook his head. “Can’t believe my wolf fucked you before I did”, he grumbled, hiding his face behind his dark bangs.

“Your wolf?” She asked quietly, her voice hoarse from the constant moans. Yeong-Ja raised one hand to cup his cheek, lifting his head until San looked at her again. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone and smiled softly at him, even brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

San sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not entirely human”, he mumbled, swallowing harshly in fear of her reaction. “I am part wolf.” He noticed how her gaze dropped down to his tattoo, making him grin slyly. San turned his head from side to side and looked around, noting the broken headrest of the bed and the chains discarded on the mattress to his sides. He slowly gained scenes of his memory back, putting the pieces together to get a whole picture. “I’m sorry”, he whispered and his head dropped down again.

“Why are you apologising?” Yeong-Ja got up on her elbows, ignoring the sting between her legs from the movement. “You have nothing to be sorry about!”

San shook his head. “I wanted to ease you into this mess since it’s a lot to take. I understand if you’re afraid of me now and want to keep your distance. I’m deeply sorry for losing control over my wolf and letting him use you like that.” To his surprise he heard Yeong-Ja chuckle, so he looked back up at her with wide eyes.

“It is a lot to take in”, she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t take it. The moment I requested the tattoo was the moment I decided to be in this for the long run. You don’t have to hide from me, don’t have to keep any secrets. I’m yours. Wholeheartedly.”

San cursed under his breath as he grabbed Yeong-Ja by the neck and pressed his lips against hers. He hummed into the kiss, barely suppressing the grin building from the pleased rumbles his wolf made. San licked over her lips, asking for entrance and deepening the kiss when she gave it to him. He slowly started to roll his hips as well, feeling his hard on buried so snuggly inside of her.

Yeong-Ja arched her back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. While San’s movements were a lot softer they were precise and hit her insides just right.

San took his sweet time with her, adoring every second of it. For once he could enjoy the pleasure of life without his wolf commenting on everything he did. For once he felt like he became one - not just with himself but with another person as well, a person so special in her own unique way. And he would show her his gratitude every single day for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #choi san #ateez #ateez san #one shot #warrior #san one shot #ateez one shot

267 notes · View notes

wifeofsnowbaird · 4 months

Text

You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/

Masterlist

[Mentor!Coriolanus Snow x time-travel, hg-era, tribute!reader x toxic!Finnick Odair (in the Peacekeeper era)]

Warning: gore, blood, gun and knife violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, possibly non-con...as I said, maybe...

Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.

The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.

'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'

You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.

'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'

The reason you had volunteered to kill Snow was the debt your parents had owed him. They had cried and pleaded with the Peacekeepers to have some more time but they refused to react. Most District people had been forced into poverty and needed money and the Capitol granted them ways to gain some, but unfortunately, it was a loan that kept on growing. This started with President Snow’s reign and imposed slave labor on many of the people living in the poor Districts like 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12.

Your parents had died in those situations, your father being forced into the coal mines and your mother transported to District 8 to work on Peacekeeper uniforms.

Both were killed by the very people they worked for.

‘[Name]! Are you ok? The train was very harsh…’ A bright-eyed girl-Lucy Gray- bent over you to wake you up from your sleep. The sun shone through a slit in the ceiling, highlighting your bronze skin as you moved.

She grinned over to you while sitting on the floor, eyeing you as you moved.

‘I loved your song, [Name] Lily, it was magical.’

You suddenly gasped, how did you…faint on stage?!

The small girl beside you nervously smiled before she extended a hand in your direction.

Lucy Gray motioned over to the extended hand and introduced you to her.

‘That’s Wovey from District 8, and I’m sure you know me!’ Her grin widened.

‘Of course I do, Lucy Gra-’

‘District 9 girl tribute, it’s time to meet your new mentor since Plinth’s son wanted your apparent sister, so your mentor is now Coriolanus Snow.’

Lucy Gray frowned, slight fear shining in her gaze. You bent your head to whisper in her ear a quote which should gift her strength.

‘Don't let them sense your fear or they will laugh with joy…’

And that is true defeat…

You had woken up in [Name] Lily Baird’s body 13 years ago, when the original [Name] Lily Baird was adopted by Lucy Gray's parents. It hadn’t taken you long to understand how to survive in the Covey after the...deaths...of your adoptive parents because you had lived in 12, the poorest District.

But you had never understood what happens in the Hunger Games besides the fact that most tributes wish they were dead.

‘Get out.’

A disgruntled Peacekeeper snatched you from the floor and pushed you toward a man with analyzing blue eyes. He smiled at you and offered a gorgeous white rose.

‘So this is Coriolanus Snow…I take it back, Haymitch was right, he’s hot-no, focus, [Name]!

You grimaced at the rose and snatched it, scratching his hand lightly. His smile faltered a bit but once he noticed her flaming face his smile returned, brighter than before.

‘So is this the only thing you do?’ You elaborated once you noticed his furrowed eyebrows.

‘Bringing me roses, is that your only skill?’ He glanced at your hand gripping the rose before straightening to reply.

‘I’ll do my best to take care of you,’ You looked annoyed once you heard that and he noticed before you could even form a thought as if he wanted you to view him as a man worthy to be your mentor. ‘And I’ll make sure to keep you safe.’

You rolled your eyes before catching the movement of his hand gliding through the tresses of his platinum blond locks.

‘I’m sure you will, Coriolanus Snow.’

Until I kill you.

‘Tigris,’ The blond-haired woman hummed, her adept fingers quickly stitching one of Grandma’am’s old shawls. ‘I think my tribute is in love with me.’

She paused, glancing at the blue-eyed man sitting beside her.

‘Why…why would you think that?’

‘She…trusts me, to keep her safe at least.’

Tigris chuckled, careful not to wake the Grandma’am at such late hours.

‘Do you want her to be in love with you? Because it seems like you have an infatuation with the singer.’

He focused on the scratch she’d marked him with.

‘Maybe…”

#tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #president snow #hunger games #coriolanus x reader #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #corionalus snow #coryo #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #yandere coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow

128 notes · View notes

clip-the-simp · 20 days

Text

Not Much Else [Pt.1]

Ao3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2,956

Warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mention of drugs and surgery, (I’m bad at warning tags so just let me know if I need/should to add some)

Tags: Mild Proofreading, Slow Burn(?), reader had bat wings, Bounty Hunting, slight deviation from TV show, pre!show events(?), (Again I'm bad at tags so let me know)

Summary: You're a vault experiment that makes it to the surface. Quickly you learn the lay of the land and a few years later end up working the same bounty as The Ghoul. You convince him to let you take a long after having a feeling that you just had to follow him. Where will this story lead? Only time (and my motivation) will tell.

A/N: this is cringy as shit so please forgive me. I’m trying to get back into writing and my current hyperfixation is Fallout. I've been a fan for years but a new found love was sparked with the show's release.

Be forewarned that this is going to be incredibly inaccurate to cannon events and really unrealistic honestly. But listen. If Lucy can have her finger zapped back on and working properly anything can happen.

The scientists of your vault had placed nearly 200 hundred people into cryo pods before the bombs had fallen. A few had been scientists, but most were test subjects. Those chosen to be experimented on were chosen from a vast array of different medical histories, genetic makeups, ages, and ethnicities which always resulted in different mutations. Only about one third of the subjects had volunteered, while the majority had been simply manipulated, kidnapped, and or drugged before being shoved into a cryopod.

You had been one of the majority that had been kidnapped. Before the bombs, you had been a star in HollyWood and went on to be in several films which included a western or two. You were still fairly young however, so when the threat of bombs falling had started to rise you had been cornered. A white cloth with chloroform was shoved into your face once you had gotten back to your film trailer after wrapping up the final scene for a movie you were co-starring in. You had only woken up for a brief moment after being kidnapped, which was right before they had shoved you into a pod and began the process to preserve your body for the next century or so.

When the scientist decided it was time to start experimenting, some wouldn’t survive the first round of injections but that never did stop the test. Even after death the bodies would continue to be used to determine different severities of treatments on human tissue.

However, those that didn’t have the fortune of passing within the first few rounds of chems being forced into their veins, they had far worse ahead of them. Which just so happened to be the group of unfortunate folks you wound up being.

It had been about 175 years after the bombs dropped before they dethawed you from your cryosleep and started on their process of testing and modifying your body. They had hoped, just like with all of their other experiments they had running, that you would be one of their best.

After the first initial round of chems they had started to cut into you and spliced your DNA with multiple different creatures. First it started with the removal and rewiring of your eyes. They had been replaced with those of a feline which had taken you months to recover from, but that didn’t stop the minor test they continued to perform.

The rewiring in your brain caused excruciating headaches for the first few months but soon you were able to view things from a new lens. Being able to see more than most at night was a great perk to have when the vaults tended to stay poorly lit. However this also caused you to have some sensitivities to bright lights, so in response to that the scientist designed specialized goggles to combat it but made them so they wouldn’t impair your ability to see at night with them still being on.

The next body modification came when a scorchbeast, a large mutated bat creature, had been killed and dragged into the vault. After careful consideration and candidate evaluation you had been chosen to be subjugated to the experiment. No one knew if your body would reject the new muscle and bones that had to be implanted, but your genes had the most likely success rate when looking at the data provided.

After a full year of recovery you had full mobility of the limbs, and with it having been a young scorchbeast, the wings hadn’t been to terribly large in comparison to your body. You had been due for more body installments but before the scientist had the opportunity to stick another knife in you all hell had broken loose.

One of the more aggressive test subjects had escaped from their enclosure and started wreaking havoc upon the vault. They had managed to set other people free while in a blind rage when they had broken into the control room. In doing so not only where you set free but so where all the others, including those in cryosleep.

However you hadn’t stuck around for long once everyone, mutated or not, had started attacking one another in a panic. Having seen map layouts of the vault in the halls on the way to your surgeries, you had been one of the first to make it to the surface and begin your trick through the waste land.

After a week you had managed to find your way to a town which was both a blessing and a curse. Outside the walls of the town there had been a dead man who still had his clothes on. Having realized you were still in your medical gown, you had stripped him of the garments, minus the underwear, and cut a large hole in the back of the shirt to accommodate for your wings. With pants and a shirt on you were now a little more confident when entering the settlement.

Even after getting more than a hospital gown on, people still had given you strange looks as you walked the streets. They snarled and ogled at the wings sprouting from your back, and even after tucking them under your arms while pulling them close to your sides, it didn’t stop the stairs. Your goggles had remained pulled over your eyes during the majority of your time on the surface, but you could tell people could still see the slits that were your pupils.

You had quickly learned the ways of the waste land. Caps controlled everything, violence was always the answer, and it was kill or be killed. So when a man suddenly cornered you in the alley way of that first town you were in, you quickly became a killer. Whether it was the animal genetics fused with your own or your will to survive, you had proceeded to rip that man's neck out with your teeth when he had gotten close enough.

In doing so you had gained a handful of caps, a slightly rusted knife, and a pistol that had enough ammo to mow down a small horde of ghouls. The only item of clothing you peeled from his body was a weathered trench coat made of leather. That had managed to cover your wings if you kept them tucked close enough, although a bet awkwardly.

With the handful of caps you had gathered you had managed to get some accentals and learned about bounty hunting. If you were going to survive in the world you had to adapt, and so you did.

Two years had passed since you first began living on the surface when you had encountered The Ghoul, face to face, for the first time. Both of you had been working the same job when the target in question got smart and hired a few armed guards. The two of you were knocked unconscious and tied up in a rotting building while the target and his goons ran off. You had come to when the splitting pain from being knocked out finally became too much for your body to suppress.

As you peeled your eyes open, you started to realize someone was tied to your back as you and the other person sat on the sand covered floor of the decaying house. Shuffling a bet you tried to grab the knife at your side but soon heard a groan from the person you were tied to. You hadn’t bothered before to try and see who it was, hoping to have gotten untied from one another before they had the chance to wake up and possibly kill you.

“Fucking hell.” You heard the man mumble as he tried to get his bearings as you had. Your heart made its way to your throat as you realized who it was. Although you had never met the man you recognized his voice from the rare occasion you had been in the same town together at the same time.

Fuck fuck fuck! You thought as you continued, more hastily this time, to try and get the knife at your side. You had never paid The Ghoul much attention, however you know of his reputation and that he was a gifted gun slinger. However, while you hadn't paid him much attention, he had been studying you. He had started to recognize you any time you just happened to be in the same town. It wasn't anything more than the fact you were exceedingly odd and always looked out of place from those shuffling around you. Although he was a ghoul and the farthest thing from normal looking, your wings would always take any and all attention from those around you. No matter how well hidden you tried to keep them.

“Stop fidgeting damn it.” Your body immediately froze as he spoke directly to you. A few shuffles of his own and he quickly had his hands on his own knife which sliced through the rope with relative ease. You fell forward slightly as the tension from the rope was released and you quickly stood to dust yourself off.

Turning around you saw The Ghoul doing the same thing as he stood. His duster was ripped to shreds but still served its purpose of covering him from the sun. The cowboy hat he held in his hands was quickly placed back on his head before he turned to glare at you. His spurs jingled a little as he faced you.

Everything in your body screamed at you to run before he could pull out his weapon, but his gaze had you pinned to your spot in the room. You swallowed hard before trying to move and look more relaxed then you really were. Crossing your arms you moved your eyes to meet his which started an immediate feeling of regret.

There was something about his eyes that held a feeling of familiarity but it was buried under the many years of being forced to live amongst the harsh conditions of the wasteland. The Ghoul’s eyes remained on your face for the longest time before traveling to the tips of your wings that peeked out from under your coat. You quickly tried to tuck them closer to hide them but that just led to him looking back to your face.

“Now how the hell you get those on your back?” The Ghoul pointed to where the wings had been showing just moments before. His question had brought you out of your frozen state as you tried justifying to yourself answering him truthfully. You didn’t figure it would hurt to be truthful, especially since it was only the two of you at that moment. Not to mention the odd feeling that you could rely on him to keep any information you needed to get off your chest.

“Vault experiments.” You answered plainly as you moved the extra appendages from under your coat and spread them a little farther out from your body as you stretched them. As you did this something shifted in his expression, almost a kin to pity. He looked back into your eyes as if trying to recognize you as you had done the same to him moments before. You had forgotten the fact your eyes were no longer human so whatever search he was on would be nearly impossible if he intended to find answers within them. Not to mention the fact that your goggles were currently tented from the light coming in from the setting sun.

“That’s unfortunate. Seems like those wings would be in the way of everything.” He stated while picking up some of his belongings that hadn’t been taken. You crossed your arms and leaned on one leg. Sure, the wings were annoying at first, but they had become useful as time went on. You always managed to travel farther than anyone else in the wasteland could in two days on foot.

“They’re actually quite helpful.” You stated as you began to check yourself for any belongings that might be missing. “People don’t expect an aerial assault nowadays. So ambushing people is quite the luxury when being a bounty hunter.” The Ghoul gave a low hum as he slung his bag back over his shoulder. Surprisingly enough they hadn’t stolen anything, but you assumed it was because they were more focused on getting out of there before the two of you woke up.

“Well sweetheart I must be on my way. That bounty is still out there and I don't need someone else getting my caps.” As he said this The Ghoul slung his leg over the wall of the decrepit house and began his trek to the target. Something in the back of your mind pricked at your thoughts as he walked away. The feeling that you needed to follow him into the wasteland grew stronger the farther he walked.

What was it about this guy that had you wanted to do nothing more than follow him like a lost puppy? You hadn’t meant to be working the same bounty but somehow it felt like it was meant to be. Kicking yourself mentally, you sprinted after him. He had only managed to get a few yards away before you abruptly sprinted up behind him.

Out of instinct The Ghoul pulled his gun on you and had it aimed directly at your head. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath from the short unexpected run you just had. The adrenaline pumping through your veins prevented you from freezing or seeing the gun held to your face as much of a threat at that moment. All your mind was trained on was convincing The Ghoul to take you with him on this job.

“Take me with you.” Was all you could blurt out. Your voice had been shaky which you hoped wouldn’t be too noticeable but The Ghoul definitely caught it. He lowered his gun to keep it aimed at your chest instead.

“Now why should I do that?” He asked as he raised a nonexistent eyebrow. The sun was getting low which caused a shadow to shroud most of The Ghoul’s face. A knot began to form in your stomach. You hadn’t thought this through at all but had to come up with an excuse fast.

“I can be of help. Like I stated before, aerial assault isn’t something most folks are prepared to fight against.” That was practically the only key advantage you had on most other people. You had other talents, sure, but that was back up information in case the main appeal didn’t go through.

The Ghoul lifted his gun to tip his hat out of his face to get direct eye contact with you. His gaze fell and rose as he examined your form. It made you partly embarrassed as you pulled your wings in closer. He stood there and contemplated for a while until you broke the silence.

You grabbed the goggles from your face and sat them on top of your head. Your vision quickly adjusted to the new light exposed to your eyes. As The Ghoul looked back to your face you saw a bet of shock appear on his face before it was quickly masked again.

“Listen,” You started as your hands quickly began to fidget with one another. “I don't know why but I feel as if I’m supposed to go with you. If I had an explanation of why I would tell you but I don’t except for saying it’s a gut feeling.” The Ghoul’s expression stayed the same which quickly diminished your hope of joining him. Your eyes fell to the ground as you continued to speak.

“I don’t require caps or any sort of compensation for joining since I’m doing this out of complete and utter selflessness.” You were about to continue rambling before The Ghoul let out an exasperated sigh. Your attention brought back to his form. The Ghoul was pinching between his eyebrows as he holstered his gun. A few mumbles left his lips before his gaze finally settled back upon you.

“If you slow me down-” He started to say. You quickly cut him off as the realization that he was actually taking you along settled in.

“I won’t! I promise.” You said cheerfully as your wings slightly lifted from your sides. Your demeanor was probably a bit too cheerful though with how his expression changed.

“We’ll see if you keep that promise.” The Ghoul grumbled as he looked at the setting sun. It had nearly disappeared over the horizon which had put the world in a deep shade of purplish pink. It wouldn't be long before the sun was completely gone to leave the two of you in complete darkness.

However, that didn’t stop the two of you from traveling a bet that night. Your night vision was impeccable and The Ghoul had a lamp to guide his way. You stayed silent as did The Ghoul which hadn’t surprised you much. It had been about four hours of traveling before he finally spoke to inform you that it was time to siddle for the night.

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #x female reader #f!reader #fanfic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout franchise #writers on tumblr #female writers

64 notes · View notes

tw1l1te · 3 months

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 11

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, some gore and violence, unrequited love??

₊˚✩⊹

“Skyloft is gorgeous at night, Sky. I can see why it’s hard to leave.”

He hummed, fiddling with the fraying hem of his shirt. You frowned. He usually loves staying up to look at the night sky, he dragged you out tonight, even.

“What’s on your mind, Sky?”

He finally looks at you, for the first time since you both sat down on the wooden platform. His eyes reflect the night sky, as if his eyes were mirrors.

“You… know how the whole prophecy work’s? Hero’s purpose?” you nod, curious to see where this was going.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. My role, Zel-Sun’s role. I’m questioning the fact of whether or not I want it. Not the journey itself, as I finished it and didn’t have a choice, no, more so the aftermath.”

You frown again, “What do you mean? If this is about the thing I said about Hylia having questionable morals-”

He shakes his head, looking out onto the expanse of the clouds.

“I’m talking about the fact of me and Zelda being destined to be together, essentially.”

Oh.

This topic stung a bit, you weren’t going to lie. You’ve started feeling attraction towards the older members of the group the past few months, a couple months after your initial arrival. You didn’t think the topic would come up or that you would even gain such feelings of your companions, but the universe never works that way.

“I mean… I guess it’s kind of implied you two get together, experiencing the journey together and all. It would make sense if you two ended up together, usually traumatic events or life-changing ones can bring you closer to the person you experienced it with.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be in love with her, Sun. And trust me, for several years, I thought I did. Then you came along.” He fixates on you, eyes searching yours.

“You opened up a whole new perspective for me, about myself and the role I play in this lifetime, this era, and beyond. That I’m more than a hero and the Chosen One. That I am my own person.”

You smile, “Of course you are, every single one of you is.”

He gives you a small smile, inching his hand towards yours.

“Y/n, I… I want yo-”

You quickly press your fingers to his lips.

“No. Sky, don’t do this. Don’t do this for me. Don’t do this because I’ve been through the journey with you.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “I’m doing this for me. For us. I’m choosing my own fate for once, and I want you.”

You shake your head “Sky, no. Anyone but me. I don’t want you to say you want me or love me because you feel obligated to challenge your destiny. I want you to say it from a place where you want me for me, not to prove someone or something wrong.”

You go up to leave, but Sky grabs your hand, “I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll prove to you that you're more than an anomaly to my destiny.”

You groan, your head pounding. You were laying on a cold, rocky surface, but that’s all you could sense for now. Your ears were ringing, your eyes blurry and fogged up.

What happened?

“Finally! Our guest has woken up.”

Before you could open your eyes, you felt someone pick you up, tossing you over their shoulder. You were carried for what felt like eons before you were tossed onto a chair, feeling your limbs get tied up with rough, thick rope. You could already feel your wrists and ankles getting their blood circulation cut off.

“Now, why don’t you start by telling us why you’re here, guide?” A voice asked.

You scoffed, “Why I’m here?? You’’re the fuckers that knocked me out and brought me-” A loud slap reverbrated through the room, your face stinging with aftershock.

“There’s no need for such… language. I’ll ask you again: Why are you here?”

You shift in the chair, its old, splintered wood echoing off the walls.

“Why is that any of your business? I’m not bothering any of you nor causing any trouble, so why are you so interested all of a sudden, huh?” you demanded, trying to mask your fear.

The clan member crouches in front of you, their broad shoulders and tall stature blocking your view of the room.

“Because you’re the one who has somehow involved us in your escapade. Something related with those friends of yours and the fabled hero.”

“What could they possibly have that you would want?”

“That’s where your understanding is misconstrued, little one. It has little to do with your companions, more so to do with the friends that they brought here… and I think you know just exactly who I’m talking about.”

You avoid eye contact. The clan member hums.

“See, a few days prior to your arrival, a little group invaded our hideout. Quite… gruesomely, if I may put it that way. They were looking for you, of course. They wore their measly robes, quite unoriginal if I may say so myself. But I suppose it did the job of concealing their identities, as I didn’t even come close to uncovering their faces.”

Where was he going with this??

“So I made a deal, a bargain. A life for a life. They spare me, I give them you.”

“So you waited for the perfect opportunity to kidnap me to give me to a group of people that you’ve never seen, much less know their motives?”

He seems to halt his thought at your comment.

“I’m smarter than I look, Y/n. I knew exactly what their motives were.”

“So do they or do they not want to kill me? You’re not making any damn sense.”

“Kill you? Why, I never said that. No…. they’re more fascinated by you, to put it lightly, though their reasons are of no ‘light’ manner. Regardless of what they want with you, my duty is done. You are right where I want you to be, and they should be here to collect you whenever they please. It was a pleasure meeting my sacrifice.”

He leaves, footsteps echoing throughout the corridors. Now that you got a proper look around, the hideout seemed… bigger, darker.

Did it expand?

Why is everything seemingly different to when you last played? Surely there wasn’t something you were too blind to see.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts with footsteps, the footfalls slow but determined. Looking up, you see the main subject of your recent conversation.

Based on their stature, they seemed average height, an inch or two taller. Their face was still concealed in shadow, so not much was given away in features. Their breathing seemed haggard, as if they ran for miles.

“....”

“...What do you want from me?”

The figure doesn’t move for a second. You could feel their eyes piercing your very soul, it made the hairs on your neck stand up. Whatever or whoever this was, it was freaking you out more on the inside than you outwardly showed. Fear was a motivator for a lot of people, and you weren’t going to let them get that satisfaction.

They sat down in front of you, on their knees, hands on their knees, head still tilted at you. Their hands were dirty, rough from the terrain and lack of hygiene. They had gloves on, the fingers free from leather binds.

They released another haggard breath.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” the figure spoke, voice cracking mid-sentence. They sounded like they were on the brink of tears.

“Who are you? Why are you sorry?” you asked, needing answers.

Instead of answering your questions, they cautiously brought on of their hands toward your face, as if they were touching the most expensive artifact. They grasped onto a stray lock of your hair, twisting and curling it around the tip of their finger, examining it. They tucked the lock behind your ear, brushing the shell of it before placing that hand on your cheek.

In a different situation you would’ve been disgusted by the dirty contact, but you were fearing for your life at the moment.

“It’s been so long.”

You squint your eyes, trying to take in the context of the statement.

“I promised I’d be there for you… and I broke that promise, your trust. The others… aren’t the same. We-”

A shout echoes through the chamber, a familiar voice ringing in your ear. Without a second’s hesitation, you yell “LINK!”

The hooded figure seems startled, jumping away from your grasp. They scramble to get up, taking one last look before running off into the shadows.

Within seconds, Wars runs in, looking extremely shaken up. He slides up to you on his knees, giving out almost as soon as he sees the state you were in. Bruised and bloodied, a sight that will haunt him until the end of his days.

“Y/n, hey hey. You’re ok, we’re here. Everyone’s here, you’re alright.” he mumbles into your hair, the same palace that figure was touching you moments ago. He kisses you on the forehead, too caught up in anxiety to process the physical affection towards you.

“Link… I… fuck, get me out of these.”

Without a word, he starts undoing the thick knots of rope, wondering who in the world managed to tie you up so efficiently. If this was under other circumstances, he would’ve been impressed. He winced when he untied your wrists and ankles, the rope burns rubbing your skin dry and bloody. A reminder of how careless they all were.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/n. If I had gone with you, or someone else was with you and didn’t leave you alone-”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, “It’s not your fault, Link. No one foresaw this coming. I don’t blame you, Wild, or any of the others.”

He nods, but his mind is elsewhere. He picks you up, just like he did a few weeks ago, being mindful of your ankle and wrist burns. He’ll make sure Hyrule tends to those as soon as everyone leaves the hideout.

He quickly walks out of the room, your head spinning. You close your eyes and lean against him, suddenly feeling the nausea wash over you like a wave.

“Almost there, Sunshine. Almost there.”

You start to hear the yelling of the rest of the group, metal clanging against metal, arrows flying past you. You could hear Four yelling to Twilight about a potion, Hyrule yelling about needing more arrows, Time shouting orders.

You don’t know how Wars managed to sneak you out amidst all the commotion, him setting you outside the hideout, resting you against the rocky entrance. He unwrapped his infamous scarf, placing it around you for some sense of comfort.

“I’m gonna go get Hyrule, ok? I don’t have any potions on me that’ll be of use to you. Can you stay awake for me, Sunshine? Just till Rulie fixes you, ok?” you somehow manage a nod, already slipping into unconsciousness.

You feel tapping on your face, causing your eyes to open again, “Hey, hey. Need your eyes open for me ok? Need you awake, baby. I’ll be right back, ok? Stay awake.” Wars sprints off, leaving you. You really try to stay awake, but you can feel the pull of sleep tantalizing you, taking over your senses.

You slip away into unconsciousness as you hear Hyrule and Wars run up to you, shouting your name.

₊˚✩⊹

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe au

74 notes · View notes

luminnara · 2 years

Text

a deal with god || Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary: Billy survived...but sometimes, living is worse, and you wish you could swap places with him.

Just a lil somethin somethin I had floating around in my brain after listening to running up that hill roughly 8,000 times on repeat

@smenny @infinitelyforgotten @littlewinter1917

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence and abuse, nightmares

If I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, With no problems

His blue eyes were beautiful.

That much was still true.

They were gorgeous, prettier than anybody’s eyes had a right to be, a pair of sapphires framed by dark lashes that gave him such a smoldering, fuck-you attitude. They were bright and you could get lost in them forever if you could…but now, there was a darkness inside them.

Billy was troubled. You could guess that much. And you were, too.

It wasn’t easy watching your best friend nearly die at the hands of a monster from another dimension. Even months later, you still woke up in a cold sweat, wondering if your nightmares were going to come true and you were going to lose Billy entirely.

Because you so nearly had.

“Don’t.” he had whispered, thick, nearly black blood bubbling up out of his mouth as he looked up at you with pained, panicked eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” you had stammered, desperately searching for his hand in a pool of blood. “I--I won’t, I swear, I-I’m here Billy--Billy, wake up, fucking stay awake for me--”

“I’m scared,” he had admitted with a cough, his hand feeling so cold and weak in yours.

Your heart had plummeted at his words, your hands finding his face as you leaned over him. Billy Hargrove wasn’t scared of anything. Billy Hargrove was the thing everyone else was scared of. But in that moment, on the floor of Starcourt Mall on the Fourth of July, you had known that he was terrified.

And you were, too.

And now, with fall approaching again, you were only marginally less scared. You had only known Billy for a year. A year. And you couldn’t imagine a life without him, even though it had nearly come to that.

“it’s not fair.” you mumbled, curling around the pillow you hugged to your chest. “It’s not fucking fair.”

Because it wasn’t.

It wasn’t fair.

You didn’t know why that thing had chosen him, why it had chosen your Billy, but you wished it had been anyone else.

You wished it had been you.

Because now, Billy wasn’t the same anymore, and neither were you...but if it had been you, at least he wouldn’t have gone through what he did. You knew Eleven had walked around in his mind, or wherever it was that she went. You knew that while watching helplessly as that monster tore through him was the worst thing you could ever imagine experiencing, whatever Billy had gone through was worse.

And you knew that he didn’t deserve that. After so much, he didn’t deserve going through that.

It made you feel weak and useless, knowing that there was nothing you could do. There was nothing you could do about his father and the way he treated Billy, and now, there was nothing you could do about the nightmares you knew he was having...because if you were waking up screaming in the middle of the night still, you knew he was, too.

And you heard them all too often...the screams of a man who was so strong, who was always so solid and so unshakeable.

Tonight, Billy wasn’t the one screaming, though. It was you.

“Hey.” his voice came out of the darkness of your room, sounding far too clear for him to have just woken up.

Which meant that he hadn’t slept at all, which was even worse.

A warm hand found your back. “Hey. Look at me.”

You almost couldn’t do it, because you were so sure that the face you would see would be covered in blood and tears.

“C’mon, babe.” he murmured, his hand finding your shoulder and pulling you back towards him. “Show me that pretty face.”

When you finally turned, you were greeted by the familiar sight of Billy Hargrove, his curly hair disheveled as if he had been tossing and turning. You could see a few scars dotting his skin, souvenirs from Starcourt, but there was no blood. Those blue eyes were sad, but they were open and looking at you.

You raised a hand slowly, cupping his cheek. He was warm under your palm, warm and alive, and as he leaned into your touch, you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey.” he said gently, slipping an arm underneath you and pulling you into his lap as he sat up. “What’s with the tears, beautiful?”

Your other hand found his opposite cheek and as you held each other, a sob wracked your body. Billy smoothed your tears away, first with his thumbs, then with his lips, but he knew there wasn’t anything to say. There was nothing to say, nothing to do but wrap himself around you and let you hide in his arms.

“I’m here, baby.” he mumbled against your ear.

When you spoke, your voice was muffled by his chest, and he gently pried you away to hear.

“What was that?” he asked.

“It should have been me.”

For a moment, he was silent, just looking down at you with those sad, heavy eyes. Those beautiful, tragic blue eyes of his.

“If I could--if I could do it over again. I would have swapped. I would have made it be me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It isn’t fair.”

“Don’t fucking say that.” he half-growled, half-whispered, tightening his grip around you as he pulled you against his chest again.

“I have to relive it, over and over, I have to sit and watch and there’s nothing I can do--”

“But I’m here now.” he interrupted. “‘N you kept your promise.”

“What promise?” you hiccupped, looking up at him with eyes full of tears and a puffy face.

“You stayed.” his hand found yours, just like yours had found his on the Fourth of July. His fingers slipped between yours and he gave it a squeeze, looking down. “And that’s all I needed you to do.”

#billy hargrove #Billy Hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things #stranger things x reader

1K notes · View notes

joels-darlin · 9 months

Text

Monday Morning - The Aftermath

Chapter 3

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only. kidnapping/hostage situation, violence, angst, hurt, allusions to rape, mentions of weapons, restraints/being tied up, mentions of injuries, panic attacks, mental health, anxiety, night terrors, lots of fluff though. (I think that's all sorry if I missed any)

Summary: The aftermath of recovering from your traumatic kidnapping comes with some surprising consequences.

Word count: 2736

Author Note: It’s here, the final chapter. I’m not going to lie this was a struggle and writers blocks have been kicking my ass for weeks, apologies to those who have been waiting but hopefully it is worth it! I’ve enjoyed writing my first multi-chapter fic and have learnt a lot during the process, hopefully here’s to many more. Enjoy this cos it’s just pure fluff and lots of soft!Javi (sucker for him). Any feedback is appreciated, thanks all ♥️

This wouldn't be happening without the help of my dearest friend @ladybess-a03 ♥️ Just thankyou, I am forever grateful for all your help, support and encouragement. You made this ending so much better than I had planned and will forever be in your debt!

AO3 Link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The recovery process would undoubtedly take months, both mentally and physically. But, as promised, Javi was by your side every step of the way. He could tell the physical injuries didn’t bother you anymore, but the mental scars were the ones that hit the hardest.

As expected the first week was difficult. Even though your DEA issued apartments were adjacent to each other, Javi had basically moved in, albeit not straightaway. On one of those nights where he was unable to switch off, drifting in and out from slumber every hour or so, he was woken by the blood curdling screams and hysterical sobbing from the other side of the wall. Knowing it was you straightaway he had bolted from the bed and through the door of the apartment, forgoing the fact that he was only wearing a pair of shorts.

The minute he stepped foot in the room his heart broke, red puffy eyes and tear tracks marring your cheeks - pain and horror evident on your usually happy features. He had noticed since the incident you had become a shell of your former self. A once happy and carefree persona now replaced with sadness and constant fear. Eyes losing their sparkle, replaced with dullness and emptiness accompanied by the dark circles on your pale skin - although to him you still looked beautiful.

That was the first night you had let him hold your trembling frame, staying intertwined until the sun started to peek through the yellowing blinds of the bedroom. It was a new experience for him, the only time in weeks since the heavy ache in his chest had subsided whilst embracing you. From that moment forward he made a vow to never leave you alone in these four walls again. He only left your side for a few minutes the next morning to pack some of his belongings into a hold-all bag, finding them a home in your apartment. ────────

Everything changed after that night, and although you were still in a constant cycle of anxiety and panic attacks, they were not as frequent. Javi had thrown everything into the role of caretaker, working tirelessly to establish a routine aiming to bring some normality back into your life. It was only after some further coaxing that he finally succeeded in getting you to leave the confines of the apartment on a random Sunday, accompanied by him of course.

It was a specific place he had chosen and quite often frequented. Somewhere not far, a small café just down the road, planning ahead in case you changed your mind and wanted out fast. Javi couldn’t help the grin that spread across his cheeks. Admiring as you sat across from him on the rickety, old table, a breath-taking but shy smile adorned your features as you sipped away on a coffee. In that moment his heart stopped.

Javi wasn’t one for long-term relationships and couldn’t remember the last time he was in one, often just paying a visit to one of his many informants for a moment of stress relief. But here you sat in front of him, fingers softly grazing his knuckles across the table, looking happy for the first time in weeks and he was close to crumbling into pieces. Wanting nothing more than to call you his. But he had to wait; you were still too vulnerable.

────────

It was easy to see that you had both slipped into something that could be considered more than friends, even without there being any words yet to be spoken on the matter. The comforting touches between one another increased and evenings were spent curled up on the couch barely paying attention to the TV, not forgetting sleeping in the same bed completely wrapped around one another. Which seemed to keep your nightmares at bay…sometimes.

What you were both unprepared for was the brown Embassy issued envelope that dropped through the letterbox a couple of weeks after the coffee shop. You had come on in leaps and bounds since then, the coffee ‘dates’ slowly becoming something that happened multiple times a week. You’d even managed to go as far as going back to the market where you had first been taken from, albeit for a brief visit, but in Javi’s mind that was steady progress.

All Javi could do was watch as you opened it with shaking hands, spotting the tears starting collecting at your lash line. Taking every ounce of strength in his body to resist pulling you into an embrace, giving you a moment to take in the words on the page.

“They-they- want me back in,” you said. He had waited patiently for you to speak but the words barely came out as a whisper.

“Cariño…” he whispered softly, “If you aren’t ready you don’t have to do anything, I can pull a few strings get you a little longer,” he said, reaching his hands out tentatively and resting them at your waist, calloused thumbs grazing softly at the small amount of exposed skin.

He was furious. Seeing how much progress you had been making and now this, not failing to spot you retreating back into your shell from the moment you had opened the letter. The room was virtually silent, the only sound being the faint banging of footsteps from the apartment above. It was only a few minutes that passed, but they felt like hours, Javi just watching intently as you took a deep breath in before exhaling loudly, sensing that the cogs were turning in your head.

“I-I-think it might be good for me to go…back” you said, and his eyes widened at your response.

“No, sweetheart, don’t rush on their account. It’s barely been two months, fuck them all!” he said, his anger evident from his tone.

“Javi…I can’t stay here locked up in the apartment forever. I’m going to have to get back to real life soon enough,” you said. You were right, as always, eliciting a sigh from him. Moving his arms from your waist he reached out grabbing your hands, linking your fingers with yours.

“Honey, look at me…” he watched as you raised your head, locking eyes with him “…are you sure this is what you want?…You don’t have to make the decision now”.

“No Javi, I do. I want to get my life back on track… I can’t live scared forever,” you said, and he nodded, accepting your reasons.

“I’m with you every step of the way, you got that? Just say the words and we are out of there,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at Javi. He’d gone above and beyond for you these last few weeks, and you truly didn’t know where you’d be without his support.

“Thank you, Javi” you said.

He said no more to you on the matter; truthfully, he didn’t need to. You’d made up your mind and he’d never stand in the way of your decision. There was nothing else to say now, but he chose to use his actions instead to convey just how serious he was about supporting you; how serious he was about you. Closing the space between your bodies, he pulled you into an embrace, laying a soft kiss on your hair. For the first time in a long while, Javi was becoming less frightened to show you just how he felt about you. ────────

You going back to work came around faster than expected. Today was the day you were going back to the office and Javi had been dreading it since the letter dropped through the door. As he stood in the bathroom, eyes locked on his pale and clammy figure staring back in the mirror, hands gripping the contours of the ceramic sink, his knuckles practically white and ready to burst out of the skin. He felt it all, the anxiety and nerves coming and going in waves across his chest. All he wanted was to protect and keep you safe from any harm, and today, for the first time since you were rescued, he wouldn’t be able to do that.

You had been quiet all morning, as expected. He didn’t make any extra fuss, giving you the space and time needed to slow pad around the apartment doing your morning routine. He could only observe from the couch, munching on a slice of now cold toast which was threatening to make a re-appearance at any given moment. He didn’t want you back today, it was too soon. But this was your decision, and he had to respect that.

The drive to the office was quiet. Javi tried to distract himself by tapping his fingers on the leather of the steering wheel. Whilst stuck at a red light he took a moment to glance over to your figure in the passenger seat. The dark circles under your eyes caught his attention, knowing full well that you hadn’t slept at all last night, the constant tossing and turning in bed being the obvious sign. He’d done his best to still you, letting you snuggle into him more than most nights. But it seemed like nothing was working, and as such neither of you had a good night’s sleep.

Javi pulled up into his designated parking spot and turned off the engine. You didn’t move to undo the seatbelt, instead sitting rooted to the spot. Javi turned to you, smiling solemnly, and reached one hand out to hold yours.

“Hey…are you alright?” he asked, knowing full well that the answer was a resounding ‘no’, but you’d probably never admit that. Sure enough, he was right, and as you turned to look at him you put on your best fake smile and nodded your head.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just nervous,” you said, squeezing Javi’s hand in yours.

“I can drive you home? Tell our boss you ain’t up to it yet?” he offered, his deep brown eyes staring at you almost pleading, begging for you to grant him permission to do so. But you were nothing if not stubborn, and shook your head.

“Thank you, Javi. But no, I…I need to do this. If not now, when? I don’t want to get into my own head about this too long, or else it’ll just make my inevitable return so much more difficult. I’m still just on desk duty for a while at least, so that’s something,” you said, not realising that the only reason you were being kept at the station was because Javi had basically demanded that be the case. The day after you’d received your letter he’d gone straight into your boss’ office, thrusting the letter on their desk, requesting that you not be put on any missions for the foreseeable future.

“It’s enough that you want her back so fucking soon, the least you can do is keep her out of harm’s way,” he’d said, not even waiting to hear a response before storming out of the office and back to his desk. He’d learn by the end of the day that they had agreed, and you’d be psychologically monitored before being allowed out from behind your desk. He’d breathed a sigh of relief that night, and packed up his things almost immediately to go back home and tell you the news.

“Okay sweetheart, but if you need anything-,” he began before you cut him off.

“I know, Javi. I know. I’ll come and find you,” you said, smiling.

“You better,” he chuckled.

“I always will, Javi. And, listen…thank you. For everything. I know you still don’t think I should go back to work today, but please don’t forget that if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be considering this. I owe you everything,” you said, one or two tears spilling down your cheeks. Javi smiled faintly, undoing his seatbelt so he could lean over to you more and brush away the tear tracks.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry. What you went through was horrible, and I’m constantly blown away with how strong you’ve been,” he said. You smiled at him, staring into his deep brown eyes. Eyes that only seemed to soften for you, you’d noticed.

“Will…will you be moving out now?” you asked, biting your lip a little, your voice barely above a whisper. Javi chuckled, getting a little closer so your foreheads could rest together.

“Only if you don’t want me there, hermosa,” he whispered, your lips so close to touching, Javi’s hand still cradling your head.

You pulled back ever so slightly to look at him in the eyes, and Javi thought his heart might burst. He’d completely fallen head over heels for you, but it was only after having spent so much time with you these last few weeks that he’d come to realise this. He wondered how long he’d been harbouring this feeling towards you, but that was in the past now. He just hoped that, going forward, it would be something he could one day express.

Smiling sweetly, your breath slightly shaky, you leant back in towards him. Your lips pressed against Javi’s and you kissed him softly. His eyes widened a little at the contact, not quite expecting this from you, and his heart sped up. Once his brain had caught up with what was going on, he kissed you back, the hand cradling your cheek landing in your hair to keep you close. You smiled against his lips when he kissed you, glad that Javi returned the affection you too had been nursing for the last couple of months, the feelings making themselves known ever since he came to look after you.

He didn’t want to overstep with you, never having expected something like this to even happen in the first place. He pulled back slowly, but kept himself close to you. You smiled, a flush on your cheeks and for the first time in weeks you felt alive. It would undoubtedly take a long time before your desire to be intimate with anyone to come back, but for now gentle kisses could be how you showed Javi how you felt.

“I…I don’t want you to move out, Javi. In fact, I wondered if you’d like to move in more permanently?” you asked, trying your best to hold back a cheeky grin. Javi chuckled, elated that you still wanted him around, but also delighted to see you smiling and laughing again. Slowly but surely you were coming back to him, and he was willing to be patient and stick by you for as long as that took.

“If you’ll have me, sweetheart, then I’ll start packing tonight,” he promised, pressing one final soft kiss to your lips. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, now feeling much less anxious about today.

He pulled back and hopped out of the car, then came around to your side to let you out. Locking the vehicle, Javi thrust the keys in his pocket before leaning down to grab your hand. You interlocked your fingers, and he gave you a small squeeze before heading off.

The two of you walked through the front doors of the DEA’s office, hand in hand still. You smiled at Javi, the first genuine smile you’d done this morning. You were still sleep deprived, yes, but he’d lifted your spirits immeasurably, and for the first time since the kidnapping you were starting to believe that you could do this. Your strength in yourself might still not be back to where it was, but today was the first day where you could see yourself slowly getting back there.

For as long as you had Javi by your side, you’d be okay. It might take a few more weeks, or even months; but he was going nowhere, he never wanted to let you go again now. Together you’d be able to overcome what you’d been through, and that was a future you were excited about experiencing.

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fics #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi pena #pedro pascal characters #javi p #narcos #javier pena #javier pena x you

80 notes · View notes

distortionbobble · 2 years

Text

supernova //final

one | two | three

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!poc!reader

summary: you face the consequences of loving anakin.

warnings: minors dni. death of a child, order 66 in general, kinda suicidal thoughts, mentions of pregnancy, elements of masochism/sadism?, choking, angst, biting, the whole smut shebang, canon levels of violence, anakin is very much the way he is at the end of revenge of the sith but maybe exaggerated for my own twisted desires lmao

word count: 9.5k

a/n: i went a little off the rails with this one heehee but also i would totally love to talk about this fic more so i might post a separate more fleshed out a/n for funzies

Sixty nights without Anakin Skywalker.

And not a single one has felt right. From the moment you were exiled from the Jedi Order, you’ve felt more and more that you’re only a bystander as the events of your life occur to someone else. You’re trapped on the outside, watching through walls of glass, suffocating silently with no one to hear, and no one to help.

Each look of disappointment from those who once believed in you is burned into your mind. You never thought you’d live to see that, really. They’re all you see now when you go to sleep, like ghosts that chain you to the mistake that upended your life.

Mistake. It feels wrong to think of Anakin as that. Some nights, the thought of him is the only thing that gives you the strength to keep breathing. You always find yourself reaching out to him, your heart trying desperately to fill the void of his body in a bed that he’s never been in. For so long, sleep just meant that— you and Anakin, together, safe, comfortable. Long before the forbidden tainted your feelings for him, back when he’d crawl into your bed because he had another nightmare and it was only with you that his mind went silent.

Master Windu has assigned you to an agriplanet, one far from what you were familiar with. Lothal imposes its dull monotony on you every day now, from its bleak sunrises to its equally lifeless sunsets. You work along a few of the Jedi who have chosen to work on the agriplanet as a means of escaping the war, exhausted and drained by combat. They’re just as tired as you are, but this place means something different to each of you. To them, it’s a place for recovery. To you, it’s a prison. A place where you’re forced to abandon your hopes and dreams.

Each day is the same: wake up, wash yourself from head-to-toe, eat the bland food they serve at the eating halls before going to the farm. In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t mind it; in fact, maybe you’d find the repetition harmless. But now, the repetition only forces you to dwell on Anakin. What he’s doing, where he is. You wonder if he’s moved on to Padme now that he knows he’ll never see you again. You wouldn’t blame him if he did, but it’s the only thing you can think about, and it consumes you. Day and night. Jealousy and obsession burn at the edges of you because when you fell, you fell hard.

The worst part of all of it is that you don’t feel like yourself anymore. You can’t recognize the person you’ve become. You stare at a ghost every morning in the mirror. If you’re not a Jedi, what are you?

This morning is like every other— you’re woken by the gray light of sunrise as it creeps through your room, hoping the swell of nausea subdues itself before you get out of bed. The nausea made itself known to you only recently, only about a month ago. You pay it no mind.

And then you sit, staring, trying hard to forget the mornings that you woke up next to Anakin. Trying to forget that you’re never gonna get that again. Trying not to think about what he’s doing, if he misses you as much as you miss him.

The silence screams at you. You carry it with you, even as you leave your hut, surrounded by the chatter of Jedi who actually got to live their dreams. You wish that was you, that you’d gotten the chance to be the Knight you were raised to be.

You’re jealous of them. So jealous. But you swallow down the anger and begin your work for the day, trying to ignore the sting of tears as you sink into your despair. More than once, you find your hands wandering to your belt, instinctively reaching for your lightsaber. You can’t remember a single day since you got it where it wasn’t clipped to your belt by the moment you woke up. Your lightsaber was like an extension of yourself, and you felt its absence after having taken it for granted for so long. Being a Jedi was more than just fighting. You missed that part of training, sure, but your mind was always hungry to learn, to fulfill that never-ending urge to know and do things better. Learning battle strategies, learning diplomatic tactics, working with others and learning how to make them bend. Now? You’re cut off and while your hands are busy, your mind is forced to wander.

Anakin is your favorite distraction. What would he do if he was with you right now? He’d loathe this place, that’s for sure. He’s always lived so fast, driven by his impulses. You can almost hear him groaning about his boredom in your head, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his smile. You’re sure he’d make the dreary work a competition, bringing his own life and light to the task because that’s what he always did when he was with you.

You almost wish you’d forget him. Erase his love from your mind. Maybe then, this separation wouldn’t be so painful. But what would you be without him? You loved, and you knew love, felt love. Love had taken careful hands and it had sculpted you, from the clay and the dust and the dirt, and it had sculpted you so grand before the fall. Oh, but how lovely was the fall? Misery is sweet on your tongue when you think of Anakin Skywalker. You can’t forget him, because he is your everything; to forget him would be to forget yourself.

You’ve just sat down for dinner, body fatigued from the day, when a shadow is cast upon you, and you look up to see the smiling face of a woman you’ve only seen in passing. “Congratulations,” she says to you. “The baby will be as strong as its parents.”

The spoon you’d been raising to your mouth falls from your hand and clatters to the ground. “What- what baby?” you stammer out. You’re sure the woman must be talking about someone else, because you’re sure you’re not pregnant. Maker, being pregnant would be a nightmare that you’re not prepared for. You’ve never even dreamed of having a child, too busy adhering to the Jedi Code. You can’t be pregnant, you just can’t be.

The woman’s smile is unfazed as she reaches out to you, just lightly grasping your hand, and you can feel what she feels, what you hid from yourself for the past two months— a flickering presence, just barely there, deep within you. No. Your head swims and you gasp for air that just doesn’t seem sufficient. Panic floods your body at the realization that there is a living thing growing within you. A baby. Yours’ and Anakin’s baby.

“Master Kenobi, I need Master Kenobi,” you mumble, shoving yourself away from the table and stumbling back to your hut. Your feet catch on the roots and rocks in the ground and your body slams into the walls of your hut as you shake in fear. You don’t know what to do. Can you do this? You’ve never been weaker, alone and afraid, without your best friend by your side. You need Obi-Wan, you need his guidance.

You’re frantic as you turn on your hologram, hands trembling as you try to get a hold of your former Master. You bite your knuckles nervously as the signal pings out, almost crying in relief when the hologram of Obi-Wan’s familiar figure lights up in blue.

“Y/n,” he says, with calm surprise. “I take it you’re—”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurt out, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and splashing against your clothes. Then the dam bursts and you begin to sob, chest heaving as your breath escapes you. Soft wails of panic escape you because now you’ve said it, now it’s real, and more than anything, you need support right now. Obi-Wan watches you silently, a look of pain on his face as he takes you in. He looks up, trying to rein in his own tears as you call his name between sobs.

“Padaw— Y/n,” he corrects himself, lips twitching downwards as he reigns in his own sadness. It’s not easy for him to watch the girl he’s almost raised for so long suffer, with nothing he can do to help. “Y/n,” he says again, softer this time. “It’ll be alright.”

“I’m so alone, Master,” you cry out, tears still falling from your eyes. Your tongue slipped in calling that. He’s no longer your Master, and remembering that slices open wounds that have barely begun to heal. Obi-Wan is kind enough to ignore your mistake.

“You’re not alone,” he reassures you, still watching you as you calm down, rubbing the bone behind your ear anxiously.

“What am I gonna do, Obi-Wan? She’s never gonna know her father. She can’t ever meet him, and if she does, he certainly cannot know that she’s his.” You sniffle and wipe your face with the back of your hand, sighing as you think about her future. “What if she feels abandoned? Am I gonna mess her up and be a terrible mother?” Your voice breaks.

“Should you choose to keep the child, which no one will force you to do, you will be an amazing mother. While Anakin cannot know of his child, I will be there as much as I can to ensure your and your child’s well-being. And when it is time, she will be taken in by the Order, where she will be safe.” You laugh bitterly at his words.

“Safe, safe like I was?” Obi-Wan just lowers his head in shame. You’ve never been good at controlling your temper, and seeing your words wound him hurts deep down. You look down at your clenched fists as you slow your breathing, trying to reign in your anger. And you try again. “Thank you, Obi-Wan,” you say. He nods quietly at your words, and you find yourself with your hand atop your belly protectively.

“Y/n, if you do not wish to keep the child, you do not have to. There are many options to—”

“I want to,” you interrupt. You hadn’t realized it before, but you did. And if she turns out anything like her father, you’ll never be bored. “When she’s taken in by the Order… could- could you please make sure she meets her father? She doesn’t need to know it’s him, but that’s what I want for her.”

“I cannot promise anything, but if it’s possible, I’ll try and have them meet.” Obi-Wan evading your request is no surprise. Words mean everything to him, and he doesn’t make promises lightly. But it comforts you to know that he’ll try, to know that he’s on your team even when you feel so alone.

There’s nothing left to say now. Your situation has left you with a cold distance between your former Master, your interaction saturated by a cold silence. You muster a soft smile— one which he returns— and the call is cut, leaving you in your solitude again.

In another life, Anakin would’ve been by your side. It wouldn’t have been fear you felt, but excitement. You can just picture it in your mind— he’d be so happy with the news that he would throw open the windows and scream to the world that he, Anakin Skywalker, was going to be a father. But here, in this desolate life of yours, the only sound is silence.

It burns, deep down, this loneliness. You want nothing more than to cross the galaxy and be swept up in his loving embrace again, safe and supported and loved, both you and your child. He’d love you so much, even now, but that’s exactly the problem. Allowing him to love you would be reckless, dangerous, and you love him too much to allow him to love you. Besides, you’ve lost everything, all for him. There’s no point in dragging him down to the depths of hell just for him to burn at your side.

You cross your room to the mirror, standing in front of it and shedding each article of clothing until you’re left bare, studying your skin in the dim firelight of your room. Is this what Anakin would see? You picture him standing behind you, his rough hands on your smooth skin, tracing every inch of you as he shows you over and over again what it’s like to be loved. You close your eyes and mimic the path his hands would take down your body, consuming your being with the fire that his love is. Grief wraps its hands around you instead and you feel choked, tears spilling down your skin as you weep openly.

Nobody can hear you. Nobody will wipe your tears and hold you til it passes.

And it’s then, when you feel loneliest, that you hear it— your name falling from Anakin’s lips. You’re sure you imagined it.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, and you whirl around to see him. He’s drenched, and you can see fresh droplets of water landing on his bare skin, collecting and building until they’re running all the way down his bare skin. You force yourself to swallow hard as your eyes follow the maps made by each trail, running down the strong panes of his abs before they swoop down to the hard bones that make his v-line and down further still. For a brief second, the familiar swell of lust rises within you. After all, who could resist the sight of Anakin Skywalker in the shower?

But that building lust is accompanied by that bitter longing you carry. You need Anakin Skywalker to breathe, and here he is, like a gift from the Force itself. And he is beautiful and he is connected to you, and it feels like it’s just you and him in the universe all over again. Then you breathe and remember that he’s not yours, he never was. Anakin Skywalker was sculpted by the universe to become the Chosen One, not to waste his life as your beloved. You need him, and love him, and you never will have him.

Still, your mouth betrays you when you cry out his name, reaching out to meet his hand and swallowing that sharp disappointment when your hand just passes through his. You know he’s not truly here, but it hurts nonetheless.

“My love,” he sighs, reaching out to touch your face. It doesn’t matter that it’s not real, it doesn't matter that he’s lightyears away from you. You can almost feel it as you hover your cheek above the apparition’s hand and you have to look up to stop the tears in your eyes from falling. I miss you, you want to say. Come to me. Find me. I love you, I miss you. But you say nothing.

“Have I wronged you so much that you cannot bear to speak to me?” Anakin asks, pained. You shake your head, unwilling to say anything because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying.

“Let me find you,” he urges. His voice is as gentle and loving as you remember, and you find yourself placing a kiss on the apparition’s hand. The false intimacy stings. “Just tell me where you are. I’ll fix all of this, I promise. I’ll save you.”

Your shoulders begin to shake as you step back, sobbing quietly and shaking your head because you don’t have the strength in your voice to tell him no. You hate hurting him. Seeing his face like this, contorted with that agony that you know too well, hurts you more than it should.

“Please,” he begs, dropping to his knees as you continue to back away from him. His tears are falling freely now, collecting on his lashes before they bend and break away to kiss his cheeks. And you’re tempted, again, to tell him everything— to say that you’re pregnant, that it’s his, that you’re on Lothal and you’d follow him wherever he goes. You want to say it all, but it feels like your jaw is wired shut and all you can do is shake your head. Your ambition, your hopes and dreams, were so cruelly dashed by the Order. You see no reason for him to experience the same thing. And even if it hurts him, it’s for the better. It’s what you’d want in his position, to be encouraged to follow your destiny, not turn away from it. Besides, love is a fleeting thing. He’ll forget you someday and the pain will only be a fading scar.

It dawns on you when you look at his broken form that you resent him, to some degree. Because he got to keep everything, while you lost everything, and yet he has the audacity to break in front of you. You want to scream at him, scream that it isn’t fair, that you’re in far greater pain than he will ever know. But you know that you’d feel the same in his place, because you’re so close to shattering. He is your everything.

I hate you. I adore you. I need you. Why couldn’t it be you? Save me. Stay away from me. You want to say all of it, you want to say none at all. You’re at war within yourself, and Anakin on his knees with your name dripping off his tongue only makes your head pound.

“Leave,” you say, finally finding the strength to use your voice. “Leave and never think of me again.” Your voice is steady, a facade you struggle to maintain. Anakin’s bottom lip trembles as you shut him out, his hands falling limp to his body as the image begins to fade.

As soon as the last remnants of light fade from your vision of him, it feels like a cord has been cut and you collapse into yourself, so exhausted from it all that you can’t sob, you can’t cry. You’ve been denied your happiness one too many times but this?

This is what breaks you.

~~~

Two-thousand one-hundred and three days without Anakin Skywalker.

You’ve killed the woman you once were. And, like a phoenix, you were reborn from the ashes of her. Long gone are the days where you were so connected to the Force that it was part of you— now, even something as small as lifting a rock makes your hand tremble and your head throb. Your connection to the Force was lost with the person you were, and it took a long time to fill the void you were left with.

You gave birth to your daughter, Maya, whose spirit matches her father’s. Obi-Wan visits you every month, bringing gifts for your daughter and support for you. He isn’t here every day, but he’s here when it counts— every one of Maya’s injuries has been kissed and sent away by Obi-Wan well after they’ve healed. She’s quite attached to him, and you can’t stop that growing fear that it mimics her father’s all too well. But she is still a child, rosy-cheeked and so full of promise that you banish the thoughts immediately.

Maya Skywalker is five years old now. You’re certain Obi-Wan will assign her a different last name, or erase it entirely, when she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She doesn’t even know her own last name, which you and Obi-Wan decided to do in order to prepare her for her future in the Jedi Order.

If she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She hasn’t shown any signs of Force-sensitivity, but it only makes sense, given her lineage. You’re sure the child of the Chosen One and another almost-Jedi would bring forth a child blessed by a high midichlorian count.

Of course, as her mother, there is a part of you that wants her to not be force sensitive. For her to stay with you, safe for as long as you can ensure it. That way, she’ll have more choice, instead of her destiny being written by the Jedi Council based on how many midichlorians are in her blood.

You’re braiding Maya’s hair as you prepare for Obi-Wan’s visit to celebrate Maya’s birthday. Five years old, the time that the Jedi begins to identify which children are best suited for protecting the Force. You’re slower and more deliberate than usual today, because you don’t know how long you’ll have her with you before she’s taken by the Order and you never see her again. The threat of losing her too sits heavy on your shoulders.

“Mama, why are you being so slow?” Your daughter complains, tugging your skirt. You blink and brush off your fears, shooting your daughter a teasing smile as you work your hands faster and finish her hair.

“Sorry, little lothcat. I was just busy thinking about how big you’re getting.”

“How big, mama?”

“Almost as big as me,” A deep voice rumbles from the doorway.

“Obi-Wan!” your daughter shrieks, beelining straight to his shins and making him let out a resounding oof when she collides with him.

“I’m five now,” Maya says, but her words are muffled by the fabric of Obi-Wan’s clothes. He pulls her upwards quickly, flipping her upside-down quickly and making her giggle gleefully before setting her gently on his hip as he holds her. It makes you smile, seeing your former master being such an important part of her life.

“Hey, Obi.”

“Hello,” He responds, smiling at you gently as Maya pulls on his beard. “Now, what does the birthday girl want to do today?”

“I wanna save a Senator, just like you and Anakin did,” Maya says, determined.

“Oh, your mother told you about that, huh?” He asks, smiling. Maya nods, pushing herself out of Obi-Wan’s hold to get her feet on the ground.

“Anakin is my most favorite Jedi,” she says, spinning around the room. You can’t do anything but laugh, because of course he is. You haven’t shied away from telling her the stories of Anakin’s bravery and everything he did. It was your way of letting her grow up with her father, even if she didn’t know that Anakin was her father.

“Not even me?” Obi-Wan asks, a pout on his lips. He’s always had a soft spot for Maya.

“Not even you, Uncle Obi. My favorite is Anakin. I wanna be as strong as him,” Maya shouts, jumping up onto your cot. She raises her little hands to the sky, imitating what she’s seen you do as you act out as Anakin, her chubby cheeks puffed out as she stares in concentration.

Obi-Wan looks to you in mild amusement when the wooden comb that lays on your dresser suddenly goes flying, straight past Maya. Your head snaps towards her, hands still outstretched as her bottom lip begins to wobble in fear and now, stronger than ever, you can feel her Force signature. Perhaps it’s because you’re her mother you’re able to sense her despite your disconnect from the Force. But you know what this means— that she’s Force sensitive, that she’s destined for great things, that there’s power in her blood.

You know it means that you’ll have to give her up to the Order.

Maya begins to cry, afraid, and both you and Obi-Wan move towards her to console her.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, baby,” you say, bringing her to your chest and placing a kiss to her hair. “It’s okay. Mommy can do it too, see?” She looks up, sniffling, wiping away her tear tracks as you raise your hand in concentration and pray that it works. It’s been so long since you’ve even attempted to use the Force, but for your baby you’d do anything.

It’s hard, at first. You feel like you’re underwater, searching for just a glimmer of light and you feel so cold. You reach out for it, only to be slammed into the barriers you’ve spent years building up. Memories you wish you could forget swirl around you, diluted but sharp against your skin. You can feel it, just barely out of reach, that familiar pulse that’s as much a part of you as it is the rest of the universe and you latch onto it with all the effort you can muster.

The comb rises a few inches, wavering, before it finally clatters to the ground again. Your eyes meet Obi-Wan’s and you can see the disappointment in his eyes. A long time ago, you could’ve lifted that comb up without having to blink. It’s a cruel reminder of all that you’ve lost, of all that you once were. But it’s enough to satiate Maya, who gets up from your lap excitedly to go inspect the comb.

“You knew this day was coming,” Obi-Wan murmurs to you, eyes trained on your daughter. He can read you like a damn book, always has been able to, and you know he can feel your apprehension at having to let her go.

“I know,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“If we don’t separate her from you now, it’ll be extremely difficult later on, and it might hinder her in the future,” he warns. “There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.” Then he turns to you, taking your hands in his own. They feel softer than your own, your hands calloused and rough from the accumulating years of difficult agricultural work. It’s insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it serves to remind you of how much things have changed. How much you’ve changed.

“I know.” You don’t dare to look away from Maya, watching her because you know all too well that you will never see her again. You’re afraid to even blink, because you don’t want to risk missing even a millisecond of her. She’ll be gone by nightfall, but all you want is to hold her in your arms and, selfishly, keep her here with you. You should be glad that she has this opportunity. That she’ll accomplish everything that you never could. The part of you that was raised as a Jedi beams with pride, excited for her to thrive, even if it’s away from you. The part of you that’s her mother wants to burn the Order to the ground just to get one more year with your baby.

Instead, you take a deep breath and accept that you have to let her go. “She’ll be safe, right, Master?”

“I promise she’ll be safe,” he assures you. “I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes.” Obi-Wan squeezes your hand and gets up, walking out the door. You notice that it’s unusually overcast today, instead of the usual sun that you expect from Lothal. An unusual day in its entirety.

“Maya,” you call out softly. You do your best to hold your tears at bay, because you don’t want your last memory with her fragmented by sadness. Even when she forgets what you look like, you want her to remember that you loved her, that you were happy with her.

Your daughter, your sunshine, sports a toothy grin when she looks up at you. “Yes, mama?”

“Isn’t it so incredible that you can do something this amazing?” You ask her, trying to seem as excited as possible. You want her to be excited about being a Jedi, and you know that means you’ll have to fake your own excitement. She nods, confused but excited. “Well, because of that, you get to go with Uncle Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple. And you’re gonna learn how to do so many things, Maya, and you’re gonna get so strong.”

“Strong like Anakin Skywalker?” She asks you, hopeful. You laugh and nod, looking up so that the tears that prick at your bottom eyelid won’t fall. “And mama, you’re coming with me?”

You sigh and bite your lip, struggling to maintain your enthusiasm because you’re gonna miss your sweet girl so much. You hold her little face in your hands, kissing her forehead before leaning back to look at her. “No, baby. Your mama isn’t as strong as you are. And I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but just remember that mama’s always gonna love you, okay, baby?”

Maya nods, but you know she doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s calm because you’re calm, but the pain of separating from Maya is the most difficult thing in the world. How much will life cruelly rip away from you?

You hold her tightly in your arms as you continue to fight back your tears, holding her for the last time. “If you’re ever scared, know that you can always go to Uncle Obi-Wan, and if you can’t find him, you can always trust Anakin Skywalker.” She nods, and you separate from her, managing a weak smile before getting up and walking with her outside. Obi-Wan waits outside of his jet, smiling kindly at your daughter and you with that deep understanding in his eyes.

“It’s time,” he says, and you watch her board the jet, waving them goodbye and watching until the jet becomes a distant pinprick in the sky. Then you turn and walk away, feeling hollow inside all over again.

~~~

It’s been three months since Maya left home.

Despite the fact that she’s alive and well, there is still a shadow of grief cast upon you. You feel as though she’s been ripped from you too soon. However, it isn’t as painful as what you felt when you were exiled to Lothal six years ago. Your solace comes from the connection you feel with Maya. Despite the distance, it’s strong and unwavering. You can breathe easier as soon as you feel her, and know she’s okay. That’s all you need now.

Since her departure, you’ve found yourself trying to find that connection to the Force all over again. It’s not something you find yourself doing intentionally, but rather while you’re in the fields, you realize your focus is trained on the pebbles in the field, trying desperately to make them rise. But you just… can’t. You don’t know if it’s the mental blocks, or if you’ve genuinely lost the ability to harness the Force. Your life is tearing at the seams, but you’re desperately trying to keep it all together.

You’ve noticed that the air around you has felt almost jagged, and you know something’s wrong but as long as it isn’t Maya, you can’t be bothered to care. You’ve long left the universe to its devices, and you know by now that you can’t meddle with what fate has planned. It’s been a slow build of toxicity, forcing you to breathe a little faster, a little shallower. But right now, sitting in the hut you call home, it’s borderline unbearable, and you find yourself seeking out that connection with Maya.

You expect her to feel calm, as she has every day for the past three months. But what you feel from her is fear. You’ve never felt anything like it from her, and it makes you panic even more.

Maya? You think, hoping that she’ll hear you somehow. You’re not skilled in the Force anymore, not by any means, but you need her to hear you. You need her to hear your voice, to know that she’ll be okay. Besides, Obi-Wan and Anakin were most likely close by. Maya knows to trust them, and if they’re there, she’s safe. Maya, you urge again, despite your attempts to subdue the panic that rises in you when her fear won’t go away. Her fear breaks your heart and you’re beginning to get scared now, because she shouldn’t be afraid. The Jedi Temple is safe. So if she’s unsafe, has she wandered away from the Temple? She could be kidnapped, and your heart begins to race as you focus on trying to connect to her. You need her to talk to you, to tell you what’s going on. It may be detrimental to her training as a Jedi to reinforce attachment, but you’re her mother, not a Jedi. So, rules be damned, you reach out to your daughter to make sure she’s safe.

Your voice in your head is so loud as you call out for Maya that you can’t make sense of much else. And you can connect to her, just briefly, before you feel a stabbing pain in your chest and the connection is severed.

“Maya?” You whisper aloud, standing up as adrenaline overtakes you. You close your eyes and try desperately to reestablish your channel with Maya, but you cannot feel her. Your anchor to her is gone, and you can hear your heart beating as you desperately try over and over again, searching in the darkness, to find her. “Maya!” You scream. Your knees buckle from beneath you and your fists meet the floor, dragging against the dirt as you draw them closer to your body.

You pound your fists against the floor until they bleed, screaming her name until your voice goes hoarse. You don’t want to believe it, you refuse to. You convince yourself that it’s just because you’re losing your touch, you lost the signal because you’ve lost your skill, and collect yourself up off the ground to crawl to your transponder. Surely if something was wrong, Obi-Wan would’ve sent you a message. The transponder is blank, and you sigh in relief.

But when you reach out for Obi-Wan, you can feel him. If you can reach out to him, why can’t you reach out to Maya? And why does Obi-Wan feel afraid? In your entire life, you’ve never felt him afraid like this. And that grief, that riptide of grief that’s threatening to swallow him whole, you’ve never felt anything like it. And it only confirms what you wanted to deny.

Maya is dead. And you sent her to her death.

“No,” you murmur, standing up. The action is dizzying and you sway as you walk towards the door and out of your home. “No, take me instead. No, no, it can’t be her, she’s just a child. Take me instead,” You plead. You don’t know who you’re begging. The Force? The Maker? There is no Maker to listen to you. If there was, this wouldn’t have happened. But still you beg.

You wander into the forest, the Lothal sun burning every inch of skin you have exposed. You trip over the branches but it doesn’t stop you, crawling on the forest floor until the energy is lost from your body and all you can do is stare at the sky. It taunts you, cruel and bright as you continue to beg and pray that the Force take you instead of Maya. You’d be willing to suffer every moment of your life so long as she was okay because there is no greater pain than this. If you hadn’t deluded yourself into thinking that she’d be safer away from you, she’d be alive right now. Her being a Jedi didn’t matter to you, it never did. You’d sent her to the Temple because you thought she’d be better off there than with you. If you hadn’t pushed her there, if you’d just kept her by your side…

It’s all your fault.

Your nails dig into your skin but you can’t feel it, so detached from your body that you don’t feel the branches and jagged rocks pressed into your back as you scream. Who will remember Maya when you and Obi-Wan are gone? She should’ve outlived you. To start a legacy of her own. She still had so much to live for, and dammit, it isn’t fair that you got to live while she didn’t.

~~~

You don’t know how much time elapses while you’re on the forest floor, wishing the roots and vines would swallow you whole and take you into the Earth. The only company you find is your grief, that ugly monster that has followed you wherever you go. Your mind alternates quickly between denying it, convincing yourself that it was all a bad dream, to the empty awareness that it was all real.

You pull yourself up, feeling your skin crawl at the stillness of your body, and you walk aimlessly. You’ve walked through these woods with Maya so many times before. The memories are like ghosts, haunting you. You just wish you could forget everything, because this pain is unbearable.

That’s when you hear your name, just like how you heard it years before. Anakin’s voice. You turn and you see him emerging through the darkness of the night, but you’re frozen. He calls your name out again, walking closer to you still. He looks different now, but he feels different too.

“Are you real?” You whisper. The sight of him is almost cruel to you. He doesn’t say a word, just nods and comes closer to you and runs his thumb over your jaw. It’s intimate and heart wrenching and you can feel it. He’s here, he’s really here. You don’t know how he always finds you when you’re at your weakest, but it feels so easy to melt into his arms.

“Prove it,” you sigh. Anakin sweeps you closer to him and kisses you. His lips are consuming, familiar, and he kisses you with a dizzying aggression. Anakin kisses you until you’re lightheaded, suffocating you. His tongue dances with yours and his teeth clash against yours as he kisses you in a frenzy. You feel your back hit a tree and you feel him cage you with his arms against the tree.

Anakin’s hands find their way to your hair and he tugs, sharp enough to make you gasp in pain. It makes him smile, lips curving upwards as they’re pressed against your open mouth. His hands explore your body like he’s forgotten everything, thumb pressed into every dip in your body and nails dragging against whatever skin is exposed. He’s rougher with you than he’s ever been before, but you don’t complain because the pain runs alongside your self-hatred.

Anakin makes light work of your clothes, stripping you of the simple tunic that you wear for work and leaving you topless as he works to remove his own clothes. He moves fast enough that you’re not allowed a moment of thought, and for that, you are grateful. His teeth sink into the muscle of your shoulders and down to your breasts, painful and possessive but you relish in it. You absorb his neediness, his demands as he marks your body. You cry out at the pain and he clamps a firm hand over your mouth, rising up to look you in the eyes.

And, Maker, those eyes. How could you have forgotten their intensity? His eyes are burning fires, brows drawn together as he drinks in the sight of you. There’s no love lost between the two of you as you use one another selfishly. He doesn’t care for you anymore, but the same can be said of you. It’s been too long, and you’ve left one another with wounds too deep to be healed with a kiss. But you can’t deny that you’re his, your souls tied to one another in a way far too significant to overlook.

Anakin’s hand moves from your mouth to brush your hair back, and it’s a form of intimacy that you know is wrong.

“I hate you,” you whisper, trembling. You can feel him pause, absorbing your words and you know they hurt him. You can see it in his eyes, too, the walls slamming in place as you force yourself to push him away. You don’t mean it, really. You just want somewhere to shunt your anger. You wish he had known about Maya, you wish he had been there to save Maya. The guilt inside of you is consuming you, and you want him to carry that burden too, to burn like you are right now.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Anakin’s tongue trails against your cheeks, lapping each teardrop up. He grinds his hips into yours, bulge pressing against your clit through layers of clothing and you groan as your pussy flutters. He pulls back and laughs at you sharply, before craning his neck down to kiss you fiercely again.

“Look at us,” he says, tauntingly. He pinches your nipples, lips continuing to fuse against yours as you dig your nails into the flesh of his back. “Do you ever wonder,” he pants against your mouth as you palm his bulge, “what would’ve happened if you hadn’t abandoned me?”

You scoff and sink your teeth into the muscles above his collarbones, making him groan in pain. Your hands rest at his belt, toying with the lightsaber at his belt and you miss having your own. You want him to hurt like you did. You don’t want to think at all.

“Less talking, more fucking,” you groan, tugging his trousers off and slipping your own off until you’re both left bare. His cock rests against your thigh, hard and warm, and when you grasp it in your hand Anakin whines loudly. “You’re pathetic,” you laugh, sinking your nails into his thighs and leaving little crescents in his skin. Maker, you missed him. Being this close to him elicits all kinds of emotions— all that anger, all that lust, all that longing that you buried deep down for so long bubbles up to the surface and spreads across your skin and you feel hot, hot and dizzy and you want him inside you already, dammit.

You slide his length across your wet slit, teasing yourself with the right balance of pressure as the head of his cock sits at your entrance. That’s when Anakin grasps your chin with two fingers, firmly but gently, and forces you to look him in the eyes. His eyes mirror the same carnal lust that you’re feeling right now, but deeper still there is that bond that the two of you have. It remains steadfast and unbroken and you can feel his love for you, despite the unkindness that life has shown that bond.

I love you, he mouths to you. Silently, as if using his vocal cords would give you too much power. It’s a weak and flimsy promise, but you can’t help mouthing it back to you silently. You allow the wave that is Anakin Skywalker to swallow you whole and forget yourself for a little bit.

He pushes into you without warning, sliding his entire length into you and holding it when the base of his cock is brushing against your folds. He feels warm and thick inside of you, and it’s addicting. Anakin allows you to just barely catch your breath before he withdraws and slams it into you again, fucking you roughly with the tree bark against your back and the friction of his chest against yours on your front. He fucks you carnally, intensely, like he knows what he wants from you and he won’t stop until he gets it.

Anakin’s fingers dig into the flesh of your love handles as he hammers into you relentlessly, almost bruisingly in their hold. It feels like he’s holding you tighter for every moment you’ve been apart and you look down to watch him slide in and out of you over and over again.

He holds you up with one hand and the other begins to wander downwards, pressing against the soft curve of your tummy where you can feel it bulge when he fucks you.

“You feel that?” Anakin asks, making you look at him through heavy lids as you try to maintain that facade of composure despite the way that you’re losing your mind with each stroke. “You feel how good we fit, baby? And you wanted to take this sweet cunt away from me. You’re mine, you know that? Mine. And I’m never letting go of you again.” The latter half is a growled promise full of desperation that’s accumulated over years. You can’t manage a response, too distracted by his hips meeting yours and the lewd sound of your bodies, hearts, souls entangling.

Anakin moves his warm hand from your belly to your neck, decorating your throat before he just barely squeezes. It’s just enough pressure for you to slip into that woozy space where every sensation is heightened and you feel like you’re floating.

You allow yourself to get lost in him as he fucks you.

You’ve forgotten how impossibly full he makes you feel, stretching you out and forcing the breath out of your lungs. It feels like he’s going deeper with every stroke and every time his hips meet yours, your core tightens and you can feel the lightning bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine.

“Say my name,” Anakin pleads.

“Anakin.”

“Again.”

“A-Anakin,” you moan. You can feel yourself getting closer, each driving force connecting you to him and pushing you more to the edge. Your walls tighten around his length and he continues to use the pads of his fingers to circle your clit, providing just the right amount of stimulation as he lays his claim on you. He moans your name as he finishes but continues to thrust into you, determined to please you.

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes and you close your eyelids, allowing them to escape as your body processes everything. You sob his name, broken, as you reach your climax, but he does not taunt you this time— no, he holds you close as you cry and shares your grief as much as he can without knowing what your tears are for.

He slides out of you and begins to dress you. It reminds you of the way you dressed him so many years ago at the Lake Palace, before everything went wrong. You want to tell him about Maya. He was her father, after all. But you know that he’s also the Chosen One, and it’s also your responsibility to make sure he doesn’t have the kind of attachment that pushes one into the Dark Side. The kind of attachment and love that a parent would have for their child.

“You’re so different now.” You manage a weak smile at Anakin, and he kisses the palm of your hand. You trace the scar over his eyelid with your thumb and run your fingers through his long waves. There is love hidden in your touches, love that he cannot afford to keep but love that you’ll give him regardless.

He turns away from you and begins to slip on his clothes, and that’s when you fish out the comlink from your pockets. There’s a message from Obi-Wan and you play it quietly next to your ear.

“Anakin killed Maya.” That’s all he says before the message ends, and you have to replay it because you just don’t understand what he means. Anakin. Your Anakin, the one who would never hurt someone, much less a defenseless child. He killed Maya? Not just any child, but his own daughter? Was the Chosen One unable to feel that he was her daughter? It simply didn’t make sense. You don’t want to believe it, either, but you realize that this whole time that Anakin’s Force signature has been muted, more than you’re used to.

With Anakin’s back still turned to you, you stalk over to his lightsaber, holding it in your hands. There’s no going back if you turn it on. If you turned it on and it was red, it would be undeniable proof that Anakin Skywalker is a murderer, that the Chosen One had fallen to the Dark Side. It would be proof that he had single-handedly made your life devoid of any purpose.

You turn it on.

You can see Anakin’s back stiffen as the lightsaber hums and before it can fully light up, you’ve already moved it next to Anakin’s neck.

His form is bathed in the red glow of his lightsaber, and you feel sick to your fucking stomach.

“It was you?” You whisper in disbelief. Obi-Wan might have told you who killed Maya, but you didn’t want to believe it. You can feel Anakin deshielding himself and now, you can feel it in his Force signature— there is an undeniable darkness within him.

The saber radiates pain from your fingers to your elbow, slowly creeping upwards, but you ignore it. Your anger makes your heart pump pure poison and power, and as Anakin turns towards you, you raise the blade and swing it down. He jumps out of the way.

“You have to listen to me, the Jedi Order is evil! They’re the real evil! They tried to kill me—”

“What, did they make you kill the younglings too?” You scoff, swinging the saber wildly as he backs away from you. The saber is heavy and the blade, corrupted by its master, only causes you more pain to wield it.

“That wasn’t me!” He shouts, and all you can see is red. You scream at him, a noise full of pain and sorrow because his lies only add to your suffering.

“Don’t you dare lie to me. You, you killed my fucking daughter,” you scream, and you’re close enough this time that the swing of the lightsaber burns cleanly thru his robes.

“You have a daughter?” Anakin asks, shocked, as he harnesses the Force and pushes you a few feet away.

“She trusted you,” you sob, voice breaking as you stumble towards him again and swing blindly. “I told her she could trust you. I told her she was safe with you.”

You can feel the fury rising within Anakin before he even speaks. “Perhaps it’s for the best. After all, what future would she have as the daughter of some weak, worthless bastard?” His words cut through you like glass and his fury leaves you reeling.

“Maya was your daughter. Yours! Your flesh and blood!”

“Liar!” Anakin screams, sweeping his hand and sending you flying into a tree.

“You know I’m not lying to you. I’m sure you felt it in her, too. Did she come running to you for safety?” You sob, getting up and ignoring the pain that shoots up your back at the movement. “I told her she was safe with you.”

“You should’ve told me,” Anakin shouts. “That was my daughter, too, you didn’t think I had the right to know about her? Maker, were you ever going to tell me about her?”

“I was protecting you! I gave up everything to keep you safe. Everything! You took away the one thing that gave me life after I had to leave everything behind! And for what?” You laugh bitterly. Anakin’s lightsaber is heavy and painful to wield and it feels like it’s burning your arm, but your fury fuels you and you drag the saber on the ground as you stumble towards him. Little embers burst into flames as the glowing red touches it, spreading behind you till the trees are ablaze with your anguish.

Anakin lifts you up with a single movement of his hand, choking you in the air as you struggle and you’re reminded of just how strong he is. You fight back, and both of you collapse in exhaustion as the power that the other exerts over you wins. You’re quicker to recover, feet dragging behind you as you make your way to Anakin, who kneels on the forest floor and looks up at you with emotions that you can’t quite decipher.

“I loved you,” you sob, hovering the lightsaber right next to his neck and trying to summon the strength to kill the love of your life. “All I wanted for you was to become the man you were always meant to be, to use that power for good.” You gasp, tears rolling down your face. The smoke from the fires burning around you singes your nostrils and eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the pain that Anakin is putting you through.

“That’s why I left. I didn’t want you to have any distractions, any temptations in your path. I refused to be your downfall. You think I abandoned you? I had nothing when I came here, nothing! Maya saved my life. And you took her away from me. You took everything from me.” You can barely see him anymore, tears blurring the image of the man before you and you don’t have the strength to wipe them away, both hands still grasping the handle of the lightsaber as you shake.

“Her blood is just as much on your hands as it is on mine,” Anakin refutes. He holds you in his gaze and the amount of rage in his gaze makes you uneasy, but you laugh bitterly at his words.

“You think I don’t know that? All I can think about is how if I hadn’t sent her there, she’d be alive, Anakin.” He’s crying too now, tears carving their way down the ash residue left on his face from the fire. You blame him, you blame yourself, you blame everything. You just want Maya back.

You lose your grip for just a second, weakened by the heavy toll that grief exerts on you, but a second is all that Anakin needs. He quickly disarms you and twirls the lightsaber to face you, rising and pushing you down with his feet.

“Kill me,” you whisper, closing your eyes. You don’t want to keep fighting anymore. The universe would take revenge on Anakin for you, but you’re just too weak to carry on. Not without Maya.

Anakin laughs darkly at your request and you can hear the hum of the lightsaber fade. The only thing you can hear is the fire as it spreads and the sound of his breathing as he stands above you.

“You kept my daughter away from me, and she’s dead because of that. I won’t kill you, my love. No, that would be a kindness to you. You’re going to live, and you’re going to wake up every day with her death on our hands. If I am to carry this burden, I won’t do it alone. Live, and suffer.”

Anakin walks away from you as you open your eyes. Your last glimpse of Anakin is with his back turned to you, flames licking at the bottom of his robes as he leaves you in the fire, a fire so bright you could mistake it for a supernova. You want to stay here, let the inferno swallow you whole, but you drag yourself to the hut where the remaining settlers are frantically rushing into the forest to put out the fire.

Your Anakin Skywalker, the man you loved for so long, has been dead for a long time. Now, you have to learn to live in his aftermath.

~~~

Twenty-three years since Maya’s death.

It still feels like part of you was cut away that day, but you’ve learned to live without that part. It still hurts, every morning, but time has been kind to your memories of Maya. You don’t think about her suffering or her death, but the brightness of her smile when she was with you. And you live your life, as best as you can. The Empire has ravaged Lothal far too many times to count but the little sparks of rebellion bring you hope.

Anakin doesn’t cross your mind much anymore. In the earlier years, when he did, the memory of him was associated with rage. But you’ve grown and you understand now that the man who killed Maya was not the same man who you grew to love in your childhood.

You’re washing your hands when you can feel something shift. It’s slight, and so far away you barely register it. You can feel Anakin, the way he was so many years ago when he was still uninfluenced by the Dark Side. Your Anakin.

And just as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. After his death, Anakin Skywalker had returned only to die again. Something about that gave you a certain peace, to know that he died as himself.

You don’t know why you find yourself turning around but you do anyway, and before you is the glowing blue Force ghost of Anakin Skywalker. There’s kindness in his gaze, one that you didn’t see when you were last with him. You don’t dare to look away from him because you know when you do you’ll have to let everything go all over again. He looks innocent, the way you think he would’ve looked if the Dark Side hadn’t influenced him.

By the time you blink, he’s gone, with no evidence that he was ever really there.

When the sun is set and the world goes quiet, you go outside to look at the stars. There’s one that’s brighter than all the others tonight.

For some reason, it reminds you of Anakin.

#star wars fanfic #star wars #amongst the stars #my writing #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #smut #fanfic #angst

498 notes · View notes