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purple-babygirl · 11 days

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in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

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asumofwords · 8 months

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, death.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh boy, look how far we have come? This has been such an insane ride, so just remember how much you love me... hahahaha. This chapter has been sitting with me since I started writing this fic months ago, so at least the vision stayed the same! We still got 6 more chapters to go... I sense some therapy invoices coming. Anyway... enjoy <3

Chapter 104: Star Fruit and Sacrifices

Sleep evaded you that evening as you laid in his arms.

The storm outside the Red Keep quietly raged on, and the chambers were lit intermittently with the bright flashes of lightning, your heart jumping in your chest each time as it illuminated a small figure at the end of the room.

Lucerys no longer whispered, but instead stared at you.

Watched you.

Waited.

Always the same, and you were sure, would always be forever more. Dripping wet as he had been the day he was taken, on a storm very much like the one outside.

But war was coming, and there was no possibility of escaping that now.

And what was more; you were caught.

Caught in the decision that you knew you would have to make. Caught in the knowing that it would come too soon. Caught in the knowing that it would change everything forever.

Change you forever.

You loved him.

That much was true.

But you also loved them.

And there was no way that any of you would come out of this unscathed.

Unmarked.

Unscarred.

And Aemond would keep you locked away in these chambers as you would lose more of yourself and your family at his hands.

Aemond would kill them all.

Or they would kill him.

But you loved him.

Despite all, you loved Aemond Targaryen.

And oh, how he had changed. How he had grown. How he had become his own man, held his own, made his own moves, and all because of you. All because you pushed him to. All because you made him believe he could.

And he could.

And he did.

And now he was King, and you his Queen.

You shifted in his arms, looking up at his face.

He had never looked so at peace. Lost to his dreams, his eye shut, the other sapphire, forgotten to be taken out, shining down at you. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed, hands wrapped tightly around you protectively, possessively, and legs intertwined with your own. Your stomach warmed.

Long, white eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as you wriggled out of his hold, moving to straddle him, your body atop his, chemise thrown over you at his insistence before you slept. ‘You will catch cold’ he had said, and you had let him dress you, as he pulled on a pair of loose breeches and dragged you back to bed to sleep.

You sat atop his body and watched as he slowly came to wake, those long white lashes flicking open, pupil dilating as he focused on you and how you sat atop him, not unlike the many times before in the throws of your lovemaking.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered to him in the dark, voice as quiet as the storm outside moved with every passing moment.

Aemond wet his lips with his tongue, clearing the sleep from his throat as his hands came to rest atop your hips, “You are more beautiful than any other in the realm.” He whispered back.

Tears prick at your eyes, and one slowly rolled down your cheek, your uncles brows twitching.

“My husband,” You cooed, “My King.”

Another tear fell.

The hands on your hips tightened, “What has happened?” He asked, concern nipping at you with each word, “Did you have a night terror?”

“I would move the heavens for you if I could.” You breathed, a hand coming to brush against his jaw, the subtle roughness of his shaved facial hair prickling your palm, “I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I will always be yours.”

Aemond wiped away a tear that fell from your cheek. You grabbed that hand, bringing it down to press against your stomach, intertwining your fingers together, his hand dwarfing your own as you held him against you.

“This is us. Ours. Your child grows inside of me each day. And I cannot wait to meet him. I know he will be just as lovely as you.” You smiled at him, and Aemond smiled back softly, grabbing your other hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the presence of the memory of your brother behind you getting closer.

Dracarys.

Tear after tear fell down your cheeks, running down your face to land on Aemond’s bare chest below. You swallowed, that great lump in the back of your throat again as your hands shook, heart beating against your chest like a drum.

“But you have broken me.” You whispered, gnawing at your lip painfully.

The hand on your stomach twitched as he looked up at you, smile dropping from his face as the other palm moved to grasp your hip again, fingers flexing against your skin.

“You have scarred me, Aem. My body is covered in them. My mind faces the same fate. You raped me, Aemond. And left me to Aegon.” At the mention of his name, Aemond shifted beneath you, hands on your stomach and hip flexing, “I was miserable here, gone to grief, wishing to be dead, and you did little to save me.”

The man below you’s lips parted, a lungful of air being sucked into his chest as he moved to rebuke your accusations, “I am not that man any longer.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re not, and I am so proud of the man you have become. Of the man you were always destined to be. We were meant to burn together, you see? Destined by the Gods.”

Aemond’s face held remorse, but poured love towards you, “I know I can never atone for what I did, for what I have done to you. Taken from you. But I make no apologies, just as you would not do the same. We are changed, now. One.” The hand from your stomach slid to cup your cheek, “We will start anew. You have always been mine, and I have always been yours. Zālagon hēnkirī.”

Burn together.

"Always." A sob flew from your lips, and so you leant down to capture his with yours, holding his face in your hands as you poured love and adoration into him.

You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. It felt as though with every beat of your heart, a knife was twisted further and further into your chest.

Doomed from the beginning.

Doomed by the Gods.

Doomed by fate and the path they had laid out for you.

You pulled away, hovering above him as you looked at his face, his eye, his eyelashes, his lips that you loved to kiss, his hair which was soft and flowing, and it made you sob harder.

“I know. Zālagon hēnkirī. Lanta hen keskydoso,” Two of the same, You repeated Helaena’s prophesy to him, watching as his eye lit up in recognition, "Vējes ondoso se Jaes'.” Fated by the Gods, “Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Hubon hen kasta, hubon hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”

Two great dragon flames, together as one.

Spool of green, spool of black.

A great fall to tie two threads.

Fated to burn together.

A smile worked its way back onto Aemond’s lips, and you continued, “I would never be whole without you. You have carved yourself into my every being, Aemond. We were always meant to burn together, the Gods made it so when they fated us since birth. I know this now. I know this now more than I know myself. You have shown me my future. Our future.”

You knew what it meant.

You understood it all now.

You kissed him, and he kissed you, and you held his face in your hands as you uttered the words you know he had been craving to hear, needed to hear once more, “I love you, Aemond. Stars above, I love you. You are mine. And you will always be mine.”

Aemond’s smile widened, teeth showing as he held onto you, another tear falling from your eyes, “Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

Your lips sought his, eyes wet and heart beating in your chest. The cool of the sheet rolled beneath your hand as you slid it beside his head. Aemond gripped your hips tightly, slowly beginning to roll you against his hardening length.

Fingertips sought what they seeked, and your lips parted as you breathed into the kiss.

Aemond jerked beneath you, and your face pulled back. His fingers dug their nails into your hips painfully as another sob fell loudly into the chambers.

The blade in your palm was cold.

Such a beautiful blade.

The same blade that he had gifted you, with two dragons dancing around each other on the hilt.

Green and Black.

You and Him.

You held it tightly, knuckles white and hand shaking as it was imbedded in his neck, in a place where you had once tried to pierce with a shard of mirror before and missed, just above the scar of the old wound, but this time was final.

This time, it had met its mark.

Aemond’s hand flew to your wrist as you held the dagger in his flesh, blood spurting from the wound, spraying across the white of your chemise, and pooling into the sheets below. His brows were drawn in pain as he looked at you in disbelief, in betrayal, and you sobbed louder, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you hurt them. I can’t let you kill them. I can’t.” You sucked in a large sob, pulling the blade from his neck in shock, in horror, and dropped it against the pillow, forgotten.

But then regret settled in your chest, like that knife that twisted against your ribs, making its way to your heart.

Your hand flew to the wound, pressing against it as his blood spilled over, pulsing through your fingers. Aemond’s eye widened, and his hand pressed yours against his neck, trying to stem the bleeding.

But it was no use.

The thick crimson life flowed from him steadily with each beat of his heart, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall with it. Your stomach twisted in knots, and all you could do was cry atop him as his eye fluttered.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn't let you. I couldn't let you become a monster again." You sobbed down at him, watching as his brow softened, a small trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth as it opened, his hand skating up your hip to cup your cheek, palm covered in blood.

But it was not enough.

It would never be enough.

Hands shaking, you leant down to kiss him one final time, tasting copper on your tongue as blood had begun to fill his mouth. Aemond kissed you back weakly, hand still cupping your face.

In love.

Denial.

Shock.

Betrayal.

You sobbed into his lips, pulling back as you looked at him, his mouth opened again, and another trickle of blood leaked down his chin, meeting the rest of the crimson that seeped onto his neck and chest.

“I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What have I done? Oh Gods, what have I done?” You cried, watching his lips part over and over, the love of your life attempting to speak, attempting to breathe, as he drowned in his own blood.

But no words could have passed his lips. And the soft fluttering of his eye slowed, and became hooded, his face growing paler than the pearl-like skin he already had. The pink flush of life beginning to fade.

The hand that cupped your cheek, the hand that had loved you, the hand that had held you, that had hurt you, slipped from your cheek and back onto the bed limply.

Blood still pulsed from the side of his neck, though weaker now, soaking thickly into the sheets as you sat atop him. Its thick essence soaked into the white of your chemise at your knees and hips, and where the initial arterial spray had dashed across you.

Those long white eyelashes blinked at you slowly, opening once more as he looked at you, teeth coated in his own blood. The side of his lip twitched, and you prayed to the Gods that it would pull into that smirk you both despised and adored. That he would grin at you and laugh, sit up and pull you into his arms.

That he would whisper into your ear that he was fine, that it was nothing that the Maester could not fix, that he would call to him now and have the maids fetch fresh sheets for you both, and bring a hot bath to soak into and wash your sin away.

That you could take him once more inside you, feel the joy he could give your body, kiss his lips, and his cheeks, his neck, all of him. That perhaps this would be a tale that you could tell your children of later, laugh heartily at how silly you had been, how awfully in love the two of you were, and watch each other grow old and grey and withered by time, your heir eventually sitting the throne after him.

But then the hand atop yours at his neck slipped away, and the violet eye that had seen so much of you became unfocused.

An ache spread across your chest as you sobbed atop him.

And his seeing eye, saw no longer.

Another eye had closed.

Aemond’s chest stopped rising and falling, no more stuttering or shaking of his limbs, his thighs and core no longer tensed or twitched, and the blood that spilled from his wound had stopped its pulsing.

He was gone.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, your hands shook as you cupped his face, his lifeless head rolling in your hands, eye open to the ceiling, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh Gods, what have I done? What have I done?”

You looked down at your hands.

They were stained with the oozing coppery liquid, the smell of iron curling around you thickly.

Your stomach rolled.

And then, denial.

Your hands frantically tried to press against his neck, blood causing him to slip out of your grip, the open wound brushing against the scar of your palm, the scar you had given yourself, the scar he had given you, and the scar that now, ultimately would never heal.

“What have I done? What have I done? Aemond? Please, Gods. Oh, Aemy. Please, wake up. Curse me, strike me, anything! Please, please don’t leave me here without you.”

The death of Aemond Targaryen broke you completely.

Burnt pages and crisp beginnings, marred by blood and choices that no young woman should be forced to make. The night moved slowly, and you would not move from his side.

Curled up against it, laid in his blood, you held his body against yours, clutching him to you as you sobbed and cried, begging for forgiveness, apologising over, and over until your throat became raw, and your voice rasped barely above a whisper.

Your chemise was soaked red, clinging to your body, and your silver hair became stained as you tucked your head beneath his, feeling the warmth of his body slowly fade away. His eye, untrained on the ceiling, and yours brimming with tears.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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mrsbrookemunson · 2 months

Note

Hi, love you’re writing! I was wondering if you were open to a Sebastian request… there’s a HC that the reason his hair is always so chaotic is due to Solomon taking sheep shears to his head, and I was wondering if you could use that to do a small fluff, possibly revealing a crush, between Sebastian and MC, in which he’s received another Solomon haircut and is feeling really self conscious about it, so MC assures him it’s not so bad/he’s still handsome

I'm not even kidding, I saw this request and immediately had to do it because I love it so much - I recently went to Universal (Islands of Adventure) and saw the Hogwarts castle and Hogsmeade... I may have cried a little. Summary: The request Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x MC (No pronouns used) Warnings: Uncle Solomon (there, I said it), angst, fluff, food mentioned, use of 'MC', honestly just real fluffy fluff which I feel like we don't have a lot of. Wrote this in one sitting so most definitely typos. If you're on a computer, the pictures might be formatted weirdly. Contains (Or Lacks): No specific house mentioned. The main plot of the game still happened, but Sebastian's side quest did not. Which means Solomon's alive, but Anne is not cured. Set in summer.

(Pictures Found on Pinterest)

The summer sun was always a lovely feeling after the long and cold winters that occurred in the Scottish Highlands. You could admit the snow was pretty, but the way the warmth engulfed you as your journey took you through fields of flowers, across crystal clear water streams, all whist surrounds by tall mountains that were accented with green. Green was everywhere - green grass, green trees, green bushes, and everything so forth. Each breath you took filled you with peace.

Then there you were.

Feldcroft.

It was only a month and a half ago since you last saw your best friend, Sebastian. The end of your 6th year left you torn. Why? Because ever since you and him met in 5th year, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited when your eyes first met his. It was almost as if Merlin himself wrote in the stars that the two of you would find each other one day. And thank Merlin you did. He was there for you during your fight in the Goblin War, he was there for you in the search to find all the answers that led to more questions, and he was there for you when you lost Professor Fig. But, there were lows that came with it.

You couldn't help him. Over the last two school years, you've tried and failed to have found a cure for his twin sister Anne. You both now knew Rookwood was behind the cruelty and not a goblin, but what good did it do when you were too blinded by the fight to have forgotten to force the answers Sebastian so desperately needed out of him? At least, that's what you tell yourself. Sebastian had to have told you a million times not to blame yourself, but you couldn't follow through. The only way to fix things was to find a cure for Anne.

You clutched the handle of your trunk as your eyes caught the all too familiar well of Feldcroft.

"Off on another adventure?"

You turned your head with a raised eyebrow toward Ignatia Wildsmith. With a chuckle, you continued forward.

"Ah! MC, good to see you again!" Bernard Ndiaye, the Feldcroft shopkeeper, called out.

You smiled and walked up to him. "Hello, Bernard. Doing well?"

"As good as one can be," he answered. "What brings you to town?"

"Oh, I'm just visiting a friend," you replied, vaguely. "Sebastian," you added.

"Ah... young Sallow. I've seen quite a bit of him recently."

"Hm?" You gave him a questionable look.

"He's been helping the folks around here with some labor. He's been a great help to me, keeping my shop tidy and stocked!"

"Sounds like Sebastian," you laugh.

He echoed your laughter. "I shouldn't have been surprised of your arrival, he's been talking about you."

"Has he?" You perked.

"Oh yes... all good things, of course." He grinned, smugly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in suspicion. "I'll take your work for it..." you dragged in amusement. "Well, I should probably be going, they are expecting me."

"Yes! Yes! Don't let me keep them waiting." He waved you off as he takes a sip of his tea.

You smiled and waved goodbye. You walked away toward the Sallows' house which you deemed as the most whimsical looking one out of Feldcroft, but maybe you were biased. You sighed as you took in the house. It was small, but beautiful. You took note of the new elements that have appeared since the last time you were here. A few new plants, a few new fruits and vegetables in their garden, even a new painted wood sign that claimed their residency. Everything looked perfectly tended to.

You raise your fist to knock, but before your knuckles could touch the door you heard what sounded like a grunt coming from behind the house. You froze in attempt to make it easier to hear. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard yet another one. You took a step back from the door and set down your luggage. Your curiosity led your feet around the house, eyes bouncing around to spot the source of the sound.

You stopped over by the training dummies when you heard another sound, louder than had been before. You turned your head rather abruptly knowing you had finally found your conclusion but that backfired when you felt your knees nearly give out on you.

Oh.

Your face flushed when your attention was suddenly drawn to none other than your best friend. Your best friend that you fancied like mad, right here in front of you, skin glistening from sweat, breathing heavily with the occasional grunt as he moved large trunks of wood. Your eyes widened the more you continued to gawk at him, you didn't even notice that your jaw had dropped a little at the sight of him.

He stood up straight and lifted his hat a little to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He let out a long sigh of exhaustion and let his head hang low for a moment before shaking it off and turning his body to where you stood. You swore you saw his soul leave his body when he was smacked in the face by your presence.

He jumped and grasped his chest with a gasp. "Merlin MC, don't do that to me! How long were you standing there?" he scolded.

Your brain didn't process his scolding. You smiled and walked with vigor up to him. Without a word you threw your arms around your neck and pulled him into an embrace. He stiffened for a second before hugging you back

"I missed you," you said.

He wouldn't have admit it in that moment, but hearing your voice after haven't heard it in a while made his stomach flutter. A smile made its way onto his face. "I missed you too."

You pulled away, but not too far as you scanned his face for any changes. He did the same.

"You've grown," you pointed out.

"Have I?" He smirked.

"At least an inch." You narrowed her eyes. "And you got a new freckle... right... there." You poked his cheek.

He jokingly slapped your hand away. "I see you haven't change one bit," he teased.

You rolled your eyes. You raised a hand to block your eyes from the sun. "Merlin Sebastian, how are you wearing a hat right now in this weather?"

You didn't mention it, but you saw the way his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

"Where's your luggage?" he asked.

"At the front." You jutted your head in the direction.

"C'mon, let's get you settled then." He placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you to the front of the house. He grabbed your luggage and brought it inside, holding the door open for you.

The first thing you saw was Anne. She was standing there with a weak smile on her face. She had gotten a lot thinner since last summer when you saw her, and the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable. It was a jab to your heart seeing her this way, knowing you couldn't control it.

"MC!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Anne!" You opened your arms and hugged the girl.

"How've you been?" she asked, moving so she could look at you as she spoke.

"I've been good - busy - but good." You hesitated at first, but asked, "And you? How have you been feeling?"

"Some days are worse than others, but today has been good. Probably because I knew you'd be here today." You laughed together. "Uncle has gone out to go get supplies for supper tonight, he should be back soon."

Sebastian behind you muttered something incoherently.

Anne looked at him. "Something on your mind?"

He glanced up from the palm of his hand which he had been absentmindedly tracing. He formed his lips into a tight line. "Nope. Nothing at all... I'll be outside if you girls need anything." He was quick to leave.

You grew a little confused at his rushed exit. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

Anne scoffed a little. "Oh, it's - it's nothing, it's silly." She brought you to sit at the dining table with her. "He's just a little snippy because Solomon gave him a haircut," she explained.

You didn't know whether to laugh or not. "What?"

Anne shook her head a little. "Ever since we were young, after our parents died, every summer Uncle Solomon will give Sebastian a haircut if he thinks it's gotten too long to do labor with."

You grimaced at the thought of that man giving you a haircut and began to felt sympathy for Sebastian the more you thought about it. "Oh..."

"Solomon recently thought it had gotten too long... I have never seen Sebastian fight it more than he did this time. Honestly, I think it had something to do with you coming so soon."

You frowned. "I'd never make fun of him if that's what he thought."

"He knows that, it's just..."

You tilted your head. "It's just... what?"

She leaned in a little. "It's just that he wants to look his best when he's around you."

"Why should that matter?"

She looked a little taken aback. "My Merlin, do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"You don't!" she exasperated.

"Don't know what?" You were starting to get a little desperate.

Anne looked around as if to make sure no one was listening. "Be honest with me here... do you fancy my brother?"

You nearly choked out your saliva as you gasped in shock. "What?! No! Me?! No!" You avoided her eye contact as well as her wide grin.

"Oh my gods! You do!" She began to laugh as if it was hysterical. "I knew it!" She slapped the table. "And Sebastian told me you didn't think of him that way..." She shook her head. "I should've listened to Ominis." She began to ramble off about you, Sebastian, and Ominis.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't tell him I told you, but sister to sister you have to know... that my brother - my twin - is totally in love with you."

You blinked a few times as you attempt to process this information. "What?"

"Now before you start asking - "

"Has he told you that?! Since when?! Why has he never told me?!" you blurted.

"He - "

Suddenly, the door swung open. Heavy footsteps treaded in, the wooden floors creaked underneath the new weight. You turned your head and was met with Solomon whose facial expression hadn't changed since the last time you saw him. A deep scowl.

"You're here early," he grumbled.

Your eyes glimpsed at the grandfather clock in their house. You weren't early, in fact you were actually a little late, but there was no way you would correct him. So, instead, you gave a sweet smile. "I had anticipated some interruption during my travels, but lucky for me none came."

He gave a stiff nod and shuffled his way to the kitchen. "Hope you like Shepard's pie."

Even if you didn't, you would never admit it. "Love it!" You eyed Anne who was holding back a giggle.

"Where's that boy?" he asked, unpacking the produce and meat.

"He's outside, working in the back," Anne answered.

He glared. It wasn't directed toward Anne, but it still managed to make you two cower a little. "No manners that boy has! Invites a guest over and then - " The rest of it was mumbled as he stormed out of the house.

You and Anne could hear muffled shouting.

You turned to Anne. "Anne, about Sebastian - " You were interrupted this time by the door. However, Solomon was now accompanied by Sebastian.

So, that's why he's wearing a hat. You thought to yourself.

Solomon shoved his toward the table where you and Anne sat at. He huffed and sat down beside you.

Anne glanced between the two of you with a sly smile. "So, MC... you said you've been busy, doing what exactly?"

"I've been helping Mr. Weekes at Spintwitches Sporting Needs, he has some new ideas for broom upgrades that I've been assisting him with."

"Sebastian told me you were a good flyer, better than Imelda from what he's told me."

Sebastian had seemed to've perked up. "She's the best on the team."

You breathily scoffed. "That's pushing it a little."

"Nonsense, people think you're gonna get chosen for captain in this new year," he said.

"Don't let Imelda hear that, it'd be over her dead body would I get that position," you half-heartedly joke.

"Anything else you've been doing?" Anne inquired, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"I've been helping Mr. Hill with modeling clothes, helping Sirona at the Three Broom Sticks - cleaning and whatnot, helping J. Pippins with potion deliveries, of course running my own shop - "

"Have you been taking breaks?" Sebastian asked.

You frowned a little at his look of concern. "Of course I have been taking breaks, I''m taking one right now, being here." You could tell that didn't ease him. "It's a busy season, but I've been managing."

"But, you've been drinking enough water, right? Eating enough? Sleeping enough?"

Anne could relate this back to the 'he's in love with you' claim, but you could relate it back to the two of them. He's had to care for Anne for a while now and witnessed her downfall, it's to no surprise he'd be protective over your health and making sure you're okay.

"Yes, Sebastian," you assured.

Solomon was cutting carrots (why is that funny to imagine?), when he grumbled to himself about something. He set his knife down shook his head. "Boy! What did I say about wearing hats indoors?"

You eyed Sebastian's expression. It flickered with embarrassment.

"I am not taking off this hat," he argued.

Solomon crossed his arms and stared down Sebastian. "And why is that?"

Sebastian's lip trembled a little. "W-Well, because - " He sighed in defeat, he didn't want to argue in front of you. That was an embarrassment in itself as he learned the more he thought about the day you first met Anne. "Yes, sir."

Solomon went back to cooking. You didn't know whether to watch or not as Sebastian slowly took off his hat. His eyes casted down in shame. Some of his hair was matted down from the sweat while the rest of it had it's own mind. You had never really seen his natural hair, always tamed with gel. This was the first time you had seen the chaos that was Sebastian's hair, and oh how Solomon did not understand it.

Sebastian ran a hand through it, but it only seemed to have stirred it more. The shorter layers sticking out a little, some parts wavy, some parts straight. The longer layers uneven. You deep down hoped that one day it'd be you who'd give his hair the treatment it deserved, because you knew how much Sebastian cared about it.

"I'm just going to step away for a moment - " Sebastian started.

"No, I need your hand in the kitchen," Solomon countered.

Sebastian shut his eyes. His nostrils flared ever-so-slightly as he breathed in sharply. He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Due to the arguing, Solomon did haste the cutting process," Anne explained in a hushed tone

"What does he use for it?" You scooted closer toward her so Sebastian nor Solomon heard.

"Sheep shears." Anne cringed at the thought. "I've been fortunate enough to have never experienced it, Sebastian on the other hand..." she paused. "In our second year, Solomon cut it right before the start of first term, and let's just say... it ended him up with an awful nickname."

"Oh, poor Sebastian..." You sympathized.

"After that he learned how to style his hair and built a new reputation for himself, but I know it haunts him every time this season comes around. I think he's just scared you'll somehow lose interest in him all together if you see him - well... this way..."

You frown and looked at Sebastian whose energy drained in the last hour.

"I don't think that's possible," you whisper, unknowingly.

Anne grabbed your hand that laid on the table. "Maybe it's time to tell him that."

You bit your lip. Your nerves grew the more you thought about such a conversation between you and Sebastian. Where you'd reveal the feelings you've contained since the day you met him. Yes, when you met him, you thought he was attractive, but then you got to know him and suddenly he was beautiful. Inside and out, and that's what scared you.

Were you enough for someone beautiful?

You know Anne said he liked you back, but what if it was all a big misunderstanding? It wouldn't have been the first time.

Could you afford to get your heartbroken by Sebastian?

You think not. Which is why when you got your plate of food, you managed to build up no appetite. You pushed around the potato meat and vegetables until it was nothing but a pile of mush. You could feel the heat of Sebastian's gaze burn into you, but you did you best to avoid it. Eventually, Anne allowed the awkward silence to take over until everyone was done with dinner.

Sebastian stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air," he announced before leaving.

You watched him carefully as he left.

Anne picked at her fingernails. "I'm gonna go help Uncle with the rhubarb pie," she said, slowly, as if hinting toward something. "If you know... you wanna... talk." She eyed the door.

You picked it up her cues rather easily. "Yeah," you breathed. "Yeah, maybe that's for the best." You cleared your throat as the both of you stood.

Anne could read by your stance how nervous you were. She grasped your upper arm. and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hey, believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I know my brother better than anyone and I know... you're everything to him."

You could've argued against that, but chose to bite your tongue and nod. She smiled and gave your upper arm one more squeeze. She walked past you to the kitchen. You sighed and glanced at the door. After what felt like a lifetime you took the first step toward exiting the house until you felt the cool breeze against your face. You ventured out a little and turned your head to your right. It was where you two met up the day you first came to Feldcroft all that time ago, before you met Anne, before him and Solomon got into that fight, and before you told Sebastian all about the keepers.

You walked up the steps and to him where he was leaning against the railing. His back was still turned to you which prompted you to rest against the railing next to him. The two of you wallow in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence.

"What for?"

"For being distance."

"It's okay - "

"It's not okay..." He groaned a little. "It's stupid." He shook his head.

"What is? I can tell you, whatever it is, it is not stupid if it's affecting you this much." You knew what it was, but for you to truly understand, you needed to hear his feelings on it.

He shakily sighed. "I know you've noticed, how could you not notice?" He tugged at a strand of his hair which stuck up and out of place. "I swear he treats me as though I'm still a child."

"Sebastian..."

"Don't even lie and tell me it doesn't look bad."

"Could you look at me, please?" He hesitates but does so. "Here..." You stand upright, guiding him to do the same. Cautiously, you began to run your fingers through his hair. You don't verbally mention the way he shuddered immediately when doing so, or when he sighs again, this time of content. You smile, and continue to use your fingers to carefully style his hair. "This is the first time you've ever let me do this."

"Is it really?" He sounded absent. You noticed he had close his eyes and was now leaning into your touch a little more than before. "I've been missing out..."

"Just give me the word and I'll do this at any time for you." You smiled even though he couldn't see it.

"Careful... I think I'd tell you to never stop at some point."

You chuckle but don't respond. You finish by brushing his bangs to the side. Your eyes flickered all around his face. You were so close, you could've counted every freckle, every eyelash, every scar and imperfection that was perfection simply because it was him. Without another thought, your fingers dragged to trace the side of his face down to his jawline. During that, his eyes slowly opened. Your hand didn't leave his face as his eyes bored into yours.

Have they always looked at you that way?

"Have I told you lately that no matter what... you're beautiful... to me?" you stammered.

His breath hitched in his throat. "No," he breathed. "But, then again, I've been doing a terrible job reminding you that as well."

"We ought to really work on that together then, hm?"

He lifted up a hand and pushed your hair back behind your ear. "Yeah..."

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

You could only describe the moment as the stars having finally aligned. He wasted no time placing his lips against yours. There was no barrier of friendship keeping him from doing the thing he's been wanting to do for so long. You both have well crossed that safe line and now there was so turning back. Sebastian pulled you closer as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to make up for all the time he let go by without making you his. And he really wanted you to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. He wanted to memorize the feeling of your lips against his, your body pressed to his body, the tickle of your hair of his face, the feeling of your fingers in his hair. All that he wanted to consume was you.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. You both laughed and leaned into each other as you processed the moment as it was really happening.

You sighed, happily. "You know, your uncle is going to be wondering where we went."

"I honestly could care less about that right now." He couldn't stop smiling. He goes to lean in again but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"As much as I'd love for you guys to continue your moment, I was ordered to tell you that the pie is ready," Anne said with an amused glint in her eye. "I'd also like to mention that I told you so, to both of you." She spun on her heel and began to slowly walk away.

You and Sebastian watched Anne walk away with wide eyes. Sebastian intertwined your fingers with his. "I guess we do have all of summer to spend time with each other."

"I'd like to think it wouldn't end just there," you tease as the you both start to walk back to the house.

"Don't you worry, you're gonna be stuck with me for life. Bad haircuts and all." He nudges you, playfully.

A perfect life.

Your eyes soften. "Lucky me," you whisper.

#sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #harry potter

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hugmekenobi · 4 months

Text

Return to the Light

A Bad Batch Post S2 Oneshot

Gif by @spacemagicandlaserswords

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Being separated from one another had taken it's toll and the search had been hard but in all the darkness, a glimmer of hope remains

Warnings: Mentioned canon-typical violence, swearing, my made-up timeline, limited use of y/n, some choice interrogation techniques, sad flashbacks, mentions/descriptions of torture, mentions of death, mentions/descriptions of injury and sickness, reader is not in the greatest of headspaces and takes it out on Lyra, talks of self-sabotage/sacrifice and self-loathing, my interpretation of all things Force, dodgy Star Wars medical techniques, slight manipulation/miscommunication, kissing, overall a pretty angsty time but there's some fluff sprinkled in

Masterlist for S1 and S2

Word Count: 18.2K (don't look at me, idk what happened lol)

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Huge shoutout and thanks to my friend @burningfieldof-clover who supported and provided many helpful tips as I struggled though this!! And its finally here! I am so sorry it took so long but I hope you all enjoy it despite the wait! I have another one planned to follow that hopefully will not take as long haha so I'm excited to get to work on that too! Also praying that by posting this, I can manifest a S3 trailer haha

Nelvaan

Ever since the disaster of Ord Mantell and from the second they’d managed to flee; Hunter had been doing everything he could to find you and Omega again. He’d tormented himself with the various possibilities of what could be happening to the two of you. Every day he’d been apart from you both had seen him fighting with himself. Possible informants and Imperial soldiers he could cope with just fine, what had been proving to be a struggle was fighting the complete hopelessness that had overwhelmed him as the weeks dragged on with no sign or information on the whereabouts of either of you. Every failed lead had left the bitter taste of disappointment and there were times when he felt like he would be crushed by the weight each defeat brought.

Things had started to shift however when they came across the various wanted posters and holoimages of you that were strewn across the galaxy, particularly in the Outer Rim. So, when Echo had decided to do some work on his own and went back to working with his contacts within the Empire and reported back that you hadn’t actually been taken, he’d felt that flicker of hope he hadn’t been able to find for a long time and the plan changed. Echo would continue to utilise his allies in the search for Omega whilst he and Wrecker looked for you. Once Hunter had you back, the four of you would reconvene and find Omega.

To get to Omega, they needed your skills and… and Hunter just needed you but there were moments in the early stages of the search where it seemed impossible. Knowing you were out on your own helped with finding his way out of the darkness but knowing you were alive and finding you alive were very different things, the latter was proving to be incredibly challenging.

You may had stopped hiding what you were, but you were remarkably good at making an impression somewhere but still finding a way to go unseen. Every location they’d gone to, they’d been too late, and you appeared to have moved on. You never stuck around anywhere for too long and it was making things a lot harder.

The most recent trail of half-baked information he and Wrecker had followed had led them to this pawn shop- ‘Hidden Gems’. According to rumour, you’d been in asking about them, yet another piece of knowledge that only added to his frustration that they always seemed to miss you by a matter of weeks. Hunter opened the door, but the owner’s back was still turned to them as they pashed the threshold.

Kedrin heard the bell clang as the door opened and shut. “I’ll be with you in a flash.” He said as he finished writing up the recent sales. He closed the book and turned around with a salesman smile on his face, but that and his words of welcome instantly died on his lips as he saw who had walked in.

Immediately upon seeing these men, Kedrin was reminded of a description given to him a while ago by the Jedi everyone had been talking about and he did not want them here. He did not want to deal with this anymore. “Ah, well actually gentlemen, I was just closing up for the afternoon. You’ll have to come back.” He said, wringing his hands nervously as the bigger one split off and began wandering the shop whilst the one with the bandana stayed where he was.

Hunter leaned his back against the door and lazily played with his vibroblade. He knew by the beads of sweat on the owner’s brow and the anxious pounding of his heart that they were in the right place. “Where is she?” He asked, his voice low and hostile as he turned the sign from open to closed, his eyes never leaving the owner.

Kedrin retreated to behind the counter. “I um…” His throat was as dry as sand and he swallowed to get some moisture back so he could speak properly. “I don’t know who-” He cleared his throat again. “Who you are referring to. Perhaps-”

“There’s not point in lying to him. If I can tell you are, he definitely can.”

Kedrin’s eyes darted to the bigger one who had offered the advice, but he had to bring his attention back to the tattooed soldier who was staring at him with such cold and dark eyes that fear creeped up his spine, making his hair stand on end and goosebumps rise on his flesh.

“Where is she?” Hunter asked again as he pushed off the door and steadily walked towards the man.

“I’m- I’m afraid I don’t- don’t have the answer you seek.” Kedrin stuttered. As the soldier drew closer, Kedrin reached under the table and grabbed the blaster he kept concealed there. But, as he lifted it out, in the blink of an eye, the weapon was shot out of his hand and his head was smacked down and being pressed harshly into the countertop- a strong hand on the back of his neck reducing his struggles to break free to be no more than a pitiful effort. His resistance ceased altogether when he felt the sharp tip of a blade being pushed into the back of his hand and he cried out in discomfort as the metal broke the skin and blood began to spill from the cut but there would be no respite for him.

“Try again.” Hunter hissed as he brought his head down to the man’s level.

But all Kedrin could do was whimper in pain.

“She was here. We know she was here. Where did she go?” Hunter growled into his ear, applying more pressure to the point of the blade, ignoring the agonised yelp.

“I don’t know!” Kedrin protested in distress, his voice slightly muffled as his lips touched the cold material of the counter. He hated this part of the job, it wasn’t his fault he had access to other ports of information, it just worked out that way and for the most part he hadn’t gotten into too much bother. But ever since that Jedi woman had come to him with her threats, he’d vowed to himself that he would turn over a new leaf. He’d leave this element of his work behind, and he wouldn’t just be a pushover to whatever or whoever came in demanding his extra services. He felt the hand leave the back of his neck. He uneasily straightened up and tenderly analysed his injury on his hand but was grateful to see that it had felt and looked worse than it was. He took out a handkerchief from the lapel of his jacket and wrapped it up before he tidied his hair in an attempt to regain some calm and control over the situation. “Now, I ask that you leave this instance before I call the proper authorities.” He demanded, but he couldn’t shake the quiver in his speech which removed any forcefulness. He walked around the counter and gestured to the door.

Hunter ignored his requested. He simply took a step back and nodded sharply to Wrecker who cracked his knuckles and neck in intimidation.

Well, he could always start next week. “Wait wait wait! I actually might have something!” Kedrin back peddled fearfully as the larger one stalked towards him and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, raising him to his tiptoes. “My brother runs our partner pawn shop on Christophsis and he’s said there’s been Jedi activity there. Apparently, it’s been going on for a while now. Could be who you’re looking for?”

Wrecker glanced back at Hunter who signalled to him to drop the man.

Hunter silently turned on his heels and led the way out of the shop and back to the Marauder. He’d been powerless for far too long and had failed one too many times but that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

This time they weren’t going to miss you.

Christophsis

When the hour had finally got late enough, you grabbed your blaster and sheathed your vibroblade and made the final adjustments to your armour before you sneakily opened your door to dark and empty main room of the run-down apartment. You pulled your hood and mask up as you stepped out and headed for the exit.

You got as far as activating the panel for the door to open before the lights turned on.

“You’re going out again.”

You closed the door and huffed out an irritated breath. You swivelled on your heels to see Lyra standing in the doorway of her room. You tugged down your mask. “Yeah… and?”

“And I thought after the last time, you were going to take some time and-”

“You know I can’t do that.” You interrupted icily.

“You’ve barely recovered. I just think-”

“I’ve recovered enough.”

“It’s just one more night. If not for your sake, then do it for mine… please.”

“We’ve already settled here for you, didn’t we?” You retorted.

“After I begged you too! If it were up to you, we’d still be living on that hellhole of a ship and never staying anywhere for more than two weeks! And I don’t know if what we have right now is all that better!”

“I gave you an out months ago! Back on Ord Mantell and again on Corellia! You didn’t have to follow me!” You snapped angrily.

Lyra scoffed. “Corellia was when you finally deemed it fit to fill me in on the whole story after I saw you choke the life out of a man without laying a hand on him. I had known something was off in the weeks since Ord Mantell and then Corellia told me you needed someone. Forgive me if I wanted to stick around to try to help you!”

“I don’t need saving.” You said tightly. “And anyway, he got what was coming to him.” You said utterly uncaring with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Now, can I go now? Are you done scolding me?”

Lyra looked at you imploringly. “Don’t you see what this is doing to you? You’re losing who you are and it’s-”

You couldn’t listen to the speech again. “I’m not doing this with you again, Lyra. Just go back to bed and I’ll be back later.”

Lyra looked at you in disbelief. “Later? Last time you said that I didn’t see you for three weeks and you came back tortured and half-dead! You’re no good to them if you die in the process of finding them!”

You just shook your head and lifted your mask and turned to open the door again.

“I can’t watch you kill yourself for this anymore.” Lyra said quietly to your back, her words laced with pity and sadness.

“Then don’t look.” With that, you stepped outside into the night.

Kirion stepped into the small kitchen in the back of his shop and sifted through the second cupboard. Instinct meant he didn’t need the light and he found what he was looking for.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Kirion yelped and dropped his mug. It smashed to the ground but that was not his concern anymore. The dark outline by the window was. “I don’t want any trouble.” His voice trembling.

“Do you know what they say about people who can’t sleep at night, Kirion?” You asked as you hopped off the counter, the yellow hue of the streetlights coming through the window illuminating your figure.

“N- no.”

“Plagued by a guilty conscience. The crushing weight of knowing you’re not doing enough, or you’ve gone too far can get to you. Or say, being a pawn shop owner intent on ripping everyone off for that extra bit of profit.”

Kirion cleared his throat nervously. He didn’t know how you knew that, but you’d gathered quite the reputation in the time you’d lived here, and he didn’t want you around. “Why are you here then?” He asked shakily. “Guilty conscience too?”

You laughed humourlessly. “You get the pleasure of my company because you have something for me.” Somewhere deep down, you had a different answer, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to bring that to the surface. It would get you nowhere.

“I don’t. I swear I-”

“Oh, this’ll go a lot better if you don’t lie to me.” You said, your voice hardening. You patted him roughly on the shoulder as you stepped past him.

“I don’t know if I have the information you’re looking for.”

“You know who I am?” You flicked the light on and waltzed into the storefront filled with clear glass cases with various pawned off items. Heirlooms, artifacts, jewellery, random items- all seemed to have a place here, whether they were genuine or not. You beckoned him to come in.

“It’s um kind of hard not to.” He wringed his hands anxiously as he followed you in and signalled to the front of the store. He took that opportunity to press the button under the table by the credit register.

You followed his stare and chuckled as you saw the backs of the posters in the front window. “I can sign one for you later.” You started scanning variety of items he possessed. “Quite the business you’ve got here.”

“Keeps-” He swallowed nervously. “Keeps the credits coming in.”

“Shame a lot of it is all garbage.” You smashed your elbow against one of the glass panels. “Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber?” You snickered as you picked up the item and sure enough, you got nothing from it. “Please. Nothing here but a bunch of dressed up metal material and a design anyone with access to an old holonet could copy. Then again, you probably knew that, but it doesn’t stop you underpaying for it and then charging a steep fee for the poor sucker that falls for it.”

Kirion gulped as he watched you continue your assault on his store.

You shattered a few more glass panes with claims of ‘Jedi artifacts’ in them. “Some of this is just embarrassing. You actual convince people that this stuff is worth the price?”

“What do you want?” Kirion interjected swiftly as he saw you getting ready to break another one.

You paused your movement and angled yourself to face him. You mimed applause. “That’s the right question. See, you gave yourself away earlier, Kirion. I’d expect you to know who I am, but to know that I’m after information? You had no way of knowing that, not officially and it’s the fact that you do know, that makes you of use to me.”

“Of use?” Kirion repeated fretfully.

You stalked closer to the desk register, the broken glass crunching beneath your feet. “You run this place in a back alley and get everyone from all walks of life coming in here pawning off their shit that you then rip off, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. What I do give a fuck about is that you hear things. People will tell you their stories, the things they’ve seen and overheard in the streets or on their travels. You are a fountain of knowledge of the underground happenings in this galaxy. Or, at the very least, you know people that run in the circles that have what I’m searching for.

“I-”

You placed a finger on his lips to shush him. “Here’s how this will work: So long as you don’t lie to me, and you don’t call the Empire, I won’t hurt you and you get to keep your life. Are we clear?” You removed your finger.

“C-crystal.” Kirion stuttered, very much regretting what he’d done in the beginning of this meeting.

“Good.” You released a short breath. “Now, I’m looking for a group of clones. They don’t look like the ones you may come across these days, rare as that seems to be now. One wears a red bandana and has a tattoo on the left-side of his face. Looks like this.” You pointed to the white insignia on your top. “But it’s black. The other is tall and bald with a scar on his left temple and he’s blind in his left eye. Heard of anyone like that?”

“I don’t know. No one like that’s come here.” Kirion shifted his feet awkwardly.

You tossed your head back in aggravation. “I really don’t have time for this.” You summoned the Force and lifted him against the wall and started to compress his airway. “I told you; I don’t like liars.” You gave him a pitying stare as he couldn’t help but clutch desperately at his throat. “Wanna try again?” You relaxed your hold slightly to give him the chance to speak.

“Okay- they- they- could be- be- coming here.” He gasped.

“They’re coming here?” You double checked as you eased your grip and let him get his feet back on the ground.

Kirion panted as he felt the invisible hold around his neck loosen. “Yes, my other store got a visit from some men that match what you’re saying. The manager there told them there was a Jedi here and called me earlier to let me know they might pass this way. That’s all I know, please, get out!”

You narrowed your eyes at him because despite his now honest words, you could tell he was getting anxious, and it wasn’t all because of you now. It was then that you heard the familiar pounding footsteps grow closer and halt outside the front door. You released an exasperated sigh and tutted. “Kirion… I thought we had an understanding.”

“No- wait! I-”

You called on the Force and snapped his neck before he had a chance to finish his plea and a second later, you heard the door crash open.

“You’re-”

“Under arrest?” You finished as you watched Kirion’s limp body slide to the floor. You heaved a sigh and turned to face the squad of ten stormtroopers that were lining the rows and blocking the path between you and the door.

“Get-”

“On my knees? Place my hands behind my head?” You interrupted, boredom evident in your tone as you crossed your arms and leaned against the till counter.

The troopers faltered slightly at your blatant dismissiveness of them.

You pretended to look confused for a moment. “Now, I can never keep track of where the Empire is in that whole phasing out thing so I always gotta ask this- any of you got a CT number?” You straightened up and hovered your hand over your blaster. “It’s always much simpler when none of you do.”

“Last chance, Jedi!” One of them called out as they readjusted their stances.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah… you all say the same thing.”

You quietly walked into your place and pulled your hood and mask down, ignoring the sting of pain as the material caught on the cuts on the bridge of your nose and your lip. You ran your tongue along your mouth and could still taste the harsh metallic taste of blood as it continued to ooze from the wound. Your nose was also still bleeding so you turned on the dim kitchen light to find something to stop it.

“Thought you’d be outta here by now.” You commented cooly without looking up as you heard her door open, and the soft padding of footsteps walk towards you. You fished out a cloth and ran it under some cold water and wiped away the congealed blood on your face before you held it to your nose.

“We don’t have a ship anymore, remember?” Lyra reminded you as she sat by the small kitchen table.

You’d forgotten about that. After the two of you had found this place, you’d sold it to someone who claimed to have word from Hunter. Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a rather bad deal and it was your first experience of dealing with the Imperials stationed here. “There are transports.”

Lyra just shook her head at you. “You still don’t get it.”

“Don’t really see what there is to get. Just hop on the next ship outta here, I won’t stop you.”

“I care about you, dumbass. Whatever is happening to you, I can’t just leave you alone in it.” Lyra replied wearily. Part of her wanted to, she’d even started packing a bag this time, but after these months spent with you and especially after what you went through recently told her you were one step away from a full-on breakdown and whether you would admit it or not, you still needed someone.

You ground out a sigh and stared down at the floor. She kept doing this. She kept having that faith in you that you couldn’t see but you didn’t deserve it. She should leave, she’d be better off without you but you didn’t have it in you to give her that final push. So, you worked on freezing her out, pushing her away until she realised you weren’t good for her or anyone else. But she refused, she was still here with you, and you couldn’t fathom why.

“Did you get what you were looking for?” Lyra asked, deliberately avoiding asking the state of the people that had clearly got in your way tonight. She’d seen what you were capable of but found that living in as much ignorance as she could saved her a lot of trouble. That and reminding herself you were not yourself right now.

“Yup.” You rinsed out the cloth and got ready to move into your room.

“I need to check your stitches. You weren’t ready for a fight yet.”

You knew what she would find if she looked. “No, you don’t.”

“(Y/N), let me see.” Lyra caught your arm as you went to move past her.

You huffed out another irritated breath but took your armour off before you lifted your first layer over your head. “Knock yourself out.”

She pushed up your vest top. “Yeah, you ripped a few open.” Lyra winced as she saw the lines of blood secreting from the sore and irritated looking now open wounds on your back.

“It’s fine.” You said dismissively. The pain wasn’t bothering you. You needed to come up with a plan of how to know when they got here.

“It’s not. Sit down.” She insisted as she went for the medkit. She had gotten well-acquainted with the item over the months, the most recent incident in particular had really tested her skills.

You released a resigned sigh and sat across from her and let her start cleaning them and closing them up again.

“They’re coming here, Lyra.” You found yourself whispering into the silence.

Lyra paused her process. “You’ve been told that before. The same thing happened on Cermau a couple months ago and it didn’t pan out. You-”

“I know what happened on Cermau. This isn’t like that.” You said defensively. It had to be different. You thought to yourself. You weren’t sure how many more dead ends you could take.

Lyra finished up the last few stitches. “You can’t know that.”

As soon as you felt her complete that last stitch, you stood. “Yes, I can.” You grabbed your armour and strode had over to your room without another word and shut the door.

You braced your hands against it and took a few deep breaths. You did have a way you could do but it had been so long since you’d gone near it, and you didn’t know if you could cope with the failure it might bring.

You settled in the middle of your crappy bed, the mattress sinking to the bedframe beneath as you shifted around to attempt to find some level of comfort. When you had found what you figured would be the ‘best’ spot, you crossed your legs and placed your hands on your knees.

You inhaled slowly, deeply, blocking out all the distractions of your mind and the sounds of the late-night life outside, and closed your eyes. You reached into the Force but what met you wasn’t any familiar signature. It was scenes and voices that you had tried so hard to forget.

Flashes of the people you’d hurt… you’d killed.

All that happened to you a week ago.

Tech hanging below the rail car.

Plan 99.

Omega, unconscious and injured on the ground.

Such an exquisite creature.

The torture he made you go through... and enjoyed.

His words to Hunter- To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.

Omega being carried off.

Hemlock letting you and Hunter have one last goodbye before you were taken away.

I love you.

No, it was too much. You couldn’t do it. Your breathing was shaky as you tore yourself out. You wiped the cold sweat from your palms. “Come on, get it together.” You told yourself as you took a long calming breath. You needed to do this right.

You centred yourself and went again. Except this time, all you could see was a vast space of darkness. No light, no hope, only darkness. Was this to be your fate? To be tormented by the fact you had let yourself fall and there was nothing left for you. How could you find them in this? You had no light left in you to give.

Spark.

You felt yourself twitch in discomfort. You knew that voice. That name. Only one person ever called you that.

Spark, you’re still not focused.

Let go of your anger. You’re not as lost as you view yourself to be.

No, no it couldn’t be. How could it be? No, this wasn’t right. You pulled yourself out and you looked around your room in a blind panic as you fought to get your distressed breathing back under control.

But it was only you in there. How could you hear him? It had to be some trick your mind was playing on you. Payback for all you’d done.

You exhaled heavily and braced your hands behind your neck as you looked to the ceiling. You stood and paced the confined space, shaking your hands as if you could shake away the bad feeling sitting on your chest.

You sat back on the bed and rolled your shoulders as you found your focus again. Faint rays of sun now came through the cracks in your window along with the sound of rain pattering against the fractured glass, but the new time meant nothing to you.

You didn’t care how long it would take; you were going to find them.

Hunter and Wrecker walked out of the ship and departed the bay to enter the streets of Christophsis- the rain sliding down their armour as they moved between the crowds.

“Well, we’re in the right place.” Wrecker commented as he nudged Hunter in the direction of the first holoscreen that had your image appear and a quick look at the immediate buildings followed that theme since they all had multiple paper posters in their windows and on their doors.

Hunter swallowed tightly as he saw holographic picture of you. There’d been one too many ‘right places’ in his search for you. He wasn’t going to accept that philosophy until he had something more than a wanted sign for you. “Come on. We’ll start with Kendrin’s brother.”

“So, you’re saying you saw a figure head in that direction after the disturbance last night?” A trooper pointed in said direction as she questioned the current resident on her list whilst the rest of her squad proceeded to clear the pawnshop.

“This looks like her handiwork, Sarge.” Wrecker uttered from the corner of the street they were observing from as he studied the scene ahead. Squads of troopers had cornered off the street and where questioning the civilians that appeared to live in the neighbourhood. And being carried out on stretchers were the dead bodies of troopers, but not all had blaster burns on their armour.

Hunter nodded his agreement and felt his heart beat that little bit faster with the flutter of hope. “Come on, we can’t stay here too long.” He directed as he and Wrecker turned away from the pawnshop.

As Hunter began to track your movements based on what he’d heard the trooper say, this finally being the right location was starting to feel a lot more plausible now.

There it was! You saw that faint glimmer of light in all the dark. It had to be them! You could feel it!

You jumped from your bed and grabbed your top and armour, hastily putting them on as you opened your door and bolted for the exit.

The weather had taken a turn for the worst, but you barely registered the pouring rain as you left the building. Your clothes were already soaked but it didn’t matter, you were too focused on holding onto that feeling of them.

“You’re the Jedi everyone is searching for.”

You whipped out your blaster and turned in the direction of the voice.

“No, wait! I don’t mean you any harm!” She came out from behind the skip with her hands in the air. “My name is-”

“Don’t tell me.” You interrupted sharply as you studied the Twilek before you. “How’d you find me?” You asked coldly. You didn’t lower your blaster either.

“It wasn’t easy. I’ve been following you since I knew of your arrival here. I thought I’d lost you when you disappeared for those three weeks.”

The fact you hadn’t sensed her presence at all told you that you were not what you used to be. You never used to be so sloppy. “I can’t have you knowing where I am.” You rested your hand over the trigger.

“Wait!” She reached a hand out to you. “I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t. I just need your help!”

“My help?” You repeated. “I can’t help you and I’ve got somewhere to be so-”

“Please.” She begged. “My sister, she’s sick and we barely have enough credits to feed ourselves, let alone get medicine.”

“Not my problem, I’m sorry.” Satisfied though that she wasn’t a true threat, you put your blaster away and got ready to leave.

“It wasn’t my sister’s problem that she got caught in a blaster fight and her wound got infected! No one asks for that!”

That made you pause. You’d had your fair share of shootouts in this place but you’d also you’re your best to minimise the damage to outsiders. “Where was the fight?” You found yourself asking quietly.

“About a month ago by the old shipyard on the outskirts of the city. We’d been told we could find some cheap transport off world, but something went down with the Imperials stationed there and my sister… I didn’t tug her down fast enough. I didn’t know what to do and then I heard of the Jedi that had landed in Christophsis and I knew I had to find you.”

A month ago… but that was where and when you’d gone to sell the ship… where’d you’d first been ambushed by the Imperials… no, there wasn’t meant to be anyone else there. Maybe you could… no, you didn’t have the time. Your aim was always good, it wouldn’t have been your shot that hit her. “I can’t.” You said dismissively, but there was a fading sense of conviction in your voice. Some part of you wanted to do the right thing by her. But it wasn’t enough to stop you pushing past her.

“I thought Jedi helped people!”

You stopped in your tracks and made a noise of resigned frustration as you turned around to face the young Twilek. “Wait here.”

You hastily ran back into your building, silently entered, and grabbed a few spare medical supplies from your kit before you ran back out to meet her again. “Alright, show me.”

Your place looked like a luxurious penthouse compared to where this young twilek and her sister were staying. It was virtually a single room with cracks in the walls and ceiling and there was a distinct damp aroma in the air. It was no wonder that they wanted to leave this place.

You then saw the smaller and younger twilek lying on a small mattress in the middle of the floor. There were drops of sweat dotted across her brow and she was shivering uncontrollably.

You’d never wanted anyone innocent to be affected by what you were doing yet it had happened with Lyra and now this child. “I’m sorry.” You whispered to her as you kneeled down beside her. You saw the bloodstain on her clothing and delicately lifted the end of her shirt to see the wound on her hip being covered by nothing more than a ripped piece of a shirt.

“Can you help her?”

You half- turned to face the sister who was looking on fretfully. “I can clean the wound and reclose it. After that, it’ll be down to her. But the fact that she’d held on for so long is a good sign. She’s strong, she should be okay.”

The sister sighed in relief.

You brought out the supplies and recleaned and applied to bacta before you re-dressed the wound. “Do you have water?” You asked.

The sister nodded and dashed over to grab a cannister. She passed it to you.

“Lift her head.” You instructed gently.

She murmured words of comfort to her sister as she propped up her head.

As tenderly but as effectively as you could, you pushed the pill past her lips and got her to swallow it down with some water.

When her breathing had grown more controlled and her shivering had subsided, you go to your feet. “I’m leaving you some bacta and wound dressings along with some pills that’ll help with the fever. That’s all I can do now.”

“Thank you.” She clasped your hand tightly. “I won’t forget this.”

“It’s better that you do.” You said grimly. “And once she’s better, if you still need a way out of here, use the actual transports off this planet.” You chucked a bag of credits on the ground before you walked out of the room.

You rounded the corner but swiftly pressed your back against the wall since there was a group of stormtroopers directly in your path. You would have no chance of finding them with those soldiers in your way. You needed to find a way around them and what better way to do that than going from roof to roof. You summoned the Force and jumped to the top of the building and got moving.

You would get a better view from above anyway.

When another small squad of troopers made their presence known ahead, Hunter signalled him and Wrecker to an alleyway out of the line of their sight. He knew they were close to you, but the Imperial presence was making it hard to track you effectively.

“We can’t keep hiding like this, Hunter.” Wrecker grunted in frustration.

“I know, Wrecker.” Hunter agreed, equally as irritated. “If I could just-” He stopped suddenly.

“Hunter?”

“Someone’s here.” Hunter muttered quietly as his hand fell over his blaster.

“You’re getting sloppy, Sergeant. I’ve been following you the past 3 blocks.”

The voice that he’d been longing to hear and that was so familiar, he’d recognise it anywhere. His breath hitched with the realisation at what this finally meant. Hunter took off his helmet and turned around to the distant sound of feet hitting a puddle in the ground. And it was you. Standing there before him. It was finally you.

“Hello, Hunter.” You said softly, so softly you could barely hear the words themselves due to the sound of your own heart thundering in your ears. If it wasn’t for the flash of recognition in his eyes or the way Wrecker’s jaw dropped as he propped his helmet atop his head, you wouldn’t have been certain that you’d said anything at all. You tugged down your coverings and let yourself be unprotected to the rain.

He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Hunter dropped his helmet and something akin to a choked gasp fell from his mouth as he could at long last lay his eyes on you. He started to slowly walk towards you but that soon became a run, water kicking up against him, but he didn’t care.

Your feet slapped against the wet ground as you met him halfway and crashed into his arms with a thankful sigh and buried your face in his neck. Even as you held him tightly to you, part of you still couldn’t believe that it was him. You felt something swell in your heart, a feeling you couldn’t place but knew you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Did you deserve this? Did you deserve to have him back after all you’d done? Pushing the thought away, you readjusted your embrace as if you could somehow hold him even closer.

He twisted his hands in your clothing and breathed you in. He’d imagined this moment for so long. When things seemed too dark and hopeless, he’d clung on to this. To think about how it would feel to finally see you again. To hold you again. And imagination couldn’t compare to the utter joy in his heart that reality brought him. He almost didn’t want to let you go for fear that you could be taken away again but practicality took precedence, the two of you couldn’t stay this way forever, as much as he might want to.

Tears mixed with rain streamed down both your cheeks as you parted from one another.

You cupped his face in your hands. “You’re here? You’re actually here?” You murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. You’d driven yourself crazy with picturing this moment, you needed to make sure this wasn’t your brain’s idea of a cruel joke.

Hunter removed your hands from his face and kissed your gloved knuckles. “I’m here.” He whispered back, his breathing still shaky as he pressed pressing his forehead into yours.

“You’re here.” You repeated as you looked into his soft brown eyes.

Hunter’s thumb gently caressed the cut on your lip, and he noticed the other wound on your nose. “Did they-”

You pulled his hand away. “Doesn’t matter. This is all I care about right now.”

Before Hunter could push the matter, he felt his brother approach.

“And what about me?”

You glanced past Hunter to the indignant but affectionate voice. “Hi, Wrecker.” You met his open armed invitation and let him swing your around as he hugged you.

“Good to see you, (Y/N)!”

“How’d you find me?” You asked as he placed you back down.

“You didn’t make it easy.” Wrecker griped. “We always seemed to be two steps behind you.”

“I haven’t exactly been hiding though.” You disputed as you pointed to a discarded wanted poster on the ground beside you.

“Between the Imperials and dead end leads and your rather annoying ability to hide in plain sight, it was tough. We got a lucky break with a guy whose brother owned another pawn shop here. Saw the results of a fight and figured we’d finally caught up with you.” Hunter explained as he came to stand in front of you and took his helmet from his brother.

You gulped. You’d be careful to make sure the people you’d gone after had no one they’d be leaving behind. You didn’t realise you’d messed up with that this time. “He- he had a brother?”

Hunter tilted his head at the unusually emotive response. “Apparently but I’m assuming you had a good reason for ending it the way you did.”

You coughed. “Yeah, totally.” You straightened your back and changed the subject. “Where’s Echo?”

“Using his contact to try to get more intel on Hemlock. We still don’t know where he’s holding Omega.” Hunter kicked the ground. “Don’t suppose you have anything?”

“I wish I did but everything I gathered was either old or what we knew already. He’s good at laying low.” You seethed.

“We’ll get him, though. We have too.” Wrecker stated firmly.

“How soon can you leave?” Hunter asked.

“Um, well-” You cut yourself off as your sight drifted past Hunter’s shoulder to the end of the alley at the lone trooper that had a blaster pointed at Hunter’s back.

“Watch out!” You yelled as you pushed Hunter out the way of the incoming blaster bolt. You drew your blaster and fired a shot that landed in the centre of the trooper’s chest, and he dropped to the ground. But you knew, where there was one stormtrooper, there would be at least five more behind them.

“We need to move out.” Hunter urged as he got back to his feet and put his helmet on. “A firefight will draw too much attention.”

“No time.” You stated simply as you pulled your hood and mask back up.

“We’ve got more incoming!” Wrecker confirmed as he lowered his helmet and opened fire on the small squad of troopers that had arrived.

The three of you took cover behind a skip, only firing defensive shots back. You needed to draw the soldiers closer before going on the offensive.

When they had gotten close enough, Hunter threw a smoke bomb, the action allowing the three of you to advance and take out the troopers one shot at a time.

As the firefight continued, however, you began to feel unsteady on your feet and your movements felt unbalanced. Your tingling limbs ensured that your aim was skewed too. All that, combined with the wetness you felt pooling from your stomach meant the trooper had better aim than you credited them for- you’d been hit. You couldn’t afford to think about what this meant, right now, you needed to get outta here.

But you’d been distracted long enough for one downed soldier you’d dismissed as being a threat to come around and jab their blaster against your knee. You grunted with the impact but turned your blaster on him and he lay limp on the ground.

Hunter and Wrecker tidied off the few retreating stragglers. They could deal with this small group but anything more would prove difficult.

With the last trooper taken care of, you braced yourself against the wet wall. The fading adrenaline in your system now being replaced by agony and you ripped your mask down and took deep but laboured breaths.

“Their reinforcements won’t be long. We made a bit of noise.” Wrecker said as he holstered his blaster.

But Hunter wasn’t paying attention to what Wrecker was saying. His gaze was fixed on you and the way you were struggling to hold yourself up against the wall. “(Y/N), what-” He stopped as he saw the crimson drops that mixed with the rainwater drip from the hand pressed to your stomach onto the ground. No, no, no. He thought to himself. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose you when he’d only just found you again.

Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground, Hunter catching your shoulder was the only reason you were able to stay sitting up but without the distraction of the fight, the pain was overwhelming. Black spots danced in the corners of your vision, but you couldn’t succumb to them, not now. Not after all this. You tried to lift your head to speak but all that left your mouth was a tortured groan.

As collected as he wanted to be to deal with this, he couldn’t totally keep his panic at bay. His hands trembled as he attempted to get you to look at him. He delicately brushed some loose strands of hair from your face. “Sshh, I’ve got you.” He whispered tenderly, fighting to keep the worry out of his voice. What made it all the worse was that he knew this wound didn’t occur through the fight they’d just seen out, you’d been hurt shoving him out the way of that first shot that drew the rest of the stormtroopers in.

How could he have allowed this to happen? What good were his enhanced senses if he couldn’t protect the people he loved. You shouldn’t have needed to push him out the way of that blaster bolt, he should’ve known the trooper was there and now you were paying the price for his mistake.

“What can we do?” Wrecker asked quickly.

You winced and tried for words again. “Medical centres are a no. Where’s- where’s the ship?”

“Landing bay 6.” Wrecker replied.

You inhaled sharply. Your current state made things all too easy for the Imperials to catch you making your way there. “Too far. We- we gotta get to my place. She- she might kill me but- argh!” You broke off with a cry of pain as you reached a hand up to Hunter. “But it’s safe there and- and she’ll know what to do.”

“Hold on.” Hunter rasped as he took a grip of your forearm and signalled to Wrecker to keep an eye out as he pulled you to your feet.

You pressed your hand into your side with a pained gasp as Hunter put his arm around you and supported most of your weight and the three of you got on the move.

“This is it?” Wrecker asked- his scepticism evident despite the pressing matter at hand- as he stared at the condemned building.

“All the regular penthouses were taken.” You kidded before you swayed on your feet as a wave of dizziness struck.

“Woah, easy.” Hunter cautioned as he strengthened his grip.

“Second floor.” You hissed. “And mind the fourth step on the second staircase. Half of it is missing.”

“It can never just be simple.” Hunter grumbled anxiously as Wrecker opened the decrepit door to the building.

“Would it really be a reunion if everything went well?” You joked deliriously.

“Right now, yes I would definitely prefer it.” Hunter fretted as he saw your head dip. You were losing the battle of staying conscious with each passing second. The next time it happened, he wasn’t sure you would be able to lift your head again.

Lyra had barely any time to process the familiar people standing in her doorway as she answered the pounding knock. All she could do was stare at you, half collapsed against Hunter’s side, your hand cradling your stomach, and then her eyes caught sight of the trail of blood that had followed your path up. “What-”

“Hey, girl. Remember- remember how I promised I wouldn’t put you through something like this again? Turns out, I shouldn’t- shouldn’t have done that.” You said through gritted teeth before you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward, prompting Hunter to lift you up.

“Please.” The hoarse plea was all Hunter managed to say.

“Lay her here.” Lyra quickly stepped aside to let the three of you in and pointed to the couch.

Hunter hustled inside and delicately placed you on the worn soft. He took off his helmet and kneeled by your head and stroked your hair back from your forehead. “You’re going to be alright. You need to hold on for me, okay? I’m not losing you again.” He whispered against your temple before he left a light kiss on your brow.

“Good news, it’s not as bad as last time.” Lyra said as she examined the wound before getting up to go gather the medical supplies.

“The bar is rather low on that front, Lyra.” You moaned.

“Last time?” Hunter found himself asking as he tore his stare from your bloody injury to Lyra.

Lyra didn’t respond, she was too busy staring at the depleted supply of medical care. She took a deep breath and braced her hands against the countertop. “(Y/N)… what happened to the bacta?”

Seemingly forgetting that you were currently in severe pain and bleeding out, you went to prop yourself up but Hunter’s hand gently pushing against your shoulder stopped you. “Hey.” You protested wearily.

“You can answer the question like that.” Hunter chastised.

“The bacta?” Lyra pressed as she rifled through the other cupboards in case it had somehow been misplaced.

No, not yet. You told yourself as the black dots returned. You blinked them away and took a strained breath before you answered. “I- I may have given it away…”

“You-” Lyra had to take a deep, calming breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You gave it away? What in all the galaxy would possess you to do that?”

“Well, I saw someone in need and decided-” You broke off with another pained wince. “Decided to finally be a good citizen.”

Lyra released an exasperated sigh. “Do I need to remind you of your track record? You need bacta like the rest of us need water.”

“In my defence, I wasn’t planning on needing it anymore. This- this time really wasn’t my fault.”

“I quite frankly don’t give a fuck! You can’t just-”

“Can we do this later?” Hunter interrupted as he saw your face contort in discomfort. “Preferably when she’s able to hold a conversation without convulsing in pain?”

“I can run back to our ship and get some.” Wrecker offered as he lifted his helmet.

“Go.” Hunter said with a nod, but Lyra held out a hand to stop the bigger clone from going.

“She doesn’t have that kinda time. I can cauterise it the old-fashioned way, but it’ll just hurt like hell.” Lyra said with a grimace.

“That’s fine because I don’t think I’m going to be conscious for much longer.” The darkness encroaching on your vision was all too tempting and you were completely exhausted.

“No, you stay awake.” Lyra ordered sternly.

Hunter and Wrecker turned their attention sharply to you.

“Come on, (Y/N). You gotta hang in there.” Wrecker urged as he reached over the back of the couch and placed a large hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, keep your eyes on me.” Hunter begged as he saw them flicker open and shut but it was a battle that he knew you were going to lose.

You wanted to; you really did but you just couldn’t. You shut your eyes and embraced the peace of the darkness.

“Hunter, she’s still breathing right?” Lyra asked as she picked up the last few things she needed.

“Shallowly but yes.” Hunter said with a thankful sigh.

“That’s good enough.” Lyra ran back to the couch and began to start to process of stabilising you.

You were in a dim corridor. The only light seemed to at the end of the long passageway. You made to walk towards it, hoping it would show you a way out but as you walked, it seemed to move away from you. You broke into a run but the distance between you and the light only grew. You paused your run as you thought about what this could mean. It was then though that a voice spoke up and a figure appeared next to you.

You won’t get to it.

You faced the figure. It almost sounded and looked like you but there was something off about it. There was a yellow shimmer in the eyes and the face was gaunt and mean-looking, with lips that seemed to be in a permanent sneer. The voice carried a cruel, sinister overtone that made your blood run cold and the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

It’ll keep staying away from you.

But why? You studied whatever it was before you as they circled you. When it walked, it was cast in constant shadow.

You think after all you’ve done; you can have that light back? You think you deserve it?

Before you could form a reply, your attention was drawn to a scene unfolding to your right.

Aww this was your first failure. But it brought me to the surface, so I remain pretty grateful.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the moment. You saw your master completely surrounded by battle droids, taking hit after hit. And you saw yourself as a Jedi Knight sprinting to reach him. You went to turn away, but a strong hand grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you to keep looking.

There’s you. Being too late to save him. Do you remember the last words you said to him?

You did and they were words you had regretted ever since.

‘Stubborn, foolish, out of touch, old timer whose only purpose was to be a pawn for the orders of the Jedi Council’ I believe they were.

Stop it.

He died knowing you failed him.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the final shot that sent your master crumbling to the ground.

You got a taste for it then.

Despite the fact you wanted to refuse, you found yourself opening your eyes to seeing yourself utterly decimate the remaining droids by your master’s dead body. You saw the merciless gleam in your eyes and the callous smile that graced your face as you destroyed them. You had enjoyed that. The scene finished with you repeatedly bringing your lightsaber down on the final droid, the blue blade moving in unrestrained fury. Why did you show me that? You asked bleakly.

But the darkness didn’t give you a proper answer. It only pushed an icy finger on your lips. Pay attention, we’re not done yet. It took you a while to accept that this was always in you. You worked on shutting me out. You managed for a while… but then she left.

You wanted nothing more than to leave this place and this darkness before you, but all control had been taken from your body. Your feet began moving of their own accord and you were directed to another moment on your left this time. You were stopped and the hand took a harsh grip of your neck again. You were forced to watch Ahsoka walk out the Council Chamber doors, with Anakin following her and then you viewed yourself in horror as you saw the rage written across your face and heard the venom in your words as you yelled at the Council. Had you really been that uncontrolled? That angry?

Even though you finally left those uptight pricks, you still insisted on keeping me hidden though. Rather irritating I must say. I wondered what it would take for you to accept me. And then he came into your life.

You were pushed along the hall again to the next part which was replaying your first interaction with Hunter and your chest felt tight. Leave him out of this.

Oh, but he’s the best part. Your figure taunted nastily.

The scene switched and were now being greeted with flashes of your intimate moments with Hunter. Enough.

The only reply came in the form was an unkind laugh.

Giving into that lust felt good, didn’t it? The possessiveness, the selfishness that came with having someone just for you was too enticing to pass up.

No, that wasn’t what it was at all. Stop.

You liked the feeling of knowing you could use that attachment to excuse any darker actions. You would be doing it for him, so it made it okay. It wasn’t love for him you were feeling, it was a love for the freedom to channel me that you craved. He was merely a convenient vessel.

No, you’re wrong! You insisted but your voice lacked conviction, everything was getting so twisted that you were now doubting the feelings you thought you never would.

The darkness just gave you a pitying look. Just keep watching and you’ll see I’m right.

So, you did. You were shoved further up the corridor to see you and the Batch together. Memories that you once would’ve looked back on in fondness were now tainted by pain and disappointment that you’d dragged them into your mess. The darkness took no notice of your distress, it just continued talking.

Much to my delight, you grew to care for all of that group. I knew that attachment would lead to something marvellous for us and then it finally happened.

You moved along to the next scene and your breathing grew uneven as the image of Eriadu appeared. You couldn’t bear seeing this again but once more, you were left with no choice but to hear Tech say that dreaded plan and watch him fall to his death.

Of course, he was another one you were too slow to save but-

You wouldn’t hear this. No, we didn’t have the time. There was nothing I could’ve done. What happened was-

Oh, I know you tried telling yourself that, but my very existence tells me that you know if you’d allowed me in earlier, the situation itself wouldn’t have happened. You’d have killed Gerrera before he even had a chance to set those explosives off.

No, you’re wrong. You said through a shaken whisper, but you didn’t believe the words you were saying anymore.

Although I must say, I’m glad you didn’t quite give in then since I am rather pleased with how it all turned out. His death was the catalyst to a glorious chain of events. So much loss and broken trust. Finally, you had the reason to welcome me without restraint or regret.

You felt your anger rise as the voice kept talking whilst the scene changed from his death to Cid’s betrayal and Omega being captured and you being separated from Hunter. Nothing about that had been a blessing. It couldn’t have been. Shut up. You snarled. But the figure only smugly beamed.

There it is. There’s that power. You can deny it all you want but that was the best thing that happened to you. You let me in and from that point on, nothing stopped you getting what you wanted. And it felt divine. You know it did. Look at how formidable you are with me being a part of things.

You were dragged along the hall and all that appeared around you were the people in the galaxy you’d threatened, brutalised, and murdered. You had no other option but to watch and hear their tortured pleas and screams. You didn’t need the darkness to talk you through these this time, you recalled very clearly that during all of this, you’d felt not one bit of remorse. You’d thought they deserved it. You’d fallen so far, and a way back now seemed impossible.

The darkness commented on a particular time where you were torturing a woman who’d been very difficult to track and get information from. Even when you did find her, she’d been loyal to the Empire, insisting you should’ve died with the rest of the Jedi traitors. You’d responded by cracking the individual bones in her fingers and hands before moving up to the bones in her arm. You’d broken her right clavicle before she’d finally told you what you needed to know. I particularly liked this moment. Do you remember how she couldn’t stand afterwards? All she could do was writhe on the floor in agony. Quite a humorous sight.

You remembered them all and it made you feel sick to your stomach now as you watched the endless stream of tormented and pained faces of people you had tortured and killed in your quest for information.

The last scene disappeared and despite the fact you had been walking along the corridor that whole time, the light had still remained far out of reach.

See? No matter how far you go, you’ll never reach that light. Why bother searching for it anymore? You know you’re better off alone. All you need is this power and you’ll be unstoppable. But since I know some part of you still cares for your clones, don’t trouble them with this. It’s not something that can be shared or fixed.

The figure faded and you collapsed to your knees in defeat. You had succumbed to that darkness and hurt and killed too many people. You’d crossed that line, and you weren’t sure there was a way back for you and you wouldn’t take Hunter down with you. Or Wrecker and Echo. They deserved a chance to rescue Omega and set things right, and if being with Hunter meant that chance would be at risk, you wouldn’t take that from them. Even if it would kill you, it would be the last thing you did to protect your family. ‘No attachments. There is no emotion, there is peace.’ You had to finally listen to that part of the Jedi Code that you had fought against for years and… and you would let them go.

Once it seemed things were more under control, Wrecker broke the quiet. “I’m going to go keep watch.” He said before walking out.

There were a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the quiet hiss of Lyra sealing shut your injury now that she’d cleaned it.

“Didn’t know you had this skill set.” Hunter said into the quiet as he watched Lyra.

“I tell myself it’s not so different from stitching and making clothes. Plus, she kinda made it that I had to learn quick. There were just some things she couldn’t handle on her own.”

There was a dip in conversation again.

“I was sorry to hear about your kid... and Tech.” Lyra said quietly as she worked on you. She placed a bandage over your now closed injury and started to put away the medical supplies.

The mention of his brother’s name had him stiffening his posture. “Yeah, well, we’re going to find her.”

Lyra nodded understandingly before she indicated to you. “She’s been non-stop since Ord Mantell. She wouldn’t rest until she found you. Didn’t matter how dangerous things got, she wouldn’t stop.”

Hunter continued to stroke your brow. “She’s not the only one.”

“I almost wished she would. I thought the search was going to kill her. Especially after what happened last time.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned this now. And from the dynamic between the two of you since arriving here, he figured there was key subtext he was missing. He glanced over to Lyra. “What are you talking about?”

Lyra took a short breath. “It was a few weeks ago. She-” Lyra stopped as she heard you let out a soft groan.

“Hey you.” Hunter said softly as you slowly opened your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You didn’t answer him. Whatever soreness you were experiencing wouldn’t come close to the misery your next course of action would cause you. “Thank you. Again.” You said to Lyra instead.

Lyra nodded. “I’ll go keep Wrecker company.” She said before grabbing her sniper rifle and making her exit.

Hunter brought his focus back to you and provided a supportive hand on your back as you sat up. “Take as long as you need. I figured once you’re feeling more up to it, you can say your goodbyes and leave with us. After-”

“You have to go.”

“Yes, I know…” Hunter said, tilting his head at you. “But you need a bit of time and-”

“No, you need to leave without me.”

Without you? No, you couldn’t mean that. “What’s-” He stopped for a moment to try and recover from the confusion your statement caused him. “What’s changed between that alleyway and now?”

You knew he wasn’t going to make this easy but every minute you had to do this was tearing you apart. “Everything has. The Empire knows what I am. It’ll add unnecessary heat.”

“We’ll cope.”

You swallowed harshly and grimaced as you readjusted your sitting position. “It’s not just that. Things changed when we got separated. I changed.”

“That doesn’t scare me.”

“It should. All I’ve done…” You trailed off and gulped. “I’m not who I used to be.”

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. But we can-”

“Hunter, I don’t belong with you anymore.”

Hunter couldn’t accept that. “You’re one of us. You always have been. Since the first moment you stepped in front of those droids on Devaron, you were one of us. I don’t understand why-”

“There’s someone else.” You blurted out and fuck you hated yourself for it. You knew by the way he recoiled from you and from deep hurt and betrayal that flashed across his face, you would’ve been better off hitting him. You knew you had to hurt him. Even if he left hating you, you could find a way to let him go. But you hated that you had to do it.

“There’s someone else.” Hunter repeated quietly, his throat bobbing as he kept his voice tight.

You had to push it. It was the only way, but it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you said the next words. You forced yourself to keep your voice cold and level. “I’ve moved on. I only needed to know that you were alive. And now I do. You can go now. Just leave and don’t think about me again. It’ll save us all a lot of bother.” You couldn’t face the wounded look in his eyes and you turned your own away from him and had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.

Hunter clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that again.” He implored.

He knew you too well. You wouldn’t do it. If you did, he would know you were lying. So, you opted for something worse- you would manipulate his heart. “If any part of you still cares about me, you will go. That’s all I want now. I need you to leave. You’ll only be hurting me more if you stay.” You said firmly as you faced him again.

You sounded so sure, and even if he thought he could see something in your eyes that took the conviction out of your words, he’d never want to cause you pain, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Better him be the one to take the hurt, no matter how unnatural it felt, no matter how much every fibre of his being yearned to stay by your side and work this out. So, Hunter got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Every part of me still cares about you.” He murmured back to you before the door opened and he walked out. He was walking out on you- something he thought he’d never do- and it left him feeling like he had a gaping hole in his chest.

As you heard the door shut, a broken sob left your lips and you let the tears fall.

“Where is she?” Lyra asked as Hunter came out from the door behind them.

“Keep her alive.” Hunter said numbly to Lyra before he walked away.

“Hunter-” Lyra started to say but the clone wasn’t stopping.

“Eh, well, I guess it was nice to see you.” Wrecker said hurriedly before he darted after his brother.

“Bye.” Lyra said with confusion as she watched the two clones go. She turned to go back inside and hopefully knock some sense into you.

You’d managed to drag yourself into the sanctity of your room, but the isolation wasn’t helping things. The regret you were feeling was overwhelming but what was done was done. You needed to stand by your choice, it was what was best for them, you just needed to learn how to cope. You needed something, anything, to distract your brain from the self-doubt running rampant in your head so, staying mindful of your wound, you tentatively sat back on your bed and closed your eyes, drowned out the pouring rain smacking against the glass, and found your centre again.

Not to your surprise, you were only surrounded by darkness. You’d let the last light in your life go, there was nothing left for you now.

Spark.

Not that voice. Not again, you couldn’t handle that. “No, I’m not doing this.”

Yes, you are. You need to listen to me, Spark.

You sighed and saw the figure of your old master appear in the vast space before you. “So, either I somehow took a turn and I’m dead or I’m hallucinating.”

Your master simply chuckled. Must it always be extremes with you?

“You taught me what I know, you tell me.”

Well, based off your past choices, I would say you’ve forgotten much of what I taught you.

“This is why you’re in my head? To lecture me about my choices? Yes, I broke the code, big whoop. I never liked it anyway. And now I’ve given into the dark side, sorry to have disappointed you.” You grumbled as you looked down at your feet.

He sighed. It hurt him to see you look so defeated, this wasn’t the young Jedi he’d raised. Evidently, you were going to need more help than he expected. This isn’t some meditative trick. I’ve always been with you, Spark, and now I’m with you because you need help. You’ve strayed from your path, and you need guidance.

“You’re a few months too late, Master.” The title came back into your vocabulary so naturally, you’d nearly missed the fact that you’d reverted back to your student/teacher dynamic so quickly.

That defeat you’re feeling is exactly why I’m here now. This dark side you seem to think is your destiny is not decided, but if you continue to stand by the decision that you just made, it will be. There’s a chance for you, Spark, don’t throw it away.

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him. “If you’ve truly been around for all of this, you’ll know what I’ve done. You’ve seen what I’ve become. I wasn’t as strong I thought I was.”

You haven’t fallen yet. He reiterated. What you’ve gone through would wreck most people, the fact that you’ve only strayed from the light now is a credit to you. But this choice you’ve made to let them go is what will seal your fate.

“What are you talking about? I was on this path long before what happened on Ord Mantell. I saw it!” You said, your voice rising in frustration and distress. Why was everyone around you so insistent that you could heal from this? You’d shown your true colours years ago, you were only doing what you were obviously meant for.

He raised his hands to calm you. Spark, listen to me. You’re not-

“I had to let him go! I had to let them all go! You should be glad, Master! I’m finally following the teaching you worked so hard on getting through to me!” Your breathing grew more uneven and the word that left your mouth were filled with self-loathing, but you couldn’t stop them. “I’m damaged goods, I have been from the beginning, and I couldn’t bring him down with me! I couldn’t bring any of them down with me!” You felt tears slide down your cheeks as the emotion you had been trying to hard to push down came crashing to the surface.

And is letting attachments go part of the Jedi or Sith philosophy? He asked gently.

His genteel manner caught you off guard. You huffed out a quick breath. “Why does that matter?”

Answer the question, please.

You released an agitated sigh. “Jedi, I guess but-”

And let me ask you this, you said you saw what you’ve done? How?

You regained some composure. “I don’t know how to describe what it was I saw, but whatever it was took me down a lovely stroll through memory lane and I saw what I was. There’s no denying it now.”

It was starting to make sense to him now and with this new understanding, he finally knew the best way to help you. Yes, the dark side can be very manipulative that way. Especially when it knows there’s been pain plenty of pain and sorrow. It preys upon that and I’m just sorry it got to you before I could.

“What are you talking about?”

What you saw, it wasn’t the whole truth.

Not the whole truth? “What do you mean?”

He looked at you with intrigue. What do you think I mean?

You inhaled deeply to find some patience. “Master, please. I’m not your padawan anymore.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement. You’ll always be my padawan, Spark. But I understand this may not be the best time for one of my lessons.

Despite everything, the nostalgia his teaching persona brought you had you humming out a quiet laugh. “I guess working together on whatever cryptic lesson you’re going to impart on me will be fine, for old times sake if nothing else. Just don’t leave it all to me. I’m not clear-headed enough to do all the thinking.”

He nodded and smiled knowingly at you. It will be less cryptic that the lessons I used to give you. Let us begin.

You knew that gleam in his eye and you forgot that no matter how agitated or frustrated you’d been growing up as his pupil, he’d always found a way to put you at ease and you’d been more open to learning again. Even dead, he still seemed to possess that ability. And it was because of that, you found yourself getting ready to welcome whatever wisdom he felt could get you out of this hell you’d put yourself in.

Now, I understand that you are feeling a lot of guilt and self-loathing, correct?

Feeling it? You felt like you were drowning in it.

And you have convinced yourself that your clones, particularly… Hunter, isn’t it? He waited for your nod before continuing, are better off without you because you’ve done too much. Stepped over that line one too many times? A lost cause, yes?

“I guess you could say that.” You mumbled.

He hummed in thought before he spoke again. You mentioned something about you were this way from the beginning. Can you tell me to which beginning you are referring to?

You inhaled shakily. “I- I saw you die again. I watched myself destroy the rest of those droids in undisciplined rage and- and I was reminded of what I’d said to you.”

Ah yes, that was quite the day. Rather humiliating on my part, I must say. I should’ve just listened to you from the start. My we exchanged some choice words. He ruminated with a small chuckle.

You remembered him having a rather dry sense of humour, but this just seemed absurd. You’re laughing about this?! I was awful to you! I saw you die and all I could do was wreak havoc on a group of droids and I enjoyed it! I held your dead body in my arms and the last thing I had done was insult you and forget everything you’d taught me for some fucking battle droids!”

He held up his hands to appease you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have laughed but that wasn’t quite how it went.

You furrowed your brow. “What? I saw it! I remember it pretty clearly, even without the reminder. I’m haunted by it and you’re telling me that wasn’t what happened?!”

He shook his head. Not quite. Remember, the dark side has a remarkable ability to alter events to fit its needs. It only picks out the moments necessary to draw out those darker emotions. What you saw was true, from a certain point of view, but it didn’t show you everything.

“Then what am I missing?” You asked, desperation in your voice because if there was anything that could help ease the ache from that day, you needed it.

I wasn’t dead when I hit the ground. Fret not, no amount of medical attention would’ve saved me. He interjected hastily as he saw the panic that graced your face. Although the sadder truth is I did in fact die in your arms but… He angled his head to catch your eye again as you had shied away from him upon hearing that. He started again, but your last words to me were not fuelled by irritation or cruelty, you apologised for what you said as well as how you handled those droids. You told me that I was the best teacher you’d ever had, and you promised you would continue to work on what I taught you and to make me proud. That was the last thing you said to me before I passed on. And I can honestly say, Spark, that you kept your promise, despite how it might seem currently.

You went to speak but found that you didn’t have the words. All these years spent being tormented by a memory that in fact had another side to it, could that be right? Seeing it again had made it seem all the more true but there was nothing but sincerity in his face and voice as he told you this. He wasn’t looking to feed you a false narrative, there was no vindictiveness in his tone.

You don’t have to believe me immediately, I know things have been tough but we’re going to go through this and I’m going to help you see the truth, okay? He said tenderly.

You could only nod.

Okay. He straightened up. I’m going to make an educated guess and say that if that incident was the starting point, the next situation would’ve been that unfortunate time with Ahsoka and the Jedi Council and also the day you decided to leave?

You gulped and found your voice again. “Um, yeah.”

And I expect you were shown yourself in an untamed rage with little concern over the words you used?

You gave a stiff nod of your head.

Uh huh, well, once again, you were shown a manipulated memory created from shame. You were unhappy, and I can’t say I blame you, they really fucked that up if you pardon the phrase.

You couldn’t help but snort at his gentlemanly manner and you were reminded of the many telling offs for language you’d received growing up.

And while you were disappointed in them and frustrated, you never lost control of yourself. Your voice was raised but level. You were clear in your points, and you never said anything untoward save for some unsavoury language sprinkled in. He watched you impart the familiar eye roll as he said that last statement, but he took that as a positive sign. Your attachment to Ahsoka didn’t cloud your judgment, your decision to leave was made with a steady heart and a focused head. And I watched you do it and I knew it was the best decision for you. It did set things in motion, but they were good things for you, Spark, and it’s important that you realise that again. He looked at you earnestly.

You held his gaze, and, in his eyes, you saw the master that had been with you through thick and thin. The master that had put up with your questions and doubts about the Jedi Order that the Jedi Council could hardly tolerate. You saw the master that had mentored you and fought by your side for years. He was one of the people that had known you best. He wouldn’t lie to you, and you felt your heart opening up to what he was saying to you.

Shall we continue? He asked after giving you a minute to process.

You shook your shoulders and exhaled heavily before you looked at him and give him a single, firm nod.

He had taken you through various events bit by bit. Pointing out that elements that demonstrated you were still being pulled towards the light. Things like you would’ve either left or killed Lyra the second she’d gotten you out of Ord Mantell and her use was over. Things like you wouldn’t have offered so many opportunities for people to talk to you before you injured or killed them, you would have hurt them first and asked questions later- killing and pain had never been your first port of call. And any firefight that ensued, when possible, you made sure you remained the primary target and civilians would be out of harms way.

Concern for others and worry about the consequences of your actions… Sith and dark side users tend not to feel or allow for these things. He surmised.

Even if what he was revealing to you was the whole picture, there was still the pressing matter of how you’d been in the recent months. “But Eriadu and everything that followed after… I let something in, what was it if not the dark side?”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. You had never experienced loss and betrayal in such quick succession before. What you let in was the anger and anguish you were feeling which you weren’t trained to handle properly. The more you went on, the more those emotions twisted your brain which allowed the darkness to creep in and make it more effortless to act on said emotions. It was easier for you to get what you needed with your emotions being what they were, and you didn’t have to think about who was getting hurt. You got a rather bad case of tunnel vision- you were doing bad things for good reasons, but they were not senseless acts of violence.

“But I have done so many bad things.” You said with self-directed disgust.

Yes, but what you can do now is work towards finding that line again. To finding that control you had in the past. You’ve been on that path since this morning, the self-awareness of what you’ve been doing wasn’t present in the months before today. However, you cannot get back to that place alone anymore, you’ve changed since you left the Order and most of it was for the better, but more attachment means more support. You will not be able to find that balance if you let your family go. He said with a sense of urgency. He needed you to grasp what he was telling you, no matter how unnatural it might feel.

Your pulse quickened. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was? “What are you saying, Master?”

Do you know where your nickname originated?

Confused as you why this was suddenly relevant, you angled your head at him. “I always figured it was because word spread that I made my lightsaber slightly wrong the first time and nearly set it on fire when I first ignited it.”

He chortled. That acted more as a visual aid and a helpful addition to the true origin.

“Then where did it come from?”

He took a deep breath. In the weeks leading up to the time for us to choose a youngling to take under our wing, you caught my eye from the start. It wasn’t just your natural ability with a lightsaber or your quick grasp of the Force, it was how you interacted with the people around you. During the trials, you had a heightened care for how the others were performing and you aided them whenever you could without a second thought. It made you more focused, more effective. You were unique from your peers in that sense and in a way that I’d never seen before, and I knew I had to get to know you more to understand what it was I was picking up on.

“Yeah, I remember. I’d never expected someone to choose me so eagerly, especially since my disciplinary record was far from perfect, even at that age.” Youreminisced with a sigh.

Yes, my fellow Jedi were surprised at my decision, but there was just something within you I had to see for myself. As we got to understand each other and I could officially begin your training, I watched you continue to demonstrate this quality and I could feel it residing in the Force within you. You had this spark, this fire that drove you which would worry even the most disciplined Jedi Masters but with you, it was as much a part of you as the Force was with the rest of us. You were completely at peace with it, and it was something you probably didn’t realise was so rare. You could feel attachment without rejecting the light side of the Force to do so.

So, the name made a bit more sense after all these years, but you still couldn’t see why this was being brought up. “Okay…”

He could tell you were still hesitant to all this. Do you know which General had the most victories with the fewest casualty numbers? Quite a feat to have during war time I might add.

You huffed a heavy breath from your lips. “I have no idea. The war was such a mess and there were so many of us that it was hard to keep up with the results of each battle.”

Fair point. He conceded, but that doesn’t change the answer which is that it was you.

You were taken aback for a moment before you thought back to that period and part of it did make sense. Many of your strategies had seen you take on the most dangerous elements for the sake of the clones in your battalion despite protests from them, your master and pretty much everyone that was involved, but all that mattered to you was that they worked, and you did what you could to protect everyone else.

He knew you enough to recognise that face and he figured whatever it was you were thinking about would relate to his next question. And which General had the most visits to the medical wing? Another impressive award. He added with a hint of disapproval, his mask of control slipping slightly as he frowned at the memories of the countless notifications he’d receive of your admittance to the healing wards of the Jedi Temple.

You cringed as you remembered the fact you had been on a first name basis with all the medical personnel. “I did.”

He nodded. Attachments didn’t bring you down, they lifted you up. Their most negative consequence in that period seemed to be the recklessness they gave you- and my hair greying faster than I would’ve liked. He couldn’t help but say before he continued, but they didn’t unbalance you like they did most of us. And it is on that point my dear Spark, that I failed you.

“Failed me?” In what galaxy could he have possibly failed you when you were the one that had forgone all you stood for and was one slip away from total self-destruction.

When it became clear to me that this was indeed one of your best qualities and strengths, I was thrilled! It presented a challenge for me as you Master that I was looking forward to exploring! Your emotional attachment to people and causes was one I wanted to teach you to manage, not forbid. Your love and care didn’t make you more susceptible to the dark side and its dangers, it drew you closer to the light. That fire that burns within you isn’t a threat, it’s your way to become something greater. But the Council… He trailed off with a regretful sigh. They rejected my proposal that I mentor you in this way. So instead, as you got older, I worked on forcing you to dampen that flame within you but- He stopped for a moment and chuckled wryly. As you may remember, that was when the root of our conflicts started. Foolishly and rather selfishly-and this is an example of how even those of us that followed the Jedi Code to the letter slip from time to time- you passing your trials into Knighthood gave me profound relief. Not only did it mean I could see you become the Jedi you were always meant to be, but it meant my duty as your teacher was over and I could stop doing something I was against. But I shied away too much and stopped teaching you altogether, had I just been less of a ‘pawn of the Council’ as you quite rightly put it, what you’re experiencing now could have been avoided.

You took a moment to let his words sink in, but you wouldn’t let him blame himself for how you’d behaved in recent times. “I still made the choices to hurt those people, Master. You’re not responsible for my actions.”

Perhaps not, but I could’ve done more to make sure you were better equipped to deal with the loss attachment could bring rather than just tell you to stop feeling it altogether. Not that you listened to that anyway. He added with a slight grin.

You allowed yourself half a smile at that before his face turned sombre again.

But I should’ve stood up for you and for that I’m sorry.

You bowed your head in acceptance of his apology. “But what does all of what we’ve talked about have to do with where I am now?”

Everything I’ve shown you, everything you’ve felt in these recent months illustrates someone who had to cope with a tremendous amount of grief when they had been told their whole life to not feel or get attached. Even with your strength and abilities, Spark, that was a big ask, your actions, and the internal conflict you’re going through is an understandable outcome. But even in dealing with that struggle, you were never purely evil or sought to abandon your Jedi teachings. The only time I grew truly worried before now was whatever you did a few weeks ago. Even I couldn’t see you; it was like the very light around you was getting snuffed out. Care to tell me what you did?

You shook your head adamantly.

Very well. As I was saying, all you’ve learned, all you’ve done and means you can heal from this. You are not a lost cause, not a source of darkness and despair. You are good at heart, Spark!

But Master, I-

No, don’t talk yourself out of this. Really think about what I’m telling you. You never abandoned Lyra, you did your best to ensure no civilian would be caught up in your fights, you offered chances to those people before you hurt them. And you were able to sense Hunter and Wrecker arrive. That source of light wouldn’t have shown itself if you were too far down that dark path.

Maybe so but-

He wouldn’t let you second guess yourself anymore. And when you realised that they were indeed on this planet… what did you do first?

You pondered for a moment before you remembered. I helped those sisters.

And when you found one another, you felt alive and hopeful again but because you’d been lost and confused for so long, it got manipulated into that guilt and regret and hurt you are experiencing right now that has left you exposed to this darkness. But before that, you were ready to free yourself of it, whether you truly realised it or not.

“Right…” You said distantly as you were slowly starting to understand what revelation he was guiding you towards.

I can see you working it out, you’re almost there. He encouraged.

Each lesson and aspect of this entire conversation began to click into place. “So, you’re saying that Hunter’s my light? He’s my way out of this?” You uttered quietly.

Isn’t he? He challenged with a supportive smile. And I believe he too made that fact very clear before you sent him away.

“I thought that was what I was supposed to do.” You said in dismay as your mind finally began to listen to what your Master had been telling you and you gained some proper clarity. What had you done?

He looked at you fondly. You were always a bad student when it came to applying and learning the history of our Code, it would fit that the first time you apply the philosophy to your life would be the poorer choice. They never unbalanced you, Spark. At the very least, they’re your way of staying true to the light side and your dark side knew that, hence it’s enthusiastic efforts to turn you.

You hid you head in your hands in embarrassment. You wouldn’t know a right decision if it smacked you in the face.

Oh, and with regards to Cid and Hemlock, I leave that side of things entirely up to you, with your family by your side, I know punishing them however you like won’t ruin you.

“Thanks, Master.” You replied, a smile in your voice.

Not every Jedi gets the chance at a family, Spark, don’t throw it away now.

You glanced up in time to see him fade away but what was around you wasn’t pure darkness anymore; rays of light had broken into the gloomy space, with more fighting to get through.

You opened your eyes sharply and wiped away the damp residue of the tears that had escaped your eyes from your cheeks. He was right, they were the light in your life, and you’d been so stupid to let them go.

Ignoring the lingering pain of your injury, you hastily got to your feet, grabbed a couple bags of credits, and left your room only to be greeted by the disappointed and unhappy face of Lyra. “Hey, I was just-”

“You need to go after them. I’m sorry but I’m drawing the line here. I have not watched you put yourself through hell and risk your life month after month to find your family again only for you to throw it away for some stupid, fucked up, self-sabotaging reason! If you let them go, it will destroy you and as someone else who cares about you, I cannot allow you to do that! They’re your family, you need them, and they need you. And your kid needs you, you can’t just stop! And Hunter… that man is so in love with you it’s sickening, and you are as equally disgustingly in love with him! Whatever is holding you back, the two of you can get through together!”

“Lyra-” But she held up a finger to stop you.

“And you don’t need to worry about me, I will be fine. I’ll get a job and might even find a place that’s not a condemned building to live. You have to go!” She finished with a nervous exhale as she awaited your reaction.

“You’re right.” You agreed.

“Yeah, I am and- wait… what?” Lyra stared at you, shocked.

“I’m going after them.”

“You are?” She double checked.

“Yup.”

“Oh, thank fuck!” Lyra exclaimed before she darted forward and wrapped you up in her arms.

“How long were you coming up with that speech?” You kidded as the two of you hugged.

“For however long you were holed up in your room.” Lyra said with a laugh. “And in case you didn’t listen to that, I had my rifle set to stun and was fully prepared to drag you.”

“Glad we could avoid that.” You replied drily. “Also, ‘sickeningly in love?’” You quoted.

“I meant that as a compliment. Most people can only dream of that.”

You managed a short laugh. “I was an ass to you.” You mumbled shamefully.

“You were, but you were going through a lot.” Lyra said kindly as she removed herself from your hold.

“I was broken and hurting but that wasn’t an excuse to treat you how I did and I’m so sorry. I’m truly grateful for you and your friendship and well, just everything you’ve done for me. I won’t ever forget it. There are some spare bags of credits from those jobs I pulled whilst we were on the move in my bedside drawer, take them. And if there’s anything, and I mean anything you need, I will be there. You only have to get in touch.” You passed her the details of the Marauder’s comm channel.

“Go get ‘em.” Lyra said with a grin.

You gave her one last quick hug before you ran out the door, concern for your injury was pushed far to the back of your mind. You only prayed to the Force that you hadn’t left it too late.

“But I still don’t understand why we’re going without her. What you’ve said makes no sense.” Wrecker questioned as he followed Hunter up and down the Marauder as he got stuff ready for take-off.

“Not my problem, Wrecker. I don’t really want to relive it all again so that it makes sense to you.” Hunter said gruffly as he avoided making eye-contact with his brother and instead focused on keeping himself busy.

“She met someone else and you’re basically doing the whole ‘if you love someone you let them go?’”

“I guess that about sums it up.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Wrecker-”

“I’m sorry, Sarge, but it’s true.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear her.”

“She can’t have meant it! She still has your insignia, if there was someone else, why would she keep that?!”

“Wrecker, drop it.” Hunter said sharply. His brother’s insistence that you were making all this up was only rubbing salt in the wound.

“We’re really just going to leave and forget about her?”

“Yup.”

Wrecker just couldn’t accept that. “If you love someone, you fight for them! Otherwise, what’s the point in what we’re doing right now, why should we bother going after Omega?”

Hunter paused his pacing by the doorway and released an exasperated sigh. “What do you expect me to do?”

Wrecker went to speak but changed his mind as to what he was going to say as he saw the figure in the background. “Actually, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything.” Wrecker said, looking past Hunter’s shoulder.

Hunter turned to follow his gaze and that was when he saw you. Standing in the torrential rain a few feet away from the steps to the Marauder, was you and you were obviously trying to catch your breath.

You started to speak before you caught your breath, so your words were leaving you in a desperate and winded manner. “I was always a bad student.” You raised your voice over the sound of the pouring way. You wiped some drops away from your face, a futile gesture given the intensity of the downpour, but the motion assisted in grounding you for this moment.

Hunter studied you from afar for a second, unsure as to why you’d started this way.

Sensing his uncertainty, you cleared your throat and started again but your words still spilled from your lips in a nervous ramble. “So, it turns out I was always a Jedi who developed attachments and love for people, but apparently that’s a pretty strong and unique quality and applying the Jedi philosophy of ‘letting attachment go’ is a mistake and- and it felt like one. I have such a poor grasp of that concept that even when I went to use it properly, I got it all wrong. I was always a terrible student but for once, for once in my life, I have never been more grateful for it.” Your voice quivered as you said these next words. “I love you! I love you so much it hurts but it’s the kind of hurt that I can’t imagine not having in my life. You, this team, are what keep me balanced and alive, and I was stupid to think letting you go was the solution to everything I have done!”

Hunter could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he listened to what you were saying.

“Finally seeing you again made me feel hope and brought a newfound sense of purpose in my life I didn’t think I’d have again but it got all twisted, I let it get all messed up! I saw you and Wrecker, and I felt that love again and it terrified me at first! I had been acting out and miserable for so long that I didn’t think I deserved to feel this way again or that I should burden you all with my past. I needed to be punished and this was the best way I could think of. I allowed whatever darkness that had been driving me for that period we were apart to convince me that you were better of alone and I had to say whatever I could to get that to happen and for that, I am sorry!” You were in full flow now, all the emotions you’d been supressing came crashing to the surface and for once, it actually felt good. You weren’t existing as a husk of armour anymore.

Hunter couldn’t stand the gap between you anymore and he got his feet in motion. He needed to be near you, he needed to hold you again. You didn’t seem to notice his movement though because you carried on talking.

“There was never anyone else, there could never be anyone else! You’re it for me and this-” You stopped and gestured to the half white skull insignia on your top layer. “When I had this and said that you were a part of me, I truly meant it! Even when we weren’t together, that feeling never faltered. Half my heart beats for myself and this family I was fortunate enough to find. The other half beats for you! You are so deeply engrained in my very being that when I didn’t have you, I could hardly call it living! And then I got you back, and I was flooded with all the emotions I’d been missing since that day we were separated, and they collided with everything I’d done wrong, and I just panicked! I entered self-sabotage mode and thought letting you out of my life was what I had to do! I ruined one of the few remaining good things in my life and was preparing myself to let it be so. Thankfully, it was pointed out to me just how incorrect I was and I’m sorry!”

Hunter kept slowly walking down the steps towards you, the heavy rain instantly cascading down his face and body, but he didn’t care. His sole focus was on you now and the words you were saying. The words that were now healing the open wound he’d had since leaving you in that run down apartment.

“I need to come back. I need to be with you and I’m sorry I got everything so wrong! I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but you have to let me come back!”

“Yes.” He said as he continued to shorten the distance between you both.

“This family is the light of my life. You are the light of my life. So, either, let me come with you or just shoot me because without you, without this squad, I am just a shell of a human being and I’m done feeling like that now! You have to let me come back!”

“Yes.” Hunter said again as he stopped in front of you.

“And I-” You cut yourself off as you finally registered what he was saying and that the space between you both was now only a matter of inches. “Really?”

Hunter nodded and his hand fell to your waist whilst the other cradled the side of your face.

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered softly as your hand rested on his now unarmoured chest and you got utterly absorbed in the feeling of his heart pounding beneath your fingertips- each beat emphasising that this was real, you were actually with him now- and you had no doubt that he could pick up on the way your own pulse was racing.

“It’s okay.” He breathed. “I love you too.”

“I love you.” You croaked out again as you felt the emotions rise in the back of your throat.

“You never stopped being a part of me either.” He murmured, his breathing heavy as his self-restraint was hanging by a thread, but he needed you to be sure. “Can I-” Hunter started to ask as he angled his head and slowly brought his lips closer to yours.

“Yes.” You cut him off. If he didn’t kiss you now, you felt as though you might stop breathing.

Hunter swiftly bridged the remaining distance and the dread he’d been experiencing at the idea of never finding you, at the idea of leaving you behind instantly evaporated in this moment as he finally placed his lips on yours.

You sighed into the sensation of experiencing this again and what began as hesitant and careful, soon became a kiss between two people fuelled by passion who had been apart for far too long and who would never be apart again. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him.

Hunter first made sure he held you securely in his arms but as the kiss progressed and both of you became more immersed in feeling each other once more, his hands started caressing everything he could find. The actions elicited a small but desperate noise from you which he already felt drunk off of and he needed to hear more of you. The rain that had once felt like a harsh cascade of cold, damp water now felt gentle and tepid. He got utterly absorbed in your warmth and he tasted the water on your lips, but the interference didn’t bother him, he just relished the feeling of having you back in his embrace again.

You faintly registered the sun breaking through and the rain lightened in its deluge as you kissed him. If it wasn’t such a perfect moment, you might’ve laughed at the cliched nature of it all, but you were too caught up in this feeling that you ignored it. You threaded your fingers in his hair and lightly tugged, soliciting that raspy and familiar groan from him and your stomach fluttered at the feeling.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your current injury any longer and you felt it strain as Hunter held you tighter to him in response to your actions.

Hunter forced himself to pull away upon feeling your wince, his chest heaving as he worked on getting oxygen back into his lungs, but you interrupted his incoming question by continuing to plant light, affectionate kisses on the rest of his face and he couldn’t help the low but happy laugh that he let out. He lightly grabbed your shoulders and took a slight step back to take you in. The way the sun fell across your face had his breath catching in his throat. Your eyes were bright and looking at him with an adoration that he knew was reflected in his own gaze and the blissful smile on your lips beautifully captured the feelings of this moment. He rested a hand on the side of your face.

You looked into his own shining dark brown eyes and leaned into his touch with a soft and content sigh.

Hunter continued to slowly caress your cheek. “Not to disrupt your healing journey, but I have to ask… where do you stand on Cid and Hemlock?”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re getting fucked up. I have permission on that front.” You said with a decisive nod. “I just have to watch the line with those that aren’t exactly personally involved.”

Not going to question where this permission came from exactly, he was just grateful whatever had happened, had brought you back to him so he just focused on the last part. “I can help with that. And you can look out for me too. We don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

You gave him an agreeing and grateful smile before you planted another tender kiss to his lips and grabbed his hand as the two of you walked back to the ship.

“This you officially back with us now?” Wrecker asked with a grin as you stepped aboard.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me.” You replied with a small smile as you gazed around you. There were times where you had felt uncertain as to whether you would stand amongst these comforting and familiar walls again, and your senses were flooded with the memories you had created and shared here. You swallowed harshly as you saw Omega’s and Tech’s spaces, but you regained your composure as you walked along the hallway. Your hand traced along the bunk you shared with Hunter and a soft sigh left your lips as you were instantly reminded of the slightly more personal moments you had experienced there.

It felt good to be home.

“Ready?” Hunter asked as you finished in the cockpit. He came beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you tight to him as Wrecker put the ship in hyperspace.

You nodded. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Next Oneshot>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch s2 #hunter x reader #hunter x female!jedireader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #angst #fluff #friends to lovers

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spiriteddreams · 1 year

Text

flee(ting)

— a kiss that isn't meant to happen but does so anyway Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: angst, no comfort, reminiscing memories of someone (who isn't dead), possibly ooc jing yuan i just met the man hehe Word Count: ~1.3k A/N: the question was if i should write code or write a jing yuan fic and guess what i chose to do

time is fleeting. it is the steady drag of hands around a circle, the clock paying no mind to the desperation that people cling to in the hope that time will stop for just a moment and allow for just a little more. jing yuan finds that he curses time without knowing it. he stands behind his desk, hands behind his back as he looks at the papers scattered across his desk, his scrawled handwriting detailing reports from the cloud knights, logistics within the xianzhou alliance, and piled in the corner, never to be put away, are the sparsely gathered notes of your whereabouts.

he finds himself reaching for the papers, thumbing through the paper, some recent, others months, now years, old. he finds that he can’t quite remember the last time he saw you, and the memory of your last moments with him have begun to slip from the front of his memory. he hates the feeling. he curses the fact that he cannot hear your laughter echoing in his office any longer, as if your own memory was pulling away, trying to flee from the grasp he has so selfishly held onto for so long. you were there, and then you weren’t. an expedition gone wrong, a ship attacked and no sign of communication, now labeled as a closed case by the xianzhou alliance. but those close to jing yuan know that he’s never truly given up on it. instead he finds his mind drifting back to the day of your departure.

“don’t worry about me,” you stand proud at the docks, decorated outfit a sign of your standing in luofu. both yours and his companions had allow you both some space, privacy amongst the boxes of cargo and decorated architecture. jing yuan has no reason to doubt your abilities, after all, you had risen in the ranks alongside him and he is more than confident in your own skill. that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried. he can fight in wars, lead soldiers into the dark unknown and yet the thought of you leaving for an expedition scares him more than he would like to admit. it’s the nagging feeling that tugs in the back of his mind, warning him to ask you to stay, just one more time.

but jing yuan had always been good at hiding his intentions, presenting a calm and collected front to offer some semblance of comfort to those that look up at him. and he finds that his facade is a bit too easy to put on as he chuckles softly at your words.

“you will make all of us proud,” his voice is uncharacteristically soft, and he’d be damned if his companions heard the way he spoke to you in private. “i look forward to your return.”

you smile softly, offering him a reassuring smile, “i’ll be back before you know it.” he isn’t sure if the smile is meant to reassure him or you. there are unsaid words between the two of you, a delicately drawn line that the neither of you have dared to cross. instead, over the years you’ve resorted to a game of cat and mouse, both of you taking turns to play predator and prey. what went from teenage games has become something more, and yet neither of you had the courage to cross the line. he curses time in this moment, wishing that he could have just a bit longer to sort out this poorly woven tapestry that the two of you have created. he wants to tie the loose ends and seal it off, but you’re already slipping from his grasp.

“jing yuan—“ hands cup your cheeks before you can finish speaking and he pulls you close, lips desperately finding yours as your hands fly up to steady yourself on him. he’s moving all too fast, heart thundering and mind racing as he pulls away, wide eyed and apologies on his lips. but they die when he sees the subtle movement of you chasing after him, hands curling around his clothes as your lips tremble. you stare at him in shock but make no move to pull away.

“come back to me, promise me,” he breathes out. his hands fall to your waist as if to steady you and to keep him grounded. he doesn’t care if anyone else is around any longer. let them see for all he cares, and let them know how much he will miss you while you’re away.

“of course,” you sound breathless, eyes searching his. you smile gently and let your hand come up to gently cup his cheek. your other hand goes to brush away the hair that has fallen into your face. you stay like that for a moment, indulging in one second, two seconds, three seconds— you pull away.

your hands move to the back of your head, fingers tugging at the red ribbon in your hair. it’s silk of the finest kind, and yet you pull it free in one swift movement.

“take this as my promise,” you offer it to him with a smile that almost worries him. “give it back to me when i return.” he smiles in amusement but indulges in letting his fingers drag across your palm as he takes it from your hand.

then time calls back to you both as the ship horn sounds, a signal to prepare to leave. he swallows thickly when neither of you make an effort to go. no doubt your companions will come searching so he takes the step forward again and pulls you close, sealing every unsaid word with a kiss that has you grasping at him to stay close. you two aren’t meant to be doing this in secret. you aren’t meant to be behind cargo boxes like teenagers, holding onto one another as if you were dying in his arms. and yet here you are.

“i should go,” you step away first and jing yuan feels his chest constrict. he can’t read the emotions in your eyes, the way you can’t meet his gaze, the way your fingers tremble, and the way you take deep breaths as if to calm yourself. but you cast aside his worries when you shake your head and throw your arms around him, hugging him tight. his hands find placement at your back and you stay like that until your companions find you locked in embrace.

“general.” a sharp voice cuts him from his daydreams and jing yuan looks at the holographic image of yukong standing by his desk. she looks upset, more so than usual and he puts on an easy expression as he asks what’s wrong.

“we have guests from the astral express, tingyun has informed me they are on their way. we’ll send over more information as they arrive.” he nods as she disappears. jing yuan looks back over at the papers and sighs. his hand comes up to thumb at the ribbon in his hair and he asks if you are still out there and well.

time is fleeting. and jing yuan wishes you had promised to return, not avoided the words as if you knew that you wouldn’t return. he wishes you didn’t give him the ribbon, and he wishes you never kissed him farewell.

— — —

extra: so why is it, that when he receives word of travellers from the astral express arriving in luofu that he catches a glimpse of your face amongst the group that has come. why is it, that when tingyun and yukong greet you with some familiarity, you shy away and apologize that you don’t quite recognize them. and why is it, that it hurts so damn much when you look at him with no remembrance of who he is. the ribbon in his hair feels like it’s slipping.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail angst #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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concreteparasite · 7 months

Note

Hello Concrete! I had a question about your Binary star IF but if you're not answering questions like these please ignore me 🙏

I was replaying the IF and I noticed background information about Ray that I had missed. His background sounds really interesting with steel something (I forgot their name sorry 😭 also he tried to hurt Ray?? excuse me? how dare he) and what happened when he was 16 years old. If possible, and if it isn't too much trouble, could you share some more information about his past?

So, Ray was basically raised in a government facility until he was 16. They had him train to be a hero (i.e., weapon of war) and 'collect' abilities. When the Southern War was carrying on a bit too long, the NAHA decided to deploy heroes, one of those heroes being Ray. This was to test his destructive ability and his loyalty to the NAHA. Ray 'succeeded' in the eyes of the NAHA, and as a reward (and a media distraction/ cover-up), he debuted as a hero when he returned from the war.

Ray was not given the tools or time to able to process his traumas from the war. Instead, he was immediately pushed into adopting the mask of Binary Star.

Ray at this time was also 'adopted' by Steel Sheriff because he was not yet an adult. Steel Sheriff did not want to adopt a kid, but seeing as he recently assaulted a woman in a cocaine induced stupor, his image needed a facelift. So once again, him 'turning a new leaf' as a dad to a lovely adopted superhero boy was GREAT media, and the people ate it up. Unsurprisingly, Steel sherrif did not become a better person nor turn a new leaf. He often ignored Ray, drunkenly bringing strange women and men to their house in the middle of the night, having arguments (verbal and physical) with these men and women. Ray sometimes having to break up the fights himself. Steel Sherrif only spiraled further, sometimes taking his anger out on Ray, who took it. Well, he took it until he didn't anymore.

There was no catalyst as to why Ray stood up for himself. Simply, at that moment, the numbness he felt started to outweigh the terror. Ray fought back, he fought back, and he won.

Steel Sheriff, from that point forward, ignored Ray completely and would hardly return home. Ray moved out of Steel Sheriff's home the minute he turned 18.

Ray to this day can't bring himself to truly hate Steel Sherriff. Steel was the one and only parental figure Ray ever had. Ray, at one point, resolved to confront and kill Steel Sherriff. He flew to Oklahoma, where Steel resides. When Ray finally saw Steel, he saw a pathetic, weak, withered old man. An old man who could hardly move and was dying from kidney failure.

Ray stood and stared for a while, frozen. What once was his object of terror and anger became no more frightening than a shot deer, dragging it's bleeding leg along to find enough shade to die. Steel called out weakly that he knew Ray came to kill him, and to just get it over with. Ray couldn't bring himself to look at the man any longer, he left him there alive and human. It's a complex feeling, one hard to describe or explain. I'm not even sure if it can be.

So that's basically Ray's story with Steel Sherrif. When I was originally planning out the story of BSH, I was mulling over the idea of MC going to visit Steel Sherriff to learn more about Ray. I decided it was better not to.

#binary star hero #bsh #binarystarhero #binary star hero vn #bshvn #binarystarherovn #yanderevn #visual novel #yandere #datingsim

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hello! Happy follower celebration! I love reading your fics and I’m really excited about this event. Could I ask for Captain Rex x f!reader with blue daisy and white tulip? (Yeah, I couldn’t help putting Rex with the white and blue flowers) Angst with a happy ending if possible. Maybe something where after order 66, it took Rex took a long time to contact or see her again.

The Promise

Summary: After the Jedi purge, Rex travels the galaxy, looking to free his brothers from slavery, all the while, his heart remains on Coruscant, with you.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 1452

Prompts: Blue Daisy - long term loyalty, White Tulip - Forgiveness

Warnings: Angsty, the reader is deeply depressed in the second half

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

How long has it been since he’s seen her face? Since he’s heard her voice? Felt her touch?

Too long, Rex knows. Since well before the Order went out.

He closes his eyes and allows his head to thump back against the tree he’s resting against.

Stars, how long has it been since he’s even been to Coruscant. Weeks? Months?

The last time he was on Coruscant he went to her apartment. He stood in front of her door for about fifteen minutes, wanting, more than anything, to key in the door code and sweep her into his arms and kiss her until all of the bad of the galaxy was little more than a nightmare.

But he left.

He’s a damned coward.

That time, he stayed on Coruscant long enough to make sure that she was alright. That she was safe, and then he left and never looked back.

Only that’s not true, is it?

Because he thinks of her every night before he falls asleep, and she’s the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning, and there, hanging around his neck, is the small ring she bought him.

“Here! For you!” She grins at him as she presses the small box into his hands.

“I didn’t bring you anything,” Memory-Rex says even as he starts unwrapping the box.

“Silly! You’re here, aren’t you?” Her laugh is nearly contagious, and Rex is unable to stifle his amused grin at her joy. He opens the box and stares, startled, at the simple silver and blue ring sitting on a neat blue cloth, “A ring? And a cloth?”

“It’s a ribbon, the one I was wearing in my hair the first day we met,” She replies with a roll of her eyes, “And, well, this type of ring has a special significance in my culture.”

“Cyare, I don’t have enough hair to wear a hair ribbon,” Rex teases as he carefully drags the silken material through his fingers, “But I’d love to hear about the ring.”

She lifts her chin, and it might be a trick of the light, but he swears that she’s blushing, “It's a promise ring,” She says.

“And what are you promising me?” Rex asks, his voice dropping slightly.

And she smiles at him, warm and loving, “When the war is over, and if you’re still interested, I promise to marry you.”

Rex pulls himself out of his memories with a jolt. He can’t afford to lose his focus. Not here, not now.

Not when he’s so close to finding and freeing Cody.

He rubs his thumb over the warm ring, his fingers finding and tracing the blue swirls on the ring with the ease of long familiarity.

He hopes that she’s safe. That no one is bothering her on Coruscant. That she’s still going out with her friends on the weekends.

He hopes she still loves him.

Though he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

It doesn’t matter either way, because Rex still loves her, and always will. And as soon as he finds Cody, he’s going to go back to Coruscant and beg her for her forgiveness.

He closes his hand around the ring before he brings it to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to the material, hoping that somehow, his feelings will reach her, even though she’s so far away, and then he puts the ring away, and he slides back into a battle ready state.

He’s so close. So very close.

Just one more brother. And then he can hand everything over to Cody.

“Are you alright?”

You jump as you look up at your supervisor, “I…sorry?”

“You just…you look like you’ve not been sleeping.” The older woman says gently, “And you’ve lost some weight.”

“Well, I probably needed to lose some weight,” You joke weakly, “And, yeah, I think I’m just coming down with something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just…I haven’t been sleeping well lately-”

“How about you take the rest of the day off? And maybe the rest of the week.” She says, “I’m worried about you.”

You sigh, “Yeah, alright.”

“Do you need a lift home? I can take some time to make sure you get home alright.”

“There’s no need. I took a taxi this morning.” You reassure, “Thank you, though.” You wait until she’s wandered off to go and check on someone else, before you slowly push to your feet and gather your stuff.

You must look really bad if you’re being sent home for the rest of the week.

You wish you could feel some way about it. But, honestly, you’ve felt mostly numb since the day the Purge happened. You don’t even have the energy to eat most days, and on days when you’re not working, you mostly just lay in bed and sleep.

Your friends are worried. So are your parents.

Hell, you’re worried. At least, you’re about as worried as you can bring yourself to feel.

Your mom’s been coming by and meal prepping for you, so that you can just throw food in the microwave, so maybe you start eating again. But you just have no desire to eat.

How can you want to exist when Rex is dead?

Slowly you drag yourself to the taxi stand, and order a speeder to take you home. And then you trudge up the three flights of stairs, and numbly key in the door code to your apartment.

The door slides open, and you step into your home, absently slapping the light switch to turn the hallway lights on and you drop your bag on the bench. And then you stare at the new items sitting neatly on the floor and on the shelf you bought well over a year ago.

A shelf unit you bought for Rex’s armor, and haven’t bothered to get rid of.

The shelf is full of armor. Blue and white armor, with little hash marks that you once asked about.

But that’s…impossible.

Rex died.

You hear heavy footsteps come to a stop at the end of the hallway, and you turn. Rex is standing at the end of the hallway. His hair is a little longer, and he has a few more scars than he did the last time you saw him, but it’s him.

It couldn’t be anyone else.

“Cyare,” His voice is like a jolt of electricity to your system, it’s been so, very, long. “I…owe you an apology.” Rex says as he takes a half step towards you, “Well…more than one, really.”

He has your ribbon wrapped around his wrist, and the ring you gave him hangs from a chain with his dog tags.

He’s saying something, but you can’t hear him. There’s a strange ringing in your ears, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground and Rex’s arms are around you.

“Cyare-?”

“Y-you died-” You sob out, when did you start crying?

Rex’s face twists in guilt, and gently cups your face as he caresses your cheeks, “No. No, cyare. I didn’t. I should have contacted you, but I didn’t know if it was safe-” Carefully he helps you to your feet, and then he falters, “Cyare, you lost weight.”

You try to choke down a sob, “Haven’t felt like eating,”

“Oh, my cyare-” He whispers, and his lips are warm against your forehead, “I’m so, so sorry.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry-”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” He brings you into the living room and settles you on the couch, before he pulls away to look at you, and then he sighs softly and gently cups your cheek, “Will you eat if I make you something?”

You curl your hands around his wrists, “Don’t leave me. Please.” You whisper.

“Never again.” Rex swears, “I’m never leaving you again, cyare. I promise.”

You look up at him with tear filled eyes.

Rex crouches in front of you and he gently cups your face, “Can you ever forgive me for leaving you, cyare?”

You sniffle and nod once, “Was never angry,” You whisper, “Just sad. So sad.”

He raises up slightly and uses a gentle hand to tilt your head back so he can rain feather light kisses all over your face, “I love you.” Rex whispers between every kiss, “So much. I’m not leaving you again.”

“Never?”

“Never ever.” Rex promises, “So please,” he lightly caresses your cheek, “Smile for me, angel?”

You blink at him, and then, slowly, a small smile lifts your lips. “I love you.” You whisper up to him.

And Rex just smiles at you as he presses his forehead against yours. “Don’t worry, cyare. I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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impala-dreamer · 4 months

Text

Tourniquet - Chapter Two

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Their Scars

It was strange being there, back in the Bunker in Lebanon. She’d been to visit a few times over the years, spending a night or two, but it had been weeks this time. It was nearly a month since Sam had called her and she’d dumped her duffle bag onto a bed and settled in. She didn’t expect to stay forever; she wasn’t moving in. She was just there to help, to give Sam support while he led an army of other-wordly hunters and searched for Dean.

Dean.

It felt odd being there without him. So strange to be around Sam knowing that Dean was nowhere close. In thirty years, Y/N didn’t know if she’d ever spent this much time alone with Sam. It wasn’t awkward, he was like a little brother she never got to know, but it was different.

She didn’t know him as well, couldn’t read the messages left in the breaths between words, didn’t know how to decipher his silence. Luckily, he left more emotion on his face than his older brother ever did.

He was hurting badly. Stressed and exhausted, Y/N didn’t know if he’d really slept since Dean’s disappearance. Every now and then, she would leave her post by the phones and drag Sam to the kitchen, shove some food down his gullet and then order him to bed. He would pick at the food, barely able to eat enough to sustain himself, and spend his nights awake with his foot tapping and his eyes darting across a computer screen.

She couldn’t sleep much either, not that she usually did. Still, the thought of that psychotic archangel running around in Dean’s body made her skin crawl and falling asleep was near impossible. Most nights around two, she would wrap herself in a blanket and make her way down the hall to Sam’s bed. They would lay there in the deepest quiet, each peeling back the layers of their quadrant of the ceiling until their eyes hung heavy and their thoughts stilled.

An hour of sleep, maybe two before Sam couldn’t take it anymore and popped up. Some days, Y/N would join him, others she laid there wishing things were easier, praying that life would ease up on her boys eventually.

It never did.

Prayers meant nothing when Heaven was, more often than not, literally out to get you and God was indifferent to your pain. Even still, whenever she drove past a church, blew out a candle, peeked a shooting star, she would ask the universe to give them a break, if not a little peace.

The War Room was crowded and overly warm. The air buzzed with voices and the annoying crinkle of papers being shuffled about. The place that had once been a Fortress of Solitude, inhabited by two, four souls at the most, was now filled to the rafters with bodies hustling from map to map, exchanging notes and making plans.

It wasn’t so bad, really. It gave her something to do other than worry about Dean and figure out how to get Sam to care enough to take care of himself.

The day was terribly strange. Sam had forced her to stay back while he went with Mary and Bobby to check out a lead, and she had been on edge ever since. She was cranky, anxious, and on the verge of snapping at anyone who looked at her too long. Knowing they would be back soon, she did her best to stay calm but it was difficult. She sat in her corner by the Bat Phone and managed her temper.

Y/N slurped at her luke-warm coffee and stared at Joe while he rambled on about a possible lamia hunt in Baltimore.

The scruffy but handsome hunter had slipped through the Rift with the rest of the group, and while he had fought for years with them against the angels, he had skipped a course or two about hunting the supernatural. If she remembered correctly, he had been a bank teller before the apocalypse, so it wasn’t his fault he was clueless, but it really would do him some good to read a lore book or ten.

“Um…” She swallowed the sugar-less brew and shook her head. “Yeah, it’s highly unlikely. Lamia generally hang out in the Mediterranean. Which, if I’m honest, sounds really fucking good right now.”

Joe’s nose and brows scrunched up and he scanned his phone again, scrolling up through the news article. “Yeah, but it says-”

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was hot, sure, but not hot enough to excuse him not listening to her. Her jaw clenched and she took a deep breath.

“Joe…”

“It really looks like a lamia. I don’t see why-”

“It’s not!”

Joe jolted back a step and Y/N held out her hand in apology.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking tired. I just… It’s probably not a lamia, since they haven’t appeared in the U.S. since all that weirdness in 2010. But, if you really wanna investigate, go ahead. I just don’t think running off to Maryland right now is very helpful.”

The man nodded and turned away, phone clutched in a slightly trembling hand.

She knew she scared some of the new folks, but it wasn’t her fault. She had experience and little patience dealing with other people.

“Joe-” She called to him before he got too far away and he looked back over his shoulder. “If it is… Rosemary, salt, and fire.”

He smiled and gave a little wave. “Thanks.”

“You should be nicer to them. They’re trying their best.”

Y/N’s eyes turned from Joe to the angel that had appeared at her side.

Castiel looked just as worn out as she felt.

“I’m nice to them,” she defended.

Blue eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

She sighed. “No. But…”

His eyebrows raised and she snapped her lips shut. She was still getting used to hanging out with someone who could read her mind if he chose to, and it was highly unsettling. She wondered if he could feel how nervous she was, how terrified that things were going wrong as they sat there waiting, doing nothing.

“Sorry.” She slumped back against the wall and ran her fingers over the chipped coffee cup. “I’m just tired and worried that they’re not back yet.”

“We all are,” he told her.

“And I’m really unhappy.”

“That too,” he nodded.

“When do we get to be happy, Castiel? When will all of this be over?” She looked up at him and pushed at a tear on her cheek. Exhaustion led her to cry more easily than usual and she hated it. She took a deep breath and her hand fell automatically to the chain around her neck. The lug nut was cool and she closed her fist around it. “When will he be safe?”

Castiel laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, but soon.”

“How don’t you know?” She asked, blinking up at him. “Aren’t angels omniscient or some shit?”

He laughed gently. “Unfortunately, no.”

She smiled softly. “You should get on that. Might come in handy someday.”

Squeezing her shoulder, he smiled. “It’ll be ok.”

She barely believed him, but it was better than voicing the obvious. They hadn’t heard anything in hours. Dean might still be gone, or dead or worse. Michael was creating all kinds of chaos and trying to ruin the world. It seemed as if nothing would ever be better again.

Something in the air suddenly shifted. The buzz dimmed and bodies blurred in her vision. The metal pendant in her fist warmed.

Castiel tensed and withdrew his hand.

Y/N gasped.

“Dean.”

He was there, standing in the doorway with Sam close behind. He looked thin and drained, as if he’d just come back from war. Green eyes scanned the rooms, confused by the crowd of people in his space, and he stood there, seemingly unable to make the decision to move.

Y/N couldn’t contain the fury of emotions churning inside. Her soul ached, her veins tugged at her limbs, pulling everything towards the center of her being. She held her breath and stood up, ignoring the shaking in her hands and the tears trickling down her face.

Jack got to him first and Dean hugged him kindly, but his gaze fell upon Y/N.

Her stomach flipped and she gave him the saddest smile of her life.

Y/N hung back as Castiel greeted him, relief and joy beaming from his sapphire eyes. They chatted a bit, put life back in place for the moment, and then Dean excused himself. He turned away but not before giving Y/N a secret look. He didn’t have to speak, didn’t need to call her over, she knew what he needed.

She followed him down the hall and found him waiting around a corner.

“Hey, Y/N/N.”

She hesitated, boots squeaking on the tiled floor as she came to a halt. Her hand was still locked around her necklace and the nut burned against her palm. She held her breath, determined not to cry in front of him, but it was too late. She let the air out and with it came every moment of worry, every ounce of pain she’d felt in the last few months. She fell into his open arms and they stood there alone in the shadows of the hallway, silently holding each other together.

The Bunker had a bathtub unlike any she’d ever seen before, and while it took forever to fill up, it was worth the wait.

Y/N locked the door and fiddled with the tap. As the tub filled, she added a good amount of eucalyptus oil to the water and the fragrance filled the room.

Dean tore the tuxedo vest from his back, balled it up in angry fists and tossed it aside.

“This fucking thing,” he mumbled, ripping at the tiny buttons on his shirt.

Without a word, she came up behind him and dragged her hands slowly up his back. He turned in her arms and she pushed his hands away. He stared down at her while she undid each button, carefully peeled the shirt from his arms.

There was hurt in his eyes but she didn’t dwell on it, didn’t push him to speak. She opened his belt and Dean grabbed her hands, tugging them both up to his lips. He kissed the knuckles on each side and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against her warm skin for a moment.

Every bit of her ached for him.

“It’s OK,” she whispered. “You’re home.”

The water was hot and the steam was heavenly.

Y/N settled against the back of the tub and Dean lay against her, his head on her shoulder, his long body between her legs. She rubbed at his back, ran her nails gently over his scalp. She washed his body, soothed his soul.

The scar on his arm was worrisome, but it could wait. She covered it with her hand and held him tight.

Dean let himself relax, his muscles finally resting after being dragged to hell and back. He breathed deeply and melted into her, wanting to disappear inside her flesh, wishing she could swallow him whole and keep him locked inside forever.

“I lied,” he said out of nowhere.

Y/N ran her hands down his arms, dipping under the water and back up. “Oh?”

“Told Sam I don’t remember anything. I do.”

She held her breath and Dean sat up, pulling away from her touch.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said gently. “I get it.”

Water splashed as he cupped his hands and brought them to his face. He exhaled heavily and dragged a hand through his hair.

“It was… bad, Y/N/N. It was really fucking bad.”

He scooted away and she kicked her knees up to her chest, hiding as she hugged herself. High tide slipped over the edge of the tub as Dean turned and sat back opposite her. He faced her, but his eyes went elsewhere, anywhere but to her anguished face.

“I was stuck inside. It was dark and freezing and I was… drowning, suffocating. Every fucking minute went on forever and I clawed at him, screamed, tried to climb out, to push him out.” He caught his breath and finally met her gaze. “I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough, I didn’t fight hard enough. I… I just couldn’t do it.”

Fifteen years ago, Y/N had been possessed by a demon, some low-level pissant that took her for a joyride around Montgomery, Alabama. While it was terrible to be stuck inside, watching as her hands ripped a young boy apart, she couldn’t imagine the torture he went through. Demons were a bad time, but angels were nuclear reactors. She was surprised he was alive and lucid after his ordeal.

“It’s not your fault, Dean. None of this was.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I did all of this. I let him in. I said yes. Fuck, ten years ago I told him to fuck off and now- it wasn’t even a question. I just let him in.”

Y/N sat forward, leaning in to get him to look at her. “You didn’t just let him in. You did what you had to do, what was best. And you know what? You fucking killed Lucifer. The Devil Himself is gone because of you. You did that. You had to.”

“Did I?”

“You did.” Under the water, she grabbed his hand and held it tight. “Dean, I know you’ve fucked up a lot. Shit, we all have. I fuck up constantly. Can’t even keep track of it anymore. But I know, hell, I’ve always known, that your fuck ups are never for nothing.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

She shook her head. “You know what I mean. You fuck up for the right reasons. You fuck up because you know it’s what needs to be done and in the end… it works out. Somehow, it always works out.”

“How can you be so sure? What if this time it all crumbles?”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“How?”

“Castiel loaned me some of his omniscience.”

Dean rolled his eyes, bit back a smile, licked his lips. “Cas doesn’t know shit.”

Y/N shrugged. “Neither do you, so…”

He laughed.

She smiled.

He would be alright.

The water moved again as Dean flipped onto his knees. Y/N watched the wave break over the ledge and onto the floor.

“Sam’s gonna kill us if we flood the place,” she warned, cringing at the puddles on the floor.

Dean slid between her legs and swam up close, his thick lashes nearly tangling with hers, his breath like an August breeze over her skin.

“Let him try.”

Tourniquet Tags:

@prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303 @cookiechipdough

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean/you #angst #series #tourniquet

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laheysdork · 2 years

Text

strangers - stiles stilinski

summary: you decided that he’s a stranger to you a long time ago, but what if tragedy strikes and the only person that could help you is him?

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, fights, angst, slight fluff, vomit?, a little violence

a/n: so sorry i have been mia for months, i moved out and am finally living (as in not being stuck in my room all the time) i have this enemies-to-lovers fic siting for the longest time in my draft so hope yall like it! the italic bolded ones are flashbacks in case it gets pretty confusing. and i would like to apologize beforehand 🤠

masterlist

Strangers—they’re not always the people we don’t know. Some of them can be by choice, someone we chose to forget.

Sighing at the thought of another dreadful day at school, you drag your feet towards your first class. Your muscle memory kicking in, you pick the seat at the back corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as you wish you can hide under a huge invisible cloak. After dumping your bag onto the floor next to the table, your body lazily sinks into the chair. Shuffling inside the pocket of your hoodie, you take out your phone and click it on, looking at the time.

7.50 A.M.

For once, you are early. Class starts at 8, so you have an extra 10 minutes to waste. As you begin to think about ways to kill the time, you hear two familiar voices growing louder as they enter the class.

You know those voices by heart. The voices that would always cheer you up when you were sad, the voices that continuously came up with jokes every day, but also the same voices that have shattered the only living soul you have left. How could one bring so much joy but also pain?

“Come on, Stiles. Star Wars? Again? Don’t you have any other movies to watch for our weekly movie nights?” you grumbled irritatedly.

“Last week, Scott picked some lame-ass rom-com and forced us to sit through it so this week it’s MY turn for revenge.” He emphasized the ‘my’ and crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of his genius evil plan.

“Fine, but next week I’m making you watch Spiderman.”

His curled lips dropped flat instantly. “Spiderman? Y/N, you know I am a DC man. Why would you do this to me?” he whined in disbelief which earned a maniacal laugh from you.

“Well, as you said before Stilinski, that is MY turn for revenge.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts, 10 minutes have long passed as the coach abruptly enters the classroom.

“This is the right class, right? Yeah, I think so.” He mumbles to himself as he places his stuff onto the teacher’s desk and clears his throat.

“Since I’m busy today, you will be doing a pair project.”

And the class goes wild.

“Hey, shut up. I’m not done yet.” Coach yells which gradually silences the class.

“Before all of you got too happy, I will be picking the pairs. Some of you depended on other students too much and that is not good.” He shakes his head, trailing off the subject.

“So, uhm, I’m just going to write the pairs on the board and the instructions. While I’m at it, please for the love of God shut your mouth.”

You are surprised. As a generally unlucky person, today doesn’t seem so bad. You won’t have to sit through coach’s lectures for 2 periods, which you consider as a total win.

However, your triumph does not last long as the words written messily on the board haunt you.

Pair 3: Y/F/N Y/L/N, Stiles Stilinski

Fuck-

“Okay, so all you have to do is collect some general information regarding the market structures and make a mind map. Simple. Now, huddle up with your buddies and get to work.”

Even after everyone starts grouping up with their partners, you are still slumped in the corner, not having any sort of will or energy left to interact with Stiles Stilinski.

Thankfully (or not), Stiles decides to make the first move, his silhouette towering your sitting figure. As you strictly look at your phone, a loud screech filled your ears, Stiles noisily dragging a vacant chair next to your table.

“Y/N,” he called in a tone you can’t quite comprehend.

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

In fact, you actually can. Hell, you even know what he’s about to say. But you do not brace yourself for this. You can barely look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Hey, movie night at 7?” You nudged on Stiles' arms, startling him, busy going through a bunch of papers on his desk.

“Uhh, no. I’m busy tonight.” He glanced to you for a second then proceeds to occupy himself.

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

Missing your best friends, you were determined to get the band back together. Stiles and Scott had been exceptionally busy for the past few days and you were not quite sure why.

At first, you thought maybe it had something to do with the new girl, Allison. Scott seemed to be all over her. But then there was that creepy peculiar guy, Derek, who was borderline stalking them. They started to ditch you alone, running off to some secret mission, and you were tired of it. Why were they keeping it from you? Did they not trust you enough?

“Also busy,” he muttered, his focus still fully on the pile of paper. Your mouth gaped to come up with something that would get them to spend time with you but was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. In a flash, Stiles stood up, aimlessly gathering his papers, and zoomed out of the class, leaving your deadpanned state unattended.

From the widely-opened door, you could see Stiles rushing over to Scott. He told Scott something inaudible unless you got some sort of super-hearing, but from the look on Scott’s face, it must’ve been urgently distressing. Both of them bolted out of the school together without you, once again.

“I’ll do the monopoly and monopolistic competition and you do perfect competition and oligopoly. I’ll draw the mind map after school,” you state clearly and monotonously, wanting to quickly get this over with.

“Y/N, I-“

“Is it unclear?” you snap, rather cold.

“No, but-“

“Okay, then. You better start reading.” You heavily lift your book out of the bag and drop it on top of your table.

“What the hell just happened? Scott? Stiles?”

Your quizzical eyes darted waveringly between the two jittery boys, confused and infuriated.

Earlier, the boys had invited you, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson to come over and study. For a while there, you were hopeful. You thought that this small gathering could be a step closer to things going back to how it was, but displeasingly, you were absolutely mistaken.

“I don’t know, it’s-“

“What kind of lie are you coming up with now huh, Stiles? I know you know something!” you confronted.

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice? That guy Derek? Then both of you suddenly went M.I.A for days? And don’t get me started with the ‘Sorry, Deaton needs me at the clinic’ or ‘Sorry, my dad called me, gotta go’. We’ve been friends since we were 10 for fucks sake!”

Gladly the three of you were left alone because you were furiously shouting at this point. Allison offered to drive Lydia home the moment she sensed the unnerving tension between the three of you.

“And now, even after whatever that thing is just almost killed us, you still think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

You shot the two boys death glares through your teary eyes which they actively try to avoid. They looked miserably guilty, something you currently want them to feel.

“You know what, I’m done. Don’t bother chasing after me to explain. I can just ask Allison.” And with that bitter statement, you left the two stunned boys standing frozen on the front porch.

Both of you are quietly reading through the materials and highlighting the key points. You silently thank Stiles for not trying to initiate another awkward conversation, which probably is caused by your previous intimidation.

Luckily, time seems to fly as the bell rings, indicating the end of the class. Not wanting to spend another second in this hellhole, you immediately left the class.

Following that incident, Stiles and Scott tried to reach you for days. Your phone would constantly light up once every few hours with either Scott’s or Stiles’ name lighting up the lockscreen.

After a week or so, the calls eventually came to a halt. You were relieved the ongoing calls that you have convinced yourself were bothering you stopped. But deep down all those denials, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they gave up on you so effortlessly.

At the same time, you couldn’t blame them either. You were pretty ruthless.

Things never went back to normal. You avoided them at all cost, stop sitting at their table, vowing to never speak to them ever again.

You knew that keeping grudges would eventually hurt you more than it should but you were headstrong.

They did not trust you. They lied to you. They have made their bed and now you’re just simply letting them sleep on it.

However, this didn’t stop you from being attentive towards them. From time to time, you tried to keep tabs on them by checking in with Allison. But that was until she passed away.

The news left you completely devastated and heartbroken. Even though you were not on good terms with Scott and Stiles, you were still close with Allison.

She was your best friend. She patiently supported you through the heartache of losing your two best friends, she taught you how to stand strong independently, she gave you hope on the brighter days that had yet to come, but most importantly, she trusted you when Scott and Stiles didn’t.

You were also aware of the whole void situation, which pained you more than you thought it would. The thought of the vibrant, eccentric Stiles going through unspeakable agony and remorse wrecked you.

During Allison’s funeral, you decided that letting your distant facade down just for a day to console the pack won’t kill you.

Approaching them after the reception, a surprised look was painted on each of their faces, especially Scott and Stiles. You gave your condolences to everyone and hugged Stiles and Scott, something you haven’t done in ages. Their bodies stiffen from your unexpected action, but soon they melt into the hug and cling onto you tightly, finally accepting that you were really embracing them.

After pulling apart, you excused Scott to give you and Stiles a moment alone.

“Stiles, I know you’re thinking that this is your fault but listen to me, it is not. You were not in control. You were not you. You did not do this.”

Upon hearing comforting words from his long-lost friend, he let out an excruciating sob. Instinctively, you pulled him into your embrace once again as he squeezed you tighter.

You might not be able to forgive him yet but at least you could be there with him through this disastrous nightmare.

The whole day, you try to steer clear of Stiles or the pack. You know he’s trying to get a hold of you, probably wanting to discuss the unfinished project; but we don’t need to add more to the plate, don’t we?

Once school ended, you quickly rush home. From a distance, you can hear Stiles call out your name. But being the excellent evader you claim to be, you ignore them.

Just as you think the day can’t get any worse, the doorbell in your house chimes, indicating a guest present on your doorsteps. You sigh, knowing who is standing behind that door and this time you can’t dodge it.

So much for being an excellent evader.

“What?” you ask, getting straight to the point.

“We haven’t finished our project. I want to help you do the mind map.” He stares at you innocently, fumbling with his hands.

After all these years and he still got those puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.” You try closing the door but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/N. I don’t want you ratting me out to Coach for forced labor, so please just let me in and we’ll work on it together,” he whines, hand still holding the door open.

Even after everything, you still can’t bring yourself to decline him. You have always had a soft spot for Stiles, which you are planning to terminate because it is starting to be troublesome.

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

A favorable grin is plastered on his face as he steps into your house.

Things seemed to change after Allison’s death. You noticed fresh faces joining the pack while familiar ones went away.

But out of the several new members, one had caught your eye the most. Her name’s Malia if you’re not mistaken; a snarky brunette, who’s built like a model too by the way.

From what you could tell from the persistent PDA, she was dating Stiles. Yeah, you weren’t exactly in a position to have a say on it, but you were getting real sketchy vibes from her, or so you thought.

“Stiles, you’re still coming over right?” you heard Malia speak to your ex-best friend as you opened your locker across from them.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll teach you maths too since you’re so bad at it.” You tried not to overhear their conversation but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. You’re the best!” she cried out as she treaded away from Stiles, a pang striking your chest.

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

It seemed like you’re still unable to completely erase your suppressed attraction towards him, even when clearly he had.

To minimize any sort of unnecessary interaction, you try to fully put your focus on the project—which works. For the past 15 minutes, the two of you are settled in your living room in silence, minding your own business.

At least until Stiles decides to be clumsy and drop his plastic cup, water spilling all over the floor. You roll your eyes and grab a cloth from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he curses under his breath as you are drying up the floor.

“It’s fine.”

No actually, it’s not. This situation right here is not fine. You’ve had the shittiest day at school and to make it even worse, Stiles decides to show up uninvitedly at your house which is supposedly your only stress-free zone.

“I’ll help you clean it up.” He squats down, trying to get the cloth from your grip.

“No, you don’t have to.” You don’t want him to cause any more inconvenience, even though you know very well he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

“What, Stiles? You want to help? Then please for the love of God, leave me alone!” You stand up and snap at him, a bit too loudly. You feel bad for being too hard on him when he’s only trying to help, but you’re unable to extinguish your growing anger.

He straightens up, his once warm face turn into an enraged frown.

“Is this still about what happened back then? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve said sorry, Scott has, thousands of times. But you still don’t want to forgive us. So tell me now Y/N, what should I do, huh?”

The sudden increase in his volume catch you by surprise. He has always been so radiant and carefree, you have never seen him this mad. But despite that, the rage inside of you still does not subdue.

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. You think that I get to choose not to forgive you, that I’m the evil one and maybe I am at some point. But don’t you dare pull the victim card here.”

Your sight becomes blurry as your eyes start to sting from all the overwhelming emotions but you can care less.

“You lied to me. You left me alone, confused, scared, even after knowing very well how my mom lied to me about my father abandoning me. You know how much I relied on you and Scott, but you still broke my trust. You hurt me. And you think a bunch of “sorry”s will immediately fix that? It’s not that simple, Stiles.”

You’re not screaming as loud as you did before. The tone of your voice softens as a new emotion takes control over your body—pain.

Frustrated, Stiles rummages through his hair while letting out a scoff.

“But it’s not just a bunch of “sorry”s isn’t it? We kept on calling you after that day. We tried approaching you at school. Fuck, I even tried to be nice to you earlier today. But guess what I got in return? Another silent treatment. Why can’t you just fucking move on already? You’re being too overdramatic. No wonder your mom lied to you.”

Bang. His words hit you like a bullet, piercing right through your heart.

Your once agape mouth closes shut, your furrowed eyebrows straighten. Stiles has crossed the line this time.

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“I SAID GET OUT, STILES,” you yell at the top of your lungs, frightening him. With horror painted all over his face, he immediately picks up his bag and exits your house, too frightened to say anything else.

As the door shuts, more tears start to flow down your cheeks. You are exhausted. Today’s fiascos have drained every ounce of energy you have left, leaving you like a corpse.

After getting your lifeless, sickly self to shower, you directly plop into your bed, curling yourself in the soft quilt of your blanket. Needing an escape from this dreadful reality, you flutter your eyes shut, instantaneously falling asleep.

You wake up to your accustomed alarm, growling at the blaring sound you set. Finally having enough will to get out of bed, you head to your bathroom.

Turning on the lights, your reflection in the mirror stares back at you.

Gosh, you look dead.

Your skin is as pale as a sheet, your eyes are puffy with prominent dark circles forming under them, your hair is messy and icky. You feel disgustingly terrible.

Dabbing a whole lot of concealer on your skin, you get ready for school; deciding to put whatever catastrophe that had happened yesterday behind you.

Fortunately, you only have one class with Stiles for the day. The day goes by pretty fast and to your delight, pretty decent too, probably because you spend a few periods in the infirmary.

But again, the universe seems to find so much pleasure in inflicting pain on you.

Midway through the class, a sharp sting strikes your head. Interrupting Mr. Yukimura, you excuse yourself to leave the class.

As you reach the empty halls, you feel an eerie sensation creeping all over your body. Alarmed for some reason you don’t know, you scan the halls hastily. You can see nothing, but you do hear something. A bug-like, rattling noise gradually fills your ears, followed by a raspy, unearthly wheeze.

What the fuck is happening?

You’re shivering, cold sweats covering your body. Not being able to stand the unknown terrors, you abruptly sprint to the vacant locker room.

Bad idea. Should’ve picked a more crowded room.

Securing yourself in a room alone definitely does not make you feel any safer. The rattling has stopped but the ominous feeling only grew more prominent.

You are about to escape before sudden nausea hits you. Before you knew it, your knees drop to the floor, your throat retching, vomiting a slimy, ink-like substance.

Now you are horrified.

The door to the locker room flies open, showing two familiar figures. Their eyes find your unusually glowing whiskey-colored ones.

“Fuck, she’s one of them,” Stiles spoke, eyes fixated only on you.

Scott rushes over to you as Stiles stands still, trying to let the sight in front of him sink in. While bracing your fragile body to a steady sitting position, Scott checks in on you with a few “are you okay?”s to which you shake your head.

“What is happening to me, Scott?” you question, panic in your eyes.

After hearing a very complicated and detailed explanation about chimeras and the dread doctors, you are left speechless in front of all the members of the pack who came running right away at the bad news a while ago when you were still seated frozen in a shocked haze.

“Okay so, let me summarize everything,” you mutter so softly to the point it sounds like a whisper while standing up, Stiles hands instinctively finding your body to support you.

“I am a chimera, which is a scientifically-made supernatural creature. The dread doctors, the psychos who are behind this, are going to take me away,” you enunciate to the pack—more like to yourself—to prove your understanding of the matter in which Scott nods in return.

He then tries to come up with a plan to save you from being taken, but you’re not really listening.

Even though you look composed, you are actually on edge, occasionally convincing yourself that everything is under control.

From the very little you heard, basically, they plan on keeping you here in the locker room for the rest of the day—something to do with the telluric currents.

After the plan is finalized, everyone departs for their appointed roles, leaving only one person behind to watch over you.

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

“I have a spare shirt in my locker, do you maybe want to change into them?” Stiles pointed to your now stained white T-shirt.

You are about to refuse the boy’s offer but looking at the matching black splatter on your shirt and the floor makes you feel queasy, so you comply.

“Okay, we’ll go to the boy’s locker room and leave this mess here.”

“We should clean it-“

“No, you’re not in the state to do any work. I’ll ask someone to clean it up later.” He grabs your arm and leads you out the door to the boy’s locker room, which is no different than the girl’s, pretty disappointing.

Stiles rummages his locker for a second before handing his grey shirt to you.

You stare at him, waiting for him to give you some privacy to change your clothes. But it seems like he isn’t getting the memo.

“What?” he blurts so blatantly as you sigh in return.

Oh God has he always been this slow?

“Are you planning on cheating on Malia? Because I’m about to change here and unless you’re blind, you’re going to have to see me pretty much naked.” His jaw drops at your snarky remark. His face growing warmer as it’s tinted with a crimson color.

“O-Oh yeah, of course. I’m no longer dating Malia though but uhh that’s not important. I’ll turn around- Or do you want me to leave the room? I can do that.” He fidgeted, totally taken aback and flustered.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. Just turn around.”

Both of you are astonished by your statement. But it’s the truth. Alone, you were petrified. At least being with Stiles makes you feel a little more secure.

Just a day ago you were shouting for him to leave, but now you practically begged him to stay. How ironic.

After you have changed into his cozy oversized shirt which for the record smells like his aftershave that you liked, you keep away your dirty shirt, sit on the bench beside him, and thank him.

Once again, silence befalls the both of you. The air between you two today has somehow shifted from yesterday. It’s still thick and tensed, but not full of rage and resentment.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he mutters after a while with his head low.

“Stiles-“

“No, I have to say it. You were right. I was so stupid. I should have never blamed you for not being able to trust me. I’ve hurt you, Y/N, and I deserve this.” His regretful honey eyes are fixed deeply into yours.

Despite the guilt building up inside your body, you do not reply to him straight away. You need time to process this.

Are you still mad at him? Yes. But do you feel bad for being mean towards him? Also yes.

As you are contemplating, the door to the locker room swings open, revealing Scott and the others.

Liam is clutching a large navy duffel bag in his hand, its contents still a mystery to you. Lydia and a man who you aren’t familiar with are carrying a bunch of radio transmitters. Malia is holding a steel bat, which later on is passed over to Stiles.

Once they are all inside, they start to get busy. Lydia, Stiles, and the guy—Parrish, according to what you heard the pack calls him—go around the room, placing the equipment all over it. Malia and Liam are near the door, pushing the shelves to cover all the exits except the main one. And Scott is hovering over the duffel bag which was placed earlier on the bench across you.

He slowly zips the bag open, inspecting it. Being your inquisitive self, you lift your head up to get a better view. But before you get a sight of anything, Scott zips it back close and takes it with him.

After everyone’s done with their designated tasks, they all gather to form a small circle, yourself included.

“Okay, Lydia and Parrish, you two stay in the car outside. Malia and Liam, stand by in the halls. Me, Stiles, and Y/N will stay here. Got it?” Scott instructs clearly to which everybody nods and proceed to their assigned areas.

All of them seem so prepared as if they are properly equipped for battle, except you.

Minutes have passed as there is no sign of the dread doctors. You are sitting quietly on the bench, fumbling with your fingers as Stiles and Scott pace around the room.

Your eyes darted from the two mobile boys to the duffel bag resting on the bench in front of you. Now, you’re curious.

When Scott isn’t looking, you swiftly slide to the opposite bench and zip the bag open, uncovering a bunch of weighty chains.

“What are these for?” Your voice echoes through the noiseless room, earning glances from them both.

“I brought them, just in case.” Scott moves closer to where you are.

“In case of what?” You don’t quite understand what he is implying.

“In case we have a chance to catch one of them,” Scott answered composedly.

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

“If we can’t make the school a fortress, maybe we can make it a trap.” Scott’s attempt to explain to the two of you only receives a scoff of disbelief from Stiles.

“And you’re making her the bait?” he questions sharply.

“That’s not what I said-“

“Yeah, right.” Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott glances over to you, an apologetic look plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to feel about this situation. Yes, you are hurt that Scott possibly considered you as bait. But rationally, he does have a point. At the same time, you are also impressed at Stiles' initiative to immediately defend you.

“Wait a minute, I hear something. I’ll go out and check it. You two stay here.” Before any of you can protest, Scott fleets out of the room.

And then there’s two. Awkward silence once again engulfs the two of you. But this time, you’re the one who breaks it.

“Thank you, for defending me,” you utter gently as he sat beside you.

“Of course, Y/N. Always. I will always protect you.” He grasps your hands into his, giving you a reassuring smile, relieved that you finally drop your cold exterior.

The long-awaited moment of truce you two are sharing is sadly interrupted by the familiar rattling noise that unexpectedly appeared, causing you to stand up, followed by Stiles.

“Stiles, I hear them,” you quiver, fear rushing through your body.

“Me too. Hey, Scott?” He forms a half-circle using his palms, cupping them around this mouth. He continues to call out his best friend’s name a few more times before he retreats.

“Where the fuck is he?” Exasperated and worried, he restlessly gazes around the room.

“They’re coming, Stiles.” Feeling hopeless and discouraged, you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his agitated body. You have accepted your fate. They’re taking you away.

“No, I’m not letting them take you.” His hands caress the sides of your arms, tears forming in his eyes.

“They will.” Your palms cup his face, thumb wiping away the warm teardrops streaming down his cheeks.

Mirroring your actions, he also cups your cheeks, staring at the little details of your face, memorizing them like it’s the last time he’ll get to be close to you.

Then he tilts his head and leans closer, shutting the distance between your lips. Fluttering your previously widened eyes shut, your lips passionately brushed along his plump ones as your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, heart pounding loudly, warmth radiating throughout your body.

Just as he initiated it, he pulls away, honey eyes never leaving yours.

“I will find you, okay?” You nod as shadows appear behind Stiles’ figure.

The dread doctors.

He also sensed their presence as he immediately snatches his bat from the bench. He commands you to stay behind him which you obey.

Cowering behind Stiles’ figure, they have the two of you cornered and helpless. He tightens his grip and aggressively swings his bat at one of them but to no avail. Inching closer, they shove him away, grabbing a hold of both your arms.

You’re hysterically crying out for help, vigorously attempting to break free. Forcefully holding you still, they jab a sharp needle to the side of your neck as your limp body dropped to the ground. Your vision turns dark, the last thing you see is Stiles’ unconscious body lying in front of you.

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