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some-bunniii · 2 months

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My Charming Red Savior [4]

・❥ A friend revealed, and warm feelings.

x: pronouns are she/her. no use of y/n.

xx: decided to change the saving fem!reader to its AO3 title, so all parts of this fic have been updated for this change as well!

~6.8k words

warnings: depictions of blood/injury

“Did I miss anything?”

Those were the first words the King of Hell had spoken atop the large patio, as you stood in awe, battered, with dust and debris sticking to your body. You blinked, frozen in place as your eyes scanned over the pearlescent man’s figure, who grinned charmingly across from you.

He leaned lazily against the gold railing, now partially destroyed from the small explosions that had peppered the front of the hotel. The screams and snarls from below were all but silenced now, except for one or two stragglers who could be seen making a run for it in the distance. But, not before a large, swamp-green tentacle snaked around them, and began beating them into the ground. It wasn’t long before your gaze was back on Lucifer, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It wasn’t until Lucifer’s smile faltered slightly at your silent staring, did he clear his throat, nervously tapping against the apple-tipped cane in his grip. “You look a little shaken up, are you doing good over there?”

You were about to open your mouth to speak, until your eyes darted to another small, cylindrical object flying right towards Lucifer. You recoiled, throwing your hands in front of your face as it closed in on the fallen angel.

“Watch out!” You cried to him, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the familiar boom of the grenade to shake the patio. Lucifer whipped his head around, eyebrows raised as the grenade soared towards him. Lifting his arm, he caught it in his hand before it could hit him in the face, before raising it to get a closer look.

You splayed your fingers, peeking through the small gap when you realized once more that your heart was still beating. Raising an eyebrow, your face contorted into surprise as your gaze rested on the object in Lucifer’s hand.

The bomb ticked quietly in his palm, slowly increasing in speed as the seconds went by. It vibrated in his grip, and Lucifer only inspected it casually, rolling it between his fingers with interest.

Was he just going to hold it until it exploded? You watched silently with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly was going to happen. If it went off, would the King of Hell even have a scratch on him? Maybe, that was why he seemed so confident holding a bomb in his hands. Watching Lucifer catch it casually in the air a few times only cemented that thought.

The perks of being immortal, you supposed.

“Hm, seems they got the timing off on this one,” Lucifer observed, just as the ticking seemed to increase to every millisecond. Right when you were sure it was about to go off in his palms, Lucifer’s fingers curled around it. It looked like he was squeezing the cylinder like a balloon, as the black, metal surface contorted, shifting from the pressure.

Instead of lighting into a ball of flame, the bomb exploded in a burst of multi-colored confetti. Which sprayed across the patio, a few stray pieces landing on your face as they settled onto the floor. You were silent, in awe at the magical display. Lucifer only grinned at you, a silent boast of his powers as he caught you gawking. He adjusted his collar, still leaning against the railing as he brushed some confetti from his shoulder pads.

Realizing he had noticed your staring, your cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. You lay your eyes for the first time on the most powerful man in Hell and all you can do is stand there and look dumb, get it together! Leaning forward, your head practically hits the cracked tile flooring as you bow.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness!” You quickly pipe up, your eyes still locked to the floor as you keep your head down, “Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know if I’d be alive without your intervention.”

“It was no biggie.” Lucifer shrugged, waving his hand in the air in a sweeping motion, as he brushed off your compliment. He lifted himself from the railing, taking a few steps forward as he began to cross the patio. “Can’t have my daughter’s friends be attacked by a couple of low-life thugs.. again! What kind of a father would that make me?”

You straightened, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your brows furrowed as the words left his lips, mouth opening slightly as if you were about to question him on his statement.

‘Daughter’. Was he talking about Charlie? Of course, he must be, she looked like a carbon copy of him! But, that would mean… it wasn't an imp that had approached you yesterday morning during your shift. At least, not any normal imp. Does that mean you had been talking to…?

It was in the same instance that Lucifer leaned in closer to you, his eyes squinted in thought as he inspected your face. He placed a finger on his chin in thought, as he regarded you with a curious expression through those soft, yellow eyes of his.

“Wait a second… do I know you from somewhere?” He questioned finally, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. You smiled as you thought of a response, your hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition before you could say anything, and he snapped his finger as connected the dots.

“That's right! You were that sweet worker at the formalwear store yesterday, weren’t you? The one that opened early for me!” He beamed, taking another step closer as your eyes widened at the proximity.

“Y-yes, that was me, Your Majesty.” You stammered out, cursing yourself so being so godamn nervous. “Except, I wasn’t really aware that you were... well, you?”

“Oh, heh, yeah, my impish disguise. Pretty good, eh?”

Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anything that would have made you guess that imp was actually Lucifer, at least before you had met the man. Except, for the height. That hadn’t seemed to change between the two appearances, as you still had to lower your head to meet his gaze even now.

You took a deep breath, calming your jittering nerves as you again realized who was standing right in front of you. Never once did you think a lowly citizen of Hell like you would be this close to the Lucifer Morningstar! Should you have kneeled instead when you greeted him? What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Alastor would have surely known.

That thought made you lean over slightly to get a peek past the fallen angel’s brimmed hat. Your eyes followed the slender, shadowy forms of tentacles snaking around the last two criminals, who were trying to shoot the large masses.

“Aren’t you, um, going to go help..?” You pointed behind him, and Lucifer turned to follow your finger just as another thug was flung past the large fence that surrounded the hotel. Their squeal of fear faded as they disappeared from view. Static-laced laughter filled the air as the tentacles began to dissipate.

“Nah, I think your… friend down there has it covered.” Lucifer shrugged after a moment, turning back to face you.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm your jittering nerves. Between last night and this, you were about ready to lay in your bed and hibernate for the next three months. Life was exhausting, it seemed.

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer smiled, nodding along as he clasped his hands together. “Didn’t think I’d find drug dealers trying to knock down the walls, though. Looks like I really have to up the security around here.”

You nodded along half-heartedly, and watched as he strolled past you towards the door. He only made it a few steps before he halted, and you jumped slightly as he pivoted to face you. He waggled a finger at you, mock suspicion in his gaze as he leaned in. Now that you could get a better look at him,

“I also was not expecting to find you here, either. Only yesterday, it seemed like you had no idea the hotel even existed. Now, I find you in the raging path of a feral tea table. An odd turn of events, don't you think?”

You smiled, heat creeping onto your cheeks in embarrassment. You probably looked pretty pathetic when Lucifer was saving you, curled in a ball while you accepted your grim fate. You wished you had some kind of badass demon magic, so you didn’t have to be so helpless. Did Alastor ever feel helpless? No, probably not, he seemed so confident in every situation you saw him face.

The way he strolled down the stairs so casually when the thugs had first attacked, made it seem like he had done that kind of thing many times before. But, it seemed like that was true, since you patched up one scuffle on his coat, and were told of his encounter with Sir. Pentious–which you simply couldn't believe would attempt such a thing, now that you’ve met him–a few months prior.

You wondered what made him and Lucifer struggle to get along, had something happened in the past between them? Maybe, you could get Alastor to budge with that with a little prodding. For now, you were unsure of what to tell the King. How would he react if you said the only reason you were here was because of Alastor? You didn’t want to lose the friendliness you had with Lucifer, it probably wouldn't be fun to be on the King of Hell’s bad side.

Plus, it seemed like Lucifer liked you. Did that have something to do with the fact that he claimed you were a ‘rare gem’ when it came to being a nice person in Hell? He did give you all that money.. which you lost. Maybe, he’d give you some more if you played your cards right.

And, if it was as friends, you wouldn’t mind getting closer to the fallen angel. He was just so funny and charming, you couldn’t imagine the kind of gossip he had to share, and you wouldn't be bothered if he shared it with you.

“Oh, well, beeeecause I was interested in redemption! Ha-ha, yeah. When we talked earlier, your words just struck something in me! So, I took a tour and stayed the night.”

“Really? I inspired you to come to the hotel?” Lucifer asked incredulously, tilting his head thoughtfully at you. He raised an eyebrow, doubt written across his features.

“That’s right! I mean, you even gave me a bunch of money like it was no big deal. That was very kind of you!” You nodded enthusiastically. That wasn’t exactly a lie, since the conversation with Lucifer yesterday did lead to Alastor revealing more about the hotel, which in turn piqued your interest enough to even consider staying for an extended period.

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes lit at your response, a gleam of happiness that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to be standing a little straighter too, as if that was some kind of confidence boost for him. Did Lucifer not… genuinely help people often? Was it something he wished he could do more often?

Seems like ruling a realm full of demons that continually commit the worst atrocities known to mankind would break an angel’s will to want to make a change.

“I wanted to thank you again for your generosity,” you started, your tone genuine as the glint in Lucifer’s eyes only seemed to grow, “All that money you gave me would have really helped,

“Would? What happened?” Lucifer inquired, tilting his head curiously.

“Some guy mugged me,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. It felt weird telling people about your most vulnerable moments. You found no enjoyment in retelling any of these scary events, and hopefully, your bad luck would end soon.

“And they stole everything from you?”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer huffed in annoyance, his teeth baring slightly as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn’t exactly be surprised, it was Hell. Not to mention, the guy has been neglecting his kingly duties for a while now and has only just started going to meetings for crying out loud.

“Jeez, I’m sorry about that. Here, let me jus–”

“Where did that new girl go? What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” You could hear Vaggie’s voice from downstairs, as the gaping hole in the side of the hotel made it much easier to hear their conversations now.

You heard multiple inaudible responses to the question, before Vaggie’s rose above them with renewed anger.

“She’s still up there?! you’re telling me none of you numbskulls went to get her after that big explosion?”

“₩Ⱨ₳₮?!” You heard a snarl of static at Vaggie’s words.

Tensing, you kept your eyes trained on Lucifer as you strained your ears to eavesdrop on the voices below. It seemed like they were looking for you now, did they even know whether Charlie’s dad was here?

“Alastor, hold up!” You heard Angel Dust’s call from the bottom of the staircase, which made you pivot to face the closed doors not too far away. Lucifer, who was standing a few steps away from you, looked up curiously as the doors swung open.

Standing there, chest heaving slightly, ears twitching, was Alastor. His eyes instantly landed on you, before quickly scanning over your figure for injuries. Did he just leap up all those stairs? That wasn’t a very short distance by any means.

His arms were outstretched beside him, as he gripped both doors. Alastor’s claws slightly dug into its wood frame as he observed the smoking, half-burnt balcony with a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t until his eyes met Lucifer’s–you swore you saw a flicker of surprise cross his gaze–that something seemed to flip like a switch inside the demon, and Alastor straightened instantly, his ears returning to their normal placement as corrected his posture.

A large, toothy grin appeared on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between you and Lucifer only a few feet apart. His eyelid twitched as Lucifer sent him a deadly grin behind you, the tension in the air thickening to the point where you felt like you’d suffocate even in this open space.

You only smiled brightly in return, sending Alastor a finger wave as you sidled a step away from the fallen angel beside you. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun as he pivoted slightly to face you. A mischievous glint in his eye as he cocked his head at Alastor, a haughty look on his face.

“Can I help you?” He feigned irritation, an eyebrow quirked as he sent the demon a pointed glance. As if Alastor had just barged in on the two of you deep in discussion, souring the mood.

Alastor wasn’t able to get a word out when multiple footsteps echoed from behind him, noisily clopping up the long staircase as they bickered amongst themselves. A familiar pink spider popped his head over Alastor’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pearlescent face beside you. More heads appeared around, their eyes scanning across the balcony as they observed the scene.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, squeezing through the clump of nosy demons, surprise written across her face as she passed Alastor.

“Honey!” Lucifer beamed, a smile gracing his features as he met his daughter halfway. Charlie extended her arms, ready to accept Lucifer’s large hug as he returned the gesture. He held her for a moment before he released her, backing up a step as the others pushed past Alastor’s figure to get a better place behind the princess.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at that art auction?” Charlie questioned, tilting her head at him.

“That ended last night.” Lucifer nodded, “Now it’s some kind of celebratory artist-only afterparty, which means even the King of Hell cannot attend, unfortunately. So, I thought I’d drop by. Good timing, it seemed, or else your friend here would not be standing here any longer.”

Lucifer turned to you, gesturing to the dust and debris hanging to your clothes, as you stood there silently with that same awkward smile.

“Oh, yeah. She’s interested in being a resident of our hotel, for redemption!” Charlie smiled excitedly, proud to be able to show her father that her dream was slowly expanding. You nodded along, your hands clasped together politely as they discussed you.

“Yes, I heard! We’ve been having a nice discussion these past few minutes, her and I. A real doll, this one is, just like when I met her previously.”

“You two... have met before?” Charlie finally asked, confusion laced in her voice as she looked between the two of you. The demons behind you shot curious glances in your direction, silently waiting for more juicy details.

“She was there when I bought your tuxedo! I was in disguise, though, so nobody saw me as.. well, me. She even opened up early for me, just out of the kindness of her soul!” Lucifer scooted beside you, nudging you in the arm playfully as he spoke. “Guess you could say I owed her a rescue after that considerate gesture.”

“Did you throw a party up here, too?” Vaggie piped up from the doorway, kicking away at a few stray pieces of the colorful confetti that was sprinkled across the floor. Charlie’s eyes were glinting as she processed her father’s words, before glancing down at the new red suit that she was wearing. She looked up at you with renewed interest, a blooming on her face.

“That was all His Majesty, actually,” you finally spoke, lifting a hand to your mouth as you giggled, “It was pretty impressive, to be honest, I’ve never seen a party trick like that before. I thought the confetti was kinda funny.”

You purposely avoided looking at Alastor as you spoke, so his reaction to your praise was a mystery. Lucifer only smiled proudly beside you, your words boosting his ego.

“Well, that’s not the only trick I’m good at,” Lucifer chuckled. Before he sent you a wink, then a playful smirk that he swept across the small crowd. Their eyes were locked on him, captivated with anticipation for the charming angel to display some of his magical talents.

Except, for Alastor, who only smiled widely, his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the theatrics. You didn’t pay him much mind, instead keeping your attention on Lucifer. During your time in Hell, you hadn’t come into contact with many figures that could harness demonic magic so effortlessly, apart from Alastor.

The King of Hell, however, was on a whole different level, he had pure angelic power. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you were not going to miss this for anything. However, it seemed your admiration was a little too evident, as you missed Alastor's squinted gaze analyzing your expression.

Lucifer finally rested his gaze on Alastor, who met his eyes, just as he tapped his cane against the ground, a flurry of golden sparks igniting from the touch. a vortex of golden eaves began to swirl around his cane, before flooding across the destroyed, cracked floor of the balcony. It was like a small ocean pooling at your feet, and it felt like the ground was shifting underneath you.

Sticking a finger gun towards the split table, Lucifer shot an explosion of magic against its surface, and it crackled with energy. Before you could blink, the two pieces slid together, attaching like Lego pieces back onto their legs. Fresh color adorned the wood, a lovely shade of peach with matching chairs. It settled onto the ground, with not even a scratch from the abuse it had just received.

He aimed a few more magical-loaded digits towards the broken railing, and the spilled flower pots, making pew pew sound effects with his mouth as he did so.

The balcony began to shift back into even better condition than it originally was, the broken scenery straightening itself back into form. Slowly, the golden waves against your ankles dispersed and were pulled back into Lucifer’s cane.

The large, white marble tile beneath your feet was perfectly sealed, not a single crack upon its surface as it sparkled with a newfound shine. You lifted your leg, surprised finding your figure to be completely dry.

The demons around you stood mesmerized by the display, their eyes glowing and lips puckered in a small o. Alastor only tapped his claws against his cane impatiently.

“How is that for a party trick?” Lucifer turned to you, sending you a charming grin.

You were about to open your mouth before Charlie appeared at your side with a happy squeak. Her blonde hair cascaded down your shoulder, the silky strands like feathers against your skin.

“Thank you for the help, Dad!” Charlie beamed, squeezing her cheeks as she stared lovingly at her father, “it’s so great to see you make new friends, too!”

“And, new clients!” Lucifer boasted, adjusting his bowtie with a grin “Last time we talked, I told her all about the hotel and what it offered. Seems like my salesmanship charm prevails once more.”

“How funny,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as he strode up beside Charlie, planting himself into the small group’s discussion with a grin, “but it appears His Majesty is mistaken, for it was I who persuaded our darling belle here to take a chance at redemption.”

“Pfft! You? Please, you couldn’t even convince an angel to redeem themselves. At least, not with that haircut!” Lucifer laughed, and your mouth dropped open, your gaze flicking to Alastor, who seemed to hesitate for a moment in shock at the bold insult.

Your eyes darted to Charlie. She returned the look, before slapping a hand over her dad’s mouth.

“Okay, moving on!” She replied cheerfully, pinching her dad’s lips closed as she turned towards the staircase. Vaggie shot a glare toward the rest of the onlookers, who began to sadly shrink away.

“I’m afraid Your Majesty is uninformed!” Alastor ignored Charlie, as he walked closer to stand right beside you. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heartbeat quickening at the realization you were directly in the middle of the two dueling forces.

“Of what?” Lucifer questioned.

“Why, of our association, of course,” Alastor said sweetly, grasping your arm gently as he gestured to your figure. Heat crept onto your cheeks, as you let him slide in closer to you.

“You two know each other?” Lucifer asked, doubt laced in his face as he shot you a questioning stare. You only averted your gaze, unsure of how to respond to all of the prying eyes.

“Indeed! I’m sure you’re familiar with a charm like this?” Alastor smiled innocently, before gingerly holding out your hand, gesturing to your ring finger. That golden ring glinted in the sunlight, and the small rose-gold engraving of the letter A was on full display.

Lucifer’s eyes widened after a moment, and his gaze shot to you, then to Alastor, before landing back on the ring. He seemed to reel back slightly as it finally dawned on him, before his face settled into a look that silently grumbled ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Charlie gasped, clutching her cheeks as she leaned in closer for a better look. The ecstatic look on her face was a complete inverse to her father, who only averted his gaze at the sight.

You stood with an awkward smile, heat creeping onto your cheeks as you sidled slightly away from Alastor. You did not expect him to be sprinting it back onto these guys, in front of Lucifer no less.

The King only turned to you, disbelief in his features as he sent you a pointed stare.

“You’re telling me you work at a formalwear store, and you picked a guy with this bad of a wardrobe?” He gestured subtly to Alastor’s suit, a grimace on his face as he eyed the demon’s style with contempt.

Alastor only adjusted his bow tie, throwing his hair back as he straightened. He shot you a pointed look too, prodding you with a ‘Are you really going to agree with him?’ stare.

You said nothing, so Alastor only turned to face Lucifer, clasping his hands with a large smile, “I’d take your fashion advice to heart, Your Majesty, but it seems your taste lies at the bottom of a bargain bin, so I must respectfully disagree.”

“Bargain bin?!” Lucifer gasped, a hand shooting up to his chest as he recoiled. A growl rose from the fallen angel’s throat as he opened his mouth to retort, only for Charlie to grab him from behind and pull him away from Alastor.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount from yesterday if you just take that ring off!” Lucifer begged as Charlie dragged him down the steps. “Do you fancy goat horns? I know of someone in the Wrath Ring that is available!”

The father-daughter duo disappeared from view, their voices muffled as you watched the doors slam shut with a crackle of green energy. Turning to face Alastor, you find a smug grin dancing on his lips. You frowned, did this guy really just insult the King of Hell like the man couldn’t stomp him in a moment?

“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” you chastise the demon, waggling your finger as you spoke, “speaking so comfortably with the King in such a condescending manner. He could smite you for that, you know.”

“Verbal sparring with the monarchy is a favorite pastime of mine, sweetheart! I’m sure our dear king enjoys it just as much as I.” Alastor shrugged, twisting the cane between his claws as he regarded you with playful eyes.

“You are such a pain in my—”

Your words died in your throat when the outline of a dark-red rose was thrust towards you, Alastor’s fingers gently curled around its stem as he held it up for view.

“For you.” He smiled, his lips curled in a soft grin.

“Me? But, where did you get this?”

“Some bumbling oaf down there was going to stomp on it, so I stomped him, instead,” Alastor shrugged, extending the rose closer to you as he spoke, “I thought it would be something you’d find interest in. It… reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze lowering towards the wine-colored flower. It was beautiful, even with its slightly jagged petals, and the much larger thorns that covered the black stem.

But, for Hell, it was such a relieving sight. To know that something that presented emotions could exist in such an apathetic, pessimistic environment like the realm around you. Honestly, it didn’t have that many similarities in comparison to Earth’s rose, but its mere resemblance made nostalgia pull at your heartstrings.

Old emotions began to boil inside you, and your throat tightened. Even after all the hardships, you still missed the trees and the smell of real, fresh air. The feeling of the sun against your skin, kissing you with a warmth that always stirred a smile onto your lips. Hearing the morning doves in the early spring morning, their gentle coos echoing through the thin veil of fog that settled onto the dew-filled grass.

Now, you were stuck here. A dark, dirty realm that gave you its fair share of grief too. A lot in the span of two days, even. But, the good in it, was seeing the genuine smile that greeted you every time Alastor drank in your presence. Like this morning, when you agreed to join him on the patio, and the way his ears seemed to stand even taller when you said yes.

It was also the fact that Alastor was so intent on presenting this lovely gift to you, that he killed someone just so the rose would survive the chaos, that made you feel so warm and giddy inside.

A smile bloomed across your face, and you gently wrapped your fingers around the stem, right above Alastor’s own. The top of your hand grazed against the softer texture of the rose’s petals, but its sharp thorns nicked at the skin on your fingertips, causing you to grimace slightly. You adjusted your grip slowly, the pain ebbing as you found a comfortable hold.

Your hand brushed Alastor’s as he released his grip, pulling his hand towards him, his gaze traveling to your arm lifting as you inspected the rose closer. All the memories of long, forgotten experiences made years prick at your eyes.

“I.. don’t know what to say. This is so sweet of you,” you replied softly, eyes still locked on the rose and you gently caressed its petals, “thank you, Alastor.”

Alastor watched the emotion flood across your face, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say next. The look on your features made him feel.. strange.

As if, this was a reaction nobody in Hell has ever given him before, excluding Charlie. It was fear and anger that only ever greeted him. Which he preferred, it made him feel strong, made him feel powerful.

Your soft, sweet smile, however, was something Alastor could get used to. The way the dimples on your cheeks deepened slightly as your lips curled delicately. As if you too were a rose, your petals softly opening for the new day.

His gaze still rested on you as the tip of your nose inched closer to the petals, before you inhaled a deep breath.

It smelled surprisingly sweet, but also with a warm, earthy scent. A hint of smokiness underneath the layer of the sugared aroma. It reminded you of a wood-burning stove, or the smell of firewood that clung to your shirt after a night in the wilderness.

But, also… the faint metallic tang of blood.

Brows furrowing, you pull the flower away, your eyes traveling to the barely visible glistening substance coating part of the stem. It almost mirrored the color of the dark-red petals, and you lifted your gaze to Alastor.

When your eyes traveled up his figure, it was the small trails of red liquid that dripped from his fingertips that made you recoil, a hand to your mouth as you gasped.

“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” The worry in your voice was obvious as you stepped closer to him, trying to get a better look at the small gashes on his skin. He regarded it with indifference, as if it was just a simple bother. You frowned at his reaction, there was no way that didn’t hurt!

He was a sinner, just like you, and almost everyone in the hotel. Mortality was still present in his afterlife, including the sensation of pain. No matter how hard he tried to present himself as a powerful being like Lucifer, he was still just a man who felt the same things you did. If not, with a little different... perspective.

“It is nothing, do not fret about me, my doe,” Alastor brushed off your words, beginning to pull his hand away from your view. You saw a drop of blood leave the tip of his claw, falling onto the cracks below your feet, “they are just feeble scratches, nothing I, the Radio Demon can’t handl–”

Alastor’s words died in his throat, the last of his sentence coming out in pure static as his pupils dilated on your hand wrapping around his wrist. Your grip was firm, preventing him from shielding the wounds from you, as you tugged his hand closer.

This was the boldest move you had made since the two of you had first met. It was usually Alastor who made the first gesture, who took your hand and touched you softly. As if you were a fragile doll that could crack at the teeniest bit of pressure.

The man was so used to control, having complete say in who touched him—which was never, unless you count Angel Dust whenever he tried riling up the demon—and why. If you were some normal face in the crowd making such a move, he’d probably have torn them apart.

But oh, the warmth from your touch that greeted his cool skin had him yearning for more. That blissful feeling that seemed to bloom from inside his bones, that traveled like a river through his veins, filling him up with a strange, yet awfully familiar feeling.

Like, when his mother would sit him down at the table for dinner, a bowl of hot, steaming Jambalaya in her hands that she made just for him. Anytime she noticed he had a hard day, she’d cook his favorite meal.

As a child, he had eagerly scarfed it down, impatient to fill his stomach with such a treat. When he grew older, however, he learned to slow down and savor the explosion of flavors that tickled his taste buds in every bite.

He remembered the way the delicacy traveled down his throat, and how it felt like a fire was igniting in his belly. The warmth emanating from your skin reminded him so much of that.

And that smile that always graced your features at the sight of him? Alastor remembered that from somewhere too. His mother’s lips always curved into a soft, gentle grin that would make anyone butter up in their presence.

Your lips seemed to curve just the same, and the demon was sure if the two of you would have met before the afterlife. His mother would have loved to meet you.

Alastor remained deathly silent, his muscles tense as you splayed out his claws, turning his hand over to have his palm face up. There was dried blood across the smooth skin, which meant he had been bleeding for a while now.

How hard was Alastor holding the rose during the fight that he cut up his hand like this? If it wasn’t for the bickering between him and Lucifer, you surely would have noticed it earlier.

Your fingers gently brushed against the small cuts, blood still slowly seeping from beneath the demon’s skin. You nudged his wound softly, inspecting it with worry.

“Does that hurt?” You asked softly with furrowed brows.

“Does it matter?” Alastor scoffed, averting your expectant gaze.

“Yes! It does, actually!” You retorted, before your gaze moved to your outfit with a determined look. Quickly, you reached down, taking a fistful of fabric in your grasp before pulling it hard. With some friction, it began to tear away from the rest of your garment.

Now, you had a large piece of cloth in one hand, and Alastor’s wrist in the other. Reaching forward, you began to cover his cuts tightly against the fabric.

“Must you ruin such a pretty outfit for something so insignificant like my hand?” Alastor inquired, exasperation lacing his voice, “You’re treating it like some kind of battle wound, I am fine, my doe.”

He didn’t pull away from you, however, as you finished patching up his injury. Inspecting his hand closer, you eyed work for a moment, before you shook your head, dissatisfied.

“I forbid you from doing any activities for the rest of today until you address your wounds,” you declared, crossing your arms sternly.

“Forbid?” He inquired, quirking a brow in amusement.

“That’s right! If you don’t take care of your injury, or let me do it for you, then I’ll have no choice but to put my foot down.”

Alastor squinted at you for a moment, that grin masking his thoughts as he regarded you. Was he going to argue? Sweat beaded on your forehead as you anticipated his answer. It wasn’t like you could exactly stop the powerful demon from doing what he wanted, but you also couldn't just let him strain his wound further because of pride.

Alastor didn’t argue. Instead, he simply shrugged, a pleased smile gracing his features. He closed his eyes thoughtfully, before holding a limp hand towards you.

“Well, if you insist,” he hummed, cracking one eye open to watch you expectantly.

“Really..?” You asked in disbelief, regarding his hand with suspicion.

“If the lady wishes to fuss over my health, I suppose I could heed her demands,” Alastor responded casually, lifting his hand closer towards you, “and, how could I refuse such a generous offer?”

You smiled playfully before slowly wrapping your fingers around the makeshift gauze, trying to get a good grip around his cuts as you held his hand.

“Is there somewhere I could get medical aid inside? Baindaids, alcohol solution… ibuprofen?”

Did Ibuprofen even exist down here? There had to be something similar at least, the Pride Ring was full of mortals that could still feel pain. Was Alastor in a lot of pain? Even if he was, you probably wouldn't get a straight answer from him.

Now, you understood why Alastor and Lucifer didn’t like each other. They were just fighting for who was really the embodiment of pride.

“Hm..” Alastor tilted his head in thought, before his ears twitched, and a sly smile graced his lips, “I do believe I know just the place!”

Without a word, he returned your grip and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched, your chest almost bumping against Alastor’s as he took your other hand. The two of you looked as if you were about to start a waltz, as the demon looked out towards the railing, his chest still facing yours as his smile grew.

“Hang on tight, my dear!” He stated chipperly, and you fastened your grip hastily. The air began to crackle with energy, goosebumps rippling across your skin as static seemed to tickle at your figure. Green smoke pooled at your feet, and that familiar tingling sensation overtook you, just like the first time you were teleported.

Alastor only pulled you closer right as the smoke blasted up, cold air hitting your face as you were pulled into darkness. The presence of the hand against yours was faint, but at least you weren't alone this time. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, your heart racing as you waited to feel the floor against your feet once more. Then, you felt a thumb brush softly against your knuckles, it circled soothingly across your skin, and you relaxed slightly.

What felt like minutes really only took a couple of seconds, as you felt soft lighting hit your eyelids, and Alastor stir beside you. His hand didn’t leave yours, as he waited for you to join reality.

“Not so bad, hm?” He prodded you slightly, beckoning you back into reality.

Letting your pupils adjust to the light, the familiar wallpaper from the hotel corridor met your vision. Did he really just materialize the two of you across the building? You didn't have any problem walking, but perhaps Alastor was trying to avoid the small crowd that would have met them at the bottom of the patio stairs.

“I feel kind of queasy,” you responded, shaking your head of the fog in the back of your mind.

“After a few times through, it won’t bother you anymore,” Alastor assured.

Trying to get a better estimate of your location, you turned your head to one side of the hall, taking in the sight of a dark, oak door. The familiar numbering made you quirk a brow, tilting your head towards the smiling demon. He met your gaze, a soft, lipped smile on his face.

“We’re going in my room?”

“Not quite..” he hummed, gripping your shoulders and pivoting you to the opposite side. Your eyes widened, gaze locked onto the matching door of Alastor’s room.

You stayed silent, feet frozen in place as you watched him take a few steps, his good hand wrapping around the spherical doorhandle. Slowly, he twisted the knob until it clicked softly. The hinges creaked with age, and the hallway lights began to spill into the darkened room as the crack in the doorway widened.

You couldn’t see anything through the slightly opened entryway, but your heart quickened as the second passed by. Your eyes flicked up to Alastor, who regarded you curiously, his gaze gentle as your nerves began to display on your face.

“Ladies first!” He beamed, his smile an assurance to your heated skin.

He obviously wanted you to go inside, and part of your brain was nudging you forward with excitement. Alastor was inviting you into his quarters, he was allowing you to take a step inside his world, to get to know him!

The other part whispered hesitation. What lay behind that door? Surely, more than just medical supplies.

It was as if you wrapped a sheet around the reluctance that was beginning to plague your mind, stuffing it underneath the floorboards of your brain. You weren't going to let your flustered mind get the better of you, and have you miss such an opportunity to get closer to the charming demon.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you banished your nerves into the air. Straightening your back, you sent Alastor a warm smile and took a step forward.

wingman!lucifer anybody? ✋

let me know what you think! ☺️ comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @katiebwalczak03 @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @thenocturnalreadingotaku @just-here-reading @taintedgenre @fairyv-ice @aisling1985 @missam @funkyexistence @summerofregret@beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @thehybridprincesshatedchild

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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queeniecook · 1 month

Text

December 1

Dakota Laws was regretting his trip to the Magic realm. The weather was perfect - as always, the weather never changes in the realm - but his current company was not pleasant. He had been minding his own business, simply practicing a new spell he had read in the library when he was approached by another warlock - one he had seen in passing a few times but had never interacted with. Until today.

"I don't know why my heritage is any of your concern, Mr. Whittaker." Dakota bites out. One would think that if anyone had anything to say to him about his family, it would be about his father. Dakota is doing his best not to fly off the handle and remain calm, trying not to revert to his old ways but sometimes a person can only take so much before they explode.

"You're a half breed and you shouldn't be here!" The older warlock shouts back. The fellow had been ragging on Dakota about his Mother being human for the last twenty minutes, unbeknownst to the duo- they have an audience.

Dakota can hear his familiar, Poe, caw at the other warlock in anger. The magical bird is feeling what Dakota is feeling. Rage. If it was about his Father, Dakota wouldn't care but when anyone has a bad word to say about his Mom, that's another story. She raised two boys basically by herself. Luna Villareal will always be an angel in his eyes.

"Maybe we should see who really doesn't belong here?" Dakota suggests, he has no doubt he can beat this guy in a duel, despite the age difference.

The two warlocks step closer to the dueling grounds as their captive audience watches, amused and very interested in the outcome.

The warlocks fire shots at each other, each one landing a few blows. It's not long before it becomes obvious who the stronger warlock is but Mr. Whittaker stands his ground until Dakota gives one last push with his powers. By this time, their audience has moved to stand behind Dakota. Unlike the younger warlock, James has dealt with Wiley Whittaker on and off during the years. He's a sore loser. it's not beyond Wiley to not respect the laws of a duel and fire at his opponent after the duel has been decided.

"Hmm, not bad." James compliments Dakota, sounded surprised though he isn't. He's dueled Dakota himself on two occasions. He knew the younger man would best the older man.

Dakota jerks back, not even realizing James was there. That's how focused he had been on proving Mr. Whittaker wrong. He looks at James, wondering if he's about to have to defend himself against not one but two warlocks. He backs up a little, ready for a fight -right as Mr. Whittaker picks himself up off the ground and begins dusting off his suit jacket.

"Looks like you got your arse kicked, Wiley. You should know a strong ancient bloodline beats out human genes any day." James gloats, though it's not his victory to boast.

Dakota pauses at James' words. He shouldn't be shocked that James knows who his father is. He just hadn't considered it before that moment. Maybe that's why James had been trying to get him to become an ally.

"James...why am I not surprised that you're here, trying to suck up to the young whelp so he won't usurp you from your throne of being the realm's royal douchebag?" Wiley growls at James, completely forgetting Dakota. He didn't like the young warlock but James - he despises him all because many years ago he found his fiance in bed with James.

James chuckles so hard he could feel it vibrating his chest. "I think you claimed that crown long before I did. Willie."

Dakota stands there, quietly wondering if he and Poe can silently side step their way out of there and leave the two men to kill each other.

"It's WILEY." that's all that's said before Mr. Whittaker gaves James an actual shove. Before Dakota even has time to blink, James has uttered a spell that has turned his once opponent green.

Dakota finally blinks, drawing a breath - almost frozen to the spot. James is quick. Extremely quick.

An inhumane sound comes from Wiley Whittaker as he's electrocuted but shockingly, to Dakota, is left alive. He feels if he hadn't been there, James would have killed the warlock. Can't have a witness after all.

Moments pass by as Dakota stares at James and James stares down the now crispy warlock, who wisley runs for it, almost launching himself into some roses bushes on the way out. Dakota for his part, doesn't know what to say, so he simply turns to leave. He gets to the bridge before he hears James call to him. He halts, turning to look at James.

"Looks James, I don't....know what all of this was. But if you expect some kind of thank you, not gonna happen." Dakota states. He's highly suspicious of James getting involved in the situation but there also was clear animosity between James and Mr. Whittaker. Maybe it actually had nothing to do with him.

James smirks slightly at Dakota, he knows he's confused the heck out of the young man. Frankly, he enjoyed seeing Wiley get his butt kicked in a duel and enjoyed it even more torturing the man a bit. He had been watching Dakota once he discovered the young warlock was in the realm at the same time as him but he hadn't planned for them to be there the same day. Sometimes, fate or whatever you want to call it steps in. That's what his own Mother had always told him.

"Don't let anyone ever put you down. Always stand up for yourself." James tells Dakota, he isn't even sure why he's saying it but it's flowing out of him for some reason.

"I'm not you, James." Dakota states, crossing his arms and still making sure there's distance between them.

"You can be a good man and not be a doormat for people." He knows it sounds odd coming from his lips, considering the kind of person he is. "You come from an very powerful ancient bloodline, you have a right to be here just like everyone else."

And with that, James disappears in a sparkly fog using a transportalate spell and leaving a stunned Dakota behind.

#the grant legacy #ts4 legacy #generation 2 #dakota laws #james #the other bloke don't matter xD #ts4 magic realm #sims 4 #thesims4 #ts4 #sims4 #ts4 story #sims4 story #sims4 storytelling #simsstories #sims story #ts4 warlocks #dakota and james

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thatorigamiguy · 2 years

Text

Performance Anxiety

Jaune was busy playing on his scroll as he patiently waited for his girlfriend, one Ruby Rose, to show up at one of their usual hangout spots. The location in question, was a small area sequestered a few miles away from Beacon that led into Emerald Forest that Ruby had converted into a makeshift firing range for her and Jaune to practice at. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jaune looked up from his scroll to greet his fellow team leader, only for his face to freeze in what could only be described as abject horror at the object that Ruby was holding in her hand.

Jaune: "...Ruby?”

Ruby: “Yes Jaune?”

Jaune: “What the hell is that… thing, you have in your hand?”

The “thing,” in question was what appeared to be a gun, though, to call it as such would be pushing the textbook definition of the word “gun”. If Jaune had to be honest with himself, the “gun,” in question appeared to be a cobbled together scrap heap: The barrel and grip appeared to be made from one long misshapen piece of shoddy steal, with what appeared to be four loading ports sloppily attached to the side with an unending amount of flatheads, while the “trigger,” was nothing more than a steel loop that attached to the front of the grip with a thin sheet of metal.

All in all, it looked less like a “gun,” and more like a shrapnel bomb one wrong misfire away from exploding in its users hands. It honestly looked like something one of those green skin creatures would have used from that game series he and Ruby fancied, and just as dangerous as well. While Jaune looked at the firearm in question with a weary look, Ruby held her new creation in her hands with a proud look on her face.

Ruby: “So, normally you can’t mix and match Dust rounds with one another. Oh sure, you can make custom rounds, but that can become really expensive really fast! So, I’ve designed a prototype that will allow me to use multiple types of dust at once without need to change them out! All you have to do is place whatever kind of dust you have within the four chambers, and with a quick flick of the trigger, you can quickly rotate to which ones you want!”

Ruby: *Eye’s Glowing* “This, ‘thing,’ is the future Jaune!”

Ruby beamed with pride as she presented her newest creation to Jaune for his use. Unfortunately for her, Jaune did not share her exuberance nor her optimism in regards to her newest piece.

Jaune: "The Future my ass! Ruby, I’ve seen you make some pretty out there weapons before in the name of experimentation, but this just looks like a scrap bomb just waiting to go off in someone’s hand! Especially if you’re playing around with mixing and matching Dust, of all things!

A gasp of indignation escapes Ruby’s lips, before she hugs her newest weapon close to her chest.

Ruby: “Jaune, how could you say such a thing about my baby!?”

Jaune: “Because your new ‘baby,’ is dangerous Ruby! As annoying as she is about Dust in general, there’s a reason why Weiss always stresses to us not to mix it around. While I’m all for you wanting to experiment and innovate, I’d rather it not be at the expense of you blowing yourself up from using a gun that not even a bandit would even dare to use.”

Ruby: “But I love her! So what if she’s not the prettiest gun in the world? It’s not what she has on the outside that counts, but what she has on the inside that truly matters!”

Jaune: (Deadpan) "Ruby, have you even test fired her yet?"

An awkward silence filled the air as Ruby’s passionate zeal abruptly vanished at Jaune’s question. A brief stare down occurred between Ruby and Jaune, before Ruby’s eye’s shot down to the weapon against her chest, before shooting back up to look Jaune in the eyes.

Ruby: “...Yes?”

The silence had already told Jaune the answer he needed, but Ruby’s hesitant answer pretty much all but confirmed it.

Jaune: “RUBY!?”

Ruby: “Celt has performance anxiety, okay!?”

Jaune was momentarily caught off guard at Ruby’s declaration, before he pinched his eyes closed and let out an exasperated sigh.

Jaune: “Of course you would have already named her…”

Ruby: "Celtic Knot is her name, because she's all piled up on herself that you don’t know what kind of Dust she’s going to shoot out, and she is a work of art!”

Jaune: "Well "Celt" looks like she can shoot everywhere that isn't straight and take your hand off while doing so."

But Jaune could only sigh, already knowing that this was a losing battle. And from the hopeful puppy dog eyes she was shooting between him and Celt, he may as well have lost the war all together. Contrary to her normal exuberance in terms of weaponry, even Ruby had her limitations in regards to what does and doesn’t work. There were just as many rejected prototypes of hers as there were just as many successful ones and even she knew when it was time to cut one's losses in regards to a failed weapon...

...Unless of course, Ruby had already bestowed a name upon the weapon in question. Then that meant that she, without doubt, believed that she had crafted a weapon that she one hundred percent had total faith in being a major success in the field.

Even if the weapon in question looked like a cobbled together piece of junk. This wouldn’t have been the first “named,” weapon that Ruby was confident in, only for it to backfire completely and cause havoc and mayhem across the campus, and inevitably wind up getting everyone involved. Nora was still traumatized after the terrifying attempt at a “Pancake Gun,” and for all of her patient and forgiving attitude, Pyrrha was still fairly irked about the “Prometheus,” incident.

Jaune never would have thought in his life that he’d ever see his partner as angry as she was that day. And if it wasn't for a timely intervention from Miss Goodwitch(And really, the whole faculty of Beacon), then he was also fairly certain that she and Yang were going to destroy the whole academy from the fight they got into after Ruby unknowingly activated the wrong settings on, “Prometheus.”

But that was neither here nor there, and Jaune already knew what the outcome of this was going to be.

Jaune: "I already know you’re not going to budge on this, so we might as well do this the safest way possible.”

Ruby: “And that would be?”

Jaune heaved out a hefty sigh, before sticking his hand out in a gesture for Ruby to hand over Celtic Knot.”

Jaune: “That would be me being the one to test fire her. I’m sure your aura could sustain one Dust induced mishap, but I’m not going to risk your safety at the possibility of there being multiple Dust explosions going off at once. And I can keep myself protected with my semblance, just in case Celt get’s a bad case of performance anxiety.”

Jaune could already feel himself regretting this decision, but the hopeful look of pure joy and glee on his girlfriend's face pretty much squashed any chance of him backing out now. Ruby went to hand the gun to Jaune, before getting a thoughtful look on her face and before she brought Celtic Knot close to her face and gave it a quick kiss.

Ruby: (Kisses Celt) "You'll be just fine with Daddy, okay hon? No reason to be nervous now."

With her final words of encouragement, Ruby gently hands Celtic Knot over to Jaune, who proceeded to cautiously load the strange pistol up on its sides with the Dust charges that Ruby had made specifically for her. After loading the gun, Jaune did a quick one over to make sure all of the flat heads were secure and tight and that the gun wasn’t going to literally fall apart in his hands. When he was sure that Celt was going to hold together, he stopped putting off the inevitable and chose a target that would(hopefully) be Celt’s first victim.

Jaune quickly readied himself in a perfect shooter stance, with Celt sighted down the range and with his finger on her trigger at the ready. Jaune braced himself as he gently, but firmly began to pull back the trigger…

“Click.”

...Only to be greeted with the sound of silence as Celtic Knot failed to shoot.

Jaune had a blank look on his face at the anticlimactic result. He had honestly expected the gun to either chain fire due to its odd design or just outright blow up, but to not shoot at all?

Jaune: (Quietly) "Strange..."

Jaune proceeded to eject the Dust charges from Celtic Knot’s side ports, slowly and carefully ran his eyes over the gun to see if there was anything that may have been compromising it from firing. After a few minutes of closely scrutinizing the gun, Jaune had concluded that nothing seemed to be wrong with Celt(As far as Jaune could tell with her odd design), Jaune once again loaded her up again, sighted her down the range, and pulled back the trigger...

“Click.”

...only to, once again, be met with nothing more with the empty sound of silence. At this point, Jaune was baffled and unsure of why Celtic Knot refused to fire. His first thought was a possible safety, but he could already tell that the gun had no such mechanism on it. Even if that was the case, Ruby would have informed him about it already when she was giving him the details on the gun in question. With a lost look on his face, Jaune looked over to Ruby for guidance on what to do next.

Ruby: (Happily) “Try positive reinforcement Jaune!”

Jaune: “...Positive reinforcement?”

Ruby: “Yeah! Celt is nervous right now, so you gotta give her some reinforcement to show that she’ll be fine!”

Ruby punctuated her statement by giving Celtic Knot some words of encouragement.

Ruby: "You’re doing great sweetie! You’re in good hands, so don’t worry about making mistakes! Just do your best!”

Of course, leave it to a woman who sees weapons as if they were living, breathing, people to tell him such an answer. Jaune shot Ruby a skeptical look at her response, before giving Celtic Knot a hesitant look.

Jaune: (Hesitantly) "...There's nothing to be afraid of Celt and you don't have to worry about letting us down, so just try and... give it your best?"

Jaune internally winced at his lame sounding words of encouragement, but what else was he supposed to say to a gun of all things? He wasn't often prone to talking to weaponry as if they were his children like his gun loving lover, but he had apparently said the right thing that needed to be said as when Jaune went to fire again…

“BANG!”

He was met with the satisfying sound of Celtic Knot firing off a round, a large crack echoing throughout the forest as he had managed to successfully shoot one of the targets. Ruby let off a whoop of joy as her baby managed to successfully shoot a target, while Jaune could only stare in disbelief for a moment at the fact that the gun actually worked before a smile creeped onto his face…

“BANG!”

Unfortunately this sense of pride and accomplishment didn’t last for long as Celtic Knot soon shot off another round.

“BANG!”

Then another.

“BANG, BANG, BANG!”

Then another, leading to one of Jaune’s worst fears of the gun coming true as Celt began to chain fire multiple rounds down the range. Jaune immediately removed his finger from the trigger, only to find to his dawning horror that Celtic Knot was still firing! She kept continuously firing as she began to randomly rotate through the various Dust charges that were loaded on her side. A multitude of elements were discharged down the range, before Jaune’s aim was thrown off by the sudden discharge of a gravity round and Dust began flying everywhere.

Jaune desperately tried to get a handle on the recoil, caught off guard by the sudden shift in recoil and from underestimating just how powerful Celtic Knot was for her small size(a foolish mistake on his part in regards to anything made by Ruby). While Jaune struggled to get Celt back under his control, Ruby tried frantically to calm Celtic Knot down before the situation got even more out of hand...

Ruby: (Panicking) "Celt you need to stop!"

“BANG!”

Ruby: (Still Panicking) "Please just calm down Celt, it’s going to be okay!!"

“BANG!”

Ruby: (All the Panicking) "How are you even still firing?! The charges should have run out already!!!"

...To little to no success. Dust rounds were going astray left and right, and made no discrimination to what became the victim of it’s inevitable impact. Trees, the ground, several Grimm that had been attracted to the loud noises, the branch that Blake totally wasn’t hiding on and was definitely not trying to spy on the two of them when they did… “things,” at their range(needles to say, Ruby had some weird kinks). Jaune was also fairly certain that he saw a round or two make its way towards the headmasters office…

-Ozpin’s Office-

Ozpin couldn’t stop the smile spreading on his face as his coffee had finally finished being brewed in the pot. It was a special blend that he had custom ordered from Mistral and one that he had been looking forward to tasting the whole entire week. His office was filled with the strong aroma of coffee wafting through the air as he slowly began to pour his precious liquid gold into his favorite mug. Satisfied with his determined amount, Ozpin carefully made his way to his desk so that he would not spill a drop, before gently taking a seat.

He gently blew on his coffee to cool it down slightly, before he slowly began raising his mug to meet his lips to finally enjoy his bitter, black, brew…

“CRACK!”

...Only to find his mug shattered in his hands after what appeared to be a gravity round quickly zipped past his office. One would usually be worried about stray rounds being shot into their office, but Ozpin could only stare in horror as he looked upon what remained of his favorite mug. It laid shattered in a million pieces upon the cold, lifeless floor while the contents within; once a hot and fresh beautiful cup of coffee, was now nothing more than a cold, black stain splattered across his office floor.

Ozpin: (Crying) "No… No! This world is naught but ashes and broken dreams! There is nothing for me now, but the cold reality of broken promises! It was so young, not even past its first sip, yet already taken from the world!”

Ozpin fell upon his knees, hot tears in his eyes as he began screaming in righteous fury upon the heavens themselves.

Ozpin: (Screaming) "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED BROTHER GODS? YOU HEARTLESS BASTARDS! ARE YOU CONTENT NOW!? YOU HAVE FINALLY DONE ONTO ME WHAT SALEM COULDN’T ACCOMPLISH AFTER NEARLY A THOUSAND YEARS! YOU HAVE FINALLY BROKEN MY WILL!"

Ozpin’s rage quickly dissipated as curled up into a miserable ball next to his spilt coffee, only able to look upon its cold and lifeless stain with regret and misery in his eyes.

Ozpin: (Quietly) "Just let me die..."

-Back at the Range-

Jaune had finally managed to get Celtic Knot back under his control and had aimed it back down the range so that Dust rounds were not flying everywhere. Jaune needed to get Celt to stop firing, and he needed to do it fast.

Jaune: "RUBY, WHY IS CELTIC KNOT STILL FIRING?!"

Ruby: "SHE'S JUST REALLY EXCITED! TRY AND CALM HER DOWN! MAYBE SING TO HER? SHE MIGHT BE FIGHTING A NAP!"

Jaune: "ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

Jaune was put off by Ruby’s “solution,” but desperate times called for desperate measures and now was one of those times. And as much as Jaune honestly hated to admit it, talking to Celt got her to fire in the first place, so it might possibly get her to stop as well.

Jaune: (Internally) I can’t believe I’m actually doing this…

Jaune: (Hesitantly) "Hey uh, Celt. You… you did a good job managing to fire some rounds down the range honey, but do you think you can maybe give it a break now?"

Jaune’s hesitant request was met with more gunfire as Celtic Knot continued her rampage across the range.

Jaune: (Firmly) "Celtic Knot, you've shown to me that you're a good gun and that you're capable of getting the job done, now will you please calm down?"

Again, Celtic Knot kept unceremoniously firing across the range and it was at this point that Jaune had had enough.

Jaune: (Yelling) "JUST CALM THE FUCK DOWN ALREADY!"

And like flicking a switch, Jaune was met with the sudden sound of silence as Celtic Knot had finally stopped firing. The sudden cease fire caught Jaune off guard momentarily, before he breathed out a sigh of relief and gently placed Celt down on the range table in front of him.

Jaune: (Sighs) "finally...."

Jaune began to survey the scene and was in awe and distress of the destruction caused by Celtic Knot. Nearly half the range was destroyed by the barrage of Dust flung everywhere, along with a good portion of the surrounding forest area. Jaune let out another sigh, before gingerly placing Celtic Knot down on the loading table and giving Ruby a dry look.

Jaune: (Deadpan) “Well, guess Celt no longer has ‘performance anxiety,’ anymore, now does she?”

Ruby winced at Jaune’s dry tone, before letting out a nervous laugh as she looked away in embarrassment.

Ruby: “A heh, heh well... at least we won’t have to worry about her being nervous for later shootings now!”

Ruby shot Jaune finger guns and a shaky grin, only to falter when she was met with a withering, unamused stare from her boyfriend.

Ruby: (Looks down) “...Okay yeah that went pretty bad.”

Jaune rolled his eyes at the obvious understatement, before another tired sigh escaped his lips.

Jaune: “In hindsight, it honestly could have been much worse. And at least there wasn’t anyone nearby that was harmed by any of the stray rounds.”

Jaune swore he heard the headmaster screaming “WHY,” in the distance, but figured it was just his imagination.

Jaune: “And while it may not have gone the way we were hoping it would, I’d consider this a successful test firing.”

Ruby’s head snapped up at Jaune’s words with a hopeful look on her face.

Ruby: “Soooo… does this mean you approve of Celtic Knot?”

Jaune: “Well, I still think it’s dangerous to mix and match Dust rounds without properly combining them. And I also found her to be fairly heavy on recoil depending on the round used in question, and the kickback from her light frame could be an issue down the line.”

Ruby’s hopeful look dimmed slightly at Jaune’s critique as a thoughtful frown(though it really looked more like a pout) worked its way onto her face.

Jaune: (Smiling) “Despite this, I’d say that Celtic Knot is worth investing into. She’s fairly dangerous as is, but with a little work and the right materials, I’m sure you can work out the rough spots with her and help her get over her ‘Anxiety,’ without too many issues.”

Ruby squealed in excitement before her tiny frame impacted into Jaune with a big hug, one that he happily returned.

Ruby: “See, I told you that she didn’t have to be the prettiest gun in the world to work!”

Jaune: (Quirked brow) “You have a very loose definition of the word ‘work,’ if this is what comes to mind.”

Ruby: “Okay, maybe not the best performance, but still proof that she works! And I can have her fixed and upgraded with better everything in no time!”

Jaune laughed quietly at Ruby’s exuberance, before he winced as a growl escaped his stomach.

Jaune: “Geez, is it lunch already? Guess time sure flies when you’re busy causing mass property damage.”

Ruby: “Well then what are we waiting for? Let’s go get something to eat! I’ll even buy it since you went through the ringer with testing out Celtic Knot.”

Jaune smiled in appreciation at the kind gesture, before getting a concerned look on his face as he surveyed the now thoroughly destroyed range.

Ruby: “I appreciate that Rubes, but are you okay with leaving the range like this?”

But Ruby merely waved Jaune’s concerns off, happily smiling as she slipped her hand into his.

Ruby: “It’s fine, most of it was old second hand stuff that I sequestered away from the school. And besides, it gives me an excuse to buy brand new range equipment from the local weapon shops in Vale!”

Jaune could only roll his eyes at Ruby’s answer. Of course she would use the damage caused by Celt to buy even more stuff in regards to her chronic weapon addiction.

Jaune: “Why am I not surprised? You know, if it wasn’t for the fact that your reactions were genuine, one might think you’d have planned for Celtic Knot to destroy all of your current equipment as an excuse to buy new stuff.”

But Ruby only giggled in response to Jaune’s accusation, before she quickly led him away from the destroyed range hand in hand, already happily chattering away with him over everything and nothing. There was a moment of silence, before the rustling of tree branches could be heard, followed shortly by the appearance of a nervous looking Blake Belladonna.

Her amber eyes quickly darted back and forth over the now destroyed area, before letting out a sigh of relief after seeing that the coast was clear. She was in her usual hiding spot as she spied- observed Ruby and Jaune for “inspiration,” when she suddenly found herself being bombarded with stray Dust rounds being shot everywhere from that gun Jaune was test firing for Ruby.

Blake found herself frantically hopping between trees as she desperately avoided being made target practice by the rounds, before the firing suddenly ceased.

She had taken a moment to catch her breath from the Dust onslaught, before she overheard Jaune and Ruby talking about getting lunch. She waited for them to leave before she climbed down from her hiding spot, happy to have her feet back on solid ground and no longer jumping from branch to branch like a hot potato.

Blake: “This was not how I was expecting my day to go. All a girl wants to do is get some inspiration, and I end up getting shot at for my troubles!”

Blake grumbled to herself in annoyance, before she got a contemplative look on her face.

Blake: “Though now that I think about it: if Jaune had let go of the trigger, then how was Celtic Knot still firing?”

Blakes musing’s were cut off as a loud banging noise cracked through the air, before she felt the tell tale sign of a fire Dust round whizzing past her head just barely missing her head. What sounded very similar to a cat screeching escaped Blakes lips, before she ran away in terror at the unexpected attack.

Had Blake bothered to turn around to see who might have attacked her, she would have seen nothing but empty air and the smoking barrel of Celtic Knot sitting innocently upon the range table...

Alright, so... what’s good guys? I’m reposting some old stories to get the ball rolling, but I’m trying to get back into writing/shitposting after being gone for a while. I deleted my old tumblr due to personal reasons, but now I’m back and ready to get back to it.

#ruby rose #jaune arc #ruby rose x jaune arc #lancaster #rwby lancaster #headmaster ozpin #blake belladonna #gunshot #humor #rwby #rwby shitpost #repost

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darkmacadamien · 8 months

Text

Whumptober 2023, No. 4: "You in there?"

“Bruv, I dare you to drink it,” Isaac says, pointing to the crystal decanter containing a mysterious purple liquid sitting on Coach Beard’s desk.

Jamie scoffs. “Fuck off, man. I ain’t got a clue what’s in there. What if it kills me?”

“Then we will remember you fondly, Jamie Tartt,” Dani proclaims.

Jamie pretends to think about it for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Uh, nah. Still ain’t doing it.”

“Okay then, boy-o,” Colin interjects, “how about this— I double dare you to drink it.”

“Oooh,” the whole team choruses.

“You cannot turn down a double dare, my friend,” Sam says. Colin and Isaac nod in agreement, the fucking traitors.

“That ain’t fucking fair,” Jamie protests. “Why’re you picking on me, anyway? Richard’s the one with the iron stomach.”

“You were standing closest to me. Sorry, bruv,” Isaac apologizes, though he don’t sound very sorry.

“Philistines,” Jamie grumbles, but he picks up the fancy glass anyway. Unfortunately, Sam is correct: you can’t just not do a double dare. It’s practically one of the Ten Commandments, or something.

Jamie pops the cap on the bottle and gives the contents a cursory sniff. It smells cloyingly sweet, like those shitty perfume samples you get from magazines. “I think this might be alcohol,” Jamie says, running the bottle under his nose again. The scent is so strong it makes saliva well up in his mouth.

“All the more reason for you to drink it,” Jan Maas points out.

“Mate, you know I’m a lightweight. Roy will literally fucking kill me if I show up to training drunk.”

“Sorry,” Colin says, faux sympathetically, “but rules are rules.” He claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Drink up.”

Jamie sighs but concedes the point, and downs the shimmering purple liquid in one quick swallow. It tastes surprisingly light, like green tea, with hints of earthy spices, but it goes down like liquid fucking fire.

It’s worse than the highest-proof alcohol Jamie’s ever had, which had nearly made him vomit from one sip (there’s a reason he drinks vanilla vodka, for fuck’s sake).

Jamie chokes on the aftertaste, coughing and spluttering like he’s drowning. “Water,” he croaks, and a bottle is immediately thrust into his hands. Jamie guzzles it down, but it does nothing to soothe his burning throat.

A strange warmth begins emanating from his stomach where the liquid had settled like a ton of bricks. Jamie clutches at it, suddenly feeling faint.

“Something don’t feel right,” Jamie says.

Then he explodes into a large cloud of purple dust.

“Shit,” Isaac says grimly, when the dust settles. “I think we killed him.”

Where Jamie had once been standing, a figure lies crumpled on the ground.

“Jamie,” Dani cries, diving towards his friend and turning him over. When he catches sight of Jamie’s face, Dani jumps back like he’s been shocked. “Ay, Dios mío,” he shouts, crossing himself.

Colin puts his finger firmly on his nose, and says, “I am not explaining this to Roy,” because there, lying on the ground, is an unconscious child-size version of Jamie Tartt.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Isaac goes to find Ted, because Dani has devolved into hysterics and Ted is the least likely to start shouting and make things worse.

“Watch him,” Isaac orders Colin, pointing at child-Jamie, who’s still (blessedly) unconscious. Then he leaves Sam in charge. “Whatever you do, do not let Roy or Coach Beard into this room. If Roy starts threatening to punch dicks, call Keeley.”

Sam nods grimly. “I understand, Captain.”

“You’re a brave man,” Isaac tells him, and then he’s off.

It doesn’t take long to find Ted; he’s where he usually is at this hour, which means he’s riding around the pitch on the lawnmower.

“Coach! Coach, we have an emergency!” Isaac shouts, waving him down. Ted shifts the lawnmower into gear and rides over at an excruciatingly slow pace. Five minutes later, he’s pulling over in front of Isaac and killing the engine. “What’s up, buttercup?” he chirps.

“It’s Jamie,” Isaac says. “He drank the magic purple stuff on Beard’s desk and now he’s a kid.”

“Well,” Ted says, blinking slowly, “I must admit, I’m a little confused. Do you mean kid, as in…?”

“A child. Like, a youngster, or whatever they say in America. He can’t be any older than thirteen.”

“Oh, wow,” Ted says. “I think this might be a little above my paygrade. You said he drank something off of Coach’s desk, right? Sounds like we need to track him down and see what he has to say about all this.”

“Wait,” Isaac barks. “Won’t he be mad that we messed with his stuff?”

“I’d say it’s probably his fault for not putting a ‘No Touch’ sticker on it, wouldn’t you?”

Isaac shrugs. Fair enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“It’ll wear off in about twenty-four hours,” Beard tells the team, standing ominously over Jamie’s unconscious body.

“And there won’t be any weird side effects?” Isaac asks.

“Nope,” Beard says. “Once he switches back, he’ll be exactly the same as before.”

The team lets a collective sigh of relief.

“Why’d you even have something like that laying around, Coach?” Isaac asks.

“I didn’t,” Coach Beard says. “Jane must have snuck in and left it for me.” He sounds properly charmed by it, the bastard.

Out in the hallway, Roy passes by the dressing room and then promptly turns around once he realizes the entire team is gathered inside, still fully kitted out. “Oi, what’s this? Are we having a fucking party or some shit?”

The team moves in unison to hide Jamie’s unconscious body. “Nothing unusual is going on here, Coach,” Sam says, sounding like he’s reading directly from a script.

Roy shifts, widening his stance and squaring his shoulders, looking as if he’s rearing up for a fight. “I didn’t say I thought something unusual was going on,” he says evenly. “Out with it, then. What the fuck is going on here?”

When everyone remains stubbornly silent, Roy sighs, sounding put-upon. “Okay, let’s try this again— either someone speaks up, or I start punching dicks.”

The team parts like the Red Sea. Roy’s eyes immediately snap to Jamie’s unconscious figure. “Is that Tartt?” he asks. He walks over and pokes him with his foot.

Isaac clocks the exact moment Roy realizes that Jamie is about a foot shorter than he’s supposed to be.

“What in the ever-loving FUCK have you muppets—”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Roy reams the entire dressing room out for a good ten minutes. Not even Coach Beard and Lasso are spared, which in other circumstances might’ve been comical, but mostly it was just terrifying.

So terrifying, in fact, that no one notices a tiny Jamie Tartt come to consciousness and sneak out of the changing room.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Thirteen-year-old Jamie Tartt has no idea what to think when he wakes up in a strange dressing room with a much-older-than-he-remembers Roy Kent ripping into a team that he vaguely recognizes as AFC Richmond (although the kits look a little different than he remembers, too).

Jamie spares a thought to wonder why he’s lying on the ground, and then another to wonder how in the fuck he got here, because last time he checked, Richmond was hours away from Manchester.

The last thing Jamie remembers is his dad knocking him around the head, which might explain why he was unconscious, but past that, all semblance of sense goes right out the fucking window.

So, Jamie starts devising a plan to get the fuck out of there, ‘cause even though he was basically Roy Kent’s biggest fan, watching the man have a bitch-fit in person was much scarier than it was on TV.

And also, maybe, he’s just a little afraid that Roy Kent might start yelling at him, too. So, Jamie plays unconscious for a few moments longer, opening his eyes just a tick so it looks like they’re still closed, and scopes the room out, noting the nearest exit. Jamie maps out the quickest route to get the hell out of there, which doesn’t take long ‘cause Jamie happens to have a lot of practice escaping precarious situations.

Roy Kent has the team (and what looks like two coaches, what the fuck is that about?) cowering with their backs turned, so Jamie rolls over, shifts into a crouch, and creeps out of the room, real light on his feet. The moment he hits the hallway, Jamie sprints for the exit.

Well, he tries to, but a wave of dizziness sends him careening into the wall. His vision blacks about for a moment, and when Jamie comes to again, he’s half-sprawled on the floor.

Apparently, he’s in much worse shape than he thought.

Further down the hallway, the doors to the entrance fling open, and a tall blonde woman comes strutting in, heading straight towards Jamie. She hasn’t spotted him yet, but he’ll be impossible to miss once she looks up from her phone, so Jamie makes a dive for the nearest storage closet. There ain’t no way he’s making it past her without getting caught, and for some reason, she scares Jamie more than The Roy Kent, so it really ain’t worth risking it.

He clicks the door quietly behind himself, plunging the tiny room into darkness, and turns the lock. His jumping pulse thrums just below the surface of his skin. It’s much quieter in here; the only things that Jamie can hear are his own labored panting and the muted sound of the scary woman’s heels clicking past the storage closet and down the hallway.

Jamie presses his ear against the door and sighs in relief when the footsteps finally fade into silence. He leans back, slouching against a set of metal shelves.

Now that he has a moment to catch his fucking breath, Jamie does the exact opposite and starts panicking. He has no fucking clue how he’s going to get back to Manchester, but the first, most obvious step is to find a phone and call his mummy, ‘cause she always knows what to do, ‘cept Jamie doesn’t have a fucking phone on him, and after a cursory check of his pockets, he finds he don’t have any change on him, either, so a payphone is out, too.

The only person he knows in this entire building is Roy fucking Kent, but the thought of getting yelled at by him makes Jamie literally want to throw up, like. And Roy Kent had seemed pretty angry, and Roy Kent is the type of guy to yell at the sun if it shines too bright, so. Roy Kent is probably out, too, unless Jamie wants to send himself into early cardiac arrest, or whatever.

Jamie seems to be doing a pretty good job of inducing a heart attack all by himself, though, if the pain in his chest is anything to go by. It’s just— he can’t fucking breathe, and his head is on fucking fire, so Jamie reaches back to touch the crown of his head, where the pain is emanating, and his fingers come back wet. He can’t fucking see anything ‘cause the room is pitch black, so he sticks a finger in his mouth, and yeah. That’s the taste of iron, which means the sticky viscous liquid coating his fingers is blood. Jamie is bleeding.

Fuck.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It takes approximately five minutes after Roy stops yelling for everyone to realize that Jamie had somehow disappeared, and then another five minutes after that to organize a cohesive search party (mainly because Roy had started yelling again and it had taken Isaac, Colin, and Jan Mass to calm him down). They trample out of the room like a herd of elephants, each player heading to a different part of the complex to search. Ted hangs back for a second, long enough to catch his breath. Thinking about a tiny version of Jamie Tartt (hardly older than his own son) wandering around alone and confused makes his chest feel tight.

Hell, even thinking about adult-Jamie getting upset is enough to raise Ted’s pulse or make his breathing go all staccato-like.

Down the hallway, Ted can hear Roy and the rest of the team shouting for Jamie at the top of their lungs. Ted forces himself to relax; Jamie can’t have gotten far, and with twenty-some people looking for him, it’s unlikely that he’ll stay lost for long.

Then Ted notices that there’s blood on the floor, and his heart drops into his stomach.

It might not be Jamie’s blood, Ted rationalizes. They’d just wrapped up practice, after all, and scraped elbows and knees practically come with the territory. It could just as easily be Zoreaux’s, who had taken a nasty dive in the goal today. Or Sam’s, who could’ve re-opened the wound on his hand from when he’d helped out at his restaurant the other day. What Ted’s trying to say is: the blood could be literally anyone’s.

But somehow, Ted knows it Jamie’s. It sticks in his mind like caramel in your teeth when you eat a Snickers bar.

It’s not even that much, either. But Ted worries.

So, he follows the trail of blood out into the hallway, stepping around it carefully so it doesn’t get on his shoes, until it leaves him standing in front of a supply closet just a skip away from the locker room.

Not far, indeed.

Ted gently knocks on the door. “Jamie, kiddo? You in there?”

It’s silent for a long moment; long enough that Ted considers trying the handle, but then, he hears rustling behind the door.

“How th’fuck d’you know my name?” Jamie spits.

Ted sighs silently in relief. Target acquired. Now, for some damage control.

“Ouch,” Ted jokes. “You sound about as angry as a trampled-on copperhead, which I would know, because I’ve stepped on one before. Luckily for the both of us, I know a thing or two about venomous snakes. Now, I bet you’re real confused right now, but that question is going to need a lot of explaining and it might be easier if we have this little chat face-to-face, if you get my meaning.”

There’s the telltale snick of the lock disengaging, and then the door swings open, revealing Jamie, brandishing a broom like a weapon. A thin line of blood is trickling down the side of his neck, saturating the collar of his shirt.

God, but he looks so young, with lanky arms and legs that he hasn’t quite grown into. His face is still soft with baby fat, and his hair is longer than Ted’s ever seen it, falling over his forehead in dark waves.

“I only opened the door ‘cause I can’t understand you with that stupid American accent,” Jamie says. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it, swear down.”

“Whoa there, buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. Why don’t we set that broom down, huh?” Ted suggests, holding his hands out placatingly.

Jamie doesn’t move— in fact, he tights his grip on the handle, staring at Ted distrustfully.

“Or not— hey, I can work with that. You ever see that movie Alice in Wonderland?”

Jamie’s face twists up in confusion. “Mate, what the fuck are you on about?”

“Nevermind,” Ted says, waving dismissively. “I don’t know why I started with that. Bad metaphor. Anyway, long story short, you used to be an adult, but then adult-you drank a magic potion that turned you back into a kid.”

“Oi,” Jamie barks. “M’not a fucking kid.”

“My mistake,” Ted concedes. “A distinguished young gentleman.”

Jamie looks at him with thinly veiled disgust, but at least he sets the broom down. “Are all Americans this fucking weird?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ted says. “Anyway, older-Jamie currently plays in the Premier League for AFC Richmond, and so that’s how I know your name.”

“AFC Richmond?” Jamie asks, miming a gagging noise. “Jesus, why? Did they get rid of Man City, or something?”

“Oh, no, Manchester City is still a thing,” Ted assures him. “You had your reasons for coming here instead, though. We can get into that later, but first I think we ought to get that bump on the back of your head looked at.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jamie says. “Hey, uh, was that really Roy Kent in the changing room?”

There’s a curious inflection in Jamie’s voice when he says Roy’s name— like he normally adds the in front of it, like The Roy Kent. “Uh oh,” Ted says. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fanboy.”

“No,” Jamie bluffs, in the way that all teenage boys do when you accuse them of having a special interest. His cheeks flush immediately, though, giving him away. “Well, I mean, I’ll watch his matches if they come on the TV, but like. It’s football, you know? Of course, I’m gonna fucking watch it.”

When Ted fails to say anything, Jamie coughs awkwardly. “I mean, like, he’s a pretty good player. Objectively, or whatever. Like, that’s what I’ve heard other people say.”

“Mhmm,” Ted agrees, struggling to hide his grin.

Jamie sighs, giving up the façade altogether. “Actually— yeah, I’m kind of his biggest fan. I have a poster of ‘im and everything. Do you think he’d sign something for me?”

“Buddy,” Ted says, “if you come and see the doctor with me, I’ll get him to sign whatever you want.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asks. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Who, little old me? I’m the coach around these parts, but you—” Ted points to Jamie, “—can call me Ted.”

“Holy shit, you’re the gaffer?” Jamie says, disbelieving. “Man, football has changed.”

“Hm, yeah. So, what do you say? We got a deal?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jamie says, still looking a little shell-shocked.

“Awesome!” Ted shouts, pumping his fist. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Patching Jamie up doesn’t take long; he sits on the treatment table and follows the doctor’s instructions obediently. The cut doesn’t need stitches, luckily, but it still needs to be cleaned and bandaged. In the meantime, Ted unlocks his phone and shoots Roy a text:

Found Jamie. He’s fine, send everyone home

And then, remembering his deal with Jamie:

You mind stopping by the treatment room on your way out?

Roy likes the message but otherwise doesn’t respond.

He arrives a couple of minutes later, just as the doctor is putting the final touches on the bandages wrapped around Jamie’s head. “It’s a little bruised, so I’d recommend icing it when you get home,” the doctor tells Ted. “He’s also got a concussion, but you don’t need me to explain how that works, so I’m heading out. Have a good day, everyone. And for the record, this is so weird.” Then she packs up her supplies and leaves.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” Roy asks.

“Jamie wanted to ask you something,” Ted tells him, looking at Jamie entreatingly.

“Traitor,” Jamie hisses. “You said you’d ask him.”

“Don’t twist my words, young man,” Ted says firmly. “I said I’d make him do it if he told you no.”

“Oi, nobody is making me do anything,” Roy interrupts. “Hypothetically, though, what am I supposed to be doing?”

Ted continues to look at Jamie pointedly, who averts his gaze and scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor. He mumbles something, low and quiet.

“Fucking what?” Roy barks.

Jamie snaps his head up, glaring at Roy furiously. “I said, can I please have your autograph?”

“Well, fuck, why didn’t you just say so,” Roy says, whipping a pen out of his pocket. “What am I signing?”

Jamie’s face shifts from anger to surprise, like he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Uh, I don’t know. I ain’t go anything on me,” he says sheepishly.

“How about this?” Ted suggests, holding up an old receipt he’d dug out from one of his pockets. Roy shrugs and gestures for it, and then spreads it flat on his thigh so he can sign it. “How’d you hit your head, anyway? Run into a fucking wall or something?” Roy asks casually, uncapping the pen.

“Roughing about with me mates,” Jamie replies instantly, and Roy’s hand freezes. It’s eerie, Ted thinks, how practiced that response sounds. The worst part is, it’s actually a pretty decent excuse, and it probably would’ve worked on anyone else, but after two years with Jamie, Ted is pretty familiar with his nervous tics, and one of them is the way he runs a thumb along his eyebrow when he’s lying. Which he is currently doing, the offending appendage still picking absentmindedly at the thin hair along his brow.

And if Ted picked up on it, then Roy, who spends practically every hour of the day with Jamie, absolutely noticed it.

“Wanna try that again?” Roy asks evenly, finishing his signature.

“Eh?” Jamie asks.

“You fuck with your eyebrows when you’re lying,” Roy says. “You’re doing it right now, which means you just lied straight to my fucking face.”

Jamie snatches his hand away from his forehead like he’s been burned. “How the fuck do you know that?” he asks.

“I’m your best fucking friend, you muppet,” Roy bites back. “I know lots of things about you. For example, I know that your dad’s a fucking deadbeat, who doesn’t deserve you, and I also know he likes to knock you about, so I’m willing to bet everything that I own that he’s the reason you’re bleeding out the back of your head right now. Am I wrong?”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jamie hisses. “I don’t know what adult-me told you, but he’s fucking lying. About all of it!”

“He didn’t have to tell me shit, because I saw it with my own two eyes,” Roy roars back. “That’s how I know it was your fucking dad, because you only fucking lie for him!”

“So what if it was? It doesn’t fucking matter, man! Why are you making such a big deal about it?” Jamie shouts back, and then immediately bursts into tears.

Roy sighs, like the sight of tears is enough to immediately drain the fight out of him. Ted finds it amazing, how quickly these two can wind each other up and then let it all go. “It does matter, Jamie, because you don’t deserve to be treated like that,” Roy says quietly, and then wraps Jamie up in a hug.

“This is fucking humiliating,” Jamie sobs into Roy’s shoulder. “You’re like, my hero. I’m not supposed to be crying, I had so many questions I wanted to ask, and—”

“Stop,” Roy commands. “Look, we’ll go get ice cream or something, and then you can ask all the stupid fucking questions you want.”

Jamie leans back, still sniffling. “Really?”

“Yes, you little prick,” Roy says fondly. If Ted were a romantic, he might call his tone fond. “Come on then, up you get,” he says and helps Jamie off the table.

“Lasso, you’re with us,” he barks when Ted fails to follow them down the hallway. Ted scurries to catch up.

“Ope, my bad. Looks like I misread the situation there, fellows. I thought this was just gonna be a Roy-and-Jamie event—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yup.”

(And if the next day, after Jamie turns back, he hangs the signed receipt up in his locker, nobody says a word.)

(Also, nobody touches anything on Beard’s desk, magic potion or otherwise, ever again.)

#whumptober 2023 #no. 4 #“you in there?”#ted lasso #fic #referenced child abuse #jamie tartt #roy kent #afc richmond #sad jamie tartt #hurt jamie tartt #age regression #de aging #hurt/comfort #angst #happy ending #Jamie Tartt is literally Roy Kent's biggest fan

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sedehaven · 2 years

Text

MVP

Quarterback, dead on the field. Aged sixteen years, two months, six days. Mitral valve prolapse.

Footfalls hard in soft turf, grass reaching for ankles thumbing green noses at regulation length.

Scent of boysweat, metal tang in young mouths.

Silver whistle trill– shrieking scrimmage.

Boys line up, quarterback laughs at fullback’s joke song about sweaty balls.

Calls the play, pauses, looks at the empty sky, feels the cool fingers brushing the meat

of his heart.

Falls to the soft green of the uncut grass, falls in pieces. A toddler’s first

steps. First day of kindergarten, a head taller than the rest of his class. First kiss,

unsure, in a closet, on a dare. The lab report he hadn’t finished. His mother’s face exploding

into stars, fading into the deep dark that lives beyond the stars. Little sister’s scream from cheer

practice. Father’s words rising like a cloud of monarchs – orange and black –

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Everything between him and the blue of the sky fades to dust motes, and he is rising

past butterflies, past screams, and stars. To the place beyond.

-- S. E. De Haven

#mitral valve prolapse #poetry #spilled ink #inkstay #poetryriot #writerscreed #poem #poets on tumblr #twcpoetry #lit

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the-firebird69 · 19 days

Text

High speed chase caught on video in Abilene Texas | #police

This happened this morning and it was Trump and he ran right into a truck and it was his son's truck they're both in critical care yeah they got creamed and they usually don't get hurt that bad but between the combined speed and the fact that the were not wearing seat belts cause them to have a lot of trauma Trump has a broken neck broken chest bones a broken spleen punctured lung his heart was compressed his head went out the windshield and it was partially decapitated and his legs are broken in 20 places for real he hit the driver's side and same with Dan no show me a truck with his ankle was crushed and his left leg has 10 broken bones or broken in 10 places and his hip is broken in one place and his left arm is broken in two places his neck is broken and three places his eyeballs exploded and part of his brain was damaged from sprain was damaged from the impact and they're both practically alive just barely and it's in Texas and they've been shouting their mouth off and it didn't work very good for them we think they might be there for a few days at the current rate and they are getting rid of tons of them the trumpsters I'm going fast very fast what they're doing was running from the cops and Dave was going to intercept the cops but he hit his father instead now they're trying to catch him and the rain right into it so they hate each other now and they hate each other for a long time but now it's real and they are out and their teams are there fighting each other tons of people going to come in and kill them and take them and probably clean out the whole area Texas and Arizona New Mexico price of Mexico it's all going to get sucked in there and they're all going to use it for the creatures 20 miles away or less it's going to be huge this is huge news

Thor Freya

And we use the siren and they didn't get out of the way no we're using the siren and they sped up and we wanted to pull over and he would not and I had a plan to dust us off so going after the both of them his clothes and Dan's clones

David Bamman's

I think these people are huge assholes and see Trump guy and his son in a terrible people and I was there I saw it happen I could not believe my eyes when the idiot was crawling out with his head half attached that was gross and he says he thinks Dan's here and you might be he wasn't as badly beat up I checked and it's not the truck is just there but it's tough because sometimes he's there and you don't want to do it or say it really. So they're out there and they're jerks all their people started coming in we had to flee and they're fighting each other and boy these guys are close his head is partially attached and he is moving around and giving orders to people and his head is it was gross it was like halfway and he's using hand signals and finally asked someone to fix him he's a pig that guy is a moron and he needs to go away honest to God he needs to die I had to talk on the phone with him after a meeting that I thought went well and he turns into this other person I don't really need this s*** we don't carry for your excuses and stuff I'd say because you're arguing with a child and saying it's him and who cares you get him mad you should stay away if you get mad that easy and you won't and really something's got to be our responsibility in our way so he has this huge and see they could have died easily just don't tell me what happens to your head that can squish in an accident like that and the conspired against the sky before and he says stuff and he's doing stuff and he's trying to go after him and they shot him in the green zone and he's going after them now and it's very ugly it's going to get much worse they're going to be going after him until it happens and then Las Vegas where his brain gets blown out and we don't feel too bad for him he's an ugly person he's mean he's dangerous he's saying it all day here and all night and I'll tell you it's annoying s*** too what they're saying is provoking stuff it's very mean and this guy is Young and he says you're nuts I'm a young guy and I'm in veteran that's pretty much s******* all over me expecting something and people spend their whole lives many people like you off using killing you and the guy didn't listen and really they're dying fast I don't feel bad for them but there's a lot of people who are valuable who he's ruined and this guy has fear because of that and they're valuable as hell and Trump is not and I'll tell you there's nothing driving here but him and he is trying to like shoes and threaten it's lousy at schmoozing and threatening he's trying to squeeze you anyway and she doesn't do the back work doesn't have people doing stuff and it comes out like is this obnoxious rap and there's no deals either I noticed that our friend even does that he says I need this but I can do some of these things and it's not illegal and nobody wants to do anything it sounds like and I found this guy offending everybody off and yet he can't form up a deal at all with the bank account and it's really weird I mean his way is out of it and stuff for me but when I get into it there's nothing in it for me. You're not saying it too so what do I get of it myself they just have to watch you put money in and take it out and use it for whatever big deal so what is it different account you loser so that's probably going to happen and other stuff going on here and we do hear about it so the guy some people around here are pigs and said they put it decaying squirrel stuff on his male and with a tooth and the q-tip is not discolored so we're going to go after him for it let me know who it is and what he says is this is you right there and Trump got it this morning and he's saying I don't really care for it I don't care for it but I make it happen to you because of your stupid f****** s*** with me you can talk all your way all over the place wind up in Timbuktu I've had it with you dumb assholes it's the last one last month of your lives

He said in family members up to get hurt and it kind of shows something he is done and we don't want to deal with him anymore and we want them out I've had enough time talking about this to know I don't want to talk about it anymore I'm tired of looking at the guy talking to him or hearing him I don't want to go near him I am so sick of the stupid laundromat scene I can't believe how dumb it is so it's time for a change it really is we got to get this guy off the ballot who cares if I can get in kind of saved everybody and he has a small team and Trump is just continuously about everyone and he's evil the guy is a piece of s*** he said he's a dirtbag and he's a slime ball is really a street person her friend said it really is my nephew he said he's a street person and he needs to be on the street and it's true he needs to get the hell out of here so kind of sick of him we are moving on to another topic pretty soon and we will be getting notices out that he is evicted and I'm sure he'll turn it up but who cares it's going after us for no reason right now and I can't afford it I tell you I don't want that guy nearest and so darn mean and nasty and evil he's really mean to our friend here I don't know if people notice and you have to listen he's extremely mean to him I go out there and everything is this mathematical nightmare and it's because of this guy Sam AKA Trump he is a horror show there's there's nothing that he won't say to piss people off or have said by someone else and he is gross he's paying people that do stupid things I want him off the docket I want him off the payroll I want him out of the news everybody should it's really disgusting

Governor Ron DeSantis

Olympus we do believe that he is saying this we suggested his constituents check with him he does not want to support Trump and he has very solid reasons to he's been threatened a lot by him

0 notes

intherainbowfactory · 1 year

Text

The Rainbow Factory: Escape chapter (?★/??)

After taking part in the mad stampede of foals out of the schoolhouse, the Cutie Mark Crusaders sat at one of the bench tables in the shade.

"Wasn't that pretty cool?" Scootaloo was looking off in the distance with her chin grinding on her hooves. Off in a world of her own.

"Air control to Scootaloo! ("Huh?")" Sweetie Belle opened up her fashionable lunchbox and tore off the lid of a yogurt cup with telekinesis. "Sheesh! I knew that would wake you up," she smiled as she shot the yogurt into her mouth magically, making a big mess around her. Scootaloo wasn't affected, since she expected Sweetie Belle to do that (Show-off!) and could duck down in her seat across from Sweetie Belle to shield herself from the blast. Apple Bloom, however, was seated on Sweetie Belle's right and preoccupied with her construction worker-grade lunchbox, and took the full force of the yogurt explosion.

She licked her lips. "Mm-mm! Purple huckleberries! My favorite!" she exclaimed. They all giggled at that...

... Something feels wrong. Oh, yeah!

"Wait, what's 'air control', Sweets? Some type of pegasus force?"

"Yer not all wrong," Apple Bloom stated in bemusement, huckleberry still on most of her face. Sweetie Belle wiped off her own face with a red fabric handkerchief. Scootaloo's orange coat was untouched. Sweetie Belle took on a poised pose with her hoof raised, eyes closed, and smile present before kindly explaining to her friend, "That guy that was in there from the Rainbow Factory talked about it when he answered Snips's question. From the top of the spiraling tower in the middle of the Rainbow Factory, they direct the pegasuses ("Pegasi!" Apple Bloom interjected, coat now clean and naturally yellow with some help from the ornate green handkerchief Sweetie Belle floated over to her as well. "Whatever...") They direct the pegasi to fly the rainbows out all over the world super fast to make people happy and make peace."

"Ahh man! I totally should have paid more attention to that part..."

"What were y'all doin'? Playin' with yer tail?" Apple Bloom drawled with an innocent look.

"Heh heh... Just spacin' off, y'know?" Scootaloo replied with an embarrassed grin and an uncomfortable shoulder shrug.

"Aw, horseapples, Scoots, we-all already know y'love rainbows! Ya practically mob Rainbow Dash ta ask fer auto-graphs every time ya see her!"

"Dude, c'mon you can't embarrass me like this!" Scootaloo whined goodnaturedly, and changed the subject. "I mean, at least I'm not the one who explodes a cup of yogurt every day at lunch now for like, what," she turned to Sweetie Belle, "five days?"

"Ah yeah! What'n tarnation'rya even thinking doin' that all the time???" Apple Bloom growled. Sweetie Belle was looking absently at her muffin, wondering if Rainbow Dash was related to Rainbow Dust.

"Earth control ta' Sweetie Belle!"

"Huh? Oh, heh! Rarity has been teaching me it for a good while now. Apparently, when ponies get to be our age, their magic starts really coming into their own. ("Their own what?") Unicorns get magic magic, earth ponies get... earth magic, and pegasi get, y'know, air magic."

"Ooh! Ah got that talk from Applejack, too! Look!" Apple Bloom held up her lunchbox from earlier. Opening it up, there was a little sapling inside, nestled in too much dirt for a food receptacle. It was kind of leafy, but kind of gray, and a little cracked and dry.

"What?" the others chorused. Scootaloo followed the thread first. "Was that just in there without sunlight for the whole day? They're not meant to do that..."

Apple Bloom shrugged. "Well, ah know ah could take care of it through the day. Applejack tol' me, and showed me, that ah could use my earth pony magic to grow apples from trees! So ah got this one to practice on here! Ah kinda like how it survives and thrives away from the world. Oh yeah, please don't tell mah family! They wouldn't like it."

Scootaloo was thinking about her own magic. She thought about her parents.

... She was starting to feel uneasy. Just where did she fit in here, anyway...?

Scootaloo decided then and there that she would get cool magic, too! She turned to Apple Bloom and stated her mind. "I'm gonna get cool magic of my own! Oh, first, let's see you make an apple grow!"

"Boy howdy! Let's get to it!" Apple Bloom gently pushed her hooves into the dirt around the sapling and took deep breaths. Five seconds in, five seconds hold, five seconds out, five seconds hold. Over and over. After the other fillies were starting to grow bored, some movement perked up in the modest leafy sapling.

"Oooooh!" Sweetie Belle sung. "It's blooming, Apple Bloom." The bow-haired filly nodded her head vigorously for a moment, continuing to massage the earth and breathe in her routine. "There's a flower blooming at the tip!" And there was, and it was starting to weigh down the little sap. Scootaloo couldn't shake off the feeling that this wasn't supposed to be happening. She felt unnervingly like events were slipping out of her control. She felt like bigger things than her were rushing around her head in circles. She couldn't watch. She closed her eyes with her hooves and flattened her ears. "Something's growing!" Something was wrong. Something was going very, very wrong. But worst of all? It didn't feel bad. The wrong was good, pure. And that was wrong, too. But still good.

"WOW! Just look at it, Scoots!"

"Huh, ah wasn't 'spectin' that..."

Scootaloo peeked out from her hooves.

"It's blue!"

A blue apple was weighing down the sapling. Sweetie Belle snatched it from the tree (gently!) and took a bite. "Mmmm! It tastes pretty good, Bloom!"

"Well, it's kind of a bad omen for an apple to be blue, but..." Sweetie Belle proffered it to Apple Bloom, who took a bite. "Huh! Kinda sweet! (Not as sweet as the ---- apple, but... ...)"

Scootaloo snuck a bite.

It tasted bitter.

#foreboding #destiny #color theory #my little pony #rainbow factory #rainbow factory: escape #the rainbow factory #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #first draft #written today #angst #oc #original content #anachronistic #2

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starglitterz · 3 years

Note

yo hi hello!!

so uh for the 300 followers event-

can i get a chocolate pudding(xiao) with caramel!

(like a modern streamer au can be your game of choice but i feel like xiao would play fps games like valorant)

oh and ignore this if you feel overwhelmed with the request and make sure to take a break and take care of yourself once in a while!!

-Luca hehe

hi !!!! for now i'm doing fine hehe, but thank u luca for being so nice :>

request; xiao fluff, modern streamer au

cw; swearing, mentions of in-game weapons/shooting/killing

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

xiao.

xiao's catlike amber eyes flicker back and forth from the open corners of the concealed area his character is hidden in to the spike, which is bound to explode anytime soon. "xiao, childe's headed your way, watch out! i'm protecting this sector," hu tao's loud voice booms through his headphones, and he grumbles, "that stupid ginger really can't just leave me alone, can he?" the chat in his stream goes wild to hear the normally calm streamer cursing, and his viewers eagerly spam messages about how excited they are to be impressed by his incredible aim once more.

childe, who's playing as phoenix, rounds the corner, only to be met with xiao, who's already raised his weapon to shoot. without losing a hint of his composure, xiao fires off a couple rounds, and the headshot icon appears in the corner, eliminating tartaglia from the final round. shaking his head, xiao can't stop the small proud smile that spreads across his face, "if tartaglia actually planned where he was going, he might have won." a second later, the word 'victory' is splayed across his screen in muted green tones as hu tao lets out a gleeful cheer, "haha, i killed zhongli! we win!" "good job, hu tao," xiao compliments her, running a hand through his teal streaked hair. the chat seems to be sending messages at the speed of light, all of them claiming they're taking as many screenshots as possible, and complaining about how they wished they were lucky enough to play competition with him.

"do you want to end the stream here?" xiao asks, tilting his head quizzically and looking at the other girl. "yupp, yanfei's already offline too, she said she has work so she won't be able to join us," hu tao pouts. "ah, then i guess we won't be able to play with a full team. so i might just mess around a bit more, practice my aim in death match mode," xiao states, "it's only around 2am anyways." with a wink, hu tao giggles, "xiao, don't you have someone waiting for you~? you should go to sleep too." through his webcam, xiao sends her the most terrifying death stare ever - it's what his fanbase says is strong enough to conquer demons.

"alright, alright, i'll stop teasing you," hu tao raises her hands in playful surrender. with a salute to her camera, she beams, "don't forget to subscribe if you liked the stream! if not, i might have to put you in a coffin~" laughing to herself, hu tao waves at xiao before disconnecting from the call, her webcam in the corner of the screen disappearing. xiao sighs, leaning back in his chair. blowing a few strands of hair out of his face, he says, "that was pretty fun. hope you guys enjoyed it, by the way." he scans over the chat comments, eyes widening as he realises most of them are asking about what hu tao said earlier. "someone waiting for me...? oh. just ignore hu tao, she tends to spout a lot of nonsense anyway," xiao says, although he's unable to look directly at the camera.

'shy xiao?!' the viewers freak out, everyone spamming about how cute he looks. pale pink dusts his cheeks as he prepares to return to the game, "thank you all. but stop it, okay, i've got to focus now." suddenly, a soft knock sounds on the door behind him, and xiao, who is usually as cool as a cucumber, nearly falls off his chair. the chat goes feral, begging people to clip that part, laughing at xiao's antics, and asking if he's alright. someone even sends a donation that reads 'for the hospital bills if ur injured'. xiao straightens up, pretending as if he isn't embarrassed, "thank you for the donation, but i doubt i'll need it. i'm fine. anyways, i have to see who this is, so i'm going to mute my mic and turn off my camera for a while. just wait a couple of minutes, alright?" the next move should have been xiao doing what he said he was going to, but he was so eager to open the door that he didn't click the correct icons properly, ending up with his mic unmuted and his camera left on while he answered. messages in the chat kept going, wondering if it was on purpose, and querying how they should let him know. however, xiao didn't notice, because as one of the most popular streamers on twitch, his chat was always moving at lightning speed.

"xiao~" your voice is drowsy as you shuffle into the room, his hoodie far too big on your figure. xiao swallows, his brain short-circuiting as he takes in how adorable you look, "y/n! are you okay?" "when are you coming to sleep? i miss you," you raise a hand to rub your sleepy eyes, the sleeves of the hoodie covering your fists. xiao's expression softens, the gentle smile he reserves for you and you alone curving his lips, "c'mere. do you wanna cuddle?" you nod once before yawning, prompting him to chuckle softly. ambling over to him, you clamber onto his lap, burying your head in his neck and exhaling a sigh of relief. "sorry for interrupting your stream," you murmur, already feeling slumber overtake you. "don't worry about it, dove. you're more important anyway," xiao states, trying not to blush about your close proximity to him. the two of you have been dating for over a year now, but your touch never fails to get his heart racing as quick as when he first met you. "i've got to continue streaming now, but i'll try to be quiet for you, mmkay?" your only reply is a muffled "okay, love you," as you doze off again in his embrace. with his heart threatening to explode from the tender affection, xiao presses a kiss on the top of your head, "love you too, y/n."

"okay guys, i'm back. hope the wait wasn't too long." he returns to his regular distant streamer façade, pausing when he realises his mic was unmuted. "oh, fuck," the swear escapes under his breath. praying to every deity he ever knew, xiao looks up at the ceiling, massaging his temples, "please tell me you guys did not see or hear that." unfortunately for him, the chat confesses the exact opposite, and they start sending a million questions, causing xiao to groan. sparing a glance to the chat, xiao admits, "this is my significant other, my partner, my other half, whatever you want to call it - we're together, and we've been dating for quite some time now. they don't wish to be known publicly, so please respect their wishes and don't try to find them online." xiao's fanbase was one of the most well-conducted fandoms in comparison to the rest, like childe's, whose chat was constantly filled with barking and bad pick-up lines, so he was hoping they'd behave this time as well. "uh, i'm not really sure what to say here... so i guess i'll just continue playing," he mutters.

for the next hour, xiao continues streaming valorant and interacting peaceably with his chat, albeit in low tones so that you won't stir. and a clip from this stream that goes viral and causes his fans to scream for weeks was of how when someone in the chat complimented you, xiao's grip around you tightened slightly with pride and possessiveness as he smiled, "i know. i'm lucky to be theirs."

quill speaks !

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG KAJDKJAJKD THIS REQUEST WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND I LOVEEEE IT PLSPLSPLS ITS SO CUTE!??!?!

xiao calling u dove *screams into the abyss*

HELLO THERE R NO WORDS

i am going to cry forever over this its literally my favourite thing ive written pls xiao marry me im RIGHT HERE ARGHHHHH

did i diss the childe stans? yes i did, and i'd do it again ! /lh

ok anyways

i actually have a genshin youtuber au smau coming up soon! possibly in the end of july after i finish all the event requests & my exams SDKSK im super excited, but im not going to tell yall who it's for/what the plot is yet bc its going to be a surprise ahaha >:)

i hope u had fun reading this !

and i also hope you enjoy your stay at quill’s dessert cafe, and do check out the menu if you'd like ! 🍭

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3rdgymbros · 3 years

Text

— title; when is a monster not a monster? (oh, when you love it).

— pairing; zhongli x reader

— summary; in which zhongli loses control and turns into a dragon, but you manage to bring him back.

— notes; i don’t play genshin, so i hope it’s not too ooc !! special thanks to @yuebloom and @degenerate-yandere and @teyvatstories for their support !! if anyone is interested, the song referenced in this fic is called asking the zither and can be found here !!

Screaming.

The sound that sears itself into your ears is like nothing you've never heard before, the hoarse scream of an enraged animal that vibrates through your whole body, scraping over your skin like claws.

With much effort, you finally manage to open your eyes. It's excruciating. Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead. Squinting against the sudden light, you try to sit up, but can only groan as your body erupts into joint-wrenching pains. Your face is wet, and dampness runs down into your collar.

"Ow." You say; at least, that's what you try to say. It comes out as more of an indistinct moan. You have to resist the urge to sink back into that suffocating blackness, somewhere far away, where the pain can't reach you. "Where –"

Another scream. Closer this time. Sounding almost human. Wearily, you raise your head, push yourself onto hands and knees; there’s pain in each of your ribs, one by one, like a xylophone breaking as it plays.

Wind rips at your robes and branches fly by. Dirt and bits of grass are rising and dancing chaotically as though enchanted. Trees fall with a shudder that shakes the earth. A deafening roar sounds above your head, and you look up, amazed, to see a dragon, his silhouette dark against the sun. His scales are a dark, burnished shade of brown, his eyes and horns and spinal plates a bright, vivid amber. The dragon throws back his head and screams, blowing out golden flames with his next exhale.

Even as far away as you are, you can still feel the searing heat, washing over your face, and bringing with it memories, roaring through your mind with vicious velocity. You remember falling to the ground in a bloodied heap, burgundy poison staining your robes. You remember hearing an awful, strangled cry from Rex Lapis, as though he had been the one in pain. And then – nothing.

Staring at the dragon's familiar amber eyes, it isn't so hard to surmise what had happened, how things had taken the worst possible turn.

Now, as a dragon, Rex Lapis has single-handedly managed to turn the tides of battle. Archons and humans alike are turning and fleeing, a mass exodus intent on escaping from this unstoppable force of nature. The dragon lands on the scorched earth, unleashing flames and teeth and claws. You watch his head crane around at the end of that long serpentine neck, watch as his tail lashes sideways and catches a man making his escape, breaking him in two. You have to choke back the urge to vomit, swallowing back your own fear. Blood, and sticky smoke clings to you.

“Rex Lapis!” You scream, unsure if he can hear you. “REX LAPIS!”

His head turns. Smoke rises between his teeth. He sweeps his tail again, sending up a choking storm of dust and sand. You stumble into the cloud of darkness and smoke with a cough. He snaps, flashing razor sharp teeth and claws. The black teeth close inches away from your face.

No, you want to say. Not me, no, no, don't you remember me?

Your chest constricts tightly, practically squeezing your throat shut with panic. The sand is in your eyes now. Stinging, blinding, filling them with tears. Stumbling back, you tumble to the ground once again. Your back and head absorb the brunt of the landing. Warmth drips down your cheeks. You aren't sure if it’s blood, sweat, tears, or a mixture of all three fluids.

Rex Lapis roars, a sound of fury, daring anyone to challenge him. The sound fills your ears. A furnace wind engulfs you. The dragon’s long scaled neck stretches out towards you. His eyes are molten. Panic shivers up your spine. Your mouth is dry, no matter how often you swallow, but you can't – don't dare to – look away.

For the first time in your life, you're scared of Rex Lapis.

He's known to all as the God of War, and you've lost count of the number of times he's personally brought his enemies to their end, but he's always treated you with a guarded tenderness, and you've never felt anything but safe in his presence, as though nothing else in the world had existed but you and him.

Now, Rex Lapis roars full in your face, his breath hot enough to blister skin.

"Rex Lapis." You choke out, barely able to catch your breath. Ash and cinders scorch your throat. “Rex Lapis. It’s [ NAME ]. You remember me, right?”

In the smoldering pits of his eyes, you can see your own reflection. How small you look, how weak and frail and scared. Rex Lapis is looking at you, but he isn’t seeing you. As if sensing danger, your skin prickles, power calling to you. It buzzes through your heart and mind. You imagine vines and thorns erupting from the ground, the green tendrils consuming everyone and everything in their path. For an instant, you think about ending the battle. Enough blood has been shed. You're tired of fighting. You could do it; it would even be easy. But then you look into those eyes, lakes of molten gold, and a lead weight settles upon your shoulders. Your heart gives up, exploding, bursting like a balloon.

Not on him, you think. You can't hurt him. Not when he’s like this; scared, in pain, reeling.

Rex Lapis roars again, the sound full of fear and fury, full of pain. His teeth snap at you, inches away from your face.

“REX LAPIS!”

The dragon jerks his head back.

“Stop!”

Behind a fence of sharp black teeth you glimpse a furnace glow, the shimmer of a sleeping fire. Wisps of smoke spiral upward from the dragon’s nostrils. You can barely see through your tears, but you stare at Rex Lapis until he meets your gaze again. Your legs are quivering, but you fear that if you turn and run now, he truly will be lost to you.

“It’s okay. Rex Lapis, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you, so please –” You can't finish as your voice breaks, and you're reduced to coughing, trying to clear the sobs caught in your throat. You've expected the terror to abate at your words, or your heart to stop shattering, but it doesn't. It just makes it worse. "Please –"

Please come back.

Come back to me.

His long serpentine neck bends like an archer’s bow, preparing to rain down hellfire again. You swallow past the fear, past the lump of waterworks wedged deep in your throat.

"I used to sing to you. In the gardens, in the afternoons. When you were taking your tea." You say, quietly, quietly, even as something in the pit of your stomach falls away. "Do you remember?"

The dragon looks at you, his gaze lingering for the span of three long heartbeats. You think you see a flicker of awareness. Brief, but it's there.

It feels as though all the air has been squeezed out of your lungs, but still, you sing. You owe it to him, to this god who extended his hand to you in friendship, who offered you warmth and companionship and protection, a home to call your own. Your voice is soft, softer than you've ever heard it.

The night is tender, cold springs ripple. Memories surface in my reflections. I play a song, you smile once more in my dreams.

The words are like a silk shawl, light and cool. You can smell wild roses, fresh-cut hay, bonfires. Grass springs up between your toes, and the earth warms beneath the soles of your feet.

Yours is the only voice that you can hear, the shouts and screams and the world falling away into nothing. Nothing exists except for this, except for your song, the rawness of your throat, pushing the words and a shaky melody out into the still, warm air.

And the dragon listens.

He bends his dark head, and with a last hiss, coils himself around your body like a great serpent, resting his head upon your lap. You can feel him relax, feel him sinking into the earth and into you. His scales are hot to the touch, like armor left too long in the sun.

Still, you continue singing, gentle and reassuring as your hands stroke over his scales, tracing the ragged grooves of his horns. You wish for your touch to be enough, for your voice to bring him back. The dragon slips away from you with a deep exhalation.

You're still holding him close, until long after the sun sets, when the glossy dark scales have melted away, and Rex Lapis lies upon your lap, a man once more.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli headcanons #zhongli reader inserts #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact reader insert #genshin reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #♥ || sam writes.#;; hahahahah the more i stare the worse it gets

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wolferine · 3 years

Text

Heart Skips a Beat

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1276

Even with your respirator, you still have a hard time seeing through the smoky air. You carefully wade through the uneven piles of debris while dodging the ceiling beams and cables hanging down like vines. Steve assigned you to search the 3rd floor of the 12-floor condominium, but so far, you haven’t located a single living person.

“Hello? Anyone out there?” you call. With your enhanced hearing, you hear something shuffle in the rubble. A hand pokes out, bloody and white with dust.

“Here!” a feminine voice responds.

“I’m coming!” You leap over holes ten-feet wide and balance on beams thinner than a windowsill to reach them. You kneel to brush some dirt aside and find a young woman lying beneath a large ceiling panel. You click the microphone button on your collar and tell your team, “I got a live one on the third floor.”

“So bring them down,” Clint responds.

“I was just getting to that, thank you for the suggestion.” You grab the ceiling panel and toss it aside, offering a hand to the woman. She accepts but cries out as you pull her to her feet. There’s a piece of rebar, nearly as long as your arm, skewered straight through her calf.

“Hold on, it’s okay.” You remove a tourniquet from your pocket and cinch it around her upper thigh. “Let me carry you. I’ll get us out of here.” You gently pick her up bridal-style and retrace your footsteps. Her arms wrap around your neck as she clings to you like her life depends on it.

Then you remember that the staircase had long ago crumbled, and you’d gotten up here by climbing. There was no way you were getting down the same way.

“Um, wait, I didn’t think this through,” you admit to the woman, but she’s in too much shock to catch your joke. “Hey, guys,” you address your team again, “There’s no staircase for us—”

“So jump.” Natasha’s voice crackles in your earpiece and you smile.

“You are all so very helpful today.” You look around to find an alternate route. Two stories down, part of the floor is still intact. You had used it as a platform to jump up to the third floor—it should be able to take your weight coming down, right?

“Hey,” you say to the woman in your arms, “There’s no stairs, so I’m gonna have to jump. Just hold on to me and don’t look down, okay? I won’t drop you.”

She nods and tucks her head against your chest. You tighten your hold on her and take three great steps, pushing off into the unknown. You land on your feet harder than expected, but your enhanced bones take the impact in stride. From there, it’s just a simple path through the rubble back to the street.

“I’ve got a live one!” you shout, and paramedics rush towards you with a gurney. “She’s got some rebar through her leg, so be careful with her.”

“We got her,” the paramedics assure, helping you set her on the gurney.

“You’re gonna be okay,” you promise the woman, patting her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her hand lingering a little too long across your chest.

“You take care of yourself now.” You wave as the paramedics roll her away, then turn around and see Natasha walking towards you with an expression of jealousy. “What?” you ask, removing your respirator and wiping sweat off your forehead.

“Did you have to carry her like that?” Natasha says.

“Carry her like what?” you respond. “She had some rebar in her leg, Nat, I was just trying to—”

“We’re in public. You need to be professional.”

“No, you’re just jealous.” You step towards her, close enough to see the flecks of brown in her swirling green eyes. “Because I carry you like that to our bed all the time—”

“Don’t lead her on like that, you’re never gonna see her again.” Natasha steps back, but you see the blush in her cheeks and the twitch of a smile on her lips.

“I’m just doing my job,” you say. “Besides, I’m already in love with someone else.” You reach for her hand and squeeze it gently.

“Looks like Y/N found the last live one.” Steve comes up behind Natasha, his face streaked with soot and his hair matted just like yours.

“Perfect. So, we’re done here, right?” you say.

“Not just yet. We’re still not sure what caused the collapse—”

“Oh, come on, Steve, you know how these building owners are,” you interrupt. “They cut a bunch of corners, don’t build up to code, and then the whole thing comes down at the slightest—” Natasha shuts you up with a glare.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” she asks.

“Could be a while. There you are, Barton.” Clint falls into place next to you.

“Well, if we’re here long enough, maybe we can hit up the nightclubs,” you say, throwing a glance at Natasha, but she doesn’t look at you. “Or, we can get some shawarma. That’s always a fan favorite.”

“Y/N.” Clint clears his throat.

“Sorry.” Sometimes you go a little too far, but that’s just how you are. Doing your line of work isn’t easy or normal, and you always try to keep things fun and light.

“We can celebrate after we’ve got this mess sorted out,” Steve says. “So what we need to do next is—”

BOOM.

You hear two gunshots; all of you do. But you’re the only one who gets hit.

The first bullet tears through your right shoulder and it feels like you’ve been struck with an anvil. Your body jerks upward and your blood sprays across the faces of your teammates. Before you even start falling, the second bullet spirals through your lower back and you swear you feel your organs explode. You stay standing, swaying slightly. You see the expression of shock on Natasha’s face, then the blood on her cheeks. Your blood.

“Shots fired, shots fired!” Steve leaps forward and slams Clint to the ground. Clint rolls out from under him and takes cover behind a car. Steve looks back and sees Natasha still standing, looking like a deer in headlights. None of your limbs seem to work. The respirator slips from your hand and your legs finally buckle to the right. “Get down, Nat!” He pushes himself up and tackles her to the ground.

“Everybody get down!” Clint yells. Paramedics and police officers scatter, civilians run in all directions.

Your right arm cushions your head from slamming on the asphalt and you hear your heartbeat in your ringing ears. The pain is dull, an annoying background sensation, and you’re not even aware of the blood pooling beneath you. Maybe you should’ve worn your bulletproof vest, but you hadn’t planned on being shot during a rescue mission.

Natasha stares at you helplessly, watching you gasp for air. Instinctively, she tries crawling towards you, but Steve flattens his weight on her.

“Don’t move, Nat!” he orders. “Stay down!”

But she doesn’t hear him. She only sees you. She sees your eyes glaze over, your fingers clawing weakly at the ground, trying to reach out to her. She sees the blood puddle forming around your body, practically drowning you in a sea of red.

Darkness pulls at the edges of your vision, threatening to swallow you whole. Your chest flames in agony with each shallow breath you take, and the darkness becomes more and more tempting. Your eyelids flutter; you don’t have the strength to keep them open. You don’t hear Natasha screaming your name as you blank out.

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Click here for Part 2!

AN: I never thought I’d write fanfics again, but this brilliant idea popped into my head when I was watching 9-1-1 and I just had to write it. This is also the first time I’ve written a reader-insert story and one with no planned ending, so we’ll see what happens!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfiction #marvel

339 notes · View notes

cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles. “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey @chaotic-nick @manjiroarchiviste

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

261 notes · View notes

teklarn · 3 years

Note

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently.

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol, second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things.

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all.

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever.

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds.

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?”

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?”

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated.

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding.

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.”

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.”

“do you want to go back to the dorms?”

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.”

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up.

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—”

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance.

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—”

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough.

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears.

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him?

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue.

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him.

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name.

“y/n?”

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?”

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?”

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.”

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise.

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.”

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it.

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out.

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it.

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together.

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side.

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.)

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three.

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned.

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.”

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.”

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.”

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him.

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away.

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles.

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.”

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight.

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume.

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—”

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.”

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself.

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked.

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another.

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen.

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground.

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.”

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.”

“bu—”

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.”

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand.

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting.

cement flew into the air.

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots.

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder.

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest.

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya.

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park.

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question.

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement.

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost.

your head whipped around to see him charging for you.

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore.

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right?

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain.

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions.

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering.

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up.

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling.

“y/n! are you alright?”

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.”

“do you need—”

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst.

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg.

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly.

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away.

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?”

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.”

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down.

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?”

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.”

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.”

“mhm,” you agreed.

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.”

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you.

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?”

“yes, thank you recovery girl.”

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that.

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off.

“good, you’re awake.”

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!”

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage.

“what...what do you want?”

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.”

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.”

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-”

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.”

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused.

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone.

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?”

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.”

you gulped.

“so what’re you saying?”

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.”

“say it again.”

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours.

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.”

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out.

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.”

he grinned. “where to?”

228 notes · View notes

storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

tangle up the true and the fable

A/N: empires!scott and empires!jimmy have hella enemies to lovers vibes. so take enemies to hey-wait-were-we-lovers-in-a-past-life to friends. also joel and lizzie make a cameo appearance. title is from Rose by The Oh Hellos! (also reblogs > likes)

Warnings: arguing, death mention, flirting, cave-ins, cave spiders, injury, vague description of cave spider venom effects, nonchalant talk of the minecraft respawn mechanic, near death experiences, explosions, talk of past/alternate lives, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending

Summary: Jimmy doesn't understand why the ruler of Rivendell doesn't seem to like him. He supposes that going on a mining trip in Scott's mountains without asking permission doesn't exactly help matters much though. But when the two of them end up trapped in the caves, will they be able to set aside their differences to survive?

Jimmy should really start thinking before he did things. Like stealing- ahem. Borrowing some cake ingredients from Sausage, which in turn caused him to steal Jimmy's prized music disc. Or whatever was the deal with the Rivendell ruler, Scott. Jimmy wasn't sure what exactly he did to get on the elf's bad side, but Scott didn't seem to like him very much. Well... at least sometimes he seemed to hate Jimmy. Sometimes it seemed like... something else. Jimmy couldn't quite place it- maybe he did want to be best friends after all? But whatever the case, things were always a little tense between the rulers of the Cod Empire and Rivendell. And it seemed today was no exception.

He was in dire need of more materials, and the swamp wasn't very rich in caves. And Jimmy had already explored most of the caves in his empire. So while he couldn't entirely rationalize why, he decided to go on a trip to the mountains to gather materials. It was a stupid idea, going near the empire of someone who possibly hated him, but part of him hoped that he would see Scott. Maybe he could work out some sort of alliance instead of their squabbling and occasional attempts to kill each other. Besides, he wasn't going to the actual mountain Scott lived on, just the ones near his mountain. Surely that’d be far enough to not anger him, but close enough to suggest an amicable atmosphere? Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Jimmy had barely gotten deep in a cave in the mountains when Scott appeared, like he had some sort of “Jimmy-being-an-idiot” sixth sense. The elf admittedly was an imposing sight- enchanted diamond armor, an enchanted diamond axe strapped to his back, arms crossed over his chest, a golden circlet with antlers branching up from it, and blue eyes glinting with irritation. Those eyes seemed to see right through Jimmy, scrutinizing and seeing him for who he truly was. Not the Codfather, a strong leader- but a swamp boy whose sweet intentions got him into trouble more often than not.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, voice cold and unimpressed. Jimmy frowned at the elf’s tone.

“Mining,” Jimmy said simply, crossing his arms right back at Scott. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Obviously, but why are you doing so in my empire?” Scott asked pointedly.

“I’m not mining in your mountain though!” Jimmy protested, a little confused at Scott’s irritation. Scott let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on.

“Jimmy. All the mountains around here are mine,” Scott said bluntly, dropping his hand to glare at Jimmy. Well now he felt a little sheepish. But still, he didn’t understand why Scott had to get all irritated about it, maybe they could work something out. Jimmy took on an easygoing smile, causing Scott to knit his brows in confusion.

“I know I shouldn’t have been here, and I didn’t realize this mountain was part of your empire. If you want the materials I gathered, I’m more than willing to-”

“Oh, sorry about that, buddy! Tell you what, I’ll give you-”

“I’m not your buddy,” Scott said, cutting Jimmy off and causing his easy smile to melt away near instantly. Jimmy sighed.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just want you to leave,” Scott said, interrupting Jimmy again, and honestly it was getting pretty hard for Jimmy to continue being amicable if Scott was going to be like this for the whole conversation.

“Fine! I was only trying to come to a peaceful resolution here, no need to be a jerk like always,” Jimmy huffed, slinging his pickaxe over his shoulder and starting to head out of the cave. Scott made an irritated sound, quickly following after him.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being mean when you’re the one who showed up in my empire unannounced and unwanted!” Scott fumed, hands gesturing wildly as he kept up with Jimmy’s brisk pace.

“Like I said, didn’t realize this was part of your empire. And I’m leaving now, so you can stop following me,” Jimmy huffed. Scott stopped to stare at him incredulously, and Jimmy paused as well to raise an eyebrow at him.

“This cave only has one exit, you idiot. We both have to go this way,” Scott pointed out with a scoff. Jimmy made a frustrated sound, and was about to make a retort- but heard a hiss and saw a green shape ambling towards them from an unlit portion of the cave. Jimmy didn’t have time to draw his sword, and Scott was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice the creeper heading towards them. So in a split-second decision, Jimmy tackled Scott to the ground right before the creeper exploded and caused a chunk of the cave to crumble down right where the two of them had been standing. Debris showered over the two of them, and Jimmy instinctively shielded Scott from it, even though he had been shouting at the elf mere moments prior. The dust settled, and it was then he realized how close he and Scott were, their noses practically touching.

“You alright?” Jimmy asked, surprising himself with how soft and concerned his voice came out. Scott looked at him with wide eyes and an almost flustered expression, until he schooled it down into smooth indifference.

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner before you pin me like that,” Scott teased with a smirk. Jimmy rolled his eyes, getting up off of Scott before offering a hand to help him up.

“I think you’re supposed to thank me for saving your life,” Jimmy shot back. Scott scowled at him, ignoring the offered hand and getting to his feet on his own, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“Thank you for what? Tackling me and giving me a near concussion? Or the fact that we’re now both stuck here?” Scott asked, gesturing at the cave-in. Following the direction of Scott’s hand, Jimmy looked to the cave opening. Or rather, the lack of a cave opening. The creeper explosion must have hit some loose gravel in the ceiling, because the weak rock had given way to a whole mess of stone to fall and block off their only exit.

“Maybe we could dig through it?” Jimmy wondered. Scott rolled his eyes.

“With your luck, that would only make it worse. Besides I didn’t bring a pickaxe, and I don’t think you could dig that out by yourself. We’re just gonna have to turn around and hope there’s another way out,” Scott said, turning and heading deeper in the cave. Jimmy scrambled after him in protest.

“Or we could stay here and call for help! I’m sure one of my allies would be willing to help me, or maybe you’ve got a closer ally who’d be willing to dig us out-”

“No. We’re better off trying to find our own way out. Besides, I don’t have allies- having alliances means having enemies too, and I’d much rather stay above the conflict if you don’t mind,” Scott said, stubbornly continuing forward. Jimmy groaned, reluctantly following after Scott.

“Fine, have it your way. But you let me know when you change your mind,” Jimmy said, not having the energy to argue with Scott’s weird animosity towards alliances. So instead, he followed his not-really-enemy but not-really-friend either deeper into the darkness, torchlight their only savior.

Going deeper into the cave was not providing them with a way out. They did, however, come across a mineshaft- which was a small but still not great shimmering light of hope. It was possible the mineshaft could be connected to another cave that could lead them out, so braving the mineshaft it was. Besides, there could be good loot to be had- even if Scott claimed most of it since it was, technically, part of his empire. And that was fine with Jimmy, he was trying to offer what he had found to Scott earlier anway. However, there was one problem with mineshafts, and that was the tendency of cave spiders making their nests in them. And it figures with Jimmy’s rotten luck that they would come across one of those nests. And even worse, Jimmy managed to get a hand caught in one of the webs at the edge of it.

“Stop struggling, you’re just gonna alert them that we’re here!” Scott hissed, trying to cut away at the cobwebs ensnaring Jimmy’s hand.

“If you cut at it any slower, they’re just gonna see us anyway!” Jimmy whisper-shouted back, but kept his hand still as Scott asked anyhow. But of course, as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of the cave spiders had noticed them. It jumped at Jimmy, but Scott moved in front of him just in time to intercept it instead, and struggled only for a moment before he managed to kill it. Scott was hunched over for a moment, trying to catch his breath- and despite his warnings not to, Jimmy yanked his hand free from the cobwebs to rush to his side, seeing the glittering red eyes in the distance. He opened his mouth to ask if Scott was alright, but he abruptly stood upright and pushed Jimmy towards a corridor of the mineshaft that was not infested with cave spiders.

“Go, we gotta get out of here!” he cried, running and pulling Jimmy along with him. Jimmy didn’t argue, keeping pace with Scott and cutting down a few cave spiders that got too close. They ran and turned down corridor after corridor, until they were sure that the spiders had lost interest. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath, and Jimmy eyed Scott with concern. He was holding his shoulder and looked rather pale- well, paler than usual.

“Scott?” Jimmy asked, voice gentle. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, like Jimmy had spoken too loudly, and took a beat longer to respond than Jimmy would have liked.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, not very convincingly at all. Jimmy frowned, stepping forward and reaching for the hand Scott had clasped tightly over his own shoulder. Jimmy instantly knew something was wrong when Scott didn’t push him away and let him remove his hand. Scott’s hand came away slick with blood, and Jimmy hissed in sympathy at the sickly green state of the wound. Cave spider bite, right in the gap of Scott’s armor. And it seemed the venom was working pretty fast through his system. Suddenly, as if taking his hand off of his shoulder had sapped all his energy, Scott’s knees gave out and he collapsed into Jimmy. With a startled gasp, Jimmy managed to catch Scott, wrapping his free arm around his waist and trying to keep him somewhat upright. His hand still clutched Scott’s, and his hand had shifted to clutch Jimmy’s back just as tightly. His head drooped down to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, the antlers of his circlet poking him slightly, and a cold spike of fear shot through Jimmy at how feverish Scott’s forehead felt against his neck. Scott had only just been bitten. If he was in such bad shape already… Jimmy didn’t want to think about it.

“You’re hot,” Jimmy blurted, a little horrified. Scott let out a borderline delirious chuckle.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Scott teased, voice weak with pain. Jimmy let out a startled laugh.

“Scott, quit flirting for one minute, you’re dying,” Jimmy reprimanded, a little shocked at how wobbly his own voice sounded.

“I’ll just respawn, it’s not the end of the world. Nice to know you care though,” Scott said tiredly, although Jimmy could hear the slight smile in his voice. Jimmy froze a bit at his words. Yeah… that was right, Scott would just respawn. He’d lose his stuff and his enchantment levels, but he’d wake up in bed, right as rain. So why was Jimmy so worried for a moment? Why did Scott dying in his arms suddenly feel like the end of the world? And most baffling of all, why did the thought of losing someone who was at most an acquaintance rattle him so much? Yet here he was, clinging to Scott like he would disappear forever.

“I… of course I care! You’re the one who’s pushing me away, not the other way around,” Jimmy said, deciding not to address the fact that he had somehow forgotten about respawning being a thing. Scott laughed humorlessly, and him not having any sort of witty response was extremely telling of how worse off Scott was doing. He had been leaning into Jimmy more and more throughout the weak banter, and Jimmy finally knelt down and shifted Scott to be comfortably resting in his lap, his head still leaning on his shoulder, but turned so that Jimmy could see him.

“Your face makes for a pretty last thing to see before I die,” Scott said softly, and Jimmy blinked in surprise, unsure of how to take that.

“Didn’t realize a side effect of cave spider venom was delirium,” Jimmy settled on, causing Scott to let out a pained wheeze of a laugh.

“Think the side effect is actually brutal honesty,” Scott said, sounding a little wistful. Okay, well Jimmy really didn’t know how to respond to that. Scott, dying in his arms and looking at him all soft and adoring like Jimmy was a- a lover or something. So maybe it was that gentle look in Scott’s eyes even as he was dying, or Jimmy not wanting to deal with the blood of a fellow ruler on his hands, or just not wanting to watch someone die in general that caused him to shift and reach for something in his bag he had found in their journey through the mineshaft. He held out a golden apple to Scott, who looked at it with confusion.

“Nabbed it from a chest when you weren’t looking. I know you’ll just respawn, but cave spider venom is a pretty terrible way to go,” Jimmy said, smiling softly. Scott just blinked, not moving to take the apple.

“Jimmy-”

“Shut up and take the apple, Scott,” Jimmy insisted, for once cutting Scott off instead of the other way around. Scott sighed, and with a shaking hand, he grabbed the apple and took a bite. Almost immediately, color came back to Scott’s face and the green started to recede from the shoulder wound. A few more bites, and the bleeding stopped, the wound started closing up, and Scott was no longer leaning on Jimmy so heavily. He did, however, seem perfectly content to stay in Jimmy’s arms. Jimmy couldn’t really find it in himself to detach himself from Scott either.

“Thanks,” Scott said softly, like he was afraid to say it, after he had finished the apple. Jimmy chuckled.

“I should be thanking you, you’re the one who threw yourself between me and that cave spider,” Jimmy said, immensely glad that he remembered finding the golden apple before it was too late. Otherwise Scott, who usually didn’t seem to like him, would have died because of Jimmy.

“You saved me from the creeper earlier, I was just repaying the favor. Of course now I owe you again, because you healed me,” Scott said with a mock irritated tone, grinning all the while. Jimmy unceremoniously dumped him on the cave floor for that, ignoring his startled shout of protest to instead stand up.

“Well, maybe you could repay me by finally letting me contact one of my allies to help us,” Jimmy replied with a grin of his own. Scott pouted a little, still grumpy about being forcibly moved off of Jimmy’s lap.

“That was rude, I’m still recovering! Jerk,” Scott huffed, but there was no true anger in his tone. Jimmy shook his head fondly, offering a hand to Scott. He took it, and only stumbled a little bit as he got back to his feet. Fortunately Jimmy was there to steady him, ignoring the “I-told-you-so” look Scott gave him.

“You’ll live, thanks to me. Now can I message for help so that we can get out of here?” Jimmy asked. Scott let out a dramatic sigh.

“I guess so. Give them the coordinates for the cave entrance, we can head back in that direction and meet them halfway,” Scott said. Jimmy nodded, getting out his communicator to send a message to Joel.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna stay in this mineshaft any longer than we have to,” Jimmy said as he typed. Scott hovered over his shoulder, correcting Jimmy on the coordinate numbers before he sent the message off to Joel. Luckily, Joel wasn’t busy and responded fairly quickly, saying that he was on his way.

“Ready to get out of here?” Scott asked, once Jimmy had read Joel’s message to him.

“Absolutely,” Jimmy said, pocketing his communicator and walking side by side with Scott.

They reached the cave-in before Joel had arrived, but they didn’t have to wait too long before they heard Joel calling out for them. It seemed Lizzie had come along as well, as Jimmy could hear her voice along with Joel’s. He was a little surprised to hear her, as Jimmy wasn’t officially allied with Lizzie, but he supposed it made sense. Lizzie was married to Joel, and Lizzie’s empire was connected to Jimmy’s by water.

“We’re here!” Jimmy called back.

“Oh good, you didn’t kill each other,” Joel called back, a smile in his voice. Jimmy rolled his eyes, even if Joel couldn’t see him.

“I’ll have you know I saved Scott twice in these caves,” Jimmy shot back with a grin. Scott groaned in annoyance.

“You’re gonna hold this over my head, aren’t you,” Scott grumbled.

“Only a little bit,” Jimmy replied, relieved when Scott wasn’t actually all that annoyed, due to the chuckle he got in response.

“Stand back boys, I’ve got TNT!” Lizzie exclaimed, breaking the moment of banter. Scott and Jimmy exchanged wide-eyed glances, scrambling away from the rubble.

“Uh… you do know that explosions are what got us into this mess in the first place, right?” Scott asked nervously.

“It’ll be faster than trying to dig you out,” Joel replied, before the click of a flint and steel was heard.

“Does it alarm you at all that they have TNT already?” Scott whispered.

“They’re my allies. Or at least Joel is. Not sure why Lizzie came along, actually,” Jimmy replied with a shrug. Before Scott could reply, the TNT went off, destroying the rubble and revealing Joel and Lizzie on the other side.

“When I heard Joel was off to rescue the sweet swamp boy, I had to come along!” Lizzie said with a grin, poking her head through the hole in the rubble. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment at the nickname, while Scott was poorly hiding his laugh behind a cough.

“She was with me when I got your message, I figured the extra help couldn’t hurt,” Joel explained.

“Well thank you, both of you. We really appreciate it,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the hole in the rubble with Lizzie’s help.

“You’re welcome! Although it sounds like you had the rescuing Scott part handled,” she teased with a wink.

“Hey! The only reason he saved me the second time was because I got bit by a cave spider that was coming for him. So I did some saving too,” Scott protested as he followed Jimmy out. Joel looked to Scott with concern.

“Do you need any health potions? I brought some just in case,” Joel offered, starting to dig through his pack.

“Nah, Jimmy gave me a golden apple that he stole from me,” Scott said, nudging Jimmy playfully. Jimmy laughed, pushing at him back.

“I didn’t steal it, I just took it from a minecart chest before you noticed it,” Jimmy retorted.

“A minecart chest that was in my empire,” Scott shot back with a grin. Jimmy was going to snap back, but Lizzie came to stand in between them.

“How about we leave before any more near death situations happen,” she suggested. Both Jimmy and Scott smiled sheepishly, before following Lizzie and Joel out of the cave.

The four of them had made it back to Scott’s home, with plenty of daylight to spare for the long journey Jimmy, Lizzie, and Joel had ahead of them to their own empires. Jimmy had told Joel and Lizzie to go on, saying that he would catch up with them in a bit. He wanted to talk to Scott first. About what, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he felt like he couldn’t just up and leave right away without saying something, not after everything that had happened. But for the moment, the two of them were stood in the entryway of Scott’s house a little awkwardly. Scott’s home was bigger than the last time Jimmy had seen it, but part of him was touched to see that he still had the pufferfish- rather the pufferish- mounted above his door. Jimmy wasn’t exactly sure why he had given Scott a misspelled token of peace, but it had just felt… right.

“So… have you changed your mind on alliances at all?” Jimmy asked, settling on teasing Scott a bit instead of tackling any sort of emotional conversation right away. Scott let out a mildly bitter laugh.

“I… will admit that there are advantages to having alliances. And you, Lizzie, and Joel seem alright. I just… well, if I’m being totally honest, I’m not really opposed to alliances… it’s just- it’s like there’s this part of me, maybe something from a past life, that knows that getting tangled up in alliances can lead to war and loss,” Scott said, heartbreak lacing his words. Jimmy frowned in sympathy. He didn’t know what Scott had been through before starting an empire, but it sounded like it was nothing fun. He put a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder- and was instantly greeted with a flurry of images both familiar and unfamiliar. A flower forest. Homes carved into hills. Decaying skin and burnt banners. Flowers nestled in teal hair. Being helpless to watch as a loved one- a husband?- was shot down. Darkness, then light again. Then a feeling of home, and a joyful reunion.

Jimmy jerked back from Scott like had been burned. The real world filtered back into view with Scott wide-eyed and surprised as Jimmy was. What- what was that? They felt like memories, or maybe a dream. And the person with teal hair, the husband?! That was undeniably Scott, just far less regal and with rounded ears, not pointed ones. Jimmy wasn’t sure what that was, but suddenly the fear of losing Scott in the mineshaft made a startling amount of sense.

“Did you… see that?” Jimmy asked. Maybe he was hallucinating, did he get bit by a cave spider too? Maybe this was all some weird fever dream.

“I- yeah. I was kind of kidding about the past life thing… but was that even us? Or just… I dunno, a version of us from an alternate reality?” Scott pondered, looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. Jimmy found himself looking at the pufferish of peace. Was that something significant in that… other life? Or was that truly something of his own volition?

“Must be some sort of alternate reality, I think we were married,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Scott laughed as well, shaking his head.

“Yeah, can you imagine? Why would I marry some swamp boy?” Scott teased.

“And why would I marry a stuffy elf ruler?” Jimmy teased right back. The two of them laughed, but there was regret and maybe a smidge of longing tinged in both of their voices.

“I think I could at least stand being allied with some swamp boy,” Scott said softly, after a moment of silence. Jimmy smiled.

“Allies it is then,” Jimmy said, holding out his hand. Scott gingerly took it, and when there weren't any flashes of alternate or past lives, he shook it firmly.

“Allies,” Scott said, squeezing Jimmy’s hand before letting go. Jimmy bid him goodbye, exiting his home to meet up with Lizzie and Joel. And maybe, just maybe, Jimmy allowed himself to treasure the little flutter his heart made when Scott had squeezed his hand. He was sure his past- or alternate, who knows- self would appreciate it.

MCYT Tag List (ask to be added/removed!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #smallishbeans #ldshadowlady #mcyt #angst #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #sage writes

133 notes · View notes

starilicious · 3 years

Text

der lagi lekin (hunter x force-user!gn! reader + ep. 8 fix-it)

》 summary: tbb episode 8 fix-it featuring a force-user reader who used to be a jedi. reader is a part of tbb and in a relationship with hunter, but the squad–nor hunter–knows that reader is a force-user. (disclaimer: all of this was written before episode 9 was released! see a/n for an explanation ^_^) (another disclaimer: if you want just the hunter x reader comfort, please let me know and i'll finish it up and post it!)

》 word count: ~8k (yeah, it's a lot LOL)

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: in-universe swearing, mental breakdown, some slight sensory overloads, pretty mild panic attack, light canon-typical violence, angst + some comfort, survivor's guilt from surviving order 66, no use of y/n, slightly plot heavy because i got way too carried away in writing (whoops?) [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: major ones for tbb episode 8 "reunion"

》 a/n: okay look, i gotta confess: this wasn’t supposed to be an episode 8 fix-it. really. i’m actually glad cad bane won because we get to see that the clones don’t always win every fight... i think it makes for a better and more complex story. anyway, i started out writing just reader and hunter comfort after episode 8 ended. but i’m weak for omega because she reminds me so much of my younger siblings and i ended up writing a wholeass fix-it to save her (even tho cad bane is a downright badass). i kind of liked what i did with building up the plot so much that i might continue this story of force-user!reader with tbb. but that’s a tangent we can deal with later. if you would like a part two with the hunter x reader comfort this was originally intended to be, let me know!

as i said in the summary, i wrote all of this before episode 9 came out–just be aware of that. because it’s so long, it took me a while to edit, which is why i’m posting after ep. 9 was released. but without further ado, i hope you like it! <33

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "der lagi lekin" from the film zindagi na milegi dobara. i linked the song in blue and linked the english translations in green in case you're curious! it's not necessary to listen or understand the song, but i thought it went well with the fic :)

“Everybody get down!” Wrecker yells. You and the squad immediately do as he instructs, diving towards the ground and covering your head. Stars, I hope this works.

The charges the six of you placed around the gigantic cone that surrounds the core cylinder explodes in a deafening blast. You curl into the tightest ball you can manage, breathing so hard that the HUD inside your helmet temporarily fogs up. Metal shards of the explosion rain down on you hard.

For a moment, it seems like nothing happened. But then you hear the telltale, ear-grinding creak of the durasteel and the squad is roughly catapulted forward from the force of the cone beginning to fall down.

You struggle to stand up as you lurch this way and that, trying to regain your balance and stabilize as Tech calls out, “Hold on!”

You quickly glance at the rest of the Bad Batch, trying to see if any of them were hurt. Other than the absolutely terrified look on Omega’s face, all is well considering the circumstances. The metal groans and begins its descent, taking your feeling of being grounded with it. The weightlessness is uncomfortably familiar to say the least, but you ignore it as the six of you scramble to hold on to the side of the cone. You certainly did your fair share of acrobatics back in the war, but feeling it hum around you...it’s too much. It’s too much. You elect to push it back into the depths of your brain. But it doesn’t leave.

It never really does.

Omega’s anxious whimpers come in faintly through your thick helmet and you whip around, frantically trying to find where she is. But before you can find her, the cone lands vertically on its head and the force is so violent that your stable hold on the durasteel is broken. Panicked, you quickly fire a grappling hook towards the ledge where you were previously hanging on. The hook catches and you stop abruptly, the jerky movement almost wrenching your arm out of its socket.

You look down to see Omega falling from someone’s grip and into Hunter’s arms. You can barely tell where anyone is thanks to the lack of light and the incessant motion.

The cone begins to topple onto its side and suddenly, your wire snaps from the tension. You let out a scream of surprise as you plummet downwards, wind rushing past your helmet. ForceIdon’twanttodieohmyMakerohno–

But you never hit the ground, instead being flung sideways as the cone tears into two. On trained instinct, you tuck yourself into a ball to try and roll in order to break your fall instead of using it. That time is long gone.

You land with a sickening thud and hiss in pain as your back hits the metal hard. You hear something crack, but whether it is your armor or something internal, you have absolutely no idea, and don’t have time to check before you black out.

✧✦✧

You jolt awake, a sound making its way into your consciousness. Finally, the damn place stopped moving. You take a few minutes to try and relieve the painful pressure in your chest, reaching up to rip your helmet off because you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.

You tilt your head back as you struggle to take in air and let the adrenaline subside. You hear voices in the distance and you strain your ears to pick up on the sound as you quickly check yourself over. As far as you can tell, nothing major is broken, and at this point, that is all that matters. Though, your head is pounding, and for more reasons than one

“–nter.. port side... what… status?”

You can’t tell who is speaking, the message too far away for you to hear. But the bits and pieces are enough for you to know that it’s someone from the Bad Batch and that you weren’t unconscious for long. You stand up and dust yourself off before slowly walking to where you believe the origin of the sound is.

“–engine… got company.” A blaster sound and then an explosion rings through the quiet.

Your eyes widen and you quickly pick up the pace, getting your blaster ready as you pick your way through the sharp metal that is jutting out from the ground.

You click on your wrist comm. “Echo, you there?” A faint crackle before his voice comes through, but the signal is scratchy. You frown in frustration.

“–are you? Hunter is... port side,” Echo says and you smack your commlink to try and get the electronics to work, but it’s no use. The device is broken, most likely from the fall, you deduce.

“Meet… Marauder.”

You don’t bother to answer, knowing Echo would probably not even be able to hear what you had to say anyway. Without a signal booster or repeater, there’s no way you can get your transmission across the channel frequency.

It takes a few minutes, but you eventually find the night sky of Bracca blinking down at you at the end of the ripped off cone. You run out to find that you’re in the middle of where the cone broke in half. Okay, new plan. I need to find Hunter. Hunter will know what to do.

You scan your surroundings. The HUD isn’t picking up on any lifeforms near you, and you realize with sinking dread that you have no more options. Whichever piece you climbed through to get to your squadmates, it would take too long for you to search for them since you don’t know their coordinates and your comm isn’t working. Frankly, the Empire–Crosshair–would find you first. You have to use it.

You have to use the Force.

A wave of nausea overcomes you at the mere thought of it and you sway. In an attempt to ground yourself, you tear off your helmet to breathe some fresh air and end up keeling over as the bile rises in your throat. Nothing comes out. You can’t tell if that’s a positive or not.

You could have saved them. Someone. Anyone.

It itches at you in the back of your head, wishing to be let out of its cage. But you can’t. You can’t do it. What’s the use anyway? All you would be doing is saving yourself. The choice of surviving it all has haunted you ever since. Your head pounds in agony.

You saw it happen. You could have helped them. And you ran like a coward. Only ever concerned about yourself.

You inhale sharply as the scene flashes before your eyes, clones shooting at you and the other Jedi. The blaster fire. The confusion. The screams.

How pathetic.

The last statement, an echo of Crosshair’s words, bounces around in your brain. You clutch your head as you let out a heartbroken sob, knee deep in the dirt and metal and grief. Tears create clean tracks down your face as you finally break down, the flood of emotions bursting the dam open. At this point, you don’t know if the emotions are yours or the ones you previously felt through the Force, all of them swirling and blending into one. The bottled up anguish merged together when you attempted to cut yourself off from the Force after the clones–your friends–attacked.

The pain of their death is perhaps the worst of all. Horror courses through you as you finally process your friends and mentors dying around the galaxy, their deaths, their distress, their fear reverberating heavily throughout the Force. Each one cripples you further as you once again struggle to breathe.

It feels like light years pass when you finally calm down to a practically numb state of being. The scenes stop replaying behind your closed eyelids and the echoing shrieks die down to a faint, hollow whisper. You’re suddenly exhausted, limbs heavy and energy sapped. It was almost relieving to finally let the Force once again flow through your body, your nerves lightly tingling with potential despite how tired you feel. You collapse onto the ground and try to recenter yourself.

But despite finally acknowledging the loss, it doesn’t feel right. You didn’t get to say goodbye. You hadn’t been able to even think about them, much less honor them, too focused on going on the run to concentrate on anything beyond the next day’s survival. Even once you joined the Bad Batch, you were paranoid about their chips, about your friends turning on you at any moment. You were always extremely reluctant to engage in the Force, even at the worst of times.

With a start, you realize that you don’t need to worry about your squadmates. Their inhibitor chips are now gone. You… you are safe.

You let out a shocked laugh as it sinks in. A glimmer of hope, of peace. I’m safe.

You sit up then, criss-crossing your legs as you survey the broken landscape of Bracca. Despite the planet being a graveyard, you feel lucidly alive. Perhaps something died in you, that wretched day. But something else, slowly but surely, began growing in its place. It’s meek, but it’s there.

You let out a breath and close your eyes, reaching for the Force like it’s an old friend. It accepts your invitation with hesitation, joining hands with you as if you did not try beating it to death for days on end. You sink into the gentle lapping waves of the Force, extending into it and widening your scope.

There’s something that lurks beneath the surface, in the deep. Dark and sinister and so utterly painful. It calls to you, quiet and low. Enticing. Tempting. And something in you knows that it’s the reason for your previous life’s demise.

But you can feel Hunter’s–and Omega’s, you realize–presence near you in the Force. Even with your relatively damaged connection to the Force after Order 66, the Bad Batch’s Force auras were something you could always hone in on. You let yourself direct your focus to the duo, letting their emotions be your beacon to the acceptance of the Light side of the Force.

In a split second, you decide to not dive deeper into the Force. This isn’t the place nor the time to discover what is prowling in the endless yawning of the Force, to discover why everything happened. So you direct your concentration to the beings on the planet, feeling and breathing your way through the Life Force.

You freeze. There’s something here. No… someone. Your eyebrows furrow as you divert your attention away from your friends and other organisms to the peculiar source. Something about this person strikes you as familiar.

Your eyes snap open and you gasp. I’m not alone. A Force-sensitive. Someone survived. Giddy beyond belief, you snatch up your helmet and begin trekking your way across the wreckage in the opposite direction of Hunter and Omega before pausing. Whoever this person is doesn’t know about your presence on the planet.

And despite the fear you felt emanating off of them in the Force, you somehow knew they were safe, at least for now. And they would remain so if you have anything to say about it. Maker forbid anything that jeopardizes this person’s fragile safety. After all, you know best what it’s like to constantly flee scene after scene.

Staying away is the best thing to do. I’ll come back for you, whoever you are.

You double back and make quick work of getting across the debris as you focus your concentration on Hunter’s and Omega’s Force signatures. As you get closer to the port side, you hear Omega’s high voice. Through your HUD, you can see her small form. You grin. She disappears then, and on closer inspection, you figure she jumped through some broken cargo doors.

The entrance she and Hunter took is too high for you to jump up to, even with the aid of the Force. Combined with your wariness of probe droids, you decide to take a different route from the right side, climbing up the broken ship. The slick oil mixed with the water still present on the metal makes for a difficult trek, and you slip more times than you would like to admit.

Hunter’s gruff voice floats up towards you and you scramble the last few meters to the edge of a hole in the ceiling before pausing. The Force is itching at the back of your head. Something’s wrong.

You peek over the edge of the giant slab of durasteel that created the hole to see bodies in white armor littered everywhere–clones, you realize. Your heart pangs in sadness at the sight.

Slightly to your right, a blue figure and a techno-service droid stand in front of a ship and a frightened Omega stands behind a defensive Hunter. Your mouth drops open. Kriff.

Cad Bane.

A memory from near the beginning of the war hits you in full force. You and Anakin had taken some time on Coruscant to catch up with each other after you passed your trials and were promoted to Jedi Knight. He told you about a mission where he had to stop a bounty hunter who successfully stole a Jedi holocron. You remember how surprised you were when you heard the bitter disgust in Anakin’s voice. The ruthlessly cunning bounty hunter not only threatened to kill Ahsoka, but he murdered Master Ropal.

Judging by the looks of it, Hunter doesn’t know who he is. If the Anakin Skywalker had a difficult time with Cad Bane, there is no way in sithhell Hunter can take him on, even with his enhanced senses. Frankly, you seriously doubt you can either, especially with how rusty your Force skills are now. And that means this isn’t going to end well.

You watch carefully as you tune into the conversation.

“Ain’t you smart?” Bane smirks. “The kid’s got it all figured it out.”

“You’re in trouble now!” the droid exclaims, pointing at Hunter and Omega. You grit your teeth in annoyance.

“Who hired you?” Hunter asks. Stalling. Not a bad move, Hunter.

“Son,” Bane sighs, already done with the brief conversation. “That’s confidential information. Now hand her over.”

Omega stays behind Hunter, taking a knee as Hunter walks forward protectively. You bristle. How am I supposed to help from up here?

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Your eyes drift over the scene in a panic and you take in the fallen clones again. An idea pops into your head. It is desperate, but at this point, you don’t have much of a choice.

Bane mimics Hunter’s movement, walking forward and putting a hand near his belt. The tension is as thick as duracrete.

“That’s unfortunate… for you.”

You grab the long barrel piece from your belt, fitting it over your blaster hurriedly as the showdown begins. Out of the corner of your eye, you see them staring each other down and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Men.

During the war, Crosshair helped you re-engineer your weapon so you could put together various pieces in the field to make a blaster gun that loosely resembled his own sniper. Seeing the clones reminded you of him. A wave of sadness washes over you, but you shake your head. Now is not the time.

You screw on the telescopic sight and set up your makeshift sniper. You peer through the viewfinder and find Bane’s chest. Your finger tenses over the trigger.

You let yourself sink deep into the Force, let it guide your actions. Inhale. Exhale. I can do this. As you relax, the mellow warmth you missed so dearly washes over you, gently eroding the torment in your mind and heart, guiding your focus to the here and now. Trust in the Force.

Wait.

Now.

You fire two bolts straight into your target the same exact moment Bane and Hunter shoot each other. Hunter’s shot hits the droid, breaking off its leg. Bane’s shot hits directly in Hunter’s chest, as yours did Bane. Both men immediately fall backwards and slam into the ground.

“My booster!” Oh. So not a leg. Got it.

“Hunter!”

Kriff kriff kriff. You jump down nimbly from your hiding spot in the ceiling and immediately sprint towards the duo. Is he dead? You would unapologetically release sithhell on Bane if he killed the man you love.

Omega panics as she tries to wake Hunter up, continuously calling his name before taking a glimpse of her surroundings. Before you can react, she grabs her bow and pulls it taut, aiming at you. She looks petrified.

“Whoa! Omega, it’s me!” you exclaim, holding your hands up in surrender. She takes a moment to actually look at you before sagging in relief. Suddenly, the droid comes speeding out of nowhere and Omega shoots, the energy bolt whizzing past your waist and straight into the droid before it can attack you from behind.

The shot rings true and the grumpy robot falls. You turn around to grab at its exposed parts under its head and yank them out to make sure it can’t power on again.

“Thanks, Omega. I owe you one,” you say and Omega gives you a proud smile.

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder before kneeling down to shake Hunter awake, but it doesn’t work. You take a moment to analyse Hunter’s Life Force. It’s a bit dimmer, but it’s constant, meaning he’s out cold and doesn’t have the life draining out of him. You let out a sigh of relief. He’s alive. You glance back to see Bane still not moving. Good.

“What’re we gonna do?” Omega whispers as you both peer down at Hunter. His armor is smoking from Bane’s blaster shot and you exhale through your teeth, trying to come up with a plan. You slip off a glove to check Hunter’s pulse–it’s strong. You don’t want to leave Omega alone, even if Bane is unconscious, but you aren’t sure you have a choice.

“Well we can’t carry him to safety, neither of us are strong enough for that,” you think aloud, gears churning in your head. You would have to wait for help, even if you were sitting ducks.

Briefly, you entertain the thought of taking Bane’s ship. The only problem is you don’t know what trackers or other gadgets are in there–it’s too costly of a risk and a price you weren’t willing to pay. You sigh, resigned.

“Omega, you try to comm the others and see if you can wake Hunter up. I’m going to go inside this guy’s ship and see if I can find something that can help us. We have to get out of here before the bounty hunter wakes up,” you instruct and Omega nods, youthful determination flooding back into her eyes.

You leave her to it, walking cautiously towards Bane’s ship. You look down at him. His armor is smoking in two places from the shots you fired. Based on what you see, he’s still unconscious, and his Life Force reflects the same conclusion. How long that would remain, you don’t know. Which means you need to work fast.

You board the ship while you remove the sniper attachments from your blaster and clip them back onto your belt. You keep your guard up as you look around. No droids. Guess that techno-service droid is his one and only.

In an effort to slowly re-familiarize yourself with the Force, you send out a quick pulse through it to see if there are any lifeforms aboard the ship, relaxing when you find none. You rummage through all the cabinets that you discover, looking high and low as you try to locate something of use. The secret compartment in the cockpit proves to be the fruitful reward to your search. With a wave of your hand, you unlock it with ease. Bingo.

Credits. Bags of them. And they’re unmarked creds, which make your score even better. Hopefully, it would be enough to pay off your debt to Cid and give the Havoc Marauder some much-needed upgrades.

Usually, you would feel bad about stealing from someone, but considering this was a bounty hunter – Cad Bane, no less – you figure you can risk treading the grey area of your moral code.

You grab as many bags as you’re able, stuffing them inside your backpack and clipping the rest onto your belt. At this moment, you’re incredibly grateful to Tech and Echo for designing a sturdy utility belt that fits you well. The standard ones were for clones and you definitely were not a clone.

You exit the cockpit and head to the second level of the ship to see if there’s anything else you can find. A stack of crates sits in the corner across from what you assume to be a prison. You scrunch your nose in disgust as you open one to find medical supplies. Bacta patches and gel, vitapaste, rations, water, gloves, sanitary napkins–it was all there. Delighted, you close the crate and click the repulsor to make it levitate. Oh how you love technology.

You turn around and walk back up the stairs to leave the ship. You freeze at the exit ramp. You have got to be karking kidding me.

“Sorry lil’ lady.”

Cad Bane stuns Omega in front of your eyes before rounding on you and immediately fires. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, you throw your hands up and the honeyed power of the Force rushes through every fibre of your being. The blaster bolts slow down to a snail-like crawl and your eyes widen. How did I…?

Never mind how you argue with yourself. Time to get out of here!

You tiptoe around each bolt, the effort of keeping them in stasis becoming more difficult with each passing moment. You grit your teeth as your arms shake, but you keep going until you are finally off the ramp. You lower your arms and the energy hits the inside of the ship, spazzing out the blinking controls inside.

Bane turns to you in surprise, astonished at how you’re suddenly in front of him. You don’t give him the luxury of processing the event and immediately punch him in the face with as much strength as you can muster. Bane pitches backwards and collapses onto the ground, just as he did the first time. You grab your stun blaster and shoot him as extra assurance. You really did not want this to repeat again. Hopefully he never wakes up with a memory of what I just did...

“Now stay down,” you mutter to a knocked out Bane, cradling your now injured hand. You have no idea how Wrecker ever does this because wow your hand is killing you.

You have to say, you’re pretty proud of yourself for being able to render him unconscious not once, but two times. You wish you could tell Anakin–the thought saddens you. He’s probably dead too.

With that vividly cheery thought, you stagger back from the ramp in exhaustion, weary from the sudden surge of the Force still ebbing and coursing through your body.

None of the Bad Batch knew you used to be a Jedi–not even Hunter. It was something only a few of your closest Jedi friends and the Jedi Council knew about.

But after what happened today, with Rex helping your squadmates get their inhibitor chips out, with you finally letting the Force in… maybe it is time to tell them. The secrecy wouldn’t be needed anymore now that you were sure you were safe around your friends. But clearly, the universe wanted to throw a nasty vibroblade in your plans by knocking Hunter and Omega unconscious and having the best kriffing bounty hunter in the galaxy be hot on your heels.

You take a few seconds to get your breath back and regain your mental energy. You aren’t out of the woods yet. You run inside Bane’s ship to grab the crate of medical supplies before sprinting back out towards Hunter and Omega.

You lean down and pat Omega’s cheek gently, trying to wake her up, but she’s out cold. Why is everyone around me unconscious? Frankly, you’re equally amused and terrified by the situation laid out in front of you.

You sigh, looking around to see if you can find some cover. There’s a giant sheet of durasteel to your left, big enough to act as a barrier in case trouble comes knocking. You bend down and pick Omega up before placing her down cautiously, leaning her small body against the metal. You repeat the action with the crate you found.

The third time proves to be much more difficult. Hunter certainly isn’t as muscular as Wrecker, but he sure as sithhell isn’t as light as Omega. You tap your foot nervously, trying to figure out a way for you to lift him. Yes, you could use the Force, but you don’t want to alert the other Force-sensitive on the planet. If they knew about your existence, it could put them in danger, and that was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up, you place your hands underneath Hunter’s armpits and effectively drag him all the way over, propping him up as you did Omega. You cringe at the sound of his armor grating the floor. There are sure to be dirty scuff marks on it now. Sorry Hunter.

Just as you’re about to sit down next to him, heaving deep breaths from the exertion, you pause. A warning is practically blaring in the Force and you tense, urgently trying to figure out the cause.

“Not again,” you mumble under your breath. You can’t handle any more action today. With Hunter and Omega both down, and your extreme fatigue from engaging in the Force, you don’t know how much of a fight you can put up. Not to mention you never trained as a soldier. There was a reason why you left the military planning strategies to the Bad Batch.

You hold your blaster close to your chest as you scan the environment. Bane is immobile and so is the dismantled techno-service droid. So what’s wrong?

Ten nerve-wracking seconds pass before you get your answer. Clone voices waft up to your hiding spot and you bite your cheek in frustration as your head continues to pound. Your headache still hasn’t stopped.

There is no way you can fight them all off, especially if Crosshair is with them. They are too far away for you to get a read on how many there are, and frankly, you’re much too scared to even peek around the durasteel to count.

One of Tech’s previous statements floats through your mind. About three attack shuttles worth.

You can feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest, blood rushing through your ears as anxiety ties your stomach into knots. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, Ican’tdothis.

You take deep breaths, doing your best to clear your mind and focus. You had to do this. There is no other option other than surrendering or dying. No, damnit, you would go down fighting until the Life Force left you.

You peer just past the edge of the metal to see at least twenty clones heading your way. Certainly not ideal, but you bide your time. If you started shooting now, you couldn’t use the element of surprise to your advantage and they would easily overwhelm you. But once they’re close enough, you hope you can at least take a couple out before having to resort to using the Force. It isn’t ideal, but it’s all you have.

Honestly, you don’t know if you could get out of this one alive, much less protect Hunter and Omega too. Maker help me.

It throws you off when they finally come into sight–you see how plain the clones’ armor looked without paint. You never really noticed it before since you were always running for your life in those circumstances. But now that you think about it, you are so used to seeing bright blue or green or yellow that the alabaster white just seems so… odd.

“Looks like a big fight happened here.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. All these men are dead.”

Now.

You whip your body around the metal and immediately begin shooting as fast as you can pull the trigger, trying to make every shot count. The troopers hesitate for just a moment, most likely due to their surprise of you being there. But that second is all you need.

You take out the three men closest to you before jumping back behind the metal as their barrage of fire rains down on you. You do your best to shoot back and manage to take out one more clone, but they’re beginning to gain too much ground too fast. I can do this. I have to do this.

As far as you can tell, Crosshair isn’t with the clones attacking you, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t set up shop somewhere nearby, waiting to shoot you.

You shudder. It’s a chilling thought.

You grab one of your last detonators from your belt and hurl it as far as you can. The rapid beeping rises quickly in pitch before the charge explodes. Anguished cries reverberate throughout the area, and you briefly feel sorry for having to take such drastic measures as you feel their Force signatures dim swiftly. But you don’t have a choice.

Peeking around the corner, you count around eight to ten clones down. Not bad considering the circumstances.

You continue shooting as much as you can but now the troopers are much too close for comfort and you’re feeling overwhelmed. The durasteel you are using for cover isn’t meant to take this kind of damage, and the integrity of your shield is quickly waning as told by the constant creaks and groans. You don’t know what to do. Will we make it?

In your haste of shooting first and panicking later, you don’t notice Hunter groaning, finally waking up. And before you have time to even glance at him, the familiar hum of the Havoc Marauder and its lights shine down on you. Your sag in relief. Looks like Omega was able to comm them after all. Never before have you been so glad to see the beat-up hunk of junk. (You would never say that to Tech though–the Marauder is his baby, his pride and joy.)

Echo, Wrecker, and Tech all race off the ship, guns ablazing. Wrecker and Tech stand guard, serving as cover fire while Echo bends down to help you out.

“Hunter, wake up!” Echo hisses and smacks his helmet lightly. Hunter mumbles in pain as he starts to move, trying to look around as his HUD boots back up. Seriously? Now you wake up? you think sarcastically. But you’re much more relieved at the fact that he has actually woken up.

“What happened? Where’s Omega?” Wrecker bellows, worried.

“She’s right here, I’ve got her!” you shout back at the same time Echo says, “He was shot in the chest plate.”

You pocket your blaster and gather the young girl in your arms with every last bit of strength you have left. You aren’t strong enough to hold her in one arm and shoot with the other. That is much more up Wrecker’s alley.

“We have to get him on board!” Tech exclaims as he helps Echo support Hunter. You pick Omega up in both arms and bolt for the ship as fast as you can while yelling at Tech to grab the crate of supplies.

“Incoming!” Wrecker calls out as a fresh wave of troopers advance towards the six of you. You grunt as you deposit Omega in a chair near the controls before pulling out your blaster and helping Wrecker shoot down the men racing towards you.

“Got him. Tech, fly us out of here!” Echo commands while Wrecker makes a gesture for them to get on the ship faster. Hunter stumbles as he does his best to upright himself.

“Go go go!” Wrecker exclaims. Tech shoves the crate next to Omega’s seat and makes a beeline for the cockpit as you continue shooting, moving to the side to make space for Echo and Hunter to come on board. Wrecker quickly climbs in right after them and the ramp closes shut.

Tech immediately pilots the Havoc Marauder up and away from the scene. You vaguely hear the sound of blaster fire hitting the bottom of the ship while you drop your blaster on the ground and wrench Hunter’s helmet off in a panic. You take his face in your hands as you scan him quickly, trying to figure out if he’s hurt or not.

Hunter bats your hands away. “He... he took Omega,” he says and you shake your head. Wrecker pipes up from behind you to respond.

“Who? Crosshair?”

“The bounty hunter,” Hunter mutters as he rubs a hand over his face. Before Wrecker can answer again, you step in.

“No, he didn’t. I took him down. And no, he’s not dead,” you tack on quickly when you see Echo open his mouth. Echo shakes his head fondly and you just grin at him.

“She’s right here,” Echo says instead, pointing to Omega’s sleeping figure. Hunter turns in surprise to see that his brother is indeed telling the truth.

“How...?” Hunter’s voice trails off. Echo and Wrecker look at you expectantly, and Hunter follows suit. You sigh and take off your helmet, setting it down on the ledge next to the controls. You don’t look at them.

“It’s a long story.”

You don’t have a chance to elaborate any further because Tech walks in, interrupting the conversation.

“I’ve made the jump to hyperspace. There was a cruiser in the atmosphere, but I was able to quietly go past them by disguising our ship as a bounty hunter’s. They didn’t interfere. I put in the coordinates for Ord Mantell. I estimate our time of arrival to be five hours and thirty two minutes,” Tech reports and Hunter nods while you voice your thanks.

“Looks like we got time!” Wrecker says cheerily, pulling out an extra chair. Tech looks to you in confusion.

“Did I miss something significant?” Tech asks, concerned about the information he did not receive as he adjusts his goggles. You shake your head but now, all eyes are back on you.

“She was just about to tell us how she saved Omega,” Hunter supplies helpfully and Tech nods in understanding. He grabs a chair as well and sits down, interested in hearing what you have to say.

You look around the room, realizing you can’t get out of it. You are exhausted and just want to sleep but based on the looks you are getting from the boys, there is no way you can leave without giving a sufficient answer.

You sit down on a chair in between Omega and Echo and begin explaining.

“When the cone fell, it separated. I got knocked out when I hit the ground, but I don’t think I broke anything,” you quickly reassure as Tech grabs a datapad to scan your vitals.

“After I came to, I tried comming Echo, but my commlink was broken – I could only hear bits and pieces of what he said. There were some voices near me so I just followed them and–” you pause, not sure if you should tell them what happened. What you experienced, what you found out. “–I saw Hunter and Omega. The ledge I found was way too high for me to jump to, so I climbed up the side of the wreckage to see them and the bounty hunter facing off,” you say, choosing to leave the detail out. It was too personal. You still needed time.

All of them are listening intently, hanging on to every word you’re saying. Hunter’s gaze on you is heavy and loaded with questions. Tech is still tapping away on the datapad, but you know you have his full attention. Multitasking may not be possible for regular humans, but it definitely was for Tech.

“When I saw the bounty hunter, I knew Hunter wasn’t going to win,” you mumble sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hunter winces at your statement and you rush to explain why.

“Hunter, you have to trust that I genuinely don’t doubt your abilities. You are much more of a soldier than I will ever be. But this bounty hunter is one of the best, if not the best in the entire galaxy. He’s gone against the Jedi, and won. Based on what Anakin told me at the beginning of the war, Cad Bane is ruthless. He tortured Master Ropal and killed him. Believe it or not, I think he tried to abduct Chancellor Palpatine. Even Anakin had a difficult time fighting him.”

A tense quiet settles over you all as you mentally revisit your conversation with Anakin, and later with Ahsoka. She told you how it was one of the first times she was genuinely afraid that she was going to die, or at least get hurt very severely.

Echo’s rough voice shakes you out of your reverie. “How do–did you know General Skywalker?” he asks, clearly confused at how you referred to him on a first-name basis. You mentally facepalm yourself. How did I forget he served as part of the 501st? You feel incredibly stupid.

You could make up a lie, of course, but it wouldn’t be worth it. Hunter’s enhanced senses and Tech’s vitals scan could probably pick up on your biological signs, not to mention you would feel terribly guilty about not being honest. I promised myself I would tell them…

You blow out a nervous breath, deciding to at least give them something. They deserved that much.

“I’m–well, I was a Jedi,” you admit, staring down at your feet. You can’t bring yourself to look at them, feeling almost… ashamed.

The boys are shocked into silence and you cringe. There was probably a much better way for you to say that, but now it was out there. Yet the pressure that had been weighing down on you since you let the Force back in didn’t lessen.

“What?” Wrecker questions, thrown completely for a loop. “You’re a Jedi?”

Before you can answer, Tech pipes up. “When I reviewed your medical data, there was no note about an elevated midi-chlorian count or any sort of connection to the Force. Additionally, there is no documentation of you serving as a General or a Commander during the war in the Republic military records. How were you a Jedi? And why aren’t you one now? You used past tense in your sentence,” Tech adjusts his goggles as he attempts to register this new information that conflicted with his previous knowledge.

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your thigh. “I left the Jedi Order before the war ended. I promise I’ll explain everything in detail later, but for now, you have to understand that I’m just a Force-user. I trained as a Jedi, but I’m not a Jedi, not anymore,” you clarify, lifting your head up to make eye contact with each of them.

“Aw man, that’s so cool. You have to show us your cool mind tricks sometime!” Wrecker smiles and you agree to his request. It warms your heart to see him so excited.

“It makes sense. You must have seen the regs turn on the Jedi but didn’t know why. When you started traveling with us, you didn’t know if we would turn on you too, even though we’re not regs,” Hunter realizes, and you nod in affirmation. You’re secretly relieved by the fact that he doesn’t seem angry, just… just thoughtful.

“And then when I saw what happened to Crosshair, I knew I couldn’t risk ever telling any of you. But when Rex told us about the chips…” you trail off.

Echo picks up your sentence quickly. “You figured out you would be safe with us if we got our chips removed. No wonder you were so insistent on following what Rex said.”

You smile at the last part, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t wrong. You were probably even more insistent than Rex was on telling them to get their inhibitor chips out. Better to be safe than sorry you told them. Though at the time, you hadn’t even thought about how removing their chips would impact you and your abilities. You were too focused on keeping the Force out of your body to entertain that thought.

Wrecker suddenly gets up and gathers you in a bone-crushing hug. “Well you don’t have to worry now! We got those stupid chips out of our heads, which means I promise we won’t kill you!” he says cheerfully and you can’t help but laugh as you hug him back, the knot in your chest beginning to unravel. You could always count on Wrecker’s wonderfully big heart to raise your spirits.

“You’re right, big guy. It’s honestly a relief. One less thing I have to worry about.”

Wrecker lets go of you and you pick up where you left off. “As I was saying, Cad Bane isn’t a bounty hunter we can take lightly. Crosshair helped me re-engineer my blaster to turn it into a pseudo sniper with attachable parts during the war. Because I was so high up, I could get a clear shot of Bane. From that vantage point, I shot him at the same time Hunter and Bane shot each other.”

Echo’s mouth drops open. “Damn.”

“What I didn’t expect was for Hunter to be rendered completely unconscious. So I told Omega to try to comm you guys while I went on Bane’s ship to see if I could find anything. And I did.” You pull off your backpack and dump out the contents. Bags of credits come tumbling out. You unhook the few bags on your belt and toss them into the pile.

“Bane had a secret compartment with a lot of credits. So I took them and that crate I yelled at Tech to get,” you explain as you reach into the bag to show off the Imperial credits.

Tech’s eyes widen as he lifts up a bag to inspect it. “I will have to calculate how much you took and mark it in the inventory, but based on my initial deduction, this may be enough for us to upgrade the Marauder and provide sustenance for at least a few months.”

“Nice one!” Wrecker compliments and you grin in response. “What’s in the crate?” he asks, walking over to lift up the top.

“Medical supplies. We barely had any left so I figured I might as well take that too,” you shrug as Hunter gets up to join Wrecker to peer at the contents.

“What happened after that? You said you told Omega to comm the others, which means she was awake. Did she get hurt while I was out? Is that why you look so exhausted?” Hunter inquires, astute as ever.

You bite your lower lip. “When I was getting off his ship with the goods, he had woken up again. Before I could do anything, he stunned Omega and then immediately shot at me,” you pause, wondering if you should elaborate on how you got out of the situation. You decide to come clean on this part.

“I… I don’t know how, but I was able to stop the blaster bolts and keep them – and Bane – in stasis with the Force. The problem was that it took a lot out of me. After not really using the Force for so long, my energy reserves were pretty much gone,” you sigh, absentmindedly rubbing your arms. Your muscles are still sore from the event.

“After that, I punched him and knocked him out again. I dragged you and Omega away from the ship so that I could protect you, and I ended up using that giant piece of durasteel as cover to fight off those clones. Then you guys came and rescued us and that’s that,” you finish, suddenly fatigued from the conversation. You slump back into your chair, perfect posture be damned.

“Wow,” is all Echo says, surprised by your strength. It took some serious stamina to be able to withstand so much for so long. Echo remembered seeing Commander Tano and General Skywalker be exhausted after some especially intense missions where they constantly had to use the Force.

“Yeah,” you mutter, massaging your dominant hand. It is still throbbing from the mean hook you threw at Bane. You don’t have any regrets. You glance at Omega’s sleeping figure and soften. The things I would do for this girl.

“Looks like I taught you well!” Wrecker laughs and you smile. When you first met the Bad Batch, Wrecker took it upon himself to teach you basic self-defense and how to overtake an opponent intelligently. Even though you already learned how to fight as part of your Jedi and military training, you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so excited. But it paid off because he’s right. Wrecker did teach you well.

“You did. You basically saved my ass out there with your amazing teaching skills,” you chuckle, glancing down at your hand. You think you’ll probably have to cover it in bacta gel to speed up the healing process before having yet another realization. (You seem to be having a lot of those today.)

I can just Force-heal. Before, you couldn’t Force-heal because it would look suspicious if something healed too fast. But now that they know, you don’t have to solely depend on medical supplies anymore.

Tech, as always, is right on cue. “Is your hand alright? For you to render Bane unconscious must have been no easy feat. Not to mention that according to the medscan I just took, you have a mild concussion, most likely due to your fall. I can run a medical diagnostic test to start and then run more specific tests to combat your pain...” Tech mutters the last part to himself, brain running light years faster than his mouth as his fingers fly over the datapad.

You debate it for a moment before nodding. “That would be great, Tech–thanks. But right now, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to go and crash in my bunk. Wake me up if I need to punch someone again,” you joke before shuffling away from your squadmates. You ruffle Omega’s hair affectionately as you pass by her and pick up your blaster from the ground before climbing down the ladder. You don’t notice Hunter’s troubled gaze or how his Force signature sours a bit as you leave.

You quickly clean up and throw on some bacta patches on a few nasty bruises. You sit down on your bed and pull the privacy curtain before deciding to open up your secret compartment next to your mattress. You stare down at the objects, the only things you have left as a reminder of the past. You reach down for one of them, about to touch it when you stop.

You shake your head and shut the drawer. Deciding to finally, finally hit the hay, you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Dealing with the Force and healing yourself could be done later. Not even your constant pain and crippling worry about your family friends could keep you up any longer.

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

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