#The commander has been on my mind heavy the last few days

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Four- Cooperation

Summary- Cregan Stark has a proposition and Aemond struggles with the lord’s arrival.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Grief. Talks of treason. Angst cuz I literally can’t stop. Semi public sex. Also private sex. There's a lot of sex. Mild breeding kink. Praise kink. Jizz?? Dry humping. Discussion of dead babies and children. And Alys cuz apparently she needs her own warning now. Cockwarming.

Author’s Note- sorry this took longer than usual it’s end of semester and I am a shell of my former self lmao. Anyway this is once again debatably too long (10.2k) and the full chapter is linked below as usual :)

series masterlist

It takes a few more days than she had hoped before she is able to speak with Cregan Stark. It seems as though the council had been saving the true work for after the coronation and now they refuse to allow a day to pass without attempting to fix one issue or another. She learns very quickly that even with a council to do the heavy lifting, Aegon had done next to nothing in his six months on the throne, the realm still in shambles from the civil war that has destroyed it.

The Riverlands burnt and all but decimated due to Aemond and Vhagar. The Ironborn raiding every village, port, and town they can reach despite more than one letter arriving in Pyke demanding an end to it. All the great houses still at odds over their differing allegiances. Cregan Stark still thirsty for blood in order to avenge her mother and fulfill his promise to his men. King’s Landing only repaired with half measures after the revolt in the city and less than a quarter of the repairs underway. The list seemed never ending and by the end of each day, she finds a headache sitting heavy behind her eyes, so deep she can’t even attempt to massage the pain away.

To his credit, Aemond takes it upon himself to begin rebuilding the Riverlands himself, taking the initiative to lead the restoration. She has Corlys send word to Alyn Velaryon and command him to sail to Pyke with some of Velaryon fleet with the hopes that conversation and some bribing will be enough to stop Dalton Greyjoy from his raids. Lord Tyland informs them of just how much of the crown’s coffers he had spirited away and begins rationing what can be spared to begin repairing the city. Lord Larys assures them that the hunt for Aegon’s murderer is still well underway, though he has little to show for it.

It is Cregan Stark that is left to her. Handsome, bloodthirsty Cregan Stark. Where he had cast a glare upon almost everyone when he had arrived for the coronation, he had smiled at her, had been friendly and chivalrous. Though Aemond had vehemently disagreed, the council had all but unanimously decided that she was to charm him and turn him toward peace or, barring that, some acceptance of who was now ruling. She does not mind the task, already having planned to speak to the man and not prepared to be usurped less than sennight on the throne, so she agrees and leaves the council chamber with Aemond staring daggers into her back.

She is even more glad for the task as she sits on a bench in the gardens, eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sun as she waits for Lord Stark’s arrival. It feels as though it has been an age since she had the chance to simply be and in this moment, the sun warm and the air sweet with the smell of flowers, she feels completely and totally at peace. It is a strange feeling to have when worry and panic have been all she seemed capable of feeling as of late, but she will take it as it comes. She would rather feel this than the latter and she plans to enjoy it for as long as she is able.

A throat clears and she opens her eyes to see Cregan Stark standing before her, a servant at his side. The girl bows her head to them both before scurrying off as quick as she came and she stands from the bench with a smile.

“Lord Stark. I apologize for the delay in finally being able to speak to one another. My council seems content to work me like an ox now that everything has become more official but I insisted they release me so that I may fulfill my promise to you.”

He smiles as he offers her his arm. “I am honoured you were able to find the time at all, your grace. I know the early days in a new role can be exhausting.”

She mimics his smile gratefully as she takes his arm, allowing him to begin leading her through the gardens. They have not received the attention they deserved as of late- the shrubbery and bushes beginning to grow a bit wild, the flowers untrimmed- but she finds she likes it this way. Being so far into spring, everything is in bloom and beautiful even if they have not been well tended to, the green brilliant and dotted with red, yellow, purple, and white. She allows the silence to fall between them for a moment as she admires it all, feeling as though it has been too long since she has been allowed to enjoy something so simplistically pretty. Whenever she is given a gown or a piece of jewelry, she cannot help but feel as though it is a piece in this great game she never asked to play. The flowers, though, nature, they do not suffer the same fate.

Eventually, she knows she cannot allow for the silence to reign much longer and turns her head to look at the young lord. “My brother told me much about you in his letters. I feel as though you and I are already acquainted.”

Read the rest here :)

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#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #Aemond x fem!reader #Aemond targaryen x niece!reader #aemond x niece!reader #Aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #Aemond targaryen fanfiction #Aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

[marleysfinest]

nsfw! minors dni. cadet reiner x femreader. aged up to 21. cw: rough sex (consensual), degradation, blood

of all the days? of all the people?

you shrug off your jacket and wring out the excess water, coating the once-dry stone floor of the cave in a thin layer of rainwater.

"hey, watch it," he commands from behind you, "we're keeping dry here, remember?"

you shoot him a look of annoyance, and drape your coat over a lone boulder, hoping that it'd dry enough to be at least a little comfortable to wear back to the barracks.

ahead, the landscape has turned murky and grey as rainclouds unleash themselves with fury. the rain is so heavy it's almost impossible to see through it, and soon enough the grass is unable to soak it up quick enough. the only shelter for as far as you can see is this little cave, where you've both been forced to take refuge from the storm.

it had been a long day. the training exercise you'd embarked on had started off badly when you were partnered up with the man you detested the most. reiner fucking braun.

on the face of it, the task was simple; find your way to the outpost twenty miles away using a basic, barely-there map of the terrain. and indeed, it would've been simple, had both the weather not decided to take a turn, and had you decided to sheathe the map away for a while instead of keeping it in your hand for reference. had you done this, you wouldn't have dropped it when your horse got spooked by a rumble of thunder, it wouldn't have fallen into a puddle, and your horse wouldn't have stood on it. it was as good as useless, now.

"better hope this stops soon, we can't even get a fire going now. every bit of wood for miles will be soaked," he huffs, staring out at the rain with a scowl. every word is like nails on a chalkboard.

"yeah, alright," you retort, your voice heavy with annoyance, "you can save the I told you so bull for when we're back."

you turn away from him and perch on the boulder alongside your jacket. as you turn your gaze outside, you can feel his eyes on you, burning into you.

"you know I'm right though, don't you?" he asks, "we had the direction down for the next three miles. you didn't need to have the damned thing out, still."

you run your hands through your hair in exasperation. why did he always have to do this? to drive home his "expertise", brag about how he knew best, how it was his way, or the hard way? in a situation like this one, why did he still need to know that you agreed with him? against your best wishes, you bite your tongue, realising that if you were going to spend the next few hours with him until the rain stopped, it'd be better not to be at each other's throats the entire time. instead, you choose a somewhat dignified silence, and to your surprise he lets the argument go.

the time rolls by as you both sit in silence, staring at the rapidly flooding landscape outside, hoping and praying it'd stop, primarily to escape the awkward silence, never mind the prospect of spending the night in a freezing and damp cave. you stretch your legs out in front of you and shrug your shoulders to promote blood flow, and as you do so, you realise reiner is looking at you.

"what?" you ask, your voice carrying every bit of the hostile tone you'd intended. something about his expression was infuriating - was he smug?

"man, I really bother you, don't I?" he asks, crossing his arms and looking very pleased with himself. you scoff at his words.

"yes, you figured out my secret," you reply dryly. he's only more amused by your confirmation.

"what is it?" he asks, "come on, give me some specifics."

"why?" you retort, "you really want me to list the reasons I don't like you? here? now?"

"pretty clear request, I thought," he replies, the cockiness boiling over and breaking the last straw.

"alright - you're arrogant, you're cocky, you have this insufferable holier-than-thou attitude, acting like you're better than the rest of us despite the fact that we're all still cadets. you play this big brother card like you actually care, not like it's just a way to further your favour with the brass."

even you're surprised at what comes out, this pent up frustration over his very existence seeming to reach its peak. a look crosses his face that you can't decipher.

"hm. well, if it means anything, I don't like you all that much either," he replies, "this whole innocent, know-it-all facade you've got going on? it's kind of annoying."

you feel your cheeks flare red at his words. know-it-all? and innocent? what is that supposed to mean?

"come on, you look at the brass with these big, doe-eyes, lapping it all up and ignoring anyone trying to make a joke. you don't know how to have fun."

the disbelief must have been evident in your expression, because reiner's only grows more amused. you should have expected it, really, as he'd only invited the conversation, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. you push yourself up onto your feet, deciding that you'd had enough of the conversation if it meant that you're just going to be insulted.

"oh, come on!" he cries, "I've upset you?"

you try your best to ignore him, as you hear him get to his feet, too, and sense him stood behind you, keenly awaiting an answer.

"this is what I'm talking about," he continues, and you turn to look at him, "you don't know how to be light-hearted. you don't know how to have a good time."

the two of you stare at one another for a minute, and for the first time you notice the colour of his eyes. the rich, golden honey gaze staring back at you was almost pretty, if not for the fact that it belonged to him. his hair was still damp from the rainfall, his loose-fitting shirt still clinging in odd places as it dried, subtly defining his sculpted body. the sensations flaring in your stomach are deeply unfamiliar, with hatred and... was that lust? the two clashed together angrily, eliciting an alarming response. he was rubbing you up the wrong way. he was trying to get a rise out of you, and you want nothing more than to shut him up.

"that's a very uptight expression you've got there," he purrs, "y'know, sometimes when I'm upset, I like to..."

that's as far as you let him get before you reach out and grab him by the jaw.

"fine, braun. let me show you how I have a good time, and then we'll see how much you have to say for yourself."

you force his back against the cave wall and bring your bodies closer together, becoming increasingly aware of your heart thumping against your chest, and his growing erection against your thigh. good, you think, looks like he wants this, too. despite knowing he could throw you to the ground in a heartbeat, you maintain your forceful hold against him, and he lets you, as he looks down at you with an almost menacing expression. you release his jaw and allow your hand to explore his neck, his chest, his stomach, until you feel the strings of his trousers between your fingers. if you lingered long enough, you could start to feel his wetness begin to soak through.

"god, you're pathetic," you growl into his ear, "who's uptight now?"

a hefty sigh escapes him then, as the mood shifts.

"that's how you're gonna play it, huh?" he asks, but doesn't give you a chance to reply. before you can protest, he's batted your hands away and spun you round, marching you to the other side of the cave. he bends you over the boulder home to your drying uniform, scraping your elbows across the cold stone, and his grip on your shirt holding you firm between your shoulder blades. with his free hand he slips your trousers down with stunning ease, and soon he's pushing himself up against you.

"oh, you don't know how long I've thought about this," he purrs, and you can hear him removing his own trousers, "god knows you need it more than I do."

you scoff a laugh and feel a rush of dampness between your legs.

"yeah, right, braun," you retort, "I'll be the judge of that. if this lasts longer than ten seconds, colour me impressed."

he pushes the tip of his penis against your cunt as he considers his response. "I don't think you're in a position to continue being so arrogant."

with a firm thrust he enters you, forcing you to catch your breath. you feel him deeper than you expected, but he doesn't give you time to adjust before he's rutting into you with significant force. his grip on your hips tightens, making sure every inch of himself is inside of you with each thrust.

"look at that," he pants, "cunt's just as tight as you are."

against your best wishes, you find yourself unable to respond. he's so smooth, so hard that he's hitting the perfect spot every. single. time. you can't stop the whimpers escaping, but you're pleased to hear that neither can he. every moan you release seems to spur him on, forcing him to go quicker and quicker. you feel your elbows begin to bleed against the coarse rock beneath them, but you didn't care. the pain simply mixed with the pleasure into one mouth-watering cocktail.

you have to give him his due; reiner has stamina. the rain is starting to slow by the time you sense your climax building, and the way he's slowed his thrusts tell you that his is, too.

"what d'you say then, baby, you think we can be friends now?" he asks, his voice ragged. you huff a laugh.

"like hell," you spit back. he definitely likes your defiance of him, as his boisterous façade wavers slightly as he catches his breath and almost slows to a complete stop. not wishing to let the opportunity to pass you by, you push yourself up so that you're resting on your palms and begin setting your own rhythm, grinding against him, taking him slowly in and out.

"and you're gonna have to do a lot better to get to call me your baby."

this is his turning point. reiner grabs a fistful of your hair and resumes his hard thrusting, inching you closer and closer until you both come in unison. he throbs inside you for forever, and you feel the biggest mess start to leak between your legs. behind you, reiner pants heavily and release his hold on your thighs and hair. you turn your head so that your eyes meet, and you see that he's removed his shirt to offer to you.

"clean yourself up," he says quietly, "I'll just wear my jacket back. once we're back in the barracks I'll show you why I deserve to call you baby, you little bitch."

#paradis reiner said: #this was FUN #hate fucking is so alien to me lmao but i enjoyed it! #reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #reiner x yn #reiner braun #reiner smut #aot fanfic #aot smut

[adreamof-spring]

Read on Ao3

Pairing: Dark!Feysand Warnings: ((MILD HOFAS SPOILERS)), heavy dub-con, mild monster-fucking, violent sex

Pushed to the edge of all sanity, Feyre and Rhys grapple to find common ground, to find a resolution for another tired old argument that seems to plague them. Between the frenzy and the lust, can any understanding be found?

“Your sister has been nothing but a liability from day one,” Rhys snarled, and the sound of it was a vicious, ragged thing. His hand raked through his hair, casting the strands into uncharacteristic disarray. Shadows pulsed around him, over his wings and shoulders. They lashed and seethed, desperate for a target.

Feyre had to rein in her own low snarl, anger building at the base of her throat.

They’d been arguing for what felt like hours now, no closer to an understanding—no resolution in sight.

But that was the way these arguments always went, and if Feyre was honest, she was sick of being the mediator, being the voice of reason against the twin whirlwinds that were Nesta and Rhys.

Each of them harbored an ego the size of a kingdom.

She knew her sister had earned her verbal lashing, could see the terror that lined Rhys’s furor and understood it. But Nesta was her sister, and she refused to allow anyone to speak to her in such a manner, even if it meant fighting Rhys in the process.

“My sister has helped us time and again. My sister saved our lives, and that of our child, Rhys,” Feyre threw back at him, her ire rising to meet his own.

Rhysand’s jaw tightened, and she could swear she heard the gnashing of his molars. In his face shadows pooled, and his eyes were dark with a fury she’d rarely seen.

“Yes,” he spat, “something I’m duly reminded of every time there’s a disagreement between her and I. But that doesn’t change the fact she gave a weapon to—”

“I know what she did, Rhys!” Feyre’s voice rose, a perfect match to the tenor of his. “You’ve been bellowing about it for the last few hours. Enough.” It was a command, resolute as any she’d ever given. She lifted her chin and glared up at him, lips thin and slanted, daring him to speak against her.

Rhysand narrowed his eyes, and there was something cold and calculating about the way he looked at her now. It was predatory, glittering with rage and incredulity. Feyre realized she hadn’t had his gaze turned against her like this in years—since the time that they were Under the Mountain together, unlikely bedfellows.

His hands coiled into fists, and she thought she saw black-tipped talons curl out of his skin—a beast barely kept in check beneath the stretch of his skin. She’d seen the transformation before, the way scales would crawl up his arms, skin hardening into a blackened shine. It was only ever a cold, bitter rage that pushed that creature to the surface.

And though she tried to ignore it, a low and wicked heat pooled in her gut at the sight of it. Rightly or wrongly, his wrath had always twisted his features into a vision as beautiful as it was terrifying. But Feyre drew herself up, shoulders rigid as she held his stare.

“Is that it, then?” Rhys’s voice was cold as hoarfrost, quiet as death. He crossed his arms, the deep linen stretching tight against his biceps, and there—those black talons tapped lightly against his arm. “She gambles away the Trove into enemy hands, and the rest of us walk away like it’s nothing?” The contempt was thick on his tongue.

Feyre worked her jaw, digging deep within herself to find any measure of patience. “I said I’m done talking about this.”

“Well I’m not,” he clipped back, those talons stilling against his arm.

Feyre rolled her eyes and made for the door. She had to get out of here, had to put space between them before she lost her godsdamned mind.

Rhys stepped in front of her, every inch of him an imposing wall of shadow and steel.

“Move.”

“No.”

His tone had her spine locking, drawn straight and tight as as a white-hot rage slid down her bones. She could feel her fingertips heating, a flicker of flame threatening to ignite from under her skin. “I told you to move,” she snarled.

Rhys’s slow smirk was cruel as it slipped across his face. “Now you play the part of the High Lady? With me?” There was a challenge in his words, sharp and cutting.

“How dare you?” She seethed. Her palms burned, fire swelling in her veins, desperate to be unleashed.

But Rhysand’s answer was a dark, feathered laugh, sinister in its depth. “How dare I? Your sister blatantly disregards our rule, your rule, and you treat it as nothing. Give me one good reason I should listen to you when your sister does not.”

Feyre could barely think around the roaring in her ears. His vicious mockery had the crest of her anger threatening to swallow her whole. “I’ve had enough of you, Rhysand, and if you don’t get out of my way—”

Rhys leaned in, face inches from her own as he towered over her, pure menace and Illyrian brawn. “You’ll what? Tell me just how ‘disappointed’ you are?” Rhys scowled. “Or did you have some other dreadful punishment in mind?”

Feyre’s eyes flashed, and before she could dredge up the magic within her to winnow away, Rhysand’s hand clamped like an iron shackle around her wrist.

“I don’t think so,” he sneered, canines elongated and flashing now.

Feyre tried to wrench her hand free, but his grip was nearly unbreakable. His fingers flexed around her wrist with enough force to bruise.

Rhys moved quickly, shoving her against the door and pinning her under the hard lines of his body in one fluid sweep.

Instinctively, Feyre’s free hand flew to grip his throat, her thumb pressing firmly on the underside of his chin in warning. Her fingers met the cool, smooth texture of scales. They’d crept along the edges of his jaw and mottled across his neck, patches of black interspersed between smooth brown skin. Rhys was losing himself to his baser side, caving to that savage fury.

A fury Feyre intended to meet with every ounce of her own.

Feyre bared her teeth at him, and forced the fire in her veins down to her fingertips. The heat built slowly, burning both skin and scale beneath her palm. A scarlet rash worked up his throat from the heat, and though he winced at the pain, he didn’t release her.

“Let go of me or I will burn you, Rhys,” her voice was low, outrage and warning threaded through every note. It wasn’t an empty threat.

Rhysand’s gaze was hard and uncompromising as it slid over her face, eyes narrowing when they reached the petulant twist of her mouth. He wet his lips, and she couldn’t help but track the movement, eyes focused on the pink slip of tongue and the warmth she knew it promised.

She hated how her body responded to his touch. It was nearly instinctual at this point, an obscene craving that demanded the flick of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth. She clenched her thighs, cursing the slick heat that had started to pool between them.

She wasn’t going to fuck him, not when she couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t strangle him and burn his fucking skin off instead.

Rhys’s nostrils flared, and his mouth parted. “Do you want to hurt me, darling?” His voice was molten as the cruel words slid down her skin. He leaned in, breath hot on her face as he brought his lips to her ear. “Do you want to make me suffer?”

Yes, she did, and she didn’t want to think about how quickly the answer had come to her.

All she wanted was to tear her teeth into him and make him bleed. She wanted to force him to the floor and slide down his cock, claws raking over his beautiful tattooed chest.

The wet glide of his tongue up the column of her neck had her trembling, her chest heaving against his own. Every press of his body had her skin igniting, and she could feel the hard edge of his arousal between them.

The low fire in her palms flickered and guttered. A moan escaped his lips, and his hand released her wrist to smooth over her hips and down her backside.

And Gods, she wanted him—needed him to fuck her until she couldn’t see straight. The feeling warred with the anger that had taken hold in her chest, some rabid frenzy lost between lust and fury.

She felt his teeth drag over her skin, felt as his mouth clamped down hard and sucked. He groaned, and the sound was equal parts man and beast. Feyre hissed, the pain focusing her thoughts enough to remember the all-consuming fucking fury she felt towards him. She’d be damned if she gave in that easily. Her hand shot out to grasp at a wing, finding purchase on the bony edge of it and squeezing with all her might. Fucking prick.

Rhys pushed off of her, a strangled sound emanating from deep in his chest. Pain, pleasure, she couldn’t quite tell, and by the look on his face, she wasn’t sure he could either.

His chest heaved as he ruffled his wings, slowly tucking them back in behind him protectively. His stance was wide, as if he were ready to strike, or be struck.

Finally, Rhys growled, “If it’s disrespect you want, allow me to give it to you in spades.”

A clawed hand snapped around her throat, squeezing her windpipe and forcing her to her knees. Her bones crunched as she hit the floor, pain radiating up her legs. A final squeeze around her neck, and then his hand was wrapping around her golden-brown hair, pulling at the roots.

“Open,” he snarled.

Feyre glared up at him, pouring every ounce of loathing she could into that stare. “Fuck you,” she spat. And despite herself, a thrill coiled low and tight with a throb that took hold in her wet cunt.

Pain burst across her scalp as Rhys yanked her head back. “Very well,” he breathed, ripping at the fastenings of his breeches. A dark, scaled cock sprang loose, and before Feyre could so much as breathe he had pressed it to her mouth, lips forced around the girth of it as he slid inside.

She could feel every scaled ridge along his shaft, the wide, and angled flat tip of his head—so at odds with what she had come to know.

He groaned at the warmth of her, and a dangerous, crooked grin slashed across his face. “That’s it…” he murmured, and the sound of his voice had her skin tightening, some wanton mix of pleasure and viciousness radiating from head to toe.

She guided his cock to the back of her mouth, taking care to scrape every last tooth over the length of him, pinching between her teeth. He hissed and his grip tightened, and triumph surged through her, except—

“You think I don’t enjoy a little pain?” He laughed, and the sound was grim and dark and anything but kind.

With an iron grip still fisted in her hair, he slammed himself to the back of her throat. Feyre gagged, the sound wet and slick and wretched, but the sound only seemed to encourage him. He pulled out and slammed himself to the hilt once more, hitting the back of her throat. Tears burned her eyes, and she gripped his thighs to keep herself upright, gasping when and where she could.

“I take—” Rhys started as he slid out of her mouth once more, spit slick against her face and around his cock.

“—what I want—” In.

“—because I’m—” Out.

“—the High Lord,” he hissed as he snapped his hips forward one final time, punctuating his words with a savage brutality. Feyre’s throat constricted as she gagged around every thick inch of him, and tears were streaming unbidden down her face. She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, felt his body shudder under her palms as he rasped a heavy grunt.

Sticky, hot seed filled her mouth, and though every last thread of her being told her she should be disgusted, should clamp her teeth around his cock one final time for good measure—she swallowed what she could, her tongue lapping at the sweet taste of him, curling her tongue around his tip and up his delightfully textured shaft.

Another shiver rippled down his body, and the sound he made was positively shameless.

The heft of him slowly slid out of her mouth, over her red, tender lips. Feyre looked up at him through the thick line of her tear-crusted lashes. Those eyes, cruel, calculating eyes, trailed across her face, not a fleck of starlight in their depths. Nothing but pure, undiluted hunger.

Rhys tucked himself away and bent his knees to crouch before her. Light flickered over the sheen of scales across his neck. “Have you learned your lesson then, princess?”

A surge of indignation washed through her, overcoming the need that pulsed between her legs. Feyre’s face twisted with defiance, and her eyes sparked with a willful fervor as she spit in his face.

His lip curled, something between a grimace and a grin. With the back of his hand he wiped away the mix of fluid from his cheek.

“I’ve cut out people’s tongues for less.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes, not a spark of fear within as she leaned forward, her mouth ghosting over his own. “Try me.”

Rhysand’s gaze dropped, trailing an unrepentant line over the curve of her lips. “Well...I think you know just how much I love your wicked little mouth. And besides, what good would it be without being able to wrap around my—”

Rhys’s face cracked to the side as Feyre leveled a slap across his face.

His jaw tightened as his eyes slid back to her.

Another resounding slap, and this time his lip busted with the force of it.

Blind with fury, her blood sang with the hit. All the anger and rage had exploded through her veins, forcing her hands to levy their retribution in answer to his wicked words and the perverse degradation of them.

Feyre felt frenzied, her thoughts and body swinging wildly between a ruinous rage and blistering need, barely able to make sense between the two. Those emotions consumed her, clawing up her throat and back down her bones. Perhaps it was Feyre’s youthful vigor, her short couple decades of existence that made her lash out so vicious and volatile. But she was the fickle fire to Rhys’s cold, deathly rage. And perhaps that, too, was due to the centuries of honing his fury. Whittled and needled to a fine-tipped point—a razor’s edge.

Rhys raised a finger and swept it across his lip, blood smearing in his wake. Those talons twitched, and Feyre wondered if he felt the same urge she did—the biting, gnashing of teeth, the itch to make him hurt. Did his hands tremble with the force of keeping them from tearing into her? It was a sickly sweet sensation, raw and entirely voracious. Her mouth watered at the prospect.

And here, caged in this moment, caught between four shrinking walls, there was something so familiar about the way they looked at each other.

Visions of dark dungeons and reeking cells flitted through her mind’s eye. She remembered a time they’d faced off, not so dissimilar to this. The arrogant and cruel Lordling, manipulative down to his marrow. And her, the hopeless, snarling girl with defiance and hate blazing in her eyes.

At their base, had either of them really changed? Was some part of them confined to these roles when stripped of civility and pushed to their limit?

“Of all the ways you look at me, Feyre, I think this one I love the most.” His eyes flickered, and there was a flash of something dark and merciless there, as if he, too, were retracing their steps under that mountain.

“So pretty when you’re angry…” he murmured low.

With surprising gentleness, his talons dragged along her jaw, careful not to nick despite the brutal pain she had inflicted earlier. She wanted to scream at him to fight her, to fuck her—perhaps both or neither, or everything in between.

“You’ve always been so disobedient, so defiant,” his hard, scaled knuckles smoothed across her cheek, and his lips curled into a tight smile. “I confess,” he drawled with serpentine poise, “I struggle to behave when I see you like that.”

Feyre drew back, her legs still curled beneath her, knees on the cold, hard floor. Her skin drew tight, and her thighs grew impossibly slick. She gripped her thigh and squeezed with the intent to bruise, willing herself to focus on anything but the desire that pounded relentlessly through her.

“Have I ever told you how badly I wanted to fuck you Under the Mountain? How that anger, that hatred in your eyes just made me want to sink my teeth into you?” Rhys said quietly, a hint of danger in that velvet voice.

And Feyre would be lying if she said she hadn’t also felt a flicker of heat between them during their time beneath that sacred mountain. She’d fought desperately against it, but despite the cruel jokes and dreadful nights, his presence had made her insides twist and her body tighten with an inexplicable wash of emotion.

“You’re disgusting,” she breathed, and tried to sound firm. Tried.

He laughed, another wicked, slick thing.

“Insult me all you want, darling. I’d been sliding around that skull of yours for days, and I know it wasn’t disgust that had your stomach clenching.”

Rhys prowled over her, one knee resting along the hardwood floor as he pushed closer. Feyre leaned back against the door, no where to escape to. The hand around her jaw fell to her neck, and though his grip was gentler this time, he still wrapped his cold, hard fingers around her throat, pinning her to the door.

Feyre made a low sound, something between a moan and an angry growl. Her hand hitched further up her thigh, drawing the fabric of her dress up to bare cool, smooth skin.

“You sat rotting in that dungeon, wanting to know the taste of my lips,” he purred, and that voice was an invitingly dark rumble. Feyre watched as his free hand slid to where he’d tucked himself away, grasping and slowly pumping up his shaft.

A shiver racked through her body at the sight, and her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers reached the soft silk of her panties, slowly slipping a finger beneath the hem.

“You wanted to know what my fingers would feel like spreading you apart.”

Feyre swirled her fingers around her clit, a soft whimper slipping from between her teeth. Rhys moaned as he gripped himself tighter, moving his hand up and down in the most tantalizing rhythm.

“And more than anything, you wanted to know what it would feel like to have my tongue fucking into that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Pleasure shot through her, cutting away everything but the overwhelming sensation that crested. Her fingers moved swiftly, circling over and over as she sought that release. A moan came tumbling out, and she felt the ache in her muscles, the tight throb of her cunt just before the peak—

Rhys threw her to the floor, pushing her from her knees onto her stomach. Feyre cried as her arms were pulled up over her head, his cold hand crushing her wrists together painfully.

She shouted his name like an expletive, and he only laughed with wicked delight.

Face flush against the floor, she felt Rhys as he ripped her panties down her thighs, the band pulling tight against her. She felt the cool kiss of air against her wet skin and sucked in a breath. She knew what was coming, and didn’t know whether to fight it or beg for it.

She heard his breath, ragged and tight as he swept his hand through the slick heat of her.

“All of this, all of you,” he growled and slid the tip of his heavy cock against her entrance.

“Mine.”

And he thrust himself home, pushing every delectable inch into her sopping cunt. Feyre felt the hard, textured ridge of his cock slide against her walls. She shuddered around him, lost to the incredible sensation of his body like this—his cock hitting her in all new ways.

The stretch was the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure, a pinch that bloomed into some sordid bliss. Feyre moaned, and finally her own claws had broken through, rushing over knuckle and bone to tear at the flooring beneath her in a state of ecstasy.

Rhys released her wrists, dragging his talons down her back, no doubt scraping long, red lines into her skin—not enough to break the surface, but enough to leave a mark. Rhys buried himself to the hilt with each thrust, pushing her further and further. She wanted it all—as much as he could give.

Feyre felt his hand trail down her spine and grip her ass, squeezing the soft flesh there and sending frissons of pleasure down every nerve. His hand moved away, and the next thing Feyre felt was the white-hot pain of his hand across her backside.

She cried out, and tears pricked her eyes as her claws dug into the flooring. “Prick,” she seethed, and though it hurt, the pain brought with it a sense of purpose—a delicious agony that made her cunt tighten. She knew her skin would bear the angry, red strike of his hand.

She heard Rhysand’s low chuckle as he fucked into her. “We’re monsters, Feyre,” he began, and the words were underscored with something infinitely dark and sinister. “You might keep yours leashed under that pretty stretch of skin better, but don’t for one second think I don’t see it lurking there. We’re the same, you and I.”

‘We’re the same, you and I.’

She knew the words to be true, down to her marrow—to every shred of her soul. She’d seen it there, that monster in the Ouroboros mirror. Though their inner beasts might present themselves differently, they were equals in every way, as the Mother and Cauldron intended.

Love and hate, pleasure and pain, she wanted all of it, every drop that he would give, as he undoubtedly wanted hers. Selfish, cruel, wicked beasts—and they belonged to each other.

Feyre felt the sharp bite of his teeth against her shoulder, and wondered if he’d at last broken skin. She moaned under him, his weight pressing her to the floor as she writhed beneath him, lost to every last lovely, despicable sensation.

“I want to devour you,” he snarled against her back, his tongue laving over her skin before biting down once more. There was no softness in her voice, no shred of delicacy to taper the sounds that came out of her in answer.

Feyre raised her hips, desperate for him to slide in and against every angle of her body. His hand curved over her waist, down the stretch of her stomach and straight to her clit. Rough fingers circled around her, rubbing at that sensitive nub as he violently snapped his hips in and out of her.

Unending, near-unbearable pleasure rose from deep inside of her, and an urgency, swift and brutal, took hold. She needed—needed—to come, to feel his cock stretch her wide and fill her up.

“Rhys…” she moaned his name, and the sound of it alone conveyed everything she needed.

Rhysand’s fingers worked in tandem with each thrust, and the feeling of it was so sharp and sweet that Feyre felt like she might die from it—collapse into stardust and evanesce into nothing. His name tumbled off her lips once more.

“My pretty, little monster,” he crooned, near-breathless, and finally Feyre came undone.

A pleasured cry tore from her throat, and her body thrummed as wave after wave of her climax washed over her. Her muscles went tight and loose, and suddenly nothing mattered anymore—nothing but the feel of the male inside of her.

Rhys gasped, his breath shuddering as his body grew rigid and tight. Feyre pressed her backside into him, not a breath of space between their conjoined hips. She was hungry, ravenous for every drop he had, even after her own climax.

Rhys gave a shallow, muted thrust, and the way he spoke her name—the way his lips curved feverishly around it had her moaning all over again, just as she felt him spill himself inside of her.

“Fuck,” he ground out, and gave one last, small thrust, riding out the tail end of his climax.

Rhys curled around her, barely keeping the brunt of his weight off of her.

They were spent, and despite all arguments, despite all impassioned anger and righteous fury—they were together. Always.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #hofas spoilers #fanfic #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #my fanfic

[quinloki]

Hiiiii again had to tell you that i can't take the suspense for yandere Marco 😅 out of my mind hahaha

Alright \o/ Yandere Marco thoughts! I can't apologize for the delay it was most assuredly needed, but I appreciate the patience <3

Let's dive in -

expectedly - CW: Yandere, description of violence

Yandere Marco is subtle. Like his own controlled expressions, no one would suspect what lies existed beneath it all.

The only one who knows is you, and even then it's only because he didn't have time to be subtle with you. The Moby doesn't stay in port for long, and he only had a few days to court you instead of a few months.

In a modern AU, you'd fall into his web so neatly you'd simply never know. You'd never hear the concerned voices of friends who faded away slowly over the years. You'd never see the corpses of those who didn't back off. You'd never suspect the trackers worked into your shoes and clothes, in case you lost your phone.

In a modern AU you'd be wined and dined and intoxicated on the subtle smile and passionate eyes burning into your soul. Delirious on the sweet scent of someone who seems unconcerned about anything else, so long as your thoughts turn to him, your hands tangle with his, and your lips are solely for him.

But in the original universe, you know.

The fire that heals his wounds without leaving a mark are probably the last time you try to push him away. He'd been nice the first couple of days, you'd been interested, but the pirate would leave, so you assumed, until he told you how you were going to come with him.

No plea for you to do so, just a simple statement.

He went from suave and handsome, to twisted and terrifying.

Your disagreement had gone from verbal to physical quickly, though you had been the first to lash out. He'd taken everything you'd thrown at him, and as your own strength waned, your attack at become more desperate. The lumber axe you used to prep for winter had been sheer desperation, and you hadn't expected it to connect.

He accepted the blow, and you even heard bone crunch from the heavy swing, but that unbothered expression didn't change. If anything it softened as he pulled the axe away gently and strange teal and gold flames undid the damage. The only detail that remained was blood stained into his shirt around the tear from the axe.

The understanding that sinks into you is deeper than the axe into his body.

and you know, you already knew at that point how revered he was, how, as the Division 1 commander of the famous Whitebeard pirates, he was akin to a noble compared to you. The sweet smile on his lips as he sushes you softly, the compassion in his voice as he soothes your rising fears, wiping away the silent tears streaking down your face and you come to understand it all.

And so you accept it, and him, and you go along peacefully. There's no other choice truly, and he goes out of his way to appease you, to avoid harming you. The few times his grip gets rough he clears the offending mark from your skin.

That's another moment when you really understand it all.

Eventually the ship gets a new crew member. A wild young man full of fire - literally. It's the first time in years since Marco's attention isn't 100% on you. You can see a similar inevitable fate closing around him, as he throws all he has into trying to bring down Pops, but you know this crew. The young man couldn't bring down any of the commanders on his own, never mind Pops.

There is one thing though, with the addition of him and his crew, there are now people on the ship who won't automatically tell Marco anything and everything you say to them. You know from the others it's not malice, but care and concern that spurred them on, but you learned quickly to not confide in anyone.

Through a few quick conversations, you get Duece's assistance in getting off the ship. His loyalty is to Ace, more than anyone else, and if you want to leave he doesn't see why he needs to remember that, since that's what you want.

You make it far.

You make it far enough for long enough you start to relax. To read the coo news, to watch the world. The fiery boy had been executed, and the whole crew had gone to save him. There's a pang, a knowing that sits in your heart, but nothing heavy, nothing that lasts.

You hear about the pay back wars, the return of the Straw Hat pirates, the fall of Dressrosa - news comes into your quiet little town on the small out of the way island where you've made your new life.

The world got too busy and too dangerous for him to come after you.

But

One day

As the world celebrates the birth (rebirth?) of the Sun God Nika, and a changing world, it happens.

Weaving through the streets pack with people, food and confetti you make your way home. You had a late shift, and you've given all you had to the celebration, but now you need rest.

Opening the door to your small home you sense it before you see it - sharp, fiery blue eyes, regarding you kindly as the door to your home closes softly behind you.

"Pretty bird," he says softly. Warmly. Kindly.

#quin answers #mfreedomstuff #yandere #marco the phoenix #reader insert #x reader

[evergreenabyss]

As Good As It Gets

Pairing: Pantalone x Gender Neutral Reader, Aether x Reader if you squint

Warnings: none. I will write smut tho so minor's DNI

Content: Fluff

Words: 2.5k

Synopsis: You've heard the gossip about the traveler in Snezhnaya for years. When he appears in your greenhouse, you're excited to speak to him and his floating companion.

A/N: listened to As Good As It Gets by Abigail Barlow & Ariza + The Apartment We Won't Share by NIKI. A bit of a test since I've never written for Genshin before and we know almost nothing about Pantalone lol. Watch the characterization age like milk.

You sat reclining on a settee with a book and a cup of tea in your greenhouse when you heard the sound of the door swinging open to reveal a blonde-haired traveler and his floating companion. 

Your fiance had really outdone himself when he gifted you this lovely greenhouse for your birthday a few years ago. It had come with plants from all over Teyvat, from Sumeru Roses to Cecelias from Mondstadt. In the center of the room, past a small forest of various green plants, a pool of lotuses had been built in the middle. There was nothing you enjoyed more than taking a walk through here with your hand around your fiance's arm as the two of you chatted about your day. 

Though, he never talked much about his day, preferring to hear about yours. Anytime you told him about the hardships of taking care of your plants, he suggested letting the gardener do the work. You always refused. You loved your plants like they were your own children and you could not neglect them. He didn’t understand why you would do the work yourself when he could pay someone else to do it but he saw it brought you joy so he didn’t press too much.

Which brings you to today. You’d finished caring for your plants early so you’d sat down to relax with a warm cup of that tea you liked from Liyue and a new light novel from Inazuma when two strangers burst into your sanctuary.

You would have been afraid by the panicked look on their faces but you always had guards in here patrolling and your fiancé gifted you a dagger for emergencies as well. While these strangers were dressed weird, they didn’t look like they wanted to hurt you.

Setting the book down, you asked, “Are you alright?”

The blonde strangers let out heavy pants like he’d been running. Snezhnaya was having another dreadful snowstorm that lasted weeks so you were unsure why this person would be running around outside, let alone be wearing a crop top.

“Sorry for disturbing you but would you mind helping us hide?” The blonde stranger asked with pleading, apologetic eyes. 

In response, your eyes narrowed to study him. “Who’s after you? Why?”

“Paimon thinks we should hide somewhere else. The fatui weren’t that far from here.”

“We’re not criminals I promise.” The blonde boy smiled, putting a hand on his heart.

This was the most excitement you’d experienced in months. Everyone in Snezhnaya usually stayed inside to avoid the snowstorms. It was much different from the warm breezy days of Liyue where you came from. You had to know more about these two strangers. “Alright, get behind those plants over there. If they come in here, I'll get rid of them.” You pointed to the tall green leafy plants deeper in your greenhouse. Your guards would walk past it but you doubted they’d spot anything in there.

The blonde stranger nodded, doing as you commanded, with his floating companion following him. You opened your book again and took a sip of your warm tea. Not much later, a fatui agent walked into the room. You put your book down to see what he had to say.

“I apologize for the interruption.” You smiled at him and gave him an encouraging nod to continue. “We’re looking for a blonde haired traveler wearing strange clothes with a floating companion. Have you seen them? They were spotted in the gardens.”

“If I may ask, what has this traveler done?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, my liege. It’s confidential.”

So, this must be harbinger business. Interesting. “No, I'm afraid I haven’t seen anyone fitting that description. Are these people dangerous?”

“Yes. If you do see them, be sure to report the information to the Regrator or one of us.” You slowly nodded, your eyes slightly widened at his words and with that the agent left the way he came. 

Per your fiance’s request you always kept the blue jeweled dagger he gifted you strapped to your thigh. You’d never needed it before and those strangers didn’t look dangerous. Maybe you should alert one of the fatui agents…

And yet, you’d heard so many things about the mysterious traveler journeying across Teyvat. This was the same traveler who had stopped storm terror from destroying Mondstadt without killing the creature. He’d also changed the opinion of the electro archon during the vision hunt decree. This traveler had accomplished so many feats. You’d never had the opportunity to talk to someone so unique.

Against your better judgment, you went towards the plants where you directed the mysterious traveler to hide. You spoke in a soft tone so as to not alert the nearby guards and said, “You can come out now.”

The blonde traveler shimmied away from the plants with their floating companion following behind him. He thanked you for your help while his floating companion whispered something in his ear. You heard the word fatui but not much else.

“I assume you should probably be on your way soon but I don’t suppose I could trouble you to stay for some tea before you go.”

His companion started to look nervous as she shook her head, “No, that’s okay. We need to, uh, go do that thing, right, traveler?”

You frowned. Even to a traveler, your relationship with the fatui continues to isolate you. “Oh, I understand. I’d leave through the well in the gardens. It’ll take you unseen through the waterway, in case they’re still after you.”

The traveler’s face grew perplexed, “There’s just one thing I don’t understand. If you’re with the fatui, why’d you help us?”

“I’m not a member of the fatui.”

“Then, why are there fatui agents all over? And I swear I saw that symbol.” He trailed off, his eyes scanning the greenhouse.

It was true there were many fatui agents scattered over the estate. At first, it made you anxious to be surrounded by so many members of the fatui but your fiance insisted. Harbingers had many enemies and he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if something happened to you when he could prevent it. They didn’t ever bother you though. In fact, you’d been visited by the other harbingers more than the nearby fatui agents spoke to you.

Near doors and large windows, the Fatui and Regrator’s symbols were hung on the walls throughout the estate. It was to warn anyone who broke in they were in the domain of a harbinger and they would not be treated with mercy. It also served to remind you that you’d be protected every time he journeyed to Liyue for a business trip. In the foyer, the Regrator’s symbol decorated the wall in the form of a large emblem, next to two royal blue banners with the symbol of the fatui. You must admit it did move you how much he desired to protect you, but it was a bit off putting to guests.

“Yes,” You swallowed, “that would be because of my fiance. He, um, is a harbinger.”

“A Harbinger!” His traveling companion shouted, with eyes blown wide.

“And you still helped us?”

“It looked like you needed help. Though, I must confess I was curious to find out about the traveler the many tales nations have stories about. Snezhnaya rarely gets such interesting visitors.”

The traveler was silent for a moment as he pondered staying or heading out. With a smile, he looked back up at you and said, “Okay, we’ll stay-”

“What?!?” His companion shouted but he ignored her.

“As long as we’re gone before your fiance comes home, it should be okay.” 

You nodded at his statement and gestured for them to take a seat while you asked one of the servants to bring you some more tea and snacks. You learned the mysterious traveler was named Aether and their pouting companion was Paimon. In the many tales, the locals gossiped about you’d never heard their names but they sure did act like the stories suggested. Paimon floated with a pout until the food was set on the table, a few dishes from each nation. In no time at all, she dug into the snacks while you continued to speak with Aether.

He told you he was looking for information about his sister as he journeyed across the nations, foiling the plans of an organization with nefarious goals. It didn’t take a genius to know he was referring to the Fatui. 

Your fiance didn’t share much about the organization he worked for. You knew he was involved in many business ventures and he liked to share his theories with you but he didn’t get into the specifics. On many occasions, people seemed unnerved around. However, he’d only ever been sweet to you. Despite your protests, he bathed you in his riches, gifting you anything from small trinkets to establishments you enjoyed. And though he was a harbinger in charge of the nation's wealth, he always made time to kiss you each morning and night, asking about your day. The only times you’d ever seen him drop that pleasant smile of his was when Il Dottore visited the estate. You didn’t have to ask to know he didn’t want you involved in his harbinger activities.

“I’m sorry,” You replied, with a frown, “I haven’t heard anything about a blonde girl wearing strange clothing. I’ve only heard gossip about you.”

Aether rubbed the back of his neck and set down the empty tea cup, with a small smile, “That’s okay.”

Your gaze moved to a clock that hung in the greenhouse to see a few hours had passed. Though your fiance typically worked later, his subordinates would likely tell him the traveler had been near the estate. He’d be back soon.

You bowed your head to the traveler, standing, “Thank you for your company, Aether. I hope the archons put me in your path again someday. It’s time I keep my promise. Come,” You gestured to the door leading to the gardens. 

You grabbed two winter coats, putting on the more expensive one, and headed outside to the well. You’d briefly looked around to check for guard, relieved to see none close by. The traveler and his companion stood there, looking up at you wondering how they should get down there. “Climb the rope to get down there but be careful. The water’s probably all frozen.”

“Thanks.” Aether grabbed hold of the rope. He stepped on top of the stone, ready to begin when you stopped him with a light hand on his arm.

“Wait, take this cloak. It’s awfully cold on account of the snowstorm. Plus, it might help you blend in.”

The traveler paused, moved by your generosity, “Are you sure? What if your husband finds it missing?”

“He buys so many I doubt he’ll notice.” You chuckled, “It would also make me feel better knowing you have something to keep you warm. I probably shouldn’t say this since my fiance is technically after you but I hope you find your sister. Good luck, Aether.”

It was his turn to let out a chuckle as he began climbing down the well. You bent over the well to watch him climb down and walk deeper into the water well. Once he was gone, you shivered from the sheer cold of one of the many months long snowstorms this country unfortunately had. 

You entered the manor through the double doors and shrugged off the coat, handing it to one of the servants. Walking past the dining room, you noticed two plates had been set on the table. If your fiance wasn’t already back, he apparently would be for dinner. Before sitting down, you went to the bathroom to freshen up, drying your hair from the melted snow. Seeing no food set at the table, you elected to warm up by the fire. 

Slowly, your body started to warm up, especially when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle. He was wearing that perfume again, your favorite. Cedarwood, Cypress, and Nutmeg with an undertone of Patchouli. A smile broke out across your face as he left a kiss on your cheek, trailing his lips down your neck as his hands intertwined with yours continuing to linger across your torso. Tilting your head to rest on his left shoulder, you let out a content sigh, mumbling, “You’re feeling uncharacteristically affectionate today.”

“If you feel that way, I must be neglecting you.” He whispered, his timbre deepening. His lips were by your ear as he spoke, “I’m told a stranger invaded our estate but my agents were unable to catch the trespasser. Are you alright, darling?”

You twisted in his arms to face him. He moved a hand to caress your cheek and you could feel his warm breath fan your face. You nodded and connected your lips with his to reassure him. It started out with you leading a slow, comforting kiss but he quickly took over in a passionate, fast movement. Before you knew it, he’d guided you backwards until your back was against the stone of the fireplace. Without breaking the wet, warm, embrace of your lips, he’d lifted your legs to wrap around him. When the two of you had broken for a breath, your gaze went to his eyes to see the worry drowning in them. 

The traveler didn’t seem to be that dangerous. Aether had actually been pleasant company, telling you many stories but also not pressing you on your relationship with one of the harbingers. He was different compared to other people you knew around here. Every friend you’d tried to make was either scared of him or wanted to get on his good side to secure finance. They didn’t care about you. The traveler cared more about exchanging stories. Why was your fiance so worried?

“Who is this stranger?”

He didn’t answer at first, moving his head to linger at the crook of your neck. “Promise me you won’t meet them again.”

It was foolish to assume he wouldn’t find out but he didn’t sound angry with you for spending time with the traveler. However, it also didn’t sound like a question. He was pleading with you and that made you tense.

“I don’t-”

“I try not to ask for much. I know you feel lonely here but forming a friendship with the traveler is dangerous.” I’m He moved his head away from your neck and brought your hand to his lips. “Promise Me.”

“I,” You paused. He was right about rarely asking you for things but why did it have to be this. It was the first time you’d felt alive in weeks. You wanted to see the traveler again. You also couldn’t make a promise you intended to break, he didn’t deserve that. “I promise.”

#pantalone x reader #genshin impact #fluff #regrator x reader #fatui x reader #idk what i'm doing lol #there's so little about him a snezhnaya #but i wanted to write something cute and fun

[juniperwoodwell]

Dedication

Ch. 1|Ch. 2| Ch. 3 |

Kylo Ren x F! Reader

word count:4k

Warning(s):Cursing, use of Y/n.

Summary:As a Captain in the First Order, Y/N has never been one to bring attention to herself unless it was commanding her squadron. What happens when a personal hobby make's her prey to one of the most feared men in the universe?

A/N:I have a taglist now of lmk if you'd like to be added,you can message me or comment down below. Also lmk if you like this '•••••••' divider or if I should just keep it normal.

The loud blaring sound of her alarm clock startled Y/n awake; She sat up in her bed, a groan leaving her lips as she shut off the alarm. "Okay. It's just an hour; You'll be fine," she tried to encourage herself as she got dressed and ready for work. First, she had a small class with the squadron she was teaching, not to be mistaken for her special forces squadron. Usually, she'd go to the cafeteria for breakfast, but she wanted to avoid as much social interaction for as long as possible. So she grabbed a protein bar from the lounge before leaving for the class.

•••••••

When she arrived, Phasma was there, which was strange since she usually stuck to her troopers.

"Um...Captain. How may I help you?" Y/n made herself as professional as possible

"Kylo Ren has tasked me to teach your class and asks that you go to the hangar immediately."

Oh, you have to be kidding me. I do not have time for this. Y/n nodded and left the room, making her way to the hangar; when she arrived, the two engineers she met yesterday came up to her; frightened. That's when the smell of chard, burning metal reached her nose.

"Shit-" She cursed under her breath. "What happened?" She asked.

The tall blonde pointed to one of the terminals; it was a mangled mess of wire and metal. But what she focused on was Kylo Ren's fiery red lightsaber. Clearing her throat, she swallowed her fear and approached him.

"Sir?" Her voice was cautious; she stayed a few feet from him. The sound of his heavy breathing crackled through the voice modulator. His saber switched off, and he turned to her.

"You're late."

"You changed my schedule"

"You should have been advised last night."

"Well. I wasn't, so I apologize if my unknowingly tardiness has messed with your schedule." She sassed

"If I were you, I'd be very careful with how you address me, Capitan." His voice was low, and anger seemed to seep from his figure. Y/n straightened up. What is wrong with me? I know it's early, but am I losing my mind? Clearing her throat, she nodded.

"Yes, Sir. I apologize." She spoke curtly.

He put his saber back on his hip and then spoke, "You have thirty minutes today, so I suggest you start now."

"B-But, Sir. That's not what the-"

"This assignment goes exactly how I say it does. So either you do as you're told or face the consciences."

That threat brought back all the anxiety from the day before. Any bit of her normal self was washed away and replaced by this foreigner called fear.

 "Yes, Sir. Right away." She spoke quickly and climbed into the TIE Silencers cockpit.

When she sat in the seat, she realized her feet didn't quite reach the pedals. "Oh. Right. He's a lot bigger than I am. Gotta remember that." She mumbled to herself; when she looked out the windshield, She froze.

He was standing there...Watching her. She expected it to be like a scare tactic, and he'd be off to the side somewhere doing who knows what. "Not creepy at all, Sir," She said under her breath; since the entrance hatch was still open, she didn't know how much he could hear. Unaware of his special abilities.

Once she settled her nerves, she leaned forward in her seat to reach the ship's flight computer; she then took out her datapad from the left side pocket of her uniform and connected it to the flight computer. She was surprised to see that the algorithm was set up almost identically to hers, but of course, the big complicated stuff was different. No...of course, it wouldn't be that easy, but it did make it easier on her.

"Okay, first things first. Gotta prioritize the main components," She spoke to herself as she scrolled through the computer's terminal; she groaned at all the numbers and red lettering. This is going to take forever. Then an idea popped into her head. Well...he never said I couldn't make a copy and then study it later.

Without a second thought, she quickly downloaded a copy of the computer's schematics onto her datapad; she had five minutes left when the download finished;

looking up from the computer, she saw him there, still staring at her.

Judging her every move.

Watching her from under that terrifying mask.

She looked at her watch before she unplugged the tablet, putting it back in its original place before she climbed out of the cockpit.

•••••••

"I'm done, sir," she spoke formally as she approached him. Keeping enough distance. He nodded a silent dismissal.

As she walked passed him, he grabbed her forearm, stopping her in her tracks.

He leaned in close to her ear.

"If I didn't know any better, captain, I would assume you just stole important information from the first order." His voice distorted and low as he spoke.

Y/n swallowed harshly. "Sir. You never said I couldn't study the flight computer information after hours. I don't want to mess anything up,"

 Kylo hummed and let go of her arm. "Use that information wisely." he began to walk towards his ship but stopped when Y/n spoke up,

"Why did you change my schedule?" She asked abruptly.

"I have a meeting to attend to off base. You'll go back to your assigned schedule tomorrow," he spoke honestly; the modulator did little to hide the sincerity

"Oh. Uh. well, then, good luck, sir." She turned and left the hangar.

•••••••

"I'm sorry, he did what?" Miya asked as Y/n sat down at their lunch table.

"He changed my schedule and then got pissed off because I was late. Apparently, I got a message in the middle of the night from an informant, but I didn't see it until after I arrived to see the aftermath his temper tantrum." Y/n sighed as she ate.

The three stared at her.

"You can still back out now, right?" Cal asked, but before she could respond, Killian answered for her,

"No. She has a target over her head now. If she tried to back out, she'd not only disappoint her father, but she'd most likely get fired, or worse, Kylo Ren would have a fit and kill her."

Everyone's attention was now on killian; Y/n stared at him in fear. She hadn't even thought about the possibility of disappointing her dad. and Killian was right; if she slipped up, she'd be killed.

Y/n put her head on the table, and Miya placed her hand on her back.

"Lesson learned if you have a hobby that could potentially get you stuck in a situation between life and death. Just let it go. It's not worth it." Y/n mumbled before sitting, "I'm gonna head back to the lounge and do some work. I gotta study this dang ship without the actual ship." she groaned as she stood up.

"But you barely ate anything," Cal spoke, standing up as well.

"I'll eat more at dinner. I promise." She lied with a gentle smile; she wasn't planning on going to dinner. She'd eat a few protein bars and be all set.

This assignment was too important, not only for herself but for her father and his company.

•••••••

While she was retreating to the lounge, she ran into Phasma.

"Hello, Capitan," Y/n gave her a slight nod and a smile.

"You're alive." She spoke plainly;

Y/n nodded, laughing dryly, "Just barely. I know it was an order, but thank you anyway for teaching my class."

Phasma nodded, "Of course."

Their conversation ended as they parted ways.

•••••••

"Y/n."

The low voice of Major Elrik startled Y/n when she entered the lounge.

"Y-Yes, Sir,"

"My office, Now."

Oh shit. She nodded and followed him into his office.

"You are beginning to make me worried. I got word that you were late to your new assignment, which in turn caused Kylo Ren to have a tantrum, destroying one of the terminals."

"T-That wasn't my fault, Sir."

 "Oh?"

"Kylo Ren changed my schedule in the middle of the night, and I didn't see the message until it was too late." Her voice started confident but slowly deflated, and so did her demeanor.

Elrik sighed.

"The first order enjoys leaving out any information that could hurt their reputation." Elrik sat down at his desk and motioned for her to sit. "Kylo Ren has gone to the supremacy to meet with Supreme Leader Snoke, and he wanted me to inform you that he will not be back until late after your scheduled time when he returns; you will do your one hour then." Y/n nodded,

"Are you doing alright?" he asked; Y/n looked up from her lap.

"Yes, Sir. I'm doing just fine." She gave him a half-hearted smile.

"I know this assignment is a lot more than you signed up for, and I also know how you can get when you're overwhelmed. It's not a secret that Kylo Ren causes you to become anxious. If I knew he would do this, I would have said something. But I believe that you can complete this assignment without fail."

"At least someone does." she sighed,

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I-...I just think he and everyone else believes I'll fail. The man is sadistic; I think he got bored and is now using me as a play toy." she joked dryly

"You think far too much, Y/n."

"I know, Sir. May I be dismissed? I have a lot to study" The major nodded, and Y/n stood up from her seat, Heading to her room.

•••••••

She sat down at her small desk and opened up her datapad; as she looked over the first page, she unbuttoned her work shirt, leaving her in a black short-sleeved undershirt and her work pants, rolling her shoulders; She began to focus intently on the plans and coding in front of her, taking notes on her personal tablet.

•••••••

Four hours of studying passed by when a knock on the door interrupted her,

"Yes? Come in," She spoke, pulling away from the desk to stretch; Cal poked his head into the room.

"Hey. How's it going?"

Y/n groaned.

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded and stood up from her chair,

"It's just a lot of words and numbers that I haven't studied in a few years; It's a good refresher, though."

Cal nodded and sat down on the edge of Y/n's bed

"You know it's almost time for dinner, right? You promised to eat."

Y/n sighed. "I know, Cal. But this is too important, and I have a full day tomorrow, with three flight training, a meeting with Hux, then another meeting with some higher-ups about flight strategies. I have to study this as much as I can. Missing a few meals isn't going to hurt." She sat back down in her seat, turning her tablet back on.

"Don't neglect your needs because some asshole decided you need to prove yourself to him." Cal stood up, frustration lingering in his voice.

"Cal." She warned,

"Don't. 'Cal' me, Y/n Seinar. You are amazing a what you do; everyone knows that. Your name is important to so many people, and the resistance shivers when they hear your call sign. This prick is toying with you, and you shouldn't stand for it. He's bringing you down to nothing. You are usually so strong and glowing with confidence, and he's made you anxious and scared. He has no right to do that-"

"Callisto. Shut up." Y/n forcefully stood from her seat; her face was red with anger and annoyance. Not because of Cal but because she knew he was right.

"Get out."

"Y-Y/n, I-I"

"Out. Now."

Callisto sighed and left the room.

When the door closed, a quiet whimper left her lips

Why is this happening? I know it's his ship, but couldn't he have just left me alone for the week? He knows my reputation and all that I've done for the first order. What was his plan here? To knock me down a peg? No. This was a challenge. A game. Well...I suppose two can play. She sat on her bed and thought for a while.

If Kylo wasn't going to return late into the night, that meant she'd have plenty of time to take notes and possibly make copies of the information she already had. Sure, in the academy, this would count as cheating, but we're no longer there now, are we?

Nodding to herself, she stood up from the bed and fixed her shirt, then walked out to the lounge.

"Dinner, anyone?" She asked; Miya, Killian, and Callisto turned their heads to her.

Capitan Y/n Seinar was back. For now, at least.

She had nothing to fear as long as he was gone, right?

•••••••

"Geez, does this stuff ever get better?" She asked rhetorically as she ate, Cal chuckled,

Miya shook her head. "Why would it? The first Order spends their money on more equipment and ships than on any decent food."

"Wonder if the higher-ranking officers get better food than this?"

"Wouldn't that mean Y/n would be getting better food?" Kil asks, responding to Cal's question.

Y/n put her head down as the three looked at her, pretending to be occupied with her mush.

"Y/n?" Miya nudges her side; Y/n groaned and looked up at them

 "...Yes. Cal's right. Starting at Capitan, the food gets served to your quarters or to the higher ups mess hall. It's of better quality than anything served here."

"Then why aren't you eating that food?" Miya asked,

"Because...I asked them not to send me any." She says plainly.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to eat alone, Alright?" The table erupted in laughter, no one caring if they disturbed anyone.

"Aww, that is so sweet!" Cal teased, and Y/n shot him a glare; he put his hands up in defense and chuckled.

"I just knew you guys would be completely lost without me here. That's the real reason," she tried to play it off.

"Mhm, Sure it is," Miya poked y/n's side playfully.

Then slowly, the group grew silent as they all ate, small conversations here and there but none of any importance.

•••••••

As Y/n was walking out of the cafeteria, Killian gently grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the side

"Killian- What're you"

"Shush. Just listen. I didn't want to say this with the others around, but you need to hear it. Kylo Ren is on the supremacy right now. He didn't take his silencer." Y/n's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Then why-"

"I'm not sure, but if you want to study it physically, you should go now. I'll spot you in case someone were to notice. I know the engineers will be ending their shifts soon. Don't you have to meet with the Chief, Kesta?"

"Yeah, I can do that now, actually, and by the time I'm finished, the engineers would be changing shifts. We can meet up at the lounge and go from there." Killian nodded,

"Alright, send me a message when you're on your way."

"Okay. Oh, and thank you, Killian. This will be very helpful."

"I know," he chuckled, "I prefer you getting in slight trouble than getting killed."

Miya rushed over to them and grabbed Killian's arm.

"Hey. We had a deal. No more scheming with Y/n. That almost got all four of us fired."

"We're not scheming, Miya. I was just discussing something with her."

"About?"

"What? Are you my wife or something?" Miya looked at him, shocked, and held up her left hand.

"Actually. Yeah, I will be." The thin ring glittered in the harsh hallway light. Miya and Kilian had gotten engaged years before they joined the first order.

They made a promise that once the resistance was defeated, they'd leave and get married, buy a house on some distant planet and live happily ever after. Or at least that's how Miya said it one night when they all had a few too many drinks.

Y/n snorted out a laugh as she began to walk away.

"Hey, No, get back here, Y/n."

"Nope, Sorry, Kil. You dug that grave, so lay in it."

"Where are you going?" Cal asks as he walked over to the other two.

"Got a meeting. I'll see you guys later" Y/n waved goodbye.

•••••••

"Ah, Capitan. It's nice to see you again." Kesta's motherly voice welcomed y/n into the room. She was glad to see Kylo was nowhere to be seen.

"I hope you're aware that today I only had half an hour to look over the ship, and I got too preoccupied to write out a report. I will write one out tonight and send it to you in the morning."

"That won't be necessary."

"And why not?" Y/n asked with a raised brow.

"Kylo Ren already sent in a report before he left." Y/n's eyes grew wide.

 Did he realize I didn't do a report? Why would he write out a report for something he didn't do? Did he write out that I practically stole a copy of the computer's hard drive information?

That last thought chilled her to the bone; if anyone found out about that, she'd certainly get suspended. She swallowed harshly.

Even if he was away, he still managed to make her anxious. Prick.

"Just give me a quick review of everything you went over today then you may go."

The conversation lasted maybe fifteen minutes.

•••••••

Y/n sent Killian a message that she was done, walking down the hallway. Killian was standing outside the door to the lounge.

"You ready to go?" He asked as she walked up to him; she nodded calmly but practically jumped out of her skin when Miya showed up behind Killian.

"Go where?" She asked, her arms crossed over her full chest. Killian groaned and turned around.

"It's none of your business Mai. I just need Y/n to do a favor for me." That wasn't too far from the truth, although he was technically doing a favor for her.

"It is definitely my business if my fiancé and best friend are going off somewhere together, alone."

"I didn't think you were the jealous type. Miya. But I assure you it's not what you think." Y/n teased as she tried to reason, but Miya put her hand up.

"It's exactly what I think it is. You two are going to Kylo Ren's ship so Y/n can study it after hours"

"How'd you-"

"Because Cal and I were thinking the same thing. We went by the Hangar earlier today and saw his ship was still there even though he already left." Miya sighed. "It's suspicious, Y/n. What if he's expecting you to go there? I mean, they were very adamant that you only have access to it for an hour and that you are under no circumstance allowed to board that ship without permission or outside the designated timeframe." Y/n sighed, knowing Miya was right.

But this was a special circumstance.

"Miya. I have to. I need as much experience with that thing as much as possible; I don't have time for rules. Kylo will literally kill me if I don't get this thing right. The least Hux or anyone else can do is fire me. I prefer my life over my job, even if I love it." Miya sighed and opened the door to the lounge, calling out to Cal.

He looked at everyone and rolled his eyes.

"We're doing something stupid again, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

 "Yep."

"Pretty much."

 He pursed his lips and sighed. "Alright. Let's go."

•••••••

"Okay. This is a really dumb idea. Do you seriously need this overtime?" Cal asked.

"Oh, don't be a wimp. Come on." Y/n sassed as they entered the hangar. She made a beeline for the Silencer. "You guys, keep an eye out. I'll try to be only an hour." They all nodded and then watched as she climbed into the cockpit.

She was surprised to see that she was still allowed access to the flight computer.

Maybe he just didn't feel like changing it.

"Ok. Flight controls...Programmed the same way as mine. Easy to remember. Targeting...not so easy, so let's start there."

•••••••

The hour flew by quickly; Y/n looked out the transparasteel windshield to see her friends talking quietly, not too far from the ship. To anyone, it just looked like pilots talking about work-related stuff.

Her mind drifted to her conversation earlier with Kylo

"If I didn't know any better, captain, I would assume you just stole important information from the first order."

"Sir. You never said I couldn't study the flight computer information after hours. I don't want to mess anything up"

"Use that information wisely."

"Why did you change my schedule?"

"I have a meeting to attend to off base. You'll go back to your assigned schedule tomorrow."

"Oh. Uh. Well then, good luck, sir."

She groaned; rolling her eyes. Gook luck? Seriously? And what was up with that whole 'If I didn't know better' shit?

She sighed; the words "Use that information wisely" echoed in her mind as she climbed out of the cockpit.

•••••••

"Alright, I'm done; I made a good handful of notes for the difficult stuff. Of course, I'll need to spend more time tomorrow. But I have enough to get the majority of it studied tonight." Y/n spoke as she walked up to the group. They all nodded and then headed back to the lounge with no complications. Thank the Maker.

•••••••

Y/n collapsed onto the couch; exhaustedly, she sighed, "Thank you, guys."

"Of course."

"What're friends for."

"Trespassing, apparently," Everyone laughed quietly, not wanting to disturb any of their other squad mates.

Y/n closed her eyes as she leaned back on the couch; a few minutes of sleep won't hurt...right?

•••••••

Yes. Yes, it does hurt.

Her alarm rudely blared; she was in her bed. When did she get there? Did someone move her here? "Shit!" she cursed as she jumped out of bed, smacking her alarm off, still in her clothes from yesterday.

 "Why the hell did you guys let me sleep?" She asked, storming into the lounge.

"We tried waking you up, but you were dead asleep. Cal moved you to your room. You needed it anyways." Killian said from the couch.

"No. I needed to study my notes. Now I barely have any time to do anything off schedule."

"Speaking of schedule. Don't you have flight training in about twenty minutes?" He asked. Y/n looked at the clock and cursed again.

"Yeah, Thanks for reminding me." She turned around and walked back into her room, quickly changing into her fight suit. The armor would be unnecessary today since she was just showing basic maneuvers.

•••••••

The cold air slammed against her skin as she walked out onto the tarmac where her squadron was positioned for the day. "Now, listen up. We have a lot of work to do today. I don't want any distractions, and I want you all focused on the tasks at hand. We'll be learning basic maneuvers with the TIE/fo space superiority fighter, just known as the First Order Tie Fighter. You already know how to fly, but you don't know your offense and defense yet, and that's what I plan on teaching you today."

Her squadron was small, but with her teaching, they'd most likely become some of the best TIE fighters in their generation. Most of these fighters couldn't have been more than fourteen or sixteen. Y/n cared for them like family even if she wasn't supposed to, Y/n was kind, and she wasn't afraid to show it. Especially to children.

 "Captian." A boy with platinum blonde hair with almond eyes walked up to Y/n. This was Dante. He was recruited into the first order and was also the oldest in the group, eighteen. Y/n hummed as she looked over her datapad,

"Ma'am, General Hux wanted me to inform you that your meeting with him is canceled."

"Really?" she asked while scrolling through her tablet; there it was, a notification that the meeting was canceled.

"Well, Good...I have some free time today." She mumbled to herself

"Ma'am?" Dante asked; Y/n shook her head and offered him a smile.

"Why aren't you in your flight suit?"

"I'm getting it resized. I had a growth spurt recently." Ooh. I knew something was different,

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were busy with your new assignment, and I don't have a datapad as you do." Y/n nodded

"Well, you know you won't be able to fly this class without it, right?" Dante nodded,

"Yes, Ma'am. I know. And I am fully aware of the consequences."

 "Consequences? Dante, I've never once punished you or anyone else in this squadron. What consequences?" Y/n was so surprised that she had to take a step back.

She didn't believe in the First Order's scare tactics; She believed that the best way to make good soldiers is to befriend them and give them a reason for fighting. Hux hated that, and Y/n knew it; that's one of the reasons she did it. Just to piss him off.

"You really don't pay attention to your notifications, do you ma'am?" He asked, and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Well. Dante. I've been a bit busy these last three days, you little punk."

"What is making you so busy that you can't even focus on your normal tasks" Kylo Ren. That's what.

"My new assignment has been a lot more difficult than I said it would be"

"Oh. I heard that you were working on Kylo Ren's TIE Silencer"

"Your brother needs to learn to keep his mouth shut."

 "So it's true then?"

"Dante, you know I can't discuss this stuff with you." The boy sighed.

"Then why can Killi tell me all this stuff?"

"Because Killian is your brother. I am your squad leader. You see the difference, don't you?" Dante nodded

"Yes, Ma'am"

Now about those consequences, going through her notifications, she saw another addressed from Hux.

 "What the fuck?" The message was an order for Y/n to start using proper First Order disciplinary actions. "Oh, that coward. He canceled the meeting because he knew that this would piss me off." Y/n looked at Dante, "You will not be punished, Dante."

This will not stand. I was given this squadron to test a new way of making loyal soldiers; he has no right to do this.

•••••••

After the training, Y/n went to where Phasma taught her squadron

"Capitan Seinar. What a pleasure it is to see you," Phasma spat sarcastically, not very fond of having her training interrupted.

"Did you know of Hux's decision to have me enforce proper disciplinary actions with my squadron?"

 "No, I wasn't aware. But I have told you to enforce some discipline" Y/n rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest

"So you're saying it's my fault?"

 "Of course it is. You thought you could get away with just being nice. This is the first order Y/n. Kindness doesn't exist here."

"I know. You're right, but we both know Hux's way is insufficient. My way is working; they have loyalty stronger than any other squadron on this base.

"Why don't you go talk to Hux then?" Y/n looked at Phasma as though she'd grown a second head

"Are you crazy?"

"I mean, the only way for this to be solved is by confronting him on the matter; I mean, you were given that opportunity by the supreme leader. Unless the enforcement is ordered by the supreme leader, then Hux has no power over how you teach and lead your squadron."

she's got a point, but confrontation isn't my strong suit.

"Yeah...I think about it. Thank you, sorry to disturb your training."

With those parting words, she left the area, and confidently walked to the command center but stopped in Infront of the door.

Hux didn't intimidate her as Kylo did, but he was still a high-ranking officer, so she had to play her cards right.

"...Nope." Sighing, she turned around and walked back the way she came. Coward. "Shit. I wasted that hour..." She mumbled to herself.

•••••••

The rest of the day went by with barely any complications; Y/n missed lunch and was on the way to the cafeteria for dinner when a trooper called out to her

"Capitan Seinar, Kylo Ren has returned and requests you meet him in the hangar." She looked at the trooper and sighed

"Now?" she asked; the trooper nodded

"Alright. Thank you," she grumbled as she turned away from her earlier destination, Great. Now I've got to deal with him.

•••••••

"Sir. I apologize if I'm late."

She addressed the looming figure as he stood in Infront of his ship, his back to her.

"You're right on time."

Tag list:

@kylowritten

@capitanostella

#writing #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x f! reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #ben solo #star wars fanfiction #star wars

[cutephlegm]

Something red

II - Vanilla and rosemary

Pairing: Gortash x reader

CW: Slight NSFW

Read on Ao3

Summary: You accompany Gortash to the banquet, and in heat of the moment- combined with your consumption of alcohol that evening you admit to the lord more than intend.

You’d tossed and turned that night, restless, desperately trying to get a wink of sleep, but your mind was unforgivingly relentless. You ceaselessly replayed the events that had occurred a few hours before, the sweet words that had spilled out of Enver Gortash’s devious smile. You couldn’t help it- after all what he’d propositioned was certainly unexpected. Though you would be lying if you said the prospect didn’t excite you… at least a little bit. You, a humble middle-class citizen would be dining with lords and ladies in the next 24 hours. That was something you didn’t expect when you had applied for a position as a secretary. Eventually you managed to fall into a blissful slumber. You had an important day ahead of you.

At noon you had already picked out your attire, having it professionally fitted… and gods was it expensive. You considered it an investment as you assumed you would likely receive compensation for the banquet, at least you hoped you would. You completed your daily tasks, going through letters and missives as you usually did until you felt a particularly heavy letter in your hands. That was strange… objects weren’t meant to pass through security for safety reasons. This one must’ve slipped through the cracks. You narrowed your eyes, reading whom it was addressed from. Lord Enver Gortash.

You took a double take before you realised it was addressed to you…? You peeled the letter open and peering inside you noticed the object, accompanied by a note. Your heart rate has for some reason sped up… were you nervous? Eventually you mustered up the courage to empty the letter, reading the note first. It was a short simple sentence; a command; ‘Wear this’.

In your admittedly shaky hands, you held the object which accompanied the note, a piece of jewellery. It was a necklace, you traced along the smooth silver down to the centrepiece; a ruby. Opulent as ever, it must’ve been worth a fortune… You tried not to let your mind wonder on why Gortash had gone out of his way to gift you with such a thing… or why he’d even asked such a thing of you in the first place. Before this point he had only spoken to you a handful of times, and these weren’t exactly notable encounters.

You hooked the necklace on admiring it slink down nicely framing your collarbones. This was time. You’d slipped into the dress you’d bought earlier on. When the lord said he’d wanted something red you weren’t too sure what to go for. Did he mean a vibrant red? A burgundy? You settled with blood red, the colour of the wine he often indulged in. You looked at yourself in a small mirror one last time before setting off to the location Gortash had provided.

You couldn’t remember much as you arrived, everything was sort of a flash of colour and noise. Surrounding you, were many luxuries; meat, wine, exotic fruits, some you’d never even seen before… you looked around the room you stood in the centre of, almost frantically picking through the many guests for that familiar face. “Ah, Y/N! What a pleasure for you to finally join us.” You turned around, your eyes meeting the source of that voice. Gortash.

You cleared your throat. “My apologies for keeping you waiting… I didn’t realise that the banquet had already began.” He grinned, moving closer in your direction. “Oh, by all means, no worries… What monster would I be to reprimand my betrothed for such a simple miscommunication, hm?” He jested flashing a sharp smile at you. You were facing each other now, and the closer you were the more vividly you could examine his features. Dark tired eyes… the same ones you’d seen during your last encounter, did this man never sleep?

Suddenly, he offered you his hand, and as you looked up at him you noticed he looked somewhat regal from this angle. You took his hand, and he grinned at you in response, a dangerous grin. The lord leaned in closer, so only you could hear him; “Follow my lead.” He instructed as he led you over to a crowd of well-dressed men and women. As he guided you, your bodies closer than they had ever been before, you could smell him- vanilla and rosewood with the hint of something deeper almost like well-aged brandy.

Arriving at the crowd, before he began his myriad of introductions, you noticed His eyes drop down to the necklace, he had gifted you before he cleared his throat and focused ahead of himself. You stood there, beside the lord and you as he entertained his guests. You tried to look focused however your mind was utterly somewhere else. Engrossed in the thoughts of how warm Gortash’s hands had felt against yours… how his eyes would flicker towards your general direction every now and again, almost making sure you were alright… Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was some hidden desire but you could tell that already you felt much differently about the lord.

A few hours into the banquet, Gortash had told you to occupy yourself as in he would be busy dealing with some affaires relating to business. He told you to look busy and that he would find you before the banquet was over. So, you did as you were told.

You made your round, frequented tables filled with beverages and perhaps helping yourself to some of the wines available. As the alcohol started to take effect, you found yourself talking to the lords and ladies alike. Some treated you with less grace than others, however once you’d introduced yourself as Lord Gortash’s personal guest, any lingering disrespect ceased to exist. You could feel the power it gave you going to head.

Later into the banquet you leaned against one of the many pillars scattered across the open room. You hadn’t an idea of what time it was but it was certainly past midnight. Your eyelids felt heavy and you focused on trying to stay awake, taking a sip of the red every couple seconds. “Is that my dear secretary?” You heard, coming from a familiar, stern voice. However, in this occasion it was light, friendly almost.

Stood before you for none other than Enver Gortash, his charming smile jolting you awake. “Oh! Gortash…” You regained your composure. He gestured to the glass, which was intertwined in two pale fingers. “Having fun?” His tone was mocking, accompanied by that same sadistic grin he usually sported. Yet there was something different in his eyes this time, and it certainly wasn’t the alcohol playing tricks on you this time. Desire. His dark gaze wandered across you, prying into your face, your neck, down to your exposed chest…

“Somewhat,” You responded, clearing your throat and glancing away, trying to prevent your face from reddening with all your mite. He let out a cruel laugh at your answer, and his brows proceeded to knot. “Ah, but there’s no use lying to me, you silly girl. I’ve seen you lingering around the tables, your eyes raking over the beverages like a starved peasant.” He spat. “If you aren’t enjoying yourself… well the banquet is nearly over so you’re very much welcome to leave.” His tone was friendly, however was a slight quiver in it. His smile faltering a little, masking something that he didn’t want you to see. He wasn’t letting something on.

You rolled your eyes and spoke in mock sadness “Oh? You’re so keen to get rid me of me?” You teased, narrowing your eyes. Control over your demeanour slipped from your fingertips… this type of comportment would usually risk you being fired yet the lord looked at you with humour, letting slip a scoff. “Of course not, I never get rid of my dear… partner. After all you’ve been more than sufficient.” He admitted. “I can’t put any blame onto you for your lacking enthusiasm. This banquet has been rather drab, even for me.” You could hear the disappointment in his tone, the lord letting out a deep sigh. You offered him your glass, earning you another scoff before he snatched the glass from you. He took a sip from it, his eyes still boring into you all the same. “How courteous.” He praised, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “It’s only natural,” You grinned. Perhaps this Gortash wasn’t as bad as you thought after all…

“How did your ‘business’ go?” You asked, an attempt at making idle conversation with the lord. After the night you’d had, it had only made you more curious about Gortash, he was always a mysterious figure, yet his recent actions had become increasingly undecipherable. You were curious. “I won’t bore you with the details- it’s a rather tiering ordeal- just know that the outcome of it has made me a content man.” He gleamed.

“And that man himself gives you his compliments…” He smirked. “You certainly shattered any expectations I had with such an attire, truly…” His eyes glancing back down to the dress you wore. “I wasn’t sure it was the right shade…” You tucked away a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

Time passed between you and the lord. You were both caught in conversation, sharing sweet mundane words, watching on as the guests spilled out from the hall. Occasionally Gortash would hook his arm around yours, waving at them, that sly grin spread across that handsome face… “I must say, you’ve surprised me, you haven’t been as dull as I thought you’d be.” He watched on as barrage of servants cleaned the hall, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. It was clear he was getting ready to leave…

You hesitated for a brief moment; you were in disbelief at the words which you were about to let spill from your lips. “Perhaps this could become… more than a one-time thing…” You pondered out loud, your index rubbing against your lip in thought. Gortash’s eyes split from yours as he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “What are you implying?” He inquired. “In the eyes of the public, I would be willing to become… well yours.” By this point you were beyond the realms of shame or fear. Your only goal was to satiate that ever-growing curiosity you possessed for Lord Enver Gortash.

The wine had clouded your judgment, you could feel the heat radiating from your face, surely a blushing mess at this point. You would undeniably come to regret this moment.

“Hah! Well…” He began, not quite knowing what he intended to say in the first place. He gathered himself almost instantaneously, focusing his attention firmly back onto you. “While I do admire your directness…I’m not sure you would be able to handle it, in truth.” He paused, seemingly lost in thought. “Being tied to such a prolific political figure, such as myself, would certainly prove to be demanding.” You were so close to him, that could feel the heat radiate from his skin… his steady, unbreakable gaze suddenly not so unbreakable, as his eyes flickered between you and the ceiling, he was thinking…

“I don’t deny that you’re a… formidable woman.” Such words took you out of your trance. “Perhaps I will consider it. You’d still have to prove yourself to me, my dear secretary.” His voice dripped with something darker than it usually did causing a warmth to emanate from between your thighs…

“What must I do to prove myself then?” You retorted.

“Join me in my office at noon tomorrow, and we will further discuss this.”

#gortash x reader #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #bg3 gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #enver gortash

[inspirationalucky]

🦈 EPIC: The Musical: Act One, The Storm Saga sentence starters. Going by the exact lyrics except for a few lines here and there, but definitely go ahead and change things to fit your muse's situation<3

Storm

"Is it nature or divine or a blessing in disguise?"

"This storm's our final fight."

"There's no time to die."

"Brace for a storm, the likes of which we've never seen before."

"With home so close, we must keep pushing forward!"

"Have them follow my ship, I'll ensure that we prevail."

"We're taking too much damage to survive!"

"We'll beat this storm!"

"What do you have in mind?"

"We're gonna shoot for the sky."

Luck Runs Out

"Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do."

"You've heard the legends, this proves they're true!"

"I'm gonna climb to the top and ask 'em for a hand."

"You could be caught off guard and lose your life."

"Don't forget how dangerous the gods are!"

"Have faith, friend, we've come this far!"

"How much longer 'til your luck runs out?"

"You rely on wit, and people die on it."

"I still believe in goodness. I still believe that we could be kind."

"What will we do when it tears us apart?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"I just don't wanna see another life end."

"And suddenly, you doubt that I could figure this out?"

"How much longer 'til your great days cease?"

"How much longer 'til your strength takes leave?"

"I understand that we're tired, I understand that we're fazed, but don't forget how much we've already faced."

"I took 600 men to war and not one of them died there, in case you needed a reminder."

"If you'd like to speak more, let me pull you aside then. I need to talk to you in private."

"I can't have you planting seeds of doubt."

"I need you to always be devout and comply with this or we'll all die in this. Okay?"

Keep Your Friends Close

"Out path to home is blocked by an impenetrable storm."

"Let's play a game!"

"And if you win, you will get what you're yearning."

"All you gotta do is not open this bag."

"Sounds too easy. What's the catch?"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust."

"Sometimes killing is a must."

"'Cause the end always justifies the means."

"Friends turn to foes in rivalries."

"I can't wait to make some new memories."

"Time for me to be the father I never was."

"Why are my eyes and my heart and my soul so heavy?"

"I keep on trying to embrace you both, why won't you let me?"

"So much has changed but I'm the same."

"If I had to guess? You're headed for the Land of the Giants."

"ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA! Do you know who I am?"

Ruthlessness

"In all my years of living it isn't very often that I get pissed off."

"I try to chill with the waves but damn, you've crossed the line."

"I've been so gracious and yet, you hurt this son of mine!"

"I'm left without a choice and without a doubt."

"Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now!"

"I've gotta make you bleed, I need to see you drown."

"But before you go, I need to make you learn how ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves."

"You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great."

"A Greek who reeks of false righteousness, that's what I hate!"

"You fight to save lives, but won't kill and don't get the job done."

"I mean, you totally could've avoided all this had you just killed my son. But no!"

"You are far too nice, mercy has a price!"

"You reveal your name, then you let him live?"

"Unlike you I've got no mercy left to give."

"Today you die. Unless, of course, you apologize."

"We took no pleasure in his pain, we only wanted to escape."

"The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible."

"Close your heart, the world is dark, and ruthlessness is mercy."

"Forty-three left under your command."

"I am your darkest moment, the monster that always draws near."

"Any last words?"

"Remember me."

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #roleplay sentence starters #rp starter #rp starter meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #epic the musical #epic the ocean saga #i've had these SITTING just waiting for today but im going over them first lmao BEAR WITH ME #circe and underworld are next #imma do one that's just 'arc two so far' for funsies

[starkwub]

(Tw. Starkercest and dark subject matters implied)

Turned into a bit of a belly kink thing too--but what of my content doesn't? XD

Apologies if the pacing feelings a bit strange at times—I wrote this before going to bed last night while listening to "memoir #2 - mayroosevelt" on repeat ha (good music, but always makes me think)

I proofread it aloud (changed a few small things) and put it through google docs squiggly line test—but alas some things may not be caught ..

I do hope you enjoy if you wish to read on :)

— — —

Snow fell at Peter's feet as he looked out over the white covered streets and trudged through side-walks.

His heart was heavy and his body felt as if there were shackles tied to it, and is nose ran as he stuffed his hands into the jacket he had taken from the rack--his father’s jacket.

He dared to key the car he saw parked in front of their apartment just because he knew who it belonged to. A woman--the woman that his father had been seeing for the past 6 months.

He'd invited her over, and when Peter had simply had enough of their lovey-dovey attitude, he'd offered to run down the road to get a few things--and he did--sort of.

Peter looked down at the plastic bag straps that were wrapped around his coat covered forarm, and gave the car beside him one last hate-filled glance before heading towards the door and up the stairs to where he knew he'd find the both of them.

He hoped he wouldn't have to walk in on anything..

See his father’s tongue down her throat or see her hand pressed up against his erection--it was all too much for him to bear right now.

Usually he could push past it, but he didn't think he could keep his tears under control this time--or maybe he was a bit worried they wouldn't come. That he would be stuck in a perpetual state of a void in his emotional output.

He kicked the snow off his soaked converse and announced himself clear as day--and was happy to know that he wouldn't be walking in on them making out on the couch or having sex over the counter.

He wondered if his friends also had regular thoughts of their father participating in sexual encounters, or if he was alone in all that.

From what he looked up, most people called them intrusive thoughts..some people blamed it on trauma. Some people just said it was a sin in and of itself and that he--or anyone else for that matter--deserved to be locked up for life.

A sick sick boy you are Peter, he thought as he put the grocery bag on the table.

"Peter?" He heard his father call from the other room--and upon putting away the last of the random items he'd gotten from the store, heard his name be whined out once more.

"Peeter.."

He walked across the kitchen to the living room to see his father staring right back at him with a smile. He had an arm around the woman of the hour, and the other was resting across his large-stuffed gut.

Must be drunk.

"Yeah dad?" He asked, quirking a brow.

The man pat the space beside him and motioned to the screen, "We're just about to put a movie on but we wanted to wait for you--"

We? Or just you?

Tell me--

"--so grab your daddy a beer and get your ass over here."

Peter's gut burned at the word--at the tone--at the simple command.

He nodded nonetheless though and did as he was told--grabbing his father two drinks instead of one because he was a sick minded boy, and flicked the lights off as he headed over.

He was soon stopped mid-motion though when his dad felt the wet of his hair--

"Peter! you're freezing cold--and wet.. god okay." and soon he was maneuvering out of the drunk woman's hold to pull at his shoulder--tugging him up and in the direction of his room.

"Dad what're you doing?--" he hurried out in a hushed tone.

"Getting you into something a bit more comfortable.. you're freezing Pete. Why did you go out there anyways? We had everything we needed."

Peter could hear the hint of confusion, and a bit of hurt if he were to listen really close--but simply shrugged and watched his father fumbling for his light switch.

Sometimes he was jealous of the kids that could hug their fathers without it being weird--and it wasn't like it was weird in a sexual way..it just..

Peter reached out and flicked the light on himself--his fingers brushing against his father’s making his skin suddenly burn (or was that the cold?).

No it was more than that..it always felt like he couldn't quite get close enough--or that he knew if he hugged for too long then maybe his father would push him away.

Maybe it was because when he was a kid he'd hug his teachers and they'd always give him a 5 second rule before pushing him away—leaving him to wonder why there was a limit.

Peter looked down at his hands for a moment, noting the red tint and the way they were stiff when he flexed his joints--but was suddenly surprised to see a t-shirt, boxers--as well as a pair of sweatpants entering his line of sight.

Tony was always so busy..always his father but never his dad.

Rolling his shoulders, Peter went to head towards the bathroom in the hall when he suddenly felt a hand gripping his bicep, keeping him in place.

"Just get ready here dummy--jeez." Tony muttered as he went to take a heavy seat against his cozy twin.

There were a few moments of hesitation on his part, but was calmed by the soft breathing of his father and the way he leaned back on the mattress--exhausted from the look of it.

His belly protruding up—and Peter’s mouth ran dry as he watched his father’s large, tan hand cascade across it.

"Something on your mind?" Peter dared to ask as he removed his wet socks and jeans first, "Work been hard?"

He bit back more of what he could add, waiting to see if his father wished to speak at all--or if he planned to keep it to himself like usual.

He knows he did it as to not worry him..but sometimes Peter thought it was worse not knowing as opposed to knowing because at least then he'd be in the loop about his father’s life.

Peter removed his t-shirt next, and cringed at how cold his skin was and how wet his hair had been from the snow falling before.

"Work's always a pain." Tony muttered, peaking Peter's interest immediately because by god he was talking to him.

"I've missed you too Pete.." He heard in a mumbled tone of voice, "Glad to see you back on your break."

Peter was just putting on a new pair of boxers after his nerdy t-shirt when he noticed his father looking at him from his propped up position--Peter's pillow now making for a good headrest.

There was a still moment where his father’s eyes ran over him as if he were a statue rather than a boy, but as soon as the gaze was noticed—it was fleeting.

"Help me up Pete." He murmured again, and Peter couldn't help but hurryingly comply.

It had been so long.. He was nearly 20 and it had been almost 6 years since his father had meandered into his room to simply have a bit of back and forth chit-chat.

Peter wished he could remember what happened all those years ago, but regretfully, nothing ever came to mind.

Peter took hold of his old man's hand and when he was up--Peter suddenly noticed he wasn't letting go. He watched as his father held a steady grip on his hand--doing nothing except for staring at it.

"D-Dad?" He whispered.

Silence once again followed, but as he was asked to help him up again--his fathers body nearly falling on his own, Peter noticed the melancholy in his eyes and the way his hair was a bit greasier than usual.

"I'll see you in there."

and before Peter could do anything more, he was once again, alone.

Alone--cold without the touch of Tony's hand on him--

Had he done something wrong? To not deserve more time--more attention--more affection and love?

Peter heard the faint mumble of a voice, but had otherwise tried not to think about the woman awaiting him on the couch that was accompanying his father..

He didn't want to think about her. All he wanted was the man--Tony--his father--

Flicking the light off a lot slower than he normally did, his bare feet padded down the hall to find that his father's face was the only one illuminated by the screen.

"Where's um.."

"I sent her home." His father said matter-of-factly.

What??

"But dad she's drunk--how--"

"Uber--a taxi--I gave her the money for it--and plus she's not that sloshed. She had a right enough mind not to argue with me about it which I think counts towards some level of sobriety when it comes to her."

"So often am I having to pry her away at night.." He muttered, seething under his breath as he popped a beer bottle open and took a long swig.

"But..the movie--she wanted to watch the movie."

Peter watched his father down a bit more of his drink before giving him a look--a stare, if anything.

It was cold in nature, but heated coming from Peter's perspective. His spine shivered and his gut was kicking itself as Peter forced himself to look away.

"Sounds like you wanted her around--"

"You want her around dad, and I..well.."

"Yeah yeah I know how it goes." Tony huffed out, patting the spot before him once more.

"Sit."

Sit? What am I, a dog?

Peter's steps were hesitant, yet quickened as he neared closer and closer to his father’s side.

He was warm and soft..a heavy presence beside him that nobody but him could possibly fill.

Peter looked over at him as the movie flickered to life and his father wrap an arm around his smaller frame--his large hand rubbing up and down his bicep.

It was a good movie--he figured it was at least as he watched some random car get blown up into a million pieces.

He wondered if, since his dad had gotten up and gotten a bit more to drink, he'd be able to get away with something.

To get away with..

well..

Peter's heart rate quickened its pace and his mouth seemed to water at the idea of wrapping his arm around his father’s gut.

Feeling the warmth..the strength..

feeling close.

He wondered how many problems would be fixed in his life if he wasn't afraid his father would think him a total weirdo for wanting some type of physical attention from him.

He used to get kisses goodnight and hugs after school--maybe even a high five or a fist bump when he'd done a real good job on a homework assignment.

Peter's eyes filled with tears as he felt his body pressed up against his father’s own--and as his head rested against the other man's chest--he wondered..

Just..

Just..

Peter heard the familiar clank of glass and the click of a hand-held bottle opener, and knew this might be the only chance he's got.

To touch him. Feel him..

Hold him..

With a hesitant hand and a shaking set of fingers, Peter let his hand roam across his father’s stuffed belly--

"Mmph.." He heard his Father grunt--his own hand suddenly patting Peter on the arm--

" A little lower would ya.." He murmured out--a clear slur evident. Peter felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants, and nearly pulled away--but upon realizing his dad..

"Be daddy's good boy.."

Peter suddenly fell lax against his father as his hand continued to rub across the tight old t-shirt--his fingers occasionally drifting over the line of hot, hair covered skin that peaked from where the shirt wasn't quite reaching.

Peter felt his father pull him closer after a few moments of rubbing, and when he felt a kiss being placed against his head--Peter gripped the shirt a bit, scared, exhilarated--and aroused all at the same time.

Please do it again, he pleaded within his brain, and when he did, Peter melted even more.

"Your daddy's a sick man Peter. Surprised you came back at all."

Sick?

"Sick?" Peter asked, suddenly a bit concerned, though he was quickly shot down with a chuckle from beside him.

"Sick in the head, Pete.." and he sighed then, Peter suddenly feeling the man squeeze him one last time before his body was shifting away.

Peter's eyes widened even more as tears began to rim the area making his vision blurred in the dark--

"Dad?.." Peter asked, voice nearly cracking at the word.

"I think it'd be best if we get on to bed.."

"B-But.." and Peter suddenly was met with the action on the screen that was still playing, though the volume was low, "but the movie--we can't not finish the movie."

"You finish it then--tell me how it goes in the morning." His father murmured before standing up and stretching a bit, hands filled with dark glass bottles.

Peter stared down at them before noticing the tent that was evident in the other man's pajama pants--it was clear even through the tears hazing his vision.

It was clear even through the thick darkness that surrounded them--and all Peter could do was sit there.

Sit, think--realize he wasn't the only one.

Realize he wasn't crazy--

Impulse is what coursed through Peter's veins as his heart pumped out pure liquid courage--

"Daddy d-don't go." Peter whined into the night--his hand wrapping around his father’s wrist with a tight, shaking grip.

"Don't leave me."

His father turned on his heel after a few stagnant moments of silence.

"Peter.."

"Please--please just sit down." He pleaded.

The man continued to stand, staring down at him and watching with his roaming eyes at the way Peter's free hand patted the space he'd once occupied.

"Hold me daddy..please just.." and suddenly his voice grew wet and his vision blurred even more.

What if he didn't listen? What if he left again like last time?

He didn't think he could handle another five years when one December evening he got this.

All of this--and for what?

Peter felt his body shake as a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around him--hands splayed.

"I-I think I'm sick too." He stuttered out past sniffling cries, "Daddy don't leave me alone."

Peter felt his body pulled against the other--and as he listened to the gentle hushing and felt the rubbing on his back begin, his father spoke.

"I could never leave you.." he muttered as his father’s hand ran through his soft head of brown, drying curls.

"I'm so sorry Peter.."

Sorry for what?

Making him sick?

Making him love his father the way nobody ever should?

Peter cried even harder into his father’s soft chest and figured he'd never say it was okay, but he also figured that forgiveness would soon follow regardless.

They were sick together now, after all..and they would die together too.

END

— — —

Golly gosh ha--anyways. I wrote this last night at a stunning 2:32 am so it of course got a bit angsty

It kinda felt like Peter regressed almost with the use of ‘daddy’ at the end—but who knows. Maybe he was just doing it to gain the attention of his father since he’d heard it a few times already that night :P

Hope ya'll are doing okay tho <3

#starker #ironman x spiderman #tony stark x peter parker #starker fic #starkercest #why is it always so late when I write this stuff #i have another one I wrote last week I believe but it’s pretty dark— #maybe I’ll save it for a whumptober prompt ha

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

I Need Help | R.C.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: While visiting Nassau with Rafe and his dad, you watch him have a breakdown. When he tells his dad he needs help and Ward ignores him, you jump in.

A/N: Been on my “I can fix him” bullshit as I’m sure you can tell by my last Rafe fic but every time I watch this scene I just want to hug him. I didn’t really know how I wanted to end this so it kinda cuts off but I still like it.

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: mental health crisis, talk of guns and shooting, Ward being terrible

Word Count: 2.5k

-

When Rafe invited you to go with him to his house in Nassau, you were ecstatic. Apparently, he and his Dad had to go down for work and Ward had okayed you to come with. You and Rafe both knew he would be pretty busy with his dad, but you didn’t mind. You figured you would hang out by the beach or at the pool during the day and then spend time with Rafe in the evenings. What you didn’t expect was to get locked up in the house with an armed escort.

The first day had gone normally, you relaxed during the day and then hung out with Rafe in the evening. He took you to a nice restaurant in town and then the two of you sat on his back patio and looked at the stars. The next day, Rafe told you he and his dad were going to be busy. They had to take some expensive shipment to the airport, so they would be gone all day. You were more than fine with that because Rafe had told you that his dad would be heading back to Outer Banks with the shipment and the two of you would get to spend a few more days on the island together.

-

You watch as they load the seemingly heavy boxes into the back of Ward’s truck. There were four other cars filled with armed guards to escort the Cameron men to the airport.

Jesus Christ. What could be worth that much security?

You don’t know what's in those boxes, but honestly you don’t want to. Rafe seemed pretty shaken the day before after talking to his dad about what was in the safe. It didn’t seem like something you want to get involved in.

As they get ready to head to the airport, Rafe turns to where you were watching him out the window, raising his hand in farewell. You wave back and blow him a kiss. A grin lights up his face and he hops in the truck, the envoy pulling away from the house.

-

While he’s gone, you alternate between reading and napping by the pool, the hours speeding by. In the late afternoon, you head inside to grab some food when suddenly one of Ward’s guards comes busting into the room.

“Woah, what the hell!”

“Miss L/N.” The guard tips his head at you.

“What is going on?”

“Mr. Cameron has commanded that we not let you leave the premises.”

That threw you for a loop. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to leave? “Um, okay that’s fine, I guess. I’m just going to go back out by the pool.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the guard informs you, at least having the decency to look sheepish, “we cannot let you leave the house at all.”

-

That’s how you came to the position you were in now, stuck in the living room waiting for Rafe and Ward to get home so that you could figure out what the hell was going on. You had texted Rafe a few hours ago, asking if everything was okay, but you still hadn’t heard back, so you settled for pacing across the room worriedly. The guards watch you warily, but stay at their posts, guarding all the entrances into the large house.

“Y/N?” You hear Rafe’s frantic voice as the front door clicks open.

“Yeah, Rafe I’m in here.”

He rushes into the room, looking disheveled, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. He seems shaken, so you hold him for a moment, letting him calm down a bit before you pull away slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Rafe, baby, what is going on? All these guards showed up and they wouldn’t let me leave the house. I don’t understand. What is happening?”

Rafe pulls away from you then, moving to pace the room just like you had minutes earlier. He runs his hands through his hair repeatedly, looking back and forth between you and the foyer, where you assume his dad is.

“Um, I can’t–” he cuts himself off, “it’s just, something happened during the drive– everything’s gonna be fine, I–”

“Rafe.” Ward strides into the room, cutting Rafe off. “C’mon son we gotta go. We gotta get to the docks.”

Rafe stops pacing then, looking over at you where you stood eyes wide with confusion and disbelief, and then back at his dad. “I can’t leave her here, dad.”

“She’s fine, Rafe. She’s surrounded by guards.”

“Just let her come with us, dad, please,” he pleads with his dad, “I need her.”

Ward shakes his head exasperated. “Alright, fine. Y/N, let’s go.”

“I–”

“Let’s go! Now!”

Rafe nods at you reassuringly, grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car. “It’s okay,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you into your seat. Before you know it, the three of you are speeding toward the docks, Ward’s armed escort following behind.

-

You’ve been at the dock for about an hour, and you still have absolutely no idea what is going on. From what you can tell, Ward’s mysterious shipment had been stolen on the way to the airport and recovered by the police at the docks. Ward and Rafe have been knee deep in police business since you all arrived, but you just sit off to the side, not wanting to get in anyone’s way.

“Hey.” Rafe plops down next to you with a sigh, immediately lacing his fingers with yours.

“Hey, get it all worked out?” You lean into him, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with your thumb in an attempt to relieve some of his tension.

He nods his head. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You had me a little freaked when you came home earlier,” you admit, “didn’t seem like yourself. Are you okay?”

Rafe shakes his head, eyes welling up, making you even more concerned. “I don’t know,” He confesses under his breath, “I don’t know.”

Before you can ask anything further, Ward sits down on Rafe’s other side. “They say we can go any second here,” he states, “I’m gonna fly it out in the morning. Until then, it’s in the capable hands of the Bahamian Police Department.”

Rafe doesn’t respond, his eyes glued to where your hands are connected. You wait for a moment, but when he doesn’t say anything you jump in. “That’s great, Mr. Cameron. I’m glad it all got sorted out.”

“Rafe, I know you’re upset.” Ward ignores you, directing his words toward his son. “I know you’re feeling bad, but you don’t have to, okay? I know you didn’t mean to hurt her. Alright?”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightens. “Hurt her? Rafe, what is he talking about?” you whisper.

“They said they’ve checked all the hospitals. They checked the morgue. There’s been nothing.”

Still no response from Rafe. The more Ward talks, the stiffer Rafe gets. Clearly, this is not a conversation that he wanted to have around you. You are just beyond confused. You have no idea who this mystery woman is or how she got hurt. All you want is for Rafe to explain what his dad is talking about, but you can tell you won’t be getting any answers out of him right now.

Ward continues, “That’s good news, means she’s okay, alright? She’ll come back to us.”

“What if I’m not okay?” Rafe murmurs after a beat of silence.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Rafe?” you question. He looks at you, then turns back to his Dad.

“I’m not okay.”

Ward brushes it off. “You are. You’re okay, buddy.”

“No, Dad, I’m not okay.”

You can tell by the tone of Rafe’s voice that he’s being serious. Something is really wrong with him and his dad isn’t taking it seriously.

“Mr. Cameron–” You try to speak up for Rafe, but Ward cuts you off.

“We’ll go back, get a good night’s sleep tonight. We’ll get a steak or something. You’re gonna feel completely different in the morning. I know that you will.”

Rafe sends you a brief, desperate glance and then buries his head in his hands. “Dad, I thought I was okay, but I’m not.”

“Get control,” Ward leans over him, “get control of yourself.”

“I just keep, I keep having these, um,” Rafe jumps to his feet and you follow suit, “these thoughts in my head, and I don’t– I don’t know if I can control them. And I just, I’m afraid of what's gonna happen.” Ward stands up and grabs Rafe’s shoulders, trying to get him to stop talking, but Rafe continues. “I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take, okay?”

“We’ll just talk about it. We’ll go back to the house and talk about it.”

“I’m just afraid.” Rafe looks at you as he says those words and you swear you feel your heart shatter. He looks so scared and in pain, and all you want to do is hold him and tell him that everything is going to be okay. “I need help, okay? Not her, I need it, okay?

Ward ignores him completely, instead of comforting him, he calls out to the police officers to reassure them that everything’s alright.

“Dad, you’re not listening. I’m having a hard time right now. ”

“I know, I know. We can talk about it.” Ward pulls him into a hug and for a moment you think Rafe might be okay. His dad would help him, he could calm him down. And then, the moment’s over.

“You need to man up,” Ward whispers angrily in Rafe’s ear, “look at me.” He holds Rafe’s head between his hands. “Man up. Right now.” Ward walks away to talk to the police officers, leaving his son alone in the midst of his crisis.

Rafe just looks at you, mouth hung open, eyes filled with tears. You move to him quickly, pulling him into a tight hug. You know he wouldn’t want to cause a scene, especially in front of his dad, but you also know that he needs this. He needs to know that someone sees his pain, someone cares.

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s gonna be okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

You pull away from Rafe, taking his hand and leading him over to the car. You make eye contact with Ward as you walk and he shakes his head at the two of you. It talks all your self control not to rip his head off, never having felt this kind of rage toward anyone. What kind of man sees his son falling apart in front of him, and instead of doing anything to help him, tells him to man up and walks away. Your hands are practically shaking with anger by the time you shut Rafe’s door.

“We’ll be back at the house,” you yell in Ward’s direction, not stopping to hear his response. You jump in the driver’s seat and peel out of the parking lot, wanting to get Rafe home as fast as possible.

-

Rafe doesn’t say a word on the drive back, opting to stare at his hands as you speed through the island. You pull into the driveway and put the car in park, turning to look over at him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He nods in response.

When the two of you get inside the house, you head straight for your room, pulling Rafe along with you. Luckily, most of the guards are down at the docks with Ward and the few that remain at the house stay far away from the two of you after seeing the determined look on your face.

Once in your room, Rafe sits down on the edge of the bed while you lock the door. Turning to face him you plead, “Rafe, you have gotta tell me what happened today. Please.” You walk over to sit next to him. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what's going on.”

“Sarah’s alive,” Rafe blurts out.

“Sarah, your sister? She’s alive?”

“And John B.”

You know how hard the past couple of weeks have been for Rafe and his family after his sister was presumed dead. You didn’t know the details of what happened, but you knew that Sarah and her boyfriend, John B, had gone on the run after the death of the sheriff, and were thought to have drowned when their boat got caught in a storm. Ward had told the whole town that John B killed the sheriff in cold blood, but you found that pretty hard to believe. You grew up around Sarah and it seemed pretty unlikely that she would run off with anyone like that, especially away from her own family. But there weren’t many people at the airfield that day, and you knew if it wasn’t him then the killer had to be one of the Camerons, so you had shoved down your doubts, refusing to think about what they might mean.

“Wow, okay.” You shake your head. “How do you know that?”

“We saw them, today, on the way to the airport.” He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he has to tell you. “That shipment that we were transporting today, it was gold. The same gold that Sarah and John B and their pogue friends were looking for on Kildare, but my dad got to it first.”

You try to stay calm as he explains, your mind reeling more and more as he speaks.

“I guess they figured out it was here, I don't know how, and they came after us. They had this whole crew of islanders and they jacked our truck, pulled guns on us and everything. But, we need that gold, Y/N. My family, we need that money, and I couldn't let them take it. So, I shot at them. And I was aiming for John B, okay? But I hit– I think I hit Sarah.”

Oh my god.

You try to keep your breathing steady. You want to freak out, want to yell, want to ask him what the hell he was thinking, but you know that won’t get you anywhere, and it definitely won’t help Rafe’s mental state. Right now he needs you to stay calm.

Rafe starts getting frantic as he continues. “I just– I wasn’t thinking okay! I didn’t know what to do! We need that money. My dad, my dad said we’re going broke. And then in the car, he told me to grab the gun. Shooting at them was my first instinct. I don’t know! I just– I need help, okay? I need help.” He starts sobbing, head in his hands. “I need help.”

“I know, I know.” You pull him into a hug, his head buried in the crook of your elbow, both hands coming up to grip your forearm.

“Something is wrong with me, Y/N,” he sobs.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you soothe, trying to keep your own tears at bay. You keep holding him as he cries, knowing you would hold him forever if that’s what he needed.

“You’re gonna be okay, Rafe. I’m gonna get you help, I promise.”

-

Writing masterlist

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #obx x reader #obx fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

[kivaember]

freud/rusty wip...

a wip from my rusty/freud fic... man my brain has not been focusing well today hggh save me... crack ship turned legit ship... save me freud/rusty...

“Commander!”

Down the hallway, just before he walked around the corner, Freud paused and slowly turned around. Rusty was slightly breathless as he trotted towards him, having spent the last thirty minutes hunting the ever elusive commander down by grilling people for ‘Freud sightings’. How a normal, unaugmented human could walk up and down the HQ stairs all day without tiring, Rusty didn’t know… 

“Oh, V.IV Rusty,” Freud greeted easily, his perpetual smile not faltering. “What’s up? You look like you’re in a rush.”

“I was looking for you,” Rusty sighed, resting his hands on his hips and evening out his breathing. “You’re a difficult man to pin down.” 

“Hm, really?” Freud glanced upwards thoughtfully. “I was just taking a short walk…”

A short walk? This lunatic had walked up ten flights of stairs only to walk back down them again. On what planet was that short???

“...but you’ve caught me now.” Freud slid his hands into his pockets, tilting his head fractionally as his gaze grew heavy-lidded. “I’m ready to be pinned.”

Rusty ignored that… awkward phrasing. He probably hadn’t meant it like that. “We got derailed by Snail earlier but I was wondering about that spar you promised. Us using STEEL HAZE’s data, I mean.”

Freud didn’t say anything at first, and his expression didn’t really change, but Rusty got the feeling that he had caught him off guard.The Vesper commander glanced away briefly, before looking back at him with a wider smile. 

“Oh, well… sure…” he said slowly, like he was genuinely surprised Rusty would come to him first about it. “I’m free if you are. No one should be using the simulators right now… unless it’s V.V…”

“Hawkins? I didn’t know he was so diligent with his training,” Rusty said without thinking, before wincing. He tried not to imply disparaging things about his fellow Vespers, but the fact was Hawkins was a pretty average AC pilot - in fact, that could be said for most of them, with the exception of Snail and Freud, of course. 

See, while the Vespers were actively recruited amongst Arquebus’s ranks, they weren’t scouted solely for their piloting skills - they were squad commanders, after all, not frontline troops, and Arquebus wanted the Vespers to be as self-sufficient as possible when deployed onto planets well outside of the solar colonies’ robust logistic chains. That meant the Vespers needed someone capable of budgeting their resources, sourcing supplies, managing their administration and operation security, etcetera. In Arquebus’s mind, they only really needed two ace pilots to perform the high-risk, high-reward missions that couldn’t be left to disposable waves of MTs. 

That was the only reason Rusty managed to claw his way into the Vesper ranks: they needed a second ace pilot to ‘support’ Freud.

This allowed the other Vespers to focus on their true role, and aside from their mandatory sparring sessions, no one really put in the hours to keep their piloting skills razor sharp. They didn’t have to. They weren’t expected to. They piloted ACs and were augmented, and most of the time they were fighting mercenaries running ACs scrounged from a dumpster, or workers in construction MTs. They didn’t need to be especially skilled. They didn’t have to train regularly. Freud and Rusty conducted the truly dangerous missions, so why should they bother?

So, hearing that Hawkins was willingly doing extra training outside of his scant few mandatory hours? Of course Rusty was surprised. He’d been under the assumption that Hawkins was content to be a mediocre pilot.

“V.V? Diligent?” Freud snorted obnoxiously. “He isn’t. He’s content with being passably adequate.”

Rusty actually blinked at the caustic disdain that dripped from the commander’s voice, a harsh tone that contrasted eerily with Freud’s otherwise warm smile. It was uncannily jarring. 

“But he’s been tasked with assessing a potential recruit. Some Gen Ten that Arquebus want to properly field test,” Freud continued. “Out of the batch, he’s the only one that’s a somewhat okay pilot. The rest were dregs.”

i get the feeling he’s pissed about this, Rusty couldn’t help but think, staring at the peculiar expression on Freud’s face. That smile, which still came across as genuine, was fixed in place, but his tone, and his dangerously glittering eyes, spoke of a bubbling caldera of resentment and irritation that promised to scald anyone who poked the nest a bit too carelessly. 

“I’m… assuming you don’t get a choice in accepting or rejecting him,” Rusty said hesitantly, trying to strike a perfectly neutral tone. He wasn’t actually sure why Freud was being so open with him about this. Maybe he just needed to vent and Rusty was handily available?

But really, wasn’t this something he should vent about with a close confidant?

though, does he have one? Rusty frowned, i don’t think i’ve ever heard of freud having close friends or family…

“Of course I don’t,” Freud said easily, pivoting on his heel to resume walking. Rusty hurried to keep pace. “Who am I to question Arquebus’s faultless wisdom?”

“Well…” Rusty hesitated, once more struck with a suspicion that Freud was dangling bait here. He couldn’t help but think back to that morning in the elevator, where Freud’s gaze had been incisive enough to physically cut, where Rusty had been so certain he had known…

They took one step, and Rusty contemplated letting the topic drop and leaving his own thoughts about the company ambiguous. 

They took another step, and he immediately discarded that idea, because what if that made Freud clam up and Rusty’s investigation ended up going nowhere?

A third step, and Rusty remembered that this investigation was an impulsive personal project that wasn’t really relevant to his overarching goal. He could let it drop and take the cautious route, so he didn’t blow up years of espionage work for nothing. 

A fourth, and couldn’t help but think what if he’s genuine though? If Freud’s discontent with Arquebus was true… if it was…imagining getting a pilot of his skill on Rusty’s side… it was a gamble, a super risky gamble, but…

A fifth step.

“You’re the Vesper commander,” Rusty finally said. “Surely your opinion holds weight with the higher ups?”

Freud burst into laughter. 

It was a startling loud noise, a full on belly laugh that had Freud throwing his head back and cackling like a madman at the ceiling. Rusty actually jumped half a foot in the air, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. 

“Oh! Oh…” Freud swiftly got himself under control, slapping a hand over his mouth that did nothing to hide his wild grin. “That’s so cute… I forget how much of a country bumpkin you are.”

“W-What- what do you mean by that?” Rusty huffed, concealing his surprise with feigned offence. He had no idea Freud had such an obnoxiously loud laugh. “It’s just common sense, isn’t it?”

Freud snorted and dropped his hand to shake his head. 

“Corporate executives and common sense aren’t on speaking terms,” Freud said simply. 

#armored core #armored core 6 #v.i freud #v.iv rusty #freud/rusty #fanfic ramblings #long wip but hghghg #work's been slugging me in the face repeatedly #pls... let me write...

[moral-terpitude]

The Dead Rabbit - Part I

Snow pattered against the windows of the two-story bar as Charlotte sat, receipts and books spread in front of her, in silence. It was 2:00 in the morning, and the bar had been vacant for the last half hour. The wind creaked and whistled, but inside she was protected by the warm fire that burned in the fireplace. The walls were lined with polished wood, and the bar shone and reflected the lights that hung above it. The door chimed, as it had the last few times the wind had blown it open, but this time was different. A man entered. Charlotte instantly felt that she should know him, but she couldn’t place where from.

"Hello," she greeted, as she placed herself back behind the bar. He was adorned with a wool coat atop his suit. The heels of his shoes clicked and echoed on the solid wood floors as he met her at the bar.

He smiled. His eyes were piercing blue in a way that almost took her breath away. "I hope I’m not interrupting you," he didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. He commanded the space around him, regardless of where he was, as if he owned it. "Is it too late for a drink?"

"Not at all. What would you like?" She felt him stare into her soul as she waited for a response.

"Whiskey." His breath was warm and rough all at once, lingering in the air with a heavy accent. He removed his snow-covered hat and ruffled the top of his hair. The sides were shaved short.

"Irish or Scotch?"

"Irish." He nodded. His eyes looked at her and avoided her all at once. A familiar feeling played in the back of his head. Her face and eyes both looked kind, framed by soft blonde tresses that waved and curled over her shoulders. She was familiar in the same way as someone you pass on the street every day but you don’t know their name. "Are you the owner?"

She poured his whiskey two fingers high before placing the drink on a coaster in front of him.

"Depends on who’s asking."

He extended a hand, "My name’s Thomas. Thomas Shelby. I’ve been traveling for some business, but I will now be in the area frequently."

His name sent a shiver down her spine. A deja vu moment sent a deep and spiraling carnal need into her gut. They shook hands and both experienced an electric feeling like they had never experienced, coursing through them to their core.

"Yes, I’m the owner; Charlotte.” She confirmed, returning the bottle to its home among the wide array of whiskeys offered. She lingered, looking at the walls a moment longer, feeling the feeling that she wasn’t aware they both felt. He watched her, thoughts forming and dissipating of questions he wanted to ask her, the original thing he entered the establishment for coming to mind only briefly, as she plucked a different 18-year back down and poured it for herself. "So what do you do for business, Mr. Shelby?"

A longing pinged in his chest at someone other than his employees calling him Mr. Shelby. The bemused tone of her voice had his mind racing, trying to place this exchange with a memory of something that had happened before. The feeling was there. The familiarity. However, just as quickly as he tried to recall, he came up blank.

“My family has done importing and exporting from England to the United States since prohibition; so now I am here to sit in an office, and be a figure head of the Shelby Company,” he sipped his drink, expression stony. Unwavering. Old money. “Tomorrow my horses and my possessions will arrive and will be moved into my great grandfathers residence upstate.”

He knocked back the rest of the drink, and she spotted three engraved metal cuffs fitted tight to his right wrist. He felt her watch him as she read the names and dates, golden emblazoned in matte black.

"Friends..." he started, his raspy voice threatening to drop even lower an octave if it were possible, "Brothers, that I lost in Iraq."

She grabbed the 18-year from the shelf again, and poured them both another drink. "You lost brothers. My husband lost himself. He was never the same when he came back. He took his life 4 years ago."

She stared down into the warm amber liquid that filled their glasses. She didn’t talk about her husband often. The truth was, before he left, he wasn’t a nice man. He wasn’t a great man. However, she wasn’t going to leave him in the middle of the war either.

He sipped from the crystal glass once again, "I’m sorry for your loss."

"As am I for yours."

"Smoke?" He asked, in a rare instance of not being sure what to do next.

She nodded as she followed him outside. She hadn’t smoked in months but now felt as good a time as ever.

Her sweater didn’t offer her much warmth once they were outside, and he immediately noticed. He pulled the silver cigarette case from the interior pocket of the coat before draping it over her shoulders. "Some traditions die hard in my family. This cigarette case was my grandfather's and his grandfather's before him, who I am named after, Thomas Shelby." they both felt a shiver, as the questioning and haunting feeling lingered in the back of his mind once more, like it did frequently, "In addition to making our own whiskey, my family more recently has started growing our own tobacco. It’s not like any Marlboro, or Pall Mall, or anything you’ve ever had."

She noted that, among other traditions, they were probably also all gentlemen. It seemed that not many men these days would offer a woman their coat. Let alone without her asking.

He rolled the cigarette against his lips before lighting his and then hers. They smoked in silence for the longest time as snow flew around them. She noted the tobacco was much sweeter and smoother than anything she had ever tasted. "So how do you plan to spend your holiday, Mr. Shelby?"

Christmas was fast approaching, it being the 21st, and it seemed like all anyone was talking about was their plans. Charlotte herself had none. She would presumably spend the day with a book or a movie.

"Please, call me Tommy." She noted the skip from Mr. Shelby straight over Thomas and right to Tommy as she waited for him to continue. "I am sure I will spend my day the same as I have the last few years. I will call my family, I will take the horses out, have a nice meal, and I will spend it alone. I would offer you to come ride, but I assume you will either be busy here or with your family, Charlotte."

She paused as she contemplated his invitation. Upstate was about a two-hour drive from where they now stood. But for the last couple of years, she had been closing the bar on the 22nd through the 29th for a much needed break before getting ready for the New Year. "I’m a widow and an only child without parents. I would gladly accept your invitation, Tommy.

His kind smile touched his eyes as he stubbed out his cigarette and they returned inside to the warmth.

They exchanged phone numbers and he insisted on sending a car for her on the 23rd to spend a few days with him through the holidays. She hadn’t a clue what had gotten into her to make her agree without hesitation to his offer, but whatever it was, it thrilled her.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #modern day au #tommy shelby #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #mysticism #eventual smut #modern!tommy #modern!tommy shelby #the dead rabbit

[ads1008]

In another life

Lighting never strikes twice. That was what Eddie hoped as he climbed the ladder screaming Buck’s name. His ears were ringing not hearing the shouting of the 118, demanding him to come back down and stop. How could he stop when Buck, the man he knew he loved but would never share, was dangling for his life? Or the worst dead. 

The rain poured harder mixing with Eddie’s tears as he continued his climb. Lightning strikes again a couple of inches away causing him to lay low still gripping the ladder while Buck still hangs 40 feet above the ground. Eddie sucked in a breath continuing the climb just a few more rungs. 

“Buck, hold on,” Eddie yelled. He grabbed hold of the rope, which was heavy in his hands. Eddie had held Buck’s life in his hands a million times. Each time he never felt like he was going to lose hold. Tonight was different as he slowly lowered Buck down knowing Hen and Bobby were down below waiting for him. 

Hen and Bobby grabbed a whole of him as Eddie cut the rope leaving the last lifeline he had of Buck. He ran down the ladder as fast as he could to meet them on the other side of the gurney. They all have been here before. 

“His breathing is swallow,” Chim called, “Starting chest compressions.” 

“His heart stopped beating, we need the AED,” Hen commanded. 

Eddie shook away the fog running into the ambulance to grab the device and hand it over to Chimney. At that moment Eddie had never felt so useless and scared. 

Eddie stood as he watched Buck rise and fall off from the gurney. Each shook trying to bring him back to life. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. Clear, one, clear, two, clear, three, clear, four, clear, five. 

“We have a heartbeat load him in,” 

Eddie scrambled picking up the end where Buck’s head laid, unconscious and still. He sat next to him grabbing his hand, sending a plea, a wish. Everything would be okay.

—-----------------------------------

“What a man, whatta man. Whatta mighty good man” sang from the radio. 

“That was What a man by Salt and Pepper. Stay put because more great hits are coming your way at WJ 1.03 the place to get the hits and the classics in LA.” 

Evan turned his car off reaching in the back seat of his car for his book bag. He unzipped it looking frantically for his badge. Each pocket comes up empty. Today was not a day to be late with it being Monday and the copier was already jammed with last-minute copies. Then it dawned on him, Evan had put it in the glove box. 

Evan scrambled out of his car running into the school building as the bell rang. 

“Good morning, Mr. Buckley. Crazy morning.” 

“Good morning, Carol. More like a busy weekend. My brother is staying with me because a pipe burst in his apartment.” 

“Tell Daniel, I said hello.” 

“Will do" Evan called over his shoulder as he ran down the hallway to his classroom. 

“Good morning, my friends. Has anyone done anything recently for the history books?” 

Evan paused waiting for his students to think of anything. Finally, a hand shot up. Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites but Christopher was definitely Buck’s favorite. He was such a smart kid. 

“Yes, Chris,” 

“My dad saved someone from a fire.” 

“Your dad is a firefighter,” Evan asked. There was a point in time he thought he was going to become a firefighter. Plans changed and teaching was more his calling anyways. 

“He’s a hero,” 

—---------------------------------

Evan and Chris stood outside the school waiting for his dad to come to pick him up. Something about his shift ran over and would be late. Evan didn’t mind. Chris was telling him stories about how he moved to Texas and went to the zoo with his tia Peppa. 

“I am sorry for being late. Hello, mijo,” a man called wearing an LAFD shirt running up the sidewalk and scooping up Christopher in a tight hug. 

Evan smiled as Chris laughed in his dad’s arms. He had the biggest smile he had ever seen. 

“It’s not a problem, Mr. Diaz. Chris is such a wonderful kid. We were just about to discuss which is a better predator. A lion or a tiger.” 

Mr. Diaz smiled at Evan. Evan nervously laughed. This man made him feel a certain kind of way and he couldn’t put a finger on it. 

 “He just loves the zoo. Begs to go every weekend. It’s just so hard to go with my shifts and to find childcare but that's my problem,” Mr. Diaz laughed, “Christopher say bye to Mr. Buckley.” 

“Bye, Mr. Buckley,” Chris called. 

Evan watched as they walked away. For a moment he could feel his feet moving towards them. Wanting to go with them like it was a natural thing. Evan shook it off, grabbed his bag, and headed home. 

—----------------------

A teacher's salary didn’t get you far in LA but a small apartment with a wonderful view of the brick wall of the apartment across from you. Luckily Evan also had to walk up several flights of steps since his apartment was on the eighth floor. 

“Maddie, they said the pipe wouldn’t be fixed for two weeks. Besides, Evan doesn’t mind.” 

Evan walked in to find his older brother sprawled across his green couch. Daniel was the cool older brother that Evan looked up to. Everything Daniel did, Evan wanted to do too. Daniel moved to Los Angeles to become an actor. Evan knew he was going to move to LA once he graduated college. Daniel was his best friend until now. He was kinda a mess. 

Evan walked around cleaning up the Chinese takeout and dirty dishes that were piled up in the sinks. He loved his brother but he had to go. Daniel walked over to sit at one of the bar stools so Evan could see Maddie. 

“Hey, Mads. Two weeks isn’t so bad. Now tell me when are you coming to visit.” Evan questioned. 

“It’s pretty busy here at the hospital, but I will get out there for the summertime. Save a spot for me at the beach.” 

“Will do. How are mom and dad?” 

“Evan, they’re mom and dad. Mom is obsessed with her book club and dad is still busy at the college.” 

Sound about right, Evan thought. Their parents were so busy with keeping up appearances. Country club on Saturday. Church functions on Sunday. Dad flew for conferences. Mom joined a million clubs and sponsored the next charity event. It was the Buckley siblings on their own for school and making dinner. Maddie was the mom and Daniel was the dad for Evan when he was a small child. There was never a point in time where he was wondering where they were when he had Maddie and Daniel. 

—----------------------------------

Eddie paced back and forth in front of Buck’s room. It’s been twelve hours since they brought Buck in. Twelve hours since Eddie begged for his partner’s heart to reset. Pray for him to be okay. To not die under his hands but to live. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to go into the room or look through the window. Couldn’t bear to see Buck hooked up to all of the machines, unable to breathe on his own. So, standing guard was all Eddie could do. 

“He looks so small. When Buck was young, he was always a reckless kid. Making ramps to jump higher and higher even though half of the time he would miss the landing. I would run out to clean up the scratches. Scrolling him for being reckless. Buck has broken every bone in his body and came out of it with a smile. I always thought he was,” 

“Invincible,” Eddie whispered, finishing Maddie’s sentence. 

Maddie turned to Eddie with tears in her eyes. Eddie didn’t know Maddie. He knew her as Buck’s sister and Chim’s girlfriend. Eddie felt bad for not getting to know her more. 

“When will this be done? If it isn’t Buck in the room, it's Chim or you.” 

Eddie gave her a perplexed look. 

“Me?” 

Maddie nodded, wrapping her arms around her waist. Shielding the cold that was not there. If Eddie knew the feeling because he could still feel the cold wet rain on his skin even though he had been dried for hours. 

“Yes, you. I wasn’t there for Buck during the sniper situation but I heard enough stories about Buck’s actions. He was reckless and emotional. Chimney would come home a wreck after begging him to open up or say anything. He wouldn’t. Chimney said Buck came to work and went back to Christopher. They would ask him to stay just for a quick meal and each time he said no. He had to go home and be with his,” Maddie didn’t finish the sentence. 

Buck had been running home after a long shift, half asleep when the crew asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He just shook them off, saying he had to get home because he needed to drop his son off at school. The crew stared at each other not saying a word because he was that child’s second father and Eddie would agree that day he was discharged from the hospital. 

“We’re firefighters. This was what we signed up for right? Protect others and bring them home to their families even though we know that we might not make it back to ours.” Eddie said. 

Maddie gave him a solemn look, laying a hand on his crossed arms. 

“Eddie, why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” 

Eddie laid a hand over her hand dropping it back to her side. “Maddie you know I can’t,” 

“I do,” 

—--------------------------------------------

“Daniel, is there a full moon? Did you know full moons cause dysregulates in the gravity of the Earth causing people’s moods to fluctuate,” Evan closed the door behind him as he walked in from a long day of teaching the children of America. It had to be a full moon, he thought, with how wild they were. “Wait are you cleaning?” 

“Evan, don’t act so surprised.” 

“Okay, why are you cleaning?” 

“Because little brother we are going to be having a guest so make yourself look presentable,” 

“I am.” Evan gestured down at his outfit from school. Teacher clothes are the best kind of dress clothes. 

“No, change into something else. You look like a teacher.” 

“Well because I am,” Evan pouted. 

“Please for one night look like a guy that doesn’t.” 

Evan shrugged his shoulders walking into his room to find something to wear. The only thing he could find was a white striped button-up that he didn’t even know he owned. He picked up and a flash of a scene hit him. 

“Are you hurt?” echo in his mind. Evan looked up to see blood all over him with him in that shirt. His hands shook with fear. He brought a hand to his face feeling nothing. He blinked to find his reflection go back to normal. Evan tried to shake off the uneasiness as he heard his brother call for him in the kitchen. 

Step into the kitchen to find a man about six foot with broad shoulders. Wearing a black button-up and black jeans with pointed boots. The man turned around and gave him a shocked look. 

“Mr. Buckley?” 

“Mr. Diaz?” 

The two men stared at each other in shock seeing each other. It was weird for them since Evan was his son’s teacher. 

“Do you know each other?” Daniel asked. 

“Yeah, I teach his son,” 

Diaz put his beer down, trying to scramble his way out of the door. “I’m so sorry this is awkward, I should go.”   

Daniel clapped him on the shoulder pulling him back before he could escape. “Nonsense, I invited you over to play poker and that’s what we are going to do besides Eddie, Evan is a terrible player.” 

Eddie

Evan was feeling deja vu and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why this stranger seemed so familiar to him. Did he feel it too? Evan had to know. 

Eddie laughed, shrugging his shoulders and sitting down. Evan followed suit sitting next to him like it was natural. The game went as planned and Evan lost several games. Throughout the game, their shoulders hit against each other and the jokes flowed between the two. They were having such a good time they didn’t even notice Daniel had left. 

“Do you feel deja vu?” Evan finally asked. 

“Yes, but I don’t believe in that stuff,” 

“Like, it feels like we have met before right,” 

Eddie nodded. The wave of realizing he wasn’t crazy made him feel like it was hard to breathe. Evan grabbed his chest trying to suck in air but none was coming in. Panic rose in his chest as he tried to reach out to Eddie for help. 

“Buck!” 

—-------------------------

Twenty-four hours had passed and the only sleep Eddie had was the few minutes he dozed off in the bathroom trying to change his clothes that Carla brought him. He continued to pace as visitors came and went. Each member of the 118 begged him to go home and get some rest. Eddie knew he wouldn’t rest until Buck woke up. He had to wake up. 

Eddie stood in the doorway for the first time taking in the image of Buck. He thought he would never have to see the love of his life ever lay in that bed with a tube in their throat. Life had a funny way of mocking you. 

As Eddie watched Buck sleep the machines started to beep. Buck’s chest jerked as he was struggling to try to take a breath. 

“Help, he’s not breathing,” Eddie yelled. The stinging behind his eyes betrayed him as tears spilled watching the nurses try to get him stable. 

Eddie sank against the wall cuffing his hands in his head. The words he wanted, needed to say burned as they were trapped. He needed him to be okay, not just for him but for Christopher. 

—----------------

One second he couldn’t breathe, the next the air in his lungs restabilized. He was okay. How was he suddenly okay? Evan stood up to find Eddie in utter panic. His hands froze in midair on his way to save him. 

“Did you call me Buck?” 

Eddie frowned his eyebrows giving him a side-eye. “Dude, you almost died and you are questioning me if I called you Buck.” 

Evan shrugged his shoulders agreeing. 

“What the fuck? No, I didn’t call you Buck. How are you all of the sudden okay? We need to get you to the hospital. I think you’re having a heart attack.” Eddie’s voice went into a slight panic mode. 

Evan waved him off. “No seriously, I am okay. Like no pain or anything.” 

Eddie continued to stare at him with a what the fuck look but Evan just laughed. 

“Will you at least allow me to check you out for my peace of mind as I am a trained paramedic? My stuff is just in my truck.” 

Evan nodded seeing why not so, he could prove he was okay. 

—------------------

Eddie held Buck’s hand while he listened to his steady heartbeat again. Five minutes it took to bring Buck back to stabled. It took five minutes for Eddie’s heart to come back to him. Five minutes was all it took for Eddie’s life to end and the future he never wanted to see again begin.

“Buck, you scared me.”

—--------------------

“Evan, you scared me.” 

—-------------------------

“I thought I had lost you and I couldn’t do anything about it. I still could.” Eddie cried. The dam broke. Eddie laid his head against Buck’s arm allowing the emotions he was so afraid to fear for years. He loved Buck. Buck was the one smiling in the face of death even though Eddie hated it. Buck was the one with the heart of gold willing to do anything for anyone. Eddie just wished that Buck would know that everyone else would do the same for him.  

“Eddie?” 

Eddie shot up wiping the tears from his eyes to see Bobby standing at the door.  He leaned against the door with his rosary beads in hand. 

“Go home,” Bobby said. 

“I wish everyone would stop saying that,” 

“We will when you do,” 

“I can’t go home when my home is here.” 

Bobby nodded understanding probably better than anyone here. He walked over sitting next to Eddie. Both men said nothing as their eyes stared at the man they both loved in a different ways. 

—------------------------------  

“I scared you,” Evan laughed. 

Eddie gave him a smirk removing the blood pressure cuff from his arm. 

“Yeah, kinda, you were not breathing and I for a second,” Eddie didn’t finish.

Evan stared at him. Evan’s whole life felt like a ghost in his own world. No one ever saw him as who he was. Chasing that person to love him. The second Eddie appeared in his life, Evan felt that longing disappeared. 

“Your heart is beating fine. Evan, you have a clean bill of health.” 

“I told you I was fine.” 

“I’m really happy you are,” 

Buck leaned forward staring into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie leaned with him. Their faces were only inches apart. 

“Relationships are stupid. The girl I was dating just dumped me because she couldn’t deal with my lifestyle,” Daniel yelled barging into Evan’s and Eddie’s moment. 

Evan and Eddie pulled back glancing back and forth from each other. 

“So, who’s ready for the next round?” 

—------------------------------------------

A father’s love transcends time and blood. Being a father meant loving a child with all that you could give. Your child was an extension of you. Like having your heart walking on the outside of your body so you would be careful who you allowed to have it. Eddie didn’t think twice when he gave his to Buck. As he rounded the corner to find his son sitting in the hospital he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Chris,” Eddie said sternly, squatting down to meet his son’s eyes, “does Carla know you are here?” 

“Yes, dad, she’s at the vending machine.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I need to see Buck,” 

“You know kids can’t be in the ICU,” Eddie grimaced. He hated that his son knew that. 

“I don’t care. I want to see Buck,” Chris demanded. 

Eddie sucked in a breath pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew he wasn’t going to win this battle. Eddie looked around to see if anyone was coming. He led Christopher into the room. Christopher went right over unscared. Once again he hated that his son had been in this position before. He was the bravest person Eddie had ever met. Braver than Eddie could have been.

—--------------------------------

“Okay, my friends, single file line and quiet. Everything will be fine.” Evan directed his class outside after the fire alarm went off unexpectedly. “Now stand on the sidewalk while we wait for the firefighters to come to give us the all-clear.” 

“It’s going to be my dad,” Chris chimed in. 

Evan smiled nodding seeing the 118 engine pulling up. The company Eddie worked for. Eddie jumped out of the truck running over to Evan with fear in his eyes. 

“Is Christopher okay?” 

Buck laughed pointing to Chris telling his classmates all about fire safety. “I think future firefighter over there is doing just fine.” 

“Clearly he is. I couldn’t imagine anything bad happening to him. After losing his mother, I've become more protective than I already was.” 

“He lost his mom?” 

“Yeah, but it’s funny. Ever since Christopher has been in your classroom, he has been happier. He has finally come to be himself again. I just wanted to thank you for that.” 

Evan never realized that. He had changed this one kid’s life but in reality, this kid changed his. Evan was about to quit teaching after having a tough year but the second Christopher walked into his classroom, he knew everything was going to be okay. 

Everything was going to be okay kid. 

“Dad is the school on fire,” Chris asked.

“No buddy. Your school is all clear,” Eddie bent down scooping his son into a hug. 

“Diaz, time to go,” 

“Text me when you get off. We can play some pool.” Evan called as Eddie jogged away. 

“It’s a deal.”

—---------------------------

 Christopher laid a hand on Buck’s arm. Eddie tried to answer all of the questions his curious son had. Some were easier others made him want to break down. He had to be strong for his son. 

“Buck, it’s Chris. If you can hear me. I just wanted to say I love you and I know you can come back where ever you are. You have to come back because dad and I will miss you a lot. Dad most of.”

Tears ran down Eddie’s cheek as the words his son said that sounded like they were from an older person. 

“Buck, please wake up,”  

—-------

Firefighter Eddie Diaz was shot and killed today while on duty. Sources say there is a sniper targeting firefighters. They are still at large. Public please be advised. If you see something please say something. 

Omg Christopher, Evan thought. He fell to his knees in his classroom dropping his phone on the ground. Chris was so young and lost both of his parents. Then there was Eddie. Eddie was special and different. Evan might have not known him for long but it felt like a lifetime. 

"Mr.Buckley, are you okay?" 

Evan looked up to see Christopher standing over him. He stood up but still bent to meet Chris's eyes. He was the one that had to tell this kid. 

"Christopher, your dad loves you so much. More than you will ever know." 

Chris shook his head understanding 

"Chris, a bad man shot your dad. This means your dad isn't coming to pick you up. He died saving people." 

Tears streamed down Chris's cheeks. Evan wrapped his arms around his student pulling him into a tight hug. An ache in his chest swelled leading to tears falling from his own eyes. 

"It's okay," Chris said. Evan pulled him back looking at him in shock. "Dad said if anything would happen to him I would live with you Buck." 

Buck. Evan took a step back from that name. No one had ever called him that but at that moment he felt like it was right. 

In a blink of an eye, the world fell away and turned black as the cries for Buck echoed around him. 

"Buck, please wake up."

—-----------

Buck gasped awake to find himself in a hospital bed with Chris and Eddie crying. Buck reached out a hand laying it on Chris’s shoulder. 

“Hi, bud.” Buck croaked out. 

“Buck!” Chris cried. 

Eddie looked up wrapping his arms around him tight. Buck grimaced underneath the embrace from still being sore. Eddie pulled away, apologizing. 

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you more?” 

Buck shook his head no. “I had the craziest dream.” 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it once you get better,” 

Buck smiled, letting out a small laugh. He held out an arm gesturing for Chris to hug him. Buck held on tight not wanting to let go. “I love you both so much,” 

“We love you. I love you. Now never scare me like that again. For a second I lot I had lost the love of my life.” 

“Trust me I know that feeling. I promise to never scare you again. Since I never want to almost leave my family again.”

#911 fox #Buddie #ash's blurbs

[starlightrows]

8 — Frozen

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Medical fears and anxieties (associated with eyes and prosthesis), frostbite (non graphic), leering, majorly creepy vibes

Summary: Now recovered for his injuries and once again cleared for duty, it’s back into the thick of it, rescuing an Admiral from a planet who’s temperature has never been warmer than negative 10

Despite being told that the 104th would be moving onto General Plo’s battlecruiser immediately, the launch date has been pushed back several weeks for reasons the higher ups refuse to share with you. Not that you mind, this base has become home for you and the Wolf Pack, if truth be told you’re a little sad to be leaving it. This is where the team painted their armor together, where you’ve trained with them and treated their wounds. On this base you and Wolffe’s quarters are just steps away from each other. You have no idea what things will look like for the team when you move aboard the ship.

On the bright side Wolffe has made a remarkable recovery. He complains about it, but still does all of his physical therapy exercises each day. The prosthetic eye seems to have integrated so seamlessly that he really can’t tell the difference. The pain has subsided significantly and his scar has healed enough to have full range of motion of his head, neck and jaw with no irritation.

“You are cleared to be back on active duty sir.” You smile brightly, signing off the last form to officially discharge him from physical therapy.

“Good, I’m ready to get out of this office. Need some fresh air” he huffs “If they ever let us off this base again.”

“They will. The ship will be ready soon and then we’ll be back to missions. You’ll be missing all this down time when we’re setting up tents in a mud hole somewhere.” you chuckle.

He makes a cringing groan “Nothing worse than sleeping with mud in your boots.”

“I don’t know, I’ll take a nap in a mud puddle before going back to another dust ball planet and getting sunburned.”

“Yeah alright” he laughs “I’d take mud in my tent over a sunburn too”

“Besides, we won’t be out on mission forever. I’m sure the ship will be great, and we’re bound to get approved for our shore leave eventually”

“Doc, we submitted that shore leave request months ago. If we hear back before the war ends I’ll be impressed”

Days of waiting for the go ahead to make the final transfer turn into weeks of spending endless hours completing no real work and wasting an inordinate amount of time. The team has taken it upon themselves to use this time wisely. Slush has been giving Jag piloting lessons every day. Cinder has been tinkering in the engineering labs to increase the effectiveness of some of his heavy artillery weapons. Cricket has been obsessed with trying to make musical instruments out of whatever he can find around the base, tapping on empty fuel barrels, plucking at strings to see what kind of sound it makes, flicking the rim of water glasses with varying amounts of water in them. Comet, Sinker and Boost have been competing with each other the last few weeks. Who can run the fastest mile? Who can do the most press ups? Who can hold a handstand the longest? Now they’re building obstacle courses in the training room and distracting other battalions stationed on the base.

“But Doc, we fall from heights bigger than this all the time” Boost attempts to convince you “And we aren’t falling, we’re jumping into a barrel roll”

“Boost please don’t make me use my Captain voice” you warn him

“Too late, you’re already doing it” Comet calls out from behind him “Come on, you used to be fun!”

“I’m serious, you guys. I know you’re bored, we’re all bored. But boredom is not a good reason to jump off the rafters” you scold them

Just then all of your coms beep at the same time. You answer the call as the others gather around to see the message clearly intended for all of them.

“Assemble the battalion and prepare to leave” Wolffe’s hologram appears in miniature on your com device “Captain, join me on the bridge for the full briefing.”

“Yes sir” you nod before shutting off the com device “You heard him, get the lads and be ready to leave”

“Yes sir” They address you respectfully and run off to get the others and the ship ready for departure.

You head off in the other direction towards the command center. On the way you run into Wolffe heading up there as well.

“Anything?” You ask falling in step beside him

“No idea” he says shortly as you both reach the door to the Command center. Inside General Plo is waiting for you.

“Greetings” he welcomes you both. General Plo projects a holo image of a man wearing republic command dress uniforms for all to see, “This is Admiral Sarkany. He is the Admiral that will be commanding the fleet our new ship will be leading. His shuttle got shot down on the planet Belsavis, we have received a distress signal and located the remnants of his ship, we believe at this time that he is still alive. Your mission is to find Admiral Sarkany and the data pad that was on his person at the time of the crash”

“Any extraneous risk factors sir” you ask

“Belsavis is a frigid planet, typical temperatures this time of their planetary rotation are well into the negatives” Master Plo explains “Take the winter gear and extra layers”

“Does Belsavis have a known population?” Wolffe asks

“No, current reports from the planet indicate there are not enough resources on that planet to sustain intelligent life. Therefore, there is no expectation for this to be a combat mission” General Plo says “But nevertheless, watch each other’s backs, and prepare yourselves for whatever circumstances may arise”

It sounds like your biggest enemy on this mission will be exposure to the elements. You only hope that your heavy winter gear to protect you from the cold, will still allow you to move to perform well in combat and in doing your job as medic should it be necessary.

“If there are no further questions, finalize all gear and get moving, time is of the essence” General Plo ends the meeting. You and Wolffe leave the command center and join the rest of the Pack. You relay the mission information and instruct them to get moving to put their cold weather gear on. You go with them, putting on your layers too. But you notice something.

While they all have standard issue, military grade thermal layering. Your winter gear seems far less insulating and durable. The material is noticeably thinner and made of cheaper material.

Slush glances over at you. “You alright there doc?”

“I’m gonna freeze my ass off this this stuff” you reply, frustrated with the situation “I know there aren’t a lot of civilian soldiers, but you’d think they might outfit us a little more appropriately”

“Don’t worry doc” Sinker pats your shoulder “Like the General says, this is a quick pick up mission, we’ll be off that frozen rock before your caf stops steaming”

You shake your head with a half hearted laugh, and get the, thankfully, slightly better quality insulated boots laced up. Your gear bag is packed, you’re bundled up as much as you can given what is available to you, and lined up to get on the shuttle with the men.

You stand close to Wolffe in the shuttle. He’s nervous, and you can tell. You turn your head up a bit to look at him, hoping he catches your gaze beneath his helmet. You raise your eyebrows at him in silent question.

You good?

He gives a single nod and turns his helmet away from you. You choose to take it as, I’ll be fine.

You leave it at that for now, you’ll check back in with him after the mission is complete, and keep an eye on him until then.

In truth, he is a bit worried. His physical therapy is complete but this will be the first true test in the field with the new eye. He isn’t concerned about his ability to use the eye, he’s more worried about how the eye will fair with foul weather.

Wolffe has never enjoyed deeply cold places like where you’re heading now. He’d rather sweat his ass off and hide from the sun on Jakku or Tatooine or wade through a jungle swamp on Onderon than trudge through ice and howling wind while his balls freeze solid and his fingers lose feeling. What I wouldn’t give for a mud puddle he thinks

Ever since the moment General Plo said the phrase “frigid planet” he’s been trying to push away thoughts of the liquid that allows his eye to move freely in the socket freezing over. Or the mechanical pieces of his cybernetics failing in the cold, leaving him blind and helpless.

He makes a mental effort to think of more constructive things. Like finding this Admiral, getting off this frozen rock as soon as possible, and making sure you don’t freeze and die. He heard you mention the lackluster quality of your military issued thermal gear, and even he can tell by looking at it, it won’t keep you warm after the sun sets…. So finding shelter and making a fire is likely going to be a priority.

As the shuttle descends down towards the surface of the planet all of you can already feel the chill creeping in. It forces you all to stand closer together, mostly to get away from the durasteel walls.

You can hear the icy cold wind whipping around the ship as it makes its final descent and lands on the crunchy snow. The doors stall to open, already struggling against the thick layer of frost. After a moment of somewhat u settling creaking and mechanical whirring, the doors slide open, blasting you and the rest of the battalion with the subzero temperature air. Even with your layers, it rips through you and steals any hope for warmth you had.

I’m fucked

“Come on then men” Wolffe barks, stepping off the shuttle holding a data pad that’s acting as the receiver for the distress signal “The sooner we find the Admiral, the sooner we get to thaw out”

The men grumble in acknowledgement to their commanders orders and follow him out into the wind. Where you quickly realize that if you don’t move strategically, you’ll all get separated and die wandering aimlessly in the tundra.

“Commander!” You shout over the wind

“What is it Captain?” he calls back

“We need to form rank sir. We’ll never make it, if we don’t stay together” you’re not sure if he can hear you over the wind.

“Give the orders Captain” he yells, turning back to the data pad

You instruct the men to stand, two by two, and never let the man in front of you get farther away from you than the distance between the butt and the barrel of a blaster rifle. It seems to work, you move faster as a group and in a more direct path. Plus knowing you’ve got someone at your back is a comfort when you’ve got limited visibility around you.

With every step you take your numb feet burn. You have to remind yourself that if you stop moving, not only will you get separated from the group but you will surely freeze up and die. And you’re almost entirely sure that the men around you are just as miserable, even if their winter gear is better quality than yours.

“I can see the wreckage” Wolffe hollers into the wind “We’re almost there”

There isn’t much of the wreckage left. The charred hull isn’t smoking anymore, but gods above you wish it was so you could warm yourself over it. Even if it is a little morbid. You and the rest of the men search the wreckage, but can’t find the transmitter that’s emitting the distress beacon. You also have no luck finding the data pad, or any sign of the Admiral living or dead.

“Sinker. Boost. Scavenge anything you can from the ship. Anything we might be able to burn if we need to” Wolffe orders “Slush, you and Jag start trying to contact General Plo if you can get a signal. Captain, we need to determine our next move”

“Yes sir” the men respond, breaking off into pairs to complete their tasks. You step closer to Wolffe and look down at the data pad, trying and failing not to shiver.

“Captain, given the circumstances, what is the likelihood that this Admiral is still alive?” he asks you

You study the data pad, and the topographical map of the environment. You look up and around at this truly nightmarish planet. You shrug your shoulders with some difficulty. “Given how long it took us to walk this far, and how prepared we were for the climate I would say that poor bastard stands a very poor chance” you tell him. But then you look again at the map and the receiver “Unless…”

“Unless what Captain?” he asks

“Unless he found shelter” you point at the map “That has to be that mountain range, right? Even though it’s higher in elevation and more exposed to the wind. There is a chance the Admiral chose to go that way in hopes of finding a cave. Maybe he succeeded?”

“It’s a possibility” Wolffe agrees “Regardless, we are going to need to find shelter soon. If we’re half frozen to death now, we won’t live to see the morning when that sun goes down”

“Terribly blunt, but yes, even if we had better thermal gear there’s no way we would survive if we stopped moving to keep our heart rates up. We need shelter and we all need to eat something”

“Alright, round up the men, we head for the mountain” he says

Before you step away you check in “How’s the eye commander?”

“Fucking cold” he laughs in a gruff chuckle “But not as bad as I was afraid of”

“Good” you can’t help but smile under your face wrap keeping you from being wind burned. You nod your head, and turn away to go collect the boys and get them ready to move. Wolffe catches your arm.

“Captain” he calls out “You need to tell me if you or anyone else truly starts getting hypothermic. I won’t let a member of our squadron freeze to death for an Admiral that’s probably already dead”

“Yes sir” you acknowledge him. But you sense his deeper meaning. I won’t let you die.

With the men rounded up and a good amount of materials that could be used as fuel in a fire collected, the group set off towards the mountain. Trudging through the ice and keeping your heads down to stay out of the wind. It’s getting darker by the hour, and colder by the second. The terrain is changing. Going from barren and exposed ground covered in a thick layer of snow and ice, to now rocky and slippery ground.

“Head lamps on!” Wolffe shouts from the front of the line. Even though the sun hasn’t set yet, it’s better to have the extra light now so you can all watch your footsteps and make sure each foot fall is placed carefully to prevent slipping on ice rocks or plunging your feet into deep dark holes.

Your hands are numb. Your feet are numb. Your face is numb. Your body feels heavy and clumsy. You realize that you are both exhausted and freezing. This is probably a good time to start letting someone know there might be a problem, like Wolffe mentioned, but you sort of can’t get your mind to take that option seriously. Instead you are laser focused on trying to put one foot in front of the other.

Hand goes here. Foot goes there. Step up… fuck… step up… you’re struggling. Struggling to get your limbs to move with the usual ease and strength they normally have when you tell them to. Luckily Comet, who’s directly behind you, gives you a hand and gets you up and over the large boulder you’re struggling with. You don’t miss how much his own hands and arms are shaking.

“Commander!” he shouts far ahead of where the two of you stalled

Wolffe turns back and looks down to where you and Comet stand, shaking. You’re not the only ones. All of the men are freezing. He himself is shaking, and noticing himself starting to make mistakes as well. For a moment he is scared. What has he done? Taking this risk trying to climb up into the mountains to find this stupid admiral.

No. He tells himself. This is the best chance of finding shelter.

He looks around. Surveying the area. There has to be something. Anything. Then he sees something he did not expect. There’s a light. He wonders if he’s imagining it. Or if it’s just reflecting their own head lamps.

“Lights off!” He barks

“Commander?” Comet yells back, horrified by their leader's instruction to relinquish the only means of seeing what they’re doing and where they’re going.

“Now!” Wolffe yells. After a brief moment, the lights around you begin to shut off. Comet reaches forward and shuts off your head lamp. Now the only thing you can see is his helmet. You shake your head no. No. No please. Don’t turn off the light. He reaches up and shuts his light off too.

It is a kind of terror you have never felt anything like in your life. Pure darkness. The haunting sound of violent wind whipping around you, and drowning out your own voice as you speak. You can still feel Comet’s hand gripping your elbow… you think, you can’t really feel much of anything. But you tell yourself that pressure there is his hand. You turn your head and curse Wolffe for giving this order. He better have a good fucking reason for–

“I see light!” You scream. You hear the others calling out to each other about it too. There is a faint light, coming from higher up the mountain. A cave you think. Fire. It has to be fire light. Suddenly there’s too much light in your face as Comet turns his head lamp back on and yours as well. The headlights of the others flicker on and all of your start beelining for that cave.

Wolffe leads the pack, deciding that if there is someone else in that cave they’re either gonna share that fire or he’ll make them fucking share. With this renewed spirit and dive propelling him forward, he climbs over rocks and boulders and claws his way up to the mouth of the cave.

Inside he sees… a man… sleeping against the wall of the cave with a small, dwindling fire in front of him. Wolffe growls as he hauls himself up and reaches back to help up the men coming behind him. As quickly as they get up into the cave, they start tending to the fire to get it back going with the supplies they carried from the wreckage, paying absolutely no mind to the sleeping man.

Wolffe hauls you up into the cave where you just collapse against the wall, breathing hard and sweating. That is bad. Sweating when it’s cold is bad. You turn your head towards the fire that’s now burning brighter, and bask in the warmth of it radiating towards you. Wolffe cradles your cheek in his frozen hand, and turns your face to look at him.

“Look at me” he growls “Don’t you quit on me doc”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily commander” You laugh tiredly. He’s concerned though, you’re not really shivering anymore and your teeth aren’t chattering. That means your body isn’t even trying to produce heat, it’s trying to keep your vital organs warm.

“Come on” he gets you to crawl towards the fire, where the others have roused the sleeping man.

“Admiral Sarkany?” Wolffe addresses the man

“My rescuers I assume” the man replies

Even in your chilled to the bone and exhausted state, his tone of voice pulls you up short. Arrogant. Entitled. Rude.

“Yes sir” Wolffe responds “We’re here to extract you and the data pad that was on your ship”

“Took you long enough” the admiral huffs “been freezing my bollocks off up here for two full days. That’s unacceptable commander”

“Apologies sir” Wolffe grits out. He’s one of those.

“So, are we going to sit here all night? Where’s your ship?” He asks

Ugh your head is pounding. You know good and well you’re not going anywhere tonight, and this jerk is probably not going to stop talking.

“We’re a little over 28 kilometers away from our ship, it’s too dark and too cold out there to try to make it back tonight sir. My men need to rest and warm up before we go back out there” Wolffe watches the Admirals already irritated and ungrateful face twist into a glare “We will leave for the ship when the sun rises”

“Unbelievable” the Admiral gruffs “I expected a hasty extraction from this hell hole, not a slumber party in the wilderness with a bunch of clones”

The cave falls silent, save for the crackling of the fire. All eyes glare at the Admiral. Wolffe is beginning to lose his patience with this situation. The Admiral can bitch and moan all he wants, he won’t make a careless decision that would surely result in casualties.

“As I said sir, we will leave at dawn. Get some rest you will need your strength” he tries to keep the nasty edge in his voice from making his true wishes to toss this ungrateful son of bitch out of the cave to fend for himself with no fire or shelter, known.

The Admiral gumbles something terrible and biggoted under his breath and wraps his many insulating layers around him. Wolffe finally sits down with you and the rest of the squad, situated away from the Admiral. Freezing or not you’d rather run back out in the snow storm in your chonies than huddle together with that piece of shit for warmth.

“How are you faring doc?” Cricket asks you

“Better now that we have shelter” You reply “Can’t wait for the heatlessness of space, that sounds like a hot bubble bath compared to this”

The boys chuckle at your joke. Now that you’ve warmed up enough you pull back the face wrap that had been protecting you from the wind, and use it to further insulate your hands that still can’t seem to warm up.

You continue idly chatting with the squadron. Nowhere near your normal level campfire banter though. It’s no fun when there’s not only an outsider to the group, but a miserable old fuck that actively seems to hate you despite your best efforts.

This Admiral is majorly creepy. Bone thin and bald, chunky glasses that make his unusually blue eyes all the more piercing and uncomfortable to look at. He’s staring at you. He hasn’t taken his freaky eyes off of you since you pulled off your face covering. There’s a good chance he had no idea you were not a clone until that moment. Figures since he’s probably the type that doesn’t actually look at them anyway. One good look at you would have gotten that message across pretty quickly, even bundled up from the cold, you are not built like the clones at all.

You try not to look at him. But he won’t stop staring. The only bit of your skin he can see right now is your face, and even that’s partially obstructed by your hat and thick hood. But he’s looking at you like you’re posed nude for a boudoir photoshoot. You make sure to nuzzle yourself in close between Wolffe and Slush. You trust your squad with your life. Including protecting you from this creep.

It is a long ass night. Eventually the things the men had been able to salvage from the ship to burn ran out, and the fire died down. Some of the men are able to get some sleep, you can tell by their even and quiet breaths. But others, like you, are just too cold and in too much pain from being numb to get any kind of sleep.

Wolffe is tense beside you. He isn’t sleeping at all. He’s watching the Admiral. Who in turn, is still watching you. With his cold, dead looking eyes. You want to get off this planet. You want to get out of this cave. It takes a lot of mental effort to keep yourself from going into a panic. You wonder if any of the others are starting to feel trapped. Or like their toes are falling off.

Eventually the sun breeches the horizon, any men who manage to get some sleep are roused and you all help each other down the side of this mountain and back into formation to keep the group together. You feel warmer and slightly less miserable heading back towards the shuttle. You know you’re walking towards heated spaces, dry clothes, a hot meal, and a maker forsaken fresher.

The Admiral, to his credit, does not complain or gripe the entire trek back towards the shuttle. But of course, the second you get there, he has an opinion to give and energy to give it.

This shuttle doesn’t look well maintained. You should have flown closer to the signal and just picked me up at the base of the mountain. There were provisions on the shuttle, and you didn’t think to bring them. On and on and on.

You choose to just tune him out. Normally you’re pretty good and keeping a straight face and just letting higher ups like this say what they want to, it’s not worth losing your place with the squad. But not today. You don’t pay this tool an ounce of mind, as you busy yourself helping to get the shuttle prepared to leave and the men seen to. A few of them are dehydrated and are starting to show early signs of frostbite on their fingers and toes. You do your best to treat them with what you have in your gear bag.

“Hey” Wolffe pulls you aside

“Commander?” you keep your voice down

“Go up to the cockpit and check yourself for frostbite too. And then stay up there, I don’t want this sack of shit anywhere near you” he says lowly

You catch his eye. He must be genuinely concerned if he’s breaking protocol like this. “Yes sir”

You head up to the cockpit and sit in the copilot's seat next to Slush.

“Doin’ okay there Doc?” he asks, glancing over to see you shedding layers

“Yeah, just need to check my toes for frostbite and get away from that sleemo” you tell him pulling off one of your boots

“I couldn’t close my eyes last night with him staring at you like that” he admits “We’ve met some creepers out there, but this guy is just… something else!” he gives a shiver and makes a sound of disgust.

“Yeah you’re telling me. Let’s get out of here and dump this guy with someone else” you laugh, inspecting your poor frozen toes for any signs of true damage.

“You got it Captain” Slush chuckles, setting the ship for a take off sequence.

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[beloved-31-proverbs-women]

THE TABLES ARE TURNING

Ever felt like the tide is against you? That it seems like every part of your life is under siege, under fire, and in state of contention when you are trying to move forward? Does it feel like every door that should be opening is delayed as if there are a thousand men holding every way shut? Does it seem like your mind and heart is the target of a million fiery arrows from the enemy trying to take you down?

In the last few days I’ve felt such a burden of the Lord to pray over those at this specific place so I want to bring encouragement today to those facing opposition in the transition. So If this word resonates with you and one or more of these areas grips your heart please take it and let the power of the Holy Spirit bring you breakthrough as you read it.

THIS DOESN’T LOOK LIKE INCREASE?!

I woke up early a few mornings ago with a pull of intercession for many who are looking at giant sized obstacles and discouraging outcomes and results in a season that has been prophesied to be marked with birthing and crossing over into promise.

“God this doesn’t look like the increase you promised?” many are saying who have felt like they have been walking through months of loss and robbery in many different areas. From health, to marriages, financial, and destiny. The signs don’t seem to be pointing to what God has shown you would be taking place and for many a deep discouragement is trying to set in.

Then as I was praying I saw people holding maps in their hands and looking bewildered and confused at the landscape they were seeing, so with a big sigh of exhaustion they dropped their maps, fell to the ground and gave up. So many are wanting to give up and drop their assignment and dreams because it looks too hard or bleak. For many its just pure exhaustion, discouragement, and defeat, but to many others this is so much more. It’s been an assassination attempt.

ASSASSINATION AT THE THRESHOLD

There has been an assassination attempt on many at the threshold because of what is at stake. Many who are crossing over into that place of promise have been not just dealing with difficult circumstances surrounding them but an actual assignment sent to take them out before they access it!

In the last three days I have recognized this spirit when praying for people and they have all shared that they have had thoughts to commit suicide with one young person I prayed for who admitting to actually attempting to do so. This assassination attempt has come to surround the minds of Gods people with such a deep oppression and hopelessness that they long to give up. The good news is that Jesus came to set us free from ALL kinds of bondage and He wants to break that spiritual assignment off you right now if you have felt it trying to come on you.

I command that spirit of death and suicide be broken off your life right now. You have the mind of Christ and every lying demon GO right now in Jesus name!

DECOMMISSIONING HEAVINESS

I had a very vivid dream a few nights ago where I was praying for a lady who had back and shoulder pain/tension. In the dream I was walking past her and had the word of knowledge and she says "yes thats right, how did you know?" As soon as i began praying it manifested as something more than just physical as the sweet presence of Jesus came and she cried out with this deep wail "I've been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders!" and she got instantly set free, body, mind, and spirit.

I want to pray for those of you reading this who have been through months of being burdened by the spirit of heaviness, foreboding fear, worry, troubles, and mental torment. I command that spirits assignment broken off your life right now in Jesus name and every physical affliction attached to it also be broken in Jesus name.

Backs, shoulders, and necks i speak SHALOM over you. All pain leave, tension leave, and come back into alignment in Jesus name! I speak PEACE over minds that have been under the barrage of torment and causing sleeplessness, fatigue, and hopelessness. No more will your homes atmosphere be heavy, your family, or your marriage/relationships. Jesus you are our healer and we thankyou for the anointing that breaks the yoke and sets people in bondage free.

"To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.”

- Isaiah 61:3

RECEIVE YOUR MANTLE!

I heard the Lord say that instead of heaviness, instead of the heavy yoke, this is the time to receive your new mantle! Just as David was commissioned by Samuel to be king and given the anointing and mantle to walk in that function, God is mantling you for this new season and DISMANTLING every heavy weight and burden of the past season.

Heaven is rejoicing. Angels are dancing and shouting in anticipation as you step into the new growth and promotion. You are being redefined and reassigned. The old armour and and unction simply won’t carry you any further. For months now the Lord has told me they are “mantles for reigning” because God is not only commissioning many with a double portion but He wants us to move into a governmental authority that causes us as the body of Christ to reign instead of being ruled. Reigning then releases inheritance and that is what the enemy is so afraid of you accessing which is why the war has been so great.

THIS IS WHERE THE TIDE TURNS

“The very moment I call to you for a father’s help the tide of battle turns and my enemies flee. This one thing I know: God is on my side!” - Psalm 56:9

As I was praying into this week i kept seeing a vision of tables being over-turned much like Jesus did in the temple when they were using Gods house incorrectly. The word “overturned” kept rising up my spirit and the lord began to speak to me that He was OVERTURNING every assignment of the enemy that had been waging war on you and TURNING THE TIDE!

He hasn’t turned a blind eye to you in fact He is rising up a holy anger and justice to see that what has been coming against you not only stop but it will FLIP and become something that works FOR YOU! This is where God fights fiercely for you and reverses the flow of calamity and opposition. Every weapon forged against you, that came at you, that tried to take you out, burden you, and enslave you as you stepping into new depths of destiny CANNOT and WILL NOT prosper (Isaiah 54:17 paraphrased) and I prophesy this will be will the week you get new STRENGTH, new JOY, and begin to shake the earth with the sound of your new mantle hitting the water in Jesus name!

PRACTICAL KEYS

- FEAST on the word of God and allow Holy Spirit to give you new Rhema(living) words for current situation. As you do it will begin to override the verdict and diagnosis of the enemy that has been screaming at you.

- FAST and consecrate yourself to the Lord. Obviously this is only if God is asking you to but fasting not only connects you to Gods heart and what He is doing in your life but it is a catalyst to see breakthrough.

- SPEAK prophesy, worship, thank, and magnify Jesus in your storm. There is something so powerful about strengthening yourself in the knowledge of who God is and giving him praise that breaks obstacles.

- SOW where God leads you to. Whether in finances, blessing people with help, prayer, and encouragement. The enemy wants you so focussed on your own world but as we begin to look for opportunity to bless others things begin to shift!

- ACTIVATE your mantle by finding a problem to point it at. Don’t lay down and accept defeat but get fierce, authoritative, and watch as things that have been out of alignment come back into place

[winterfliee]

i think im broken…

i’ve been trying to get sleep paralysis for like a week and i was so confident i’d get it first or second try but what happens is i lie with my body feeling heavy and a rly long time and then nothing else happens, i barely get uncomfortable twitching or itches which is supposed to be a sign, like i js lie there waiting and waiting and nothing happens

what i’ve been doing is wbtb, i wake 5 hours after i fall asleep, read a book for 30mins and then lie down and stay very still and js affirm, count and let my mind do whatver and i sometimes get slight symptoms or js feel super heavy but i can always move? i wait and wait for paralysis and it’s js not happening?

im so frustrated i wanted to shift/get to the void by the 27 of july and idk what to do anymore, i thought SP was a natural thing our body did and the method looked so easy i didn’t think it’d take much like affirming, persisting in the new story and living in the end, but i’m so confused, i was so confident and determined that i was doing everything right but why can’t i get passed that point? pls help me i hate to affirm this story but i didn’t even think i would need to apply loa to this bc supposedly our bodies will inevitably fall asleep and become paralysed if we stay still for long enough so i don’t understand what’s going on, ik circumstances don’t matter but i hate my life rn and i rly need help

sorry to ramble like this, i hope you have a wonderful day love <3

Hey love, first of all no you're not broken simply because a method isn't working for you!!

And getting symptoms is not necessary you can get sp even without feeling any symptoms, i didn't use to get any symptoms in the beginning either, no feeling of floating, feeling itchy or having the urge to move but i just ignored it, we don't need symptoms to know we're in sp. For wbtb I'd suggest to try different time like you've done 5 hours after sleeping make it 3 or 3.5 hrs, search more about sleep cycles and for how long they last and then you'll know more about what time would be suitable for you. And i think you are mainly focusing on feeling any sort of symptoms rather than that focus on the thing you are doing like suppose you are affirming or counting just focus on that don't think about if my body is itchy or do i feel like I'm floating, completely let go and forget about the 3d and your surroundings, imagine yourself in an all white or all Black room it helped me a lot.

Don't feel discouraged and don't let it affect your confidence remember WE ARE GODS we can do anything we want in an instant. Decide it that you enter sp in just a few minutes, use subliminals, use guided meditations they help with focusing on your Affirmations and letting go of the 3d.

And finally if you are okay with involving loa into this then just affirm for few days that "i get into sp everytime i fall asleep" or "i get into sp in just 2 minutes" affirm anything that makes it easier for you to enter sp. Maybe try doing some manifestation challenges like the 3DOLC+ROE challenge where you just focus on one or more desires for 3 days or try the 48HC where you focus on something for 48Hrs. You don't need challenges or subs or anything else to enter sp but these things help in gaining back your confidence and just overall helps in not being discouraged.

And one last thing YOU DON'T NEED VOID TO SHIFT OR MANIFEST, maybe try doing the ROE+3DOLC or 48HC challenges for shifting just affirm "i can shift to any reality on command" "i can shift realities anytime i want" it's totally upto you to do these challenges or not but they help in being more confident and they help in understanding that you really don't need anything other than persistence and discipline to manifest anything you want.

I've tried to give all the suggestions i could think of and told about everything that has helped me and stuff I've actually tried, i hope this helps!

Have a great day and don't forget you are god you can do anything in an instant, love :))