#like its always forced n lifeless

[amalythea]

「 hold my hand, please, one last time.」

⤷ info: kazuha, albedo, aether, xiao, wanderer x gn!reader || angst, this is based on the prompt “can i hold your hand?” (or “can you hold my hand?”) || wc: 3104

⤷ warnings: death, this is v v angsty

⤷ extra: i wrote this a while ago back on soleillunne and decided that it was too good to be gone forever lmao

kazuha.

The battlefield was strewn with chaos, and amidst the clash of swords and the cries of war, Kazuha fought with all his might, his heart burdened with the weight of the lives at stake. He had hoped that his skills with the blade and mastery of the Anemo vision would be enough to protect those he held dear, but fate had other plans.

As the battle raged on, he caught a glimpse of his lover, a skilled warrior whose presence had always brought him comfort and strength, you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, you understood each other without uttering a word. It was a silent promise that you would find each other amidst the chaos.

But the tide turned against you, and the enemy’s forces seemed endless. Despite your best efforts, the defenders were overwhelmed, and Kazuha found himself standing back-to-back with you, defending against the onslaught.

In the midst of the chaos, an arrow found its mark. Time seemed to slow as the arrow pierced through your chest, and the world around you faded into the background. Kazuha’s heart clenched in horror as he caught you, your strength waning with each passing moment.

“Kazuha,” you gasped, blood staining your lips. “Can I hold your hand?”

Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes as he clutched your hand tightly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the pain. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice trembling with grief.

Your hand trembled in his grasp, and Kazuha could feel your life slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as the light in your eyes began to fade. You smiled weakly at him, a bittersweet expression filled with love and regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sounds of battle. “I wish… we had more time.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Kazuha pleaded, his voice breaking. “We’ll get through this. I won’t let you go.”

But you knew better, and as your strength waned, you continued to smile at him, your touch growing weaker by the second.

“I love you,” you murmured, your breath becoming shallow. “Always…”

Tears streamed down Kazuha’s cheeks as he held you close, trying to shield you from the harsh reality of the world around you. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the events that led to this tragic moment, but life was unforgiving in its cruelty.

Your hand in his grew colder, and your breathing ceased. Your life force, once vibrant and strong, slipped away, leaving behind only a lifeless body in Kazuha’s arms.

Kazuha held your hand tightly, unable to let go, as if keeping that connection alive could somehow bring you back. He cried out in anguish, the weight of grief crashing down upon him like an unforgiving storm.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Kazuha felt an emptiness he had never known before. He had lost not only a lover but a confidant, a soulmate with whom he had shared dreams, laughter, and countless cherished memories.

And as the battle raged on, Kazuha clung to your lifeless hand, lost in sorrow, with a heart that would forever bear the burden of their memory.

albedo.

Albedo’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his you in his arms. He was just about to descend from his lab on Dragonspine to meet up with you as he promised, only to see you laying on your own blood at the bottom of the mountain. He had seen you only hours prior, he’d laughed with you, but now, all that remained was a sea of sorrow, the bitter taste of loss overwhelming his senses.

He looked down at the face that he had cherished so dearly, now drained of all warmth and life. Your eyes, once filled with light and love, now stared back at him with a haunting emptiness. Albedo’s hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Can you hold my hand?” a weak voice whispered, barely audible amidst the sounds of grief and despair that surrounded them. Albedo’s heart wrenched at the sound, and he quickly took your freezing hand into his own.

Tears streamed down Albedo’s cheeks as he clutched your hand tightly. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice breaking with pain. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you need, my love.”

He brought your intertwined hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the once-warm skin, now cold and lifeless. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter you shared, the dreams you nurtured, and the love you built with each passing day. Now, all that was left were shattered hopes and dreams.

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo whispered, his voice filled with regret and guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”

You weakly shook your head, mustering a faint smile. “No, don’t blame yourself,” you managed to say. “You… you brought me so much happiness, Albedo. Please, don’t forget that.”

Albedo’s heart ached at the words, realizing that he had to find the strength to carry on without you. But it felt like an impossible task, as if the very essence of his being had been torn apart.

“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re my everything.”

You fingers tightened around his hand as if trying to hold on just a little longer. “You’re strong, Albedo. Stronger than you know,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Promise me… you’ll keep going… for both of us.”

Albedo nodded, his tears falling freely now. “I promise,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll live for the both of us. But it won’t be the same without you.”

Your breaths became shallower, and Albedo knew that your life was slipping away. He leaned closer, trying to memorize every detail of your face, never wanting to forget.

“I love you,” you whispered, your words fading like a gentle breeze. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Albedo replied, his voice choked with emotion. “Always and forever.”

And with those final words, your grip on his hand slowly weakened until it was gone completely. Albedo held onto your hand a moment longer, pressing it against his heart as if trying to keep your love alive within him.

As grief consumed him, Albedo felt a mix of emotions. Sorrow, anger, and a deep longing to see his lover again, even if it were just for a moment. But he knew he had to continue, to honor your memory and the love you shared.

Albedo gently laid your body down, closing your eyes with tender care. He stood, feeling the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders, but also the weight of your love, and your belief in him, pushing him forward. Though his heart was shattered, he would carry your love with him, always.

And as he walked away from that place of sorrow, he knew that the pain would remain, but so would the memories of a love that would never truly fade away.

aether.

Aether’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his dying lover in his arms. The battlefield around them had turned into a chaotic canvas of destruction, but his attention was solely focused on the person he held dear. You were slipping away, and he could feel your life force fading like a waning star.

“Can you hold my hand?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of war. Aether’s eyes filled with tears, and he gently clasped your frail hand in his own, interlocking your fingers. His touch was warm, providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.

“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I won’t let go.”

Your breathing was shallow, and your once-bright eyes were now dim, but you managed a faint smile. It was a bittersweet expression, as if you were trying to convey so much in that fleeting moment. Memories of you flooded Aether’s mind, from the first time you met under the starlit sky to the promises you made to each other.

“You have to promise me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “that you’ll keep going. That you’ll find happiness again.”

Aether couldn’t find the strength to respond, his throat constricted with grief. He knew that in a world without his lover, life would lose its luster, its purpose. But he understood that you were trying to ease his pain, even in your last breaths.

“No,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I can’t bear to live without you. Please don’t leave. Not you too.”

You smiled again, a mixture of sadness and love in your eyes. “You are strong, Aether, and you will find the strength to carry on. I will always be with you.”

Aether’s heartache intensified, and he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. He wished he could freeze time, to hold you forever, but he knew it was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

“I love you,” you said, their voice fading into a whisper.

“And I love you,” Aether replied, his voice breaking.

Your grip on his hand loosened, and Aether felt the last pulse of life slip away from you. He held onto your hand a moment longer, not wanting to let go, but eventually, he lowered it gently to your chest.

In that moment, as the world around him continued to rage with chaos, Aether felt an overwhelming emptiness inside. His lover was gone, and the pain of your absence consumed him. But he knew he had to honor your last wish—to find a way to live without you, to keep your love alive in his heart.

With tears in his eyes, Aether kissed your forehead one last time before he stood, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. Your love would forever be his guiding light, and he would cherish every memory, every moment you had shared.

And as the battles raged on and the world continued to turn, Aether vowed to carry your love with him, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. Though your physical presence was gone, your love would endure, a reminder that even in the face of loss, the power of love could transcend beyond the boundaries of life and death.

heizou.

Heizou knelt on the cold, damp ground, cradling your cold body in his arms. He had just returned home from work, when the last thing he expected to see was see you laying on your own blood in your shared home. He held you closer, your blood staining his hands, mingling with his own tears. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, and the pain was almost unbearable.

The world seemed to slow down as Heizou stared into the fading eyes of his beloved. Each second felt like an eternity, and yet, it was slipping away all too quickly. He could see the struggle in your gaze, the effort it took to speak those final words.

“Can I hold your hand?” you whispered, your voice getting lower with each word.

Tears streamed down Heizou’s face, and he gently clasped your trembling hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. He felt your warmth slowly waning, and he held on tighter, as if he could somehow will life back into you with the strength of his grip.

“You don’t have to ask,” Heizou choked out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll hold your hand forever.”

You managed a faint smile, your strength visibly waning. “I… I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” Heizou replied, his voice trembling. “You’re my everything, my reason for living.”

As the commotion outside your shared home began to get louder, the people having noticed the blood stains, Heizou’s focus remained solely on you. The world outside ceased to exist for him, and he poured all his love and energy into holding you, trying to be your anchor in this storm of pain and suffering.

In your last moments, you clung to each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Heizou’s heart ached as he felt your life slipping away from him, the person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. He wished he could have done something, anything, to save you.

But in the end, all he could do was be there, holding your hand, providing them with comfort in their final moments. Heizou would carry the weight of this loss forever, the memories of you etched into his soul.

Even as people left you two alone and the world moved on, Heizou remained on that cold, damp ground, cradling the body of the one he had loved and lost, his heart forever scarred by the pain of that fateful day.

xiao.

Xiao knelt on the damp ground, his heart pounding with anguish as he cradled your shaking form in his arms. The battlefield around you was silent, the chaos of the battle having retreated, leaving behind only the echoes of suffering and loss.

Your once bright eyes, now dulled by death, stared up at him, and Xiao couldn’t bear to look away. Your hands, once intertwined in a promise of eternity, now lay limp and still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“Can you hold my hand?” your voice was a faint whisper, barely audible amidst the devastation surrounding them.

Xiao’s heart shattered at those words, but he gently took your hand in his own, holding it with all the tenderness and love he had for you. “I will always hold your hand,” he choked out, his voice breaking with grief.

You managed a weak smile, the corners of your lips lifting slightly. “Even in death,” you murmured, your voice barely reaching Xiao’s ears.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, my love,” Xiao vowed, his fingers trembling as he clung tightly to the hand that was growing colder by the second. “Even to the ends of this cruel world.”

Your breathing grew fainter, and your grip on his hand loosened. Xiao felt his heartache intensify, knowing that he couldn’t change the cruel fate that had befallen you.

“Thank you… for loving me,” you whispered, your voice a mere thread of sound.

“Thank you for making my life meaningful,” Xiao replied, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m grateful for every moment we shared.”

Your eyes locked for a final time, and in that fleeting moment, a lifetime of love and memories passed between you. Xiao wished he could freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever, but life had other plans.

As the last breath left your lips, Xiao leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll carry you in my heart. Until we meet again.”

He remained there, holding your lifeless hand, as tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood-stained soil beneath you. Xiao knew that a part of him had died that day with his beloved, but he also knew that your love would live on, eternal and undying, no matter the circumstances.

wanderer.

Wanderer knelt on the ground, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled you in his arms. The world around you seemed to blur, the noise of battle fading into an eerie silence. The battle had been brutal, and he had fought with all his might to protect the one he loved, but fate had dealt them a cruel hand.

Your once vibrant eyes now glistened with pain, and a weak smile graced your lips. Blood stained your clothing, and Wanderer could feel your life slipping away.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have much time, do I?”

Wanderer choked back a sob, clutching your body tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you help.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, but it quickly turned into a cough. “You can’t lie to me, my love.” you managed to say, your breath shallow.

Tears finally streamed down Wanderer’s face as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say it often. I can’t bear to lose you.”

You trembled in his grasp, and gazed into his eyes with a mixture of love and sadness. “Can I hold your hand?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Wanderer nodded frantically, intertwining his fingers with yours. He held your hand close to his heart, hoping that somehow he could transfer strength to you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and full of affection, reserved only for you. “You won’t have to. Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll get you help. We’ll face this together.”

Your grip tightened weakly on his hand. “You’re my light, my love, my everything,” you murmured. “You always have been. Promise me you’ll keep shining, even when I’m gone.”

Wanderer could feel whatever was left of his heart shatter with your words. “I promise,” he choked out. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”

Your breathing grew shallower, and your voice became softer. “You’re strong, my love,” you said. “You’ll find a way. Remember me, but don’t let my memory hold you back. Live your life to the fullest. Find happiness again.”

“I can’t imagine life without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How am I supposed to go on?”

Your only response was a brief smile, and he squeezed your cold hand tightly. “I’ll never let go,” he vowed. “Not even when you’re gone.”

Your breathing slowed, and your eyes locked with his one last time. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice fading away.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice cracking.

And then, with your hand still clasped in his, you were gone.

Wanderer held your lifeless form closer, his tears falling like rain. He knew that life would never be the same again, that a piece of his heart had been taken with you. But he also knew that he had to keep the promise he made. With a heavy heart, he stood, carrying your memory with him as he faced the world without you, knowing that he would always carry your love and light with him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

#「 birth of a supernova」 #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #albedo x reader #aether x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha angst #heizou angst #albedo angst #aether angst #wanderer angst #scaramouche angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #kazuha x reader angst #heizou x reader angst #albedo x reader angst #aether x reader angst #wanderer x reader angst #scaramouche x reader angst #xiao x reader angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin impact x reader angst

[devilmademewriteit]

Ultraviolence

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: thank god—a handsome stranger saves you from the grips of a pack of cruel, cruel men. unfortunately, said stranger, joel miller, is cut from the exact same cloth as the rest of them.

warnings: oh. boy. rough sex/smut (fem penetration, fingering, cum play if you squint) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; raider!joel; canon typical violence; mentions of hair pulling/reader having long hair; light dacryphilia; age gap; pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, girl); slapping, spanking, choking; !!!NONCON!!! (sexual violence/assault, coercion, allusions to more sexual abuse—Dead Dove, Do Not Eat y’all, protect yourselves).

word count: 4k+

no use of y/n in this fic

alright y’all!!! here is the non-con raider!joel fic!! stay tuned for the version coming out soon wherein Joel actually rescues the reader LOL join the taglist to be notified when I post it!!! y’all’s requests will quite legit be the death of me BUT this was fun to write so im not mad. this version is just purely depraved & Joel ‘Big Dick’ Miller is a mean mean man. wrote it pretty fast too so b nice 2 me.

love u all, sorry for searing your eyeballs:)

-em<3

—

The stucco prickles and tears at the flushed skin of your cheek, a reminder that it’ll be winter soon. The birds are sure of it, and most of them managed to get away before the frost stood a chance of nipping them.

You didn’t.

After a few years of non-stop struggle, losing everything but your own life, you figured there were worse ways to go. At least you would be… well—you, in the end.

In whatever shape this man and his leering group of accomplices left you in.

“Against the wall,” and his voice had been the crack of a whip, snapping by your ear as electricity shot up and down your spine, as the tingling realization that the chase was over—the jig, up—settled into your bones. “Spread your fuckin’ legs.”

There were more hounds around… waiting.

Always waiting.

They’d already gotten to your old, tattered clothes. The brisk air bites at your exposed skin, but at least the cold would account for the violent shivers wracking your limbs. Even as the beast pins you to the side of the decrepit house, forces himself between your knees, your primary preoccupation is to stifle your fear.

They’d get everything else on display—but they would never get to see that.

When the screaming starts, those confused grunts, huffs, and squelches of a blade carving into flesh, you mostly commend your own imagination:

“I did it. I’m in my happy place. This will be quick, then.”

But then a rough, unfamiliar hand grabs hold of your naked waist, flipping you around, slamming your spine against the frosty stucco.

This is real.

And you bear witness to his carnage.

He painted the side of the house into a mosaic of inter-mingling blood, splattered like a Pollock against the grass, the wrinkled clothes and the rugged face of your salvation.

His eyes rake over your still-trembling body before he wrenches a red-coated knife—never breaking eye-contact—from the throat of the man you’d been at the mercy of just a few seconds ago.

Blood gushes up from the fatal wound, and you both watch the cruel scene, mesmerized. The attacker’s eyes dull, all evil dissipating from that once-ferocious gaze. The rescuer’s big, wide hands flip him over, stripping him of his stained beige jacket. Then, he carelessly kicks the lifeless form face-down onto the yellowing grass.

“Put it on.”

You uncross your arms, snatching the coat from the stranger’s extended hands. It doesn’t bother you, its belonging to him.

He’s dead; you get his coat.

A fair exchange.

He keeps an eye on you as he sorts through the pickings: a few strips of dried meat here, a loaded gun there (two bullets in the clip—you watch as he checks), and a few good blades, stashed inside pockets, bags, and down shirt-fronts.

The man straightens up.

Tall.

“Get in front of me,” his low baritone strikes you, causing your knees to concede to a slight wobble. “You run, you die. Got it?”

Texan.

Slowly, you nod, and a firm grip circles your wrist, tearing you from the wall.

“Walk.”

Your heart hammers—near deafening in your ears—as the stranger stalks behind you, directing your trembling movements with brusque, snapped commands.

Finally, the scattered orangey-red leaves begin to multiply, the domestic remnants of a past civilization thinning. The neighborhood opens into a field; large oaks and slouching willows shiver under the weak glare of the afternoon sun.

There’s a house up there. It seems to be in alright shape (some things are built tougher than others) and it’s certainly a step up from a few of the more… unsavory places the outbreak had led you to.

Nearing it, you take not of how much it resembles a barn-house. Red, pentagonal roof, and a big, wide, brown front door.

Gingerly stepping a foot on the cracked wood of the porch, you turn to face your rescuer, uncertainty tying slippery knots in your tummy.

Because there’s clamour coming from inside. There’s people in there.

The momentary hesitation allows you to get a good look at your rescuer: he’s greying and dark—mixed, likely, or just disposed to a stubborn tan—and probably in his mid forties. Probably handsome, too, if it weren’t for the resident cruel scowl deepening his apathetic expression, or the violence dancing in his eyes.

A raise of his eyebrows.

“I tell you to stop?” He nods towards the looming house. “Move.”

But… you don’t.

“Are you gonna kill me?” and you’re downright shocked by the strength—the resignation—of your tone, the way the question comes out so matter-of-fact.

That sparse mustache crinkles in the corners, teasing into something wicked. “You want me to?”

“No.”

“So get movin’, then.”

That left little room for debate.

So, you turn, fingers and knees shaking with anxious anticipation. He cuts in front of you at the last minute, shoving the front door open with his knife at his side—for you or for something else, you’re not entirely certain.

He pulls you into the foyer by your forearm; to your great dismay, you’re faced with an entire group of middle-aged men. Killers—for sure—leering at you with that same starved, animalistic look your rescuer had fixed you with.

Then, he tosses the bag on the floor.

“Found ‘em by the school. Decent haul.”

Their eyes tilt to your shuddering frame, dwarfed by the jacket weighing down your shoulders. One of them looks strangely familiar, proud features reminding you of something else you were afraid of. “No shit, huh,” he commends, “Nice work, Joel.”

Joel.

As the shaggy-haired man speaks, his voice strikes familial resemblance, and it dawns on you. Your rescuer’s brother, or at the very least a cousin.

And what he says is a clearly marked taunt. That much is clear. Uttered with the kind of cruel camaraderie which collected on the tongues of men who committed acts of violence together.

Who hunted together.

And it’s obvious you’re not being rescued. Just… reclaimed. Redistributed.

Fuck.

Another voice joins the mix. “How much you think y’could get for her?”

Joel’s profile turns, harsh, brutal lines forming as he assesses you. “Depends,” and then—ohmothermary—he smirks.

“Gonna have to test her out first.”

A few snickers.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

You’re trapped with nowhere to go, once again surrounded by a gaggle of soulless monsters. Fear grips you, but thankfully, it’s muted, now, having been mostly expended during the harrowing events of the morning.

Just an hour ago, pressed to the side of an abandoned house, you’d allowed yourself to give up.

So, it feels easy—natural—settling back into that rhythm.

To submit to your inevitable, violent fate.

Joel’s voice cuts through the clamour of your racing thoughts. “Upstairs, the room with the open door. Go.”

Eyes glued to the floor, you put one foot in front of the other, your insides twisting and turning inside your core. Fuck, you can feel the pairs of eyes following you with every step you take. The stairs creak as your weight presses into them, squealing like wounded prey.

“N’ take that fuckin’ jacket off,” Joel calls after you, the echoes of his booming voice and the group’s degrading laughter chasing you all the way up into the room—the one with the open door.

And it’s nice, surprisingly. Dusty, admittedly, and clearly having belonged to someone else—a long, long time ago—but the bed is made, the window lets the light in, and the walls remind you of cinnamon.

No, this wouldn’t be the worst prison. Or the worst place to die. It’s a sure-fire step up from the gutter between two dilapidated houses.

You keep the jacket on, shivering under its weight. Even as you hear footsteps climbing the stairs, even as the more rational, civilized side of your mind urges you to accede to your (non)rescuer’s every command.

The conversation downstairs dies off just as Joel rounds the corner, appearing in the doorway—a giant. Though your stomach lurches, and though your legs feel like putty, you hold your ground.

“I’ll fight, you know,” you hiss, watching him seal off the entrance to the room behind him. His flannel has droplets of blood on the collar—reminders of your previous captor—would your other attacker have been a better option? Who’d be more merciful to your quivering body?

You charge your voice with every last modicum of strength at your disposal. “I’ll fight.”

He turns, smirking softly at your clenched fists. “S’good, sweetheart. I like a little fight.” He stalks towards you, swiping his thumb along the plushness of his bottom lip, his intimidating presence forcing your back to meet the flat hardness of the wall behind you.

So much for fighting.

There’s nothing living in his eyes as he says it—nothing save the roiling flames of hunger: “You see those guys downstairs?”

You glare up at him, trying not to notice the alluring hook of his nose, or the way your body works against you, responding to the earthy smell of him.

Then, you nod, wordlessly.

“Did you count ‘em?” He splays a hand beside your head, using one hand to pry your arms uncrossed.

Again, you nod. “How many?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.

“Five.” Breathless.

“S’right, sweetheart. Ever had your lil’ holes stuffed by five guys at once?”

A swallow, and your voice cracks when you’re finally able to put it to use. “No.”

He pries your elbows to your sides, pulling the beige fabric open, revealing the torn remains of your underwear.

It’s almost a croon, feigned concern underpinning his low tone. “You wanna see what it’s like?” He drinks in the sight of your bare chest, almost groaning at the sight of your naked front.

It’s not cold anymore; no, suddenly you’re very hot.

“No, please, no.”

He slips the coat off of your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap to the ground. He assesses you once more: studying every square inch of your skin under his shadowed eyes.

“M’only gonna say this once, sweetheart.” All that fake-gentleness fades from his tone, replaced by the sadistic, authoritative timbre he’d first greeted you with. “I need you to be very careful.”

You’re frozen—all that fight, it drains out of you, captivated by the raider’s looming form, his mesmerizing speech.

“You’re alone, yeah?” A nod, which he acknowledges, trailing a hand up the length of your waist. “S’what I thought. N’ the way I found you today? That’s a best-case-scenario for a girl like you, out here on your own.”

He drags a finger up the centre of your breast, skilled fingertips just barely brushing the peaked nipple. You lean into his touch—the near imperceptible arch of your back doesn’t go unnoticed, and you kick yourself internally as the corners of his lips twitch up.

Still, the raider ignores your trembling.

“You’re mine, now,” he continues, egged on by your involuntary movement. “Means you’re gonna be a good girl n’ do as I say, n’ I’ll make sure I’m the only man who touches you.” His big hand drops to his heavy silver buckle, and the clearly defined, bulging lines underneath it have your heart clawing out of your chest. Joel senses your fear—and it only makes him harder. “I don’t like sharin’ what’s mine, y’know? But you try anything—you step outta line—I’ll throw you to my guys downstairs.”

His hand finds your throat, hunger and warning beating to the same rhythm in his gaze. “I have no problem watching.” He gives your larynx a squeeze, multitasking as he pulls the strap of his belt through the worn loops of his denim. “Understood?”

You have no words left, shaking from head to toe as the reality of the situation finally settles in.

As he works the intimidating weight of his cock out of his jeans.

A huff. Joel flips you over, impatient, pressing your scraped up cheek to the cinnamon-brown of the wall.

Déjà vù.

Your knees are separated by his own, and his weight flattens you. He wastes no time: lining himself up, his tip separates your folds. Resistance is futile—with one hand, he holds your thighs open—even as they try to press themselves closed, even as you whimper at the rough, male knuckles pressed to bruise on the insides of your legs.

Leaving his mark.

It’s not an option to simply take it. Joel forces you to participate in the sinful act: “I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he growls, gripping your chin indelicately. “You understand me, girl?”

A swallow and a flinch as you feel the head of his cock poke at your entrance. “Yes. Okay. Yes.”

“Yes, Joel,” he corrects. “Use my name. You’re mine now. Use my fuckin’ name.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the promised savagery in his tone. Holding back a sob, you respond: “Yes, Joel.”

You watch his hand, large and capable, splaying out a mere inch away from the tip of your nose. “Good,” he commends. “Z’are the only fuckin’ words you know, from now on.”

His free hand slaps against your hip, yanking you down onto his hard length. Your hips buck up against his abdomen, responding to the pull of his fingertips, even as you cry out at the sting, the stretch. The raider tries to force himself between your walls—muttering a grunted “shit”—and thrusting up against your ass.

But you’re too tight, too tense, and your stubborn body refuses to open up for him. Finally listening to you.

“Relax,” he orders, surprisingly softly. He moves his hand from your hip to the apex of your thighs, rubbing rough circles against your clit. Fuck, how’d he find it so fast? You gasp at the feel of his fingertips against your most sensitive, touch-starved spot, hating yourself for the way his pressure makes you feel.

Because…

Because—fuck.

It feels… good. The man knows exactly what he’s doing—methodical in his ministrations, prepping you only enough to ensure his own eventual pleasure. “S’too tight, baby,” he breathes against your neck, “Need to loosen up for me, yeah?”

He’s not gentle. No part of it is gentle. Nonetheless, pleasure ripples through your centre and down your thighs as he effectively turns you on.

“Thaaaaaa’s right,” and his voice is mocking and taunting and degrading as he drags his digits away, grabbing and pulling at your breasts, instead. Feeling the involuntary release of your cunt, Joel finally pushes himself in, sheathing the long, thick length of his cock inside you.

“Need to show this pussy what it’s fuckin’ made for.”

A current of pain flutters up your cunt just as he fills it up to the brim. You can’t help it—your stoicism crumbles to dust—and a soft, scared, pained whimper tumbles from your lips.

And he groans at it, thrusting roughly, over and over again. And again. “Hurts, does it?”

His breath is hot against your ear, and despite the fear, the ancient instincts gripping your bones, telling you to run, run, run, fight, fight, fight—it’s… enticing.

Hot.

“It hurts.”

He laughs, low and dark, bringing his hands to circle your hips, steadying you as you stumble on your tip-toes.

“Cry about it.”

And he keeps on going, tearing you open. The way his girth touches every starved part of your insides leaves you wanting, even despite the sting of his fingernails biting into your hips, the tears and cuts stinging at your opening.

You hate yourself for it.

But you clench around him, stifling a pathetic moan.

God, no—I am not enjoying this.

He breathes another laugh. “Feelin’ full, baby? Tell me how good it feels, c’mon,” and your inhalations come in heaves as he pounds into you, delivering a harsh slap to the side of your hip, hard enough for your skin to ripple from the contact. “Do as I say.”

When you refuse to sate him, swallowing all of your little noises, Joel grips your throat, bringing your head slamming against his shoulder. Your back arches into a perfect crescent, spine contorting at his will. A gasped cry fans out against his salt-and-pepper jaw.

A sob—of fear, of frustration, of reluctant pleasure. “You’re evil.”

The grip on your throat tightens, and he looses another laugh, squeezing your skin, muscles, and tendons oh-so-tight.

You’d be wrecked, bruised—branded—come sunrise.

“Yeah?” He groans, cock slamming up into your very guts.

“M-mhmm—” and the saltwater tears start pouring, trailing glistening slopes down your cheeks in long, long lines. Distantly, you hear his answer—“Yeah, well, you’re wet”—as those silver droplets keep on falling. Where they come from, you aren’t certain; of course, the terror, the physical torture, and the frustration at your entrapment contribute to the mess under your eyes.

But that warmth… the unbridled desire radiating between your thighs… that wasn’t helping, either.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, muttering another “S’it—s’right,” and releasing your throat to tilt your head up to face him. He drinks in his creation, the ruined sight of your tear-stricken face, and his cock swells between your beaten walls. “God, you look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ it from me—cryin’ like your lil’ pussy ain’t desperate for this.”

Joel smiles when you sob.

It goes on for a while. He doesn’t tire quickly, bringing you right up to the edge of reluctant ecstasy before you remind yourself of the hatred you owed the man fucking into you. You get used to the sound of his hips snapping against your skin, your cries mingling with his gravelly, low grunts. It’s a dirty, depraved symphony—orchestrated by the monster between your thighs.

You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips when he finally, finally brings his fingers back down between your legs. He grunts in approval, barely grazing the length of your folds, pressing his thumb into the delicate flesh of your thigh, instead. “Dirty lil’ girl—fuckin’ dyin’ to be an old man’s whore, z’that it?” and he doesn’t even touch you, focussed on his own pleasure, but the proximity alone is enough to have you wrecked.

And you just can’t help it: “J-joel—”

“Y’know,” he chuckles, slightly out of breath, slowing his strokes to address your wanton whine, “You’re gonna make such a good lil’ fuck-toy, baby, f’you keep makin’ those pretty lil’ noises for me.”

The reality of the situation comes barrelling down on you as he acknowledges—praises—your enjoyment of his torture.

This man… this man was cruel. He was hurting you, and enjoying it.

You struggle against him, a pathetic show of weakness. Joel holds you in place effortlessly, arching your back further, keeping your hips preened back to receive the harsh thrusts he delivers to your torn, ruined cunt. “Where you goin’?” He laughs at your pathetic attempt at resistance, grips tightening. “Thought we were havin’ fun, baby—don’t it feel good?”

And he quickens again, slamming into every needy spot inside you. His breaths grow shallow, as rough as his hands and the ferocity of this punishment.

“No,” you manage, fingernails digging into his forearm.

He tuts, the vocal click constricted with lust, and his hand travels the length of you, settling against that aching bud between your thighs. “Fuckin’ liar.”

He presses down, proving his point. Your entire body tenses as pleasure ripples through you—despite your best efforts, climax crests through your core, threatening to implode within you. Joel hums, smirking when he feels your legs parting even wider.

“S’mine now, alright? You’re mine now.” He crams every inch of his cock up inside you, pulling you flush against his chest. “S’okay to come for me—s’okay, baby, I want you to—s’fuckin’ right, let go for me, baby—” and his crooning takes you over the edge.

Christ, it feels so good.

You clench around him, high-pitched pleas and moans tumbling from your lips, his own pair dragging down the swoop of your ear. In that split second, Joel—the devil at your back—is your favourite thing in the world: your hero, your haven, your God. Fuck, you could just kiss him, marry him, fuck him over and over and over and over—

A hand clamps over your mouth during those brief, blissful moments; the man practically bounces you up and down the length of him, muffling the cries of pain and pleasure tearing from your sore throat against the rough skin of his palm. He groans inside your ear—a stammered, sinful “fuuuck”—and then he’s spilling his seed inside you, shoving it impossibly deep as those quick, harsh strokes stutter and slow.

You come to, waking up from your pleasure-drunk daze. Before you get the opportunity to wriggle away from him, the monster flips you over again, slamming your shoulders to the wall. With his forearm barring your chest, and despite your fear and ire—somehow, all you can think about is the fact that he’s not as out of breath as he really should be (given his age and, of course, what he’d just done to you).

Joel leaks out of you. His cum paints masterpieces down your legs.

He slides his free hand down the length of his cock, collecting the last bits of slick clinging to him and not dripping out of you. The intermingling juices are brought to the roundness of your breasts—the raider slathers your sore peaks with his own spend.

“Nobody’s gonna fuck with you—but that means you’re Joel’s girl. Hear me?” With your head bowed, you glare up at him through silver-lined spider lashes, shame beating at your cheeks. When you hum your acknowledging “uh-huh,” the stranger continues on, gripping your jaw to angle your gaze up: “Means you listen—you-you don’t fuckin’ try me—n’ you take everything I give you, every fuckin’ time. Understand?” He tucks his softening length back in his pants, dark eyes dancing with satisfaction as he leers at your destroyed form.

When you don’t respond, he brings the back of his punishing hand colliding with the side of your face.

Something between a squeal and a gasp tumbles from your lips; Joel catches it, placing the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, pressing down. Your cheek stings from his harsh slap, delivered on top of the scrapes and wounds a different cruel man had left upon your skin.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby, but I will f’I have to,” and he’s earnest, commanding and pleading at once. “You gotta answer me.”

Slowly, you croak out a timid, “Yes,” and an “I understand,” followed by a final “Joel.”

Nodding, he straightens, the violence in his gaze fading just minutely. When he lets go, you stagger—the raider senses the instability of your knees, reflexively snaking a steadying arm around your waist.

You’re not sure where the impulse comes from. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, the aftermath of your orgasm, or maybe it’s just a sick, twisted desire to sink into something beyond your body—either way, you respond to Joel’s support by throwing your arms around his neck.

And he responds by lifting you, walking you over to the bed, and tossing you down on the sheets. Awakening into reality, you scamper back, grabbing and yanking at the surrounding bedding in a desperate attempt to cover yourself.

But Joel pays you no mind.

Having had his way, he’s through with you—for now. Nonchalantly, apathetically, he runs a hand through his hair, tracing heavy steps towards the door.

“Lock the door when I leave,” he instructs, but his tone is soft… possessive and commanding, yes, but… caring. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

He waits for your show of understanding, your near imperceptible nod.

Then, he sighs, yanking on the handle and giving you his final address over a pair of creaky, squeaky, rusted hinges. “Try to sleep, sweetheart—got a long night ahead of you.” Chuckling to himself, he leaves the sanctuary of the room.

All you can hear as your body grows heavy and warm, travelling somewhere far, far beyond this violent world are the echoes of male laughter down the hall, and a familiar, satisfied, gravelly voice:

“Not worth much, now. Might just fuckin’ keep her.”

And you slip away, dreaming of belt buckles, blood-stained collars, and the lung-squeezing heat of the setting Texan sun.

—

He used to call me DN

That stood for deadly nightshade

'Cause I was filled with poison

But blessed with beauty and rage

Jim told me that

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

Jim brought me back

Reminding me of when we were kids

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

He used to call me poison

Like I was poison ivy

I could've died right then

'Cause he was right beside me

Jim raised me up

He hurt me but it felt like true love

Jim taught me that

Loving him was never enough

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

We can go back to New York

Loving you was really hard

We could go back to Woodstock

Where they don't know who we are

Heaven is on earth

I would do anything for you, babe

Blessed is this union

Crying tears of gold, like lemonade

I love you the first time

I love you the last time

Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines

'Cause I'm your jazz singer

And you're my cult leader

I love you forever

I love you forever

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo @dzaga890 @killerrxger @niallsbunny @cilliansangel @snowyarcher @grnherbs @mswarriorbabe80 @tercabed @sweettea-and-honeybutter @bbyanarchist @thisgirl-knm @pedrit0-pascalit0

TAGS WILL CONTINUE IN A REBLOG (there are simply too many of you & I don’t want this post to crash <3)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #tlou #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #Joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou

[raginglesbian2006]

I was wondering if I could request Alastor and a hunter reader and the reader hunted deer when they were alive so meeting a deer demon would be interesting! Only if you want! Congrats on your followers- Remember to drink water and eat a snack!

Can I be ✨ anon?

of course! and thank you so much for the congratulations! Please remember to take care of yourself as well!

Time for some deer puns! >:)

Oh, Deer!

A/N: look at my baby girl :)

Your first meeting with the famed radio demon had been... interesting, to say the least.

You had stumbled upon a swamp-like area while on your daily strolls through hell. Being a hunter when you were alive naturally kicked in your curiosity and you made the decision to wander through the place. Perhaps, you had hoped, you'd get some fresh kill.

As you made your way around the tall trees- their canopies hanging over your head- your ears picked up a sound.

"Radio static? Why is there a radio around here?" you wondered.

Your curiosity grew even further. You took another step.

And another.

And another-

Wait.

Your eyes widened slightly.

"Is that...a deer...demon?"

From where you stood, you could see the demon, happily munching on raw venison. He was seated quite elegantly at a lovely little table. He took small bites with the help of his fork, the static growing with each satisfying bite.

You moved back slightly, your mind telling you to walk away when suddenly, you heard a crunch.

A lone dry twig lay smashed against the sole of your shoe.

There was an eerie silence following this. You looked back at where the demon was...but you found no one, save for the lifeless deer who lay sprawled on the table, guts out for everyone to see.

Without a warning, something grabbed you by the neck and shoved you against a tree. You let out a startled scream.

Your eyes found the demon-his form looking so much more...terrifying than what you'd seen before. His eyes were wide and his pupils resembled that of radio dials. His mouth was stretched in a frightening grin as blood poured through his sharp teeth. His antlers grew larger by the second. Tentacles arose from around him menacingly as one held you against the tree.

Sure you could die right now but all you could think of at the moment was that he looked...majestic.

"₩Ⱨ₳₮ ł₴ ₳ ₱₳₮ⱧɆ₮ł₵ ₴ł₦₦ɆⱤ Ⱡł₭Ɇ ɎØɄ ĐØł₦₲ ł₦ ₥Ɏ ₣ØⱤɆ₴₮?" His voice came out distorted. You winced as the static grew louder than ever.

"I-I s-swear, I was just passing through!" you wheezed out.

You felt the pressure around your neck increase. Tears started pooling around your eyes.

"₳₦Đ ⱧØ₩ ĐØ ł ₭₦Ø₩ ɎØɄ ₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ฿Ɇ ₮ⱤɄ₴₮ɆĐ?"

Your free hands scrambled to reach your pocket. You pulled out your hunting license- something you had died with back when you were alive, showing it to him.

"I-I'm a hunter! I stumbled upon this f-forest and I-I wanted to s-see if I'd get some f-fresh kill!" you managed to voice out, despite your breath being restricted.

You fell to the ground suddenly, as the static around you returned to its normal range. You started breathing in short gasps, your body adjusting to the release of force from around your neck.

"Well, why did you not say so?" the demon said, jovially, "I am always delighted to meet another hunter like myself!"

You felt yourself be pulled up, your arms clutched around his claws. You managed to find your balance and stood on your shaking limbs.

The demon then grabbed your hand and shook it, fervently, "My name is Alastor. It's a pleasure meeting you,dear! Quite the pleasure!"

His eyes caught onto the reprehensive look on your face as he continued, "I do apologize for my behavior. It's just that when you're a powerful overlord like myself," he gloated, "It becomes hard differentiating friend from foe. One can never be too careful!"

You nodded hesitantly, "I do not mean to pose any harm to you, Alastor. As I said, I truly did not know this," you gestured to your surroundings, "belonged to you."

Alastor hummed in reply and then patted the top of your head, "Do not worry, my dear. We are in hell after all. Errors are a common thing."

He then looked at you with a curious eye, "You said you were a hunter. Oh, do tell me more."

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

And that was how you become acquainted with the radio demon himself. As mentioned previously, you were a hunter back when you were alive but what you loved hunting the most, was deer. In fact, it was the deer-hunting shenanigans that led to you dying in the first place.

Alastor and you bonded over your shared love for venison, albeit you liked it a bit more...cooked. On one of his many meetings with you, he showcased his wide array of guns, perfectly polished and ready to be used. Safe to say, you were starstruck.

You never questioned his deer-like features. You assumed it had something to do with his death so you never pestered him about it. You valued your afterlife a whole lot more.

(Although you did want to touch his ears so badly. They looked so incredibly fluffy.)

You remember you managed to take a glimpse of his little tail when he took off his overcoat. He found you ogling at his rear which prompted him to threaten you to keep your lips sealed. You did, of course.

And my god, did the two of you love deer puns... (Brace yourselves, folks)

"What did the deer say after he finished eating?"

You looked at Alastor, eyeing him from above your cup of coffee, "What?"

"That was deer-licious!"

You choked on your drink, as you laughed.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

"Hey Al!" you called out to him.

Alastor turned to you, his head turning 360 without his body turning the same way, "Yes, dear?"

"What’s a buck’s least favorite sandwich bread?"

Alastor hummed, "No-eye-deer!"

You burst out laughing, "No! Let me finish my pun!" You took a deep breath to sound out your answer.

"Sour doe!"

A boisterous laugh from the radio demon ensued.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

If you were told years ago that you would befriend a fearsome cannibalistic overlord, you would have laughed at their face.

Welp, how the turn tables.

A/N: Well this turned out a bit different from what I'd planned but I do hope you enjoy it! Also, I do apologize for not answering this request for so long T-T. I procrastinate a lot.

Also, I must say I truly resisted getting Alastor to say, "Get out of mah swamp!" XD

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #request

[jksprincess10]

I can sabotage me by myself || Joel Miller x reader

A/N: This is a part two of lucky for me, I run on spite and sweet revenge. Can be read on its own. I wanted to write more of ennemy!yn and violent Joel.

CW: Attempted rape (not graphic), violence, jealous!Joel, Joel being toxic and protective, smut, thigh riding, car sex, angst but comfort, language, rough filthy sex, toxic relationship (seriously if a man talks to you like that, leave his ass).

Read part 3 here

After that night, you said you’d try to work together. Well, sort of. You made some deals that would advantage both of you. But most of the time, you just tried to stay out of his way and him, out of yours. Sometimes, you’d also meet in the darkness of the night to fulfill your desires of violence and lust.

Tonight, you had a huge deal to help out your group and Joel. You were supposed to get a car battery for a vehicle that you found just outside of the QZ. It was in good shape; it just needed a new battery. With a car, you’d be able to cover more distance outside of the QZ.

Joel was supposed to meet you, but you decided to go to the headquarter first. Part of you wanted to show him that you were capable of doing this alone, that he could benefit more from you than you could benefit from him.

You were so wrong.

You met Noah’s assistant, Elijah, at the group’s headquarters. They had a strong hand over most deals inside the walls. They were very powerful, and Noah and Elijah were known to be very dangerous men. But you knew men like them. They all had the same weaknesses.

“You got what we want?” You asked Elijah without waiting for him to talk first. He was alone, but you knew there was always more men lurking around and waiting for his signal.

“Yeah. Thought you’d come with Miller, though.” He pointed you to the battery to show that it was legit. It had barely any wear to it.

“He was busy.” You justified.

You were satisfied with the battery. You kneeled on the floor to open your bag to get your things to exchange. You had fresh vegetables that you had grown.

“Wait, baby doll, I thought you would give me something else.” He shot with a suggestive look.

You tried to get up to your feet, but he held you there. Catastrophic scenarios ran through your head as he was caressing your shoulders slowly.

“That’s not how I work anymore.” You said coldly.

But he kept going. You waited for him to be distracted, before twisting his wrist. He groaned in pain, which sufficed to alert his other men. Soon, four men, including Elijah, trapped you in a circle of their bodies. You fought how you could; biting and cutting, not wanting to alert more people by using your gun. You knew you couldn’t last long that way though, and soon, you found yourself with your cheek on the cold ground, trying to counter the blows of fists and the kicks to your body. You tried to take everything silently in hopes they would stop, until the world became disappeared before your eyes, replaced by pure darkness.

***

You woke up to grunts and the sound of violent punches. You barely moved not to alert anyone; besides, your whole body was sore.

“What the FUCK have you done to her?!”

You barely turned your head to the sound of the familiar voice. Joel. Three of the men were already dead, their lifeless bodies close to yours. The only left was Elijah, in a struggle with the older man, who was trying to strangle him.

“Since when do you care about this whore, Miller?!”

That was enough to enrage him even more. He saw everything in red. Elijah was thrown to the ground and Joel punched him repeatedly  in the face, teeth, and blood flying to the ground, until he was silenced forever.

Slowly, you sat up, wincing under the pain. The sound of you getting up took Joel out of his violent fit, well, you thought so.

“You fucking careless girl… I said not to fucking go alone.”

He took the battery in one arm, before grabbing you with his hand to force you to get up completely. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming in pain.

“I don’t fucking need you Miller.” You spat at his face, before painfully trying to get away from him.

“Well, now since you put us in deep shit, you’re stuck with me. And we have to leave. Far. Before they find us. Can you run?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll have to try, because I sure can’t carry you with this battery. And we’ll need it to get as far away as possible.”

You nodded and followed him in the dark alleyways to try and outwit the men that would try to follow you as they were alerted with the noise. A few of them did try, yes, but luckily, Joel shot them first as you painfully tried to stick to the older man’s side.

***

You didn’t have a hard time to get out of the QZ, you two had your ways around it. The car battery miraculously worked and you silently jumped to the passenger side, grateful to finally be able to sit down, even though it sent pain down your whole body.

Joel was driving in his silent rage. You took the time to look at him, he had a few cuts on his face and hands, but he was mostly okay.

You, on the other hand… You got scared by your own reflection in the car mirror. You looked like someone had tried to paint parts of your face in blue and purple, but the painting wasn’t pretty, it was grotesque and sad.

“I’m sor-” You tried to articulate.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear a fucking word from your mouth, girl.”

He didn’t have to be so disrespectful. Filled by your hate, you stuck your knife in the old car leather seat, near his face. He barely flinched, knuckles turning white as they were holding the wheel.

“Fuck you, Miller.” You said as you spat blood out of the window.

And that was the last sentence you addressed to him in a while.

The car eventually stopped at a spot that was deemed safe. It looked like an old car dump. Surely, you’d be invisible here. You tried to sleep in the passenger seat to recover slowly, while Joel was trying to find water and a small rabbit to eat.

He opened the door when he was back. You lost the track of time, but he seemed successful. A fire was already started. He helped you sit near the warmth source. He fed you cooked pieces of meat, slowly and patiently. Even though you could tell he was tired from his chocolate eyes. Even though he could tell you wanted to bite his fingers off.

“He tried to force me…” You finally said, before choking on a sob, letting go of your anger for Joel.

He didn’t say anything and took a piece of cloth out of his backpack, before wetting it with the water that was turning lukewarm. He cleaned your face and you leaned into the older man’s touch, like a cat starved for more pets.

“I don’t want to do that again, Joel. I… there must be another way, right?”

He nodded silently. He was still visibly mad.

“Can I see the damage on your legs to clean your wounds?”

You let him help you take down your pants, discovering a new grotesque and bloody painting. He kept cleaning your wounds silently, and in this moment, you were thankful for him. You put up your jeans when he was done and took a clean piece of the rag to wash the cuts on his face. Your lips placed a kiss on the wound over his bushy eyebrow, collecting a bit of blood there. You licked your lips to feel the pain he was in. He took your hands in his to stop you.

“You should sleep in the car to be more comfortable.” He simply said coolly. “I’ll keep watch.”

Without another word, your disappeared into the backseat of the car with a blanket you had found in one of the vehicles that was dumped here. You fell in a mostly comfortable sleep.

The door opened, and you heard it like you were still in your dreams. A warm body pressed to yours, arms flexing to lift you up to his mouth. You opened your eyes with Joel’s chapped lips still on yours and you leaned into the kiss. You both tasted like remains of blood and meat, but you didn’t care. The kiss stopped only when he held you down by the throat, carefully, barely pressing.

“For the record, I’m still mad at you.”

You nodded with a grin and put your small fingers around his wrist, pressing against his rough skin.

“And I don’t want you to fuck with another man, ever. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll take care of you. If another man tries to touch you, he will end up dead like all of those idiots.”

You nodded again, too numb to talk.

“And I’ll take care of the deals.”

You slapped his hand so he would leave your throat, and he did.

“Nope. You’ll come with me, that’s all.” You argued.

“But-”

“Didn’t know you were such a talker, Miller. I preferred when you would shut the fuck up or just use your mouth to insult me.”

He groaned, before adding: “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s the only way I’ll keep working with you, and you need me. I’m a great distraction.”

“That, you are.” You finally saw him smile.

You left him more space and he sat down beside you, before you slowly straightened up. You found lazily your way to his lap, thighs on each side of his legs. You felt pain everywhere, but you needed to be close to him. His rough hand stroked slowly your cheek while he looked up at you with a hardened gaze.

“Tell me you won’t be with another man.” His voice was stern.

“Can’t promise…” You responded with a shit-eating grin.

His free hand undid your pants and dragged them down to your thighs with your panties, before he slapped your ass harshly. You let out a cry of pain, body falling onto his, before the hand that was stroking your face held your hair. He pulled on your strands to make you look at his face. You hated how this scary side of him turned you on, but your relationship always had been like this.

“Tell. Me.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t what?” He pulled more on your hair.

“Be with another man. I promise. Don’t need anyone else.” Ironic for someone who had told him earlier you didn’t need him.

He finally let go and you could catch your breath again. In your heart, you knew that you were sincere. But softness would wait. Fingers slowly traced your slit as you felt warmth traveling down your body. You fell on him again, too weak to hold yourself up. This time, he accepted it and held you with his other hand as he placed soft kisses on your forehead, the only part of your face that wasn’t bruised. You didn’t know why he still wanted you in that terrible state, but you were thankful for the distraction from the pain.

“I’ll make you cum once. And I want you to ride my thigh. Understood?”

“Talk less.” You simply said with a grin.

One of his fingers found its way to your clit, which he teased too softly. You pressed your hips into his touch, aching for more. He understood, picking up the pace as two other fingers took care of your entrance. He filled you up like this, while his finger was flicking over your sensitive ball of nerves. You Kept moving your hips as you felt your release coming. His free hand slapped your ass a few times, the pain bringing you faster to your edge. You came with a soft moan, his name glued to your lips. His wet fingers came up to your lips and you happily sucked them in your mouth, before biting them. He let go of your mouth, before he lazily took off completely the bottom half of your clothes.

He positioned you over his clothed thigh, where you left a small trail of your juices. With a hand on the small of your back, he helped you move against his leg, the friction stimulating your body again. Your own thigh was pressing into his bulge, pleasuring him with each movement against his thigh. You both looked like desperate teenagers trying to get it on in your first car while your parents thought you had gone to the cinema.

“Hm… not enough, Joel…” You moaned softly against his ear as you grinded on his thigh. “Want you to fill me up. Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. ” He admitted, brown eyes filled with more concern than lust.

“I don’t care about pain. This pain is better… than the rest. You’re the only man that I’ll let hurt me. Please.”

“Okay.” He responded in a breath, your words going straight to his erection. His experienced hands undid his belt, and he took his member out, leaving the rest of him completely clothed. You both were too desperate to take more time.

He spat on his hand to wet you more, before sliding you down his cock. You breathed harshly. Your whole body hurt, but you were hoping that the pleasure would wash away the pain. You didn’t have to move anymore, he held you down as he fucked into you harshly, his hips coming up and down as he pleasured himself with your body. You buried your face into the older man’s neck, sucking on his skin to hide your moans. He let you hide, too concentrated on his own pleasure.

After a while, he slowed down a bit. He was tired and his stamina was running out, his age catching up to him.

“Tired, old man?” You asked, amused.

“Killing… people… does… that… to you.” He responded between thrusts.

Your teasing gave him the strength necessary to fuck you harshly. You hid your moans against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and licking into his mouth as he was approaching his end. He pulled out and cum spilled between you two, marking your thighs. He washed you two up with an old rag and let you fall back into the backseat.

“Joel… I was… I was sincere. Were you?”

“I was.”

“Good. And for the record, I’m… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“I forgive you.”

He massaged softly your sore legs under the blanket as you drifted back to sleep.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x reader

[yourneighborhoodporg]

Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

#anakin x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #obi wan my beloved #obi wan x oc #obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan and anakin #fluff #obi wan x anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin smut #obi wan #obi wan smut #smut #banter #jedi reader #x reader #anakin x you #anakin and obi wan #anakin x oc #anakin x y/n #anakin x fem reader #obi wan kenobi smut #obi wan star wars #sw prequels #anakin #prequels #jedi oc

[chronicbeans]

What do you think puppeteer wally would do if puppet y/n suddenly turned human?

Oh boy, he's going to go crazy. Let's go!

Puppeteer Wally if Puppet Reader turned Human:

TW: Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Delusions/Overly High Expectations, Perfectionism, Overprotective Behavior

He's over the moon with excitement! His (Y/N)? Human?! Now they can really be together, as in, he can take you outside and show you off! As a puppet, he couldn't really take you outside. If he did, you would have to act limp and lifeless. After all, what would the average person think of a puppet that moves and talks on its own? They'd probably scream "Haunted puppet! Creepy doll! Monstrous creature!" It just never felt right to take you out on a "date" at the mall or a restaurant, only for you to not be able to do anything.

Now that you are human, however, he can take you on those dates! It'll be just like his fantasies! Candlelit dinners, shopping sprees (he'll be sure to carry all the bags, no matter how many or how heavy they are), walks under the moonlight... Yes, exactly like his fantasies!

If you happen to look any different than your puppet form, such as (S/C) skin instead of say... the (F/C) felt that made up your puppet form's skin tone, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he finds it even more adorable than before! Your appearance in this human form, he tells himself, is simply the true you! The true culmination of every value you embody. The kindness, acceptance, patience, generosity... This human form is the true form of you, since you are those things... It may sound confusing when said aloud or written down, but to Wally, his complex thought process behind this belief makes complete sense. If anybody doesn't understand it, they simply don't have the open mind to do so. If you don't understand it, it's because you shouldn't worry your pretty little head over it.

He's been wanting to take you out somewhere for a long time, now. He hated seeing you so sad and upset in his home, looking outside with such longing. He's also terrified of the fact that, once he does take you outside, there is a chance you will run away. So, it'll take a while before he finally decides to bring you somewhere, mainly because he makes sure to plan everything ahead of time. There will be no escaping from him during this little outing. He's planned for every situation he can think of.

Another side effect of him longing to take you out is that he wants it to be perfect. It must be exactly like his imagination - with a few exceptions, of course. He may make sure that the entirety of a candlelit dinner goes exactly like his fantasies, but if you don't want to have the romantic kiss at the end, like he always imagined you would, he won't make you. He may be a bit... Unhealthy to be in this "relationship" with, but he has strong boundaries regarding physical affection. Forcing hugs and cuddles is completely fine, and he does it rather often. Anything beyond that, though? He would never dream of it! He won't even kiss you on the cheek if you say you don't want him to.

Cuddling with you as a human, is 20× better than you as a puppet, in his opinion. While puppet you may be soft and plush, human you is equally as soft, trading plushness for warmth! He also gets to listen to your relaxing heartbeat. It really grounds him whenever he gets overstimulated from work, anxiety, or even his own emotions for you. Sometimes his head and heart are filled with so many thoughts and emotions about how much he loves you, he can't put them into words, causing him to get overstimulated- which then results in an instant cuddle session that lasts two hours. Beats when you were a puppet, where he would sometimes forget that you are sentient and shake you like a plush toy, which he did before you came to life.

Speaking of puppet you... he would still want to control you, in some ways. One of his best (read: unhealthy but it worked miracles for him) coping mechanisms for fears that you would leave him would be puppeteering you to tell him exactly what he wants to hear. If he thought that you hated him and wanted to leave, he'd simply have you say "Oh, I love you, Wally! Why would I even think of leaving?" He can't exactly do that, now that you are human... So, he has gone to try to control as much as he still can.

What you eat, what you are allowed to do, what you watch... As much as he can. Much like his boundaries on affection, however, he has some strong ones here. Anything he views as being creative and expressive will always be allowed!

Cooking is creative. You can cook whatever you want, as long as he watches to make sure you don't hurt yourself. He already controls what's in the fridge and cabinets, anyway, so he is still controlling what is being eaten. He'll even eat whatever you make, complimenting it and giving you advice on how to improve.

Drawing, painting, and writing are creative. That's happily allowed, as long as he can see the drawings and paintings you make. He's... tried to read what you write, but has realized how defensive people can get over it. Especially if you decide to write a diary or journal. He'd rather not have you crying and screaming at him, again, so he'll let you show him when you are ready.

Finally, fashion is considered creative. He won't control what you wear. The only exception is when he wants to play dress up. He'll go out and buy a bunch of clothing for you, then have you try them on. Even then, though, he tries to buy things that he thinks you will like, based on things you've liked previously, things you've looked at in the store or online, and what you wore in the show. He also sees playing dress up not as forcing you to wear different clothes or to change your creative expression, but as providing more options and opportunities to expand your style and expression. He also hopes it helps you adjust to the human world, as you and Julie played dress up a lot in the shows and books.

Overall, he will become a bit more lenient in certain ways, but it is cancelled out by how he becomes more strict in others. As a puppet, you didn't eat or drink, so he didn't have to worry about that. Now, he does need to worry, so he tries to control it. However, he is now letting you go outside with him, and even buys you whatever you want as long as he doesn't see it as something that can help you escape. He doesn't worry as much about you hurting yourself around the house, due to you now being a human. As a puppet, not only could you get ripped, you simply getting wet could cause damage, as well as the possibility of you getting stained. As a human, you are safe from that, but he will now be constantly fussing over the possibility of you getting sick.

You being human will simply cause his controlling, possessive, and overprotective behaviors to switch and evolve to work for a human instead of a puppet. Wanting things to go as he fantasizes about still happened when you were a puppet, but they only involved activities around the house. He's just... adapted to the situation.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home au #welcome home puppeteer wally au #welcome home puppeteer wally

[coalswriting]

in the wilderness with you (part ii) - shauna shipman

part i

summary – (y/n) and shauna finally talk about the tension. (approx. 2.5k words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

when you were younger, your father used to take you and your mother camping every summer. you would drive north for two days in your stuffy family campervan to a location in the maine wilderness where you would enjoy the wilds as a family.

you often felt isolated after the first few days since you could only handle being with your parents for so long. as you got older, year by year, you became more intolerant of going, and you began to dread the holiday. two weeks with no landline; two weeks without seeing your friends; two weeks stuck in your own head.

the last year that you went camping with your family was the worst time. your father had normally fished for the family on the river that ran through the forest, but this time, he smiled at you as he held his brand-new rifle. “she’s a beauty, ain’t she, (y/n)?”, he smiled, delight dripping from every word.

you simply blinked at him, “what are you going to hunt with that? bears?”

he chuckled, shifting his hand into a ‘come-hither’ motion as if to command you to follow him. “you’ll see, come on, i’ll show you how to shoot it.”

you really didn’t want to join him, but you caught your legs following his rhythm subconsciously. your mind wandered; you never minded your father fishing for food, but hunting? that seemed a little far. weapons were destructive items of war, and you felt uncomfortable with the idea of your father shooting down an innocent animal. suddenly, you were stopped by a hand stretched in front of you. your eyes followed your father’s gaze as he spotted a moose – careless yet standing tall. it hadn’t noticed him yet.

you couldn’t react as your father hunched down and aimed the gun. you wanted to yell, to alert the moose of danger, but you knew that your father would ignore you for days. he always gave you the silent treatment when he was upset at you, and you were not willing to deal with that when you were already to be stuck with him for two weeks.

you jumped, startled, as a loud gunshot rung through the forest. it felt like an invisible force, freezing everything in its tracks. you felt your body waver as you almost fell over by the shock. time stood still as the moose stood before suddenly collapsing, blood pooling out of its neck. your father took your hand in his, walking cautiously towards the animal.

something didn’t feel right to you; the ringing in your ears didn’t stop and your body felt like static – as if you weren’t where you were meant to be. “look at that,” your father said, bending down to rub the pelt of the deceased animal. your hands began to tremble. he slowly turned to look at you, his face contorting into an unsettlingly large toothy smile. anxiety welled up in your chest, and you felt as though you had to run, but your feet were glued to the ground. your eyes met the lifeless ones of the moose, the storm within your chest bashing against your ribcage.

“(y/n)”, a feminine voice rang out, “(y/n), wake up!”

you perked up at the sound, and before you could do anything else, the moose’s eyes met your own. and then, the decaying thing opened its mouth, screaming your name.

“(y/n)!”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you gasped, opening your eyes wide. they darted around wildly, trying to understand their surroundings. your back contorted as you felt pain shoot up your ribs and wrist. shauna and jackie were crouched above you, worry etched on their faces. “oh, thank fuck you’re okay,” jackie whispered as shauna’s gaze softened. shauna murmured something about finding other survivors before she walked away, tearing her curious brown doe-eyes away from you. pulling you up with one swift motion, jackie leaned most of your weight against her. “c’mon, (y/n), you’re bleeding.”

as much as you avoided misty, you were thankful for the pick-me-up as she wrapped the deep wound that spread down your lower arm. jackie stayed with you, watching shauna interact with the other yellowjackets. it didn’t take incredible perception skills to understand that she was avoiding you, and jackie didn’t understand why.

“did you hurt her or something?”, she had asked when the two of you went to gather firewood. your shoulders stiffened.

“i don’t think so. i mean, I don’t remember much of the night but the last thing i would want to do is make her unhappy.”

“hm,” jackie tapped her chin, looking distantly at nothing in particular, “she’s never been one to hide her feelings, this is new.”

you felt yourself cringe at jackie’s lack of awareness. all shauna ever did is hide her feelings – you could tell by the way she looked at her friend. it was like there were words that she wanted to speak, thoughts that she wanted to express, but couldn’t because her throat was clogged with hesitation. but you – you would help her unclog those words. you wanted to understand what you had done wrong, and you wanted her to express herself to you. you just wanted her to be okay; you wanted whatever you had to be fine.

as days passed, you tried to talk to shauna on multiple occasions. she almost always brushed you off. she really had no interest in talking to you.  your first attempt was stomped down as soon as it began; when you were all hiking towards the cabin, you fell into step with shauna.

“did you have fun swimming? you were smiling so much!”, you innocently quipped as she wordlessly acknowledged you with a glance. the world felt heavy around you, as if the gravity were stronger than usual. your limbs felt weak as shauna nodded before walking ahead of you. sighing, you raked a hand through your wet hair, frustration threatening your rational thinking.

once the gang of you had situated yourself in the creaky building, you all split off to look for food to last the night. you stared at a bush of red berries, contemplating whether they were edible or not. oh well, you decided, it would be better to pick them just in case. suddenly, an unfamiliar dizziness rang through your head and your limbs began to shake as you slowed down. the voices of your friends were drowned out by an eerie silence, and before the weakness could overcome you, you felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around you.

your eyes met the enthralling brown ones of shauna shipman again, and she murmured a “be careful” before letting go of you. you felt butterflies in your stomach since that had been the most she’d spoken to you since the party. you walked and talked with a more joyful tempo until shauna shut it down.

“that’s not really anything to be happy about,” she told you, as you sat across from her shuffling a deck of cards. your eyes drooped downwards towards the table, your chest deflating a little, “maybe you should try to move on.”

and so, you did. avoiding shauna was a little too easy. every night, you would sit away from her. you stopped saying “good morning” to her, you stopped looking longingly at her, and you started sleeping upstairs with taissa and van. shauna noticed this, and as the days passed, her irritation towards small things began to grow.

over time, tensions in the cabin became more prominent, and you found it quite overwhelming on top of the shauna thing. you had difficulties sleeping because your mind was so far away, and so, this is how you ended up sitting on the balcony outside the house at only-god-knows what time in the morning. you were tired; so so exhausted with everything. earlier on, you had to break up an argument with lottie and nat, and both had treated you with harshness, releasing their frustrations on you. you understood that they were just stressed over the situation, but that didn’t mean that it was fine.

the moon shone above you like a spotlight – as if you were the main character in a performance delivering a monologue, but there was no audience. it was just you and the wilderness in this moment, and sometimes, you swore you could hear voices in the breezes of the wind and the rustling of the trees.  

you closed your eyes, sighing deeply. your lids threatened to close indefinitely, the shackles of sleep tugging at your exhausted limbs, but your brain was more alive than it had been this entire day. you just needed to digest the frustration – the fear of being alone in the forest with a group of girls who were slowly succumbing to the same insanity as you. you just wanted things to be how they were; you just wanted things to be okay.

“what are you doing awake at this time?”

you yelped as you heard a gravelly voice behind you, slumber evident in every syllable. slowly turning your head, you met the confused gaze of shauna shipman. your body tightened in on itself as she reluctantly stepped closer to you. finally, after what felt like an hour-long staring match, you pat the space next to you on the decking, and the brunette placed herself down, pulling her knees to her chest.

“it’s relaxing, isn’t it?”, you eventually murmured, looking ahead. shauna didn’t reply for a moment, and you felt yourself deflate. “shauna, what happened to us? why do you avoid me?”

she became angsty, picking at her cuticles as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, and you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she would answer, but you didn’t have the energy; not anymore. shauna plagued your mind far too often; she was somebody that you wanted to – no – needed to impress, somebody whose smile mattered the most to you, yet to her, you felt like nothing; like an afterthought.

“right”, you finally said after a few seconds of tense silence. you belatedly stood up to leave, but before you could turn towards the door, you felt shauna grab your sleeve.

“wait,” she practically begged, motioning towards the space you had previously inhabited. you exhaled deeply, looking into her intense eyes. though it was nearly pitch-black outside, her brown orbs still shone with an unspoken guilt. you cautiously came down to rest next to her once again. a shiver crawled up your spine as you blew hot air onto your hands. “look”, shauna began, struggling to find the words to say. her voice was caught in her throat, as if it didn’t want to come out, but she seemed to force it out. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. what happened that night – it was a mistake. i don’t think i like women but with you it’s different. like, i want to be like you; or i want to be with you, i’m not too sure. all i know is that i feel all warm and fluttery when i’m around you.” her words were rough and shaky as she articulated her thoughts, stuttering every now and then, “i know it’s wrong of me to like you that way, and i’m sorry, but i can’t help it. i avoided you because i didn’t want to feel these things for you because i’m sure you don’t feel that way about me, and it’s just too much for me right now – it’s too much for everybody. i’m sorry, (y/n), and i understand if you think i’m a freak.”

you watched her face curl from sadness into regret as you didn’t answer for what felt like eternity. you simply blinked, repeating what she said in your mind like a broken record. your hands began to tremble slightly as you reached up to cup her cheek with a coarse palm. “shauna,” you smiled, snapping her out of her panicked state, “i didn’t regret that night. i like you, and i have for ages.” her eyes seemed glossy, and you felt a familiar burning in the back of your throat as you blinked back tears. “it’s not wrong for you to feel this way, people are just born like that and there’s nothing to be done about it, but you can’t just shove it down or else you’ll always feel like an impostor in your own body.”

shauna began to smile gently as she leaned into your touch. you continued, “we don’t have to talk about it more right now but just let me in, please. i want to be able to support you and be there for you until we’re out of this hellhole. no more keeping me out, please, okay?”

the brunette in front of you nodded gently, and your cheeks grew warm at how cute she looked in that moment; her hair framed her face perfectly and she looked vulnerable as her eyes studied you. you dropped your hand, noticing a slight tinge of disappointment wash over her features before she shifted into a more stoic expression. but no matter what face shauna pulled, she always resembled a fawn. you wanted to protect her, no matter what. it was like she could do no wrong, as evident by how fast you had already forgiven her for the emotional turmoil she put you through.

and for once, shauna shipman let you in after months of trudging through the wilderness.

since that night, things began to go more smoothly within the cabin. you were the main mediator of all the girls, and with the resolved tensions between yourself and shauna, your thinking became clearer, and you were more efficient at keeping the peace. the small community you had formed within the four walls developed into a more tight-knit family dynamic, and even the ever-so-pessimistic travis had begun to laugh at some of van’s jokes that she would tell during dinnertime. you started to notice a definitive hierarchy forming between the girls, with lottie and nat being the most important. though unspoken between the girls, you found that you inherited a lot of power due to your people skills and advice giving, and with this newfound power came more freedom.

in a way, you abused your position to be able to relax with shauna; you two would sit and talk about things and have a bit of fun amiss the chaos of the barren wilderness. oftentimes, you would take walks to clear your heads or go to the lake to watch the nature thrive around you. you had noticed how systematic the ecosystem was, with birds hunting fish and deer trotting along to drink on the riverbank. it reminded you of the yellowjackets as everything fit in place due to the respective rules of each animal.

these small moments with shauna made you fall for her harder, though you had tried to resist it. she was just such a calm, grounding person and in a way, she felt like your other half. her sarcastic quips were also appreciated as they helped lighten you up during particularly stressful moments.

you never ended up discussing what happened further with shauna since that faithful night; you had both agreed that you didn’t want to or particularly need to deal with romance, though you still pined for her in the shadows. and, a small part of you hoped that she pined for you too.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader

[pigeonpeach]

Shenhe vs Xiao

A/n: original got lost so i had to rewrite it. Its a bit rushed because i have school tomorrow and there’s alot of complications with it so once that’s sorted out I’ll be able to do more longer posts

Gender neutral reader

Unlike the others so far they’re on good terms with each other. Shenhe isn’t competitive and neither is Xiao really. What they both want is you yes but they also want to keep your clumsy ass safe. You happen to be a bit slow in the head which means you get into trouble easily and frequently find yourself injecting or hurt in some way. So its rare you aren’t at Bubu Pharmacy or in bed recovering. Because of this their protective instincts are often on overdrive. Shenhe accompanies you almost everywhere like a bodyguard while you teach her about social etiquette. You aren’t clumsy, just a bit stupid and not always the brightest. Running into doors, walls, posts, etc.

if you even mention Xiao or something similar to his name will he teleport to you. Xiao is like a cat almost. He’s distant but loving in his own unique way. You once caught him sleeping next to your bed in Bubu Pharmacy. Apparently he exhausted himself by teleporting you there, you were sure to treat him to some almond tofu even if you hardly remembered the ordeal before. He will bring you what he believes to be delicious food but for the Adepti its hardly human-appetizing. Its more likely than not just tasty plants. Xiao however isn’t very touchy. Don’t even surprise him with physical touch. He gets startled and may react with force out of impulse. Rather it takes a long time and patience to wean him into a more accepting and comfortable one. He actually is a bit torn himself on his feelings. He himself actually thinks Shenhe would be a better choice. You’re both human, you’re both mortal. She isn’t cured like he is. She won’t have to outlive you. He knows the best thing is to leave you to her, she will certainly treat you well but he still loves you too much to fully give up. He will not force you to choose him, rather keeping the option open. More than anything, he wants you safe and happy.

Shenhe unlike Xiao is more willing to go beyond normal etiquette. If you hold her hand she just looks at you expecting a explanation. But like Xiao you will have to walk her through relationship ettique or proper courtship. Otherwise she’ll go with Cloud Retainer’s traditional methods which often are leave various gifts at your door. Its sweet at first! Pretty flowers and stones, but then she finds out you like meat and there’s now a whole ass bird just lifeless at your doorstep. You had to correct this. But she still brought a boar larger than you knew boar could be one time. You struggled to prepare the meat so most went to neighbors or nearby kitties with big appetites. You had to specify which was a more appropriate offering to her. Shenhe loves also like a cat but unlike Xiao she’s more flexible. She doesn’t initiate contact herself, but if you hug her she won’t shy away. Instead responding with a hug herself.

In the end you will have to initiate most steps as you’re dealing with two types of cat personalities here. But i mean maybe you could have both?

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #shenhe x you #shenhe x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x reader #gender neutral reader #wlw vs mlw series

[klbwriting]

Surface Tension

Chapter 10 - Somewhere Only We Know

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some violence

Summary: Orm comes to terms with his past, and Y/N puts the plan into action

Notes: almost done! Just a couple more chapters! I want to thank everyone who has read, liked, commented, etc on this work. Its hard writing anything and it feels so nice when someone says they like it, so thank you! song is 'Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane

Taglist: @hyperagitatedcydonian13 @gabrieleskywalker @philiasoul @duchcess

This could be the end of everything So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Orm was standing on the beach, watching something floating towards the shore. His heart sank as it got closer. It was a body, Y/N’s body. He moved, picking her up and carrying her up to her chair on her porch, setting her down.

“Y/N?” he said, shaking her gently. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him.

“Why did you do this?” she asked. Orm frowned. “Why didn’t you save me?” She closed her eyes, and he knew she was gone.

“I tried…I tried…I tried,” he repeated, falling into her lap as he sobbed.

“Orm, wake up!” Atlanna said, shaking her boy. He woke, sitting up from the bed he had in the lighthouse. He was pale, stomach turning. Aria was standing in a corner, eyes fixed on him. “It was a nightmare.” His mother held his face, leaning her forehead to his like she did when he was child.

“I can’t save her. I can’t do anything,” he whispered. Atlanna shook her head. “Mother, is this what it felt like? When you had to leave here? Everything feels like its ending.”

“Yes, that’s what it felt like to leave Tom and Arthur…but that’s also what it felt like when I was forced to leave you,” she said. Orm looked at her. He knew her banishment to trench was forced by his father, but he always figured she hated being in Atlantis anyway, hated his father, hated him, so death might have been a relief. He never imagined leaving him had hurt her like this. He took a breath.

“Did you talk to her?” he asked her. She nodded.

“She told me to tell you she would see you again, but not just on Halloween?” she said, not sure still what Y/N had meant. Orm smiled. She planned on coming back to him alive and well. Her confidence made him feel better. “I’m glad you know what she meant.”

“What are you doing about actually freeing her?” Aria asked from her post by the window. “Or are you just leaving her there to stew for awhile?” Atlanna frowned and looked at the girl.

“Why would we leave her?” she asked. Aria swallowed. “I know that in the past the royal family have not treated those they deemed below them well, but Arthur is not that kind of king, he is a better king.”

“Ya, that bar was really low…” Orm said to himself.

“Be that as it may, we have put in the evidence that she was not involved with the assassination, and that it was Hendrix looking alone. We should not only be able to clear her name but the rest of the Atlantis for All members that are currently in prison still waiting punishment. And you Aria, will also be cleared,” the queen explained. “There is one final piece we need. Y/N is going to talk to Hendrix and get him to confess.”

“Why would he even talk to her?” Aria asked.

“He will have to, she is going to be put to death and her last request will be to speak to Hendrix,” Atlanna explained. Orm’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean she’s going to be put to death?” he demanded, the dream coming back to him. Her body, cold, lifeless, him just standing by as she passed on.

“It is the only way to force Hendrix to speak with her. He must answer her last request. Her death sentence is not official, but he doesn’t know that. We are going to record him. She says she learned from Aria how to get him to say things he shouldn’t,” Atlanna explained further. Aria smiled, proud of her friend. She looked up, hearing AJ crying from his room. “I will be back, don’t worry my son, you will see her again.”

Aria watched her leave the room before looking at Orm. She was trying to figure him out. He wasn’t like she expected, how was this guy, a crying mess at the thought of a single woman being in danger, the same man who had killed hundreds just a few years ago without batting an eye?

“You can say it you know,” Orm whispered. “You can say it should be me, that I’m a coward and I should be going back to Atlantis, demanding her freedom in exchange for my head. I don’t deserve her; I don’t deserve to be free after what I did.”

“I have thought that many times since she was taken, but that’s not what I was thinking now,” she said. She moved to sit next to him, playing with her rings. “I was thinking that she saved my husband on the day of that tidal wave. She used her power, exposing herself to possibly any Atlantian that could have been around, someone who could have reported her, but she saved him because she knew I loved him. And now she’s in love with you, the person who caused all that pain. I was thinking, I should be watching you hurt with joy but I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because she loves you, and she’s happy with you. You haven’t redeemed yourself for your crimes but you’re starting and that is important,” she said. “She will be back with you soon and you better spend the rest of your life showing her that you can be better than you were.”

“Don’t worry, I’m never going to be less than she deserves,” he said. Atlanna came rushing into the room.

“Hendrix is gone. Aria, go back to the house, see if he goes there, I’ll find him in the water,” she instructed. They were gone and Orm had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Hendrix arrived at Y/N’s cell, ready to grant her last request. He had no idea why she would ask for him, but he couldn’t refuse. He was ready, the letters and the video made him look bad and he had started planning his escape as soon as he left the king’s office. He was going to break Arthur by killing his family, before returning to the throne room with Orm’s body, proving the king was a liar and hid the tyrant. Then Hendrix would be king, and things would change.

Y/N was humming to herself when he arrived. Poseidon’s blood, he hated her obsession with music. She sounded terrible and she didn’t care. How could she not care?

“What did you want terrorist?” he asked, standing before her. She stood and looked at him.

“Is this what you wanted? The death of anyone who would actually stand up for the rights of the lower city?” she asked. He rolled his eyes.

“You are such an idiot, no one cares about you, this is about me. You are just a pawn in this game, a sacrifice to be made. Once you are dead I will find Aria now that I know she’s alive and…” he stopped talking. This wasn’t right. She looked smug, like she knew something he didn’t. She was trying to trap him. He stormed forward, hands padding over her clothes. She cried out in surprise, but he found what he was looking for, strapped to her back.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he ripped the recorder from her skin. She cried out in pain, and then again when he hit her with it. Her cheek started bleeding and he smirked.

“You think you are so clever, trying to trick me into saying something I shouldn’t” he taunted. “I am not an idiot Y/N.”

“You’re not as smart as you think Hendrix. Everyone can see what you’re doing. You are sloppy, you’ve always been sloppy. Mailing letters to people without checking who is receiving it? Not disguising your pulsar enough so I didn’t see it before you killed the king? Now even, you openly show your hatred for the king, rumors spread that you actually tried to poison Orm several times when he was ruling. You are an insignificant little person who thinks he deserves to be king…” she stopped when he hit her with he recorder again. She was knocked to the floor, staring up at his enraged face.

“I AM GOING TO BE KING!” he screamed. “My plan to kill Orm was perfect. I got you to tell me the parade route using sweet words, because you have always been craving someone to be a good daddy for you…and maybe I would have done that if you had let me kill that bastard. None of you knew because I was so good at hiding it! And poisoning Orm? Would have been simple if he wasn’t so paranoid of his stupid brother coming to usurp him. Then Arthur…what a joke. He thinks his family is safe in that lighthouse? Just wait until you’re dead, then I’ll kill them all and I WILL BE KING.” He stormed out the door and Y/N smiled as she called the guard.

Arthur took the holodisk and went to the council. The confession was enough to get the guard out to arrest Hendrix on not only one count of treason but several. Y/N was released and taken to Arthur’s office where a doctor cleaned up and bandaged her cuts.

“I can go home now,” she said. Arthur nodded. Guards came running into the office.

“He’s gone, Hendrix escaped,” one said. Arthur moved to get his armor on to search for him, sending word to the queen about the escape. Y/N paled. The lighthouse. Hendrix knew about the lighthouse. She took off herself, hoping she was in time to warn them.

#orm marius #king orm #ormmarius #orm marius x reader #king orm x reader #kingorm #ormmariusxreader #kingormxreader #ormseries3

[niki-phoria]

Hey!, may i request Chishiya x Militant reader? Who finds some fun in the games, ands is pretty apathetic towards death but finds it somewhat exciting? Sorry if that doesn't make sense lol, it doesn't really matter to me if its an established relation ship or not, but gn!reader if you can! thank you so much, your posts are always amazing!

the return of the eyeliner cat looking chishiya gif sklens

pairing: chishiya x militant!gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 1.3k

warnings: slightly ooc chishiya, i tried to make this canon compliant but honestly this was so chaotic i don't really remember how this part went lmao, canon typical violence, blood, light descriptions of reader giving chishiya stitches, i feel like i write every confession the same lmao

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i'm kinda running out of games to write about lol i didn't set this at the beach so it's kind of implied that reader was a militant (mention of a subordinate, reader has a gun and knows how to shoot) i hope that's okay i tried to make reader apathetic about death and excited about the games but i'm not sure how well it comes across. it means so much that you enjoy my writing <33 i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

the pavement is hot against your hand when you sit down next to kuina. a heavy silence still hangs in the air, the anticipation of what will happen next nearly suffocating. chishiya paces around, hands stuffed in his pockets. he stops in front of you, sighing. “maybe they forgot to press the start button.” 

“i hope not,” you lean back on your hands, squinting up at the sky. “this is getting boring.” 

“boring is better than death games,” kuina retorts. 

“i’m just saying, this is a little anticlimactic.” 

kuina’s response is cut off by the approaching sound of an engine. “might’ve spoken too soon,” chishiya murmurs as a group of cars arrives at the shibuya crossing. 

a man steps out of the car. “y/n,” he calls. he’s followed by a woman leaving the passenger’s side. “what’s going on?” 

chishiya raises an eyebrow, glancing down at you. “you know him?” 

“he’s one of my subordinates.” you brush the dirt off of your hands as you stand up. “we’re not sure yet.” 

slowly, the rest of the people leave their cars. they’re members of the beach, nervously glancing at your group and each other. 

a woman begins walking closer to you when a loud crack rings through the empty city. you nearly flinch when her lifeless body falls to the ground in front of you. blood pools around her. 

you aren’t given enough time to fully react when another noise echoes, this time a man collapsing. a low rumble emits from somewhere above you. you can barely hear usagi gasp, pointing up at the sky. “is that a fucking berg?” 

kuina’s comment would’ve made you laugh in any other situation. a gray airship floats through the city. a giant king of spades flag waves underneath it. you can see a few others in the distance, each carrying their own flag with a different face card. 

“run!” someone yells. people continue falling to the ground. cutoff screams and loud whips of gunshots spur you to move faster. you duck behind a wall in between kuina and chishiya, peeking over the edge. arisu and usagi lean over the side, watching as the panicked crowd continues running. 

“is this exciting enough for you?” chishiya asks. 

you roll your eyes. “let’s split up!” arisu yells over the gunfire. 

after a few shared nods, arisu takes runs off to the left. usagi is the next to leave, followed closely by kuina and chishiya. you duck behind the abandoned cars, desperate for a place to hide. a bullet grazes your arm, through you pay it no mind, forcing yourself to keep moving. 

you all but throw yourself against the side of a car, panting. kuina is quick to join you, ducking behind the metal. “are you okay?” she asks. you brush a hand against your still-bleeding arm, shaking your head. 

“i’m fine. where are the others?” 

“i saw arisu and usagi earlier but i’m not sure about chishiya.” you swallow your fear, peeking behind the car to see who’s shooting. 

the king of spades is almost impossible to see. he’s a man dressed in thick black clothing - almost like a cloak. his hood is pulled far over his head to cover his face. he fires mercilessly at any movement. 

kuina flinches when chishiya joins you behind the car, pressing his body against the side. he shifts so his back is against the metal, catching his breath. “ah, you scared me,” kuina huffs. 

“he’s not gonna stop anytime soon,” chishiya says, reaching into his pocket to grab two soda cans. “here.” he hands one to kuina and passes one to you. it feels heavy in your hand. 

“is this a bomb?” chishiya nods. 

two people slam against the side of the car across from you. arisu and usagi. they lay a dying man down on the ground. chishiya raises a hand to wave at them. you shove the bomb into your pocket where your gun used to be. 

a car skirts to a stop in front of you, the door swinging open. “get in!” tatta yells. 

“go!” you urge. arisu and usagi clamber into the backseat, quickly followed by kuina. a spray of gunshots hit the back bumper of the car. you lean over the hood of the car you’re hiding behind, shooting at the king. he’s quick to return fire, breaking the window of the car. 

the shooting stops for a second, allowing you to return fire. the king throws a grenade towards the car tatta’s driving. you steady yourself with a shaky breath, aiming for the king’s head. 

your shot misses, hitting his shoulder instead. the man winces, giving you enough time to move to a different area for cover. tatta’s car screeches when he begins driving again, swerving through the streets. you watch as the king looks around before running towards another car, jumping onto the back of it. 

you wait until you can’t hear gunshots anymore before running towards the pile of debris where you last saw chishiya. he grunts when you push a piece of concrete off of his body. blood has started seeping into his jacket, staining the fabric. you hold a hand out for him to grab, helping him up. “are you okay?” 

chishiya coughs. “besides almost being blown up? i’m doing fine.” 

you shove his arm over your shoulders, wrapping your own around his waist. “come on.” 

chishiya limps along with you until you find a building to hide in - an old convenience store. you help him sit down in a corner before searching for a first aid kit. you frantically look through the cabinets, desperate for anything that will help. finally, in the back of a cupboard underneath the clerk’s desk, you find one. a small metal tin filled with bandages, alcohol pads, needles, and thread. 

you rush back to chishiya’s side, kneeling down beside him. you push the fabric of his jacket out of the way, exposing the gash on his abdomen. “you know how to give stitches?” he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“no, but anything is better than nothing, right?” 

chishiya forces himself to sit up higher, grabbing your wrist. “i’ll teach you.” 

you nervously look up at him. something about him soothes your worries, even with a single look. “okay.” you will your hands to stop shaking as you prepare the needle. you start slowly, gently tugging the thread through the skin. 

after the first few stitches you get the hang of it, confidently sewing the wound closed. “i saw you shoot the king,” chishiya rasps, eyes still focused on your hands. “why did you save me?”

“because i love you.” the words leave your mouth before you realize what you’re saying. regret builds in your stomach, cutting off your air supply. it suffocates you, preventing you from speaking again. you don’t dare to look up at him. the tension feels heavy in the air as you focus on chishiya’s wound. you finish quicker than expected. your relief is tainted by the uncomfortable realization that you’ll have to talk about your confession. “do i just tie it off and cut the rest of the thread?” 

“yeah.” you brace yourself for rejection, wrapping the wound with bandages. “y/n,” chishiya whispers as he reaches out to lift your chin. you remain silent, even as he moves his hand along your jawline to cup your cheek. even as he brushes his thumb against the skin. even as he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours. even when he whispers, “i love you too.” even when he hesitantly leans in to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, hand still resting on your face. even when you pull him back in, unable to hide your smile. especially when chishiya smiles back at you and coaxes you closer so you’re leaning against his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist.

#chishiya x reader #aib x reader #aib fluff #chishiya fluff #chishiya x male reader #aib x male reader #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya drabble #chishiya scenario #chishiya one shot #chishiya imagine #aib imagine #aib one shot #aib scenario #aib drabble #aib x you #aib x y/n #alice in borderland x male reader #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland reaction

[doodle-pops]

Tears of the Sun

Maedhros x reader

A/N: Since this came in 2nd on the poll, you all can have the treat you've been voting for. You all have no idea how long I've been dying to release this :) 🙈

Warnings: 3rd Kinslaying, death, blood, heavy angst, hurt and not an ounce of comfort (the bucket is dry), major character death

Words: 1.6k

Synopsis: We always regret the things we do when the worst happens, and Maedhros finally seems to have enough.

His body moved with less grace and more aggression, leaving behind a trail of victims struck down by his ruthless blade. The horror and grief in the eyes of each lifeless body meant nothing to him; they were just obstacles on his path to his ambition. Their deaths only fuelled his determination, pushing him further up the hill and past the point of no return. His once–pristine armour was now stained with splatters of crimson, matching the colour of his hair and sword. His usually well–kept hair was matted and frizzed from the chaos of the battle, and his helmet lay discarded in the heat of the mindless fight. None of his opponents were formidable enough to engage him in a true battle of skill; they were merely obstacles to be obliterated.

He found himself growing bored with the resistance he encountered. He had come for his treasured heirloom, and the stubborn defence he faced only made him scoff. He swung his sword recklessly, striking down anyone who dared to challenge him. If kindness couldn’t win him what he desired, he would take it by force. The last shreds of sanity that had held his emotionally compromised heart together had shattered, leaving him with no option but to resort to raiding and plundering. Blood was his familiar companion—it was what he had come to know intimately, the colour of his hair and the blade he wielded. The hand he had been dealt in the losing game of life resembled his sword’s hue: crimson.

Existence was his only reality, a reality driven by the notion that death wasn’t yet ready to claim him. He existed because he couldn’t die, and death toyed with his life as though it were a mere game of chess. One moment he was a pawn, the next a bishop, then a king, and back to a pawn. It was a cruel dance of fate, and he had long accepted his role as its unwilling participant. In this twisted game, he found a perverse pleasure in taking what he believed was his by-right, regardless of the consequences.

But you changed everything. You brought light into his world, giving meaning to the bleak and dreary existence he had grown accustomed to. A smile, a look from you, and his heart would soar, mending itself and allowing him to experience the simple joys he had been denied. With you, the cage he had felt trapped in was shattered, and he no longer felt like an animal awaiting its inevitable demise. You gave him purpose, a reason to believe in something greater than the cycle of violence and death he had become ensnared in.

A scoff escaped him as he remembered your influence on him. He wiped away the blood that had trickled down his brow, the metallic scent of iron filling his nostrils. The smell was familiar, a reminder of countless battles and massacres he had orchestrated. Despite the carnage around him, this was a relatively minor raid, akin to dealing with a few dozen orcs. Most of his men had switched sides to prevent further destruction, but those who had stood against him now lay lifeless, their bodies strewn across the ground. The balance between valuing his soldiers’ lives and discarding their lifeless forms after insubordination was a precarious one, and in his current state of mind, the line was blurred beyond recognition.

He continued his macabre dance, his temper a raging fire that consumed everything in its path. Lifeless bodies, once vibrant with vitality, now littered the streets. The urge to be repulsed by the sight was a fleeting burden; he was too consumed by his frustration at his failure to reclaim the Silmaril.

“Háno!” A pained voice, his brother Maglor’s, reached his ears, and his heart clenched with dread. After coming this far, losing another of his kin—his last kin—would be the final blow, shattering what little remained of his fractured soul.

He rushed forward, his steps heedless of the broken bodies that lay in his path. He cut through the streets of Sirion with a single–minded determination, following the urgency in his brother’s voice. What he found was a scene of sombre desolation. Maglor stood there, his sword hanging limply in his hand, his shoulders slumped, his legs wobbling, and his head bowed in defeat. A pit formed in the depths of his heart as he approached his brother’s broken form, his own anger momentarily forgotten.

And then he saw you, lifeless. Your body leaned against the wall of a nearby home, your form covered in your own blood. Your expression held a haunting mixture of pain and resignation.

He didn’t want to accept what he was seeing. It felt impossible, like a cruel illusion playing tricks on his senses. You were supposed to be safe, wrapped in comfort and far from the clutches of death and destruction. This had to be the work of darkness, a sinister fabrication that twisted reality into something nightmarish. This couldn’t be you lying lifeless before his eyes; it had to be some twisted trick, a distorted reflection of his fears.

Convincing oneself of falsehood, even in the face of an unfathomable and horrifying sight, was a coping mechanism that allowed one to shut their eyes and turn away. He chanted to himself repeatedly that what he saw couldn’t be true—it couldn’t be you lying there lifeless at the cost of his hands. His footsteps, once soundless, turned into thunderous beats as he rushed toward where you were slumped against the wall. The scene before him was surreal, and he desperately needed some kind of proof that what he was seeing wasn’t real. His trembling fingers inched closer to touch your form, seeking that moment of realization that would tell him the world had deceived him.

His eyes were narrowed in disbelief, his brows furrowed, lips pursed, and fingers trembling as he gingerly reached out. His boots made contact with your foot, and he half–expected to hear your familiar ‘Ouch’ in response, a playful reaction you often had to his touch. But there was no response, no movement from you. Your eyes were cast downwards, avoiding his gaze, avoiding him. He knew that after your last bitter exchange, you wouldn’t want to look at him. He understood that. Yet, the sight of blood staining your clothes and your lack of breath sent a spike of panic through him.

He blinked back tears that threatened to spill, his teeth gritted, nostrils flaring. Slowly, cautiously, he extended his hand to touch your head. He crouched over your lifeless form, keeping a respectful distance as if he feared that even in death, he was intruding on your personal space. His hand made contact with your head, and when you remained unresponsive, he slid his hand lower to cup your face, lifting it to meet his gaze. But your head lolled limply in his hold, and the puppet–like motion of your head sent waves of terror through him. A cold heat engulfed his body, sending shivers down his spine.

The motion of your head was unnaturally limp, like that of a puppet with its strings cut. His hand quivered as it cradled your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Y/N?” he called, his voice cracking with anxiety. The silence that followed was deafening, and suffocating, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Háno, they’re dead—” Maglor’s words were met with a feral growl that erupted from the depths of Maedhros’s chest. He snapped his head in Maglor’s direction, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and desperation. A mere glare and a low, menacing command silenced his brother’s words.

Sinking to his knees, he carefully gathered your lifeless form into his lap, cradling you close. He adjusted your position, holding you as you liked to be held, your head resting against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. His mutilated hand cradled you, his fingers gently caressing your skin. He rocked you back and forth, murmuring soothing words in a broken symphony of promises that he knew he might never be able to fulfil.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he whispered, his voice a fragile melody of reassurance. He pressed rough kisses to the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’ve got you now, I’m here. I’m going to keep you safe when you wake up.”

The juxtaposition between the past and the present hit him like a wave of sorrow. He remembered the times he had pushed you away, the harsh words he had spoken, and the pain he had caused. And now, here he was, holding you tightly, his heart breaking with the weight of his regrets.

“This will be over soon,” he promised, his voice laden with emotion. “You’ll be safe and happy. I promised you that, didn’t I? I’ll keep my word, my love.” He continued to sway with your lifeless body, refusing to acknowledge his brother’s pleas for him to accept the reality.

He whispered to you over and over, his tears mingling with the blood and sweat on his face. The saltiness of his tears against his wounds was a numbing sensation, a reminder that he was still capable of feeling something amidst the darkness. He was hollow, consumed by the curse of his actions, bound to live with the consequences of his choices—he took your life with words. A simple command and you fell innocent to his sword.

The cycle of violence and suffering that he had perpetuated had led him to this point, where he held the lifeless body of the person he loved more than anything. He had pushed away his chance at happiness, his heartless actions sealing his fate.

In his arms, he clung to you, the only source of light in his life, hoping against hope that this was just a nightmare, that you would awaken, and that the blood on your skin was nothing more than an illusion. But deep down, he knew that he was living the nightmare he had created, unable to escape the prison of his own making.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind

If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link.

#maedhros x reader #maedhros angst #maedhros imagine #maedhros scenario #maedhros and tears #maedhros #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion fic #silmarillion scenario #silmarillion angst #middle earth imagine #middle earth x reader #middle earth fic #middle earth angst #nelyafinwe #maitimo #russandol #house of feanor #feanorians #sons of feanor #angst with no happy ending #angst with a sad ending #angst with no comfort #hurt/no comfort #bring your tissues #x reader insert #tw: major character death #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

when one leaves, another arrives

pairing: neteyam x female omatikaya!reader, lo’ak x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 11.8K (she’s a big one)

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, r being emotionally messed up, lo’ak and r share a moment. should be it!

summary: when you lose someone close to you, you close yourself off from everyone else. except for one person.

A/N: i wrote this when i haven’t even seen the movie, only edits and clips on tt, so forgive me (i have now seen the movie by the time i’ve posted the fic). ITS FANFICTION LET ME WRITE WHAT I PLEASE!!! also neteyam and lo’ak are probably a bit ooc, but you know we only saw hints of their character in this movie, IM TAKING CREATIVE LIBERTY. also pretty much movie ages for our characters, r is same age as neteyam.

thank you to my lovely friend @alecmores​ for being my proof reader as always and leaving funny comments for me to giggle about. also if any na’vi is misspelled blame pandora wikifandom and the online na’vi dictionary.

reblogs are appropriated💗

been sitting in the drafts since feb25

masterlist

Numb

That’s all you felt, your whole body numb to the touch. Felt like you were floating, skin no longer touching the ground, only the stiff breeze that would ghost through you. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing at this moment.

Eclipse 

It taunted you as your eyes stared at the heavens above. Cold, wet tears streamed down your dull blue cheeks, while another dull blue face stared lifelessly at the darkened sky. Lifeless eyes that used to hold so much love and admiration within his glowing golden eyes.

Shaking

Your body was shaking, hands unable to stop the tremors that reached your fingertips. Lips quivering as you tried to hold back the scream that wanted to rip from your throat, the whimpers of pain that built up in your chest, and were just waiting for the scale to completely tip before you crumble.

The waves were crashing loudly against your boulder, it almost felt like they were shaking your rocky asylum. There were only four bodies stationed on the jagged stone along with a burning fire in the near distance. Everything felt like a realistic nightmare, something your mind conjured to tear you away from the sugary sweet dreams that you would slip into. But this wasn’t a nightmare or dream, this was reality. Something you constantly had to remind yourself before your brain could trick you into ignorance.

There was a ringing in your downturned ears that soon started to pick up choked sobs that flicked your ears at attention. You looked away from the darkened sky and down at your three companions.

Neteyam. Once alive and full of energy, gentle touches, and commanding tones were all left behind and just a corpse with his head laying on your lap was left behind. One hand cradled his cheek, wishing to feel movement or heat while the other brushed his braids, something you always did when he rested his head on your lap. You wished to see his easy smile one more time, just for a moment, you needed the image fresh in your brain.

Tsireya was the one quietly crying, her hands holding onto Neteyam’s legs. You wanted to comfort the girl, this is probably the first time she’s had to feel the pain of losing a close relationship, the Metkayina clan not forced to see the horror of war every day for the past few years. She was a sweet girl, a caring soul, she didn’t deserve to witness this pain.

Lo’ak was the last one of your group. He was staring toward the burning and drowning ship, you weren’t sure why, but taking note that Jake and Neytiri were missing, along with Spider, Kiri, and Tuk not around; the only answer you could think of was the ship. He dropped to his knees, eyes staring down at his dark red palms, palms covered in Neteyam’s blood as he tried to save him. He took another look at the ship before facing you and Tsireya.

“I- I have to- I have to help them.” Lo’ak took stuttering breaths.

You saw Tsireya shake her head, barely heard the pleas for Lo’ak to stay on the rock with the thre- with the two of you. But you knew Lo’ak, you knew that even if his dad told him to stay, he would follow him to the ends of Pandora, just like Neteyam did with him.

He knelt in front of the shaking girl, a hand coming up to hold her cheek for a second before he walked to you. Both hands rested at the side of your head, his fingers seeping into your braids with his extra finger touching your jaw.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” Neteyam used to tell you that all the time when he was allowed a position in the raids.

Lo’ak pulled your head forward and his lips met your forehead, and they were held there for almost a minute before he pulled away and jumped off the rock and into the crashing waves. Leaving behind two shaking and emotionally wrecked girls that held onto a corpse of a friend and loved one.

“He’ll be back,” you choked out to Tsireya, “they’ll all be back.” Reassuring the both of you, needing just that tiny bit of hope to stay above the dangerous waves. Your hand continued its comforting motion of pushing Neteyam’s braids from his face.

-

Pandora forest

Your feet jumped from branch to branch, the ground below leaving behind a trail of bioluminescent spots before they disappeared. Light chuckles floated from your parted lips and into the open air, the breeze able to carry the sound further out. The nightlife of the forest filled your ears, something you’ll never get used to, in a good way.

You slowed down after having ran and leaped for a while, needing a minute to take in your surroundings. Your chest moved up and down pretty fast with your mouth panting for air, and fists landing on your hips to rest. Your ears flicked at each little noise, but you were trying to find the specific sound you wanted to hear, nose twitching in the air for the right scent combo.

A twig snapped and you knew already you found him. You crouched down, body low to the bark as you followed the direction the noise came from, not wanting to spook your target. You jumped to a branch below yours and surveyed the surrounding flora. You grabbed your bow and nocked an arrow in the string and waited with bated breath for any new signs. Another twig snapped, the opposite direction you just came from, you were on high alert now.

You counted in your head, to keep your heart steady and to count when the next noise might occur. It wasn’t until twenty did another sound appear, this one much closer now. You thought you were ahead in the game but looked like you just lost so you put away your arrow and sat on the soft moss, waiting for the boy.

Lost in your thoughts, staring ahead into the open air, the feeling of two hands landing on your shoulders almost made you jump and that would end up resulting in your possible death due to gravity.

“I win.” A high-pitched voice spoke into your ear.

“Neteyam!” You twisted to look at his boyish grin, “don’t sneak up on me! I’ve told you multiple times!”

He just laughed at your raised voice and moved to sit beside you, thighs touching and fingers just an inch away from touching. You wanted to make a move but were too scared so you stayed content with your slim fingers ghosting near the other.

It was well past the eclipse and both you and Neteyam knew you shouldn’t be running around in the forest at night, but it was always so peaceful and sometimes the only time either of you could be alone together without parents or siblings hovering or clan duties getting in the way.

The two of you could just get lost in nature and each other and it was the most magical thing you got to experience.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” You voiced to the silence.

It took a minute before he responded, “nervous, but yes. I’m excited.” His pinky tapped yours.

Tomorrow a couple of young hunters would complete their iknimaya and finally earn their ikrans and then later that night they would go through uniltaron, the dream hunt. You originally were going to join Neteyam in the rites of passage, but you felt you weren’t prepared enough, so you decided to wait a bit longer. At first, you were embarrassed to tell Neteyam that you were going to take longer, but he reassured you that it was completely fine and that he was proud of you with either decision you made. It made your heart grow with love.

“Should probably head back. Long day ahead of you.” You stood from your seated position and threw your bow over your shoulders, waiting for Neteyam to follow your actions.

You looked down when you noticed he was still seated and to your shock he was already looking up at you, an easy smile adoring his stunning features. He did look like his mother, a stunning woman with a strong will and a loyal heart.

“What?” You whispered the question.

He gave a light shake of his head, his smile never fading, “nothing. Just… just appreciating.” And he grabbed his bow and stood up, eyes level with each other. Both standing at around six feet and a few inches, neither hitting your growth spurt yet. You don’t know how you’ll feel when Neteyam is taller than you one day, even if it's just by an inch or two.

The two of you stood face to face, no one talking, only watching. Eyes danced over the other's features, memorizing every stripe and every glowing dot gracing their blue skin. If you could freeze time, you would do it at this moment, not wanting to leave the quiet night. You so badly wanted to reach up and caress Neteyam’s cheek but held yourself.

Instead, you cleared your throat and broke eye contact, “race you home?” And the smile he flashed gave you your answer and you took off without a warning.

Giggles and shrieks of joy followed you two home all the way, music to your ears.

-

You were still numb, your ears were still ringing, and your stomach grumbled but you wouldn’t touch a single fruit. It still didn’t feel real, none of this felt real. The battle was over, the injured were being tended to, and families were reuniting with tears and hugs. But your family, your family was grieving and preparing for a funeral that none of you thought would come for many moons in the future.

You just sit in a corner with your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, your head resting atop the joints, staring into the void. You haven’t moved from the tiny spot since you all came back to your pod, Jake and Neytiri leaving with Neteyam’s body to bring to Ronal and have him prepared for his final living goodbye. Kiri and Tuk were huddled together in another area of the pod, Tuk sitting in her lap with Kiri stroking her hair and whispering soft words. Lo’ak sat outside with his feet in the water. He probably wished Tsireya was with him but she was pulled away by her family to help with preparations. You wanted to be there for him, someone needed to be there for him, he thought Neteyam’s death was his doing when it wasn’t; it was the sky people’s war that did it.

You finally found that bit of strength to move, Lo’ak needed someone at this moment and you knew Neteyam would want his brother to know that he loved him. With cracked joints you finally moved from your spot, arms wrapped around your waist for a phantom comfort and you walked slowly towards Lo’aks’ hunched figure. Your feet stop just a few steps away from him, just watching how his back muscles moved with his breathing, how his head would move slightly when he would focus on something else.

You didn’t say anything as you sat next to him. He didn’t say anything as his eyes took notice of your appearance. No one said anything, just two sets of golden eyes staring out at the dimming sky that was slowly dipping into the endless ocean.

You took the first step, one arm reaching out to gently touch the bicep close to you and then you slowly glided the hand down his arm until your palm fell atop his knuckles. Your four fingers settled in the open space between his five digits, a light squeeze was all you gave, but still no words.

“I’m sor-“ “It’s not your fault. None of it.” You immediately stopped him.

Silence once again.

Hands still touching.

Waves playfully pushing and pulling.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, Lo’aks falling atop yours after a second. Then you moved your hand off his and threw it around his waist with your other following, wanting to give him warm physical comfort. Knowing a hug was something he needed at this moment, to feel grounded, to feel loved, to feel seen.

An abrupt cough makes your head turn over your shoulders. Jake and Neytiri stood in the opening, both their faces littered with cuts and stitches, eyes darker and dull. You pulled away from Lo’ak and stood from your spot, walking over to the two taller na’vi.

“We must prepare.” Was all Neytiri said before holding her hand out.

- 

High camp

The air was thick with tension, everyone on high alert for the day, no, not just the day. Everyone has been on alert for the past two years.

The sky people have brought war back to Pandora, back to the Omitikaya people and your home. The demons bring fire to burn the trees and flora, to bring extinction to the animals that roam freely. Their metal weapons are much stronger than your bows, and many people die or are injured each day during a raid or battle.

Jake Sully is very high-strung, he’s quick to snap at someone out of line, and even more angered when the people he’s yelling at are his children. Neteyam and Lo’ak stand with their tails between their legs and heads tilted down, Neteyam receiving the harsher words that struck his heart.

You would watch from afar, hands rubbing your banshee in comforting motions as your heart broke at the pain written across their faces. You just waited, waited until Neteyam was dismissed by his father and he would head immediately to find you and distract you with his pretty smile.

“How is palï?” His own hands stroked down the side of her neck, soft purrs heard from her throat. You chuckled, “happy now that you are here.” Just like you were happier he was now with you.

Your smile dropped just a bit when you remembered a few minutes ago, “is everything…is everything okay?” His hand slowed then stopped before dropping to his side, eyes facing away from you.

“Just Lo’ak doing dumb shit again and me getting my head ripped off for not keeping a close eye on him.” “Hmm.”

Men and Women were moving to and fro in the caved holding. Some were slow with their heads bent down as they conversed with the person beside them, or warriors carried their bows with their heads held high as they rushed past everyone. People were going in and out of Mo’at’s tent, many exiting with wrappings covering wounds they gained during the war effort. You could hear the faint sounds of ikrans screeching in the distance mixed with the gleeful giggles of na’vi children.

“Would you like to go somewhere quiet?” You abruptly asked.

Neteyam’s ears twitched at your question, eyes widening just a bit but then softening with a tiny curve of his lips. A meek nod was all you needed before you wrapped a hand around his wrist and pulled him behind you and further into the cool mountain. It was a small area further back, the shadows helping in keeping the carved-out piece a secret to one who isn’t curious, but you were one curious cat.

Since your parent's passing, you would travel through high camp in silence, a ghost among the living just trying to survive by yourself. You lived with the Sully’s since they were like a second family to you, but being around them, seeing the love they have for each other and how much they care about everyone’s well-being, it just twisted your heart. So at night when everyone was asleep and the camp was quiet, you would sneak out and roam around, just needing to be alone and wallow in pain and you needed to find a place within the camp where you could step into the shadows and disappear just for a few hours. And you found it.

With Neteyam still being pulled behind by you when you abruptly stopped, his chest ran into your back making the both of you stumble for a moment. Light giggles escaped without thought before you reluctantly let your grip slide from his skin, but you didn’t get far before Neteyam reached out on his own and intertwined your hands together.

You felt warm all over at the simple action.

“Ma ‘teyam, I’ve- I’ve been missing you. As of late.” You dipped your head down, flustered at the sudden words leaving your mouth. It wasn’t a declaration of love, though it was in your ears.

“I’ve been missing you too, ma tanhì (my star)” Almost a whisper to the winds was his reply, but a whisper that blew near your ear making it twitch at the caressing touch.

Involuntarily your eyelids fluttered closed and a breathy sigh left your chest. The silence only grew in tension when a finger was hooked under your chin and pushed your face up, eyes focusing in on the speckles of glowing dots dancing along Neteyam’s face and body. Your own personal sky of stars to gaze upon.

“(Y/n), there’s something I’ve been wanting to confess to you for some time now. But it seems you gave me the perfect opportunity, and I will try to say the words before they evade my mind.” His thumb swiped over your chin, along with a swift feeling of him touching your bottom lip before it was gone too soon.  All you could do was tilt your head with your eyes firmly set on Neteyam’s, waiting intently to hear what’s been on his mind for this long.

He licked his lips, eyes moving side to side, “as you know it’s been a while since I’ve become one of the People.” Another simple nodding of your head, “I as well.”

“Yes. And we both have fashioned our bows out the branches of the home tree, both of us mighty warriors and aiding our clan in a time of crisis-” “Neteyam I’m well aware of these events. I’m living through them, along with them added to my songcord.” A mindless giggle showed your delight in this scene.

Neteyam gave a huff, “yes, yes. Now if you’ll allow me to speak before I lose my small ounce of bravery-” “Yes, sorry. Continue… sorry.”

A hand still twinged with yours and his thumb ran over the back of your hand, “Since we’ve become one of the People, and crafted our bows, the only thing left is to… is to find a mate.” You sucked in a breath.

He wanted to find a mate.

You understood, courting could take months and usually you’re not officially mated before Eywa until you are a full-fledged adult, so there was still plenty of time for the both of you. But hearing that he’s thinking of someone who he wants to court,  hurts like a knife being twisted between your ribs.

“Have… have you,” you had to swallow past the thump in your throat, “have you already chosen. The one you wish to begin courting?” You needed to step away from Neteyam’s intoxicating self.

You tried stepping away discreetly, but before you were even two steps away Neteyam pulled you right back in, even closer than before. Toe to toe, chest to chest, your whole body so close to touching but only an inch of air separated your bodies from molding together. The hold he had on your hand didn’t loosen, only held tighter, like he was scared you could run away at any moment. During this discussion, you wished to vanish into the forest and not come back until sunrise.

“I have. I’ve had my eye on her for years, long before my rites of passage. She’s very special to me, someone who’s been by my side through many of my hardships, lifting me back up to the light from the darkness I was walking towards.” His eyes stayed on your linked hand, “she is beloved by my family, each one of them having a special relationship with her already, so I don’t have to worry about them turning her away,” he breathed a laugh. “She is a fine warrior, her skills growing each day, and might even surpass my sa’nok (mother) one day.”

Neteyam took the final step. Hands squished between your bodies, your chest touching, and every breath you took caused your top to brush against Neteyam’s chest and move it out of place just a hair. Your breaths mingled with your lips in front of each other, it took every last bit of strength within you to keep your eyes trained on his face rather than his tempting lips.

“Neteyam-” “I hope you are understanding what I’m trying to say.”

Your will broke and your eyes dropped before meeting his eyes again, “I think it best if you say it aloud. I’m a bit thick in the head.” A comment Neteyam has made to you before.

He wetted his lips, “(Y/n), ma tanhì (my star), would you allow me the honor of courting you, to eventually in the near future, become my mate for life?” He almost vibrated with energy, nervousness or anticipation, or even both was your conclusion.

“Neteyam, ma atan (my light), I would cherish nothing more and it would be a pleasure to become your mate.”

-

The air felt still, thick that you almost suffocated from a simple intake of air. The water felt still, even though you rode on the back of your ilu, ripples following the creature. It felt like everyone was holding their breath, worried that even the most simple release of air would cause something further to shift in the world. But nothing worse could happen, not in your mind, your worst nightmare came true and you still can’t process it.

Jake and Neytiri were at the front of your group with Tuk seated behind her mother, Lo’ak and Kiri with Spider behind followed up the rear and you were at the very back. Everyone was painted with white stripes down their face, Neytiri fashioned with a woven headpiece and the necklace Neteyam wore when he died. A hand went to your neck, another intricate woven piece of jewelry that Neteyam would wear, it also happened to be the one he wore the night he asked to court you.

The tears dripped down your face, you didn’t make an effort to wipe them away, they would just keep coming.

Many of the Metkayina stood in the shallow waters of the Cove of Ancestors, further away from your family. You saw the familiar faces near the front, the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahík, both of them stood tall and held themselves high. You saw the tear-stained faces of Tsireya and Ao’nung along with Roxo just off to the side of the leaders.

The ilu tugging Neteyam’s leaf finally stopped at its designated spot, silently telling all of you that this was the end. Jake, Neytiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak slid off their creatures and into the water, treading themselves on each side of his body, his mother and sister on the left with his father and brother to the right. You so badly wanted to join them, wanted to touch the boy you loved so badly one final time before his body was taken away from the physical plane. But you stayed back, you weren’t his mate, you were just the girl he was courting, his girlfriend- something that Jake said was between the stages of friend and mate; you were just a friend that left their home behind for a boy that stole your heart and made you a part of a loving and protective family.

So it was just you, Kiri- who you thought should have joined the others but didn’t push her into it, and Spider who watched his blood-related family give their final caresses to his skin. The kisses to his forehead by Neytiri, the fingers reaching out to his for the hand that rested atop his shoulder then a feather-light touch to his cheek by Tuk, the hand that patted down Neteyam’s tied back braids by Lo’ak- something Neteyam used to always do on the younger boy, and Jake. Jake, who still seemed in shock, that he didn’t make for a comforting gesture.

Once Neteyam was free of the giant palm leaf, Tuk and Lo’ak moved further back to where the three of you stayed. Jake and Neytiri shared a look before taking their breath and diving under the water with Neteyam between them.

You slid off the ilu saddle and floated on the right side of Lo’ak, Tuk as always was beside Kiri if it wasn’t her mother. With the water stinging your eyes just a bit, you watched as Jake and Neytiri swam down, down, down until they were just above the glowing anemone and they released their hold on their boy. They kept themselves afloat while his body succumbed to gravity or the pull toward the Great Mother, and once they touched his deep blue skin, he was covered in golden glowing light before his body was completely gone.

If you weren’t submerged under water you knew the tears would be running at the speed of a waterfall, your nose clogging with snot, and your throat choking up causing hiccups and stuttering to your breath. With a glance to your left, the sight before you broke you even further. Lo’ak, with his left hand, held out for his brother to take, was choking out sobs that were silenced by the water, only the air bubbles leaving his open mouth told you of his cries to the Great Mother. 

Swiftly you reached out and linked your hands together, he needed someone to ground him from slipping away and you just needed to feel living flesh.

-

You couldn’t sleep, sleep had been avoiding you for weeks since your arrival to Awa'atlu, always tossing and turning on your mat. Eventually, you started to leave the mauri when the darkness would slip away through your fingers, finding yourself either sitting on the roped walkway with your feet swaying in the water or you would venture towards the sandy beaches and stare out into the open water.

You weren’t sure when he noticed your absence, but one night when you walked to the beach, you heard footsteps that were muffled by the grains on the floor and the push and pull of the water. Your heart rate picked up, you didn’t have any weapons on your person, and you chose to leave your knife with the others. But your panic died down when you saw the noise coming from someone who wouldn’t lay a harmful finger on you, but for sure would punch someone just looking at you wrong.

“Ma ‘teyam.” You all but sighed as he got closer.

He instantly pulled you into his arms, one arm around your waist and the other pushing your head into the crook of his neck. Your limbs wrapping tightly along his waist, your hearts beating as one, chest to chest. Fingers started to run through the free strands of your black hair, tiny circles by the pads of his digits.

“What is wrong ma tanhì?” He murmured by your pinned back ear.

You huffed a sigh, unintentionally tickling his skin, “sleep escapes me. No dreams enter my mind, only darkness and even that leaves me to my thoughts.”

He hummed, hands continuing their rhythmic motions, giving your bodies a light sway with the wind. Then he just stopped, hands landing on your biceps giving a light push away. His eyes held so much love within his tender gaze, “why don’t we go for a swim? We could star gaze, we haven't done it for a while.” And an instant smile split your face.

The two of you floated on your backs in the middle of the water, the water safe within the mauri pods. The quiet night was the only thing surrounding the both of you, the water was still with only a few ripples here and there causing a push to your bodies. Your backs floated atop the darkened water, hands clasped together to keep from drifting apart, braids and loose strands snaking around your heads as two sets of golden yellow eyes focused on the glowing stars above.

-

One Year Later

The memory vanished into the air from your mind, and the last thing you felt was your heart growing warm at the sight of Neteyam’s breathtaking smile before he pulled the both of you into the cool water.

Your legs were hugged to your chest with your thin arms wrapped around them tight, your chin digging into your kneecaps while your eyes stared out into the open water. You thought about going in, either to look at the stars as if he was floating beside you or to drown yourself and join him with the Great Mother. You knew the latter would win more in this situation, so you kept yourself grounded and forced your mind to go blank, the lull in the water helps.

You shifted a hand through the sand beside you, the texture feeling nice on your skin. Eventually, you got bored, but you didn’t want to head back, so you just laid down and let the scratchy grains cling to your skin and burrow into your hair. You turned on your side, back facing the homes with you facing the swaying trees, but you let your imagination run.

You pretended that you were lying beside Neteyam, both facing each other with only an inch of separate space. A hand from both of you resting in the middle, fingers doing a mindless dance of touching and curling, bringing smiles to your faces. You would move closer, your hand that lay on the ground would make contact with his stomach, and his muscles would flex automatically with the graze. Neteyam would move his head closer, a quick bump of your nose, giggles spilling from your lips. He would throw an arm over your waist, knuckles gliding along your back, and you would lift your hand from the ground, let your palm rest upon his plump cheek, and thumb would stroke the stripes decorating his skin. And you would clear the final milometer of air, lips a breath away, you would look into his piercing eyes and with all the bravery you could muster, would whisper the words only meant for his ears.

“Neteyam… ma ‘teyam… I see-”

“(Y/n)?”

Your hand dropped from the air and sunk into the cool sand, you didn’t even bother to turn and face the approaching voice, you already knew who it was. It was always you and one other person who would leave the home for hours and wallow in pain.

You felt his body heat, skin just barely flicking over yours. You felt his eyes on you, you knew they would drip with pity and pain for you, and you didn’t want it. You were a mighty warrior, you withstood your cuts and bruises and persevered in the battle, even your mental ones.

“(Y/n)... I’m here- I-” “Lo’ak. Stop.” You closed your eyes, the tears making a comeback. You still kept your back to Lo’ak, not finding the mighty warrior in yourself to withstand this battle, instead shrinking away from the fight.

He didn’t say anything again, you didn’t say anything again, and the silence enveloped the bubble. With the sound of shuffling you thought he got up and headed back to sleep, probably knowing how guarded you are these days, but he didn’t leave he walked around you and laid beside you.

With the past year, you’ve closed yourself off, built a stone wall high to the heavens, and wrapped around the world. Only allowing small slips into the cracks, sea shell collecting with Tuk, enjoying the flora and fauna with Kiri, weaving baskets and jewelry with Neytiri in the mauri, and you’ll do whatever you can find with Jake. With Lo’ak, there was something that pulled the both of you a tiny bit closer. Be it the Great Mother, grief, Neteyam, or all of it together, you and Lo’ak always found each other in times of comfort.

You peeked your eyes open, Lo’ak watching your every breath, an arm pillowing his head with the other hand in the open space. It felt weird that he was in the same position you imagined Neteyam, but you didn’t think anything of it.

“(Y/n), I miss him. I miss my big brother.” Lo’ak’s voice was small, cracking on the words him and brother.

You didn’t speak, something you often did these days, you just linked your sandy hands together. You gave a squeeze knowing it would silently say to him, ‘I miss him too’.

Before…everything, you were a pretty touchy person. At least when you were super close and comfortable around the individual. And because you were comfortable around the Sullys you would express your love through all forms, touch sometimes being the easiest with the quick access. But after- after he was gone, you reclined into yourself, like you were waining off the feeling of na’vi skin. But Lo’ak was someone you felt naturally drawn to just touch, and it made you hurt because you always felt that way about Neteyam. Sometimes you didn’t want to be separated for even a second, needing to have a finger touching or your tail grazing by his legs.

You were worrying a bit that Lo’ak might be taking your intimate moments, your touches as something they weren’t. You loved Lo’ak, but only as a brother. Neteyam always filled the spaces in your heart. Friend, partner, ‘girlfriend’… future mate, your future husband. No one could fill those holes, they’ll always be empty until you die.

“Have you visited?”

You blinked your eyes, focusing back on the present. Lo’ak was just watching you, waiting for some type of response to his question. You heard him, faintly, but still heard. 

You didn’t say anything, the quiet your nonverbal answer.

“I haven’t either,” his thumb ran over your knuckles, “I’m too scared.”

“Why scared?” A hushed whisper.

He shrugged, “might argue with me or something. Tell me it’s my fault, which is t-“

“False. Sky people are at fault.” A constant reminder from you to him.

Silence once again. Talking always takes too much energy for you.

“Would you be willing to visit him, together?” Lo’aks’s question drifted into the air. 

“When we are ready, we will go. Together.”

-

Two Years Later

“I would like to visit Payakan.”

Lo’ak sat up from his lying position and looked down at you, his head blocking the blinding sun rays. You just peered up at him, face completely neutral.

“W-why?” His feathered brows furrowed, “it’s not safe.”

You cocked your head, striped brow raised, “never stopped you before.” A ghost of a smile mixed with some teasing.

Lo’ak scuffed and rolled his eyes at the remark, but you saw the smile. He looked at the open water for a moment before looking back at you. You could see the tiny gears turning in his head, probably weighing some pros and cons to your proposal.

He stood up and held a hand out, his answer to your request.

With a firm grasp, you let him pull you to your feet, his growing muscles pulling you against the gravity causing a light crash with your chests meeting. His free arm wrapped tight around your back to keep you from stumbling, it caused your breath to stutter and get caught in your throat before you cleared it.

“Lead the way, mighty warrior.” A quirk of your head caused Lo’ak to move, arm off your waist but the hand still held in yours.

He called his ilu with a yelp and grabbed the saddle. You didn’t bother calling yours, you still weren’t the best at riding even after living here for two years. Neteyam usually helped with your teaching and would have you ride with him when going out. You didn’t bother with learning further, not wanting to explore without him.

“(Y/n),” Lo’ak grabbed your bicep, “come on.”

He slid on the saddle with you just behind. His left hand holding the bar tight before looking over his shoulder and tapping your thigh with his right hand, “hold on tight. Breathe deep.” And he went under.

The crystal clear water past the reef felt like a whole new world. Almost nothing for the eye to see except for a few rocks that broke the surface, but other than that everything was below the surface.

“Where’s Payakan?” You whispered in his ear, it twitched against your nose.

“Uh, should be around here. Sometimes he finds me before I do.” His head looked side to side, trying to find the giant tulkun in the vast ocean.

You wrapped your arms around Lo’ak’s abdomen and leaned your head between his shoulder blades. Your ear could faintly hear this heart beating as he touched your forearm with his fingers, his heart speeding up just a bit.

“Is Payakan friendly?” Voice slightly muffled.

“Yeah. As long as you don’t provoke him or offend him. But he’s my spirit brother, he’ll accept you happily.”

“The sea gives and the sea takes.” Words you heard from Tsireya during lessons.

Your heart lurched at the phrase. Lo’ak lost Neteyam to the rocky seas with a fire burning in the distance but gained a Metkayina spirit brother in the calm and clear seas. Eywa must keep a balance of life, but this wasn’t a balance.

“Oh! (Y/n), look!” He eagerly tapped your arm and pointed to the horizon.

In the blink of an eye, a tulkun appears before the both of you, its eyes watching intently. It made some noises of communication, out of happiness or a threat, you couldn’t tell. But Lo’ak happily slid from the saddle and swam beside his eye and gave a very open hug to the creature. Its eyes closed and hummed a higher pitch, happy.

“(Y/n), come.” Lo’ak held a hand out for you.

You quickly joined the two, Lo’ak’s hand moving to place yours along the tough skin of the animal. A smile was pulled at your lips, you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t think too hard about it. You felt extremely happy for the first time in two years and you’ll absorb the feeling into your bones.

“Payakan, this is (Y/n). She’s part of my family.”

“Hello. Lo’ak speaks very highly of you. I’m grateful for the opportunity to meet you.” Your hand moved in soothing circles.

Another higher-pitched hum, “he likes you.”

Your attention away from Payakan focused on Lo’ak. He sat on the floating fin, hips and lower half submerged in the water with his torso and up dry. He held a delicate smile on his lips, small indents on either side. His eyes which were already focused on you looked gentle, his lids dropped just a bit, and his golden irises held a tiny spark.

It caused a shiver to run along your spine.

-

Three Years Later

Your lower half sat in the shallow waters of the beach. Water pushing and pulling, lapping at your body giving a gravitational pull, a pull that you resisted each time. Your hands would dance atop the surface, palms skimming the pleasant texture and fingers doing quick taps that cause a tiny plop.

You watched with fondness as Kiri lay on her stomach with her body submerged below the clear waters. One arm kept her upper body from dropping into the sand while the other ran through the still grains. Something so simple and she was mesmerized, you loved it.

With a turn of your head, you noticed two figures further down the beach, one teal and the other blue. Tsireya and Lo’ak. They were sitting beside each other, you couldn’t tell much about their conversation, neither giving off blatant expressions. They seemed to be making jewelry or carving, maybe both, each doing their own thing while just wanting to enjoy the other's company.

They looked happy, at peace. You felt glad for them.

“They make a good couple.” Kiri’s sudden voice causes you to jump a bit. You just nodded, “they do. Maybe they’ll mate when older. He’s been into her since we arrived.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

Everyone is tired and wishing for rest, hoping they grant uturu to your family. Neteyam and you automatically stand beside each other, fingers grazing as you walk to the formed crowd. With your curious eyes, you try and take in everything around you, from the people to the village, and it amazed you. And then with the perfect timing, you noticed a girl slipping into the water before making her way to the shores, and you heard a slight gasp. With a slight turn of your head, you noticed how Lo’ak couldn’t take his eyes off her, he was instantly fixated on the beauty.

You bumped your hand against Neteyam’s calling for his attention.

“It seems your brother has found a potential mate,” a quick chuckle, “if they allow.” Was all Neteyam followed up with.

“(Y/n), did you hear me?” Kiri’s fingers dug into your ribs.

You shifted away from a potential second attack, “no. Sorry, a memory came to mind.”

You ignored the eye roll she gave, “I said, but it seems like Lo’ak might have affection for someone new.”

A furrow came to your brows, “where are you hearing this? Do you not see the way he acts around Tsireya? He acts like a skxawng about… ninety percent of the time, and that’s just now. It used to be a bit higher.”

She licked her lips and her eyes dipped to the ground before meeting yours, “there’s something different…in the way, he looks at- his eyes hold something when he gazes upon you.” You couldn’t believe the words leaving Kiri’s mouth, “his eyes hold something when he gazes upon you.” She was wrong, simply wrong.

“You are wrong.” You shook your head at her absurdity, “Lo’ak doesn’t see me as anything other than another sister.”

She huffed, “(Y/n), I don’t know if you ever knew this, but when Lo’ak was younger he would tell me how he admired you. You probably thought nothing of it, but he would try to follow you around like a lost direhorse. I noticed the tiny scowls that came upon his face when Neteyam would steal away your attention. Plus he’s the only one you’re physically affectionate with besides-“

“I’m affectionate with all of you. Neteyam was extra special in my heart, he was my promised mate.” You started to get defensive.

She placed a hand on your shoulder, “yes, I understand. I just notice how the two of you hold each other in the night, Lo’ak holds you firmly to his chest with his arm over your waist and you will have your face tucked under his jaw.”

Your ears twitched, “I’m just trying to say, be careful. The both of you. Someone is gonna get hurt, and we’re just starting to heal our wounds.” Were her last wise words before standing up and walking away.

-

Three Years and Five Months Later

“I want to go to the cove and see Neteyam.”

You turned your head to the side, and bits of sand scratched your skin. Lo’ak kept his eyes on the sky, hands clasped over his stomach. You looked away when he didn’t meet your gaze.

“You are ready?”

“Not really, but I need to see him again.” It seemed like he had more to say so you waited, “are you ready?”

This time you knew he looked at you, the movement caused your ears to twitch at attention.

“No. But his face has started to blur and I lost the sound of his voice, his laugh. I miss it all, so it must be time.” You pushed off the ground and hunched over your legs.

His hand touched your back and you flinched before relaxing. Kiri’s words from a few months ago echoed in the back of your head. “If you are not ready, we can wait. You said we would go together when the both of us are ready. I’ll wait for you.”

You peeked at Lo’ak, something about that last part struck a chord with you. You see how his brows were raised just a bit and pinched in the middle, eyes open and clear. Full of understanding and love.

You fear Kiri’s words are becoming true.

You licked your lips, “we’ll go to the cove.” And you instantly stood up and walked away, Lo’ak following a step behind.

The both of you trod water for a bit once you reached the spirit tree, fully realizing that you're finally gonna see Neteyam again after three years. With a look to Lo’ak and a nod from him, the both of you took a breath and dove under and down.

As you stared at a tendril you started to think maybe you weren’t ready to see him, but with your hand being tugged by Lo’ak, you pulled your queue from behind your back and let the moving tendrils be pulled closer until they connected with your mind.

..

You were back in the forest.

It was midday, and the bright sun held high in the clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The grass was a luscious green, soft beneath your bare and calloused feet. Helicoradian and Octoshroom stood at their tall heights, you hit a few helicoradian causing them to shrink in on themselves which brings a laugh of joy out of you.

You walk to the stream where you and Neteyam would usually hang out during the day when both of you were free to escape. As you get closer the sound of the rushing water causes your heart to speed up just a bit, you’ve missed that sound for a while without even knowing.

When you entered the clearing, pushing a few low hanging leaves away from your face, your breath caught in your throat and you almost tripped over an unseen root. Head popping away from the rushing water and in your direction, Neteyam.

He hasn’t aged a day, which, obviously. But it just causes you to freak out a bit, you’ve grown three years, would he see you as past you or present you?

But focusing back on the boy you’ve missed so much. His usual head of braids, feathers, and beads were missing, just a curtain of dark black strands falling over his face and shoulders, it must have been a washing day. He’s also free of a necklace and armband, you notice his knife and bow are near the banks.

“(Y/n), come join me!” His voice made your chest rumble. Has it always been this deep?

“No tricks?” You stepped closer.

“No tricks,” he echoed back.

“Are you naked?” Hands at your hips.

He rolled his eyes, “obviously. Will you hurry up?”

“Nìhoet (perv), turn around first, skxawng.”

“We are to be mated, I’m allowed to see.”

“Not for a while, ‘evengan (boy). Turn.”

He put his hands up in surrender and turned, his toned back showing off his defined stripes. Quickly you stripped yourself of your feathered top and loincloth and rushed into the water with a splash.

You swam up to Neteyam who turned around at your disruption to the quiet. You kept your body under the water with just your head peeking free, your hair a halo behind you.

“I’ve missed you, oeyä sayrìp (my handsome).” A hand touched his cheek before pushing the free hair away. Needing to see all of him.

A hand fell atop the one resting on his cheek with his free one sitting along your jaw, thumb gliding with your stripes as his other three fingers dug into the root of your hair.

“I’m right here, oeyä sevin (my pretty).”

You teared up at that. He says he’s right there, but he’s not. You can’t touch him or converse with him whenever you choose to, you have to make the journey to the spirit tree now just to see figments of memories you had with him. And it seems he doesn’t even know he’s dead, so you can’t tell him these qualms you have.

“Ma tanhì, what hurts you?” Both hands hold your face, caged in his clasp.

You hold his wrist and close your eyes, the tears leaking from your waterline and down your cheek. You feel him wipe them away. You have to bite your lip to compose yourself.

His lips kiss your forehead, they linger and it breaks you even further. He pulled away and you said the words that have been lingering on your tongue.

“Ma Neteyam, Oel ngati kameie (i see you).”

He smiled, that easy smile you always loved seeing, “I know.” And he pulled you close with the hands still on your face, and pressed his lips against yours.

-

Your eyes peeled open.

All you saw was the bright light of the tree with your queue still attached before you pulled it free. You turned your head to the left where Lo’ak was floating, he still seemed to be connected, his eyes closed and hand still held firmly in yours. You bit the skin of your bottom lip and squeezed your eyes shut.

This was the reason you waited to visit because you knew that when you saw him again, it would break you like the first time. He didn’t get enough time with you, with his family, with himself. It wasn’t fair, this was the cruelest thing Eywa has ever done to you.

With a pull to your arm, your legs automatically began scissor kicking you back to the surface. You took a gulping breath when you broke the surface, droplets of water running into your eyes and on your mouth, and your ears almost felt clogged. You pushed your heavy limps back to the ilu, biceps straining with the sudden weight before flopping on the saddle, ready to leave.

“You okay?” Lo’ak asked as he saw beside the animal, left hand on the saddle while his right touched your knee.

You looked away before making eye contact, “just tired.” Both emotionally and physically.

Lo’ak watched you but didn’t say anything, he just climbed in front of you and told the animal to go home.

When you reached the shore you quickly climbed off and walked away, needing to be completely by yourself and allow yourself to wallow or break down or just stare at nothing. You just wanted to be alone. But of course, with Lo’ak, he’ll come chasing after you.

“(Y/n). Come on, we should head home.” And when his hand grasped your wrist, you exploded.

With a blind rage in your heart, you barred your fangs and released a hiss from deep within your chest. He let go of you and you stepped away before running into the trees. The instant regret took away a bit of the fire in your heart, you’ve never bared your fangs at any of the Sullys, even in playful moments.

As you walked through the small jungle area of the island you scrubbed your hands over your face, trying to erase any evidence of your tears. Cheeks flushed with your blood rushing and eyes touched with a red hue in the whites, chest heaving with hiccuping breaths and your ribs hurt with every few beats. Finally, your knees just gave out causing you to collapse to the floor, a deep growl building in your throat.

With a scream, you cried to the Great Mother, begging and pleading for Neteyam to come back. As exaggerated as it sounds, you needed Neteyam to breathe, to live. He unknowingly gave so much purpose to your life, you planned a future with him, you talked about children when you were ready. Pandora doesn’t have the same vibrant colors you use to see every waking day, it doesn’t hum with the high-pitched energy that you felt in your bones. Everything was dull and gray, the food tasted bitter on your tongue.

In your moment of heaving air and pleading to the air, arms snaked around your waist and pulled you in tight against a solid chest. You indulged for just a moment, pretending it was your beloved, but the voice snapped the trance.

“Just pretend,” he kept his voice low, “pretend you are in his arms. Say the words to free your heart.”

Your cries died off, your brows furrowed at his words. You tried to turn your eyes on him, but he removed a hand from your waist and draped them over your eyes, blocking out everything unimportant. You heard the water crashing, the wind brushing the leaves and grass, and your ears twitching with every breath that touched the sensitive skin. His skin was a warm comfort, chest pressing with every breath released, the pads of his fingers just a bit rough from time, the arm still holding your waist was a welcome weight.

“Talk to me, ma… ma txe’lan (my heart).” A nice pet name, but you heard the hesitance, and ignored it.

You touched his forearm, “ma ‘teyam… how I yearn for you day and night. Fruits aren’t as rich and juicy, the sky isn’t as bright and clear, and the children’s shrieks of joy aren’t as full in my heart. You were the air I breathed each second and now with you gone, I feel like I am suffocating. So right now I am angry at you. You had to be the fucking fkew tsamsyiu (mighty warrior)! I- I know how Kiri and Lo’ak- how they care for the human, Spider, but- you couldn’t be selfish or- or pull Lo’ak away. You couldn’t say no, he- Lo’ak, has such a soft spot in your txe’lan. And I know, I know already, I’ve told him plenty of times, it is not his fault. He just wanted his friend back, I understand. And- and I understand your actions, your family was in danger- our family was in danger,” you heaved a breath, “I- I am not angry with you, I’m angry with the sky people. They can’t leave us alone, touching and violating our home and destroying every beautiful gift Eywa has blessed us with. We should have been able to grow old… grow a lor (beautiful) family in the forest. We would teach them the way of the bow, grow them into fkew tsamsyius or zeykoyus (healers), and they would learn from Mo’at.” Your body slumped, and energy vanished.

Lo’ak felt the tears but didn’t speak, only kissed your temple. The kiss lingered and then another kiss near your ear, another to your cheek, a fourth one to your jaw that lead to a few more. You felt him turn your head, both hands touching your neck, you didn’t dare open your eyes, too lost in the spell to break it just yet. With your hands moving to take hold of his biceps, you felt the breath of air ghost your lips.

“Please,” you begged with your heart.

His lips pressed to yours hesitantly, waiting to see if you’ll push further or break away. You tilted your head just a bit, granting better room for your lips to properly move together. And within those few seconds of kissing, you knew. You knew that the spark that was usually there every time has disappeared, telling you that this wasn’t your Neteyam and that you couldn’t see Lo’ak in any other way than as a friend, a brother.

You pushed away, shame filling your blood. ‘You shouldn’t have done this’ ‘This wasn’t fair to Lo’ak’

“I am sorry. I- I shouldn’t have…” “(Y/n), would you mate with me?”

Your head snapped to Lo’ak, eyes wild with confusion at his sudden question. He looked serious, with no hint of mischief within his glowing eyes. His hands still held a firm hold on your neck, his fingers grazing your skin. His ears were pressed to his skull, awaiting some type of answer from you.

“I- I… why would you ask such a question? Whe- where is this coming from?”

He licked his lips, “Neteyam would want you happy. He would want you to have that family, to grow old with someone who cares for you as he did.”

‘No one could care for me as Neteyam did’

“It hurts to see you in pain and I would do everything in my power to take it away-” “You do not like or love me, Lo’ak. You are just confused, I have confused you.”

He shook his head, “no, no. I do, I do like you. I hold love for you that can grow with time-”

“Lo’ak! Stop this!” You wretched free of his hold, “mating is a serious affair. You should not be proposing this pairing just because I have lost my promised one. You say that you are doing this because Neteyam would want me happy, but what about you? Would this union bring love into your life every time you think about it? Because you are blinded by- by our- by my unintended intimacy. I have taken advantage of your comfort, I have twisted your thoughts. You do not love me. You do not see me.”

“Oel ngati kameie, (Y/n). I do,” Lo’ak tried to reach out to you.

You shrunk back, “do not throw those words around worthlessly!” Your arms wrapped over your stomach, “Lo’ak, I know that you had some type of- of feelings for me when we were younger. Kiri mentioned it to me. And with time I assumed they faded because when we arrived here you were instantly transfixed with Tsireya. I saw how your eyes followed her movements, your brows raising, the- the greeting you said to her that caused giggles to spill from her lips. I could feel that this was something more. And when our training started I saw how nervous she made you, how she said your heartbeat sped up every time she touched you, the both of you sharing dazzling smiles. Tsireya makes you happy, Lo’ak.”

A sigh left your lips, “do not throw your happiness away because of me.” Lo’ak tried to take a step towards you but you backed away, throwing a hand up, “I think it best if we are away from each other for a while. I- I need to heal properly and you need to rid yourself of these thoughts for me and focus on spending time with Tsireya again.”

-

Four Years Later

“Fkew Tuktirey! A glorious catch! The family will be proud.” You shifted her head of braids, her laughs filling the air.

The two of you trudged back to your mauri pod, Tuk holding the fish she was able to catch. She’s grown so much in four years, now age eleven and standing at shoulder height, it brought tears to your eyes, she was already starting to be confident and outgoing. Neteyam would be so proud of her.

As she ran ahead into the home you could faint voices having a conversation, voices talking loudly and over each other. You were worried someone was getting yelled at, but when you walked in it was a different scene than what you expected.

Near the entrance, Jake and Neytiri were seated on the ground, smiles brightening their faces in glee. And you noticed that two other bodies sat across from them, Tsireya and Lo’ak, their hands clasped beside their thighs. They all looked up at your and Tuk’s interruption to the home, but no smiles faltered at the intrusion.

“Sa’nu! (mom) Sempu! (dad) Look at the fish I caught with (Y/n)!” She hopped her way over to her parents. They both gasped and applauded her catch, Jake pulling her into his lap, pecking her face in quick kisses causing her to laugh. It was a joyful sight to behold.

“This will make for a wonderful dinner tonight. A celebration of two!” Neytiri boasted. You cocked your head, “what’s the other occasion?”

You took note of Jake and Neytiri sharing a look and Tsireya and Lo’ak doing the same, you and Tuk were the only two out of the loop. It wasn’t until Tsireya gave a simple nod that Lo’ak turned to you, “Tsireya and I are to be mated.” Tuk shrieked in delight before leaping to the couple for hugs.

“I always knew the two of you would come together,” a declaration heard by everyone but meant for Lo’ak. “You were always wise, (Y/n),” then suddenly Lo’ak did the gesture, hand to his forehead before dropping. I see you. The others might have thought it weird, but it meant a lot to you, Lo’ak finally understood you.

“Oh, Tsireya, I can’t wait for you to be an official family member!” Your arms are thrown over her shoulders. The two of you giggle with infectious joy and wiggle your bodies with buzzing energy. 

-

Four Years and Two Months Later

The waves crashed and cried, the thundering in your ears almost a welcomed melody at this point. The blazing sun of the late afternoon warmed your skin in a nice hug, and gentle kisses to your cerulean stripes.

Your back sunk into the grains of sand on the beach, the shade of a palm tree leaves bringing relief to your face. Your eyes were closed in peace with lips slightly parted to release puffs of air, hands clasped over your stomach as it rose and fell. With your hair free of braids and the wind blowing, your jet-black strands would tickle your chin or nose, a crinkle forming to stop an incoming sneeze.

Almost slipping into a calming slumber you missed the soft steps heading your way on the beach, the wind and water covering the tracks. It wasn’t until a crunching noise grew louder that you heard the sigh of someone beside you. So you peeled an eye open and in the corner you saw-

“Lo’ak. Did you need something?” You just closed your eye and waited for an answer from him. Body stays in its tranquil state.

He didn’t say anything, you only heard shuffling on his part. But you waited, letting him collect his thoughts since it’s been a while since the both of you have been alone together. It was nice to be around him again, but you knew it was for the best, for both of you.

There was a graze to your forearm and it made you tense up, the touch unwelcomed. You didn’t push him away, just turned your head and stared at the boy- the man before you. Your golden eyes squinted at his quiet demeanor, knees pulled up and head bowed with his braids falling over his shoulder and shielding his face.

“Lo’ak,” he jerked his hand away like you burned off fire, “why have you come here? It is best if we are away from each other.”

His head moved, “I’ve missed my old friend. Missed sitting in silence with you and just keeping each other company as we mourned for Neteyam. Missed having you join me when visiting Payakan, he misses you as well,” a quick laugh, “and I- I just missed being with you.”

You let the words sink in, digesting and absorbing every syllable and word. “I have missed you too, Lo’ak.” A simple confession. You saw the tiny smile on his face.

“Are you excited to be mated with Tsireya?” Wanting to have an easy conversation.

Lo’ak looked out into the clear waters, “yeah. I’m lucky she accepted me, flaws and all. She’s so perfect and gentle and sweet with everyone she meets, always having my heart squeeze with admiration for her. And she chooses me, reckless and carefree Lo’ak who’s always doing shit to get me into trouble or danger. The perfect girl chose the disappointment. It is almost like a dream.” His fingers twiddled, pulling at the joints or tapping fingers together.

“You are not a disappointment, Lo’ak.” A poke was sent to his thigh for his attention, “your family loves you very much. And, yes, some of the things they have said to you haven’t been the nicest, but they bubbled from a place in their heart from fear of losing you.”

He looked away, hands still fidgeting so you pulled the closest into your grasp as you continued speaking, “and you say you are lucky for Tsireya choosing you, but she is also the lucky one. She looks at you like you hung every star that sparkles in the night sky, you pull laughter from deep within her chest, her heart. She touches you with a fragile air, hands always clasped between your bodies or caressing your cheek as she gets lost in your eyes. I see all this from far away. And- and I envy the both of you.”

Lo’ak opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him still needing to speak your mind, “I am so happy that you are able to have this love in your life. You truly deserve the best Lo’ak and being with someone who makes your days brighter and heart lighter, Eywa has given you a great blessing.”

You saw his eyes gloss over with water forming and his tongue popping out to lick his lips. You said all that needed to be spoken, so now you let him understand your words and waited for anything to be said from his side. With his hand still in your hold you ran your thumb over his knuckles.

“(Y/n), I know these are probably the words you don’t wish to hear, but I too need to speak my mind as well.” His eyes bore into yours. You had a guess as to what he was going to say, but just nodded your head and let him speak.

“I did like you. When we were younger and I saw you in action for the first time, it was like Eywa crafted you with such care and precision. I was in awe, but Neteyam got to you first, so I kept a certain distance when it came to you. But when… when he died… I felt- I felt just a bit of hope that- that- I don’t even know now. But I do want to say… you were right. Us being separated helped clear me of confusing thoughts and feelings and allowed me to focus on the one who loved me right away.”

-

Four Years and Nine Months Later 

The beach was crowded. Every resident of Awa’atlu was present and dressed in their finest for the union of Tsireya and Lo’ak, the first pairing of different clans. Tonowari and Ronal along with Jake and Neytiri stood to the side of their children, and their siblings at the front of the crowd. You stood between Kiri and Tuk, a hand in both of yours.

You watched and listened as Ronal stepped forward, with her being tsahík she was the one to officiate the wedding, giving her blessings and wise words from Eywa. You saw the smiles pulling at the parents' mouths and the tears welling in their eyes, their children have grown up.

Tsireya with her hair intricately fashioned with beads and shells, her top that shimmered with pearls covering every inch of skin, but her smile and teary eyes were the most beautiful part of her. Her ever-expressive face showed that she was excited to spend the rest of her life with the man standing before her, ready to start a family with him in the future when they are further into adulthood. Excited to wake up every day to his face and arms wrapping her tight to his chest and falling asleep every night to the feel of his chest moving with every breathe and feel the light kisses he would place upon her hair or forehead before mumbling how he loves her and wishes her a good night.

With Lo’ak it looked like he was holding himself back from jumping into Tsireya and tugging her into a steering kiss. He wore a newly woven armband with a feather attached and an Omatikaya cummerbund, almost like his final goodbye to the forest before he gets his tattoos of the Metkayina warriors in due time. He held her hands tightly, thumbs constantly moving to show his nerves and excitement. His smile was ginormous, it was pushing his cheeks high and causing his eyes to squint, it was adorable. His tail was swinging side to side in a rapid movement and his ears were perked high, listening to every word being spoken by Ronal. His eyes shine with love, probably thinking of getting to kiss his mate whenever he wants, day and night nothing would stop him from a quick peck or a passionate melting of lips that caused hands to wander. He’ll enjoy all the loud and quiet moments in their home, just enjoying the other company as they do their own tasks. He’ll talk about his day over dinner and she listens with focused ears and watchful eyes.

The loud cheers of the crowd snapped you from your daydreaming, imagining you and Neteyam’s future.

Tsireya and Lo’ak share a kiss before the clan, their joining of queues and mating before Eywa would take place away from the eyes of others.

With a feast held in their name, everyone was in high spirits. The music was flowing and people were dancing, the food was cooked to perfection and in abundance, and the drinks splashed causing people to let loose. You clapped, cheered, and laughed with your new clan, your new home. Conversing with people your age and allowing yourself to make new friends.

When the eclipse was high in the sky you excused yourself from the festivities and walked to a secluded part of the beach.

As you lay on the beach with your hands behind your head and eyes staring up at the sky, you yearned for him once again. Yearned for his warmth and his touch, his voice and laugh. Yearned for the domestic life you envisioned yourself to have with him, imagining your children squealing and running amuck, but bringing endless light and joy to your lives, as he’d done to yours.

With almost five years passed since his departure, everyone has healed most wounds. There were still cracks and tears within your hearts that might never mend, but you knew that Neteyam was watching all of you. He would be smiling and almost shocked that Lo’ak mated before him, but he would be happy because he knew his little brother deserves every ounce of love. Neteyam would be happy that everyone is living their lives happily and growing more into themselves, with great love filling their bones.

And with that knowledge, he’s happily waiting with Eywa until his family can join him on the other side.

...

#neteyam imagine #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #lo'ak fic #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x omitikaya!reader #lo'ak angst #lo'ak fluff #james cameron avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #lo'ak x omatikaya!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x na'vi!reader #lo’ak x na’vi!reader

[dracowars]

hii! could i request a luke skywalker and reader (if you write for him) where they "rescue" grogu together and one of the dark troopers hurt her and he heals her and dotes over her?? just really cute? maybe she falls asleep on him and he carries her to her bed and she asks him to stay, they wake up cuddling and maybe a confession too??? totally fine if you dont write forhim but thanks!!!

counting on you | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x jedi!reader

word count: 2,5k

summary: where luke and y/n rescue grogu, but y/n gets hurt

a/n: i hope it's alright that i changed it up a bit, i went with the flow~ and thank you for always providing me with star wars requests <33

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, force healing

universe: star wars

A spooky stillness reigns on the giant light cruiser, even the dark troopers pause for a moment. Even though you sneak around, the droids’ sensors pick up your presence with ease. The silence vanishes just as quickly as it appeared as the troopers line up their blasters and start firing at you.

Your years of training have specialized you for these kinds of moments, which is why it is not difficult for you to take out the droids one by one with a targeted and well-considered movement of your glowing blade. You decapitate one of them, the heavy head banging on the hard floor, while another one sneaks up on you from behind. As a result of its actions, a green lightsaber is rammed through its upper body from behind in the next second. The red light behind the lifeless eyes extinguishes and the droid collapses, smoke emanating from the inside.

Quickly, you raise your own lightsaber in front of your body, allowing you to deflect the blaster fire from the dark troopers who have not yet fallen. Again and again, you block their attacks and direct the dangerous projectiles in the other direction. Shortly, you catch a glimpse of one of the surveillance cameras mounted in the upper corner of the ceiling before it is destroyed by a deflected shot.

You know you are being watched.

Together and as a team, it does not take long until you have fought your way through the entire cruiser, through almost all enemy troops, and are now close to your final destination. The Force that called you here is incredibly strong, even stronger than you expected. And you can clearly feel it.

“Y/N!”, your name echoes through the battle as you pound one of the troopers against the wall with a flying ammo box, crushing it motionless. “This way.”

Disposing of your last opponent by severing its mechanical arms and legs, you extinguish your lightsaber blade and follow Luke into an elevator, adjusting the hood of your cloak that has slightly slipped during combat. You stand closely next to him, breathing heavily and trying to control your breathing, while the fight did not bother Luke at all. Which is pretty unfair considering how many dark troopers he took out on his own.

“Did you count?”, is the only thing Luke asks you, his gaze fixed ahead, his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. Nodding, you answer his question, and a small smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You can’t fully reply, however, when the elevator abruptly stops on the selected floor and the doors hiss open.

As if in slow motion, Luke steps out first, the green blade already lit again, and faces the crowd of dark troopers who have just been waiting for the both of you. Immediately, Luke deflects and dodges each trooper’s blaster shots, severing the first of them in two. Startled, you take a step back all of a sudden, not knowing exactly what made you do it, the adrenaline dulling all your senses.

Moving quickly, closely behind Luke, you also take out a dark trooper who has gotten a little to close for your liking. You use the Force to pull one of them towards you, but do not manage to pull him as close as you originally intended, which surprises you once again. Luke does not realize, however, as he swipes his green lightsaber across the trooper from top to the bottom. The next one he pushes backwards with a boost of the Force.

Thrilled and exhausted, you watch as he effectively crushes the very last enemy with the Force in a matter of seconds with a tiny flick of his hand, an action that only makes you realize just how powerful Luke really is.

You still have a lot to learn.

Now, you stand alone in front of the locked blast door that protects those you came here for. A deep indentation in the door indicates that you got here just in time.

As you stagger, preparing to open the thick door with your lightsaber, it already hisses to the side on its own, opening up a view of the bridge. The sliding doors reveal, even though blurry, a group of the most diverse inhabitants of the galaxy: bounty hunters, Mandalorians, Imperials, and…

“Are you Jedi?”, the Mandalorian in shining silver armor asks after you have removed your hoods and revealed your faces upon entering.

“We are”, Luke replies calmly, his eyes shifting to the left toward the small green figure hiding behind the back of a chair. You watch as Luke reaches out to the Force-sensitive child and asks him to come along. His words ring in your head from afar, as if he weren’t standing right next to you.

You can tell from the Mandalorian’s movement that they are still talking, but their conversation is drowned out by a loud and uncomfortable beeping in your ear. When a sudden rush of pain shoots through you all of a sudden, you wince and take another step back, as if something invisible hit you out of nowhere.

Instinctively, your hand grabs your side and when it comes into contact with your skin you can’t help but cry out in pain. The moment you look down at yourself and there is dark blood all over your hand, your blood, the realization hits you roughly.

You weren’t hit by something invisible. Unnoticedly, you were hit by a blaster shot, one that neither Luke nor you were able to deflect after stepping out of the elevator. This also explains why you staggered all of a sudden, why you were suddenly unconcentrated and could no longer properly recognize the figures in front of you, why you are now on the fastest way to the hard, cold ground.

If it weren’t for Luke, who catches you in one swift movement and slowly slides you to the ground, his hands tightly wrapped around your body, you would have hit your head. You do not want to seem weak, especially not in front of him, which is probably why you have been subconsciously suppressing the pain all along. However, you are wounded more severely than you thought, at least judging by the expression on Luke’s face after he took a closer look at your bleeding wound.

Perplexed and no longer able to fully comprehend what is happening around you, your vision only gets clear for short intervals. At first, you recognize several silhouettes looking at you, including the tiny green creature, while the next moment you hear R2-D2’s worried squeak. Then you are blinded by a bright light before feeling severe pain that suddenly vanishes again and then, out of nowhere, an X-Wing appears in front of you. Before you know it, you are in the endless vastness of space and then you slip into pure darkness.

When you can open your eyes properly for the first time after what feels like hours of being unconscious, even though your head is still constantly buzzing, it takes you a moment to find your way back to the here and now. A brown wall made of some kind of fabric reveals in front of you and you realize that you are lying on a makeshift bamboo bed, your jedi robe on top of you, turned into a blanket. Outside of what appears to be a tent you hear the soft cracking of a fire that casts eerie shadows on the tent wall. Unable to hear any other sounds, you quickly want to get up and search for Luke as the fear coursing through you due to his absence is quickly replaced by pain.

Groaning, you touch the familiar spot, where you were hit by blaster fire not too long ago, with your hand. Now, there is a large bacta patch attached to your skin, covering and protecting the wound. Slowly but surely acquainting yourself with your new immobility, you crawl to the entrance of the makeshift tent and pull the fabric that works as a door aside.

The light of the flames blinds you for a brief moment, but at the same time greets you with a pleasant warmth immediately.

“Y/N! You are awake”, Luke says, visibly glad as he quickly gets up from his cross-legged position next to the fire and rushes to you, dropping to the ground next to you while putting a safe arm around your shoulders. His other hand he places on your cheek and his eyes search your face for cluses as to how you are doing.

“I- Where are we?”, you ask in amazement, not being able to clearly see where you are even when you take a look at your surroundings. All you can recognize is that you are hidden in some forest in the galaxy. Your train of thought is interrupted, however, when a childlike cooing sounds next to you. You are shocked to find that the little green creature has come along this journey with you.

“May I introduce you, this is Grogu”, Luke introduces the two of you, and Grogu coos at the mention of his name, ears pricked. “Grogu, this is Y/N.”

Grogu’s little green hand touches your leg, seemingly his own way of greeting you, causing you to briefly giggle. You have to stop yourself, however, as the excruciating pain washes over you once more.

“I don’t know how it happened! I deflected all the shots, but this one must have escaped me and got you straight”, Luke chatters away, the guilt clearly written on his face. “The medical bay on this damn cruiser had hardly any equipment, so I could only put a bacta patch on the wound. I hope-”

“Luke”, you interrupt him gently, putting your hand on the side of his face now in order to force him to look directly at you. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It only hurts a little when I move. Or breathe.”

Luke immediately takes a breath in, ready to interject once more, presumably to tell you to lie down, but this time he remains silent as you pull his face towards you and bring your lips together in a gentle kiss. You don’t know what exactly made you do it, maybe it is the adrenaline that is still rushing through your veins, or it just felt right in that exact moment, here and now. Whatever it was, here you are, kissing Luke Skywalker and he seems to agree, actually deepening the kiss while leaning his torso more over your body, running his hand down the sides of your body, the side that is not injured. Wait a minute..

With a sudden jerk you promptly move away from Luke and look down at yourself, startled, examining the bacta patch that is still in place. However, the painful tug you felt when moving suddenly disappeared. Puzzled and not quite understanding what happened, Luke also looks at your wound, immediately grabbing your hand when you start to remove the patch, trying to prevent you from doing so.

“Y/N-”

“Wait, wait. It.. doesn’t hurt anymore”, you brush him off and he lets you remove the patch. Together you draw in a sharp breath at the same time as the bacta patch reveals your shining skin, no traces of a wound left. As if it never even existed.  

“What..”, both of you start, when Grogu, who has settled down right next to you in the meantime, answers with a coo, stretching out one of his tiny hands. At that exact moment the realization what this little guy apparently tries to tell you dawns upon you, and apparently also on Luke.

“No, no. That is absolutely impossible”, Luke immediately denies what you are both trying to comprehend at that moment, examining his own hands closely with wide eyes. He tries to understand that he healed you and did it with nothing but the Force itself.

“The sacred jedi texts say that-”

“Of course I just magically healed you with the Force and he tells me it’s what he always does”, Luke murmurs softly under his breath, causing you to look at him, placing Grogu on your lap while your heartbeat picks up again when you lock eyes with Luke. Questioningly, you stare at him, although you know exactly what he means. “I suppose now I will never have the courage to-”

“This is incredible!”, you yelp with delight, taking Grogu by surprise as the next moment he is stumbling backwards, R2 next to him beeping at you reproachfully as the protective brother he is. Happy and completely pain-free, you grab the little one and hold him in your arms so that he examines you with his huge eyes. Even though you know he can’t answer you or you wouldn’t understand since you don’t know how Luke is able to communicate with him, you smile at the little creature that reminds you of an old master while Luke still has to process the situation.

Which is more than fine with you, because that way he will not notice how fast your heart is beating after you have just kissed him out of nowhere.

“Courage for what?”, you interrupt him now, actually curious, but still a bit shy and reserved. The hope that he is triggering inside of you scares you. You weren’t even this scared when facing the dark troopers as you are in this moment. And Luke feels exactly the same.

“I- Well-”, Luke begins, but when he finds himself at a loss for the right words, he is the one leaning in and joining your lips in a soft kiss that you did not see coming at all. He gently moves his lips against yours and if you did not know better, you feel him smile against you every now and then.

Only when he breaks the kiss do you dare to take a deep breath in, although his face is still incredibly close in front of yours. His beautiful shining eyes light up at the sight of you, saying so much more than words ever could. Never again can you imagine living without that feeling inside of you, that mutual feeling of being loved feels so intoxicating.

R2-D2, who is currently talking to the child, does not seem to be bothered by the renewed awkward silence between the two of you. Rather, he takes this as an opportunity to beep even louder and tell one of his great stories.

“I-”, you try to start another conversation with Luke, who is still looking at you with so much affection that you could melt right there and then. Pulling yourself together, however, you slowly continue, emphasizing every single word: “By the way, I have eliminated fifteen dark troopers.”

There is a brief silence, and it almost looks as if Luke has stopped breathing for a second. But then he snorts loudly, and his beautiful laugh rings out to you. You can’t help but join his laughter until he abruptly stops and looks at you with all seriousness, his hand on your cheek and his thumb caressing your bottom lip.

“I got twenty-five.”

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker fanfic #luke skywalker os #luke skywalker one shot #luke skywalker one shots #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker imagines #luke skywalker ff #luke skywalker fic #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x y/n #luke skywalker angst #luke skywalker fluff #luke fluff #luke angst #luke x reader #luke x y/n #luke fic #luke fanfiction #luke fanfic #luke ff #luke imagine #luke imagines #luke os #luke one shot #luke one shots #star wars imagine #star wars one shot #star wars imagines

[angelic-dew]

Hiiiii! I really love your recent works and I kinda stalk your posts, [i am so sorry.] but I've never gotten enough courage to interact with your blog before!

so if it isn't too much can I be known as 🍄 anon?

But besides my aimless rambling, can I please request some mini headcannons of giyu, rengoku, muichiro [and others you can think of!] with a s/o who died? [cause of death: demon]

Thank you so much!! if it isn't too much of a bother, drink water please! <33

# deceased s/o headcannons !

୨ 🫧 ୧・author's note :: no problem at all, I tried my best to keep these short, I failed! And I hope yk to take care of yourself as well! I tried my best with these lol, but this will unfortunately be in 2 parts.

୨ 🍚 ୧・pairing :: Muichiro T. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Sanemi S. x g/n reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done} pt. 2 here

୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: death. grieving. body mutilation. cannibalism. vengeance. angst. grammatical errors. manga spoilers. || proofread.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro can't cope at all with this, in short. In fact, he doesn't even want to believe that you're dead, despite your corpse being mangled and mutilated beyond recognition. Blood painted the floor around your lifeless body, crimson streaks flowed slowly by the masses to create a bloody pool in which you rested in.

꒰☁️꒱. Though your eyes were blank, lifeless, defunct. This couldn't be right, he left for his nightly parole, thinking you would be safe, that you would be well taken care of within that time; oh, how he was wrong. The sight before him would be engraved into his memory for the end of his days, at best. The love of his life, his muse, his only reason to keep going, fell from him at that very moment.

꒰☁️꒱. How could he cope with this one? First were his parents, then his only brother, and now his beloved (name). Was life supposed to be this cruel to him? He meant well, he had a passion to protect others, he fought for what was right and that all was because of you. You inspired him to be who he is today, and if he doesn't have that special person once more, he might as well give up on living. What's the point of it anymore, he can't have you. He can't ever see your loving smile again, the one Tokito cherished so much.

꒰☁️꒱. Disbelief was like an overwhelming force, consuming him at every second it could, toying with his mind as if it were its own pawn, specifically made for enjoyment. Salty, little tears welled up in his now dull eyes, they were almost as empty as yours. He inched closer to your figure, stepping slowly into the pool of blood that encaved around what was left of your mutilated carcass.

꒰☁️꒱. Your beloved felt his stomach churning as he held what was left of your remains in his arms, your blood beginning to stain his clothing. His tears were filled with hurt but a vengeance boiled within his very being. He held your hand gently, the cold touch sending shivers up his skin; his tears began to stain your corpse, but he didn't care. He had to be with you as long as he could, even until you began to rot.

꒰☁️꒱. it wasn't your time to leave just yet. He won't accept it. But yet he had to. You were left in his warm embrace for hours on end - into the late hours of the evening. It was only then his crow notified the other members of the corps. Even they too, were surprised by your death. Tokito was desperately clinging onto your body like his life depended on it, your wounds were full of maggots and your body was starting to deteriorate. Eventually, Tengen along with Kyojuro would have to pry him off of your corpse despite his refusal.

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro could never accept this defeat. He will never move on, he still believes you two are still together in some shape or form. He tends to visit your grave each day which offers him an opportunity to do so. Delivering a fresh flower of your favourite kind and colour each time, always replacing the wilted one. Only the freshest and best for you. A part of me 100% believes that he would talk to your grave as if it were a person.

꒰☁️꒱. The mist hashira only has one purpose to live at this point, to slay every demon he comes in contact with, in hopes that's the one that stole his happiness away. Fighting with brutality and skill. He dreams of the day that he could join you once more; he desperately hopes you're waiting for him wherever you are. For if he could sell his soul to hear your angelic voice one last time, he would be done for.

❝ My dear, we shall meet again. Death will never do us part. ❞

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

꒰🌪꒱. From his backstory, we can gather that Sanemi cannot comprehend loss and tragedy; it's more or less the reason he became so cold as of his present age, having witnessed as well as being involved in such a traumatic event during his childhood, he tends to block off others. Losing the ones he cared about most, all that he ever loved. Even losing Kanae left a mark on him until he met you.

꒰🌪꒱. It was only up until he met you that his luck changed drastically. You made him feel complete, wanted and loved more than ever. Shinazugawa loved you, he truly did, with all that he ever had in him; you were his light in his darkness, the person he knew he could rely on whenever tragedy struck his heart. He cared for you, loved you with everything he ever had; he wanted to be yours, forever.

꒰🌪꒱. Sanemi was never reliant on others besides himself, therefore, he never sought the need for others to give their aid even when he did in fact need it more than ever. Yet, you changed that, the one person he loved more than anything, the one person he cherished with every fibre of his being.

꒰🌪꒱. So one could only imagine the sheer terror that painted his face that day. It was as if his heart shattered beyond repair into minuscule fragments of love he had for you; his eyes were almost hollow, dead in fact. There wasn't even a source of any emotion, not even anger, no fear, no hatred.

꒰🌪꒱. The only good thing that came into his life slipped away from his grasp at that moment, again. That was just his luck. I mean, it had to happen at some point but he never expected for you to be torn to pieces by a dreaded demon. Your screams of terror could only fill his ears then, as he failed to do the one thing he swore to always do. Protect others.

꒰🌪꒱. Emptiness turns into guilt and guilt turns into blame. The wind hashira was dumbfounded as his gaze was steadily fixtures onto your mutilated corpse. Crimson streaks slowly make a border around your body, he could only watch on as your haunting screams ring in his ears, your last breath was used to scream for your life. For help. Yet he did not save you in time. What kind of hashira was he supposed to be if he couldn't protect the one person that meant the world to him?

꒰🌪꒱. At this point, I see Shinazugawa not even putting up a fight with the demon that brutally took your life from his hands. Though he craves the enticing thought of revenge, he needs to see you before he decides to take his own life. He'd rather die out of shame on the battlefield rather than the fact he is willing to ever commit it.

꒰🌪꒱. But isn't there a light at the end of the tunnel? Surely, shame is brought upon his name, one of the strongest hashira's last dying breath being taken away by a lonesome, pathetic demon; but it was in his best interests, how could he go with the guilt of your death weighing him down every breath he took? It would be too much for him to handle.

꒰🌪꒱. But at last, his dying moments were peaceful, as all the cheerful memories of you filled his mind, the good ones were the best for there rarely were any horrid ones to begin with. He's thankful that you came into his life, he cherished every second of the time he spent with you. You gave him purpose, the only choice was to die if he didn't have a true purpose. Sanemi's final moments were enjoyed, a smile plastering his face as he crossed into the afterlife, in hopes to be met by your angelic beauty one last time.

❝ I hope you're waiting for me, angel. ❞

© angelic-dew 2023,, please don't translate or plagiarize my work. Although support and reblogs help a lot! <3

#headcanon #demon slayer #kny x y/n #kny x you #yandere demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro x reader #muichiro angst #sanemi angst

[distortionbobble]

supernova //final

one | two | three

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!poc!reader

summary: you face the consequences of loving anakin. 

warnings: minors dni. death of a child, order 66 in general, kinda suicidal thoughts, mentions of pregnancy, elements of masochism/sadism?, choking, angst, biting, the whole smut shebang, canon levels of violence, anakin is very much the way he is at the end of revenge of the sith but maybe exaggerated for my own twisted desires lmao

word count: 9.5k

a/n: i went a little off the rails with this one heehee but also i would totally love to talk about this fic more so i might post a separate more fleshed out a/n for funzies 

Sixty nights without Anakin Skywalker. 

And not a single one has felt right. From the moment you were exiled from the Jedi Order, you’ve felt more and more that you’re only a bystander as the events of your life occur to someone else. You’re trapped on the outside, watching through walls of glass, suffocating silently with no one to hear, and no one to help. 

Each look of disappointment from those who once believed in you is burned into your mind. You never thought you’d live to see that, really. They’re all you see now when you go to sleep, like ghosts that chain you to the mistake that upended your life. 

Mistake. It feels wrong to think of Anakin as that. Some nights, the thought of him is the only thing that gives you the strength to keep breathing. You always find yourself reaching out to him, your heart trying desperately to fill the void of his body in a bed that he’s never been in. For so long, sleep just meant that— you and Anakin, together, safe, comfortable. Long before the forbidden tainted your feelings for him, back when he’d crawl into your bed because he had another nightmare and it was only with you that his mind went silent.

Master Windu has assigned you to an agriplanet, one far from what you were familiar with. Lothal imposes its dull monotony on you every day now, from its bleak sunrises to its equally lifeless sunsets. You work along a few of the Jedi who have chosen to work on the agriplanet as a means of escaping the war, exhausted and drained by combat. They’re just as tired as you are, but this place means something different to each of you. To them, it’s a place for recovery. To you, it’s a prison. A place where you’re forced to abandon your hopes and dreams. 

Each day is the same: wake up, wash yourself from head-to-toe, eat the bland food they serve at the eating halls before going to the farm. In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t mind it; in fact, maybe you’d find the repetition harmless. But now, the repetition only forces you to dwell on Anakin. What he’s doing, where he is. You wonder if he’s moved on to Padme now that he knows he’ll never see you again. You wouldn’t blame him if he did, but it’s the only thing you can think about, and it consumes you. Day and night. Jealousy and obsession burn at the edges of you because when you fell, you fell hard. 

The worst part of all of it is that you don’t feel like yourself anymore. You can’t recognize the person you’ve become. You stare at a ghost every morning in the mirror. If you’re not a Jedi, what are you? 

This morning is like every other— you’re woken by the gray light of sunrise as it creeps through your room, hoping the swell of nausea subdues itself before you get out of bed. The nausea made itself known to you only recently, only about a month ago. You pay it no mind. 

And then you sit, staring, trying hard to forget the mornings that you woke up next to Anakin. Trying to forget that you’re never gonna get that again. Trying not to think about what he’s doing, if he misses you as much as you miss him. 

The silence screams at you. You carry it with you, even as you leave your hut, surrounded by the chatter of Jedi who actually got to live their dreams. You wish that was you, that you’d gotten the chance to be the Knight you were raised to be. 

You’re jealous of them. So jealous. But you swallow down the anger and begin your work for the day, trying to ignore the sting of tears as you sink into your despair. More than once, you find your hands wandering to your belt, instinctively reaching for your lightsaber. You can’t remember a single day since you got it where it wasn’t clipped to your belt by the moment you woke up. Your lightsaber was like an extension of yourself, and you felt its absence after having taken it for granted for so long. Being a Jedi was more than just fighting. You missed that part of training, sure, but your mind was always hungry to learn, to fulfill that never-ending urge to know and do things better. Learning battle strategies, learning diplomatic tactics, working with others and learning how to make them bend. Now? You’re cut off and while your hands are busy, your mind is forced to wander. 

Anakin is your favorite distraction. What would he do if he was with you right now? He’d loathe this place, that’s for sure. He’s always lived so fast, driven by his impulses. You can almost hear him groaning about his boredom in your head, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his smile. You’re sure he’d make the dreary work a competition, bringing his own life and light to the task because that’s what he always did when he was with you. 

You almost wish you’d forget him. Erase his love from your mind. Maybe then, this separation wouldn’t be so painful. But what would you be without him? You loved, and you knew love, felt love. Love had taken careful hands and it had sculpted you, from the clay and the dust and the dirt, and it had sculpted you so grand before the fall. Oh, but how lovely was the fall? Misery is sweet on your tongue when you think of Anakin Skywalker. You can’t forget him, because he is your everything; to forget him would be to forget yourself. 

You’ve just sat down for dinner, body fatigued from the day, when a shadow is cast upon you, and you look up to see the smiling face of a woman you’ve only seen in passing. “Congratulations,” she says to you. “The baby will be as strong as its parents.” 

The spoon you’d been raising to your mouth falls from your hand and clatters to the ground. “What- what baby?” you stammer out. You’re sure the woman must be talking about someone else, because you’re sure you’re not pregnant. Maker, being pregnant would be a nightmare that you’re not prepared for. You’ve never even dreamed of having a child, too busy adhering to the Jedi Code. You can’t be pregnant, you just can’t be. 

The woman’s smile is unfazed as she reaches out to you, just lightly grasping your hand, and you can feel what she feels, what you hid from yourself for the past two months— a flickering presence, just barely there, deep within you. No. Your head swims and you gasp for air that just doesn’t seem sufficient. Panic floods your body at the realization that there is a living thing growing within you. A baby. Yours’ and Anakin’s baby. 

“Master Kenobi, I need Master Kenobi,” you mumble, shoving yourself away from the table and stumbling back to your hut. Your feet catch on the roots and rocks in the ground and your body slams into the walls of your hut as you shake in fear. You don’t know what to do. Can you do this? You’ve never been weaker, alone and afraid, without your best friend by your side. You need Obi-Wan, you need his guidance. 

You’re frantic as you turn on your hologram, hands trembling as you try to get a hold of your former Master. You bite your knuckles nervously as the signal pings out, almost crying in relief when the hologram of Obi-Wan’s familiar figure lights up in blue. 

“Y/n,” he says, with calm surprise. “I take it you’re—” 

“I’m pregnant,” you blurt out, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and splashing against your clothes. Then the dam bursts and you begin to sob, chest heaving as your breath escapes you. Soft wails of panic escape you because now you’ve said it, now it’s real, and more than anything, you need support right now. Obi-Wan watches you silently, a look of pain on his face as he takes you in. He looks up, trying to rein in his own tears as you call his name between sobs. 

“Padaw— Y/n,” he corrects himself, lips twitching downwards as he reigns in his own sadness. It’s not easy for him to watch the girl he’s almost raised for so long suffer, with nothing he can do to help. “Y/n,” he says again, softer this time. “It’ll be alright.” 

“I’m so alone, Master,” you cry out, tears still falling from your eyes. Your tongue slipped in calling that. He’s no longer your Master, and remembering that slices open wounds that have barely begun to heal. Obi-Wan is kind enough to ignore your mistake.

“You’re not alone,” he reassures you, still watching you as you calm down, rubbing the bone behind your ear anxiously. 

“What am I gonna do, Obi-Wan? She’s never gonna know her father. She can’t ever meet him, and if she does, he certainly cannot know that she’s his.” You sniffle and wipe your face with the back of your hand, sighing as you think about her future. “What if she feels abandoned? Am I gonna mess her up and be a terrible mother?” Your voice breaks. 

“Should you choose to keep the child, which no one will force you to do, you will be an amazing mother. While Anakin cannot know of his child, I will be there as much as I can to ensure your and your child’s well-being. And when it is time, she will be taken in by the Order, where she will be safe.” You laugh bitterly at his words. 

“Safe, safe like I was?” Obi-Wan just lowers his head in shame. You’ve never been good at controlling your temper, and seeing your words wound him hurts deep down. You look down at your clenched fists as you slow your breathing, trying to reign in your anger. And you try again. “Thank you, Obi-Wan,” you say. He nods quietly at your words, and you find yourself with your hand atop your belly protectively. 

“Y/n, if you do not wish to keep the child, you do not have to. There are many options to—” 

“I want to,” you interrupt. You hadn’t realized it before, but you did. And if she turns out anything like her father, you’ll never be bored. “When she’s taken in by the Order… could- could you please make sure she meets her father? She doesn’t need to know it’s him, but that’s what I want for her.” 

“I cannot promise anything, but if it’s possible, I’ll try and have them meet.” Obi-Wan evading your request is no surprise. Words mean everything to him, and he doesn’t make promises lightly. But it comforts you to know that he’ll try, to know that he’s on your team even when you feel so alone. 

There’s nothing left to say now. Your situation has left you with a cold distance between your former Master, your interaction saturated by a cold silence. You muster a soft smile— one which he returns— and the call is cut, leaving you in your solitude again. 

In another life, Anakin would’ve been by your side. It wouldn’t have been fear you felt, but excitement. You can just picture it in your mind— he’d be so happy with the news that he would throw open the windows and scream to the world that he, Anakin Skywalker, was going to be a father. But here, in this desolate life of yours, the only sound is silence. 

It burns, deep down, this loneliness. You want nothing more than to cross the galaxy and be swept up in his loving embrace again, safe and supported and loved, both you and your child. He’d love you so much, even now, but that’s exactly the problem. Allowing him to love you would be reckless, dangerous, and you love him too much to allow him to love you. Besides, you’ve lost everything, all for him. There’s no point in dragging him down to the depths of hell just for him to burn at your side. 

You cross your room to the mirror, standing in front of it and shedding each article of clothing until you’re left bare, studying your skin in the dim firelight of your room. Is this what Anakin would see? You picture him standing behind you, his rough hands on your smooth skin, tracing every inch of you as he shows you over and over again what it’s like to be loved. You close your eyes and mimic the path his hands would take down your body, consuming your being with the fire that his love is. Grief wraps its hands around you instead and you feel choked, tears spilling down your skin as you weep openly. 

Nobody can hear you. Nobody will wipe your tears and hold you til it passes. 

And it’s then, when you feel loneliest, that you hear it— your name falling from Anakin’s lips. You’re sure you imagined it. 

“Y/n,” he whispers again, and you whirl around to see him. He’s drenched, and you can see fresh droplets of water landing on his bare skin, collecting and building until they’re running all the way down his bare skin. You force yourself to swallow hard as your eyes follow the maps made by each trail, running down the strong panes of his abs before they swoop down to the hard bones that make his v-line and down further still. For a brief second, the familiar swell of lust rises within you. After all, who could resist the sight of Anakin Skywalker in the shower? 

But that building lust is accompanied by that bitter longing you carry. You need Anakin Skywalker to breathe, and here he is, like a gift from the Force itself. And he is beautiful and he is connected to you, and it feels like it’s just you and him in the universe all over again. Then you breathe and remember that he’s not yours, he never was. Anakin Skywalker was sculpted by the universe to become the Chosen One, not to waste his life as your beloved. You need him, and love him, and you never will have him. 

Still, your mouth betrays you when you cry out his name, reaching out to meet his hand and swallowing that sharp disappointment when your hand just passes through his. You know he’s not truly here, but it hurts nonetheless. 

“My love,” he sighs, reaching out to touch your face. It doesn’t matter that it’s not real, it doesn't matter that he’s lightyears away from you. You can almost feel it as you hover your cheek above the apparition’s hand and you have to look up to stop the tears in your eyes from falling. I miss you, you want to say. Come to me. Find me. I love you, I miss you. But you say nothing. 

“Have I wronged you so much that you cannot bear to speak to me?” Anakin asks, pained. You shake your head, unwilling to say anything because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying. 

“Let me find you,” he urges. His voice is as gentle and loving as you remember, and you find yourself placing a kiss on the apparition’s hand. The false intimacy stings. “Just tell me where you are. I’ll fix all of this, I promise. I’ll save you.” 

Your shoulders begin to shake as you step back, sobbing quietly and shaking your head because you don’t have the strength in your voice to tell him no. You hate hurting him. Seeing his face like this, contorted with that agony that you know too well, hurts you more than it should. 

“Please,” he begs, dropping to his knees as you continue to back away from him. His tears are falling freely now, collecting on his lashes before they bend and break away to kiss his cheeks. And you’re tempted, again, to tell him everything— to say that you’re pregnant, that it’s his, that you’re on Lothal and you’d follow him wherever he goes. You want to say it all, but it feels like your jaw is wired shut and all you can do is shake your head. Your ambition, your hopes and dreams, were so cruelly dashed by the Order. You see no reason for him to experience the same thing. And even if it hurts him, it’s for the better. It’s what you’d want in his position, to be encouraged to follow your destiny, not turn away from it. Besides, love is a fleeting thing. He’ll forget you someday and the pain will only be a fading scar. 

It dawns on you when you look at his broken form that you resent him, to some degree. Because he got to keep everything, while you lost everything, and yet he has the audacity to break in front of you. You want to scream at him, scream that it isn’t fair, that you’re in far greater pain than he will ever know. But you know that you’d feel the same in his place, because you’re so close to shattering. He is your everything. 

I hate you. I adore you. I need you. Why couldn’t it be you? Save me. Stay away from me. You want to say all of it, you want to say none at all. You’re at war within yourself, and Anakin on his knees with your name dripping off his tongue only makes your head pound. 

“Leave,” you say, finally finding the strength to use your voice. “Leave and never think of me again.” Your voice is steady, a facade you struggle to maintain. Anakin’s bottom lip trembles as you shut him out, his hands falling limp to his body as the image begins to fade. 

As soon as the last remnants of light fade from your vision of him, it feels like a cord has been cut and you collapse into yourself, so exhausted from it all that you can’t sob, you can’t cry. You’ve been denied your happiness one too many times but this? 

This is what breaks you. 

~~~

Two-thousand one-hundred and three days without Anakin Skywalker. 

You’ve killed the woman you once were. And, like a phoenix, you were reborn from the ashes of her. Long gone are the days where you were so connected to the Force that it was part of you— now, even something as small as lifting a rock makes your hand tremble and your head throb. Your connection to the Force was lost with the person you were, and it took a long time to fill the void you were left with. 

You gave birth to your daughter, Maya, whose spirit matches her father’s. Obi-Wan visits you every month, bringing gifts for your daughter and support for you. He isn’t here every day, but he’s here when it counts— every one of Maya’s injuries has been kissed and sent away by Obi-Wan well after they’ve healed. She’s quite attached to him, and you can’t stop that growing fear that it mimics her father’s all too well. But she is still a child, rosy-cheeked and so full of promise that you banish the thoughts immediately. 

Maya Skywalker is five years old now. You’re certain Obi-Wan will assign her a different last name, or erase it entirely, when she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She doesn’t even know her own last name, which you and Obi-Wan decided to do in order to prepare her for her future in the Jedi Order. 

If she’s adopted into the Jedi Order. She hasn’t shown any signs of Force-sensitivity, but it only makes sense, given her lineage. You’re sure the child of the Chosen One and another almost-Jedi would bring forth a child blessed by a high midichlorian count. 

Of course, as her mother, there is a part of you that wants her to not be force sensitive. For her to stay with you, safe for as long as you can ensure it. That way, she’ll have more choice, instead of her destiny being written by the Jedi Council based on how many midichlorians are in her blood. 

You’re braiding Maya’s hair as you prepare for Obi-Wan’s visit to celebrate Maya’s birthday. Five years old, the time that the Jedi begins to identify which children are best suited for protecting the Force. You’re slower and more deliberate than usual today, because you don’t know how long you’ll have her with you before she’s taken by the Order and you never see her again. The threat of losing her too sits heavy on your shoulders. 

“Mama, why are you being so slow?” Your daughter complains, tugging your skirt. You blink and brush off your fears, shooting your daughter a teasing smile as you work your hands faster and finish her hair. 

“Sorry, little lothcat. I was just busy thinking about how big you’re getting.” 

“How big, mama?” 

“Almost as big as me,” A deep voice rumbles from the doorway. 

“Obi-Wan!” your daughter shrieks, beelining straight to his shins and making him let out a resounding oof when she collides with him. 

“I’m five now,” Maya says, but her words are muffled by the fabric of Obi-Wan’s clothes. He pulls her upwards quickly, flipping her upside-down quickly and making her giggle gleefully before setting her gently on his hip as he holds her. It makes you smile, seeing your former master being such an important part of her life. 

“Hey, Obi.” 

“Hello,” He responds, smiling at you gently as Maya pulls on his beard. “Now, what does the birthday girl want to do today?” 

“I wanna save a Senator, just like you and Anakin did,” Maya says, determined. 

“Oh, your mother told you about that, huh?” He asks, smiling. Maya nods, pushing herself out of Obi-Wan’s hold to get her feet on the ground. 

“Anakin is my most favorite Jedi,” she says, spinning around the room. You can’t do anything but laugh, because of course he is. You haven’t shied away from telling her the stories of Anakin’s bravery and everything he did. It was your way of letting her grow up with her father, even if she didn’t know that Anakin was her father. 

“Not even me?” Obi-Wan asks, a pout on his lips. He’s always had a soft spot for Maya. 

“Not even you, Uncle Obi. My favorite is Anakin. I wanna be as strong as him,” Maya shouts, jumping up onto your cot. She raises her little hands to the sky, imitating what she’s seen you do as you act out as Anakin, her chubby cheeks puffed out as she stares in concentration. 

Obi-Wan looks to you in mild amusement when the wooden comb that lays on your dresser suddenly goes flying, straight past Maya. Your head snaps towards her, hands still outstretched as her bottom lip begins to wobble in fear and now, stronger than ever, you can feel her Force signature. Perhaps it’s because you’re her mother you’re able to sense her despite your disconnect from the Force. But you know what this means— that she’s Force sensitive, that she’s destined for great things, that there’s power in her blood. 

You know it means that you’ll have to give her up to the Order. 

Maya begins to cry, afraid, and both you and Obi-Wan move towards her to console her. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, baby,” you say, bringing her to your chest and placing a kiss to her hair. “It’s okay. Mommy can do it too, see?” She looks up, sniffling, wiping away her tear tracks as you raise your hand in concentration and pray that it works. It’s been so long since you’ve even attempted to use the Force, but for your baby you’d do anything. 

It’s hard, at first. You feel like you’re underwater, searching for just a glimmer of light and you feel so cold. You reach out for it, only to be slammed into the barriers you’ve spent years building up. Memories you wish you could forget swirl around you, diluted but sharp against your skin. You can feel it, just barely out of reach, that familiar pulse that’s as much a part of you as it is the rest of the universe and you latch onto it with all the effort you can muster. 

The comb rises a few inches, wavering, before it finally clatters to the ground again. Your eyes meet Obi-Wan’s and you can see the disappointment in his eyes. A long time ago, you could’ve lifted that comb up without having to blink. It’s a cruel reminder of all that you’ve lost, of all that you once were. But it’s enough to satiate Maya, who gets up from your lap excitedly to go inspect the comb. 

“You knew this day was coming,” Obi-Wan murmurs to you, eyes trained on your daughter. He can read you like a damn book, always has been able to, and you know he can feel your apprehension at having to let her go. 

“I know,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“If we don’t separate her from you now, it’ll be extremely difficult later on, and it might hinder her in the future,” he warns. “There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.” Then he turns to you, taking your hands in his own. They feel softer than your own, your hands calloused and rough from the accumulating years of difficult agricultural work. It’s insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it serves to remind you of how much things have changed. How much you’ve changed. 

“I know.” You don’t dare to look away from Maya, watching her because you know all too well that you will never see her again. You’re afraid to even blink, because you don’t want to risk missing even a millisecond of her. She’ll be gone by nightfall, but all you want is to hold her in your arms and, selfishly, keep her here with you. You should be glad that she has this opportunity. That she’ll accomplish everything that you never could. The part of you that was raised as a Jedi beams with pride, excited for her to thrive, even if it’s away from you. The part of you that’s her mother wants to burn the Order to the ground just to get one more year with your baby. 

Instead, you take a deep breath and accept that you have to let her go. “She’ll be safe, right, Master?” 

“I promise she’ll be safe,” he assures you. “I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes.” Obi-Wan squeezes your hand and gets up, walking out the door. You notice that it’s unusually overcast today, instead of the usual sun that you expect from Lothal. An unusual day in its entirety. 

“Maya,” you call out softly. You do your best to hold your tears at bay, because you don’t want your last memory with her fragmented by sadness. Even when she forgets what you look like, you want her to remember that you loved her, that you were happy with her. 

Your daughter, your sunshine, sports a toothy grin when she looks up at you. “Yes, mama?” 

“Isn’t it so incredible that you can do something this amazing?” You ask her, trying to seem as excited as possible. You want her to be excited about being a Jedi, and you know that means you’ll have to fake your own excitement. She nods, confused but excited. “Well, because of that, you get to go with Uncle Obi-Wan to the Jedi Temple. And you’re gonna learn how to do so many things, Maya, and you’re gonna get so strong.”

“Strong like Anakin Skywalker?” She asks you, hopeful. You laugh and nod, looking up so that the tears that prick at your bottom eyelid won’t fall. “And mama, you’re coming with me?” 

You sigh and bite your lip, struggling to maintain your enthusiasm because you’re gonna miss your sweet girl so much. You hold her little face in your hands, kissing her forehead before leaning back to look at her. “No, baby. Your mama isn’t as strong as you are. And I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but just remember that mama’s always gonna love you, okay, baby?” 

Maya nods, but you know she doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s calm because you’re calm, but the pain of separating from Maya is the most difficult thing in the world. How much will life cruelly rip away from you? 

You hold her tightly in your arms as you continue to fight back your tears, holding her for the last time. “If you’re ever scared, know that you can always go to Uncle Obi-Wan, and if you can’t find him, you can always trust Anakin Skywalker.” She nods, and you separate from her, managing a weak smile before getting up and walking with her outside. Obi-Wan waits outside of his jet, smiling kindly at your daughter and you with that deep understanding in his eyes. 

“It’s time,” he says, and you watch her board the jet, waving them goodbye and watching until the jet becomes a distant pinprick in the sky. Then you turn and walk away, feeling hollow inside all over again. 

~~~

It’s been three months since Maya left home. 

Despite the fact that she’s alive and well, there is still a shadow of grief cast upon you. You feel as though she’s been ripped from you too soon. However, it isn’t as painful as what you felt when you were exiled to Lothal six years ago. Your solace comes from the connection you feel with Maya. Despite the distance, it’s strong and unwavering. You can breathe easier as soon as you feel her, and know she’s okay. That’s all you need now.��

Since her departure, you’ve found yourself trying to find that connection to the Force all over again. It’s not something you find yourself doing intentionally, but rather while you’re in the fields, you realize your focus is trained on the pebbles in the field, trying desperately to make them rise. But you just… can’t. You don’t know if it’s the mental blocks, or if you’ve genuinely lost the ability to harness the Force. Your life is tearing at the seams, but you’re desperately trying to keep it all together. 

You’ve noticed that the air around you has felt almost jagged, and you know something’s wrong but as long as it isn’t Maya, you can’t be bothered to care. You’ve long left the universe to its devices, and you know by now that you can’t meddle with what fate has planned. It’s been a slow build of toxicity, forcing you to breathe a little faster, a little shallower. But right now, sitting in the hut you call home, it’s borderline unbearable, and you find yourself seeking out that connection with Maya. 

You expect her to feel calm, as she has every day for the past three months. But what you feel from her is fear. You’ve never felt anything like it from her, and it makes you panic even more. 

Maya? You think, hoping that she’ll hear you somehow. You’re not skilled in the Force anymore, not by any means, but you need her to hear you. You need her to hear your voice, to know that she’ll be okay. Besides, Obi-Wan and Anakin were most likely close by. Maya knows to trust them, and if they’re there, she’s safe. Maya, you urge again, despite your attempts to subdue the panic that rises in you when her fear won’t go away. Her fear breaks your heart and you’re beginning to get scared now, because she shouldn’t be afraid. The Jedi Temple is safe. So if she’s unsafe, has she wandered away from the Temple? She could be kidnapped, and your heart begins to race as you focus on trying to connect to her. You need her to talk to you, to tell you what’s going on. It may be detrimental to her training as a Jedi to reinforce attachment, but you’re her mother, not a Jedi. So, rules be damned, you reach out to your daughter to make sure she’s safe. 

Your voice in your head is so loud as you call out for Maya that you can’t make sense of much else. And you can connect to her, just briefly, before you feel a stabbing pain in your chest and the connection is severed. 

“Maya?” You whisper aloud, standing up as adrenaline overtakes you. You close your eyes and try desperately to reestablish your channel with Maya, but you cannot feel her. Your anchor to her is gone, and you can hear your heart beating as you desperately try over and over again, searching in the darkness, to find her. “Maya!” You scream. Your knees buckle from beneath you and your fists meet the floor, dragging against the dirt as you draw them closer to your body.   

You pound your fists against the floor until they bleed, screaming her name until your voice goes hoarse. You don’t want to believe it, you refuse to. You convince yourself that it’s just because you’re losing your touch, you lost the signal because you’ve lost your skill, and collect yourself up off the ground to crawl to your transponder. Surely if something was wrong, Obi-Wan would’ve sent you a message. The transponder is blank, and you sigh in relief. 

But when you reach out for Obi-Wan, you can feel him. If you can reach out to him, why can’t you reach out to Maya? And why does Obi-Wan feel afraid? In your entire life, you’ve never felt him afraid like this. And that grief, that riptide of grief that’s threatening to swallow him whole, you’ve never felt anything like it. And it only confirms what you wanted to deny. 

Maya is dead. And you sent her to her death. 

“No,” you murmur, standing up. The action is dizzying and you sway as you walk towards the door and out of your home. “No, take me instead. No, no, it can’t be her, she’s just a child. Take me instead,” You plead. You don’t know who you’re begging. The Force? The Maker? There is no Maker to listen to you. If there was, this wouldn’t have happened. But still you beg. 

You wander into the forest, the Lothal sun burning every inch of skin you have exposed. You trip over the branches but it doesn’t stop you, crawling on the forest floor until the energy is lost from your body and all you can do is stare at the sky. It taunts you, cruel and bright as you continue to beg and pray that the Force take you instead of Maya. You’d be willing to suffer every moment of your life so long as she was okay because there is no greater pain than this. If you hadn’t deluded yourself into thinking that she’d be safer away from you, she’d be alive right now. Her being a Jedi didn’t matter to you, it never did. You’d sent her to the Temple because you thought she’d be better off there than with you. If you hadn’t pushed her there, if you’d just kept her by your side… 

It’s all your fault. 

Your nails dig into your skin but you can’t feel it, so detached from your body that you don’t feel the branches and jagged rocks pressed into your back as you scream. Who will remember Maya when you and Obi-Wan are gone? She should’ve outlived you. To start a legacy of her own. She still had so much to live for, and dammit, it isn’t fair that you got to live while she didn’t. 

~~~

You don’t know how much time elapses while you’re on the forest floor, wishing the roots and vines would swallow you whole and take you into the Earth. The only company you find is your grief, that ugly monster that has followed you wherever you go. Your mind alternates quickly between denying it, convincing yourself that it was all a bad dream, to the empty awareness that it was all real. 

You pull yourself up, feeling your skin crawl at the stillness of your body, and you walk aimlessly. You’ve walked through these woods with Maya so many times before. The memories are like ghosts, haunting you. You just wish you could forget everything, because this pain is unbearable. 

That’s when you hear your name, just like how you heard it years before. Anakin’s voice. You turn and you see him emerging through the darkness of the night, but you’re frozen. He calls your name out again, walking closer to you still. He looks different now, but he feels different too. 

“Are you real?” You whisper. The sight of him is almost cruel to you. He doesn’t say a word, just nods and comes closer to you and runs his thumb over your jaw. It’s intimate and heart wrenching and you can feel it. He’s here, he’s really here. You don’t know how he always finds you when you’re at your weakest, but it feels so easy to melt into his arms. 

“Prove it,” you sigh. Anakin sweeps you closer to him and kisses you. His lips are consuming, familiar, and he kisses you with a dizzying aggression. Anakin kisses you until you’re lightheaded, suffocating you. His tongue dances with yours and his teeth clash against yours as he kisses you in a frenzy. You feel your back hit a tree and you feel him cage you with his arms against the tree. 

Anakin’s hands find their way to your hair and he tugs, sharp enough to make you gasp in pain. It makes him smile, lips curving upwards as they’re pressed against your open mouth. His hands explore your body like he’s forgotten everything, thumb pressed into every dip in your body and nails dragging against whatever skin is exposed. He’s rougher with you than he’s ever been before, but you don’t complain because the pain runs alongside your self-hatred. 

Anakin makes light work of your clothes, stripping you of the simple tunic that you wear for work and leaving you topless as he works to remove his own clothes. He moves fast enough that you’re not allowed a moment of thought, and for that, you are grateful. His teeth sink into the muscle of your shoulders and down to your breasts, painful and possessive but you relish in it. You absorb his neediness, his demands as he marks your body. You cry out at the pain and he clamps a firm hand over your mouth, rising up to look you in the eyes. 

And, Maker, those eyes. How could you have forgotten their intensity? His eyes are burning fires, brows drawn together as he drinks in the sight of you. There’s no love lost between the two of you as you use one another selfishly. He doesn’t care for you anymore, but the same can be said of you. It’s been too long, and you’ve left one another with wounds too deep to be healed with a kiss. But you can’t deny that you’re his, your souls tied to one another in a way far too significant to overlook. 

Anakin’s hand moves from your mouth to brush your hair back, and it’s a form of intimacy that you know is wrong. 

“I hate you,” you whisper, trembling. You can feel him pause, absorbing your words and you know they hurt him. You can see it in his eyes, too, the walls slamming in place as you force yourself to push him away. You don’t mean it, really. You just want somewhere to shunt your anger. You wish he had known about Maya, you wish he had been there to save Maya. The guilt inside of you is consuming you, and you want him to carry that burden too, to burn like you are right now. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until Anakin’s tongue trails against your cheeks, lapping each teardrop up. He grinds his hips into yours, bulge pressing against your clit through layers of clothing and you groan as your pussy flutters. He pulls back and laughs at you sharply, before craning his neck down to kiss you fiercely again. 

“Look at us,” he says, tauntingly. He pinches your nipples, lips continuing to fuse against yours as you dig your nails into the flesh of his back. “Do you ever wonder,” he pants against your mouth as you palm his bulge, “what would’ve happened if you hadn’t abandoned me?”

You scoff and sink your teeth into the muscles above his collarbones, making him groan in pain. Your hands rest at his belt, toying with the lightsaber at his belt and you miss having your own. You want him to hurt like you did. You don’t want to think at all. 

“Less talking, more fucking,” you groan, tugging his trousers off and slipping your own off until you’re both left bare. His cock rests against your thigh, hard and warm, and when you grasp it in your hand Anakin whines loudly. “You’re pathetic,” you laugh, sinking your nails into his thighs and leaving little crescents in his skin. Maker, you missed him. Being this close to him elicits all kinds of emotions— all that anger, all that lust, all that longing that you buried deep down for so long bubbles up to the surface and spreads across your skin and you feel hot, hot and dizzy and you want him inside you already, dammit. 

You slide his length across your wet slit, teasing yourself with the right balance of pressure as the head of his cock sits at your entrance. That’s when Anakin grasps your chin with two fingers, firmly but gently, and forces you to look him in the eyes. His eyes mirror the same carnal lust that you’re feeling right now, but deeper still there is that bond that the two of you have. It remains steadfast and unbroken and you can feel his love for you, despite the unkindness that life has shown that bond. 

I love you, he mouths to you. Silently, as if using his vocal cords would give you too much power. It’s a weak and flimsy promise, but you can’t help mouthing it back to you silently. You allow the wave that is Anakin Skywalker to swallow you whole and forget yourself for a little bit. 

He pushes into you without warning, sliding his entire length into you and holding it when the base of his cock is brushing against your folds. He feels warm and thick inside of you, and it’s addicting. Anakin allows you to just barely catch your breath before he withdraws and slams it into you again, fucking you roughly with the tree bark against your back and the friction of his chest against yours on your front. He fucks you carnally, intensely, like he knows what he wants from you and he won’t stop until he gets it. 

Anakin’s fingers dig into the flesh of your love handles as he hammers into you relentlessly, almost bruisingly in their hold. It feels like he’s holding you tighter for every moment you’ve been apart and you look down to watch him slide in and out of you over and over again. 

He holds you up with one hand and the other begins to wander downwards, pressing against the soft curve of your tummy where you can feel it bulge when he fucks you. 

“You feel that?” Anakin asks, making you look at him through heavy lids as you try to maintain that facade of composure despite the way that you’re losing your mind with each stroke. “You feel how good we fit, baby? And you wanted to take this sweet cunt away from me. You’re mine, you know that? Mine. And I’m never letting go of you again.” The latter half is a growled promise full of desperation that’s accumulated over years. You can’t manage a response, too distracted by his hips meeting yours and the lewd sound of your bodies, hearts, souls entangling. 

Anakin moves his warm hand from your belly to your neck, decorating your throat before he just barely squeezes. It’s just enough pressure for you to slip into that woozy space where every sensation is heightened and you feel like you’re floating. 

You allow yourself to get lost in him as he fucks you. 

You’ve forgotten how impossibly full he makes you feel, stretching you out and forcing the breath out of your lungs. It feels like he’s going deeper with every stroke and every time his hips meet yours, your core tightens and you can feel the lightning bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine. 

“Say my name,” Anakin pleads. 

“Anakin.” 

“Again.” 

“A-Anakin,” you moan. You can feel yourself getting closer, each driving force connecting you to him and pushing you more to the edge. Your walls tighten around his length and he continues to use the pads of his fingers to circle your clit, providing just the right amount of stimulation as he lays his claim on you. He moans your name as he finishes but continues to thrust into you, determined to please you.

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes and you close your eyelids, allowing them to escape as your body processes everything. You sob his name, broken, as you reach your climax, but he does not taunt you this time— no, he holds you close as you cry and shares your grief as much as he can without knowing what your tears are for. 

He slides out of you and begins to dress you. It reminds you of the way you dressed him so many years ago at the Lake Palace, before everything went wrong. You want to tell him about Maya. He was her father, after all. But you know that he’s also the Chosen One, and it’s also your responsibility to make sure he doesn’t have the kind of attachment that pushes one into the Dark Side. The kind of attachment and love that a parent would have for their child. 

“You’re so different now.” You manage a weak smile at Anakin, and he kisses the palm of your hand. You trace the scar over his eyelid with your thumb and run your fingers through his long waves. There is love hidden in your touches, love that he cannot afford to keep but love that you’ll give him regardless. 

He turns away from you and begins to slip on his clothes, and that’s when you fish out the comlink from your pockets. There’s a message from Obi-Wan and you play it quietly next to your ear. 

“Anakin killed Maya.” That’s all he says before the message ends, and you have to replay it because you just don’t understand what he means. Anakin. Your Anakin, the one who would never hurt someone, much less a defenseless child. He killed Maya? Not just any child, but his own daughter? Was the Chosen One unable to feel that he was her daughter? It simply didn’t make sense. You don’t want to believe it, either, but you realize that this whole time that Anakin’s Force signature has been muted, more than you’re used to. 

With Anakin’s back still turned to you, you stalk over to his lightsaber, holding it in your hands. There’s no going back if you turn it on. If you turned it on and it was red, it would be undeniable proof that Anakin Skywalker is a murderer, that the Chosen One had fallen to the Dark Side. It would be proof that he had single-handedly made your life devoid of any purpose. 

You turn it on. 

You can see Anakin’s back stiffen as the lightsaber hums and before it can fully light up, you’ve already moved it next to Anakin’s neck. 

His form is bathed in the red glow of his lightsaber, and you feel sick to your fucking stomach. 

“It was you?” You whisper in disbelief. Obi-Wan might have told you who killed Maya, but you didn’t want to believe it. You can feel Anakin deshielding himself and now, you can feel it in his Force signature— there is an undeniable darkness within him.

The saber radiates pain from your fingers to your elbow, slowly creeping upwards, but you ignore it. Your anger makes your heart pump pure poison and power, and as Anakin turns towards you, you raise the blade and swing it down. He jumps out of the way. 

“You have to listen to me, the Jedi Order is evil! They’re the real evil! They tried to kill me—” 

“What, did they make you kill the younglings too?” You scoff, swinging the saber wildly as he backs away from you. The saber is heavy and the blade, corrupted by its master, only causes you more pain to wield it. 

“That wasn’t me!” He shouts, and all you can see is red. You scream at him, a noise full of pain and sorrow because his lies only add to your suffering. 

“Don’t you dare lie to me. You, you killed my fucking daughter,” you scream, and you’re close enough this time that the swing of the lightsaber burns cleanly thru his robes. 

“You have a daughter?” Anakin asks, shocked, as he harnesses the Force and pushes you a few feet away. 

“She trusted you,” you sob, voice breaking as you stumble towards him again and swing blindly. “I told her she could trust you. I told her she was safe with you.” 

You can feel the fury rising within Anakin before he even speaks. “Perhaps it’s for the best. After all, what future would she have as the daughter of some weak, worthless bastard?” His words cut through you like glass and his fury leaves you reeling. 

“Maya was your daughter. Yours! Your flesh and blood!” 

“Liar!” Anakin screams, sweeping his hand and sending you flying into a tree. 

“You know I’m not lying to you. I’m sure you felt it in her, too. Did she come running to you for safety?” You sob, getting up and ignoring the pain that shoots up your back at the movement. “I told her she was safe with you.” 

“You should’ve told me,” Anakin shouts. “That was my daughter, too, you didn’t think I had the right to know about her? Maker, were you ever going to tell me about her?” 

“I was protecting you! I gave up everything to keep you safe. Everything! You took away the one thing that gave me life after I had to leave everything behind! And for what?” You laugh bitterly. Anakin’s lightsaber is heavy and painful to wield and it feels like it’s burning your arm, but your fury fuels you and you drag the saber on the ground as you stumble towards him. Little embers burst into flames as the glowing red touches it, spreading behind you till the trees are ablaze with your anguish. 

Anakin lifts you up with a single movement of his hand, choking you in the air as you struggle and you’re reminded of just how strong he is. You fight back, and both of you collapse in exhaustion as the power that the other exerts over you wins. You’re quicker to recover, feet dragging behind you as you make your way to Anakin, who kneels on the forest floor and looks up at you with emotions that you can’t quite decipher. 

“I loved you,” you sob, hovering the lightsaber right next to his neck and trying to summon the strength to kill the love of your life. “All I wanted for you was to become the man you were always meant to be, to use that power for good.” You gasp, tears rolling down your face. The smoke from the fires burning around you singes your nostrils and eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the pain that Anakin is putting you through. 

“That’s why I left. I didn’t want you to have any distractions, any temptations in your path. I refused to be your downfall. You think I abandoned you? I had nothing when I came here, nothing! Maya saved my life. And you took her away from me. You took everything from me.” You can barely see him anymore, tears blurring the image of the man before you and you don’t have the strength to wipe them away, both hands still grasping the handle of the lightsaber as you shake. 

“Her blood is just as much on your hands as it is on mine,” Anakin refutes. He holds you in his gaze and the amount of rage in his gaze makes you uneasy, but you laugh bitterly at his words. 

“You think I don’t know that? All I can think about is how if I hadn’t sent her there, she’d be alive, Anakin.” He’s crying too now, tears carving their way down the ash residue left on his face from the fire. You blame him, you blame yourself, you blame everything. You just want Maya back. 

You lose your grip for just a second, weakened by the heavy toll that grief exerts on you, but a second is all that Anakin needs. He quickly disarms you and twirls the lightsaber to face you, rising and pushing you down with his feet. 

“Kill me,” you whisper, closing your eyes. You don’t want to keep fighting anymore. The universe would take revenge on Anakin for you, but you’re just too weak to carry on. Not without Maya. 

Anakin laughs darkly at your request and you can hear the hum of the lightsaber fade. The only thing you can hear is the fire as it spreads and the sound of his breathing as he stands above you. 

“You kept my daughter away from me, and she’s dead because of that. I won’t kill you, my love. No, that would be a kindness to you. You’re going to live, and you’re going to wake up every day with her death on our hands. If I am to carry this burden, I won’t do it alone. Live, and suffer.” 

Anakin walks away from you as you open your eyes. Your last glimpse of Anakin is with his back turned to you, flames licking at the bottom of his robes as he leaves you in the fire, a fire so bright you could mistake it for a supernova. You want to stay here, let the inferno swallow you whole, but you drag yourself to the hut where the remaining settlers are frantically rushing into the forest to put out the fire. 

Your Anakin Skywalker, the man you loved for so long, has been dead for a long time. Now, you have to learn to live in his aftermath. 

~~~

Twenty-three years since Maya’s death. 

It still feels like part of you was cut away that day, but you’ve learned to live without that part. It still hurts, every morning, but time has been kind to your memories of Maya. You don’t think about her suffering or her death, but the brightness of her smile when she was with you. And you live your life, as best as you can. The Empire has ravaged Lothal far too many times to count but the little sparks of rebellion bring you hope. 

Anakin doesn’t cross your mind much anymore. In the earlier years, when he did, the memory of him was associated with rage. But you’ve grown and you understand now that the man who killed Maya was not the same man who you grew to love in your childhood. 

You’re washing your hands when you can feel something shift. It’s slight, and so far away you barely register it. You can feel Anakin, the way he was so many years ago when he was still uninfluenced by the Dark Side. Your Anakin.

And just as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. After his death, Anakin Skywalker had returned only to die again. Something about that gave you a certain peace, to know that he died as himself. 

You don’t know why you find yourself turning around but you do anyway, and before you is the glowing blue Force ghost of Anakin Skywalker. There’s kindness in his gaze, one that you didn’t see when you were last with him. You don’t dare to look away from him because you know when you do you’ll have to let everything go all over again. He looks innocent, the way you think he would’ve looked if the Dark Side hadn’t influenced him. 

By the time you blink, he’s gone, with no evidence that he was ever really there. 

When the sun is set and the world goes quiet, you go outside to look at the stars. There’s one that’s brighter than all the others tonight. 

For some reason, it reminds you of Anakin.

#star wars fanfic #star wars #amongst the stars #my writing #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #smut #fanfic #angst

[venuscrashed]

Hai, venus if you don't mind may i've a request for male s/o Who died when fighting demons, he limped while holding the wounds on his body,Male s/o hugged her and for the last time he said "if I reincarnated would you....ugh... want to marry me" he said while kissing her lips before he finally died.

For Shinobu, Mitsuri and Kanae. Please...

I want you to ignore my request if you don't feel comfortable, I'm sorry and I want to say I like your blog❤️🧁🍓

The way I blushed at your compliments 🤭

Shinobu got up, while holding her side that dropped blood. Her vision was hazy and she could barely stand up straight. She breathed heavy while the sounds of sword fighting came to the end. Shakily, she limped towards where you were and once she reached there she saw you shaking.

“M/n-San,” her hand went to your shoulder and turned you around. She gasped and tear’s threatened to fall down her face as she saw your organs falling out. She took a few steps back, her mind went blank she could only stare at your exposed stomach.

You limped forward, feet dragging on the floor. Your hands went towards your stomach and a light smile was on your face. You fell into her and she caught you while still staring at your wound. Your arms wrapped around her, your stomach and intestines leaning onto her as well.

She cried while pulling you closer. The feeling of your wet, soft organs against her clothes were the last thing she cared about.

You breathed heavily and lowly lifted your head so you could whisper in her ears. “Shinobu,” you gasped. “If I get reincarnated would you,” your body slipped off of her.

You fell to the floor and you stomach hit the ground. Your intestines hung while slowly slipping out, they scraped the floor and you could barely get on your knees.

“M/n-Kun!” Shinobu crude and pulled you up.

“If I get reincarnated marry me,” you whispered while your vision blurred. You couldn’t focus on anything, Shinobu shouldn’t worry. You all die in the end.

Shinobu cried and pulled your face towards her. Your guys lips collided. She kissed you. You had stopped moving and her eyes opened. Your lifeless eyes had rolled into the back of your head. It was then that she realized you had died. That she breathed in your last breath.

The demon had evaporated, her last words floated into the wind. Mitsuri sighed as another poor would had to suffer for their consequences. Her smile soon returned to her face as she blushed and turned around.

Her smile soon got replaced with a look of horror. Her eyes went wide and her mouth agape. “M/n-kun,” she whispered slowly.

You forced yourself to move towards her. You limped, stumbling some times. Your blood painted your path.

Misturi tans towards you and pulled you into a hug. “M/n-kun! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” Her tears stained your uniform and her grip was cutting if your blood circulation.

One hand on your stomach, you hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. She felt your breath slow down and every single bad thing went through her mind. She couldn’t possibly live a world without you. She was so hooked up on you, that if you died she would soon follow.

“Misturi,” your voice was soft and slow compared to other times. It held no joy, just worry and fear. Your life was slipping out as seconds passed.

“No M/n-kun! You’ll be fine. Don’t speak, hello is on its way!” Her sobs grew louder.

“If I get reincarnated. Please marry me.”

Mitsuri froze with shock. You? Marry her? Reincarnated?

“I’ll find you. Become a better person for you and live the life I always dreamed off with you.”

“You’re perfect the way you are,” she stared up at you. Her fear obvious. “You’re not dying!”

She watched as you slowly smiled. Her hands went over her mouth as she knew what was going to happen. “Promise me. Please.”

You fell onto the floor into a pile of your blood. Misturi fell to her knees and cured over your body. “I promise,” she whispered. She saw how you died with a smile on your face, hers gone.

Kanae had landed into the middle of the open patch of flowers. She looked around, her crow had told her that you were there. She knew you could handle any demon and with that she didn’t worry.

The flowers around her glowed in the moon light. She admired their beauty and the smell they released. Her smile dropped as the blood on the floors contrasted their light pink color. Following the trail of blood with a hand on her sword, she saw you standing in the middle of a patch of wild flowers.

“M/n,” she hesitantly walked towards you. She started to run as you had dropped to the floor.

The flowers mimicked the outline of your boss. Kanae gasped as she saw the cut that was killing you. Her hands went straight towards your face as she sat next to you.

“M/n. What happened?” She checked over your injuries, noticing how you stared up at the stars.

“The stars are pretty tonight.” She looked towards you with confusion and worry. Your head shifted its position so you can stare at her. Your hand went up to her face, “Not as pretty as you.”

“M/n,” she worried but still blushed at the same time. She stayed calm. “You’re going to be fine.”Kanae was trying her best to stop the bleeding.

“Kanae, if they reincarnated. Please marry me.”

“M/n” she sighed and kissed the top of your head. Her face hovered over yours as you two stare at each other. “Of course I’ll marry you. I won’t stop looking for you.”

You smiled despite all your blood flowing out. She noticed how your hands went cold and the low amount of movement you had.

You two kissed again. As you two parted you squeezed her hand one last time before looking back to the stars. She stopped smiling, a tear falling down her face. Your eyes rolled back and your body went limp.

“I’ll find you M/n.”

#x male reader #x male y/n #x ftm reader #demon slayer x male reader #demon slayer x reader #Shinobu x male reader #mitsuri x male reader #Kanae x male reader #male reader #Shinobu x m!reader #Mitsuri x m!reader #Kanae x m!reader #venuscrashed