#his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joel-millerr · 3 years

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Choices Are Made in an Instant

Chapter Six of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.1k

Summary: You and Mando help Ahsoka in battle. Then, when you get back to the Crest, he starts acting weird. You couldn't have been prepared for what happens next...

Warnings: SMUT, dom/sub mentions, mild choking, (maybe a bit of edging?) aftercare, graphic depictions of violence, a sprinkle of fluff. mando is possessive af during sexy time

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“What’s the plan, again?” Mando asks you, not because he doesn’t know the plan, but because he wants to make sure you know the plan.

Scowling up at him as you sit on the floor of the Crest, Grogu slowly falling asleep in your lap, you roll your eyes when you see Mando put his hands on his hips like he’s annoyed with you.

“Seriously?”

His head tilts to the side, and then shifts his weight over to one leg. For someone who doesn’t like to talk about their feelings, he sure does wear his emotions on his sleeve. Mando’s body language is a dead giveaway as to what’s going on under that bucket of his.

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy.” You pick the kid up off the ground and hold him in your arm as you explain to Mando—for the third time, what’s going to happen.

“Ahsoka will storm the main gate and engage the guards. You and I are going to walk around the wall and find a way into the village without getting seen. The Magistrate—”

“Morgan Elsbeth.” Mando chimes in.

“Yeah, whatever.” Using your free hand to wave him off because who cares what her name is? “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted—Ahsoka needs some information from Elsbeth so she’s off limits.”

“Good. You remember.”

“You know—”

“Yes?” He probes.

Lips forming a thin line, and realizing he’s just trying to rile you up you shrug it off and bite your tongue, instead opting to put Grogu down inside Mando’s bunk. The Child looks up at you with his big eyes, babbling incoherently. You wiggle your finger in front of him, causing him to giggle excitedly.

“Are you sure he’ll be safe here, alone?” You ask Mando over your shoulder, continuing to play around the kid.

“There’s no one else out here but us, and I’m going to engage the ground security protocols once we leave.” He explains as he fiddles through his armory, gently placing his pulse rifle back on its hook, and reaching over to his jetpack and strapping it to his back. “Nothing will penetrate the Crest.”

It doesn’t do much to ease your anxiety but since Mando seems comfortable with this, then this must be the safest place for him to be. Air exhales through your slightly parted lips as you turn to the armory and grab a vibroblade from Mando’s stock, strapping it to your right thigh. As time ebbs on, the sound of the blood pounding in your ears becomes louder and louder, and you’re unable to stop the steady thumping of your heart against your ribcage. This feeling reminds you of spice running. The rush, the excitement, the worry of not knowing what could happen or if part of the plan could go wrong; it’s something you’ve always chased after.

The plan is almost foolproof, so you shouldn’t worry. Of course, the thought of something going wrong is always there in the back of your mind, but how often do you see a Jedi, a Mandalorian, and a smuggler working together? You’re almost certain this is the first time in the galaxy that this has happened, so how could you fail?

As you make your way to the ramp, you feel a rough leather glove grab hold of your wrist, and turns you around gingerly to face the Mandalorian.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, tone low and husky, and it strokes that part inside of you that forces you to rub your thighs together.

No matter how much time you two can spend being around each other, the moment you’re standing only inches apart—you can’t stop your heart rate from picking up. Your mouth dries up like the sand dunes on Tatooine, and the only thing you can focus on is how fucking intoxicating this man is.

“You can stay here with him.”

His hand is still on your wrist, and you look down to where leather meets your skin. His thumb brushes small, gentle circles on your wrist; an otherwise small token of affection, but taking into consideration that Mando is willingly giving you such a gesture, it makes you heart do cartwheels.

“And miss all the action?” A smile stretches across your face, arching an eyebrow at him. “No way, Mando.”

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Then you’ll need all the help you can get.”

He whispers your name softly and drawls out exhale that cuts up through his vocoder, as if your name is his way of begging you to reconsider. The ‘T’ of his visor stays glaring at you, but it’s damn near impossible to sway you from doing something once you’ve set your mind on it, so no matter how he stares, it won’t make much of a difference. He knows this isn’t a battle he’ll win. Your free hand reaches out, fingertips brushing against his elbow, hoping your touch will help calm his apprehensiveness about you coming along.

“Mando, I’ll be fine. I know you like to worry, but I’ve been in plenty of worse situations and I’m still here.”

Making a noise deep in the back of his throat, he gives you a quick nod and lets go of your wrist. A groan threatens to escape through your lips at the sudden lack of touch, but you manage to keep it under control as he breezes passed you, hearing his boots hit the durasteel ground as he descends the side ramp of the Crest. Taking one last deep breath and looking at Mando’s cot where Grogu is resting, you walk over to the panel by the door, and whisper “We’ll be back soon, kid,” before pressing the button to close the door, watching it come down with a hum. You turn on your heel and march down the ship to meet Mando, who waits patiently for you to join him before using his vambrace to shut the ramp.

You tread towards the village in a comfortable silence. Nightfall is especially unnerving here. The air feels dirty, like dust and ash mixed together, trekking through large gusts of wind as it almost knocks you off your feet. The sky is a dark mossy green, glooming over you, almost like there’s an ominous presence watching the night unfold. Three clicks away from the wall is where you meet Ahsoka. She’s wearing a long robe that aides her in hiding within the shadows, the hood pulled over her montrals, cloaking them from being detected. Her lightsabers, not laser swords like you thought they were called, dangle off her waist. You eye them curiously, wondering how it must feel to wield one of them. The thought makes you chuckle. If you really wanted to know what it felt like to hold such a beautiful weapon in your hand, you just had to find someone to train you, and then you’d be privy to it. A problem for another time, though. Right now, you had more important matters to worry about.

Just as you reach the woodland edge, Ahsoka turns to you and Mando and once again repeats the Magistrate is not to be harmed.

“Save the prisoners,” She reiterates.

Offering her a nod and a smile of reassurance, her hand touches your forearm, squeezing it gently. Mando detaches his right pauldron—the one with his signet engraved and hands it to Ahsoka. It looks like a mudhorn signet. You’re reminded of what Grogu had shown you just a few days ago. Mando battling the ferocious beast, and the Child, watching him on the brink of death, feeling his need to save the Mandalorian.

“We’ll go around the perimeter,” He announces, shooting you a quick look that you acknowledge by dipping your head downwards. “Just make my death believable.”

The corners of Ahsoka’s lips curl upwards. “Don’t worry about that.”

You and Mando break off, choosing to go to her left. Being mindful of where you walk, and making sure not to rise any suspicions by making noise and accidentally stepping on a broken twig, your eyes shift constantly between the ground and the giant wall just a few metres in front of you. Given your experience with sneaking around, you’re basically a master at keeping to the shadows.

Once Mando’s content with the distance you’ve put between yourselves and Ahsoka, he scans the area of lifeforms with his helmet. Beckoning with his hand, he moves forward with you following closely behind him. You crouch over, making yourself seem as small as you head straight for the fortified village.

“We’re going to have to climb it.” He says, realizing the sound of his jetpack would be too loud and alert the guards.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sneak around,” You jest.

Mando lifts an arm towards the top of the rampart and a grappling line shoots out from his vambrace, flying right over the top of the duracrete wall and latching onto the parapet. Tugging the rope to make sure it’s got enough of a sturdy grip for both of you to scale, he hands you the wire to climb first. Blood pounding in your ears and your heart racing faster than the fathier races on Canto Bight, you take the line from Mando’s hand and pull on it hard enough until your body is leaning backwards.

Your left foot presses against the rampart, making sure to balance yourself properly before your other foot hits the wall, then you begin scaling it. Mounting it quickly, you make it to the top in just under a minute—you can’t help but be impressed with yourself.

Once you climb over the parapet, you crouch down immediately, head whipping to the left then to the right to make sure there aren’t any soldiers in sight. In the distance you hear cries of pain, whooshing, and a loud bang. Ahsoka must have engaged the guards by now.

Taking notice that the coast is clear, you beckon for Mando to join you, and he scales the duracrete wall, beating your time by just a couple of seconds. Show off.

The village is a good… maybe thirty or forty feet drop, and the thought makes you groan. Already you can feel the ache in your legs and knees, but better to get it over with. As you’re about to jump off the wall, Mando’s arm comes flying out across your torso.

“What the hell are you doing?” He whispers through gritted teeth.

Standing there somewhat dumbfounded, your eyebrows pull closely together. “I was going to jump?”

“And break your legs in the process?” He asks rhetorically. Then, without waiting for your answer, he coils the grappling line around his arm that you used to scale the rampart and drops it on the other side of the wall.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?”

Your eyes dart over to Mando’s eye slit, narrowing them as you watch him climb down just as fast as he came up. When you hear him reach the ground and taking one last look around, you grab onto the line and head down into the village.

The fighting in the distance has stopped, you hope that means Ahsoka’s made it through the barricade of guards. Darting between alleys through the village, you can hear her voice echoing in the distance.

“Your bounty hunters failed.”

Making sure to keep your centre of gravity low as you continue to navigate through the huts, you follow Mando on his heels until you see Ahsoka in your sights. She’s standing just a few metres away from Elsbeth, who has her own platoon of armed soldiers behind her, holding the staff in her hand, alongside the gunslinger Lang.

“Tell me what I want to know.” Ahsoka says, voice calm and stern. “Where is your master?”

Elsbeth stays silent for a few seconds, scowling at Ahsoka, eyes burning into hers, rage all but spilling out of her words. “Kill her.”

Lang takes a step forward, hands gripping his gun fiercely as he says with amusement, “Love to.”

A blast of red shoots out from his gun, narrowly missing her as she jumps onto one of the roofs. Her lightsabers come to life, beams of white whirl around her as she blocks an onslaught of blaster fire. You want to help her, to take down just even one of the guards, and Mando seems to sense your urgency because he grips onto your arm as a warning. You can’t blow your cover, not yet. The guards need to follow Ahsoka and leave the prisoners alone so you and him can free them.

The Magistrate instructs Lang to take her battle droids with her before turning on her heel and stalking back towards her fortress. She orders the remaining two guards by her side to execute the prisoners. Shrieks and cries fill the air as the prisoners start begging for their lives, and then your feet move before your brain takes notice, running straight for the guards before Mando can pull you back into the shadows.

You come up behind the soldiers, just as one aims their gun to one of the men strung up. Your hand flies to your blaster, unholstering it and shooting him right between the shoulder blades. He cries and falls to the ground with a loud thud. The remaining guard pivots towards you, aiming his own rifle at you but is shot down by Mando before he can pull the trigger.

“You were supposed to wait for my signal,” He hisses through the helmet as he appears from behind one of the houses to join you.

“You were taking too damn long.”

“And why the hell is the safety on your blaster not on?”

Narrowing your eyebrows, your mouth opens to answer but you have trouble finding the words. “Uh—is that reallyimportant right now?”

He doesn’t answer, but sighs somewhat angrily. Okay…

In the corner of your vision, you see the elderly man from yesterday emerge from one of the huts. Out of reflex, you catch Mando pointing his blaster at him. The man’s palms fly up in defense and freezes. They exchange a series of glances, ending with Mando placing his blaster back in his holster. They make their way to one of the prisoners, trying to gauge how to free him without hurting him or themselves.

The sounds of gunfire in the background catch your attention. Looking over to Mando and the elderly gentlemen, you really want to go out there and fight.

What if Ahsoka needs backup?

Surely, you should help her, right?

Hands fidgeting at your sides, your body racing on adrenaline and the urge to make these soldiers pay for what they’ve done, you take one last glance over to Mando who instinctively looks back at you. By his body language, you know he understands what you want because he squares his shoulders and takes a tentative step towards you. Shaking his head, slowly but nothing shy of authoritative, basically warning you not to go after her. Giving him a shrug and lips forming a tight line, you whip your body towards the sounds of gun fire and disappear into the shadows.

“Get back here!” Mando’s voice come from the commlink on your wrist as you continue zig zagging through the city, following the sound of gunfire. Ignoring him, you turn the volume down on your commlink until it’s fully muted, as to not draw any attention to yourself. Your body is running entirely on the electricity pumping through your bloodstream right now. Senses heightened to a degree you’ve never experienced before. The wind brushing against your hot cheeks, hearing the thumping of your heart in your ears, you feel everything so much stronger, now. Maybe it’s because you’ve never being in such a gritty battle like this, but it’s so much more intense than any spice run you’ve ever done.

Navigating through the huts and keeping yourself hunched over, you look out for any potential threats, coming up on dead-end after dead-end. You’re running out of time, and need to find Ahsoka now.

A hand touches down on your shoulder, causing you to gasp a little too loudly. Reaching over your chest and gripping the hand tightly, you twist your body around to face them while pulling downwards on their arm, vibroblade flying into your free hand. Relief overcomes you when you see it’s Ahsoka.

“Felt like you were missing out?”

You give her a smile, tucking the blade back into its strap on your thigh, hand clutching your chest as you try to come down from the sudden alarm. “Little bit.”

The moment is short lived when a blast of red gunfire flies by the back of your head, missing you by only inches. Ahsoka wraps her arm around your back, pushing you behind her as her lightsabers come alight once again, using them to dodge and ricochet incoming fire. As she continues to block blasts, a guard emerges from behind you, giving you only a second of time for your blaster to come out of its holster and into your hand, shooting them down with two blasts. Just as his body hits the ground, a second soldier comes right for you from the left. Your free hand shoots up close to your body, palm facing him. Taking a step forward, your arm straightens out and the power of it sends the guard flying backwards, hearing his skull hit the ground with an echoing crack.

You don’t have time to process it, to think about the fact that you’ve just heard that man’s skull split because you propelled him so aggressively into the ground. Turning your body back towards Ahsoka, she continues to fight off blasts, one of them knocking a lightsaber out of her hand and sending it flying through the air, landing just a couple feet behind you. Without even taking a second to think about it, you dash for the lightsaber, gripping it with your hand just as you fall over onto your stomach. A black gloved hand grabs hold of your shoulder, flipping you onto your back. The man crouches down and presses his body into yours, each leg on either side of your body, pinning you to the ground. You wrestle for a few seconds, dodging some punches but ultimately taking a couple hits to your stomach. All of a sudden, a bright white light nearly blinds you—the lightsaber buzzes to life, and then you’re pushing it in your hand through the man’s chest, screaming as it impales him. The sound of flesh sizzling against the lightsaber makes your skin crawl, never before hearing such a foul noise. Maker, even the smell is agonizing. Something you never thought you’d ever experience. You’ve cauterized wounds before, but that was just kissing the skin. This? Fuck, this went through his body, burning his skin, bones, and whatever organs were in the saber’s way. Ego and pride aside, it makes you nauseous. Pushing his limp body off yours and rising to your feet, the smell still lingering in your nostrils, you attempt to shake it out of your mind and wrench your eyes shut for a moment. This isn’t the time to dwell on things.

Feeling the lightsaber in your hand, something in you changes. Everything stills for a moment. All of the insecurities you had about yourself, the feeling of having lost your way, not knowing which path to choose, it all comes together. The answer is around your fingertips, its power clearing your mind of the questions you so desperately wanted the answers to. For the first time in your entire life, you feel at peace, like you finally found your place in the galaxy.

A new power courses through your veins, enabling you to take down enemy after enemy with Ahsoka’s lightsaber. As you battle in between the huts, your eyes meet hers for a brief moment, and it’s almost like she understands how you’re feeling. After cutting down the last guard, your chest is heaving, body shaking as it burns off the adrenaline that was exuding from your body just seconds ago. You head over to where Ahsoka is standing, a pile of bodies surrounding her. Mindful not to step on anyone, you tiptoe around them and hand her her lightsaber.

“And?” She asks, head cocked to the side.

You can’t even find the words. How can you even describe such a feeling? All your anxieties solved in just one moment. Jaw nearly dropping to the floor, you want to say something but the only thing coming from your mouth is a laugh. Ahsoka smiles back, but it quickly disappears, leaving you to look into her eyes, she seems…sad? You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you table it for another time.

As you both make your way back to the main street of the village, she treks along the rampart of Elsbeth’s fortress. Once you clock the second gate ahead of you, Ahsoka leaps onto to the top of the wall, leaving you to meet Mando on the main road. Keeping to the shadows of the little houses around you, you see him standing just a few feet shy of the wall, hand hovering over the blaster strapped to his thigh. Towards the end of the cobblestone street is Lang, hands on his rifle.

No one speaks for a moment; Lang’s eyes shift between Mando and Ahsoka who stands at the top of the rampart. Your body is still shielded in the shadows, gauging Lang’s body language; waiting for the right moment to show yourself. Finally, Ahsoka turns her body and jumps into the Magistrate’s home, leaving you, Mando, and Lang behind.

“So, you threw in with the Jedi.”

Taking a quick look around, and noticing you to his right, he answers Lang, “Looks that way.”

Maker, you’ll never get tired of looking at him. Broad shoulders pushed back so his all-encompassing chest is on full display, practically toying with Lang because he knows they’ve lost, it’s not only intoxicating how much he turns you on, but it’s quite frankly obscene how your pussy gushes at the sight of him. His ability to stay calm, even when he’s seething with anger. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the heat of the moment, but watching Mando in his element, full of gusto and brawn…It’s quite a shock that some people choose to fight a Mandalorian rather than save themselves the trouble and simply surrender.

Sounds of beskar clashing with lightsabers ricochet through the air. Cries from both women pierce your ears. You want to see Ahsoka fight, curious to see how a Jedi battles with a formidable opponent, but you’re too transfixed on Mando right now to tear your eyes away even if for a moment.

“Who do you think’s gonna win?”

Mando doesn’t answer, just stays ever still, his cape flapping in the wind behind him. Lang takes a tentative step forward, and then another, and then another. “Could be your side…” He taunts. “Could be my side.”

He’s getting too close for comfort; you think to yourself. Stepping out from behind one of the homes, you make sure Lang sees you. Squaring your shoulders, you walk over to Mando cautiously, keeping eye contact with Lang the entire time. Once you’re by his side, your arms rest by your thighs, one hand gripping on your blaster.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that you were left behind… or dead,” The last word drips from his tongue like venom.

Clamping down hard on your jaw to keep yourself from snapping back, your free hand balls into a fist, white knuckling so aggressively, you’re digging half-moons into your skin.

He takes one more step forward.

“I got no quarrel with you two.”

Another step.

“That’s far enough,” Mando warns, his hand coming up to stop Lang in his tracks.

The Magistrate’s cries blend in with Ahsoka’s. The silence between resonances of weapons colliding become more and more frequent. The fight must be nearing its end.

“You know, we’re a lot more alike than you think.”

What in the kriffing hell is this man talking about? To think that you or Mando could ever be similar to someone like Langmakes you scoff, an empty laugh expelling from the back of your throat.

“All of us, willing to lay out lives for the right cause.” He says orotundly then pauses for a moment, listening to the two women fighting on the other side of the rampart. “Which this is not.”

He can’t honestly think either of you believe him, right?

All of a sudden, you hear the beskar staff hit the ground, bouncing a few times before everything becomes jarringly quiet. Tilting your head slowly in Mando’s direction, his visor keeps to Lang.

“Looks like you guys win.”

Holding out his gun in front of him, he shows you the weapon and ever so slowly places it down on the ground, motioning his surrender. Mando’s hand flexes over the blaster, gauging Lang’s next move. Without skipping a beat, Lang’s hand flies to a blaster at the back of his waist, but before he can even take it out of its holster, Mando’s own gun flies into his hand and shoots him down.

“Did you have your safety on before you shot him down?” You ask sarcastically, darting an eyebrow at him as holsters his weapon.

“Is that really important right now?” He repeats, using that same mocking tone that drives you fucking crazy.

Eyebrows pulling together in a frown and rolling your eyes, you reply, “I hate you,” while also trying to hide the dumbass smile that’s sneaking up on your lips.

The elderly gentlemen, who has apparently been watching you this entire time, emerges from his home. One by one, the villagers come out, stunned that they’re finally free. They cheer and holler, walking over to you both to give their thanks. Seeing the instant smiles on their faces fills you with warmth and pride. All the pain, all the cruelty they were forced to endure is gone. They can live the rest of their lives free of tyranny.

“WATCH OUT!” Someone cries. In a nanosecond, panic sets in, whipping your head in every direction trying to find the threat. Looking at the roofs, there’s the faint silhouette of a battle droid, crawling on one of the homes, its gun aimed right at Mando.

“Mando!” You shout. The droid’s weapon then switches to you, a red beam of light flies from his gun, hitting you right in the shoulder. The force of the hit sends your body flying backwards, landing hard on your back, head smacking the ground hard enough to make you dizzy.

The pain in your shoulder is fucking intense, the smell of sizzling clothes and burnt skin quite literally burning into your nostrils. Hand flying to your shoulder and pressing down on the wound to ease the bleeding and hopefully the pain, you realize your shoulder has been taking quite the hit lately. First the bruise, now a fucking gash.

Mando rushes to your side, holding the back of your head with one hand as he eases you to sit upright.

“Are you okay?” Baritone pulling rough through the helmet, panic sits at the back of his throat. The hand cradling the back of your head travels down to your lower back, the other reaching for your hand that’s keeping pressure on the place where the droid hit you.

Unable to answer, you groan low in your throat and gesture that you’ll be fine with a simple nod of the head. When you finally look over to Mando through hooded lids, the corners of your lips curl upwards in an attempt to prove to him that you’re fine. Folding your legs at the knees and using his forearm to pull you to your feet, he helps you stand up, keeping his hand on the small of your back the entire time.

“Kriff, that hurt.” You groan through jagged breaths. When your hand finally moves away from the injury on your shoulder, you peek down to see just how badly you were hit.

Thankfully, it’s actually not that bad. There is a gash where the blast connected with skin, but the bleeding has stopped significantly, although your tunic and hand are drenched with blood. You could probably cauterize it right away to close up the wound and then put some bacta on it once you get back to the Crest.

Mando’s still holding you. It’s like he’s too scared to let you go, like he needs to protect you and the only way he can think of doing it is to keep holding you. In any other moment, you’d be absolutely loving this, but right now? His body heat mixed with the fervor and throbbing from the gash near your clavicle is making you burn up. It’s when you finally take a step forward that his arm falls back to his side, fist balling up like he’s fighting the urge to keep you in his reach.

“The droid dead?” You manage to say through winces of pain, hunching over.

“Yeah.” He says breathlessly.

“Okay, good.”

As more and more villagers approach you both, they continue to give you their appreciation and continuously asking if there’s anything they can do to thank you. An elderly woman even retreats back to her home and comes out just a few minutes later with a medpac for your gash. Initially, you reject her kind offer, insisting that you can wait till you’re back on the ship for your wound to be taken care of, but after she continue to argue that you should accept a bit of help, you take it graciously. They seat you down on one of the cobblestoned steps, and begin wiping away at the dried blood, trying to be mindful not to touch the actual wound.

“We can’t thank you enough,” She says kindly.

“You’re—ah shit—” You try to thank her, but despite her best efforts, you’re still in quite a tremendous amount of pain. “Sorry. It’s our pleasure, really.”

Once she’s done cleaning up the blood, you look down at your shoulder to see that the wound isn’t even as big as you initially thought. The blood splattered around your shoulder had made it seem much worse than it actually was. It’s barely the size of a Calamari Flan coin. It’ll definitely scar, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Your husband doesn’t ever take his helmet off?” She asks, trying to keep you distracted as she begins to spray bacta on it.

Completely taken aback by the word ‘husband’, you blurt out a laugh. “Husband? Oh no, he’s not my husband. We’re just…” Your voice trails off because in truth, you have no idea what your relationship to Mando is anymore. It doesn’t seem appropriate to say that you two are friends because your relationship has certainly developed passed that, but to go so far as to say you’re…together doesn’t really seem to fit your situation either.

“Oh, my apologies.” Shaking her head like she’s embarrassed by assuming the nature of your relationship, you place a hand over hers and smile.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize.”

“I just assumed that because of the way he was so concerned for your health after getting shot by that droid…”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mull over how Mando held onto you for a lot longer than he needed to when you finally got to your feet. How he stood so close to you, even when you assured him you were okay. How he still looks over to you every couple of minutes while he talks to Ahsoka, like he needs to watch over you.

You watch as Ahsoka hands the staff over to Mando, who seems to hesitate to accept it at first, but is eventually persuaded to take it. He takes a moment to speak into his commlink, your wrist comes alive to the sound of his voice.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Will you be okay here, alone?”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, and you attempt to hide it by biting down on your lip. Bringing your wrist up to your lips, you press on the talking button on the comm, “Yes, I’ll be fine, Mando.”

As Mando disappears into the forest, Ahsoka makes her way over to you, just as the elder is finished addressing your wound. She’s put a bacta patch on your laceration now, its cooling sensation untensing your muscles and relaxing you almost instantly.

“Thank you.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, giving you a gentle squeeze before letting you go, and hobbling back over to her home.

The city is full of life now, residents cheering and conversating. The children are running around, laughing and shouting with joy, even kicking a ball around the main cobblestoned road. It’s such a stark contrast from the city you and Mando had entered just two days ago.

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you pat the dust and dirt off your pants and face Ahsoka.

“How the shoulder?” She asks.

“I’ll be fine. It was barely a scratch.” You joke. She laughs in response. The first moment of genuine happiness you’ve seen on her face since you two met.

You both begin to take a leisure stroll through the village, noting how different the villagers seem now the Magistrate is gone. It’s such a fulfilling moment for you. For most of your life, you’ve behaved selfishly, usually only caring about yourself and doing whatever was in ever was in your own self-interest, and now you’ve just helped hundreds of people. You don’t want to put yourself on a pedestal, but if you’re being entirely transparent, you’re pretty proud of the change that’s happening to you. This? You could get used to this.

“If I did want to train…”

Ahsoka turns her head to face you once you address her. “Yes?”

“Like…How would I go about doing that?”

She stops walking, looking down at the ground. “You need to learn to control your emotions before you can even think of training. You’re pretty reckless.” Her voice stays kind, but she’s very much warning you of the difficult road ahead if you choose to go down this path. “I worry that your own attachment to the Mandalorian will be your undoing.”

You could argue with her, you could say that there is no such attachment, but if you were to be completely honest with yourself, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t something there. It’s almost unbelievable to come to terms with the fact that you’ve developed some kind of connection with him, especially when you used to pride yourself on the idea that you had transformed into the type of person that did not become invested in someone else but Mando is different. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

He’s full of mystery. An enigma that you could learn about every day for the rest of your life and never even scratch the surface. Mando can be cold and callous in one moment, then tender and kind in the next. It quite literally makes your head spin. He can be so distant, and then all of a sudden, he can’t bear to be away from you. The inability to know what he’s thinking or what he wants just reels you in even more. You want to know everything about him, to feel like you’re a part of him, that you’re more than just someone passing through his life.

“Surely, the two can coexist?”

Ahsoka doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes leave you to look up at the sky, as if searching the clouds for help. “Asking that question just proves that you aren’t ready to train. Attachments clouds the ability to see reason. If you let your attachments control you, you can never act solely based on the good for all. You’ll always put your loved ones first, and that’s something the Jedi do not do.”

Your lips press into a thin line.

“If you want this, you have to realize what you’ll be giving up. What you’ll end up denying yourself later on.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “There will come a time when you’ll need to make a choice. To embrace the way of the Jedi, or walk away forever.”

“It’s just…” You begin shifting, pacing around as the words come to you. “Ahsoka, the darkness I feel inside me? It scares me, like I’m never actually in control of it.”

“The Dark Side is powerful. It’s something you’ll fight your entire life as a Jedi, but it’ll become easier to deal with as the training progresses.”

“When I held your lightsaber…” Voice trailing off, you let out a small chuckle. Her lips curl into a smile, she knows the feeling all too well.

“I know.”

As you both stand at the gates of the village, the newly appointed Magistrate—the old man that aided Mando in rescuing the hostages, approaches you both, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you again for saving the village.” His eyes are kind, the wrinkles on his forehead giving you an insight as to the many years of injustices and struggles he’s had to face, as well as the hope he’s held that his people would one day be free once again.

Dipping your head downward, he grabs your hand in his, shaking it twice before turning to Ahsoka. “The New Republic will be here soon for Ms. Elsbeth. If there’s anything else you’d like to question her about, now would be the time.”

“Mando should be here by now…” You remark, noticing that it’s been too long since he left.

Ahsoka nods in agreement. “Go. I’ll catch up with you.” She doesn’t wait for your response before following the Magistrate back into the city walls.

During the walk back to the Crest, you continue to go over everything Ahsoka’s told you over the last two days, weighting out your options. You’re not like Mando. You’re not a Mandalorian, nor are you a bounty hunter, so naturally you couldn’t expect to stick with Mando once you get all of this figured out. Going back to spice seems irresponsible, given that you know you were destined for something better. Moreover, now that you know why you’re different, it would see inappropriate to ignore that side of you and continue to live a life where your powers were wasted. Maybe this is something you could discuss with Mando. Maybe he’ll offer a different view that you hadn’t thought of before.

When you catch sight of the Crest, you suddenly feel a bit nervous, almost shy. You can hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as you near the ship, and clutch your chest with your hands when you see what’s happening inside the ship.

Mando’s sitting by his cot, one leg resting on the edge of the bed, Grogu seated on his thigh, and speaking gently to him. Even if you tried not to get sentimental about it, you’d never get tired of seeing how endearing Mando is with the Child. Every moment is more precious than the last, warming your heart and making you fall for the Mandalorian even more. You know he doesn’t need it, but you want to protect them both—to keep them both safe from anyone who would ever try to harm them, and on some level, you think Mando would do the same.

“Hey,” You announce as you get closer to the edge of the ramp, making your presence known so that he hopefully doesn’t think you spent the last minute gawking at them during their little intimate moment.

As you approach them, Mando rises to his feet and walks over to you, holding Grogu with both arms. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Much better. The bacta really helped,” You answer, keeping your voice low as to not wake him. Grogu’s eyes flutter open, head tilting to the side when he sees you.

“Hi, little guy.” Your index finger gently boops him on the nose, causing him to giggle in Mando’s arms. Although you don’t know for sure, you have an inclination that Mando’s watching you, and when you look up away from Grogu, sure enough the eye slit in his helmet is pointed at you.

“You’re like a father to him.”

Your turn your body around and see Ahsoka standing at the end of the ship, arms crossed against her chest. Mando heads down the ramp first, and you follow closely behind him.

“I cannot train him.” She says, a bit of disappointment hidden in her voice.

“We had a deal, and we held up our end.”

Letting out a deep breath, Ahsoka takes a step towards Mando and takes Grogu’s little hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his tiny claws.

“There is one possibility.”

“We’re all ears,” You reply.

“Have you heard of the planet Tython?”

“No.” Mando answers dryly.

“It has a strong connection to the Force. There you will find the ancient ruins of a Temple atop one of the mountains. Place Grogu on the seeing stone and wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For Grogu to choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there is a chance that a Jedi might sense him and come searching for him.” She looks down at the ground for a moment, before pulling her eyes away from the dirt to look at you. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

“Thank you.” He answers sincerely, then turns on his heel and heads back into the Crest.

You take a step towards Ahsoka and wrap your arms around her, giving her a gentle squeeze before pulling again. “I hope our paths cross again.”

“This will not only be a test for Grogu, but for you as well. You will need to make a choice.”

“I know…”

Her head dips down, offering you a farewell smile. “May the Force be with you.”

Heading back into the ship and closing the ramp, you hear the Crest’s thrusters come to life, finally feeling like you now have a purpose.

“Do we have enough fuel to make to it to Tython?”

“We’ll have enough to get there, but not enough to leave. We’ll have to make a stop beforehand to refuel.”

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. You look out through the transparisteel and watch the stars change from small specks in space to giant rays of light as you beam passed them, and then cockpit is surrounded by waves of baby blues similar to the waters on Naboo.

“Hey, where are we headed?” You ask once Mando rises from the pilot’s chair.

“You ever been to Coruscant?”

Fuck. “There’s nowhere else we can go?”

He walks over to where you’re still seated. At this angle, your eyeline is pointing right at…that. Trying to look anywhere but there, you opt to tilt your head at high as it can go so you can look at Mando in the ‘T’ of his visor. Maker, don’t you dare even peak down there.

“Is there a problem with going there?” He asks in jest, head tilting ever so slowly to the side. When you don’t immediately answer, he takes an excruciatingly slow step forward. He’s now almost touching your knees with his, making it even more difficult not to look down and catch sight of his—kriff, pull yourself together!

“No—” You squeak, your voice embarrassingly high. “I mean,” Clearing your throat in an effort for it to go back down to its normal octave. “No, that’s fine.”

Mando hums smugly in his helmet before disappearing through the cockpit door and descending down the ladder.

Uh… what the hell was that about? Was Mando acting…coy? No, surely you were misreading things. He’s not like that. He doesn’t joke around or act smug…right?

Sleep.

You should get some sleep.

Shifting around in your unbearably uncomfortable chair until you’re in a somewhat comfortable position—which is just you sitting upright in the chair with your leg crossed over the other, you fold your arms across your lap and close your eyes, hoping it won’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You can hear a light scuffle in the hull, and you try to ignore it, but now that you’re aware of the sound, it’s impossible for you to ignore it and try to get some sleep. All you can focus on is trying to ignore the sound which just makes the noise that much louder. Letting out a groan in annoyance, you move around even more in your seat hoping you’ll be able to find some kind of position that’s more comfortable, but to no avail.

Not only is the noise annoy the hell out of you, but you’re completely hung up on your interaction with Mando just a few moments ago. He usually doesn’t get that close to you unless he thinks you’ve been injured, but there he was, willingly getting closer and closer. Actually, it seemed like he was enjoying watching you squirm and get frazzled by how close he was to you.

Just when the sound stops, you hear heavy boots hit the metal rungs of the ladder. Great, he’s coming back.

You sense Mando reach the top of the ladder before you see him. Although, he doesn’t directly step into the cockpit. After a couple seconds of still not seeing him, you look over your shoulder to see where he might be, but you end up craning your neck to an uncomfortable amount and still no sight of him.

Fuck it. You jump to your feet and face the door to the cockpit, and see him standing like a goddamn statue. He’s still in full armour, but you definitely notice something different about him. His fists are balled up together at his sides, black eye slit pointed directly at you, and by the way his shoulders rise and fall, his breathing is uneven. As your eyes travel downwards from his helmet down to his feet, you can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. Shit.

Your mouth instantly goes dry, your own heartrate picking up slowly, heating pooling in your belly. This isn’t the first time you’ve both been in this exact situation. It happened before on Sorgan, but somehow this is a hundred times more intense. Maybe it’s because of the rush from today, maybe it’s because you’ve tasted him before, but whatever was on your mind right before this moment is totally gone.

Right now, you can feel the blood pounding in your ears, you can feel the fucking heat radiating off Mando, your panties sticking to you like glue because of your slick, causing your pussy to fucking throb.

You want to say something snarky, but words are something you’re not even able to come up with, you’re so fucking spellbound by him that nothing in this galaxy could pull you away. He’s got you entirely wrapped around his leather finger and he hasn’t even said a word to you.

A broken moan forms at the back of Mando’s throat, coming out rough and distorted. It reminds you of his sobs the night his cock was wrapped around your lips. You want to run to him, feel his big arms pull you closer to him, but you need to know he wants this as badly as you do, so you wait. You wait for him to speak, to make the first move.

“I—” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s struggling to find the words.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.” You say breathlessly.

He takes a step towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. His own chest is heaving, his quick breaths cutting through his helmet. “Fuck.”

Realizing how hard this must be for him—admitting how he feels, you step closer to him. Now, you’re just arm’s length away. If one of you reached out, you’d touch the other and it’s becoming more difficult with every second that goes by not to jump into his arms, rip that helmet off his face and kiss every inch of his skin, but you won’t. You would never touch him in a way that would compromise his creed.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about bending you over that control panel and fucking you until you begged me to stop?” He nearly growls. Voice so rough and low, you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips.

Your pussy gushes in response. “Maker…”

He inches closer to you, taking his sweet, agonizing time as he continues to taunt you. “I’ve thought about it ever since I picked you up on Kijimi.”

Another inch.

“I thought about it in the alley with my hand touching your drenched, sweet cunt.”

Another inch.

“I thought about pulling you off my cock and pounding into you right against that wall.”

The heat coiling in your stomach is so fucking intense, you can feel it all over your body. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, jaw slacked so you can breathe in quick little bursts of air. He’s standing merely inches away from you, and you want to reach out and touch him. You want him inside you, but you’re frozen, unable to move. Unable to break free from the trance he’s put you in. All you can do is stand there helplessly as he continues to torture you with his confessions.

“But I was able to control myself.” He grits out, head tilting ever so slowly to the side.

“Mmm…” Is all you can say. Your mind is on fire, your body’s on fire. Everything’s fucking on fire.

“I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

Only one word comes to mind now. Once you say it, your relationship to the Mandalorian will never be the same. It’ll definitely make it harder to choose between Mando and following the way of the Jedi but quite frankly, right now, you really don’t give a shit. You want this. You want Mando, and nothing is going to come between you and him. “Good.”

Finally, he closes the tiny gap between your bodies and wraps a big arm around the small of your back, spinning you around and pushing you up against the door to the cockpit. You yelp at his swiftness when you feel metal hit your back, but it’s still not fast enough.

You want more.

You need more.

“Mando…” You moan helplessly.

The shakiness of his breath, kriff, you really want to drop to your knees and make him feel so good. His hands try to touch every part of you. They settle on your waist and he flips you around. Your face nearly smacks into the door but you’re able to catch yourself before your cheek makes contact, hands bracing up against the wall. He grinds his hips into yours, and you feel the outline of his cock nuzzle against your backside.

“If I’m too rough…” He begins to say, but you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I’m not fragile, Mando. Do what you want with me.”

“Fuck,” He punches out, fist hitting the door in front of you. “Y-you can’t say things like that to me.”

“I want you to,” You make sure to drawl out your words, to make sure he really hears you, so that he knows you want this just as badly as he does.

The sound that comes next is almost animalistic. It’s somewhere between a cry and a snarl, but it’s the sweetest, most arousing sound you’ve ever heard. It’ll be something you replay over and over in your mind.

His hands travel down to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your pants and yanking them down in one swift motion. A brown leather glove flies to your throat, using his thumb and index finger to press on that sweet spot right under your jawline. You sob brokenly as he continues to apply more pressure on your neck, but still gentle enough for you to know he’ll never actually hurt you.

“M-Ma-n-ndo…” You manage to choke out.

Mando hums in the back of his throat, pressing his body into you even more. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and your hands leave the wall to fumble around behind you, trying to touch him. With his free hand, he grabs hold of both your wrists and holds them in place behind you. “Let me take care you, pretty girl.” He purrs, his baritone dangerously low.

When his hand leaves your throat, you whine at the sudden lack of pressure. Cupping your jaw, he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, your tongue darts out and tastes leather. Two fingers force themselves into your mouth, and Mando growls into your ear. “Bite.”

You obey like the good girl you are, biting and tugging on the glove until it comes right off his hand. He takes it from you and tosses it on the ground, revealing his beautifully tanned skin. It’s a little embarrassing how just the sight of his hand makes your pussy pulse, but everything about Mando draws you in. His smell, his stoic demeanor, even his fucking hand.

As his naked hand travels back down your body, fingertips barely touching your tunic, it’s driving you crazy. He’s taking his sweet ass time, reveling in the fact that he has you completely spell bound against him. You can’t move, you can’t shift under him and create more friction for yourself. No, you’re going at his pace, which is making you fucking dizzy.

When his hand reaches the edge of your underwear, sending shivers down straight to your throbbing cunt, your body is basically shaking from the lack and overwhelming amount of stimulation all at once. It’s too much, yet it’s nowhere near enough. A thumb begins to trace the skin around the waistband of your underwear, tantalizing you. Your broken sobs echo through the cockpit, and then in a second, his hand pushes passed the thin material and cups your sex.

“Fuck!” You cry out.

“Look how wet you are, and I’ve barely touched you,” He whispers.

Pushing your ass out and rubbing against his cock, you feel him twitch in his pants as you continue to tease him. The hand on your cunt disappears and wraps itself around your throat again, pressing into your flesh just enough for you to stop grinding your hips. When Mando speaks next, he growls through gritted teeth. “Do that again, and I’m stopping. Do you understand?”

Your throat is dangerously dry, and all you can do is moan in response.

“No, pretty girl. I need you to use your words. Do you understand?” He says again, this time in a much gentler tone, but without relinquishing any of his control over you.

“Yes,” You whisper breathlessly.

“Good girl,” He praises, and then his hand is back on your pussy. His fingers rub between your folds, sending shockwaves through your body as he starts collecting your slick on his calloused fingertips, and then he’s rubbing tight, quick circles around your clit. You mewl helplessly into the door, forehead pressed against door with such force, it’s actually starting to hurt, but in the best way possible. You wouldn’t dare move from the spot you’re in right now, not when Mando continues his agonizingly slow assault on your bud.

“I’m going to let go of your wrists now,” He begins to instruct, his head resting on your left shoulder. “And you’re going to be a good girl and keep them there, right?”

Your orgasm begins to build in your stomach, the rhythm on your clit never faltering. “Y-y-yes,” You answer, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Letting go of your wrists, you do as you were told and keep them behind you on the small of your back. You hear him fumble with his utility belt and pants. Panting and having to manually control your breathing because air just isn’t fucking coming into your lungs fast enough, your body starts to shake from the white-hot pleasure, causing your hands to clench violently. Mando thrusts his body against you once again, almost flattening you on the door, but now you feel his free cock pressing between your ass, feeling drops of precome graze your skin.

His hand drenched in your slick, you’re on the verge of coming. Breathing picking up even more, he must sense you’re close because his rhythm gets quicker and quicker, nearly pushing you over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna c-come, Mando.”

“Already? Hmm,” He hums proudly. A gloved hand comes up to your throat, using his thumb and index to choke you again. The pressure on your throat and cunt is making your head fucking spin. It’s too much all at once, your orgasm teetering right now. This is so much more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Come for me,” He commands gently in your ear.

Head lulling back, your knees are about to give out, but he never stops. He develops a pattern now, rubbing even tighter circles on your clit and then brushing his fingers through your soaking folds, then back to your bud.

“Fuck fuck, fuck, Mando!” You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire body. He doesn’t stop though. As you cry out, riding out your climax, he slams his gloved hand over your mouth, muffling your cries; still continuing his pace between your thighs. Practically convulsing from the overstimulation, your knees almost completely cave in, and you almost feel your body going limp, but Mando keeps you steady.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He praises.

You don’t even have time to come down from your climax before he’s thrusting a thick finger allll the way inside of you. Flexing it in and out of your pussy and body trembling, if you don’t grab onto something, you’re sure you’ll drop to the ground. Broken sobs stifled by leather, feeling the corners of your eyes getting wet with tears, your mind is going fucking blank. Maker, the Mandalorian is going to be the death of you.

Pushing a second finger into you, your eyes wrench shut. He eases them in and out of you at a deliciously slow rate, sometimes choosing to roll his fingers inside you before pulling out. One of your hands grabs onto his vambrace, using that as a means of staying upright because you’re hanging on by a thread right now. This is the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. No one has ever even come close to making you feel the way Mando is, and you’ll never be able to be with anyone else after this. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, but you’re literally coming apart under him. He pushes two gloved fingers inside your mouth and orders you to bite down again. You do as your told and his hand yanks free of the glove, tossing it to the ground like he did with the other glove.

His precome continues to paint your back and backside, and you start begging and pleading.

“Please, Mando…”

“Please what?” He asks, and then he’s fucking curling his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars. You cry out again, feeling a second orgasm bubbling to the surface.

“Please, f-fuc-c-k me. Please, Mando I need you inside me.”

“Mmmm,” He drones deep in his throat. Flexing his fingers inside you once more time before pulling out, you feel suddenly empty.

Need more.

Using the slick he’s gathered on his hand, you look over your shoulder and can barely make out him smearing it all over his thick length. “Gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up, and fuck that pretty cunt of yours until you can’t fucking walk.”

All you can do is mewl back, a broken sound that he barely notices. Mando grabs hold of the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down to your knees. One hand digging into your waist, the other holding his length, he starts to rub his cock between your sopping folds, gathering even more slick. Once he seems satisfied hearing your broken sobs, he angles himself to your entrance, and pushes just the tip into you.

Kriff, you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to take all of him.

He stills for a moment, and then he’s back to pushing himself against your cunt.

Fucking unbelievable.

Mando’s teasing you, getting off on the sweet torture he’s putting you through. Every time you think he’s about to fill you up, he pulls away and continues to toy with you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but then pulling away at the last second.

“Mando!” You whimper.

“Shhh…” He scolds, giving you gentle slap on your left buttcheek. “I want to take my time.”

He continues his gradual onslaught, and then finally, he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, and ever so slooowly eases an inch of himself in your entrance.

Maker, he’s huge. Even with just an inch inside of you, he fills you up, your walls clamping around him in an attempt to stop him from pulling away again. “Fuuck.” He drawls out through shuddered breaths. “You’re tight, pretty girl.”

You don’t answer because you can’t. Words are no longer a thing inside your mind. Just Mando.

“You’re mine.” He snarls, pushing another inch of himself inside you.

Something like a sob escapes your lips.

“No one else will ever get to touch you like this.”

Another painful inch. You can feel the veins around his girth pushing against your walls.

“I’ll kill anyone who comes close to you, do you understand me?” Mando doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues to push himself more and more into your pulsating cunt. He must be almost fully inside you now. It burns, almost painful. It’s uncomfortable but it’s so fucking good, it feels so fucking amazing to be filled up by the Mandalorian. A delicious pain you’ll be thinking about for days.

With both hands on your hips, he seems to lose control for a second because the next thing you know, he stills for a moment, his helmet dropping to rest in between your shoulders, and then he’s grinding even more of himself into you. Kriff, how fucking big is he?

When Mando finally fucking pounds into you, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision go blank, you scream out, feeling completely stuffed to the brim. “Fuck!”

He’s so much bigger than you thought. Your walls flex around him, your pussy is on fucking fire right now, pain and pleasure mixed together to form a delicious cocktail, you’re drunk on this feeling. Mando widens his stance to steady himself, and pulls out just enough for only the tip of his head touching your walls and then slams into you so hard, your entire body flattens against the door, his cuirass digging into your back.

“Ah shit!” He swears breathlessly. Mando’s barely began fucking you, and a second orgasm is seconds away from unleashing electricity through your entire core.

“I can feel you clenching around my cock, sweet girl. Are you going to come again?” He taunts deliciously, pulling out once more and snapping back into you with such force, it blinds you momentarily. Bending your knees and using one his hands to push down on your back so you’re arched with your ass out—almost sitting back on his cock, he wraps a hand around your throat and begins pounding into you like an animal. The sound of skin slapping skin pierces through the cockpit, you can’t even make a sound. Your pussy clenches once again, climax nearing.

Two rough fingers find their way to your clit, and rub tight circles on your bud, the sounds of his length thrusting in and out of you are downright obscene.

“Be a good girl and come for me again,” He orders, voice so deliciously low in your ear. You last only a couple more seconds before a second orgasm rips right into you. White-hot pleasure tears through you, the ecstasy so intense, tears are streaming down your face at a constant rate. He doesn’t relent, just continues to plow into you over and over and over again.

“Fu-ck, you feel so fucking good. I’m g-gonna, shit, I’m gonna c-come.” He pants, his rhythm beginning to falter as he approaches his own climax. “Wh-ere should I…?”

“Inside…please.” You choke out.

“Kriff, are, a-are you sure?” He punches out, thrusting deeper into you between each word.

“Im—implant,” Is all you can manage to say, but it seems to be enough for Mando, because he uses the remaining strength he has to pound into you a few more times before his own orgasm hits him.

“F-fuck, pretty girl.” He grits out as his cock starts pumping his seed into your worn-out, swollen cunt. He sheathes himself one more time, reaching that sweet spot inside you before ever so slowly starting to ease out of you. Being the brat you are, using all the strength you can muster—which isn’t very much right now, you fiercely clench around his cock, causing Mando to cry out in the back of his throat.

“Maker, you don’t want me to leave, do you?” He says, shuddering but ending with a soft chuckle. “Well go on then, squeeze out every bit of come out of my cock like a good fucking girl.”

And so you do. You continue to squeeze down on his length, milking every single drop of his seed until you feel it trinkle down your legs. As soon as his hands leave your body, your knees cave in and you double over, nearly falling right on the cold metal floor, but Mando manages to wrap an arm around your waist before you do, holding you upright. Lifting you off your feet, he pulls you close to his chest, hooking his arms under your legs and around your back. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean your cheek against his cuirass. Beskar cools the heat on your face, and you swear you could fall asleep right now in his arms. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, nostrils filling up with the smell of sex and gunpowder, your eye flutter shut, feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet.” Baritone low and gentle. “We need to get you cleaned up first.”

“Mmm,” You mumble in protest. “ ‘M gonna sleep here.”

“Hey,” He repeats, this time more commanding. “You’ll need to climb down the ladder, can you do that?”

Pouting and wanting to resist, but knowing Mando won’t take no for an answer, you give in. “Fine,” You answer, petulantly.

He puts you down gently, making sure that when your feet touch the ground, you’re able to stand up straight on your own. He pulls your underwear and pants back up from your knees. His come mixed with yours sticks to your underwear, and you hate to admit it, but he’s right. You definitely need to clean yourself up before falling asleep. Legs still buckling, Mando opens the cockpit doors and heads down the ladder first.

“Okay, come down.” He whispers kindly.

Kriff, your whole body is shaking. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to make it down those stairs without falling back. As you begin to descend the ladder, your grip on the rung loosens and you slip. Thankfully, Mando’s waiting at the bottom of the ladder and catches you in his arms before you could hurt yourself. Leaning on his pauldron is the only way you’re able to stand up, so you continue to lean into him as he guides you over to the fresher.

“Will you be able to clean yourself up?”

Looking up at the visor through hooded lids, you nod your head slowly. The possibility of you falling asleep in the fresher is very real, but you could try not to…

“Dank farrik…” He swears to himself. Mulling over his options with your half-asleep body leaning into him, he must realize there’s only one option available. “You’ll have to keep your eyes closed the entire time, okay?”

You look up at him sheepishly. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” He repeats. “You can’t—”

“I won’t look, Mando. You can trust me.”

A drawn-out sigh emits from the helmet, but he seems to be satisfied enough with your comment. Keeping yourself steady by holding down on his pauldrons, you watch as he carefully begins to remove your pants and underwear, gently telling you to step out of them and tossing them to the side.

“Lift your arms,”

He pulls your tunic over your head, and even though you’re absolutely wrecked and exhausted, being completely naked in front of the Mandalorian while he stands there, fully clothed and wearing his armour, you begin to feel a bit self-conscious, and try to cover up your body with your hands and arms.

“What…are you doing?” He asks, head tilting to the side.

“Feel so exposed,” You mutter.

“Now you feel exposed? Not when my cock was inside you?” He jests.

“Mmm, that was before.”

Mando sighs once again, the sound breaking apart like static through his helmet. “Get in the fresher, I’ll be there soon.”

“M’okay.”

Turning around sleepily, you head into the refresher and turn the water on. Kriff, it feels good. Standing directly under the hose, you let the water cascade down your body, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth that tickles your skin.

“Okay, eyes closed,” Mando says, voice no longer modulated by his helmet. Maker, his voice is heavenly. Curse the helmet he wears, covering up a sound as sweet as Mando’s voice. Smooth like silk, you wish you could listen to him for hours, undistorted and naked. Keeping your promise, your eyes wrench shut, palms coming out trying to find him in the small space you’re both sharing. You feel his hands meet yours, your own feels so small in his. Calloused fingers trail up your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin and you purr into him.

And then, he’s gently massaging the bar of soap across your body, ridding your body of the grime and sweat from the day. It’s ridiculously intimate, and it’s actually quite surprising how gentle he’s handling you, given the fact that he kills people with those same hands, but it’s incredibly endearing. The entire time he cleans you up, your hands are resting on his broad shoulders. Suddenly, you feel him get closer to you, and you’re forced to back up, feeling the wall touch your bare back. Mando leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. You need to crane your head upwards to meet his, but it’s not uncomfortable. This is probably the first time his face has been touched by another being since…well you’re not sure when because you’ve never actually asked him when the last time he took his helmet off was, but you assume it’s been years.

“When’s the last time you took off your helmet in front of another person?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, not only because your vocal cords are shot from all the obscene noises you made before, but also because you’re scared that if you speak too loudly, he’ll dismiss your question.

“I was just a child.”

“You don’t ever want to show your face?”

The water trinkles over both your faces and bodies, hands carded together.

“This is the Way.” He answers plainly, but you sense a bit of uncertainty in the way he speaks. It’s almost like he’s lost the true reason for covering his face—that there came a time in his life where he began to question his Creed, but still feels like he has an obligation to adhere to it.

You want to see his face. There are so many questions that you wish you had the answers to.

Do the corners of his eyes wrinkle when he laughs?

Does he have any scars or dimples?

Have the many years of fighting and surviving aged his face beyond his actual age?

What color are his eyes?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever know the answers to those questions, but truthfully, it doesn’t really matter. You don’t need to know all those aspects of him because they’re simply just arbitrary details. Everything that you really need to know, you’re already aware of.

And what you know is, you’re in love with a Mandalorian.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian smut #we are one when together #fics

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floralovebot · 3 years

Note

Helia and Tecna friendship headcanons? -lambofzenith

AHHHHHHHHHH okay so

helia is really bad at technology right? pretty much anything that isn't covered in red fountain lessons, he's a complete no-go at. tecna takes it upon herself to try and help him understand basic technology a bit more and it goes so wrong. helia is literally the mom that squints their eyes and holds their phone away from their face while using One pointer finger to type everything. tecna hates it so much.

helia naturally doesn't understand a single thing that comes out of her mouth when she's talking technology but he still supports her nonetheless

helia is surprisingly rational most of the time! he's a firm Push All My Emotions Down And Then One Day I'll Die kind of person so even during really stressful missions, he's good at keeping a level head about things. tecna really appreciates this and it's not rare to see her, helia, and timmy discussing mission-related strategies During The Middle Of A Fight

tecna has a tendency to talk while she works (only noticeable around people she's comfortable with though) but she gets a little self-conscious about it. she knows it's not Bad or anything, but it doesn't seem Right either so she tries to keep quiet most of the time. helia on the other hand is so used to working while it's noisy that he's totally chill with it. they've gotten used to just vibing in the same room, working on their own things, and not actually talking to each other during it. they're comfortable around each other :) helia doesn't mind when she rambles out loud and tecna doesn't mind him pacing around the room every five minutes. symbiotic relationship.

tecna doesn't like talking about what she went through in the omega dimension, even with timmy. however, she does occasionally draw things out when she really needs to vent and can't think of any other way how. she's always been good at sketching due to her background in designing gadgets so this wasn't a weird transition for her. helia told her about this anonymous place for artists to submit their art with absolutely no names attached and after checking to make sure it was legit and she was completely safe, she started to submit one or two a year. she doesn't like to do it often but it does help to sort of "get it out" without actually talking about it.

while helia is notoriously Bad at video games, he does actually like the more "physical reality" ones (think that virtual reality tecmy scene!) mainly because it feels close enough to real life that he doesn't need to rely on just technology to do it. tecna and helia often have very competitive gaming matches but specifically within those kinds of games otherwise, he's really bad at it and she gets annoyed that he can't remember any of the buttons.

speaking of competitions, helia has an inner bet going on of How Much Can I Pretend To Not Know Jackshit About A Specific Technological Topic Before Tecna Notices. what he doesn't know, is that tecna knows he does this and has her own inner bet of How Long Can I Explain This Specific Topic Before Helia Gets Bored And Moves On. so far, the score is mostly even, with helia only winning because timmy isn't aware of this mental battle and will often jump in to explain things too. helia is very smug about this and tecna can't say anything to timmy otherwise she loses the fight that no one actually set firm rules on.

timmy is just really happy that his two best friends are also friends and sometimes he tries to invite helia and flora on their dates. tecna is okay with this only because she thinks it's funny. florelia were also okay with it but started to not be because they realized that their version of a date and tecmy's version of a date was extremely different. they've started to come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses for why they can't go and so far timmy is the only one that hasn't noticed. poor timmy, he genuinely thinks flora's best friend cactus is sick and needs care 😔

when timmy isn't available, helia will call tecna for any technology related issues he's having. on one hand, she likes that he trusts her and can rely on her, on the other hand, she's told him ten separate times not to leave his computer running all the damn time. (tecna: please turn the computer off when you're not using it. this will immensely help solve all of the problems you've been having. helia: okay so i'm gonna leave it on all the time?). he's not trying to be difficult though. he just forgets everything and assumes it should work regardless (he a little stupit).

roxy gets so much gender envy from both of them and it confuses her all the time. they have no idea what a gender envy is though and they're mostly just wondering how they stop giving it to roxy since it seems like it agitates her??? help please???? researching the matter doesn't help and it ends up becoming a meme on winx stan twt because tecna made a very official and serious post asking about the severity of "gender envy" and needing to know how contagious it is. now whenever either of them posts, earth teens just comment gender envy at them. helia still doesn't know what it means.

they don't watch movies/tv together but they will binge-watch the same shows and then talk about them later on. tecna's formatting is still very formal and functional meanwhile helia bounces off multiple points and forgets to make a conclusion. he stresses her out so much.

helia notices when tecna has stayed up too long for too many nights and will occasionally send her a "please sleep" message when he knows timmy is already asleep and can't do it. she doesn't always listen but sometimes she will, but not before sending the same message back because why the fuck is he up at this hour huh dumbass?????

tecna has a pet bird and helia has multiple cats and they absolutely cannot be in the same room together. her bird is constantly trying to fight his cats and while they're usually well behaved, he's genuinely scared they're gonna try to eat it (tecna: stop calling my bird an "it"; helia: stop putting your bird near my cats 😐)

they actually don't like hanging out when one of them is upset. they both have a hard time talking about their emotions (for different reasons obviously) and they always end up feeling like they have to say something when they're together. they just really prefer hanging when they're both in a good mood or at least calm. whenever one of them gets upset, they stop hanging out together until that person feels better.

connected to the last point, you'd think that would mean they don't know a lot about each other, but they surprisingly do! they're both relatively observant people (tecna gets better every year) and they're actually really good at figuring out why the other is upset and what would help. they just don't talk about it.

although, on a similar note, the one time they did have an emotional talk, it was about timmy. tecna was feeling upset again and worrying over whether or not she's "too logical/not emotional enough" and it was the one time where she actually allowed herself to hang out with him while being upset. they had a genuine heart to heart about things and especially about how she's way too hard on herself. they thought it would be awkward since they actively avoided this kind of thing but it wasn't! it went very naturally and helia even teared up a bit. he's very proud of her and the effort she makes every day and since that talk has been much more vocal about it.

when they went to earth in s4, they both spent way too much time learning about Earth Things; tecna about earth media (canon), and helia about animals since that's what flora was talking about. he started calling tecna "chip" after that because chipmunks reminded him of her. she disagrees with this assessment and he refuses to admit he mixed up chipmunks and squirrels. he still calls her chip to this day, and fortunately, it's grown on her. unfortunately, he calls timmy "chip" too, and now it's a hassle to figure out who he's talking to.

helia is surprisingly interested in zenith technology despite not understanding it all! he enjoys walking through the streets of zenith with tecna while she proudly points things out so he can go "ooo aaa" at everything. sometimes she tries to explain how things work and his mind starts playing elevator music automatically. tecna has gotten really good at knowing when helia is just. brain empty no thoughts because she recognizes the Empty look in his eyes. she enjoys catching it live and trying to figure out why he's just. not thinking (usually it's because he either doesn't understand something or got bored) (this happens often when sky starts talking) (sorry sky)

tecna is one of the winx (besides flora of course) that helia trusts the most. not in an emotional or friend way, but in a physical, we're on a mission way. she has good control of her magic and knows how to use it. she's good at thinking of strategies and applying them properly to the situation. and after the omega dimension, he had a newfound respect for her previously unknown to him survival skills. if he were even in severe danger, she would be the first winx he'd call (depending on the situation, she is occasionally ahead of flora).

helia is really bad at sharing details. he tends to go straight to the conclusion but doesn't share how he got there (adhd king 😌) and tecna is the best person to call in when this happens. her logical questioning makes it seem so easy because she has the patience and knowledge to connect the dots and ask the right questions. when anyone else tries its more like (helia: i'm sitting in a pool of blood; person: uhm do you know where it's coming from?; helia: probably the stab wound; someone: did you get stabbed??; helia: oh yeah definitely.)

#lamb.. i love them so much...#the comedy potential with these two are just off the roof #winx club #winx tecna #winx helia #answered #lambofzenith #mine.headcanons #ugh ik i mentioned it on the trivelia post but this made me think of the backstory i made up for helia #because tecna plays a big part in it later on in the story #i have an entire rewrite that i refuse to ever actually write ajhgljadlg #but tecna plays a big part in helia's Main Arc in the story... and its so self indulgent i just really love these two #posting now.. when no one is awake.. ajkdhljaghdlj

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ilguna · 3 years

Text

Anteric - Chapter Six (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing. FIGHTING, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, INJURIES.

wc; 8.6k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Finnick is still picking blue paint out of his hair this morning. Each time he goes to run a hand through it, he’ll get stuck halfway through, due to a clump of knotted blue hair. You try not to laugh, but every now and then a cough will slip out. At some point, he gives up and goes to take a shower in hopes to fix his problem.

Since you woke up fairly early again, you have enough time to get ready at a leisurely pace. Unfortunately, you're sure that the sun has already risen, so there wouldn’t be a point to go up the Pit to see. And you think that’s for the best, because it’s not safe up there anymore. Not now that Finnick knows where you’d go if you need a moment to breathe.

Well, that’s one of the places. Hopefully he won’t figure out the other.

You’ve realized that you probably need to speak to him sometime soon, considering the rift that’s continuing to grow. The only problem is that you’ve already apologized for your sudden distance. He just ignored it.

You think you’ve said this before, but Finnick will get extremely upset to the point where he’ll stop talking. He used to do that all the time to a couple of other people that you knew in Abnegation. You weren’t his only friend, just the best. There’s only been a few times where you’ve been on the receiving end of his cold behavior. And he’s always bounced back from it.

Half of the time it’s because you gave him space to think about what he wanted. He would just wander back on his own, heart in his hands to give to you. In those moments, it was always his fault. Which is why it was so easy for him to come talk to you again.

Other times, you’d persist after Finnick, trying to get him to budge and talk to you again. This is how you found out that it would be harder to talk to you again. Because you were constantly trying to get him to. It just built up annoyance more, and prolonged the silent treatment. This option is always the second choice, a last resort for dire situations.

Which is why you’re so caught right now.

Finnick could really need you to go after him, or he could really need you to stay away. And honestly, you don’t mind either of those plans, except the latter one has a problem hidden within it. Normally when you’d leave Finnick alone, it would be because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

If you go on and move onto Trink circle for the time being while you wait for him to come around, he won’t be alone. He won’t have time to think about why he’s angry by himself. He’ll have someone else to delay that entire process. You know Finnick like the palm of your hand, he can and will put talking to you off for as long as possible.

You thought that Thyme could be a nice addition to yours and Finnick’s friendship, but it seems like she’s going to be making things more complicated. And there’s a hot, sticky feeling in your chest that’s telling you it isn’t a coincidence. From the moment she’s gotten here, she’s been weird.

A hand slaps your foot, making the laces slip from your fingers, your foot falling to the floor. Thyme passes in front of you, and sits down on her bed. It’s only when she starts to lace her first shoe, does she look at you, “Keep your dirty shoes off my bed.”

You stare at her for a moment, and the only thought that comes to your mind is the fact that you’re too tired for her bullshit. You fix your laces before standing up, leaving her alone. You stretch your arms and legs, moving toward the middle of the room. Caspian said that training wouldn’t resume until tomorrow, but that just means you’ll be stuck shooting guns for ten hours.

Finnick comes out of the bathroom, briefly catching your eye. He’s fully dressed, a black towel hangs around the back of his neck to catch the water from his hair. You move out of his way, not thinking too much into the movement. All you know is that you don’t want to be caught in the storm that might be brewing at the moment.

Which ultimately means you just unintentionally made the decision you’ve been worrying over for the past couple of minutes. You guess that your first instinct has never been to pry. And you also guess that this is a result of the Abnegation conditioning. You’re not supposed to ask questions, especially if it might hurt the other person.

But you aren’t in Abnegation anymore, are you?

You spare a glance in Finnick’s direction, wondering if it’s too late to go back and change your mind. His back is already turned toward you, and he’s talking to Thyme. He turns his body slightly, going to sit down on his bed. The smile on his face is almost unforgivable, a light feeling arising in your stomach.

There’s a split second where you recognize that he’s going to look toward you, his head is already turning, his eyes still on Thyme. You think that you’ll be able to muster up enough courage to talk to him. But it all disappears the moment his eyes land on you. And you find yourself turning before you say to.

Trink is stretching her arms above her head, her tank top rides up slightly to reveal her belly. She lets out a slight yawn, and then she pulls her top back down and looks between you, Eytelle and Allio.

“Breakfast?” she proposes.

You wonder how far is too far with Finnick.

“Yeah.” Eytelle agrees, Allio raises to his feet.

Trink’s eyes land on you, waiting to see what you have to say.

You roll your shoulders and give her a bright smile, “Well, obviously.”

Trink leads the way out of the dormitory, with Eytelle and Allio in the middle, and you taking up the back. Up until the door slides shut smoothly behind you, your hands are balled into fists and you can’t relax your shoulders no matter how hard you try. You just feel safer now that you’re out of sight, at least their eyes won’t be on you.

For a while, you focus on Allio and Eytelle’s voice echoing off the walls, as they talk about what they think their rank might be. It’s an easy enough conversation for you to escape to. Since the answer should be pretty difficult to find, because of technicalities and all. But the mystery is solved two minutes later, and the distraction is no longer here.

You’re lucky that the walk to the dining hall is short.

“You two head inside, we’ll follow in a minute.” Trink says, giving them a polite smile.

“Do you want to sit with the Dauntless-borns?” Eytelle is walking backwards.

Trink makes a face like she’s telling them ‘obviously’, but speaks anyway, “Make sure it’s with Lennox.”

Eytelle nods, and the two of them disappear inside. Trink turns to you next, her smile fading from her face, “Why didn’t you say anything to her?”

You press your lips together for a moment, and then you speak, “I know what I’m doing with Finnick.”

“Really?” she rolls her eyes, “Come on, (Y/n).”

“I’ve been dealing with him for my entire life.” you tell her, drifting towards the doorway. You two might be friends now, but you don’t have to reveal all your secrets to her just yet. It’s been less than a day, “Thyme won’t last, trust me.”

She raises her eyebrows, “You should still talk to him.”

“I will.” you say, she’s starting to follow you now, “I’ll do it tomorrow before the final fight.”

Trink shrugs.

The two of you stand together for a while, before she’s the first to spot your group from last night. At the table, she greets Lennox and slides right in next to him. She serves herself a small portion of toast and blueberry pancakes, as always, and starts talking as if they’ve been friends for a long time.

Ameer and Mirza are sitting across from each other, a path is cleared between them to allow the arm wrestling match. It seems like they’re both struggling, since Mirza will stay on top for a while, straining. Then Ameer will get a burst of strength and push his brother’s arm down toward the table. Neither of them have won yet.

Sydney is twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, talking to Nestor and occasionally Ameer. It’s always through gritted teeth and gasps if he does respond. She doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, no one looks bothered over the twins’ shenanigans.

Claris isn’t gathered with you guys, she’s actually sitting on the far end of the table off to the left. Hallie sits beside her, the two of them talk every now and then between long stretches of silence. However, the person that is sitting here with you guys, is Blaire.

He’s got one of his black curls pulled out, talking to Lennox and Trink. When he lets go, the curl bounces back into place as if it wasn’t out in the open just seconds before.

“Four people are going to be cut after this last fight, right?” Trink says, she’s squishing a blueberry between her fork and her plate.

“Yeah,” Lennox says, “The two lowest ranking initiates from both groups.”

Trink hums, “Who’s your two?”

Blaire gives her a look, and then you, “You first.”

“Amos and Ossie.” you say, carving your fingernail into the wooden table, “No question about it.”

Trink’s face twists for a moment, eyebrows raising, and then dropping. Like she’s trying to tell you that it isn’t set in stone. Like she’s trying to tell you that you’ve lost your last two fights, technically Ossie is ranked above you at the moment, and so is Trink.

That won’t last long. You’ll be winning tomorrow’s fight, no matter who it’s against.

“That was easy.” Lennox breathes out a laugh, and then he jabs his thumb to Claris and Hallie, “They’re out. Neither of them have won. They talk shit but the rest of us are taller and stronger than they are.”

Sydney pauses what she’s saying to Nestor to lean in, “The two of them talk like they own the world. Should’ve seen their faces when they got their asses kicked on the first day. Or when they couldn’t even move the punching bag.” Nestor nods in agreement.

“Huh,” you let out.

Blaire shrugs, “Just how it is.”

Trink leans her head against her hand, pushing her plate away now, “How was it working with Finnick and Thyme?”

The question makes Mirza lose at the arm wrestling match. Blaire stares at Trink for a long moment, his eyebrows drawing in, “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I guess I should’ve asked if he mentioned anything about (Y/n). And what exactly did he say?”

You want to stomp on Trink’s foot beneath the table, but she’s not across from you. You wish that she wouldn’t go around asking questions like this. You don’t care what he said about you during the paintball match. In fact, you could guarantee that it’s not anything bad, because Finnick doesn’t bad-mouth until he’s absolutely certain that the other person is his enemy.

You press your lips together and scowl.

“Well,” Blaire looks uncomfortable, as he probably should be, “It’s complicated… I guess.”

“Oh, come on.” Trink waves her hand, “You can’t hurt her feelings, she’s a brick wall.”

You’re suddenly glad that she hasn’t seen you vulnerable just yet. And that you held yourself together after the incident in the Pit, hanging over the river. Otherwise she might be saying something else right now.

Blaire looks to Mirza for reassurance, but the twins are gone. The two of them have vanished without a single word. Blaire sighs, “Finnick said that the two of you had grown up together.” his eyes are on you, “And that you know everything about him, including his weaknesses. He also said that your actions are predictable which is why you aren’t threatening.”

Silence sweeps the table. You let the hotness take over your face first. Anger so rich and raw that you might as well be a reincarnated god. But there’s something bubbling in your chest, light and friendly. The exact opposite of war and bloodshed.

You try to stay straight-faced, but there’s a crack at the corner of your lips. Until you burst, tears forming in your eyes. The laugh is loud, but draws no attention from the other Dauntless around you. With the exception of the group you’re sitting with, of course. You end up covering your mouth, trying to be a bit more modest.

“Not threatening, huh?” You smile, running your finger over the divot you’ve carved into the table. Then, you look up to Blaire, “If I were you, I’d be skeptical.”

Blaire doesn’t respond right away, “What does that mean?”

“Well, for starters.” You place your palms on the table, getting ready to leave, “He doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.”

You stand up from the bench. The clock on the wall says that it’s ten minutes to eight, which means you’ll be arriving in the training room early if you leave now. It’ll give you a moment to think and reassess your next move.

You take a step forward, but then stop, “Finnick isn’t as put-together as he likes to show. It’s all a façade. I’ll be in the training room.”

You take your time leaving the dining hall, not seeing a reason to rush. You have more than enough time to get there, and you need to spend it all.

On the way out, you pass Finnick and Thyme.

You were wrong. You thought that Finnick would keep his opinions of you to himself. The two of you don’t know these people, and they weren’t in your business to begin with. So what is he doing, basically telling people that you’re weak?

A hand hooks around the inside of your elbow, keeping you from talking further.

You yank your arm out, turning to face Finnick, while putting distance between the two of you. The mere look on his face is enough for you to set your jaw, clenching your teeth together. A deer in headlights, a child acting like it doesn’t know what it did wrong, an act.

“Hey,” he says, even his voice is soft, like he’s trying to coax you, “Are you okay?”

Your first instinct is to snap and then run. Leave him blinded and shocked just like you were a couple of moments ago. But the longer you stare at him, the more you begin to realize that he’s not acting. He’s being genuine.

“I’m fine.” you force yourself to calm down, standing up so that you aren’t hunched over, “Thanks for asking, though.”

“Are you sure?” Finnick straightens out too, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You can see Thyme stalking over his shoulder, eyes boring right into yours. Watching, waiting. Probably wanting material to spread around to the others. Look at (Y/n), upset over this and not nearly as scary as she can seem at times. She’s probably the one that managed to convince Finnick that you aren’t threatening.

“Not with her around.” you snarl, looking past him, “You’re a goddamn coward, you know that? And it’s no surprise, you come from Amity.”

She backs up, face twisting when Finnick looks over his shoulder.

“Really?” you ask, moving forward. Finnick presses a hand to your chest, keeping you from going any further. You look at him dead in the eyes, “You’re stopping me? Why? She can take care of herself. If she’s going to cause problems, then she’s going to deal with the consequences.”

“You’re not thinking straight.” Finnick says, not affected by how angry you are.

You slap his hand off and shove him back in one move, “So? Does that scare you, Finnick? What happened to me not being threatening?”

Finnick’s confused for a second, but then his face smoothes over, and he’s shaking his head, “That’s what this is about?”

You grit your teeth, “Yes, Finnick, that’s why I’m upset.”

“You don’t know the context--”

“No!” your voice is loud, “Blaire told me the context. You said I wasn’t threatening because I’m so fucking predictable.” you shove him again, “If I’m so predictable to you, then why do you bother to stick around?”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, there’s an overwhelming silence that sits between you two. Thyme doesn’t even move from where she is, her hand is pressed against the wall as if she’ll fall over. What a drama queen.

It seems like you have attracted attention, though. Out of the corner of your eye, you’re able to see Damon coming your way. Why he’s still inside of the dining room when he eats earlier than everyone else, you don’t know. What you do know is that you’re about to get in trouble.

“Back up.” Damon says, motioning, “Now.”

You do, hands balling into fists. You should’ve hit him when you had the fucking chance to. Or lunged straight towards Thyme, who’s playing up the innocent act again.

“Where are you going?” he looks at you first.

“The training room.”

Then his eyes land on Finnick and Thyme. Finnick’s the one to speak, “For breakfast.”

“Go.” he tells them, not leaving from where he stands. He waits until Finnick and Thyme are clearly inside before turning to you, “I remember being told that Laurel issued a warning about fighting.”

“Yeah, I was there for it,” you say, “But I didn’t hit him, so it doesn’t count.”

“Shoving counts.” Damon says, “Don’t do it again.”

“Sure.” you say, “Sorry.”

You turn and leave before he tries to talk to you anymore. You’re already testing his patience by being short with him. You head straight into the darkness, nails digging into your palms. The walk to the training room isn’t as serene as you originally wanted it to be. With every step you take, you can only find more reason to be angry.

There’s so many things you should’ve said to him.

By the time you get to the actual room, you’re only slightly calmed down. There’s no doubt that you just made things worse between you and Finnick. But to be fair, it’s no thanks to Trink. You don’t know whether or not to be angry at her. If she hadn’t asked the questions in the first place, then you’d still be on the road to recovery with Finnick.

It all conflicts with the fact that you wouldn’t have known what Finnick said if she hadn’t asked. You didn’t know he was talking about you like that. And sometimes it’s good to be underestimated, but here it’s not. It’s the simplest way for you to end up factionless.

Laurel and Caspian are already inside when you get there. They barely look up at first, too focused on what they’re hovering over. Laurel then suddenly raises her head, a murmur sounding from her. Caspian has to turn his body to see.

You give them a gentle wave.

“Don’t touch anything just yet.” he says, motioning you to stand somewhere.

Along the wall of the entrance sits tables with knives on them. All of them black, with identical blades and sizes. On the other side of the room are targets, much like the ones you’ve used to shoot guns. It looks like you get to try your hand at something new today.

It’s hard to be excited when there’s a hateful feeling in your stomach, telling you that Finnick will have no trouble keeping his streak. He’ll nail the middle of the target and then immediately turn to Thyme to gloat. You can’t help but to wonder if he genuinely thinks he’s winning in Dauntless right now, because you wouldn’t think so. Not when your best friend is halfway out of the door.

You pick a spot on the far side, shoving your hands into your pockets while you stare at the wood. If you strain hard enough to hear, you can listen in on what Laurel and Caspian are talking about. And it honestly sounds like they’re discussing the pairs for tomorrow’s fights. You thought they would have worked this all out this morning, but you guess you were wrong.

You have to win, no matter what. Or you will end up in last place. And instead of Ossie being cut, it will be you. You and Amos.

It’s funny, really. For a second, you really thought that you were on top of the world. You didn’t know just how quickly it would all fall back down. How you wouldn’t be able to catch everything--anything. It took a week to break all that you’ve worked towards your entire life.

You still have enough time to turn it around and end up on top. All you have to do is pass this first stage, and then you could blow everyone out of the water. You have the power to. You just have to apply yourself more.

A couple of minutes later, the others begin to arrive in their own groups. The first is Ossie and Amos, the next is your three new friends, and the last is Finnick and Thyme. This time, they’re the ones keeping their distance, placing themselves firmly on the other side of the room.

If Caspian has any questions rising, he doesn’t ask them. You do catch the quick look between you and Finnick, though. As if he’s trying to decipher it for himself. His eyes find yours again, and you give him a gentle head shake, letting him know that things are not what they are anymore. You wish it weren’t this complicated.

“Tomorrow is the final fight, and it will also be the last day of stage one.” Caspian says, he stands near the chalkboard, shouting across the room. His voice carries well, you don’t have to turn your head to hear him better.

“Today, you’ll be learning how to aim.” Laurel continues for him, “Pick up three knives, and pay attention. No one will be excused from tomorrow’s fighting, so try not to hurt yourselves.”

You all begin to wander over to the knives. You pick up the first one in your hands, and you can’t help but to notice just how light it is. It’s not as heavy as the one in your aptitude test, or the one back home in Abnegation. This is as light as a feather, easily movable. It reminds you of the knife you used to cut your hand during the Choosing Ceremony.

You pick up the other two, being careful not to cut your hands.

“I’ll demonstrate, so pay attention!” Laurel shouts.

Once you’re all back in your respective places, all eyes are on her. You have to move around a little to see better, and you can’t help but to curse yourself for choosing this end of the room. But then again, you didn’t want to invade on Caspian and Laurel’s privacy, clearly it was an important conversation.

Laurel is smooth and flawless with her throws. One after the other, each one hits the dead center of the target. Once all three knives are gone, she backs away from the target. You have to move again to see that she’s thrown her knives so that they make a triangle.

“Line up!” she yells, “And get to throwing! Caspian and I will observe.”

You remember the first time you shot the gun they gave you. It’s almost hard to believe that was only five days ago. At the rate things have been moving around you, it almost feels like a year.

Automatically, you find yourself readjusting your stance to mirror what Laurel had looked like. She had her dominant forward just a little more, body turned to the side to allow her dominant arm move free range. You extend and tense your arm a couple of times, getting a feel for the throw.

You have to remember to exhale when you let go.

And make sure not to think too much or you’ll hesitate.

You draw your arm back, knife handle in your hand. Your eyes land on the red circle in the middle of the wood. You hold your breath for a moment, pausing to readjust, and then you throw.

For a second, all you can hear is the sound of knives bouncing off the wall. No one has made it even close to their target. So why are you so sure that you’re going to be different?

Well, because you are.

The knife lodges in the red circle. It’s nowhere near perfect, since it’s off center and barely hanging on. But you are the first.

“Wow!” Trink lets out, “That’s luck!”

You prepare the second knife in your hand, drawing your arm back the same way, correcting for the middle. This time, when the knife hits the wooden board, you are much closer to the center. You’re too eager for the third knife, excitement bubbling up your throat and to your cheeks. An infectious smile fills your face when the third knife is in the center.

A hand slaps on your shoulder, “You’re a natural.” Caspian’s hand slips slightly as he moves around you to take a better look. He lets out a slight whistle.

Eytelle and Allio are nodding along, looking enthusiastic.

You can’t help yourself, though. You thank Caspian, but move to look at Finnick and Thyme, to watch them throw. You catch Finnick’s eyes for a brief second, clearly he was watching you. It’s your turn to take notes now.

You felt this exact same way when you first shot the handgun. To know that you were so close to the center circle, only for Finnick to best you. Finnick moves his hand, showing you that he still has all three knives in his hands. It’s an under-the-table move, not noticeable unless you’re paying close attention. Which means that Thyme completely misses it. The blades glint in the light.

He raises his arm, Thyme pauses what she’s doing to watch him. She’s already missed her first two knives. Finnick takes in a deep breath when he throws, and this is where he goes wrong. You’ll give him credit, because the knife hits the board. But it’s a corner, and clatters to the ground without sticking.

Finnick’s face twists, and when he turns to you--

You’ve already got both hands up, formed in an ‘X’.

Figuring that you’ve reached the point of no return yesterday, you went ahead and switched beds after dinner. Originally, you’d been sleeping over Finnick. Now you’re over Trink, since she’s the one that has an open bunk. You went to bed before you got a chance to see Finnick’s reaction, but you can tell by the way he’s acting this morning, that he’s upset.

He’s normally chatty in the morning, whether it had been with you, or Thyme. But no matter how many times Thyme tries to start a conversation with him, he only lets out one word answers. Which is a telltale sign that Finnick is not as okay as he’s been projecting. Another reason why Thyme doesn’t fit the space, she thinks about herself first and not the people around her.

Abnegation-raised children have been taught to focus on others before them. Like Candor, you begin to be able to pick out the little things from others reactions and body language. You might not be able to ask about it, but you’re supposed to notice it so that it’s easier to avoid the topic.

Thyme knows nothing about this, which means she doesn’t know when to leave things be instead of trying to fill the silence.

There’s a tight feeling of smugness in your chest. Finnick is going to be the one to apologize, not you. Not like you have a reason to, anyway. You already did and he ignored you, as if it hadn’t existed at all. You weren’t bluffing, it was a genuine apology.

You start out of the bathroom, fully dressed, shoes on, minty breath. All you have to do is wait for Trink to get ready, and then the four of you can head to the dining hall so you can watch and wait for them to eat. You already decided that you shouldn’t eat this morning. With the way everyone has been going at your stomach, it’s the only real choice you have. Unless you want to puke all over the floor, of course.

Trink’s in the middle of braiding her hair, talking to Eytelle. Allio is still in the bathroom, you saw him wander into the shower area just before he shut the curtain. He said that it should only take a couple of minutes. So, you suppose that you should correct yourself. You’re waiting on Allio, not Trink.

You start toward the girls, a question to start conversation already appearing on your tongue. But it all dies when someone appears in your path, tall and towering over you, like he always does. You press your lips together and look up at Finnick. And you can’t help but to think that this scene is all too familiar.

But the last time you checked, you moved out of the way.

“We should talk.” Finnick says, his voice is gentle, face smoothed over.

“Yeah?” you ask, eyebrows raising slightly.

You will not be the one apologizing this time.

He takes his time before speaking. Letting out a small breath, sucking in one between his teeth. He does this every single time, you know what to expect. He’ll start his sentence off with the apology, and then what he did wrong.

Finnick takes in a final breath, “I need you to hear me out.”

No.

No, this is wrong.

You stare at him, almost wanting to hold your breath.

This is the second time you’ve been wrong about Finnick would or wouldn’t do.

Finnick takes your silence as a good sign to keep talking, “When I said that to my team, I was still angry at you for blowing me off.”

Now you hold your breath, teeth settling in. He’s wrong, you didn’t blow him off. You apologized, you told him why you’ve been acting this way. It’s the other way around, he’s the one that confronted you and didn’t even listen. As if he didn’t care in the first place, and just wanted to find a way to get at you.

“I should have phrased what I said differently, though.” Finnick pauses for a moment, “Your turn.”

Your turn?

“That was not an apology,” are the first words to leave your mouth, eager, slick and pissed.

Finnick stares at you, like he’s thinking it over. It’s just five words, straight-forward all by itself. But then his lips press together, and his face begins to turn red, eyebrows turning downward. He’s acting like you’re in the wrong here. You’ve apologized, you’ve expressed your dislike for Thyme, so why does he keep on pushing it? What the fuck does he want from you?

“You are brave.” Finnick’s words are low.

He doesn’t scare you.

You know him in and out.

You know his darkest secrets.

How is he going to scare you?

“I’m the brave one?” you ask him slowly, “Last time I checked, I already fucking apologized. You were the one that didn’t listen. You were the one that brushed me off. Don’t come to me acting like the victim.

“Not to mention, Finnick,” you spit his name, “You didn’t even say that you regret what you said to your team. You said that you would rephrase it. It’s a fucking excuse, and I don’t do excuses. You owe me an apology.”

“For what?” he asks.

You explode, voice loud, “What the fuck do you mean ‘for what’?” you’re shaking your head, “I just fucking told you! Do you want another reason, then? You’ve been treating Thyme, over there, like your fucking best friend as if I’m not here. She’s the devil on your shoulder, Finnick. Won’t you open your eyes?”

Finnick shoves you back, you catch your footing in time to make it look natural. You don’t see this as a good sign, though. He’s angry, “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Why not? Don’t like facing the truth--?”

“Because she’s my fucking friend, (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts back, “You called her a bitch and you don’t have a shred of sympathy!”

He gestures over his shoulder, straight at Thyme. She’s sitting on her bed, looking like she’s enjoying herself, watching the two of you go at each other like this. You watch as she fakes a pout, bites her lip, and then turns her head away. Her shoulders shake, pretending to cry. But her giggle is unmistakable.

It takes everything in you not to lunge at her.

The oven controlling your body is only getting hotter. You can feel your fingernails digging into the skin on your palm. Your eyes flash to Finnick, “Why should I? She’s not my fucking friend, she’s yours!”

You move forward, “And I know this might be shocking to you, but I’m your friend. I’ve been your best friend for years! So why are you so hellbent on keeping her, and not me? Aren’t I more valuable than this?”

Finnick stares, no response coming from him.

Your jaw sets, “During the Choosing Ceremony, before I came to Dauntless, I thought it would be an even trade. To take you, and leave my family behind. Clearly, I was fucking wrong.”

The anger washes away from his face, his mouth opening. You can see his hand raising to grab onto you.

You jerk away, “Don’t worry Finnick, this is all fine to me.” you give him a sneer, “Just don’t forget that I know all of your secrets. And there’s nothing stopping me from using them anymore.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, hand frozen out to grab you.

“It’s time to go to the training room.” Trink’s voice cuts the silence that deafens the room.

No one moves from where they are. Not even Ossie and Amos left early to get breakfast. They’re still near the door, hand poised on the handle, like they had been expecting the fight to only last a couple of seconds. Or for the two of you to kiss and make up and let this all be over and in the past.

You’re the first to straighten.

“Okay,” you say, still staring at Finnick, “Let’s go then.”

Ossie and Amos scoot out of the door first. Trink holds it open for you, before letting Allio take it next. She keeps to your side, glancing at your face every now and then like she expects it to change. But there’s an unmistakable anger that’s bubbling in your stomach and popping in your chest. Like lava.

She’s wise enough not to say anything.

You all arrive late to the training room. Caspian has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the door when you walk in. He doesn’t look happy at all, and neither does Laurel. You’re guessing it’s because Mags is standing right there, hands behind her back, assessing each and every one of you as you enter.

“Where’s Finnick and Thyme?” Caspian barks.

“Oh, they’re coming.” you snarl.

Caspian’s eyes linger on you, but you’re more focused on the board behind him. To see who’s fighting who. They’re standing directly in it, purposefully blocking your view. You hope it’s Thyme. You hope it’s Thyme. You hope it’s Thyme.

You hope it’s Thyme.

After a few more beats of silence, the door to the training room opens.

Caspian tilts his head slightly, like he’s unsure what to make of today’s newfound tension.

But then he moves out of the way.

And there’s an explosion of pleasurable bliss that fills your body.

You will not be fighting Thyme.

You will be fighting the man himself.

You grin, head turning to see Finnick’s reaction. He’s stoic, staring ahead at the board, not entertaining you. It’s fine, Finnick. You already know what you need to. You saw him reach out. You saw the look of remorse. Everyone did. There’s no point in being so guarded now.

The chalkboard reads:

You and Finnick.

Trink and Thyme.

Allio and Amos.

Eytelle and Ossie.

“Oh, she’s going to get her ass demolished.” Trink cracks her knuckles.

“(Y/n) and Finnick.” Caspian calls, watching.

“Good luck.” Trink says, Eytelle and Allio echo her.

You resist the urge to skip to the circle.

When you get there, you crack and stretch every place you can think of, letting Finnick take his time. In the meantime, you go over every single detail that you’ve logged over the years and the past couple of days. Finnick has only been hit twice, both in places that are insignificant. You shouldn’t spend your time focusing on them.

You need to watch the way he moves, and predict his hits before he makes them. If you stay ahead of the game, then Finnick will have no opportunity to get at you. And if he does, it’ll be minor chances that won’t have a single affect on you.

You will come out as the winner of this fight.

Even if that means to put the remainder of your friendship on the line.

You roll your ankles in front of you, stretch your shoulders back and forth. You can feel every little ache in your body. Unfortunately, you’re going to be defensive in some areas, even if you don’t want to be. You were smart to give up during Ossie’s fight when you did. Otherwise you’d be hurting so much worse right now.

There’s a few things that Finnick’s going to want out of this fight. The first is a quick and easy win. He wins this, he keeps his perfect streak of no losses and no major injuries. He gets to impress Mags, and the fight won’t be dragged on for longer than a couple of minutes.

So you need to do the exact opposite.

You’re the first to raise your fists, he follows suit. You can’t help but to smile, “What’s the matter, Finnick? You’re looking a little blue.” his face hardens, “Something happen?”

He moves forward, “Shut up.”

You don’t move, standing your ground, “Sounds like you’re a little scared. Am I suddenly threatening to you?”

His arm twitches, you jump back, out of the way completely just to be safe. You’re not sure if he’s going to pull an Allio and swing at you with his non-dominant hand. You’ve already made that mistake, so it won’t be happening again.

“A little unpredictable?”

If Finnick is twitching, you’ve broken the mask. Finnick is supposed to have smooth movements. He’s always had smooth movements.

“Stop fucking with him and fight.” Caspian barks.

You ignore him. You have a plan, and antagonizing Finnick is on the list. You need him to stay angry, so that his actions aren’t hidden. It’s almost like what Ossie did to Allio on the first day, except you’re being verbal. It’s easier to get under Finnick’s skin this way. You need to stay one step ahead of him.

You move toward Finnick now, remembering the way that he had started all three of his fights. You need to find a way to get Finnick down. As long as he’s standing, he has an advantage on you. There’s no way you’re going to get a good hit on his face, he’ll be able to catch your arm before you’re even close.

Maybe if you get his guard down?

You’re prepared for Finnick’s swing, he likes to take the first hit, usually. You manage to lean out of the way before driving your fist into his stomach, backing off immediately after. His face is a shade of red, slightly twisted in pain. Unlike Allio, Finnick doesn’t absorb hits as well. He’s not used to being hit.

Finnick comes closer, crossing the circle straight instead of slowly shuffling to get to you. You don’t move at first, still trying to stay with the ‘keep your ground’ strategy. But the closer he draws, the more you realize that you can’t escape this. You can’t come up with a plan and stall. You need to give Mags something to make you stick out.

You head towards him too. Finnick is not the only initiate in this room who can match energy.

You jerk to the side, watching as Finnick immediately goes to correct his path so that you’re in his line of sight. You wonder if Finnick really has a need to show off and drag this fight out for Mags. He rarely switches up routine, so you’d like to say that he doesn’t. It’s the whole reason why he can be terrifying sometimes.

Everyone knows how he likes his matches by now, which is probably why Finnick has been put to fight first after the first fight. Because his is the quickest and easiest, you know what to expect to happen and how it’ll end. You can see why people would be afraid of him for this reason. If something isn’t broken, why replace it? Finnick has won all his matches in three punches or less, why try to change that?

It’s more impressive to get someone down without severely injuring them anyway, right? It’s like a demonstration of raw power. And with you being on the opposite end of the spectrum… it’s like you always have something to prove.

You can feel your face drop, eyebrows drawing in.

No, everyone in Dauntless has something to prove. If you don’t, then there’s no point in being here. If you’re not proving that you’re strong, or brave, or--for fuck’s sake--threatening, you won’t be considered an equal. And if there’s anything, anyone ever wants, it’s to be an equal or above.

This brings you to another infuriating realization. Finnick does not see you as his equal.

Without a single thought going into the move, your fist flies across Finnick’s cheek. His head turns, eyes widening. You duck, he misses, you’re back on your feet in time to slam your shoe into his ribs. When you move forward again to keep the rhythm, Finnick backs up, eyes darting across your body.

You fix your hands before he decides that’s a good place to target. You need to make sure he stays away from your nose and stomach. Everything else on your body is free reign, you could give less of a shit. But if you break your nose again, you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop the blood flow this time.

Finnick presses his hand to his ribs for a moment, his hand looks shaky. He stops backing up, now that he’s assessed the damage to his ribs and completely ignored his face. It’s a shame too, Finnick’s always been cute.

He moves towards you, you try not to back up too much. You still need a way to get him down without aiming at his face. You got lucky with the face shot, it will not happen again. Like you, Finnick tends to be more careful with spots that were just hit. If you want to try again, you’d have to find another way to wind up to get there.

Then again, you didn’t even think about it. One second you were standing there, and the next your knuckles were throbbing.

You bounce from side to side, watching him. You just barely catch the way he leans forward, throwing all of his weight into his punch. You twist your head to the side, which changes Finnick’s course of punching your nose, to your jaw instead. You recover better this way, ignoring the complaints from the nerves in your teeth.

Without much of a choice, you punch Finnick’s stomach, using the weight idea that he had originally used. The silence in the room is temporarily disturbed when he gasps, trying to suck in air to replace what you’ve stolen. You squeeze your fist tighter, bringing your arm back to do it again.

Finnick’s hand envelopes your fist, catching it before you land the hit. It isn’t until he’s twisting your arm, do you realize what he’s about to do. It’s the exact same thing he did with Eytelle. Trap her, twist her arm, two punches and she was out like a light.

You need out, right now.

You yank, ignoring the pain in your wrist. Finnick’s raising his arm, face stoic and staring into your eyes. You need to break the mask. You saw his face when you told him what happened at the Choosing Ceremony. You need to do something like that again.

You grab his wrist with your other hand, not pulling away as prominently now. You let tears flood your eyes, “Don’t, please.”

At the softness of your voice, Finnick’s arm isn’t as tensed, his face matching the emotion you’re giving him. He still plans on punching you, just not as hard. Which is good enough for you. He’s fallen for it.

Your left hand hits his chest, full-force, dead-on. He loosens his grip, but not enough for you to regain your right hand. You twist your arm until your wrist is grabbing his, before kicking his legs from underneath him.

He pulls you down with him, making you land on top. The two of you scramble to get the upper hand, but it’s easier for you. You place your hips on top of his, struggling to get your wrist free. He’s got a lock of iron, and no matter how much twisting you do, he doesn’t budge.

You lean forward for a moment, slamming your right foot on top of his wrist, keeping it from moving. This means that you have limited mobility, though. And he’s still got full use of his right hand.

Finnick knows this, his arm is already raising. All he has to do is turn his upper body and he’ll be able to hit your face. You could try to catch his wrist, but he’s got enough force to plow through whatever you’ll be able to do.

You still have access to your left foot.

Right as Finnick unwinds, you slam your foot across his jaw. You can hear his teeth snap against each other, head hitting the wooden floor. He finally releases your wrist though, which is enough for you. His hands cup his face, but it won’t last long.

The first punch is to his chest, making his body cave in temporarily. The next is to his nose, blood running down the side of his face and pooling on the floor. You aim for his nose again, and this time you’re filled with a fluttery pleasurable feeling, hearing the snap fill the air.

A pain explodes across your mouth, bringing tears to your eyes. You back off of Finnick for a moment, allowing him to shove you off of his body. You scoot back, not wanting to close your mouth. But you can’t help it anymore, gritting your teeth to combat the pain. You taste metal immediately.

And see red right after.

You lunge for Finnick, who’s trying to get on his feet. He’s moving slower than usual, which is probably because he’s rubbing the blood from his mouth to avoid the problem you’re currently facing. He doesn’t see you coming. Your body collides with his again, fist raised and slamming against his mouth this time.

Let’s see if he likes how it feels.

The two of you end up in the same position as last time, only he’s twisted at an uncomfortable angle, and you’re straddling his hip. You can’t help yourself, aiming for his cheekbone. The more injuries reside on his face, the more proof it is that you beat Finnick. The more the lesson sinks in.

You are just as good as he is. And he was stupid to think otherwise.

This is his punishment.

The tunnel vision begins as soon as you start a pattern. Each time you blink, his face gets worse. First his nose, then his swollen lips, then the red splotches across his cheekbone. Your knuckles catch his jaw, slamming his head into the ground harder. The more you lean forward, the more leverage you begin to have.

And Finnick is pushing, blocking his face while he tries to find an opening. But it’s hard to block his entire face with just a forearm. You should know, because it’s one of the flaws that he couldn’t pick at.

One hit after the other, your hands begin to coat red. Your knuckles begin to ache, arms becoming sore, too much protest because of how much force you’re using. You can’t help it, there’s no other way to keep him down. Any other place, and he would just get up again.

Your hand raises for his eye, and you get halfway through the move before there’s a pair of hands grabbing your arms, yanking you off of Finnick. You struggle for a moment, but the hands are gone as quickly as they came. The person throws you away from your former friend, and moves in.

It’s Laurel, hovering over him like she doesn’t know where to begin.

There’s throbbing in your temples, a headache beginning to form. You wonder why the room is so quiet at first, then you realize that there’s an intense ringing in your ears, taking it’s time to fade out. By the time you regain your hearing, Laurel is saying something about calling the doctor, Cleo, and having her bring an extra pair of hands to wheel Finnick out.

You can feel a dripping sensation beneath your nose. You reach up to touch the area, and come back with red. You don’t remember your nose getting hit, and you can’t tell if this is your blood or Finnick’s.

“Please.” a whisper fills the room.

Your eyes land on Finnick, who’s nothing but a mess of blood and tears. Did he call the end of the fight? You don’t remember hearing that either. In fact, you don’t think you remember anything. Only the feeling of skin-on-skin contact, over and over and over...

Laurel gently tells him that the fight is over, before she looks over her shoulder at you.

You think you can see disappointment. Or maybe it’s anger.

All you know is that you struggle to stand on your own two legs, smearing blood on the floor. You can feel your legs tremble beneath you. Your hands are the same way, not staying in the same place for longer than half a second, coated in red. Your palms, really, are the only safe place that isn’t touched by Finnick’s blood. You can feel droplets running down the back of your arms.

“Holy shit, (Y/n),”

You look over to see Caspian, drained of color. He’s surprised, why? Did he not see the way you fought Allio? Or does that not compare? Mags doesn’t look the same way, she just stares. You don’t know what to say to either of them, so you don’t. You slowly back out of the white circle.

And then the words come to mind, “I couldn’t lose,” it’s quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear, “And he needed to.”

You’re not sure if needed is the word, you guess it doesn't really matter.

You won, Finnick lost.

And neither of you can come back from this.

Not anymore.

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

pin prick and needle sticks.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-:

also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags

When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.

“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.

“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.

“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.

You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.

Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.

He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”

Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”

“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.

“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”

“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”

Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”

“Selfless and maternal.”

Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.

“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.

The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.

Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.

Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.

“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”

“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.

“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”

You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.

You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.

“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”

“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.

“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”

You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.

“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.

“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.

“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.

“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”

You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”

“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.

“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”

You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.

“When could we start?”

Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.

You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.

After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.

After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.

After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.

As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.

When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.

Until he saw you.

“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.

“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.

Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”

You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.

“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.

You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”

You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.

“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.

“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.

After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.

Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.

“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”

“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”

You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”

“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.

“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.

Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.

But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.

As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.

“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.

“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”

Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.

“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”

“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.

Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.

“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.

He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.

“How did you get this?”

“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”

Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.

“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.

Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.

“I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.

“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.

“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.

You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”

“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.

“Ro, it’s not his fault,”

“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.

“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”

“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”

“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.

“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.

“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.

Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.

As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.

“You OK?”

“No.”

Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.

Roman just watched you.

“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”

Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.

“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”

“Scared about what?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.

You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.

“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”

Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.

“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”

You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”

You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.

“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”

Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.

“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.

A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.

“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”

Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.

“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”

Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”

You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”

Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.

“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.

“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”

Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.

“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”

“All better now?”

Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.

“And you’ll drink the blood?”

“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.

You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.

i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:

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numbaoneflaya · 3 years

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You can count on me to pull up with a thousand of questions sbdhdh. A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ; A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ; A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ; A9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏

A3, A22, C5, D3, F3 for Jilly ;

A3.Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it? Do they try to treat it?

Shawty got that stockholm syndrome in a way. She is…. Sometimes aware of it, though she wouldn't call it that any more. Maybe at first in the basement she was more aware, but now that she can come and go she thinks its a thing of the past. tries not to dwell on it. Kind of in a “well its literally not that bad its kind of fun its kind of romantic were just quirky <3” way, will get mad if someone insists she has stockholm or that the relationship is fucked. Will get enraged and upset on Vincent's behalf, probably cry and yell at you.

A22. Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?

I intended her to be fairly average, maybe kind of cute. It's generally the way she dresses/acts in public that draws attention, not her looks. I tend to make most of my ocs on the average scale besides a select few.

C5. Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

Good question…. Jillys morals are pretty simple- always be kind and nice, murder and hurting other people is bad, and you shouldnt lie. She sticks to those pretty strictly herself despite the situations she gets put in, often to her own detriment. But she doesn't always put a stop to those behaviors from the people she surrounds herself with, so she's sort of accomplice to bad acts of violence just by not snitching. So somewhat situational? She tries not to think about it.

D3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Not comfortable! She hadn't seen a lot of it before her early twenties and was always sort of sheltered. dead fish are flushed down the toilet bcs they go to the ocean to live again, right? Thought cows and such all died of old age peacefully before they were made into burgers until she was like… twelve. 💀Won't kill mice and other critters despite her prey drive bcs she would feel too bad. And this is just for animal death, she's much more uncomfortable with human death. Also a thing she tries to ignore.

F3. Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

God no. She hates small spaces unless she's hiding in them and tiny homes have no room for all the shit she stashes! No room for zoomies, or climbing on the furniture, or wrestling around on the floor. It would be filled with junk within a week.

A18, A23, B9, C1, H2 for Nirn ;

A18. Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

He's never had much to be jealous of, as he's never really been over involved in romantic relationships. They were usually mutually beneficial and somewhat clinical in nature. Hes also pretty sure of himself and his value as an asset and lover. If he finds someone who peaks his interest and they become an item though, he might get jealous if he catches them flirting with other people. Hell be peeved at first but know flirtation in business has its value, so to make himself feel better might flirt with someone else while they are nearby. Make a game of it, see who wins.

A23. Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

Appearances are crucial to him and spends a lot of time and money making sure he looks his best. He needs to appear above the rabble and impenetrable, dressing well and having immaculate posture and an air of both grace and otherworldliness.

B9. What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Definitely not one to find fart jokes funny. Very rarely laughs genuinely or full heartedly, he keeps all his expressions of emotion close to his chest. Sharp sardonic wit is appealing to him in the right circumstances, even a jab directed at himself can make him chuckle if it's well formed enough. Irony almost always gets him, even if its dark irony or gallows humor. Bit of a hard nut to crack. Would laugh enough that hed have to cover his mouth with his hand if he were to see Felix fall face first into mud, though. More often than not you can tell he finds something amusing by a gleam in his eyes and a slight squint.

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Well he used to have a real moral code :/. Now I mean…. The ends justify the means. By any means necessary. He considers his family's needs first, then the good of the world, then any individual in the world. Has ordered executions of entire families, had babies stolen and sent away, sent armies to certain death knowing full well they would all die, commanded individuals be tortured for information, sacrificed many in what he considers to be a game of chess where he is the player and others are the pawns. He finds senseless violence and savagery to be unforgivable, but if violence has a sense and purpose to employ it, then he will do so.

H2. Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

Nirn tends to be a very thoughtful and attentive person in general, just for the wrong reasons lmaoooo. But with a lover? He's going to be utilizing that to show them how much he cares and using his powers for good. Mention you like a certain fabric while shopping one time and then complain your favorite tunic has a wine stain in it several months later, he's going to be taking your measurements for a new one in your preferred material without a moment's notice. Very keen on picking up moods, expressions and tone. Also has a very good memory. He doesn't really think about it but gifts are how he shows his love. Also a great attentive listener.

A5,B9, C8, D1, I5, for Thurwen ;

A5. Are they good at handling change in their life?

I would say so, yeah. Shes been used to things constantly changing since she was little and has had little to no control on outside influences. Shes also not one to over think about the past and lament, shes more of a one foot in front of the other, the only time is the present kind of gal. Of course large changes like becoming a warden were a bit more severe, but shes mostly able to think in the present as long as she has immediate problems to deal with.

B9.What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Slapstick is always gonna make her laugh as long as nobody gets seriously hurt, even if its her own ass tripping into a tree. Not a fan of scare pranks, 0/10 recommend trying to scare Thurwen. You will end up with a broken nose at best and an angry elf. Likes puns, but she's the one to groan at them and try and hide the grin spreading across her face. Gallows humor but only if its her in the gallows, otherwise doesn't find it funny at all. If a little kid calls someone a fartcicle she will be tears in the eyes giggling, which is hard when your warden commander and everyone looks toward you to be serious and mature gyshsdhdfsghsd.

C8. Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

She definitely holds herself to moral ideals and is very hard on herself, but has realistic moral expectations for others. She can understand self serving and people only wanting to survive and she will only give people a little bit of shit for it, no one's perfect. But then she expects herself to be perfect and berates herself constantly for not living up to the hero of ferelden warden commander ideals.

D1. How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?

Atheist ever since her mom died when she was a kid, but now Shes in a weird mixed state ever since the urn of sacred ashes where shes like. fuck the maker, but Andraste is cool I guess. So respects/believes in the power of Andraste while thinking the maker is a piece of shit and the chantry sucks ass. Even she doesnt know what she really believes, but she did see the ghosts of Andrastes disciples and Shartan, used her ashes as healing salve, killed an old god, etc. So shes been in a weird place recently, crisis of faith/non faith pretty continual.

I5. Are they a good cook?

I mean…. She can cook basics. Shes been feeding herself and the alienage kids since she was old enough to walk so she knows how to get protein and make things edible. Does it taste good? Probably not. She didnt see her first spice till she was 17 years old, but she can skin a rabbit in seven seconds.

LA9, A13, C1, E8, and G6 for Valkya? 😏

A9. Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

She tries to excuse bad behavior of herself or others a lot, yeah fgdgdsfhdhs. Mostly she doesnt have to make excuses for herself because she can wholeheartedly be like “yeah i fucked up but whatever im sexy and large and awesome and everyone loves me 🙄whatever baby” and when other people fuck up shes pretty sympathetic even though they are not as large nor as sexy. Shes very used to forgiving and excusing herself its totally alien to her when she really fucks up and is suddenly like wait… valkya…. Did bad?? What is this feeling. Shame?? Guilt?? IMPOSSIBLE.

A13. Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

She hates those giant bugs in morrowind and valenwood a whole fucking lot but I wouldnt exactly place it as a phobia. Those huge mosquitoes and haorvers got no respect but she really hates the morrowind bugs ever since they knocked her over and jumped her while she was pants down peeing drunk as hell in the sand :/ never forgave. Never forgot.

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

She was raised in a healthy household that tought the basics, prety much “harming others needlessly, stealing, torture, rape, dessecrating the dead, being selfish and not doing right by others, etc etc all basic bad things” are her morals. Her morality is basically treat others how you want to be treated. And if they treat you badly, then have fun beating the shit out of them to show everyone else not to fuck with you. Its a pretty nordic morality in that way. Her morality is also since she was ‘blessed’ with being so large and strong, that she has to also look out for the little guy who cant protect themselves. So If someone treats them how valkya wouldn't want to be treated, then beat the shit out of the person harming them to show them the little guys got backup. Her parents raised her to be a hero and thats p much how she sees herself, which has its benefits and its fuckin problems.

E8. What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

Fucking up Dem and Dariens relationship for sure dude :/ valkya always gonna be sulking over that one. She doesnt regret becoming a vestige, even though it would have made her so much happier not to be because it ended up saving so many people and the world. She regrets not spending more time with Naryu, regrets always having other life saving business she had to run off to, regrets not cherishing the time they had together. Regrets not telling Lyris how she feels, either. Regrets not being able to save as many people as she should have, regrets she wasnt stronger in coldharbor and didnt break out herself. But she tries not to think about it <3

G6. Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

When she was seven she once spent two months training to hold her breath underwater, because her cousin always held it longer and won the gold bet. She trained for hours almost drowning in the river until she could comfortably hold it for up to three minutes. During the next holiday when they all got together again the competitions were on and they both went under- her cousin won, holding their breath for four more minutes before they decided to come up. This was the first lesson she learned that shocked her world view- you always need to know your opponents capabilities. (after she lost 26 gold in the bets, her mother later had to inform her that her cousin was an argonian.)

#thank u beloved this was good to go thru while in class when i should have been paying attention gfhsdhds #valkya #jilly #nirn #thurwen #the ladies and the gilf #presented without evidence; valkya be stupit kinda :/#HOW DO U DO URS SO FAST... SUPER POWERS

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fireemblems24 · 4 years

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Flame Emperor Reveal Analysis

This game is all over the place with this. This level delivered some of the most intense and emotional moments so far, but doesn’t always capitalize on character development and conflict.

I’m playing all four routes in Fire Emblem Three Houses mostly blind. Below is spoilers for all four routes (which I’m learning the names of now). And for the first it’s actually 4!

Crimson Flower & Silver Snow

I lied. Originally I planned on writing a different analysis for Crimson Flower and Silver Snow, but the build up is the same. Only the fallout is different, and yeah there’s a lot to say about how things played out.

The Black Eagles routes have the biggest advantage for this scene because your main character is the Flame Emperor. It does not hold back. All of your students, sans Edelgard and Hubert, are terrified, confused, and hurt. None of them grasp fully what’s going on when Edelgard takes her mask off and orders her army to kill anyone who stands against her. The voice actors do a fantastic job here: Dorothea, Caspar, Bernadetta, and others sell the mess of emotions the Black Eagles experience, and Edelgard sounds stone-cold and in-command. Her betrayal is the gut-punch it should be.

The level presents a no-win scenario. One of your students is willing to kill you and everyone else you’re supposed to protect, and Rhea is out for blood. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, you lose. It’s a heartbreaking, emotional mess of a situation the writing sets up.

Even prior to all this, the dance between revealing to much or to little about Edelgard’s true intentions is fantastic. Where the Blue Lions basically dumps the answer in your lap and the Golden Deer gives little to no hints at the Flame Emperor’s identity, the Black Eagles is the only route where I do not know if I would’ve guessed correctly or had so few clues that I didn’t bother trying to guess.

Edelgard drops enough hints to guess correctly if you’re looking for them. She always questions Byleth about his thoughts on the Flame Emperor, trying to drive a wedge between the Emperor and the heinous actions the masked knight is involved in. Likewise, Edelgard constantly asks Byleth if he’d pick her over the whole world. She also makes alarming declarations that tow the line between reformer and despot. All of these actions make sense in retrospect - she was fishing to see who would and would not side with her regardless of her actions.

The scene in the Holy Tomb builds up to a crescendo, Edelgard is defeated, and Rhea makes her demand to kill Edelgard. It’s a bit telling Rhea needed to go so extreme in order to make siding with Edelgard believable, but it’s counteracted by the game going as far as making Edelgard an enemy unit who can and will kill her classmates. Both women resort to extremes. Rhea is emotional, hateful, and screaming for blood. Edelgard is cold, calculated, and resorting to using victims of human experimentation to kill her own friends. These are two driven, passionate women exposing their ugliest sides in an emotional scene ripe for fantastic character development and conflict.

And then . . . the wrap-up.

Silver Snow

Should you choose to kill Edelgard, you land in Silver Snow. Rhea’s angry rant against Edelgard is fantastically delivered and makes me anticipate further development from her character. Back in Garreg Mach Monastery, Rhea juxtaposes her earlier scene for a softer one. She implies a willingness to sacrifice her life to protect her home, and asks Byleth to take her role should something happen to her. Rhea’s plan all along was to put Byleth (who is connected to Sothis, who is connected to Rhea, though the details are still unknown to me) in charge. After hearing Rhea call for blood, it’s a sweet scene between Byleth and the archbishop. The problem with it is that every route gets these scenes sans Crimson Flower. It’s two great scenes for Rhea, but not unique to Silver Snow.

And here’s the weird part - there is no unique content for Rhea outside of a few initial lines when choosing to kill Edelgard. Instead, we get the Black Eagles upset and unsure about Edelgard’s actions, a few wondering how much she planned all along and how involved she was in every horrible thing that happened during their school year. It’s necessary, but there’s nothing stand-out in anyone’s dialogue to bring home a real gut-punch.

Seteth gets the best unique content in Silver Snow when he offers the Black Eagles a chance to defect to the Empire should they desire. It’s delivered softly with no threat behind it, showing an earnest desire for the students to feel comfortable even if it means they’re going to turn around and try to slaughter him in thanks. Thankfully, none of the students leave. Cyril and Catherine automatically join your team, and Hilda is now recruitable as well to make up for losing Hubert and Edelgard.

The fall out for choosing to stand against Edelgard is . . . fine. For such a unique event in Fire Emblem (siding against your lord, possibly losing two units you’ve heavily invested in should you not know what’s coming), I expected a bit more drama and flare and a lot more Rhea. However, this is only the start, and it gave what it needed to give.

The stage has been well set. Everyone’s in a no-win situation. Should they lose, they and everyone else in Fodlan will suffer an all-out, dragged-out war. They’ll lose their school and have to fight against their home country (sans Petra) where most of their family and friends live. Killing Edelgard ends the conflict, but she is their former friend, classmate, and rightful leader. She gives them no choice - fight for me or die standing against me. Neither option will leave Byleth and the remaining students wholly satisfied, so I foresee more bittersweet confrontations coming, and I look forward to it.

Crimson Flower

Deciding to protect Edelgard lands you on the Crimson Flower path. I have to say, I’ve read and watched thousands of stories and this one scene stands out among all others.

Never in my life have I ever seen characters react to a situation in a way that makes less sense. Even more baffling is how much potential gets tossed out the window. Stories thrive on conflict and character development and this scene is ripe with potential, but instead of even letting the fruit grow rancid they just . . . act like it never existed.

After Byleth picks to guard Edelgard, Rhea loses it and is ready to tear Byleth to pieces before turning into a dragon. The Black Eagles and Edelgard all run away and, not long after, make it back to Enbarr safely. How they escaped a rampaging dragon or successfully fled Garreg Mach is hand-waved away. This is the kind of hand-waving I can forgive. It’s lazy writing, but it doesn’t really impede the story. What I cannot forgive is the hand-waving that comes next.

Edelgard has a brief scene where she tells her classmates her intentions - she wants to rid Fodlan of the Church of Serios’s control, claims that Rhea and her fellow beasts have secretly ruled humanity and held them back, and is going to declare war. She asks who will join her. Predictably, all of them do - except Flayn. Edelgard mentions that Flayn has opted not to stay with the group.

Hmmm. I wonder why. Could it be Edelgard’s lackey kidnapped and tortured her for a whole month, preparing her for blood experiments at the hands of an evil group of mages who just happen to be Edelgard’s allies? Maybe that had something to do with it. The fact the game presents this is as some magnanimous act is hilarious. I believe Edelgard would let someone like, say Petra, turn away too, but she deserves no “brownie points” for allowing someone who she allowed to get tortured and set-up for a slow death as a human sacrifice to leave and not decide to attack her the home where her father still lives. I think this aspect of Edelgard’s character would’ve hit home significantly harder if someone who wasn’t so throughly victimized by Edelgard’s actions had fled, or you actually saw Flayn leave.

No one asks about the Death Knight. No one asks about Flayn’s kidnapping. No one asks about Kostas attempting to kill students. No one asks about the students kidnapped and experimented on or Remire Village or Jeralt. No one asks where the Crest Beasts Edelgard is using came from. No one asks about the fact she just tried to kill all of them, or what she’s going to do with the Crest Stones. No one even mentions the Flame Emperor. No one questions the history she spilled on them, claiming the church was behind the splitting of Fodlan despite not even having enough knights to guard their own monastery and needed students to help out at events.

I could buy the Black Eagles running away with Edelgard. The scene where Byleth chooses Rhea or Edelgard is highly emotional. Things happen quickly and no one is given much of a chance to process anything. Rhea doesn’t give anyone much of a choice by shifting into a dragon. I wish they didn’t rely so much on “Rhea bad” to make any sense of siding with Edelgard, but it is believable. What I cannot buy is how no one questions anything afterwards.

It’s like the whole cast just forgot the first eleven chapters. No one even mentions the Flame Emperor’s existence. The moment the mask came off, it ceased to exist. Everyone mindlessly believes everything Edelgard says, and no one even asks any questions - not about Rhea, not about the history of Fodlan, not about the Flame Emperor’s actions. Barely anyone bats an eyelash at the idea of attacking their own school and killing former classmates, teachers, and friends. Everyone comes across borderline brainwashed. Did the writers have so little faith in Edelgard’s position they were afraid to even attempt exploring it? Even worse is the strategy meeting is just Edelgard, Hubert, and Byleth - the Black Eagles are no where to be seen. It makes them come across like mindless puppets rather than anyone remotely rational - like pawns arranged on a board required for gameplay reasons than actual characters.

Never in my life have I seen a story throw away so much potential character development and conflict. The situation here is intriguing. Edelgard’s stance is fascinating, but everything falls short when all that’s interesting about it is getting tossed out the window because Rhea is secretly evil and nothing Edelgard did beforehand seems to matter anymore. I am seriously concerned about where this route is heading, because despite the massive potential, it seems like it cares less about that and more about making sure Edelgard looks good rather than complex and interesting, even at the cost of logic, character development, and by turning other interesting characters black so Edelgard has someone she can look better than in comparison rather than standing on her own ideals.

Verdant Wind

Am I correct in assuming the fandom consensus is that Verdant Wind had the least impactful Flame Emperor reveal? Because it did.

Edelgard had little to no presence in Verdant Wind. Outside of pre and post class vs class battle banter, her only scene consisted of interrogating Claude and getting and giving no answers. Claude has no connection to Edelgard and neither does Byleth or any of the Golden Deer. When the mask comes off and it’s her face behind it, there’s no emotional response.

The fallout is equally lackluster. Claude demands answers from Edelgard, which she refuses to answer, and she warps away. Afterwards, things play out the same way they do on every route. And that’s the core issue here. Claude and the Golden Deer bring nothing unique to this scene. Elements of surprise that Edelgard is the Flame Emperor, her willingness to kill all your units to get crest stones, and her declaration of war is there on every route. Claude’s character and goals have had no impact on the plot.

Analyzing this scene has brought to light my main issue with the Verdant Wind route thus far. It’s that Claude and friends have done nothing to move the plot forward. Things just happen; no character is making anything happen. You could argue it’s the same for the Azure Moon route, but Dimitri’s clearly defined goals and emotional connection makes it a streamlined story with a sense of forward progression instead of plot points getting dumped in the player’s lap.

It’s too bad, because Verdant Wind could’ve approached this differently. Instead of Claude getting nothing done and shouting about every relic that showed up, he and Byleth could’ve solved mysteries together a la Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boy. For all of Claude’s questioning everything, very little attention was paid to unmasking the Flame Emperor. Verdant Wind guided its players to look at the wrong mysteries - mysteries that ultimately got no answers while ignoring the one part one was actually about figuring out, and if this was flipped, Verdant Wind would’ve had a much more impactful Flame Emperor reveal.

I will give Verdant Wind major bonus points though. It is nice to see a character question Edelgard about her involvement in things. Dimitri’s too caught up in his Duscur trauma (which I don’t believe Edelgard participated in) and neither Silver Snow and especially Crimson Flower question Edelgard’s actions as the Flame Emperor, but Claude throws at her all the questions I wanted to hear: what about Flayn? What about Jeralt? What about Remire? So congrats Claude, you’re the only character and the only route that’s holding Edelgard actually responsible for her actual actions. If only she was the mystery you were investigating instead of one that went exactly no where for eleven straight chapters.

Azure Moon

What’s interesting here is that the Flame Emperor’s reveal is less about who the mystery person is and more about our protagonist’s, Dimitri’s, reaction to it. And that is core reason behind this scene’s success.

Multiple users on here told me to play chapter eleven of Blue Lions first, and I’m both glad and upset I listened to them. Glad, because they were all right, this route had by far the best Flame Emperor reveal, but sad because it all went downhill from there.

The Crimson Flower/Silver Snow routes should’ve had the best Flame Emperor reveal. After all, those are the routes where Edelgard plays the biggest role, but the follow up to the scene is fairly lackluster, especially in Crimson Flower. Azure Moon, on the other hand, did everything Crimson Flower was afraid to - address the elephant in the room.

Characters in Crimson Flower respond to the situation as if Edelgard didn’t just try to kill all of them, nor do they ask any questions about her actions as the Flame Emperor. Everyone acts as if none of that ever happened, and by not bothering to even mention it, those actions stick out even worse than they would’ve otherwise.

The opposite is true in Azure Moon. Everyone is unnerved by Dimitri’s violent outburst. Felix jumps at the chance to tell everyone, “I told you so.” No one knows what to do about Dimitri, nor do they really have time to process anything with Edelgard’s war machine knocking on their front door. However, this is the base expectation of a story - that characters respond realistically to what happened prior instead of teleporting to some surreal dimension where Edelgard isn’t working with people who perform human experimentation.

So what exactly did Azure Moon do to make this reveal so successful? It utilized the route’s unique aspects: Dimitri’s mental instability and desire for revenge, terrible family history, and emotional connection to Edelgard.

Unlike Verdant Wind, Edelgard has an actual presence and relevance in Azure Moon thanks to her connection to Dimitri. He cares about her like family, which makes her betrayal more personal and automatically more impactful than in Verdant Wind. Even more brilliant here is milking the emotional aspect of what happened. Instead of focusing on “shocking” the reader with Edelgard’s betrayal, it drops hints about her secret identity with all the subtly of a lead brick.

You know what inevitable, dramatic, and tragic outcome is coming. Edelgard, Dimitri’s only remaining family (outside of an uncle he’s on bad terms with), is working hand-in-hand with the people who caused the deaths of his family which led to the genocide of a race of people and the source all of his trauma. Dimitri makes it quite clear he’s out for revenge, and that anything related to Duscur triggers his PTSD so bad it seems like a dissociative or psychotic episode. Azure Moon does not build up a mystery, it builds up an emotional conflict - like watching a train wreck that you know is coming and can’t stop.

And that’s the brilliance of it - this scene isn’t about Edelgard being the Flame Emperor, we already know that, it’s about Dimitri, who this route is about and who the player is emotionally invested in during this version of the story.

Nor does this game disappoint here. There’s no softening anything to try and make Dimitri look “better.” He has a full-on violent breakdown. It’s devastating. He is succumbing fully to his demons after fighting against it over and over while getting tossed into triggering situations ad nauseam and getting no help in return (after all, therapy, medication, hell even the concept of mental illness simply doesn’t exist). All the signs that the route has built up explode in an emotional scene, and probably thee best cut scene so far with some of the best voice acting in Fire Emblem to carry it out. Every plot thread comes to a head: Dimitri’s lust for revenge, his unstable mental health, the mystery of the Flame Emperor’s identity, etc . . .

The upcoming battle has more meaning now. It has what is at steak in the other routes - win or lose and the fear of having to kill former classmates - and more. Because it isn’t just about the battle of Edelgard vs the world, but also the battle for Dimitri’s mental health and for his soul. There’s a bit of a catch-22 here, is Edelgard dying really the best ending? Killing her saves many lives, but at the cost of Dimitri’s mental health? What if she dies and he doesn’t kill her, but what if he does? Would he kill himself now that the dead are avenged? Or what if she lives and this drags on longer? No option is good. There isn’t an easy win button by offing Edelgard or taking over the school. Every possible ending is a bad ending. Your lead character is in the middle of a mental breakdown, and giving into his demons and lust for revenge (which is a separate issue exasperated by ill mental health) and the situation only makes it worse and is to dire to properly let anyone deal with said breakdown. The tension, the drama, the sense of foreboding dread, is all so much more here than in all the other routes.

What makes Azure Moon’s handling of the Flame Emperor so good is that it widely succeeded where the other two routes failed. Verdant Wind didn’t make the reveal relevant to anything Claude was interested in or working towards. Crimson Flower completely and utterly failed to address Edelgard’s actions let alone use that to create compelling tension. Azure Moon did both. It made the Flame Emperor reveal relevant to the route, even made it actually about the main character of the route. Nor is it shying away from conflict and tension, even if it means letting it’s main character fall out of grace and risking the player’s infatuation/admiration/whatever with/of Dimitri by having him succumb to his dark side. Because it’s not protecting him, he’s going to turn out a way better character for it.

I will admit though, that I think playing all four routes impacted this a bit. It didn’t benefit Azure Moon, but I think this route spoiling who the Flame Emperor is hurt the other routes. Verdant Wind might’ve had at least some tiny smudge of an impact because it’s the only route where there’s very little way to correctly guess who the Flame Emperor is - the only one where it may be truly a surprise. Crimson Flower/Silver Snow does make it a bit more obvious, but doesn’t quite spell it out for you the way Azure Moon does. Here, the player kind of has to be looking for it. Obviously though, you can only learn this once, and good writing could’ve made all the routes impactful with very small tweaks - have Verdant Wind actually focus on the mystery that’s solved at the end of Part 1 (who is the Flame Emperor) and actually have characters react to and get answers about Edelgard’s actions. I also think the choice between Silver Snow and Crimson Flower looses its tension when you go into it knowing you’ll pick both. Azure Moon easily had the best reveal, so I want to ultimately thank everyone who told me to do this one first - you were all very, very right.

#fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem 3 houses #fe16 #fe3h #am #cf #ss #vw

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the-weeping-author · 4 years

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Insecurities

A/N: this was request by @phoebethepheebs I was so happy to write it I’m sorry it took so long to come out, but here it is finally lol mores coming it’s my longest fic so far.

warnings: smut, cussing, oral, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, some angst.

Parrings: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 3,749

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @bvrningdesires @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @harrington-ofhawkins @thenameishayley248 @ghostineleven @pappydappy

Please enjoy 😊

When the kids found out Steve and I were dating they were ecstatic, at first the kids didn’t warm up to me. They always gave me the cold shoulder or glares.

It got to the point I didn’t want to be around the kids like at all, I avoided them. The only one who seemed to warm up to me was Will.

The rest wouldn’t budge at all so I just gave up. It was a typical Tuesday. I was cleaning around my house so when my parents came back to town they didn’t have too.

I was doing dishes when the phone rang, I sighed putting down the plate I was washing, walked over to the phone picking it up after the second ring.

“Y/L/N residents.”

I heard Steve speak over the phone tension in his voice.

“Oh hey Mrs.Y/L/N is Y/N home?”

I smiled to myself at Steve, I knew he constantly said I sounded like my mom but I didn’t think he meant it.

“Steve it’s Y/N, my mom isn’t coming home until Friday.”

“Oh well what are you doing?”

I looked at my pink nails while I thought about the rest of my day.

“Hmm nothing much why whats up?”

I heard his demeanor change on the other side of the phone.

“Oh well the kids wanted to go to benny’s in about 30 minutes and I wanted to know if you’d like to come?”

I felt my stomach begin to knot up.

“Uhh Steve actually I’m pretty busy today, I don’t think I could possibly leave my house is a mess.”

He sounded unsure of my excuse, but he let it go.

“O-oh okay Y/N I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Alright Steve I’ll see you.”

As soon as those words left my mouth I hung up, I walked back to the sink and continued to wash dishes.

*steve's pov*

After I hung up with Y/N I felt weird about it, she’s never stood me up, I wonder what’s up with her.

I just shrugged it off, spraying my hair with hairspray then grabbing my car keys, headed out the door to my car.

When I arrived at Benny's I saw the kids bikes, I smiled at the thought of being with my closest friends even if they were kids.

The only thing that would make this perfect was if Y/N was here. I got out of the car I probably should have checked on her, but I knew she didn’t like to feel smothered.

When I walked into Benny’s I saw the kids in a booth near the jukebox, I smiled pushing the thoughts of Y/N out of my head, I walked up to the kids.

“Hey guys.”

Their head snapped towards me all they smiled at me, but my eyes scanned over their faces, my smiles slightly dropped when I saw Wills face.

He was smiling but it didn’t meet his eyes like it usually did. I sat down beside Dustin, before anyone could say anything Will spoke up.

“Where’s Y/N?”

The kids all stopped, looked at Will like they wanted him to shut up. I looked at him smiling softly.

“Oh sorry dude I asked if she wanted to join us today but she had stuff to do.”

I heard Dustin mumble a thank god, I turned to look at him.

“Well when you talk to her can you tell her I missed her today?”

My attention came back to Will, I nodded smiling at him.

“Yeah buddy no problem.”

Lunch had gone okay, I couldn’t keep focus on any of the conversations going on because all my mind kept going back to was Y/N.

El was the first to notice I wasn’t talking as much as I usually do so she asked.

“Steve are you okay?”

I looked up from my food as the kids eyes fell on me.

“Uh yeah I’m just thinking about Y/N, ya know I wanted her to be here but she didn’t want to come.”

Mike looked around the table at everyone then he looked at me.

“Uh Steve about Y/N.. we haven’t really made her feel welcomed.”

I looked at them individually, they wouldn’t look back at me except for Will.

“Hey mike speak for yourselves.”

I looked at Will, smiled at him.

“I’m glad you at least made her feel welcomed, but as the rest of you I’m disappointed. You all should know how it feels not to be accepted somewhere.”

They all nodded at me, everything made sense now, why Y/N would blow me off all the time when I mentioned the kids.

After we got done eating I paid, walked with the kids to their bikes when Dustin stopped to look at me.

“Hey Steve, we really are sorry for not letting your girl feel welcomed. We just wanted to scope her out to make sure she had good intentions.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Well thank you but I have a good feeling about her, so I’m going to go see her right now.”

I got in my car, before I started my car I watched them ride off. When they got out of eye sight I started my car and headed to Y/N’s house.

*Y/N pov*

I was sitting on my couch watching some cheesy romance movie, ever since Steve had called I felt bad so what better way to wallow in my own self pity than love movies.

I’m not about to lie, I was WASTED. Like if wasted was a person it would be me. What led me to drink was I was thinking of Steve, how Him and I were never going to be together. It wasn’t his choice, it was mine.

mainly because the kids didn’t like me. Those kids were Steve's world, I wasn’t going to get in the way of them. It wasn’t right for me to so I was removing myself from the situation.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I paused the movie, stood up walking over to the front door.

“Who is it?”

I asked through the door because I’ve seen a lot of horror movies when the girl at home alone opens the door boom she’s dead.

“Y/N open up its Steve.”

My drunken mind wanted to believe him but a part of me was still unsure so I wasn’t going to budge.

“Prove it, what’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

I heard him sigh but he quickly responded.

“Cake batter.”

I smiled as I reached for the doorknob twisting it, pulling it open. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him standing there with a huge smile on his face.

“I’m sorry you know I get paranoid when I drink.”

He chuckled, nodding his head at me.

Yeah I do that’s why I tell you not to watch those movies.”

I shook my head pouting.

“I love them too much to give up on them,”

When my eyes met his there was something there, it was like how he looked when he got his first bike.

“Uh mind if I come in?”

I bit my lip nodding my head stepping aside while he walked into my house. The scent of his aftershave filled my nose making me feel even more intoxicated.

I shut the door, turned towards him. The more I looked at him the harder it was for me to tell him I couldn’t hang out with him.

“So Y/N I came by to talk to you about the kids.”

For some reason my stomach dropped, I immediately felt nauseous.

“Steve I actually wanted to talk to you about that, but I guess I’ll talk now.”

I took a moment to breathe when I was ready to talk. I looked at him.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t pretend that everything’s okay, the kids mean a lot to you and they just don’t like me. I’ve come to grips that the only person in the party who does is Will.”

Steve looked like he just got punched in the stomach, fear filled his features, he let me go on with my thoughts.

“Steve I like you, I really do, as selfish as it sounds I can’t be around people who don’t like me. I just can’t Steve, I know you probably don’t feel the same but I just wanted to let you know why after this conversation we are done.”

When I finally shut up Steve just started at me, he nodded at me understanding where I was coming from. When he looked up at me there was something there, if I wasn’t mistaking it looked like rage.

“No Y/N you can’t do that to me. You can’t do that to us okay, for the first time since Nancy I finally feel right, I feel like nothing can or will make me as happy as you do.”

I looked at him, my mouth opening some to say something but he cut me off.

“No Y/N let me finish you’re the most amazing girl ever, I’d be stupid to let you just slip out of my grasp, the kids just wanted to feel you out t-to see what you intentions were, they just didn’t want to see me hurt again, but I’ve talked to them and stored it out please give me a chance.”

I looked at him speechless, the alcohol was buzzing through my veins at full speed. My mind was spiraling, Steve had feelings for me?

My heart and mind were at war, my heart was winning. I stepped closer to Steve, he took a step towards me. He reached out to me, pulled me into his grasp.

His callused index finger ran across the bottom of my lip, His other hand ghosting over the side of my cheek. I nuzzled into his palm biting my lip.

“Maybe you should let me bite that lip for you.”

I looked up at him, lust filling his eyes, his hand stayed on my cheek, he pulled me closer to him, I leaned into him taking his delicious aftershave and cologne filled my nose.

His lips ghosted over mine, after a minute of him ghosting over my lips I opened my eyes meeting his blown wide pupils.

“Just kiss me already harrington.”

It was like that’s what he was waiting for because after I gave him the go he smashed out lips together. It was euphoric, he tasted like chocolate and spearmint.

At first the kiss was soft, needy but soon it turned into something more, our kiss that once was sweet turned into a heated kiss, our lips parted even further and out tongues slipped into each other's mouth, our teeth occasionally bumped into each other’s.

When we parted we were both gasping for breath.

“Wow.”

I smiled at him hearing his reaction to the kiss, I put my forehead on his.

“Yeah wow.”

He put his hand on the side of my cheek. Honestly, I loved the fact he could be passionate one minute, then be sweet and soft the next.

I bit my lip looking up at him, he looked like he wanted to continue so I pulled him back to me.

“Wanna continue this upstairs?”

Steve nodded his head, grabbing my hand pulling me upstairs, I giggled while we walked upstairs. We kissed the whole way up them, that wasn’t exactly as easy as it sounded.

When we got to the beginning of the hallway Steve pulled away looking at me.

“Jump.”

I nodded and jumped up, arms wrapping around my thighs holding me against him. He turned us to walk to my room, I smashed my lips to his.

I grinded my hips down into him causing him to let out a groan into my mouth. It made my insides melt to hear him groan.

He opened my room door and walked in, kicked the door shut. After he did so he walked to my bed plopping me down causing me to let out a giggle.

Steve took his shirt off, I admired every part of his chest. carving it into my mind, got above me and smashed out lips together.

This kiss was more wanting, so while we kissed I started to take my shirt off, I threw it across the room. He looked down at my almost naked chest, then back up to me.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I blushed looking back at him.

“So are you.”

He blushed at my comment and kissed my lips and made his way down my abdomen. I threw my head back as he got lower, when he reached under my belly button I let out a gasp*

“Do you want me to stop?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, propping myself up with my elbows, Steve’s Callused hands ran up my thighs, under my skirt.

My breath hitched as his fingers went into my underwear, his hand getting closer and closer to my vagina.

I let out a gasp when he finally ran his fingers over it. He looked up at me and smirked.

“Let’s get a better look shall we?”

I bit my lip nodding at him while he slid off my panties, when he got them off he threw them behind him making me laugh. Him trying to be smooth was honestly hilarious.

He put both of his hands on my soft thighs and pushed them open, some of his hair disappeared under my skirt, I let out a gasp when I felt his breath on my wet vagina.

I bite my lip letting my head fall against the mattress, one of my hands gripped the sheets while the other found its way into his hair.

It was sad how he really hadn't done much, for me so worked up. His lips ghosted over my vagina which made me groan in frustration.

“Patients is a virtue.”

I looked down at him under my skirt and growled at him.

His head popped up from my skirt a stern look on his face.

“Did you just growl at me?”

I nodded my head, yes rolling my eyes.

“You think after keeping me waiting so long you would faster.”

He raised another brow at me, popped my inner thigh.

“Are you sassing me?”

I looked down at him shaking my head back and forth.

“Stand up.”

I nodded my head, did what he told me. Next thing I knew I was being bent over Steve’s leg, he pulled my skirt up kissing each cheek. He rubbed one side softly turning his head at me.

“This is what happens when you sass me understand?”

I smirked.

“What’s gonna happen if I do it again?”

He looked at me then pulled his arm back smacking my ass.

“That.”

I gasped then giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

I took in a breath looking back at him.

“Oh nothing just wondering if a mosquito bit me.”

He let out a sigh.

“Now Y/N I didn’t want to have to spank you but I guess now I have to.”

I bit my lip trying not to show him that I was liking it.

“That’s too bad, but I have been a bad girl and they deserved to be punished.”

He slapped my ass once and looked at me.

“Count with me okay baby.”

I nodded, his slap kinda stung my ass, I was regretting what I said.

“Two.”

I bit my lip feeling his hard hand coming down on my ass causing me to let out a gasp.

“Three.”

He brought his hand down again, it caused me to let out a small moan.

“You’re doing good baby girl just two more okay.”

I nodded my head biting my lip, my arousal going onto his leg.

“Four.”

His hit was a little bit harder making me let out a sharp gasp gripping onto the floor.

He rubbed my ass cheek a little bit to help take the sting away.

“Five.”

We both counted together, but when we reached five it barely left my lips, I braced myself. I knew this hit was going to be the hardest of them all.

He swung his hand all the way back and slammed it down on my ass causing me to let out a yelp, I guess he knew he hit my ass a little too hard because he was rubbing it.

“I’m so sorry baby I didn’t mean to get into it, it’s just the way you were whimpering and gasping just drove me wild.”

I got up looking at him smiling, I walked over to him laying in back on my bed.

“It’s okay I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me intentionally.”

My hands found the button to his pants , I unzipped his zipper and palmed his hard dick making him throw his head back letting out a soft groan.

“Let me show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done so far.”

He lifted his hips while I pulled his pants down letting his hard dick spring free. I looked up at him and smirked.

“Who got you this worked up?”

He bit his lip, looked down at me.

“You did.”

I tsk him and look up at him.

“Who am I?”

He looked down at me, his member throbbed pre-cum leaking out, and I licked it teasingly.

“Y-you did princess.”

I smiled at his sudden switch In roles, I quickly took him in my mouth and he hissed. I slowly sank my mouth down on his dick as far as I could go, his hand found its way into my hair.

He thrusted into my mouth making me gag around him, he set the pace with his hand. He pushed my head up and down around his dick moans escaping his lips.

When he pulled me up I was saddened, I loved pleasing Steve. I stood making him look up at me a red tint painting his cheeks.

“S-sorry I didn’t wanna finish in your mouth I wanted to finish in you.”

I nodded understanding, I walked over to my drawe and I pulled out a condom showing it to him.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

He smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend Y/N?”

I looked at him and walked over tearing the condom on letting him put it on, I took my skirt off kicking it behind me, I straddled his waist kissing his lips l.

He instantly kissed back, my hand found its way through his hair while he slipped the condom on, when we pulled away he looked at me lightly rubbing his thumb over my lips.

“Of course I will be your girlfriend Steve harrington.”

He smiled leaning in to kiss me.

“By the way we taste great together.”

I laughed kissing his chin then down his neck, my hands played with his chest hair. When he slipped his dick into me I threw my head back arching into him.

“F-fuck Steve you’re s-so big.”

He thrusted upward into me, groaned.

“Damn it Y/N you’re so tight.”

He slowly moved me up and down on his hard dick making me let out gasp while I felt his dick sliding in and out of me.

I grabbed his shoulders while he gripped my hips hard enough I knew there were going to be bruises in the morning, I moaned as his set started bouncing me faster.

“Shit S-Steve you feel so right in me.”

His breath started to pick up so he flipped us around him on top of me, me on the bottom. He slowly pulled out, he started rubbing my clit.

“Baby you’re so wet.”

Steve and I have never done it, we were closer to our orgasm’s than we’d like to admit. Steve and I have had years of sexual tension, we just needed to realize how we felt.

Now that we did there was no going back now. Steve thrusted in, out of me at an excellent speed. My nails drug down his back making him shudder. I grabbed him back by the back of his neck connecting our lips together while he fucked me.

I felt his thumb rubbing circles around my clit, I arched my back into him. His body heat made it comfortable for me, beads of sweat formed on the top of my head.

I pulled away from Steve looking young at him while his thumb circled around my clit faster, his dick fucking me into oblivion.

“A-ahh s-shit Steve I-I’m close.”

He groaned against my skin making goosebumps dance across my skin while he kissed and sucked at my neck.

“F-fuck me too baby, but don’t cum until I say so.”

I nodded my head biting my lip trying to suppress my orgasm while he continued fucking me. I felt his thrust speed up making my boobs bounce, grabbed his hair pulling him down to me.

His thrust grew sloppy, I was so close I couldn’t hold it anymore. Luckily Steve knew I was about to burst, I could feel my face heating up trying to hold it in, Steve looked at me taking my bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled my lip, when he let go my lip made a quote noise compared to us.

“Cum for me baby.”

I closed my eyes focusing on the pleasure and I came on the spot my orgasm causing stars to blur my vision, I felt light headed as I came, Steve guided me through my orgasm while he emptied himself into the condom.

After he came down he laid beside me both of us trying to catch our breaths, while doing so he peppered kisses onto my forehead.

“I’m so happy you said yes.”

I looked at him smiling.

“Me too.”

He bit his lip nuzzling into my neck.

“Can we have round two in the shower?”

I giggled at him pecking his lips softly.

“We can do whatever you want Steve let me just calm down first.”

He stood up, walked into the bathroom starting the Shower. I smiled to myself shaking my head at him.

“How are the kids going to be able to be around us?”

I smiled to myself getting of my bed, walked into the bathroom let’s just say neither one of us got much rest that night.

A/N: thank you guys so much for reading, I hope y’all liked this, sorry it was so long I kinda got carried away lol but more coming just keep a look out if you’d like to request please do, also if you wanna be added to my tag list let me know.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #steve harrington #stranger things x reader

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crowleyellestair · 4 years

Text

Geralt’s Problem - Pt.2

Summary: This is a part 2 to the request : Geralt X Healer! Reader where she is tagging along with the boys. Over the time she has spent tending to his wounds, and on occasion, savign him, Geralt begins to develop feelings for her but he doesn’t understand them, so he pushes them aside. One bad part of thier trek, she falls through ice, and almost dies. Geralt needs to come to terms w/ some feelings

@boiblunder, Thanks for wanting to be tagged!

AN/// So many of you guys wanted a part two, so here it is!!!!!

Masterlist

“Just admit it- I’m the best.” Y/n’s confidence rounded her melodic voice. The sentence was full of humor and joy that hung in the air, traveling throughout the fortress. Eskel threw his remaining cards down, huffing. His hand reached up to rub the scar that ornamented his features out of frustration and bewilderment.

“I don’t know about that, Lady Y/n, but you are good.” His statement finalizing that he was conceding. The woman rolled her eyes, picking up his deck, and rifling through the cards. He watched as she threw them into piles, one bigger than the other.

“It’s because you didn’t take my recommendation to heart. You need to spread out your strength. I knew you had a siege-based deck, therefore I added that rain card. I analyzed your fighting style, and adjusted to beat you- you should be able to do that better than most.” Her last sentence came out playful, and he blushed. Y/n had come to learn that he was too bashful for his own good, the only emotion ever to cross his face was embarrassment. Sadly, for the Witcher, he was embarrassed quite often. She let out a playful laugh and pushed both piles to him. “Keep the larger one, and add disbursed power from other cards you have. Maybe tomorrow lady luck will smile at you.” She swung a leg over the bench, going to get up, but stops before completely leaving. “But I doubt it.” She smiled and left the table, going to find Geralt.

The thing Y/n loved most about Gwent was that it was a great way to think. Sure, the game was based on focus and strategy, but she had been playing her whole life. She was just as skilled in the game as she was a healer, so she could get lost completely in the thought of something other than the game, and still win. She felt bad for the brunette, feeling as though she cheated him somehow. She respected all the men of Kaer Morhen, and she had guilt eating at her. Rather than being a good opponent, she was completely focused on something else, using his love of the game to get herself in a good headspace to think about her problem.

That problem was Geralt.

But despite the weird air around her and her problem, she should have given her all into those games. She saw Eskel as a friend, and he deserved her full attention. Tomorrow, she swore she would pour everything she had into it, especially since she knew he’d be bringing his A-game. He had yet to beat her, so tomorrow should prove eventful. Though, that night could prove eventful too, if she ever found her favorite Witcher.

She had first swung by the library, but her go to source of knowledge was asleep. Vesemir was a treasure trove of info that she had found useful. The last few weeks had been spent learning under him and everything he was willing to share about the world.

The courtyard had an area clear for training, which was her next stop. Lambert and Coën were occupying it, but it seemed they were on a small break. With a smile, she approached the two.

“Good afternoon, you two! Slacking off as usual, I see.” Coën spared a smile, but Lambert bristled. Due to the nudge given by his fellow Witcher, Lambert calmed, but still kept a defensive manner. Y/n threw her hands up in mock submission while continuing her way to them. “I just came to see if you knew were Geralt was.”

“You would like to know, wouldn’t you?” Coën clicked his tongue to his friend’s response, but Lambert didn’t care. Her smile dropped, looking blankly at him. She couldn’t find it in herself to truly be offended. She knew that they were wise beyond their years, which were plentiful.

“Again, I’m sorry for intruding your season. I know winter is your guys’ time.” Lambert rolled his eyes, but he loosened a little. On her first night, she wouldn’t stop apologizing for being there, no matter how much reassurance she received from them. Lambert was more annoyed at the affect she had on their friend Geralt. Lambert couldn’t bring himself to trust her completely, despite what Geralt has let on so far, because she was just as good as the average Witcher at keeping her feelings a secret.

It didn’t help his suspicions when he noticed how odd Geralt had been acting.

He was aware of Yennifer and her affects, and he didn’t need to see his brother go through that again.

That night, when he was pulled out of his meditation by the main subject of his thoughts, he simply didn’t know how to respond. Sure, maybe glaring at her wasn’t the best option, but he wasn’t used to responding accordingly in these types of situation. Geralt had emotions, there was no doubt about it. The Trial of Grasses couldn’t erase them like it had others, but that had made life more difficult. He was used to bottling them up and acting like they didn’t exist. Witchers were supposed to be passive in situations, as they were too powerful to take sides. He had meant to go for a smile, but the realization was too shocking to let it out right.

Her reaction hurt him the most. She had asked him what was wrong before going back to the bed, grabbing a blanket, and covering herself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel like he disapproved of the way she looked. He had tried to confess right then, in a raw emotional moment as he was vulnerable from meditation. Instead, he awkwardly complimented her, then dismissed himself.

It took him a stroll to the stables to realize he had left her in an unknown place without pants, and he had marched back in, acting passive- as if he didn’t feel guilty and embarrassed. She had felt the same way, insisting on giving him his room back, and sleeping in the tower. He accepted her wishes, silently scolding himself for pushing her away, though he was grateful to know that he had the option to go over things alone in his head.

And it wasn’t that he wanted to purposely avoid her, he just needed space to think.

Geralt often thought he wasn’t good enough to be friends or lovers with people because of what he was, even if he was constantly reassured- even if he craved their affection. It was just his nature, and he didn’t think he would ever change. Even now, he thinks that Jaskier might still want to leave forever, even after traveling together for all those years. And Geralt wouldn’t blame him, nor would he follow after.

So, Geralt wanted to decide if he would condemn her to him. Would his confession just put her in danger constantly? Would she be content with life knowing a killer would come back to her bed every night? Geralt hadn’t wanted to admit that she did, in fact, love him back. It was only speculation, even if all the signs pointed to her affection.

Roach had been getting extra care over the past few nights as he would go there to ask her all of the pressing questions on his mind. He was grateful that Y/n had been so interested and open minded about him and his brethren, and frequently asked them to talk of tales. With her distracted, he wouldn’t have to face her. Maybe that was the wrong wording, because Geralt wasn’t a coward. He just couldn’t accurately predict how things would play out. He hadn’t wanted to make a scene, as they still had the rest of Winter to sit through. It had seemed to him that she had unknowingly charmed most of the others, and if things did go south, he didn’t know how it would affect the rest of them. He certainly didn’t want his love life to be discussed among his friends.

“Would you mind if I borrowed some cards from your deck?” Again, Geralt had found himself scolding as he was too lost in thought to process her approach. He patted Roach before looking to her. When his eyes met hers, all he could do was nod.

The world fell away. The chill that hung on the air stopped nipping at him as warmth radiated from her. Though it was growing darker outside, her eyes were like the sun, lighting his heart and mind. She had a reserved, unsure smile plastered on her face, which drew all of his attention.

“Thanks. I told Eskel to change his deck to have a better chance, but I never told him I was going to change mine as well.” He could tell by her tone and somewhat forced laugh that she didn’t want to make small talk, that there was something else. He knew what it was, but he wasn’t ready yet. He was damn near a century old and he wasn’t ready. He thought maybe he never would be.

“That seems fair, though I don’t think you need to.” A hint of her relaxed self had slipped through for a moment. So had Geralt when he knew she caught the underlying compliment in his statement. She looked around the clean stables, walking over to the fence and perching on it. Her hands nervously rubbed her thighs as she let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt’s brows furrowed so much it hurt, his eyes piercing her, though she wouldn’t look at him. “I didn’t mean to fall through the ice or invade your personal space here. I understand you guys come here to take a break from society. And I don’t know what I said to make it worse and to make you so dissociated, but I’m sorry. For all of it.” Geralt side stepped Roach to approach her, his hand reaching out as if to calm a cornered animal. When he entered reaching distance, he hesitated, but placed his hand on her upper arm. His thumb made calm swiping motions. He wasn’t sure if it was helping, but he knows Roach always liked it. Geralt didn’t want to compare Y/n to a horse, but his mare was always there, and it’s how he had received social interaction for a really long time. Roach is the only being, other than the woman before him, where he truly felt comfortable interacting with.

“Don’t say that. You’ve done nothing wrong.” His voice was light despite the harshness of the situation. Her gaze finally found his, and he was put into a sort of ease.

“Are you sure?” Because you’ve been avoiding me? Geralt’s face was apologetic and soft. He wanted to clear the air, but he didn’t know if he could bring himself to say it. Those three pesky words that want to rush out of him and never leave all at once. Those three words that have been causing her pain by not being said, but could be worse for her if they were. “You’re sure I haven’t upset you in some way?”

“I don’t think you ever could.” Geralt could tell that she tried to hide it, but the look of hope and shock passed her for a brief moment. She looked to the ground again, biting her lip. They stayed there for a while, Geralt’s thumb never stopping it’s calming circles.

“Do you… Do you think we could do something tomorrow? Like together?” Her glaze flicked up to him, the raw purity shown hitting Geralt like a brick wall.

“What did you have in mind?” Y/n’s lips pursed.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Her shoulders shagged just a touch, but he could tell.

“I was planning to hunt on The Trail tomorrow, a skilled healer should be present.” He could feel his heart swell when she perked up. A smile burst on her and she said playfully and confidently,

“Well, you do seem to get yourself into trouble still. I don’t mind reprising my role as your hero again.” The Witcher rolled his eyes, but grinned. He reluctantly let go of her arm and started to escort her back to the tower. When they had reached her room, he had said goodnight.

“Goodnight to you too, my damsel Bartholomew.” Again, he felt himself rolling his eyes. He was thrown back into the memory of her saving him from the horde of wraiths and that fake name she had given him. She smiled and softly closed the door, the last glimpse of her was going to forever be etched in his mind. From his perspective, she had a holy glow from a candle he couldn’t see, making her the ethereal being she truly was- too gracious for this world.

Her feet pounded just as fast as her heart. Y/n had memorized the way from her room to Geralt’s within the first week, and she’s glad she had. She only hopes that he was actually in the room. Blindly retracing her way to his place, she almost tripped. The adrenaline she had coursing through her would have made it so it wouldn’t have mattered. Tears were already streaming down her face, so more from any temporal pain wouldn’t make a difference. A voice in the back of her mind had felt bad, as she was sure that the others could probably pick up on her panic. She didn’t want to disturb anyone, but with their heightened senses, it was hard not to. She tried, successfully, to keep all external noises to a minimum, but she doubted it helped.

Y/n had soon made it to his door, her hand shaking as it went to knock. Her hand never made it to the wood as Geralt whipped it open. He looked to have been in bed as his hair was a mess and he had loose trousers barely gripping onto his hips. When his eyes met her wet ones there was no hesitation in bringing her to his chest. His nose found her hair, lips pressing to the top of her head. His arms locked around her form, and she let out a sob he could tell she was trying to control and keep quiet. He stepped into the room, but never left her. He pushed the door closed with his foot.

And there they stayed. Y/n freely let out sobs that wracked through her whole body. She almost started coughing, not getting enough air in despite her gasps for it. All Geralt could do was hold her. Her hands were gripping onto his chest as though her life depended on it. It took a couple of minutes, but she finally seemed to calm down some, only silent tears falling. She pulled back somewhat, apologizing. Her hand wiped away tears, but more replaced them just as fast.

“Why are you apologizing again? You’ll never need to apologize to me.” Geralt placed a large hand in the junction between her neck and shoulder, the other where it had been on her upper arm earlier that day. His voice was as gentle as he could make it.

“I-.” A hiccup cut her off. “I had a dream, but it felt real. I just needed to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to disturb you this much.” He was baffled, and it must have shown, because she seemed confused by his reaction. Her brows furrowed and soft sniffles fizzled out in the room.

“You didn’t disturb me.”

“But you were sleeping-.”

“Your wellbeing will never be a disturbance, Y/n.” She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“Would it be okay if I stayed? Just for the night?” He nodded and let her go. He flowed to the bed, lifting the blankets for her to crawl under. She seemed to find a good spot, and he subtly tucked her in. Moving to the other side, he too moved under the covers. It was silent until she spoke up. “I dreamt that someone got to you while you were asleep. I couldn’t do anything because I didn’t come into your room till the next morning. By then… It was too late. It felt so real- like it was a vision or something. I just… Want to be here to help if anything does happen.”

Geralt understood completely. He was a protector of the innocent, but when it came to Y/n, he had always been on the lookout for a nonexistent danger. Even after the first night of traveling together, he would prop himself up closer to her sleeping form to be there before anything else could be. Usually, Jaskier and Geralt would sleep simultaneously, but they had established a system once she started coming along. Jaskier would stay up, playing his lute for a couple hours while Geralt got rest, then they’d switch for the rest of the night. Luckily for the brooding man, Jaskier understood why, and with little jest, complied completely.

“I’ll be okay. You should get some rest. You’re already here, no need to suffer.” Geralt had meant it. He didn’t want her losing sleep over a dream, even if he did understand her need to protect. He had been resting on his back when she sat straight, and leaned over him. Her hand rested on his bare chest, just over his heart.

“I can’t do that. I know it sounds silly, but…” Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “I just can’t.” She stayed there, propped over his chest.

“Thank you.” He again could see her shaking head, but a melancholy smile twisted on her features.

“Don’t thank me.” This confused Geralt, but if she had felt the same as he assumed, it all became clear. And the look of sadness and self-hatred that flared on her set his decision in stone. Geralt sat up to match her, but a hand made sure hers stayed over his slow heart.

“I do. If the situation were reversed, you’d be doing the same. I too wouldn’t need to be thanked, as I would be doing what was necessary.” He could tell that she didn’t understand, and he let out a soft breath. His heart started to beat faster, almost reaching the speed of a normal human’s. Y/n could feel it, her gaze locking onto her hand the pressed more to try and feel it. “It would be foolish to think I wouldn’t protect the one I…love, even if it were a whim.” Her eyes widened, darting to meet his. Geralt’s face was soft, but nervous. He now understood what it meant to have ‘butterflies in your chest’. “I would stay up every night for you, Y/n.”

“Geralt- this is real, right? You really love me back?” He smiled gently before squeezing the hand he trapped to his chest. She let out a short, aggressive, breathless laugh. Her eyes flicked to there hands, but then back up to his, a fresh was of glass covering her irises.

“I think that’s what this feeling is. I’ve never felt it before, but I’m sure.” There was no hesitation on her part; as soon as his sentence was over, her lips were on his.

There was a tinge of guilt through every kiss, touch, smile and conversation spoken between the two. Geralt never felt worthy of her, and he knew she worked overtime to try and express that he was. But he was happy, and from what he could see, so was she.

#geralt x reader #geralt imagine #witcher x reader #witcher imagine

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souljaems · 4 years

Text

↬ “let me let you go” greekgod!au 2 — huang renjun

— “Athena is destined to always win this not ending war, but this time some things are different. You and Renjun are the humans destined to be the reincarnation of the Greek gods and Athena already has awakened inside of you, not completely, but that’s how she can feel that some things are weird. (…) You have too many feelings for Renjun, way too many.”

1st chapter — Blurb intermission 1 — Blurb intermission 2

PAIRING | Hades!Renjun x Athena!reader, w/ mention of Mark as your brother. GENRE | Action - Drama - Angst. AU | greekgod!au WORD COUNT | 5.4K WARNINGS | Aggressive behaviour, violence, reincarnation, mention of death, bruises. DISCLAIMER | I don’t know any of the NCT members personally, I’m writing this based only in my opinions and greek mythology.

↬ PLAYLIST HERE

“Milady?” Aioros asks before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You answer, knowing that your friend won’t be satisfied after he sees that you didn’t eat as much as he wanted you to.

“As I can see, you’re still not hungry.” Aioros takes a deep breath before doing something with his eyebrow that brings you a memory from your brother, he used to do that all the time when he was worried.

Seeing your brother’s body in front of you wasn't easy, but seeing your brother’s body doing things that your brother used to do? That is a low punch.

“Is there anything that I can do to help you? You look pale.” Aioros asks, with concern all over his face. “You really should have eaten more, miss Y/N.”

For hours, you’ve been missing Renjun like crazy. It isn’t usual for you to be in control of your body for an entire day, but Athena doesn’t seem to be coming back any time soon, and you hate it. You hate how your entire body hurts. You hate the feeling that you’re constantly grasping for air, craving for a way out of that pain. Your heart aches. Your mind spins. Your hands are trembling. Your eyes hurt. Your body can’t seem to move probably. You want it to stop.

But you just miss Renjun.

Oh God, you miss your husband so fucking much.

When the two of you decided to get married, both of your families thought you were insane. You two were young adults, how would you be ready for marriage? What did you know about falling in love in the first place? Easy, you didn’t. However, you and Renjun still loved each other like crazy.

You learned how to cook with him. You learned how to clean the house with him. You learned how living felt like with him. Everything you thought you knew, you relearned it having Renjun by your side. Back then, Mark was the only one who supported your decision. He even walked down the aisle with you, since your father wasn’t Renjun’s biggest fan. Those two were your foundation, the ones you could always count on. You’ve always thought that you could always rely on them, that they would always be by your side. Today, you’ve been proven wrong. Neither of them is with you.

“I’m not hungry, just freezing.” You force your lips to move without thinking properly about the actual answer. But seconds after you did, you start to notice how cold your “room” is truly getting.

“Freezing?” Aioros furrows his brows in confusion. “But, we have a good temperature here and...” Aioros stops his sentence when he notices your hands shaking, which seems to be impossible since you have a thick blanket around your figure.

In a matter of seconds, Aioros finally starts to feel the freezing pressure coming from everywhere and smashing onto his body. That feeling, so unknown, but also very familiar, crashes into Aioros’ bones, causing his body to ache at the sudden pressure that it’s making it hard to breathe. It’s already dark outside, but something tells him that the dark blue sky has just turned into a dark deep black. Aioros knows pretty well what could make that happen, being more specific, who.

“Y/N.” You hear Aioros calling your name with a deep voice that you’ve known your entire life. That is Mark’s worried voice. “How long have you been feeling this cold sensation?” He questions in a quieter voice, as he inhales and exhales. The air feels heavier, you’re starting to feel it too.

“Aioros, what’s going on?” You ask, feeling a bunch of shivering going through your body and bristling your hair. “Why am I feeling this? What does this mean?”

“Answer me, please. I need to know how much time we have.” Aioros insists, forcing his body to move through that resistant force as he walks closer to you. “I don’t know, around an hour, maybe?” You answer, with your lips shaking as talking starts to become even harder.

“Damn it! If I’m feeling this just now, it means that he’s close, too much close. I don’t know if we can hide anymore at this point.” Aioros silently curses at the situation, looking around as he begins to think about any possible solutions to avoid a direct conflict. Without Athena in control, it’s too dangerous to risk your life in combat.

“Aioros? Him?” You question, not daring to say Hades name, feeling too afraid of the answer.

Aioros looks at you silently, still. He doesn’t wanna say the words. He doesn’t want to be the one who scares you with bad news. He doesn’t want to see you so sad again. But Hades is close, and as much as either of you want to say it out loud, you both know it.

“But you said that it would still take a while for him to come for us!” You state in a louder scared pitch, only to be quickly shushed by Aioros. “Apparently, he’s way earlier.” Aioros returns, as he starts to look for something in his pocket as if his life depends on it. And it does. “Athena was supposed to be awake in a situation like this. Why isn’t she in control?” He wonders more to himself than to you, not understanding why everything is so different from other past wars. “Can you hear her inside your head?”

“N-no, I can’t contact her.” You shake your head helplessly.

“It’s not here. Shit, I think I left it downstairs. Listen, I need you to stay here, sit on the floor and wait till I come back. We'll have to fight if we want a chance to escape.” Aioros tells you with a sudden light appearing on his eyes. He's ready to die for you if he has to, you can feel it. Somehow you know it.

Aioros is saying a lot of slang, Mark's personal problem when he's nervous. That's how you know things are a lot more serious than it sounds like. A lot more serious than the time allows to explain.

“Fight? Hold on, wait a minute, Aioros, I know nothing about fighting!” You contest in widened eyes. “Trust me, you do. Just wait here.” Aioros looks deep into your eyes for a few seconds before running out of the room, not giving you any chance to debate.

As you're left alone inside the room again, you sit on the cold floor with your head full of worries and for a second, you want to truly believe that it will be enough to keep you away from the hard truth, but when your eyes slip from your focus and shift to stare at your own hands, some forming tears start to appear. The cold Hades' pressure is not the only thing crashing into your heart right now, the fear is also burning you alive.

How can you even think about hurting the body of the man you decided to marry? The man your heart chose to be the one? Your head is not thinking straight in the middle of this situation; however, your heart would never be willing to make him go through any kind of pain.

The hard truth isn’t the fact that Hades is here. The hard truth isn’t the fact that you can barely move your body. The hard truth isn’t the fact that you know nothing about fighting.

Hard Truth time? If a miracle happens and you suddenly remember how to fight as much as Aioros says you do, you won't be able to hurt Hades if the opportunity appears.

“Athena, please, if you’re listening to me, I want you to take control, I mean, I need you to take control right now more than ever... Athena, these hands can’t hurt him. I can’t hurt him.” You let a small cry leave your lips as you stare at both of your opened hands. The same hands Renjun used to hold only a few weeks ago. “I know he’s Hades now and that he won’t hesitate if he has the chance to kill us, but I just can’t. I still love him with all of my heart.” You finish your quiet request with tears dropping off of your face directly to your hands.

Your sobbing is filling the entire room and the fear of Hades hearing you is no longer a problem. You wish you could scream and let the whole world know how miserable you’re feeling without him.

“Even if deep down I know how to fight as Aioros said, I can’t do this, and I can't lose my brother for good as well, so please, take control. Just take control. Do something. Anything." You whisper, putting all of your hopes in that next request. “Don't let me be the one to see the love of my life dying right in front of me.”

“Milady, I need you to let me put this on your neck.” Aioros quickly enters the door and whispers next to you. The second he notices the tears falling down your cheeks, a part of him breaks.

That is exactly what he wanted to avoid so bad. He failed. He wants to dry all of those tears away, take you somewhere safe and just tell you that everything will be okay. But as the pressure starts to crash onto his heart, he knows that possibility could only be reached in a dream.

“This is your armor, perhaps if you have it around your neck, it will help you to remember that you can fight.” Aioros explains as he gently pushes your hair to your neck, putting the gold necklace on you. “We just need some minutes, it will be enough to…”

“Athena! Where are you hiding, my dear old goddess friend? Don't be so rude. That is not the proper way to treat a guest.” Hades' tone is calm, but it also sounds too loud and noisy in your ears almost like he is right next to you, it's so loud that you have to contain yourself not to let a small cry leave your lips. “Especially, when we have some background history together, don't you agree?”

Even if you try to cover your ears, you know nothing will stop Hades' voice to sound loud and clear inside of you, that's the worst part of being somehow connected to the devil himself, you can't get away from him. Aioros puts his finger on his lips, indicating you to stay silent, although he knows nothing can mislead Hades now since your goddess presence attracts him. All he knows is that you need a plan, fast.

“You cannot hide her forever, Aioros.” Hades addresses as he finally stops at the front of the warehouse where you're hiding with Aioros. “Why don't you come out here? We have some unfinished business.”

“He's here.” You mouth with no sound.

At this moment, you know you have no other choice, but to rise, despite not knowing exactly how to do that.

“I don't think your unfinished business involves Aioros, Hades.” You warn him, as you finally stand up close to the open window, letting the thick blanket slip off of your figure.

You can feel Aioros' eyes burning you in the second after you've done it and when your eyes finally meet with Hades', part of you immediately regrets your bold and unthinkable decision.

“Finally! I thought I would have to order my army to burn down all of this place just to find you. Thank you for avoiding such a waste of my time!” Hades states, still in a calm tone as a half-smile takes over his face.

For a second, your whole body petrifies. You know you're looking at Hades, the lord of the dead and the king of the underworld, however, it's extremely weird how angelic he looks and how soothing his voice is, it still sounds like Renjun's voice, but is also deeper, colder and has kind of authority to it. His eyes also burn yours. As much as Hades looks like Renjun, his eyes are nothing your husband’s. Renjun’s eyes used to give you comfort and warmth. Hades’ eyes give you nothing but fear and cold.

The whole look paired with the black hair makes you forget for a second that what you’re seeing it's Renjun's body. However, it doesn't have the appearance of what you pictured Hades to look like either, which is good since you would never be capable of holding that firm posture if the vision ahead of you instantly related Hades to Renjun.

What can you say? It's hard to match an angelic appearance to the greek god who wants you dead. And as absurd as it may sound, you're thankful for it considering that it seems to be the only advantage you have against him.

In a blink of an eye, Hades opens his hands and a flash of cold black lightning hits the warehouse, obliging Aioros to quickly hold you close and jump out of the place before its explosion.

“Milady, I understand that he looks like the man you have loved your entire life, but this is Hades and I won't let him hurt you, even if you ask me to do so.” Aioros warns you as he carefully puts you on your feet again, his eyes never leaving Hades’ figure. “I will have to hurt him, you know that, right?” He stares at Hades, feeling his mythological sword finally physically appearing on his right hand.

“I know.” You lament as one of your hands moves to your necklace, avoiding to look at Hades as you try to pick what’s left of your broken heart. What you feared the most is about to happen. “What's the plan?”

“What about not letting ourselves get killed? How does that sound?” Aioros asks in a fun tone, trying to ease your nervousness as he nimbly moves his sword in circles, stopping it only to point at Hades' direction.

“That sounds like Mark.” You smile at Aioros, hoping that Mark can sometimes talk to you through Aioros, even if his body is now fully reincarnated Aioros.

“That sounds insane, even for you Aioros. You should know that such a plan won't work, especially when I have an army by my side and there are just two of you.” Hades mocks Aioros’ suggestion, motioning with his head to all the army who’s behind him, just waiting till he says the words.

“Really? Allow me then to demonstrate why I'm the strongest Athena knight." Aioros snaps and faster than your eyes could see, he punches the floor, causing the ground to crack and open up, making dozens of Hades' soldiers fall into it before it magically closes.

You gasp, not really believing what your eyes have just seen. But since you have discovered that you have reincarnated Athena, nothing can deeply surprise you anymore. And as far as you can read Hades' unbothered expression, Aioros' attack didn't cause much surprise to him either.

“Your strength abilities remain in good shape, Aioros. If I was truly a human, I would say I'm impressed, but that's not why I'm here. Shall we end this?” Hades sarcastically chuckles while he starts to slowly walk towards Aioros' direction.

You're right behind Aioros and finally, for the first time, you feel something that is not burning fear. You feel your necklace burning around your neck and a golden light starts to surround your figure. Your first impulse is to think that Athena is finally taking the lead of your body, but the feeling rushing through your veins is different: YOU are taking the power. Your power. Part of you wants to believe it's just a crazy impulse, but when your body naturally reacts to Hades moving his hand to throw his dark power at you and Aioros, you know that's not just instinct, that's you.

You rapidly move to the front of Aioros, and before Hades could complete his strike, you move your arm and throw gold energy in the shape of a staff, Athena's mythological staff, right in Hades' direction.

Hades looks incredulous for a second. But then, he recovers from his momentaneous shock fast enough to dodge your attack, regaining his imposing posture right after.

“So, you truly are the reincarnated Athena. I have to admit, I had my doubts about it since your aura didn't fit goddess greatness when I first saw you.” Hades admits as his calm and cold expression comes back to his face.

“How dare you to say that?” Aioros hisses with his eyes full of anger as he closes his fist, aiming to attack Hades to show him a piece of his mind, but you gracefully put your arm in front of him, stopping Aioros from doing so.

"Aioros, don't." Your voice sounds powerful, yet peaceful.

Aioros has been fighting by Athena's side since the age of mythology; and even if he wanted to, he could never confound her with anyone else. He knows her aura or in better words: Your aura.

“Y/N?” Aioros calls for your name in furrowed brows. Your eyes remain still locked in Hades. Aioros recognizes that fierce, yet elegantly look on your face. When seconds later, the mythological staff physically appears on your hand and by that, no doubts are required anymore. You’re somehow her. “Athena.” He states, finally letting a smile come to his lips when you nod with a side smile on your face.

Hades strikes another attack towards you, which you retaliate throwing an arrow made of your golden power that left the tip of your staff, on the direction of his attack, destroying Hades' attempt, however, the greek god manages to stop it with his open palm, crashing the arrow with his power that was centimeters of touching his skin.

“I see you’re weaker than I thought you were. As I can see, I’m not the only one going through a strange situation at this age with my usual body. However, I’m not a fool who's willing to fight a war without my full power capacity.” He smirks, making the golden arrow you throw at him turn to ashes as he closes his palm effortlessly, rubbing his hands together as if he’s cleaning them. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for you yet, I’m only here for Mark’s body.”

Something is different about you, and as much as Aioros tries to figure out what is it, nothing makes him so sure about the fact that somehow you have remained yourself, even with Athena's essence over you, like the next words you say:

“You will have to run over my dead body if that's what you wish.” You threaten him, taking a step forward and putting your body in front of your brother's body. You are not losing your brother. Not today.

“Oh, it will be my pleasure.” Hades smirks, striking another attack at you, but before it could hit your body, you position your mythological staff in front of your body, repelling his dark power back at him, causing one of his soldiers to jump in front of him to receive the attack instead of Hades. “It doesn't matter if my powers are not in their greatest moment in this age, I still am the goddess of strategy, have you forgotten about this?” You state, using the leverage of Hades' lack of attention to hit the floor with your staff, making thousands of Hades' soldiers fall on his feet.

He's standing still, staring at you almost like he is surprised at your last choices. Unlike the other times, you're being bold and not cold and calculating as usual. You are not acting like the old Athena he knows.

“So predictable. Not a good characteristic for someone who claims to be the goddess of strategy, war, and wisdom.” Hades ponders, trying to diminish your strange confidence while he raises his left hand, making all of his fallen soldiers get up on their feet again. “You can't kill the soldiers of the King of the underworld. I decide when they die.”

“But I can take down their leader, just like I've done before.” You chuckle, feeling your whole body being involved in a golden light as your suit armor finally gets out of your necklace to take place on your figure. The gold helmet, the shield on your left arm, your staff still on your right hand, all of them weighing nothing in comparison to the sparkle that has taken place in your now greyish eyes. That is what being a goddess feels like, it's like fire rushing and burning through your veins with nothing being more intense than that. Not even the glory of gold.

When you stare at Aioros', seeing him also with his armor on, you just know what you have to do. You start to run towards Hades with Aioros following and mirroring every single one of your moves from behind, like your own shadow, and before Hades could think about striking any other attack, you throw your staff towards him, causing Hades to again dodge your attack, exactly as you predicted. He just couldn't predict Aioros' sword flying right in his direction. Again, the greek god managed to get away from Aioros' attack, but not without a bleeding cut on his left arm.

Suddenly, you remember one of the most important leverages from other eras: Hades has a blind spot, one he doesn't know about.

“You dare to try to hurt me?” Hades scoffs at the sight of his bleeding arm, staring back at you like you have profaned a sacred territory. “I will take your precious big brother’s body with me, I will leave you alone at this age, and I WILL KILL YOU and every single person you have ever loved in this life, human!” He points at you, feeling his hatred consume his figure and turning the whole place around him colored in a true black.

When silver bolts of lightning and thunders start to surround you and Aioros, you position your left arm with the shield as a way to protect the both of you from the bolts of lightning; but before you can even turn around to ask Aioros for a plan, you feel your knight's hand on your right arm, forcing you to run behind him towards another empty storehouse just like the one you two were hiding earlier.

“What are you doing?!” You question, trying to break off from his grip as he drags you into another abandoned place. “Saving your life. We need to come up with a plan that doesn't involve facing Hades and his army at the same time. We are still weaker than usual and facing a furious Hades without a strategy will get us both killed or too hurt to fight back.” Aioros answers, without looking back at you as he pulls you away from any visible spots.

“I have it under control!” You contest, pulling your hand off of his grasp as you stare at Aioros with a twisted expression on your face.

“Y/N, I know you have emerged with Athena's goddess essence without losing your own essence. And no, I don't have the answer to why this is happening, but you need to get yourself together and understand that you are still the goddess of strategy. We are not gonna win this war with irrational attacks.” Aioros grabs both of your shoulders, shaking you slightly as if that can somehow make you pay attention to him.

“Aioros, I demand you to stop this nonsense!” You force his hands off of your body aggressively. “Hades is outside with his whole army with him, we do not have the time to come up with anything. We need to trust our instincts. This isn’t the time to argue whether a strategy will win the war or not.”

“I’m trying to save your-” “She's right, Aioros.” You again hear Hades' voice loud and clear in your ears. The difference? Now, he truly is inside the empty place, right behind you. “Oh Aioros, tell me you didn't think I couldn't see through my own darkness.” He addresses with nothing but pure irony on his voice, laughing while you slowly turn around to face him.

“I could have killed you right now, Athena, and it would have been so easy. Guess this age has taken your usual keen senses away as much as it has taken your rationality.” Hades opens his arms, and his whole body cracks as a pure form of darkness get out of his body, flying straight to Mark's direction.

You were about to jump in front of Aioros to protect him with your shield, when you hear Renjun's soft and confused voice, calling for your name. There is no way Hades could replicate that. And the fact you looked away from the dark form flying towards Aioros to face your Renjun on his knees for a second, is the leverage Hades needs to enter in Mark's eyes.

All you hear next is the sound of Aioros' body falling on the floor.

“AIOROS!” You outcry, throwing yourself to the floor as you try to hold the now aggressively shaking body of your brother. He’s cold. “Aioros, talk to me, what's going on?” You try to get him to look at you, but Mark's eyes are distant, almost like he's facing his own battle inside of him, which is confirmed when groans and screams of suffering start to leave his mouth. “Aioros! What is happening? What is he doing?” You shake his body, trying to get his attention as you stare helplessly at your brother's body reacting at the evil soul of Hades.

“H-he's trying to kill Aioros, so he can take control of Mark's body.” You hear Renjun's voice by your side, making you stare at him in pure desperation. Not really believing that voice belongs to your husband, not until your eyes finally met again.

For a second, you just sit there still. Your vision is blurred from the remaining darkness that continued on the air after Hades' fast movements, but deep down in your heart, you know that the person next to you is not an illusion. You were so caught up in trying to contact Hades, that you didn’t notice Renjun crawling over the floor till you. The young man next to you still has the black hair falling onto his forehead, but his eyes? Those are the eyes of the man you’re married to. Nothing could replicate those eyes, not even Hades.

A small part of you is relieved to see the love of your life alive, but the other one can't process the fact that you are on the verge of losing your brother.

“How are you alive?” You question him, more to yourself than to him, to be honest. “It doesn't matter right now. But what it does matter is that whatever made my soul continue alive when Hades inside of me, is not going to work in Mark's body if Hades manages to take control. He's going to kill them both.”

“What? No! No, there has to be another way!” You argue, shaking your head aggressively as you refuse to believe in what’s happening. This has to be a lie. A hallucination.

“You’re half Athena now, so if you don't know a solution…” Renjun holds onto his bleeding arm, trying hard to remember about everything Hades had thought when he was inside him, but finding no useful information. “Then I don't think there's one.”

“NO. I refuse to let this happen, Renjun. He is my big brother, my partner in crime, my ride or die best friend. I can't lose my brother to an evil psycho!” You exclaim in fear, staring at Renjun's eyes as if you’re looking for any type of answer they can provide you.

“You won't.” You hear Aioros' voice, followed by the cold sound of the knife he usually keeps close to his waist going through his chest.

And just like that, all the sounds of suffering cease.

You've always heard about those stories where people go through almost a death experience, and how their whole lives go through their heads in a blink of an eye, with tons of memories like flashes. Now you know they aren't true. You're not the one who's about to bleed till death, but you still see all those memories going through your head like a bullet.

The pain and sadness drain through you, taking away all the strength and power that you so firmly and believed that could save you and your brother out of this mess. The only thing left is the ocean of tears that you were trying so much to hold back previously. You have no reason to stop them from falling now.

“MARK!” You screech in pain, gently placing your brother's body on your arms with forming tears on your eyes as his eyes finally meet with yours. “Hey, little sister.” Mark gives you the best smile he could in that position, making your heart feel like it is physically breaking.

“What- Why? Why are you doing this? Have you lost your mind?! Huh?!” You let a loud cry leave your lips, watching as your brother's mouth starts to get filled with his blood. The blood with your genetics. The blood that so deeply connected the two of you. One of the greatest bond you could ever have with someone on earth.

“This-” Mark coughs his own blood, staining your trembling hand that is currently caressing his cheek tenderly. “Hades won't have enough power to hurt you in his abstract form of darkness. He'll have to go back to the underworld, and this will give you enough time to run.”

“Mark, I can't-” You choke on your tears, feeling like all the air inside of your lungs has left you alone. Your sobbing is so loud that for a second you’re scared that the words just won’t leave your mouth. “Goddammit, Mark. I can't lose you. Who is gonna secretly give candy to my future children before dinner? Who is going to show them all the pictures of me with that terrible short cut hair? You can't leave me. Why in this world would Aioros give you this terrible idea?” You hold his head next to your chest, almost like you could stop him from leaving you if only you hold him tight enough.

“He didn't, I came up with the genius plan, he just agreed with me.” He let a weak laugh leave his lips, staring at the person he loves the most in this entire world.

You.

“I'm your ride or die, remember? I have the feeling that Aioros is the same thing for Athena. And because of that, we are more than glad to sacrifice ourselves if that means that both of you will have the chance to stay alive.” Mark coughs on his blood again, getting harder and harder to speak. “Besides, Nike is by your side this time. You're finally going to break this curse and end this war.” Mark elucidates, causing you to shake your head at his statement.

“Nike? The goddess of victory? What are you talking about?” You ask, with all of your tears dropping off of your face and landing on Mark’s face. “Baby, look at your arm.” Renjun touches your right arm, making you look at it for a second, noticing for the first time a drawing of Nike glowing from the inside of your arm.

“Aioros knew something was different about you when you finally fully awakened. It is her… she has come to help us.” Mark finishes his sentence with a hopeful smile on his face, reuniting all of his left strength to cover your hand on his cheek with his own, whispering the last words you would ever hear him say to you: “I love you.”

The only thing that can be heard after that is the loud scream of pure agony that leaves your mouth, filling in the entire empty room.

You have the arms of the man you love around your figure, which was everything you could ask for some minutes ago. But at the same time, your own arms are holding close to your heart the lifeless body of the one person you thought that would never leave your side. The one you love with your whole soul. The one who left you behind with a missing piece of your heart. Your only brother. Your big brother.

Your Mark.

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Shattered Chains or Fate Ch. 6

Isle of Towers, Glass, and Stone

The answers might lie within.

Great. Now the problem is, how does he find those answers at all? How does he go ‘within’ when most of the time he’s going ‘outside’ of his body. Projecting his soul was one thing. He’d done it a dozen times, if not more. Going inside of it? Or his mind? Or whatever within the cryptic asshole of a mage had suggested, was a totally different matter.

“Fucking everyone’s so damn cryptic all the time,” Ichigo scowled, pacing around the house. The cat was still there, watching him with her tail twitching back and forth.

Ichigo still doesn’t know who she’s working for.

There’s about three mage families in the country that are prominent. Tohsaka’s work with gems, the Matou are mostly fallen, and he doesn’t know anything about the other one. Ichigo should probably be more concerned, but he’s got bigger things to worry about right now.

Mainly, figuring out how to find his answers on the inside.

Inside.

Ichigo kept walking in circles, trying to figure it out. Over and over, he walked around and around. In a spiral.

Finally he sat hard on the floor and leaned back.

Jeanne would pray. But she was guided by a god, and an Agent of Counterforce (or some approximation of it). Sanzang followed the voice of buddha/her future self. And Ichigo…

Ichigo has an ever cryptic sage telling him to look inside himself for answers, like something out of a bad movie. Hell, his life at this point might as well be just that. Who else gets into these kinds of situations constantly?

Just him, that’s who.

Ichigo tilts his head back. He’s spent time outside his body. How will he get inside it?

“A backwards… Rayshift?”

Is that even possible? It’s the best idea he has. Ichigo closes his eyes and thinks of Rashifting. The first time it had happened, he had been on the verge of death. Mash had been all but a corpse at his side. Fire had licked across them and CHALDEAS had glowed bloody above their heads. It had vanished, the red turned blue and bright and the fire clearing for a few brief seconds between Chaldea and Fuyuki.

Ichigo breathes, focusing on that.

On the blue, the soft light and the feeling of being weightless. On the knowledge that someone, even if it wasn’t Roman anymore, was out there looking after the integrity of his soul. He breathed in, tasting the air, tasting no ash.

Ichigo breathed out.

He thought of the feeling of Rukia’s gloved hand pushing him out with a rough pop. He thought of the feeling of Kon, sliding into his limbs and chest and head until he was squeezed with no room and no place to go but out.

Ichigo felt the swirl of the shift, the gravity, the whirlpool of energy.

The swirl to the halo of the past. Out, out, out.

Ichigo breathed in and pulled the whirlpool with him. He inverted the spiral of blue and white and light and gravity and twisted it not out of himself but in .

It was the feeling of falling. It was the feeling of flying. It was a pull that he didn’t quite understand, the tug of his instinct dragging him out of danger.

It was the feeling of cement under his feet. It was the feeling of glass against his cheek.

It was a pale blue sky, with smokey puffs of rain clouds floating high above him.

“The fact that you are not more afraid of this man really only leads credibility to my idea that you are insane . He’s at least ten times stronger than all of your companions.”

Ichigo glances sideways, and Kyo. He leans against the wall, watching Karna with something like respect, or maybe admiration in his gaze. Ichigo can understand. Even from as far away as they are, he can feel the heat radiating off of the son of the sun god. It blooms against his skin, but doesn’t scorch him. Not yet, in any case.

It feels strange. This Karna is not the Karna that Ichigo had met and fought against and within his dream of Trifas. They were the same, at their core, but this one didn’t know him. This one wasn’t his friend. This one hadn’t fought a vampire and a near endless supply of false Servants with him.

Instead, this one was here to stop him from going to Edison. To stop him from forcibly beating sense into the insane american presi-king.

It would have been intimidating, but even now Ichigo can tell that Karna doesn’t actually want to kill them.

Like all of those heroes born in the Age of Gods, Karna is insanely powerful. Before him Ichigo is little more than an ant to be stepped on. This Hero of Charity is a legend in every sense, and his reputation is earned. The spikes on his collar speak of danger and death. The spear in his hands pulses with the power and radiates heat like pavement on a summer day.

Karna is the child of a god, and they are, in the end, little more than human.

Kyo isn’t. He’s strong, Ichigo knows that too. He’s at least as strong as some Servants, and Ichigo is certain he’s stronger than he’s letting them think he is. Not only is he strong, he’s smart, and good as playing at being harmless. Even if Ichigo is the only one who can see him regularly, he won’t drop the fake smile on his lips.

How annoying.

“You should withdraw at once!” Nightingale calls to their foe. Ichigo has no intention of letting him stay an enemy, but for now he can’t do anything. They have to beat him first, and then beat Edison over the head.

“Perhaps you’re right. I am infected by an illness called ‘loyalty’. Figuring that out so fast, is it because you’re a nurse?” his head cocks just so.

Nightingale huffs. “No. You’re just easy to understand.”

Ichigo watches Karna deflate, looking upset. “Oh no, we ruined his mystery,” Ichgo couldn’t help teasing.

Mash looked equally put off. “He seems somewhat depressed…”

“Thank you for pointing that out. But no matter. He asked for my help first, and that is all I need to know. The king of inventions knelt before a worthless man like me and asked my help. Besides,” A smile, as warm as his magic, spread across Karna’s face. “He reminds me of a friend. And I am only human, don’t forget.”

“‘Only human’ says the demigod,” Ichigo mutters to Kyo, who snorts elegantly. “We should get this over with.”

“You can’t hope to win,” Kyo argues, but he’s clearly getting used to ichigo’s stubborn nature.

“Fucking watch us.”

Ichigo draws up, prepared to fight-

And Karna turns and walks back down the hallway, called away by Edison.

“Huh. So it’s going to be a trap?” Ichigo muses.

“ ‘ow can is be a trap, if ya know i’s gonna happen?” Cu asks, propping his elbow on Ichigo’s shoulder and leaning on his master. Ichigo scowls at him and shoves him off, but it’s more playful than anything else.

“If it is a trap, it’s wiser for you not to spring it,” Kyo ads.

“Okay, fine. You’re invisible. Go in there and see what we’re up against.” Ichigo points towards the high door to the throne room, at the end of the hall. Kyo just gives him a look.

“Do I look like a servant?” Kyo arches a brow at him regally, and Ichigo shoots him a baleful glare. “Fine. But I expect you to do something for me, in return.”

“Oh joy,” Ichigo rolls his eyes as Kyo walks through the walls, towards the presi-kings throne room. Now he owed a dead man a debt. Just once in his life couldn't one of these people be cooperative? He’d kill to have Chad here with him, even if it was just as emotional support in all this madness.

“Poor master,” Mash mourns. “You look rather mad when you stand there talking at thin air.”

“Hmm?” Medusa cocks her head. “I don’t know, the longer I’m attached to him, the more I think I see faint shadows about where he’s talking at. But that could be my imagination…:

“It could make sense,” Ichigo admitted, “I have poison resistance thanks to Mash. Maybe you guys get to see dead people.”

“Master,” she says slowly, “ We are dead people.”

Ichigo scowls. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

“It’s better than a dumb ass.”

He jumps when Kyo’s voice comes from behind him, smooth and full of amusement. Ichigo turns to scowl at him, but the man is unphased.

“It does seem like it will be a straightforward confrontation. My, you must all be terrible at assassinations.”

Ichigo smacks his arm when Robin winces, missing the fact that Robin must have been able to hear the jibe at his failure. With a frown at Kyo, he leads the way to battle.

* *

He’s laying on a building. Sideways on a building, if he wants to be picky about it.

Ichigo sits up, slowly, looking down at the streets. It’s not the weirdest thing to ever happen. But still weird. Below him looks like a small Karakura town, and outwards are other skyscrapers, and towers of stone and glass. He can recognize turrets of castles that crash haphazardly into pillars of a familiar roman theatre. A flag with a fleur de lis floats in the distance, small atop a dusty building of the Old West. Between some wind long mountain roads that hitch into the metal and stone unnaturally. He can’t see the street, it’s flooded with water and dark shapes move beneath the surface.

Ichigo stands, slowly, trying to focus on staying attached to the building he’s on. He doesn’t dare jump. He might die.

He might actually be dead for all he knows. Did he just accidentally kill himself? This doesn’t look like any afterlife he’s ever heard of…

It was certainly not Kur. Ichigo hopes he hasn’t died. He has promises he needs to keep, and dying would be a conflict of interests right now.

All around him are remnants of places he’s known, of his home and the lands he’s seen. The sky scrapers reach high into the sky, like the fingers of some great giant trying to grasp the clouds themselves.

Ichigo turns his face to the sky. There’s no sun, and far off in the horizon storm clouds brew in dark, angry shades of grey.

“Okay. This is not great,” he says at last. “Where am I?”

Something ruffles the back of his neck, like wind only the air is still and he spins around on his heel, until he sees something dark and flicking behind him. A person. A man, in a black coak that billows around his ankles. It’s edged in red.

“Hey, old man!” Ichigo spins to face him fully. “Who are you?”

“Who am I? I am _____”

Ichigo stares. He couldn’t hear him. He heard every word but his name. Why? What cut it off? There’s no wind, no sound, nothing that would do that.

Even though the strangers face is largely impassive, Ichigo can still see the slightest slanting of his eyes. His disappointment.

“I see. How sad, even now you can’t hear my voice. You, who knows me better than anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo crosses his arms over his chest as the man walks down the pole he’d been standing on and onto the side of the building in front of Ichigo. The distance between them feels like a chasm. “I’ve never met you before.”

Snow flutters around them, small flakes that stick to nothing. It’s just a playful flurry, flickering cold across his skin before it disappears again.

“You’ve known me all your life, even if you don’t know it. And I have known you. I know why you’re here. You’re looking to become another Shinigami, aren’t you?”

Ichigo pauses, but nods in the end. Who is this man? How does he know this? He does feel familiar. More familiar than Chad. More familiar than Mash, even. Why…?

“The old man in the hat said it’s possible, but I have to die. And I can’t do that. I have a promise to keep, so I have to stay alive and save Rukia before I fulfill it. And to do that, I need power I don’t have. Rukia lent me hers, but that’s gone now. There’s no one else anymore.”

No Rukia. No Mash. No Medusa, or Cu. No Romani.

Just him.

“I have no one else to rely on. I have to stand on my own two feet. I have to fight with my own two hands.”

“That’s not true.”

The man walks towards him slow, his heels clicking on the glass of the building.

“Rukia’s power may be gone, but Urahara Kisuke was no wrong when he declared that you have your own Shinigami powers. And you do not fight alone, Ichigo. I fight with you. I always have.”

There’s a vicious vow somewhere in his level voice. A yearning that Ichigo almost misses.

“I don’t understand. Who are you?” Ichigo shakes his head, trying to make sense of everything that’s happening.

The man looks at him, and opens his mouth to repeat his name.

“I am _____”

* * *

They’re the only ones awake.

Ichigo is used to late nights. Sleep is hard to come by these days, and he usually only gets it when he’s too tired to even think, or when Mash’s solid shield lays beside him. The others are doing better than he is. They’re heroes and legends and myths. They have stronger hearts than he does.

Ichigo walks quietly, not so far from the camp that he’ll get himself killed, but far enough that his movements won’t disturb his friends. Medusa is on watch at the perimeter, and she tosses him a somewhat concerned look, but doesn’t try to interrupt him when he sits beside Kyo.

He’s got questions. About a million of them about the afterlife, but he doesn’t really have time for all of them at one time.

And one top of questions about the afterlife, he has just as many about Kyo himself. He’s a mystery. He’s not a heroic spirit. And really, he has no reason to be following Ichigo around besides the fact that Ichigo has forcefully dragged him along.

Not that Kyo couldn’t get away if he wanted to. Ichigo is no fool. Everyone here could kill him with a napkin.

Kyo doesn’t acknowledge him when he sits beside him. Instead he keeps his eyes on the sky. On the stars haloed by the light in the sky. Even with it, there’s a thousand stars in the sky that Ichigo would never be able to see in Karakura. There’s too much light, even in a small city to be able to see this many stars.

The whole milky way stretched across the sky, a painted band of blue and white and pink towards the edge of the horizon.

“Is it the same?” he finds himself asking. Kyo makes a sound of question in the back of his throat, so he elaborates. “The sky. Is it the same where you’ve come from?”

“Seireitei,” Kyo says the words slowly. “The stars are the same, but that’s about it.”

“How do you mean? Isn’t it supposed to be a paradise? Like, Heaven? Elysium? Tian? Valhallah?”

“Are you going to keep listing off afterlifes until I give you a real answer?” Kyo cocks his head, looking somewhat amused.

Ichigo shoots him a crooked grin. “I absolutely will.”

“My, you’re a pest.”

“And you’re rude. Fields of Yula, asphodel, f olkvangr- ”

Kyo claps his hand over ichigo’s mouth to finally shut him up, and Ichigo scowls at him without heat and with smugness.

“Soul Society isn’t exactly like those stories,” Kyo’s smile is somehow soft and bitter and sad at once. Ichigo doesn’t know what to make of it.

“So it’s no paradise,” Ichigo surmises.

Kyo’s brow pinches and his mouth twists. “No. Not quite.”

“Is there some rule saying that you’re not allowed to tell me?”

“No,” Kyo says slowly,” But it is, ill advised. We are taught to tell the souls to pass on that they will find a good place in the next world. A paradise. So they don’t fight us going into a world not so unlike their own. “

“Wow you make death sound inviting,” Ichigo says dryly. He manages to startle a laugh out of Kyo before he sobers again, looking to the stars.

“The closer to the seireitei you get, the better the quality of life. In the first few districts people generally want for nothing, and are elbow to elbow with nobility and their retainers, if they aren’t one of those things already. Most nobles live in Seireitei itself, safe in their walls. But further away…”

“Further away you find the poor, the downtrodden. Poverty is prevalent. Rukongai is separated into districts. Past the fifty ninth districts, most people can’t even afford sandals.It’s violent and bloody out there, and the people who have the most power are the ones least likely to help.”

Kyo’s hands curl and his mouth twists.

Ichigo leans back on his hands. “You should get tips from Robin for overthrowing governments.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Kyo shakes his head, but there’s a light in his eyes that makes Ichigo think that the idea has already crossed his mind at least once. “This is actually my first trip to the human world. I was supposed to arrive in Kyoto, but something went wrong, and now I’m here.”

“It’s probably because Kyoto no longer exists,” Ichigo figures, solemnly, “The only land that exists at this time is here. The United States. Everywhere else has been completely obliterated.”

They had to reverse that. They had to stop this war.

* * * *

They’re caught between a rock and a hard place. Literally.

Ichigo and his Servants, minus Scathach who’s gone ahead of them, are cornered by monsters only Ichigo and Kyo can see and touch.

Kyo is strong. Incredibly strong. He’s already cut down more of the swarm that Ichigo would have ever imagined, and blasted even more with fierce spells of blue and red energy. Yellow chains, and dark crescents. But they just keep coming, and now there’s even stronger ones ripping their way through the sky. They’re smaller and more distinct than the first wave, and as powerful as fifty of them combined.

Even Kyo is struggling against the dozens of them that rip through the sky.

Then it happens.

One of them targets Ichigo and Kyo appears in front of him, striking it down. A second comes screaming in from the side and tears into Kyo’s sword arm.

Blood splatters against Ichigo's cheek.

“Kyo!” Ichigo lunges for him, but Kyo puts up his good hand, stopping him.

“Stay where you are! You’ll only get in the way if you can’t fight. Damn, why are they all here at once?” Kyo grits his teeth and lifts his left arm, shooting off more spells, but without his sword, he’s struggling more to keep up.

Ichigo burns with the feeling of being helpless. He can’t stay there and do nothing.

So he does the only thing he can do.

He shoots forwards, to Kyo’s back, and claps his hand on Kyo’s shoulder. He pours all the spirit energy he possible can into Kyo’s body, until he’s glow with it, blue and white. Kyo looks back at him, stunned.

“Don’t just stand there!” Ichigo barks. “Hit them!”

Kyo nods, once, looking dazed, and lifts his arm at the monsters closing in on them.

“ Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens.”

Blue swirls in front of him, a ball of raw power that flashes and lashes out at the edges, dragging burn scars into the ground and drawing blood off of Kyo’s arms.

“ Hado seventy three! Soren Sokatsui!”

It tears away from Kyo and Ichigo in a devastating force, ripping through the ground and shredding all the monsters in front of them into nothing more than burnt husks.

Ichigo has time enough to register Kyo looking at him with a new light in his eyes before he falls to the ground, the world going black.

* * * * *

“I see.”

The disappointment is back in the man’s face, and it makes Ichigo’s skin crawl. He doesn’t know why. This is a perfect stranger, he shouldn’t care so much what he thinks about him. But he does. It feels gross, a bur under his skin that he just can’t shake.

“You still cannot hear me. Very well then. Perhaps you will hear my voice once you have unlocked your Shinigami powers.”

“Uh huh. I don’t suppose you have a key for that, do you old man?” Ichigo asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The man cocks his head ever so slightly. His hair waves in time with his coat and he taps the window beneath him with the toe of his shoe.

“This world exists inside of you. Inside of your mind. Inside of your very soul. Somewhere in here, somewhere in all these windows and bricks and everything else you’ve ever made a home for in here, you will find what you seak. You will find your shinigami powers somewhere here. Somewhere within.”

“Just like that man said…”

Ichigo is glad for the opportunity, but he doesn’t want to be the one to tell Merlin he was right. The Mage of Flowers will be even more smug than he already is, and Ichigo does not need that at all.

“Fine. I just have to find it then.”

He had no idea how he would do that. If this was inside of him, what would happen if he broke something? What would a shattered window do to he himself? He could only speculate, and he didn’t like any of the things he thought of. So he’d have to go by it delicately.

Was that possible? The only way into the buildings would be through doors that are now thoroughly covered in water.

Needle in a haystack much?

Ichigo runs his fingers through his hair and tilts his head, closing his eyes in thought.

If he was shinigami powers, where would he hide?

Nowhere in the brackets of mountains. Nor in the theatre, or the tall castle towers. Nowhere that he was a Mage.

That ruled out a lot.

This guy said he’d always been with him. Did that mean he was a shinigami this whole time? Why hadn’t they come to him earlier? During the wars? In Kur?

On the banks of the Karakura river.

Ichigo shook his head and opened his eyes again. The old man was staring at him. Waiting. Watching. It was a little creepy. Ichigo’s hair brushed his shoulders when he turned his head to the side, looking down at the water.

Somehow, he had to find his Shinigami powers.

It had to be somewhere in these blue buildings. Maybe…

Ichigo knelt down, knocking at the window under his feet curiously. It was totally solid. There didn’t seem to be so much as a hinge to open it. But inside, there, something white fluttered around.

“...fuck it.”

Ichigo punched his hand through the glass, ignoring the way the shards bit into his arm, and grabbed it. When he pulled his hand back he found a ribbon in his grasp.

White ribbons. Like the ones Uryu had shown him before.

That's it!

Ichigo jumped back, as high up as he could. He landed on the air, the way he had as a shinigami. This was it. This was how he could find it. He scoured the building, the windows, looking for anything that wasn’t blue and white. Anything. It had to be somewhere.

C’mon. Red, red, red-

Ichigo drops back onto the building, understanding dawning. He makes his way over to the strange man and reaches out, grasping the straight sword he’d been standing on before. He pulls, and in his hand comes away a red ribbon that wraps around his wrist. As he pulls the sword from its sheath it flashes with pale blue light, until he’s holding a massive sword almost as long as his body.

Ichigo grins sharply at the old man, a name blossoming on his lips. They speak as one, voices merging.

“Zangetsu.”

Ichigo swings the sword to the side. It feels effortlessly light despite how large it is. It isn’t the foreign feeling of Rukia's power. This is his, and his alone.

When he looks down, he’s wearing Shinigami clothes again. If Kyo could see him now.

“Congratulations, Ichigo. You are, again, a Shinigami.” His voice is low and even. Ichigo glances at his eyes, half hidden by sunglasses.

“Thanks. Although to be honest…. I was kind of hoping I’d be a Quincy, like my mother.”

He doesn’t miss the startled jerk of Zangetsu’s head.

* * * * * *

#bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach/fate grand order #Kon bleach #Ichigo Kurosaki #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #well sorta #Merlin Fate/Grand Order #Urahra Kisuke #Zangetsu #fate grand order #mash kyrielight #kyo (SCoF)

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