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honeyedmiller · 3 months

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An Ode to Forever | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: mostly pwp, sex in a bathtub with lots of feelings, fluff, tenderness, they’re both so sickeningly in love, smut (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, joel is handsy af, some butt stuff [lol]), light alcohol consumption, sort of erotic food consumption(not really tho???), use of daddy twice in this (idk what came over me), joel doesn’t have kids in this, no use of y/n.

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: after an arduous day, joel draws a bath to help you both relax.

an ode to how much you love joel miller, and he, you.

a/n: this is a lil valentine’s day one shot i wanted to put out. slowly getting my writing juju back. this is also a follower milestone celebration. thank you to everyone who supports my work. love you all <3

divider by @saradika-graphics

It’d been a rough day.

A day where bones ached, minds were exhausted and all that was yearned for was to be home with each other.

You’d texted Joel that you were stopping off at the store to get some wine because hell, you needed to relax. He instantly texted you back to be safe and that he loves you.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

A true love like this is something you’d never in a million years think you’d ever have to yourself. Someone who cares so much. Someone you can cherish. A love that was all your own. You were so wrapped up in the bliss of Joel Miller, and he, you.

It was the kind of love that was terrifying and beautiful and gut wrenching and so fucking rare. A love that made you feel like you were floating in the clouds, euphoria pumping through your veins every time you looked at him. The kind of love that was a forever thing. Something you never, ever thought you’d have.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

The lights were off when you got home. You call out his name, hanging your keys on your designated hook before toeing off your pumps.

“Up here.” He calls back, voice cascading down the stairs. You make your way up and into the bedroom, setting your work bag down before you look around in confusion.

“Joel?” You call out, and his broad frame emerges from the bathroom.

“Hey baby.” He says. You smile softly at the sight of him, body visibly relaxing in his presence. Joel notices and the corner of his mouth twitches upward into a smile.

“Hi.” Your voice is as soft as your expression, allowing him to envelope the whole of your being into his strong, warm arms. He kisses your temple before gently taking the pinot grigio out of your hands, humming at your wine choice.

“Take your work clothes off and meet me in the bathroom.” He gives your forehead a kiss before disappearing again. You cock your eyebrow in confusion, but oblige to his request anyhow. You strip off your clothes, leaving your body clad in just your bra and underwear. The plush carpet beneath your bare feet feels heavenly after a day of wearing those pumps for work.

The cold tile of the bathroom sends a chill up your spine, but you ignore the sensation when you take in all that’s in front of you—a bubble bath with rose petals scattered atop, candles lit on the side of the tub, and a small tray of chocolate covered strawberries waiting to be devoured. Wine glasses filled with two cubes of ice each sit perfectly next to the strawberries, along with the pinot grigio.

You feel the sting of tears immediately. Your eyes move over to Joel, who’s standing with his hands behind his back and a boyish grin adorning his handsome face.

“What—what’s this?” Your voice is meek, eyes glossy and bottom lip slightly trembling.

“I know we won’t get that much time to ourselves on Valentine’s Day, so I thought we’d celebrate a little early. Y‘know, a nice way to relax after a tough day.”

“Joel, honey, this is perfect.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

You turn to face him fully. “I love it. And I love you.” You close the distance between the both of you, pulling him in for a tender kiss. He hums against your lips, enveloping your body into his arms. He slides his hands down to your ass, giving it a playful tap.

He unravels his arms from you before taking a small step back, shucking off his shirt and his pants. He looks at you as you watch him, desire for him pooling your eyes. A glint of fascination crosses his gaze as he studies you studying him.

“One more thing.” Joel says before stepping out of the bathroom. A minute later, soft tunes of Frank Sinatra wafted throughout the bedroom and into the bathroom. He comes back in with a smile on his face as he grabs your hand and twirls you before kissing you. You couldn’t help but smile against him.

He pulls down his underwear and climbs into the tub, groaning at the warm water against his achy bones.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” He nudges his head, holding his hand out to you. You smile and remove your bra and underwear, climbing into the tub with him. The warm water eased the tension that was left in your body, rolling off your shoulders and dissipating into the aroma of scented bubbles. Lavender, you think.

Joel pulls you back against his body, warm and inviting as you lean on him and close your eyes. You sit like that for a minute—still, calm, and silent. It’s what you both needed. Days like this could be more than overstimulating, and Joel knew that. You both basked in the fact that you could sit in silence in each other’s presence and be perfectly content.

You felt movement behind you, only to see Joel reaching for the wine bottle. He opens it with ease and pours the wine into the two glasses, clinking his with yours in a soft ‘cheers.’

Joel set his glass down on the edge of the tub, hands landing on your shoulders. Water sloshed gingerly with his movements. He started to dig his thumbs into the tense muscle. You couldn’t help but groan, head lolling to the side slowly.

“Feel good?” Joel chuckles close to your ear, goosebumps raising at the low vibrato of his voice.

“Mhm,” You manage.

Joel leans his mouth down to the base of your neck, leaving tender kisses in his wake. Your nails trace patterns on his thick thighs, the slow drag pulling at the need for you within him.

Your touch, your smile, your voice, your laugh, you. You drove him absolutely crazy. This man loved you more than life itself. If he could give you the whole world, he would—but for once in his life he knew he was enough.

“I love you, darlin’.” Joel’s voice is nearly a whisper. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your soft flesh repeatedly.

You crane your neck to face him and his hands drop to your arms.

“I love you more, cowboy.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Not possible.”

“Mm.” You muse, leaning in to kiss him. Those same rumbling butterflies stir in your stomach, heart strings pulling at the softness of his lips and how perfect they feel slotted with yours.

His tongue easily made its way into your mouth as you slid a hand into his slightly graying curls. You moaned into him, your other free hand gripping his thigh tighter as the neediness ignites within your body.

See, that was the thing. Joel had you wrapped around his fingers. He knew exactly what made you tick.

His hands slowly slide to your breasts, kneading them with such care before pinching both of your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. You gasp into the kiss at the sensation as it travels down like hot liquid to your core, already pulsing with aching need.

Joel’s small chuckle separates the kiss, and you lean your forehead against his cheek as he continues to toy with your pillowy flesh. Your breathing begins to stagger, mind clouded with the carnal desire for the man who’s stolen your heart.

“Joel,” You’re breathless, legs mindlessly rubbing together for any friction you can get. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” His chest rumbles with the low vibrato of his voice, goosebumps erupting on your skin once more.

“Fuck. Touch me. Please, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ love when my girl uses her manners. How do you want daddy to touch you?” His voice is a low growl, one hand easily gliding down the curves of your body before his fingertips brush over your mound. You can’t help the soft whimper that escapes you as he easily spreads your legs with his hand, running his middle finger down your slit. “Like this?”

You suck in a breath behind clenched teeth, head dropping back onto his shoulder as he starts to slowly drag his fingers over your slick sex. Even underwater, Joel could feel how aroused you are.

“Answer me, sweet girl. Tell me.”

“Y-yes. God, yes–please—fuck me with your fingers.”

You’ve come to learn how to be more vocal with Joel, always shying away from telling him what you wanted when it came to your pleasure at first. He eventually coaxed it out of you, telling you that there’s no reason to be shy around him. He’d take care of you all the same.

You knew that, but you were still grateful for the man being patient with you when words would get lodged into your throat, seemingly unwilling to be vocalized. It got easier over time, and the confidence you radiated when you and Joel initiated anything intimate was a show he’d always want a front seat to.

You moaned as he easily slipped a finger into you, disappearing down to the knuckle. It was a welcome stretch, his fingers always reaching places yours never could. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Another one, please.” You sigh, rutting your hips down to grind onto his hand. He easily complies, this time a little bit more of a tight fit. You moan at the sensation, and Joel has a crooked grin on his face as he starts to languidly pump his fingers in and out of you. He was teasing you, you think, because he wanted to hear you beg him to go faster. And, truthfully, you weren’t above doing so.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me, baby,” He starts to pick up his pace, and you subconsciously bite your lip to quiet yourself down. “Uh uh, don’t go all shy on me now, darlin’. Wanna hear you. Wanna hear how I make you feel.”

“You know—shit—you know how you make me feel, Joel,” You reason with him, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

“Good.”

That was all he said before he picked up the pace of his fingers, curling them to press against the spongy spot in you that had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling. He swiped his thumb over your clit, finding a steady rhythm with his fingers.

One of your hands had his thigh in a vice grip, likely to leave scratch marks on his tan skin while the other held onto the edge of the tub. That same liquid heat traveled throughout the course of your body, pooling at the bottom of your spine. Waiting. Wanting. Begging to be released. You grind your hips down to match his pace, just needed a bit more of a push.

The whimpers and moans that eluded you only added to Joel’s own arousal, the occasional grunt from him reverberating off of the bathroom walls. His cock was solid against your back, and you couldn’t help but think how much self control this man had.

“Can feel your pretty pussy clenchin’ my fingers, sweetheart. You gonna come on them? Hm?” His lips are at your ear now, poking his tongue out to lick your earlobe before nibbling on it.

“Yes—oh, fuckfuckfuck. Right there, Joel, please don’t stop. Pleasepleaseplease—” You’re a begging, whimpering mess before you come undone, whole body shuddering as your orgasm washes over you so intensely.

“There you go. That’s it. My girl always does so well, hm? So fuckin’ well.” Joel praises you, slowly sliding his fingers out of you before running them over your slit once more, featherlight and meticulous. You shudder at the sensation, a choked moan escaping the hollows of your throat.

“What do you say?” Joel teases, riling you up.

“Thank you, daddy.” You laugh softly, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze.

You sit up and turn yourself around, careful not to slosh any water outside of the tub. Joel has an amused look on his face and you huff a laugh through your nose before kissing him. It was passionate, like something you’d see in those romance movies on the big screen.

It’s a silent promise, something that can’t be put into words. It surges through your veins and exists in you all the time, heightened by the very man that made you feel these things again.

You pull apart from him, rubbing your nose against his before you lean back to take in his handsome features. His dark brown eyes gleamed with budding love.

Your gaze shifts to the untouched strawberries, and you pluck one off of the plate before taking a bite. It’s sweet; the mixture of chocolate and the fruit dancing on your taste buds. You hold the rest of the strawberry to Joel’s lips, and he grins before taking a bigger bite. You place the calyx back on the tray, gaze drifting to Joel again.

You grin when you see some chocolate on his bottom lip.

“You got a little…” Your words die in your throat as you lean forward, licking his bottom lip before kissing him again. You move to straddle his lap, hips flexing to fit around the broadness of him.

“Be mine forever.” He whispers against you.

“I’m already yours, Joel. You’ve always had me.”

You trail a hand down his chest, toying with his hair before sliding your palm down his torso as your nails slightly scrape his flesh. You plant soft kisses all along his collarbone, tongue poking out to lick his already wet skin.

Your wandering hand brushes through the tuft, wiry hair that sat atop his aching cock. You hum against him and wrap your hand around his length. He pulses in your hand, heavy and waiting to be relieved. You begin to slide your hand up and down his silky flesh, nipping at his collarbone as you did so.

Joel sucks in a breath behind clenched teeth, eyes closing in pure bliss as he tries to refrain from bucking up into your hand.

“Such a pretty cock. Love it so much.” You muse, and Joel groans at your words. He’ll never get used to you worshiping him and his body the way you do, he thinks.

But, he loves it all the same. It makes his heart fucking flutter, and even though he’ll probably never openly admit it, he loves it. It makes him feel worthy. Wanted. Loved.

“It’d look even prettier buried in that perfect pussy.” He says, and your movements falter for a split second. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his filthy mouth, but it was something you couldn’t get enough of.

You look down at him with hooded eyes and a satiated grin before lifting your hips up to hover over him, swiping his tip over your folds before sinking down on him. You’re slow with your movements, wanting to feel every ridge and vein his pretty, pretty cock has.

You both moan in harmony as you reach the hilt.

“So-fuckin’-perfect.” Joel grits, head lolling back as he takes in the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him so perfectly, like you were specifically made to be there. And you are, you think.

Your hands rest on his shoulders as you start gliding up and down on him, the stretch so welcoming every time you fully sink back down. Joel’s hands settle onto your ass to guide you into a steady pace. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, giving it a soft bite, and you gasp at the sensation. Joel could feel you clenching around him with every pass of his tongue on your sensitive bud.

One of your hands tangles itself into his curls once more, giving them a little tug. His eyes pop open and he lets go of your nipple with a small ‘pop’, gaze never wavering from yours. You toss him a saccharine smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

“So handsome.” You whisper, kissing every high point of his face before resting your forehead against his once more.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers grazing down on your ass slotting themselves between the crevice of both cheeks.

“Mhm.” You bite your lip, knowing what was coming. It was something new that you tried around a month ago and really liked, so Joel would implement the action whenever he could.

The tip of his middle finger circled around the tight ring of your asshole, a wicked grin on his lips as your hips stuttered.

“Gotta fill you all the way up, darlin’.” He chuckles as he pushes his middle finger into your tight hole.

Your eyes clamp shut tight, feeling so full of the man you love.

“Fuck, god, Joel– feels s’good.” Your words are slurring together and you’re trying your damnedest to keep the pace of your hips steady, maybe even riding him a little faster if that means his finger in your ass will pump faster, too.

“I know, baby. Doin’ so well. So good for me, hm? Takin’ what I give ya, so full n’ all.” He cooes, nosing at your jaw as your mouth falls slack and eyebrows thread together.

The pleasure coursing through your body is devastatingly euphoric, the sensation of him everywhere driving you crazy in all the right ways.

You know it wouldn’t be long before you fell apart at the seams for him once more.

That deep, throaty growl he does while his eyes are shut in concentration, and the pulsing feeling of his cock is a dead giveaway that he’s going to fall apart for you, too.

“‘M close, Joel.” You’re clawing at his back now, his finger curling inside you as you bury your face into his neck.

Your hips burn from straddling his wide frame, desperate for a break, but you won’t stop. Not until You’re falling apart for him and he, you.

“I know, sweet girl. Can feel ya. Give it t’me, c’mon.” He groans, fucking up into you. His jaw ticks as his teeth clench, feeling you pulsing around him as you cry out his name in pure bliss. Another orgasm crashes through you, eyes rolling back as your body goes limp on his.

It only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s coming, filling you with everything he has. He moans with every stutter of his hips as his chest heaves up and down, body following suit with yours and going completely limp. He removes his finger from you slowly before you lift yourself off of him, already missing the feeling of being so full.

You stay wrapped up in eachother for a few minutes, giving yourselves the chance to catch your breaths. You kiss his chest repeatedly, placing your hand over his rapidly beating heart.

“I love you. So fucking much, Miller.” You laugh softly, tracing patterns on his chest as your head presses against the solidity of it.

The feeling of his beating heart surges life into you. Knowing that you get to exist at the same time as this gorgeous, loving man is a feeling you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. There really are no words for it, you think. At least not strong enough to describe the feeling.

“I love you too, darlin’. Forever.”

And then you think to yourself, you’d do life over and over again if it meant you got to meet Joel in every single one of them.

i’m such a fucking sap dude. lmfaooo anyway, hope y’all enjoyed <3

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @joelsgreys ; @pamasaur ; @cool-iguana ; @joeloverture

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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austonwithan-o · 1 year

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“We’re parents? Like actually parents?”

No warnings really… pregnancy ig if that’s a trigger

You sat on the bathroom floor. The cold tiles sending chills throughout your body, the pregnancy test on the counter sat there. Your period was late. You hadn’t told Auston mostly because you just realized it that day but you also didn’t want to freak him out, he already had so much going on during off season. Training and planning for the season to start, it was a lot and the last thing you wanted to do was stress him out. You were shaking, praying for a good outcome but you didn’t know what a good outcome was. Auston and you always talked about getting married first before having kids. That’s just the way you were raised and how you pictured your future. Starting a family was one of your biggest dreams and you had expressed it many times with him but with his career and everything going on for him, he wanted to wait a few more years. On the other hand you wouldn’t mind having a mini you or a mini him running around playing floor hockey until you were confident enough to get them in skates, imagining Auston as a dad made your heart ache longingly for those days but you had no idea how Auston would react to it being so soon. You looked down at your phone. The 3 minute timer rang loudly in your ears and you slowly stood up. Grabbing the packaging you peeled the wrapper back revealing two pink lines. Your breath was caught in your throat. You felt nauseous and shaky. Quiet sobs left your mouth but you covered your mouth because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop once the crying really started. Your mind started racing with every outcome, truthfully you were happy but god you were terrified what Auston would think. You put the pregnancy test back in the box and threw it in the trash grabbing a wad of toilet paper and throwing it in to cover it. Auston wasn’t too observant thankfully. You knew he’d never look in the trash can and it bought you some time to think about how you would break the news to him.

You washed your hands and wiped your eye’s making yourself look presentable. It was almost 5 and he’d be home from playing golf with Mitch and Willy. Walking out of the bathroom and making your way downstairs you saw Auston pull into the driveway. You watched as the three piled out of the car grabbing their gear out of the back, you sat at the bar scrolling through instagram trying to distract yourself. The front door opening letting the warm Arizona air drift in.

“Hey baby how did the golfing go?” You asked not looking up from your phone.

“Absolutely crushed these goons.” He said laughing. He walked over lightly grabbing the side of your face, planting a kiss to your temple grabbing a beer from the fridge. Your anxiety was through the roof at this point and he knew something was up.

“Man I don’t even care, I’ve won the last 3 games buddy I just let you win this time.” Mitch said throwing his hat on the dining room table. “Sauce me a beer will ya?” Everyone was gathered around the bar at this point chatting and talking about their game mostly making fun of each other laughing.

“Mitch no one likes a sore loser bud.” Willy said cracking the beer open taking a long sip.

“I’m not a sore loser I’m just saying I won the last 3 times. This one win doesn’t mean anything.” You couldn’t help but laugh at their childish banter.

“Baby you want a drink?” Auston asked grabbing a white claw from your side of the drink fridge.

“Oh I’m okay! I’m not thirsty.” You said giving him a small smile, finally looking at him he gave you a weird look putting the drink back in the fridge. He went on with his conversation with the boys who were completely oblivious to the slight tension between you two.

You got up from the bar area heading back up to your room. Auston’s eyes not leaving your figure walking up the marble stairs, you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head. You laid in your bed with Felix staring at the ceiling, you were so exhausted you slowly drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to it being pitch dark outside and a warm spot from where Felix was laying beside you. You checked your phone and checked the time, 9:55pm, “holy shit y/n… 5 hours?” You rolled your eyes slightly annoyed with yourself for sleeping so long. You definitely weren’t getting any sleep tonight. You got up from the bed walking into the bathroom to brush your teeth and at least get ready for the night and the trash can was spilled onto the floor. Felix had a tendency to go through the trash can and you were mentally punching yourself for not shutting the door this morning. Horror filled your mind as you realized the pregnancy test was missing.

“Fucking hell Felix!” You whispered under your breath. You were certain Auston was probably taking a night swim or watching tv downstairs. All you had to do was find Felix and get the test before Auston could find it. You tiptoed downstairs and found him sitting on the couch watching TV. His back was facing towards you. Felix’s head perked up from the couch, Auston didn’t move and neither did you.

“You wanna talk about it?” His voice was raspy. You could tell he had been crying and your heart broke at the sound of it.

He finally turned around holding the test. His face showed no emotion. Slowly walking towards him the tears started streaming down your face again.

“Auston I didn’t mean to hide it from you I swear. I - I just needed time to process it, I was going to tell you I swear.” Your voice wash shaky and small, he lightly grabbed your wrists bring you down to his lap. His eyes were glossy and his lips curved into a slight smile.

“Y/n I love you with my whole entire being God I can’t even imagine my life without you. I know we weren’t planning this but I’m ready to be a dad if you’re ready to be a mom. I want to grow old with you, I want to raise a little family, teach our kids how to skate, how to play hockey.” He was crying and his words made you cry as well. His hands travelled from your hips to your tummy. His tattooed hand rested onto your tummy lightly rubbing it. Your cheeks were on fire. The feeling of everything was so surreal.

“Auston we’re gonna be parents now…like actual parents!” Tears still poured out of your eyes but a wide smile spread across your face. He placed a kiss on your forehead placing it against yours. “You know I kind of guessed it earlier.” A cocky grin was plastered on his tear stained face. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” You asked now playing with the chain around his neck.

“You refused a white claw for starters and I know when you start your period and it’s been a week since you usually start. I put two and two together and when Felix brought the test to me it just confirmed it.”

“I’m mildly impressed that you pieced that together.” He just laughed. Lifting your chin up and kissing you. He scanned your features. He was so lucky and he knew it.

———————

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kradogsrats · 28 days

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oh hey out of nowhere it's 1500 words of Claudiangst, possibly some kind of spiritual sequel to that Viren one from pre-s5

—

Claudia sits on a stone beside the Sea of the Castout, and sharpens her knife.

It’s not quite dawn, and the coming morning promises to be bright and clear—she can almost imagine that it’s just another sunrise in Xadia, and the last few days were a terrible and confusing dream. Maybe even the whole month. The ruined stump below her knee, radiating the dull, persistent ache that was as far as she could reduce the pain with what she had in her satchel, destroys the shelter of that fantasy.

The repeated motion of the blade against stone helps a bit, like her calming mantra once did. There is no synonym for cinnamon, there is no synonym for cinnamon—every stroke a little sharper, a little clearer, a little more deliberate. The soft lapping of the waves against the shore might have done the same, once.

She’d almost drowned. Without the potion, her shifted form hadn’t lasted. She’d kicked desperately toward the surface with one leg while bitter seawater and blood rushed into her lungs. When she finally broke the surface, choking and exhausted, it took everything she had just to stay afloat. There was no way she could swim to shore—only drift, watching the sky slowly darken. At some point, the tears came, hot on her sea-chilled face. By the time she washed up on the rocky beach, she’d been incoherent with pain and grief.

The transformation was also the only thing that kept her from bleeding out—her pentapus limbs fusing back together as they returned to human form had mostly closed the wound. Terry had stripped her out of her soaked clothes and wrapped her in a blanket, her body shivering uncontrollably from cold and shock. He’d bound her leg where it was still oozing blood, and he and Sir Sparklepuff fretted over her late into the night as she alternated between chills and feverish delirium.

She holds the blade up to examine it in the pre-dawn gloom, tilting it to catch whatever light it can. It’s a good knife, slim and elegant and curved. It has always been, ever since she found it on the body of a Sunfire elf while picking through the abandoned battlefield. It's far from the least useful thing she's harvested from the dead.

Still, it's not sharp enough. For now.

Wracked with sorrow and fear and pain, she barely slept an hour. But she dreamed.

She'd been back at the center of the sea, standing above it as if it was no more than a puddle. The surface below her was smooth as glass, perfectly reflecting the sky overhead—so overflowing with stars that she couldn't tell if it was night or day. Blood seeped slowly from her leg and dripped into the dark water, lurid in the harsh light, ripples spreading out of sight.

Aaravos’s voice came to her, echoing from every direction. Soft as a whisper, but vibrating through her bones like thunder. We are all stardust, bound together only by love.

She spun, foolishly hoping to see him there. If she could just plead her case to him—she could do better. She would do better. She'd been foolish, thinking her old friends would understand her. Sentimental. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

There was no one. She was alone between twin tapestries of stars, indistinguishable save for the red ripples that faintly disturbed the one below.

Someone once thought those words would comfort me. Do they comfort you?

“No,” she said. Her voice cracked. “They don’t.”

I thought not. Soft laughter, the kind of indulgent chuckle where it was impossible to tell if you were being laughed with or at—not cruel, but indisputably superior. They did not comfort me either, but I can give you something that might.

Her mouth trembled, eyes burning. She wanted so badly to be wrong, for him to have lied to her, for there to somehow be another chance. “You already said there's no way to bring him back a second time.”

All that could hold him here is cut loose. He is beyond your reach, now.

She couldn't stop her tears, but gulped in a breath and held it to keep from sobbing. It was her fault. She had failed. If she’d only—

If Ezran had just told her where the prison was—

If Callum hadn’t been so stubborn about bringing the baby Archdragon to Xadia—

If Soren had would have killed the elf back when she'd feigned sleep in that stupid, beautiful moonlit garden—if she'd made him, instead of indulging his stupid, childish sense of sportsmanship and honor—everything would be different. Everything would be fine.

She should have realized then that her brother wasn't on her side. Not really. Not like she'd been on his. Not like she'd always been on their family's side. She'd thought he loved her. She'd thought Callum had loved her, or at least liked her. Even Ezran had abandoned her, now. Everyone was gone. She only had Terry.

But I am not.

And Aaravos.

She breathed, shuddering inhales and exhales as she wiped at her face with her sleeve. "What do you want?"

I'm not the one you should be asking. Search your heart, child—there is still something you want very badly. Something that, with my help, lies within your grasp. If you are strong enough to take it.

She would already have everything she wanted, if she hadn't—if Callum and Ezran and that elf hadn't gotten in the way. If the boys she'd once thought of as her best friends hadn't left her for dead, choking and and bleeding and alone in open water. She'd done a lot of things she wasn't proud of—but she would never do that. Not to someone she cared about. They should have known she wouldn't actually hurt Ez.

She still didn't want to hurt him. Not much.

Callum, though—Callum she wouldn't mind hurting. The elf she'd cheerfully tear apart with her bare hands.

The sky continues to lighten, and she holds up the knife again. It's sharp now, like new—it will cut swift and clean. Traveling Xadia for two years, she'd learned a lot. How sharp a blade had to be, the amount of strength it took to sink it deep enough, where and how to cut. Back in Katolis, it had once sickened her to put her hands around a fawn's fragile neck to save her brother. She'd cried with frustration and shame as she struggled, trying to ignore the creature's panicked bleats and thin, flailing legs. Now, she could cut its throat before it even realized what was happening. Ruthlessly. Mercifully.

It can still be better. She returns to the stone.

Fortunately, you already have something that can give you that strength.

Aaravos had told her what to do. Then she'd been plunged into the blood-red water below her, dragged down into the darkness. She'd fought, reaching toward the receding surface, but she was so deep she couldn't even see the light from the sky. As her strength and breath ran out, everything fading away into a soft, endless black, she thought she felt the brush of fingers against her own.

Sir Sparklepuff had been crouched beside her when she started awake, pawing at her as he stared down into her face from the dark. "Blood!" he croaked, scampering away when she sat up. "Blood, blood of child, bloodied child!"

The eastern sky was beginning to pale by the time she'd dragged herself into her clothes and mixed herself something to bring the pain of her leg down to bearable levels. She'd levered herself upright with her staff, hobble-hopping to a nearby rock. The rocky sand shifted under her with each step, only the staff and her own desperation keeping her from falling. If she went down, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to get up again.

She finally collapsed on the rock, chest heaving with effort from having crossed barely ten paces of beach. Aaravos was right—between exhaustion, pain, and blood loss, she wouldn't be going anywhere without a boost.

Her eyes fell on Terry, a little line of worry creased between his brows even as he slept, snoring lightly. He cared for her so much it made her heart hurt, but so had Callum and Ezran, once. Now she saw that he would only ever hold her back. If she still had those coins, Moonshadow elf would be in the palm of her hand. Even tossing them into the lava beneath Umber Tor, though a waste, might have broken her enough to disrupt whatever sway she held over the boys.

It will be best for both of them for her to leave him behind. Maybe he'll hurt for a while, but he won't see how cruel she can be. How cruel she will be, once she catches up with her prey. Let him remember loving a girl who still hesitated.

The first glimmers of sunlight peek over the horizon, and Sparklepuff is at her side. He gazes up at her adoringly, head resting against her good leg, the pale violet stretch of his throat exposed. The blade is heavy in her hand.

Claudia's knife won't get any sharper. She cuts swift and clean.

#kradogsfic #claudia #sorry this is completely incoherent in its verb tense it made sense at the time #(no it didn't but whatever i don't care)

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wild-karrde · 9 months

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In Command - Part 16

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: I HAVE BEEN SO HYPED ABOUT THIS CHAPTER, AND NOW IT'S HERE, SO BUCKLE UP. As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me and mutually screeching with excitement with me!

Chapter Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic description of injury, language, explicit sexual content (PiV sex)

Word Count: 7.7k words

The sun’s rays were just starting to creep over the horizon when Senna finally slowed the speeder bike near one of the small outcroppings of mountains that peppered Lothal’s grassy plains. She had no idea how long they’d been going or even how far they were from the city, but the sound of the pursuing speeders had faded hours ago. Still, she’d kept going, trying to put as much distance as she could between the two of them and the Imperials. Her body ached from stiffness and cold and injuries that she had yet to tally, but she hardly noticed as she maintained her connection to Rex through the Force. His life signs were fading, and she was frantic to find shelter.

Several cave entrances loomed in front of her at the base of the cliffs as she slowed the bike to a stop. Climbing down, she took her lightsaber from her belt, and stepped inside the nearest cavern, choosing proximity and convenience above all other factors. Every second that passed felt like a significant loss, and her fear was spiking as Rex’s life signs continued to weaken. She did not sense any life forms within the cave, but wanted to ensure they weren’t about to walk into some creature’s nest while it was out. Finding the cave entirely deserted with nothing but a shallow deposit of water and a handful of rock formations, she jogged back to the entrance and pulled the bike and Rex inside.

As soon as they were far enough in for her to feel safe and hidden, she illuminated a glow rod and set out her bedroll from her pack before pulling Rex from the bike, nearly collapsing under his weight and her own exhaustion. After a good amount of shuffling and swearing, she managed to gently lay him on the bedroll in the corner of the cavern, pulling the bedroll’s thin blanket up to cover his lower half as she tucked a bag under his head to serve as a makeshift pillow. Her breath caught in her throat as she finally surveyed the extent of his injuries.

His face was alarmingly pale and his skin felt clammy. Several trickles of blood had dried on his temple and across the bridge of his nose from his forehead wound, but that was superficial, much to her relief. It was nothing compared to the burn mark in the middle of his chest that had left a hole large enough to turn her stomach. The wound had mostly cauterized from the bolt, but some parts of the charred flesh had reopened, likely from being jostled on the bike, and Rex’s shirt and cloak were soaked with blood.

Senna fought the urge to burst into tears.

There’s no way that missed all of his organs.

She closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath.

He’s survived a shot in almost the exact same spot before.

But that was with a smaller caliber weapon. And he had immediate care from an actual medic.

Digging her teeth into her lip hard enough to draw blood, she opened her eyes.

He’s dying. I can’t let that happen. There’s got to be a way.

As quickly as her shaking hands would allow, Senna ripped open Rex’s go-bag, which had somehow managed to stay fastened on the back of the speeder bike, and fished out the meager medpack. Her heart sank as she took stock of the inventory. There wasn’t much inside, certainly not enough to heal him fully. She felt a sob tighten her chest, but she swallowed hard as she tried to think.

“Calm your mind. Only through calm will you find your way.”

Her master’s words echoed in her mind as she grasped for solutions, doing her best to keep the chilling feeling of despair at bay.

You’ve got to save him. You can’t let him die.

Senna could contain the sob no longer, and she finally allowed her fear to burst through in a shuddering exhale as tears began to leak from her eyes. Her mind continued to race, trying to find any possibility of how to save Rex.

It’s not enough.

Her hands trembled as she started to consider even the most implausible solutions.

What if I went back? Turned myself in and bargained for his safety? His life for my surrender?

She almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it all.

It’s the fucking Empire. They won’t bargain. Especially not Fisk.

She glanced over at Rex.

He’d tear me a new one if he knew I was even considering this, even as a last option.

Senna buried her face in her hands, letting the tears flow freely.

What the fuck do I do?

She wasn’t sure how long she sat like that, but suddenly, a brief memory from her time as a youngling surfaced, a story that they’d been told of a Jedi knight who had healed his padawan by channeling his life force into him, a tale to teach the Jedi way of self-sacrifice in the service of others, particularly future generations.

Is it even true?

It was barely a glimpse of a memory and, as with many of the Jedi stories, it had never been made clear to them if the story was real or just a fable meant for a moral lesson.

I have to try.

Senna stared down at her trembling, bloody hands. She shuddered as she remembered how she’d allowed the cold to seep into her again the night before, how angry and vengeful she’d felt as she’d charged those two stormtroopers. It had been an act of desperation, her reaching for the only reliable source of power she could tap into. She was ashamed of how she’d done it, but she couldn’t find it within herself to fully regret it, not with Rex here, alive at least for now.

It got us out of it, even if it was wrong. And now you can still do some good. The right way.

Closing her eyes, Senna steadied her breathing, trying to reach for the warmth of the Force again, focusing on Rex’s dwindling signature.

You can do this.

She rubbed her hands nervously together, trying to center herself.

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

Gently, she undid Rex’s cloak and peeled back what remained of his shirt so that she would be able to place her hands on his bare skin. The sight of the exposed wound marring his chest, the skin that her fingers had traced so intimately less than a week ago, made her stifle another sob.

Stay focused. Breathe.

She gave him one of the few injections of pain killer she had in his neck and placed her shaking hands on the skin on either side of the wound. She tried to not think about how cold he felt.

I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. My life for his. Please let me be able to keep him alive.

She felt nothing happening, so she reached deeper, furrowing her brows in concentration.

Breathe. You can do this. You have to do this.

Sweat broke out across the back of Senna’s neck. She pictured Rex’s eyes opening, looking into hers. She thought of his smile, of his laugh and how she had come to treasure that sound.

I love him.

The thought came unbidden, but she couldn’t stop it, nor did she want to.

I love him.

It was as if her internal admission chipped away further at the barriers she’d put in place between herself and the Force. Suddenly, she felt awash with the familiar warmth, her fingertips growing warmer. Her heart began to race.

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. My life for his. I am one with the Force.

She felt the warmth tingle at the points where her fingertips and palms were placed against Rex’s skin, and she desperately wanted to open her eyes to see if anything was happening, but she restrained herself, fighting the surge of hopefulness welling up within her to maintain her concentration.

NOT YET. FOCUS. YOU HAVE TO FOCUS.

I AM ONE WITH THE FORCE AND THE FORCE IS WITH ME.

“Come on, Rex. Don’t leave me.” She didn’t realize she was whispering to herself immediately, but her pleas grew louder, echoing in the quiet cavern. “Please don’t leave me.”

Sweat trickled down Senna’s brow as she resumed her silent vigil, repeating the mantra in her mind as she anchored her thoughts on Rex. She wasn’t sure whether seconds or minutes or even hours had passed, but finally, she felt him shift underneath her hands. Her concentration shattered, and her eyes snapped open to see him mouthing the mantra with her, his eyes still closed.

“Rex?” she choked.

There was no answer, but when she placed her fingers against the pulse point on his throat, she thought she felt his heartbeat grow ever so slightly stronger. Squeezing her eyes shut, she reached out through the Force and found him once more. His signature seemed to shimmer a little brighter. Her breath caught in her throat.

Please don’t be wishful thinking.

Her eyes fluttered open again, watching him carefully for any apparent sign of improvement. Of course she didn’t expect him to open his eyes and suddenly start speaking to her, but that didn’t stop a small part of her from hoping for it. She stared at him a moment longer, barely daring to breathe.

The wound doesn’t look any better, but his pulse was definitely a bit stronger, and he seems a little less pale.

I have to try again.

Her hope renewed, Senna calmed her mind, her determination hardening her against distractions.

I can do this. I have to do this.

Hours passed. Senna kept trying, straining and focusing as hard as she could. It was clear her connection still wasn’t completely unhindered, sputtering and slipping through her fingers at times, but her resolve was unshakeable. She was too stubborn to consider any alternatives but success, denying all outcomes where Rex didn’t survive.

As the sun was sinking back below the horizon and the shadows in the cave were growing longer, Senna managed to get a bacta patch placed over Rex’s chest wound before she finally collapsed from exhaustion. She’d never spent so long attempting to channel the Force, and had never tried to do so in this way. Her connection still wasn’t fully repaired, and she suspected that made things even more physically taxing. Every cell of her body felt heavy, and she could barely keep her eyes open. The hard, coolness of the cave’s floor hardly phased her as she allowed herself to relax against it.

Please let it be enough.

She managed to open her eyes one more time to look at Rex and saw his chest rising and falling evenly, his breathing more steady and deeper. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks, the ashen pallor returning more to the warm brown tones she was used to. Despite her fatigue, she was certain the edges of the wound had been looking less angry and red as she’d bandaged it, that it appeared as if it was starting to heal. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to be enough for now. He’d still need medical attention beyond what she was capable of performing, but death at least seemed to be off the table for the immediate future.

Senna knew she should stay awake to keep watch, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Making sure her lightsaber was within reach, she scooted closer to Rex and curled her knees into her torso, resting one hand on his chest so she could feel the rise and fall as he breathed. His heartbeat felt stronger under her fingertips, and as she drifted off, her final thoughts brought a slight smile to her lips.

He’s going to live.

—

Senna awoke with a start, struggling to remember where she was. Her scraped knees were stiff and stinging as she straightened her legs, and her back and shoulders ached from the hardness of the stone she was lying on. The glow rod she’d illuminated had faded, but the cave entrance was bathed in moonlight, cascading across the shallow pool and sending light dancing over the walls. As her mind fully awoke, the memory of the last rotation slammed into her at full speed.

Rex.

She whirled to find him looking at her, his warm, brown eyes piercing her in the dim light.

“Rex!” she gasped, scrambling closer to him. “Are you alright? How do you feel?”

He gave her a tight smile, failing to hide a wince. His voice sounded raw and gravelly from lack of use, but just hearing him speak was enough to almost make her cry. “I’ve had better days, and a few that have been worse I suppose.” He propped himself up on his elbows, and Senna carefully helped him sit up against the wall, pulling the blanket up further. Rex slowly turned his head, grimacing at the stiffness in his neck.

“How long have we been here?”

Senna’s mind was still foggy from sleep, but she managed to croak out an answer around the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her. “Assuming I haven’t been asleep for more than a few hours, it’s been a full day. We got here just before the sun came up this morning.”

“And the Imperials?”

“Lost them for now. We drove all night to find this place.”

Confusion rippled across his features. “How…how did you…how are we alive?”

She laughed a little as her voice cracked. “You almost weren’t. I managed to handle the other two speeder bikes after you were shot.” She swallowed hard, pushing away the memories of how Rex had looked only a few hours ago.

Rex glanced down at the wound in his chest, carefully prodding at the bacta patch on it experimentally. He sucked a sharp breath in when he hit a painful spot before looking at her again.

“I thought I was a goner for sure. That bolt hit me square in the chest.”

“Yes, it did.” She couldn’t think of what else to say. The memory of Rex’s grip loosening around her waist as he’d lost consciousness sent a chill down her spine. She clenched her fists to hide the tremble in her hands.

“Senna, then how-“

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly, “but I think I was able to heal you a bit. With the Force.”

“With the Force? I didn’t think it had healing properties? That would have been handy during the war,” he joked dryly.

“No, no. I think…”

Oh, he’s gonna hate this.

She gave him a small, somewhat sheepish smile. “I think I transferred some of my life force to you. Using the Force.”

It took a moment for Rex to realize what she was saying, and when he did, his eyes widened in horror. “Senna, you can’t do that anymore.”

“Rex, it’s fine.”

“No, absolutely not,” he insisted.

“I didn’t transfer that much. You’ll still need to heal.”

“I’ll do it the old-fashioned way then.” He tried to sit up straighter, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain from his chest and leg shot through his body. He reached down to check the damage on his thigh and knee.

Senna’s face burned with embarrassment. “Oh, your leg! I completely forgot about that.” She realized she hadn’t even wiped the blood from his face before she’d passed out earlier.

You’re not a medic, but you could have at least cleaned his face off before taking a nap.

“Yeah, well I didn’t, somehow,” he said flatly as he shot her a pained smirk to let her know he was teasing.

She returned the snark reflexively. “I’m sorry. I was a little more concerned with the gaping hole in your chest.”

He nodded in concession. “I can see why that’d be the priority.”

She noticed he was shivering, and she chided herself even more harshly internally.

Karking hells, Aven.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t set up camp or anything. I just… I’m sorry.”

Rex didn’t say anything as she hurriedly pushed herself to her feet, but she could feel his eyes on her. She tried to ignore the protest of her joints as she strode over to her retrieve pack, which she’d left next to the bike with Rex’s. Limping back to him, she set both packs down and began digging through them for rations and water. Of course, Rex had packed more than she had, and it was much more organized. She quickly found two ration bars and water packets, handing one of each to Rex and setting the other set aside for herself. Rex was still watching her as she shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking down to the bloodied and torn knees of her trousers.

“Your knees–” he tried to protest.

“Are in better shape than you are,” she cut him off, gingerly squatting down to get more med supplies out of the medpack. Rex apparently saw no point in arguing with her. He drained the water she’d handed him in seconds, tearing into the ration bar with a hunger that made her gut twist with guilt.

How long was he lying there awake, hungry, and cold while I slept?

Senna prompted Rex to sit forward, grabbing the other bedroll’s blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders and across his chest to keep him warmer. It seemed to help a little. She’d found a few sterilization wipes and another bacta patch in the medpack, and she tore one of the wipes open with her teeth as she tilted Rex’s face towards her. The moonlight reflecting off the shallow pool flickered across his face, illuminating his eyes as he watched her. She tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks again as she carefully cleaned the blood off of his face. He winced when she swiped over the cut.

“Sorry,” she said softly.

“S’alright,” he chuckled. “Told you you’d get the opportunity to patch me up before this was all said and done.”

Senna’s chest clenched at the memory of the two of them sitting across the kitchen table from one another, Rex gently examining the wounds on her wrists that Fisk had left. Meeting Rex’s eyes briefly, she could see he was thinking of that moment too, of a time where they hadn’t been at odds.

Are we still though?

She’d kissed him.

She didn’t regret it. She’d thought they were probably going to die. But she still hadn’t torn that barrier down between them, not fully. There was a lingering awkwardness, some lingering doubts as to where they stood with each other that hung in the air like a thick fog.

He said we’d talk about it later. Not sure when later is.

She moved to crouch next to Rex, taking out a penlight to examine the injuries on his leg. The wound in his thigh was more of a graze, and the hit to his knee hadn’t landed as directly as she’d thought, skimming along the joint, but mercifully leaving it intact.

He may need to surgically repair any tendons or ligaments that were damaged from the bolt or the fall, but he’s incredibly lucky.

Working quickly, she cleaned both wounds, cauterizing where she needed to before smoothing bacta patches over both of them.

“Would you be alright if I checked your chest wound?” she asked.

Rex nodded at her, still chewing at his ration bar. He turned his head away as she moved closer to him, not looking as she opened the blanket and braced one hand against his skin while she peeled the patch away as gingerly as she could. Senna could still see Rex’s face twitch slightly from the pain out of the corner of her eye, but overall, he remained silent as she pulled the bandage the rest of the way off. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the wound before her.

It was definitely starting to heal. The redness had faded completely from the edges, and scar tissue was already visible around the outside, pink and shiny. The inner portion was still angry-looking, but compared to how it had looked when they’d first arrived, anyone would have thought he’d have been soaking in a bacta tank for a day.

Rex shared her look of awe as he carefully examined the wound.

“Sen,” he said softly. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t let you die,” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. “I-I couldn’t.”

The silence stretched out between them, all of the implications and questions that simple statement raised waiting to be reached for. After a few moments, Senna wet her lips.

“So what do we do now?”

Rex’s brow furrowed as he thought. After a few moments, he shifted awkwardly, trying to reach for something in one of his pockets.

“What are you looking for?” Senna asked. “Can I get it for you?”

“No,” Rex grunted before he finally managed to get his hand into his pocket. “I just… ah good, didn’t drop it.” He pulled out a small device and immediately began fiddling with it.

“What’s that for?” Senna watched as he punched a button on the side. A bright red light illuminated, blinking steadily, and the sound of static filled the cave followed by a regular beeping.

“It’s the emergency beacon I mentioned,” Rex replied. “Was worried I might have dropped it in the fray, but looks like our luck held for once. This is our ticket out of here.”

The static and beeping ping suddenly ceased, replaced by a brief crackling and a familiar voice. “Rex? That you?”

Relief spread across Rex’s face, and Senna couldn’t help but smile to see him finally relax a little. “Yeah, it is. Glad to hear your voice, Echo,” he chuckled. “Listen, we’re in a bind on Lothal and need a pick-up. Are you able to home in on my beacon’s signal?”

Echo paused, and Senna could hear the distinct clicking of control console buttons being punched in the background. “It’s pretty weak, but once we get into your system, I should be able to pinpoint your location. How fast do you need us there?”

Rex looked at Senna and she shrugged. “Not sure, but sooner rather than later. The Imps raided our dwelling last night, but we managed to get out and blow the place up. We’re a good distance out from the city, holed up in a cave somewhere out in the grasslands. Haven’t heard any patrols passing by yet, but I have to imagine they’ll make their way out here eventually. I’m pretty banged up, so I don’t think we’ll be moving anywhere new soon without help.”

“Understood.” Senna could hear Echo speaking to someone briefly, a man with a matter-of-fact tone that she didn’t recognize. Echo replied with something unintelligible that sounded like an affirmative before returning to the line. “We can be there in a rotation, two at most. Can you hold out that long?”

Rex’s eyes met Senna’s, and she nodded in confirmation. “Sounds like we’ll manage.”

“Roger that. I’ll get the boys spun up and we’ll head your way ASAP. Keep the beacon on and stay safe.”

“Will do.” Rex clicked off the comm and set the blinking beacon next to him. “Well, that’s one thing sorted. You really think we can do a day or two?”

She poked through their bags, mentally inventorying their supplies. “Yeah, we’ve got enough rations in here for that I think. Might have to go hunting if we get too hungry, but we won’t starve to death. The water in here is pretty convenient, although it’ll need sterilization. I think I’ve got enough tabs for two rotations. Overall, I think we’ll be fine.” She shivered. “I’ll go find something to make us a fire with. It’s cold in here.”

“You don’t think that’ll let the Imperials know we’re here?”

“I’m more concerned about keeping predatory animals away that might want to sleep here and keeping us warm. Let’s worry about the immediate threats, and then when the Imperials become one, we’ll worry about them. Plus, there are plenty of hunters and nomads out here. I don’t think campfires are anything out of the ordinary.”

“Maybe not, but they’re not always looking for someone.”

“We’re so far from where we started, Rex. And you and I both know they didn’t have many vehicles good for a large search in the city. If it was me, knowing you were hit in the escape, I’d assume we’d have stopped much sooner to try and fix you up or rest. I’d start the search in a much smaller area as I waited for additional resources and troops to arrive. Then I’d expand the circle methodically.”

She expected more pushback, more arguing, but instead, Rex shrugged, seemingly accepting her logic. Doing her best to hide her surprise, Senna ventured out to find something to make a fire with.

An hour later, they had a small fire burning towards the back of the cave. With the better illumination, Senna went to work on re-patching Rex’s chest wound. Even with its apparent improvement, Rex still swore loudly when she cauterized the few spots that still needed it.

“Is this payback for when you were shot?” he hissed as she examined her work.

“Now, Rex, I’m hurt that you think I would be that petty,” she teased. Even with her joking, she still took extra care to be gentle when placing the bacta patch over the wound, and soon she could see the tension in his shoulders easing as the pain began to subside.

“You need another injection?” she asked. “We’ve got three more.”

“Nah. I’d like to keep my head about me.”

She nodded, packing the supplies back into the medkit. “I’ll take first watch then.”

“You’ve done enough,” he grunted as he shifted himself around to get more comfortable. “I’ll do it. I’ll need your blaster since I dropped mine.” He held out his hand for the weapon. When she hesitated, he waved his hand at her insistently. “Rest a while. I’ve got this.”

Senna shook her head, pulling out the other bedroll and placing it on the ground a respectable distance from Rex. She saw his eyes note the space between them as well. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much more tonight,” she said quietly, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll watch.”

“Senna.”

Her breath hitched in her throat as his warm hand closed around hers.

“Senna, look at me.”

She finally raised her eyes to meet his. He was silently pleading with her, wanting to comfort her, but not wanting to push her. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “And then I was so sure you were going to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” Emotion was beginning to overwhelm her again, and she swallowed hard, sitting down on the mat next to him. Rex released her hand, but he stayed quiet, clearly wanting to allow her to speak her piece. “I… I thought I’d lost you, Rex.”

“I’m right here, Sen.” The nickname shattered her, and she unleashed a shuddering sob, covering her face with her hands.

What do I even say?

She heard Rex take a deep breath, sighing gently.

“You didn’t lose me,” he said quietly. “You won’t ever lose me, Senna. Regardless of where we stand with each other. I won’t leave you. Even if we’re not…” his voice trailed off.

“You can’t make that promise,” she rasped.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I can’t, not with what we do. But what I can promise is that I will do everything in my power to try. Just to try, Sen. That’s all I can do.”

Senna let her hands drop away from her face, meeting Rex’s gaze again. He gave her a gentle, sad smile. The firelight flickered across his warm brown irises, still so comforting to her even though he was the injured one. He loved her, it was so obvious now when she saw the way he was looking at her. Of course, he’d said as much, but the way he was looking at her was such a resounding confirmation that he’d meant it.

Even now, he’s giving me an out. He’s not pressing me. Even after I kissed him. Even though he feels that way.

It was as if someone threw a switch in Senna’s brain, and suddenly everything was so clear.

I don’t know if I’ll endanger him more being what I am, but I can’t be without him anymore. I can’t. I almost lost him tonight. And if I had without telling him, without him knowing… I’d have never forgiven myself.

Rex was still watching her, clearly trying to gauge her reaction.

What we do always will be dangerous, with or without each other. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him safe. But maybe I can do that better with him. Maybe we do things better together.

Maybe it’s worth the risk.

“Senna.”

Don’t we deserve this? her mind whispered.

The question was apparent in his gaze.

Where do we go from here? Tell me what you want.

Slowly, she crawled over to him, kneeling next to him and ignoring the stinging of her bloodied kneecaps. She stared at him for another few moments as the last holdout in her mind finally surrendered to her heart. Rex was quiet, but she could feel the nerves rolling off of him, the concern, the love, and suddenly she realized how she was feeling those emotions from him.

She closed her eyes and reached out through the Force.

He’s warm, like sand on a beach when the sun’s starting to finally set. He’s solid, unwavering, so sure of himself. I can feel it all.

A warm, calloused hand rested against her cheek and she let out a stuttering breath, bringing her hand up to interlace her fingers in his. “You were right, you know,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

“About what?” He sounded devastatingly hopeful, but also reserved, as though he was still trying to withhold every emotion until she was certain.

And she loved him more for it.

Her eyes fluttered open as she took a deep, shaky breath. “I do love you, Rex.”

Saying the words felt like a weight had lifted from her. It felt right. The last day had served as a violent reminder that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and she wasn’t going to waste another moment fighting the way she felt. Not when Rex, the man she loved, was staring at her like that. Not when she’d been lucky enough to have another opportunity to tell him exactly how she felt.

He studied her, his eyes searching hers as if he wanted to be absolutely sure he understood what she was saying.

“Yeah?” he rasped.

She leaned closer, pressing her forehead to his, giggling softly. “Yeah.”

“Do… do you want…” He wasn’t sure how to ask the question, but she understood anyway. She stroked his cheek reassuringly.

“I almost lost you last night, and in that moment, all I could think of was how much time I’ve wasted over the last year. I didn’t feel like I was allowed to be happy or want for anything because I survived when so many did not. This felt like penance, and if I allowed myself joy or any other emotion that wasn’t tied to the rebellion’s success, I wasn’t doing that penance correctly.” She chewed her lip, searching for the right words. “But you were right, Rex. We do deserve happiness, and I didn’t realize how much I was going to regret not having you until I almost didn’t. So, yes. I want this. I want you.”

His breath was warm against her lips.

“Say it again, Senna. Only if you mean it.”

“I love you, Rex. I love-”

He cut her off, crashing his lips against hers and kissing her hard. Those three words had been all the confirmation he needed.

She surrendered to him.

Rex’s hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her on top of him to straddle his hips. The blanket slipped from his shoulders, pooling on the cave’s floor.

“You’re hurt,” she tried to protest.

“Don’t care,” he insisted, pulling her mouth back to his. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer against him. She felt his hands slide under the edge of her shirt, pressing against her spine with enough force that she was forced to rest her hands against his chest.

“It’s fine,” he muttered against her lips. “Stop worrying about me.” His fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her desperately. Senna let him take the lead, shrugging out of her jacket and flinging it off to the side. Her fingers wrapped around the back of Rex’s neck as she began to grind her core against him. She needed him, needed reassurance that this was real, that he was here with her and safe and that they loved one another. Rex was giving her all of the permission she could ask for to do so. She ran her hands down the side of his neck, one hand wrapping around the back of his head while the other one trailed down his chest. She felt him shudder under her touch.

“I love you,” she breathed. Now that she’d finally said the words, she wasn’t sure she could stop. Every time she said them, she felt Rex’s heart rate leap beneath her fingers, felt his mouth draw into a smile against hers. It was intoxicating.

Rex’s lips worked along her jaw to her neck, and Senna granted him access, arching into his touch and letting her head fall to the side so he could nuzzle at the tendons of her throat. He pushed the neck of her tunic aside to expose the scar on her collarbone, gently placing a kiss on it. Senna let out a small gasp at the intimacy of it, remembering how he’d kissed the same place that night in the inn.

“You survived for a reason,” he whispered against her skin. “You’re going to do so much good in this fight, I truly believe that. But I also have to believe you survived so that you could help me. So that you could show me how to love someone in a way I never thought I would.” He cradled her face, pressing his forehead to hers again, his breath stuttering against her lips. “You deserve the galaxy, Senna. The least I can do is offer you myself. All of me for as long as you could possibly want me. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I want to find out. With you.”

“I love you, Rex,” she whispered again, quivering in his grasp. “I love you so much.”

“I know. And I love you too.”

Heat raced through her, pooling between her legs. His hands were on her skin, holding her firmly and yet so gently, and electricity licked up her spine as he lifted her shirt over her head. She allowed him to fumble with the bindings on her breastband for a few seconds before she swatted his hands away and removed it herself.

“Can I have you again?” he rasped, and the words sent arousal coursing through her like lightning searching for the ground.

“Are you… sure you’re up for it?” she panted, already awkwardly wriggling out of her pants.

“I’ll manage,” he muttered, shimmying his own trousers down just far enough to free his cock before pulling her back into his lap.

“I’ll be gentle,” she whispered teasingly in between panted breaths.

“I can’t guarantee I will be,” he rumbled, winking up at her.

Senna felt the head of his cock notch against her entrance easily, and another shiver rippled through her. Rex threw his discarded blanket around her shoulders before resting his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her down onto him with a groan.

Senna’s head rolled back and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her walls stretch around Rex’s thick cock once more. Every cell of her body was screaming at her to go faster, to bury him as far inside of her as he could go, to let him claim her in whatever way he desired. She needed to feel every inch of him, needed to be coupled with him like this. The sex they’d already had paled in comparison to this. Every barrier she’d put in place between her and Rex, between her and the Force was gone, and she felt him, every piece of him, physical and otherwise. She was vulnerable, but she was with him, the person she trusted more than anyone else. She was safe. The connection was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, overwhelming her in every way. She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Rex’s thumbs swiping against her cheeks.

“Sen, we can stop.”

“No. Please don’t,” she whispered. “I need this. I need you.”

“You have me,” he said softly, kissing her cheek. His voice was taut, and it was clear he was holding back, waiting for Senna to adjust to him. “All of me, Sen. I’m yours.”

Her hips finally rested against his, his thighs warm underneath her. She ground against him experimentally, and they both moaned quietly. Her clit dragged through the dark curls that haloed his base, and she clenched, ripping another gasp from Rex. His hands found her breasts, cupping them gently as his thumb brushed over her nipple. Senna whined, pressing against Rex more insistently, and he pulled her closer with one hand splayed against her back.

“Tell me what you want,” he asked, just like he had at the inn.

Senna was ready this time, her misgivings and worries abandoned as she relinquished herself to him fully. “You,” she gasped. “Only you.”

“You have me.” He tugged at her nipple experimentally, and her nails dug into the back of his neck, drawing a grunt from him. “Now, tell me what you want, pretty girl. I’ll give you anything.”

“P-put your mouth on me,” she begged.

“Atta girl,” Rex praised, pulling her breast to his lips and sucking her nipple lightly, flicking his tongue over the hardening bud. His hand cupped her other one, squeezing gently and massaging her other nipple. It was ecstasy when his teeth gently scraped against her flesh.

Senna picked up her pace, pressing herself closer to him as she rode him. “Maker, Rex. More.”

His lips trailed across her chest, sucking marks into her skin as his hands guided her hips against him. Desperation took over, a need that made the world around them disappear into a muted, out of focus afterthought. All she could see was Rex, brow furrowed as he watched her, lips slightly parted in pleasure. She was acutely aware of every place their bodies touched, the way his fingertips were digging into her skin, the way his chest heaved against hers, the way his cock twitched inside of her, the feeling of his lips against hers and the taste of his tongue. It was all so much and not enough at the same time.

Senna almost laughed to herself, remembering the club in the capital and how she’d been warring with herself then, how she’d denied what was so clearly there. This time, she let herself go, whispering Rex’s name and spurring him on with whimpered pleas. Despite his injuries, Rex was persistent and attentive, studying her every reaction, searching for the places that made her moan and the touches that made her come undone.

This was so different from any other time that they’d been together. The club had been rushed, desperate, frantic. Even back at the inn, there had been space between them, unspoken concerns and worries that kept them at a distance even while they were coupled. None of that existed now. There was no hesitation, no fears, nothing stopping the two of them from giving themselves to the other as fully as possible. The intimacy was staggering to Senna, and looking at the way Rex was watching her, she could tell he felt the same.

She’d never get enough of him. She was certain of it.

Her knees were screaming in protest as the wounds rubbed against the bedroll beneath Rex, barely cushioned from the hard stone of the cave floor, but she didn’t care. Not as Rex coaxed an orgasm from her and then another, pulling her close and kissing her sweaty skin until she recovered enough to keep going, silencing any of her worries or protests with insistent kisses. It was awkward at times, Rex trying to find ways to meet Senna with his bad leg and failing, the two of them falling into one another in fits of giggles and apologies before one of them would pull the other back under.

It wasn’t flawless, but it was perfect.

The fire had died down to glowing embers by the time Senna felt her final climax starting to edge forward. Her fingers dug into Rex’s shoulders as she felt her body beginning to tighten once more, signaling her impending orgasm. It was going to be devastating, she could tell by the rate at which the coil within her was tightening, the way her head was swimming as though she was drunk on him. She was almost sad, knowing she wouldn’t have another in her, understanding that her exhaustion was going to claim her once they were done.

She never wanted to stop.

But he’s yours. There’s more time. You have time.

“Rex, I-” A gasp cut off her whimper as the head of Rex’s cock brushed the perfect place inside of her again.

“I know. I can feel it,” he rasped. “I’m close too.”

“Cum with me,” she pleaded. Her vision was blurring with tears as he nudged her closer to the precipice, his cock striking the same place inside of her with every stroke. “Please.”

“Anything for you,” he groaned, his voice taut again as he dangled over the edge with her. She could feel the muscles in his thighs tightening as he chased his own orgasm. She allowed her forehead to rest against his again, staring into his eyes. His fingers dug into her hips as he increased their pace, thrusting up into her with grunts caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. Like her, he couldn’t be bothered to stop, no matter how much his body ached.

“I-I love you, Senna Aven,” he stuttered.

“I’m yours, Rex.”

One of Rex’s hands slipped around the back of her head, keeping her face pressed to his as he finished with a punctured gasp. Senna felt his cock twitch within her as his warmth flooded her, dribbling out between her legs. That sensation alone sent her hurtling over the edge after him, and she buried her face in his neck, crying out as the waves of her orgasm crashed over her.

Senna had no idea how long they sat like that, molded against one another with Rex’s softening cock still nestled inside of her. Finally, Rex wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her firmly as he leaned over and grabbed the other bedroll, yanking it closer with a grunt. Sitting back up, he brushed the hair that had come loose from her braid out of her face. His fingers lingered against her skin, and Senna turned to press a kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Still love me?” he asked quietly, the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“After that, how could I not?” she joked, kissing him gently. “Yes. I do.”

Rex finally allowed himself a full smile, one that nearly split his face in two. “Good.”

Maker, he’s handsome, Senna thought with wonder. And he wants me.

She finally slid off of him, taking care to mind his injuries. She didn’t bother to put her clothes back on, finding the blanket surprisingly warm as she wrapped it around herself.

“Will you let me fix your knees?” Rex prompted.

Senna giggled. “Yes.”

Even with his injuries, Rex was quick, pulling her legs across his lap and cleaning the abrasions thoroughly before smearing bacta over them. Senna winced at the sting, but Rex leaned down to gently blow on the damaged skin, soothing it with cool air before he gently bandaged each knee. When he was finished, he met her eyes, placing a light kiss to each bandage.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.” They’d just made love, but she couldn’t stop herself from blushing at the tenderness of the act.

This is what we do, she thought as Rex wriggled down to lay next to her. We fix each other up. We take care of one another.

Because we love each other.

Senna noticed Rex was holding out his arm in invitation. She took it, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder as he pulled her close.

“Is this alright?” she whispered.

“It’s perfect,” Rex replied, playing with her hair. “When I wake in the morning, you won’t be gone this time, right?”

Senna’s heart clenched with guilt. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But yeah, I’ll be here.” She snuggled closer, listening to the rhythmic beat of Rex’s heart as her cheek pressed against his chest. Her eyelids were already fluttering closed with a sudden drowsiness that she hadn’t felt in a long time, one that came with relief and allowing herself to not be on guard constantly. The voice in the back of her mind that usually would have been screaming at her to keep watch was silent. Just this once, she tossed caution to the wind.

Just for tonight.

I don’t think either of us could stay awake if we tried anyway.

Just this once.

She smiled as she inhaled deeply, smelling Rex’s skin.

“You’re stuck with me, Rex. Hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

He interlaced his fingers with hers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Oh believe me, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.” She was already snoring softly against his chest, so Senna never saw the way he looked at her in that moment, hardly felt the kiss he pressed to her forehead.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rex said quietly before drifting off himself.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @wolffegirlsunite @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #in command #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #post order 66 #captain rex #captain rex x oc #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x original female character #OC Senna Aven #slow burn #romance #friends to lovers #angst #whump

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whoppert · 2 months

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Sunna 8 (loki/reader) (stephen strange/reader)

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3087 words

warnings: the after effects of mind violation; vomit (not ED related); canon-typical violence.

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When I awake, it's deep into the night. The air was hot and muggy, and in my uneasy sleep I had almost garroted myself, my sheets coming untucked and twisted tightly around my middle. In a weak attempt to detangle myself, I roll too close to the edge of the bed, flopping onto the hard, wooden floor, my hands and knees screaming.

Why is everything such a mess? I think, pressing my face into the linen to muffle my groan.

The house is silent, overly so. Following Gorron’s advice, Wong had departed on some mission to find a mind magician good enough to help me and in the few days since that night I hadn’t seen Stephen at all. The risk of running into him had made me too anxious to leave my bedroom, so like the mature adult I am I resort to sneaking into the the kitchen for food. My headaches have gotten much worse, but I can’t face Stephen to get help. Stephen hasn't sought me out either. I guess he's trying to give me space.

AO3

Mercifully, despite the discomfort of the floor, it's still much cooler than the air.

“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter. Every time I think about it, an acute embarrassment hits me like a train. Why had I kissed him? Stephen was a friend trying to help me through what may be the worst time of my life, and I had been foolish enough think we were having a moment.

In my exhausted state, it's easy to just fall asleep on the floor.

What must have been a few hours later I am drawn from my slumber, nauseous and sweating. I'm up quicker than I can move my limbs, tripping over the sheets and producing a loud thump as I fall on my face, gagging and dizzy, but I free myself, bursting through the door to my ensuite, and vomit into the toilet. All I had been eating recently was cereal, and said cereal is being hurled up into the bowl. I'm shaking and shivering, arms resting on each side of the seat for support. The burn radiates through my aching chest, which seizes with every violent retch.

A hand pats me on the back, but I am too busy hurling my guts up to acknowledge it. It's joined by another hand which gathers my hair back, securing it in place. After a few moments of dry heaving and coughing, I spit out the last of the vomit and turn to find Wong at my side. He pushes a glass of water into my hand, and I gargled it.

“Brush your teeth,” Wong instructed, “do you think you could shower too?”

I nodded and he stood up, turning the shower on with magic and handing me my toothbrush, prepared with paste. Wong departed the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

The tile was cool beneath me and by the time I had stepped into the shower the water is too hot. When I finish, I pull the shower curtain back to find a clean towel and set of pajamas in the steamy room.

Stepping into my room to find the mess tidied, my bed made and the window open. If I had possessed more energy, I might have gawked at the sight.

Wong appears, coming through the door. “Sit.”

I do so, slumping into the armchair by the window to take advantage of the influx of cool air. Wong places a tray of porridge, fruit and a large glass of orange juice on the side table and my stomach audibly groans at the sight. The silver tray glints in the dull light.

“Eat.”

Wong waited in silence until I make it through the meal, before disappearing with the dishes and returning with a large drink bottle of chilled water.

“What have you been eating since I’ve been gone?” he asks, dropping into the other armchair with a sound that suggested he desperately needed to sit down.

“Mostly cereal,” I replied.

Wong sighs incredulously, “that’s all Stephen’s been feeding you?”

“Not strictly speaking.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

There are many ways that you can describe Wong. His body was made up of curves and soft lines, and yet every part of him radiates sharpness, not in an unfeeling way, but in the practical, no-nonsense way a scalpel does. The man across from me contains magnitudes, infinitely powerful, and yet gentle enough to handle Latpian moths. “I have been out chasing leads for days. I’m exhausted. I’m grumpy. Tell me what you mean right now.”

“I kissed Stephen.”

Wong blanched, “oh. Congratulations.”

“Are not necessary,” I press my face into my palms. “I thought we were- well I don’t know what I thought, but I must have misread the situation because he made it very clear that I had overstepped a boundary. He hasn’t spoken to me in days.”

Wong’s eyebrows knitted together, but not in sympathy as I had expected. Rather he looked annoyed.

“Sorry, that’s probably T.M.I.-”

“No, that’s not- so you’ve just been in your room this whole time I’ve been gone?”

I nod.

“And he hasn’t checked on you?”

I shake my head.

“At all?”

I repeated the action. I am getting the impression I have gotten Stephen into a lot of trouble.

“You’re incredibly ill and he’s too embarrassed to check on you?”

“I mean, it’s my fault too, I haven’t exactly sought him out.”

“That shouldn’t matter, you’re his responsibility to- he needs to grow up,” a groan, and a shaken head. “Can’t leave the house for one second without it all turning to chaos.”

“Where did you go?” I ask, desperate for a change in subject.

Wong took a deep breath, “searching for anyone that might be able to look through your brain and figure out who put the enchantment on you in the first place. I spoke to a great many mystics.”

“Did you find anyone?”

“Perhaps. It depends on your opinion.”

“I’m not sure I'm qualified.”

Leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his thighs, Wong begins, “Stephen and I have been searching for someone that might be able to help you, but we've had a… disagreement about how to proceed. Stephen has been making his own communications from the Sanctum to various magical beings, but truth be told, he has been unsuccessful. Wanda has vanished, Master Xiong is busy and Onye is off-realm,” he rubs his temples. “I took it upon myself to try a different path. I’ve visited Asgard, drawing up an agreement.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Wong raises his hand.

“What Loki did to you was- what I mean is that this is not something I am being flippant over. Stephen doesn’t know that I went to talk with Loki about this. In fact, he expressly forbade me from doing so. It is something we have clashed over.”

That’s why they were fighting.

“I disobeyed a command from the Supreme,” Wong sighs. “As far as the ethical ramifications of my actions... I will only bring Loki here if you give me permission, but before you make a decision, allow me to plead my case.” He pauses, waiting for my invitation, and I give it to him. “Loki, despite his faults, is one of the most powerful mind mystics in the realm. We might be able to find someone else that could do the work in your psyche, but we don’t know if they will be successful. I am concerned that waiting to act might have long-term consequences on your mind.”

“Well, that’s valid, I guess. I'm not mad that you talked to him or anything. I’m terrified about how this might affect me, and..” I trail off, searching for the right words to describe how I feel, an impossible task. “Ever since my rendezvous with Gorron, my perspective on the incident has shifted a little.”

“I didn’t know that Stephen had managed to secure a meeting with Gorron at such short-notice.”

How that little worm, pardon, grub, had such prestige amongst sorcerers, I will never know. “Yeah, I assumed that’s why you went to Asgard?”

“No, I must have departed before. What did Gorron have to say?”

It takes a few moments to get Wong caught up, but by the end of it, he looks thoughtful. “When I visited Asgard, I met with King Thor and told him your story. He was very sympathetic. A big focus of the new king has been maintaining good relations with Earth, so he called Loki to the throne room to defend himself.”

I listen intently.

"Loki insists that the damage was not his fault. He posits that he hasn't seen this happen in a thousand years of mind magic. He could have been lying, but with Gorron's confirmation... If you had not have this mystery enchantment place upon you, it's unlikely that Loki's involvement would have harmed you."

There is a potent mix of emotions swirling inside of me. On the one hand the idea of seeing Loki again, and allowing him such intimate reign over my head is nerve-wracking, but on the other hand, Wong has a point. For a second I swear I can feel Loki's cold hand on my arm.

"We can do it here, at the Sanctum?"

Wong nods.

"And Stephen?"

"You just focus on getting well."

"He's going to hate me if I agree to bring Loki back here."

"He does not hate you at all."

"I'm not happy about it, but I want Loki’s help.”

"There's more. Rather ambitiously, Thor is hoping to make Loki his ambassador to Earth. Something about a new era of public relations for Asgard."

"Well, if Loki is going to continue to act the way he does, they are going to have a hell of a time repairing his image."

"Quite," Wong agrees, "even though Loki wasn't at fault for your injuries, Thor was very angry for his involvement. He ordered Loki to help, and they argued as only brothers can, but Thor is his king, and his word is law bound in Odinmagic. There was some concession though. Loki was allowed to ask for something in return, something to make up for the inconvenience. An embassy, here on Earth."

There is a long pause before I get it. "Wait, here? The Sanctum?"

Wong cringes, "it was the only way to get him to agree. If he helps, Loki will have a right to this house for one year."

"Well, that sucks."

Wong stayed longer than expected, but the company was much appreciated. The sun was tugging at the edges of the sky by the time he departs. In the time I had known him, I had befriended a very unique version of Wong. I was essentially nothing to him, just a stranger from the street that had found their home at the Sanctum, much like a stray animal, and therefore there was little need to maintain his reputation. He is solemn, yes, but he is also friendly and incredibly fed up - all he wants is a little peace and quiet.

I pull myself together. This is my house too. Even if I had humiliated myself in front of Stephen, I can sit in the library. I probably won't even see him.

The artifacts drew me to the Sanctum, but it was the library that kept me hostage. Thousands upon thousands of books, crammed into the space, shelves teetering so dangerously they could only have been held up by magic. Unstable stacks taller than I am all over the floor. The arm chairs are comfortable, but in order to be a touch more conspicuous, I choose to sit at the bay window. It has a rich brown leather seat but with a pattern on its skin like peacock tail feathers; the hide of an animal I couldn’t identify. My favorite place to read. I selected the most interesting looking book from the pile stacked nearest, and settled in to read. The title is in cuneiform, but the gilded remnants of an old translation spell still lingered on the page.

Before long, I hear the soft padding of bare feet, and a freshly woken sorcerer appears, cutting through the library for quicker access to the kitchen. In his groggy state, Stephen didn’t notice me. The adrenaline rush subsides after a few minutes.

An hour passes, and I am stuck trying to decipher one line. If one cannot decide between the fruits of his labors and the cut of meat on the slab, the meat shall rot and become unclean. Since the beginning of living memory, the fruit has always been rancid. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Normally, Stephen helped with the indecipherable stuff. Even just talking it over helped. I debated whether the translation spell had become too worn to work correctly, the page didn’t seem to flow as it should.

Another set of footsteps echo through the library, and Stephen, who again hadn’t seemed to notice me, wanders in. He hovers at the bottom of one of the shelves, before the radiant glow of his magic floated him upwards out of sight. When he returned he held a book in his hands.

His feet made purchase with the ground and I watch him visibly tense as he notices me.

“How long have you been there?”

“All morning.” There it was again, that wave of embarrassment. I can’t believe I was so stupid to think that he might be interested in me. I turn my face back to the book to hide the blooming warmth there.

“Oh.”

There is a long awkward pause as he stands, watching as I clearly don’t continue reading. I try to focus my brain on the words, but I'm tired and my head throbs.

“How have you been feel-” but Stephen cut himself off when another presence joined us.

Wong and Stephen nod, but neither say anything.

The embarrassment in my gut turns to guilt. They weren’t talking because of me, because they’d had a fight about me.

Again no one spoke, and again no one was fooled by my reading act.

After what felt like an age, Stephen said, “well… back to work,” and walked out of the room rather stiffly.

Wong waits for the Sorcerer Supreme to be out of earshot before speaking. “Loki will be here soon. I need to know now if you’ve changed your mind.”

I shiver. “I haven’t, but what are you going to do about-”

“I will handle Stephen.”

The yelling tips off Loki's arrival.

Peeling out of the library and into the front room, I rush towards the sound, my stomach twisted in knots. I stop dead outside the door, which had been left carelessly flung open.

A glowing light is wrapped tight around Stephen’s fist and he swing at Loki, who doesn’t so much as flinch. Wong is between the pair in a second.

“What the fuck is he doing here, Wong?”

“I told you-” Wong began but was cut off.

“And I told you-”

No one seemed to notice my presence.

“So passionate, Strange,” Loki drawls, head cocked to the side, hands strung nonchalantly in his pockets.

Stephen lurches forward, but Wong holds him back with a palm on his chest.

“Careful,” said the prince, “don’t want to give the impression that you have other options. Might make me feel like I’m not needed here.” Despite the air of magic around him, Loki just didn’t seem to fit inside the Sanctum Sanctorum - his magic a different origin, of a different realm. Even with Stephen's threats, he's at ease.

“You aren’t needed here.”

“She’s only getting worse, Stephen," Wong interjects.

“He did this to her!”

"I did no such thing," Loki snaps, like the suggestion that he had caused this damage genuinely offended him. "Say it again and I will pull your tongue from your throat."

Wong ignores Loki. “He didn’t do this, Strange, and you know it. Gorron confirmed it.”

“He still forced himself into her mind-!”

"Yes, yes, he did," Wong appeals, "but she agreed to this. She wants to try."

“Shall I come back later?” Loki says with rolling eyes. “Wait until she’s on the verge of death? Until you have to come crawling on your hands and knees begging for my help to unscramble her mind? Leave it until then, and I'll say no, deal or no deal.”

For a second it was like everyone was frozen, and then a portal opens at Wong’s feet and he falls through before he can stop himself. A burst of orange the size of an anvil flies at Loki, who just managed\s to swipe it away at the last second. Loki sends the energy flying back at Stephen in razor-sharp shards of green. The shield absorbs most of the impact, but a few of the shards skate past Stephen, and through the open door towards me. I try to phases, but I just can't, can’t even move as I watch them fly at me almost in slow motion, growing larger and larger.

An open hand from Stephen sends a disk of energy at my torso, pushing me out of the way. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until the disk pushes the gasp from me, stumbling back several feet.

“Here is my patient now,” Loki turned smoothly on his heels. “A pleasure, as always.”

I didn’t greet him.

“Is it true? You agreed to this? To his help?” Stephen faces me, taking several steps towards me, his voice considerably quieter than moments ago. Hot anger had gone icy.

I nod, sheepishly.

The emotions that rolled across Stephen’s face were too quick for me to identify. His eyebrow raises, and he swallows whatever it was he was going to say and shook his head. “Fine.”

Behind him, Loki looks overjoyed with the drama, his emerald eyes bright with pure excitement. There is something about him that make it impossible to get a read on him, like a cat playing with its food, and it twists a knot in my stomach.

Am I making a mistake?

Stephen steps sharply away, arms folded against his chest and freeing up the direct line between Loki and myself. I try to make eye contact with Stephen, but he's too angry to look at me. It stings like a wasp.

After a few moments of silence, Loki clapped his hands together, delighted. “Right! Shall we begin?”

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#marvel au #loki #doctor strange #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #stephen strange #the avengers #loki series #multiverse of madness #loki odinson #stephen strange x reader #dr strange #wong

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thirstnotes · 1 year

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Jealousy

Pairings: Steve x Black Reader, One-Sided Bucky x Black Reader

Warnings: Smut (minors, DNI), vouyerism, jealousy, masturbation, fantasizing, Bucky Thirst, possibly darkish Bucky? I dunno, you decide

If you don’t like it, don’t read it.

I don’t write very much on here, mostly read, but since this talented ass writer (don’t wanna name any names but @ramp-it-up knows who she is) decided to hook me up and answer my ask in quite possibly one of the best ways possible, I felt the need to return the favor as best I could. Hope y’all enjoy it💖

"Mmm,” Y/N gasped, her head tossed back as her body tensed for an amazing climax, “I’m gonna….fuuuck!”

“Good girl,” Steve coaxed, his guttural groans vibrating through his tone. She certainly was a good girl. A good girl that absolutely took every inch of his cum. Bucky refused to believe anything otherwise. The heavy squeak of them going at it held his full attention, the soft groans of his Y/N as she pressed her face against the pillows in an effort to hush the pleased sounds from what she was getting from behind. It was cute that she thought it would. Positively sinful, the effect it had on him.

The raunchy slosh of his lubed hand roughly jerking his dick caught his attention again and he positively loved the mess he was making of lube and precum against strange sheets. He imagined her lapping at his dick as Steve rode her, her moist mouth needily desperately for something to suck. His dick pushing slowly into the warmth of her soft lips. The scrape of her teeth as he glided a generous length of his dick against the friction of her tongue…yummy..

His vibranium hand played with his balls, firmly stroking them and squeezing them to the point of making himself groan a bit. He wanted her to squeeze them. Let Steve watch as she sucked on them. Make him cum on her face from her rough treatment of them. Make Steve cum on her back from the sheer erotic sight of it all. Cover her in their cum.

Steve groaned softly as he usually did when she rode him, helpless and soft. Submissive and chill. It made him desperately want to be the dominant one in the room, commanding Y/N to get on her knees and take her boyfriend into her mouth while he fucked her pussy until it was aching from being slammed with orgasms.

His hand sloshed sloppily as a long string of swears slipped out in hungry hisses. “Mmhhhhyes babygirl. Take every inch of that cock. Fuck me good……you’re so fuckin good....Mmmm…” He was practically sobbing, it felt so good. They were filthy, that pair. They always did this to him. Every hotel room. Every fuckin stop. Pretending they didn’t want him to hear their raunchy groans. But they did. They knew he was stroking his dick. He liked to think they did anyway.

He liked to imagine Steve’s curious, jealous leering as Y/N wrapped her hands around his dick. To see him watch his girlfriend lick the tip of another man’s dick and pump his shaft to the very sight of it. Let him play with and taste her wet pussy while she writhed beneath his fingers-to dip his fingers into her. Make her taste herself while his best friend watched him dominate his girlfriend. Have her groaning in exhausted ecstasy, covered in fingerprints and his cum-

“Sssshit.....” he shuddered in a satisfied hiss, cum jerking from his dick and hitting his chest, face and pillow. His ragged breaths caught up with him as he stared at the ceiling, listening to them both come in the room next to him. Then it was mostly quiet. Save for the ringing in his ears from a positively powerful orgasm. He groaned a little and swallowed, shifting himself into a better position to slip into a good sleep for the night, listening to the low sound of their incoherent voices. He was a beautiful mess, covered in his own sick needy desperation for a woman he didn’t have. Would probably never have.

#marvel #reader insert #fanfic #bucky angst #steve x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #jealousy #steve x reader x bucky #one sided pining #thirstnotes

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the-sunshine-dims · 6 months

Text

Sweet Dreams Till You See Sunbeams

me me- when nightingstar actually <3

(book: 'Tales from Thicketdown Forest' by maddie an)

Ao3

Words: 4k

Summary:

The auras muttered tired words, asking if he was going to bed yet, If Aax and Caspian were back yet.

Another asked if he'd be going to Starbarks again, mostly a joke, but one clouded by the exhaustion of staying up.

And frankly, the idea sounded appealing.

No matter how much of a joke it was.

Probably the first thing that did.

(or, Rae, unwilling to sleep, sets about on hanging out in starbarks, sure he wont be caught with the late hour, but fortunately, luck isn't on his side (depends who you ask(maybe give him just a second and he'll change his answer))

Contents and Warnings: Pre-relationship Nightingstar, Sleep-deprived Rae, Fluff,

______

The stars shone brightly above Rae from where he stood on the porch. far into the middle of the night with the silence to match.

He wasn't unused to being around when no one else was. Him residing in his study and losing track of time far too commonly. And his sleep schedule being 'possibly worse than nonexistent' to quote Centross even more commonly.

But it was notable. The silence only welcoming the occasional cricket chirping its night melody.

He leaned onto the railing, mostly just watching.

Maybe it was worse when he knew he was too exhausted to even research- to pour himself into his work. No matter how he felt he should. Because he knew for a fact he'd make no headway, head not clear enough to truly think.

And yet the idea of sleep was more daunting than welcoming, the idea of nightmares, and possibly sharing them.

And maybe just sleep.

Even apart from the nightmares and possibilities. Just sleep.

Of having to lay down, no tasks, just alone in consciousness with his thoughts in the dark of the room.

The thought leaves him dreading.

He huffed a little. The chilled air sending what felt like spikes of ache into his lungs. Too cold and too thin apparently.

A little ironic given that that had been his best remedy a reset prior, the thing he could best recommend to Wolf given the same skulk problem.

Rae debates heading back into the study, warmer, but not by much. But that idea too, is unappealing. The idea of being surrounded by all of the balled-up notes he'd left in there, too frustrated, too wrong, too stupid.

And, that he could not stand to clean up right now, though maybe he should, with the time he had not doing anything else.

The auras muttered tired words, asking if he was going to bed yet, If Aax and Caspian were back yet.

Another asked if he'd be going to Starbarks again, mostly a joke, but one clouded by the exhaustion of staying up.

And frankly, the idea sounded appealing.

No matter how much of a joke it was.

Probably the first thing that did.

He'd not get coffee, not unless he was working on something, he cajoled himself. But still, having a place to be and not think about everything he didn't know, it sounded nice.

It also helped that it always smelled like warm treats there. Always a pleasant nut-meg and cinnamon smell wafting through the air.

He stepped away from the railing to face the stairs up the mountain, of which he got a perfect view of Starbarks just above their house.

"That's.. Actually, a pretty good idea," he addressed quietly, daring not to disturb the silence of the night.

They questioned a little, practically chirping out their confused words, but Rae just set out on walking, offering a hushed "Starbarks is a nice place to decompress" and nothing more.

The ones awake, and that was a concept he was sure, agreed a little. Before settling down.

It really was late.

He made his way through the path and started up the stairs, gasping a little at the repeated chill in his lungs as well as the further exertion. Maybe that was just going to be a pattern tonight, his lungs aching until he finally rested.

Still, He made it up just the same as he always had. Reaching the dog park, then the Starbarks then making it to the doors.

It did occur to him that the doors may not open. Rae couldn't even imagine any of the dog's Wolf assured him 'got benefits' were working, and usually he snuck in to grab coffee during its business hours.

Yet, as the handle turned, it did open and so that was all he could ask. stepping in quietly, and placing a hand under the bell as the door closed, just so Rae didn't wake the dogs that, yeah were asleep, hidden just out of view until he caught the tail peeking out from behind the counter.

He stepped a little closer, almost laughing at the little beds tucked neatly under the counter, names embroidered on them for the extra touch. That made it all the more silly because none of them were in the right ones besides tea who for all intents and purposes, chose to sleep outside.

Coffffffffee in the large Latte's bed, practically engulfing the small dog, even sharing it with the other moderately small Frappuccino. leaving the great Dane to fit haphazardly in the smallest dog’s bed, as well as using Frappuccino'a bed as a pillow, just for extra measure.

It was… incredibly silly, for lack of better words. But all of them were happily snoozing away so Rae didn't dare mess with them, he was pretty sure that may be illegal too?

Workers rights?

He, truly did not know, businesses were not his thing.

Rae settled in one of the seats in the back of the Starbarks, just to be on the safe side. And just sat back, taking in the instant warmth the Starbarks incased, warming his chilled skin. And the baked goods smell.

And Rae was sure he had nothing to think about. He had no energy- nor brain power. Nothing he wanted to think about anyway. Nothing that he could look into without the books in his study, which was probably for the best. And ultimately, nothing that was a problem. Especially nothing to warrant being thought about in the dim light of the Starbarks.

Nothing, his study a mess in a classic example of it.

Nothing,

He's sure, if he really wanted to he could probably think about a dozen other things. But those particular things he'd rather ignore, avoid, not think about nor panic about.

And so he didn't try, ignoring the distant familiar swirl of guilt pooling in his stomach. And instead, focusing elsewhere. Trying to get a moment of solace.

Of not having to think.

..He hadn't been a very good book club member, maybe he could catch up on the week’s book until he was ready to go back down to the house again. Or until the sun rose, and he figured he should probably not be caught.

That sounded nice.

Gods, it's been a while since he was able to just read something that didn't require urgency.

He pulls out one of the shulkers, searching the sack beside him as he looked for said book, because he was pretty sure he had a copy in it, far neglected, but still in it all the same.

He grabbed blindly at a couple different blank covered books before finally finding it, and fighting a silent cheer as he pulled it out with little flair. Catching attention.

"Wait- Rae?"

Rae jolted. swirling around in the seat suddenly, book in hand. And coming face to face with Wolf, un-masked face twisted in a concoction of surprise and worry.

Crap.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

"...hi Wolf"

Wolf raised his eyebrow, and Rae just offered his most appeasing smile, mostly doing nothing more than looking like a guilty cat.

"Didn't hear you come in..?" He adds and Wolf just presses his lips together in a thin line.

"Yeah, I noticed- I didn't even stop the bell..?" And Rae just feels a new layer of sheepish, wow, he should've heard that.

That seemed like a pretty distinct noise..

Was he really that engrossed in searching through his books? Or was his attention just that lacked?

"I- was just a little.. distracted?" Rae tried.

And Wolf just blinked at him slowly

"Look- it's late!" He defends weakly, not making any points in his favor.

"It is." Wolf agrees, "I was only coming to grab something I'd forgotten, you look like you were getting ready to settle in" he points out,

And Rae shrinks back a little, "I can leave-?" He mumbles, and instantly Wolf's face softens.

"Now I didn't say you had to do that, just-" he grabs the back of the chair next to Rae and sits down, changing directions as he faced to look at Rae "-what's going on?"

"Why does something have to be going on?" Rae asked

Wolf once again blinked at him, but it didn't quite hold the same effect, though similar "you're sitting in Starbarks at gods know what hour" he pointed out deadpan, before again going softer, "is something going on?"

"..Not this time." Rae muttered. Because okay, he couldn't sleep, but that wasn't 'something going on' for all intents and purposes, everything was fine. And he wasn't even being flippant!

No bad interactions, not.. A lot of overthinking, especially not for him. Nothing he knew Wolf would count as a 'something'!

It wasn't a great evening, but it was by no means a bad one.

"Okay," Wolf relented, "still, can I ask why you're at Starbarks- again your welcome here- but coffee at this hour, really?" He asked, eyebrows pinched together, now in slightly less of concern- though Rae knew that was still evident in his two-toned eyes. And more of general confusion, and maybe a little mirth.

"I wasn't coming for the coffee!" Rae defended quickly, "I still have some even!" He says to make his point further and Wolf raises an eyebrow "I just.. Wanted to sit down for a minute and read.. something that wasn't related to everything, and.. urgently important?" he tried, trying to press down how.. selfish? it sounded to his ears.

"Oh" Wolf said, blinking, rerouting his train of thought. Before nodding, “that's a good idea”

and then pausing for a minute once again, though this time much more amused "Rae.. "

"Wolf..?"

“We have a loft, specifically to read books”

“”Oh,” Rae blinked, parsing his brain for the same information as it clicked. "Right."

And suddenly Wolf was up with a laugh and trying to drag Rae up with him, Rae’s mind falling behind at the quick movements “oh- wait where are we going?"

Wolf gestured vaguely ‘up’ and Rae floundered a second before simply accepting it, not questioning it further and instead snatching up his shulker before Wolf made him leave it. Soon being led pointedly past the other chairs, then right.

Which made little- and then quickly, a lot of sense. When they passed the counter and got to the ladder, Rae's mind slowed with fatigue.

"In my defense I didn't want to disturb the dogs!" Rae whispered in a hushed tone, still defending himself, before getting properly shushed as Wolf gestured him up with a smile.

"You're getting the proper book Starbarks experience!" Wolf whispered in a similarly hushed tone, following him up once Rae had reached the top.

Rae huffed a laugh, "I was happy down there too"

"Okay, but have you considered the whimsy of the book nook?" he gestured around, standing up.

Rae breathed out a light "okay" that turned more into a lighthearted laugh, as he looked around. And he'd seen the room many times before during the book clubs he'd attended. But it did, somehow feel more cozy in the dim. Blankets scattered around littering the couches, likely from momboo's shift.

And the café downstairs was still incredibly nice, but Rae was almost mad at how quickly he was convinced, because it was, really, really nice.

"Okay, I will admit it, it is pretty whimsical" Rae sighed fondly.

Wolf nodded seriously, face wrinkling with a barely suppressed smile.

"It is, it is" he nods, and Rae really can't help but smile with him.

Wolf directs Rae to sit down on the couch as he lights a fire and Rae can't help but shake his head fondly as he does, settling the book on the side table as he watched.

Left for only a second to his own devices to twiddle his thumbs and using it. Rae thinks about the circumstances for just a moment. And he laughs, briefly getting a glance from Wolf, "I really spent no time in the starbarks before I got corralled into the book nook, I'd barely gotten my book!" He chuckled. and Wolf laughed with him, short amused breaths. simply uttering a simple "damn, should've started in the book nook then, I guess," voice only teasing, as he continued placing the wood in the fireplace.

Rae could only laugh more as he went back to watching.

And, when it settled, embers worked red. The fire warm and bright, and somehow it keeps amazing him how nice it is.

And Wolf really was right.

Maybe he should spend more sleepless nights here he thinks, another mostly-a-joke thought that he was well aware could turn less so.

It's not a surprise from Wolf of course that it's so cozy, but it's just impressive. And Wolf stands back a little to gaze at his work proudly, as he should.

Before moving to sit by Rae.

And Rae probably shouldn't have been, probably wouldn't be normally. But he seemed to have trouble thinking in general, he's finding. Because he is firmly caught off guard. It was late! Rae was just unable to sleep! It wasn't Wolf’s problem! "Wolf- you don't need to stay with me, I'll be fine, I've been placed. I'm just going to read! I'm fine," he assured.

Wolf hums, considering the words for only a moment. "Well, actually, maybe I just want to appreciate my fire skills," he said, sinking into the couch next to him regardless. And Rae has to repress furrowing his eyebrows as well as the ‘doesn't the fire bother you?’

"Now, what book are you reading?" Wolf asked. Moving the conversation along smoothly.

And maybe it really is a show of the somehow worsening exhaustion that Rae doesn't put up any further fight as he just shakes his head, shoulders sagging, and goes "the one for book club actually," he briefly turned the book over to read the cover "The 'Tales from Thicketdown Forest?'"

"Oooh, good good," Wolf nods, "very good choice" he tells him seriously and Rae just huffed a laugh.

"Oh, of course" Rae nods, continuing the bit just a little before shaking his head fondly once again. Picking up the book from the table and deciding for a moment before tentatively leaning onto Wolf's side, back meeting shoulder.

Wolf didn't say anything and so Rae just relaxed, pulling an abandoned blanket over their legs, and just settling in.

Maybe Wolf would go back home soon, sleep.

Or maybe he wouldn't, Rae not able to non-hypocritically say anything regardless.

Rae had no sway.

…

He shouldn't not want him to leave. He shouldn't just want the presence, the warmth emanating through his back.

He should want Wolf to go back home and get some sleep. Even if it was away from him.

He doesn't though. If Rae was honest, with himself at least. Finding comfort in the man’s presence alone.

Rae parsed the lines in the book. Wolf leaning his head onto Rae’s, narrowly avoiding the pair of stacked horns. watching the stars, or maybe the fire, Rae unable to tell with the flicking of his attention. Rae briefly allowing himself to be drawn into the contents of the story. finger tracing under the words as he read.

He paused momentarily, thinking for just a second.

"You alright, Rae?" He felt rumble from the man behind him and he turned his head in confusion.

"What?"

"You stopped reading," Wolf supplied only.

What? Rae's mouth moved to repeat, how could he tell?

How was he always able to tell?

And yet just as the words were about to come out, Wolf answered "You breathe differently when you're reading" he tried, before clarifying quickly, "it's not super noticeable, but when you're reading or writing.. You almost hold your breath?" He told him casually, "And you stopped."

Rae processed that for a moment, rolling it over in his mind as a slow embarrassed magenta spread through his cheeks and to the tips of his ears "...wait.. That's not fair..!"

Wolf pulled back and tilted his head, and Rae just flushed further. Turning his head away, though not by much and pressing his face into his hands.

"I was just- agh- it's not fair you can tell!" Rae declared, voice cracking at the end in pure embarrassment the more he thought about it.

Wolf smiled, eyes softening with mirth and cheeks wrinkling, "why not?"

All that came out with a frustrated "Mm!" Promptly followed by an equally frustrated "because!" not able to find a solid reason really besides it was mortifying that he had a noticeable tell of when he was reading or not. Though he was probably more embarrassed then it actually called for. Wolf laughed, arms shifting with the weight of it.

And Rae briefly took fondness in watching, eyes peeking over his fingers, light-hearted complaints and noises silenced as he just looked at him. Wolf's whole face just illuminating in cheer, truly only slightly dampened by the offense of being known so well.

Rae hadn't even realized, did he really do that? Has he always? He knew he sometimes hummed- Caspian had pointed that out long ago but-

What did Wolf even mean??

He grumbled a little bit, only seeming to fuel Wolf's light-hearted laughter. And how did he make the room feel warmer with his laugh, that shouldn't be possible.

He turned his face back down into his hands to properly grieve any remaining dignity.

And eventually, done with teasing his.. friend, Wolf just huffed one last laugh, watching and letting Rae's flush wear down before getting back onto topic.

"Anyway, what were you thinking about?" Wolf asked and Rae slowly unhid his face, blinking a little to adjust for the firelight.

"Oh right- I just- I realized you didn't have anything to really do and I wondered if you wanted me to read it aloud so you could at least listen?" Rae suggested, and Wolf blinked.

"Oh yeah!" Wolf accepted "Book moment!" he declared. Getting more comfortable instantly as he swung his legs over onto the couch, and pressed himself back into the couch arm, briefly dislodging Rae as the shorter man huffed a laugh.

Rae followed quickly after, shuffling back, now practically nestled between the couch and Wolf's chest. Dragging the blanket along, and settling it neatly over their legs.

Rae opened the book once more, thumbing the pages to get back at the beginning, and humming in satisfaction when victorious.

Rae took a breath, hoping beyond hope his lungs had no issue with him reading for prolonged periods of time. Before starting, finger still tracing the words as he read.

"Most people today" Rae started slowly "live in big cities. Big, bustling areas with lots of concrete and people living on top of each other. And everybody knows how to get around and everybody says hi to their neighbors."

Wolf followed the words with a nod, and Rae settled further into his little nook.

"Some people live in smaller towns. Smaller, not quite as bustling areas, with fewer buildings and people live a little farther apart." Rae breathed. "But everybody knows how to get around and everybody says hi to their neighbors."

Wolf shifted just a little to undo Rae's hair-tie, before neatening the mess of raven hair with his hands as he gathered it up, receiving a brief look and "wha-?" From Rae before just waving him back to the book with a "don't worry about it, continue"

Rae sighed, partially aware of a plot rising as Wolf parted the hair in three, but no energy to stop it.

Still, He did as requested and continued "Almost no one lives in the middle of nowhere." Rae spoke, "One minuscule area with one building and only one person living miles away from everyone else."

Wolf dragged his fingers through his hair. just once more, taming any excess strays. Before moving to plait them. Left side over, middle replacing it. Right side over, middle replacing it.

"But usually, they know how to get around and would still say hi to their neighbors, if they had them." Rae yawned, relaxing further.

Wolf continued, gently twisting the pattern, intertwining. One, two, one, two.

"But no one lives" Rae yawned, lungs protesting less with the increased breaks, increased time to breathe. "in the Thicketdown Forest. There are no buildings and no people."

Wolf held the sections tuat as he worked his way down slowly. so it wouldn't come undone while he was working on the braid.

"Nobody really knows how to get around and there are no neighbors to say hi to..." Rae blinked slowly, eyelids feeling heavy as he sagged into the other man, just breathing for a moment. Plot working smoothly.

"Most people who wander into Thicketdown Forest stay for a while," Rae yawned, them coming too often for comfort, "walk around, then go back to their homes." Rae read.

Wolf worked his way to the bottom, done with the plaiting as he tied the red hair-tie once again in Rae's hair to hold it together.

"Some stay a little longer and set up temporarily…." Rae's eyes closed, just for a minute, Wolf keeping an eye on it. Before Rae blinked them open again, and did his best to continue. figuring out where he was quickly.

"Places… to stay.." he yawned, "but know very little about how to get around.."

Then, Wolf took a gentle hand of tucking the remaining pieces of hair- mostly face-framing pieces, behind Rae's ears as they began falling into his face. Causing a nuisance of themself. And Rae's eyes slipped shut again, head almost lolling to the side, as his arm barely stayed where the words were. Before he shook himself back awake stubbornly. Though barely, eyes not opening more than a squint.

"They normally.. know.. By the trees.." Rae blinked, voice barely working with him, trying too hard to continue reading, though the words looked more muddled now, having to squint further to try and decipher the letters.

A small voice in the back of his head, or maybe next to it, whispers that he should just rest his eyes, that it’ll be there in the morning. And suddenly that sounds so nice, even just for a minute.

He rests his head on Wolf. hand going slack with the book collapsing into the blanket, Wolf gingerly placing it onto the side table behind them.

And it's just warm.

The fire crackles- it more embers now than anything truly fire-like, or warmth-providing. Causing a gentle background noise.

And even if it isn't the fire, it's just warm.

And Rae’s out like a light.

Wolf huffs a fond laugh, wrapping an arm around Rae and he considers briefly trying to carry him down to his house. Try to get Rae to sleep in the comfort of a bed. But the amount of stairs, while possible, made Wolf decide against it, not willing to wake up the exhausted scientist.

And he doesn't consider leaving him in the loft. not for a second. And so, Wolf just settled with him, whispering a soft "sleep well, starlight" as he made sure he was tucked in. Before turning his attention out-word.

Watching the embers, making sure they die down. Watching the night sky.

Just watching. Protecting.

Until his vision fails too, sometime later, though not too much. The embers gone, all light apart from the stars in the sky, gone.

And maybe Wolf blinks just a little too long, as he falls asleep too, weariness not on his side, as it never is.

And so, there the two sleep. Peacefully, for a change. nightmares not daring to touch the pair of them.

Not daring to touch the fragile tranquility they found themselves in.

And when awoken, after a many hours of restful slumber. It is to the sunbeams of a new, easier day, shining through the balcony.

Easier with a good start in the pair’s pockets at least.

#the cold one writes #fsmp #wolf nightingale #rae morningstar #fable smp fic

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thebiscuiteternal · 2 years

Note

"Alternate version of the above: anyone wishing to marry into the inner family of the Nie must spend a night in the saber tomb, where their intentions for the marriage are judged by the saber spirits. How much their partner loves them doesn't factor into it, it all rests on whether their feelings are considered pure enough." cql verse, that asshole commander locks meng yao in the tombs as a prank, and the sabers judge him worthy even before he's aware of his feelings?

....ooooh.

---------

He doesn't know how long he's been trapped, but it's been long enough that he has mostly ruined his voice screaming for help and his fingers are bruised and bloody from clawing at the stone doors in a futile attempt to find a way to open them from the inside.

Shivering from the chill of the tomb and feeling lightheaded from the combined fear, exhaustion, and a hunger he hadn't noticed right until his stomach growls, he sinks down to huddle against the doors.

...

There is something else in here with him.

The realization makes his skin prickle, every hair standing on end.

There is something else in here with him, and he has absolutely nothing to defend himself with, that asshole having divested him of everything down to the weakest light talisman before throwing him in.

Now fighting back tears and shaking enough that he has to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering, he presses himself flat against the doors as the something gets close enough that he swears he can feel its breath ruffling his hair as it-

-sniffs him?

'He smells like the little cub,' a low, female voice says, sounding like it's reverberating within his own skull.

'But he didn't come here willingly,' another, male voice says. 'That's unusual.'

'Does he even know there's a claim?" asks a third voice, also male.

A claim?

A different female voice chuckles, the sound sending a chill up his spine. 'Oh, the poor thing has no idea.'

'But there is a claim. And he is here,' yet another male voice says. 'He will have to be judged, same as any others.'

Judged?

"I don't know what's going on," he says, his voice trembling in his mouth sounding wrong in his ears. "What am I being judged for?"

The ice-cold darkness swallows him up, cutting off his voice before he can scream.

---

He is in Nie Huaisang's room, the young master in question carefully kneading salve into his hands to help speed-heal the bruises and cracked open callouses he had from a very long day of trying to handle a sword with hands used to other kinds of labor.

He is in the market, and though he's already finished fetching what his sect leader actually sent him for, he doesn't mind lingering a little longer, watching Nie Huaisang inspect bolts of fabric with a critical eye. The other boy waves him over to ask his opinion, genuinely ask his opinion, then smiles brightly and grabs the one he chooses.

He is in the aviary, and the birds have grown so comfortable with him that they beg him for treats just as shamelessly as they do their owner, happily fluffing themselves as they settle on his shoulders and in his lap, and Nie Huaisang laughs at the picture they make before grabbing his drawing book.

He is in-

He is-

Flickering memories, all held together by a thread of strange, aching fondness, and a heavy weight in his head, as if his eyes aren't the only ones seeing this.

What is-?

---

"Meng Yao!"

"Yao-ge!"

It's hard to open his eyes. They feel all gummy and crusted closed.

He flinches when something touches his face, but it's nothing more than a cold, wet cloth.

"Easy does it, Yao-ge. Just keep your eyes closed until I've gotten all the blood off."

Blood? Had he worked himself up so much he'd qi deviated?

Large hands lift him up from where he'd been lying on the cold stone floor and rearrange him to sit. One closes around his wrist, and he feels the warm wisp of his meridians being checked.

"Damn. You're definitely going straight to the healers."

The cool rim of a water jar presses against his mouth and he drinks desperately until his mouth and throat are no longer too dry to form words. "How- how did you find me?" he rasps.

The question draws an uncomfortable silence.

Then Nie Mingjue sighs. "Well, since you're here already, you might as well know. Fuqin used the broken wards to contact us and warn us that Nie Zhen had dragged someone up here."

He finally manages to crack his eyes open to find that both of them are wearing -uncharacteristically for Nie Huaisang- matching grim expressions. "Your father's dead."

"He is," Nie Mingjue agrees.

"So is everyone else here," Nie Huaisang says. "That doesn't stop them from involving themselves in certain things."

He involuntarily shivers as he remembers the voices telling him that he was going to be judged for... something.

Had... had that actually happened? It hadn't just been hallucinations brought on by the dwindling air in the chamber?

He swallows hard, but before he can ask, Nie Huaisang gently takes hold of his hands. "Can you walk out to the horses?"

He looks down at his legs, willing himself to get up, but he might as well be trying to command jelly. "I don't think so."

"Alright, then," Nie Mingjue says, then unceremoniously picks him up to walk outside, Nie Huaisang falling in beside them, still holding one of his hands.

Meng Yao swears he hears an amused murmur of many voices as the stone doors close behind them.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #sangyao #fanfic

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bitsy83 · 2 years

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Sick Day (Bruno and Elena dabble)

In honor of my dear fellow Brunoholic, @prophetic-hijinks, _who is currently going through Covid, I thought she could use a little cheering up with this idea I came up with today. Speedy recovery, hon!

(A tad NSFW near the end, but nothing past a PG rating, honestly. Enjoy!)

*********

Elena HATED being sick! It was right up there with hecklers at her performances and stuck-up women who looked down on her for being a lounge singer. She first noticed she was coming down with something when she was sent home during rehearsal for warbling off key. Not only did she have a frog in her throat; she had the whole stinking pond!

It just kept going downhill from there. Her head got stuffed up, her nose ran like a faucet, every inch of her ached, and she couldn't go five minutes without coughing. She groaned as she took another tentative sip of her lemon and cayenne tea (a remedy given to her by one of the nuns who raised her). The herbal elixir seemed to clear her sinuses and soothe her throat for a few moments at a time, but the relief was always short-lived.

Pulling the blankets closer to her body, she braced herself for another coughing fit. She always found it ironic that someone running a fever could still have chills. While she had no appetite, she would've given anything for a hot bowl of chicken soup. Or a hot toddy, whatever did the trick. Unfortunately, she was so fatigued that anytime she got up to go into the kitchen, she'd get dizzy and slump back down into bed.

"That settles it," she grumbled, running her well-used tissue under her nose. "I'm dying..."

Just then, a knock was heard at the front door.

"Whaa..." slurred Elena, struggling to get herself out of bed and see who was visiting her. It was a miracle she didn't topple down the stairs with how dizzy she felt. Did Hugo stop by to check on her? Maybe it was Tito looking for a place to hide while the cops were looking for him? Or some door-to-door salesman with an overly expensive vacuum that he would insist a "lovely lady" like herself desperately needed. (If it were a salesman, she had a nose full of snot waiting to fire).

"Who is it?" she wearily croaked, doing her best to look through the peephole.

"E-Elena?" said a familiar voice on the other side. "It's me, Bruno. Did I come at a bad time?"

Elena gasped. "Bruno?!? W-what are you *cough* doing here?"

Without fully unlocking the door, Elena opened it just enough to see none other than Bruno Madrigal standing sheepishly outside the door. He wore one of his button-down green shirts decorated with hourglasses, brown slacks with sandals, and his hair pulled back in a ponytail (which she always loved). He was holding a colorful bouquet of flowers and had a brown knapsack slung across his chest.

Bruno seemed a bit surprised by Elena's question. "I, uh...weren't we supposed to meet this weekend?"

Elena knew they had made plans weeks ago to spend the weekend together in the city. Surely, it wasn't that time already? She went to look at her calendar sitting next to her coatrack. She groaned, running her hands through her hair. It was that time already! How could she have let that slip her mind?

""Bruno," she moaned as she went back to the door, still keeping it mostly locked. "Bruno, I'm so so sorry, but I can't have any visitors right now."

Fortunately, Bruno didn't look disappointed, but highly concerned. "Oh Elena! Mi Elena perfecta, what's wrong?"

"I...I...ACHOO!" was all she could utter. Elena slammed the door and block the sneeze, which immediately sent her into a coughing fit. She sank to her knees and tried to compose herself enough to speak to Bruno again. She was so exhausted she couldn't find the strength to get back to her feet.

Just then, the mail slot popped open and she bent down to see Bruno's beautiful hazel eyes looking back at her, filled with loved and compassion.

"Uh...a little under the weather?" he chuckled.

"That's putting it lightly," she sneered. "Bruno, sweetie, you should just head back home. I don't want you wasting your weekend with a plague victim."

"Actually, I think I have something that might help," said Bruno, then closed the small metal door.

Elena shook her head. "Bruno, what I need right now is a coffin because I'm pretty sure I'm on death's door." Normally, Elena wasn't always so morbid with her humor, but being sick brought the worst out in her.

The mail slot opened up again and this time, a small arepa was sticking out of it. "Here," said Bruno. "Take this! It'll do the trick."

If Elena hadn't already been breathing through her mouth, her jaw would've dropped. "Bruno, I'm really not that hungry..."

"Just eat it!" Bruno insisted. "Trust me on this, please!"

Elena was too tired to argue, so she weakly accepted the offering. She took a bite out of the doughy snack, fighting the pain in her throat as she swallowed. She was really hoping she wouldn't add vomiting to the list of symptoms.

And then, something extraordinary happened. She...started feeling better. First, her throat was no longer scratchy or sore. Her body aches faded into nothing. Not only did her nose stop running, but her sinus cavity completely cleared! She felt life seeping back into her system as each sickly symptom vanished. Before she knew it, she felt perfectly normal, as if she hadn't spent the last 24-hours planning her funeral!

But how was this possible? She looked down at the arepa Bruno had given her. It tasted fine, even if it was a bit stale. Nothing seemed different about it, yet taking one bite seemed to reinvigorate her entirely.

"Elena? Did it work?" Bruno called. "Did you eat the arepa?"

Scrambling to her feet, Elena leapt up and quickly unhooked the locks. She flung open the door to see a startled-then-pleased Bruno.

"Bruno!" she exclaimed, pointing to the food. "H-how!?!"

Bruno chuckled, letting himself in. "You can thank Julieta for that."

"But how did you know I was sick?"

"I didn't. Juli always packs me a few of those before I come to the city. She makes sure there's enough for both of us in case we need them."

Bruno then held out the exotic bouquet to Elena who accepted them graciously. "Isabela is responsible for these. She suggested I give you a cactus, but there was no way I was carrying one of those on the bus."

Elena felt her eyes water and this time, it wasn't from being sick. She threw her arms around Bruno's neck, planting to large kisses on his cheek. "If you aren't just what the doctor ordered!"

Bruno just giggled and returned the hug.

Elena then saw herself in the mirror hanging in the foyer. While she was now perfectly healthy, her hair looked like a rat's nest and her dressing gown and robe were as wrinkled as an old lady.

"Ugh, look at me," she said, fussing with herself. "I look like what the cat dragged in and the dog chewed up! If you give me about twenty minutes, I'll get cleaned up and then we can go get some lunch. My treat, of course. Be right back!"

Just as she was about to head upstairs, Bruno gently snatched her wrist, pulling her back. "Now now, hold on!" he said coyly, "I, uh, don't think you're fully healed."

"I-I'm not?"

"Oh no. There's a good chance those nasty germs are still lurking inside you somewhere." Before Elena could object, Bruno scooped her up into his arms and waggled his eyebrows at her mischievously. "I think...we need to get you right to bed."

Elena giggled and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, now that you mention it..." She gave a small fake cough, then fondled with Bruno's shirt collar. "You know, I have some ointment upstairs to rub on my chest. Helps with the coughs. Mind giving me a hand with that...doctor?"

She grinned as Bruno shuddered happily. "Absolutely." He then leaned in and kissed her lips softly.

"Don't worry, mi vida," he said softly. "I'll take care of you."

"You always do..." Elena sighed dreamily and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her to the bedroom.

#elena ruiz #bruno encanto #bruno madrigal #encanto #encanto dr #bruno x oc #fic for a friend #gift fan fic #prophetic hijinks

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ollypopwrites · 2 months

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Ch. 4 Damage Gets Done

Words: 4.8k

Pairing: Gale x Named Female Tav

Rating: M (I personally think it's a T but just to be safe lol)

Summary:

Warnings: language, misunderstandings/miscommunication (I know I hate it too, just stick with me), jealousy, mentions of Mystra and how creepy she is, thoughts of death and dying (cuz its Gale).

Notes: It's time to yearn, boys.

You can also Read on Ao3!

Since the time she had learned how, Isra occasionally liked to wildshape to sleep. If her bed was some particularly uncomfortable ground, being a small animal provided a way of burrowing around and finding comfort. Or if she was cold, she could transform into something with fur and be mostly unbothered by the chill for a while as she slept. It had been such a night the first time she encountered Gale by the campfire, half expecting him to realize it was her immediately. Maybe it was the wine she could smell on his breath that night, but he did not catch on.

And when he first petted her, the intoxication of touch from him, despite her wildshaped form, overwhelmed her.

If she was honest she could not remember the last time she had been given such gentle affections, and her body ached for more. And he seemed pleased to have a friend, something she could not provide the same way after showing him her feelings for him in the Weave. He had pushed her away and though it hurt, she had allowed him his space. Gale had courted a goddess and how could she or any mortal ever compare? He was always talking of her, or creating simulacrums of her visage, and constantly channeling the weave of which Mystra intrinsically was made of.

Both Selune and Eilistraee had been as dear to her as such far removed entities could be since she had emerged from the Underdark with her parents. That first night topside as a little girl, when she looked up and saw the beautiful silver orb of light, she had been moved to tears. It followed her and guided her as she traveled, and she had felt the presence of the deity gentle and comforting — what would it feel like to be scooped up and held in either of their embraces? She could hardly fathom the idea of it.

Gale and Mystra’s was a strange dynamic, one that made Isra’s stomach turn. But as she had told Shadowheart, whose Goddess was diametrically opposed to her own, Isra never found it to be her place to speak on someone else’s faith. She was no crusader or missionary, she was just a girl who loved the moon. Who was she to impede on the love affair of a mortal man and his goddess?

Despite it being sneaky and a bit dishonest, she thought the guise of ‘Vesper,’ as he called her cat form, was a decent compromise. Selfishly, she got to steal time with him, and although it created an entirely self-inflicted new form of pining, he got the gift of ignorance of her pain and a friend.

If anything, she should have known her luck was running out the day they took on the goblin outpost and freed Halsin. She had kept track of time, taking into account her exhaustion from the fight earlier in the day and left Gale’s side before her spell would have given out. Even better, he had been sleeping when she left.

As she exited his tent, however, she forgot to take into account the nightly watch. So distracted by her own thoughts of Gale and trying to remember exactly how it felt to be held by him, to carry the feeling with her to her bedroll — she dropped the wildshape spell halfway to her tent.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

It was Shadowheart. By the fire for her watch, with an eyebrow raised, lips perked up into a teasing smile and laughter dancing behind her eyes. Isra froze before immediately hiding her face behind her hands.

“Fucking hells, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes,” Shadowheart joked back, her voice at least quiet.

“Please — just — gods, don’t tell anyone.”

“I thought he had finally lost it,” Shadowheart said, “talking about a mysterious house cat no one has ever seen before.”

Isra was panicking, kicking herself; the whole thing was stupid to begin with and she had to be dumb enough to get caught on top of it.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Shadowheart assured her. “Consider us even for the nautiloid.”

“I hardly think saving your life is equal to -“

“Oh, shall I tell him then?”

“No!” Isra hissed. “No. Fine. Even. That’s it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Vesper.”

Yet, this close call was not enough to make her give up being close to him. Isra had hoped to keep it going until they went to the Underdark where she could simply stop and he could believe his new feline friend was safe somewhere on the top ground. She knew she was selfish, but she promised herself that she would stop before the real damage was done.

However, she lost track of time. She used to be able to take any animal form for an entire night but with the tadpole she seemed to be starting all over. Two hours was what she could manage now.

And now she was here, in his tent, halfway in his lap with her secret out in the open to the one person she dreaded finding out.

“Fuck.”

Gale’s expression was hard to decipher but it was not a happy one and she wanted to flee. He was grimacing, eyes tightened so the vague crows feet at the corners were more pronounced than usual. He had said her name with such a sharp intensity that made her stomach drop.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry Gale, I - “ I wanted to be close to you, I wanted to hear your dumb hums of interest as you read something interesting, I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. She felt tears pricking her eyes, half mortification and half overwhelming guilt. “I should go.”

“I believe that would be best,” he replied and then grunted, as if physically pained.

Isra turned tail and ran, not caring if anyone saw her leave his tent.

Luckily, there was little time for personal concerns the next day, given that they were moving into a new territory. Everyone did their part as they moved camp as a whole and headed to the Underdark, scouted out a good spot to call home base for the time being and settled in.

The Underdark was just how she remembered it. Damp, gloomy, and although not without its own beauty, a generally dreary place. She immediately missed the big open sky with her beloved moon, and fresh air of the forest. Few of them had journeyed down below the surface before, so she took her time to remind everyone of the basic rules of the Underdark. She provided them all jugs, telling them that if they came across fresh water to bottle as much as possible. She warned them not to get separated, to keep a keen eye out for creatures in dark spaces and most importantly to watch their step. A tumble there would prove fatal.

Astarion kept looking at the stone ceiling, and she lamented with him the loss of the sky. Karlach was eager to get moving, just to get out of there quicker. The others seemed fine, Wyll’s spirits were not weakened, Shadowheart found the place fascinating (despite their entrance via a Selunite stronghold), Lae’zel wondered aloud what strange beasts she could decapitate and mount, all while Gale seemed quietly studious. Halsin had joined them as well, and he was adamant this route was safer than the mountain pass. She was willing to brave it, the Underdark was treacherous but it had once been her home. She knew she could lead them through it.

Isra had chosen to not bring Gale along for the first few ventures further into the dark, opting to give him his space after they had been explicitly avoiding each other. Shadowheart, Karlach and Astarion had been her team, who all had their obvious advantages in the dark spaces. After assisting a lovely myconid colony with some invasive duergar and gathering some information about Absolute cultists deeper in the Underdark, they decided to visit a mysterious abandoned wizard’s tower.

It was supposedly the place to find some materials needed by a friendly refugee mind flayer in order to do some research on their unusual tadpoles. When she discussed her plan and her party, no one seemed to protest (besides Lae’zel who reminded her a ghaik had gotten them into this mess in the first place) and they planned to head out after another night of rest. At camp, she settled in to work on some alchemy with the new extractions she had made of some of the plentiful mushrooms of the Underdark.

Every once in a while she glanced up around the camp, everyone was getting along, although most of them had taken to whispering as if something was on the verge of finding them and leaping out of the shadows. Karlach’s gleeful laughter broke the spell at something Astarion said, echoing off the walls and it made Isra smile. She caught the eyes of Gale who was watching her and she immediately looked away from him and back to her task.

It had been days since her secret was exposed, days of pushing the thought out of her head, avoiding him beyond what was polite and he had done the same. Circe slithered up her back, coiling around her shoulders and resting her head down, offering a welcome distraction as she continued her work. They chatted about the day, Circe casually mentioning that she seemed to be avoiding the resident wizard.

Isra was grateful no one else could understand the snake as she brushed off the comments. So caught up in her task of extracting essences and not allowing Circe to extract any information from her, she did not hear the footsteps approaching her.

“Do you have a moment?”

Gale had gotten little sleep the night of the revelation. The orb ached in his chest, and the absence of Vesper now that her true identity was revealed felt like a heavier loss. She was clearly mortified, he was certain she was near bursting to tears when she realized she was found out and he wanted to go tell her not to worry herself. He wanted to offer comfort, to assure her he found it rather sweet, but the ever present pain he felt was a reminder why he couldn’t.

It did not help that now she was outright avoiding him. Better in the grand scheme of things, he had reminded himself, trying hard to grasp onto the logic of it. He was trying not to lead her down a path of agony for them both. But he could not deny that he missed her.

It was silly, since she was always there just across camp. Isra, however, would not even look at him and just as she had allowed him to take his space there was little he could do but allow her to run off.

It was hard enough before but this was a special form of self-flagellation. He had borne it all with a polite smile, until she had passed him over for Astarion of all people to join her on a journey to a very intriguing wizards tower. If being denied the chance to see such a place was not enough, Astarion’s new place at her side was. He was flirty by nature, and handsome was an understatement when describing him; he was also conniving and (quite literally) blood thirsty. He knew the vampire had propositioned her at the tiefling party, and he also knew that Isra was regularly feeding him her own blood.

Jealousy was now rearing its very ugly head, and despite reminding himself he was certainly not in any position to be jealous, he knew the feeling well. The Gods were not an entirely monogamous group, as it were. He felt as he had when Mystra told him of other lovers; helpless and very, very human.

But the last straw seemed to be the fact Isra had not even considered him to join on this journey. He told himself that the only reason he was breaking the unspoken barrier between them was because he had to see that tower. So he marched over to where she was idly chatting to the snake on her shoulders, crushing up mushrooms in her mortar.

“Do you have a moment?” When she looked up at him, her eyes widened, with panic or shock, he was not sure.

“Yes,” she said cautiously, then turned her attention back to her task.

Silence rang between them, filled only by everyone else doing their own tasks and the scrape of the pestle on the stone. Irritation flared in him.

“Apologies, I meant to ask; may I speak with you privately?” His tone was polite, forced, but polite nonetheless. He added a terse, “please,” for good measure.

“Ah, sorry, yes,” she set her mortar and pestle down, a gentle word to Circe had the snake sliding down her arm to curl around the tools.

He had already turned away, walking some distance towards camp to a nightlight frond within visual distance of the camp but not close enough to be overheard. Isra followed him, chewing on her bottom lip until he worried it might catch on her sharp canines. She met his eyes resolutely, chin tilted up to do so and face set into a neutral expression.

“I understand that you have taken on a position of leadership in our merry little band,” he began, “a position well earned, I might add, but I would advise you to take into consideration the strengths of everyone before organizing your outing parties.”

Her lips parted, eyes widened in shock, and then she frowned, “I’m sorry, is this a random lecture or do you intend to say what you really mean, Gale?”

“What I mean is,” he said, slowly to counteract the flaring irritation at her retort, “Shadowheart’s healing abilities are an invaluable asset down here, as is Karlach’s brute strength, but Astarion has no place poking around an abandoned wizard’s tower.”

“Astarion is incredibly good in the shadows,” Isra shot back, “look around, Gale, the entire place is shadows.”

“A valid point,” he conceded, “and yet, not every situation requires his brand of finesse.”

“So who shall I take instead?” Her tone was sharp, “since you’re so obviously bothered by your lack of input on the matter.”

“You are much cleverer than this Isra,” he said, in the back of his mind he knew he was being condescending and not making a good case for his own inclusion in the party. His ire, however, was taking the reins. “But if you insist on playing the fool: who amongst our party is, in fact, a wizard? Not only a wizard, but Mystra’s former chosen and learned under her tutelage and that of one of the greatest wizards in the realms?”

“Oh, were you Mystra’s chosen? You’re so humble for never mentioning it before,” Isra rolled her eyes.

He ignored the sarcasm, forcing instead more brightness with his factuality. He would not take the bait. “I did indeed,” he said. “A wizard’s tower is a labyrinth of curiosities that we protect fiercely, it is a sanctuary of our own making — of all our group, I am best suited for any challenges that may face us there.” He folded his hands in front of him, pleased with his speech, “and I believe you understand that the goal of learning more about these Illithid stowaways in order to eventually evict them, is more important than whatever personal challenges there may be between us.”

The sardonic expression on her face quickly shifted to something softer and much sadder. “I —“ she started but then seemed to deflate before him. She took a deep breath, and gathered herself, once again the fearless leader he had seen day in and out for the past months. Aloof, and stoic. “You’re right. I apologize. We leave tomorrow immediately after everyone has gotten enough rest, make sure you have what you need.”

Normally Gale loved hearing someone admit he was right. This time it felt empty. “I am at your disposal,” he replied, his own tone of insincere and overt brightness making him cringe internally.

Isra looked like she might say something else, but then reconsidered and asked, “is there anything else you wanted to say?”

There were a great many things he wanted to say to her, ranging all the way from poetry to just plain and simple declarations. “No, my case has been made.”

She smiled a little, “top of the class, as always, Gale.”

His heart ached with longing at the joke and the fond way she delivered it. He forced himself to smile back, nodded and then used the last of his willpower to walk away.

Gods above, he was in love with her.

The tower was a ways from their camp, and they had to double back towards the docks where the bodies of enemy duergar were beginning to rot. It was somewhat treacherous, they had to go one or two at a time along certain ridges and up rocky walls.

At some point they stopped to take a breather, Shadowheart and Karlach down below on an outcropping of rock while Gale and Isra were above on the cliffside. Shadowheart’s heavy armor was weighing her down, she needed a breather before taking on more rock climbing and while all four of them sticking as close as possible was best, pairs were acceptable to Isra for a short rest.

“Bread?” He offered her and she declined politely. “Isra, it’ll be hours before we head back to camp and breakfast was well before we even started this trek up the side of what seems to be eternally extending stone wall,” he said, exasperated. “Have some bread.”

He half expected her to make a comment about his lecturing, she normally did, or at the very least to roll her eyes at him. But she did neither. She took the bread, took a bite and then went back to staring at a very old, very detailed map of the Underdark.

Disappointed by the lack of reaction, he hummed slightly. His next choice of words could break the wall of ice between them, or it could make it worse. Making casual conversation had not yet worked, and despite knowing that the distance between them was best he couldn’t help himself.

“Do you often take the form of a cat at night?”

The way her eyes stopped flitting about the page gave away her shock at the question, her posture did not change much and in the lowlight it was hard to tell but he thought she may be turning that lovely magenta color. Her eyes closed tight as she scrunched up her face in a cringe.

“Gale, I truly am sorry,” she said. “I’ve tried to give you your space after… after… well — you know. And then I let it get in the way of —“

“It was not meant as a slight,” Gale interrupted. “Only curiosity.”

Isra seemed unsure, she licked her lips and then nibbled slightly on the bottom one (he would do damn near anything to have the privilege to do the same). She pursed her lips slightly until she spoke again.

“Sometimes.” Was all she said.

Brain momentarily befuddled thinking about her lips, he frowned, “pardon?”

“Sometimes,” she repeated, seeming like she was forcing herself to speak. “I take to wildshaping to sleep.”

Ah, yes he had asked her a question. Coming back to himself, chest aching vaguely with his renewed interest and proximity to her, Gale rubbed the mark of the orb and forced himself to meet her eyes.

“Do you find it more comfortable?”

Isra chewed on some bread, buying herself time before she responded. “If the ground is particularly uncomfortable, yes.”

“Are there varying levels of comfort while sleeping on the ground?”

“As someone who has slept on the ground most of their life: yes,” she said.

Gale wanted to whisk her away to his tower, where she could leisure away her days (in cat form or otherwise) on his bed. In fact, thinking about his bed made him pine for it deeply, his fireplace, his favorite chair, and his extensive library.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

There was a silence, not tense like before but companionable, and contemplative. Isra broke it when she added, “if it’s cold I like to transform into something with fur, helps keep it at bay.”

“We ought to get you a coat, or at the very least a better blanket,” he frowned slightly.

“Coats are expensive,” she told him, with a shrug.

“But you hunt, surely,” he said, “couldn’t you make something with fur?”

“Never took to sewing and tanning,” she shrugged. “Usually I sell whatever pelts I get my hands on.”

Gale made a mental note to find a nice blanket for her next time they came across a trader. Nothing long forgotten and repurposed like clothes she wore now, or scrounged together from scraps of their enemies belongings like her tent back at camp — something new and just for her. He could tell her not to worry herself anymore about the Vesper situation, he could further mend this break between them. But it was comfortable again and comfortable conversation was all he could afford.

They chatted a bit on the way to the tower, until the building was in sight. It was magnificent, even in its deteriorating state. A large looming beacon of civilization amongst a sea of barren rock and caverns. They navigated all the way through, down into the garden — picking through personal diaries, book collections and forgotten belongings. The Sussur tree flowers made Gale wildly uncomfortable, and he noticed both Shadowheart and Isra were fascinated and befuddled by it but he found it quite clever that it powered the lift which brought them to each floor.

Isra had pocketed a book, The Roads to Darkness, that had obviously been well loved by the wizard who created the tower. They found the spores they were hunting and the rest was pure curiosity. At the top floor he saw Isra freeze in place, befuddled by what she was seeing. Several magical automatons populated what was once a workshop, most of them were in disrepair and clunking about loudly.

“Fascinating work,” Gale admired, “still running after all this time.”

He half expected them to attack. However, when Isra approached the largest, most intricate one, it did not raise a metal finger.

“New sounds through damp and dark oppression break,” it said, “is it the foe, that foul contemptuous heel?”

Isra’s brow furrowed, and she seemed to be figuring some unknown puzzle. “The book!” She whispered and dug in her bag to pull out the book. “‘Or art thou friend, a rescue from my lonely wake?”

“Come out of love for me, not love for blood and steel. Command as you see fit, my lord, my liege,” it said in its strange tinny voice and gave a small bow.

“Good manners for a hunk of metal,” Karlach commented.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gale began, “I love poetry as much as the next wizard, but using it to command an automaton…seems a bit self-indulgent to me.”

“One of the letters, I think she said something about being holed up with only… Bernard.” Shadowheart frowned. “This must be him. It. Whatever.”

“‘The silence stretches on -’” Isra said ignoring her companions and reading from the book, “‘Please, can I hold your hands, for just a while?’”

“Of course, my love. Don’t be afraid, sweet girl.” The machine’s tone echoed, its unnatural movement and lifeless eyes mismatching the sweet words. “What can I do? Say, would you like a hug?”

Gale was aghast, as Isra agreed. The strangeness of the moment made it tense, as the unfeeling thing encouraged her into its large arms with stuttering movements. An empty charade of an intimate moment with Isra in a cage of mechanical limbs. It was meant for someone shorter than her, smaller in general.

“Remember: you are loved, Lenore,” it whispered in the imitation of a lover. “So much. You’re doing great. And everyone will be so proud of you. As I already am.”

After Bernard released her, he went about his pointless patrol of the top floor, gears whirring with each jolting step. The other constructs let them mill about the top floor and they stopped to gather their wits before heading back towards camp. Isra and Karlach sat on the ground, perched on the edge of where a fallen wall gave a view of the rocky terrain below. Shadowheart was praying, as she often did in any given downtime, and so Gale left her be and sat with the others.

“How’d you know what to say?” Karlach asked her.

Isra procured the book from her pack and showed it to Karlach, the very page with the verse she had exchanged with Bernard. “He started speaking and it was so familiar.”

“Huh, clever,” Karlach replied, then turned Gale, “watch out or she may take your job as the brains of the operation.”

“A worthy opponent she may be but I think my particular niche of knowledge will maintain my long standing position,” he said confidently.

“Think he just called you dumb, mate,” Karlach teased.

“I do have my moments,” Isra replied with mirth. “I'm sure we all remember the acid vial I mistook for a Health potion.”

“Astarion’s hair is still ruined in that same spot,” Karlach cackled along with both of them. “Strange thing, though. The old bag of bolts was made for what? A snuggle?”

“I’m certain they have security protocols,” Gale replied, “but the last thing I expected it to do was hug you, Isra.”

She was quiet for a moment. “She lost her dog, lost her lover — and after finding out she tried to tame a bulette into a house pet… Bernard doesn’t seem so far-fetched.” Isra frowned, “the things he said. How lonely must she have been.”

“Are all wizard towers lonely?” Karlach asked.

“It certainly isn’t a prerequisite for wizard towers to be lonely.”

“Was yours?”

“No,” he said confidently, but he did feel he was trying to convince himself as much as Karlach when he added, “I had Tara, and my books. Hard to be lonely in that company.”

“Isn’t Tara a cat?”

“She is a tressym,” he corrected, “and never let her hear you mix that up.”

They chatted for a bit longer before heading out. Gale behind Isra who took the lead, it was a long trek back but filled with easy conversation. Eventually, as they always seemed to be, Isra and Gale were far enough ahead of the other two that their conversation could not be overheard.

“Were you lying?” Isra asked out of the blue.

“I don’t make a habit of lying,” he replied, “but I could be more precise if I knew what you were referring to.”

“About your tower,” she clarified, “not being lonely.”

“Ah.”

“I only ask because,” she paused, chewing on her lower lip again, “well I have Circe. And I can speak to her. She’s… dearer to me than I could say. But… It is lonely sometimes, even with her there. She’s not…she can’t…”

Hug.

The word travels from her tadpole to his, unwillingly, accompanied by visions of the automaton Bernard, wrapping large unfeeling arms around her. Days of traveling through woods with no other person around. Curling up at night as a cat in a hollowed out log, hiding from the rain. His own tadpole transferred images back, sitting alone by the fire while Tara ventured out to find him trinkets to consume. Hearing people down below on the streets cajoling drunkenly at the end of the night. The lights of Waterdeep’s night markets twinkling from afar, bodies like little ants mulling around. All of those people, living lives, laughing with friends, dancing with lovers — and he could have none of it. Lonely was certainly the word he would use to describe it.

They both opened their eyes as the connection faded, realizing they stopped mid step. Gale found himself at a loss for words, it felt invasive on both ends every time any of their tadpoles connected. There was no real choice of what was revealed, no choice to look away to respect the other’s privacy. However, it had bonded them all in a way that no other situation could. To feel each other's feelings, to live another’s memories in perfect view — it was intimate.

“Everything alright?” Shadowheart said as the other two caught up, stopping along with them.

“Yes,” Isra answered before Gale could. “Tadpole stuff.”

“Damn wriggling shits,” Karlach grimaced.

They ventured on. With the other two there the conversation had been brought to an end, not that he knew what to say still. The night’s of Vesper the cat at his feet made more sense than ever. He dearly wanted them back.

Notes: thank you for reading :)

#bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios x tav #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #olly writes

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janekfan · 2 years

Text

“L’Lady.”

The Zoroark ambush had been quite successful. Ingo didn’t blame them. Due to the bad weather, they’d inadvertently wandered into their territory and he couldn’t fault them for protecting their young.

Especially considering the bad blood between his adopted clan and the entire species.

Nor did he blame Lady Sneasler for the parallel set of ragged claw marks tearing through the ratty sleeve of his uniform. The pack had the audacity to attack a Noble and her Warden and Lady Sneasler had become blinded in her anger. The poison made his forearm throb, having thrown it up in self defense to catch the attack when a well placed illusion caught the corner of her eye.

In the ensuing silence, yips and howls marked the Zoroarks’ retreat.

The wild might in her heaving chest and raised hackles terrified him and only instinct kept Ingo in place, hands still raised as the realization struck her like a well placed Tackle.

“It is alright.” Soothing, voice soft and low. “I am. Unharmed.” Mostly. The wound was small compared to what tragedy could have happened and he had supplies to treat it back at his tent. But more immediately, his Noble was panicking. Eyes wide and scared, claws trembling. “Let us depart this place and return to our home station.” She flinched away from his touch with a whine. “It was an accident, Lady. One we will avoid in the future. I know you meant no harm.” The temperature was getting to him, the chill in the air biting his lungs with every breath and nipping at his fingertips. And they had yet to reorient themselves. “Now, please help me in finding the way back. Little Lady and M are too small for this cold and cannot assist us.” Ingo spoke firmly, heart pounding, while the poison being pushed forcefully through his veins began to make itself known in the weird, heavy feeling in his limbs. “My Lady!” Raising his voice against her felt wrong, but it wouldn’t be long now before he couldn't walk. It was enough to shake her out of her stupor and she lifted her face to the wind, drawing in the scents around them before pointing decisively. “Bravo! Excellent work!”

It turned out they hadn’t been far off course in the first place. Merely turned around in the snow and further confused by the illusions of the pack of surprised Pokemon they’d blundered into. Even so, Ingo was exhausted and aching by the time his modest yurt came into view.

“Sleep well, my Lady.” He tipped his hat, injured arm tucked behind his back, and waited patiently for her customary departing ruffling of his head. Instead, she regarded him with guilt for a long, attenuated moment before bounding off in the direction of her den and Ingo let the full brunt of just how poorly he felt crash into him with all the weight and force of an oncoming train. No matter; he could deal with this. Then he would work on reassuring his Noble that he harbored no ill will and didn’t blame her for the injury.

Ingo shrugged out of his bulky coat, examining the clean tear and decided to conduct repairs later when an unexpected wash of nausea rolled through him. Before continuing with his rudimentary assessment, Ingo chewed thoughtfully on a slice of dried Pecha berry before taking a long pull from his water skin. He popped another sliver into his mouth and examined the slashes in his Pearl clan tunic. Thankfully, he had another that would suffice until he had the wherewithal to sew this one up. Another bite and he was already feeling a bit better for the natural antitoxin steadily doing its job. Next, he peeled himself out of the black, skintight layer to get at the thin line no longer even leaking blood. Lord Sinnoh, this could have been so much worse. His adrenaline soaked scent must have blocked the metallic tang because he wouldn’t normally have been able to fool her so easily.

Still, infection was a very real possibility out here, so despite the weariness tugging at his eyelids, Ingo cleaned it thoroughly before applying a salve and wrapping it securely. Safety first and all that. He nibbled on the last wedge, releasing his two partners for a meal and bedtime. Little Lady immediately noticed the bandage and Mirage was sniffing the fruit in his hand. The tent was filled with squeaks and barks of worry.

“I am fine. Your mother and I were waylaid by wild Pokemon which is why your dinner is so late.” Ingo explained while preparing their bowls. “This is a minor injury and I have already treated it.” He had to lavish the pair of them with pets and ply them with reassurances before they were settled enough to eat and Ingo bid them good night, groaning with the bliss of finally laying his tired body down to sleep.

It was late morning when Ingo woke up with M and Little Lady snuggled up to his side. Comfortably warm, he could ignore the general feeling of malaise reminiscent of the onset of a minor illness. He’d take it easy today, obviously still recovering from the effects of the poisoning received the night before, and not willing to push himself and risk the ire of both Noble and Clan Leader. After a light breakfast, Ingo stepped into the bright noon sun and raised his Celestica flute, playing specifically for Lady Sneasler’s particular ear.

Whole minutes passed and Ingo wondered aloud if she was engaged with something else, when Little Lady perked up, gesturing to the small copse of trees just at the edge of the area he’d claimed for his own.

“My Lady!” He greeted her enthusiastically, but was no less confused when she didn’t come any closer. “I see. You are still upset about yesterday.” No answer, but she did look away from him, gaze cast melancholy to the ground. “I understand losing control in that way must have frightened you.” Her growl reached him and he was undeterred. She could deny it all she wanted; her body language was speaking plainly for her. “I will continue in my duties and give you the space you require, but as my duties extend to your wellbeing, I will be checking on you regardless. In time, this memory will fade.” Ingo always marveled at the expressiveness of Pokemon and she was no exception. She was agonizing over the incident. “We will be alright. I promise.”

And she was gone.

Little Lady chirruped in question, looking between him and where her mother had stood just seconds before and far too perceptive for her own good. Ingo sighed and explained, enduring the scolding and subsequent investigation of his arm. Tender, but the Pecha berry seemed to have worked its magic and he wasn’t experiencing any acute poisoning symptoms.

Days passed. Lady Sneasler kept her distance. Wouldn’t come near him but for the call of his flute and even then, only to be of assistance with tasks she deemed too dangerous for them to handle alone; straying alphas and the like. Never to keep his company.

It was.

Unexpectedly lonely.

Today though, something was different. Worse, really, and as the hours wore on, Ingo wore out and he trudged back much earlier than he normally would, snuggling down into his futon after feeding his Pokemon.

“Just tired, M.” Mirage wasn’t convinced, that much he could tell, and neither was Little Lady. “I will rest and repair. Be, be running on all cylinders soon.” He’d looked for more berries when the nausea returned, but being so late in the season he’d been out of luck and without the energy to stray very far Ingo turned to home.

He woke with no appetite. A pounding head, body aches. Ingo checked his arm, doing his best to ignore the large, worried eyes of his partners, and noted it was healing into a clean, fine scar. Scrubbing his hands down his face, Ingo blinked hard to dispel a wave of dizziness. He wasn’t well. Felt like he was moving through water, sluggish and slow.

It was becoming clear his Lady’s poison was too strong for the antidote he’d taken. Shaky and weak, Ingo laid back down, shivering.

“Snea?”

“Rua?”

“You mustn’t tell your mother.”

“Nea!” Anger flashed in her eyes and Mirage’s aura flared dark.

“Please understand, I would not ask if. If I did not think it was for the best.” He didn’t have the breath to continue, instead laying on his back and letting the ceiling swirl around above him. “My cab will sort this out on its own and she, she already–” he missed her. The purpose she gave him. Her companionship. What if their relationship couldn’t recover from this? Why wasn’t he paying more attention? If he’d been faster, smarter? He could have prevented this from even happening! It wouldn’t be a fun ride by any means, but he was confident he’d be fine with a few days of rest. He’d rather that pain, than the pain of losing his Noble. Little Lady nuzzled his face, licking away the tears he didn’t even realize were falling. “A bit more time. Please, this will, it will pass.” And everything will go back to the way it was supposed to be. They comforted him as best they could, curling up with him to keep him warm.

The low grade fever spiked in the evening and despite drinking all the water he could hold, Ingo’s mouth was dry as Jumpluff fluff. He alternated between lava hot and glacial cold, resisting when M tugged the blankets up or Little Lady replaced the cold cloth.

“M…M…s’so h’hot.” He endured their scolding, their pleas. Curling up tight to shiver uncontrollably, begging them not to give him away in between bouts of his rambling babble. In his more lucid moments Ingo forced himself to eat and forced himself to keep it down, reassured his partners and apologized for the burden he’d become. “Soon. Another day. Two at most.” He could barely stand, muscles spasming painfully and often.

More and more he slept, plagued by nightmares, memories? Bolting awake. Shadows congealed. Slipping down canvas walls, pooling on the floor, he’d drown. Drown if he stayed here and let the dark have him.

Something flickered in the corner of his eye but when he turned to look there was nothing there, there was never anything there. Dizzy, he gasped for oxygen and found none, striking out with an uncoordinated arm in an attempt to catch himself as he fell into the sticky penumbra at his feet. Danger, escape. His Pokemon–where? Who? Why couldn’t he remember? Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he hold onto anything good? Please let them have escaped.

Pleasepleaseplease

Howling woke him. Barking and hissing. Sharp glistening claws in a blizzard of white and black and red tracing glowing paths through both dust and dim light. Climbing in and out of invisible chasms like fissures in the crust of the world, here for his blood and vying for his throat. In a churning mass of unquenchable wrath, the deafening curse of their voices in unison cut through the air like a scream. One or one hundred, the Zoroark moved in concert with each other, taking the place of one another seamlessly, seething in a crooked maelstrom of ruinous energy that became worse with every passing moment and Ingo recognized something of himself in every glittering, toothy grin.

Inescapable, but he had to try, had to keep his promises, cling to a life he didn’t understand, hadn’t wanted, needed like he needed air in his lungs. Dashing in and out of the fog and smoke, cleaving his skin, razors marking him over and over and over; brazen and bold and braver than he could ever be because they were infinite and he. And he.

Was alone

ever alone

one half.

Run. Run. Run.

As they tugged and pulled and tried to keep him trapped in this endless dark.

Finally, Ingo stumbled into a landscape lit up by the moon. Powdery drifts glistened like diamonds, banishing the shadows one after another as they tried to pursue him. Rent in two by the light and sweet Sinnoh, the relief was like wine as Ingo fell, panting, into the snow, blissful cold on his hot, hot skin.

Safe, at least for a moment.

A borderless length of time passed and Ingo would be hard pressed to tell anyone what occurred within. It was a haze of hurting and being touched by unfamiliar hands. Moved whether he wanted it to happen or not. Horrible tinctures poured down his throat that made him shed silent tears because no one would listen to his warnings about the danger they were all in. The things hiding in darkness and shadow. He was useless, frightened, confused. Glimpses of a familiar white coat caused him to weep and worry in turns because he was sorry, so, so sorry that he’d done this, even if he didn’t have enough memories to be sure what ‘this’ was. Cool cloths soothed some of the blistering heat and there were moments in between the suffering where he was sure he’d never again open his eyes.

But he did.

And he felt dreadful. So sick. Still pained and barely able to lift a finger. Gently, as though he might break, a damp cloth swept over his hot face and across his brow, sweeping the embarrassment trickling slow down his cheeks away.

“Ingo?” Soft and kind and he did Melli the courtesy of tipping his face toward him but didn’t remember much after that.

“You should’ve told me.” Ingo listed weakly where he sat with his partners in his lap, wrung out and still so, so tired, but with sense enough to feel ashamed. After a strict regimen of teas, potions, and elixirs crafted by Melli’s expert hands, Ingo appeared to be on the mend, albeit slowly. Lord Electrode’s Warden explained for what was probably the dozenth time, seeing as Ingo couldn’t hold a thought in his head for longer than a moment when he first started coming out of it, that he’d succumbed to Lady Sneasler’s poison. “It isn’t like your beloved Sneasels, you great fool.” He’d sighed, forcing a cup of something bitter into his hands. “A Noble Pokemon such as your Lady is deadly even in the smallest of doses."

“Thought…”

“Well, I highly doubt that.” Melli scoffed, but it was a soft thing, tempered by understanding. “Imagine my surprise waking up to your delinquents clawing at my door.” A put upon sigh. “Doubt I shall ever get the marks out.” One of his soft hands found its way to Ingo’s forehead. “Still feverish, but you should be out of danger. Take your medicine.”

“Thank you.”

“We found you in the snow.” Wholly ignoring Ingo’s gratitude, Melli continued puttering around the yurt, organizing myriad supplies. Making up his bedroll. How many days–? “Who goes wandering around in the dead of night dressed in naught but a yukata? One might ask.” Ingo could guess. Melli’s voice took on a thoughtful tone. “My Lord Electrode and I. We are no strangers to accidental injuries. Temper and strength; well you can imagine. But we learned. Just like you will learn.”

“Why are you being so kind?”

“The Great Melli is always kind.” Ingo didn’t bother to argue. “In time, you will become immune, as all Sneasler Wardens have had to. In the meantime,” he pulled out his own flute and Ingo’s chest went tight. “This has gone on long enough.”

Even just hearing her arguing with Melli through the thin walls made Ingo anxious and he buried his fingers in M’s silky fur, staying grounded in the familiar texture. Little Lady kept up a comforting purr, reassuring him that everything would be alright.

Ingo had his doubts.

As a Warden he’d been coming up pretty short.

He jumped when the door snapped open, regretting it when his head swam.

“You should talk.” Melli gestured for the young ones to follow him. “We will be outside if you need us.” To Lady Sneasler, the other Warden bowed. “Try not to distress him?” And with a flourish, he’d gone, leaving them alone.

“Sit, please, my Lady.” She didn’t often join him inside, preferring her wide open skies and craggy cliffs, but she obliged, worry warring with anger in her expression. “I will be fine, but. Will we?”

“Sler.”

“I do not regret asking them to keep the secret.” It was the truth and she growled at that, gesturing widely in the small space, freezing immediately when her claws arced too close to Ingo before withdrawing slowly. “I thought it would make things between us worse and I greatly underestimated your poison. Had you been a mere Sneasel, no doubt I would have recovered quickly.” Ingo forced himself to sit straight despite the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. “I will not make the same mistake again.” He felt more than heard her rumbling as it traveled through the floor. She was angry with him. With herself. “Warden Melli said we would learn and I trust his wisdom. I will not behave in this way again, please–” hot tears stung his eyes. The weight of his failures was pressing the air from his body. “I do not fear you and it, it hurts to see you fear yourself, so please.”

Don’t abandon me.

“You will not hurt me. You would never.” She huffed, throwing a scornful look in his direction, imploring him to look at himself and the damage she’d wrought. At this, Ingo climbed to his feet, the weakness in him so profound he very nearly swooned. Lady Sneasler was shouting now, discarding her silent wrath like a tattered coat, torn between rebuke and admonition and while Ingo agreed with her that he should not be standing, he had to do something. Even if it was just losing feeling in his legs such that she had no choice but to catch him, or watch him knock what little memory he did retain clean out of his head. “See?” Breathless, giddy, as she held him, still loudly reprimanding his questionable decisions, while gently maneuvering him back into bed. Shadow swept across Ingo’s vision and he fought to stay awake.

“Snea, snea…” She soothed, as if he were one of her unruly children, grooming his face with a sandpaper tongue as he was pulled under by the tide.

“You are both too headstrong for your own good.” Melli was preparing the raw materials for several strong doses of antitoxin and Ingo was doing his utmost to learn quickly. It was difficult with the other Warden’s grandstanding, but he couldn’t deny the truth of it. “If you would but learn from the fine example, nay, the gift of perfection, myself and Lord Electrode provide you, we’d all be in a far better place. Really though, it’s a wonder you’ve turned out to be a half-decent Warden in the first place, having fallen into the lap of the Pearl Clan.”

“Indeed.” Things were as they should be with Lady Sneasler on her mountain and responding to his flute again, and his partner Pokemon curled up close to the fire, tuckered after battling Melli’s for a few exciting rounds. Other than a lingering fatigue, Ingo felt almost back to normal and had gone on his rounds earlier in the day, determined that he’d never be caught like this again. If not for his own sake, for his Noble. She deserved better than that.

“Really, the time I waste coming to your rescue time and again. It’s almost as if you’re seeking out my attention.” Melli’s expressive hands stopped moving as though he was struck with a sudden thought, lips curling up in a delighted and mischievous grin. “Oh, Warden!” The Delcatty that got the cream. “Is that what this has all been about?”

Oh dear.

"All this fuss, I'm flattered, truly."

Oh dear.

"Warden Melli, I assure you!" Though he couldn’t deny spending this time together had been more than pleasant, Ingo would never want to imply, or, or impose?

“Next time the mood strikes, just visit.” Melli offered Ingo a warm and genuine smile, a bit shy and surprisingly apprehensive as he peered from beneath dark lashes. “My door is always open.”

#mellingo #warden ingo #warden melli #poison #nobori #pla #pokemon legends arceus #tsubaki #lady sneasler #sneasel #little lady #zorua #zoruark #hurt/comfort #slow burn #fever #caretaking #ingo making bad choices #submas

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