#grief and anger are the things that I felt most at the start so be gentle with yourself.

[moon-rivr]

so real

part three of congratulations series masterlist

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)

synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief

author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3

word count: 6.3k

Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures.  Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!

He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.

"Miguel."

"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.

His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.

"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.

Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.

He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.

He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.

Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.

"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.

"Because I needed you."

"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."

"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."

"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.

"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"

"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."

Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."

"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.

"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."

You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.

"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."

Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.

Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.

This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.

He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.

Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.

Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.

Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.

Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.

"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.

After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.

Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.

"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.

He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.

Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.

He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.

Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.

Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.

"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,

"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."

"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."

Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.

"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.

Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.

And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.

Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.

"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.

He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.

The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.

The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.

"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.

The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.

The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.

He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.

“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”

You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.

“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”

Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.

He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'

He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.

Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.

What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.

After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.

Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.

Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.

All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.

Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.

Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.

Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.

"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.

Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.

He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.

"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.

THUMP

He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.

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#moon-rivr #Spotify #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara au #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara angst #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara self insert #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #angst

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello ! This is pukey Saeyoung anon.

I’m comin off anon bc honestly that shit is too much work. Pretty sure being sick this long has fried any last sense of inhibition or shame in my brain and I think everyone deserves to know how much I love Saeyoung smh. The extent to which that is my Mans. I will publicly gush if I so please. 😤😤

Plus! I’m pleased to report that I haven’t actually thrown up in about two weeks! So like. Hashtag recovery life I guess. 💀

But that’s what I came here to update you about. :’D

I feel like I kinda left you with a cliffhanger there with the whole bone cancer thing. (If it makes you feel any better, the hospital did too 👁👄👁)

November was very much,,, a terrible horrible no good very bad type of month. I spent nearly two weeks waiting for them to get back to me about my dumb bone marrow autopsy only for them to cancel my appointment last minute. And in the meantime I was just getting sicker and sicker… I ended up in and out of the hospital again a couple times,, but by the third time I was scared to go back bc the second time I went they didn’t even admit me overnight. They basically just charged me $700 to take a four hour nap. And cha boy doesn’t have that kinda money. 😭

But it got to the point that I really physically couldn’t take it anymore… I have never been in so much pain and discomfort in my entire life. Which unfortunately with the life I’ve had,, that’s a high ass bar lmao.

And it was just CONSTANT… I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t look at any screens. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stand. I was literally too weak to even pull a blanket up over myself. I literally was spending every night sobbing/shivering/barfing myself to sleep. It was baaaaaaad.

Luckily my roommate at this point had probably started to get annoyed by hearing me crying from pain all night and was like “dude I’m taking you to the hospital again”

And my third hospital visit !! They FINALLY gave me an answer as to wtf is going on!

Good news is…? Not bone cancer. I don’t have to enter my Deadpool era Quite yet.

Bad news…? Apparently I’ve got fuckin Lupus 🤡

Which is super cute and fun because,, you know. Incurable lifelong chronic illness. I’m literally gonna be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life. :)

But like. It’s a perfectly livable disease. As long as it’s, you know. Actually being taken care of and treated. Which I now have enough info to actually do haha.

(Hit the self-loathing so hard that even my own fuckin immune system was like, oh shit we gotta take this bitch DOWN 💀)

I’m soooo glad to be home and back from the hospital… but it’s been very strange too. I’m still really sick and I can’t really do much on my own and,,, my brain physically doesn’t know how to process being like,, taken care of. Honestly it kinda sets off alarm bells in my brain 😳 but I’ve had to accept pretty damn quickly that,, I don’t really have a choice rn. I’m so used to just being on my own pushing through all my pain and just. Waiting till it goes away on its own. But if I do that in this case… the pain will just get worse and my body will quite literally shut down on me and I will literally die. Sooooo like,,,, 🤡 I guess maybe I can stand to be taken care of for at least a little while.

Doc says with all the damage that’s been done to my organs and stuff this past year, they caught it early enough that the damage is reversible. But I need to undergo a really strict recovery treatment,, and they estimate it’ll be at least 18 months before I’m able to get back to my ~normal healthy baseline~. Which is insane… like am I really gonna be out here living like a sickly hermit for a damn year and a half?? I’m gonna keep feeling better, I know. And I’ll slowly be able to do more again. But I can’t go back to my job. It was causing me waaay too much physical and mental strain. :( so that’s gonna be fun to figure out.

They also put me on literally 12 new medications when I left the hospital to help control my symptoms. Each of which I have to take 1-3 times a day. So that’s super exciting. Love a big bowl of pills for breakfast every morning.

It was torture at first because I hate swallowing pills. But it’s been about a week and I’m honestly getting used to it already. And better yet? Even after only a week… they’re noticeably helping my symptoms… and I’m actually starting to be able to do things again… I *almost* feel like, 60% of a normal human person again,,, maybe even 65%! I’m slowly starting to regain my appetite finally… and I can do little things again… like play the new Pokémon game, or watch anime, or draw, or call a friend on the phone. Which… god what a relief 😭 words cannot describe how good it feels to be able to do those things again… frankly,, it was traumatic having to spend the last few months watching my body physically deteriorate in real time… so now that I’m starting to feel like myself again, if only a little. I’m like. Hey?? I actually love myself so much???? I think I’m a pretty cool fun interesting person. Thank GOD I’m making a comeback 😭😭

Saeyoung of course has been a great source of comfort for me throughout all of this… he always is one of my biggest sources of comfort in life… literally even just imagining him being in the same room as me is enough to put me more at ease…

When things were at their worst a big part of how I dealt with shit was vividly daydreaming about making up silly stories with Saeyoung to distract me. This is something I’ve done for years when I’m too upset or stressed to sleep,,, it’s been a reliable source of comfort for me for a hot minute. But it’s never gotten to this extent haha.

We have a whole ass story going,, I’m actually starting to get pretty attached to the story and the characters… which is stupid AF because it’s literally just. Me and Saeyoung Choi as fantasy self-inserts wherein he’s a court jester and I’m a knight and we’re going on a quest to ~find a cure for my mysterious illness~

But a part of me is like 🥺🤔 what if I actually wrote the story tho? Lmaoooo

Amongst other coping mechanisms and distractions,,, I’ve also been falling HARD into my online shopping addiction. But also, idk, can you blame me…? I’m a material gowrl at heart and I haven’t been able to go shopping in person for months 😔😔 I need little treats to get me through the day.

Mostly I’ve been spending an UNGODLY amount of money on plushies. Like… idk if I could count them and I don’t even wanna THINK about the prices fhdhdjd-

Mostly Pokémon and Sanrio characters. But a few other random critters as well.

And tbh?? I don’t regret a single purchase. They’ve literally all helped me feel more comfortable and joyful these past couple months, which I’ve really needed. So, even if my bed is starting to look RIDICULOUS from sheer volume of plushies…. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m living my best life

A few days ago I got a giant charmander plushy… and like. Ordinarily I’m not even the biggest fan of charmander (shut UP ABOUT CHARIZARD GAMEFREAK. IM OVER IT. GEN 1 IS POPULAR WE GET IT)

But I swear to god this young man is changing my life. It may be the softest squishiest most huggable plush I’ve ever encountered. I’ve been carrying him almost everywhere,,, starting to feel like the “ahh yes. Me, my partner, and their life sized mareep plushy” meme for real 💀💀

((How do you think Saeyoung would feel about me turning our bed into a literal mountain of plushies? Or having to compete for attention with my charmander? Hehe. ))

THERES ONLY ONE MORE THING I WANTED TO SAY…

If you’re actually taking the time to read all of this,,, holy shit thank you. And thank you for providing lonely bitches like me this outlet c’: to be able to talk… and share comfort… and express our deep love for these characters without fear of judgement. It’s really just such a lovely blog and I can never thank you enough.

But the last topic I wanted to touch on!!!

Ugh,,, I read your answer to the ask about Saeyoung with an MC into pastel goth fashion and…

That made me so happy 😭😭❤️❤️

I love fashion,,, so much. Truly one of my greatest joys in life is getting into a really cool fun outfit and strutting around Knowing that I’m cool as fuck and I look like a sexy badass 😤😤 it’s simply the most powerful feeling.

Love when I’m wearing an outfit I know looks fire and I can’t stop smirking haha.

And I just,,, love being flamboyant and silly and having fun with it. I’m 100% the type of person to walk into a store and go “this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. The colors and patterns are such a mess they’re practically nauseating. I NEED IT.”

I have a collection of tacky button up shirts that could probably blind a man lmao. And JACKETS?? Don’t get me started on jackets. Boots,,, cargo pants,,, earrings,,, big colorful sunglasses. Ugh. <3

Since I’ve been so sick I haven’t been putting much effort into my appearance. My outfits were so joyless for a while… and then, well. I’ve spent the last month and a half wearing exclusively Pajamas and Hospital Gowns 😭

Considering that my main fashion inspirations ordinarily fall somewhere between Elton John, Lil nas x, and Jojo’s bizarre adventure…

Quite the glow down haha

I don’t think I realized fully how much I missed that until I read your ask…

You inspired me to go looking for some fun new clothes online. And now I’m feeling so excited and impatient for them to get here because I can’t remember the last time I got to put together a fun outfit… I actually wanna like,, get up and get dressed for the first time in so long c’: if only to waltz around my apartment a little bit and take a few selfies.

I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to my FULL level of glamour,, my inflammation is still pretty bad so my face and body are kinda weird and swollen and lumpy right now 🥴 and again,,, standing and walking are still very much a challenge. Idk if I could wear heels right now haha I’m wobbly enough on my feet already.

But I can’t wait to get back into it…

Like you were saying in that ask too… another part of why I love fashion defs has to do with my gender expression… and I LOVE LOVE LOVE when people bring that up with Saeyoung 😭 it always makes me grin and fills me with so much adoration to think about Sae getting to have fun and experience that euphoria with clothing and fashion as well… and especially the thought of us getting to do it together….? c’:

Literally a concept that is SO important and special to me 😭❤️❤️

Idk what kinda wonky matching outfits we’d be putting together but I know that we would look so fuckin cool and hot 😤😤 and best of all we could have so much fun. Which… tbh, there’s nothing more I could ask for in life.

Plus of course,,, there’s always the added fun of self indulgently getting to imagine Saeyoung admiring and complimenting me on my fashion :’D and like,,, thinking I’m cool or whatever 😭

Anyways! Those are all the things I wanted to say.

If you’re still reading this,, //what’s wrong with you bahaha I’m such a rambly mess

But like. Thank you. And deadass if this is too long to read or respond to feel free to leave it in your inbox or just delete it.

Honestly it was just really nice to be able to type out all these thoughts just to sorta. Get it out and decompress, ya know…? c’:

I hope you have an absolutely beautiful day.

While I am happy to hear that you have a better understanding of what's going on in your life, I'm sorry you're going through this transitional time when you discover that you have chronic illness. That has to be the most difficult time for a lot of people. You have to make a lot of adjustments and make changes that you may not be happy with to make sure that you're taken care of. I empathize and understand this because I deal with multiple chronic illnesses. If you ever need a safe space to vent about it, this is always a safe spot. Whether you want it to be posted or not, you can always scream into the inbox.

I hope you don't beat yourself up over the new limitations and changes that are coming into your life. It'll be hard for a little while to get used to everything. But it'll be okay. I can't promise that it'll be easy in the long run. This journey is a lot different for everybody. I think what helps when you feel lonely and isolated in that regard, is to find comfort in the things that make you happy and if that is this video game, then I'm glad that you have it. It's been there for me through all of my experiences so I'm also grateful for it.

I know what it feels like to be lonely and afraid. Having my blog like this... it’s a place where I’m able to help everyone’s dream. It’s simple, it’s small, but I know even the smallest response of “Yes, your favorite character would do this for you today!” means the world to someone on their worst day. I hope that you’re able to find some spoons to dress up and feel good very soon. It’s hard to find a good day sometimes, but you’ll have soon, I’ll cross my fingers for you.

Imagine that, I mean, imagine Saeyoung gushing over you because you found the energy to get up and show off your new outfit. There’s dazzling sparkles in his eyes as he looks at you. His hands are pressed to his mouth, and he looks like he’s going to keel over in delight. He’s absolutely enamored and in love with the sight of you. “You’re so handsome! I can’t take it! I’m in the presence of the best lover! I think I’m the luckiest boyfriend in the world!” Cue him pretending to faint before you ask him if he’s getting dressed, too.

That’s when he springs back up: “Wait, wait, wait, I’ve got the perfect dress that’ll match this. I’ll even let you pick my hair style for the day!”

#longpost #long post #queue #ask #pukey saeyoung anon #mod kait #clownishpossum #also don't worry I've got plenty of daydreams about saeran. #we're coping. this is fine and dandy. #so you and saeyoung? valid. #grief and anger are the things that I felt most at the start so be gentle with yourself. #tw chronic illness

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter I : Apollo

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else. 

Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored. 

Enter: The creation of myth.

Content Warnings: Dominant Din Djarin; Unprotected sex; Creampie;Size difference; Size kink; Rough sex; Overstimulation; Spanking; Brat taming; Touched-Starved Din Djarin

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Hello, friends, and welcome to the new story! 

A few notes: We are starting prior to season one’s canon, and I am doing what I want and making it so that Din already knows about the Force and the Jedi. I make free use of canon and the timeline in whatever way I see fit to suit my own horny purposes, sorry. If things aren’t canon or don’t make sense pls don’t tell me. I am naught but a fragile flower who wilts under harsh criticism. 

Please note as well, that I do describe the FMC as having two different colored eyes although I do not specify what color they are. 

Also, I will be updating the tags as we go along so as to avoid spoiling too much too early on. 

Thank you and enjoy!

Word count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

PART I

CHAPTER I : APOLLO

Is it a god inside you, girl?

Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

The first time you meet, he’s sitting in the corner of the shithole cantina on the shithole backwater planet you currently find yourself on: Nevarro. Sometimes you were wont to flight – in search of a nowhere place in the middle of a nowhere part of the galaxy to lose yourself. And the barren landscape of the volcanic planet, a broken star of red, the only interruption in the black field of ash, no wind, no life, no sound; it provides the perfect environment for getting lost when necessary.

And then one day, unexpectedly: him. He is a shining, metallic, mountain of a man. 

Mandalorian. 

Whenever you’d felt too suffocated, strangulated, in need of a moment, a breather, a reprieve from the reality of what you were… what you are becoming – this place is enough of nothing to be just the perfect something. When you’re not busy flitting from planet to planet, sector to sector, looking for something to fill the gnawing void within you. Before landing here, you’d been on Sorgan for a time. It’d been… nice… peaceful, or whatever approximation of peace you could partially recognize after an existence such as that which you were currently trying to run from. A temperate climate, kind people, but after a while, you’d happened upon a community one day, and they’d been so… so together, so familiar. Happy, they’d be so openly, unabashedly, uncomplicatedly happy. It was simple, and it had made a terrible lance of poisonous jealousy roil through you. Jealousy and anger and bitterness and a loneliness so painful that you’d had to flee, as far and as fast as you could from the reflection of all your envy and shame. And so you’d come here instead, to Nevarro. A more barren, emptier sort of place – better suited to your ilk. 

“I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” you croon up at him, smoothly sliding into the booth he’s currently occupying in the furthest dark corner of the cantina, only the gleaming silver crescent of the curve of his helmet visible from the other side of the room. 

This is the first of many lies you will tell him. 

No response. Only the dark, yawning pit of his visor faced slightly away from you. 

The stark curve of his helmet gleams brightly. Beautiful. He looks strong, thickly built. His shoulders, so broad. The armor adorning his torso is beaten and worn, and yet, there’s something so… what’s the word? Lived, perhaps, about the facade of him. This is a creature who has lived – who has seen things, who has battled and survived and most assuredly killed. 

Maybe a little like you, but good. For this you know with certainty about Mandalorians – a flash of a pained scream, beskar crumbling beneath the force of you, for not even what could be considered the most endurable alloy in the galaxy could withstand something of your nature, blood, so much blood, and the sound of such defeat as you do the unforgivable– they are good and honorable and worthy – great warriors. But perhaps, on the surface, with a face of shared, painful history, of survival, maybe there are some things between the two of you which could be called similar. 

“I’ve always been curious, though… Always wanted to meet one.” You sidle closer to him. There’s something about him, the weapons, the breadth of his shoulders, the silence, which starts a chilled little shiver of fear that flashes and coalesces into something hotter and wetter deep in your belly, the closer you get to him. And the feeling of it – of apprehension, of standing in the presence of something other, something that could perhaps best, even you, it is exciting and arousing and different to everything else you’ve ever encountered.

Still no response. 

“You’re hard to come by now. Not many of you left, right?” A curdle of shame and regret hidden beneath your wry tone, “A girl’s got to get extra lucky to find something as interesting as you nowadays… something as pretty too.”

He does react to this, finally, and a little shock of victory fizzes in your belly at the fact that he’s at last deigned to give you even a semblance of his attention, for you are desperately in want of it, as he turns his helmet the fraction of an inch in your direction at the sound of you calling him pretty. So, it seems even a Mandalorian is victim to vanity. 

“Oh, so you can hear under there,” you quip, “I was beginning to worry…”

And then his voice, deep, and of potentially the lowest and smoothest baritone you’ve ever heard, comes through the modulator, “I can hear.” Clipped, and even maybe, a little cold. 

“And he speaks too!” He flexes open the fingers of the gloved hand that lays on the table. You’re annoying him. “How exciting.” You cross one knee over the other, elbow propped up on the edge of the table and chin cupped in your palm, looking up at him. He’s tall, even sitting. Your joint presses into the hard muscle of his thigh, and you feel him scoot just the tiniest bit away from you. You have the uncontrollable urge to snap your teeth at him. You must surely be at least half his size, especially with all that beskar covering him. Don’t act so scared, big, bad Mandalorian. I’m just a little girl. You don’t know what I actually am.

Helmet now turned entirely in your direction to keep an eye on you, he says, “What are you?” Or… whoops, maybe he does know. 

You ignore his question. “You know, I met a whore once – who claimed she’d fucked a Mandalorian. Is it true you just pull out the important bits and get on with it? Seems a bit cold, no? Even for a paid fuck?” He jolts a little at your vulgarity, and you flash him a wide grin, wriggle one delicate eyebrow provocatively. “No game?”

He turns his body to face you more fully now too, his thigh pressing into yours once again as he takes you on directly. Perhaps a warrior's instinct that can sense he is not in the presence of something to be trifled with. The helmet cocks slowly to the side. Silent, silent. Not one for many words this Mandalorian, although, it seems you’ve provoked him now. 

“What are you?” he says again, voice measured. 

“How do you mean?” You let your voice end on an upward lilt, and he shifts minutely, as if agitated at your uncooperativeness. 

“You’re not– I don’t–” The helmet tilts the other way as if inspecting you, and you cut him off before he can finish. 

“Oh, so many things.” You roll your hand on your wrist in a fluttering wave, tapping your fingers quickly against your thumb one by one, flexing a muscle you’ve not allowed yourself to use in a while and repressing it, all at once. You’re watching him so closely you see the small pivot of his neck to glance at your hand, and then back to your face. “Who can keep track anymore? So many strange creatures roaming the galaxy after the fall of everything. The Empire. We’re all just madly careening around as whatever the moment requires of us, aren’t we?” He’s quiet, still inspecting you, and you feel his gaze like a brand on the skin of your face. Like fire, like something that you remember from a nightmare, and that you think should be painful, but now only feels exciting. “So, what are you, Mandalorian? What does the present moment require of you?”

He goes silent again, and you watch the subtle downward tilt of his helmet as he inspects the length of you. You wish you could see if he was ogling the tight swell of your breasts beneath your dark clothes. You tilt your head side to side, smile big at him again, and you’re pretty sure you hear an agitated little huff of annoyance slip through the modulator.

And then: “I’m not interested.” He turns back to face away from you, both fists now firmly planted on the table’s surface, clenched into tight balls of clear annoyance. “Go away.”

Oh, he’s funny too. You throw your head back in a quick laugh, “Did I offer something?”

Silence.

“Dirty mind, Mandalorian.” You drag the vowels out to irk him just that extra bit more. “What? Just because I made one little mention of a whore means that, I too, must be peddling my wares?” And you knock your knee into his beskar clad thigh again. He scoots a smidge away from you, and you follow him, laughing again. Oh, you really should stop provoking him, but it’s just turning out to be too much fun. And you’d been watching him for weeks now, every time he came in here for a new bounty puck. You’d so wanted to talk to him, had snooped around to find out he’s in the Guild, and now you finally are. It was just too much for a girl who had too much time on her hands, and too many ugly thoughts she’d rather forget, roaming around in her mind, to look away from a moment of distraction such as this. 

“Stop,” and it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. 

You snicker. “Stop what?” in a sing-songed lilt that you know must be grinding his gears. Poor, shiny Mandalorian. 

“Whatever it is you’re doing – speaking to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What could I possibly want from you?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Who’s the one peddling their wares now, Mandalorian, hmm?” He says nothing now, and you know you’re pushing him, you can see the vibration of his restrained agitation in the lines of his thick arms, but there is something needling and annoying and obnoxious inside of you that wants his attention, that wants to incite him. And so you make a mistake that perhaps, is not a mistake at all, but a call for something more, for a reaction from him because as you slowly start to lift a single finger up towards the curve of his helmet, you say, “Tell me, what do you have to offer?” At the same time, he pivots and snaps up to grasp the thin of your wrist in a bone crushing grip as you’re about to make contact with the smooth surface of the gleaming beskar helmet. And you know you were asking for it, that you should never have even insinuated that you were going to touch a Mandalorian’s helmet, and that this is only your own doing, but as his harsh strength makes contact with you, so unexpectedly, he’s so fast, that you’re caught almost entirely unaware, you react on pure instinct. A reflex so embedded into the deepest and most poisoned recesses of your mind, that despite the fact that you know this is the last sort of reaction you should exhibit, that above all else you needed to keep this part of yourself hidden and secreted away from the rest of the galaxy, you can’t help yourself when, at the moment that his crushing strength slams your hand back down onto the table, twisting painfully so that you’re crying out in shock and hurt, you weren’t going to do anything to him, you just wanted to touch a little, you can’t help it when you let go of the reins on your power, and you feel the Force snap out of you like a band of rubber, to crack out and wrap around his arm and rip his painful grip away from you. Another inviolable tendril shoves against his chest plate to push him back. His movements, too abrupt, too unexpectedly aggressive to give you a moment to temper your reaction, to give you a chance to remind yourself that this is not one of your painful, dark memories, that you’re free, you’re free, you’re free, and suppress your reaction to not reveal yourself.

The two of you pause for one long moment, him by force, and you in shock and fear and slight nausea as you pant breathlessly. It’s been a long time since you’ve lashed out like this, since you’ve used the Force in front of another person, and the sensation of being perceived, of being seen for what you truly are is disequilibrating and terrifying and sickeningly liberating all at the same time. 

One thick arm of his is held up and pinned against the back of the booth the two of you are ensconced in, hidden from prying eyes, at least. His legs start to shift restlessly, seeking purchase or trying to kick out, and you pin him there too, lest he try and hurt you again. 

“I do not like to be handled so,” you admonish him, clicking your tongue. You can feel the seething fury rolling off him. “I wasn’t going to do anything to you. I am not going to do anything to you.” He’s got a blaster strapped into a holster at his thigh, and you’re sure his vambrace is hiding several other nasty tricks up his sleeve. You eye them both. “If I let you go, are you going to try and hurt me again?”

“No,” he growls out.

“No,” you mock back, but release him anyway, letting an impenetrable wall settle between the two of you. He immediately goes for his blaster, and you block his reach which has him furiously growling and lurching towards you, only to be met by the invisible Force impeding his attack. He spits a frustrated volley of curses in a language you can’t understand, but that you’re fairly certain is Mando’a. 

“Ah, ah, no blaster,” you tut, and he settles, going suddenly, shockingly still, watching you watch him. “You really are quite poorly mannered and surly.” There’s a part of you that is still slightly unbalanced, heart beating painfully against the cage of your ribs, but you’re trying to hide it behind a wry smile and light tone. Echoes of pain and hurt and cruel and unyielding hands molding you into a thing that was just as cruel and unyielding. You cannot tolerate being handled like that anymore, and you feel contrite that you’d provoked him into doing so. Sometimes it is still difficult for you to remember how it is you’re supposed to behave around other people. 

And then something you weren’t expecting, for he says, “You’re a Force weilder. You’re a Jedi.”

You let out a barking laugh. “What do you know of the Force?”

“Are you?” He presses.

“Yes, but no, definitely not that, no.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing. Or… whatever the opposite of a Jedi is, I suppose.”

“The opposite?” He shakes his head, “I don’t–”

“Hmm…” you cut him off, turning to make sure the two of you still haven’t been noticed. “Not anymore. I don’t use it anymore.”

“Oh, no?”

“Well… you’ve gone and ruined that now, haven’t you?”

“You started–”

“All I was trying to do,” you interrupt, “Was make nice. I’d always wanted to meet a Mandalorian,” Lie, “Haven’t you ever heard of a little flirting? And I fear, now, you’ve painted them all in a very poor light,” Lie, “Look at how rude you’ve gone and been, when all I wanted was to be friends,” Another lie, “A shame…” you heave a big sigh, “You really are very beautiful.” Truth. That fist clenches again, and you cock your head to the side, getting one last good look at him. You feel suddenly sad, you don't want to go. You’ve enjoyed this brief moment you’ve gotten to talk to him. Even if you’d gone and pissed him off and ruined it all now. 

“It was nice meeting you, shiny. Even if you were an abominable beast about it.” You give him a nod of your head, and a quick two fingered salute before you’re sliding out of the enshroudment of the booth and slipping out the back of the cantina, into the dark alleyway, leaving him behind. 

The last glimpse you catch of him out of the corner of your eye before the door shuts behind you, is the sight of him scrambling out of the booth and starting towards the door to follow after you. 

A glutton for punishment, then, so it seems. 

You flit through the dark, dirty alleys, scampering from shadow to shadow. The city streets around you, gone quiet now as the sun over Nevarro sets quickly, and you can feel him hunting after you. He’s strong, and you can almost feel the heavy weight of his life force even at a distance, almost as if the goodness and honesty of his character is a presence of its own, sentient in a way. And he’s angry, and you can feel that too, charging after you, provoked, even if he does it on entirely silent and measured feet. You can sense that ravenous curiosity and frustration at being bested and evaded pressing up against you, chasing after you. As if there were some dark red thread connecting the two of you from spine to rib bone, leading him to you, pulling him along your trail. You tiptoe the lines of the shadows silently, making your way through the winding city streets, feeling him getting closer and closer, trying to confuse him, even as he gains on you anyway. 

And then he’s there. 

You feel a massive hand, strong and sure, clamp around the back of your neck, but his touch is measured this time – he’d heeded your warning. His other hand wraps around the bend of your elbow, twisting your arm back behind you, and then he’s kicking open the nearest door, what seems to be some sort of storage alcove, the space dark and humid and mildewed, and pushing you inside. He shoves you away from him once you pass together into the darkness, and you catch yourself on the edge of what feels like some sort of table or workbench.

You laugh breathlessly. Overwhelmed by the thrill of the chase, of the feel of his hands on you, the surrounding darkness, the sound of his own panting breath through the modulator of his helmet. You hope he’s just as overwhelmed, disequilibrated, as you are now. 

“Oh, you again?” you laugh, turning to face him, bracing yourself back against the table. All you can see of him is the silver crescent of the curve of his helmet, the outline of his wide shoulders in the dim light of the moon seeping in through the cracks of space around the door. He is a steel giant.“Did you forget something? Need me to hand your ass to you again, Mandalorian?”

“You’re a fucking brat. Anyone ever tell you that before?”

You gasp mockingly, “Me? Never.”

“Why is it that everything you say sounds vaguely like a taunt? Like you’re trying to provoke me.”

And, oh, he sounds just so unbearably serious and put out by you, that you pout, forced to match his serious tone with one of your own. You force the smile to leave your voice, “Maybe because I am,” and your voice goes quieter, softer, because again, truth. There is something about him that incites provocation, you want him rattled, come undone. “Maybe I want to see what happens when a man made of metal loses control.”

“I can’t – I don’t–” His voice, even through the modulator, is its own flavor of foreplay. “I don’t know…” he says again, whispers it, his tone seeping through the helmet, entirely uncertain, or at war with himself. 

He takes one menacing step forward, made even all the more intimidating by the vast difference in your heights, the sheer breadth of him, the darkness wrapping around him so that all he’s made into are slivers of gleaming silver flame here and there. You feel the whisper of one leather covered finger skim lightly over the outside of your right forearm, another soft touch to the left side of your waist, and you shiver all over. 

“Not a virgin? Your Creed lets you fuck?”

“No.”

“No, what? Use your words.”

Silence. Stubborn, silent, tin can.

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Whores?”

A grunt. 

“Aha! Gotcha.” You start to toe your foot forward, bending your knee to make contact with him when you find his leg, tilting slightly away from the table so that you can slide your thigh between his legs. “Is that what you want me to be for you?”

“No.” Fucking monosyllabic–

“Then what do you want from me? Why did you follow me?”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t lie.”

“I want to fuck you.” Your cunt goes soaked and tight at his words, because yes, yes yes, this is what you were leading him to. Finally, he’s caught on, and then he’s planting a strong, broad hand to the center of your chest and pushing you back into the table, and pressing the hard, unyielding length of himself against you. He’s hard and swollen beneath his pants, you can feel the thick heft of him against your belly as he presses into you, and you bring your palms up to slide against the unprotected sides of his strong waist, sending him into a full body shudder as you touch him, helmet falling forward on his neck as he hunches over you, hands planted on the table behind. You can hear his labored, panting breath huffing through the modulator as you run your hands along the planes of him. He’s huge, pure muscle beneath unrelenting beskar, and if you weren’t the creature that you are, you’d feel slightly frightened at the unbelievable strength he’s made up of. He is a thrumming effigy of restrained power beneath your hands, different to that which makes you up, and you feel the strength of him once again, humming through the Force. His light burns so bright, almost blindingly. He’s strong. 

You slide one of your hands up his chest plate, tucking your fingers into the top-most edge to bring yourself up and closer to him as he curves over you, bending you back into an arch over the table’s edge. Your other hand reaches for his wrist braced against the table, wrapping around it, so thick your fingers don’t meet, to tuck your fingertips into the space where his sleeve meets his glove, and at the feel of your bare skin on his, just there, just there, he growls, deep and savage in his chest at the same time that you let out a breathy, warbled moan. His other hand shoots up to grasp at the small of your back and press you into him, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. He’s burning hot, sweltering, and he slides his palm lower, tilting your pelvis into his as you hitch one of your knees up the outside of his thigh to his hip, and then your cunt is rocking against the thick length of his cock, and another breathless, pained groan from the both of you as you make contact there, pushing and pulling against each other. You want to taste his skin, his tongue, you want to kiss him, to feel him licking into your mouth. You pull yourself in closer by the hand tucked into his chestplate to press your face into the warm space between his helmet’s edge and the folds of his cowl. He smells so good, like leather and sweat and metal. Something earthy and musky, something that proves to you that despite the beskar, there is only a man of flesh and blood and want beneath. 

His palm slides to grip the lush of your ass, rolling you onto his length harder, pressing deeper as if he could fuck you through your clothes. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you, little brat?” he pants, ending on a stuttered groan as you hook your calf around his waist and press your foot into the small of his back to grind particularly sharply onto him, pressing your clit into the edge of his utility belt, “Please, just– just–” you gasp, head falling back on your neck. And then he’s spinning you abruptly and pressing between your shoulder blades so that you're bent entirely over the table, cheek smushed against the hard surface. That wide palm slides down the slope of your spine, squeezes your asscheek harshly so that you’re moaning out in lust or pain, you can’t tell.

“Was that a yes? Who can’t use their words now?”

“I liked it better when you weren’t talking,” you grouch, but then his fingers have somehow snuck their way up beneath your tunic and under the edge of your trousers, and he’s ripping everything down to leave you bare and unprotected from the sudden onslaught of that huge expanse of leather clad palm cracking down painfully on the soft skin of your ass so that you’re scrambling to find the opposite end of the table to pull yourself away from him. A pathetic little screech claws its way out of you, and he wraps the length of your hair around his fist to pull your head back and up, turning you into his own little bow string, head resting back on the hard pauldron over his shoulder. 

“Where do you think you’re going? I caught you, you’re mine now.”

“Fuck off–” You try, but he clamps his fingers around your jaw, squeezing the fine bones of your face to cut you off, his other hand in your hair gives a sharp tug that makes the tips of your breasts go hot and tight and your cunt clench around nothing. You can feel yourself dripping down the insides of your naked thighs. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders, shoving the thick of his fingers inside to press down on your tongue. You try and moan around him, protest or something, but you can’t help but run your tongue around the digits, tasting the smokiness of blaster residue, the tang of whatever he must use to oil his gloves. “Finally, some silence. I like you better like this,” he taunts you with an imitation of your previous words. He bends his head forward, “Get them wet,” he murmurs, voice soft and sultry through the modulator, and the moan you give him now is all desperation as you let saliva pool heavy on your tongue to coat the leather. 

When he pulls them from your mouth, tugging your head back further so that you can look up into the dark tee of his visor as he slides his spit slick gloves between your thighs to press against your throbbing clit, your whimpered little mewl has a chastising tut filtering through the helmet, “Slippery, little thing.” He starts to press slow circles to the aching bundle of nerves, sliding down on every other swirl to press gentle, teasing pressure to your clenching opening. “Did my chasing do all this? Do you like being hunted, brat?”

“Not–” you moan as he presses down hard on your clit, then back to the mouth of your cunt, giving you just the tip of his finger, “Not a brat,” you struggle to get out.

“No?” He starts to press two fingers inside at once, both of you groaning in tandem. “Maker – fucking tight–” He scissors his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist to fuck you open, making room for himself inside of you. “Don’t know if I’ll even fit in here.”

“No,” you groan, low and drawn out, and then, yes, whispered breathlessly, one of your arms reaching back to hold onto the wrist of his hand still twisted in your hair, trying to find purchase on anything to anchor yourself with. Because the stretch of just his two fingers inside of you – you can hear the slick squelch of your wetness as he starts to fuck them in and out of you slowly – is so unexpectedly obscene. You had not expected to find yourself in this position with any man, especially not one like this – had not thought you were yet ready to be touched by another person. Not so soon after– “Please – m– more. I want–”

“You think you’re ready for my cock, little one? Have I stretched this tiny cunt out enough?”

“Yes– yes. Just do it.”

“Fuck–” You listen to the wet little pop as he pulls his fingers from you, and the clink and shuffle of his belt and armor as he pulls himself out of his clothes, and then he’s shifting behind you as you brace against the edge of the table. The burning hot blunt tip of his cock skimming against the round of your ass, and you feel him spread his feet wide, bend his knees, and then his cock is there at the slick mouth of your cunt, and he’s thrusting up and into you on the downward roll of your hips, and Maker, he’s deep like this. Suddenly, twin strangled groans of pain or relief ripping from your throats in tandem as he grinds deep, deeper, for a moment. You feel the heavy kick and throb of his cock inside of you, and he is too big, too thick – he forces you to take it anyway. Stretching you in a way you’ve never been before, your eyes smart, forcing your body to make room for his inside of you, it leaves your breath to stutter out in a weak little puff of shock. 

And you moan, using the palms of your hands against the edge of the table to grind yourself back onto him while his hands clamp tightly around your hips, his fingers so long they almost meet at the center of your belly beneath your navel. 

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. That’s so good.

You can’t tell which one of you is speaking. You can't even tell if you’re still breathing. And then he starts to move. 

You knew he’d fuck hard, from the first moment you’d seen him, you knew.

He pulls his hips back, the slick wet, the grasping walls of your cunt trying to suck him back in, and then the scorching slide of him pressing back in, in, in, grinding again, those long fingers pressing down on your belly so that you feel him from the outside too. 

“Harder,” you beg, because of course you want more. You are a creature made of greed and hunger. You always have been. 

“Quit. You’ll take whatever the fuck you’re given,” but his hips slam back in, a savage growl punctuating the movement. 

He gives it to you almost brutally, without pause or thought, fucking punched out breaths and whines from you. 

“Shut up,” he spits on the end of one particularly deep, harsh thrust that’s followed by a high pitched mewl from you. “You want every piece of shit on Nevarro to find you split open on my cock like this?” Your head lolls back limply on his shoulder, the wet slap of his heavy balls against your clit overwhelming the sound of your thoughts. You can’t speak, your brain is currently being jostled within the confines of your skull by the force of his cock splitting you open. “No? Then be a good girl, and be quiet,” his voice, rough, even through the modulator is almost drowned out by the wet, obscene sound of him pounding into you. 

He brings one of his hands back up to your jaw, turning your head slightly so that your nose is almost smushed up against the chrome of his visor. He wants to look at you. The hard beskar of his chest plate rubs harshly against your back on every push upwards of his hips, and you’re sure that’ll hurt later, but right now you just can’t seem to care. You can feel the humid, warm air of your panting breath, foggy against the gleam of his helmet, and you bring one of your hands up to the wrist holding your face, holding on for dear life, sanity, you’re not sure what. Your other hand twists back into the hanging fabric of his cloak so that you can pull yourself more tightly back into him as he slows his thrusts, making them longer and more drawn out. “Yeah– like that. Settle… good girl.” Your eyes flutter shut. Too much, too much. It should hurt. You wanted it to hurt. Not gentle, you don’t want it gentle.

“Harder,” you whine, plead.

“No. How I say.” He rolls his cock into you over and over, your slick sliding down your thighs, the backs abraded by the plates of beskar over his own legs. He’s so deep, so big it hurts so good. Even if you want it harder, it still hurts so good. The hand at your face slides down to rip open the fastening of your high necked tunic, reaching inside and under your breast band to pull out the heavy aching weight of your tit and pinch your nipple, rolling it between his strong leather clad fingers – more high, desperate mewls that have him groaning deep in his chest. You’re sure if your face wasn't so close to his you’d never be able to hear them through the helmet, low and rumbly and so delicious. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs low, cupping your breast to plump it up, massaging it in his palm.

“What? You can see?” 

“Yeah– fuck yes, I can see.”

“Not fair,” you whine. It’s so dark in the little room he’d pushed you into, you’re not even going to get to take a good look at his cock before this is all over. 

“You don’t need to see. You just need to be good and take it.”

“Do you ever kiss?” you ask him suddenly. Irritated by the fact that you’ve not gotten to ogle him – or kiss him. If he even does that.

Another deep roll of his hips, a tight squeeze to the swinging globe of your breast, “No.”

“That’s a shame.”

And he responds immediately, voice subdued and even, underneath the helmet, despite the fact that you feel like he’s cleaving you in two. “Maybe next time,” he says. His palm slides down to your belly then, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades to fold you over the table, hands moving to wrap around your hips and lift you up and back onto his impaling cock so that the tips of your toes are left skimming the ground beneath, your fingers scramble and claw for purchase against the wood of the table. You can feel the wide tip of his cock punching against your womb on every thrust in and stars flash behind your eyes, mouth hanging open pathetically. 

There is nothing gentle about the way he fucks you. Like he wants to split you in two, like he wants to make sure the shape of him is branded into the center of your body so that you’d never forget this. The sticky sweet coil of your orgasm starts up low in your belly, and you feel molded in his image for one second, pushed out of yourself to stand on the sidelines and look upon the sight of your much smaller form draped over the table and being fucked into so savagely by this silver blade of a man.

And then: they’re fucking bare, they’re fucking raw, and it has been so, so long since he has felt the touch of another person, someone else’s skin on his that was not bestowed upon him in violence or with the barrier of a sheath between. It is an almost overwhelming feeling, that of your hot, soaking wet cunt pulsing around him, you’re about to come for him, he can feel it. The fluttering of your inner muscles, delicate thing that you are, your thighs shaking as you struggle to push yourself back on to him to get it harder, deeper. He is, almost, made faint with the feeling. And those eyes… you’ve got the strangest multicolored eyes. One enshrouded entirely in darkness compared to its bright counterpart – as if one had forgotten to take that last step into the light. You’re fucking beautiful and–

You snap back into yourself. No, no, no, stay out of his head. Stay out of his head. Focus. You push yourself up again so that your back is against his chest, and he bands one tremendously strong arm around you, gripping your breast tightly. You feel him bend his knees framing your thighs to change and deepen the angle, and then he’s pounding right into that tender, devastating place inside of you, and your cunt twists and floods with your orgasm, electric shocks of pleasure numbing your fingers and toes. You can do nothing more than let him do with you what he will. Your toes aren’t even touching the floor. 

He presses as deep as he can, grinds for a moment, and then he folds you over the table once again and presses down harshly on the small of your back with one heavy palm as he pulls his cock from you and finishes himself off. You listen to the wet thwack, thwack, thwack of him pulling on his cock, and then the searing hot spurt of his come is hitting your ass and the exposed seam of your fluttering cunt, a savage growl ripping through the modulator as he squeezes all of the air out of you with that unyielding hand. You’re like a pressed flower between the pages of a book – wilted and frayed, but still held in the image of that which you once were. At the last spurt from his cock he brings his hand to your ass, spreads you apart to rub his spend into the tight furl of your ass, and then further down into your throbbing, overly sensitive clit. All you can do is cry and whimper weakly, still trembling from your own orgasm. “T– too much, nooo,” you whine pathetically.

“Easy – easy, settle.”

You feel him fall to a crouch behind you, pulling you apart with both hands by the meat of your ass to look upon the sight of your blushed, fluttering hole. Messy, little cunt, you hear him whisper. He rubs his come into your trembling thighs, over your swollen clit again, inspecting every vulnerable inch and crevice of your sex, and then he’s pushing two of those thick fingers back inside of you, the passage made slick and fucked open by your mingled come. “Just one more, little one. Want to see it up close,” he murmurs. You try and wiggle away, tears of oversensitivity brimming beneath your lashes, I can’t, I can’t, you think you whisper, but he’s inescapable. He clamps one hand painfully over your asscheek, keeping you spread apart for his inspection, the other one buried deep inside of you so that his fingers are hooked against your g-spot where he presses over and over, quick and relentless, his fingers almost vibrating inside of you until your vision is going white hot and a buzzing sound rings in your ears, and you’re crying for what you think might sound like mercy or something equally despeerate. “Yes, fuck, yes. Just like that.” Your answering sob does not prompt him to abate, for he keeps his fingers pressed against that spot inside of you until you’re leaking an embarrassing amount of wetness down your thighs, until the rippling throbs of your orgasm have finally settled. You feel his head fall forward, the beskar of his helmet pressing against the space where your asscheek meets your thigh, and he holds there for a second against your burning hot skin, the scorching soothed by the cool metal.

You can’t stop shaking, you feel, suddenly, like you might cry. You were not prepared for something of this intensity, to be touched like this, and now that it’s happened you’re left reeling. You don’t even know his name. And now you’re sure he’ll go away to wherever it is that Mandalorian bounty hunters run off to, and you’ll never see him again, and you’ll have to live with the memory of this forever. And something like this… amidst all the other horror that lives within you, you’re sure that the intimacy, the fervor of this, will make it hurt all the more, even compared to all the rest. 

He uncoils behind you, rising up to his towering height. You listen to the rustling of his clothes, and then he’s smoothing a large palm over the slope of your trembling back and reaching down to pull up your trousers, tucking your breast back beneath your tunic, righting your clothes for you without commentary. When you think you’ve finally caught your breath, or can at least pretend you’ve done so, enough to push yourself up from your position over the table. Your eyes feel pinched and hot, your heart beating so hard, almost painfully, within the confines of your ribcage that it feels as though your bones are rattling beneath your skin, knocking together in the imitation of a death rattle so that he’ll surely know that you feel two paces away from falling apart entirely. 

“You’re… Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?” Voice stilted.

“No more than I wanted you to.”

He’s silent for a moment, uncomfortable. You can feel the sensation of him pulling away, getting ready to make a run for it. “That’s not–” he cuts himself off. “Do you– do you spend much time on planet?” He’s awkward, uncomfortable now with this unnecessary notion of seemingly required small talk.

“No.” Lie. You like Nevarro, you spend more time here than anywhere else. 

“What’s your name?” It shocks you that he asks, for you know he’d not give you his if you asked it of him in return, but for one infinitely painful, insanely uncharacteristic moment, you want to tell him. You want to give him your real name desperately, tell him who you are. But if you were to do that, then you might tell him what you are. And then he’d hate you, and the memory would be ruined, and you have so few good ones, that this one must be protected at all costs. 

So instead you say that which you have no real desire to say, do what you have no real desire to do, and make sure that he thinks you’re not interested, that you have no desire to ever see him again. Maybe next time. Your heart gives a surprisingly painful pinch, your eyes growing hotter by the second. “This was just a fuck, don’t get all sentimental on me now.” Your voice is so cold, so uncaring. You hate the way you can make yourself sound sometimes. You sense him snap with tense shock, and he nods once, succinctly. “Very well. Thank you… for this. I suppose.”

You lean back against the table, trying your hardest to appear as unaffected as you can. You turn your face to the side, roll your cheek over the hill of your shoulder. “It was my pleasure.”

He turns to go, his cape snapping with the sharp abruptness of his movements, and he pulls open the door of the little storage room letting a flood of moonlight sweep in to shed light on the construction of this memory you’re assembling brick by brick to preserve in your mind for as long as you possibly can. Your eyes sweep over the length of him ravenously, trying to catalog every single detail of him, the incredible breadth of his shoulders, the silver gleam of his beskar helmet, the sweep of his cape, the arsenal of weapons strapped to his body, lethal. He turns back to look at you for one moment, the yawning darkness of his chrome visor, “Don’t get killed, Mandalorian. There are so few of you left now.” And truth, truth, truth, for it would be a shame beyond imagining for a creature such as this, something so strong and beautiful and other, to perish when so few like him remain. He pauses to take you in, as well. You wish you had the courage to ask him what he sees when he looks at a thing like you. The tears are right there, and you hate them and feel weak and disgusted, but also relieved, and you could fall to your knees, in this moment, to thank the Maker that you still possess the ability, the heart, to cry, to succumb to something as trife as tears. You hope he cannot see them. The helmet cocks to the side for one second, perhaps he too is cataloging you to his memory. He nods once, and then he’s turning and gone away into the night. The door snicks shut behind him, and you’re alone once again. 

You pause for a moment, hoping that relief will come. He’s gone, you got what you wanted from him. You should be glad. But there is only the screaming thought of wait, there was still more, there was still more that I wanted from you. 

You let yourself sink slowly to the ground, hand braced against the edge of the table he just fucked you over, lest your shaking legs give out and have you planting face first into the dirt. You fold your legs beneath you, tuck your wild hair gently behind your ears, your movements measured, trying to breathe deep and slow, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Don’t cry, there’s no reason to cry. But shouldn’t we be glad we can still cry? Isn’t it a sign that not all is lost? That there is still a part of us that feels enough to shed tears? This should be a good thing. And so you let the tears fall. You fold yourself over as small as you can, one hand pressed over your hot, leaking eyes, another over your mouth to keep your sounds contained, and you sob as quietly as you possibly can. It was so good and you’re crying and you’re alive and you’re free. You are free, and you should be glad of this. Cry, cry, but cry for your own victory, for your own freedom, for the chance to cry. This is what victory feels like. This is what it is to be alive. 

And so, here is your truth: It is a difficult thing, to shed the facets of the dark side after you’ve lived with it for so long. To be a Sith is to forsake all connection, all peace. There is only passion to strength to power to victory to the Force, but it is always alone. Always against someone or something else. So, yes, it is difficult to shed the facets of the dark side that have made you the thing you’ve been for more than half your life, since the time you were stolen from your cradle, your parents slaughtered, and spirited away into the shadow of a cruel and unforgiving master. What is it to know exactly how your life will play out, to see everything, to be so aware of what you will be – and to still be lost? Part agony, part madness. The pieces of you that are secretive, that like to hide, to run, these are especially difficult to let go of, and you are so, so interminably sad, you live in it. It’s all you feel you are now, after the dark, after the fall of the Empire and the Sith, after escape, after freedom, after you’d so forcibly ripped its claws, that were so deeply sunk within you, out by sheer force of will, by sheer force of desperation, you worry that it’s taken a piece of you with it, your soul. That it had eaten a piece of you. That you don’t have one anymore. 

You don’t even know his name. And even if you’re certain he would not have given it to you, for one moment, you feel an incredible lance of regret that you did not give him yours. 

But then: a person without a soul could not cry. 

And so this must only be proof of the fact that you must still possess yours, as shriveled or weak as it’s been made, you must still have one. You must. You must. 

And you think: I am not unfamiliar with this half life – there is a wound inside of me – dark and putrid and festering. But perhaps my tears will heal me. Seal the wound closed. 

You feel lonely – worse, you feel strange. Once, you were terrible – now you are only yourself. So you cry for the passion of the moment, for the way he made you feel, for the loss of a name, for the truth of freedom.

Chapter II

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A Shoulder To Cry On

Requested By: @saturnsapothecary Genre: Hurt/comfort Ship: The brothers x reader TW: Mentions of crying, distressed reader, physical contact, Undisclosed stressful situation, soft characters, angst tbh Word count: 1,107 An: Hi! What you are about to read is probably the most angsty thing I have written thus far. I joke a lot in my other writings but in this one I went with a more somber approach, mostly bc I listened to Mitski while writing this entire thing, Anyway, Heed the TW, and Happy reading ♥️

Pt. 2 can be found here (Dateables+Luke edition!)

It had been a rough week, 'Thankfully it's Friday' You thought, Climbing up The HoL staircase as you felt yourself start to break, By the time you had reached your room- all you could do was walk in, close the door, and start crying, collapsing onto the floor, Not hearing the door reopen and a certain demon pop his head inside...

Lucifer

Immediate concern, What has happened? 

He makes a bee-line toward you, kneeling infront of you.

Will rub soft and slow circles into your back as you start to calm down

Once he knows nothing is currently threatening you in any way, He would lead you to his bedroom (Not like that, get your head out of the gutter)

Will offer you a beverage as you sit on his bed, You don’t have to talk to him but…He is here for you and he needs you to know that.

If you want physical comfort, He will sit on his bed, gather you up into his arms and start to rock the two of you, His body crashed against yours like gentle waves, Pulling you in and then pushing you back out.

If you don’t wish to be touched, He absolutely understands either way. He hopes his soft-spoken words of comfort will help you.

He gets it, He feels nonstop worry and exhaustion from his many duties, He strives to make the Devildom a happy place for you but he knows he can not always insure that, But let him try to fix what has plagued you.

Mammon

When he finds you crying he feels horrendous and angry, Not at you of course! Just-

He’s supposed to be your first man, The guy you can find solace in no matter what! But looking at your tear-stained face he can’t help but feel like he’s failed you in a way 

He will do everything in his power to help you though, He may have not been there to stop this all from happening but that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone!

Ask and you shall receive, No complaints! Anything you want that will make your grief lessen, He’d do it for you.

He isn’t the best speaker but he’ll start shooting off at the mouth about how much he cares about you and how he hates seeing you like this- Please let him help, In any way he can. 

Levi

Panic, He can barely handle himself- Let alone another person!

With shaky hands he will put a hand on your shoulder before looking at your reaction, 

If you want Physical comfort, he will slot himself beside you, not outwardly touching you, just kind of leaning onto you

If not, His hand retracts rapidly as he instead sits across from you

Either way, He’ll quietly ask if you want to talk about it, After your done talking/You tell him no- He will invite you to his room where you all spend the rest of the night watching your favorite animes/series

He knows he can’t take away all of your pain, But he hopes he can atleast put some nicer things in your mind

Satan

Brows furrowed, He takes quick but cautious steps toward you, almost like he would a cat.

The first thing that comes to his mind is anger, “Are you okay? Who did this?” He will ask you as softly as he could.

When he finds out what has happened, He will feel the surge of anger come back to him, Not at you- never at you, But at the world. He hates how powerless he feels in these moments, knowing there is nothing for him to solve.

So instead he does what he knows how to do, He takes you through breathing exercises and ways to help you calm down, He has spent centuries managing his anger so he has learned a thing or two-

Will talk you through your worries if you wanted before walking off, Only to then bring back your favorite book with him. He reads to you in the same soft voice you have grown to love, He knows he is only one demon but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to take the weight off your shoulders.

Asmo

His first thought is to swarm you, Asking questions, giving hugs, wiping away your tears- the whole nine yards

But he won’t. He knows how to respect boundaries no matter what, So he pushes down the feeling, instead dropping to his knees infront of you and asking what’s wrong.

If you want a hug or a shoulder to cry on he is their the second it comes out of your mouth, You don’t have to pretend with him, not ever- He won’t think badly of you for anything you vent to him about- He is there for you no matter what, Through thick and thin.

Only if your feeling up to it ofcourse, He’ll lead you to his room and bring out his ‘self care box’ The ice mask he lays across your face washes away the remnants of your tears as his hand cards through your hair

Beel

Drops all of his snacks in a flurry to get to you.

Unlike the others, He is looking for injuries- So your personal bubble is feeling a little violated

Once you tell him you are physically fine, His shoulders relax some and he takes a step away from you and says that he’s sorry for running up on you like that.

Gentle giant mode activated, Is gonna talk to you like he does Belphie, Asking what’s wrong and how he can help.

He feels so much responsibility for you, As he does all of his family, And is so crushed that he can’t go back in time and help you

He starts to think about what makes him cheer up and asks if you’d want to go to Madame Screams with him, If yes then he would put in all of his effort to making you forget all of your troubles

If no, He get’s it! Sometimes he doesn’t wanna go out either, He’ll just offer to go and pick up whatever you like from anywhere, No matter what! 

He wishes he could do more but sharing a dessert with you sounds like a good start.

Belphie

Blinks twice, Trying to see if he was seeing things right

Will make his way over to you in confusion, “Hey what’s wrong?” 

You decide whether you actually tell him or not, he’s chill either way- He understands why you would and wouldn’t want to talk to him about it

He isn’t the best at comforting but he does what he can, He’ll move y’all to your bed and will even give you his special cow pillow

Will start talking about random things, anything and everything- Letting his voice will you to sleep, Making sure that all of your dreams are nothing but happy days, Days he’d hope to make a reality soon.

Hey! Fancy seeing you here, I get that this post was a little heavy on the feelings, I just wanted everyone out there to know that You are not alone- No matter what you are going through and that my Dms and inbox are always open if you need to vent or just to talk in general, My blog is a safe space to anybody who needs it 🖤

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me x reader #self ship #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me satan #ao3 #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me angst #hurt/comfort #angst #obey me hurt/comfort #the demon brothers #obey me x gender neutral reader #obeymexreader #janus'writings #janus’asks

[ponderingmoonlight]

Toji Fushiguro coming back to life to save (y/n) in Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.ll

Pt. l with Gojo and Geto are here

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Notes: Literally no one asked for this, I had to do this for myself after the latest episode okay. Loots of grief, hurt and language. Enjoy

„Hey, it’s been a while“, you mumble to yourself, mindlessly dropping a bouquet of flowers onto the stone in front of you.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

It’s been more than 10 years to be exact. Ten years of working as an assassin, ten years of roaming around without an aim.

Ten years since losing him.

Back then, you never admitted to anyone how you felt about him, how his sight alone made your body do crazy things and lightened up your cloudy mood. He was never a man that was easy to love, let alone very emotional. When it comes to women, Toji probably was the worst man walking on this earth.

But oh how much you loved him. How much you adored the little smile he wore on his face when he teased you, how much you longed for his arms that wrapped themselves around you when nobody was watching, how much you miss his hands roaming all over your body while he fucked you brainless each and every night, screaming out his name like a prayer.

Losing him was the most unbearable pain you’ve ever felt, an event that made you forget your belief in love forever. He was never yours, but losing him shattered your fucking heart. Since he’s gone, you never let another man touch you again, living from alcohol, cigarettes and assignments.

And this.

You visited Toji’s grave whenever you felt enough courage to do so without breaking down. Day after day, week after week, year after year. Always with the same empty feeling that occupies your mind, the what ifs that plague your tired heart whenever you think of him.

Beep beep beep.

Who the hell is calling you right now?

“I’m busy doing nothing”, you bark into your phone.

“(y/n), just wanted to let you know that something’s going on in Shibuya. Rumor has it that that Gojo boy was sealed.”

“Impossible”, you breathe out, almost dropping your phone.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the fucker that killed Toji all these years ago, is gone? Your heart bangs against your chest, mind unable to comprehend the words. This is your chance. The chance to seek revenge, to kill everyone he cares for in one place without resistance.

Everyone expect him.

“I don’t know how this will go. My kid, Megumi. If something happens, keep an eye on him for me, will ya?”

You promised. Despite the fact that you pushed Toji’s past away as far as you could, you have to keep an eye on his son when Gojo isn’t around anymore.

“I thought so too, but seems like that’s a fact.”

“Do we know anything else? Some dirty details?”

“Not really, but someone pretty strong has to be there if that person was able to seal that fucker, don’t you think?”

“Yeah”, you mumble.

“I will take a look at this myself.”

Without waiting for a reply, you hang up and start walking.

This is your chance. After all this years of suffering, regretting, anger and agony, you’ll finally get your revenge. You will show them what the strongest jujutsu sorcerer did to you by taking your love away, by destroying your life so violently that there’s no more happiness left. You will give him a taste of his own medicine.

If Gojo Satoru ever sees the light of day again, all of his beloved ones will be dead. You will make sure of that.

-at Shibuya-

“Jujutsu sorcerers and their fucking curtains”, you mutter to yourself while effortlessly walking through the barrier.

How pathetic to think that curses and other jujutsu sorcerers are their only enemies. After all, Toji was almost able to defeat the strongest of them with nothing but his own rough hands.

Almost. How much you hated that word. He was almost able to defeat Gojo, he was almost able to survive that battle, he almost made it home to you.

But he never did. And that’s why you’re here, standing on top of a tall building while scanning the area around you. A few seconds later, loud bangs can be heard from a stress a few miles away. You spring into action immediately, gliding over the buildings with your harness so effortlessly that even a trained eye wouldn’t detect you. In their world, you are invisible, nothing more than a shadow without jujutsu.

And that’s their weakness.

You stop on a house corner, immediately caught by the sight of none other than Megumi Fushiguro in front of you along with another boy and an old fart. Your heart clenches painfully at the way his cold eyes stare at the old man, his facial features taking you back in time. Oh, he looks so much like his father.

So much that you want to go back home and swallow a bottle of vodka to get his face off your mind. But no, you’re on a mission, you have to make sure that kid is alright and kill all of his friends. You’ve got a job to do, get a hold of yourself.

With skilled eyes, you judge how he moves, how he acts, how he fights. Well, he might not be the best fighter you have seen yet, but he sure has some potential. Together with his little friend, he should be able to defeat that old fart. If not, you’ll come back later.

While you swore on keeping an eye open for him, you’re reluctant to meet Megumi and somehow don’t want him to find out that you’re after his friends and sensei. So you tear your gaze away from him, aiming for the skyscraper in front of you where another fight takes place. Whoever this is will be the first victim of your killing streak.

You will make every single one of these bastards pay for what Gojo did. You will make them feel the way you felt after his decease.

Over.

And over.

Again.

It isn’t hard for you to get up Shibuya tower in the matter of seconds, the harsh winds waving through your hair. Your heart pounds, eyes darting around the area.

Three people, two men are fighting while an old lady sits on the ground.

“And who of you belongs to that Gojo fucker?”, you mumble, gripping both of your katana’s tightly.

This is the moment. After Gojo is sealed, this is your opportunity to finally seek revenge, to kill every single one of them. When this fucker returns, he’ll be alone.

Just like you are since he killed Toji.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get lost”, the old woman hisses.

You stare at the broad back of the man who hits the other without mercy. Damn, that speed, that precision. It’s like back then. His fine technique almost makes him look like…

Toji.

Automatically, your feet carry you forward. You swing yourself in the air, feet ready to kick the broad man into his chest.

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”, you shout.

His eyes dart towards you.

He grabs your ankle.

All you can do is stare at him, mind going completely blank.

His face. This gorgeous face you adored so much. The little scar that emphasized the corner of his delicious mouth so well. His collarbone that creeps through the sweater he’s wearing. No, there’s no doubt. The man standing in front of you is Toji.

“Get out of the way, woman.”

Toji’s frame slams your body against the ground merciless. You see stars, lungs refusing their service as all you can do is stare in horror at the shell of the man you used to love, glimmer of hope nipped in the bud.

This isn’t his voice. This isn’t his smile.

This just isn’t Toji.

You hate the way your eyes start to water as he grabs your throat and yanks you upwards.

“You are not Toji. How dare you to use his body like that”, you cough out.

Instead of replying, he just smiles at you so heartlessly that you feel like throwing up. No, this simply can’t be Toji. This is the empty shell of the man you’ve lost. Feelings flood your heart uncontrollably. Anger, grief and most of all disappointment haunting and bringing you to your knees. God, how much you wished it was true. For the split of a second, you really thought this was him. Your Toji, the man you haven’t forgot after all these years, the only one you ever sacrificed your heart to.

But he’s gone. And he won’t come back.

“There needs to be a corpse for shapeshifting. Dumb girl, of course this isn’t Toji Zen’in. But you will die through his hands.”

Your body refuses to move. All you can do is watch as he throws the body of the other man down, off the tower, into certain death.

Fuck. Is this really how it ends?

“Y’know, you’re actually not that bad.”

“I hope so, jackass. Otherwise I’ll throw you out.”

“C’mon princess, don’t be like that. Y’know I’m obsessed with you.”

“Oh yeah? Might need to hear that again…”

“I’d rather show you.”

Like in slow-motion, his frame casually walks back and comes to a stand next to the old woman. Every limb of your body screams out in pain, lungs feeling like they’ll rip apart any minute. So this is the force of Toji Fushiguro.

It could be funny, actually. You always thought Toji is the strongest man on this earth, admired him for his sheer strength despite not being a jujutsu sorcerer. But when he was with you, his deadly touch became gentle, caressing you with what felt like…love.

Did he really love you? Who knows. But you did. Oh, how much you loved that man – the man whose back is now faced towards you, muscles tight by the thought of killing you with his bare hands.

Is there anything more ironic than getting killed by Toji Fushiguro?

“I would rather die through his hands than living like this until I’m as old and ugly as you.”

“Grandson.”

“I know, granny.”

He turns around. The shell of the man you thought about every night before drifting off to sleep, the man that is the only one you ever dedicated your heart to. That oh so rough face that felt so gentle against your fingertips. How much you’d give to talk to him one last time, to let him know how you really feel.

With a swift motion, he grabs your throat again, feet hanging in the air as you feel like life is slowly drifting away from you. Before your blurry vision threatens to eat you alive, he slams your already weak body into the floor, blood spurting in every direction.

Nothing but darkness and this foreign far away voice that speaks out of his body.

“That should be enough.”

Your fingers twitch. Is this the end? His footsteps echo through your brain.

“Granny, wh-wh-wh-wh-what do whe do now?”

“It won’t hurt to keep Satoru Gojo out of play. So go down below and kill sorcerers.”

…

“Grandson?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re ordering around, old hag? And how dare you to hurt ma princess?”

That voice…You must be hallucinating. It sounds just like him, just like you remember it. That deep unpromising vibration that made you go crazy more than once.

A shriek, a dull fall, silence. Footsteps that are approaching you again. Heavy, confident steps.

“I thought you can take more than that, princess.”

Hands grab your shoulders gently, lifting your bruised and weak body out of the dirt. You force yourself to open your heavy eyelids, mind still trying to process what is happening.

You stare right into his ocean blue eyes.

“Missed me?”

Your shaky breath rings in your ears, trembling hands searching for hold on his shoulders.  

“Toji?”

Nothing more than a fade whisper in the night, a faint hope resonates.

“You’re still looking hot.”

Tears swell up your eyes before you can catch yourself while you wrap your aching arms around him for dear life. This has to be a dream, some cruel technique, a hallucination. But you don’t give a fuck. At the moment, all you can think about is how he wraps his large arms around your waist and back while holding the back of your head and the way he smells.

God, he smells just like you remember, just like the Toji you knew.

“Please tell me you’re back. Tell me this isn’t just a cruel dream. I don’t want to wake up anymore….”

“Live and in color. It’s been a while”, he comments.

Your eyes dart towards him and his sly grin. The grin you know all too well, the grin you adored more than anything else in the world.

“I missed you every single fucking day. And now…And now you’re standing in front of me. Alive”, you stammer.

“These fuckers thought they could use my powers against you. Ain’t no way  I’d let this happen princess. Even if it means going to hell and back to be with you.”

Your fingers trace over his cheeks, his collarbones, his broad chest.

“It’s me, (y/n)”, he confirms your unspoken question.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? Missed ya too. And can’t wait to show you how much. But work comes first and I still have a lot of shit to do.”

“I came here to take revenge, to kill all of Gojo’s little puppies for what he did to you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“What a good girl you are, I always loved ya for that. Let’s get you out of here first. I’ll be back in a few hours, ‘kay?”

Toji…Loves you? Your hands dig into his firm biceps, eyes piercing right through him for any sign of sarcasm, any sign of manipulation.

But no, it’s clear. The man in front of you is indeed Toji Fushiguro. And he told you that he loves you.

He’s back and he loves you.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much! Living without you was hell”, you cry out, completely breaking down in tears while he holds you in his arms.

“I know princess, I know… Will catch up on everything, I promise. Let’s get you outta here. So sorry for hurting you like that.”

He picks you up in his arms while you allow yourself to close your eyes and lean your face against his chest. This might be a manipulation, a dream and nothing more. But you never thought you’d get him back. Fuck, after more than 10 years you’re really back in his arms.

Screw if this isn’t real. For this precious moment, you finally feel home again.

#jjk imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk season 2 #jjk hurt #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x you #fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi

[tonowarii]

A Life for A Life

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Fem! Omaticaya! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: “It can’t all be sorrow, can it? I’ve always been alone, so I don’t feel the lack. It’s all I’ve ever known. I’ve never experienced loss because I’ve never had a loved one to lose. But what is grief, if not love persevering?” - Vision, WandaVision.

Word Count: 7.8k

Warning/s: MAJOR ATWOW spoilers!! violence, swearing, angst to the max!! CHARACTER DEATH, hurt no comfort, just pain and suffering

Note: Now that I think about it, this may be my first time writing full on angst and having that certain tag in my warnings 👀 this piece absolutely broke me so I hope it breaks you too jk <3 Likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are most welcome and appreciated! Let me know your thoughts! And let me know if you want to see a comfort drabble for this!

GIF is mine!

You had understood Lo’ak when no one could.

Over the years growing up together, Lo’ak had created a soft spot for you in his heart, soon blooming into a romantic feeling that Lo’ak couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

At first, he just thought you were a good friend, a shoulder to lean on, but the more he stares at you whenever he finds himself ranting about his father again, he saw how your eyes held this certain look in them, how your ears perk every time he speaks a little louder because of his frustration.

Then he felt how long your touch lingered on him when you give him a comforting hug. It didn’t mean much to him at first, just an act of comfort, but when he soon realized his feelings for you, he almost wanted you to not pull away. He wanted to cling to you, he wanted to rest himself on you.

You were that person who could make his problems melt away just by the sound of your voice, and your gentle touches. He found it even easier to rest with you rather than being with his family, he liked to admit, but would never say it out loud.

Whilst Lo’ak delt with his feelings for you, you had also began to grow longing for him. Whenever he was out on a mission or just a hunt, you would find yourself worrying when he’ll be coming back, or even if he was going to comeback due to his share of recklessness.

You find yourself waiting, and when they do comeback, the first thing you wanted to see was him. Often, he’d come back perfectly fine, physically. Emotionally and mentally? Not so much as you could also feel the anger radiating off his father when he had disobeyed another rule of his.

You often get to witness how Lo’ak just looked down at his feet while he was getting reprimanded by his dad. Then when he dismisses them, you hurry off towards him.

This had been a routine for both of you, Neytiri almost thought that his son was dating you, surprising her by saying the two of you were just close friends, even if Neytiri could see how much untroubled Lo’ak was with you and how she could tell her son loved you just by her motherly instinct.

Then there was the time that came when Lo’ak finally had acted upon his feelings for you. It certainly took him a while, but every effort he made was worth it. It started by whenever he’s going to see you, he made sure to bring a little flower or two, surprising you. At first, he played it off, saying it was a sign of thanks. ‘For always listening to me complain and stuff’

Then soon it evolved into anklets made with little trinkets he found on the way to see you. You were beginning to get nervous when Lo’ak had started giving you these gifts, what could it possibly mean? And you, you were falling hard.

Lo’ak then had asked you to meet him after eclipse in your usual spot. You agreed, thinking Lo’ak just maybe needed a change of scenario.

Oh boy how you were wrong.

Lo’ak was almost jumpy from his nervousness as he was finally going to confess to you. He was already happy hen you agreed to meet him by eclipse, but that also meant his plan was a go.

“Lo’ak?” You softly called out. Then you heard a faint rustling before his voice replied. “Here.”

Upon hearing his voice, you’ve gotten the courage to stepf forth towards him. Looking around, your spot was much more beautiful at night as glowing vines hanged from trees, the ground glowed a soft green and purple, the leaves were being picked up by the breeze, sending glowing particles everywhere.

Then you spotted a kenten, your eyes widening with glee as you approached it, your hand reached out as you give it a small tap. It squeaked before unfurling its wings, glowing brightly and spinning away as you let out a loud laugh.

Then thanks to the glow of the kenten, it highlighted Lo’ak, who was watching you with a smile on his face.

You blush. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He responded, before beckoning you to come sit with him in the grass. “C’mere.”

Following, you sat across from him.

The silence had settled after a few minutes, the sound of nature was the only thing that can be heard, along with your occasional breathing.

Lo’ak then gulps, finally looking at you in the eyes and swallowing every bit of pride that he had as he softly grabbed your hand and held them against his bigger ones.

“The- the reason I asked you to see me here is because... I’ve like... No- shit... Okay, its because I love you (Y/N). Even if I tried, I can’t stop thinking of you. I always find myself picking up things to give to you, even if its just a little flower, and... Even if I know you deserve more than just that.”

Lo’ak could feel himself tense with the words he was saying, but he didn’t stop. “I don’t know what you did to me (Y/N),” He chuckles before heaving a deep breath “I just know I love you, not in that friend way... I love you as in I want to be with you, I want to provide for you, I want to be by your side, always. I’m actually getting ahead of myself- but I needed to say this to you. It is fine if you don’t feel the same way, I know I took too much time in saying this and I’m sounding very stupid right now because you are just staring... And-“

With a playful smack to his head, sending Lo’ak looking at you dumbfounded, stopping his declaration of love for you.

You laugh at his reaction before smiling widely as your heart pounded from hearing his words.

“You skxawng. It took you long enough.”

That’s when the long-awaited relationship finally bloomed between the two of you. Lo’ak couldn’t be any happier, well, the teasing of his family often makes him wanna smack his head on the tree but nonetheless, he was happy as his family accepted you, and your family couldn’t be any happier.

But every relationship has its ups and downs.

After a few years, the RDA was back and it has been rumoured that they were targeting Jake Sully again.

That’s when Lo’ak had faced the consequences of his actions when he went to the abandoned shack with his siblings. He found himself stood in front of you with the aftermath, with it being that they had to leave to get far away from the people, to protect them.

Tears clouded your vision, shaking your head no as Lo’ak pulled you in a hug as your tears rolled down your cheeks, placing your balled fists on his chest.

“No, I won’t have this, Lo’ak. I won’t. I don’t want to be far away from you.” You sobbed through, voice cracking in the process as Lo’ak frowned, holding you.

“We can’t. I can’t do anything about it, (Y/N). We leave tomorrow, dad had already talked to grandma about the next olo’eyktan.”

You sob harder, clinging onto him as his arms gave you a tight squeeze. Lo’ak didn’t want to leave you, but with his encounter with the avatars, it made him think that what if you were the one held captive?

But the way you were holding him it seemed like you had no plans of letting go.

He rubs your back as your cries slowly turned to sniffles.

“Lo’ak?” You ask, voice still shaky.

“Hm? What is it, baby?” Lo’ak’s voice answered.

“I’m going with you.”

Your parents were initially against the idea of you joining the Sully family, but they had soon agreed once Jake and Neytiri had promised that they would protect you and treat you as their own.

It was hard saying goodbye to your parents, but you had no choice, you didn’t want to be separated from him, not when you were miles away with no point of contact.

Lo’ak had then also secretly promised to your parents that he’d protect you, even if it had cost his life.

Then you had left Omaticaya.

During the long journey, you and Lo’ak stayed flying side by side on your ikrans, talking to each other to ease the tiredness.

Reaching the Metkayina clan, you were instantly curious as they had a huge contrast from your home, considering they were reef dwellers.

They had been surrounded by ocean; their skins were teal-green. They had bright blue eyes and tattoos that littered their body. Though you didn’t like the boys who made fun of your tails, sending them a glare your way when they had pointed out Lo’ak’s tail, and his four fingers.

Once the family had settled in, you were quickly advised by Jake to learn fast and to not be a burden. But the first few days were hard considering Ao’nung, the chief’s son, was being a total douche. He was always making fun of either one of you for not being able to learn fast.

Tsireya, now the chief’s daughter and sister of Ao’nung, was much more kinder, advising that every little progress is still progress. You’ve quickly found yourself befriending her due to your lessons together and Tsireya was more than happy to find a new friend.

Lo’ak however, was still finding difficulty with trying to follow due to Ao’nung and his gang’s teasing remarks. But he tried not to let his anger get the best of him. That seems to work considering you were always right there beside him when you were done with your lessons. That provided him with the comfort that you were still here, with him in every step of the way.

But at the end of every day, you find yourself and Lo’ak on the shore, talking to each other like you did back in the forest of Pandora.

“You did well today.” You smile, leaning against Lo’ak’s shoulder.

“Yeah? When I almost drowned?” Lo’ak joked making you laugh. “Maybe.” You teased and Lo’ak smiled, but then it was followed by a sigh. You glanced up at him “What’s wrong?”

Lo’ak looks at you before glancing back at the ocean “What if we don’t get used to this? What if I don’t get used to this? The people earlier… I saw them looking at me, at my hands… I hear them saying I’m not a true Na’vi, that I’m demon blood.”

“Hey, Lo’ak, no. You’re not what they say you are. You are Na’vi and Eywa has known it since the start. You,” You said, holding up his hand and grasping his pinky with your three fingers. “You are not a demon, you’re not demon blood. Your dad, he was, and I repeat, was once part of the Sky People, right? But look at him now, just doing what he can to protect his family, I don’t see any trace of demon blood in there. All I see is a good person doing what he thinks is right. Like you, Lo’ak. You are a good person, don’t let them make you question yourself.”

With a deep breath, you looked at him. “I see you.”

By the time you finished, you gave a light squeeze to his hand, finally intertwining it with yours as you showed him. Lo’ak’s eyes had tears threatening to spill out from them as he pursed his lips together, fighting down the lump in his throat. “Remember that Lo’ak, okay?” You say, facing the back of his hand towards your face as you give it a light kiss, looking at him. “I love you either way.”

“(Y/N).” He finally spoke, voice cracking. “Thank you. I love you. I see you.” He lets go of your hand to pull you in a side hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulder while your hand made its way around his waist. Your head perfectly rested against his shoulder as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

You both had ended watching the eclipse in silence, holding onto each other for strength.

A few weeks had passed, and things was just starting to get good when you’ve heard that Lo’ak and Neteyam had picked a fight with Ao’nung and his gang.

Lo’ak had then explained that Ao’nung was picking on Kiri, calling her a freak. It made you frown while the sibling being spoken of was nowhere to be seen. You had been inspecting Lo’ak’s bruises since he came in the Marui with Neteyam, and Lo’ak was holding his arm.

You watched as Neteyam tried to take the blame again when Jake refused. You were about to wipe the blood from his nose when Lo’ak gently pushed you away, looking at you with a shake of his head. You then backed away, understanding.

“Go, apologize to Ao’nung.” Jake stared at his son. “What?” Lo’ak said, surprised.

“He’s the chief’s son, do you understand? I don’t care how you do it, just go. Make peace. And (Y/N), can you see where Kiri is?” Jake said to Lo’ak then to you.

You and Lo’ak stared at each other. You give him a soft glance as he sighed, nodding and walking out of the marui, then you followed outside to find where Kiri was.

Your worry began to grow when Lo’ak had not yet returned when it was almost eclipse. You finally had the nerve to go around and ask for his whereabouts, the first person you asked was Neteyam.

Walking out of your marui and onto the communal area, where you had stumbled upon a frantic-looking Neteyam. “Neteyam!” You shout over to him, and he spots you, jogging until he stopped in front of you.

“Have you seen Lo’ak?” He asked you first. Your brows furrowed, shaking your head. “I was about to ask you the same thing!”

Neteyam sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his head. “Where could that boy be.”

“I’m getting worried, Neteyam, he hasn’t returned yet.” You spoke.

Then as if on cue Ao’nung’s gang had passed, laughing their ass of as you were able to pick up on what they were saying, and it seemed like Neteyam did as well.

“I wish we stuck on more to see the look on his face!”

“Why didn’t you lead him even deeper down in the reefs, I heard there’s more scary creatures there.”

“Forest boy doesn’t even know what’s coming to him.”

Neteyam had acted first before you. He was already on Ao’nung, shoving his chest with anger evident in his features. “Where is my brother?”

Ao’nung looks at Neteyam, before he spots you taking the spot behind Neteyam, anger also evident on your face. Ao’nung smirks, shrugging. “I don’t know, maybe he’s past the reef, said he liked to go hunting with us. I guess he stayed back.” He said in a taunting voice.

Your eyes widened and you were about to make a move to fight the boy when Neteyam already did it for you, he shoves Ao’nung around, his hand immediately grabbing onto his hair, tightening his grip on it as Ao’nung grunted in pain, sudden fear overcoming him as he was held by his queue.

You hissed at Ao’nung as Neteyam held him in place. His friends were shocked before they scurried off after meeting your hiss towards them, not being the one next to be held by their queue.

Ao’nung has his hands up in surrender. Neteyam looks at you and he jerks his head towards the direction of your marui. “Let’s go.”

After a search party had been set out for Lo’ak, you and Neteyam waited in the communal area, your legs were bouncing in anxiety as torches had been lit around to make light in the dark.

Neteyam could sense your worry, he was too, but he offers you a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your back. The two of you had waited, every passing second felt like torture.

Then someone had sounded the horn.

“The boy has been found!”

Wasting no time, you stand upright with Neteyam following you as you hopped down onto the docks. The heavy weight on your chest disappearing once you see Lo’ak climbed on top.

You were about to approach him when he had that look of anger in his eyes directed at Ao’nung, he was about to launch at him when Jake had prevented him.

“He’s fine, he’s fine. It’s just a few scratches.” Jake said, making you sigh in relief as you moved forward, getting a clear view of him as Neytiri jumped down.

“I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.” She snarled at Lo’ak, making Lo’ak shake his head, ignoring his mother.

“No, my son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” Tonowari, the olo’eyktan of the Metkayina spoke. “The blame is his.” He said, pushing his son, Ao’nung down on one knee.

You and Neteyam watch the whole scene play out.

“No, this is not Ao’nung’s fault. It was my idea.” Lo’ak then suddenly said, catching the two of you by surprise. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really.”

After that whole ordeal was finished, you had decided to take Lo’ak to treat his wounds.

The following days had been a whirlwind of al sorts of things, good and bad. Ao’nung had finally made amends with the Sully family. You were still wary of him, but as time had passed, you also grew to like him as a friend. Now, all of you were spending the afternoon together, circled around as Lo’ak told the story of him coming across a tulkun.

“I wish I had been there. The ocean blessed you with a gift, brother.” Kiri said, smiling at Lo’ak while you sat beside him, listening.

“The tulkun have not returned yet, and- anyway, no tulkun is ever alone.” Ao’nung said, gesturing.

“Well, this one was,” Lo’ak started. “He had uh- um a missing fin. Like a stump on the left side.”

“Poor Tulkun.” You could hear Tuk say before Tsireya spoke. “Payakan. It’s Payakan.”

You tilted your head, looking at Tsireya. “Who’s Payakan?” You asked her.

Rotxo was the one to answer. “A young tulkun who went rogue. He is outcast, alone, and he has a missing fin.”

“They say he is a killer.” Tsireya told all of you.

“No.” Lo’ak muttered. “He killed Na’vi and other tulkun.” Ao’nung said, looking at Lo’ak. “Not here, but far to the south.

“No, he’s no killer.” Lo’ak looked down. “Lo’ak you are lucky to be alive.” Tsireya said.

“I’m telling you guys; he saved my life!” Lo’ak turned to you, hoping you’ll believe him as he held your hand. “He’s my friend.”

“My baby bro.” Neteyam piped up, standing behind him to place his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. “The mighty warrior, who faced the killer tulkun, and lived to tell about it.”

Lo’ak grunted in frustration, standing up, letting go of your hand. “You guys aren’t listening.” He said, he spares one last glance at you before he was walking away.

“Lo’ak!” You called out to him, but he was already gone.

The next few days, Lo’ak had been spending more time with Payakan rather than with you, or his family. It made you miss him, of course. But there was nothing you could do as you knew Lo’ak could be quite stubborn himself. So you had busied yourself with the others, including Tsireya.

You had just reached the surface, holding onto your ilu as Tsireya smiles back at everyone. “We are here.”

You moved forward to see the absolute breath-taking view you’ve ever seen. You feel a smile creep up to your face as you breathed out “Wow.”

“This is the cove of the ancestors.” Tsireya spoke, out from the corner of your eye you could see Rotxo smiling at your reactions. “Our most sacred place.”

“Eclipse is the best time of day to be here.” Tsireya explained as you hid your face using your hand from the blinding light. Tsireya urged you all to move forward, before stopping as she extended her hand out. “This is it; this is The Spirit Tree.”

Hopping off your ilu and diving down, you were met with The Spirit Tree. Your eyes widen as you inspect it. You were beside Neteyam and Tuk while Rotxo signalled for you to attach your queue towards it. You three looked at each other, before you were grabbing onto your queue, softly placing it against the tendril.

Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ as you were overcame with the voices of their ancestors. You smiled along with Neteyam and Tuk. It truly was a beautiful thing to hear and see.

But all of that would end as the Spirit Tree begins flashing, making you look around to find Kiri’s body spasming underwater. Taking off your tsaheylu, you nudged Neteyam and pointed at her.

All of you swam towards her, both you and Neteyam grabbing a hold of either arm of hers as you swam her back up to the surface.

Neteyam lifts Kiri’s faint body on the ilu while you surround them. “Kiri!” You tried shaking her, but it was no use. “What’s wrong? What is it?!” Tuk asks, alarmed. “It was a seizure.” Neteyam answered, providing her CPR.

“Is she breathing?” Rotxo asked as you had the idea of gathering the ilu already. Once you hear Kiri’s gasp of breath, Tsireya spoke up. “Get her back to the village!”

Kiri was still unconscious and that led Jake to call on Norm and max to check upon her. It seems like Neytiri also had the same idea as she brings Ronal, the tsahik of the Metkayina towards their Marui.

You, Neteyam, and Lo’ak were stood outside, giving them room. But you couldn’t help but question Lo’ak.

“Where were you?” You asked Lo’ak as he stared at the ground. Neteyam could sense an argument coming just from the tone of your voice, he knew better than to interfere, letting you talk to his own brother as he excused himself to go inside the marui to check upon Kiri.

Lo’ak doesn’t answer. “Lo’ak.” You spoke. “Were you out looking for Payakan again?” You questioned. “I was, so what?” Lo’ak finally snapped, looking at you and standing straight, making you look up at him.

That didn’t deter you. “Lo’ak, you’re no longer spending time with us, you’re always out there!” You say, pointing towards the ocean. “You forget you have a family back here; you forget that you have me here.” You said, frowning at him. “Something worse could’ve happened to Kiri and what- you’re out there bonding with an outcast!”

You didn’t mean the words you said, and you rarely ever argued with Lo’ak. You tried to understand him, but he needed to understand you too. Lo’ak sneers at you, shaking his head “I thought you’d understand.” He said before walking off. “Lo’ak, Lo’ak!” You called out to him.

The tensions grew after a few days of not speaking to him, but Lo’ak seemed to get things together as he finally ended up apologizing to you one day as you were wrapping food. You forgave him, saying that he needed to understand where you were coming from. He realized it.

Your relationship with Lo’ak, even if it did sometimes cause arguments, it always ended up with you opening up to each other about what he or you did, or what he and you didn’t like. You were happy you got it sorted out, you didn’t want to be another thing that Lo’ak stressed about. You wanted to be there for him.

But one day, it surprised you when the horn sounded, and you could hear Tsireya’s voice. You, Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Tuk raced out the marui, wondering what was going on.

“The tulkuns have returned! Everybody! Our brothers and sisters have returned!” Tsireya waves. Then all of you stood mesmerised as groups of tulkun had entered. Your smile widened as the people raced to jump out in the water with cheers.

You gasp, looking at Lo’ak before grabbing his hand, tugging him towards the ocean. “Let’s go!”

You ended up riding on Lo’ak’s ilu behind him, an arm wrapped around him as you pointed at the many tulkun underwater. Lo’ak followed your gaze as he drove his ilu. His hand carefully placed on your thigh so you don’t fall off. He occasionally taps it to make you look where he was looking at.

You smile, seeing the Metkayina greet their brothers and sisters, making you appreciate the beauty of it all as you lay your head on Lo’ak’s shoulder. You even spot his siblings holding onto the fins of the tulkun as they swam around.

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

One day, Tsireya and the others, including you, had decided to follow Lo’ak on one of his trips to Payakan.

You swam closer until Tsireya stops you, holding onto a stem to steady yourself.

There he was, the love of your life, Lo’ak, in front of who you deemed was Payakan as you got a good glance of his stump on his fin. You watched as the tulkun, or Payakan, open his mouth widely, making you furrow your eyebrows and look at Lo’ak.

You saw him contemplating, making you question if he was really going to go in there.

He did. You watched him as he swam inside Payakan’s mouth.

The next seconds made your heart spike. Payakan closed its mouth, completely swallowing Lo’ak whole. You and Neteyam were just about to go over him when Ao’nung held you back, as with Tsireya and Neteyam. You looked at Ao’nung and he signed ‘Wait’.

You look at him, shaking your head, wanting to go but his firm hold doesn’t make you budge. You look over at Neteyam, making him shrug. You could tell he also wanted to go to his brother.

But when Lo’ak comes out from Payakan, still in one piece, it made you relieved. But then that led to Lo’ak seeing all of you.

Unfortunately, that also led to unfortunate events as the other Metkayina hunters had spotted you outside the reef. Then it led to a lecturing by Tonowari and Ronal, furthermore, having Jake hover over Lo’ak and his actions.

But that wasn’t all, you had received the news that Ronal’s spirit sister, had been hunted and left floating in the ocean. This had angered the Metkayina, now pushing them to engage in Jake’s war.

“My spirit sister, and her baby have been murdered by Sky People!” Ronal shouted.

“This war has come to us. We knew about this hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon far away!” Tonowari said. “Now it is here!”

You frowned then felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking to the side it was Lo’ak. You hugged his side as Jake’s voice intervened. “You gotta understand how the Sky People think! They don’t care about the great balance.”

That only let the Metkayina exclaim out in anger as Neteyam spoke. “Listen, listen to him!”

“The Sky people are not gonna stop. This is only the beginning. You gotta tell your tulkun to leave, you gotta tell them to go far away!” Jake explained.

“Leave?” Ronal spat back at him. “You live among us, and you learned nothing!” Her voice breaking sends you to grip a little tighter against Lo’ak.

“We will fight to protect our brothers and sisters!” A Metkayina warrior announced, earning the praise of people as they agreed. Jake shakes his head, “If you attack, if you fight, then they will destroy you! They will destroy everything that you love!” Jake shouted. You breathed out, looking back at Lo’ak to find him looking at his father.

The people wouldn’t listen as Jake began to get frustrated. He looks for something and plucks it out of Neteyam’s grip and he presents it to the people. You tilt your head, seeing a needle-like object covered in red. You stared at it. Then silence came.

“You tell the tulkun, if they are hit by one of these they’re marked for death… call for me. I’ll silence it… saving their lives, that’s all that matters, right? Saving your family.” Jake finished.

Tonowari and Ronal looked at each other before the decision has been made. “Tell the tulkun. Go.”

Everyone had scurried away, and you could feel Lo’ak slipping from your grip as he turns around. “Lo’ak!” You called out, that gathered the attention of Tsireya, Kiri, Tuk, Rotxo, Ao’nung, and Neteyam as they followed you.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing?” You asked him as he placed the saddle on his ilu. “I have to warn Payakan.”

“No, Lo’ak, you’ve got to stay here.” You said sternly at him. Lo’ak shakes his head. “He is outcast. There is nobody to warn him but me!” Lo’ak defended.

Then came the footsteps of the others, Neteyam stepping right beside you as the others watched.

“Bro, why do you always have to make things so hard?” Neteyam said. Lo’ak then glared at his brother, sneering.

“No, you mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you?! The perfect little soldier- well I’m not you!” Lo’ak shouted at him.

“Lo’ak!” You scolded, looking between him and Neteyam. Neteyam exhales, frowning at his brother.

“I’m not you! Okay? He’s my brother. I’m going!” Lo’ak said.

“No, I’m your brother.” Neteyam said, gripping Lo’ak’s arm. “Get off me!” Lo’ak said jerking his arm away from Neteyam’s grip to jump on his ilu. You gasp, “Lo’ak!”

“Go, go, let’s go, he’s going to Payakan!” Neteyam pats you on the shoulder as the others nodded. You called for your ilu before jumping and making tsaheylu.

“Come back, Lo’ak!” You begged. Lo’ak doesn’t look back as he dives in the water, speeding up. The rest of you followed as you tried to fight the heavy feeling in your heart.

Reaching Payakan, you had seen Lo’ak pulling out the same tracker that Jake held earlier. Your eyes widened as you tried helping Lo’ak pull it off. “Hurry, the ships are coming! They’re over there!”

You tried to pull but it wasn’t budging. “Call dad, go! Just go, do it!” Neteyam shouted at Lo’ak. Lo’ak follows, trying to contact his father as the four of you tried to pull the tracker out of Payakan.

“It’s getting closer!” Tsireya exclaimed as you tried pulling harder, grunting. “I know!” You said, quickly diving down underwater to grab a vine, tugging it and swimming to the surface, you hand it over to them.

“Here! Ao’nung, Neteyam!” You shout. They quickly got the idea as you tied the other end of the vine to your ilu. “Go, go, go!” Ao’nung said as you mounted your ilu, commanding it to pull as hard as it can as you scream.

“Pull! Harder!” Tsireya shouted as you tried. Then it finally gives up as it was finally removed.

You tug the vine, reaching the tracker as you held it in your hands. “Go! Go with them, I’ll hold them off!” You shout. Lo’ak looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes as the others moved quickly. “Go!” You shouted at him with a hard gaze.

He nods slowly before catching up with the others. You tried to move as farther as you can, holding the tracker in your hand as you dove in. But a shockwave near you almost dismounts you from your ilu, but you kept going. Once you had deemed it was far enough, you let go, letting it drop to the ocean floor.

Now your problem was going back to them. To Lo’ak.

Your eyes scanned everywhere for any sign of them, but you couldn’t find anything. You moved up to the surface just in time for you to see two banshees carrying a net that held Tsireya and Tuk on the inside, while Lo’ak was fighting to get them out from the outside.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed. You then had to look for Neteyam, hoping he wasn’t captured as well. Then you heard the wailing of the people arriving on their skimwings. You bit your lip, looking around. Your breathing ragged as you prepared to let your ilu move. But something appeared from beside you, making you gasp but it was only Neteyam. “Shh!” He said, placing a hand on your mouth. He then lets you go when you calmed down. “Neteyam, they- they’ve got them.” You spoke. “I know. I saw.” Neteyam sighs, thinking of a way to get his siblings back. “We try to-“ Neteyam was cut off as you saw Payakan in the distance launch himself onto the ship.

“Holy shit!” Neteyam exclaimed. You then saw a bunch of boats headed at Payakan.

“That’s us, let’s go, let’s go!” Neteyam said to you as his ilu raced to the demon ship. You follow, racing beside him.

You watched as the war waged on between the Metkayina and the Sky People. Then you saw the demon ship caught on fire as it began moving in full speed towards a rock, launching itself up in the air before landing against it, slowing down to a halt.

“Follow me, alright!?” Neteyam looks back at you. You nodded frantically as you watched him dive, tagging along as you steered your ilu underwater.

Then Neteyam charges upwards, hopping off his ilu and he climbs up towards the ship, you copied his movements, landing on the ship with a loud thud.

“Neteyam! (Y/N)!” Tuk exclaimed in joy. “(Y/N)!” Lo’ak said in surprise, looking at you. “Hey there baby brother, need some help?” Neteyam chuckles as you cut off the bands of Tsireya, then Tuk with your own dagger.

Neteyam was left with Lo’ak. “Get Tuk out of here, Reya.” You said to her, patting her back as she nods, taking Tuk’s hand before jumping in the water. You then waited for Neteyam to free Lo’ak.

“Who’s the mighty warrior, hm? Come on, say it!” Neteyam teased Lo’ak who rolled his eyes, he was now cut free. You sigh in relief as you ran to embrace him as his arms wrapped around you tightly.

Resting your head on his chest as Lo’ak kisses the crown of your head.

“Come on, let’s go you two, move!” Neteyam said, chuckling. You pulled away from the hug with a chuckle. As you were about to jump off with Neteyam, that’s when Lo’ak stopped in his tracks and goes the other way, making the two of you look at him.

“Lo’ak!” Both of you shout. He picks up a rifle on the ground, cocking it. “They’ve got Spider. We’ve gotta get him, come on.” Lo’ak said, looking at the two of you. “Come on, (Y/N)?” Lo’ak looks at you when Neteyam doesn’t respond. As far as you knew, Spider was Lo’ak’s brother too, even if he was human.

“Okay, I’ll come with you.” You said, nodding. Neteyam smacks his fist on the ground before following the two of you.

Sneaking in the ship wasn’t easy, there were a lot of humans evacuating as their urgent voices filled the ship. You, Lo’ak, and Neteyam used your skills in climbing to climb upon the metal ceilings of the ship.

Then you spot the group of humans who were escorting Spider as you silently landed on a platform, sending a signal to the two of them, pointing down. You waited until you strike.

Jumping down on the ground you stuck your dagger in one, before grabbing one and flinging him to the side on the wall as Neteyam dealt with the others. You had grabbed another one and flung them out the edge, letting them fall in the ocean. Lo’ak grabs a gun, this time as he turns around, he spots another one gaining consciousness, reaching for the gun and aiming to shoot at you.

Lo’ak had acted before he thought, finger curling around on the trigger, sending bullets flying towards the human and upwards the ceiling until he lets go, the human falling limp on the ground. You flinched at the sound, turning to see Lo’ak holding a gun and the human in front of him dead. Lo’ak stared down at the human, then at his gun.

Neteyam and Spider looked before hurrying to leave. “Let’s go.” You hold Lo’ak’s hand, grounding him for a moment as he nods, running over towards the open water.

But before you could leave, one of them had already spotted you, leading you to be pushed to the side as bullets were fired. “Go! go!” All of you huddled against a corner.

“Give me that!” Neteyam snatches the gun from Lo’ak’s hand before firing at the enemy. “Go go go!” Neteyam still fired at them while Lo’ak and Spider took the opportunity to sprint and jump in the water. Due to your sudden fear creeping up in your veins, you had lagged behind.

“(Y/N), go!” Neteyam shouted at you, but you knew better you weren’t leaving Lo’ak’s brother. You knew how much Neteyam meant to Lo’ak.

Once they had stopped firing, you grabbed Neteyam with all your might, pushing and making him jump into the water as you joined him behind as another round of bullets were fired.

Jumping in the water with them, you swam under the ship before you reached the surface outside, gasping for air. “Woah! That was insane!” Lo’ak laughed, high-fiving Spider as Neteyam laughed with them.

“You are such a skxawng, brother!” Neteyam said.

You laughed with them, seeing Tsireya approach you with her ilu out from the corner of your eye. “Come on.”

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Lo’ak looked at you with a smile while Spider and Neteyam grabbed onto the ilu.

You still held a wide smile, until it quickly faded.

A sharp searing pain suddenly burrowed its way into your chest, crawling all over your torso like you were on fire from the inside. Your brows furrowed as you gasp, hand reaching over to your chest, the pressure of your finger touching the wound only adding more fuel to the fire inside of you. “Huh...” You breathed out. Tsireya, Spider, and Neteyam look over to you as what happened finally registered in Lo’ak’s brain as he saw your expression drop.

You were shot.

“Shit!” He exclaimed as he pulls you close towards him, with Neteyam helping out. You could feel them helping you up, but the burning sensation was still there as you didn’t know what was happening. “Keep her up, keep her up!” Lo’ak shouted as you felt yourself being submerged under water then you were raised up to the surface. You glanced up and was met with the ilu as you wrapped your arm around it. You were then finally hoisted upon the ilu, you figured.

You gasped again, feeling the air hit you. “Hold her up!” Lo’ak said as Neteyam pulled you up against him as your head hung low as you tried to focus on breathing. You wanted to breathe, but why was it so painful? You looked up, your vision slowly spinning. Lo’ak goes in front of you, manoeuvring the ilu.

“I got you; I got you, alright (Y/N)?” Lo’ak said, trying to find a shore he can land you on. You held your hand against your chest, retracting to find blood covering your whole palm. Your blood. You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t know what was happening around you and Lo’ak could only try so hard not to panic. The love of his life had just got shot. You had just got shot.

“Dad! Dad! Help! It’s (Y/N)!” Lo’ak screamed at his father. Jake hurried over as Neteyam carefully held you with Lo’ak. “It’s (Y/N), she’s hurt. Dad-“ Lo’ak explained.

You gasped and gasped, coughing as more blood seeped out from your wound. Then you found yourself being laid down, somewhere. You didn’t know. You looked to the side and saw Lo’ak.

“Lo’ak…” You gasped out. “(Y/N), (Y/N) stay still alright? We’ve got you, I’m here.” Lo’ak looked panic-stricken, Neteyam looked at his brother when Jake turned you to your side, then both Jake and Neteyam’s eyes spot the continuous blood leaking down from the exit wound on your back as you coughed out.

Jake turns you back, a knowing look on his face as he and Neteyam glanced at each other. Jake then looks at his youngest son. “Pressure, pressure! Keep pressure on it!” Jake said, placing Lo’ak’s hand on your gunshot wound. Jake seeing you in this state felt like he was losing a child of his own as your young eyes glanced everywhere.

Lo’ak pressed his hands further down your chest, making you scream out, but all that came out was sharp gasps as you tried to pry his hands away, it was too painful. You couldn’t take it. “N- No, s-stop. Stop it- p-please.” You gasp out. “No, no (Y/N). We have to keep this on here, alright, kid? Yeah? Stay with us.” Jake said. Lo’ak’s heart pounded in his chest and in his ears. It was deafening as he looks at you.

Neytiri then arrives, seeing the scene in front of her makes her rush towards you. “(Y/N)…(Y/N)!” Neytiri shouted. Neteyam looks at his mother then at you. “She- she’s been shot.” Neteyam explained.

Your chest heaved with every pressure Lo’ak kept on you, you were gripping onto his arm with the strength you have left, but it feels like every ounce of your energy was being pulled out of you.

Lo’ak’s other hand goes up to your cheek as he gulps down the lump in his throat. “(Y/N), look at me… look at me, please.” Lo’ak begged and you followed him, looking at him, your mouth agape as you still tried to catch your breath. “I- I-“ You gasp, frowning as the pain was beginning to become unbearable.

You glanced around to find yourself surrounded by the Sully family, including Tsireya, who was sobbing.

“Lo’ak, I- I don’t know what’s happening… what’s happening?” You asked urgently, tears rolling down the side of your face as you are looking around you, soon training your eyes on Lo’ak.

“W-w- what’s happening, Lo’ak?”

“Hey, hey, you’re fine, we’re going to get you some help, baby, okay? Stay with me, please, just- just keep your eyes open for me, don’t sleep, don’t sleep.” Lo’ak said, stroking your cheek. Neteyam rubbed at your arm as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

You nodded, trying to keep your eyes open for Lo’ak. For him. You could make it, for him. You were going to make it for him. You will try.

You gasp, forcing a smile your face as you reached your hand up to Lo’ak’s cheek, him instinctively leaning into your touch, Neteyam’s hands replacing the pressure on your chest as Lo’ak held your hand in his as he finally sobbed, voice breaking.

“Lo’ak..look- look at me.” You gasp out loud. Lo’ak shakes his head no. “No, no…” Lo’ak closes his eyes, afraid to open them to find you laying there, with your blood coating his hands. You look at the others, who were trying their best to keep you alive, then back at Lo’ak as you feared you were running out of the energy you had left. “Look at me..” You managed to speak calmly, finally making Lo’ak look at you, rubbing his eyes so he could see you clearly.

“G-good person, okay?” You start, your hands moving to his hands to grasp his pinky. “You are a good person… d-don’t forget.” You smile at him through blurred vision. You then coughed, still trying to catch your breath as you could taste your blood accumulating in your throat, making your words gargled. You push through as blood seeped out from the corner of your mouth due to you facing him. Then with the last bit of energy you had left, you spoke your last words as you had finally made peace with what was about to happen.

“I-I see you, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak’s heart drops as your hand fell limp on his, your eyes who stared back at him slowly became distant as the life had been drained from you along with your smile. Lo’ak then had a blank look on his face as he started to shake his head, using his hands to cup your cheeks, wiping the blood away on your lip using his thumb.

“No... Hey.. (Y/N)… don’t do this to me (Y/N)… (Y/N)! Don’t do this to me, come on please, hey.” Lo’ak shouted, now trying to shake you awake as your hand fell limp beside you. “No no, wake up, wake up, wake up.” Lo’ak said, trying to shake you awake again before grabbing your hand and placing it against his chest.

“Wake up.” He whispers, squeezing your hand, yet you didn’t squeeze back. Jake stared at you, then at his son as his heart felt like it was being torn apart. Neytiri had stared before she cried out a scream of agony, clinging against Jake.

Neteyam looked at your lifeless form. He slowly retrieved his hands from your chest, looking at them, palms smeared with your blood. He frowns, dropping and leaning against his dad as he allowed himself to silently cry for you. Tsireya shakes her head, holding onto your legs, trying to shake them, hoping that you would still respond as sobs wracked her body. Spider stared at you, gulping as his tears still came out, feeling sorry for his brother.

Lo’ak looks up at the sky, almost wanting to curse every being that took you from him. You didn’t deserve this. Lo’ak fights with himself to look at you once more. His eyes meeting your face, pale and blank. Lo’ak shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, I’m sorry. I’m so-“ Sobs were ripped out from him as he cried onto you, lifting your limp body up his arms as he hugged you. All he felt was your lifeless form, as he was taken back to the times you’d respond with hugging him back.

Lo’ak swallows down another lump down his throat as he shakily presses a kiss towards your forehead.

He had lost you, his life. The one who truly understood him. The one who eased his worry and pain ever since he could remember, now being the one who caused it tenfold. He wanted to scream, he wanted to go berserk.

Lo’ak still hugged your lifeless body against his, forehead leaned against your cheek as he muttered apologies.

“I’m sorry.”

#lo'ak #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x reader #avatar lo'ak #lo'ak x you #lo'ak sully x reader #lo'ak sully #lo'ak sully x you #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak imagines #lo'ak fic #lo'ak angst #atwow lo'ak #loak imagine #avatar loak #loak x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water fanfiction #avatar way of water #atwow #the way of water #avatar the way of water imagines #avatar the way of water spoilers #avatar x reader #𝐲𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ❁

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idea I've had for highschool sweetheart to make könih further rot in guilt because it's silly and amusing that I simply had to share <3

In cliques of the nature of his bullies there are always the internal dynamics people outside don't see. Like how one person is never felt true compliments, only back handed ones if not just straight up insults. Fed lies about how no one else would ever be friends with them, the punching bag of within the clique to keep the glue of the group strong and firm. Naturally it would have been the shyest and most bookish person within the group. But you've known these people your entire life they didn't always act like this they used to be kind and good. (right? they, they were kind once right?) so day dreams become an escape because how could anyone be friends with you? How could anyone tolerate you? Especially after you were around the clique, how could you ever approach the quiet boy who you knew they picked on. He must hate you. You longed to be friends (don't delude yourself you didn't wish to be friends you wished to be lovers but start small right). How could you ever approach him. And then graduation comes and you're abandoned. You can heal and begin to find your personhood. You can pick the shattered pieces of your confidence up off the floor and glue your life back together. It takes years but eventually you gather up the courage to reach out to the boy after he misses the reunion. You want to apologize for your passivity at least. You must after all. (You were children and both victims in your own right but how could this ever be spoken of? You must play the role of the bystander because who would ever believe otherwise? You may have healed but there are still cracks of course.) and much later maybe he learns all this, maybe he reads it in a journal or a letter addressed to him, maybe you finally get the courage to tell him. And the guilt and rot grows like fungus over his heart, eating his anger alive and churning out something like grief in return. Not that you'd noticed the anger, you just saw the second chance, of course he would be wary of you, of course he would have changed over the decade, but a decade of growth was only done on the foundation of the boy you loved before. How could you not love the man he's become now?

tee hee I'm going insane I hope you enjoy my little ramble

Yes yes yes the delicious reveal of how it was for her, that she wasn’t having a happy time in the clique, that she, too, was suffering! ❤️‍🩹

In my opinion König would eventually come to his senses. If we’re treating this scenario with actual seriousness, he would eventually see that what he’s doing is useless and stupid and hurtful and unjust to both of them. I mean he’s clinically insane, he’s nasty and troubled and traumatized and works for a fucking PMC and tortures people but... he’s not rotten to the core. König is like a stray dog that bites if it feels like it’s about to get cornered and beaten again, and that’s his viewpoint with high school sweetheart actually. It may sound silly and misplaced but he’s just too triggered to see that he’s about to do a royal fuck-up with her.

And the unbearable shame when he realizes? When he faces the thing he has become? It’s simply too much to bear, he has worked so hard on himself & to put that shit behind him, he’s built confidence from scratch, he’s built actual, physical muscle just to feel better about himself, he probably joined the military because it was his middle finger to the world. Yes, he had aspirations and actual passions concerning the sniper dream but he’s also driven by this need to prove a shitload of people wrong.

And in walks this babe who reminds him of a time when he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. How do you love that? Because ultimately, it means you have to love yourself and who you were before you became the incredible Austrian Hulk. At the core of it is a 6 feet deep insecurity because König doesn’t feel he’s worthy of her at all.

I think the only thing that would cleanse his heart from pain is the revelation that she suffered too. As sad as it is, that’s what makes his heart crack open because then he gets to play the savior. But then comes the “Do you still love me even if I almost turned into the monster I always battled against” part… Because König would pay her authenticity "generously" by revealing the bully he almost became. And I think that’s when high school sweetheart really needs to ask herself if she’s up for this kind of shit, if she’s actually ready to love this man who isn’t as cool and tough as she thought he was, who is deeply flawed and resentful and childish and cruel.

Part of her probably knows that already and even loves his flaws, but loving König is like loving that stray dog. He’s gonna bring fleas and dried-up mud into your house eventually. Especially if you feed him and give him a scratch… Put a nice, cosy bed for him by the fire... Tell him he's cute when he whines next to your bed... Teach him it’s ok to prefer to sleep with you instead :/

#he's a problem/rescue dog #character study stuff #könig x highschool sweetheart

[spectres-n-soap]

A Soft Breeze - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Therapy, pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, angst with comfort

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Why do you lash out at others?” Dr. Miller asks. The session had been going relatively normal, he had started out with the usual base questions he did every time.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing my best.”

“How’s the pregnancy?”

“Healthy for the most part.”

And it felt he was coming out of left field with that question. It must have been obvious how much of a divergence from the norm it was because he tries to back track but you stop him.

“It's easy.” You admit. Admission feels like poison or acid, eating up at you now that you’ve spoken it to life. It was easy, it is easy, to lash out at those around you then to confront the source. You scream and yell, throw things and break down instead of admitting the truth that no one deserves your anger. No one deserves the grief that eats you up and that you refuse to acknowledge until now. “It’s easy to lash out at others then take a moment to reflect.”

“Do you feel bad afterwards?” He asks as he writes down something of note and you cringe a little. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of things wrong with you. That’s what you’ve concluded that means, that whenever he writes something down after you say something, that it's another thing wrong with you. You won’t dare to ask him if it's true; he’ll probably lie about it for propriety.

“Yes.” You still beat yourself up over the baby shower and every time you’ve yelled at Simon. “I feel awful afterwards because I know they didn’t deserve it.”

“So why do you take it out on Simon specifically?” Dr. Miller asks and you stiffen. What a loaded question, you thought. “Just off the top of your head, why?”

“Because it feels like he’s trying to replace him.” You say, throat becoming tight at the thought, horrible and malicious. “And I know that he isn’t and that it's not right for me to think like that.” Dr. Miller takes notes, his hand moving quickly over the lined paper in front of him as you speak and it takes everything in you not to stop or call him out on it. “It should be Johnny here. Not him.”

“You know that Johnny is dead.”

“Yes I know he’s dead.” You snap, “I know he is, alright? But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he wasn’t.” You put your face into the palms of your hands and sigh. “I’m a terrible person.” You whisper.

“No, you’re just a person.” Dr. Miller says, “There is no such thing as a good or bad person, just people who do good and bad things. Sometimes more of one than the other.” He sets down his clipboard and leans forward, “It's good that you are able to find what the reason is, now we just have to work on finding ways of expressing those feelings without hurting those around us.” You nod slowly.

Simon is waiting for you in the parking lot, a surprise for you. “Hey, I was thinking we could eat out tonight, to celebrate another therapy session.” You scrunch your face up and before you can retort anything he says, “Just accept the free food.” You truly cannot debate with that logic or offer and you get into the vehicle with him.

It’s not a fancy restaurant but to be honest, you might’ve tried to strangle him if he had. Just a simple sandwich place, the food is good and the restaurant surprisingly serves other things than just sandwiches and drinks. You opt for an italian sandwich and some tomato bisque on the side with crackers. 

The silence between the two of you is natural, especially as you eat and therefore become unable to speak without being rude. The restaurant isn’t bustling with tons of other people, in fact it's rather quiet for the time of day. You think it's because of the fact it's Wednesday. “I’m sorry.” You say after finishing your soup.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” He asks and your cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry for being awful to you all the time.” You say, “It's not okay for me to treat you like that and I don’t know why you stuck around after everything.”

“Because you’re Johnny’s bird.” He says, “I’m doing right by him, I’m making sure the person he cared for and the baby he never knew existed are safe.” He states and you shake your head.

“I don’t get it.” You mutter and he chuckles softly, the sound warms your belly more than the soup did.

“You don’t have to.”

You get a call from Mrs. MacTavish the next day, “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not feeling prepared for motherhood and I did some looking.” You vaguely hear some mouse clicking and she starts again, “I’m gonna send you some links to places holding parenting classes.” You glance at your phone and see the links copy and pasted into the text chat. “You should attend them, I think they would be very useful. Have a good rest of your day dear.” You say your goodbyes and tap on one of the links.

Just as Mrs. MacTavish said, it is for a place holding parenting classes throughout the week, you look at the next available one and feel your heart rate pick up. Two days from now, it will be held at a nearby library in the afternoon. Simon glances over your shoulder and asks, “Thinking about going?”

“It would be smart for me to go.”

“But do you want to?” He asks as he sets down his dirty mug into the sink to wash later. He leans against the counter and you shrug.

“Wouldn’t hurt to go, just to see if I like it.” Your thumb hovers over the register link before you finally tap it and send in your information. Putting down just how far along you are in your pregnancy feels surreal. Seven months along and nearly at your eighth. How did the time pass by so quickly? 

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #thoyh #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x you

[hypnoneghoul]

i was thinking about alpha a few days ago so heres some words that arent really like a fic but not just a ramble either. a bit angsty character study kinda thing with hc lore drop ig???

Alpha is a bad person.

If such words were said to most of the Abbey, they would be agreed with. Only one person would frown and argue.

Why?

Alpha does not know.

“I don’t even remember how it started,” he says, breathing the words into his mate’s shoulder. It is true, he does not remember. Long years had he been on Earth and for more than half of those years he had never once acted rude, unjust or…evil. Until.

“Don’t worry about it, wildfire,” Omega mutters. He wishes it was simple enough to get fixed by his words alone. “It’s just humans, you know how they are. Nothing’s as quick to judge as them.”

“I know.” He does not, in fact, know. He could never understand it, the way he had done nothing and yet was so quickly painted in all the dark colors. “But…why me?”

Omega does not answer.

But it is true now.

What Alpha is, is quiet, reserved, stoic. He does not initiate contact with strangers unless necessary. He keeps to himself and his mate, he always has. He has always been like that, but humans took his reservedness as hostility towards their kind.

It was not true...then.

All the rumors that kept spreading throughout the Abbey over the years—that Alpha is a truly evil demon, that he hurts people both mentally and physically, that he murders humans for enjoyment and eats them as dessert, that he is the embodiment of anger and just evil—got to the fire ghoul. Contrary to a popular belief, he is (or rather used to be) a soft soul, easily hurt.

It kept hurting and breaking him. Omega kept putting him back together—always, never faltering, never giving up—until all the millions of pieces of his mate were just too fragile to hold together anymore. No matter how tightly Omega held him.

One day, all the kindness for the world and people in it that Alpha still had in him vanished in a blink of an eye. All that remained intact was that little part of his heart that was his mate’s. It would always belong to him.

The rumors became reality.

He had never before hurt anyone or destroyed anything on purpose. It was the evening of sending his and Omega’s pack back to the Pit. Per their own request, but the fire ghoul was heartbroken anyway.

It was his grief, not anger, that had set the Abbey on fire.

That fire is, to this day, one of the biggest that the Ministry had seen over the centuries. And it had seen a lot.

There weren’t many casualties, barely a handful, but there’s nothing Alpha hates himself more for than that fire. He had killed innocent people. He was the monster they have always seen him as.

The news that it was Alpha’s doing spread nearly as quickly as the fire itself. Due to the magic casted upon the Abbey, the damage was brief and that’s why life in the Ministry had returned to normal surprisingly fast.

Since then the fire ghoul felt deserving of all the humans’ cruel words and they had only grown in intensity. Anyone who still had not been sure, who had doubted the rumors, considered the fire to be the confirmation.

Alpha kept breaking and breaking and falling further and further down into the well of self-hatred built by humans who, many years ago, were too quick to judge.

Now he really is all the things people always mistaken him for, their words finally having become true. He is the big, bad ghoul that everyone sees him as. Except for when he is with Omega, but the quintessence ghoul, too, feels like Alpha is slipping from his hands.

So…

Is Alpha a bad person?

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #alpha ghoul

[mari-lair]

I want to talk about Killua and Gon's separation.

There is a lot to untangle so let's start with Killua's mentality after the Chimera Ant Arc.

Killua is aware of how much Gon hurt him, and he understands that even if Gon's bond and dept with Kite is not something he can relate to, this pain isn't something he can brush off either, yet, he comclude his self-reflection by calling his dilemma a burden.

This need to be valued by Gon is what made him take things personally and feel useless during their invasion.

Regardless of his own feelings and issues, Killua blames himself for not sucking up and staying there with Gon. He has for a while... Take note of how horrified he looks after Palm tells him he is the one Gon needs the most.

Any possible joy he could have gotten from being important was far too small compared to the crushing realization 'Gon needs me and I left him alone while he was suffering.'

But Killua is hurting for himself too, at how he was put in a situation where everything felt out of his control.

That makes him angry.

When yelling at Gon about how reckless and selfish he is, Killua thinks to himself "apologies...?" as a question, a question that comes right after thinking "this time I won't forgive you'', like he is trying to find an answer to how he is feeling.

He doesn't really know what he wants from Gon, how or even where to direct his anger.

But he does know what he wants from himself.

'I will definitively make you better.'

It makes his declaration feel more like a "you will be alive to apologize. You will be here when I figure it out" the apology itself isn't nearly as important.

Because his recovery is so important, Killua doesn't allow himself to think too hard about it. He can't get emotional and make mistakes again, he needs to be level headed and get things done.

Even if the ever-present fear that he will be too late to save Gon is there.

He was too late once after all.

Killua immediately loses his calm when there are no hospital curtains or glass windows between them.

Even with Nanika by his side to give him strength, he is tense from the moment he reaches for Gon's hand. It breaks him to witness exactly how bad Gon state has become.

Translations vary but the sense of urgency is prevalent, even with his mission accomplished, his wish a touch away, he shows zero relief, he acts like he is too late again, desperate to help him.

There is no 'Gon is invincible. He heals super fast from everything.' mentality anymore, and even the hope he has been clinging to that 'Nanika is amazing, she can heal Gon' gets destroyed.

Is just him and the brutal reminder Gon can fall.

So when Gon gets up, against all odds, Killua is happy. The joy is stronger than his grief.

He downplays his worry, and keeps it casual, when he tells Gon to watch out for himself, but he is genuinely happy when Gon thanks him.

That's what I believe Killua really wanted from the start, not an apology but a thank you. It always hit him hard when Gon thanks him, be it when Killua is happy, or at his lowest:

Killua just didn't believe he deserved a "thank you", not after being put far too many responsibilities on himself and drowning in failures. But now, things are okay.

For as difficult as Killua's life is, he does like to focus on the good, so when he talks to Gon, who is alive and no longer blinded by grief, while being able to hold on to his little sister's hand, who is happy and free, he has no regrets, it was no problem. He would do it again and again and again for them, and Gon showing appreciation of what he has done is the cherry on top.

Killua doesn't really care about the apology anymore, because he already understands Gon didn't want to hurt him, he has been by Gon's side for years, and he knows better than anyone that Gon is a kind boy who loves his friends very much, and is far too harsh on himself.

So Killua acknowledges his pain but he keeps it light-hearted and brief. He doesn't want his best friend to focus on this, as Gon is prone to, so after Gon gets on his knees to apologize, Killua thanks him.

Which is something Killua rarely does, most of his thank yous are either casual or in monologues Gon isn't privy to. But he want to focus on the good he gained, on how his adventures and feelings for Gon are what let him take the needle out and go to Alluka's rescue instead of how he learned to fear loss.

He believes Gon is just as important to Alluka's rescue as Alluka was to his recovery. And he acknowledged Gon's issues but still value him.

So he does what he has always appreciated, and lets Gon know how valuable he is. Hurt or not, he always wants what's best for Gon. To cheer him up, to put his mind at ease.

And now that things have gotten more peaceful, they both decided that's what they focus on, on how valuable the other is. How much they enjoy each other's company and how hard it is to go their separate ways.

Even what Ging says about "What I was I looking for isn't what I ended up valuing" parallels their arrangement.

This is the end of their journey to travel the world in search of Ging, and the Chimera Ant disaster will definitively mark them, but they are still friends, and proud of it!

Which brings me to Killua's "you're number two" claim.

Personally, I do not believe he is being literal or trying to measure their value when he claims his sister is No.1. He just doesn't want to put too much pressure on Gon when he can tell Gon is still beating himself over how he treated Killua.

Palms's "You're the most important person to Gon" speech broke Killua, it crushed him with pressure, and it wasn't even Gon himself saying. Imagine how bad Gon would feel if Killua said "You're my most important person" or showed in any way how highly he holds Gon after the way Gon had snapped at him.

Add in how Gon already feels indebted to Killua, who had witnessed Gon destroy himself over his debt to Kite, and how hard it is for Gon to let Killua go... I can understand why Killua would want to downplay the situation as much as possible. Make it easier on Gon.

I don't want to downplay Alluka's importance to Killua though, she is the main reason they separate, the one that gives Killua confidence to turn his back on Gon despite how sad they look about diverging their paths, and makes Killua keep going.

Killua had nothing he wanted for a while. Now he wants to take Alluka and Nanika to travel the world, and while Gon is amazing and fun, he is also deeply intertwined with danger.

And Killua already has a lot of danger on his hands.

He needs a break from danger. From stress.

He can't protect Alluka and Nanika, while keeping an eye on Gon in their usual adventures. And he can't let himself go wild with Illumi on the hunt.

His priority is to keep Alluka safe and happy. Show her a taste of freedom and all the fun he knows exists out there.

And Killua is emotionally smart too, for as much as he is attached to Gon, I think he does realize they need time away. They will see each other again, they promised.

but right now they are too dependent.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecs #character analysis #killugon #this post is a bit all over the place but once i connected (or at least i think i did) one accidental dot it drove me insane #long post #and that was me trying to keep it short yugyugyu help

[justmeinadaze]

My Little Man (Steddie X You) (Part of HFOD and SS Universe)

A/N: I guess you guys would call this season 3? Lol. My angst hella took over as well as some feelings I've been dealing with lately.

Enjoy please <3.

Part of this Universe

Warnings: Demon Steddie & Human Fem Reader, No SMUT in this one, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. Demon Steddie is navigating how to be human while taking care of a pregnant Y/N.

ANGST: More or less the normal level of angst that comes with this series. The theme is grief and PTSD (from a soldiers perspective). Y/N is still struggling with the notion of her parents not being there to see Ellis grow up and the guys (especially Steve) is struggling with being raised how they were and taught to fight. Eddie struggles with feelings of enabling because of everything they went through.

The dreams probably have the most feels. They talk to their loved ones and Ellis says goodbye. Steve has nightmares that involve his dad being a dick (of course) and something that happens within one angers Eddie (blood briefly mentioned).

Word Count: 6398

"Don't you know I love you more than life itself Don't you know that you're my pride And I would not have you walking through this world Without me by your side

Go to sleep my little man Don't you weep my little man"

3 Months Pregnant

Steve sits on the bench outside of the library he had just exited from, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

Ever since the three of you got home, he and Eddie had been doing research on which human job they would best be suited for in your realm but were struggling to find much of anything. For him, it was even more difficult since he was raised to be a solider. He genuinely didn’t know how to do anything else and it didn’t help that even though you explained a lot of human behavior, he still felt slightly ignorant with many things. 

“May I sit?” The demon jumped at the sound of a gravelly voice beside him. “Oh, shit. Sorry, son. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s alright. Um, please.”, he gestures towards the area beside him causing the man to flash him a thankful grin as he takes a seat. 

“How long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked how long. I know the look of a fellow veteran trying to figure out how to adapt to a civilian lifestyle. How long has it been since you saw combat?”

“Oh, uh, it’s…it’s been a few years. But I did it the bulk of my life.”

“I can imagine with you being so young. I bet one of your parents was a solider as well?”

“Wow. Yeah, that’s amazing. How did you…?”

“I told you, son. I know the look.”, the man chuckles as he extends his hand. “Truman Duvall; Ex Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army.”

“Steven Harrington. Um, Sergeant in the US Army. Well, Ex.”, Steve laughs nervously as he hopes his memory of things he’s learned about humans in the past is still up to date.

“Nice to meet you. If I may ask, what were you thinking so hard about specifically?”

“My girlfriend is pregnant and I’m trying to find a job so I can help support my family. I want my son to have a better life then I did but I have no idea where to start.”

“Congratulations on the little bundle! I have four myself, two of them grown and out of the house already. My wife pretends like she’s glad they’re out but she misses them.”, he laughs. “I don’t know if you would be willing but down the street here, we have a recreation center where veterans go to relax and let loose. They’ve been looking for a counselor to lead the group therapy. I think you’d be a good fit.”

“Yeah? Um, I guess I could…”

“Look, you don’t even have to make a decision right now. Why don’t meet me there tonight? We’re having a little party get together thing. Of course, you can bring the girlfriend and you both can meet the person in charge. See if you feel comfortable.”

“O-Ok. I, um…” Steve pauses as he debates on if he should tell the truth about Eddie. That was a fight they had when it came to going home. He had been afraid that they would have to hide their relationship and he never wanted to hide or be hidden when it came to the man he loved. But this is also where he wanted to raise his son and he didn’t want to cause a commotion before you four even had a chance to settle in. What would Eddie do?

“Can I bring my boyfriend as well? He’s a veteran to. We actually met during our tour.”

Truman’s mouth pouted out ever so slightly as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Oh, um, sure! The more the merrier.”

***

“Steven, oh my God, that’s amazing!”, you exclaim as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Hang on, now. I don’t have a job yet but…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, bud.”, Eddie grins from his place on the kitchen counter. 

“I hope it’s ok that I kind of…announced…our relationship. We actually didn’t talk about what we wanted to do but I know if we had stayed in our realm I’d want to be honest.”

The long-haired demon opened his arms and Steve promptly placed himself between his legs with his back against his chest while Eddie rested his chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you did. I love you and I’m not hiding that.”

“Me either.”, you smiled as they beamed right back. 

Suddenly, the happiness drains from your face before you turn and bolt towards the bathroom. You three had been home for a couple of months and within the past week some of the normal symptoms of pregnancy began springing up such as the morning sickness you were currently experiencing. 

“It’s alright, baby. Get it all out.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail. As soon as you were finished, you fell back into his arms and thanked Steve when he handed you a bottle of water. 

“This is normal, right? Humans get nauseas like this.”, he asked. 

“Yeah, honey. It’s normal. I’m alright. I think I’m going to take a nap so I can be 100% for tonight.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to go.”

“No, Steve, I want to go. I want to see where you’ll be and the people you’ll be around.”

################

“Steve! You made it.”, Truman shouts excitedly as he reaches out to shake the boy’s hand. “You must be the girlfriend.”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N. What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman and this is your…boyfriend? Right, son?”

“Yes, sir. This is Edward.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Steve said you’re a veteran as well. Were you a sergeant like himself?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was more of a private I guess you’d say. But we spent a lot of time together especially on the battlefield.”

“Wow and for you two to still be so close and find a relationship through all that chaos! That’s amazing. I always tell my wife if she met me during my tour she would have hated me. A lot of civilians don’t understand the headspace you have to fall into to do what we have to do.”

Both demon’s nod in understanding and you can’t help but softly smile as you watch them interact with the other people around them. Steve was definitely in his element and you could tell in some way he felt more comfortable in this setting because he was around beings who seemed to understand what they both went through. As his new friend spoke, his eyes remained intense and focused as he absorbed everything he said. 

Eddie excused himself to grab some drinks but became distracted talking to another couple and began to laugh at something they were saying. The first time you met him he expressed a particular distain for humans but he seemed to open up more since they were freed, finding something interesting in each person he interacted with. 

“Hey, this is my girlfriend Y/N.”, he introduces when you walk over to check on him. “Y/N, this is Lisa and Shawn Bennett. Lisa did a tour in the Air Force flying jets and Shawn was a DJ overseas.”

“Oh wow. For the military or just on your own?”

“For the military. I’m kind of like that Cronauer guy they made the movie about. I read the reports and played music I thought would lift the troops spirits.”, the man explains. 

“Kind of like me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear making you smile. “What do you two do now if I may ask? Steve and I have been searching for employment but we have no idea what would fit us.”

“Well, I actually own a store of my own selling books and comics; things like that. I’m a bit of a nerd.”, Lisa laughs. 

“And I teach media and music courses at the local community college up here.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun actually. Are they looking for another music teacher because Eddie is an amazing musician.”

“Yeah? Unfortunately, they aren’t but you should consider maybe starting your own business as well. You can teach kids to play guitar or any other instruments you know and you can do it from your house or maybe the music store downtown is hiring.”

“Are you looking for a job to, Y/N? I’m trying to hire someone to help me with my shop.”, Lisa offers with a smile. 

“Oh, I’d love that. I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant though and I wouldn’t want to leave you stranded after you just hired me.”

“That’s fantastic! Don’t even worry about it. You don’t seem very far along yet. I can teach you the ropes before you give birth and that way when you come back, you’ll already know what to do!”

As you glance at Eddie, his eyes widen with encouragement as he nods his head. 

“Ok, I’d love to work for you.”

Lisa claps and gives you a big hug as your demon beams behind you.

***

“Hello fellow veterans, spouses, and partners! Glad you could all join us tonight. I hope you are having some much needed fun! I do have just a quick announcement to make. I would like to introduce you to Steven Harrington who is new to Hawkins and after speaking with him I feel like he will be a great addition to our center here as the group counselor.” The man at the podium smiles as he gestures towards the demon and everyone around the room claps. “Steve, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

When he hesitates, you gently push him forward, urging him softly before he relents and nervously climbs up the makeshift stage. 

“Um, hi. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been seen by so many people.” The people chuckle as you and Eddie grin knowingly. “Like Thomas said, I’m, uh, new to Hawkins but my girlfriend is from here and my partner and I thought it would be better for her to be back home where she felt safe with her family so we can start raising our own. I-I-I…shit I used to better at this.”, he chuckles before glancing your way, your gentle smile comforting him. 

“I was raised in a military household. My dad was a solider so that’s what I was expected to be. As soon as I was able, he handed me a weapon and commanded I train to be the best. There was no wiggle room there. It was all or nothing. When I saw war…I shut down and did what I had to. I took no pleasure in killing, contrary to popular belief.”

“The worst part about shutting down that way was how it flowed into my every day. I was as an asshole to everyone including women I dated and people I trained… except for some of the people closest to me…Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie. When Edward and I got out…I felt so out of control…so lost. I lost my identity and everything I knew. If I didn’t have him by my side… Then we met Y/N and without her we literally wouldn’t be here today.”

Steve paused, looking out into the crowd, and realizing he may be talking too much. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you so much for this opportunity and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

The people in the room clap as he steps off the stage and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist as Eddie lightly caresses his cheek. 

***

4 Months Pregnant

You beam at Eddie as he softly strums his instrument. That day after Shawn suggested it, he went down to the music store in town and applied for the job as a guitar instructor. After playing and showing off for them he got the job. He loved hearing the kids try and play reminding him of the children he watched over with Steve during their war. 

Today was everyone’s day off so they were being lazy in bed with you in your pajamas and both demons in nothing but their sweats. 

“Ok, this thing here says for humans you should be feeling him move around now.”, Steve announced as he gestured towards the book he was reading. 

“I haven’t felt him move yet unless the occasional nausea is him saying hello.”, you giggle. Leaning over him, you grab his hand and place it on the middle of your stomach. “Talk to him.”

“Uh, I…hey, Ellis. It’s, um, your daddy. I’m not scaring him with my voice, right?”

“No, baby.”, you grin as you pet his head. “This is how he’ll get used to it though. Hearing and seeing you both in your demon form.”

“Buddy, you have no reason to be afraid of us in any form. I’m sorry your dads aren’t as beautiful as you and your mom but—”

“Hey, speak for yourself.”, Eddie teases making you laugh. “I’m a sexy motherfucker.”

“Oh.”

“What?”, Steve’s eyes shift up excitedly. 

“You didn’t feel that?”

When he shakes his head, you place his hand closer to the side you felt movement, gesturing for the other demon to do the same.

“Say something else.”

“Hey Ellis. This is your other daddy and I assure you we are very handsome.”

“Holy shit.”, Steve exhales as he grins up towards his partner. “That’s amazing.”

“I’m glad you agree, kid.”, Eddie smiles.

***

6 Months Pregnant

Eddie growls at the crib he was trying to assemble as his glowing red eyes glare at the instructions again. Over these past couple of months, you three had made your dad’s old room your bedroom and begun shifting the room you used to sleep in into Ellis’s. 

Going off his personality from your dreams, you painted the room blue with images of guitars along the base boards and up along the ridges of the ceiling. Near where his crib would be, you put up pictures of everyone in his family that loved him including Robin, Wayne, Dustin, and everyone who had passed that he had been conversing with these past six months. 

The boys were able to get everything a baby would need from your realm but also from theirs including those books that Eddie had wrote and some toys demons normally played with at a young age. 

“Whoever invented these contraptions should be tortured for eternity.”, Eddie grunted as he tried again putting a few of the pieces together. 

“You guys don’t have cribs in your realm?” 

“Yeah but they were like boxes essentially. Or at least mine was. I’m sure Steven had gold porcelain or some shit.”

“No.”, Steve chuckled as he took the wrong part from his partner’s hand and handed him the correct one. “I had a regular little wooden thing with soft blankets.”

“I wish I could see what you two were like as kids.”

Since they left Maeve, they weren’t able to snap memories into your head like they were before. It hurt them more than you because you always seemed curious about them and they wished they could show you everything from their point of view, not Henry’s or Mirage’s. 

“How much did Mirage show you?”

“She showed me big events more than anything. Steve always looking for his parents especially your mom. She did play sword fight with you once and you looked so happy until your dad yelled at her for ‘ruining your training’.” You rolled your eyes as Steve pet your head and sighed. “Eddie, I did see what your uncle told me about with your mom singing to you.” The demon’s glow receded in his eyes as he glanced your way with a small smile. 

“Until my father told her to shut up?”

Tilting forward, you crawled over his work to kiss his lips making his smile widen as he caressed your face. 

“What about your parents, honey?”

“Both my parents were amazing. My dad always loved to make us laugh. He liked being a girl dad and my mom exploited that.”, you giggle. “She would make him wear tutus while I would do his makeup and they both would dance.”

A tear left your eyes and both demons promptly gave you their attention. 

“I’m sorry you guys don’t have your parents here. You both deserve better.”

“Baby, it’s ok—”

“Eddie it’s not okay.”

“Will you let me finish?”, he jokes. “It’s ok because I had my mom and I had Wayne. Then as I got older I got my other family. Steven, Robin, Chrissy, and even Dustin. Now, sweetheart, I have you two and Ellis. I couldn’t be happier.”

“I agree. I’m thankful for the memories I do have with my mom but the kids I trained and beings I fought with…that was my family. I’m so excited to see what’s in store for us, you know. See what Ellis is going to do with his life.”

You smiled as you kissed their lips before you wince and lean away. 

“Ow. Little butthead is kicking my side.”

“Hey, kid.”, Eddie teases as he tilts towards your tummy. “Why don’t you stop hurting your mother and come help me make your torture technic of a crib.”

###############

8 months Pregnant

You, Steve, and Eddie walked into the house you three had been in so many times these last few months except now it was completely empty. All the furniture and everything was completely absent as you entered the living room full of people.

“Ellis?”

Everyone in the room moved out of the way to where Eddie’s mom was hugging her grandson to her chest as he sobbed. 

“I don wanna go!”

“You have to, baby. Your mommy and daddies need you now. They’ve been waiting so long to see you.”

“Mom?”, Eddie asked as he stepped towards her. “What’s going on?”

She softly smiled as she handed him to your father who spun him around as he chuckled but your son just buried his face further in his neck. 

“Come on, little guy. Your parents have made you an awesome bedroom and knowing my daughter she’s going to show you so many amazing things.”

The little boy shook his head as your dad kissed his temple before handing him to your mom. 

“Steven, remember, you once told me that everything would be ok and you were right. I’ve watched you both take care of my baby and I assure you, you both are going to be more than ok. You are going to be amazing parents.”

He beamed at him as he wrapped his arms around the demon and pulled him in for a hug. 

Your mother grinned as she reached out to touch your face as you started to cry. 

“I’m scared to do this without you.”, you whisper. 

Your parent’s smiles widen as she kisses her grandson and places him in your arms. 

“We’re not going anywhere. We’re always right here.”, she soothes as she points to Ellis’s forehead. “Right behind that door, honey.”

“I love you.”, you son coos as each grandparent reciprocates his affection. 

As both your demons come to your side, you look down to no longer see a toddler but a newborn baby wiggling in your arms. Steve gently pets his head as Eddie reaches for his tiny hand that immediately clings to his finger. 

All of your eyes shoot open but yours is followed by a grunt as you place your hands on your stomach. 

“Fuck! I think…”

They don’t waste any time as they collect you and your things before rushing towards the hospital. 

***

“How long are they going to keep him back there?”, Eddie growled as he held your hand.

“Calm down. Y/N said this was normal. They need to clean him, check his vitals, and all that.”

“Yeah, but Steven, what if something comes up in those vitals that frightens a human.”

The other demon’s eyes flash red in warning in his direction as a low rumble leaves his chest. 

“Maybe we should have had him in your realm.”, you respond groggily as your heavy eyes shift their way. 

“Baby, don’t let Edward scare you, ok? He’s fine. He’s got more human in him right now than anything. Dustin said he would grow into his demon parts.”

“He also said we’re the first couple ever to do this so…”

“Edward Munson, I swear—“, Steve’s anger was cut short when the door to your hospital room opened and a nurse casually sauntered in.

“Hey Munson-Harrington family.”, she smiles. “We have little Ellis here fast asleep and everything looks good. Mommy, how are you feeling?”

“Like I gave birth.” The nurse laughs at your joke as your demons roll their eyes. “I’m alright. A bit exhausted.”

“Yeah, that’s normal, sweetheart. Good news is your baby is in perfect health. Would you like to meet him?” Your eyes fully open as you sit up, smiling softly when she places him in your arms.  “I’ll come check on you three in a bit.”

Tears start to fall as you fully take him in. Right now, he seemed like a completely normal child with soft skin and just a sliver of brown hair poking out of his blue beanie. 

“Hey, honey. You’re so handsome. I’m your mommy.”, you coo in a whisper as you kiss his forehead. “Oh my god, he smells so good.”, you laugh as you look their way. 

Eddie was the first to step forward, sitting beside you on the bed as he caressed his son’s chubby little cheek with his finger. 

“Holy shit. He’s so soft.”, he breathes. “You’re perfect, kid.”

Steve finally takes a seat as well and reaches out to feel his tiny hand. 

“He’s warm to. Is that normal?” When you nod, he almost breathes a sigh of relief. “Ellis, we’re your daddies. You ARE perfect, oh my god.”

The baby squirms a bit in your hold giving them pause before pulling away. 

“I think that was his way of saying thank you.”, you smile. 

###########

3 Weeks Old

“Fascinating.”, Dustin muses as he rocks Ellis in his arms while swaying around the living room. “He really does look just like a little human with the soft skin and everything. Nothing has stood out?”

“Can you stop analyzing our baby and just enjoy him?”, Eddie snaps as he sighs. 

“No, nothing.”, you giggle, answering his question. “And so far he seems to eat but not as much as normal babies.”

“How so?”

“Babies are supposed to eat every two hours; we’ve been feeding him every six. I was worried at first but we just took him the doctor and she said he was healthy. When I tried to give him a bottle every two he would cry and push at my hands.”

“Interesting. That has to be hard, Y/N. Him not being able to verbally tell you things like that. I hated when my kids cried in general but you…you still have that whole trial and error thing going.”

Glancing towards your demons, Eddie had fallen asleep with his head nestled in Steve’s lap on the couch who was already napping when Dustin arrived. 

“It is. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us though and I know they do to. I’ve been keeping a record like you suggested should this ever happen for anyone else.”

“Good.” When he notices your gaze shift again, he takes a seat on the floor beside you and lays Ellis on the blanket between you both. “Everything ok with you three?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little worried. They were both already so protective over me and now that he’s here… Steve’s been having nightmares. He pretends he doesn’t but I hear him groaning in his sleep and feel him wake up. I asked him the other night if he still has access to my dreams and he said he can’t find the door anymore.”

A tear fell down your check as Dustin reached out to comfort you. 

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Eddie’s attitude has been a lot shorter lately. He’s exhausted and worried about the three of us. He triple checks everything to the point that I find him asleep on the floor by Ellis’s crib because he’s too tired to make it back to our bed and would just rather be closer to his son just in case.”

“What about you? Besides the worry I mean.”

“I know I’m probably being paranoid but sometimes I feel like we’re being watched. It may just be because of our dynamic. I know not everyone is excepting like the new friends we’ve made but no one has said anything… I don’t know. Just…mom brain maybe.”

“Hm, maybe. Keep an eye on that. From what you’ve told me, you’re always pretty intuitive. Wouldn’t want to miss something you know?”

#########

5 Weeks Old

“Oh my god, Y/N, look at him.”, Lisa coos at Ellis as she holds him in her arms. 

“Are you alright, Steve? You look like you haven’t slept.”, Shawn chuckles. 

“Yeah, I’m doing alright. Just…little guy keeping me up.”, he forces a smile. 

Your friends were having a get together for veterans and their families and since Steve worked at the center you suggested you three should go and be seen. Truthfully, you thought it would be good for them both to get out of the house as well as having him specifically spend some time with his new veteran friends to talk about anything that may be weighing on his mind causing his nightmares.

As the night wore on you noticed their soft grins return to their faces as he and Eddie mingled with the people around them. They radiated warmth as they talked about their son and everything he had done with his short little life so far.

“Have you guys started baby proofing yet? I swear when my daughter started crawling it was like she knew which areas were the bad ones!”

“Oh no, not yet. He did smile at Y/N the other day. Ellis has a beautiful little grin.”, Steve boasts.

“At that age usually it’s just reflexive. They see you guys smiling so…”

“Isn’t that all babies though? Like that’s how they learn?”, Eddie genuinely asks as the dads around him laugh. 

“Yeah but who knows some babies are different! You may just have an extremely happy baby who couldn’t wait to show you guys how much he loves being here.”

Time passed and a few of the guests left, leaving the main few that you had really gotten to know. You all sat in the living room while Eddie patted his son’s back as Ellis slept soundly. Steve tenderly petted the baby’s head as you beamed at them from your place in the chair across from them. 

“So how has everything else been going?”, Thomas asks as he chugs back some of the beer in his bottle. 

“Everything has been good, man. Just focusing on them, ya know?”

“Yeah, I understand. When my son was born, that first night I checked on him every hour on the hour. Then for some reason I kept checking on my wife. I knew our son needed us both and I kept thinking ‘What if something happened to either of us?’”

“I can understand that. I, uh, before Y/N and Steve, I lost a lot of people I loved and there was nothing I could do. Now that Ellis is here…it would kill me if anything ever happened to him.”

“Do you have nightmares about it? About losing them?”

“I don’t but Stevie here does.”, Eddie answers causing Steve to toss a glare his way. 

“I do but it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“I had them to. Sometimes I would dream they were on the battlefield I fought in. I would run to them but I could never quite reach them.”, Thomas sighs at the memory. “What do you dream about?”

“It’s fine really.”

You’re not sure if anyone else heard but you and Eddie did as the demon’s voice fluctuated to his real one for a split second.

“Steven…”

“It’s ok, Y/N. Like I said, I get it. If you talk about it, it gives it validity right? You’d hate to manifest something like that into existence. Someone killing Y/N and your son.”

Steve’s eyes closed as his head ticked to the side. 

“Ok, Tom, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’m putting my foot down. You’re going to push him too far and he’s already got enough on his mind.”, Eddie defended rising to his feet and handing you the baby. 

“Ah, you’re the enabler I imagine. You allow him to shelter his feelings so he doesn’t have to deal with them.”

“You’re damn right I do. You humans have no idea what we’ve been through!”

“Interesting word choice. Is that how you separate people from your experiences?”

“Come on, guys, let’s head home.” As the long-haired demon grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, he remained frozen in place. Kneeling in front of him, he cupped his face in his hands. “Steven, it’s ok alright. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Let’s go home and get some sleep, huh?”

When the demon finally opened his eyes, Eddie’s widen in fear; he knew this look all too well. As subtly as he could, he got to his feet and towards the front door with you trailing after him. 

“Steven—”

Once the wind of the outside hit your faces, he expanded his wings, cutting you off as he vanished into the air.

***

“Edward, baby, are you ok?”

Eddie nodded from his place on the floor next Ellis who was sleeping soundly beside him. After laying down as well, he softly smiles your way as he continues caressing the baby’s open hand. 

“DO I enable him, Y/N?”

“Eddie…”

“I just…we went through so much… Every day I had to watch the man I love breakdown. Even when we were out, summoners never treated us with any kind of respect. They knew we wouldn’t be there for long. In our realm, he was hero and with one choice, he was banished and imprisoned…because of me.”

“No, Eddie. Everything you two went through was because of Henry. He killed Chrissy and framed you. Jason didn’t give Steve much of a choice. He was going to disobey orders and hurt you.”

“I always tried to make it up to him… I tried not to show my feelings, pretending I didn’t care we were trapped. Pretending I wasn’t scared and just as angry as he was. I’ve done that my whole life, Y/N. When my mom got sick, I did everything I could to make her laugh so she wouldn’t see how devastated I was. Every time my father came home upset, I acted like I was tough but I was fucking terrified, baby. I was so scared.”

A tear fell from his eye and your immediately wiped it away with your thumb.

“When he fled, I was afraid for my uncle. I didn’t even think twice when I signed up but I was positive I wouldn’t last a month out there on the battlefield. Steven and Robin helped me become a better fighter. With Chris I pretended to be more together than I was. She had enough on her plate at the time and I wanted her to feel safe.”

“It seems like that’s why you pretend, Eddie, so the people you love feel safe.”

Sitting up, he started to cry harder and you immediately crawled to him, curling up in his lap as you held him in your arms. 

The sound you recognized as a portal opening grabbed both your attention as you called Steve’s name.

“Hey, no, sorry. It’s just me. I have him here though.”, Robin answered as she came around the corner with the demon leaning half-conscious around her shoulders. “My girlfriend sent me a message saying he was there at the bar. He had been babbling about how human drinks aren’t strong enough and something about you two and Ellis.”

After leading her to the bedroom, she gently placed Steve onto the mattress. When Eddie entered the room, she smiled when she saw your son’s wide eyes looking back at her.

“He woke up.”, the demon announced as Ellis yawned to emphasis his point. 

“You need to let your parents get some rest, booger.”, Robin coos as she pokes his nose making him smile. 

“Some of our friends said for human babies around this time smiles like that are a reflex.”

“Yeah but he’s not entirely human and that beautiful, drool filled grin didn’t seem reflexive.”, she responded. “It seems like he can handle the demon skin since he’s letting us touch him.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the potion.”, you nod as you reach out to tickle the baby’s chin. “Thank you for bringing Steve back, Robin.”

Softly smiling, she leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Seriously, you and Ellis are so soft—”

“Ay yi, ma’am. This human is ours.”, Eddie playfully scolds as he swats his hand in her direction. 

***

Loud banging and clinking echoes behind the door you’re looking at as smoke occasionally slips through the seams. Taking a long exhale, you reach for the handle but someone tapping your shoulder startles you as you turn and smack the person’s face. 

“Ow! Jesus woman. How many times are you going to pop me?!”, Eddie whines as he rubs his cheek. 

“Edward, how did you—”

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for the door for months. Maybe you finally calmed me down enough to know what I’m looking for.” Nodding, you kiss his lips. “So what’s the plan?”

“I think…this is Steve’s door. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to access his dreams but I haven’t been able to.”

Holding your hand, he carefully turns the knob and you both step through. Glancing down at his attire, Eddie realizes he’s suddenly in his old battle armor and you both are on the battlefield they fought on all those centuries ago. 

“Why am I not in armor?”

“I mean, you weren’t there, baby.”

“What the fuck are you two doing here?!”, Steve’s father shrieks above you as he lands on his feet. “Leave. NOW. My son needs to learn his lesson.”

“YOU’VE been giving him his nightmares?”, you growl.

“Not exactly. He started having them on his own but I’ve been fueling them.”

Shifting your gaze behind him, you both watch as Steve slaughters enemy after enemy, panting as he slowly tires himself out.

“Steven! Do better! You think these fuckers are going to show mercy on your son?! You have to do what I taught you to get the truth!”

Eddie gripped Bill’s throat and angrily threw him to the ground. 

“You made your hell his hell, you fucking asshole. He told me all about you and everything you did to him. You ruined his life enough! Leave him be.”

“Please. He’s doing this to himself. He’s worried about you two peasants and that thing. I’m making him better. Stronger.”

Grabbing a sword from the ground, you lift the handle and point the other end towards his throat. 

“You heard him. Leave Steven alone or else I swear to God, Bill, I will find a way myself to keep you in hell.”

Growling under his breath, he tried to stand but you and Eddie forced him back down with your weapons. Huffing he suddenly disappeared as well as every other solider that had fallen around the other demon. 

“Ed-Edward?”, Steve panted heavily when you noticed you both there. “Y/N? What are you…? It doesn’t matter. We need to get to Ellis or else Henry’s going to kill him. We have to—”

“Baby, look at me.”, Eddie tried to soothe as he cupped his cheeks in his hands. “You’re dreaming ok? Henry is gone and Ellis is in his crib fast asleep.”

“N-No. No? I can hear him. I can hear him crying! Can’t you hear that?!”

“Steven—”

“NO!”, the demon growls loudly as he shoves the man he loves hard backwards. “Who are you?! You’re not Edward. Y-You’re…You’re trying to trick me. Are you Mirage? Did Henry and his dad hire you to stop me?!”

“Steven…”, Eddie cried with worry as he threw the sword he was holding to the ground and held up his hands. “Sweetheart, please, it’s me. I promise. I would never hurt you like that. I would never keep you from our son.”

As he tried to step forward, the other demon shoved him to the ground.

“I-I-I need to get to my son.”, Steve sobbed as his voice cracked. “I know you’re not Eddie. Tell me where he is.”

When he didn’t answer, he pulled back and pushed his weapon downward. 

The sound of your grunt filled their ears as your eyes met Steve’s wide glassy ones. When you both looked down, blood drenched his sword where it had pushed through your stomach and around your back. 

“Baby?”

Looking up at him again, you smiled through the pain as blood dripped from your lips. 

“Why…why does it hurt?”

The three of you opened your eyes at the same time as you sat up clutching your stomach. Lifting up your shirt, there was no wound but it felt so real. You could still feel the stinging pain lingering on your skin. 

Eddie’s head slowly turned meeting Steve’s still shocked expression as is mouth hung open in shock. 

“I—”

The long-haired demon’s growl cut him off as his eyes glowed bright red. 

“Take us to another realm that we can fucking damage NOW.” You didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet with his head hung preparing a portal for them to go through. “Stay here.”

Coming around the bed, he waited for the other demon to finish as you peeked into the world they’d be going to. It was completely baron with nothing but white as far as the eye can see. 

“Fitting.”, Eddie responded in anger as he and the other demon walked inside. 

As the portal began to close, you quickly got up and jumped through right as it disappeared. 

You knew Eddie may be mad but after what happened this wasn’t something you were going to let them handle alone. 

##############

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[luvfy0dor]

Omg can I request like a teen reader reaction to fyodors death and how it would play out if they randomly saw dazai in the street after the whole thing?

“You're Not Gone, You Can't Be Gone, No ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; MASSIVE BSD spoilers, death, 5 stages of grief, 1 mention of kidnapping (doesn't happen), cursing

Description; You feel as though you'll never recover from your father's death, especially since he had recently promised that he would be home soon via the vampires. Seeing his rival and murderer in the streets afterwards doesn't help either, even if you've started to come to terms.

A/n; I genuinely don't believe he's dead, there is absolutely NO way. There is nothing that could convince me he's actually dead, not a corpse, not a tombstone, idc, he's alive and Nikolais ability saved him, source: trust me bro

When you had first received word about your father dying from Nikolai, you felt like you were going to die along with him. Your heart had been cracking up with anxiety when he seemingly took his sweet time to return home, and it shattered when you heard. Everything was going as planned up until the very end, when you waited day in and day out for your dad, and he never came back and never would. You were in denial for a while, but it slowly sank in when Nikolai had taken you to live with him. He wasn't around constantly, usually out figuring out what to do with himself, but he watched over you. You loved Nikolai, he was like an uncle to you, but he just wasn't Fyodor. You almost hated yourself for the way your voice became laced with venom and loathing any time he tried to do anything remotely fatherly for you, but you couldn't help it for the first two months. It was too painful to evoke memories of your dad, so you just angrily pushed any reminders away. That being said, you refused to get rid of any of his belongings. His ushanka lived on your nightstand and his cape on a hook on your door, and if you had rejected religion before, you started to embrace it to try and bring yourself closer to him, even in the afterlife.

After experiencing the denial, anger, bargaining and depression, the acceptance came. The thought of him still hurt you, but you were able to go on with your day without feeling paralyzed by your devastation. You didn't mind Nikolai doing fatherly things for you anymore. You didn't decline his offers to play card games or chess anymore. Chess was harder to come around to than card games were, but nonetheless you did it. It honestly felt victorious. You were able to look at the urn that held the ashes from Fyodors arm without wanting to throw up and instead smiled and spoke mindlessly to it about your day, even if you felt a little silly doing it. It helped you cope with the loss of the most important figure in your life, so you didn't see a reason to stop.

A couple months after his death, you spoke to the urn while you got ready for the day. You wanted to go to a bookstore a couple blocks away, so you decided to get up and walk there. You grabbed your belt and shoved it through the loopholes of your pants roughly. "My favorite author put out a new book recently and I wanna go get it today. Maybe afterwards I'll go to the cafe nearby, thoughts?" You asked the urn, receiving a deafening silence. "Great, I'll be sure to follow your advice." You huffed. After putting on and tying your shoes, you grabbed the tote bag that was hanging of your door handle and slung it over your shoulder, exiting your bedroom. You walked through the hall and out the front door having found the house vacant of Nikolai. The sun was shining today, a nice contrast to the previous days rainy weather. Your feet hitting the pavement underneath you made a quiet tapping sound as you walked along the sidewalk towards the book shop. You listened to music through your headphones for the duration of your walk and took in the sights of the city, the tall buildings towering over the streets and casting dark shadows into the alleyways between them.

You quickly arrived at the book store and took off your headphones to hear the cashier better when you checked out. The nice lady handed you your change and sent you on your way. Walking out, you peered into your bag with excitement before you hear a young man yell out. "Dazai- where'd you go? Don't tell me you're in the river again!" You almost froze in your tracks when you heard that. Dazai as in your father's rival, Dazai? It couldn't be. You peered through the people weaving in between eachother and heard another voice reply. "I'm right here Atsushi, jeez, do you trust me that little?" He sounded unserious. Your eyes landed on them, the tall man with overgrown brown hair immediately caught your attention and you could feel fear flood your spirit. Your first thought was the question of whether or not he would realize you were Fyodors child and attempt to kill you, or make you his new rival. Him and the white haired boy he had with him turned towards you and started walking down the sidewalk. Dazai noticed your staring and raised an eyebrow, his slender, bandaged hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are you alright? You've got a thousand yard stare on your face there, kid." He says. You bit your lip and felt your whole body tense as you shook your head 'no'. "You...uhm, I know you." You mutter, backing up a little bit. "Atsushi? Or me? I don't think I recall ever meeting you. Atsushi, was this one of your little orphan friends?" He turns to Atsushi. "You killed my-" Your breath hitches when you realize you were going to make yourself vulnerable to your most current fear of rivalry with this man, but you can't stop your words flowed out of your mouth like a waterfall. "You killed my father." Your voice shook and you held your bag of more books than you had originally came for close to your chest. Dazais raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

You swallowed hard and parted your lips, the words caught in your throat for a second. "Fyodor." His eyes widen again. "Huh...I never took him for a family man. Well, I can't really give you a truthful 'im sorry' because I'm not, but I hope you can overcome your grief. It sucks to lose people you love." He says, his tone seemingly sympathetic, but that only made you angrier. "You didn't have to kill him, though! You could have done anything else- amputate an arm, kidnap him, anything that would have left him alive!" You say, your eyes tearing up. He only signed and stated at you, adjusting the hem of his vest. "What's done is done, it's not like I can resurrect him. One day you'll understand that it needed to be done." He walked away and you couldn't help but feel the anger bubble up inside you. You weren't gonna let that slide. You clenched your fists around the bags handles and swung it up, hitting him right in the back of the head angrily. He let out a quiet "oomph" and rubbed the back of his head. You didn't turn around to see the rest of his reaction, instead bolting away.

You heard your heart beat in your ears, but you couldn't be bothered to stop until you got home. You unlocked the door and swung it open before pulling it shut with just as much force. Your energy was all directly fueled by your anger towards Dazai, you genuinely had no idea how he could be so inconsiderate towards a teenager who had lost their parental figure. You huffed and collapsed on the couch, the adrenaline and energy seemingly fading away instantaneously. You discarded your books on the small table and sniffled, curling your limbs into your body. "It's fine, he's just an ignorant, awful, dick." You mumble, wiping your stray tears away. "All that matters is that I know he didn't deserve to die.." you mumbled and felt your exhaustion catch up to you as you drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of reuniting with your father.

#bungo stray dogs #bungō stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd dostoevsky #dostoevksy #teen reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fyodor x you #dad!fyodor #bsd spoilers

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Regret, Guilt and Anguish- Zhongli

Sequel to 'Of Flowers and Death'

featuring:- Zhongli, sister!Ei, reader [name] warnings:- angst, hurt no comfort, a few slaps from Ei to Zhongli a/n:- This was a request from an anon, so nonnie, I hope you like it!

masterlist

“Chirp, chirp, chirp!” Birds flaw about happily as Zhongli walked down a familiar path, heart clenching as he looked at one of the houses. The guilt and grief he felt was immeasurable, to the point he hadn’t even protested when the Traveler set off to Sumeru, merely wishing for her safety and success. Why? Why did you have to die? He had barely recovered from Guizhong’s death with your help, before you too left him, shattering him into pieces all over again. And who would help him to rise from this night again?

His attention was drawn to a bird chirping angrily at the footstep of a house that was starting to look old . That bird was an exotic bird, imbued with electro, carrying a roll of paper with it. He walked over to it and bent down to take the paper, seeing that the recipient of those letters would not open the door ever again. His eyes widened as he went through the contents of the letter sent by Ei.

“Dear [name],

Did you safely reach Liyue? Why have you not been responding lately? Are you that busy? [Name], I’m getting worried. Please, send me a letter soon, even if it has just a few words. I won’t mind. Just let me know that you’re alright, and I’ll leave you in peace for a while. I am anxiously waiting for your letter, so please don’t forget.

With love,

Raiden Ei."

Zhongli’s breath hitched as he dropped the paper. He’d been so absorbed in himself that he completely forgot about your sister. How… how would he tell Ei that her dear sister would never reply to one of her letters again? It would be most rude and cold to merely inform Ei about your passing through a letter. Perhaps he should go to Inazuma himself to tell her, now that the Sakoku Decree had been lifted a few months ago.

***********

“What…” The violet-eyed female in front of him whispered, staring at him like he had grown two heads. She shook her head. “This is a joke, right? You’re just joking. Last I’d seen her a few weeks ago, and she was well and healthy. There’s no way she could be- be-” Her voice cracked at the end, unable to see it. Zhongli, or Morax, didn’t respond, he merely stared at the floor in regret. Anything he said now would trigger Ei, send her off the edge. She didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this. 

“Morax?” She murmured in a voice less than a whisper. “Is… is it really true?” Zhongli had told Ei all the details about your end, omitting a few things at the end though. Now he responded only with a nod, unable to talk due to the choking feel in his throat. (dw he wont get hanahaki he has to live to suffer). A multitude of emotions could be seen swirling in Ei’s eyes- grief, sorrow, anger, rage, disbelief, fear; it was all there. Staring at him with wide, shell-shocked eyes, she slowly collapsed to her knees, staring blankly forward, ears ringing in the silence. First Kitsune Saiguu, then Makoto, and now [name] too? You had been so full of life the last time Ei saw you. But now… She was all alone. How did she not even know about your hanahaki? Why did you hide it from her, making her believe everything was great?  What was the point of her pursuing eternity, if she couldn’t even protect the ones she loved?

A loud sound echoed throughout the room. ‘Slap!’ Ei had unsteadily gotten to her feet, and landed a harsh blow across Morax’s face. ‘Slap!’ Another. She didn’t care that he was older and more powerful than her. What she cared about was that he was the reason you were dead. Another slap echoed throughout the room, and another. Ei didn’t stop. He was the reason her sister was dead, and Ei was releasing all of her fury and grief on Morax, and he… He silently stood there with his head bowed, silently accepting all the sharp blows that made his jaw ache. Because her anger towards him was completely justified- it was all his fault.

He had to go back to Liyue with a heavy heart. And he knew, he knew that he would never recover from this.

I'm sorry, this was really short but the idea has been living in my head since the time you sent in the ask, i hope you liked it!

#skylia's works #~requested by:- anon~ #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #zhongli x guizhong #genshin zhongli #zhongli hurt/no comfort #genshin angst #genshin hurt/no comfort #genshin ei #raiden ei #raiden shogun #genshin oneshots #genshin scenarios #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin impact

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Into Darkness is by no means a perfect movie, but Spock's speech about caring is one of the hardest hitting moments in all of Star Trek in my opinion.

There is such a deep longing to the music as Spock brings up the destruction of Vulcan (by the way, the track is called Spock and Uhura and yes it’s a reprise of An Endangered Species from the first movie), and such a raw vulnerability to the characters. Nyota and Jim are at a loss for words as they see Spock’s distance for what it is: deep, deep seated trauma, combined with extraordinary resilience.

There’s something so spot-on about Vulcans in general too. Everyone here already knew that Vulcans do experience emotions, but Spock admitting to it leading with a simple “You misunderstand” still feels like the unearthing of a closely kept secret. You can see the realization in Nyota and Jim’s eyes, as Spock explains that he’s not rejecting emotions because he holds them in contempt but rather because they’re just too vast and too painful – that who he is is a choice he’s holding onto, and not a character flaw he’s in denial about. The intimate confession flips the script on the humans who wanted the Vulcan to feel the full weight of their anger, annoyance and concern, and end up grappling with the full weight of his grief instead.

And the fact that they’re not facing each other! Like it’s something too monumental to discuss face-to-face! How Spock’s soft words are so powerful they convey everything. Combined with the music and the duality of the soft, warm light and blue shadows, it’s like the echoes of Vulcan are right there, like desert sands and ocean-deep sorrow.

And of course there is the absolutely heart-wrenching ode to romance that is the last line: “Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring. Well, I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite.” This is the single most achingly tender thing ever said.

(video transcript:)

[Spock, Nyota Uhura and Jim Kirk are flying in a shuttlecraft. They're all facing their consoles/the viewports and all have their backs to each other, with their seats in a triangle.] Spock: "Your suggestion that I do not care about dying is incorrect. A sentient being's optimal chance at maximizing their utility is a long and prosperous life." [Nyota rolls her eyes] Nyota: "Great." Jim: "Not exactly a love song, Spock." Spock: "You misunderstand. It is true I chose not to feel anything upon realizing that my own life was ending. As admiral Pike was dying, I joined with his consciousness and experienced what he felt at the moment of his passing. Anger. Confusion. Loneliness. Fear. [Nyota's expression shifts. Spock and Uhura/An Endangered Species starts playing] I had experienced those feelings before, multiplied exponentially on the day my planet was destroyed. [Jim is listening intently, with a somewhat pained expression.] Such a feeling is something I choose never to experience again. [Spock speaks over his shoulder in Uhura's direction while she listens, looking touched.] Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring. Well, I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite." [Nyota leans back against her headrest with a soft smile.]

#spock #jim kirk #nyota uhura #spuhura #james t kirk #star trek #star trek 2009 #star trek aos #spock x nyota uhura #spock x uhura #vulcans #destruction of vulcan #meta

[kitixie]

Unknown / Nth (T.S.)

hey y’all! this is just a little one shot inspired by the new hozier song, unknown / nth. i highly highly recommend!!

word count: 1.2k

warnings: this is SAD. like, sad sad.

A marriage to Tommy Shelby was not for the faint of heart. He was a liar, a secret keeper, a killer. He was many things a man should not be. But God, did you love him. He hung your moon and stars, he was the rising and setting sun, and your world revolved around him. He was it for you, and you thought you were it for him too.

Until Grace.

Until Grace came along, and Tommy started staying out late, saying things that your Tommy never would have said to you. He became hateful, cold, and distant towards you. Instead of being the sun, he was now the darkness. The kind that swept in at night and stole all signs of happiness and joy, the kind that pillaged until you begged for a shred of the man you knew to come back. It’s funny how true colors shine in darkness.

By the time Tommy began to change, you were in deep. With him, with the Shelbys, with all of it. You and Tommy had experienced things that would bring most couples together. You had felt the loss of two children inside your womb, and Tommy had been there for all of it. You had felt the death of your father, yet he had stayed constant. You moved homes, you survived fights, you survived wars. You survived. Maybe that was the issue, you were just surviving. How long could you act like he wasn’t becoming someone you didn’t recognize? How long could you last, when every night he came home smelling like her, your heart cracked?

“Thomas?” You called, hearing the front door shut.

“Yeah, Y/N, ‘ts just me,” he responded blandly.

You could hear footsteps, but they sounded like they were stumbling. He was drunk, once again, which meant he would come into your shared room bearing the scent of Grace, once again.

You watched him as he footed his way through the bedroom door, tripping over things that weren’t there.

“Thomas, are you drunk? This is the third night this week, and it’s only Wednesday.”

“And what if I am, Y/N? Who cares?” He spat, narrowing his eyes at you.

“I care, Tommy. I care,” you let out in a whisper, a tear slipping from your eye.

You had set a rule for yourself when he first started going out. No crying in front of Thomas, especially not over things that Thomas did. If he saw you cry, he’d work his way in, feeding off your emotions like a succubus. You couldn’t let him do that, you had to keep him at an arms length, especially right now. Your heart ached for him, for its home inside of his hands. More than anything, you wanted to tear out the dreadful thing and hand over to him, let him fully destroy it. It had always belonged to him, ever since you were school children. The Tommy you had grown up knowing, the one you had dated since you were 16, the one you had married, was gone. He no longer existed, yet his body stood in front of you. It was cruel thing, to be married and chained to someone like that. To be bound by so much trauma and grief and love, yet to know they are not the same person who shared those feelings with you. To feel so close, yet be reminded that you are so far away by the cheap perfume and lipstick smeared on his shirt collar.

“What are you crying ‘bout, Y/N? You’ve nothin’ to be sad about.” He spoke, not having compassion, but annoyance.

A million feelings boiled in your chest. Anger, grief, passion, pride. But the one that was leading them all, the one that ruled every word about to come from your mouth, was love.

“I’m crying because I miss you, Tommy. I miss you, and you’re off doing God knows what with that bar keep, Grace. I can’t stand it, Tommy. To see her have what’s mine. Do you know what it feels like to be inside my body? Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness and love I still carry for you?”, you screamed, letting the feelings flow like a free river, “I feel like I’ve been caged, Thomas. I feel like I’ve been banished to a room, only able to watch our lives through glass panes. I can’t touch you, I can’t hold you, I can barely speak to you. But I love you, God I love you Thomas. I wish you knew what it was like.”

You had stood from your seat on the bed, letting your hair fall around you as you sunk to the floor. Your hand cradled your face, drying your own tears. You had always been able to be alone, always being fine when Tommy had to go away for a while. But this time, you couldn’t tell if Tommy would ever come back, not really. He was totally different.

Tommy stared at you, a blank look on his face as he observed your crumpled form. Your shoulders shook, and you let heaving sobs fall from your mouth. Was it worth it to stay here? To let this love you had once known control everything you could ever know? How would the two of you fair this storm? How would you not only survive, but come out thriving? Was it worth the weight of carrying this burden, of knowing that Tommy was disloyal?

“I don’t know what to do, Love. I’m lost.” He finally spoke, his voice coming out a whisper.

“Tommy, I would cross the earth for you. I would walk so far to take the injury of knowing you. I just need you to reach out a hand for me. I would give you everything, and you know that, you have to know that.”

He had to know.

“I know, Y/N, I know. I’m sorry, Love, for how I’ve been acting.”

-

Tommy had agreed to some counseling after your breakdown, and not much had changed. He still came home smelling like her, kept staying out, just now he went on weekends and swore it was with his brothers. He kept trying to trick you, and he truly thought he was getting away with it.

Not anymore. Now, as you stood in your bedroom, stuffing clothing into a small suitcase, no tears were in your eyes. No feelings were in your heart except anger and betrayal. Once again, you heard the stumbling footsteps of Tommy Shelby. You had become used to the sounds by now, being able to accurately tell that it was him and where he was on the staircase.

He finally entered your room, a look of shock crossing his face.

“Y/N, what are ya doin’?” He slurred. Typical.

“I’m leaving, Thomas. I’m leaving Birmingham, and I’m leaving you.” You said, keeping a calm tone.

“No, ya aren’t. You’re my wife.” He grumbled, sharpening his words.

“Thomas, I don’t want to be your wife. I won’t lay with you while your with her.” You zipped the suitcase.

“What the ‘ell are ya talkin’ about! You don’t know anythin’!” He screamed, his face redding.

You kept calm. You had already had this fight in your head a thousand times.

“I am leaving, Thomas. I gave you my heart, and now I see it’s pieces stuck in your teeth. I am done.”

You gathered your suitcase, and left the home you had built together, finally finished with trying to know and understand Tommy Shelby. There are some people who are better unknown.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby #kitixiewrites

[yanderes-galore]

Could I Request a yandere arkhamverse harley quinn concept? -🎂

Sure! Writing Harley Quinn could be fun :) This felt a bit everywhere but most of my fics are me just letting my thoughts flow without planning so I hope you enjoy ^^

Yandere! Arkham! Harley Quinn Concept

(Primarily Arkham Knight)

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Anger issues, Grief, Kidnapping, Drugging/Gassing, Breaking and entering, Forced companionship, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior.

Harley could work as a romantic or platonic.

Like... as a platonic she seems like she'd be really bubbly and act like a friend.

A psychotic friend but... somewhat of a friend.

As a romantic she'd be about as obsessive with you as she would be with Joker.

One thing that Arkham/Injustice Harley share with each other is their independence from Joker.

It's just that they deal with it differently.

Injustice Harley becomes a hero after the death of Joker.

While Arkham Harley commits to crime in the name of Joker.

This version of Harley actually gets more insane at the passing of Joker instead of better.

Harley would be a very dangerous yandere in general, but this universe may just make her worse.

Her obsession with someone new most likely starts sometime around Arkham Knight if she sees you in a romantic sense.

If she sees you in a platonic sense I imagine it could be whenever but for now I'll focus on Arkham Knight.

Harley is a yandere who feels she needs to be dependent on her darling.

If she sees you as a friend/ally then she sticks around you as she feels you'll ease her through her grief.

Which is strange as if anyone else tries to ease her grief she snaps at them.

Here's some backstory between you, up until Arkham Knight.

The friend route would make more sense if you "knew" her when Joker was alive.

Harley no doubt first had platonic feelings towards you, that's how her yandere traits would start due to her being with Joker.

She stalks you for a bit then breaks into your home.

She acts like you two are friends and is really bubbly and overly excited towards you.

While you barely know anything about the crazed woman who keeps breaking into your home, she feels she knows everything about you from just watching you.

No doubt spills about you towards the Joker.

She tells him she's found a new friend and that they simply must be involved with their plans.

Your "friendship" with Harley is very one-sided.

She somehow manages to find you and even drags you with her places.

At least once you've been a hostage for one of her and Joker's plans.

The entire time she's acting like it's a fun thing for you two to do.

"Mr. J said I could bring you to meet him~ I bet we'll have so much fun!"

You did not.

Despite your fear and forced compliance, she trusts you and soon you may even get used to being a target of her strange obsession.

Hell, maybe soon you convince her you'll be her "friend" if she just visits and doesn't pull you into any of Joker's plans.

She agrees... and never leaves you alone.

You and Joker are the ones she loves the most.

So when she loses Joker, her beloved, she only has one other person to cling to.

While you contact the police and Batman of Harley's obsession towards you, Harley realizes she needs the comfort of her beloved friend.

It's at this point Harley can stay a platonic yandere or split into a romantic yandere.

Harley would hunt you down, even if you moved.

When she does? She'll send her goons to pick you up and drag her to her little base she's made for herself.

It disappoints her that you may no longer be in your old home, but she'll find you.

You don't need to hide from her!

The moment your conscious you look so confused.

Only to see Harley staring with a grin.

"Hey there! Been awhile, hasn't it? Safe to say I think I've missed you...."

Harley would use her darling as a coping mechanism.

Like an old friend, one you never wanted, she sobs and rants about the loss of Joker.

The whole time you're tied to a chair and hoping Batman comes fast enough.

Then over time she'd shift the topic of her rants to you.

She rambles to you about how you've always been there and how much fun you two have had in the past.

Then maybe the conversation dips into romantic territory... her mentioning how she feels things for you without even meaning to say it.

The idea of her having romantic feelings towards you strikes fear in your gut.

Unfortunately, it's not your say if she has romantic intentions with you or not.

If Harley continues to just see you as a friend then she plans on making you her second in command.

Even if she liked you as a crush she'd take a similar route, although it changes over time.

She's physically clingy and often wants her darling beside her.

Harley would also find some sort of "fun" nickname to call you all the time, smiling the whole time.

If Harley held romantic feelings towards you... imagine if she tried to make you her new "Joker" in this universe?

She may try to get her hands on Joker blood, gas, or even some chemicals to force you into her new love.

Oh, Puddin'... you may be unwilling now, but she'll show you that you can be wonderful for each other.

Harley in this universe truly can't forget about her Joker.

She also adores you.

Why should she have to choose between the two of you?

Why doesn't she just have both?

Harley in this universe definitely seems like she'd brainwash and drug you into the next Joker.

The moment she sees traits of him in you melded with your normal personality, she's in love.

Ohhh, now she has you both!

She's never been happier!

While you're panicking as your personality feels split due to Joker... Harley is holding you and kissing you with happy giggles.

"Oh you're everything and everyone I love! Now I have you both once again... we... I can be happy again!"

By this point something is telling you to reciprocate the affection but you struggle with what to do.

Harley becomes fully dependent on you after this, simply happy she has her two loves in one.

Maybe you'll even let the whole Joker personality take over?

Then you'll be a ruler of crime.

This isn't a life you wanted.

But as the Joker's presence within you grows... you begin to enjoy it.

Then maybe you'll begin to reciprocate Harley's feelings.

Then you'll be everything she's ever wanted.

"I love you, Puddin'...!"

#yandere dc #yandere dc villains #yandere arkhamverse #yandere dc arkhamverse #yandere harley quinn #yandere arkhamverse harley quinn #yandere arkham knight